in the cards | marlene mckinnon

15. turn me on, turn me down

Friday night couldn't come fast enough for the students of Hogwarts. Most teachers, especially McGonagall and Slughorn had decided to kick the year off immediately. Which meant piles on piles of homework for each of them.

Nora was thoroughly stressed out, already having fallen behind in both her actual coursework and her homework. The only subject she hadn't already fucked herself over in was divination.

And that was only because she had convinced professor Auberac she was having visions of the future, and could therefore not be expected to complete the same assignments as all the others.

Spoiler alert; she most certainly was not. Though, that would've made her life so much easier.

As she gave him a hurriedly written script of the 'contents', he swooned and complimented her on the 'extra credit' and exemplary work she had done, even adding points to her house.

He either wasn't the sharpest tool in the box or he was genuinely high all of the time. Nonetheless, best not to speculate, as long as it benefited her. God forbid she start prodding about, only to lose whatever privilege she had.

Nevertheless, both Peter and Nora managed to scrap enough energy together from their late night class surveying the stars to go get ready. Which for the girl meant piling glitter and eyeliner on her face as Peter only changed their shirt.

It had become somewhat of a tradition for the girls of Gryffindor to get ready together, same as it had for Nora and her friends. Whilst the lions preened and prepped in their own dorm, the others gathered in the room of requirement, as it was the only place they could gather together safely, as of late.

"I really don't get why I'm a Gryffindor."

Dorcas' voice could be heard over the scratching repeats of Lily's newest ABBA vinyl, whilst trying to button up their too small pants.

"Are you saying that just cause Lily's red shirt doesn't match your pants?" Marlene asked, only to quieten at the death stare Dorcas gave in reply.

"You're brave," Mary supplied, preoccupied with braiding her own hair to realise how half-assed the comment was. "And nice."

"Yeah, but I think I'm more of a Slytherin, to be honest. Maybe even a Ravenclaw."

"Yeah, but you're..." Lily started, only to trail off at the end of her sentence. "Huh, you're right."

"Don't get me wrong it's been lovely to share a room with you slobs for the last seven years, but I've never really felt like much of a Gryffindor. Marlene is definitely a Gryffindor, so is Lily, and James, and Sirius. Mary could pass as a Hufflepuff and Remus and Peter as Ravenclaws, but they still definitely belong here."

"D'you feel like you don't belong?" Marlene asked, pausing the application of her eyeshadow for a second to spare a glance at her friend. 

"No, no, of course not. I'm just convinced that geriatric fedora lost its wits ages ago," Dorcas grinned, showing off their pearly teeth. Geriatric Fedora had become their name for the sorting hat, after sitting through their fourth sorting.

"I'm not quite sure it ever had any. I mean, has it just been guessing all this time? Because that would explain a lot," Mary stressed the last syllable.

"Am I brave only because a dinged up hat told me I was? Jesus Christ, that makes for an identity crisis," Lily joked, even if her eyes widened out of her control for a fraction of a second. "Now I really need to get drunk."

As if right on cue, the wooden framed door to the dormitory slammed open, and a body covered in what could only be described as an insurmountable amount of leather and glitter.