mckinninnon - Tumblr blog

[mckinninnon]

I’m sorry everybody I thought I was more ready to come back to all of this than I am. I’m sorry. I’m not giving up on Marlene yet, I just need a little more time. Sorry.

[mckinninnon]

A Fox in the Feverfew

@lightrfluid

Marlene saw a flash of orangish-red movement out of the corner of her eye and grinned. She kept her head down though and didn’t move or look closer; she didn’t want to scare the little fox away. This was its tenth visit in twelve days, the first three of which had been spread-out over a week and the rest all crammed together with steadily increasing frequency. It was almost like making a friend and Marlene had begun to look forward to the visits.

She didn’t get many visitors, not since she had planted the phoenix-ash fence anyway. She’d lost count of how long ago that had been; seasons she noted because each season was totally different out in the woods, but years? Years had started to trickle off her back like water and counting them was a chore that didn’t have a payoff. So she’d stopped, and now stuck to watching the seasons instead. It was more fruitful and less aggravating.

Aggravation was why she had made the ash-boundary; it didn’t keep out creatures like foxes, but it did wonders to cut down on visits from neighbors or wanderers. Marlene could never decide which she liked less. It was tedious to be interrupted by those who sought her aide; more often than not they were entitled brats who wanted her to solve their problems so they wouldn’t have to get their own hands dirty or use their brains. It was frightening and infuriating to be hounded by those who wanted to hunt her down, although lately she had started to think it was time to pick a fight with some fire-and-brimstone moralist just for the excitement -- but common sense held out, and she stayed in her garden. The phoenix-ash kept both sorts of seekers away more often than not but neither were why she had really planted it: that was her neighbors.

Marlene wasn’t the only witch in this forest.

Her new acquaintance was far from the only fox too, but this one had a particularly cheerful look to its features. It was quite young, or at least small, and she enjoyed watching it prowl her garden for both food and fun. She’d started leaving out snacks for it and now the sound of crunching told her that one of them was being tasted. Marlene took advantage of the distraction and moved away from her weeding. Leaving her tools where they were she moved with a slow, steady speed, the sort of pace that attracted the attention of few predators and triggered the flight of only the most skittish of prey. She made sure not to look at the fox at all. Instead she sat down with her back to it and settled back against the edge of her porch and closed her eyes.

Peeking out from under her lashes a few minutes later she saw that instead of running the fox had settled down for a nap on one of the sun-warmed stones at the foot of the feverfew. Marlene smiled. “Hello little fox,” she said, her voice a low and gentle murmur. “You are welcome in my garden. I give you leave to walk its paths.” Maybe the words would scare away the little creature, but she wanted to say them nonetheless: it was important to make things like that official when you kept a garden such as hers, and now even if the fox ran, when it came back it would be safe within her boundaries. She expected it to start, to scamper, to flee. But she expected that it would come back soon enough; it seemed to like it here.

She didn’t expect it to speak.

[mckinninnon]

“You’ve made your decision then?”

“I damn well have,” Marlene retorted. Her eyes flashed in a dangerous scowl as she stared Sirius down, or at least tried to. He wasn’t someone who backed-down easily but in this case she wasn’t going to be lightly brushed-off or distracted either. Her gaze did flicker after a moment, but that wasn’t because she was wavering in her resolution; she just couldn’t keep herself from glancing down at the insensate form huddled against the wall.

In truth neither she nor Sirius looked all that much better; both of them were sweaty, disheveled, and bloodstained. Marlene’s hair had slipped free of its confining braids and much of it now hung loose in a thick half-tangle along one side of her face. There was blood smeared across her cheek, no way of telling whose, and more on both her hands. Her cherry-wood wand glinted crimson where the rich wood was stained by an even brighter, darker color. But in comparison with the crumpled Death Eater they came off better in one respect: at least they were both still standing.

Marlene wrenched her eyes back to Sirius. She fought to stop her hands trembling and failed; giving up on that she raised her voice instead as if that could somehow hide her shakes. “You can’t possibly expect me not to tell Dumbledore what happened. Sirius, you – we – you tortured him!” She flung out her arm toward the unconscious Death Eater and the silver mask lying next to the battered wizard.

[mckinninnon]

‘The Princess Bride’ sentence meme

Send one to my muse for their reaction

“Sleep well. I’ll most likely kill you in the morning.”

“You’re trying to kidnap what I’ve rightfully stolen.”

“While you’re at it, why don’t you give me a nice paper cut and pour lemon juice on it?”

“They’re terribly comfortable. I think everyone will be wearing them in the future.”

“I can cope with torture.”

“Get used to disappointment.”

“You’ve made your decision then?”

“Frankly, I think the odds are slightly in your favor at hand fighting.”

“I would sooner destroy a stained glass window than an artist like yourself.”

“Am I going mad, or did the word “think” escape your lips?”

“Your vote of confidence is overwhelming.”

“I admit it, you are better than I am.”

“You never said anything about killing anyone.”

“You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”

“You mock my pain!”

“Truly, you have a dizzying intellect.”

“Do you always begin conversations this way?”

“This is true love; you think this happens every day?”

“Australia is entirely peopled with criminals!”

“There’s not a lot of money in revenge.”

“You mean you wish to surrender to me? Very well, I accept.”

“Anyone who says differently is selling something.”

“Anybody want a peanut?”

“I do not envy you the headache you will have when you awake. But for now, rest well and dream of large women.”

“Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while.”

“The battle of wits has begun.”

“I wasn’t nervous. Maybe I was a little bit concerned, but that’s not the same thing.”

“We’ll never succeed. We may as well die here.”

“Please understand I hold you in the highest respect.”

“Isn’t there any way you trust me?”

“You’re trying to trick me into giving away something. It won’t work.”

“I’ll explain, and I’ll use small words so that you’ll be sure to understand, you warthog faced buffoon.”

“I told you I would always come for you. Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“I’m not saying I’d like to build a summer home here, but the trees are actually quite lovely.”

“You can die slowly, cut into a thousand pieces.”

“What hideous sin have you committed lately?”

“Yes, you’re very smart. Shut up.”

“There’s a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. It would be a pity to damage yours.”

“That doesn’t leave much time for dilly-dallying.”

“Where I come from, there are penalties when a woman lies.”

“It would be absolutely, totally, and in all other ways inconceivable.”

“I challenge you to a battle of wits.”

“Look, I don’t mean to be rude but this is not as easy as it looks, so I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t distract me.”

“Do you hear that? That is the sound of ultimate suffering.”

“You be careful. People in masks cannot be trusted.”

“Please consider me as an alternative to suicide.”

[mckinninnon]

Say it louder for the people in the back. Yes.

Originally posted by yourreactiongifs

Plus: if you make all the characters wholly good or wholly bad with nothing in between not only are you making them boring but you are missing the whole point of “the world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters. We've all got both light and dark inside us” theme which is literally spelled-out in the books and yet people still prefer to make 100% unproblematic little angels UGH.

     chinhands at @mckinninnon and sighs

       I want all the casual bloodism like that. ‘Pretty good for a Muggle-born’, that pervasive attitude that being born to Muggle parents is something to be overcome, a negative in someone’s life! You cannot tell me that’s not something that happens constantly in the wizarding world, as something so ingrained in the culture, the idea of Magical Superiority. Even if it’s not ‘Pureblood is the only way!’, there’s bound to be that constant battle of having to prove something when there’s nothing that really needs to be proved. 

                   ‘For a Muggle-born’   —- I NEED MORE OF THIS. 

[mckinninnon]

Bartending Buddies

@soldiiermade

Marlene clattered down the stairs all in a rush shouting, “Sorry, sorry, know I’m late, just be a minute, sorry!” She was pulling her hair into a rough ponytail as she walked, but had to pause to divest herself of her purse so she could shove it into the cubby under the counter; her jacket followed, her movements awkward as she tried to hold her hair with one hand trading-off with the other while she squirmed out of the long-sleeved coat to reveal the stretchy tank-top she wore underneath. Marlene flashed smiles around generously in apology but it was a haphazard, perfunctory effort made for the sake of arbitrary social norms rather than any genuine remorse. Besides, they hadn’t opened for the night’s rush yet so she wasn’t actually late really even if she was supposed to have been here earlier so she could help prepare...

But punctuality was something that often took secondary status in her life. Marlene was easily distracted and like so many people who had grown up with more privilege than responsibility, she’d never really learned to prioritize such things -- not where they applied to the needs and demands of other people, anyway. She was pretty too, and while she didn’t go to great effort to maintain that, she wasn’t an idiot; she knew that pretty girls could get away with things that most people couldn’t. (Such as not worrying about their looks.) They also got better tips; hence the tight shirt with the scooped neck.

Finally getting her hair settled, she turned, a little bit breathless from all the rushing around, to face Bellamy. He didn’t look all that pleased to see her, but then again he hardly ever did; Marlene had decided a while ago -- because it was either that or analyze why he might always look like that when she was around -- that he just had one of those faces that looked displeased when it was set in neutral. Her oldest sister had a face like that: resting bitch face, it was, although she doubted that Bellamy would like for her to apply that term to his dour expression. Marlene met it with a bright smile.

“Evening, boss,” she said teasingly. “How are tricks? It’s raining like piss outside, fyi.” She squeezed her ponytail for emphasis then shook it back over her shoulders with a spray of drops. Marlene shivered a little as cold water ran down her back but she knew she would be plenty warm soon, once she started working. That was another reason for the skimpy shirt -- although the tips were nice too, more for the admiration they carried than for the money itself. Marlene wasn’t exactly a trust fund baby, but she was close enough that she didn’t really need the bartending job. She was here for curiosity’s sake -- a tourist, someone slumming it on purpose.

Not that she told a lot of people that; it would have ruined the illusion and for some reason, most folks didn’t react well when they found out she was related to those McKinnons. It was strange, but Marlene wasn’t much for self-analysis. Much more interesting to learn about other people, and that was the biggest reason for the bartender job and the revealing shirt: the more skin she showed, the more stories she got to hear.

[mckinninnon]

The agreement -- sharp, terse, sudden -- threw her off; she blinked, lurched to her feet, managed a polite smile when Navin followed-up with a polite-if-cursory thanks. Marlene should have been relieved, but the harshness of Navin’s response had overshadowed the fact that it had been a positive; it just felt wrong, and while of course it was evidence of the fact that Navin likely had not come here for the Dark Lord’s business and Marlene’s detriment, it did little to soothe her raw nerves.

When she returned with the little linen-lined velvet bag of tea and Navin grabbed her wrist she almost jumped out of her skin. Instead she froze; a bad defense mechanism but in this case it might have saved her because instead of fighting back or fleeing -- and thus very much giving away her allegiance or lack thereof -- she did no more than draw an icy breath, eyes widening, heart thundering, and fumble mentally for words that would work to make the problem, make Navin, go away--

And then all Navin did was touch her hair. Her hair. Then she let her go.

Marlene managed not to collapse as she sank back into her seat. She even managed a laugh, although it was a shaky one. “Well thank you,” she said. “I can see that spending so much time around Narcissa is rubbing off on you. I’ve never met anyone who cared so much about other people’s hair as she does -- except maybe for Lucius.” She laughed again, a little less breathlessly. “Would it be terribly rude of me to pry?” It was easy to fall into the patterns of empty chatter and meaningless gossip, easy to draw the pointless words up like a shield around her shaken nerves. “I can’t say that I’ve been close to Narcissa in recent years--” she had always gotten along best with Andromeda out of all the Black sisters, although now was hardly the time or place to mention that “--but unless she has changed drastically I expect you’ve been, well, either treated or subjected to a complete fashion make-over or twenty in the time you’ve been at her house. True?”

Its In The Tea

“Yes.” Navin probably should have been coy and over sweet. Regulus couldn’t find it to do so, though. Not all the time–sometimes Regulus just wanted to be there. Out in public, as a person–even if it felt strange to be a person. Not a unit. Not a wrath. Just sitting, with tea. Inside. Heating charms felt different inside a house, verses the there-not in a cave with make shift barriers. Even magic had its limits. “That would be nice. Thank you.”

Strange to thank someone, too. Especially when not on a show in the manor or out in public. Outside, on parade, it was easier. With just one person, and someone so insignificant as Marlene McKinnon, Regulus just wanted to take.

When Marlene came back Regulus grabbed her arm about Marlene’s wrist. Regulus could feel the way her heart pounded under her thumb, could watch the slips of emotion curling around her eyes.

Regulus reached up and brushed the hair from her face, then released her arm. “You had something in your hair. You should take better care of it.”

As though Regulus hadn’t spent nearly three months with sticks in her hair.

[mckinninnon]

We are creating a masterlist for every Harry Potter roleplayer.

The list is here. 

[mckinninnon]

Marlene was a little surprised at how readily MacDonald decided to give her idea a try; she wasn’t used to Gryffindors who were so amiable about accepting academic advice from anyone, especially not Ravenclaws. She wasn’t going to complain about it of course -- but she did wish that she’d thought the idea through a little more thoroughly before proposing it now. If she’d known how quick MacDonald would be to seize on the advice, she probably would have. Too late now; she’d just have to hope it worked. “No problem,” she told MacDonald, “good luck. Let me know how it turns out, yeah? Now I’m curious.” Marlene grinned.

She waved away MacDonald’s explanation of her knowledge of the Ravenclaw Riddle; it wasn’t a secret after all, it just wasn’t something that got talked about a lot. A house’s common room was a private thing, but the Ravenclaws didn’t guard theirs as jealously as most of the other houses, and Marlene knew that people sometimes bragged to their friends from other houses about their Riddle being so much better than a mere password. She wasn’t going to dismiss MacDonald’s presumption about Wallace Davidson so lightly though; she liked Wallace well enough and she didn’t like the way people teased him. “Actually he’s a whiz at the Riddle,” Marlene retorted. “He’s clever you know, just not good at school. Sometimes people are like that. Actually some of the people who have the most trouble with the Riddle are those who get the best grades; their minds are too rigid.” She was being snobbish and she knew it, and not even for a very good reason, but MacDonald’s smirk had set her back up and she had to rise to her housemate’s defense. Hufflepuffs weren’t the only people who could be loyal.

Her annoyance deflated when MacDonald offered her the book, though. There was only so cross one could be with a person when they did something like that. She turned the flimsy paper thing over in her hands speculatively then shrugged. “Yeah, all right,” she said. “What have I got to lose, right? Thanks.” She tucked it away in her schoolbag.

Marlene thought the other girl’s words over and nodded slowly. “I guess that makes sense,” she admitted, “although it seems to me that the more logical a fear is the more frightening it ought to be, but I guess it doesn’t always work that way, does it? Hmm.” She rolled the idea around. It would bear further reflection, she decided, but it definitely wasn’t one to dismiss out of hand.

Cleaning Up After the Cubs

[mckinninnon]

Accessability and Text Contrast

 They’re important things! You want people to be able to read what you write on your blog, right? OR else why are you writing at all? Use these tools to make sure it’s feasible to read your blog!

SNOOK COLOUR CONTRACT CHECKER

CSS ACCESSABILITY CHECKER

[mckinninnon]

omfg why do so many people have themes that are completely unreadable? Is not the whole entire point of a blog in the first place to have a place that presents the necessary information about your character so that people can interact with you? Why would anyone think it is a good idea to have size 0.000001 font? and on a background with less than 2% contrast with your text to boot? I literally cannot zoom in enough to read it because if I do the container you’ve put them in falls off the side of my screen and no amount of scrolling will bring it back COME ON PEOPLE!

[mckinninnon]

IF YOU’RE A MARAUDERS ERA INDEPENDENT BLOG, REBLOG THIS PLS. 

[mckinninnon]

RIGHT? It’s almost like, maybe, maybe if you grow up being taught toxic bigotry, then maybe you do not magically unlearn it the moment you set foot outside your family home? Maybe it is in fact a thing that you believe is true yourself because you have spent your whole life surrounded by people who claim it and perpetuate it? Maybe it is in fact something that you have to be taught is wrong? Maybe you need exposure to the opposite to learn it’s wrong? Because maybe it’s a magical world but it’s not that magical okay? There is no “bigotry-expulsus” spell mkay just saying.

if I see one more Andromeda or Sirius who “never bought into the family line lols” I swear...

     chinhands at @mckinninnon and sighs

       I want all the casual bloodism like that. ‘Pretty good for a Muggle-born’, that pervasive attitude that being born to Muggle parents is something to be overcome, a negative in someone’s life! You cannot tell me that’s not something that happens constantly in the wizarding world, as something so ingrained in the culture, the idea of Magical Superiority. Even if it’s not ‘Pureblood is the only way!’, there’s bound to be that constant battle of having to prove something when there’s nothing that really needs to be proved. 

                   ‘For a Muggle-born’   —- I NEED MORE OF THIS. 

[mckinninnon]

Marlene blinked, taken aback by the hard and displeased response. She frowned, tilting her head as though examining Evans from a different angle would clear things up, and said, “I said you were incredibly good at magic? Why are you biting my head off? I mean, you certainly outscored me, not that I was near the top of hte class anyway.” She lifted her hands in a shrug that was as much an admission of confusion as anything else. “That’s why I was asking. Sorry if I presumed wrong, but that’s just what people say: that you and Snape are from the same place, knew each other before Hogwarts, all that? Is that not true?”

Were she and Snape on bad terms, maybe? Marlene could understand how growing up in proximity to the surly, sharp-tongued swot would make one inclined to dislike him more than most did; as far as she could tell most people seemed to barely notice that Snape existed. If not for her cousins mentioning his brains to her once or twice, Marlene might never have paid him even the modicum of passing attention that she did. But if Evans had to deal with him every time she went home on break she’d have to pay attention to him; that she might have come to dislike him by being forced to spend time around him seemed like a likely result of that, but Marlene didn’t see where it merited such an abrupt response to her question.

“My point is that you’re a bloody brilliant witch, okay? Sorry if that offends you.” She rolled her eyes. Marlene was used to putting people’s backs up by saying the wrong thing, but rarely because of a compliment. “I was just curious, okay? Sheesh.”

Getting Off on the Right Foot

Too many things all at once; the rarity of Marlene McKinnon talking to her, the underhand slight, the half panicked glance around to reassure herself that Pince wasn’t on the verge of swooping down on them to speaking above a hushed whisper, the instinctive flare of protectiveness at the less than pleasant description of her best friend, and the harsh reminder that he wasn’t her friend at all. All crammed together in a moment as she blinked at her unfamiliar classmate. 

Easiest part first. “I know who Snape is.” Only it wasn’t really that simple, and she grimaced, slamming down hard on that can of worms that didn’t need reopening. “And I think I’m incredibly good at magic, full stop,” she added with a small sneer. “My OWLs support that at least.”

Why was she bothering? She was so tired of trying, exerting all that effort only to still be classified as ‘good, for a Muggle-born’.  “What’s you’re point, McKinnon?”

[mckinninnon]

Sooo...maybe I should teach the borrowed computer some Harry Potter names and spells and things, huh? Since apparently it’s having some problems due to the fact it can’t recognize any of them. I mean, I didn’t even know Microsoft Word had that feature...

[mckinninnon]

Marlene tried to think that over seriously. The idea of running out of things to say wasn’t one she was overly familiar with, although she did have a habit of getting off-topic so perhaps the problem -- if problem it was in such a case -- was that MacDonald was too focused and actually stuck to the assigned topic properly. “Well, would it help if you maybe did half of one essay and set it aside for a while, maybe did another or goofed-off for a bit, and then came back to it later? Might help keep the momentum up, or let you recapture it at least?” She shrugged; it sounded like a terrible way to work to her. Marlene preferred plowing-through an assignment all at once in hopes of getting it done before she got too distracted to finish it.

She promptly forgot her attempt to be helpful when MacDonald brought up the idea of Davidson and the Riddle. She blinked. “You know about the Riddle?” she asked, a bit stupidly because of course MacDonald knew about the Riddle, or why would she be asking such a question? Although maybe she hadn’t been talking about the Riddle -- Marlene knew that the other common rooms were mostly password-operated, and maybe she was just accusing Wallace of being forgetful -- and now Marlene was the one who had given it away...not that it was exactly a secret but it just wasn’t something one talked about so openly with the other houses...

She blinked against as MacDonald explained -- or tried to -- about the rubbish book she loved. “You love it even though you think it’s terrible?” she asked. That didn’t make sense at all, and Marlene said as much: “That makes no sense. Either you like a thing or you don’t, right? You can’t think something’s awful and enjoy it at the same time -- I mean unless you like being miserable, I guess, then maybe you could...” She shook her head. “I do loads of things that aren’t great ideas,” Marlene admitted with little hesitation, “but I don’t read stuff I don’t like and call it fun. That’s just weird, MacDonald. Do Gryffindors know how books are supposed to work?”

Giggling together over the idiocy of James Potter was entirely sensible though and Marlene was only too happy to join in on that round of laughter. It trailed off as MacDonald explained her fear of kelpies though -- or maybe more accurately, her fear of her own weaknesses. “I does sound stupid, if you know it’s a lure you can’t fall for it, that’s nonsense--” Marlene started to shake her head but the gesture faltered. She glanced down at her pocket and the Cherrywood wand tucked away beneath her black robes. She chewed her lip and then admitted, “All right, maybe not completely stupid, but I still don’t think a kelpie is all that threatening. You know Professor Kettleburn didn’t have to import the one he showed us in class, right? It just lives here, no worries, so you might as well stop worrying about the beasties. There’s bigger problems you can worry about instead -- like how to enlarge your handwriting without the professor’s catching on.” She smirked, trying to make a joke out of it, but couldn’t push the unsettled feeling away entirely.

Cleaning Up After the Cubs

[mckinninnon]

She was pretty---if rather stupid. Or not stupid, Regulus reconsidered, reassessed, reorganized. There--but not. A bit both worlds and, so, much like Lily-Narcissa and himself: Neither. "How wonderful." The world wonderful felt like tacky velvet, pulled overly high and sweet. "The tea. I heard the McKinnon tea was gone. Impotent. Sort of--wrong now. After that business---it wasn't as good." There were a few too many pauses, Regulus' hands moved erratic under the borrowed skin and false face(doa)

Marlene wasn’t entirely sure what to make of Navin these days. They hadn’t ever been exactly close – a few years difference in age seemed like centuries when you were young, and she’d always found Hufflepuffs a little too stubborn to bother to seek out their company without reason – but they had crossed paths. They shared a social level: almost pure and almost acceptable. That was what had made Marlene such a valuable member of the Order of the Phoenix: with her close ties to the elite of the pure-blood world and her allegiance to the Order a closely-guarded secret, she had been able to move in the circles that were denied to most of her allies.

Now the secrecy was keeping her alive, but it was also grating when she wanted to be doing something more – so maybe that was why Navin felt so off-putting right now. Marlene was tired of the bait-and-switch, of the clever repartee, of biting her tongue and forcing smiles and socializing. She’d rather be out there with Regulus and Evans (maybe; then again maybe not; while Marlene doesn’t mind a fight she isn’t sure that life on the run is really her). Instead she forced another smile and met Navin’s wavering gaze and shrugged politely. “It’s not the original blend, I should admit. You’re right, that was lost, after the…problems.” She skittered nervously around the subject, not wanting to talk about it with a Death Eater; she disliked what she had to say and how she had to say it in order to keep those people happy.

“Mum mixed this one up,” Marlene rushed on, pushing the subject to the tea itself and away from its history. “We had some left to try and work off of. And sShe’s always been good at potioneering, and she wrote to her parents for some help with the tea-part of it – tea brewing is kind of a big deal in Wizarding China,” she added, in case Navin didn’t know, although given her business interests she was probably more aware of magical culture outside of the British Isles than most witches and wizards of their acquaintance. “Anyway, between them all they managed to come up with a decent successor to the family brew. I’m glad you like it.”

Her smile felt as thin and brittle as the fine porcelain cup between her fingers. Navin didn’t seem to have noticed – because surely it couldn’t be Marlene’s lack of amiability that was making the other witch so nervous. She looked like she was sitting on a nest of fire-wasps. It occurred to Marlene suddenly that something might be quite wrong – but no, she told herself, Navin Gibbon wouldn’t be that nervous at the prospect of fighting, arresting, or even executing her. They weren’t friends, and everyone who knew Navin even a little knew how keen she was to make her mark in the Dark Lord’s circle. If she was here because Marlene had been found out she wouldn’t be so skittish…

“I could fetch you a bag to take home with you, if you like,” Marlene offered suddenly. It wasn’t an offer she’d meant to make; she had no reason to be so generous, so friendly, to Navin. But it would give her an excuse to leave the room, which meant it would theoretically give her an excuse to run. If Navin didn’t object, she could officially stop worrying. A few ounces of tea seemed a small price to pay for such a bargain. Besides, Navin was the close personal pet of Narcissa Malfoy these days by all accounts, and ingratiating herself with Narcissa’s new favorite couldn’t be a bad idea, all things considered.