#omrpstarter

Dear Twattie,

I miss seeing your stupid face around here, I could be cruel and bore you with the intimate details of Pureblood society, and if you piss me off, I might. I’m doing wonderfully bad, thank you for asking. What have you been up to other than fucking anyone who moves and being a family disappointment? Twinnie sends her love and some really disgusting sexual things I won’t repeat due to jealously (on her end, oh please oh right there, star, Merlin I’d get earplugs if it wasn’t so fun to listen to.) Please get away from the morality mob for a few days and come see us soon.

Love,

Marlene gave the boy—one whom she unfortunately had come into acquaintance with during his atrocious Quidditch trial at the start of the month—in front of her an incredulous look. “Are you—?” she began, before cutting herself off with a sigh of exasperation. The boy in question was kneeling on the ground, apparently preparing to serenade a girl standing a foot to his left, whose blush was growing steadily. “For the record,” she informed him, sidestepping him pointedly and fixing him with a look that conveyed her opinion quite aptly, “this is a terrible idea. Don’t say nobody warned you.”

Marlene had barely taken three steps before the corridor was filled with shaky warbling, and she let out a groan that stopped only as his singing did. Turning around, she saw the blushing girl dragging the boy into an annex to the side, amidst clapping. Marlene turned to her companion, raising an eyebrow. “Okay, seriously—one to ten, what’s the chance she took him aside to shut him up? ‘Cause my ears are still screaming.”

It was absurd to think that it was only October. So much had happened—this had been an emotional maelstrom unlike anything else Marlene had ever weathered, and it was something she couldn’t fight with magic, with fists or threats or speed or sharp words, and it had been an extremely unpleasant experience—but finally, things were starting to look up. Inside the castle, anyway; Marlene’s father worked as a foreign ambassador with the Ministry, and whilst he could hardly share work details over an owl, the dropped hints had been enough to ensure Marlene was aware her father was greatly troubled.

However, Sirius Black had not been the only S-us on her mind. Following her altercation with Sirius in the library, she had confronted Alice about her friendship with one Severus Snape. The letter she had received in return had burned itself into her pocket until she finally made up with Sirius, and showed him the letter. Still, she wasn’t done with this situation, because Severus Snape still appeared to be a blip on the radar.

If Marlene was perfectly honest, there was more to this than what Regulus had said. After he’d come to talk to her, even though she’d just been flying for hours, she shot back up into the sky to escape into the skies and her own thoughts. It was never a fun place to be, her own head, but this was important, and the words were already ripping her to shreds, so thinking about it wouldn’t make it any worse.

She kept trying to think about Regulus’ words, and to an extent, she did—but when she tried to sort this mess out, unraveling it by going back to the start, her mind kept snagging on one thing: she had promised Sirius she would stay. And maybe he’d done his best to tell her she wasn’t welcome, and if he’d wanted her to realise she wasn’t wanted, he succeeded, but she just kept coming back to that promise, and his words in the library: one more broken promise. And the thing was, she felt ill at the thought, because as much as she didn’t know what to do about this, as terrified as she was that she was just signing up for more lashings, she could not live with herself if she didn’t try keep her promise, no matter how late.

She had been on her way to realising this promise was infringed upon, and that it was her own fault, but Regulus sped up the process with his words, especially because some were undeniable. Others she was questionable about, but she owed it to him to keep her promise, and she owed it to herself and to Sirius too, as much as it terrified her.

It was late, very late at night, or perhaps very early in the morning. She wasn’t sure. Sneaking to the Heads’ common when the portraits were around, some awake, was not easy, but she hadn’t survived seven years as a Gryffindor for nothing. She and Frank had built a friendship on this talent of hers, for Merlin’s sake.

Marlene McKinnon was aware of three things. One: she was absolutely fucking hammered. Two: this was the only aim she'd had entering the party, so she was feeling pretty fucking stoked right now. Three: Sirius Black.

She was always aware of Sirius Black, in a way, but it frustrated the fuck out of her that she was still aware of him even through the haze of alcohol. He was an unbidden thought in her mind, an impression of things that alcohol was meant to eradicate and sweep from her veins, and she couldn't seem to avoid him, because even when she was on the opposite side of the room, she could still tell where he was and it was driving her mental—and also, to more alcohol.

In fact, she wasn't even really aware of what she was doing, only that she had a bottle in her hand and she was staggering slightly, and giggling at something she'd heard Fabian Prewett say. Pressing a kiss to his cheek as a reward for his quip, she turned suddenly because there was an intensely strong feeling that she couldn't quite work out—and then she found herself facing Sirius, and it all made sense. She had a vague sense that her drunken state was largely due to him, and that she was meant to be thinking something, but she was shoving down every feeling that threatened to break through her drunken haze, because she hadn't felt so truly numb for days and it was a fucking relief, so instead, she gave him a wry look and clunked her bottle lightly against his arm. "You're a prat," she informed him, but there was no heat behind it, not now, just a hazy kind of warmth from the alcohol. It was just—it was like Sixth Year again. That's how it felt, kind of. He was just so close and she couldn't quite work out why they'd been so far from each other—it didn't feel like it mattered right now; not as much, anyway.