marlene mckinnon.

"I’m a romantic, an absurdist. I am bad with facts and I get confused. I’m a hostile witness. I didn’t want to see this, talk about this. I wanted to testify to something else."

[mrlenemckinnons]

potterj​:

— 🦌 —

     James nods his head, agreeing with her statement. The death eaters, knowing their history, having lived through their history, were definitely planning something. It was clear no one was going to take action. He figures that between him and Marlene, they can get some answers… He thinks for a second that maybe he should tell Moody what they’re up to, but then decides against it, knowing he’d be asked to stop as soon as he even uttered such an idea. Probably even asked to go home. No, better to ask for forgiveness rather than permission.      He smiles at Marlene’s eagerness, an emotion which they were both feeling tons of recently. “Now?” he responds out of energy that could only be categorized as slightly neurotic. Without waiting for a response, James rushes over to his desk and takes his robe from where it’s hung over the back, shoving it on quickly before tapping a sign on his desk, changing it from “IN” to “OUT” in a quick second. He returns back to Marlene’s with a determined look and nod his head towards the exit.      He lowers his voice and glances around to make sure no one else is listening. “I’ll tell Moody that I’m checking out a shop in Diagon. We have been taking a closer eye on small businesses, looking for anything suspicious, so he won’t assume anything out of the ordinary.” He puts his hand on her shoulder. “I’ll meet you at the floos downstairs? Better no one sees us leave together.” He smirks, and shrugs. “Us Gryffindors… always up to no good.” 

*

Last time, the Ministry had been too slow. The Ministry had been too slow and people had died. Marlene and James had graduated into the thick of it - two years after the Auror department had started “mobilising” and it had still been like grinding teeth. Anyone who really cared, well they joined the Order. War as an extra curricular - a real step down from Quidditch. She had learned to be flexible with the rules, what bosses could be circumvented. All the best excuses. She had learned that there was no point fighting the Department. Better just to ignore it, and fuck the consequences. As James said, Gryffindors were always up to no good. She flashed him a grin. “Right,” She agreed. “I’m going to go get Prewett to cover for me and use the loo. Give me five minutes.”

Marlene made quick work of it - offered Fabian three days of paperwork to make up excuses (just tell them it’s lady problems or whatever. that I have the clap - get creative) and grabbed her coat. Nodded politely at office workers in the halls, strolled as if she were on her way to the canteen right down to the fireplaces off the main hall. This was one of the quieter entrances to the Ministry, and it was past rush hour. The perfect time to slip off at least mostly unnoticed. “There you are Potter” She grinned. “I’d say the nearest Floo to our destination is the one down from Flourish and Blotts - what do you think?”

[mrlenemckinnons]

etoiledechien​:

He took a moment to study Marlene, an eyebrow raising up when he spotted the grimace. The idea of questioning it had briefly come to mind but there was the off chance she had caught his own sour expression. Although rather fitting given the circumstances, it still left him worrying.

“Boring,” Sirius rolled his eyes when she ordered. He was joking, for the most part, and grabbed a glass, nose wrinkling when he went to add the firewhiskey. “For fuck’s sake McKinnon,” He grimaced and held his right index finger up for her to see, pouting at the spot where the blue nail polish had chipped off. “That one cost me a nail and you didn’t even want rocks.”

The expression proved to be short lived since he got distracted by pouring a glass for her, gently pushing it across the counter. “You alright, work and all that? This is how things have been for the week.”

*

“A nail. Get over yourself Black. In my business we can’t even paint our nails.” She held up her own hand. It wasn’t a lie - painted nails were not regulation for hit witches or wizards - but her own nails, bitten down, were all her own fault. One of several nervous tics. She took the firewhiskey, let the burn warm her throat, familiar comfort.

“Oh y’know. Work is work. What’s one, small harmless terrorist attack in the grand scheme of things.” She couldn’t keep the venom from her voice. “The bureaucracy is overwhelming. Can you believe I can’t just curse everyone I think might be responsible? You should’ve seen Alecto Carrow. She was asking for it Sirius.” Marlene rubbed her face, smudging the mascara already smeared under her eye. 

“Can’t exactly blame anyone for not being in the drinking mood.” Her tone was light, dry, jokey. “You love to skive off work. Must be your dream week.” She knew, all the same, that Sirius was probably just as scared as she was. 

[mrlenemckinnons]

its-marymacxo​:

who: @mrlenemckinnons where: marlene’s home

Mary had invited herself over to Marlene’s for tea after what felt like an incredibly long week.  She hadn’t told Marlene about it yet, but that was fine.  If you couldn’t show up at your friends house completely unannounced and eat their food and drink their tea, were you even really friends?  It felt like fear, worry, and mistrust were still lingering in the air, and Mary wasn’t sure if she wanted to talk to Marlene about all of her own worries, or if she wanted to chat about everything and anything else.  Maybe a little bit of both - Merlin knew they had a lot to catch up on.  Finding herself at Marlene’s front door, she sang out in tandem with her knocks, “Marlene McKinnon, your favourite person is here to see you!  I’ve even brought biscuits.”

*

Marlene was a natural born extrovert. She could never turn down a friend at the door. Especially a friend as good and warm as Mary. Opening the door to her, pleasant surprise filled Marlene, uncomplicated joy after a week of working too hard, of looking over her shoulder and tossing in her sleep. “Mary MacDonald those biscuits better be chocolate chip. And if you brought me digestives you can turn around right now.” She grinned, pulled her in for a hug. “C’mon, I’ll pop the kettle on. Greta’s out, somewhere, I dunno. How are you?” Marlene hardly gave Mary a moment to get a word on, her rapid fire speech as much as sign of her affection as her hug. 

[mrlenemckinnons]

lleuadblaidd​:

*

“Recycling insults for Padfoot? I must have really pissed you off.” He fully anticipated a solid thwack for that one, but it never came and her mention of the buddy system quickly enlightened him to the source of her ire. “Sorry, Marls,” he murmured, sheepishly rubbing at the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean to worry you.”  He’d been so busy worrying so much about everyone else’s safety, that he hadn’t once stopped to think about his own. 

A faint but appreciative smile pulled at his lips as he looked down at what remained on his list. “Uh, from here, mostly just some supplies for home brews that Lil’s requested.” He planned on going into muggle London for grocery shopping, and he figured he didn’t really need a baby sitter for that.

“Most of it looks like standard healer’s kit items,” he noted. Most of it was stuff she could easily get from Mungo’s, but he remembered too well how scarce some of these ingredients became during the war. It probably was a smart idea to stock up on the supplies now. 

With a small huff of a sigh, Remus tugged lightly at Marlene’s elbow, guiding her along with him back down the isle. “Any word from the department on the investigation?”

*

Marlene tilted her head, kinder than before. “You know it’s bad when I’m the worrier. Where’s James when you need him. I’m pretty sure this is his job.” She couldn’t help the small, fond smile that crept onto her face. When had they become adults? 

She peered around Remus’s shoulder at the lift and nodded softly. “Lily knows best, anyway. D’you really think this could be- well, do you think it’s going to get like last time?” All the adult had left her voice. She sounded like a little girl. She felt like a little girl, comforted by even the slight physical affection of Remus’s hand at her elbow. Get a grip Mar. 

She walked down the aisle, trying for casual as she plucked bandages and a pack of stitching needles off the shelf. “Nothing yet. You know the Ministry. Always two weeks behind the news, if we need anything we need - well we need the Order.”

[mrlenemckinnons]

etoiledechien​:

Green Dragon Pub, Evening | Sirius & Open

Sirius could have gotten away with not going into work. That much he was certain of given the overwhelming amount of unease that seemed to accompany the few people he ran into when out in public. The thought was dismissed after several days spent cooped up indoors resulted in his being desperate to get back out again.

He was in dire need of something to do to occupy his thoughts. There were too many what-ifs being asked and a proper distraction was proving to be necessary. Work would hopefully mean keeping his hands busy and conversations that didn’t focus on the implication of the mark appearing in the sky.

It was a slow evening and he had been about ready to close the pub early. A look of relief washed over when the door opened and someone came in. “Thank Merlin,” He exhaled, shifting so he could be seen behind the counter. “Just when I was thinking we weren’t going to have anyone else show up. What can I get you?”

*

Tomorrow would be Marlene’s first day off in the aftermath of the chaos. A day off she sorely needed - though she had refused to admit it. Her manager had insisted. One day, Marlene. Nothing new is coming through anyway. She knew he was right. That was the worst of it. Everything was moving so slowly. The future was never certain, sure, but it had been different during the war. They had all been crushed by the uncertainty, the cloud of confusion they had lived in for years. Even the barest hint of it brought long buried feelings rushing to the surface, like a switch that had been flipped. 

Marlene had tried many ways to cope with that uncertainty: sex worked, for a while. Drugs too, when she could get them. Alcohol though, alcohol had an advantage. No seduction necessary. No hanging around waiting for some kid in a tracksuit to rip you off. Just walk right in, sit down and order. Better again when you had an in with the bartender. 

The Green Dragon wouldn’t have been on Marlene’s radar but for Sirius. Still, it was usually busy on a Friday night. She took in the dead bar with a grimace. Clearly she wasn’t the only one feeling off in the wake of the attack. “Well, you know me.” Marlene forced her dejected grimace into a cheeky smile, her tone light. “I’m a party all by myself. And I’m drinking firewhiskey. Neat, please.” 

[mrlenemckinnons]

miss-alectoxcarrow​:

Alecto stared at Marlene with the ghost of a smirk on her face, eyes bright and dancing with their usual contemptuous malice.  She wasn’t wandless, of course, but her wand wasn’t in her hands.  She didn’t truly feel any threat.  Alecto was almost waiting for anger sparks to shoot out the end of Marlene’s wand, who seemed to be gripping it extra tightly.  “I’ll pass.”  She wasn’t responsible for the Morsmordre, of course, nor did she think that Marlene was insinuating that she was.  Still, what was she going to do?  Arrest her for smiling?  Please.  The trouble the Carrows would make for a wrongful arrest would be more of a headache than it was worth.  “I’m perfectly capable of apparting myself home, but I do appreciate your concern.  Do I have your permission to do so?”  Her tone mocking, Alecto crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow.

*

Marlene weighed the possibilities in her head. The site of the mark - well, it was too high in the sky to exactly place the cast without being directly under it, but with an educated guess Marlene could put Alecto there and give her time to get here. It had been what, ten minutes? It wouldn’t be difficult. But was it likely? No, Marlene didn’t think so. The Order had had their suspicions, but not about Alecto being in the inner circle. She didn’t seem fervent enough or desperate enough to be responsible. Marlene’s instincts said no, and they were perhaps the only thing she could trust. Still, she wasn’t going to let her speak down on her. “Glad you know to ask.” She bit back. “Go, now - before I change my mind.”

[mrlenemckinnons]

potterj​:

— 🦌 —

     “We are on the exact same page then,” he says with a slightly crazed grin. Marlene was his favourite hitwix to work with for a reason: she was determined, talented with a wand, and sometimes even ruthless. He needed that kind of support on the field, and he knows if it wasn’t for her, he’d be much worse off. James had always been someone who needed close company: in Hogwarts it was with the marauders, but as graduation came and went and with it did their different career paths, he was glad to find another family in those he worked closely with.      He nods in disbelief, remembering the order he had been given to stay put and wait further instructions. “Not sure what they’re expecting from us,” he says honestly, annoyance shining through. “We fought a war, and they expect us to stay behind? I have a family.” He had so much pent up anger from just seeing that symbol, he needed to get it out. Complaining allowed for a mild relief, but in the long run, he’d much rather take down some death eaters.      James supposes he should trust the Minister and the Head Auror— they were much more experienced than him, and they, too, had fought for the end of the last war— but with so much on the line, with his family’s lives on the line, he suffered the conflict between leaping to action and dutifully following orders. James was used to being the one who made the orders and he definitely had a tendency to be what his friends would consider a control freak. Breaking other people’s rules only came natural to him.      “I mean,” he starts with a shake of his head. “They aren’t known for their inclination to wait and act rationally. Who knows what they’re up to right now while we’re sitting on our arses, reading the bloody Daily Prophet and pretending like they’ve simply opened up a new tattoo shop down Diagon Alley. Giving them more time to plan is a mistake,” he says, a fiery look in his eye.

*

Thank Merlin for James Potter. Yes, she had been in the he’s fucking annoying, Lily camp in school but she had sine come around. He was good to Lily, great with Harry. And at work - well James was good at his job and as headstrong as Marlene. And their shared Order background, their extracurricular work, made them very compatible partners on cross-department co-operation. Or, in this case compatible in ignoring the cross department co-operation. 

Marlene nodded, trying not to look as frantic as she felt. They had fought a war. They had spent four years on high alert. It had taken a long time for Marlene to stop looking over her shoulder. She had never stopped waking up sweaty, haunted by the people she had hurt and the people she had seen hurt. Marlene didn’t have a family like James had a family. There was no one waiting for her at home, no cute little dark-haired kid, thank fuck, but she had lost family. She had lost friends. She wouldn’t allow it to happen again, “Exactly. We can’t just sit around.” Marlene didn’t sit around. Sitting around meant thinking, and thinking was the worst. Especially at a time like this.

“Yes I mean - “ She shook her head, furious. “Even if this was just someone acting on their own, by now whoever is left will be asking each other what’s going on. They might be excited to get this going again. And that’s like, the best case scenario.” Marlene glanced around the office. “We should go, now. To Diagon Alley.” 

[mrlenemckinnons]

gretacatch​:

     Greta had been physically shaking when she herself stumbled through the threshold earlier that night, the image of the dark mark looming in the sky a living nightmare. Stuck in her mind as if she was looking up at it still and not into the emptiness of their flat. Thankful to find it empty, if only to spare Marlene the sight of her. Sobering with shock, the effects of her drinking during the festivities abandoned her while she made way through the space clumsily. Numbly. 

Greta did not speak of the war. She cared little to even attempt to convey her feelings, the fear; the battle within herself. Wondering often the difference between cowardice and survival. The want to help, but never knowing a how. She had spent four years in its aftermath still haunted, and now, here it was anew. 

She’d hardly recall how she got to the table, going through the motions of making herself tea in a daze. How much time had even passed as she sat there was harder still to tell. Gouda was nested on her head, humming in an attempt to sooth her. Marlene’s eventual return home stirred her, face buried into her arms until she’d popped upright. “Here,” had been called back. Though it mattered little, Marlene coming directly into the kitchen herself a second later. 

“Yes, please. I could use another.” The cup in front of her had long gone cold, mostly drained to its bottom. Her question elicited a loud huff of air, unsure if there were words for it. “I’m still not sure it feels real yet,” Greta admitted in a half-whisper. 

*

Marlene turned around, leaning against the counter, arms folded defensively across her chest. Emotion hung so heavy tonight, deeply unavoidable - but she wasn’t ready. She wasn’t sure she could do this. She felt raw, felt like she’d picked a scab and the wound had bled again. She could picture how she looked right now: tired eyes and ashy skin, hair unkempt - almost greasy from sweat, civilian clothes creased and smudged with dirt. Greta might have been clean but she managed to look just as poor. She looked as though she’d been sitting at the table for hours.

“I know what you mean. It’s so frustrating...” Marlene could hardly air the thought. She wished there’d been someone to hit today. Or even someone to throw a curse at. She dropped her hands to her sides and balled up her fists as the kettle whistled to a boil. Two mugs, Marlene’s  favourite - an old Ravenclaw mug that Matt had been given as a graduation present - and one with a cat printed on the side for Greta. She went through the motions: tea bags, water, let it brew, before speaking again.

“I just.... is it one person, acting out? Or is this-” Was she helping? Probably not, but she couldn’t hold back the thoughts, couldn’t edit for Greta’s sake. “Is this it starting again?”

[mrlenemckinnons]

thewolfmoonn​:

*

Friendly (if somewhat disgruntled) features quickly saw to a release of tension in Remus’s stance. Just Marlene. Or maybe he shouldn’t be thinking just in regards to the woman, because clearly she had it out for him more than anyone else he’d yet to run into that day. 

“Hello, Marlene. It’s lovely to see you as well. How are you this fine day?” He paired an arch of his brow with the sardonic reply before giving a shake of his head. Clearly she was on edge and he couldn’t blame her. They all were. Even so, he wasn’t quite certain what he could have done to be the one to draw her ire. 

“Perhaps you could clarify? I know it’s novelty, but I do usually have more than just one thought running through my head at a time.” Mentally he was going through his checklist. Lily and Harry were home safe. He’d double checked all of the wards. He hadn’t left them alone, as Padfoot had been there prowling the perimeter like the over protective watch dog he was. James was either on auror duty or with his family. – He couldn’t think of anything he might have missed.

—

Marlene observed the way Remus’ body relaxed as he took her in and tensed her own jaw in return. That was a mistake. She was never the most patient person but she tried her best with her friends. Today, her best was not good enough.

“You know how I am and actually-” Marlene narrowed her eyes. They weren’t in school anymore. It wasn’t appropriate to hit him, even lightly. “I don’t think you even have one thing going through your head at any given time.” Not true. Remus was almost certainly more thoughtful than she was. And she was being harsh. They were all under a high level of pressure tonight. Could she blame him?

“Have you heard of this thing called the buddy system? Or are you all for risking your own life?” The anger was leaving her now, the relief of seeing him safe finally catching up with her. She took a deep breath and shifted her stance. “What do you need to get?”

[mrlenemckinnons]

motherdoe​:

She’s thrown up after hearing the news. Her heart beating quickly, the nerves possibly overtaking her more than she’d expected. James’ patronus had lit up the living room just for a moment, disappearing so quickly that she knew he was incredibly busy with what had happened. But at least she knew he was safe. She decided she couldn’t go to work. No, not when it was like her nightmares were coming true.

She’d told Harry to go and stay in his room for a bit as she rushed to the phone in the kitchen. She needed to check up on so many people and she knew at least a few of them had phones in their home (thanks to her insistence.) So preoccupied and mind buzzing with terror, Lily didn’t hear anyone walking into the house. It wasn’t until Marlene’s voice that she stopped. Joy and then unexpected dread. What if— no. She was thinking paranoid war thoughts now. Of course it was Marlene.

Nonetheless, Lily hesitated in calling back before she heard her friend again. She let out a breath of relief, surprise and heart-wrenching affection and gratitude that her best mate would even think to worry about making certain it was her. She dropped the phone, letting the cord catch it and bounce it against the wall while she ran towards her. Lily crushed Marlene in an embrace. “Oh my god, you’re okay,” she breathed out. She hadn’t realized how frightened she’d been for her friend until she was practically trembling in her arms.

—

It was painful, realizing just how little progress they had all made. The visceral reaction they all had to a fucking symbol. If she had been alone in it, she would have considered it pathetic but it was hard to be so harsh, even internally, towards her dearest friends. The scene in front of her was not a scene from 1985 so much as it was a scene from 1980: Lily, looking ill and tired, her phone unlatched on the cord. The kitchen at Potter Manor was a far cry from the cramped space at Godric’s Hollow, but the sense of deja vu was undeniable. 

Marlene wrapped her arms around Lily. She had always been prone to physical affection and since her brother’s death, it was practically the only way she accepted comfort from anyone. She needed it now, returning the intensity of her best friend’s embrace. “I’m okay, I’m fine.” She mumbled into the shoulder of Lily’s jumper. “I’m okay, you’re okay.” She held on a little longer, breathing deeply, allowing the familiar smell, the warmth of Lily to calm her down. She had not had a moment to be soft, to panic, since that skull had appeared over the sky. 

Finally, she pulled back, still gently gripping Lily by her elbows. “I’m sorry it took me so long to get here.” She didn’t have to explain why. Lily had James. She understood. “How is Harry doing? Does he know something is wrong?” Marlene released Lily and glanced around the warm kitchen before moving towards a chair at the little table. “And can I please have a coffee?” Please. Something was clearly wrong when Marlene bothered with manners with Lily. 

[mrlenemckinnons]

miss-alectoxcarrow​:

–

Alecto smirked as she caught sight of Marlene.  Maybe she was smarter than Alecto gave her credit for, but then again, Alecto didn’t think about her much.  At the very least, she wasn’t underestimating her, and that was something.  As far as her involvement as a Death Eater went, Alecto had been happy to hide behind the suspicions that had been predominantly placed on her father and brother.  And of course, having money and privilege helped her buy her way out of trouble.  Though Marlene’s tone indicated that she had little patience left, Alecto couldn’t help but push.  “Oh, I had no idea.  Such a shame too, the festival was so fun and sophisticated.”  Why they would evacuate over something so harmless, she wasn’t sure, and she’d been purposely ignoring the amplified voices.  She wasn’t going to be bossed around by some idiot Ministry official.  “I suppose I got separated in all the chaos.  Are you going to hold my hand, McKinnon?  I’m oh so scared and frightened.”

—

Marlene had her wand in her right hand, and cursing Alecto would definitely be breaking protocol. Still, she had her left hand and two feet. The hit witch standard operating procedure had a significant gap in punching and kicking. Most witches and wizards were over reliant on their wands, but Marlene had always been intensely physical: in her friendships, in her romances and in her conflicts. The thought of punching Alecto’s smug face was soothing enough to stop her from actually carrying it through. Yet. “Yes, I can feel the fear radiating off you.” Marlene deadpanned, eyes narrowed. “The safest place in the world is a Ministry holding cell, you know. I could escort you there right now, if you’re too weak of a witch to take the Floo network with the children.”

[mrlenemckinnons]

WHERE: Marlene and Greta’s London flat WHO: @gretacatch​ WHEN: Late into the night after the Morsmorde attack 

Marlene was sweaty, disheveled, exhausted. May day celebrations had been brutally soured.  She had not hesitated to begin working, had not waited for approval. Marlene had no passion for her job, but she understood duty well. Duty had brought her to the Ministry, had brought her to the Order. She had caught sight of Greta hours ago, from the other side of Diagon Alley, following the rest of the crowd, before Marlene had made her way towards the source of the sign or checked on Lily and Harry. 

She had thought of her roommate frequently though. Marlene carried her own trauma, often struggled under the weight of the grief and horror of what she had seen and done and lost but it was different for muggleborns. What did it mean to have people who so fervently believed you didn’t deserve to exist in their world that they would kill to make it happen? She hadn’t been so close to Greta during the war and she did not know what seeing the Dark Mark would mean to her. Marlene had spent four years avoiding revisiting that time in her life. It had closed her off, really, to hearing the experiences of others. Tonight made avoidance difficult. 

“Greta?” She called out, stepping into the kitchen. “I’m home.” Marlene shrugged off her coat, pushed a stray dark hair out of her face. “I need a cup of tea. Do you want one?” She headed straight for the kettle, flicking it on before turning herself towards her friend, expression solemn. 

“How are you holding up?”

[mrlenemckinnons]

WHERE: The Potter Residence WHO: @motherdoe​ WHEN: Several hours after the Morsmorde Attack 

The last time Marlene had visited the Potters’ it had been to get ready for the Ministry Spring Gala. It had only been two weeks, but it couldn’t have seemed further away. Marlene arrived in the hall, as usual, this time breathless and scared. She had spent hours clearing the streets of Diagon Alley with her colleagues, searching for the culprit. It was late now, dark. The muggle streets were quiet and she felt both wired, wide awake and ready to collapse on the spot. Sleep, she knew, was far off still. Her manager had ordered her home and though she wanted to check in with Greta, Marlene had to see Lily and her godson safe and sound. 

She hadn’t seen James in the search, but she knew that as much as he loved his family, he’d have done his duty. Had he gotten home yet? Maybe Lily had been home, alone with Harry for hours. The thought made Marlene slightly frantic. At least she’d had something to keep her mind off the terror. At least she'd been surrounded by her colleagues. How painful must it have been for Lily? 

“Lily, it’s me, it’s Marlene!” She called into the house. During the war, they’d had the secret keeper charm to keep Lily and James and Harry safe, but it struck her suddenly how easy it would be to replicate her voice. They needed like, code words. “My favourite colour is red, I wanted to get Harry a frog for his birthday...” Marlene didn’t wait for Lily to call back before heading deeper into the house, towards the kitchen. Kitchens felt inherently safe, and Marlene knew from experience it was the coziest room in the Potter Manor. 

[mrlenemckinnons]

potterj​:

for: MARLENE. @mrlenemckinnons​​​ where: auror headquarters, the ministry of magic when: the day after the mosmordre hit the sky over diagon alley.

     James Potter drops The Daily Prophet on his desk with venomous glare, barely managing to contain his anger. It was only yesterday that the sky was lit up with the symbol that haunts his nightmares and the Ministry wasn’t taking it seriously enough. He had barely slept the night previous, having been sent home with a “Get some sleep, Potter.” He followed only half of that order and was carrying a subconscious exhaustion that was only held back by adrenaline. He knew that once the Pepper Up left his system, he would be sporting a rather intense headache.      James was a good Auror. An excellent one, even, but he had a reputation to act first and think later. It benefited him during duels and battles, but when it came to the more nit-picky parts of being in Magical Law Enforcement, “thinking” was considered an asset. And James Potter, currently going through mental loops to calm himself down from even seeing the mark, was far from that line of rationality.      It was for this reason that he was told to stand by. That, and the Head Auror was aware of James situation— every Auror was subject to regular assessments by a Mind Healer, and James had the misfortune of being marked from a war. When told they would be putting different Aurors on the investigation team, James had scoffed in offence and told them exactly how he felt about that situation. With barely any intel to satisfy his paranoia, James was feeling especially jittery and needed to do something.      He hears a familiar voice nearby and his gaze lands on Marlene, someone he just knows is feeling a similar sense of dread about the whole situation. Berating himself for not checking in sooner, he approaches the witch. “McKinnon,” he says, a look of concern covering his features. “Alright?”

—

There were several reasons Marlene was a hit witch and not an Auror. First had been her late arrival at the decision. She hadn’t chosen her career path until the beginning of her seventh year when her hand was forced by the ever intensifying war and her urge to do something. She had  never been a rigorous student, with the exception of History of Magic, not the most practical of subjects. And of course, she was lead by her instinct. She didn’t always take the time to think. Hit witches and wizards were encouraged to act and react, to respond quickly under pressure. Years of work both in the department of Magical Law Enforcement and in the Order had shaped her instincts into something dangerous, something sharp. She was better at following orders than she had been at fresh-faced eighteen, but she still had her fair share of impulsivity.

She hadn’t slept last night, even after being sent home. She’d done the rounds, checked on Lily and Harry, found Remus, supported the evacuation. She had gone to a muggle late bar, then home to stare out her window, empty of thoughts. Waiting, waiting to be allowed to do something, anything to help. Marlene had arrived early, muggle coffee in hand. She had written her incident report and moved onto the magical stimulants until she was ready to pace up and down the office, waiting for permission to go do something.

Something ended up being striding across the open plan offices to where the Aurors sat. She tried her best to play it cool, look professional, as she took in the room. Marlene’s eyes settled on James, who looked as antsy as she felt. She headed over to him and took a deep breath.

“Actually, I’m uh  —I’m not really. I need to get out of this office. I need to help.”

[primulaceas]

Rainer Maria Rilke, "The Prodigal Son." The Selected Poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke (translated by Stephen Mitchell)

[mrlenemckinnons]

justiceforbones​:

WHERE: Outside the Leaky Cauldron WHO: Amelia & OPEN

Amelia had been half way through her second glass of butterbeer when the commotion from outside caught her attention. At first it just sounded like people who’d had one too many in the name of celebrating, but the longer she listened, concern started to settle in. What she’d thought was simply drunken antics, quickly sounded like panic - a lot of panic - and it wasn’t long before she was on her feet and heading out in to Diagon Alley to see what was going on.

Barely two steps out of the Leaky Cauldon, Amelia was stopped dead in her tracks at the familiar sight of green in the evening sky. Heart sinking immediately, she could do nothing but stare up at the skull-and-serpent symbol, the words “Oh god…” falling from her lips. Just like that, four years of peace and focussing on moving forward were crashing down around her. 

—

Marlene had been on the street, searching for her friends, when the gasps, then cries had filled the air. It was hard to define or describe the collective trauma the war had imparted, the visceral reaction a simple symbol could conjure in a group. Some had apparated immediately, but most had not had that luxury  —accompanied by children, or too rattled to attempt the journey. Many had stood, transfixed in horror. Others had scrambled to move away, obviously thoughtless. Marlene did not have the luxury of freezing, or fleeing. She was too well trained. Her hand found her wand in mere moments, her mind searching through the options. The possibility of a stampede. The thought of whoever responsible escaping. And worst, the question that could not be ignored: why. Marlene knew better than most what that green skull meant. Death. Mutilated bodies. Muggles and muggleborns, Order members and law enforcement, alive or otherwise. 

“Please remain calm.” Marlene shouted across the crowd. “Remain where you are and wait for instructions. We’ll evacuate the area in an orderly fashion!” She spoke with all the authority she could muster, looking left and right for backup. What was the protocol? Had it changed since the war? As a hit-witch, she should be heading towards the danger, but someone had to do crowd control.

She caught sight of Amelia, exiting the Leaky Cauldron only feet away and felt relief wash over her. Someone better able to manage this than her. Marlene pushed in her direction and spoke, her voice low. “Amelia, thank Merlin. We need more bodies to control this crowd and get to the sign.”

[mrlenemckinnons]

miss-alectoxcarrow​:

who: open where: the streets of diagon alley

Finally, what Alecto had been waiting ages for had descended upon them.  Chaos.  She was reveling in it.  It didn’t really matter to her who had cast the Morsmordre, or what the intention behind it had been, she was too busy enjoying the tailspin it sent the Wizarding community into for such semantics.  It was almost sad, really, all this panic for a simple mark in the sky.  If she would have known how much fun she’d be having, she would have cast the damned thing herself.  As she watched the chaos unfold, someone stopped in front of her, out of breath.  Pulling herself away from the building wall she’d been leaning on, she smirked, unable to stop herself from antagonizing them.  “Where’s the fire?”

—

Marlene had left crowd control to others on the upper section of Diagon Alley and began the descent, quickly and carefully, towards the source of the sign. She did not sprint, which would only serve to panic the crowd or worse, cause her to miss something suspicious. Instead, she weaved deftly between people, all instinct and adreniline. Her gaze swept left - center - right over and over as she repeatedly identified herself. “Marlene McKinnon, hit witch coming through. Excuse me, Marlene McKinnon, hit witch.” That was when she caught sight of the figure in the shadows of the alleyway and slowed to a stop. Carrow. “Let’s not pretend you don’t know what’s happening, Carrow.” Marlene had had several almost-polite interactions with Alecto Carrow in recent years, but now was not the time for societal pretense. Among the order, suspicions about the Carrows ran rife. “What are you doing away from the crowd? As you can hear, we’re evacuating.” She gestured a hand towards the street, where magically amplified voices issued instructions to the festival-goers.