Curlicue
Another oneshot, done for the biweekly prompt (minor Ravenclaw ships) for @hprarepairnet.
Fic: "Curlicue" [FFN] [AO3]
Pairings/Characters: Marietta Edgecombe/Lee Jordan
Rating: light T
Words: ~1,130
Additional info: romance, Harry's era, 3rd person POV
Summary: "His curls and her curls are there, on the pillow, entwined, and Marietta can't comprehend that she's made it to here."
Each year, with the dawning of a new spring season, Lee Jordan shears his hair and lets it grow anew and free.
Marietta knows this because she stumbled upon this after school, shortly after the war. The first time she saw him working in the Weasley twins' shop, before the war, his hair had been long and drawn back, his dreadlocks tamed only by a fuchsia ribbon matching his work robes. But, after the war, Lee made a conscious effort to make a fresh start each spring.
"It keeps me from lingering on the old times," he told her after a few exchanges in the store while she dillydallied in buying WonderWitch products.
So now he embraces the tiny curls, letting them grow long at their own pace and guiding them into a matted shape as needed. They'll resemble his usual dreads when summer's more than half over. But for now…for now…
His curls and her curls are there, on the pillow, entwined, and Marietta can't comprehend that she's made it to here.
Marietta inhales and exhales, evenly, in the dark that's not quite dark in this room of his in a flat that's not quite far from the shop. Her red coils mix with his black twists, but their hair is on the periphery as she moves her eyes to his sleeping face. Her hand reaches out to stroke his cheek before she realizes it, but she catches herself in time and tucks that hand back under her chin. She's more than content to stare at Lee when she wakes first—which is often, she's come to learn the last two months—and she'd hate to ruin the moment.
"I don't mind you touching me while I'm asleep," he murmurs with eyelids still closed.
Moment ruined. Marietta frowns at him. "And if I said I do?"
"Then I'd respect that, of course. But you've got blanket consent when it comes to me, luv."
Marietta rolls her eyes and huffs. "There's no such thing as 'blanket consent,'" she corrects him.
He chuckles at her righteousness and opens his eyes. "What woke you?" he asks instead, because Lee knows when Marietta's right and rarely puts up an argument unless it's something trivial where he gets to be cheeky and he can coax her with some flirting.
"…"
"Mari."
She scrunches her nose up at the nickname. No one calls her nicknames. Not her family, not Cho. Only Lee. "…self-loathing," she admits.
His eyes widen. He's fully awake now. "What for?" Lee brushes a curl from her face and rests that warm hand on her shoulder.
She feels silly since Lee's warmth makes her feel secure. But, nevertheless: "My mind wandered. You know. To…to how my last few years played out." Having ducked her eyes, she gazes up at him once the truth's out there.
Lee's smile flattens to a non-expression. "Time has firmly put that in the past, Marietta. Everyone's grown."
The usual protest—because Lee Jordan has to accept all of Marietta Edgecombe if this, they, are going to work, he has to accept her brashness as well as her self-doubts—dies on her lips, because he's right. People grow up and move on. But sometimes memories haunt her, and it's not easy to get over everything, especially if that thing was a crappy personality and bullying. "It's not only the D.A. debacle," she mumbles.
Lee rubs his palm up and down her arm. He waits for her to continue.
"Just think if I had acted less like Cho's hanger-on and more like a friend." She pauses to chuckle at herself. "Who knows? Maybe you and I would've gone to the Yule Ball together."
"Ah, but that assumes I would've pulled my head out of my arse long enough to realize Angelina was going to end up with one of my best mates no matter how much I wished otherwise back then."
Marietta groans and pinches the back of Lee's hand. He winces, but she smirks a little and scoots closer to him under the sheets. His warmth does really make her feel secure and ready to confess all of her secrets. "…all right, so maybe it's still mostly the D.A. debacle," she says at last.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." The scars thankfully faded, surprisingly with the help of one of the kinder WonderWitch products, but Marietta's face itches for a moment, and she scratches across her nose as if "SNEAK" is going reappear the longer they speak of the past.
"Well, you know what I think."
And she does. Lee thinks this absolutely absurd thing that honestly perplexes her and astonishes her like the mindless flourishes he adds to his name when signing letters and other nonsense. And he tells her aloud, for the umpteenth time:
"I understand why you spoke up about Dumbledore's Army."
Marietta waits, holding her breath. His thoughts are like a beloved bedtime story, even if it is the wee morning hours, judging by the light edging in around his curtains.
"It took me a while of thinking on it, but I couldn't get as mad as the others when you told. Nor could I stay mad very long. But you spoke up out of fear for your friends—Cho—and you feared real legal ramifications for all of us as well as for your family, your mum." Lee pauses to press his nose to hers and share a wide grin that usually precedes a kiss. "You know, you're a good reminder for me to have fun but to have it responsibly."
Marietta huffs a second time.
Lee laughs and pushes on. "But, in those ways, you showed that you're loyal and a protector. I've always admired your foresight and how you analyzed the serious situations before you."
It's hard not to preen at that, and Marietta snuggles closer, tucking her head in so that Lee might peck her forehead.
He does as nonverbally requested. But his speech isn't quite over: "You know, though—that means when you agreed to that first date with me last year, I knew I stood a chance because you never do anything without thought."
Marietta snaps her head up, missing his chin by an inch because he figured she might be stunned by his confession. She's utterly flabbergasted, and she can't help the skipped beat of her heart as Lee grins and reminds her that yeah, he's real and, yeah, he honestly, quite literally said such things.
It's that extra flourish—not an embellishment, just something extra special that makes Lee so…Lee—that finally convinces Marietta to reconsider her evaluation of herself. It's that extra flourish that has her considering maybe, just maybe, she does deserve this dose of happiness…
She deserves Lee, and she deserves to be happy, too.
8D Okay, so. I have a whole freakin' life planned out for Marielee, which is seen in bits and pieces of other stories where they're a bkgd ship (bc Marielee is canon, hence Maydayverse, for me), but this was super sweet and fun to write! Not only is Lee his adorable self, but I like how they both analyzed her past. Tbh, a while back I saw a tumblr post (maybe a fandom confession or smthg?) about how unfair it was of Hermione to make the coins spelled to do smthg so nasty; the longer I dwelled on it, the more I felt for Marietta, and that's possly bc I was that kid who would remind a teacher about a quiz or smthg and, yes, I even told on a classmate when smthg dangerous occurred (altho that's a story for another time). Anyway, I feel great empathy for Marietta these days, and I think she deserved better. So it makes me v happy to ship her with Lee and continue to write these babies. I have other Marielees planned, esp some in the Maydayverse, so please keep an eye out for more content from me! c: Lastly, the title is a reference not only to their curls but also to Lee's handwritten flourishes; such flourishes can also be called curlicues! So know you know. XD
Thanks for reading, and feel free to leave an anon/unsigned review via the FFN link or comment via the AO3 link at the top of the post, especially if you enjoyed this!
~mew
