Forget Me Not

Remus had sat at a table for what he was starting to realize, was way too long. Lately he had been getting so upset about being secluded and no one truly involving him in their lives, yet here he was, parking himself on the sidelines ignoring any chance he could get to become more involved with people’s lives. So, he pulled himself away from the table, shoving his phone into his back pocket and looking around. He knew everyone in the room, even if it was just by basic name and simple greetings, he wasn’t going to be able to just walk up to someone and have a full introduction ready. 

So, taking a very heavy and deep breath, glancing down at his clue once more before heading over to the bar and ordering a whiskey. After getting handed the drink back, he turned and found himself face to face with an eager looking counter part and a small piece of paper gripped in their hand. Remus laughed a bit, nodding his head while he tried to gather his thoughts quickly enough to understand what they were probably going to give up.“ I’m sorry, but I require body parts or first borns in my honor to get my clue.” Lupin joked, a soft laugh echoing around him before he took a drink of his whiskey. 

Like most things Marlene was doing recently, this was a stupid idea. She should've just ignored this murder mystery party and kept herself at Peter's while he was out having a good time. But Marlene had always been an envious person and couldn't imagine missing out on something like this. It was small, all the more dangerous for her, and she was wasting Polyjuice. Still, there she was, downing her fourth shot of the night when her eyes picked up Remus Lupin hovering by the bar. The fewer times she had to introduce herself, bury her old name, the better. Strolling over to the other side of the bar, she set her elbows on the wood next to him, leaning in slightly with a grin.

Twisting her piece of paper around in her fingers, she barked out a laugh, raising her eyebrows. "I'm afraid I can't really offer you a firstborn now, but..." Trailing off, she glanced around the room before turning her attention back to Remus. "Does it have to be my body part? I'm sure someone where wouldn't miss a toe or something." She offered with a shrug, before laughing again. "To be honest, I'm not even sure how this thing is supposed to work. You've gotta really do some digging to get more than a few clues put together." Which seemed like work she wasn't willing to do that night. Her Ravenclaw roots were ripping their hair out right about now. But this wasn't about winning, it was about taking a second to breathe, to forget everything else. "Unless you can trick the host and frame someone else. That'd be mighty impressive."

A thousand questions were flooding Peter’s mind– most of which ended start with how and why– and he had no idea what to do. Marlene looked awful, she looked like complete shit. There was a look in her eye that he’d never seen before, but the minute his arms wrapped around her he wished he could do something. All he could think to do in the moment was listen and hug her– hug her so tight as if she would be taken away from him if he wasn’t hugging her. The stench of blood was rising in his nostrils, but he tried not to take it in. He knew that if he started to spiral, Marlene would never come to him for help again. She’s here for a reason, fucking help her. 

“Marlene– I-I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry they did this to you.” Peter tried comforting her, but his words felt insignificant as soon as they hit the air. “It’s okay, you’re here now, if you’d stayed you would have died too.” The slightest hint of calm entered his voice, as he realized what he was saying was true. Stay calm, stay calm for her. Panic rose in his throat when she pulled away from him, and he immediately felt like he had done something wrong. But it wasn’t that– no, it wasn’t something as selfish as Peter, it was everything. Everything was rushing in and he couldn’t do anything, he was watching her fall apart in front of him and he couldn’t do anything.

Peter watched in pain as she fixated on her clothes. Was he supposed to listen to her? Did she want him to hold her? Did she want to cry and scream until her throat was dry? Or was Peter supposed to get rid of the blood? Did she want a shower? Did she want a glass of water? All these questions flooded his brain, and Peter was stuck staring at Marlene with her hands on her ears. Just staring at her hurt, it made him feel so useless.

“I–” Say something you fuck, she’s begging for your help. “Do you want a change of clothes? Y-you can use my shower,” his words in no way stood up to hers and where her attention was. The way she looked at him, the way her eyes widened like a fucking gazelle– help her now. Peter’s voice was shaking and cracking but he didn’t know what else to do, “I’m so sorry Marlene, you didn’t– you don’t– deserve any of this. I-I want to help, please, what do you need from me?” Fuck, he felt useless. In all the anxiety attacks he’d ever had, this was exactly what he wanted someone to say. Peter just wanted someone to ask what he wanted. But now that he was here and Marlene was clearly having something similar, he felt like a fucking twig she was stepping on. 

This wasn’t fair. The phrase was flooding Marlene’s mind, surrounding her in self-pity. Nothing about this was fair, it should have never happened. Her family weregood people, devoted to equality and willing to fight to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves. Apparently, along the way, they’d become those who couldn’t protect themselves. Order members were probably evaluating their bodies right now, trying to figure out what spell had been the last to hit them as if it even mattered. What’s dead is dead and there was no way to go back, to take any of it back. Marlene was miserable. Of course Peter was sorry, she was sorry, everyone would be saying how sorry they were and none of it was going to change anything.

Slowly, as the adrenaline faded from her blood stream, everything started to hurt. Her lungs burned from constantly gasping in air, from the smoke that had overtaken her home. Twigs had scraped up her arms and legs from when she’d sprinted through the forest, littering her skin with little pink lines, dotted with red where blood bubbled up at the surface. Her back ached, probably blotched with ugly blue and purple from where she had slammed into a wall, the result of a well placed stupefy from a masked man. Cowards. Somewhere in her thighs, little shards of glass were embedded, adding to the stickiness on her jeans. And yet, none of it mattered, she would’ve taken a thousand times the damage if it meant the fight had ended up differently, if her fight had actually mattered in the end. But it didn’t. Instead, the pain just seemed to drive her hysteria further.

She looked up at Peter, desperate for something in him to be grounding, as if he’d suddenly smile and tell her this was all one terribly done joke. Something James set up, the idiot. All she wanted was for this to be one of James’ stupidjokes. “I don’t know.” She practically wailed, her hands grasping, then releasing her shirt. Part of her wanted to rip the clothing off, burn it and never think of it again. But it was all that she had left, the only thing left of her family was the scarlet staining her body. “I don’t fucking know, I don’t know what to do, what the fuck am I supposed to do?” Her words came out in a rush, bordering hysterical as she slouched against the wall, as if the effort to keep her body up was just too much.

“I-I don’t want this.” She wasn’t being fair to Peter. She’d shown up at his door, just to break down and hope he somehow knew what to do, as if he’d wave his wand and fix this entire thing. “I don’t understand. This shouldn’t have happened.” Taking deep breaths in the hope it would quell her shaking, help her focus, her hands dropped to her lap. It wasn’t that easy though, the voice in her head kept screaming, her hands kept shaking as she desperately grasped at straws. “I don’t want anything. I just want to go home.” Life wasn’t fair. Her nails were digging crescents into her palms and she turned her eyes back to her hands, staring at the blood they were covered in. “I…yes. That’s-yes-I have to get it off, oh my god Peter, I have to get it off me.” Suddenly she was moving, stretching up to grab Peter’s arm. “Please, please I just want it all to go away.”

“Well, I won’t argue too hard against it if you’re really feeling that guilty about it.” He said with a laugh, too happy with the atmosphere of the day to get too fussy about a spilled drink and a shirt that would undoubtedly have ended up covered in something unsavory by the end of the day, anyway. Harry may have been less likely to spit up at the age of 1, but he was still incredibly talented at spilling things, and finding the messiest messes to get involved in. It was funny, how much Harry reminded him of himself. He had been the same way as a child - always wreaking havoc, always making messes, always getting into the things that he probably shouldn’t have gotten into and getting away with it because he flashed a grin or talked himself out of it. He had gotten in trouble a fair few times, but raising Harry, he had the same problems with punishing him that his parents had had with him. 

“There’s nothing wrong with that.” He said the words with a succinct nod of his head, meaning them wholly. He may not have been a frequenter of the bars and pubs like he once had been, but he couldn’t blame anyone for finding solace there. Their lives had become something hard, and unexplainable, and difficult to navigate, and it was easy to lean on the liquor to get through the nights of wondering and trying to understand when everything had become so hard. When they had started to lose people they loved and cared about, when they had started to realize that they were very much mortal. That there was a good chance they wouldn’t all survive the war, and it was something that he thought about often. How could he not? He had already lost his parents, and he had already lost Marlene. Alice’s father. Wondering who would be next was something that haunted him in the quiet moments when he sat at home, staring at his son, and Lily, and hoping that he would never wake up to a world without them, or a world without his friends. Remus, and Sirius, Alice, and Frank, and Ted. Too many people who mean entirely too much to him. 

“Aye, I think so. Haven’t been in a while, but it’s nice to see you again, Aisha.” She had caught him in a good mood, a smile hung on his lips. After Marlene had died, he had spent a lot of time at pubs. He hadn’t been able to handle it, in the same way that he hadn’t really been able to handle the death of his parents. Of course, he had had Lily and Harry this time, along with the friends who had supported him last time, but there had been nights where it had all been too much for him, and he had needed to drown some of the thoughts with a drink, or a few, of firewhiskey. “Depends on the pub.” He said with a grin, shrugging his shoulders lightly but looking around, taking in the carnival. All in all, it wasn’t a bad place to run into people, or make new friends. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? Mary really pulled the whole thing together. Not that I didn’t think she wouldn’t. She has an eye for these kinds of things.” 

"I tend to be full of guilt these days." And though she laughed as she said it, but the words rang truer than most she had spoken recently, at least when she was wearing this girl's face. Maybe eventually she would be able to forget it all, toss Marlene McKinnon away entirely. That would be nice, impossible, but nice. Instead, one day she was going to run out of hair. What would come next, she didn't know. Most of her wanted to use that day to come back, reunite with her mates and explain everything she had done wrong, sob for hours over how sorry she was. But fear meant that was never going to happen. Because there was too high of a chance that they would hate her after this, never be able to forgive her for faking her death and to be honest, she didn't blame them. It's the same thing she would have done if she was in their shoes.

"Tell that to my mum, mate. Pretty sure she's at home mourning the perfect daughter she could have had. I certainly didn't wind up a lady, y'know?" It was almost painful how easy it was to laugh with James, but it made sense. She'd been doing it since they were hobbling around as kids. Merlin what she'd give to go back to those days, even for just a few moments, to be able to bask in the bliss that came with the ignorance of childhood. She hoped Harry would never have to give that up. Hell, she hoped Nymphadora wouldn't either, regardless of her mother's poorly hidden disdain for the McKinnons. At least some people had gotten what they wanted in this war. Marlene just wanted it to be over before they got older, for the fighting to come to an end before it could corrupt the next generation. They didn't deserve to be the ones fighting the wars of their parents.

"Wish I could say the same, but I'm pretty sure the owners think I'm livin' there now." She laughed, running a hand through her hair. Too many nights she was pulled out of drunken bliss because Peter was panicking over why she wasn't home yet. "Man, if I had the money to go to classier pubs, I would. I suppose I'll just spend my time with the castaways at the Leaky Cauldron. I think we've more in common than we like to think anyway." Waving her hand as she spoke, she then shrugged at his next question. "It's pretty fuckin' impressive. I'd have never thought about charming in the different seasons or anything." But, of course, she had to feign ignorance at his last words, cocking her head to the side. However, she was never one to shy away from stroking Mary's ego. There weren't many opportunities for her to support Mary anymore, so she'd jump at the chance, despite the pain in her chest. "She the one in charge of all this? I can't imagine one person puttin' this together, even with help. That's pretty amazing. Do you two know each other?"

There was something about Aisha that seemed familiar but Lily couldn’t put her finger on it. She would recognize her, surely. Lily had always been good with faces, a talent that she prided herself on and often bragged about when she saw a person for a second time. But, if Lily had met Aisha before she was at a loss for where they had met or how they would have known each other. After all, she did say that she had only just moved here. Lily hadn’t gone far out of the country, unless you counted the one trip to France when she was eight (and she didn’t, because she only vaguely remembered everything).

“It’s nice to meet you too, Aisha,” Lily said, sincerely, a smile forming on her lips as she pushed any thought of knowing her out of her head. Besides, meeting someone new was a pleasure that she didn’t have all too often. At least, not much anymore. Hogwarts had been the place where new faces were around every corner. Now, in her own little bubble outside of the castle, she rarely met a new face. She didn’t like that, either. In fact, Lily wished she could meet more people, could go on more adventures, could show her face to the wizarding world and scream that she was there; remind them that the muggleborns were not silent, pushovers who would do whatever the purebloods said. And yet, she kept her mouth shut. Led a domestic life 

Lily hated that her thoughts always went down that dark path but recently it was hard to escape. With the war surrounding them and jumping out like it was playing hide and go seek, there was really no escaping the constant thought of needing to jump and save her child’s life. At least here, she felt as though she was safe enough to leave him with a babysitter. Mary had done a fabulous job not only with the carnival itself but with the security. She felt safe. Or as safe as she’d felt in years, anyways.

“I’d love that,” she said, finally, her smile widening. “A drink sounds absolutely wonderful. But, no need to be guilty. It’s an easy fix, remember?” Lily liked a person, though, who felt bad about spilling something on someone else. She appreciated that in a friend, always looked for the empathy in the person she was talking to. Besides, for Lily, empathy was the most important trait someone could posses. Aisha seemed to have it. “Where did you move from? If you don’t mind my asking. I’ve not really been out of the city let alone the country, but I like hearing about people who have. ” 

Everything about Lily broke Marlene's heart. She wanted to see Hary, to be able to giggle with the little boy again while James rolled his eyes because she was such a child. She wanted to show up at their place uninvited just to eat their food and leave them to their happy family life. She wanted everything to go back to the way it was before the bastards in cloaks showed up at her parent's house and ripped her world away from her. Still, it was hard to hold back a smile when Lily was around, an infuriating trait the other woman seemed to wear so naturally. Honestly, she was a mother in every sense and a larger part of Marlene than she wanted to admit admired her. If James was going to settle with anyone, he picked the right bird.          

"Sorry, I've uh, I've never been all that good at dealing with people." A blatant lie that almost hurt to tell. Back at Hogwarts, she flitted in and out of everyone's life. People were fascinating and Marlene adored learning everything she could about them. Not anymore, though. Oh, how the mighty fall. Now, she rubbed her hand against the back of her head, awkwardly shifting her weight between her feet and found herself at a lack of words. They used to put canaries, songbirds, in coal mines because they knew when they stopped chirping, danger was near. It was ironic. "But it's really nice to meet you too. I feel...a bit out of my element these days, to be honest. It's hard to adapt to new places." New identities.      

However, Marlene matched Lily's smile effortlessly. There shouldn't be any harm in having a quick drink, as long as she was careful. Besides, Marlene was desperate for company. As much as she adored Peter, was grateful for his help, she needed to see other people as much as she needed air to breathe. "Still," She insisted, gesturing widely to emphasize the point. "Even if it's a quick fix, I should have been paying more attention. And if it had been hotter you could've been hurt and the fix wouldn't be so easy. Still not difficult, but not as easy." Rather than being caught off guard, Marlene shrugged her shoulders at Lily's next question. It was the same line of conversation she'd practiced over and over again.

"I was born here and we'd visit in the summer, but my mother wanted me to go to school at Beauxbatons instead of Hogwarts. The school was nice, but traveling back and forth was a bit annoying. At least I got to practice my French all the time." She chimed, shoving her hands into her pockets as she smiled up at Lily. "Figured I'd move back, closer to family, y'know? It's hard to be away. I missed them." Now, the feelings were moving too close to home. So she simply changed directions. "What'd you like to drink? The cider was nice, before it found home on your shirt. I've also heard there's butterbeer somewhere around here."

Marlene McKinnon & Peter Pettigrew

I BELIEVE PAIN BREEDS WOLVES,  AND JOYS GIVE RISE TO MOONS. WE GROW FORESTS IN OUR BONES, SO OUR MEMORIES CAN’T FIND US. I BELIEVE WE HIDE,  AND HAUNT OURSELVES.

Marlene McKinnon & James Potter

"I AM TROUBLED, AND HARSH, AND HOPELESS. THOUGH I HAVE LOVE INSIDE ME. BUT I DON’T KNOW HOW TO USE LOVE. SOMETIMES IT SCRATCHES LIKE BARBS."

Maybe she was just paranoid, but something seemed off about the other. Mary told herself it was just because she didn’t recognise them, not because they seemed in such a bloody hurry to get away, not because their hands were shaking. She wondered if it was something she had done or said, but doubted that — she’d been perfectly polite, after all, even if she had bumped into the other — and then wondered if maybe the other was just nervous around people. Still, she felt slightly on edge, her wariness growing a little bit more with every moment she spent in the others company. There was something she couldn’t put her finger on, and it drove her mad. She knew, somewhere, that she was just being paranoid and that this was the stress of it all weighing down on her, but still, she could not let it go. 

“That’s true,” she said, laughing a little. Mary pulled out her wand and muttered a quick cleaning spell – she wasn’t the best at them, but she supposed she could be worse – and watched the stain disappear after she muttered a second one. “But it’s all good, no worries.” She meant it, too: it had been her own carelessness that had led to this, not only the others’, and she could hardly be angry at her for her own mistake. At her compliment, she smiled. “Oh, thank you. It’s not just me who did it, though, it was a whole lot of people. Couldn’t have done it without them.” It was nice, though, to get positive feedback – even if it was from strangers, or maybe especially so – and Mary felt a bit of warmth spread through her.

She shook her head at the others’ words, a small smile still playing on her lips. “No, no — it was my fault as much yours. Do you want a new drink, though? That seems only fair,” she said. “Really, I’ll get you one right now.” Mary was curious about who this was, and if offering her a free drink would help that, she’d do it in a heartbeat. She hoped it would calm some of her nerves, mostly, but also was genuinely interested in getting to know the other. Mary liked knowing the people interested in her organisation, tried to keep her network close to her personally, wanted to be an approachable director. “What do you want? Another hot cider, or something different this time? The butterbeer is real good, I’ve heard, there’s some seasonal editions, too.” She extended her hand, then. “I’m Mary, by the way.”

Marlene was never going to live this down, wanted to just crawl in a hole and never come out again. This was such a stupid idea. She should've just been rude and said sorry and ran off into the crowd, but no, Mary's voice would've started up in her head, scolding her for being impolite. Instead, she got stuck with Mary in front of her. This whole thing was so fucking stupid. "Right, maybe, but I'm still sorry. I still should've been paying more attention." Marlene replied, waving her hand as if to dismiss the issue until she paused. Glancing up at Mary, she had to consciously prevent her eyebrows from furrowing, force her lips into a small smile although the words she said next meant more than the woman in front of her could understand. "I really am sorry about this."

Leave it to Mary to be eternally humble, dismiss her success as the work of others. "That's true, but I mean you said you're in charge of all this stuff, right? So none of it would have gotten started if it wasn't for you." All Marlene wanted to do was shower Mary in praise, gush about how proud she was of her, how incredible this carnival was. But that would be creepy and the last thing she needed was to be bringing attention to herself because she seemed creepy. Instead, she settled for that and let the subject drop, running a hand nervously through her hair. Or rather, the hair from the girl whose face she was borrowing. Whatever, it was basically the same thing at this point.

"Oh, no, that's alright, I should be watching my sugar intake anyway, probably was for the best." Marlene started in a rush, smiling a little more naturally at the thought. Marlene McKinnon watching her sugar intake, hell must have frozen over. "I don't think that seems very fair, I'm the one who spilled on you, you literally didn't do anything wrong." But of course, Mary was adamant in the most obnoxiously nice way. Marlene wanted to scream. Everything about this situation was frustrating and the more she had to look at Mary smiling, the deeper the pain burrowed into the middle of her chest. Of course, Mary had every right to be happy without her, it had been months since she'd been declared dead, but it still stung. It wasn't fair, how quickly the world could leave lives behind and just keep spinning. As Mary continued to speak, however, Marlene just sighed, glancing down at the hand extended out to her. She didn't want to touch Mary, the thought of it sent chills down her spine, but she shook her hand all the same. "Nice to meet you, Mary, I'm Aisha. I suppose I could go for a butterbeer." Then, at least, she could accept the drink and they could go their separate ways. "Tis the season, and all that stuff."

“That’s okay,” Hestia reassured her. “Accidents happen, and there are a lot of people here today. I was bound to get spilled on at some point.” It was almost inevitable whenever Hestia went out to any sort of gathering. Good thing she had no problem with getting messy. She put a gentle hand on the other girl’s arm, practically feeling her anxiety. “I promise, no hard feelings. So how about we both go get a refill?” she smiled warmly.

Marlene recognized Hestia. She'd never spent much time talking with her, wrapped up in her own circle, but she'd heard good things about the girl before. Besides, unless Hestia was some kind of stalker, she didn't know Marlene's mannerisms to pick up on them and become suspicious. So Marlene smiled at her, though she had to stop herself from flinching away when a hand landed on her arm. People didn't touch her these days. Unless it was some random hookup, completely devoid of emotion, Peter and Ted were the only people Marlene let touch her. "Yeah, sure, as long as you let me buy it." Marlene amended, returning the girl's smile, although hers had become a little more forced. "It'll help me appease my guilt, at least a bit."

Peter was having a normal night, relaxing in his living room with a fantastic sandwich. It was a grilled cheese, one of a kind. Ciabatta, also known as the best kind of bread ever, tomatos, provolone and cheddar cheese melted together. Sometimes Peter was blown away with how good his sandwiches were, it was a gift of his. He positioned himself on the couch, the television on and ready to play Interstellar– a movie he’d been wanting to see– and had managed to take one bite of his sandwich when his phone went off. Pete reached for it, quickly reading it.

Attack, Mckinnons dead, DE.

Peter dropped his phone. His heart sank into his stomach, as his throat dried up. McKinnons. Did that mean all of them? Did that mean most of them? Did that mean Marlene? Peter’s mind was racing, filling with every possible outcome. If someone was there with him, they wouldn’t have been able to tell. It was like he had been completely frozen in time, just staring there at the same four words over and over– rereading them in case they were fake. A part of him wanted to text back and ask about Marlene, because he knew her and she wouldn’t have given up that easily. Another part of him wanted to throw his phone out the window. 

Instead, he dropped the grilled cheese and starting typing furiously. He checked every news outlet he could think of, his fingers shaking more and more rapidly with each word he typed and every article he read. By the time he’d finished scanning the third article, it was beginning to sink in. Peter hadn’t realized it, but he was crying. Tears were streaming down his face, a hand on his mouth in utter disbelief. He felt as if every bone in his soul broke at once, he felt like he couldn’t move. The war wasn’t real– it was a concept to him, it was simply something they were silently fighting for, he hadn’t been connected to any of the causalities. Until now. 

Marlene McKinnon was dead.

One of the first things Peter did upon finding this news was drink. A lot and very fast. Once he was able to move, tears still gliding down his cheeks and quiet gasps for air every minute or so, he went off and grabbed his favorite tequila. It was a basic drink, and Marlene no doubt made fun of him for it, but he needed something that would go down smoothly. For him, that was tequila. Peter quickly chugged half the bottle.

He then heard the sound of the front door shut. Peter snatched up his wand, the bottle still in the other hand. They’d come for him. This was it. This was how he would die: a bottle of tequila in one hand. Peter knew he couldn’t survive against the Death Eaters by himself, no way in hell would he. They see right through me, they see how fucking useless I am. His mind was spinning and spiraling as he stepped towards the door, but not for one second did he expect to see who he saw standing there. 

“Marlene–” he was crying again, quietly this time. “You’re not– I just got th-the text– you can’t– what the fuck?” Peter took a step back from her and held his wand out to her, his jaw practically on the floor. “How the hell are you here? Why the hell are you here?” The why slipped out without Peter understanding what he was asking. He considered it– he didn’t really know why she’d come here. Of all the people she could go to in her position– whatever that was he didn’t know– and her state he had no clue why she showed up at his door. 

A part of Peter thought this could have been a scam, that something could have been wrong here. But Peter was looking at her, looking at the girl standing in front of him. There was something about her eyes, something about the way that she looked at him with such desperation– a need that only Peter could help. She needed him. Marlene McKinnon needed him and she’d come to him first. Without another word, he stepped forward and immediately embraced her. “I thought you were dead,” Pete choked on his words.

What the fuck was a good question to ask, the same that had been running through Marlene's mind for the last...she wasn't sure. Time was skewed and her entire world had been turned upside down and she didn't know what the fuck anymore. When Peter took a step back, she stepped forward, following him into the room. Her wand's position faltered, however, when he didn't throw any spells her way. Good, at least he didn't think she was some sort of demon or ghost, though she supposed Hogwarts ghosts helped to dispell the myths about how they appeared. "I didn't-I don't have anywhere else to go, Peter." Later, when this was over, she would curse the weakness in her voice, the way it wavered as she spoke. Too unlike her for comfort.

"I don't know what happened. I was at home and all of the sudden they just- everyone's dead Peter. I watched them kill them." As she spoke, her voice rose in volume, hysteria creeping in around the edges. "It happened so fast, I couldn't do anything, I just ran and now-" Suddenly she was sobbing, crying openly when Peter wrapped his arms around her and she pushed her face into his chest, muffling the scrambled words in the fabric of his shirt. Marlene wanted to curl up there, bury herself in Peter and pretend like none of this ever happened, like nothing was going on and that stupid fucking war wasn't raging outside. A stupid fucking war she had been so gung-ho to fight in. A stupid fucking war that had rage simmering just below her grief.

"Oh my god. They're-I-" And Marlene couldn't breathe anymore, despite the fact she felt her chest heaving. The shaking had expanded from her hands to her shoulders, trembling in Peter's arms. The ringing in her ears was getting louder and Marlene just wanted it to stop, dropping her wand and the wad of hair to press her hands against her ears, as if that would quiet the screaming. She was literally covered in her parents' blood and Merlin knew what else, she didn't want to think about it. But as soon as the thought wormed its way into her head, she couldn't get it out and dropped her hands as if they were made of fire. Her eyes darted to her pants, the light denim stained dark blue where they felt glued down to her legs, then to her arms, red blood turned almost black and flaking off of her skin, concentrated around chunks of what she could only assume to be gore and dirt.

She was probably injured somewhere as well, there was no way she got out of the explosive spells and forest unscathed, but everything about her felt numb aside from the air ripping its way through her lungs. That burned. "Oh my god, Peter get it off, get it off." Marlene wasn't entirely sure what she was talking about. Everything felt cold, as if death had sunk itself into her flesh and her remains were laying mangled somewhere along with the rest of her family. She wanted to tear herself apart, remove any recollection of the horrors the night wrought upon her. Scrambling away from Peter until her back hit the wall, Marlene stared at him as if he somehow held all the answers she was looking for, eyes wild and unfocused.

Everything felt sticky, her fingers, her arms, her hair. Marlene decided then and there that she'd never felt something so horrible in her life. Not when she broke bones, not when she watched her friends crack under the weight of their own losses. This was hell, personified in her own state of being. "I can't- I can't do this. It's on me." The blood, the smoke, the screams, none of it had faded. It felt like a brand, searing itself into her flesh, into her memories with every second that passed, with every breath she took while her parents lay dead in their home. "I don't know what happened. Why did this happen to me?"