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Marlow Linney-Smith
21 April 2014 @ 11:15 pm
There were moments when Marlow and Dean could just sit and lay in the grass by the Great Lake and just talk for hours about nothing in particular. They never quite needed a reason to see each other, always just there. It had been like that since they were eleven years old. But now, lately, there was always something lingering behind each interaction- whether it was a confession about Sabrina or a confession about Marlow's own sickness- everything had become so heavy lately that it was driving her mad.

But this time was no different, Marlow seeking refuge in her friend when she couldn't spend another moment in the hospital watching with baited breath if this would be the day that her mother finally woke up.

She needed to clear her head, she needed to just be somewhere else for a little while or she was afraid she was going to lose it.

Which was why she was so grateful that they were on the opposite side of London, tucked into the back booth of the Leaky Cauldron, Hannah Abbott dropping off fresh cups of tea for them while Marlow curled up into the corner.

"Binns is over-seeing my exams this week," she said, huffing a slight breath. "I haven't been back to the castle in a week-"
 
 
Marlow Linney-Smith
15 April 2014 @ 10:23 pm
She woke at dawn, the bright sunrise catching her in the middle of a blink. She rolled onto her side, her paws stretching in front of her as she cracked her jaw. She rolled to her feet, shaking her body, the fur fluffing itself as she pranced around slightly, flexing her paws as she looked around. She had only made it to the front porch of the Finnigan household, the screams and howls holding her back from going any further. She had seen that look in his face, watching him as he sprinted over the hill and away from her. He didn't want her near him.

And she wouldn't muck up whatever new trust they were forming now by completely disregarding what he wanted.

So, she stayed put.

But now, as the sun shone brightly over the hills of the farm, she knew she had to go and find him.

Though, shifting back was the first option.

Once she was back to her normal self, making sure her clothing charmed back properly, she wrapped her denim jacket more tightly around her body and set off in the direction of where she had seen him run off.
 
 
Marlow Linney-Smith
15 April 2014 @ 10:00 pm
Production started on series two of The Three Musketeers this morning, the first episode only an hour and a half long but somehow dredging up fifteen hours of her day. She had left the house at barely eight in the morning, tucking herself in the back of the town car, the script already filled with more notes than any of the actors were going to be alright with. They had memorized twenty pages of script for the day but the director wanted re-writes. Of course the director wanted re-writes. The slimey bastard always did. But at the very least, he asked without trying to get too close.

She figured the slap actually did what it was supposed to. She still had a formal complaint written up if he tried anything again. Which is what she was sliding back into her briefcase when she stepped out from the town car, wondering if Sebastian had made it home before her or if they were still battling for the winning title who could work the latest.

She was a bit of a ways from the front door, the gravel path always tricky for anything smaller than her SUV.

When she heard the rustling, she assumed it was the wind. It was spring, after all. They lived in the quiet side of Ottery St. Catchpole, nothing but a few stray cats and foxes roaming the grounds, constantly chewing up Sebastian's garden in the back.

Her heels clicked against the gravel, her feet killing her from the day. All she had on her mind was a warm bath and a cup of tea when she heard the snarling behind her. It all happened so quickly, she didn't even have a moment to scream as the animal knocked her down to the ground, her head hitting the gravel roughly as she felt something rip and then everything went black.

--

It wasn't a moment later that the front door swung open, Sebastian's wand pointed straight as a flurry of hexes flew from it, bright flashes of red and green emitting from the wood as he raced toward where his wife fell. The wolf growled, standing its ground until a Blasting Curse skinned its front paw and it howled, racing off into the distance, narrowly avoiding a Stunning Spell.

Sebastian fell to the ground at his wife's side, her side torn up in unimaginable ways, her body stiff and unmoving. He gripped at her tightly, cradling her in his arms as he sucked in a breath and took them immediately to St. Mungo's.

They landed in the center of the lobby as a sob caught in his throat.

"My wife-" he screamed. "Someone please- she's been attacked"
 
 
Marlow Linney-Smith
14 April 2014 @ 08:36 pm
The Linney household was buzzing with the kind of energy it used to have before Jonah and Marlow became full-fledged adults and moved out, leaving Rowan and Sebastian with a big, empty home and two extra bedrooms that would probably make a pretty decent library and office, respectively, but that Rowan had no heart to change. Besides, where was the fun in teasing her children when future boyfriends or girlfriends came to visit without the remnants of their embarrassing childhoods?

Currently, this little burst of excitement was due to their daughter's twenty-sixth birthday, the family fulfilling their yearly birthday traditions of favorite meals and triple-decker chocolate cakes while wearing the most ridiculous of party hats. Even Sebastian was a good sport about it all. But then, it only came four times a year.

Music filled the home, an old soul playlist that Rowan was obsessed with on the record player, while she fussed around in the kitchen, talking about whatever with Lavender while Marlow helped Jonah set the table, her eyes catching Zacharias's as he sat by her father.

She was hopeful that everyone was going to love him just as much as she did.
 
 
Marlow Linney-Smith
11 April 2014 @ 10:14 pm
It had been a hell of a fucking day.

First that annoying asshole of a gossip writer for the Prophet released the news about the werewolf they'd taken into custody, a kid who still refused to give up his name and resigned himself to muttered incoherent thoughts in the holding cell where he freaked out the other inmates waiting their trials. Then, he had to deal with all the paperwork attached to getting kidnapped and brutally beaten in a fucking life boat.

That had been fun.

But now, it was time to make the trek back to Azkaban, heading to the dreary, dank island after dinner time, after whatever it was that consisted of dinner within the cement block cells.

He had a conversation that needed to take place.

And this time he was going to get answers.