𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄
chapter five; The Sincerity Of Femininity
" Sometimes, all you need is a gut feeling. "

  SALEM HAD JUST met her father. Okay, sure, met was a strong word— she'd seen him and run away the second he spoke, but it was him. Once again, there wasn't hard proof so being sure wasn't really the right thing to call it, but something instinctual told the girl Roman was her father.

  In short, the entire situation was not only impulsive, but there was little to no true facts to go on here. But, as known by everyone over the age of 25, this explained most (if not all) things teenagers did, and so what effect did these realities have on Salem Gerard? Nothing. They didn't soften the blow or suddenly grant her the ability to reel in all emotions, no.

  Salem was still locked in her dorm room, borderline hyperventilating, and swearing to God or Merlin that if her tears didn't stay in her fucking eyes, she'd lose it.

  "Sal?" A gentle knocking rapped on the door behind Salem, "Are you alright?"

  "I'm fine, Evans, just got really fucking cold outside," Salem lied poorly, hitting her head against the wood at this.

  Lily frowned, leaning against the door and sliding down it.

  "You're still there, aren't you?"

  "Yeah."

  "We're not friends, you don't have to pretend like you care."

  "We may not talk but we're Gryffindors," Lily said, eyebrows knitting tightly, "We're sort of bound to interact."

  "Not like this."

  "Well, what's got you so upset?"

  "That's private."

  Lily frowned deeper, and pulled her knees to her chest. She wasn't sure what to say next, wanting to help but not knowing how to approach it. Caring was in her blood, but Salem was worse than a brick wall. She wasn't only impenetrable, she repelled assistance.

  "Sorry," Salem's voice gently slipped into the hall, "I'm being a dickhead."

  "That's alright," Lily responded, watching from above as people began filling the common room. "And, for the record, you aren't. I've dealt with my fair share of rude, inconsiderate, dicks, and you're actually really nice, Sal."

  Salem Gerard momentarily disregarded that Lily Evans was the ex of her late-night secret chess partner. It didn't matter that Salem had previously been willing to dig to the center of the earth to discover what had broken them up or why Lily had yelled at James so harshly. Because Lily was nice.

  Like the kind that held no ulterior motives, pure to the core, a smile beaming through the wooden door, kind of nice that Salem usually couldn't stomach.

  "You're alright, Evans."

  "Thanks," Lily smiled softly, her eyes catching a very confused Dottie trotting up the steps, "Dot's here."

  Salem sighed as she heaved herself up, opening the door only for Lily to tumble backward. Instead of the awkward encounter that would've come had it been anyone else, the redheads bubbled over in laughter simultaneously. Dottie found herself smiling slightly at the scene, happier than words could describe that Same had finally caved in finding other friendships, but a part of her knew it would be a mess.

  Whatever happened between Lily and James, whatever would happen between Salem and James or Salem and Lily, it was never a good idea to put oneself in the center of a broken relationship, and that was precisely where Salem had landed on accident.

  "Hi," Dottie said with a laugh, watching Salem offer a hand to help Lily up, "You two sort of disappeared."

  "Got lost in Honeydukes," Lily smiled genuinely, tucking her hair behind her ear, "I should go find Marlene, make sure she hasn't spent all of her money."

  "Yeah, she's refused to leave Gladrags."

  "Oh no," Lily mumbled, "Thanks for hanging out with us today."

  "Thanks for making me try an acid pop in a cauldron cake."  

  "Oh, that's rank," Dottie said, eyes dancing between the redheads who were laughing already, "Thanks for inviting us, Lily."

  "You're welcome to join us anytime," Lily said genuinely and with one last smile, she was gone.

  "So. . ?"

  "Merlin, Dot, I have so much to tell you."

⥊

  "Reckon you're just too nosy for your own good."

  "Need I remind you, Remus, my nosy-ness is the reason we found the three-eyed witch passage?"

  "That was an accident—!"

  James shook his head, blocking out Sirius and Remus' bickering as he entered the portrait hole. Sirius had been hung up on Salem Gerard's short and bitter trip to the Three Broomsticks, while Remus had made it clear it was none of their business.

  James, personally, was indifferent. Sure, he felt bad about the whole thing, but clearly not bad enough to land on the sides of the spectrum Sirius and Remus represented.

  Ever since the fateful incident in second year, Sirius made it clear he wanted to actively make sure nothing else bad happened to Salem. Countless rumors had been ended, pranks by those less creative than the Marauders crumbled in his palm. Remus, opposingly, worked equally as hard to keep himself and his three friends as removed from Salem's life as possible. Interfering is what landed them in the predicament in the first place, and getting involved again would only worsen things.

  "You alright?" Peter asked James quietly, despite the common room being nearly empty— a few students trickling into their respective dorms.

  "Yeah," James said all too quickly, smiling at his mate, "Gerard's not my preferred topic of conversation."

  Peter laughed and agreed eagerly, and the only thing that halted Sirius' argument about morals was James flopping onto the couch.

  "Prongsy, you can't sleep on the sofa, you'll complain about your back."

  "When did you become my mother, Pads?"

  "When we signed the adoption papers, sorry, did you forget?" Sirius said, feigning confusion as James lifted his head from the cushions. He relaxed into a boyish grin, shoving a hand in his jacket pocket, "Gonna play some chess?"

  "No, it's her turn," James groaned, flipping onto his back and stretching out, "I should sleep so she can."

  "How romantic."

  "Shove off," James chuckled, throwing a pillow at Sirius. The boy dodged it swiftly, but unfortunately, this made the thing land directly in the flames of the fireplace.

  Had this been any other group of students, maybe there would've been a panic. Some sort of chaos, but the Marauders had done this one too many times and Remus put the fire out, passing the pillow to Peter who dried it as Sirius re-ignited the fireplace, just as James fluffed the pillow back onto the sofa.

  "We should go to bed before we set the rug on fire. Again."

  "Oh, don't remind me," Sirius groaned, "Minnie still hasn't let me live it down."

  "Because you nearly set all of Gryffindor Tower on fire!"

  "Now you're just exaggerating."

  And just like that, Remus and Sirius were back to bickering.

⥊

  Dottie Fitzgerald had clung to every last one of Salem's words. The conversation would lull when a roommate entered, but sprung right back up when they claimed isolation again. She had no time to be angry Salem had gone to see Roman by herself, and regardless it was on Salem's terms. 

  "So, what are you going to do?"

  "Never, ever go to the Three Broomsticks?"

  "Sal," Dottie sighed as the redhead groaned, "What about answers, you know, closure so this wound can close."

  "There's no wound, Dot, I don't even know if he's my real, legitimate father. All I have is a gut feeling."

  "Sometimes, all you need is a gut feeling."

  Salem rolled her eyes and flashed one of their roommates a tight-lipped smile as she entered the room. They'd been holed up for a while, and the redhead got the gist that now was the time everyone decided to go to bed, effectively ending the conversation surrounding Roman.

  "And. . . what about Lily and James?"

  "I suppose Lily's my friend now," Salem mumbled to herself, shrugging, "James is some bloke I play chess with— mind you, he doesn't know it's me."

  "So, if it came down to it—"

  "What, like separated parents and their child?" Salem said amusedly, "There won't ever have to be a choice, Dot, no arguments to pick sides on. The chances are slim to none, and there're only six months of school left, then I'll never see either of them ever again."

  "I thought you were friends with Lily?"

  "I am," She nodded, "But not like you, we'll stay in touch when I'm sending people to Azkaban and you're taming dragons wherever, but no one else is worth the time."

  "That's almost sweet," Dottie smiled, patting the area over her heart, "Now go play chess so we can sleep."

  "You don't have to stay up for me."

  "With our luck, you'd get expelled or eaten by the giant squid."

  "In the common room?"

  "Have you ever met us?"

  "Alright, I'll be quick."

  Salem was almost nervous she was venturing to the chess Rendevous so early. Everyone had just gone to bed, moments ago, and if she was spotted it was all over. And yet these nerves, the quickening of her heartbeat and the shaky breaths all ignited excitement in her.

  So she did it carelessly. 

  Salem took her time in pushing a chess piece to a new place, before re-reading James' note. And, perhaps it was the feeling of living on the edge, or— as most things tended to— it came back to the interaction with Roman, Salem was suddenly sure of her response.

  It was a shot in the dark, but it was so easy to be ballsy with a mask. Salem creased the parchment and tucked it beneath the chessboard, tapping her fingers on the table for a long moment.

  This was such a bizarre situation. Chess with a boy who was one-fourth of the reason she had such a shitty experience in Hogwarts as a whole. Wanting to dig deeper into James Potter, find out things no one else knew. Admittedly, the first question had selfish motives, but she was curious as well.

  Were they young? Old? Proper? Strict? Salem figured they were lenient, kind, a tight-knight family that revolved around the little rascal that was James Potter.

  But she wouldn't know until the following night, so as a large yawn escaped unallowed, Salem decided to retire to her own dorm. 

  Dottie was still awake but curled in Salem's bed so tightly the redhead found no point in making her move. They still tended to share beds like little kids, the warmth of a friend scaring away any nightmarish demons that would creep up in the dark. The raven-haired girl didn't protest as her best friend crawled beneath the comforter, their limbs entangling without much thought. 

  And as Salem's head sunk into the feathery pillow, her mind drifting off into sleep, so too did the swirling worries of fathers and monsters in the shape of teenage boys with big, brown eyes, the troubles festering from men tumbling from her mind in the softness of the love that had been shared between girls on that January day.

( AUTHOR'S NOTE. )
literally. . . the girl love in this book. . .
uGH it wasn't even PLANNED 
it's just HAPPENING
and I LOVE IT