witticisms-of-a-wolfâ:
13 October, 1977
The Scottish wind was fierce as it raced through the courtyard, dragging with it the harsh rains that poured down from the slate grey sky. He was moving slower that day, bandages covering the worst of the fresh marks that had been carved into his skin just days before. Every step felt labored and out of place, and the young werewolf was pale with the effort from the long day. Madame Pomfrey had instructed him to take the dayâs rest in his dormitory but he had been insistent on returning to his classes, craving whatever normalcy he could manage. The wizard was halfway back towards Gryffindor tower when he was forced to stop to rest, leaning against a tall stone wall just out of reach of the rain.
He was steadying his breath and shutting his eyes when he heard the sound of her voice, and it snapped him back to reality. Shit.
Pushing himself from the wall with a hastily masked wince, Remus turned on his side, bag sliding lower on his shoulder. He didnât have a chance to respond before the witch had reached the space in front of him, thin arms wrapping around the werewolf in a way that caused him to freeze in surprise. His arms didnât move for a moment, muscles stiff as the rain crashed down behind them.
âHey you.â He murmured, voice low and rough as he forced himself to respond, arms gingerly wrapping around her waist. For a moment, he simply stared out at the rain droplets as they fell behind her, mind racing as she held onto him tightly. After a beat, he lowered his head by instinct, face burying into her rain-soaked hair. The smell of sea salt and coconut was sweet as it blended with the crisp Scottish air, and he let his fingers curl into the fabric of her robes. A fractured rib protested in the background, but this had barely registered in the young manâs mind.
It was only as she had finally let him go that he met her gaze, where droplets of rain clung to her eyelashes. The words came sooner that he had wished.
Howâs your mum?
The question cut into the air, carried away with the wind just as quickly as it had been uttered. Remus swallowed tightly, a mask falling over his face as he blinked, as if to remind himself where he was and who he was. He watched as her gaze fell to a mark the wolf had left behind, visible above the top of his shirt collar. Lowering his head, he let wet curls fall to the side of his face as he answered, the words cool and controlled.
âSheâs alright.â He paused for a beat, eyes flickering back to hers with an indecipherable expression. He shifted the strap of the bag at his side from where it had dug into the bruised bone of his shoulder. âWho told you?â
25 October, 1976
He had wrapped a scarf around his neck, the scarlet wool of his house colors conveniently helping to mask the crimson line of a healing scar. Wet gravel crunched under the soles of his boots as he walked, careful to keep pace with the slight girl at his side. There was a mist rolling in over the mountains in the distance, and the cool fog hung thick and low around them. Ahead of them, the stands of the Quidditch pitch stood tall, school banners bright against the evergreens.
Remus hadnât expected to see Marlene again. Or at least, he hadnât expected the girl to seek him out again after running into him the way that she had. He had worried that he had scared her away, either with the way that he had lied or perhaps by allowing her to see too much. He wasnât quite sure which had bothered him more. However, the following day she had sat by his side at Potions, moving on as if nothing had changed.
The Gryffindor versus Slytherin match would be the first to start off the Quidditch season. James was playing today, and he had asked Remus to come. Things had been different between all of them since that late Spring day that the werewolf had tried to forget. It wasnât easy like it used to be. He could see the concern in Jamesâ eyes, his affectionate and protective nature something that Remus had always admired. Things had changed, and there were still days where it was difficult for him to be in the dormitory with all of them. And yet, the werewolf desperately wanted things to be normal again. He craved the closeness that they had once shared. He had never spoken about the incident, and yet the rift was evident to anyone looking in.
Breathing in the cool Scottish air, Remus stood at the base of the stands for a moment, pausing in the base of a muddy puddle. To one side, Slytherin students filed into the stands in lines of green and silver, banners hung high in the sky with pride. To the opposite side, Gryffindor students steadily took a different path, weaving their way through the edge of trees to a rowdy gathering of scarlet and gold, warm and familiar.
Remus paused, messy curls falling in front of his face as his eyes locked on to an unmistakeable grey gaze in the distance. For a second, they both froze in place, a mouthed invitation hanging on familiar lips before the moment was broken. A girl tugged at the edge of Siriusâ sleeve and pulled him away, pretty cheeks pink in the cool breeze. He swallowed thickly and lowered his head, turning in the other direction and starting out instead towards the line of Slytherin students chatting as they started up a wooden staircase.
Glancing towards Marlene, his lips curled into a small smile, freckles standing out in sharp contrast to his pale skin.
âDo you think theyâll throw me from the stands for cheering for Gryffindor?â
25 October 1976
It was cold that morning, a fog settling across the grounds as the entire school made their way towards the quidditch pitch. Marlene donned a silver and green scarf around her neck, thick black stockings covering her bony legs. Despite the calm happiness that had settled over her in the past few months, she was slighter than she ever had been. She passed it all off, of course, a dirty little secret behind her pretty smiles and mysterious eyes. But the reality of the situation was that she was withering away, every passing day a different punishment on her body (inside and out). Remus walked beside her with his hands in his pockets and she resisted the urge to wrap her arms around one of his. It was something that had been interrupting her thoughts more than she would ever admit. Every time he was near, she found herself wanting to reach out and touch him.
As always, Marlene wore a seemingly easy smile on her pale, angular face and made eye contact with nearly every person she passed. The front was going stronger that day as her housemates looked inquiringly at the boy beside her, raised eyebrows in their direction. The two of them were usually natural at going unnoticed, but quidditch was a gruesomely public event.
As they crossed into the arena, someone across the field caught Marleneâs eye and it took everything in her not to stop in her tracks. Sirius Blackâs gaze was fierce, looking at her as though she were the devil herself. He mouthed her name, gaze going blank a moment later as he turned it. Marlene didnât have to look. She felt the pause in Remusâ walk and held her breath. That single moment seemed to stretch on into eternity. She felt her head swim, a lightness from her lack of nutrients and the general exhaustion of the situation.Â
She chanced a glance at Remus as they approached the steps and the air seemed to rush back into her lungs at once, making her equally dizzy but with a much more pleasant undercurrent. Remus was looking at her, dazzling little smile on his pale face. Do you think theyâll throw me from the stands for cheering for gryffindor? Marlene laughed, tilting her head back as she did so. âThey might,â she reached over and decidedly wrapped her arms around his, still stuffed in his pocket. They took the stairs together, side by side. âBut lucky for you, youâve got an excellent bodyguard.â Marlene winked, a grin on her face as they ascended up to the bleachers. Perhaps it was petty of her, but she suddenly felt as thought she had won a grand prize.
31 October, 1976
In less than a week, the temperature had changed from mildly chilly to viciously cold. It wasnât yet snowing, but Marlene was shivering as she made the familiar trek from the school to the quidditch pitch. The arena had been completely encompassed by what looked like a giant white tent set forth by the most innocent troublemakers the school had ever seen. The teachers all knew of the party, turning a blind eye to allow it to transpire. That was the true magic of the Marauders, who seemed to have rectified their issues in the last few days. They could hold a school-wide party with every intention of debauchery and their charm would allow them the success in putting it off. As much as people hated them for it, they loved it all the same.
Marlene had seen the four of them talking during meal time a few days before, a quiet acceptance of each other she recognized as forgiveness. The first sighting caused her nerves to quiver in secret, unforgivable ways, but remus had sought her out that very night. She had let it go, reveling in the notion that he could actually be friends with more than just them. She was dressed like a flapper, a revel of muggle literature and a time she wouldâve fit into like silk. Her dress was silver, draping down to her feet with a slit that traveled almost all the way up her thigh. Her hair had been charmed to fall half an inch below her chin and her lips were a dark, blood red. She was barefoot.
When she entered the tent, a warmth surrounded her instantly and she shivered from the shock of it. There were crowds of students on a magically lit up dance floor, but beneath her feet there was grass everywhere else. There were transformed couches and chairs along the nylon walls with a corridor of rooms that were all shielded by curtains. Marlene could only imagine what those were for. She made her way down the narrow hall, eyes wandering around the expansive space. She was mesmerized by it all, barely able to imagine what kind of powerful magic those boys had in them to come up with it all.
Marlene had just rounded the corner back into the open area when her gaze met a pair of blue eyes she wouldâve recognized anywhere across the room. An involuntary smile took over her face as she turned and ventured down the hallway, golden hues locked on his until she passed out of sight. She knew heâd get it, as he always did. Follow me.
Marlene ducked into the first empty room she found, her smile turning devilish as she waited. When she heard approaching footsteps in the dry grass, she took her moment and reached out from behind the flap that hid her. Slender fingers wrapped around something of tweed material and yanked. She pulled him into the space in front of her, the sinister smirk turning into a childish grin. She had assumed correctly as a very shocked Remus Lupin came into view. There was laughter in her eyes when she looked up at him, but all she said was a quiet âHello.â












