"I heard you like me. Is that why the whole thing with the autograph and the lessons?"
A wave of heat spread from my forehead down to my subtly exposed neckline. At least it made me look like an idiot caught in a convoluted attempt at flirting, rather than an idiot coating her life in an ever-thickening layer of lies.
"Where did you hear that?" I mumbled to Sirius, burying my nails into my forearms. According to "Witch Weekly," this was supposed to prevent blushing. It worked for everyone, except me.
"Mandy told me... or maybe her name was Mindy? A Hufflepuff girl who's been trailing me for a while. So, she wasn't lying? I considered the possibility that she made it up just to start a conversation."
Who the heck is Mindy from Hufflepuff, and how does she know this?
"She wasn't lying," I said resignedly because what choice did I have? Since those disastrous Christmas holidays, when I told my mother I was finally acting like a normal daughter and had my first crush, I had to follow through.
Sirius didn't seem particularly surprised or offended. After rearranging the furniture in the empty Transfiguration classroom, he sat casually on one of the desks. Everything was set up for the Patronus practice he promised me in exchange for Clive Owens' autograph, but I couldn't imagine switching to spell training immediately after that introduction.
"Is this... okay with you?" I blurted, desperate to say something.
Black laughed nonchalantly, not at all fazed. He should teach me that, not just defense against the dark arts. It would be difficult for anything to throw him off balance.
"Listen, Marlene, however it sounds, this happens to me all the time. I'm used to it and don't mind, but I like clarity, so I asked."
"So, what now? You don't want to teach me anymore?"
"Not at all!" he immediately denied. "I really need Clive's autograph. Besides..."
He smiled unexpectedly, and I wished it stirred something in me—a string I discovered only recently, unfortunately not in the company of any promising young men.
"In fact, I appreciate your initiative," he finished, drawing his wand and positioning himself beside me as if nothing had happened. "Your creativity too."
He seamlessly transitioned to instructions on the spell, giving me no time to respond. Not that I felt the need to—I understood that I had just been given my chance, a green light to get to know Sirius better. And while it didn't excite me, it certainly boosted my confidence.
The first exercises with Sirius boosted my confidence also because the spell itself didn't go too badly. Unlike our defense professor, Black shared the difficulties he had initially, especially in choosing the right memory. It was refreshing—teachers should definitely mention their failures more often instead of acting like they were born with knowledge of the "Standard Book of Spells", at least at level six.
Riding the wave of success, I decided to go to the seventh-year girls' dormitory to finally tell Chloe to stop spreading rumors about me and Sirius. Though the holiday break had ended two weeks earlier, we still hadn't spent much time together. The start of the new year made the prospect of exams loom large, especially for fifth- and seventh-year students. I was starting to get a little nervous, even though I'd always had good grades because I genuinely enjoyed learning, earning points, and being praised by professors. They mentioned OWLs so many times that they had grown into some mythical showdown, something that even ten years at Hogwarts couldn't prepare us for. Lily, of course, was the most frantic. Though she tried hard to maintain the dignified calm expected of a prefect, she kept talking about the exams non-stop. Twice, I saw Remus stop her from heading straight to the library after patrol.
Now that I knew the redhead better, I understood. Coming from a Muggle family, she felt a powerful need to excel in everything. She was afraid that if she didn't know something, it would be attributed to her background. Mary had a similar experience, though to a lesser extent, maybe due to her family situation. Her father was the first wizard in the family, so it wasn't as surprising when his children were accepted into Hogwarts. Three years older than his sister, Maurice had graduated, but from what I could tell, they had always been close. Mary didn't have to fear that her closest relative would be pleased by her potential failure. That he'd say: "See, you dreamed up this wand-waving thing, and you can't even do that right."
I knew enough about Petunia Evans to imagine her saying something like that.
Observing Lily provoked reflection within me. Until now, I considered myself a tolerant person—there were no anti-Muggle sentiments in my home, though I had heard my mother speak with some skepticism about mixed marriages. Her opinion seemed reasonable, suggesting that the more such couples and their children there were, the greater the threat to the number of wizards. Some people didn't like Muggle-born students at Hogwarts, but I was starting to notice it more. I shared my observation with Dorcas after Lily and Mary dived into the library shelves for additional materials. She also came from a magical family, so maybe that's why she didn't overdo the studying as much as the other two. Besides, she always had an opinion on every topic, which still irritated me a bit but could be useful. After all, half a year earlier, I enchanted Florence in the forest, quoting the anti-bra debates of my dorm mate.
"This problem has always existed," replied Meadowes. "You just never had any interest in noticing it. You used to hang out only with girls who no one would call "mudblood". Even if you saw or heard something, you probably quickly went back to your own business."
I grumbled, though I admitted she had a point, "In your interpretation, I sound like a blind egotist."
"You said it, Marlene."
"Do you believe that to be the case?"
She sighed lightly, but there was no irony in her eyes, which I remembered from hundreds of arguments about the remains of my powder in the sink.
"No, I think you're just privileged and therefore don't automatically see certain things. You have to learn it. If you've already noticed that Muggle-borns have it much harder at school than you and it started to bother you, you've made the first step."
"Did you notice it earlier because you've been friends with Lily and Mary from the start? You're from a wizarding family, you're just like me."
"Not at all, Marlene," she replied with a slight smile, but her dark eyes glowed sadly. "I'm a black girl, and I know well what it feels like to stand out from the rest. Maybe that's why I quickly got close to the girls, because I was also often mocked or criticized for something I had no control over. Or, even worse, made into some sort of curiosity. Like that jerk, Belby, not far off. I got detention because of him with Sprout."
She snorted loudly, nodding toward the Ravenclaw sitting nearby. I remembered how once, during a joint Herbology lesson, she unexpectedly slapped him in the face, startling our usually serene teacher, my favorite. I thought back then that Dorcas was acting crazy, though I hadn't seen the whole situation, busy with repotting mandrakes.
"You hit him because he said something racist?"I asked. Lily and Mary were still missing, so we could skip studying for a few more moments.
"Yes, though he probably still hasn't grasped that. He asked me to go to Hogsmeade with him. When I refused, he was very surprised and said I should be pleased because not everyone likes black girls. He generally finds exotic looks exciting and has always wanted to see what it's like to date a girl like me."
If I had heard Belby say that live, it might not have felt so disgusting. In Dorcas's retelling, those words sounded awful, and I thought that in her place, I wouldn't have been able to hold back either.
"Remember last year when we argued about Megan?" she asked suddenly.
"Hard to forget," I muttered, but I knew where she was heading. Megan was a Muggle-born Ravenclaw from our year. She excelled in Potions, the equivalent of Lily in their house. One time, Slughorn praised her exceptionally well-crafted Essence of Euphoria, saying that it was rare to find such talent in non-magical families and that she should be very proud. He rambled for a good ten minutes, as he did, until the end of the lesson. When it finally ended, Megan ran out of the class, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.
I was working with Mary at the same cauldron, and Dorcas and Lily were at the station next to us. I remarked that Megan was overreacting since she was praised, and Meadowes pounced on me, calling me an insensitive idiot.
"It was pretty much the same as with me and Belby. Except Slughorn put it more politely because he's not a jerk, just lacks empathy."
"He didn't mean to upset Megan, quite the opposite," I protested, as I liked the professor and felt I was right about this. "He just didn't realize how it sounded. After all, he's not Muggle-born, he doesn't understand..."
"He should, that's the role of a teacher," Dorcas interrupted firmly. "But yes, I know, he didn't mean any harm. He's from a different generation. No one explained to him that Muggle-born kids aren't good at magic despite everything, just because they work hard. For example, you don't get good grades in Potions because you're a girl, you simply like the subject. Although Slughorn probably wouldn't suggest that."
"I'd be furious if he did," I admitted. "Remember that Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we had in our third year? He used to say at the beginning that girls should focus on defensive spells because they have no chance of being good at offensive magic."
"He was a complete idiot." Dorcas waved her hand, wrinkling her nose in displeasure. "I think he fell off a broom as a kid, multiple times. Onto concrete, which then stayed in his brain permanently. Anyway, now you know why I was mad at you then. Those types of comments are deemed unnecessary, sexist, and illogical. You need to react to them."
I chuckled, recalling how, in her third year, Dorcas argued with the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, earning herself detentions. Just a few, but only because eventually, the situation caught McGonagall's attention. Our head of house, after learning the whole story, probably decided to curb her colleague's sexist tendencies. She, of all people, best demonstrated that women could excel in magic. Only she and the teacher knew exactly what she said to him, but after her involvement, he no longer made inappropriate remarks.
From her position as Deputy Headmistress, she had the right to simply order him to stop. But who knows, maybe she explained how it looked from our perspective? Maybe he understood, even a little?
"You know," I said spontaneously, driven by this thought, "I would have handled it all much sooner if, after Potions, you had explained it like you just did instead of yelling at me."
Dorcas only laughed mirthlessly. Checking the time, I found out that dinner was approaching, so I started packing my books and parchments into my bag. I was just rolling up the last one when I smelled orange and cinnamon, followed by a sudden movement as Meadowes tapped my earring, a long, homemade one crafted from laminated acacia flowers.
"I know," she replied quietly. "Since then, we've both learned a lot, haven't we?"
I nodded and for a moment, just watched her thoughtful profile as she examined the petals in my earring against the light.
I recalled that conversation several times, especially when I sat with Sirius in the dormitory with Poppy and the rest. I found them relaxing with biscuits and fashion magazines—a stark contrast to our textbook-laden dorm. While the girls casually chatted about the latest school events, I repaired one of those earrings, noticing a loose loop connecting the top flower to the rest. I wasn't sure how to broach the subject of Chloe's loose tongue.
"Marlene." I jumped at her voice. "Are you with us?"
"Yes," I muttered absently, finally securing the clasp.
"I was asking what you think of Alice's new boyfriend.You know him from the Herbology Club, right?"
"I didn't even know she was seeing someone," I admitted honestly. "Who is it? Several boys attend the club."
"Frank, from her year," Chloe snorted. "Where's your head, Marlene? He's been circling around her for months."
Frank Longbottom was a year older, had a nice smile, and liked to talk to me about cactus propagation. For a moment, I even considered him a potential crush, but my mom knew his family too well, which could get awkward. Plus, he wanted to become an auror, which she considered a risky job.
"If it's him, Alice has made a good choice." I finally answered BB's questioning look. "He's very nice and polite."
Chloe and Poppy exchanged glances and giggled.
"He's also quite handsome," McMillan added gently. "But it's understandable you didn't notice, or the new couple in Gryffindor, since you started dating Sirius."
"You've definitely overshadowed Alice's news because everyone in the tower is talking about you two," Amrita added unexpectedly, lifting her head from the Prophet. "If it reached even me, it means something. By the way, that pretend-lesson move was clever. Seemed trivial, but it worked."
For the second time that day, I felt a blush spreading across my face. This time, it wasn't from embarrassment, but from that comment.
"Speaking of which," I gathered all my Gryffindor courage. "I heard what you told Alice about me and Sirius, Chloe. I'd prefer if you didn't do that. The information was not planned to spread so widely.
"What are you talking about, Marlene!" BB exclaimed, and for a moment, I was sure she would deny it. I wanted her to; I was even ready to believe her. But she said nothing of the sort.
"You're being a bit unfair," Poppy interrupted Chloe's indignant gasp with a gesture. "She meant well. Alice is friends with Bindy from Hufflepuff, everyone knows that. Bindy has been after Sirius since last year. Now that she knows from Alice, she'll back off. She stands no chance against you."
"Maybe," I muttered, unconvinced. "But before backing off, she ran straight to him to spill everything."
"That's even better!" Chloe beamed, huffing like a kitten, when I looked at her in surprise. Knowing you, it would have taken you a long time to decide what to say to him. Thanks to Bindy, that's off your plate."
"She said her name was Mindy," I noted, as if it changed something.
"Exactly, dear," Poppy said, patting my hand. "Besides you, no one else matters to him, it's clear. He doesn't even remember their names!"
Amrita, having closed her newspaper, interrupted by suggesting a game of magical pick-up sticks, which effectively diverted the girls' attention from me for a while. I joined the game but didn't enjoy it much, not only because I was the worst player that day. At one point, the red stick I clumsily knocked over the stack flew up and hit me square in the forehead.
"YOU'RE BLIND AS A MOLE!" it shouted before rejoining the rest of the sticks.
I'm afraid it had a point.
🌿
Several days after that evening, when we overdid it with the raspberry liqueur in the dormitory, my and Dorcas' beds still refused to separate, despite our efforts.
"It's possible I cast a Permanent Sticking Charm," Lily finally admitted with guilt. "Of course, accidentally! I'll undo it, really, girls; I just need a moment to find the counterspell."
I nudged my immovable bed with my foot and hissed in pain. Did I mind sleeping close to Dorcas? Surprisingly, not really. Did I want to argue just for fun?
Of course, I did.
"You've already wasted a lot of time on this, and we need to prepare for the Transfiguration test. Maybe we should just ask McGonagall to fix it?"
"And what will we tell her, Marlene?" Lily asked, dramatically clasping her hands. "That I cast a spell under the influence of alcohol you smuggled into the school?"
"You know," Dorcas giggled, falling carelessly onto her mattress. "It's not an easy spell to cast, she should be pleased. You need a natural talent to cast it while barely holding a wand..."
"I wasn't THAT drunk," Lily huffed, feeling around the bed's connection, though her eyes strayed longingly towards the Transfiguration textbook. "I'll handle it. You can survive a few more nights, right?"
"Yes, provided SOMEONE removes their muddy clothes from my side," I snapped, pointing at the Quidditch robe Dorcas had tossed after practice.
"Those clothes are fighting for the Cup for our house," Dorcas replied, smiling broadly. "You could show some respect. But fine, will do, as long as SOMEONE stops shooting hand cream at my pillow."
"That cream..." I began, aiming for a sarcastic tone, but lost the idea. "You could use it too!"
"Maybe, but it reeks of herbs."
"It's thyme with lemon grass. The same extract I use in throat syrup, and you'll ask for it, Dorcas. After a few winter practices."
"No chance," she replied with familiar, annoying confidence. "I have great immunity. I'm not as delicate as you."
I threw a pillow at her because, really. I noticed Mary had returned to the dormitory and was on her bed with Lily, engrossed in "Intermediate Transfiguration."
"Watch out," Dorcas hissed. "You'll hit Stanley!"
I froze, staring at her hand, which was covering her sweater pocket. In the past, Meadowes had already brought various creatures to the dormitory. Thankfully, it was usually something harmless, like her own owl ("because it was too cold in the owlery") or an iguana with a sore leg, which Professor Kettleburn had allowed his favorite student to take care of on her own. As long as Dorcas didn't show up with, say, an Acromantula, I could tolerate it, though admittedly I hadn't had to sleep just a few centimeters away from her and her guests until now.
"Who is Stanley?" I asked, seeking support from the other girls, but none of them paid me any attention.
"Fine, you've woken him up anyway," Dorcas grumbled, but I could see she really wanted to show off. She slipped her hand into her sweater pocket and pulled out a tiny, curled-up creature with short legs and dark brown fur. The little animal lifted its head, its beady eyes darting around, before it sneezed adorably, sniffing the cooler dormitory air.
"MERLIN, WHAT A CUTIE!" I sat on my bed, gazing at Stanley with a tenderness that touched me deeply. I had never had a pet of my own, apart from the family owl, but I got him when he was already an adult. Baby creatures were a whole different story.
"Quiet," hissed Dorcas. "It's a jarvey. Hagrid found an injured, pregnant female and let me take care of one of her babies. The mother only survived a few days after giving birth, unfortunately... but they grow quickly. I'll only need to feed him for three weeks."
I sniffed, as such stories always made me terribly sad. Dorcas glanced at me with amusement.
"Don't worry, they're very independent creatures. Besides, he'll stop being so endearing once he starts talking. Jarveys begin to chatter around the fifteenth to twentieth day of life..."
"I know what a jarvey is," I interrupted, rolling my eyes. I attend Care of Magical Creatures lessons as well. I remember Professor Kettleburn saying they chatter nonstop, and they're not very polite. So you and Stanley should get along perfectly."
"He'll be useful when I get tired of responding to your jabs," she snapped back, meanwhile making a little nest for her new favorite on her pillow.
"That gives you an unfair advantage. I need something to defend myself from your jabs too."
"You don't need a jarvey for that if you're dating Sirius." Dorcas looked at me, the yellow light of the lamp flickering in her dark irises. "Assuming he can stand you for more than one date..."
"He'll see me again, Dorcas."
"I know him better, and I know how quickly he gets bored. That guy has a hundred ideas a day, Marlene, and he has to dive into each one immediately. Besides, we both know you'll quickly master that Patronus charm, and I doubt you plan to play dumb just to spend more time with him."
Well, part of Dorcas's statement was more than accurate. However, I had an advantage she didn't know about—Sirius stood to gain something concrete from our meetings. Of course, I still needed to win him over, but thanks to Clive Connor's autograph, my starting position was significantly better.
"I'll bet you," Dorcas's voice interrupted my thoughts, "that he won't last through a second lesson."
"What's the bet?"
Judging by her expression, she didn't expect me to take the bait. She thought for a moment, stroking Stanley's fur with her index finger, and finally, I saw a cunning half-smile appear at the corner of her full lips.
"If I win, you'll come to practice with me. I like to fly solo sometimes to practice unexpected situations, and I usually enchant the Quaffle... But practicing with a real person is different."
"Are you crazy?" I laughed quite genuinely, as such a proposition was entirely unexpected. "I don't play Quidditch; I probably won't throw the ball right even once."
"That's exactly the point; I need to be ready for the worst passes. You haven't forgotten how to fly, have you?"
Of course not. I could fly, and quite well, too. Where I lived, that form of travel was completely normal because there were few Muggles around. If I wanted to get somewhere without my parents' help, the easiest way was a broom or walking. Dorcas couldn't know this, and for a moment, I relished the thought of how surprised she would be when practice actually happened. Then I remembered that, first of all, I wouldn't lose the bet. And secondly, I had no desire to fly in January amidst sleet or other foul weather.
Not at all.
"Deal," I said firmly. "If I win, you'll help me gather silver sage. It is necessary to do it by hand, leaf by leaf, and in special gloves. Then you carefully toss them into boiling water and evaporate it to get the distillate. Every drop is precious, so I collect them one by one into a test tube.
I continued, watching with satisfaction as a hint of fear crossed Dorcas's face.
"Fine," she decided. "I'll risk it, but you better have something to revive me if I faint from boredom."
"So you admit there's a chance you'll lose?"
Stanley lifted his head again as she shook her head, looking at her reproachfully. Laughing, I glanced at Mary's bed so she and Lily could witness our bet, but they weren't there.
"I didn't even notice when they left," I said to Dorcas, glancing at Lily's bed, which was also empty.
"I know, neither did I."
I looked at her, and she looked at me, and for some reason, we both quickly turned away. Going to sleep shortly afterward, I pondered two things intensely. The first was where to lie down so I wouldn't accidentally hurt Stanley during the night.
And the second was whether those joined beds really didn't bother me, and whether my perception of the whole situation was influenced by what Meadowes had said a few evenings earlier, after the "Mushroom Picking" game.
I turned towards her bed because I suddenly felt like asking something or clarifying something—though I didn't know exactly what. But Dorcas was already asleep, her arm protectively wrapped around the nest she had made for the jarvey.