Voice Rings Out Like A Storm

“As if I would have the audacity to ask anyone but you- you dear Maren, were exactly who I had in my minds eye.” The witch mused with a light wiggle of her brows, before a brighter smile pulled onto the edge of her lips. Frankly after everything that had happened at the March, Marlene felt like she was longing for even a piece of normalcy. Knowing Maren was always reliable for a good time and truly enjoying her air for the dramatics; having not caught up with the other witch for what seemed like forever, it felt like the perfect medicine in Marlene’s eye. What better to forget life’s troubles than drinks and gossip with a close friend? Downing one of the shots in front of her with ease, her nose scrunched lightly as the burn of the firewhiskey hit the back of her throat. “Drink up Linwood, that ones for you.” The witch nodded lightly at the other shot on the counter. Picking out her coins from her pocket and leaving them on the bar top to pay for the drinks. “’Ugh please-” The witch whined as she rested her hip on the bar. “If I don’t get liquor in me stat I might just fall into a pit of self-despair and trust me that’s not pretty.” She spoke dramatically, before a light smirk pulled onto her features. “Besides- I need to know all about what you’ve been up to lately. And if you don’t have any fun sexcapades to share, or even just a cheeky date gossip I might just disown you. I need to live vicariously through someone since it’s been like the Sahara desert down there.”

-

“Oh you’re too kind.” Maren fluttered her lashes as she picked up the shot, using her too sweet customer service voice. Usually, when she used that voice, she was about to follow up with a, ‘but I can’t’, but with Marlene it was more of a joke. Maren had gotten better at doing shots as she aged, no longer grimacing and coughing as it went down as she had when she and Marlene first started attending parties in the Gryffindor common. These days, she didn’t even need a chaser, and the firewhiskey slid over her tongue and down the back of her throat with ease. “Okay, now I’m fortified. Let’s go.” Maren shrugged on her jacket and tossed her hair over the collar, then linked arms with Marlene and pulled her toward the door. 

“Well we can’t have that. Pits of self-despair are strictly forbidden.” She wagged her finger at Marlene, but she was still smiling. Maren liked to think she knew Marlene well enough, by now, to know when she needed a heart to heart and when she needed just some good old fashioned fun. Tonight was definitely the latter, she was certain. She was also certain that after a few drinks and some dancing, all thoughts of self-despair would be gone from Marlene’s mind.

Emerging into the not quite cool night air, Maren bit back a sigh. She’d never made a conscious choice not to tell Marlene she’d sworn off dating, but now here they were, several years  and several increasingly thin excuses after the fact and it had never quite come up. When Maren first found out about her veela blood, she hadn’t wanted to tell anyone about it, and she still didn’t, really. It made it hard to explain that she wasn’t dating when she didn’t want to get into why. Maybe, this could have been an opening, but instead, Maren leaned her head against Marlene’s shoulder and squeezed her arm. “You can’t disown me, you love me too much.” Maren hoped Marlene wouldn’t notice her ignoring the actual question.

@marenebba​ 

“I highly doubt you miss my mug, and yes I did. Didn’t know that you would see it through without a price to pay,” James smirked staring at his friend. There was no doubt in his mind that he cared about her as much as he did some of his other friends. But there was also an understanding, a sort of unspoken understanding that they had a weird relationship. One moment they were berating each other, the next moment they were cracking up and daring someone to do something crazy. This was one of those days he hoped it would be that. It would be her trying to make him lose a bet, and he would happily accept. As it reminded him of simpler times.

James pushed aside the random assortment of things in the middle of the table and leaned close. “So Maren please tell me what exactly you want to do,” his lips quirked a bit again into a smirk as he kept eye contact.

-

Maren blew out her cheeks with a huff. “Fine, you caught me. I’m bored and everyone else is busy.” It was one of the downsides of being one of a few without a proper day job. She rolled her eyes. “Just don’t say I never tried to make you feel special.” He could definitely still say that, and probably would, if it suited him. Maren found she was comfortable with the role of James Potter’s Ego Deflator, but before she’d taken up that mantel, they’d just been friends who dared each other to do stupid shit. It was that friendship she was leaning back on, and today, she had something special in mind.

Maren helped James clear away the detritus of the distraction she’d concocted while waiting for him, various glasses and bottles that the waiter had provided with an increasingly bemused expression. Then, into the center of the table, she slid two glasses full of thoroughly unappetizing liquid of a cloudy, greenish-brownish color. She’d forgotten exactly everything she’d poured into the glasses, but since it was all readily available from the bar, she was mostly certain it wasn’t poisonous. There was definitely champagne, for bubbles, and hot sauce, and bitters, maybe some tomato juice? She tucked her hair behind her ears in preparation. “The rules are simple. The first person to down their glass wins. I’ll graciously let you set my stakes so you can briefly pretend I won’t kick your ass.”

laurel-linwood​:

.

Laurel hated the what had been a joyous and successful protest had now become a nightmare to her. Sure she had been enjoying her time shouting and meeting so many people who showed up for support but having been around when Benjy had been discovered, it was an image she couldn’t get out of her head. And she tried her hardest to forget what she saw and heard, trying her best to keep the smile on her face because she knew she was stronger than that and she could get through anything life threw at her. She had pushed through her bullies in school, she had continuously gone through dangerous missions for the Order, she was currently investigating a whole establishment where she was surrounding herself with dangerous co workers, she could do anything. But when faced with the seriousness of this impending war between the Order and some Dark Lord, she froze.

Though as hard she tried, she knew her tough facade was easily seen through by her sisters, especially with how close she was with Maren and how she hadn’t always been her bubbly self at work. So when she was suddenly awakened by the youngest of the Linwoods next to her in bed, she sighed as she rubbed her eyes to wake up more, “Let me guess I don’t really have a choice in the matter do I?” Laurel asked, looking at her younger sister, they hadn’t had time to bond just the three of them lately and she could only assume her more reserved attitude must’ve been the reason they wanted to tonight. “Fine, fine, Adairia’s going to have to keep them coming tonight because I most definitely need more than one.” || @alluring-adairia​ || @marenebba​

“Oh trust me, I’m aware.” Adairia laughed, as she entered the room, balancing three margaritas in her small hands. As she placed them on the nearby table, handing the one with the little umbrella Laurel, she took the time to watch the scene and smile. It had been some time since the last time they had a night just for themselves, with the help they gave to the Order, and the late night shifts Adairia would assure after the other workers were beginning to get tired. Laurel seemed pretty shaken after the events of the march, and seeing Maren take care of her brought some warmth in her chest. Usually, it was the two of them who made sure the youngest was safe and sound no matter what, and to see the tables turn in such way reminded Adairia how close the three had become through the years.  Slightly shoving Laurel to one side of her bed, she took a seat next to her, taking a sip of her own drink. “Do you want to talk about it? If not we can talk about all the men Laurel has been running into recently, are any of them trying to seduce you?” Adairia teased, grinning at the youngest of the three. 

@marenebba​ @laurel-linwood​

-

Maren knew that her sisters saw her as someone to be protected, but for Maren, that wasn’t about age it was just what they did for each other. Maren felt as responsible for her sisters as they were for her, because they were Linwoods. It had always been the Linwood women against the world, for as long as Maren could remember. Even in the days of Linwood Lodge, which to Maren were the golden days of her childhood, there had been those who whispered and glared and crossed the street when the notorious Linwoods passed by. As long as the Linwoods were together, it never mattered.

It was one of the reasons Maren had stepped up when it came to helping Laurel through this, because she felt guilty that she hadn’t been there that night. Laurel had been alone, in what to Maren was the most important sense of the word, because she didn’t have her sisters with her. Maren hadn’t been there. So she was determined to be there for Laurel now, to not leave her when she needed her sisters. 

Maren was certain that Laurel needed to talk about what had happened that night and how she was feeling. In her experience, sisterly heart to hearts cured a multitude of ills. When she’d broken up with Sirius, she hadn’t stopped listening to “Landslide” until she’d been able to come home and talk it out with Laurel and Adairia. She wanted to push Laurel, but she was trying to be delicate, or at least more tactful than usual, so she followed Adairia’s lead. They could ease into it. “Oo, yes, let’s talk about boys!” She settled into Laurel’s other side balancing her margarita expertly in one hand.

      polishing glasses with a stray dishcloth as the wix listened intently,   mary’s doesn’t miss a beat in jumping to maren’s defence.   ❛   no…   no,   of  course  not!   ❜   they reply,   dark brows furrowed lightly as they shake their head dismissively,  a doting smile upon their lips,   ❛   i  know  exactly  what  it  feels  like,   wanting  to  say,   or  do  anything  to  take  your  mind  off  of  the…   terrible  things  that’ve  happened.   especially  in  a  case  like  this,   it  does  no  one  any  help  to  keep  bringing  it  up.   ❜   mary’s words pertain to benjy but their mind wanders back to their own experience,   how little they spoke of it,   always anxious to steer clear of it altogether as to avoid reliving it.   even a single second of it.   there was no denying just how deeply mary felt for benjy in this regard,   acutely aware of how many questions would be thrust his way once he regained his strength,   how he’d have to relive it over and over in order for somebody to be brought to justice for what’d happened to him.   it prompts a heavy,   pensive sigh from the wix,   eagerly taking the blonde’s hand in theirs and giving it a loving squeeze,   ❛   i  just  hope  people  are  more  wary  of  that  fact  when  benjy  recovers…   ❜

-

Maren picked back up her rag and went back to polishing glasses as Mary spoke, the task feeling less odious now that she had company. She nodded along as she listened to Mary, guessing at the double meaning behind their words. She remembered Mary’s ordeal at the hands of Mulciber well or at least, she remembered the aftermath of it. The anger on the wix’s behalf that covered the very real fear that something similar could happen to Maren herself. She knew Mary didn’t like talking about it, but she still had to ask. “How are you holding up? I hope it’s not dredging up too many bad memories for you.” Maren was just as eager to take Mary’s hand when they reached out, and she returned their squeeze with feeling. “Benjy’s strong, just like you, he’ll come back ‘round.”

with: @marenebba​

Pale ale set down in front of him, Remus looked at it lovingly before taking hold of it and taking a long overdue sip. Days like the ones he had been having recently required pale ale and The Fountain of Fair Fortune stocked the best ones. The Wizarding World was superior to the Muggle one in many ways, but when it came to ales they just weren’t as far ahead he was sorry to say. After the hit of serotonin had hit from the beer, Remus’ gaze settled on Maren as she poured herself a glass of wine and sighed heavily at his question. It was I like her to be like this. Remus had seen Maren wear a serious expression at school telling off purists or discussing equality, but it was one she seemingly only wore when something in particular was bothering her. 

“I know how you feel.” Remus replied, though it was only partially true. Sadly due to his job Remus had often encountered the worst society had to offer. The attack on Benjy had been horrible but Remus was relieved that when he had turned up with his camera it had been to photograph his injuries rather than another person who had sadly passed away from their injuries. He’d gotten good at feigning normality when talking about death, aware he sounded somewhat ghoulish and unfeeling for not responding in the normal way. “It doesn’t make any sense to me.” He replied evenly, taking another sip of his beer. “Since we’re partners in crime for The Order, I don’t feel bad telling you that I don’t think this is random.” He stopped suddenly, looking over his shoulder to double check who might be listening. “Might be worth us talking to your sister actually and hear what she has to say about the whole thing.” He paused for a moment, assessing his previous sentence. “Respectfully of course, it wasn’t exactly a nice scene I arrived to so I can’t imagine how your sister is taking it.” 

-

Leaning against the bar with her wine and watching Remus savor his ale, it was almost possible to pretend it was just another day. They could just be friends hanging out, not soldiers in a secret army fighting an underground war, or partners in crime, as Remus put it. At the same time, it was still a little odd spending time with Remus without the rest of the marauders. They’d never been that close at Hogwarts. While they’d always been part of the same friend group, they hadn’t quite been friends by themselves until they began working together for the Order. Still, it was nice to pretend. 

The illusion didn’t last for long, though, as Remus’ words brought her down to earth. “It does seem like too much of a coincidence to really be a coincidence. But then the question is, who benefits from it? I mean, I know there are people who want to discredit the creature rights movement, but are there any vampires who do? Or was it not a real vampire attack?” She stopped herself listing all of the questions she had, because that would have taken all day.

Maren took a sip of wine to buy herself time as she considered Remus’ idea. She didn’t want to say no, but she was also feeling extra protective of Laurel since Benjy’s attack. “Honestly, I don’t know that she’s up to it. She hasn’t really been herself since the attack, I think it really shook her.” Maren generally liked to think of her sisters as invincible, especially Laurel, but she couldn’t ignore what, to her, was obvious.

Maren had thought, with everything that happened, that she was over her frustration with the speakers at the march. After all, there were bigger things to worry about now, like Benjy, and Laurel, and what Benjy’s attack would mean for creature rights. And besides, talking about it with Remus at the march had made her feel better, helped her see things differently. She was, over all, feeling very mature about the whole thing, but she should have known that feeling wouldn’t last very long. 

It was a fairly normal day at the Fountain for Maren, until Sersh walked in and all of her resentment and anger came bubbling back up to the surface. She couldn’t help rolling her eyes as the older girl approached the bar. “Well if it isn’t Saint Sersh, here to preach to the masses again?”

Maren had had every intention of forgetting about Rosalie Flint, of simply filing her away with the rest of the purebloods like the Yaxleys who would just never understand. Maren wasn’t one to fuss herself with other peoples’ opinions, and that went doubly for stuck up pureblood. But Maren’s brain had, apparently, missed the memo. Several days after the march, Maren was still thinking about Rosalie’s face as she watched Benjy’s speech and their conversation, which Maren was beginning to suspect she’d cut short. Hindsight is always 20/20, and looking back Maren saw the little hints she’d been too put out to see in the moment. Now, she was beginning to think that perhaps Rosalie wasn’t a completely worthless pureblood.

So when, one day before work, Maren realized it was Rosalie walking a few paces ahead of her in Diagon Alley, Maren hurried to catch up with her. “Good afternoon, Rosalie.” With someone else, Maren might’ve just jumped into what she wanted to talk about, but she wanted to speak on Rosalie’s level, or at least try to.

      ❛   oh  maren,   my  love…   no  worries,   for  your  knight  in  shining  armour  has  arrived!  ❜   mary retaliates with as much gleeful sarcasm as had been thrown at them,   walking to behind the bar with a grin spread plainly across their lightly glossed lips.   work was rarely the most exciting aspect of mary’s life post-hogwarts but it was one made easier,   and far more enjoyable by the linwood sisters.   maren,   in particular.   they held the girl dear,   and given the lousy lack of customers they were experiencing at the current moment,   were more than happy to spend some time indulging her in what gossip they had to share.   pertaining mainly…   to their and remus’ eventful birthday party.   ❛   i  have  about…   four  dozen  things  to  say  about  the  surprise  party  the  gang  held  for  remus  and  i’s  birthday…   will  those  suffice,   y’think?  ❜   

-

Maren beamed at the wix, who was so much more than simply a coworker. It always made the hours pass faster when Maren shared a shift with her dear friend. They hadn’t had much overlap in their schedules lately, which made Mary’s presence all the more exciting. “Oo, yes please!” Maren perched her elbows on the bar, cupping her chin in her hands, the picture of attention. She was still a little bitter that work had forced her to miss the whole thing, but between her and Mary, it was more important that they have the night off. “I would much rather gossip like a schoolgirl than talk about what happened to Benjy again, does that make me a horrible person?” Maren only asked because she was confident Mary wouldn’t judge her too harshly.

“Of course I’m thinking about it,” she admitted. Her voice adopted a newfound delicacy, allowing the candor behind every word to slip through. Rosalie had known the woman from word of her family, and the gossip that surrounded the Linwood’s in the circle of the sacred twenty eight. Nothing good, of course. A rare family of mudbloods that plagued the thoughts of any purist with distaste. Rosalie being one of them. What she did not understand upset her, and despite growing into her own opinion of things, it was not easily changed. She had never known someone worth listening to, and so she didn’t. It was not like it had been with Jonathan. But he had opened her eyes, marred the opinion she had of the world she grew up in. She shouldn’t admit what she was, especially not to someone that her extended family despised.

The extent of Rosalie’s sympathy could easily be exploited by the woman if she wanted, tattle about all that exchanged between the two of them, but there was something about the march and all the speeches that had allowed for a change in her. Perhaps the vulnerability she offered Maren would show that she was beginning to understand, but that it was not so simple. She did not seek sympathy, nor did she ask for it. She merely wanted a civil understanding. “I am not vapid. Just because it appears that I am not paying any mind does not mean that is right, despite what you might assume of me. The privilege you claim is so blissful has it’s own restrictions. I do not expect you to understand that. But condemning myself would help no one.” Rosalie informed her. “Have you ever heard of anyone that had made a significant change in our world without some kind of power to their name? Nothing is so simple.” 

-

For a moment, there was something incredibly fragile in Rosalie’s voice. Maren was surprised by it, and by Rosalie’s admission. She wouldn’t have expected anyone like Rosalie Flint to admit to stooping so low as to think about muggleborn or creature rights. It made Maren wonder if she’d misjudged Rosalie, but in the next breath she realized, no, she hadn’t. Rosalie’s words showed exactly what she expected muggleborns to be: poor, ill-bred, unmannered, and Maren knew herself well enough to know that those words could fairly be applied to her. She knew what it meant to stretch a pound, she grew up without a father, and she was passionate, not polite.

Still, Maren was proud of who she was and where she’d come from. It meant something to her to be a Linwood, even if it meant less than dirt to people like Rosalie. So she shrugged off the other woman’s judgement. “Maybe you’re right, you probably know more about magical history than I do. But in the muggle world, no one’s ever done anything worthwhile by looking out only for themselves. I’ll take a hopeless cause over a selfish one any day of the week.” She let her judgement ring loud and clear for a moment, then shrugged again. “But maybe that’s just me. I’ll leave you to your sideline in peace.” She sketched an actor’s bow before turning and walking away.

A warm smile pulled onto the edge of her features instantly at the familiar face of her friend. “How about two shots of fire whiskey and a date to join me?” The witch teased lightly as she wiggled her eye brows. “Tell me you haven’t had your break yet have you?” Marly questioned as she peered to look at a clock on the wall as if to double check the hour. “Or do I need to go cozy up to Laurel to convince her we have important information to discuss and it’s of the utmost urgency that I steal you away as quickly as possible.” Marlene spoke a smirk forming on the edge of her lips as she shrugged her leather jacket off. “Better yet, your shift ends soon and we can get out of here? I heard they’ve got two for one cocktails at the grave affair tonight and I don’t know about you, but a have a cherry martini in my sights.” @marenebba​

-

“Two shots of fire whiskey, coming right up!” Maren lit up when she recognized Marlene on the other side of the bar, energized by the arrival of her friend. She poured the shots in short order and slid them across the bar to Marlene. “As for a date, how about a short but buxom blonde?” She struck a pose and waggled her eyebrows at Marlene with a giggle. The next moment she wilted, splayed out over the bar in a picture of exaggerated exhaustion. “I actually took my break this afternoon like an idiot, but I think I deserve another one.” She propped herself up on her elbows and consulted the clock. “But I’ve only got fifteen minutes left on my shift, and I bet I can get Laurel to let me off early, I’ve already been here for ages.” She nibbled her thumbnail as she weighed the allure of fancy cocktails with Marlene against the family duty to be responsible and pull her share at the Fountain. Of course, she’d done quite a bit of pulling already today… In the end, Maren held up a finger. “Gimme a mo.” A few minutes later, after a brief conversation with Laurel, Maren was heading back to Marlene with her purse and jacket. “I need sugar and booze immediately, preferably in concert.”

Maren prided herself on being able to read her sisters’ moods, especially Laurel’s. So Maren knew, even though Laurel was trying to put on a brave face for the public, that she was shaken by what had happened to Benjy and what she’d witnessed. To remedy this, Maren fell back on a well worn Linwood sisters bonding practice: midnight margaritas. It was a time honored tradition, as likely to end in loud music and dancing as touching heart to hearts. A few days after the march, she shared her plan with Adairia and late that night she left her eldest sister to make the drinks as she crept into Laurel’s room. She crawled onto Laurel’s bed and began tickling her nose. “Wake up sleepy head, it’s booze o’clock.”

Rosalie had meant no harm, simply addressing their surroundings as what she thought them to be. A blinding noise. Whether she deemed it to be good was undecided, but it was unbiased. It was a simple observation, something that anyone could see. Even those causing such a stir. It was the other woman’s uncouth disposition that broke her of any sympathetic regard Benjy Fenwick’s speech had previously evoked. Of course, even when she tried, almost allowing herself to open her eyes, there were others so blinded by their own assumptions to not recognize their hypocrisy. It ripped the roots from the ground before they had any chance to experience growth. “I am listening loud and clear.” She attested, her expression growing weary. 

“At least I was until you approached me. And for what reason, might I wonder? Surely interrupting does not aid your cause.” Rosalie gave a tilt of her head, glancing over at the woman. “Perhaps I am not the one incapable of thinking before I act.”

-

So far, Rosalie was doing nothing to make Maren think she might have been wrong about any of the assumptions she’d made. After all, she’d made them based on years of experience, and all Rosalie had done was turn up her nose at a gathering in support of Maren’s kind. She’d recognized the wrinkle of disgust on the woman’s face all too well. So why had she come over here? Maren was never one to run from a fight, and did in fact often find herself running toward them, but was that it? 

Maybe it was the other look she’d seen on Rosalie’s face, beneath the disgust. The small flicker of curiosity, and maybe even sympathy? Whatever it was, it was gone now. Oops. Maybe Maren should have apologized, but she wasn’t going to give Rosalie’s smug superiority the satisfaction. “Yes, we’ve well established that you’re listening.” It was hard for Maren to not roll her eyes but she managed it. “I’m asking if you’re thinking about what you’re hearing. If this will have any impact on you or if you’ll just go on about your blissfully privileged life?”

frank made sure he would attend the march for quite a few reasons. one – he supported the cause. two – he was a member of the order. three – just like at the christmas ball, he was on all alert. hell of a lot good it did him last time. frank longbottom was never the sort of man who found himself beaten down, but he was on his way. whatever it was that they were up against showed no signs of backing down and he knew that what was coming would be disastrous if they didn’t get a handle on it. 

with his keen eye, frank caught sight of maren prepared to hand someone their ass and quickly made his way over to keep a fight from breaking out. he tried not to let his features convey the dislike of the scene before him but he could tell by maren’s that he was allowing it to show. “maren, come on,” he started. “this isn’t the time or the place.” frank knew maren had a good heart and understood her frustration – she was young and could let her emotions get away from her, it seemed. he told the person she was talking to to step away and find another place to go. “have you always had a problem holding your tongue, linwood?” he asked after they left.   @marenebba​

-

Maren scowled as the heckler scurried away, clearly more intimidated by Frank and his auror badge than Maren. It was something she should be used to. People were always underestimating her because she was short with round eyes and apple cheeks and a ready smile, and it never failed to annoy her. Next she turned her scowl on Frank. Maren was not in the mood for a lecture, even though she was beginning to think that maybe she deserved one as she was no longer seeing red. Still, it wasn’t her fault people were horrible, and she was never going to be someone who just stood idly by.

“Why should I keep my mouth shut? That’s what they want, a good little muggleborn who sits down and shuts up and plays nice begging for scraps from their table when I have just as much magical ability as they do.” She glared up at Frank, not about to make this easy for him.

with: @marenebba

“No I think you’re completely right.” Remus replied, stopping as he got out of the thick of the crowd and dropping Maren’s hand as they began to walk side by side. “I too am grateful people are advocating for us. Charity and Benjy are brilliant speakers and I think it’s right they’re two of the biggest voices but I would also like to hear from more people like us. I would rather hear from…” He smiled down at Maren, nudging her slightly as he did with his elbow. “…well people like you to be honest Maren. I’d much rather risk my neck at the Ministry to listen to your experience, though I think it’s very important Pure-Bloods are taking a stand and challenging the beliefs of other people like them. That is really important and Scared Twenty-Eight people like Sersh, their voice has more weight in that community than I’m sorry to say, someone like me and you talking about why it’s important to support us even if it’s a voice you and I would prefer to listen to.”

It seemed to Remus as though the selection of voices speaking today were to get maximum outreach to crowds who might have been on the fence about walking today or ignoring Ministry advice to attend the protest, the problem with their community was that too many people were complacent and a lot of those complacent people were the ones who were in charge. “We need more people like you and your sisters, people who aren’t complacent and are ready to speak up. It’s saddening to me that all of this is taking place and the Ministry want to discourage people from coming along rather than admit their register is ridiculous and they don’t care about us…” His voice trailed off us as he looked out amongst the crowd. “…it’s everything a government shouldn’t do and it’s not what I want to align myself with.” 

-

Maren Linwood had always loved attention. It was one of the things that first drew her to performing, a round of applause, even when it was just from her sisters and grandmother, was one of the best things in the world. It was also what had drawn her to Sirius at school. The way he admired her strength and showed her off at parties made her feel special in a way she never had before. But attention from Remus was different. He didn’t watch the way she moved or hang off the cadence of her words, he listened to her and thought about what she was saying. It made her feel like what she was saying was important, and it made her want to say more.