#dated. november 1978

[marlenethemenace]

when: Tuesday, 26 November, 1978 where: Hogwarts who: Marlene McKinnon & @gilbert-selwyn

Gilbert’s back. That was all Marlene could concentrate on throughout the day, no matter how interesting the lesson. He had said he hoped to be back by Tuesday, and as rumor would have it, he had managed to follow through. The minutes ticked by slowly, and when the bell finally rang, Marlene was out of the room her final lesson had been held in by the end of it. She traveled across the castle to the Transfiguration corridor, where she was almost certain Gilbert would be waiting for her.

Sure enough, when she opened the door of Gilbert’s favorite unused classroom--- Marlene’s heart skipped a frantic beat.

“Hey, stranger,” Marlene called as a bashful smile crept across her face. “I thought I might find you here.”

[marlenethemenace]

when: Wednesday, 27 November, 1978, roughly 4 pm where: Hogwarts Library, Restricted Section who: Marlene McKinnon & Sturgis Podmore

The precise brand of irritation Marlene felt was easily diagnosed. It was the restless sort, a projection with a nameless source. It was the same itchy, boiling feeling that had often caused a much younger Marlene to snap at her brothers for looking at her the wrong way, or breathing too loudly, before being appropriately scolded by her mother.

But today, Marlene’s brothers weren’t there to blame, nor her mother to keep her in line. There was only Marlene, her unresolved irritations, and Sturgis Podmore positioned directly in the line of fire.

“What?”

[marlenethemenace]

dead on arrival;

when: Monday, 23 November, 1978, 5:00 pm where: Gilbert’s mom’s bougee af house in France who: Marlene McKinnon & @gilbert-selwyn

Whether or not Marlene was even welcome was a haphazard guess at best, but that hadn’t stopped her from showing up at the funeral. As she walked through the crowd, side stepping nameless guests, her heart fluttered nervously inside her rib cage. No one here was familiar, and no one seemed to share the same empathetic grief that she did. A woman was dead, a child left without his mother, and yet all Marlene heard was snippets about lost potential, wastes of talent—anything but a reflection of what those who loved the deceased most would be missing every day for the rest of their lives.

Something about the general phraseology that pecked at her ears irritated Marlene. She waded her way through the crowd, her expression noticeably more irritable with every step she took. And then she saw Gilbert---the only thing in this crowd that could soften her heart. Her eyes widened, laden with concern and compassion, as she approached him. What she wouldn’t give to touch him---to hold him, even if it just meant his hands. Anything to help alleviate the grief he must have been experiencing by any fraction imaginable.

Truthfully, she was just glad to see he was still standing.

“Hi,” Marlene said softly. She reached out, her fingers only grazing the tip of Gil’s elbow as she questioned, in her own way, whether it was alright to reach out to him now. “How are you feeling? That’s probably--- That’s a stupid question, isn’t it?” Marlene laughed nervously. She rested her gaze on Gilbert, imploring him for help. Her hands found his, squeezing gently as she asked with fervor--- “What can I do to help?”

[fabiansacharmer]

when: Friday, 15 November, 1978, after midnight where: No. 6 Low Street who: Fabian Prewett & Gideon Prewett

“Should we do another?”

[marlenethemenace]

“Wait, wait, wait.” Marlene held up a finger as she swallowed the last of her shot, eyes narrowed in both concentration and determination. “I have to ask you something. Did you actually get an invitation, or have you crashed the party? I can’t decide how exclusive Clem was trying to make it.” 

[marlenethemenace]

when it rains;

when: Monday, 4 November, 1978, 9:00 am where: Ravenclaw Tower who: Marlene McKinnon & @gilbert-selwyn

Mondays were the most dismal days of the week by far. Marlene made herself at home in this school of thought as she glared at the empty plate in the middle of the Hufflepuff table where pancakes normally sat, freshly prepared and warm to the touch. She had gone through the same routine on Friday, of glaring at the food on the table, no matter how fresh or how old it was, as if it was to be blamed for her being out of bed so early in the morning.

As she waited for the house elves to get their shit together -- not that Marlene blamed them directly for her lack of pancakes, frustrating though it was -- she picked up a syrup stained copy of the Daily Prophet one of her peers had abandoned on the table. Her eyes scanned the front page once, twice, three times before her exhausted eyes finally caught the words that had pierced her heart through even just her peripherals.

Gilbert Selwyn’s mother was dead.

Pancakes long forgotten, and the sticky copy of the Prophet abandoned for the second time that morning, Marlene made her way to Ravenclaw Tower in record time. Luckily for her, a pair of flustered first years were on their way out when she arrived at the brass knocker, eliminating another obstacle between her and Gil. All that was left between them was the locked door to the Prefect suite---and whether or not Gilbert would actually choose to open the door.

Marlene knocked quietly. “Gil? It’s me.”