Some Merry Mckinnons
Christmas at the McKinnon's was... interesting. Marlene had never gotten along well with her parents, thought they still loved each other the way a pair of wild tiger cub siblings might, minus the threat of getting to mad and killing each other. That was never a good thing to have.
When Marlene was a child, she'd look at the white-with-snow fields outside her house, and by the dim yellow light of her porch lantern she'd see fun shapes. A lion, prowling the suburbs of her quaint hometown, glaring at the little brown and grey mice and sometimes chasing them. A princess dressed in pink, silver and white flowing nightclothes and a tiara of gold, running from an all to familiar lion, chasing dreams of freedom and adventure.
Sometimes the shadows would bring her comfort. An old shadow, forged behind a tree in the forest near her home where light often couldn't, or wouldn't, reach through the dense canopy of green above the wood. The old shadow showing an old story of an old woman on Christmas eve, giving out freshly baked bread and ham and all sorts of greens to children in the snow.
Marlene used to envy the shadows, back when she was a more imaginative child. Then as she got older, she'd pity them, as they were not as free as she would have thought. People, animals, art, always on the edge of light but always escaping it and twisting itself up to avoid the glow and the warmth it brought.
Though Marlene had not seen them, or willed her brain to see them in a few years, she still often thought of them. While her parents were arguing in hushed tones and whispering only the sharpest of words, the shadows were there for her. Not anymore though, so she was stuck having to listen to her mother gossip about her least favorite cousin, and her dad disprove the theories and sniff his head in a way only Walburga Black should have been able to.
Christmas was dreadful.
This year was no different, except for the fact Marlene would be leaving 5 days after, just in time to arrive at Hogwarts and throw a New Years party fit for the crazy seniors at Marlene's old high school. James and Sirius were a bit crazy when it came to that, but they could never escape their posh and reputation holding upbringing, so they had nothing on bored suburbs kids.
Ding Ding Dong
Marlene's doorbell rang out, a shrill and unusual cry for a doorbell but not one that was unheard of. It ought to have been be Marlene's Aunt Marge, her favorite Aunt if she did say so herself. Aunt Marge was the nicest of aunts, and didn't take every chance possible to be a raging homophobe who blamed the first rocket crash on the gays. It was nice when a person did that.
Alas, it was not Aunt Marge, but Aunt Petunia. Marlene had heard from Mary that Lily had a sister named Petunia who was also the worlds biggest knob, so Marlene now simply assumed every Petunia she encounters is not the nicest. Aunt Petunia was the worlds worst aunt, being the main raging homophobe who blames the first rocket crash on the gays.
Thinking it was Aunt Marge, Marlene rushed from the nice coziness her bedroom offered her. She'd spent much time as a kid here, and it showed in her poorly drawn artwork on the wall her parents wouldn't hang on the fridge, her failed Science fair project in a dusty corner, and her nest and chest of blankets on the floor and bed.
Her feet banging on the stairs, Marlene hurried to answer the door, for she did not like to think of sweet Aunt Marge on the doorstep waiting out in the cold December air. It would be a rather mood damper if the first family reunion guest to show up showed up frozen to death.
Throwing open the old oak door and letting the wood bang onto the thin brown walls of the house, Marlene's joyful expression almost immediately turned sour, imitating one who might have smelled something very unpleasant in a public restroom.
"Oh, my sweet Marlykins!" Aunt Petunia cried, pushing into the foyer of the McKinnon household. The sickening and childish nickname Aunt Petunia had given her was another completely justified reason for Marlene's hatred of her mother's sister.
Aunt Petunia lunged forward and hugged the younger girl, smushing wet and slobbery kisses on her forehead while Marlene tried to wriggle away from her aunts suffocating wrath love and affection and still trying to be polite because, ya know, family issues.
"Oh, hi Aunt Petunia." Marlene squeezed out, still recovering from the attack on her lungs and still wanting to be polite, because, ya know, family issuses.
"Where's your brother? He should be home by now, shouldn't he? Wouldn't he want to see his favorite aunt again?" Aunt Petunia smiled a large smile, one of the only things that gave her face a chance of looking good. "Oooooh, Danny!"
Marlene sighed. It was just like the old grouch to completely ignore her. Normally she would have been fine with this treatment, as talking to the old hag took lots of her energy and barely left any enjoyment or hopefulness in her soul for Aunt Marge. Not to mention Marlene was quite sure Aunt Petunia was nobody's favorite aunt and never would be, unless she drastically changed her political views and her nicknames for the McKinnon children.
Danny did not come out of his room.
Marlene couldn't blame him, really, but it would have been nice to have him there. During year 8-9 for her, when the shadows had first started fading and she first started becoming a social recluse, Danny had been her only friend. Then of course he'd left to play rugby or whatever, and she was miserable. She couldn't blame him for leaving, but she did resent him just a bit for it.
Marlene went back upstairs, listening to snippets of her mom and her aunts conversation about assorted politics, sports, politics, fridge photos, and politics float up to where she perched at the top of the plain and not at all lavish stair case that her dad used to complain about. Speaking of her dad, Marlene could hear her mom snapping at him or him snapping at her whenever their opinions differed, which was quite a lot if Aunt Petunia didn't interrupt their quarrels and bickering.
Marlene was thankful for that bit of dear old auntie at least.
At last, more members of the family started arriving. Aunt Marge, who brought her adopted kids and the best friend/roommate she had adopted them with, Granny and Pops, and a few more Marlene didn't care to name. That was when Marlene's cue to entertain the littles came in, and she gladly accepted it, mostly because anything was better than Aunt Petunia calling her Marlykins again.
Marlene loved little kids, she really did, but her cousins could be a bit to little sometimes. Her dad was the oldest and had had her and Danny at a young age, so her cousins were a bit on the younger side. Mary had gushed over them, calling them little balls of adorableness, but to Marlene they were just little balls of annoyance. Only Candyland could keep them entertained and Marlene really didn't fancy a night of that, but resigned herself to it while the adults chatted.
A little past 10 was when the tinys of the family were forced to sleep in the guestroom, and a little past 10 was when Marlene had finally gotten a chance to talk to her favorite aunt. Luckily Aunt Marge and her roommate came to her first.
Aunt Marge had always been a lot like Mary. Very blunt, skeptical, and a smart Alec, yet a little fanciful or whimsical at sometimes. That's one of the reasons she was Marlene's favorite aunt. With her gorgeous diluted red hair, and keen fashion sense on point enough to rival Alice's, it was clear she was a bit on the distant side of blood relations, but for all that mattered she was the closest to Marlene.
"So, Marls (a perfectly acceptable nickname, take note Aunt Petunia)," Aunt Marge walked over to where Marlene was reading a novel Remus had lent her, her best friend trailing behind her. "Any boys strike your fancy? I know you're getting that age, year 11 aren't you?"
Aunt Marge was way behind. The first person Marlene had liked was a girl in primary school named Emma, who moved after some incident Marlene couldn't recall at the moment. Marlene made the definitely not just thought of decision to tell the pair about Dorcas, using gender neutral terms because it's the 70s and you can never be to safe.
"Well, there is this person..."
And that was when Marlene launched into an all out deep dive about Dorcas, referring to her as they the whole time. She noticed some quizzical stares shared between the two women when Marlene mentioned "their beautiful braided hair" or "their wire glasses that frame almond eyes set above perfectly red cheeks" but couldn't think much of it, as she was busy describing how perfect Dorcas was.
The friends glanced at each other, before Aunt Marge stepped forwards and whispered, "Is this person, by any chance, a girl?"
Marlene's cheeks went very red, while Marge's friend, who Marlene now had a suspicion was a bit more than that, just nodded. That was probably the best partner for someone like Marge.
The older woman laughed a little, then sent Marlene a smirk. "I'm guessing you've figured out what we are too, then?"
Marlene nodded again. She was a little stunned and short of words at the moment. First of all, someone in her family was on her side. Second, she had just come out to someone in her family.
The rest of the week Marlene couldn't stop beaming, except for when she got back on the train to Hogwarts. A gal does have to throw a raging New Years party at some time.