I heard a joke today.
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@moragmac
I heard a joke today.
seamus:
   he couldnât deny his urge to poke and prod, it was in his nature.  âso is quidditch your distraction from your studies, or is school your distraction from quidditch?â he still wasnât entirely convinced morag wasnât a robot, maybe the question would be enough to cause a malfunction. he wondered if smoke would come out of her ears.  âthereâs nothing healthy about any of this, and you know it.â seamus simply shrugged off her next question. she had a point, but her asking meant that he was getting under her skin, and that made this all worth it.  âiâm supposed to be meeting michael.â he blinked, barely managing to swallow down the rage burning inside of him when she spoke again.  âsome of us donât have the luxury, macdougal. how do you sit there and follow orders when you know what theyâre doing is wrong? whereâs your bloody backbone?â
âQuidditch and school are both distractions from this shitty reality. Itâs not that hard to understand.â Morag wasnât in the mood for a lecture, for Seamusâ holier-than-thou nonsense. Especially as it was Seamus Finnigan --- a walking disaster. âSo, youâre telling me youâre not distracting yourself from all this shit, ever? That you donât flee? Thatâs bullshit. We all have ways to cope. Seamus. Let me have mine.â At the mention of Michael, Morag raised an eyebrow, but didnât ask any further, nodding only in response. She had no interest in the details of that, if she was honest, and was way more focused on the rest of the conversation. âHavenât you heard? I donât have a backbone.â The words were spat out and Morag let them hang in the air for a moment. âSo what, if Iâm a coward? Do you see what weâre up against? Iâm not going to fight that. Iâm keeping my fucking head down because itâs the smart thing to do.â
daphne:
Daphne rolled her eyes. The logic of Moragâs argument wasnât lost on her⊠She just didnât like it. And why would she? There was something special about this particular strip of the lake to her - something that made it feel completely hers. And Morag sitting there seemed to ruin that for her. Was it so hard to ask for some peace and quiet?Â
âAnd so you decide to sit around and sulk?â Daphne questioned - feigning some sort of curiosity. âI wouldâve have thought that a good captain would already be working on new strategies, gathering up the troops and preparing to do better the next time⊠Guess youâre not as good of a captain as I thought.â She really was just egging her on - thinking that maybe if she lit that fire Morag might leave her alone.Â
Morag let Daphneâs words wash over her at first, but then her head snapped around, her eyebrows creased in an angry frown. Part of her knew that Daphne was just trying to get under her skin, for whatever reason, but that didnât mean that she felt compelled to keep calm. She was pissed about losing. Pissed about Kevin not being there. Pissed about failing her entire team in more than one way.
âAnd what would you know about leading people, Greengrass?â Moragâs voiced was slightly raised, as were her eyebrows, her frown gone. âIâm not sulking. Iâm reflecting. Trying to see what points need improvement and --- actually, I donât need to explain myself to you.â Because as she was doing so, she felt her insecurities and self-loathing grow. âFind another spot, Daphne. Iâm not in the mood.â
theoâ:
âItâs not a big deal, just donât go around showing people.â Heâs uncomfortable for a brief second, not used to doing something nice for the simple act of doing so. Especially not for someone like Morag, where interactions have been limited. âThereâs like. A fuck load of people who wouldnât be happy with that book being used, so keep it on the low, yeah? And thanks, Iâd love the ones about History of Magic.â
Theo tries not to grin in amusement at the memory of Ernie talking about his studying schedule. He doesnât give a shit about the Hufflepuff all that much, but for some reason, the other boyâs dramatics amuse Theo more than heâd think. âGuess heâs just not dedicated as us.â Itâs almost a joke, and a slight reference to Moragâs tired state.Â
âShe cried? You know what, Iâm not even surprised. The girl hasnât stopped crying since she stepped foot in this castle in first year.â He rolls his eyes to emphasise his point. âDonât know why Iâm even surprised that these Hufflepuffs are this soft.â
âOh, donât worry. I was planning on just showing Hermione Granger, thatâs it.â Her words are dry and sarcastic and Morag is proud of herself for cracking a joke. Theo gets it, though, she thinks. The need to be best, or whatever messed up reason. âNo, Iâll keep it quiet. Iâll be the only one to read it, donât worry.â Maybe sheâd share her notes on it, though, but Theo neednât know that. âIâll give them to at breakfast tomorrow, okay?â
Morag finds something close to comfort in the slights Theo and her make about Hufflepuffs. It feels wrong, partly, especially with Megan wearing a black-and-yellow tie, too, but sheâs stressed enough. This is a way of release, she supposes, and at least itâs better than crying. âI think heâs more dedicated about bragging about his dedication, if anything.â
She chuckles, a little. âIn class, too. Iâm not too surprised either, but still --- whereâs her pride?â At least Morag cried under the shower or in her pillow, if she did. That she, too, has cried over the stress sheâs feeling was something she thinks didnât need mentioning.
susanâ:
âLovegoodâs costume was definitely⊠a statement piece.â Laughter spilled out of Susanâs lips with ease as she thought of the Ravenclaw. âThank you for approving of my art - donât suppose you want to help paint it, though?â Despite having no real interest in the game, Susan certainly loved the gimmicks of being a supporter and, while not to the same extreme as Luna Lovegood, definitely took it a few steps up. âDean Thomas used to make some sick banners for the matches, remember? Itâs not as much of a competition without him here to rival my art.â It had somehow become a habit, speaking of those that werenât at Hogwarts even though they should. If she wept for every name she uttered in casual conversation, sheâd have gone dry a long time ago, so Susan had to limit herself to a less vibrant shade of a smile. With a sigh, the girl twisted the dry paintbrush in her fingers, her attention returning to the task at hand. âYou know, Iâve been saying this since fourth year, but Hogwarts really should add cheerleading to their list of activities - I would finally be interested in being a part of a sports team then. Morag, Iâm sure you definitely agree with this.â Chuckles returned to the girl, along with a wider grin. âSure, weâre missing some of the muggle basics, like maths or english, but cheerleading really would add some dynamics here.â
âIt truly was. I mostly canât believe she wore a Gryffindor hat, too ----- rooting for another team!â Morag didnât have a place to talk, of course, with her supporting Hufflepuff the upcoming match ( but only for Megan --- the Gryffindor team winning would be better for her own chances at the Cup, after all ). âI would help but Iâm ... quite useless at drawing. Maybe just some writing?â At the mention of Dean Thomas, Morag felt herself freeze up a little, not entirely prepared for this sudden turn of a conversation. Sure, Susan had mentioned it as casually as she could but still --- Morag preferred not to talk about things like their missing classmates in moments like these. Or at all, really. âMaybe thereâs still some of his banners in the Gryffindor dorm or common room?,â she offered, shrugging a little. âYou could ask Neville or Seamus, Iâm sure theyâd know.â Moragâs eyes were mostly focused on Susanâs banner while she spoke, feeling uncomfortable and uneasy but trying not to show it. She was glad that the other talked so much and easily, as she was soon able to smile at her words in stead of feel guilt at them. âI think that would be great. More sports would be a good idea, anyway --- Iâd love it if we could do competitive swimming, or something.â And having English classes wouldnât be a bad thing, either, thought Morag. âMaybe one day.â
sophie:
âAlright.â Morag knew what she was doing, right? Sophie could trust her with the simple task of making sure she didnât hurt herself while flying. She laughed softly at her qualms with golf, things that Sophie liked most about the game - the peacefulness of it. How she and her dad could just walk around talking while they played. But, she nodded, pushing herself up a couple feet higher ( She was a Gryffindor, after all, pacing around the pitch wasnât as terrifying as actually playing a match ) and started around the pitch side-by-side with Morag. âItâs nice that they did bring back Quidditch.â Sophie added conversationally. âI think everyone was getting anxious without any extracurriculars.â And sure, most of the students still didnât have any, like Sophie herself, but it was nice to at least have the games to go to. The normalcy they brought with them was comforting.Â
Sophie brought up the return of Quidditch and Morag was glad of it. The entirety of the situation was so foreign to her that coming up with small talk topics was somehow even harder than usual, and with Sophie heading the conversation, she didnât have to. âI agree. I mean --- I donât know if nice isI the right word. But I am happy about it.âÂ
She still wasnât sure how to feel about it, still couldnât help but feel a great amount of dread when she thought about the upcoming match, and it wasnât only because of her fragile team and her worries about losing. The Carrowâs and Snapeâs agendas were unpredictable. She had no idea what to expect. âItâs quite nice, isnât it? Just flying around?â Morag glanced sideways, wanting to keep the conversation going, finding her mind relaxing slightly as they talked. âThe air always seems fresher when youâre flying to me.â
sally-anneâ:
Moragâs reaction didnât completely surprise Sally-Anne, but it did make her eyebrows knit in concern. She could see the self-doubt so clearly in Moragâs expression, that feeling Sally-Anne was so familiar with of thinking that anything she did would never be quite enough. Always comparing her triumphs to those of others. Sally-Anne shook her head.Â
âNo, Iâm not, Iâm not just saying it,â she assured Morag. âLook, I know it canât be easy for you.â Sally-Anne hoped she would know what she was referring to; of course, sheâd never discussed Moragâs family with Morag herself, but being as close to Lisa as she was meant that Sally-Anne was fully informed on that whole situation (albeit through a somewhat narrow point of view, as was an unfortunate tendency of Lisaâs). She didnât dare voice this aloud in her girlfriendâs presence, but Sally-Anne figured that if sheâd been raised in the same manner as Morag, it was likely sheâd behave similarly. Only in the past couple months had she drawn enough courage to stand up for what was right, even with her halfblood, staunchly anti-Death Eater upbringing. Sure, Lisa had overcome similar circumstances to Moragâs years ago, but not everyone could be Lisa Turpin.Â
( And besides, had she really overcome them completely? )Â
âI know we havenât been close and I know there areâŠÂ complications to that. But, I dunno, Iâd like for that to be different. I guess Iâm just trying to say Iâm here if you ever need anything, even just to talk.â
Morag was -- in all honesty -- a bit stunned. She was aware of the fact that she wasnât the most sociable and extroverted person, that she was clumsy with words, but this situation was --- well, she had absolutely no clue how to respond. That Sally-Anne was a better, more honest person was something sheâd been aware of for a long time, but she didnât like the reminder.
âItâs not easy for anyone.â She didnât know if she was saying the words maliciously, to mock Sally-Anne, or because she believed them. Maybe a bit of both. Morag could feel defensive walls building themselves --- she didnât want any of this. She didnât want Sally-Anneâs compassion, her kindness, even if her words did stir something inside of her. Maybe she had a point. Or maybe she was just completely blind, fooled by her own optimism, making things prettier in her head than they truly were. Morag wasnât entirely sure, but being unsure about things was nothing new for her. âBut no. Itâs not been easy.âÂ
She thought of her family, for a second. About how things still didnât seem finished, even if they were, about how some days she still considered owling her mother and begging for her forgiveness. She never gave in, but knew that, maybe, one day, she would. Morag wanted to tell Sally-Anne this (Â or anyone, really --- but Sally-Anne happened to be there, right there and then ), but didnât.
âOh.â Morag thought over Sally-Anneâs words --- she liked the other. She did. She might not understand her, but there was a part of her that undeniably respected Sally-Anne, that was true. âThatâs --- Iâd like that, Sally-Anne. Iâm not very good at it, but Iâd like that. The same goes for you.â
meganâ:
every time she caught her eye, megan couldnât help but smile. it was like a game, waiting to see when their glances would line up, when their eyes would meet, when megan could toss a playful wink her girlfriends way. it was a game that had far too much of her concentration, considering the fact that lily was trying to hold a conversation from right beside her â something about the party?  the carrows?  the upcoming game?  surely part of her was keeping up. she wasnât always this distracted. no. she had to focus. turning her attention back to lily, she tried for a smile.  â sorry, what was that you were saying? â instinctively, her eyes turned back to the ravenclaw table â only for her heart to sink at the realisation that morag was no longer sitting there.
slouching against the table top, megan sighed as her eyes ran back to her friend, the frown on her features lasting only for a second as she felt delicate fingers lace across her shoulders. looking up at morag, megan smiled, nuzzling her neck into her girlfriends shoulder as she leaned down towards her. placing a hand over moragâs arm, she looked down at her food, deciding she was plenty done now that was morag was here and standing up quickly as her smile widened.
â you had me at hey, â she teased, running her hand down the girls arm and lacing their fingers together gently. glancing back at lily, she smiled. â see you tomorrow? â she offered, before bouncing down the hall towards the door, dragging her girlfriend in tow.  â i think a couch sounds good tonight, â she called, looking back to direct her smile moragâs way.  â donât you think? â
Something about Megan just soothed Morag, simple as that. The touch of her fingers, the sound of her voice, the glance of her eyes --- they were all bright spots among a dark night, and she wasnât sure where sheâd be without them. Luckily, for both of them, she had the feeling she wouldnât have to experience a world like that any time soon. Megan was hers and had been for years now and Morag had no plans to change that.
She gave Lily a polite smile and a bye before being being dragged away by Megan, her hand in her own, and Moragâs polite smile grew into a wide, genuine one. Megan didnât have the ability to ease all her worries and stresses away, but she made them seem smaller at the very least, and for now, that was enough. The fact that there could be something that came so easy to her, that felt so absolutely natural ... it was strange, in all honesty. Everything else took precise thought and worry upon worry and Megan --- well, since sheâd chosen her, everything about Megan had become even easier.Â
âIt absolutely does,â said Morag, a smile tugging at her lips, still. She pulled at Meganâs hand, inching closer to her before pressing a quick kiss on her lips. âYour common room or mine?â Another kiss was placed on Meganâs lips, Moragâs eyes twinkling as she looked at the other. âOr we could transfigure a desk in an empty classroom into one --- have some privacy.âÂ
WHEN: January 28th, 8:12PM WHERE: Ravenclaw Common Room WHO:Â @tcrrybootsâ
âHey Terry, Iâve got your ---â Book. Morag swallowed the last word, letting the book itself hang in the air as she froze. She pulled back her arm after a few seconds, tucking the book under her arm and looking at Terry, not entirely sure what to do. Sheâd hesitated for too long now to make anything seem natural, and she longed, for only a moment, for more compassion. He was crying. She looked closer --- was he? Maybe it was just allergies, or the way the light was falling or --- or maybe she just wanted this situation to be anything but this.Â
She hesitated again. Swallowed, thickly, let her eyes dance around the room, hoping to spot Anthony or Michael or Sue or Padma or anyone who was better at this than her. That should have been an easy task, as she was fairy horrible at this, and yet there was no one. She looked at Terry again, realised that he really was crying. âWhatâs --- hey, whatâs wrong Terry?â Morag drummed her fingers against his book. âI can come back later, if you want.â
â
âWayne Hopkins,â said Morag, trying to make her voice sound as serious as she could, even if her words were still slurred. âI need to talk to you.â Her lips closed themselves around the straw in her cup â how she had gotten the straw, she didnât know, but she preferred drinking this way.
Clearing her throat, she put her drink down. âSometimes you and Mandy remind me of Megan and me, you know? Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, defying all odds ⊠different worlds, different blood statuses and different ⊠a lot of differences. And still loving one another!â She frowned a little, reconsidering her words. âI mean, Megan and me â we had some bullshit to dig through and once you and Mandy do that, and I know that time will come ⊠just be kind with her, okay? And patient. She loves you soooooooo much. And if you hurt her I dunno what Iâll do, because ⊠I think youâre pretty nice and all, but if you hurt Mandy ⊠youâre worse than You Know Who, in my book! Iâll bloody kill ya. Even if youâre like hurt or whatever â donât you dare break her heart, yeah? Alright, thatâs all â go be a good boyfriend to my girl and have a great party!â
âș
She wasnât entirely sure what had happened â her thoughts had become clouded and the world was spinning slightly and part of her wondered why people liked being drunk so much when it made everything seem so off. Another part was accepting it, going with it, thriving on the complete sense of relaxation that she â for what seemed like the first time in her life â was feeling.
And so when Fay Dunbar offered Morag a bodyshot, she had said yes before realising what was happening. âIâm horrible at these,â she said, apologising in advance, but grinning a little. She grabbed the tequila tighter, poured some into Fayâs navel and then didnât stop.
âOh no!â she exclaimed, continuing to pour, watching liquor slosh over the otherâs body, hoping itâd stick horribly. âI canât stop!â Eventually, she put the bottle back ( taking a quick sip of it first, pulling a face once the liquor was on her lips ), looking down at Fay. âOops. I told you â Iâm horrible at these.â
âș
A part of Morag had wanted nothing but Megan all night. Every moment she spent talking to someone else, she thought of her girlfriend, wanting to be in her company, in her arms, her lips on her own.Â
She craved her. Missed her as if it was summer break and she was cooped at home (Â which no longer was home, now )Â and she had not seen her for weeks. Of course, she had seen her earlier that evening, had stolen many glances off of her ââ but Morag was drunk, and her longing had increased tenfold.
Soon enough she found Megan. She asked people if theyâd seen her, letting them point her in the direction only so she could get lost again. How that was possible was beyond her, as the common room wasnât that big, but eventually she found her.
And she kissed her, for what seemed like an eternity in her drunken state, pulling back with a wide grin. âI want to try doing a body shot,â she said, beaming at Megan. âIâve seen people do them and ââ I want to do it. It looks like fun.â ( If she were sober, she would probably consider it a rather ineffective way of drinking alcohol, which it certainly was, but in that moment she just wanted to do something fun. )
Megan was horizontal soon enough and Morag was following the instructions with complete faith and concentration. Of course it didnât go right â she was no party girl, inexperienced with this state of drunkenness and completely useless at party tricks. Liquor spilled over Meganâs body and Morag giggled, pressing a quick kiss on her stomach, and another, and another. Eventually, she placed a kiss on Meganâs lips and looked at her with a grin on her lips and in her eyes. âOops! Doesnât matter, though â I think thatâs more fun, anyway.âÂ
â
tMorag stumbled. She wanted to go to bed â she was angry and tired and the whole world was spinning and she didnât like it one bed. The problem was, however, that in her drunken state, she kept getting distracted. There was someone to banter with about Quidditch, and then someone to roll her eyes at, someone to yell at and then someone to laugh and hug.
She was quite sure that sheâd never talked to this many people in such a short amount of time ever before. It was fucking exhausting.
And yet, she kept going. Eyes fell on Seamus Finnigan and Morag walked over, determined, with a drink in her hand ( how it got there, she didnât remember, but she took a huge sip from it anyway ).Â
âHey, hey Seamus â remember that ⊠thing that happened? It really ââ She swallowed, shook her head. âI dunno if I could say no again, ya know? That was the fucking worst. Iâm not sure if I can say no again if it means going through⊠that.â Morag laughed, and then shrugged, her drink spilling on the carpet. âI guess Iâm the coward people keep tellinâ me I am!â
morag macdougal + textpostsÂ
â
This hadnât been the plan. Morag had decided before the party started that she would slip up to the girls dorm early and pass out in Meganâs bed on time so she could get up early the day after to work on her essays. And here she was, up past her bedtime, getting more and more drunk as time passed.
She blamed the company she was in. And the loss of the Quidditch match. And maybe, somewhere, also her issues at home, which now no longer was her home.
It had not taken a lot for her to get drunk, and after that, things had gone downhill. Somehow, she found her way to Terry. She hadnât known it, but once she saw him, the need to talk to him was there, and she approached him clumsily, spilling some of her â well, she had no idea what she was drinking actually â on the carpet. âBoot! Iâve got to say, I get why people like parties so much. You know, sometimes I think that Iâm the worst enemy in my life â why donât I allow myself to let go like this more often, hm? Are you happy with yourself? Because Iâm not sure if I am.â
â pansy
Somehow, Morag had ended up in the middle of a game of spin the bottle, and she had no idea how or why. In fact, she was trying desperately to slip away unnoticed, hoping to get away once the bottle had landed on someone and everyone was focused on the kiss. Of course, she had failed to consider the fact that it could land on her, too.
Shit.
âI have a girlfriend,â she protested, looking up from the bottle to the spinner, feeling more and more uncomfortable with the second. She longed for her dorm and its silence and lack of loud teenagers. âI mean â sheâs right here.âÂ
But Pansy leaned in anyway and Morag considered her options for a moment. She could chicken out â nothing was forcing her to do this and yet ⊠Morag MacDougal did not chicken out of a challenge. And so she leaned in, too, giving Pansy a quick peck on her lips before getting up. âThat was lovely. Iâm going to get a drink.â
"Morag! I've been looking for you." Sophie announced, linking their arms together and pressing a sweet peck to her cheek. "I just... I wanted to say thank you for taking me out to fly. That was, that was really sweet of you and you didn't need to do that and it was a lot of fun and really nice and you're really nice and you're so pretty and smart." Sophie pressed another kiss to her cheek. "Thank you!"
She didnât feel comfortable at the party. Everyone was too loud, too drunk, too out of control, and Morag was the absolute opposite of that. And while she wasnât going to, she wanted to leave desperately, even moreso when a very clearly drunk Sophie Roper kissed her on her cheek.
Not once. But twice.
She stiffened up, pulling away slightly from the Gryffindor. âOh, youâre ⊠welcome? It was nothing.â It had been something, Morag knew that â itâd surprised her, that sheâd tried to help someone she barely considered a friend. Sophie called her nice and pretty and smart, and while she agreed on the last one, she dismissed the others in her head.âI need a drink. And you need water.â