Marigold's head was perched up by her hand throughout breakfast. She yawned, pushing the porridge around in it's bowl until it grew cold.
"First meeting's today," Angelina spoke in a hushed tone, "Hermione told me we need to all meet on the seventh floor: by that tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. Five o' clock."
Marigold shut her eyes, groaning quietly. She was exhausted. She'd had another nightmare about Cedric that woke her at three in the morning - it took her nearly two hours to fall back to sleep, trying to push the image of his face from the forefront of her mind.
They had Harry Potter's underground defense meeting after classes but her and George were writing their potions practical the next day and Marigold knew that they both desperately needed to study for it if they wanted any chance of passing.
Before she could sulk any more, the grand clock in the Great Hall rung ten to nine. Marigold pushed her untouched breakfast away from her and stood to join Elin, making their way to Care of Magical Creatures.
Between watching Professor Grubbly-Plank extract treacle from a Glumbumble and the nap against her desk in History of Magic, the school day went by quickly and soon Marigold, Elin and the Slytherins were walking back from the Astronomy tower. Marigold watched as Blaise Zabini passed them.
"Hey," She said, "Does Bernie still have that thing going on with Zabini?"
Elin shrugged, popping a multivitamin gummy-bear, "I don't know actually."
It was only three o' clock when they met everybody back in the Great Hall where afternoon tea was being served. Marigold's stomach was growling, by lunch she still hadn't been feeling any better than at breakfast and barely touched her shepard's pie. She leaned over and picked up a chicken sandwich, biting into it happily.
"You said five o' clock for the Defense meeting, right?" She asked Angelina around a mouthful of sandwich, leaning over to pick up Angelina's goblet of pumpkin juice and taking a gulp.
Angelina eyed her with mock irritation, taking her goblet back and refilling it, "Yeah."
Marigold was quiet a moment, considering the amount of time before then, "Have you seen George?"
Angelina looked up, grinning, "Why?" She asked, insinuation dripping from her tone.
"We need to study for potions tomorrow or we're both going to fail and Snape will have our arses. That's why." She replied dramatically.
"Oh," Angelina deflated slightly, "Well last I saw him and Fred were at that bench in the quad by Trelawney's tower."
Marigold grabbed her bag off the seat and secured it over her shoulder, stopping to check that she'd packed all her Potions notes. "I'll catch you guys later then, at the meeting. I'll come with the twins."
The Divination tower was on the other side of the castle and Marigold chewed on the apple she'd picked up as she walked. A chilly Autumn breeze filled the castle and with each corridor she crossed, the castle became more deserted until she was alone in her trek towards the quad.
As Marigold neared the quad, she could make out the voices of the most troublesome trio she knew. The quad was bathed in sunlight and the table and bench the boys were sitting at was shaded by a tree growing out the castle's stone floor.
Marigold frowned as she neared them, George had his head against the table and was groaning painfully. Lee and Fred seemed unbothered by him.
Her eyes grew wide and she jogged to them, "George?"
She put a hand on his back, leaning over to examine him.
The table in front of them was scattered with multi-coloured wrappers and loose pieces of parchment with what Marigold recognized as notes on potions and spells scribbled across them.
"Hey, Goldie." Fred grinned, arranging a pile of yellow-wrapped sweets into a brown bag.
"Marigold! How goes it?" Lee chirped. Marigold looked at them incredulously.
George lifted his head weakly, "Marigold?"
She watched him, concerned, "Yeah, George it's me." She replied in a soft voice.
Taking his face into her hands gently, she was shocked by his sweaty appearance. Flushed cheeks, eyes rolling to the back of his head.
Marigold looked up to Fred and Lee, "And you two? Why haven't you taken him to Pomfrey?" She asked, disbelief dripping from her tone.
"Oh, he's alright." Fred said off-handedly.
"Yeah, 'm fine." George slurred, his head back to resting against the table.
Marigold grumbled, taking him by the arm, "I'm taking him to Pomfrey--"
Lee leaned over and shook George by the shoulder, George - with what looked like massive effort - stuck his hand out to Lee where he placed what looked like a half eaten fruit gummy. George brought the sweet to his mouth and began chewing. Marigold watched in shock as within a few moments he began to sit up, normal colour returning to his freckled face.
She reached up, wiping the hair off George's forehead to take a better look at him, "George?"
He placed a warm hand over hers, smiling. He liked the feeling of Marigold's cool hand on his face. "Fever Fudge." He said simply.
An exasperated look crossed her face and Marigold pulled her hand back, "Let me guess, this is one of your Wheezes products."
Fred grinned, "Yeah, told you he was alright."
Marigold sighed deeply, the worry easing from her chest, "Could've given me a heads-up, you know."
George smiled down at Marigold, watching as the concern dissipated from her features.
"May I offer you..." Fred glanced around the table until he found the packet he was searching for, picking it up and offering it to Marigold, "A Puking Pastille?"
Marigold laughed and went to stand, "Oh, no thanks. I just ate actually ... and as much as vomiting sounds like a bucketload of fun, your brother and I have potions to do."
"How can I go study potions, I'm still recovering!" George responded dramatically, taking Marigold's hand back into his and pressing it against his forehead, "Still kind of feverish don't you think?"
"Yeah," Fred agreed, nodding with exaggeration, "Still looks a bit green to me. We have twin telepathy, I can tell these sort of things. His pain is my pain, if you get me."
Marigold laughed him off, ignoring the flutter of her heart with her hand in George's, "Unless your twin telepathy is going to give George the answers during the practical tomorrow, I suggest you--" She looked pointedly at George, "--get off your arse. We only have an hour and a half."
Lee looked up from sorting through the abundance of sweets on the table, "Where is the meeting, by the way?"
"Ang said seventh floor, opposite some tapestry of ..." Marigold fought to remember the name of the wizard on the tapestry, "I can't remember his name."
"Barnabas the Barmy?" Lee offered.
Marigold nodded, "That's the one."
She turned to meet George's eyes again. "Come on, you. Let's go study in the library."
He pretended to hesitate, "If we must." He sighed, turning to Lee and Fred, "I'll see you lads at the meeting."
When they arrived, the library was more crowded than Marigold had seen it all week. She recognised most of the students as seventh years, all with their potions textbooks open in front of them.
George's height offered him the advantage of spotting an open table near the back of the room. They sat and Marigold lugged the heavy-weight textbook from her bag. "You shouldn't carry that heavy thing around, you know." George remarked.
Marigold chuckled at him, "What are you, a chiropractor?"
His eyebrows furrowed in a way that Marigold definitely did not find endearing, "A what?" He asked.
Purebloods, she thought to herself. "It's a muggle doctor that looks after peoples joints and that kind of thing."
"Oh, so you're a ..." George looked like he was fighting to find the appropriate words, "I mean your parents are--"
"I'm a half-blood." She smiled, and he visibly relaxed.
"Right."
For a moment their eyes met and silence fell between them. Marigold was the first to break it, "We should ..." She motioned towards the textbook, "Get learning."
George nodded, collecting himself. "Yeah, yeah ... we should."
Over the next hour and a half, the two sat crammed in the corner of the library, reciting and re-reciting lists of ingredients, methods of mixing groonroot with dragon blood - memorising the exact measurements of each component.
The evening light had started to reach through the library windows - in the distance, the burnt orange sun could be seen from their table. Somehow, the library had grown quieter - despite the same number of students occupying it's tables.
"After the root, we have to stir it anti-clockwise twice then ..." George's voice began to fade, Marigold watched as his knee bounced under the table. When he started doing that, she knew the Weasley twin was growing restless.
"Hey," she placed a gentle hand on his wrist, "I think we should get going. We already know most of the work, we can look at it again tomorrow during lunch."
Glancing across the library to the grandfather clock that read four-thirty, George nodded. Reluctant to lose the warmth of Marigold's hand against his wrist, he hesitated before reaching for his bag. "Right."
Marigold did the same. She lifted the heavy potions textbook off the table again, slipping it into her bag and was about to sling it over her shoulder when George's wide, freckled hand beat her to it.
She looked up at him as he tossed her bag over his shoulder with ease. "I told you, you shouldn't be carrying this around."
"George," She sent him a serious look, "You can't carry two bags, I'm alright with carrying my--"
But George paid her arguments no mind, instead he stepped quickly ahead of her. "Come on, Goldie. Let me be a gentlemen for five minutes, I need the ego boost."
At that, Marigold couldn't help but laugh. "The last thing you need, George Weasley, is an ego boost."
"Maybe," they crossed the threshold, leaving the library behind and wandering deeper into the castle corridors, "But at least you won't need a chironcopter."
A warm blush covered her cheeks, Marigold made no move to correct his terminology. Instead, she picked up the speed in her step to keep up with George's long strides. "Well, either way, thanks Weasley."
"Nothing to it, Knight."
Nearing the seventh floor tapestry, the chatter of conversation grew louder. When Marigold and George turned the corner, they found it full of the students they'd seen at the Hogs Head less than a week prior.
Marigold pushed onto her toes to get a look over the heads of the mass of students to identify Angelina or Elin.
"What's Harry playing at?" George wondered aloud, "Are we having this meeting out here in the corridor?"
George was making a good point. They were in the right place but Marigold couldn't see a door to a classroom anywhere down the hallway, and it seemed everyone else was thinking the same thing.
It was already ten past five and people were about to start leaving when Hermione came running down the corridor, "Sorry! Just one minute."
The crowd watched curiously as Hermione paced up and down in front of the wall to their left, mumbling under her breath. On her third go-around, a set of large oak doors formed in the wall they were facing and Marigold's jaw fell open in awe.
Harry Potter fought through the crowd to the front, pulling them open using the large brass knobs to reveal a spacious fire-lit room. Velvet cushions lined the floor around them as Marigold and George walked in together: at the end of the room was a long table with different magical objects of silver and gold set atop it, some whirring noisily while others sat still.
"Come, Goldie," she felt George's warm hand on the space between her shoulder blades, "Let's grab a cushion."
The cushions were large enough for two people to fit on easily, so Marigold grabbed one for her and George and another for when Angelina and Fred arrived - which wasn't long after. Marigold recognized the mesmerized expression on Angelina's face as she entered with Fred and Lee, she called them over.
Students from all houses and years were filing in through the entrance, the fireplaces created a warm ambience and low-hanging chandeliers were sparkling in the light. George was staring down at Marigold, her eyes were wide as she took in the room. She was wearing a small smile - her mouth still slightly open in amazement.
Fred elbowed him lightly from his spot on the cushion beside George, sending him a smug look. "Oy, mate, you're staring."
George blushed lightly and shoved his brother off the edge of the cushion, laughing, "Butt out." Fred pounced on his brother, pushing him right back.
"Well," the twins were interrupted as Harry addressed the group, Marigold glanced back to see the last of the students enter the room and the large oak door pulled closed behind them. "This is the place we've found for practice sessions, you've obviously all found it okay."
"It's fantastic!" Cho, who Marigold recognized as the Ravenclaw Cedric used to date, said aloud. Marigold couldn't agree more.
"It's bizarre," She heard Fred say from the other side of George, "We once hid from Filch in here, remember, George? But it was just a broomstick cupboard then."
"Oh, yeah, I forgot about that."
Harry was about to start talking again when Hermione interrupted him, "I think we ought to elect a leader."
"I thought Harry's leader?" Cho asked.
"Yes," Hermione replied, "But we ought to vote on it properly. It makes it formal and it gives him authority. So, everyone who thinks Harry should be our leader raise your hand."
Marigold lifted her hand, along with all the students sitting around her - she noticed Zach sitting nearby, he hesitated for a moment before raising his own hand. She looked away from him, back to Harry.
"Right, so Harry's officially leader," Hermione announced happily.
Harry's face was bright red behind his glasses, "Right, thanks--"
"We should also think of a name." Hermione interrupted again.
Marigold leaned over to whisper to Angelina, "That Hermione sure can talk."
Angelina chuckled and nodded, "She's famous for it."
Suggestions of names flew around the room, eventually the group agreed on Dumbledore's Army - the DA for short.
"All in favour of the DA?" Hermione asked bossily, sitting up on her cushion to count the votes. "That's a majority, motion passed!"
She stood to pin the piece of parchment they'd signed the previous Saturday against the wall - now with a heading in Hermione's neat handwriting: Dumbledore's Army.
"Right," Harry said when he was sure Hermione wasn't going to interrupt him again, "We should get practicing. I was thinking we should start with Expelliarmus, you know, the Disarming Charm. It's basic but very useful."
Marigold reached into her robes pocket to pull out her wand, Angelina did the same.
"I reckon we all divide into pairs and practice."
George was on his feet first, offering a hand to Marigold. She smiled up at him, taking it, and he pulled her up.
Marigold bit the inside of her cheek, she felt awkward wanting to ask George to be her partner when they'd already spent all afternoon together. Her hand slipped slowly from his, the blood rushing to her cheeks.
Marigold shook the thoughts from her head, she was being idiotic. She was dealing with enough, the last thing she wanted was to have to manage a school-girl crush.
George, however, was less hesitant: "So, how about it, Knight?" He looked down at Marigold, "Partners--?"
"Goldie?" A voice interrupted George, Marigold turned to find Zach barely a foot from her. Her stomach gave a jolt and she grabbed lightly onto George's wrist without realizing.
"Zach," she replied kindly, "Doing okay?"
He nodded, moving his black fringe out of his eyes. Zach's gaze dropped onto Marigold's fingers wrapped around George's wrist before returning back to her face. George was watching him with disfavour, moments from pulling Marigold away where they could practice in peace.
"Could we talk for a sec?" Zach asked, feeling uneasy under George's heavy stare.
Marigold nodded, sliding her hand off George's wrist "I'll be right back," she told him before following Zach to a quieter corner.
"I just wanted to apologize, Goldie," He said when they reached an open spot by the door, "I didn't want to upset you. I just have questions for Harry about Ced, some things that aren't so clear."
Marigold stiffened, she didn't much want to talk about what happened the previous weekend, but she nodded all the same. "Alls forgiven, Zach."
"Thanks ..." Zach nodded, reaching into his robes to pull out his wand, "Want to practice together?"
She smiled slightly, nodding, "Sure."
Across the room, George was leaned back uncomfortably - watching them. Barely concentrating on Fred, his then practising partner, George was almost blasted off his feet from the strength of the spell Fred sent his way, his wand flying through the air where he caught it.
"If I were the Dark Lord, you'd be finished, mate." Fred teased, tossing George's wand back at him.
He grinned, trying to push down the blush of knowing he'd been caught. "I was going easy on you, Freddie, felt bad that you got the ugly genes."
Fred scoffed at him, "You wish."
George elected to ignore Marigold and Zach, forcing his eyes forward when he wanted to look. The brothers dodged and sent spells at each other, both out of breath by the end.
"Whoever wins this round has to be the tester for the Fainting Fancies." Fred said, tightening his grip on his wand.
George sent him an incredulous look, "Oy, I had to eat that Fever Fudge earlier--" He swerved to avoid Neville's spell that narrowly missed his forehead.
Neville sent him an apologetic smile, George noticed the nervous look on Ginny's face. By some wonder, she'd wound up as Neville's partner.
George laughed, pointing out her expression to Fred who too leaned over, cackling. Ginny flipped them the middle finger before turning back to Neville.
"Might not have a little sister after this." He mused.
Across the room, Marigold had just disarmed Zach for the third time. She caught his wand before it hit the ground, "At least you're a better Chaser than a disarmer, Smith." She grinned.
He was about to retort when Harry called them to sit again. Zach took his wand from Marigold, "This isn't over. Be prepared to eat your words."
She laughed, "I'll be prepared, don't be late to practice on Monday."
Marigold flopped down onto the cushion next to Angelina, she motioned to Zach with her head, "What'd he want?"
"Wanted to apologize about last week."
"And I bet you forgave him." Angelina shook her head in disbelief.
Marigold shrugged, "What else was I supposed to do? Spit on him? I have to face him at practice, I'd rather things weren't awkward."
"I don't like how he spoke about Ced."
Marigold watched Angelina curiously, she hadn't mentioned Cedric's passing almost at all. Marigold supposed she was dealing with it in her own way just like she was. But it did feel good to be validated that her feelings about Zach's words weren't due to her own oversensitivity.
She placed a hand over Angelina's, "Ced wouldn't want us to hold grudges." She said quietly.
Angelina's eyes met Marigold's for a moment, but she didn't reply.
"Everyone did really well, I hope you all learnt something about disarming that you didn't know before," Harry spoke from where he was standing at the front of the room, "We'll let you guys know about when the next lesson is ... that's, um, that's it I guess."
Marigold stood, looping her arm with Angelina's, "Let's go get something to eat, I'm starving."
Angelina nodded and they followed the group back through the tall oak doors.
__________
The Hufflepuff dorm room would've been pitch black if it weren't for the faint light of the North Tower that shone through Marigold's bedside window.
Her eyes were wide open in the darkness, blinking up at the ceiling she couldn't see. Elin was snoring lightly, the sound mixing with Spider's purring and Marigold's own shuffling. The alarm clock on the bedside table told her that it was almost midnight.
She was thinking about Cedric, again. About when they were younger. Marigold always loved telling people how they met because it really was a good story: the Diggory's had bought the house opposite the Knight's. Cedric had gotten a broomstick for Christmas - not a proper one, he was still too young - but one that flew only six or so feet off the ground, and he was flying up and down his front lawn on it. Somehow, he'd lost control of the little broom and flew across the street, right into the Knight's porch: crashing head first into Fiona's potted plants that sat perfectly maintained atop the windowsill.
Marigold opened the front door to find Cedric on the floor covered head to toe in soil, shards of the broken pots and roots of plant covering the porch. She'd laughed at him until he started to cry.
When she realized she'd upset him, Marigold crouched down, pulled off her jersey and used it to dab his face. Once he'd calmed down, he promised Marigold a go on his broom if she didn't tell on him. Marigold agreed and they spent the whole afternoon flying up and down between their houses on Cedric's tiny broomstick.
They were out there for hours, the British sunshine glaring down at them. Only after their parents arrived home was Cedric forced into a bath and Marigold tasked with helping Fiona repot what survived of her potted plants. It only took that one afternoon and Marigold and Cedric were joined at the hip. They went everywhere and did everything together until the day their Hogwarts letters came, and then things just got better.
Marigold swallowed hard, she felt her throat tightening. Her eyes were glossy but she didn't cry. Since Cedric's death, Marigold had cried a total of two times: the day of and the morning after.
Thereafter, the urge to cry had been replaced by a cold numbness that manifested as restless nausea in the pit of her stomach. She hadn't stopped feeling sick for three months.
Marigold turned over in bed and pulled her covers closer up to her neck, willing herself to push all thoughts away - focusing only on the tick of her alarm clock.
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we're almost at 1k, thank you for everything my angels <33 - mel