Seven (R.L)

23

"She's french, doesn't speak much English." The blonde yelled at Anastasia. She stopped dancing for a second, peeved to be interrupted by a man, but continued on.

"That's Jean. She's all interior, doesn't really speak all that much." The Blonde said to the boys who were watching the dancers now.

"She's our flatmate. Got pretty lucky. She's French, so she walks around in her knickers all day." He brought up her nationality like it correlated to her frisky at home attire.

"Guido here's in love with her." He patted the sad faced mans shoulder. None of the marauders said anything, so he continued on, dropping his cigarette to the gravel and twisting his foot over it.

"Want some cognac?" The blonde pulled out a plain silver flask, taking a swing before offering it out, almost testingly. He noticed their looks of confusion.

The three were sixteen or fifteen, most only exposed to wizarding culture besides Remus, who has isolated from both. They didn't know some muggle type of brandy. The most they knew of brandy was the Dragon Barrel kind. The only type of alcohol they had seen was their mother's nettle, elf-made wine or their father's paulopabita's fishy ale. At parties the most they could smuggle in was firewhiskey, chocolate liquer, and berry ocky rot.

"Say, where are you lot from?" He pulled back his flask, squinting his eyes, now taking in most of their attire that looked dated, not fitting into the modern city.

"We're visiting from South Devon." James said, making knowing eye contact with Sirius.

"Brit from South Devon know what cognac is." The blonde challenged back.

"Unless there's some cult in South Devon, I don't know about." He put emphasis on the town's name.

"We go to a private school in Scotland." Sirius tried an excuse to defuse the guy's growing judgment.

"Oh... you're some private school posh." He was picking a fight and everyone could see it.

"And what the fuck is his problem?" He pointed up to the looming Remus, who hadn't spoken once. Remus without a book in hand, and the costume of a school uniform, only an imminent figure at night, looked like a gruff bully who would grow to be an intimating bouncer.

"I mean god did you fucking do that to yourself?" He challenged Remus, taking the subject of the scars. "It looks fucking sickening."

The song had changed seconds before to the more quiet B-A-B-Y. Quite enough for Ana to hear the blonde and come storming over.

"Hey, watch your fucking mouth." She cut through Remus, pushing the blonde back into the car, hard. The group in the hill stood up, now confused as to the sudden violent nature of the stranger's interactions.

Once Lily had seen Anastasia get mad, she immediately went to defend her friend, only to be held back by Marlene and Mary.

"Woah handsy lass." He gasped, letting out a confident chuckled. "Oh my gosh, did you do that to her, too?" He looked up at Remus.

Ana never felt insecure about the scars on her body. Parts of her wished she did, so that humility would cover up all the sadness that came with them. They were more so reminders of what she had lost, what she had felt. And now that the scars were so faint, only the deepest ones had white markings across her fair skin. She felt guilt that she would heal and when she was old, they would be unrecognizable. Barely there, only people who had seen her young and herself would know she had them, while her parent would be forever scared with theirs. The fading felt a reminder of what she was forgetting.

When she heard the asshole of a muggle accuse Remus of inflicting them on her. To compare the boy she admired to some disgusting murder left her in a blinding rage.