𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄
chapter four; Gryffindor Girls Day
" Oh, here comes the melodrama. "

  SALEM HAD NEVER been the kind of girl to spend more than thirty seconds thinking about a guy. This, once again, may have been thanks to her dear old dad but in her mind, it was due to her independence and the newly popular idea of 'feminism'. 

  Which is why the thin piece of paper weighed her pocket down like it was a ten-ton weight. She had trouble getting the idea of James out of her head, not in some bullshit romantic way, in the way of intrigue. The same reason she watched students play chess or Dottie work out Arithmatcy.

  James was interesting. He was a neurological stimulation that she needed.

  But it still felt shitty.

  More so because she couldn't decide whether to give him permission to hunt for her. Salem knew she didn't want him to find her, never, not in a million years. But she also didn't think he could.

  What did he have to go off of? Her handwriting and some behavioral language, not that he'd be clever enough to use those to his advantage. This bundled with their history, Salem would be the last person on the Marauders' list of suspects.

  "Sal!"

  Salem loved Dottie, she truly did, the raven-haired Gryffindor was her best and only friend by choice. But sometimes, Salem wished Dottie knew how to relax, stay silent, take a break from energy. 

  "Dot!"

  Dottie rolled her eyes at Salem's less-enthusiastic exclamation, but this didn't dampen her mood. No, the girl knew how to handle Salem's moods, the ups-and-downs of being friends with a Gerard, so she was still smiling as she slowed to a halt.

  "Dorcas and Marlene invited us to Hogsmeade."

  "I thought we were trying to find. . . Roman."

  "We are, but y' know, maybe it's a good idea to hang out with people before, or after," Dottie explained, "To relax you or take your mind off of. . . whatever happens."

  "Since when do you talk to Meadowes or McKinnon?"

  "Since they asked us to go to Hogsmeade with them," Dottie said dully, "Come on, Sal, it's our last year and we haven't hung out with that many other people."

  "Fine," Salem sighed, which made Dottie smile again, "If I get tired of them I'm leaving."

  "This isn't a hostage situation, you still have your own free will."

  "Feels like a hostage situation."

  "Oh, here comes the melodrama."

⥊

  The redhead had chosen her leather jacket armor for the afternoon. She'd put on, debatably, too many accessories, jingling with every step. But she was okay with that.

  Until realizing Dottie fit in perfectly with the other Gryffindor girls— that were more abundant than just Dorcas and Marlene.

  It felt as though every seventh year Gryffindor girl had congregated to go to Hogsmeade, dressing in cute jumpers and neat jackets, their hair straightened and tucked behind their ears with middle parts. Light makeup, if any at all, dainty jewelry from mother or fathers.

  And then there was Salem.

  Salem with the leather jacket and the boots and the necklaces and bracelets and unruly curls, half of which thrown into a bun on the top of her head. 

  But she didn't let her discomfort show.

  "Hey, I'm glad you guys are coming today," Marlene smiled, somehow finding Dottie and Salem through the crowd, "I swear, we've been trying to bring you two forever."

  "We're usually not very social beings," Dottie smiled, "But we were wanting to take a Hogsmeade trip today."

  "Fancy that," Dorcas joined the conversation, falling in step with Salem— who jumped at the sudden intrusion.

  "You're both welcome to come anytime," Marlene continued, "All the girls are."

  "Hey."

  Salem hadn't anticipated how seeing Lily Evans would make her feel. It wasn't like she had a reason to be uncomfortable around the girl, it was more the festering curiosity had involved Lily Evans and now seeing the redhead made Salem feel strange about wanting to dig places she didn't belong.

  "Hey," Salem spoke up before Dottie could, shocking the raven-haired girl greatly.

  "I love your jacket," Lily complimented, her eyes lighting up just slightly as if she'd been wanting to tell Salem that forever.

  "Oh, thanks," Salem said, attempting to conceal her shock, "It was my Mum's."

  "So it's vintage? Oh— not that your mum's old—"

  "No, totally vintage," The Gerard girl cut Lily off swiftly, a grin of her own, "She got it in the 60s, wore it to a bunch of protests."

  "Holy shit, that's awesome."

  Dottie simply sighed, as once one got Salem talking about that damn jacket, there was no stopping her.

⥊

  It was in Honeydukes when Salem began to struggle under the weight of her and Dottie's later mission. She'd been able to enjoy herself, mostly, Lily was easy to talk to and respected the fact that Salem hated crowds. 

  But Salem grew anxious.

  About her father and the prospect of actually going into the Three Broomsticks. She didn't know what to expect, what he'd look like or talk like or say if she flat out called him 'dad'.

  "Are you okay?" Lily asked, her freshly plucked brows pinching together as she looked down at Salem.

  "I'm fine, yeah," Salem said, snapping out of her trance and holding onto a bag of gumballs tighter than intended, "Dot and I just have to do something really quick, we'll see you back in the common room?"

  "Yeah," Lily smiled, waving as Salem rushed from Honeydukes, down the ways a bit, and halted hard in front of the Three Broomsticks.

  She wanted to find Dottie. Didn't want to face the unknown territory alone, but Salem thought if she had to waste one more fucking minute, her heart would tear and her brain would explode and this would be good for nobody.

  So she walked in.

  It was busy, for a Saturday afternoon. Not that Salem had much to compare it to, the girl slowly tugged off her scarf but kept it tightly held in her hands.

  "Is that Gerard?"

  Sirius and James whipped their heads to where Remus was looking, confirming the boy's theory. Salem Gerard was loitering in just about the center of the building, alone, her hair cascading against her black jacket, a Gryffindor scarf nearly trailing the ground as she prepared for another, unsure step.

  "Yeah," Sirius responded, scooting forward but being sure not to knock his butterbeer over, "The hell is she doing here alone?"

  "Dunno," James responded this time, "She looks lost."

  "Maybe she is."

  "Hello," Salem smiled kindly at a plump woman behind the bar, nervously scooting onto a stool. 

  "Hi," The woman said, a laugh sneaking out, "Your first time here?"

  "Yeah," Salem nodded her head, "Uh, weird. . . question, does someone named Roman Mayes work here?"

  "I sure do, what can I help you with?"

  Roman Mayes was a tall man (which seemed unfair due to Salem's short stature) with a strong build. He had a wide grin, it oozed charisma and comfort in his position behind the bar, in the juxtaposition of his classic lumberjack build one, broad shoulders, arms thicker than Salem's head, scruff dusted his strong jaw, leading right up to the mop of red curls.

  Red hair.

  Tens of thousands of people had red hair, but something about this seemed monumental to Salem. Perhaps it was the simple fact that her mother had boring, blonde locks, and she'd been searching for the spice that had created her scarlet strands forever.

  "Hello?" Roman asked, setting down a small towel he'd used to wipe down his hands, "Are you alright?"

  Salem nodded quickly, standing from her seat quicker. Roman watched with a raised eyebrow, the teen hurriedly throwing a jacket over her figure and tying the scarf around her neck as she rushed towards the exit. The door of the pub slammed shut behind her, not bothering any other patrons, aside from a very confused bartender and an intrigued group of students.

( AUTHOR'S NOTE. )
sO Roman's been introduced!
p.s. I'm proud of the names in this family?
Salem and Roman?? Idk, anyways
I love the idea of Gryffindor girls
hanging out?? trips to Hogsmeade??
going to quidditch games together??
Idk that's just mE