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a quiet kind of anger | edgar&marlene

The Order Castle

25 July, 1979

@marliism

Focusing on anger would never do him any good, Edgar knew that. And yet he still found a rage bubbling under the surface of his skin, scalding and red and aching to burst out. This war, this godforsaken war, had taken so much from him already and he was not ready to let it ravage him any longer. His family didn’t deserve this, his friends didn’t deserve this, and deep down he started to believe that he didn’t either. With the Order and Aversio split and scattered Edgar saw no chance of victory. Before Amelia got herself involved, he hadn’t wanted anything to do with the Order. Now, he had become one of their biggest advocates. That did not stop him, however, from being a realist. On their own they stood absolutely no chance against the Death Eaters. Maybe right now Aversio needed to use their castle for protection, but they all needed each other. Edgar just had to prove that to everybody else.

Somewhat surprisingly, Marlene McKinnon had been a massive help in doing so. The witch’s involvement in the precarious organisation hadn’t shocked him-the girl’s passionate and somewhat aggressive nature was well known-but he certainly didn’t expect her support. She seemed as eager as he was to unite their groups and fight to end this war for once and for all. Unfortunately that didn't stop the slight air of awkwardness between the two of them that it hung over them like a thin veil of smoke. Edgar had only spoken to Marlene a handful of times throughout their overlapping school years, but not because they didn’t get along. Admittedly, the witch intimidated him. The fact that she was very close friends with his current boyfriend only made the situation more uncomfortable. Determinedly, Edgar decided it was time for him to change that.

The gathering in the Order castle was the perfect chance to speak to her in a relaxing, non-business environment and Edgar wanted to make the most of it. “Hi Marlene.” He greeted, if slightly quietly, offering her a soft smile. “Is it okay if I sit here?” A mug of hot chocolate was clasped between his hands, warm and comforting, and he took a sip to calm his nerves. “I thought it would be nice to, you know, catch up?” Lack of confidence had Edgar phrasing the statement as more of a question.