#i left one on the inside of the door of a stall in a macdonalds bathroom once

[theshittiesttriangle]

you ever make occult looking graffiti on a wall using the leftover charcoal and ash from someone elses fire in a playground

i did that today

i like using my tag in places cause i hope it spooks some people out

[prongsno]

It’s the Unmistakable (1/2)

Lily finds that being stuck in a bathroom at a party isn't always a bad thing. Read on AO3, 6581 words

There’s someone puking when Lily runs into the toilets. She’s desperately trying not to cry, her hands are shaking as she kicks open one of the stalls. The toilet lid is already down, and she wills herself not to think about what’s most likely underneath the seat as she plops onto it and rests her head in her hands.

The doors open again, supposedly a friend of the girl whose face is currently in one of the sinks. There’s a rather sympathetic sigh, followed shortly by a ‘ oh Miranda ’. A retch, giggles, the sound of them taking a selfie and then there’s the scuffle of high heels against the marble flooring.

The two of them leave, the doors open and the deafening sound of the bass, mixed with drunken screams and shouts, set Lily’s teeth on edge. The doors close and there’s silence once more, apart from the heavy buzz of the broken air conditioning and the dull echo of the party from behind the toilet’s thin walls.

Lily hates crying. But she can’t help it at a time like this, all she wants is to get out of this hell-hole.

She picks out her phone from her bag and calls her number one on speed dial, but it’s not Mary MacDonald who answers.

“Mary’s phone. James speaking.”

“You’re not Mary,” is the first thing Lily says with a sniffle. She lifts her legs to her chest, leans back against the wall and closes her eyes.

“Nope, thank God. She’s currently um… er, occupied - shall we say - with my flatmate. Did you need her?”

Lily hiccups and that seems to release an avalanche of emotions all at once. She lets out a laugh, and after five seconds there are tears running down her cheeks.

“Wait are you - are you crying?” The poor stranger named James sounds very shocked and concerned.

She breaks off some toilet paper and blows her nose. “No.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

 She can hear the smile in his voice, the soft like honey kind of tone that makes you feel all warm, happy and fuzzy inside. She even smiles herself, forgetting her huge mess even if it’s only for a few seconds. His voice is the nicest voice she’s heard all day.

He shuffles, maybe moves the phone closer to his ear because there’s a rustling sound, and when he breathes out it sounds like he’s right next to her.

She can’t help the little goosebumps that appear on her arms, the shiver that goes up her spine and the little butterflies that annoyingly flutter about all the way from her toes to her fingertips.

“Are you okay?”

What an odd question, especially after the night she’s had. She’s about to answer, the words and what on earth she’s going to say still jumbling about in her head, when he curses and speaks again.

“I’m sorry, that was really-” Another curse word, then silence. “Of course you’re not.” He lets out a sigh. “Er, Mary and Sirius have been gone for - God knows how long. But if you just give me a sec I’ll hand you over right now to her. I’ll bloody break down Sirius’ door if I have to.”

That’s what he seems to do, a few minutes later. There’s a knock, then his voice shouting ‘I’m coming in’ before a door kicks open. A shriek, two shrieks. Three shrieks, James screaming about ‘INDECENCY’ and ‘YOU DIDN’T EVEN LOCK THE DOOR’ and, lastly, ‘I’M LITERALLY A DOOR AWAY AND YOU’RE DOING THAT ’.

“Is that my phone?” Lily hears Mary ask, after the whole commotion has died down. Mary’s still laughing slightly as she takes the phone.

“It said ‘Flower’ as the caller ID.” James says. His voice rings out, still soft, still special and getting under her skin. “She’s crying.” She can’t help but smile at the tone of his voice, it’s remarkable how soothing it is listening to him.

“Lils, are you okay? What happened?”

At the sound of her friend’s voice, Lily can’t help but start crying again. “Er, can you - can you come and pick me up? Please.”

“Of course- ”

“Martin and I broke up.”

She’s seeing stars, her head hurts and her tongue is burning in her throat. She closes her eyes again and tries to count calmly to ten.

“Oh Lily, I’m sorry… but were you two even going out properly?”

“Well we definitely aren’t now, I saw him making out with Stacey.”

“He didn’t-”

“Yeah and so I mean - he was the one who brought me to this damned party and I thought he really liked me-”

“God, what a dick-”

“And I was kind of spying on them and twisted my ankle and fell into the pool-”

She feels so… stupid , crying about it. But it was really embarrassing and the entire party witnessed her humiliating ordeal. All she wants right now is her best friend.

“Say no more,” Mary says, slamming her free hand onto what must be a table because there’s a big SMACK sound. “We’re coming, right now - okay?”

“I’ll get a spare jacket-” There’s a scrape of a chair, someone running and a door closing with a bang.

Lily sniffs again and pulls at more tissue, now dabbing at her eyes and nose. “We?”

Mary lets out a shaky breath, and Lily can almost see the little hand-movement her best friend does when she’s nervous, twisting a lock of hair around her fingers and biting on her bottom lip.

“I’m so sorry Lils... but I’m at Sirius’s, and he only has that motorbike. James is the only one with a car right now-”

“Oh,” She blows her nose and dabs at her eyes again.

Mascara drips onto the tissue and, from what she can gather by squinting at the small reflection of herself in the toilet dispenser, she has mascara-coloured tear streaks running all down her face. “They don’t mind coming?”

“On the contrary, Lily- ” Sirius’s voice shouts down the phone. “ James and I would love to give that Martin guy a piece of our mind.”

“He’s already left.”

“Then we’ll happily hunt him down and-” Sirius begins.

“Or - we’ll be so quiet you won’t even notice we’re there,” James cuts in. The butterflies are back. “We’ll give you and Mary time to talk and we won’t be in your way - at all.”

His entire being is like sunshine; sunshine that breaks out from the clouds just after it’s been dull and rainy. The sky gets that little bit brighter, you feel your heart being uplifted and you want to just stare and wait for the sun to come back because it feels like home.

“I don’t mind at all-”

“Lily,” Mary says. There’s a symphony of car doors slamming together in unison, the rustle of engine and then the crackle of the radio tuning in. “We’re in the car, okay? I’ll stay on the whole time and let you know when we’re there.”

“Okay,”

“It’s like a twenty minute drive, but James says he doesn’t mind getting a speeding ticket. We’ll be there in fifteen minutes, ish.”

“Good, because I really need to get out of these clothes. I stink of wee.”

There’s a few seconds pause, and then Mary whispers, as politely as she can. “You have urine on you?”

Lily regrets it instantly. “It’s not mine!”

“Oh my God - Lily, that doesn’t make it sound any better.” Mary lets out a sigh , then laughs.

“Don’t laugh-”

“I’m sorry, Lils but that’s both hilarious and gross. Is it okay if I give James your address too? Or do you want to come back with us.”

All she can think about is getting away. But, for some reason, James’s voice echoes back into her mind. The softness, the homely, happy feeling. “I really don’t want to be alone right now. Can you ask if it’s okay if I-”

Lily can hear the smile in Mary’s voice. “James says you’re most welcome to stay. And that he was going to kick Sirius and I out if we left you alone.”

The door opens, and the roar of the party sinks into the room. There’s small footsteps, and the door shuts.

“Lily?” Mary calls out a little hesitantly.

She attempts to kick at her door, but her legs are too short and so she ends up falling off the toilet, smashing onto the floor on her bottom and practically inhaling a dirty piece of used tissue.

“Here,” she grumbles, waving her hand under the half open door. She doesn’t even have the energy to stand right now.

“James and Sirius are outside,” Mary says with a small sigh as she helps Lily stand to her feet. “Can you manage?”

“If I walk really, really slowly.”

Mary’s slightly smaller than her, but manages to wrap her arms around Lily’s shoulders and assists her to the mirror.

“I look horrific.” Lily says with a grimace, patting her cheeks in horror when she sees her reflection.

“You look like you’ve had fifty shots, Lils.” For a second Mary looks like one of those teachers who have just marked your homework and have that disappointed look on their face. Then her expression softens, the hand on her hip falls and she just looks heartbroken at the state of her best friend.

“Come here.” Mary pulls Lily onto the side cabinet, hoisting her up and shuffles in between her legs. She grabs tissues and wets them slightly under the hot tap before grabbing Lily’s face with her spare hand.

“You’re really pretty Mary,”

“I know. Now be still.”

“That kinda hurts, y’know.”

Mary’s scrunches up her face in concentration. “Do you want to look like a panda? Hold still, I’m almost done.”

Two minutes later Lily wobbles out of the toilets, hanging onto Mary like a monkey. Sirius is waiting outside, leaning on the wall all modelesque in his timberland boots and double denim attire. He looks up, gives Lily a once over and then grins.

“Will you be alright to the car?” he asks.

“Crystal clear,” she says with a nod. “But I’m just going to-” She leans onto the wall, kicks off her shoes and then, sighing happily, mutters out “that’s better”.

Sirius lets out a laugh, and wafts the air around him slightly with his hand. “Evans,” he says with a grin. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you quite so drunk.”

“Neither have I,” Mary says with a slight roll of her eyes. “You just had to go and get absolutely wasted at the party I wasn’t going to, didn’t you?”

Lily’s too busy nodding to notice when they finally set off walking, but she soon realises when she’s tripping over Mary’s feet and tumbling to the floor like jelly.

“I mean - who has their party at an event hall? We’re not in high school anymore!”

Mary and Sirius try their hardest not to laugh, but when Lily starts snorting the three of them are a giddy mess. It takes an awful amount of effort before they eventually exit the front door and walk down the entrance gardens.

She can hear the car before she sees it; the roar of a very, very old engine and Don’t Worry Baby by The Beach Boys practically oozing out of old, worn speakers.

She’s lost in the music of the song, her mind fuzzy and heavy. She hears the sound of car doors opening, a hand on her shoulder guiding her into the car, the fastening of seat belts, car doors closing.

“We ready to go?” asks the voice of someone.

A soft voice. Kind, sweet and delicate, like honey she has on toast in the mornings. She’s heard it before, she’s sure of it. She can’t remember where, but it’s a nice voice.

It’s his voice. Despite the fuzziness in her eyes, she turns straight to it like a moth to a flame. Like trying to find light in a room of darkness. But then she sees it. He’s staring at her from the rear-view mirror.

Bright hazel eyes glance her way, hair that sticks up like candy floss gone wrong, like a cloud that’s turned inside out. It’s wild - and yet it’s so, so unequivocally him . It’s him, it’s what makes him him . And Lily wouldn’t have it any other way.

He gives her a small smile and then the car sets off.

“Do you want some water?” Mary asks, she reaches over to turn down Lily’s window and is already passing her a bottle of water before even getting an answer.

The water’s gone in half a second. “I’m never drinking again,” she says after glugging it down.

“Not without me, anyhow.” Sirius laughs, turning slightly from his seat in the front to give her a wink. Then he gives her a salute and tosses her a small bundle that falls into her lap.

“Crackers,” Mary says, helping her unfold the beeswax wraps (that Sirius was most adamant about buying, claiming that if he wanted to save the world he might as well start somewhere) to produce three delicious Jacob’s crackers.

Once the crackers are finished, and now she’s got a bit of food and non alcoholic drink in her system, the events of the night slowly begin to sink in.

“I’m never dating again,” her voice is barely a whisper, face covered with her fingers as she tries to hide from view.

Mary lets out a scoff. “Not everyone is like that jerk. You never know, maybe the right one was in front of you all along.”

A generic saying, full of cliche.

And yet, as she reaches out her hand to itch the top of her head, her eyes stray forward.

Those hazel eyes meet hers once more, and James must have not expected it to happen in the least, because his beautiful, bright eyes widen, his luscious cheeks redden and he mutters out a swear word as he swerves the car, running through a red light.

“Nice one, mate.”

She can still see his red cheeks from the mirror, the way his jaw clenches as he gives Sirius a glare. “Shut up, I didn’t even notice it. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Who am I? Your driving instructor?”

“The backseat driver.”

“Very funny.”

She must have dozed off at some point, no doubt drooling on Mary’s shoulder, because someone starts shaking her shoulder, calling out her name.  She wakes instantly, eyes opening to find James’s face directly in front of her.

“Crap, sorry.” He pulls back, left hand shooting up to mess with his hair. “You’re a really deep sleeper.”

He’s got a jacket in his right hand, and he awkwardly shoves it towards her. When she takes it, mumbling a timid and sleepy thank you, his hands goes straight into his jean pockets and he looks incredibly unsure of what on earth he’s supposed to do now.

He rocks up and down on his toes for a second before speaking. “Mary’s just gone to get you some clothes,” he says, jerking his hand to the set of small but smart looking apartments in front of them. “She’s been here so much lately she’s practically moved in.”

“She’s really happy with Sirius.”

Her seat belt is already unbuckled, so she swings her legs and wobbles out of the car as smoothly as she can. James has to reach out and balance her, hands holding onto her elbows like she’s a grandma and he’s her walking stick (which, to be honest, she wouldn’t mind him being).

“I’m fine,” she says, refusing to meet his eyes.

All he does is smile as he locks the car, and then they walk side by side towards the flat. His keys jingle in his hand and when he opens the door they find Mary and Sirius acting very suspicious near the front door.

Sirius’s neck is tinged pink, and Mary shoves his hand away from hers.

Their backs straighten and Mary pulls an arm behind her back. She’s speaking in an instant, like she’s been practicing the line for years.

“I don’t have anything you could wear for bed, Lils,” she says, looking incredibly sad. “Sorry. Maybe, um, James has something? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”

At this, Sirius and Mary turn instantaneously to James. “Right, James?”

“Uh, I probably do?” He says with a slight shrug as he kicks off his shoes, the scruffiest pair of converse she’s ever seen.

“Oh,” Lily clears her throat, and puts down her shoes right next to his. They’re a little crooked, not straight enough, so she bends down to straighten them properly. “It’s okay,” she says to the linen carpeted floor.

“No it’s okay. It’s fine. I think I have something,” she hears him say, he’s already speeding off through one of the doors down the hallway.

When he’s gone Lily lets out a huff and gives Mary a glare. “I can just sleep in this,” she hisses, and tries to stand up, but in the end tumbles back to the floor and has to pull herself up with the help of the wall and shoe rack.

Mary tuts as she watches, and folds her arms against her chest. “Didn’t you say you got urine all over you?” she asks rather smugly, giving Lily a glare that is eagerly returned.

Sirius watches them both with a grin and, after a few seconds, places his hands on Mary’s shoulders and whispers something in her ear. There’s a hint of a grin on her face, that disappears almost as quickly as it comes. She shoots Sirius a nod and he places the softest of kisses on her hand before dropping it.

“We can put your clothes in the wash, Lils.” Sirius raises his voice, just as James emerges from his room with an old football shirt.

“This is the only thing I could find,” he says with a blush, passing it to her with shaky hands. “Sorry.”

The shirt is soft in her hands and there’s a sweet, clean and fresh scent of lemons and peony blossom that swirls around the air, making her dizzy.

“That’s your lucky number,” Sirius raises an eyebrow, eyes drawn in amazement and shock at the number seven on the red and gold shirt.

“It wasn’t that lucky,” James makes a shrug.

“You got scouted-”

James lets out a wild laugh, and scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “That was just luck-” He gives Sirius a glare, a ‘ shut up and stop talking or so help me ’ glare.

“Didn’t you just say there wasn’t any luck?” Sirius grins, giving his now deeply blushing friend a little wink.

“Shut up,” James says with a scowl.

And, just like that, an awkward silence fills the air. Lily can’t look up, because every time she does her eyes are drawn to James like they’re both magnets and he’s pulling her in.

Mary drums her fingers against the wall and bounces on her tiptoes for a few moments. “Tea?”

Everyone murmurs out a hasty ‘yes’ and Mary pushes Lily towards the bathroom.

“I love you and all,” she says as she pushes, “but you stink like a rat’s arse right now.”

James clears his throat, his cough sounding an awful lot like a laugh. “I’ll just go and pop the kettle on.”

“And I’ll just go and,” Sirius points towards the kitchen, twirls his fingers around in the air and scrunches up his lips. “And, uh, clean some cups.”

He runs out of the room and shuts the kitchen door behind him with a click.

“Do I really stink that much?” Lily’s face is still hot, and she places her hands on her cheeks and bangs her head against the wall once then another two times.

James thinks she smells like a rat’s arse, isn’t that great?

All Mary does is watch, looking very amused and happy with herself from the opposite side of the wall. “You know,” she says with a drawl, pretending to suddenly look at her nails in fascination, “this all could have happened weeks ago.”

“What?”

Mary grins and points towards the kitchen. “You know, James Potter staring at you with loving eyes. You getting butterflies from his dashing smile.” She even has the cheek to flutter her eyes, bringing one hand to fan at her face whilst the other rests against her heart.

“There are no butterflies. And definitely no lovey eyes.”

Mary’s smile is so wide, it looks like her face is going to erupt. “You are such a bad liar, you do know that right?” She laughs and opens the door to the bathroom, turns on the light and leans against the wall.

“There’s clean towels in the cupboard, and you can use my stuff if you want.” Then, she lowers her voice to a whisper. “And, just so you know, remember that time I said Sirius had a friend who was obsessed with Doctor Who?”

“Yeah?”

Mary stares at her, rolls her eyes and then makes an exaggerated circle in the air and shoves her arms towards the closed kitchen door.

“Wait - that was James?” Lily blinks.

“Yes . You moron.”

“But you said he was a nerd-”

“He knows morse code ,” Mary says. “Fluently, might I add. He learnt it for fun. ”

“No, I distinctly remember you saying that if he were cake he would be the victoria sponge because you said, and I quote, he had the sweetness of strawberries but not enough tart and cream. What the hell does that even mean?”

“I stand by that-”

Lily lets out a groan. “What did you expect me to say? I thought you were trying to pair me up with a greasy, pokemon collecting nerd who thinks he’s a vampire.”

“But I knew victoria sponge is your favourite,” Mary gasps, appalled. “I also said he did as many sports as he has fingers.” As she says this she thrusts her two hands in Lily’s face, wiggling her fingers frantically. “I said he was nerd, a sports nerd who knows all the lines of Doctor Who. I also said you two would really hit it off. I said that he would be good for you.”

“I thought you were joking.”

Mary throws her hands in the air. “Why would I do that? You were both too darn stubborn to ever meet. Sirius and I have been trying to get you both to meet for freaking ages. Idiots, the pair of you.”

There’s a ginger cat sat in front of the bathroom door once she’s finished. She opens the door and then boom, there it is, staring at her with these giant eyes, its tail swishing about on the carpet and watching her like a hawk.

Her hair is dripping wet, so she’s draped one of Mary’s towels around her shoulders to try and catch some of the droplets. All she’s wearing is James’s flipping football shirt, he’s so tall that the shirt finishes around her mid-thigh and she desperately tries to not make her mind wander. You know - when was the last time he wore it? How long for? What he did after wearing it, or before?

The cat cocks its head slightly to the side and swishes its tail once more, slowly. It’s like it knows exactly what she’s thinking.

“Hello?” she says. “And who might you be?”

The cat looks at her, and then lets out a meow.

Instantly there’s the sound of a chair scraping in the kitchen, frantic footsteps and the door banging open to reveal James holding what looks a cat’s bowl in his hands.

The cat stands up at once, trots up to him and begins purring and twirling around his legs. James crouches down to tickle the cat between its ears, and then must realise he can still hear the sound of the bathroom fan churning away, because he glances sideways towards her and jumps.

“Um,” he stares at her for a quick second and then reverts back to the cat who’s impatiently pushing its head under his left hand. “Sorry, I - uh - didn’t realise you were... finished.”

The cat bumps its head against his hand, clearly perturbed by the lack of attention it’s suddenly getting. James clears his throat, coughs and cracks his knuckles before petting the cat again.

“Thanks for the shirt,” she can’t think of anything else to say, and she is thankful (in more ways than he can surely imagine), so she just gives him a smile as she turns off the light and shuts the door.

Damn this awkwardness; he must think she’s some crazy, weird drunk who can’t make normal conversation. She’s actually quite charismatic - just, for some reason her tongue is tied and she can’t think straight for the life of her.

“Oh - no problem.” James stands and picks up the cat, cradling it in his arms like a baby. It doesn’t look happy in the slightest, but sits grumpily and content as James gives it a kiss on the head.

“This is Algernon,” James says once Lily decides to bite the bullet, takes a step forward and gives the cat in his arms a little pet.

“He’s adorable,” she says as she gives him another tickle, right behind the ears and under his chin. Algernon purrs loudly and closes his eyes - clearly enjoying the pampering session. “How old is he?” she asks, and then makes the mistake of turning her head and looking up at James.

Their eyes meet, and she didn’t realise they were this close; so close they’re almost shoulder to shoulder.

James gives her a small smile as he answers, “He’s almost five now. His birthday is on Bonfire Night.”

She can hear him swallow, and can hear the little intake of breath he takes as he clears his throat. He’s everywhere but it’s not a claustrophobic kind of feeling, it’s more overwhelming and exhilarating. Happy.

She can feel goosebumps creeping up her arms, and lets her gaze fall back to Algernon. She gives him another tickle. “Nice, he gets a party every year huh?”

“Most of the time he’s hidden under my or Sirius’s bed because he hates all the fireworks,” he laughs. “But he gets special birthday food which he greatly enjoys.”

Algernon decides he’s had enough now, he jerks a bit and drops to the floor gracefully. The six foot odd fall doesn’t seem to shock him at all, he runs towards the kitchen door and sits there for a moment before opening it by swatting his paw at the door madly until it pushes open.

“Are you having tea or what?” Comes the questioning voice of Mary MacDonald through the crack of the kitchen door.

James lets out a laugh and he follows after Algernon without delay, but all Lily can do is stare after him, perplexed.

Her day hasn’t exactly been the greatest, and meeting this strange and alluring James has only made everything even more confusing. Lily can feel the little wheels in her mind, turning and frantically moving to try and figure everything out.

James seems to have a hold of her already, somehow.

There’s a storm going on outside. The wind rattles against the windows, the trees sway violently, looking skeletal lit up by the dim street lights.

The walls of the flat are thin, so every crash of thunder sounds like what Lily imagines Gordon Ramsay does when he sees raw food being served. It’s loud, the floor and walls seem to shake and Algernon clearly doesn’t seem to like it either. The poor cat’s tail shoots up at the next batch of lightning and rumbling thunder and lets out a wild yowl before scattering off, no doubt to hide underneath Sirius’s bed which seems to be the best hiding place in the flat (much to Sirius’s annoyance).

The four of them, still sat at the table, still holding onto their now cold and empty mugs of nothingness, don’t say anything for a while until Sirius stands up from his chair (Mary follows his every move, not even trying to hide the fact that she takes a good, long and hard stare at her boyfriend’s bottom, which Lily supposes is quite nice, if she has to admit it) and picks up the remote from the coffee table.

“How about that rematch, Mary?” he asks, giving the girl in a question a teasing smirk as he flips the remote in his hand. “I bet you a hundred quid that I beat you this time.”

Mary lets out a laugh as she swings her legs off her chair. “Do you even have a hundred quid, Sirius?” she asks.

The boy in questions shrugs. “Maybe?” he grins as he turns on the Xbox One and takes out a pristine looking Soulcalibur V.

“Mary’s the unbeatable champion at that,” Lily says, pointing at the disk. She remembers the endless rematches all too well, Mary was merciless and violent at that game and became quite the formidable challenger.

“He knows,” Mary smiles. “It was a bit of a shock, right?”

“I was only being a gentleman.”

“She completely floored you, mate.” James laughs, he scrapes back his chair and starts loading the dirty crockery into the dishwasher. Lily slides a glance over to him and, when she realises his bottom is in the air, perfectly rounded, grabbable and hench, she chokes and moves her gaze back to the TV as quickly and as casually as she can manage.

Sirius has already spotted her and gives her a knowing look, wiggling his eyebrows and grinning at her maniacally. It’s only when he realises that the game has already started, and that Mary is already ripping him a new one, that he stops.

He lets out a gasp and starts frantically pressing buttons. “I thought you loved me!”

“Raphael loves no one!” Mary shoots up to her feet, gazing at the screen in so much intent that her tongue sticks out and she swerves her body this way and that as she punches, stabs, strangles and punctures Sirius.

Sirius is a fumbling mess, cusses and swears fly out every single time he’s hit (which is a lot) and every now and then he lets out a frustrated groan and throws back his head.

It’s not really surprising when Mary wins all three battles.

“My swordplay is peerless!” she says, mimicking her character without a second delay. Sirius groans in defeat, all the while muttering out “Kinky,” and “That’s what she said.”

“Lily?” he asks after five seconds of silence. He raises his head, and leans over onto Mary’s shoulder to shoot Lily an inquisitive glance. “Are you up for a battle?”

“I think I’m worse than you,”

“Ouch. Do you need some ointment for that burn, Sirius?”

She’s almost forgotten that James is there, radiating and oozing out sexiness and all things lush and wonderful, teasing and tantalising her with everything and anything that he does. She lets out a little jump when he speaks, and turns her head slightly to see what he’s doing.

He’s leaning on the counter, holding what has to be his fourth mug of steaming, hot tea in his hands.

“Har bloody har.” Comes Sirius’s deadpan voice.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she exclaims, cheeks flushed as James gives her a wink.

“Well,” Sirius says as he clears his throat and holds out the controller for her. “Shall we put you to the test?”

“I told you,” Lily says five minutes later, when Sirius is shocked and elated to see he has finally won a battle.

“You weren’t wrong,” Sirius tells her, falling back onto the sofa in surprise. “You really are terrible.”

“I wasn’t expecting to you be so shockingly bad,” James adds with a nod. “Here I thought you’d be some secret and talented gaming champion.”

“Lily’s talents lie elsewhere,” Mary says, nose deep in her phone and scrolling through Instagram. “I think we can add shockingly bad at Soulcalibur to the list, though. That was definitely an achievement.”

James grins, and runs a hand through his hair, spiking up the edges and ruffling the soft little curls. “Shall we see what’s on TV?”

There’s hardly any space for the four of them on the small, cat hair covered sofa, but somehow they manage. Lily eventually finds herself squished in the middle by a James and Mary sandwich, which isn’t too bad since it means she can accidentally touch James and pretty much get away with it.

Their elbows knock, arms touch and legs bump on more than one occasion, and each time they touch (even it’s just a little, tiny thing) she gets excited, and jumpy butterflies that make her stomach do somersault after somersault are in every crevice of her entire being.

Algernon eventually comes running into the room, and makes himself comfortable on James’s lap. It’s not long before the cat is snoring away, and the room slowly falls silent.

The TV is playing a marathon of Friends episodes, and the only inclination that the four of them are awake is the slow motion of Sirius’s hand softly running through Mary’s hair, Mary snuggling closer to Sirius, and James’s slight rotation of his feet and wiggle of his toes.

The thunderstorm finally passes over, and all that remains is a gentle pattering of rain against the windows. Lily actually feels safe, comfortable, happy.

She sneaks a quick glance at James, whose arm has gradually dropped throughout the hour and is now dangling dangerously close to her own. His eyes are tiredly blinking as he stares, transfixed, at the TV screen and his other hand, that is so close to hers she could just reach out and hold it, is absently stroking Algernon’s head.

He must feel her gaze, because he moves his head to look at her and gives her a tired, sweet smile.

“You okay?” he asks, already half asleep. His words are soft and hazy, full of drowsiness and soft, sweet breaths. She looks at him, and can feel her heart erupting inside of her chest.

“Yeah,” she says, and rests her head onto his shoulder. He lets out a happy kind of sigh, and there’s no mistaking the small movement of his head so he’s resting against her too.

It’s difficult not to smile, it’s so hard. And so she smiles the biggest smile her small mouth can manage, her cheeks positively ache but who the heck cares? Cloud nine isn’t high enough - she feels like she’s on cloud infinity , right here with him.

“I’m okay.”

And for once, she’s not lying.

She falls asleep with her head next to his, to the sound of Phoebe singing Smelly Cat, accompanied by the slight rainfall from outdoors. She can’t wait to wake up, for a new day to begin because she finally feels like she belongs.

Here, next to him.

She dreams of kisses, and candy canes and, for some strange reason, the world’s highest slide that is so tall it reaches up into the skies, to the very gates of Heaven.

But then she wakes up, groggy and bleary eyed and has to yawn for two minutes straight before she can think clearly and sit up.

She remembers last night, all the bad things but the good too. James’s face can’t escape her mind, and so she turns, wanting to see a sleepy James who’s painted golden from the morning sun.

But he’s gone, and all that’s left is his blanket that he covered their legs with when they said it was getting cold. The blanket’s now around her shoulders, and she brushes it off her and places it neatly onto the empty space where James should be.

Mary’s up and making coffee. She’s yawning endlessly as she hums out a tune and turns around to say morning.

“Where’s…” Lily holds her breath. It’s not possible that she dreamed up James - is it? He was perfect, exactly what her mind would create just to torment her into thinking he was real. She itches her nose and scratches her head, and tries to not sound too obvious. “Where’s uh, everyone?” she asks finally.

“Sirius is showering. And everyone else has, I think, gone to work.”

“Oh.”

Some toast pops up, and Mary shuffles towards the plate cabinet slowly. She’s wearing slippers that are far too big for her, they look like boats on her small size four feet, and, based from the image of a sausage dog that’s wearing sunglasses and the words ‘HOT DOG’ underneath, Lily assumes they’re Sirius’s.

“Apparently you two were snuggling like two lovebirds when his boss rang him up. He was supposed to start at nine and it was, like, twenty past.”

“Oh.”

“I think he really likes you, Lils.”

“Yeah?”

Mary gives her that look, and passes her a plate with buttered toast and a cup of coffee. “Of course he does Lily, come on.”

“He’s just left! Without even saying anything, or like leaving a message. He’s basically just done the walk of shame, sneaking out of the flat regretting everything.”

“Leaving for work is a little different-”

“I thought we had a, God - I don’t know,” Lily sighs, staring miserably at her toast before giving it a big bite. “A connection. I could feel something-”

“Like a kind of hot, pleasant feeling down in your-”

“No.” She picks up the closest thing to her, a fork, and throws it at Mary. “But he just felt - felt different. I guess.”

“I’m sorry, Lils. I really am. But I also don’t think you have a reason to be worried. I mean, James isn’t that kind of guy. He’s probably counting down the hours until he can see you again.” Then Mary lets out a gasp and clicks her fingers. “He’s exactly the kind of guy who’s probably written you some soppy love letter with his number on it. I bet you a toffee crisp.”

The two girls stare at each other for a long moment, and then jump up and run out of the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” Sirius asks, giving them both an amused stare. He’s just sorting out the post, and chucks a few of the useless pamphlets into the paper bin before standing up.

“We’re checking to see if James left Lily a love note before leaving for work,” Mary says with a giggle.

“One hundred percent. I can guarantee it.” Sirius gives Lily a wink. “He put it right…” He looks around the small hallway, and scratches his head. “Oh crap.”

“You’ve lost it?!” Mary gasps, appalled.

“Well, Mary my dear, define lost-”

“You can’t find it.” Mary says sharply, and crosses her arms against her chest.

“I never actually saw where he put it. I just know he did it. Because he gave me this love struck smile and wouldn’t stop crooning on about eyes as fresh as pickles and something about your hair,” he gives Lily a half shrug, and scratches his hair as he thinks deeply.

“So you’ve lost it.”

This isn’t how it was supposed to happen. It was supposed to be fate. Waking up next to each other and starting the first day of their whole lives together. Not this. Not a maybe love letter, and a maybe phone number, and the absence of James.

She didn’t want mess. She was tired of mess.

Maybe it wasn’t meant to be, simple as that.

[thephoenix-hq]

☞ NAME: Dorcas Meadowes. ☞ AGE: Nineteen (10.11.1959). ☞ BLOOD STATUS: Halfblood. ☞ HOUSE: Former Ravenclaw. ☞ GENDER: UTP. ☞ FACECLAIM: UTP.

+ THE STORY SO FAR +

Dorcas Meadowes was an only child until she turned five years old. On her fifth birthday, in fact, her parents sat her down amidst a room full of presents and told her she was going to be a big sister. She had been excited at first. The prospect of being a big sister, being someone another human being looked up to was a big deal to her. This all changed when her little brother had actually been born. He cried all the time and was a rather sickly child, taking up most of her parents attention. Dorcas didn’t mind once they started dropping her off at the park every day after school. She would happily spend time with children her own age anyway.

However, around the time Dorcas was seven years old, her magic began to show. It scared the other children and many of them turned mean, pointing their fingers at her and calling her names. Dorcas’ parents warned her against telling anyone what she was. They wouldn’t understand, they told her. Better just to keep it between us. So Dorcas didn’t tell anyone. She played by herself at the park and tried her best not to say anything whenever someone did come up to talk to her. They were either being callous, or they didn’t know any better. And Dorcas found it easier simply to ignore them. That is, until she met Mary MacDonald who became her dearest companion.

The two girls would go their separate ways once school started. Dorcas was sorted into Ravenclaw, the sorting hat making a sharp comment about how powerful the young witch was and how well she was going to do once she began learning how to hone it in. Dorcas was one of the top students throughout school, excelling the most in ancient runes and care of magical creatures. She was a viable quidditch player and enjoyed the physical activity that came along with it. Rather quickly, she became known as the girl with the studded boots and tangled hair, unafraid of giving her opinion and quick with a strong hex if crossed the wrong way. When she graduated, she was offered a position at the ministry but turned it down in favor of working with wild dragons around the world.

- J U N E 1 9 7 9 -

She had been packing her bags for a month-long stint in Romania when Albus Dumbledore showed up at her parents front door. He told her of the cause, explained to her the intentions of the Order of the Phoenix, and Dorcas had taken to it immediately. Her desire to protect Mary, the sweet, innocent girl she had known her whole life from the ugliness their world was being swallowed by was insurmountable. Dorcas felt as though she didn’t truly have a choice in the matter. “Yes.” She said, a cold determination in her voice. “Yes, of course.”

← C O N N E C T I O N S →

← Mary MacDonald

One day a little girl fell out of a tree. Dorcas had been on the nearby swing set when she heard it. There was a small squeal and then a telltale snapping of bones. Dorcas ran over to help her, a tangled mess on the ground. The girl was screaming, but it was dying on the air, giving way to shock as confused tears streaked down her cheeks. Her wrist, which had been bent awkwardly was healing itself. Dorcas was grinning because she knew what this meant. There was another witch in her neighborhood. Dorcas wasn’t alone anymore. However, by the shock on the young girls face, she could tell her parents were likely muggles and it was going to be quite a shock to learn of their daughters abilities. Heeding her parents warning, Dorcas never told the girl why it happened. She merely shrugged and told her it happened to her sometimes, too. They were immediate friends and it was another two years before the girl, Mary MacDonald, discovered the truth. Albus Dumbledore came to her home and explained everything to her and her family, offering her a place at Hogwarts school. Mary had run to the park afterwards to tell Dorcas everything. Dorcas, admitting that she knew and had always known, didn’t realize at the time that this would put an almost permanent phisher in their friendship. They would go off to school, be separated into different houses, and drift almost completely apart. Six years would go by before they became friends again, and it was by a far more devastating accident to Mary. However, since she awoke with Dorcas by her bedside, they had been all but inseparable ever since.

→ Sirius Black

The annoyance of all annoyances. Sirius never left Dorcas alone. When they had been in school together, it had been an entirely random day that he came up to her. He asked her something about quidditch that was so obviously a line she had done nothing more than fix him with a deadly contemptuous stare. This only seemed to spur him on further, however, and before Dorcas knew it, he was around every corner she turned. He was still annoying, but she found it oddly endearing and took to hanging out with him any time they weren’t separated by their other friends. They seemed to have a similar mindset on the matter. Mary was more important than him to Dorcas, and the Marauders were more important than her to Sirius. Their similar thinking patterns was why they got on so well. They had a mutual understanding. Graduation took them along different paths and they drifted apart exceedingly naturally. That is, however, until now. They both have the determination and the desire to take part in the order, knowing neither would pass up such a thoroughly rebellious opportunity.

← Peter Pettigrew

Peter isn’t a follower. He’s not timid or shy. He’s sneaky, devious. He doesn’t say much because he would rather you think him dim and be able to prove you wrong than put on as extravagant a show as, say, James Potter. That was incredibly clear to Dorcas. Her ability to read him came naturally from the first conversation they had. He approached her in the Three Broomsticks during their seventh year. Dorcas had been deep in a story recently published by the Daily Prophet about the discovery of a new breed of dragons in Brazil when he seemed to appear across from her as if out of thin air. She knew that hadn’t been how it happened. She had been too involved in the paper and he had been purposely quiet. ‘Hullo,’ he had said to her with a charming little smile and a sweet tint to his cheeks, as if he was embarrassed. Dorcas called him out on it. He wasn’t embarrassed and if he was going to pretend to be anyone other than himself, he could go. He watched her in baited surprise for a few minutes as she went back to reading her paper. When the barkeep sauntered over the them, finally, Peter ordered two butterbeers. She looked up and he was grinning, genuinely. She quirked an eyebrow, put the paper away, and from then on, they enjoyed each others’ company endlessly.

→ Marlene McKinnon

trigger warning: eating disorder

Dorcas had been made a prefect in her fifth year. It was something she did out of duty, but she didn’t mind it once they started letting her take late shifts. She would patrol for a few hours past curfew to make sure there weren’t any straggling students out of bed, but really she typically found herself wandering around aimlessly. It was the only time she was truly alone with her thoughts and she enjoyed it. She had been thinking about how she was going to approach a particularly difficult advanced transfiguration assignment when she heard something. Her ears pricked up, her footsteps growing silent as she crept along a third floor corridor. A hauntingly beautiful piece of music was drifting out of the girls bathroom. Lovely as it was, it set her hair on end and Dorcas pulled out her wand before pushing into the room. At first, she thought the room was empty except for a small, portable phonograph that balanced precariously on the sink. But then she saw her. A crumpled, scrawny blonde girl sprawled on the floor inside one of the stalls. A gasp left her mouth, it’s true, but Dorcas’ instincts kicked in and she dashed over, pulled open the door and knelt down to her. Her eyes were rolling around in her head as her lids bobbed, fighting hard to stay open. She was pale, sweating. There was a thin redness under her eyes which were primed by dark, heavy bags and her lips were turning blue at the corners, breathing incredibly shallow. Dorcas didn’t think. She simply scooped her up and headed straight for the hospital wing. She knew this girl. She was normally incredibly put together - so lovely it was sometimes painful to look at her. Marlene McKinnon. The Slytherin girl with the world seemingly in the palm of her pretty hands. Seeing her like this was a shock, but it had made Dorcas realize how little she knew about the people around her. She didn’t know who Marlene’s friends were, wasn’t sure who she could trust to keep this incident a secret. She had seen her talking with Lily Evans lately, however, and as Dorcas had been academically parring with Lily for seven years, she knew the redheaded Gryffindor was a good person to have around. So Dorcas wrote her a note and told her owl to keep tapping on her window until she opened it and read the letter. Dorcas wouldn’t mention it, but she wished Marlene well. No one deserved to put up such a front as she seemed to. This had been the start of Dorcas paying more attention to those around her. She became exceedingly good at reading people, seeing through the cloud of how they presented themselves and to who they really were inside. At the very least, she had Marlene McKinnon to thank for that.

DORCAS MEADOWES IS CURRENTLY OPEN FOR APPLICATIONS.

[rather-impertinent]

Girl Next Door chpt. 9

A/N: I haven’t proof-read this because I can’t be arsed lmfao but I am sorry if there’s any mistakes! Sorry it took so long to finish this one, I hope you can forgive me! I promise I’ll try to be quicker with the next chapter! Love u guys thanks so much for reading xo

Dr Dwight Enys sighed tiredly as he made his way to his office to complete the paperwork for the gastrectomy he’d just performed. It had been a routine procedure, he’d even gotten close to beating his personal best of one hour and forty-nine minutes, but a last-minute drop in the patient’s blood pressure meant that they procedure had ultimately taken just over two hours to complete. The minute Dwight closed his office door behind him, his thoughts drifted back to his conversation with Morwenna a couple of days ago.

“So, what have you been up to for the past six months?” “Nevermind what I’ve been up to, what have you been up to?” Morwenna, asked, wiggling her eyebrows. “What is this?” She motioned to the pink mug adorned with a pug. “Explain.” Morwenna took a sip of her proffered cup of tea, examining Dwight closely over the rim, waiting for him to speak.

He fidgeted with the handle of his cup. “Can I get Loveday anything? A cup of milk? Orange juice?” They both glanced at the 8-month-old baby playing contentedly on the rug as she rammed the leg of an unsuspecting stuffed octopus into her mouth. “She’s fine. Stop trying to stall! So, what’s your girlfriend’s name?” Morwenna was grinning widely, the smile of a friend who had long been waiting for another friend to find happiness. Dwight sighed slightly. “Well, first of all, she’s not my girlfriend and–” “–but you wouldn’t mind if she was your girlfriend?” He nodded slowly, grudgingly admitting the strength of his feelings to another person. “Her name is Caroline, she’s my neighbour. She’s–” “–Oh! Demelza told me about her! She works with Dem now sometimes, right? Is she the really beautiful blonde one?” A small smile crept up on his face, coupled with a light blush. “Yes, and yes.” Morwenna took a big gulp of her tea and tried to settle a fussing Loveday, who was now feeling put out at not being the centre of attention. “Wow, impressive. So, what are you going to do? Have you asked her out? Does she like you back? Oh, my God, you have to bring her to Sam and Emma’s wedding next month, so I can meet her!” Dwight groaned. Why do women get so excitable over nothing? “Ugh, Wenna I feel like I’m back in high school! I’ll sort it myself.” She raised an eyebrow and him and scoffed, “No, you won’t! I know you won’t, Dwight. You’ll dance around the matter for far too long and then she’ll think you’re not interested and meet someone else and then we’ll all have to send care packages to your flat to keep you alive because you’ll go into some mental self-depreciating coma and convince yourself you’re not worthy of food or something!”

Dwight laughed at her not entirely false hypothesis. “Well, I have told her I like her. At least, I’m pretty sure I have. And we’ve kissed. She’s stayed over a few times – nothing’s happened though,” he added hastily as Morwenna’s eyebrows shot up, “But I’ve not asked her out officially yet, I want to but I just don’t want to fuck it up like–”

“Dwight, I swear to God, if you’re about to finish that sentence the way I think you are then shut your mouth right now. You can’t keep on letting what happened in the past ruin your future!” She looked at him pleadingly.

Dwight made a face and then smiled into his mug as he took a gulp of tea. “That was very philosophical of you.”

“Those of us without medical degrees do still have the capacity for deep thought, you know,” Morwenna teased with a deadpan expression. Dwight opened his mouth to tell her he didn’t mean it like that, but she burst out laughing. “I’m only joking! Now, are you going to ask her out or not?”

Dwight grimaced. Whenever he’d talk to Demelza about things like this, she was just quietly supportive and blessedly patient. Morwenna, on the other hand, was much more assertive when it came to matters of the heart. She and Drake had wasted no time in getting married, waiting just eight months from when they started dating, which raised everyone’s eyebrows, but three years later, they were probably the most stable couple of all his friends. “I, um, I guess so. I’m just not really sure how to go about it,” he sighed, necking his tea and placing the cup on the coffee table.

“Stop overcomplicating it. Just do it, it’s a simple seven-word question.” She bent down and picked up Loveday, bouncing her on her knee. “Uncle Dwight is being silly, isn’t he, sweetheart?”

Loveday clapped her chubby hands together in agreement, though not entirely sure what she was agreeing with.

Dwight swiped her cheek gently with his index finger. “Whose side are you on, huh?” He and Morwenna exchanged smiles. “So, where’s Drake? I haven’t seen him for ages!”

They’d gotten off the topic of Caroline for the evening then and chatted about this and that until Morwenna left. Dwight felt invigorated by her visit and appreciated her honesty and straight-to-the-point manner of speaking. He decided he was going to ask Caroline to be his girlfriend this week.

“Dr Enys?” a voice came from the door of his office, bringing him back to reality.

Dwight blinked, a patient form coming into focus, a pen held in his slack grip. He wondered how long he’d been spaced out for. He cleared his throat slightly. “Yes?”

The nurse smiled in amusement at him. “How many days should we keep Mr MacDonald in for?” she repeated.

“Oh, of course. I think maybe nine or ten days as opposed to a week, just to keep an eye on his blood pressure after such a major surgery.”

She walked into the room and handed him a clipboard. “Cool. Can you sign it off?”

Dwight wordlessly scribbled his signature on the forms, completely absorbed in his thoughts.

Once the room was vacated, Dwight sighed and quickly checked his phone. Caroline still hadn’t answered his text from yesterday morning or this morning. Oh well, he only had two more consultations until his lunch break, he would go see her then.

Dwight locked the car door behind him as he made his way across the car park. His car clock had informed him that it was 11:27am; meaning he’d been allowed out a little early. It had been weirdly quiet in the hospital all week, practically everybody had had time to eat an actual whole sandwich, salad or pasta, as opposed to the usual quick energy bar. Though grateful to have a break from cocoa orange Nakd bars for a few days, the idleness unnerved Dwight, as it almost felt like the calm before a storm.

The doorbell chimed as he stepped into the café, which was quiet for this time of day – only an elderly couple and what looked like two students playing truant from school occupied the building.

Dwight smiled and waved at Caroline, who was standing at the counter. She met his gaze but neither smiled nor waved. Instead, she leaned over and whispered something to Demelza and then disappeared somewhere around the corner.

Dwight thought it was a bit odd that she hadn’t stayed to greet him, but maybe it was her break and she was going to join him for coffee. “Hey, morning, Dem,” he chirped, failing to note the tense atmosphere in the room.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Demelza growled.

Dwight blinked, taken aback by her question and stung by the anger in her voice. “What do you mean?” he asked, the hurt and panic in his voice plain. “Dem, what’s–”

She shook her head, her nostrils flaring. Was he really about to lie to her? “I can’t believe after everything that happened you would even fucking entertain the thought of seeing her again. Keren brought nothing but trouble into your–”

“Keren?” Dwight blurted out, his brows creased almost painfully, his confusion at an all time high. “What? I haven’t seen her for–”

“Don’t lie to me, Dwight!” Demelza hissed, her face turning red in anger. “I can’t believe you would do–”

“I haven’t done anything! I have no idea what you’re talking about!” he shouted, causing the teenagers sat by the window to look up from their phones in interest. “Why the fuck would you think I’ve been talking to Keren? I haven’t seen her for about four years, I don’t even know if she’s still alive!” A bit dramatic but not entirely false. “What is going on?” he demanded, staring at her intently.

Demelza exhaled, releasing the breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding – Dwight had never raised his voice at her before. Had he ever even raised his voice at anyone before? She nodded her head to the left, signalling him to follow her to an empty table. Demelza fidgeted with the sleeves of her long black shirt. “The other day,” she began slowly, “Caroline saw you with a brunette girl outside your flat. She said you gave her a massive hug and seemed really into her and that she came inside your flat and she–”

Dwight’s barely audible “oh, God” coupled with a hand over his face stopped Demelza’s speech. Dwight whined and ran a hand through his hair. “That was Morwenna, Dem. She came over for a quick catch up and brought Loveday!”

Demelza joined Dwight in placing a hand over her face. “Oh, thank fuck,” she breathed, so relieved he hadn’t gone back to the absolute travesty of an ex-girlfriend he had five years ago. “You had me worried! Shit, though, what are you going to do?”

He met her wide-eyed gaze with confusion. He blinked at his red-headed friend several times. “I don’t understand, what do you mean?”

She gestured helplessly at him. Why are men so stupid? “About Morwenna. About Caroline.” The penny slowly began to drop after a few seconds, but in his defence, he did get up at 4am. “You’ll obviously have to explain to Caro that it was Wenna and not Keren, but she’s so upset with you, Dwight. I doubt she’d believe you if you told her just now.” Demelza chewed her lip in apprehension, checking the counter to see if Caroline had emerged from the staffroom yet. She hadn’t.

Dwight followed her gaze and put two and two together. “But why is she upset with me? I’ve done nothing wrong!” He insisted stubbornly, annoyance creeping up on him. Why do women always jump to conclusions? What’s wrong with simply sitting down and talking about something?

Demelza cocked her head to the side and shot him a sharp glare before slapping his hand which rested limply on the table, as if she was telling off Julia. “Oh, stop being such a man child, Dwight! Try to see this from Caroline’s perspective; she had planned a nice surprise for you and then she saw you with–”

“What?” This came out as a sort of pathetic squeak. Dwight cleared his throat, guilt beginning to submerge his entire being. “Caroline planned a surprise for me?”

Demelza sighed, “Yes and when she saw you with Morwen–”

“What was the surprise?”

She glared at him and sighed loudly in impatience. “Dwight Stephen Enys if you interrupt me again so help me God I will leave you to sort out this fucking mess yourself, do you understand?” Dwight’s mouth remained firmly shut after he’d finished gulping. “So, when she saw you with Morwenna she got really upset because she thought you’d been seeing someone, who she assumed was Keren – I didn’t realise the two of you were that close, by the way –,” she added, raising a suggestive eyebrow at him before continuing, “and that you’d been playing her this whole time. She thought Loveday was yours because you looked so natural. She tried to say all this casually, as I’m sure you’ll know, but I could tell she was hurt, like… trying not to cry. She really likes you, Dwight. You better fucking fix this. You will literally never get a girl as hot as this ever. I know I’ve only worked with her for a few months but she’s really great and lovely and I think you guys are well suited.” Demelza’s eyes were soft as they meet his. “So, fix this and fix it quickly,” she ordered, rising from her seat and returning back to the coffee machine to clean it while the place was still quiet.

Dwight noted apprehensively that Caroline was still nowhere to be seen. Would she really not come out and talk to him? In any case, Dwight was nowhere near finished his shift and knew he had return to the hospital very soon, but before he leaving he approached Demelza once more. She slid him his usual order – a mocha with a double espresso shot – across the wooden countertop. Dwight smiled at the gesture – at least there was one less woman in the world who was mad at him. “Will you still be here when I get off later on?”

Demelza shook her head as she wrung out a wet cloth before beginning to swipe it across the wooden surface. “No, I’m finished at midday – I’m teaching two lectures this afternoon.” Demelza, as of two days ago, was now officially a part-time music lecturer at the local college. He had truly never met a more hardworking person than Demelza Poldark, and she never once complained about it.

“Well, what do you think I should do? For Caroline, I mean?” He checked his watch, and then danced on the spot impatiently – he had exactly eleven minutes to return the hospital, where he was now on rota for A&E.

Demelza continued to wipe down the serving counter and chewed her lip in contemplation. “Well, obviously you’ll have to apologise and explain… but you’ll have to do it in a way where she knows you truly mean it.”

Dwight shrugged helplessly and displayed both of his palms. “What does that even mean?” he groaned. Women and feelings were too complicated. He should just become a hermit.

Without warning or hesitation, Demelza hit him on the head with the wet, bleach-soaked cloth. “Stop being a whiny twat, it doesn’t suit you. I don’t know, you’re the one that’s in love with the girl, you figure it out.”

“I’m not in love with her,” he mumbled pathetically, averting his gaze, suddenly very interested in how he’d managed to scuff his shoes.

Demelza smirked and raised her eyebrows at him. “Very convincin’, Dr Enys,” she taunted, her Cornish accent coming through due to her amusement. She eyed the time on the clock and noted that his usual break-time was coming to an end, “you better get back to the hospital and do some actual work. God knows what your lot are always striking for, you never do anythin’!”

Her tease evoked a smile from him and he quickly leaned over the counter and hastily pressed his lips to her cheek. “Thanks for your help, Dem, you’re the best,” he said sincerely before rushing out of the building, hoping that being 20 seconds late won’t cost someone their life.

“Remember what I told you!” she called after him before the door closed. She shook her head at Dwight and his terrible luck with women and sighed. She hummed a Cornish folk tune softly as she continued doing some cleaning.

“Is he finally gone?” Caroline asked as she emerged from the small staff room around the corner, her tone a mixture of nervousness and iciness.

Demelza turned around and looked at her sympathetically. “Yes, but you see, we’ve got it all wrong.” Demelza grinned in relief. She approached Caroline to explain everything that Dwight had just told her, but she stopped short and hesitated. “I could explain... but I reckon Dwight would prefer to do that himself instead.”

Caroline stared at Demelza for moment, her expression unreadable. Then, she pressed her pink lips into a thin line and crossed her arms stubbornly across her chest. “Try me.”  

[quartusbellum-blog]

BELLA for the role of  MARY MACDONALD, using the faceclaim KAT MCNAMARA.

I love what you’ve done with Mary! I got a very clear sense of her personality in your application. I really enjoyed your description of her role in the Ashen Phoenix, as well as her unwavering belief that people can’t change. It’s going to be very interesting to see that in play, so thank you so much for applying and welcome to Quartus Bellum! 

ooc details

Name: Isabella! You can call me Bella, though. Hi there.

Age: 22.

Pronouns: She/hers/her.

Activity Level: This month is less busy for me and I should be able to get on at least every other day for a couple hours at a time.

Other: The only trigger I have is incest, but it’s not a huge deal for me! Also, this group looks amazing and I’m so excited.

Acknowledgement: I acknowledge that the themes of this game may include triggering elements. I also acknowledge that my character may be harmed, coerced, or even killed (with player’s consent) during paras/events or may cause harm to or kill others during paras/events. - I acknowledge this note.

                                                  ჻    ჻    ჻   ჻

general ic details

Name: Mary Gavina MacDonald

Gavina means “hawk woman” in Scottish.

Age: March 28, 1959 (Aires).

Ships: Literally, I’m open to everything and anything. Mary is pansexual, even if she doesn’t exactly know how to identify herself at this time. However, she’s genuinely skeptical of others and it takes a lot for her to actually become romantically involved with someone.

Gender/Pronouns: cis-female, she/hers/her.

Face Claim: Katherine McNamara, Zendaya Coleman (when writing this, pictured her as Kat!)

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biography:

TW: abuse.

Mary was born between wildflowers. Maybe it was fate when Patricia MacDonald lay on a cot just outside the small cottage of her best friend, unable to make it to the hospital. The wildflowers blew in the wind like wind chimes and when Mary was born, she did not scream. Instead, she giggled, as if the flowers were tickling her toes and she was alright with their saying hello.

Her mother was a wild woman; shunned by their small, and very strictly conservative, Scottish town for having a child out of an affair. To Mary, though, her mother’s wildness made her unique and she strived to be just as curious and observational as Patricia was. Mary would follow her mother with starry eyes, taking their lack of housing as an adventure. But there were days where Mary would be the one, alone, on her adventures. Although her mother was born of magical parents, she was a squib, and by association Mary was an outcast. They left the town only to find the grass isn’t greener and sometimes, when her mother was out trying to make them enough to get food for the next day, Mary would be the one bartering at markets, fixing old blankets, spotting the highest ground and the cheapest apple. Eventually, Mary’s sly fingers would get them abandoned houses, free snacks, and even new clothes.

Mary was known as the little girl who saved Patricia MacDonald. However, when she was old enough, her Hogwarts letter found them at an abandoned shack in Northern Scotland. Patricia would never say no to such an opportunity but her lack of surprise was not shared by her daughter. Mary had always thought her skills had been just good enough to be considered lucky, but as she realized she was a witch, it was obvious that magic played a large role in her upbringing. Her heart was not just set on Hogwarts but as soon as she stepped through the doors, she was home. There was food on the table, delicious food, every single night. She could hide in the library any time she’d like. The title of Gryffindor came as as surprise to her, as she always assumed she’d be Ravenclaw, but the Slytherin’s in the halls were even more shocking. She was so far removed from the world of magic that prejudices other than towards the poor had not occurred to her. Not silent about her feelings on this manner, Mary was often found sticking up for the younger Gryffindors, bravely confronting the Slytherin’s and often involving McGonagall (her hero and role model).  

The day Mulciber had enough was the day Mary decided that she would do whatever it took to stop these people. She was cornered in a bathroom stall and Mulciber used unspeakable curses and horrible whispers to tell her just what the people in Slytherin thought of her, and other half-bloods and muggleborns who’s blood did not run bright crimson. Mary reported the assault to McGonagall and the both of them stormed to Dumbledore; unstoppable. However, Dumbledore’s hands were tied. Mulciber could not, and would not, be touched. The rest of her sixth year was spent trying to pick up her pieces. She pushed away anything that might be considered friendship in order to focus on taking them down. The rage inside her was like a caged animal and it was not until summertime, back in their shack, that she finally let it out to her mother.

The following August, Dumbledore approached Mary about the Order and she did not hesitate before agreeing. Although she did not agree with Dumbledore’s decision, Mary would give him a chance to prove that he would, and could, save them all. She was one of the original members, devoting most of her final year to helping build the organization from the ground up. Mary was relentless in the Order, eager to learn more spells so that she could teach, dying to study wizarding history so she could learn from the past, and hoping that maybe, just maybe, they could change the world.

Mary would never regret this hopefulness, but it came back to bite her when, during a battle, her mother’s town was ransacked. Her mother was killed in the crossfire, a civilian casualty, that caused Mary’s life to flip upside down. The rage returned but this time she had no one to speak to. The hope flickered off, dying with the setting sun on the day of her mother’s funeral. That very rage boiled throughout the rest of the war and when they lost, she was not surprised. Unfortunately, giving up was not in her vocabulary.

When she did not have her mother to care for, Mary began taking care of the people around her. She would steal, find them shelter, and get through the doors that many of her muggleborn friends could not. The Ashen Phoenix rose from the, well, ashes and Mary was going to make sure that it soared. She was  sure if she could survive her mother having died for nothing. Mary will do anything it takes to make sure they win; no matter the cost.

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my character is:

Please Describe a Belief your character has that is wrong.

Mary does not believe people can change. After so much time spent trying to get others to be better and do better and understand that the world is not black and white, she has become tired. Her lips are chapped and her tongue is dry and she does not know how, or really want to, keep pressing people’s buttons to get them to see her point of view. Mary has a nasty habit of believing that she’s almost always right, although in matters of equality she knows that she is right. Maybe that’s a nasty thought, but Mary has had too much spent too much time in her life playing nice to all the wrong people. If you were a Death Eater, in her mind, you will always be one.

Address the differences between what your character is currently doing and what they would prefer to do?

Currently, Mary is the runner for the Ashen Phoenix. If she had to describe the position, she would call it a mix between a healer, a thief, and a tinker. Sirius may be the mother, but Mary heard just as many complains and concerns that she was going to fix. She had always been good with machinery, luckily enough for them, and she was able to hijack cars, fix old radios, and even combine some magic with muggle technology without the loss of function. If she were able to pick and choose her profession, though, Mary would love to continue that thread. She’d always been interested in how technology did not seem to operate around magic and Mary thinks that she could find the solution. A position in the Department of Muggle artifacts, or even an engineer in the muggle world, would be a perfect position. However, Mary knows that those thoughts are only dreams.

ooc questions

Writing Sample:

A single light flickered in the barn, casting a yellow glow that didn’t quite light the entire space. Mary slouched over a wooden desk, eyes fixated carefully on a tiny piece of machinery, one that might not have been visible to others without a microscope. Ever so carefully, she used her wand to slowly left a small section of the radio’s wiring. Closing her eyes, Mary allowed the spell to slip from her lips and the glow of the magic entered the radio. Bracing herself for impact, the radio sputtered once, twice, and then… it turned blue. A smile crept across her face, the first one that she’d managed since the shovels and the dirt and the goodbyes.

The day was for nightmares, Mary decided, but the night was for dreams.

Quickly now, she turned the dial on the radio and listened, softly to the breeze. The tracking spell had worked although Mary was not sure for how long. Her last couple attempts to blend technology and magic had backfired, although not quite catastrophically. A small explosion in the barn was a small price to pay for a potential piece of spy equipment. For a second more, Mary waited. She hoped. The radio did not sputter out, or explode for that matter, but the sound died just as someone was starting to speak. The hope faded from her eyes and she set her head down on the table, silent.

Maybe it wouldn’t have been the right person, but it could have been close. The attack on her town had left them all with little answers but Mary’s biggest question was just who had done it. She’d found scraps of black cloaks, one she would recognize no matter how scarred or ashen the material had become. Whoever had worn this burned her town to ash. Whoever had worn this might have burned her mother, too.

Her mind slipped back to the burial; to her mom sitting in that casket like a mannequin. Mary swore it couldn’t be her there, lacking the rose in her cheeks, and the daisies in her smile. The yellow and pink had disappeared as if they had been sucked out of her by a wand. Mary hated that magic had this sort of power. There were wondrous moments that magic could create but many forgot about the dangers. Mary had not forgotten, and she did not think she ever would.

Her breath was warm against her arm. Sticky. Wet. Mary pulled away and wiped away the tears that she hadn’t let fall at the actual funeral itself. Maybe a couple of hours was what she needed to finally let the tears out. Her shoulders began heaving, the storm coming, tears falling faster now, hitting the wood and changing the color, almost like a mood ring. She couldn’t stop, but she didn’t want to stop, because for the first time since she’d received her tragedy, for the first time since her mother had left the Earth, Mary recognized that she was gone.

The pain was there but, for once, the anger wasn’t.

Exploration:

one. I would love to see Mary confront Mulciber one day. I don’t know if they’re going to be a character in play, or if we would ever receive one, but I want that moment to happen. I picture her having steered clear of him the rest of 6th year and I would like for her to have her revenge, because, honestly, Mary is angry. Mary is angry and she needs an outlet, or at least a moment, to prove to herself that she can put that anger into the world and not have it bite her.

two. I’m so sorry these are all gonna be like Mary’s angry!! But she is! And she wants to break Dumbledore out of his jail cell. She knows he doesn’t deserve to be there and I always imagined him almost having a grandfather presence in her life. If she cannot break him free, she believes that she will never be able to win the war. Mary has been planning, scheming, working on a way to get him out. Whether or not that’s with other characters or with herself is something I could definitely talk to other players about, but I want her to be having this grand scheme to bring Dumbledore back. As if that would suddenly fix everything.

three. Maybe this is a basic one, but I would really love to see Mary open up to someone. She has walls up as high as the tallest tower at Hogwarts, and she usually tries to flirt and hide behind her true feelings in order to keep them pushed down. If she doesn’t listen to that little voice in her brain, she doesn’t have to face herself. However, I want her to find someone who forces her to think about herself and her own feelings. I want someone to bring out the good in her, even if for small minutes. Whether this is a best friend, or a potential romantic interest, it’s of no matter to me! I just would like to see Mary be able to have these moments and she needs someone to press her to do so.

four.  Last but certainly not least, I would like Mary to find out who her dad is. In my mind, I pictured him as a wizard who is now a priest, as he was a pureblood who fell in love with a Squib. I don’t know exactly how Mary would deal with this knowledge, as she never had to think about her father (her mother was all she needed). I would still like to see what happens. I also think that she would not appreciate the fact that he was in hiding all of this time when he could have been helping her.