moragmac

[moragmac]

I heard a joke today.

[moragmac]

seamus:

     he couldn’t deny his urge to poke and prod, it was in his nature.  “so is quidditch your distraction from your studies, or is school your distraction from quidditch?”  he still wasn’t entirely convinced morag wasn’t a robot, maybe the question would be enough to cause a malfunction.  he wondered if smoke would come out of her ears.  “there’s nothing healthy about any of this, and you know it.”  seamus simply shrugged off her next question.  she had a point, but her asking meant that he was getting under her skin, and that made this all worth it.  “i’m supposed to be meeting michael.”  he blinked, barely managing to swallow down the rage burning inside of him when she spoke again.  “some of us don’t have the luxury, macdougal.  how do you sit there and follow orders when you know what they’re doing is wrong?  where’s your bloody backbone?”

“Quidditch and school are both distractions from this shitty reality. It’s not that hard to understand.” Morag wasn’t in the mood for a lecture, for Seamus’ holier-than-thou nonsense. Especially as it was Seamus Finnigan --- a walking disaster. “So, you’re telling me you’re not distracting yourself from all this shit, ever? That you don’t flee? That’s bullshit. We all have ways to cope. Seamus. Let me have mine.” At the mention of Michael, Morag raised an eyebrow, but didn’t ask any further, nodding only in response. She had no interest in the details of that, if she was honest, and was way more focused on the rest of the conversation. “Haven’t you heard? I don’t have a backbone.” The words were spat out and Morag let them hang in the air for a moment. “So what, if I’m a coward? Do you see what we’re up against? I’m not going to fight that. I’m keeping my fucking head down because it’s the smart thing to do.”

[moragmac]

daphne:

Daphne rolled her eyes. The logic of Morag’s argument wasn’t lost on her… She just didn’t like it. And why would she? There was something special about this particular strip of the lake to her - something that made it feel completely hers. And Morag sitting there seemed to ruin that for her. Was it so hard to ask for some peace and quiet? 

“And so you decide to sit around and sulk?” Daphne questioned - feigning some sort of curiosity. “I would’ve have thought that a good captain would already be working on new strategies, gathering up the troops and preparing to do better the next time… Guess you’re not as good of a captain as I thought.” She really was just egging her on - thinking that maybe if she lit that fire Morag might leave her alone. 

Morag let Daphne’s words wash over her at first, but then her head snapped around, her eyebrows creased in an angry frown. Part of her knew that Daphne was just trying to get under her skin, for whatever reason, but that didn’t mean that she felt compelled to keep calm. She was pissed about losing. Pissed about Kevin not being there. Pissed about failing her entire team in more than one way.

“And what would you know about leading people, Greengrass?” Morag’s voiced was slightly raised, as were her eyebrows, her frown gone. “I’m not sulking. I’m reflecting. Trying to see what points need improvement and --- actually, I don’t need to explain myself to you.” Because as she was doing so, she felt her insecurities and self-loathing grow. “Find another spot, Daphne. I’m not in the mood.”

[moragmac]

theo‌:

“It’s not a big deal, just don’t go around showing people.” He’s uncomfortable for a brief second, not used to doing something nice for the simple act of doing so. Especially not for someone like Morag, where interactions have been limited. “There’s like. A fuck load of people who wouldn’t be happy with that book being used, so keep it on the low, yeah? And thanks, I’d love the ones about History of Magic.”

Theo tries not to grin in amusement at the memory of Ernie talking about his studying schedule. He doesn’t give a shit about the Hufflepuff all that much, but for some reason, the other boy’s dramatics amuse Theo more than he’d think. “Guess he’s just not dedicated as us.” It’s almost a joke, and a slight reference to Morag’s tired state. 

“She cried? You know what, I’m not even surprised. The girl hasn’t stopped crying since she stepped foot in this castle in first year.” He rolls his eyes to emphasise his point. “Don’t know why I’m even surprised that these Hufflepuffs are this soft.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I was planning on just showing Hermione Granger, that’s it.” Her words are dry and sarcastic and Morag is proud of herself for cracking a joke. Theo gets it, though, she thinks. The need to be best, or whatever messed up reason. “No, I’ll keep it quiet. I’ll be the only one to read it, don’t worry.” Maybe she’d share her notes on it, though, but Theo needn’t know that. “I’ll give them to at breakfast tomorrow, okay?”

Morag finds something close to comfort in the slights Theo and her make about Hufflepuffs. It feels wrong, partly, especially with Megan wearing a black-and-yellow tie, too, but she’s stressed enough. This is a way of release, she supposes, and at least it’s better than crying. “I think he’s more dedicated about bragging about his dedication, if anything.”

She chuckles, a little. “In class, too. I’m not too surprised either, but still --- where’s her pride?” At least Morag cried under the shower or in her pillow, if she did. That she, too, has cried over the stress she’s feeling was something she thinks didn’t need mentioning.

[moragmac]

susan‌:

“Lovegood’s costume was definitely… a statement piece.” Laughter spilled out of Susan’s lips with ease as she thought of the Ravenclaw. “Thank you for approving of my art - don’t suppose you want to help paint it, though?” Despite having no real interest in the game, Susan certainly loved the gimmicks of being a supporter and, while not to the same extreme as Luna Lovegood, definitely took it a few steps up. “Dean Thomas used to make some sick banners for the matches, remember? It’s not as much of a competition without him here to rival my art.” It had somehow become a habit, speaking of those that weren’t at Hogwarts even though they should. If she wept for every name she uttered in casual conversation, she’d have gone dry a long time ago, so Susan had to limit herself to a less vibrant shade of a smile. With a sigh, the girl twisted the dry paintbrush in her fingers, her attention returning to the task at hand. “You know, I’ve been saying this since fourth year, but Hogwarts really should add cheerleading to their list of activities - I would finally be interested in being a part of a sports team then. Morag, I’m sure you definitely agree with this.” Chuckles returned to the girl, along with a wider grin. “Sure, we’re missing some of the muggle basics, like maths or english, but cheerleading really would add some dynamics here.”

“It truly was. I mostly can’t believe she wore a Gryffindor hat, too ----- rooting for another team!” Morag didn’t have a place to talk, of course, with her supporting Hufflepuff the upcoming match ( but only for Megan --- the Gryffindor team winning would be better for her own chances at the Cup, after all ). “I would help but I’m ... quite useless at drawing. Maybe just some writing?” At the mention of Dean Thomas, Morag felt herself freeze up a little, not entirely prepared for this sudden turn of a conversation. Sure, Susan had mentioned it as casually as she could but still --- Morag preferred not to talk about things like their missing classmates in moments like these. Or at all, really. “Maybe there’s still some of his banners in the Gryffindor dorm or common room?,” she offered, shrugging a little. “You could ask Neville or Seamus, I’m sure they’d know.” Morag’s eyes were mostly focused on Susan’s banner while she spoke, feeling uncomfortable and uneasy but trying not to show it. She was glad that the other talked so much and easily, as she was soon able to smile at her words in stead of feel guilt at them. “I think that would be great. More sports would be a good idea, anyway --- I’d love it if we could do competitive swimming, or something.” And having English classes wouldn’t be a bad thing, either, thought Morag. “Maybe one day.”

[moragmac]

sophie:

“Alright.” Morag knew what she was doing, right? Sophie could trust her with the simple task of making sure she didn’t hurt herself while flying. She laughed softly at her qualms with golf, things that Sophie liked most about the game - the peacefulness of it. How she and her dad could just walk around talking while they played. But, she nodded, pushing herself up a couple feet higher ( She was a Gryffindor, after all, pacing around the pitch wasn’t as terrifying as actually playing a match ) and started around the pitch side-by-side with Morag.  “It’s nice that they did bring back Quidditch.” Sophie added conversationally. “I think everyone was getting anxious without any extracurriculars.” And sure, most of the students still didn’t have any, like Sophie herself, but it was nice to at least have the games to go to. The normalcy they brought with them was comforting. 

Sophie brought up the return of Quidditch and Morag was glad of it. The entirety of the situation was so foreign to her that coming up with small talk topics was somehow even harder than usual, and with Sophie heading the conversation, she didn’t have to. “I agree. I mean --- I don’t know if nice isI the right word. But I am happy about it.” 

She still wasn’t sure how to feel about it, still couldn’t help but feel a great amount of dread when she thought about the upcoming match, and it wasn’t only because of her fragile team and her worries about losing. The Carrow’s and Snape’s agendas were unpredictable. She had no idea what to expect. “It’s quite nice, isn’t it? Just flying around?” Morag glanced sideways, wanting to keep the conversation going, finding her mind relaxing slightly as they talked. “The air always seems fresher when you’re flying to me.”

[moragmac]

sally-anne‌:

Morag’s reaction didn’t completely surprise Sally-Anne, but it did make her eyebrows knit in concern. She could see the self-doubt so clearly in Morag’s expression, that feeling Sally-Anne was so familiar with of thinking that anything she did would never be quite enough. Always comparing her triumphs to those of others. Sally-Anne shook her head. 

“No, I’m not, I’m not just saying it,” she assured Morag. “Look, I know it can’t be easy for you.” Sally-Anne hoped she would know what she was referring to; of course, she’d never discussed Morag’s family with Morag herself, but being as close to Lisa as she was meant that Sally-Anne was fully informed on that whole situation (albeit through a somewhat narrow point of view, as was an unfortunate tendency of Lisa’s). She didn’t dare voice this aloud in her girlfriend’s presence, but Sally-Anne figured that if she’d been raised in the same manner as Morag, it was likely she’d behave similarly. Only in the past couple months had she drawn enough courage to stand up for what was right, even with her halfblood, staunchly anti-Death Eater upbringing. Sure, Lisa had overcome similar circumstances to Morag’s years ago, but not everyone could be Lisa Turpin. 

( And besides, had she really overcome them completely? ) 

“I know we haven’t been close and I know there are… complications to that. But, I dunno, I’d like for that to be different. I guess I’m just trying to say I’m here if you ever need anything, even just to talk.”

Morag was -- in all honesty -- a bit stunned. She was aware of the fact that she wasn’t the most sociable and extroverted person, that she was clumsy with words, but this situation was --- well, she had absolutely no clue how to respond. That Sally-Anne was a better, more honest person was something she’d been aware of for a long time, but she didn’t like the reminder.

“It’s not easy for anyone.” She didn’t know if she was saying the words maliciously, to mock Sally-Anne, or because she believed them. Maybe a bit of both. Morag could feel defensive walls building themselves --- she didn’t want any of this. She didn’t want Sally-Anne’s compassion, her kindness, even if her words did stir something inside of her. Maybe she had a point. Or maybe she was just completely blind, fooled by her own optimism, making things prettier in her head than they truly were. Morag wasn’t entirely sure, but being unsure about things was nothing new for her. “But no. It’s not been easy.” 

She thought of her family, for a second. About how things still didn’t seem finished, even if they were, about how some days she still considered owling her mother and begging for her forgiveness. She never gave in, but knew that, maybe, one day, she would. Morag wanted to tell Sally-Anne this ( or anyone, really --- but Sally-Anne happened to be there, right there and then ), but didn’t.

“Oh.” Morag thought over Sally-Anne’s words --- she liked the other. She did. She might not understand her, but there was a part of her that undeniably respected Sally-Anne, that was true. “That’s --- I’d like that, Sally-Anne. I’m not very good at it, but I’d like that. The same goes for you.”

[moragmac]

megan‌:

every time she caught her eye, megan couldn’t help but smile. it was like a game, waiting to see when their glances would line up, when their eyes would meet, when megan could toss a playful wink her girlfriends way. it was a game that had far too much of her concentration, considering the fact that lily was trying to hold a conversation from right beside her — something about the party?  the carrows?  the upcoming game?  surely part of her was keeping up. she wasn’t always this distracted. no. she had to focus. turning her attention back to lily, she tried for a smile.  ❛ sorry, what was that you were saying? ❜  instinctively, her eyes turned back to the ravenclaw table — only for her heart to sink at the realisation that morag was no longer sitting there.

slouching against the table top, megan sighed as her eyes ran back to her friend, the frown on her features lasting only for a second as she felt delicate fingers lace across her shoulders. looking up at morag, megan smiled, nuzzling her neck into her girlfriends shoulder as she leaned down towards her. placing a hand over morag’s arm, she looked down at her food, deciding she was plenty done now that was morag was here and standing up quickly as her smile widened.

❛ you had me at hey,  ❜  she teased, running her hand down the girls arm and lacing their fingers together gently. glancing back at lily, she smiled.  ❛ see you tomorrow? ❜  she offered, before bouncing down the hall towards the door, dragging her girlfriend in tow.  ❛ i think a couch sounds good tonight, ❜  she called, looking back to direct her smile morag’s way.  ❛ don’t you think? ❜

Something about Megan just soothed Morag, simple as that. The touch of her fingers, the sound of her voice, the glance of her eyes --- they were all bright spots among a dark night, and she wasn’t sure where she’d be without them. Luckily, for both of them, she had the feeling she wouldn’t have to experience a world like that any time soon. Megan was hers and had been for years now and Morag had no plans to change that.

She gave Lily a polite smile and a bye before being being dragged away by Megan, her hand in her own, and Morag’s polite smile grew into a wide, genuine one. Megan didn’t have the ability to ease all her worries and stresses away, but she made them seem smaller at the very least, and for now, that was enough. The fact that there could be something that came so easy to her, that felt so absolutely natural ... it was strange, in all honesty. Everything else took precise thought and worry upon worry and Megan --- well, since she’d chosen her, everything about Megan had become even easier. 

“It absolutely does,” said Morag, a smile tugging at her lips, still. She pulled at Megan’s hand, inching closer to her before pressing a quick kiss on her lips. “Your common room or mine?” Another kiss was placed on Megan’s lips, Morag’s eyes twinkling as she looked at the other. “Or we could transfigure a desk in an empty classroom into one --- have some privacy.” 

[moragmac]

WHEN: January 28th, 8:12PM WHERE: Ravenclaw Common Room WHO: @tcrryboots​

“Hey Terry, I’ve got your ---” Book. Morag swallowed the last word, letting the book itself hang in the air as she froze. She pulled back her arm after a few seconds, tucking the book under her arm and looking at Terry, not entirely sure what to do. She’d hesitated for too long now to make anything seem natural, and she longed, for only a moment, for more compassion. He was crying. She looked closer --- was he? Maybe it was just allergies, or the way the light was falling or --- or maybe she just wanted this situation to be anything but this. 

She hesitated again. Swallowed, thickly,  let her eyes dance around the room, hoping to spot Anthony or Michael or Sue or Padma or anyone who was better at this than her. That should have been an easy task, as she was fairy horrible at this, and yet there was no one. She looked at Terry again, realised that he really was crying. “What’s --- hey, what’s wrong Terry?” Morag drummed her fingers against his book. “I can come back later, if you want.”

[moragmac]

❝

“Wayne Hopkins,” said Morag, trying to make her voice sound as serious as she could, even if her words were still slurred. “I need to talk to you.” Her lips closed themselves around the straw in her cup — how she had gotten the straw, she didn’t know, but she preferred drinking this way.

Clearing her throat, she put her drink down. “Sometimes you and Mandy remind me of Megan and me, you know? Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, defying all odds … different worlds, different blood statuses and different … a lot of differences. And still loving one another!” She frowned a little, reconsidering her words. “I mean, Megan and me — we had some bullshit to dig through and once you and Mandy do that, and I know that time will come … just be kind with her, okay? And patient. She loves you soooooooo much. And if you hurt her I dunno what I’ll do, because … I think you’re pretty nice and all, but if you hurt Mandy … you’re worse than You Know Who, in my book! I’ll bloody kill ya. Even if you’re like hurt or whatever — don’t you dare break her heart, yeah? Alright, that’s all — go be a good boyfriend to my girl and have a great party!”

[moragmac]

☺

She wasn’t entirely sure what had happened — her thoughts had become clouded and the world was spinning slightly and part of her wondered why people liked being drunk so much when it made everything seem so off. Another part was accepting it, going with it, thriving on the complete sense of relaxation that she – for what seemed like the first time in her life – was feeling.

And so when Fay Dunbar offered Morag a bodyshot, she had said yes before realising what was happening. “I’m horrible at these,” she said, apologising in advance, but grinning a little. She grabbed the tequila tighter, poured some into Fay’s navel and then didn’t stop.

“Oh no!” she exclaimed, continuing to pour, watching liquor slosh over the other’s body, hoping it’d stick horribly. “I can’t stop!” Eventually, she put the bottle back ( taking a quick sip of it first, pulling a face once the liquor was on her lips ), looking down at Fay. “Oops. I told you – I’m horrible at these.”

[moragmac]

☺

A part of Morag had wanted nothing but Megan all night. Every moment she spent talking to someone else, she thought of her girlfriend, wanting to be in her company, in her arms, her lips on her own. 

She craved her. Missed her as if it was summer break and she was cooped at home ( which no longer was home, now ) and she had not seen her for weeks. Of course, she had seen her earlier that evening, had stolen many glances off of her —– but Morag was drunk, and her longing had increased tenfold.

Soon enough she found Megan. She asked people if they’d seen her, letting them point her in the direction only so she could get lost again. How that was possible was beyond her, as the common room wasn’t that big, but eventually she found her.

And she kissed her, for what seemed like an eternity in her drunken state, pulling back with a wide grin. “I want to try doing a body shot,” she said, beaming at Megan. “I’ve seen people do them and —– I want to do it. It looks like fun.” ( If she were sober, she would probably consider it a rather ineffective way of drinking alcohol, which it certainly was, but in that moment she just wanted to do something fun. )

Megan was horizontal soon enough and Morag was following the instructions with complete faith and concentration. Of course it didn’t go right — she was no party girl, inexperienced with this state of drunkenness and completely useless at party tricks. Liquor spilled over Megan’s body and Morag giggled, pressing a quick kiss on her stomach, and another, and another. Eventually, she placed a kiss on Megan’s lips and looked at her with a grin on her lips and in her eyes. “Oops! Doesn’t matter, though — I think that’s more fun, anyway.” 

[moragmac]

❝

tMorag stumbled. She wanted to go to bed — she was angry and tired and the whole world was spinning and she didn’t like it one bed. The problem was, however, that in her drunken state, she kept getting distracted. There was someone to banter with about Quidditch, and then someone to roll her eyes at, someone to yell at and then someone to laugh and hug.

She was quite sure that she’d never talked to this many people in such a short amount of time ever before. It was fucking exhausting.

And yet, she kept going. Eyes fell on Seamus Finnigan and Morag walked over, determined, with a drink in her hand ( how it got there, she didn’t remember, but she took a huge sip from it anyway ). 

“Hey, hey Seamus — remember that … thing that happened? It really —” She swallowed, shook her head. “I dunno if I could say no again, ya know? That was the fucking worst. I’m not sure if I can say no again if it means going through… that.” Morag laughed, and then shrugged, her drink spilling on the carpet. “I guess I’m the coward people keep tellin’ me I am!”

[moragmac]

morag macdougal + textposts 

[moragmac]

❝

This hadn’t been the plan. Morag had decided before the party started that she would slip up to the girls dorm early and pass out in Megan’s bed on time so she could get up early the day after to work on her essays. And here she was, up past her bedtime, getting more and more drunk as time passed.

She blamed the company she was in. And the loss of the Quidditch match. And maybe, somewhere, also her issues at home, which now no longer was her home.

It had not taken a lot for her to get drunk, and after that, things had gone downhill. Somehow, she found her way to Terry. She hadn’t known it, but once she saw him, the need to talk to him was there, and she approached him clumsily, spilling some of her — well, she had no idea what she was drinking actually — on the carpet. “Boot! I’ve got to say, I get why people like parties so much. You know, sometimes I think that I’m the worst enemy in my life — why don’t I allow myself to let go like this more often, hm? Are you happy with yourself? Because I’m not sure if I am.”

[moragmac]

✖ pansy

Somehow, Morag had ended up in the middle of a game of spin the bottle, and she had no idea how or why. In fact, she was trying desperately to slip away unnoticed, hoping to get away once the bottle had landed on someone and everyone was focused on the kiss. Of course, she had failed to consider the fact that it could land on her, too.

Shit.

“I have a girlfriend,” she protested, looking up from the bottle to the spinner, feeling more and more uncomfortable with the second. She longed for her dorm and its silence and lack of loud teenagers. “I mean — she’s right here.” 

But Pansy leaned in anyway and Morag considered her options for a moment. She could chicken out — nothing was forcing her to do this and yet … Morag MacDougal did not chicken out of a challenge. And so she leaned in, too, giving Pansy a quick peck on her lips before getting up. “That was lovely. I’m going to get a drink.”

[moragmac]

"Morag! I've been looking for you." Sophie announced, linking their arms together and pressing a sweet peck to her cheek. "I just... I wanted to say thank you for taking me out to fly. That was, that was really sweet of you and you didn't need to do that and it was a lot of fun and really nice and you're really nice and you're so pretty and smart." Sophie pressed another kiss to her cheek. "Thank you!"

She didn’t feel comfortable at the party. Everyone was too loud, too drunk, too out of control, and Morag was the absolute opposite of that. And while she wasn’t going to, she wanted to leave desperately, even moreso when a very clearly drunk Sophie Roper kissed her on her cheek.

Not once. But twice.

She stiffened up, pulling away slightly from the Gryffindor. “Oh, you’re … welcome? It was nothing.” It had been something, Morag knew that — it’d surprised her, that she’d tried to help someone she barely considered a friend. Sophie called her nice and pretty and smart, and while she agreed on the last one, she dismissed the others in her head.“I need a drink. And you need water.”