Scar Tissue

These sessions were bad.

It was surprising, really, just how pathetically stupid Marlene could be. She’d honestly thought that by this point in life she had witnessed the heights that her idiocy was capable of. Apparently she hadn’t, and she was reminded of it every time Dorcas Meadowes looked at her with those sarcastic, irritating, gorgeous dark brown eyes of hers. 

Marlene was making an idiot of herself. She couldn’t even imagine what the other girl thought everytime she swung wildly from being mean and rude to kind and attentive. But trying to contain her feelings was like trying to catch water with bare hands - it just kept slipping through her fingers. Her initial attempt to put up a cold, uncaring front was hopelessly crumbling before her eyes and Marlene was powerless to stop it. She had tried to keep it up for all of Regulus’ friends - because she wasn’t lying when she had said that she didn’t like how they were treating Sirius - but she had gotten so absorbed by Dorcas that she honestly couldn't be bothered to put the effort in for anyone else. Marlene rarely ever got a reaction from her, and it was just so infuriating. 

It had become her new favourite hobby to rile the other girl up, analysing her to find out exactly what drew a response. Well, ‘hobby’ was a bit of an understatement. Perhaps someone who was more psychiatrically inclined would have called it an obsession... but Marlene wasn’t about to acknowledge it. It did unfortunately consume most of her thoughts, which she was self-aware enough to realise wasn’t the healthiest. She was just genuinely addicted to their whole back-and-forth. And it wasn’t as if Dorcas didn’t actually annoy her. She did. It was an outlet, mainly, for all of the other problems in her life. One which Marlene was happy to throw herself into the clawing arms of and be swept away. 

All of this would have been fine and well if it wasn’t so obvious that all of this was a distraction from the fact that Marlene wanted very badly to lay the other girl flat on a table and climb on top of her. Or be laid flat and climbed on top of. She wasn’t particularly picky either way. 

Yep, these sessions with Meadowes were a bad idea. 

“Why? I thought they were going well.”

Marlene turned to look at Mary, startled. Her red silk dress draped over her in a sort of effortless way, like an ancient Greek statue. She looked gorgeous. Her eyes were wide in silent question.

“Can you…” Marlene whispered to her in awe, “Can you read my mind?”

She honestly didn’t put it past her. Sometimes Marlene thought that their bond was kind of scary, like if they got too close they would just melt into one being. 

“What? No. You just said that you thought the sessions would be a bad idea and I asked why.”

Marlene hadn’t realised that she had said that last bit aloud. 

“Oh.”

Lily immediately burst out laughing, followed by Mary and Marlene. They must have looked a right state, strolling down the streets of the Hollywood Hills, barefoot with their heels in their hands. They were all leaning over each other, swaying from side to side periodically because they were too drunk to walk in a straight line. They were on their way home from a party, one which the boys had pulled out of at the last minute - something to do with Sirius not feeling well. In any other case Marlene and the girls would have driven straight to Sirius’, but Frank had told them that there were people at the party that they should meet and make a good impression on. 

“Well, why are the sessions so bad?” Mary repeated once she had calmed down a bit. Lily was still giggling quietly into her hand. 

“I just - well, she just - she’s just so - like - you know?” Marlene let out in a high pitch.

Mary blinked, “I don’t know if you’re too drunk to realise but that was in no way a full sentence.” 

Lily was in hysterics again, using her hands to fan her eyes. 

She tried again, “She just makes my feelings have a mind of their own. And I hate that.” 

Marlene sort of swayed with the force that she put in those last few words. Because she did hate it. It was a difficult thing to explain, but when you were as impulsive and emotional as Marlene, the only way you could impose a semblance of order was to give in. She went through every impulse with full force, so that it felt more like an active decision than something she was being swept away by. She hated the feelings that were complicated or confusing, the ones that felt like they escaped you, were separate from you. She liked when it was Marlene feeling the emotion. She didn’t like it when it felt like the emotion was using her as a doormat to walk on top of. 

The other two girls hummed in agreement, which she knew they would. Despite their differences, deep down they were all fundamentally the same: neurotic to the core. Not about the same things, of course, but it was a feeling they were all familiar with. An inner need for control. 

Like she was reading her mind, Lily spoke up, “You want to put Dorcas in a nice little box of what she means to you and treat her accordingly, but you can’t, can you?”

“Ouch, Lils, you don’t have to put it so bluntly.” Marlene winced. 

The other girl put an arm over her lovingly, “Well, what boxes do we have?”

“We have the ‘I hate you’ box,” Marlene began.

“Yes, why exactly is that?” Lily asked.

Marlene paused a second, trying hard to explain in a way that wouldn’t make Lily shove her down the side of the hill they were walking on, “Well, for starters there’s the whole Sirius thing-”

“Something which you’re very happy to let the others off the hook for.” Mary butt in.

“Yeah, well, it makes a lot more sense in my head when my friends don’t point it out.” Marlene replied gruffly, “Besides, she’s also mean.”

“But that’s only because you were mean to her first.” Lily countered, her voice slurring slightly.

“So that’s box one.” Marlene ignored her, carrying on in a louder voice. She could hear the other girls laughing behind her, but she decided to pick up the pace. This nighttime walk home wasn’t as peaceful as she thought it would be.

“Okay, okay, no more teasing.” Mary walked a bit faster in order to catch up with the other girl. She looked at her with bright, fake apologetic eyes, “What’s the second box?”

Marlene considered leaving it at that, but the thought of mulling through her feelings by herself one more time gave her pause. 

“It’s… well…” she looked skyward, taking a deep breath and biting the bullet, “Well she’s fucking hot, okay? I’m not blind.”

There was silence for a few seconds, before Lily broke down laughing, screeching something like “I knew it!” and pointing at Mary. 

Mary, for her part, glared at Marlene, “You know, I really believed you weren't so cliche.”

“I want my ten bucks, sucker.” Lily taunted. Mary started drunkenly fumbling through her purse. 

“You bet on me?” Marlene gasped at both of them. 

“No…” Lily trailed off, grabbing the ten dollar bill from Mary’s hand shamelessly. 

Marlene just huffed out a disbelieving laugh, running a hand over her face, “You know, you’re supposed to be helping me with this.” 

“And we will now that I’ve got my ten dollars.” Lily smiled gleefully. 

“Why don’t you do something about it?” Mary asked, much more helpfully. Well, it would have been more helpful if Marlene hadn’t already asked herself the question before.

“Dorcas and the band… they’re here for a while. I’m not - you know I’m not good at any type of long-term thing. It would end pretty quickly and just make everything awkward.” 

The other two shared a look. Marlene tried to ignore the pang in her chest at that. 

Lily breathed in, “Well, why don’t you try?”

“I just… can’t”

Marlene looked away. For all she told Dorcas the other day to be vulnerable, she wasn’t very good at doing it herself. Not about the things that mattered. She could be open about her other flaws all day long, but one mention of her romantic relationships and her brain just… shut down. Maybe she could be vulnerable if she was given the chance, it was just that her body physically stopped working whenever she thought about it too much.

Deep down, she knew it linked back to Emmeline. Just another thing that had irreparably broken that day. Marlene felt a wave of panic rise in her chest and pushed it down. 

Instead, she focused on her surroundings. To her right, gates that led to towering mansions were hidden behind leaves and palm trees. To her left, the hill sloped down to reveal the stretching city lights below them. They were quite high up, so that they could see for miles. Marlene held her breath in awe. She felt oddly like a god - everything looked so small from up here. 

She looked down at the city that had moulded her so much and asked herself whether she’d left her own mark at all. She remembered how she’d felt at seventeen, wanting so badly to make it big that she felt like she was bursting apart at the seams most of the time. She missed the spark of wonder and mystery that LA had produced when she was younger. 

Now, it all felt sort of hollow to her. It had seemed hollow then, too, but for some reason it hadn’t bothered her as much - just something else she had to work around on her way to the top. There had been a greedy fire in her chest that had kept her going, never stopping until she made her way to fame. The flame was still there now, except Marlene had nothing to feed it. It seemed like the fire was intent on swallowing her up from the inside out, using her body as its fuel. She felt spent up. 

She looked beside her at Mary and Lily as they stumbled their way down the road. In a city that was so fragile and ever-changing, Marlene treated her friends like the sturdy columns of ancient ruins, strong and constant in her life, and worshipped them accordingly. They had grown up together - they were still growing up together. With them, the city didn’t seem so hollow. No, instead it morphed into something of a time machine. A scrapbook that held all of their best memories and kept them safe within its streets. 

Mary breathed in, completely changing the topic and most likely spurting out the first thing that came to her mind, “Guys, if I was a city, what city would I be?”

“Paris, duh.” Lily answered instantly.

Marlene turned to her in shock, “Absolutely not. Mary would totally be New York.” 

They both clearly felt very strongly about this as their argument started reaching disproportionate levels. At one point Mary shushed them in between laughs because she was convinced the whole neighbourhood was going to wake up from the sound of their shouts. 

“It’s okay, you guys can have two different answers,” she bargained, attempting to settle the peace.

“Whatever…” Marlene mumbled, “Lily I think you’d be something Italian like Florence.”

“Awww,” Lily smiled warmly at the comment as if they hadn’t just spent the past few minutes in a screaming match. “I think you’d be Havana.” 

Marlene liked that, “My aunt was from Cuba. I went once when I was younger to visit her.”

“We should go sometime. I’ve always wanted to go.” Lily commented.

They lapsed into comfortable silence, each in their own little world. 

“I think you’d be LA.” Mary stated, clearly still in her own thoughts.

Marlene didn’t really know what to think about that. LA always meant so many contradicting things to her.

“Why?”

“I don’t know you’re just… you’re everything. Like LA. You’re like home.”

How could she respond to that? Marlene grabbed the other girl’s hand and squeezed it tight, hoping the gesture said enough. Mary squeezed it back and they continued walking home.

Their house wasn’t very far, so they got there pretty quickly. Immediately, they all flopped onto Marlene’s bed, still in the same clothes they had gone out in, and crawled under the covers. Sure, Lily could have slept in the guest bedroom and Mary could have slept in her own bed, but there was something about sleeping in the same bed after nights out that reminded them of childhood sleepovers, giggling and whispering after everyone else had gone to bed. It was comforting. 

When she woke up the next day, the other two were still asleep. Marlene moved around a lot when she slept and so poor Lily and Mary had been stuck sharing half of the bed between them while she took the other half. It was not a lot of space, but still, Marlene definitely thought that the other two were cuddling a lot more than was strictly necessary. Mary had one arm under Lily’s head and a hand in her hair, holding her close so that the other girl was snuggling into her neck. Marlene tried her best to hold back a laugh. Most of the time, their will-they-won’t-they made her want to put her head through a wall, but sometimes it was just… this. Two of the people she loved most in the world holding each other whilst they slept. Sometimes, it made Marlene’s heart want to burst through her chest. 

Eventually they woke up and the day carried on as normal. Neither of them seemed to mention anything, but Marlene would have needed to be stupid to not register the awkwardness in the air at breakfast. On the other end of the spectrum, this was one of the moments Marlene was definitely considering putting her head through the wall. Lily and her said goodbye to Mary, who had a shoot to get ready for, and then drove to the studio. Things were running completely smoothly until it hit around four in the afternoon.

Marlene was talking to Barty in the common room whilst trying very hard to ignore the presence of Dorcas Meadowes as she made herself some toast in the kitchen. Marlene had taken quite a liking to Barty. He was always ready to play along with whatever joke she was harassing everyone else with, and she appreciated that. Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming from a concerned-looking Remus Lupin.

“Hey Marls… have you checked out the list of songs for the album that Dumbledore has approved?”

Marlene shook her head, confused. 

“Pete just showed me,” Remus carried on in a stilted manner, not-so-subtly eying Barty, clearly unwilling to continue talking in front of him.  

“I’ll leave you two to it.” Barty smiled politely, before pulling himself up out of the armchair and walking into the kitchen to strike up a conversation with Dorcas. Remus sat down in the space that he left.

“There’s a song here that we didn’t perform to him but he’s put on the list anyways… umm… it’s called ‘Dani California’. I was wondering if you knew anything about it?”

Marlene felt her blood run cold.

“I- what?” She took the piece of paper from Remus’ hand and, sure enough, the song title was printed out halfway down the list. 

“Are you okay?” Remus asked in a quiet voice, his light brown eyes wide with obvious worry. 

“Yeah… I’m - excuse me.” 

Marlene didn’t really realise what she was doing until she was halfway up the lift at Phoenix Records. It was one of those tall downtown skyscrapers in which Dumbledore occupied a whole floor to himself. They had been with Phoenix since the beginning of their careers - it was how they had met Minerva, Frank, Alice, and Poppy. Honestly, they were the only reason Marlene hadn’t pushed to leave the label. Dumbledore had always been a sneaky bastard. 

Marlene headed straight towards his office door as the lift doors opened.

“Oh - I’m sorry but you can’t do that! You have to wait in the lobby until Mr Dumbledore is ready!”

She ignored the frantic shouts of the receptionist as she swung the glass door open, seeing red. From behind his desk, Dumbledore looked up with a look of blank shock. But Marlene knew better. Behind his facade she could discern his knowing look. He knew exactly why she was here.

Plopping herself down in the leather seat in front of his desk, Marlene lifted up her feet and rested them on it. Despite her nonchalant body language, she was almost vibrating with rage. It was probably obvious by the way she glared at the other man. 

“Can I help you, miss Mckinnon?” he asked in that whimsical way of his. He was wearing a set of grey flowing robes. Another facade. Marlene wondered how the rest of the LA hippies would react to this one sitting in a huge office with a glass wall facing out onto the city. Sellout. 

“Did you go through my fucking notebook?” she spat out. 

“Ah.” Dumbledore leaned back in his chair calmly, “This is about the album setlist.” 

“Yeah.” Marlene replied harshly, “It’s about the fact that I didn’t show you Dani California - or any other exec, for that matter. Hell, I didn’t even show Minerva - how the fuck did you get it?”

“I don’t think anger is going to help anyone in this situation-”

“Well, it’s either that or I smash your fucking desk to a million pieces, so you choose.” Marlene wasn’t particularly known for keeping her temper - she didn’t even try to deny it. She really would smash the desk to pieces. She felt like breaking something. How the hell did he get that song? Anger and panic threatened to overwhelm Marlene. She didn’t show anyone that song for a reason. She wasn’t ready.

“I would rather my desk stay intact.” the other man replied solemnly, a twinkle in his eyes like they were sharing a joke. Marlene may just cut out the middleman and break his nose instead.

“So? ” Marlene's breaths were short. She felt like she was about to explode.

Dumbledore paused for a moment in thought. After what felt like ten years, he spoke up, “The songs that you showed me were good - great, even - but none of them would make a story. None of them would keep the press intrigued, asking for more. It was what kept people talking about you after Under The Bridge - the pain in your lyrics.”

“You want pain? We’ve got pain. So many of the songs we showed you were about pain-”

“But none of them were about your dead girlfriend.” the other man interrupted. Marlene felt her breath hitch. Your dead girlfriend. The words rung in her ears.

Dumbledore carried on, “Tragedy sells, unfortunately, and yours is one that the press knows well enough to recognise but not well enough to be satiated by. They know that you lost someone in your past and vaguely how they died, they just don’t know exactly what happened. If you put this song on the album they’ll be talking for months.” 

“People will be talking for months either way. We’re Gryffindor Tower for fuck’s sake. We’re the most famous band in the world right now-”

“Maybe, maybe not. All I’m saying is that you won’t be sure; people fall into irrelevancy for less. It’s a tough industry, and you have to think about more people than just yourself when you’re in a band…” 

Marlene sat there, dumbfounded. Familiar alarm bells rang in her head. It was that soul-crushing need to stay relevant, to stay on top. This need to have people praise her. She stared at him for a while, only being received by an unemotional pair of light blue eyes. She couldn’t take it anymore. She got up and started marching towards the door. 

Just before leaving, she turned around to ask one last thing. 

“Did you look through my notebook?”

Dumbledore just looked up at her, features revealing absolutely nothing.

“Goodbye, miss Mckinnon.”

Marlene slammed the door on her way out. 

Her drive back home was a blur. She couldn’t go back to the studio - not when there was a bottle of rum under her bed with her name on it. It was alright to drink some - just this once. How could it be a worse alternative than the way her chest felt like it was imploding, crushing inwardly? Drinking wasn’t the best solution overall, she knew that, but sometimes it was the only thing that worked. 

It was the only thing that would make her forget, instantly, the very simple fact that she was about to sell out her dead girlfriend. 

Because it would be like selling her out, wouldn’t it? It would be like selling out all that Emmeline meant to her, that special moment they shared - one of the last moments they shared - all for a few more weeks in the spotlight. She couldn’t do it. She simply couldn’t. 

She was going to, anyway. 

Dumbledore was never wrong about these things; he had produced legend after legend. He knew what he was doing. That’s what gave Marlene the most pause. Not putting the song on the album wouldn’t just affect her. It could affect the whole band and all of their futures.

Was she just being selfish? Hadn’t Emmeline herself wanted it to be played out loud? She hadn’t asked Marlene to write the song just for her to keep it in her notebook, that’s for sure. Was this all just some silly hissy fit she was throwing, trying to keep the song locked away so that she didn’t have to deal with what it all meant to her? Was that fair to Emmeline? Was that fair to the band? Maybe she was being too dramatic. She wasn’t ready to perform it - just the thought alone made her want to tear her skin off - but maybe it wasn’t about her. Maybe she should just suck it up.

She was always making her issues everyone else’s problem. 

She felt sick. She tried to ignore the desperate way in which she burst through her front door, immediately going to her bedroom in order to grab the bottle underneath her bed. She didn’t want to think about it anymore. She didn’t want to think about anything. She wanted her breaths to stop doing the horrible, rattling motion they were doing. She wanted someone to hold her. She wanted it to be Emmeline. 

This was not a full-blown relapse, she kept telling herself. She repeated the fact over and over again as she poured the alcohol from the bottle straight. 

Half an hour later, she was sitting on her bedroom floor in the exact same position she had been when she had started drinking, except this time there was a comfortable dull to her thoughts. Everything had turned slightly fuzzy. Alcohol was the only thing that made her brain stop like this - not drugs, not anything else. She was trying to concentrate enough to pull herself onto the bed when the phone rang. The noise started getting on her nerves, so she picked it up. 

The voice on the other end was low and gravelly. Beautiful.

“Where the fuck are you?”

“Hmm?”

“You were supposed to be here like twenty minutes ago. I’m waiting in room three.”

She had completely forgotten about the guitar lesson with Dorcas. If she was in any other state, she might have cared. As it stood, Marlene was just excited at the prospect of distracting herself. 

“Something came up.” she replied, itching for some sort of argument. 

“And you couldn’t have told me?” she replied calmly. Now why did she do that? Why did she always do that? 

“Maybe. But I didn’t.” 

A pause. Marlene could hear a long-suffering sigh coming from the other end.

“Just make it up to me later.”

This was when her resolve cracked. If she was more sober she probably would have let it go on for longer. It was like two sides of her brain warring against each other: on one side was the desire to always keep her at arm’s length, not close enough to make any real damage and on the other side a deep-rooted need to impress her and make her laugh. 

“I’ll give you an extra long songwriting session tomorrow, deal?” she replied.

“There’s no session tomorrow. We’re going to James and Peter’s, remember?”

“Oh.” James asking Dorcas to come seemed like a lifetime ago, “Then the day after that, okay?”

“Hey, are you alright?” Dorcas’ tone seemed to get slightly softer. Or maybe Marlene just made that up. She was always doing things like that. Controlled too much by her heart over her head, as her mother always said.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“...Are you sure?” 

Marlene probably wasn’t doing as good of a job as she thought she was about not slurring her words. Would Dorcas come running for her like a knight in shining armour if she told her she wasn’t okay? The thought made her stop for a second, before she remembered that Dorcas most likely wouldn't. She probably didn’t care enough.

“Well, that whole climate crisis thing is stressing me out, but other than that I’m okay.”

“Well I’ll see what I can do about that.” Marlene could almost hear the smile in the other girl’s voice as she said it, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“See ya.”

The line went dead and with it Marlene was left alone again. She used the small burst of energy the conversation had given her to fling herself on to the bed. She lay there staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours, comfortably numb. 

She was pulled out of her trance by the sound of footsteps.

“Marls? Are you okay?” 

The voice didn’t belong to a girl and this confused Marlene. She was expecting it to be Mary. Who else would come to check on her?

“You didn’t come back to the studio so I wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

She recognised the voice as Remus’. With great effort, she looked over at him, trying to focus her eyes to see anything other than a shapeless blob. Eventually she managed to see a vague, human-like outline with a head of brown hair. It was nice of him to come. 

“Are you okay? You don’t seem…” his voice trailed off, presumably seeing the empty bottle beside the bed, “Do you need any water?”

Marlene shook her head, “It’s okay. Mary makes sure I always have one beside my bed.”

This didn’t seem to calm Remus, whose brow creased further in concern, “I- what is this, Marls? Is this… is this a relapse?”

Marlene blinked in surprise. Hearing the word aloud for the first time shouldn’t have shocked her as much as it did, but she couldn’t help but almost physically recoil from the word. It felt like he had spoken it into existence. Mary had never used it, although it was probably what she thought every time she came to wake her up in the morning.

“... I don’t know.” Marlene replied in a wavering voice. 

It was not like she’d ever been a hundred percent clean from alcohol, but strangely enough Marlene never saw that as the end goal. Her end goal was to be able to drink like a normal person, with friends or on nights out. Lately she had been doing… better. She hadn’t given in to the clawing sensation of drinking herself stupid every time she felt sad, at least.

But this… it felt like giving in. It felt like just another sign that she wasn’t strong enough and, god, Marlene wanted to be strong. She didn’t want to be this frail, easily breakable thing she saw every time she looked in the mirror. She wanted to feel like a small wind wouldn’t completely topple her over. 

Marlene felt her eyes start stinging with tears as she looked up at the other boy. She whispered, like it would take away from the gravity of what she was about to say, “I think… I think that maybe it is.”

She felt so small, like the world was caving in. Beside her, Marlene felt the bed dip as Remus’ arms enveloped her. She let herself sink into the embrace. Remus’ hug felt strong enough to hold her together, like she could break apart and he would just keep her in place. It felt safe. They lay like that for a while in comfortable silence.

Marlene took a deep breath, “Do you think about her?” 

“All the time. Sirius, too.”

“Yeah?” 

“He talks about her almost every day.” he confirmed,  “She helped him figure out who he was without his parents’ interference. I mean, Emmeline helped him figure out that he was a person without his parents’ interference. He’s never forgotten that and he’s never stopped being grateful.”

Marlene smiled, a warm glow unfurling in her chest. 

“You know,” he carried on, “she was the one who first told me to go for it with Sirius.”

“Really? I didn’t know that.” 

The other boy huffed a laugh, “I believe her exact words were: ‘That dumb boy is head over heels in love with you and if you don’t see it you’re dumber than he is’”

Of course she said that - it sounded exactly like her.

“Wait,” Marlene shuffled a little to be able to look the other boy in the eye,  “Why the hell did it take you two more years to make a move, then?”

Remus laughed, “Because I was dumber than he was.”

Marlene couldn’t help but mirror his laugh with one of her own. It was one of those moments where a glimmer of happiness took away the crushing weight of sadness for just a few seconds, only to have to deal with it again as soon as the laughter died down. 

“I’m sorry you keep having to look after me.” 

“What? No. Marlene, never apologise. You are never, ever, a chore.”

“Are you sure?” replied in a small voice. She felt oddly like a little child, just needing reassurance. 

“Of course.” 

Remus looked at her with such sincerity that all she could do was start crying again. She couldn’t even compose herself enough to say thank you. 

“I know I wasn’t very helpful after she died.” Marlene couldn’t find it in her to be embarrassed at the tears streaming down her face. “I know I wasn’t the only one in pain, but I couldn’t find the strength to comfort anyone else. I just couldn’t do it.” 

“That’s not true.” Remus shook his head with force, “You know, Sirius still talks about the fact that you bought him those vinyls on his birthday, because he knew how much pain you were in. He thinks you’re so strong - genuinely - and so selflessly caring because you were able to think of him, even if it was just a little, during one of the worst moments of your life.”

He remembered that? 

“But still,” he carried on, “even if you hadn’t, it would be okay. It’s- we’re family, Marls. It’s like a fucking blood bond. You can’t - you don’t have to earn it, you know?”

Marlene just nodded mutely, not knowing what to say. She would have been embarrassed if it wasn’t Remus she was having this breakdown to. The other boy just rubbed soothing circles into her back.

“Remus?” she asked after a while, still sort of hiccuping from the force of her crying, but having calmed down quite a bit nonetheless, “Can you read me something?”

“ ‘Course.” He stretched his arm out to the bedside table to grab the nearest thing he could find. He looked at the cover and read the title of her copy of The Waste Land. “isn’t this kind of depressing?”

“Deeply depressing.” Marlene nodded, “We need to talk about it sometime. But not today. If you open the drawer there will be another book.” 

Remus did just that, and pulled out a battered copy of Ficciones by Jorge Luis Borges. 

“I’ve been meaning to read this,” 

“It reminds me of home.” she said simply. “It’s in Spanish, do you think you can manage?”

“With the pronunciation, sure. I just won’t know what any of it means.”

“What do you mean? Your Spanish is really good now.” she looked up at him encouragingly.

“Only because that’s the only way you seem to be able to communicate when you’ve had too much wine.” he rolled his eyes with a smile. 

“Okay that’s fair. Still, give it a go?” she looked up with wide eyes. 

“Only for you.” he glared at her in mock-annoyance. Marlene just smiled back.

It only took a few minutes before she was lulled to sleep by the deep sound of Remus’ voice. It may have been difficult to explain to anyone who didn’t grow up speaking a second language at home, but she didn’t have to. The other boy understood. There was something so soothing about the sound of Spanish to Marlene. Not just the sound, but the difference in register and tone. It sounded like home; the clatter and noise around her as she stumbles through her house during a birthday as a child. It reminded her of the parts of herself she wasn’t able to carry with her all the time, but that were important to her all the same. It made her feel more tethered. 

Sometime later, Mary arrived. She didn’t say anything as she silently slid onto the bed next to Marlene, so that she was sandwiched in by both of them as she slept. 

The next day Marlene tried to carry on as usual. She returned Remus’ concerned glances with a smile and gave only vague recountings of the events of the night before to Mary, who had been worried ever since she got home. Each hour passed and Marlene felt a bit more collected as the day went on. By the time Mary and Marlene had to go home in order to get changed for the movie night, she was feeling better; she didn’t feel like sinking into her bed and letting it swallow her whole. 

That was until she had to start picking an outfit.

“Marls, you look really hot. Truly, I have never seen anyone make comfy clothes look so good.” Mary reassured her from the bed as she sat crossed-legged, cup of green tea in her hands.

“Really?”

“Yes. Besides, if Meadowes really cares about looks this much then she isn’t worth it.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Marlene rolled her eyes, “It’s not like I have my personality to fall back on. She hates me. My looks are all I have.”

“Yeah, you really screwed yourself over with that one…”

“Yes, yes, I get it, it’s all my fault. Can’t you just forget about it for one second and shower me with sympathy instead? Is that too much to ask for?”

Marlene hopped out of her pants and started wriggling into some new ones. Frazzled, she looked over at Mary. She felt oddly like she might cry. 

“Aw, come here.” 

Mary held her arms wide and Marlene launched into them like some sad toddler. Marlene always liked Mary’s hugs. They felt so strong. It was why Mary was the first she went to for any comfort. She was always such a sturdy, formidable force.

“Do you think I should wear the red pyjama bottoms and the white strappy top?” Marlene sniffled. 

“I think that if I was Dorcas and saw you wearing that I would go into anaphylactic shock just so you could perform mouth-to-mouth on me.” Mary smirked. Marlene smiled, so completely grateful to the other girl. “Now get up and get dressed. The only late I’ll allow is fashionably late.”

Marlene stood up, feeling a little bit sturdier on her feet. “If you make me stand outside for twenty fucking minutes again in order to make sure we are ‘fashionably late’ …”

“I don’t know why you bring that up as if you weren’t as on board with the plan as I was.”

Marlene’s stomach still felt sick from the events of the day before, but she was doing her best to push it all down and act like everything was okay. Mary, on her part, seemed to immediately understand that distraction was the tactic Marlene was going for in order to make herself feel better and jumped right in. They kept up a steady stream of chatter up until James and Peters’. When they arrived, the only people that were there were Sirius and Remus. Marlene caught a glimpse of Sirius dancing to Don’t Speak by No Doubt in the sitting room and trying to force Remus to do it with him as she made her way to the kitchen.

James and Peters’ house was exactly what Marlene imagined would happen if you gave eight year olds a three storey mansion and unlimited money to spend on decoration. It was on the smaller side, so the house was big but not big enough that it felt empty and soulless. The inside was filled with useless clutter and, okay, it was not like Marlene had any room to talk, but at least her clutter was sentimental rather than impulse purchases. Well, more often sentimental than impulse. Luckily, Effie had quite a lot of input in the decoration, which meant that it was still somewhat organised, with cosy rugs thrown everywhere and nice paintings. 

The girls entered the kitchen to see Peter hovering over the stove and James (predictably) sitting on the kitchen island and doing absolutely nothing to help the cooking process. If she was going to be honest, the kitchen was probably Marlene’s favourite part of the house. It had wooden counters and was painted a light sage green, with beautiful large windows. The window sills were adorned with cookbooks and home-grown plants such as mint and basil that they used in their cooking. Marlene sidled up next to James and returned the smile he threw at her.

“What you making, Pete?” Mary asked as she leant over the cooking pot. 

“Pasta.” was his short reply, not even bothering to look up.

“He’s in the zone.” James clarified, whispering to Mary, who nodded solemnly.

“Need anything?” Mary asked again.

“Well, now that you mention it…” 

Mary tried not to let her smile fade as she was given a long list of items Peter had forgotten to buy from the grocery store. Marlene sat smugly watching her, feeling like the universe was rewarding her in some way for her unhelpfulness.

“That’s what you get for asking.” James tutted. 

“And for being a smug asshole, you get to come with me to help!” Mary turned around sharply, flashing the other boy a sweet smile, much to his horror.

James’ pleas of “Please! Please Mary no! I’ll do your laundry for a week!” fell on deaf ears as he was dragged out of the kitchen by one determined Mary Macdonald. 

They left Marlene rambling to Peter, who would only give intermittent one word answers. She was honestly enjoying the one-woman show she seemed to be putting on. Eventually Remus and Sirius wandered into the kitchen.

“And? Did you finally get Remus to dance?” she asked Sirius as they walked in. The boy in question rolled his eyes.

“Unfortunately not, Mckinnon,” Sirius leapt up onto the kitchen counter to join her and leant in conspiratorially, “Although - and of course, you can’t tell anyone this -”

“Top secret, sure.” Marlene nodded.

“I did get… a head bop.”

“No!” she gasped back.

The ring of the doorbell interrupted their conversation. Remus happily obliged - much too happily, Sirius and Marlene both agreed - to go answer it, mumbling something about bullying on the way.

“Okay,” Peter turned suddenly, addressing Marlene properly for the first time since she had arrived, “Can you guys keep an eye on the sauce while I go to the restroom?”

Marlene and Sirius stared back in silence for a few seconds before looking at each other with the same horrified look, and turning once again back to Peter. 

“Keep an eye on… the sauce?” Marlene repeated.

“Pete, I don’t know…” Sirius began. 

“You just have to make sure it doesn’t burn.” Peter replied unperturbed, already halfway out the door, “I won’t be gone long.”

The silence that befell the room after he left was loud. They were the two people with the worst ability to cook. Sirius could probably burn a house down by using a toaster and Marlene almost has burnt a house down by using a toaster. Slowly, they edged their way towards the pot with the sauce in much the same way you would approach an unrestrained tiger,

“Sirius… I didn’t know that sauces could burn.” Marlene confessed in a whisper, “I mean, it makes sense now that I say it out loud but I was genuinely shocked when Pete said it. I didn’t know.”

“Oh my god I’m so glad I’m not the only one.” Sirius replied in a relieved voice, peering over the pan to get a better look.“How do you think we’re supposed to know if it’s burnt? What does burnt liquid even look like?”

“You know… like, burnt colour.” Marlene tried to reassure them.

“What?”

“You know.” Marlene looked up at his confused and clearly quite anxious grey eyes. She took a deep breath and tried again, “I feel like food burning is just something you know when you see it.”

That seemed to be enough for Sirius, who turned back to look at the stove. They both continued watching the sauce in silence. Slowly but surely, the steam around it started getting heavier, and small bubbles started forming on the surface of the liquid. Both of them jumped back as one of the bubbles popped. 

“Fuck, what are we supposed to do?” Marlene whispered loudly at the other boy and looked at him with wide, distressed eyes. 

“I don’t know!”

“Do liquids bubble when they’re on the stove? Is - is that a thing?”

“I don’t know! I literally can’t fucking cook to save my life I have no clue how to-” 

His panic was interrupted by another bubble popping, this one larger than before. Both of them jumped back, startled. If this went wrong, she was blaming it all on Peter. He should have known. 

“I think you’re supposed to stir it.” Sirius suggested, voice unsure but nodding forcefully. Marlene looked at him in silent question, “Well isn’t that what you always see people who are cooking doing? They’re always stirring something.”

That was true. Marlene made the executive decision to trust Sirius on this, because it wasn't like stirring the sauce could make it any worse. She grabbed a wooden spoon from one of the drawers and stood as far away as she could from the pot. Sirius stood right next to her almost like he was using her for protection as she stirred the sauce as if she was poking a grizzly bear instead. 

“What are you doing?” 

A voice made them both jump, almost knocking the whole pot with the spoon. Sirius turned around, Marlene still too in shock from nearly ruining the sauce that she stayed there in concentration, not letting it get out of her sight. 

“Reggie! You scared the shit out of me! How long have you guys been there?”

“Long enough to have a vivid image of you terrified of a pot of sauce for the rest of my life.” 

“Ha-ha.”

“Do you know where James is? I have to return something.”

“He’s at the store right now, but you could probably just put it back on his desk.”

“Which is…?”

“In his room.” Sirius clarified. 

“Okay but where is his room, Sirius?”

“Oh! I’ll show you.” he turned back to look at Marlene, “Can you hold down the fort alone?”

“I mean sure, but if the sauce gets ruined I’m blaming it on you, okay?” she grumbled. Why did people let her cook their meals - she wasn’t even allowed to cook in her own home!

“It’s okay, I’ll keep her company.” another voice replied. 

She recognised the voice instantly. Of course she did. Marlene was in too much of a fragile state after yesterday to be contending with… whatever the fuck this whole Dorcas thing was. She was keeping an eye on the sauce, for fuck’s sake! She already had enough on her plate!

“Thanks, Cas.” Sirius started walking away, “Just keep an eye on her - she’s not the best at cooking.” he stage-whispered with what Marlene knew was a sympathetic pout.

Without turning around, Marlene flipped him off. She didn’t keep her eyes off the pot as a figure approached her. 

“So are you ever gonna tell me why you didn’t come yesterday?”

She didn’t even look up from the stove as she replied, “Hmmm… probably not.” 

Great. Cool. She was keeping it totally cool. 

“Why, did you sit around all day waiting for me to come?” Marlene smirked as she finally locked eyes with the other girl.

Okay, maybe not so cool. She hoped it wasn’t obvious just how much she wanted the other girl to tell her she had waited for her. Dorcas leant back on the counter and Marlene felt she might actually swoon at the sight. God, she was pathetic. The other girl was wearing just a baggy t-shirt and striped boxers and, for a silly, stupid second, Marlene imagined that she was seeing her like that in a much different situation. The morning after, perhaps. 

“Not at all. I just think I could have saved myself the trouble of having to prepare myself mentally in order to spend time with you. It usually takes a whole day.” 

“So you spend the whole day thinking of me?” Marlene fluttered her eyelashes.

“I know, it’s horrible, isn’t it?” Dorcas nodded gravely.

Marlene tried really, really hard to stop the laugh that bubbled up. She failed, but it was the thought that counted. The other girl’s eyes softened minutely at that. They were a gorgeous, rich dark brown. Marlene looked back at the pot so it wouldn’t look like she was staring. 

“So,” Dorcas carried on, “You can’t play the bass guitar or cook. Ladies and gentlemen, we have found flaws in Marlene Mckinnon.”

She liked the way her name sounded in the other girl’s mouth. It made her chest flutter. God, she needed to get a grip and fast. 

“Yeah, well, at least one of my flaws isn’t songwriter’s block.”

Wow, smooth Marlene. At this point she was starting to sound scarily like a little boy on the playground who spends his time insulting a girl just because he likes her. Wait… that was exactly what she sounded like. She was the little boy on the playground. What the hell was wrong with her?

“At least one of my flaws isn’t being a total bitch.” Dorcas countered, calmly.

That was fair. Marlene deserved that, but she couldn’t help but feel the familiar urge to impress the other girl start kickstarting in her brain. Speaking to Dorcas for long periods of time seemed to crumble any resolve until she was left with a childish schoolgirl crush that left her wanting to do everything in her power to make Dorcas think she was pretty or funny or… special, in any way. 

“I wouldn’t really call it a flaw. I mean, coming up with insults in such a high-pressure environment really isn’t easy. It’s more like a skill.”

“High-pressure, as in, keeping an eye on a pot of pasta sauce?” Marlene could tell Dorcas was trying to stifle a laughter of her own. 

“I don’t think you realise how bad my cooking skills are. I mean, Mary literally doesn’t let me cook at home. We have a deal that I water the plants and she cooks.” 

“Why can’t she water the plants?” Dorcas asked curiously.

“Plants hate her.” Marlene informed her, “They seem to wither and die simply by being around her too much.”

“Maybe she just has a really bad aura around her.” the other girl suggested.

“I said that! I bought her this aura-cleansing spell thing from the flea market I used to always go to as a child - I still go, sometimes - and we did it but it didn’t seem to work very well.” 

“I am shocked.” she deadpanned.

Before being able to say anything, another bubble popped in the sauce, and Marlene jumped back, startled. She thought she was doing everything well, so why was it bubbling again? She was stirring, wasn’t she?

“How’s the sauce doing?” Peter’s voice carried through the kitchen as he came in.

“Oh my god thank goodness you’re here.” the words tumbled out of Marlene’s mouth in relief.

She let go of the spoon gently and backed away, so glad to be far away from anything cooking related. She looked up to see Dorcas watching her with vague amusement on her face. She couldn’t help but smile back. 

Marlene was starting to realise she was a lot more simple than she thought she was.