Peace of Mind
Can’t decide on which way to go
I understand about indecision
But I don’t care if I get behind
People living in competition
2nd March 1976
They did not attend classes the next day.
But they did go to breakfast on the following, if only a few of the Gryffindors.
Not any few, however.
The Marauders.
Bundled together, hard eyes as they glanced around the Great Hall. Noticing the gap at the Slytherin table - the deliberate space that had been left by the Averys and Dolohov. The eyes of the snakes, flicking towards them with utter fury. Incensed, likely only knowing half the story, and so very clear in the bullshit injustice they felt.
The Marauders sat at the very end of the Gryffindor table, right next to the doors. Plates untouched as they looked up at the table at the very end of the Hall. Waiting as they gazed at the Professors enjoying breakfast; expressionless and clearly exhausted, faces slack.
They spied the uneasy gaze of their Head of House - her weary nod their direction met with blank stares. The Head of Hufflepuff was absent, her place an uncomfortable reminder as they looked onto the middle of the table.
There, sat Albus Dumbledore, merrily munching on his eggs and toast. Eyes downcast, that is, until a cough from McGonagall seemed to rouse him.
Ara and Sirius Black watched Dumbledore finally stand with bated bread, hands tightly interlocked.
“One of our own was attacked on these ground by a fellow student.” The Headmaster announced, his thundering voice met with gasps and shouts from around the Hall. “The attacker has been expelled from this school under our Zero Tolerance Policy. This is meant to be the safest place in the country!” At the boom of his voice, silence filled the Hall. Barely a breath under the weight of their jovial Head’s utter disappointment. “Outside these walls, there is a Darkness brewing. I will not let it come inside this castle, and I will not let any student attempt to bring it inside! That is all.”
The Marauders did not stay any longer. They twisted from the Hall, ignoring the sharp gazes of half its inhabitants, all watching the group with great interest.
They were not seen again, not until the evening.
As the bustle of students tore from classes and towards the Great Hall, they fought against the traffic. Striding towards the kitchens for the same order as the day before. Enough food to feed an army, smuggled in an enchanted bag, hidden beneath James’s cloak.
Faces equally as tried as that morning, without emotion or any notion of expression at all.
But as they crossed paths with the Slytherin fifth years, a particular head of dirty blond locked onto the indigo in the crowd. Forcing his way through the mass, until finally he reached the Gryffindor girl.
Then, Barty Crouch Junior seized hold of Ara’s wrist, tugging her from the flow of students - pulling the pair quickly behind a tapestry into a small hidden nook.
“Barty!” She hissed, wrenching her arm free with a flabbergasted frown. “You can’t send me a note like a normal person?” Ara cocked a disbelieving brow, greeted by the sheepish smirk of her once, almost Slytherin friend.
“Not about this.” He sighed, his smile dropping as his tongue darted in that odd nervous gesture and he let out a little sigh. “Is it… I mean, is it true? Did Gregor… did Mulciber really crucio a Hufflepuff?”
“He did that and worse, Barty.” Ara replied in a soft voice. “Is he really gone?”
“As far as I know.” He nodded, wincing as his imagination bounded. “He told us his parents had enrolled him to finish his education at Durmstrung. Said he’d barely touched the girl.”
“Her name is Mary. Don’t spread it around, alright. But… well, one of you at least ought to know. She’s a person, and he got the minimum he deserved.” Ara sighed, pinching her brow. There were calls coming from the corridor; the other Marauders searching for her amongst the scatters of students. “Who else was there?”
“Just Avery and Snape.” Barty replied with a shudder, his expression so utterly grave and sunken.
“Don’t… don’t let them drag you to fill that gap, alright?” Ara fretted her hands.
“I’ll try.” He smiled without any trace of joy, nodding towards the tapestry that shielded them from view.
With an awkward nod, Ara drifted from behind the thick fabric, stepping back into the brightly lit corridor. There, all her Marauders stood. The map open in James’s hands as they waited by the alcove; clearly having figured out to check that for wherever she’d ended up.
“Good chat?” Her twin locked an amused brow as she blushed at their stares.
“Delightful.” She grit out. “Shall we move so he can get to dinner?”
Sirius rolled his eyes, slinging an arm deliberately over her shoulders to box her in - ignoring her scowl.
And that’s why I wanted a map, he sang in their mind.
Oh, bite me, she attempted to shrug off his arm, to little affect. Instead, he gripped her tighter and dragged her down the corridor. The other Marauders flanked them; Pete behind, Remus and James to their sides.
She was utterly trapped.
You all aren’t as slick as you think, you know?
Doesn’t matter, it’s still working, Sirius sang in their mind, utterly amused by her growing annoyance.
I hate you.
You wish you could, he snorted.
——
Ara returned to the Gryffindor dorms as the sun fell, careful not to jostle the bag as she quickly slipped into her dormitory.
Her girls were all where she had left them; sat on the floor in a pile of cushions and blankets, with her turntable playing Bowie in the corner.
“I bring sustenance.” Ara greeted them, met with cheers of gratitude as she gently pulled a very large plate-holder from her shoulder-bag. It was a small grey pouch, made of canvas and leather with faint silver and white beading. And should not have fit a dozen plates in some odd muggle contraption - stacked just apart enough for each meal to be pristine as Ara handed them to the line of hungry witches.
“I love a fish and chips.” Mary smiled faintly as she reached the top of the queue, accepting her plate with softly shaking palms. She smiled at the large battered cod, unaware that Ara had deliberately saved her the nicest fish and the most chips. “Good luck that they decided to serve it.” She hummed thoughtfully, also unaware that Ara had politely sent the request to the very lovely kitchen elves, earlier in the morning.
“Absolutely.” Ara smiled, watching her friends piled back into their cloud of pillows - propping plates on their knees or rogue cushions.
Half the girls in their year had congregated in the Gryffindor dorm, what with everything going on. Amelia Bones and Amelia Abbot were both sat beside Mary, occasionally offering consoling pats. Missing the flinches they provided in the poor girl.
Every Gryffindor girl was there, Alice by her Hufflepuff friends. As was Pandora, for she would see this burden through with the rest of them. As was her duty, she had said, as a witness to the aftermath.
They had all felt that. This feeling of knighthood, of being sworn as protectors in the ugly fallout of it all. The Marauders as centurions to guard the Tower, blocking the gossiping and bickering masses. And the girls, soldiers of a kind - burdened with a task they’d never wish on anyone else.
After they’d eaten, Mary quietly convinced her housemates to head back to their dormitory. All bleary eyed from the sleepless nights thus far, they begrudgingly complied. If only after they’d made the Gryffindors swear to not let Mary out of their sight.
As Amelia Abbot moved to the doorway, Amelia Bones spun to the Gryffindors with a little gleam to her eyes.
“A little token of Hufflepuff gratitude for… ell, everything.” The girl reached into her pocket, pulling something akin to a hand rolled cigarette, yet nearly double the length. “There’s some older Hufflepuffs that grow behind the greenhouses. They deal while they tend.” Amelia winked as she presented the spliff to the group with a great flourish. It was rolled with a thinned bit of parchment - clear from the familiar slight yellowness of the paper.
“Muggle weed or giggleweed?” Pandora asked with a cocked brow. A quick glance to the other girls had her stifling a laugh. Lily looked utterly flabbergasted and aghast, Mary utterly surprised and clearly a bit peeved at this secret her housemate had kept. And Ara, clearly filing away this knowledge to exploit at a later date. After all, Pandora was fairly certain that her indigo-haired friend and Remus were selling Muggle cigarettes to the Pureblood older students.
“The Muggle stuff. It’s easier to tend in secret, apparently.” Amelia grinned, offering the joint to the blonde.
“Oh, thank you.” Pandora smiled as she accepted the joint with a polite little nod. She was, after all, the safest bet to keep it safe.
“See you soon, Mary.” Amelia tipped her head in parting, carefully clicking the door shut behind herself.
The remaining girls spun to face each other with a range of excitement, the spliff held aloft by Pandora in the evening light.
“I mean… should we?” Ara asked the group, looking to her girls with a hopeful smirk.
“Might as well.” Mary shrugged.
That was how the Gryffindor girls, their Ravenclaw and their Hufflepuff friends, had found themselves stoned for the first time in their lives.
The process of smoking the spliff had been rather entertaining. Alice and Marls coughed violently on each turn, the rest all spluttering but holding their own. The air grew thick and smoky, a swirl of grey upon the ceiling. It snaked through the dim light, shifting through oranges and pinks against the charmed lighting.
Bit by bit, the energy of the room shifted. Chatter lulled to soft conversation, odd comments and little giggles as random hilarity hit each of them.
It was an odd sensation. An unease in their stomachs, like being on a swaying ship. Eyelids drooping as a tingle ran through their brains. Not akin to being drunk, a similarity to smoking too many cigarettes - that spacey odd feeling. Filled with a humour they’d been so lacing in the recent days.
That crease that lingered in Ara’s brow - the ever-present migraine pressing upon her eyes - had softened as they smoked. Not totally absent, but barely there on her slack face.
One by one, the girls all slumped with sleep. First Alice snuck off to her bunk, then Lily and Pandora - the two opting to share Lily’s bunk that night. They waved goodnight with tired smiles and stifled yawns, disappearing behind the curtains of the bunk.
“Finally!” Marlene giggled as Ara shot clumsy silencing spells at the shut curtains. “I’m left with the coolest of the lot.”
“Oh, cheers, Marls.” Ara beamed, shifting to pull a pack of cigarettes from behind her knee - offering it aloft for the other two. They accepted with smiles, letting Ara light their smokes with her Muggle contraption. “You’re pretty cool too.”
“Would be cooler if you’d finally agree to cut my hair.” She laughed, stifling a choke on the smoke in her lungs.
“Andy’s hairdresser cuts mine!” Ara raised her hands in defence, wobbling slightly at the gesture. Mary offered a consoling pat to her shoulder. “I could give you her number though. She’s a Muggle, so don’t be all Pureblood.”
“Oh, please.” Marlene scoffed. “As if you weren’t the biggest Pureblooded Princess in first year.”
“Yeah, right.” Mary snorted as she wagged a finger Marlene’s way. “You were so much more of a case. At least Ara knew about decent music. All that Wizarding crap you listen to is truly pants, Marlene.”
“Hey!” She pouted, crossing her arms over her chest and nearly dropping her cigarette. “You said you liked The Womping Brothers.”
“I say a lot of things.” Mary shrugged.
“You’re a snake in a badger suit, you are.” Marlene accused, pointing a finger Mary’s way. “And I’m off to bed.” With that, she awkwardly stubbed her barely-smoked cigarette in the ashtray, salted adieu as she stumbled to her feet and dragged her feet towards her bed. The remaining pair of girls laughed as she stripped off her top and flopped face first onto her mattress.
“I’m glad I came here.” Mary smiled, though her eyes were slightly clouded as she turned to Ara. “After…” her breath hitched, hands fidgeting in her lap - fingers twisting the cigarette as she brought it to her lips, “I managed to get here, since it was closest. The Fat Lady let me in when she saw the state of me, told me she’d fetch the matron.” She laughed humourlessly.
“McGonagall was the first ever adult to tell me they were proud of me.” Ara confessed with a laugh, hers much more mirthful. “And I once yelled at Moaning Myrtle ‘cause my ex-fiancé tried to curse away my autonomy.” She continued, a little less cheerfully.
“Life isn’t fair.” Mary sighed, looking to Ara with utter understanding. Reaching out a hand to squeeze the other girl’s. “I’m glad here was closest. I don’t think… I think it would have been a lot worse if it weren’t for you.”
“I am good at fetching food.” Ara nodded sagely.
“Oh, shove off.” Mary giggled. “You’re better than a ferryman. You’re the only one who understands.”
“I wish you didn’t.” Ara’s humour dimmed as she squeezed Mary’s hand back. “And I’m sorry that it happened here. It’s meant to be safe here.”
“Nowhere is ever truly safe.” Mary shrugged, a yawn escaping her lips unwillingly. “And I’m sorry that your home wasn’t safe either.”
Ara merely shrugged in reply, watching as Mary’s eyes drooped a little and she stifled another yawn.
“We ought to head to bed.” Ara commented, casting a tempus and frowning at the late hour.
“Oh, I didn’t think of that.” Mary frowned, gnawing at her upper lip. “I don’t want to wake Alice.”
“You can bunk with me, if you like.” Ara offered the fretting girl. “But I’ll warn you, I kick in my sleep.”
“I’ll take those odds.” Mary yawned, smiling in gratitude as she moved to the bathroom to change. The rest of the girls had simply donned their pyjamas while still in the room, used to changing in the dorm with an audience.
Even Ara, though often she hid away to shield her scars from view. She was so often turned away from the other girls, unwilling to see their pity at the silver sheen to her veins, or the crackled remnants of broken skin.
She tucked herself in with her favourite flannels on. A soft glow of blue flames in a jar above her head - tied with some ribbons one night after fretful slumber.
Mary joined her, weight slumping into the mattress beside her as she whispered a soft hello.
“You smell like toothpaste.” Ara murmured, tilting to lie sideways to face the girl. In the soft light, she looked so much younger than sixteen. Curls, like Ara’s own, if so much more expressive as they haloed her head. Not like Ara’s hair now, with it’s sleek straightness, save for the crinkly roots that she spelled flat each morning.
“You don’t.” Mary giggled quietly.
“I used a charm.” Ara promised with a laugh as she leant upwards to pull the curtain and mutter a silencing charm - sliding her wand onto her bedside table beside Mary’s. “I’m not uncivilised.” She declared as she flopped her head back onto her pillow.
“Just inbred.” Mary pointed out, the two giggling at the remark.
“Harsh, if accurate.” Ara begrudged, shaking her head. “But you won’t smell fish on my breath.”
“Well that’s obvious, since you didn’t eat any of it.” Mary replied softly, her lips tilting upwards sympathetically. “I think you might have had a few chips, but your plate was nearly full when the elves collected it.”
“Are you going to tell anyone?” Ara whispered uneasily, looking up at her friend with fear in her gaze.
“Do you need me to?” Mary asked sadly.
“I have it under control.” Ara swore, though the wave in her voice betrayed her.
“Do you?” Mary’s voice was so very kind, and so very full of understanding.
“Over last summer, I… Flint,” she let the name fall from her lips, almost a growl, “I don’t even know entirely what he did. But he cursed me, and he kissed me. Neither made me feel particularly in control of my own body.”
“I feel unmoored.” Mary sighed, the confession slipping with a pained wince.
Gently, Ara pulled the duvet from beneath her friend and slipped it over her - as though it could pull her back. Could give some semblance of security to the girl whose scars could not be seen. She leant forwards as her arm still rested around the girl, and gently traced a circle on her shoulder.
“I’m so sorry, Mary.” Ara whispered against her hair, kissing the crown of her head. “You deserve better.”
“As do you.” The girl whispered back, snuggling deeper beneath the covers. “I won’t tell anyone, Ara. Just… promise you’re really handling it.”
“I’m trying.” She swore. “Do you promise you’ll be alright?”
“I’ll try.”
——
In the bleary earliness of morning, Sirius Black was begrudgingly stalking the halls of Hogwarts. Uncloaked but coated by a disillusionment charm, with familiar parchment in his palm.
His mind had woken him before the sun, with a sharp prick. A headache, from across the bond, with a familiarity he knew all too well. Ara had gotten better at hiding her nightmares from him, and though he did not glimpse them much now, he still felt their aftereffects. He still felt the echos of her migraine, that wretched sharp tinge she’d felt since ruddy December.
He had planned to ask her how she was and all that junk, but when Ara had started getting dressed and tried to mist over the bond deliberately, well… he’d gotten bloody curious.
James’s cloak wasn’t anywhere he could find, so he’d snatched the map and begun to sort-of hunt his sister through the castle. Careful not to get too close to her mind, though still skimming her rage and focus across the bond.
It was as he watched her venture down into the dungeons, that his pace sped up and a horrible feeling twisted in his gut. The feeling he got whenever Ara was about to start a fight.
The other Marauders had all wondered how he’d been able to get them to the pitch in time to still witness the catastrophe that was Dolohov and Ara’s duel. After all, it was a bloody great trek away. He hadn’t really known how to explain it. Just that he always knew when Ara was about to fight a person, and it left him rather jumpy.
So he trudged the hallways that morning with stifled yawns and keen eyes. Blood thumping in his ears as he inched closer. Until, right as they rounded on the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room, she spun around.
“I know you’re there.” She called into the hallway, eyes scanning the empty space. “I mean, really, Sirius? You were peering into my feelings for half that ruddy walk. I’m not an idiot.” Ara crossed her arms over her chest, tapping a foot as she waited.
Begrudgingly, Sirius pulled the cloak from his head. Holding it as he sheepishly smiled at his twin.
Surprise? He winced as she poked him rather harshly over the bond; the touch almost static with a cringe of her migraine.
How did you find me this time? She glared as he approached.
“I followed you with the map.” Sirius admitted, holding up the parchment to his sister’s scowl. Oh, don’t look at me like that! You’re the one that wandered off before dawn. Anything could have happened!
“Nothing would have happened!” She snapped.
“Oh, sure.” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “What are you up to anyway?” He asked with great suspicion. For a moment, he thought that she might actually lie. Say some crummy reason for her antics. Instead, she offered the most vague statement he’d ever heard her utter.
“There’s retribution to be had.”
“The hell does that mean?” Sirius raised a brow as he scoffed, inching even closer.
“Mulciber might have been expelled, but that hardly changes anything!” Her arms were so tight around her chest, it was like she was hugging herself. “Avery and Snape were there too. And they can’t get away with it!” She hissed.
“What were you planning? Were you gonna ruddy ambush them and challenge them to a duel in their dorm?” He spoke with a scoff, rolling his eyes. He nearly laughed at the notion, that is, until he saw the nervous look on his sister’s face. “Oh Godric, you were planning to duel them in the dorms.” A bubble of laughter escaped his throat, before his brow furrowed and he realised just how stupid that plan was. “What would it accomplish?” Sirius growled, throwing his hands in exasperation.
I mean, really. She was meant to be the smartest Black, and yet sometimes when she was angry she made truly dense decisions.
“I’m hoping to do some good in the world.” She quipped back, voice filled with biting sarcasm.
“Doing ‘good’ is finishing our ruddy animagus transformations for Moony! It’s not trying to get revenge.”
“He raped her!” Ara snapped, her twin flinching at the words. “I don’t care if he’s Marked, or soon to be. He fucking raped her and there are two boys in that dorm that watched and stayed fucking silent. And I will not let it be met with silence. I will not let her go through it, not alone.”
“Alright.” Sirius spoke after a moment, his voice quiet and filled with shame and sorrow. “But you’re not doing it alone.”
Her shoulders drooped as she nodded.
“And we aren’t starting right bloody now.” Sirius continued with a soft sigh, smiling gently as he inched closer to wrap an arm around her shoulders. “Come back to the dorm and have a kip.”
“Alright.” She sighed. “I suppose we haven’t done a sleepover in a while.”
“Come on then.” He smiled as a soft chuckle slipped from his throat.
Despite it all, at least he could keep her safe from herself. It may not have been much, but it was enough.
It had to be.