Rain pattered against the windowpane and two aqua eyes raised from the parchment to watch the droplets splash into the glass. Quidditch practice had been cancelled due to the heavy downpour. The captain James Potter had done it begrudgingly, giving the team sheets of tactics to go over to be prepared for the following week's practice. Not that she could blame him for being so fervent in wanting to win; they lost to Slytherin every year and it was awful. Just once it'd be nice to touch the shining trophy and beam as the camera clicked to put in the school's yearbook.
However, no one seemed to be taking James seriously, as her common room was deserted. There had been a trip to Hogsmeade earlier that day and now the students were hiding in the Three Broomsticks or various other shops to avoid the rain. It was only seven PM, so there was plenty of time before the common room would fill up again. Marlene never minded the rain, but with a good book sitting on the coffee table begging to be read, how could she bring herself to neglect it? Especially with an empty common room and a newly opened batch of Honeydukes finest fudge and several butterbeers?
The truth was, she could not, setting down the paper and picking up her hard-cover novel. So there she was, on a Friday night, her nose stuck in a copy of "Great Expectations" so worn at its binding that it must've been opened and closed a hundred times. It was one of her absolute favorites; one she could read and take something new from it each time she read. That was the best kind of book, in her opinion, the kind that gave you the best gift of all. Perspective. She was snuggled into the corner of one of the numerous scarlet couches, eyes falling to the page in anticipation.
The velvet of the cushions was soft against her smooth legs, wearing only cotton short shorts with dark gray and light blue stripes on the outside, gray with light blue polka dots on the inside and lining the pockets. One was crossed Indian style, the other stretched along the couch, knee bent and naked foot flat. Her toenails were painted bright purple and her foot had a very high arch on it; which gave her a huge advantage in dancing. On her top she wore a oversized blue sweatshirt that fell off her shoulders and exposed the tops of her black bra straps, one of which was covered by her straight hair pushed to the side, leaving the opposite side of her neck bare. She had on no make-up, but hardly wore any make-up unless she felt in the mood, which was not one of those times.
No one would be back for hours, anyway. Marlie could look as silly as she wanted. Her sleeves fell over her hands, too long just the way she liked them. She was comfortable, eating her chocolate like any girl loved to, and drinking her butterbeer like a guy. No one was around, so who cared about manners? Plus she'd finished nearly all of her homework for that weekend already, so it was her little reward to herself. She'd dance it off later anyway. Yes, she was very content at the moment, and she only felt a tinsy bit guilty for leaving her friends.
They'd asked her to come along, of course, but she'd declined, surprising them all. Sometimes, she got into these sorts of moods. Where she needed a nice, quiet space instead of the hustling atomosphere she was accustomed to. This was where she could sit and think about everyone and everything. The past, the present, the future. Or if she wanted to, she could pick up a book like she had now and escape into a world where there were dashing young men in tailcoats and refined little ladies in petticoats. Ones that courted and kissed and loved without any second thoughts, because that was how love was supposed to be.
Smiling to herself in a soft, almost sad way that Marlene reserved only for her books and empty common rooms, she read as Pip confessed his love for Estella to the dying Magwitch. With this, she sighed in a loving, understanding sort of way. The way that only books and movies that seem to mirror your precise predicament make you. Pip wanted Estella. She wanted Remus. Maybe not the same way, maybe not to the same extent, but still. "Oh, Pip. If there ever was a man who knew unrequited love, it was you," she found herself saying out loud.