#marlene3

[hollidaytaylor]

when: 25 february, breakfast time where: great hall, hufflepuff tables who: @marlenethemenace​+ hollie

“If you’re going to bribe me, lipgloss is better than breakfast foods.” She still added a pancake to her plate as she sat down across from Marlene at the Hufflepuff table. “What can I help you with? I hope I’m able to.”

[burningstarsirius-blog]

Facing Consequences | S & M

It wasn’t Sirius’ fault. All right, it wasn’t entirely Sirius’ fault. James was at least partially to blame and he well knew it. Granted, sometimes they were a dangerous mix out on a mission, since they both tended to be somewhat reckless and jump into things. If one of them had been a little more levelheaded, and if it was anyone it was usual James, then it likely would’ve been less of a problem but they tended to really only encourage each other’s reckless nature, sure enough in their own skills that they could get out of it or at least back each other up in their harebrained plans. Sirius would argue that this had actually turned out for the best, in spite of him ending up in the infirmary at Order headquarters. The plan had (mostly) worked so mission accomplished. He probably should’ve gone to St. Mungo’s but he’d spent so much time there recently that he outright refused. Besides it was only a few scratches and a minor burn. With some potions and some healing spells he’d be right as rain in a few days. It was certainly a better option to have to be confined here than staring at the walls of St. Mungo’s. Sirius would probably go mad if he had to do that. 

Most of the problem now was that he was bored. His left leg wasn’t working particularly well at the moment, though, due to those scratches maybe being a little more than just scratches, so he was basically confined to bed rest. His right arm was bandaged and poulticed and he had to drink a foul potion every few hours to help with the healing process and take care of the magical burn that was a lot worse than your every day, garden variety burn. All right, so he was a little more hurt than just ‘a few scratches and a burn’ but that was how he’d present it to everyone else. At least he wasn’t in unbearable pain or anything, though he was certainly sore as he lay, shirtless, in the bed and stared at the ceiling. Reaching for his wand, he muttered ‘wingardium leviosa’ a few times and made four of the objects, mostly medical supplies and potion ingredients, start to float. It was a little awkward, doing it with his left hand, but he managed. He flicked his wand and made them start to dance around the room slowly, doing small, lazy figure eights and smirking a little. The door opened and he glanced over. “Please tell me you’ve brought me something to do that isn’t this.” He gestured, not expansively, more like a twitch of the fingers on his right hand, at the dancing supplies. 

@estrela--marlene

[luxtalkalot]

When: 23 November, 1979 Where: Hogsmeade somewhere?? Who: Lux + @marlenethemenace​

It wasn’t as though Lux had avoided Marlene’s party to be rude. She just could not imagine herself getting on with everyone there, while having to roller-skate. Something she didn’t have the skills for. People and skates? She’d stick to motorcycles. “Hey, blondie,” Lux waved at the girl. See, she wasn’t avoiding her at all. “You busy?”

[regulus-wil]

AU: How did we end up like this? | Marlene & Regulus

Description: The year is 1981, and Regulus never defected from the Death Eaters. Despite his reluctance at first, and his slow questioning of the nature of the Dark Lord, Regulus decided it was safer from himself and his family to just follow this seemingly new world order. Even with the guilt of the blood on his hands, Regulus accepted missions readily, although a little saddened by it. He never thought the assignment that would come through next might ruin his mental state completely.

It had been such a long time of him doing this, that Regulus almost didn’t recognise himself in the mirror. As soon as the heir of the Black family made his first kill, his appearance began to deteriorate. First, he stopped making sure his clothes were impeccable, opting for vests rather than shirts, jackets rather than blazers. When his father passed away, so did his ability to eat until he was full. Slowly, the muscle he had on his body began to shrink, and he began to look remarkably ill and underweight. Even now, wearing a large overcoat, it was obvious how unwell and sickly he was. Now amount of black, messy hair could cover his gaunt features and sunken, dead eyes.

Still, he had orders. And despite how terribly ruined he looked, he had to obey.

They seemed to have split the family members up when he arrived, so he wasn’t sure how many of them were left or who they were. He heard screams of agony from every angle the moment he stepped over the threshold, even though the street outside had been deathly quiet. A simple silencing spell around the house. A shame for the family inside, really. It meant there would be no help, no one coming to aid them as they begged and pleaded for some sort of saviour. The familiar uncomfortable squirm occurred in his stomach, but he said nothing as he approached the Death Eater who seemed to be in charge.

Ah, Regulus. We gave you one you might like. The man had said. That was never a good sign. Usually that meant it was someone he knew from Hogwarts – as if questioning and torturing someone he may have shared a lesson with was some sort of privileged. Maybe it was for other Death Eaters, but for him, it made it so much worse. He once had to kill his Astronomy partner for asking too many questions. He’d never quite recovered from the hopeful look in his eye turning to something of a betrayal before he took his life. He didn’t torture that one, and he was glad for it. Made it as quick as possible. The best he could give.

But he followed wordlessly. Whoever these people were, he could hear some of them refusing to answer questions amidst the screams. A brave family, then. They were rare nowadays. But perhaps they knew. Perhaps they knew that it wouldn’t matter whether they answered all of their questions or not, they would die anyway. That was the Death Eater way. That was his way now.

But nothing could prepare him for who he came face to face with. The man next to him began to talk about her and what information was needed from her, but Regulus didn’t listen. He was too busy staring, impassively, at the figure on the chair in the ruined room. But despite his face being blank, his emotions were anything but. She looked for worse for wear, and Regulus felt sick at the idea that they’d already attempted to ruin her morale. Marlene McKinnon – the girl who tried to save him, and had failed. Marlene, a girl he trusted – and lost touch with for obvious reasons.

And now, he was expected to torture and then kill her. How could he?

The door closed next to him, and Regulus looked up sharply, realising the other Death Eater had left and he was alone with someone he really wish wasn’t here. But he wasn’t oblivious, and he was sure she wasn’t either. Was she scared? Or would she look at him the same way as she did in their Hogwarts years? Challenging. He decided not to look at her expression at first, opting to look at his wand instead as he twisted it around his fingers.

“Lets make this easy, yes?” He asked her, his voice weak and tired. There was no way out of this situation, she would die by his hand. “Just tell me what they want to know and I’ll make it quick. I have no desire to let you linger in pain.”

@marleneisleft​

[williamtimothynott-blog]

A few minutes of reluctant dancing | Warlene

William reluctantly participated in the formal dance that most of the students participated. He hated the concept that they'd be changing partners in some of the steps making him let go of his date for the night. Just the mere thought of dancing with these masked women who probably doesn't even deserve the time of his day makes him want to march out of the Great Hall in a flash. But as a good date, he stayed and humor the lady and didn't spoil the mood.

He was a god damned good dancer as his mother made sure William grew up to be a proper wizard that dances well during pureblood gatherings. The masks on the females surely added mystery to them and William tried to relax and enjoy every thump of the classical music. He danced with everyone as the circle continued changing partners every few minutes.

Everything was going okay until he was partnered with a blonde female with cherry red lips. William immediately stiffened, his lips set in a firm line. He knows her even with the intricate mask covering her face. Her scent alone was enough clue on who was behind the mask. It might be the curse of knowing someone too well and there's nothing and no one to blame with this incident. "McKinnon." He said with an even tone as he slipped his hand to hold hers and put the other one on her waist before they swayed to the music.