The sun streamed weakly through the tall windows of the shared Gryffindor dorm, catching the specks of dust as they floated lazily in the still air. Mary sat with her legs crossed on her bed, an old Charms textbook propped against her knees. Across the room, Lily lay sprawled on her stomach on her own bed, scribbling furiously in her Potions notebook. The scratch of her quill interrupted the quiet of the room, along with the faint cheering that was echoing from Quidditch practice.
Marlene was at practice again, leaving the room in its familiar stillness, just Mary and Lily. They don't need words to fill the silence; they never had.
“Do you think Marlene ever gets tired of chasing that Quaffle around like a lunatic?” Mary asked suddenly, her voice soft but tinged with humor.
Lily didn't look up. “Not a chance. She lives for it, doesn't she? She probably imagines the Quaffle is her brother while she kicks it into the sky, or whatever they do.” Marlene had been complaining about her older stepbrother, Frank Longbottom, earlier that morning. Supposedly Frank had claimed he could beat her in Quidditch any day. Marlene did love a challenge.
Mary laughed, the sound low and warm, and Lily looked up then, her green eyes smudged with eyeliner and sparkling with amusement. They held each other's gaze for a beat too long, just like they had for the last six years, but neither commented on it. They never did. The two had always been close, closer than anyone else in their year. From the first week of the first year, Mary had found Lily crying in an empty classroom. Lily had been upset about her sister, Petunia. Mary never fully understood the relationship between Lily and her sister, she grew up with three younger brothers who she loved more than anything. But she understood Lily, and of course now she understood the loneliness that came with missing your family. Lily and Mary's bond had been immediate and unstable since that day. Mary sat down beside her without a word and handed her a napkin. They had been inseparable ever since.
Over their years at Hogwarts, their closeness had evolved into a deeper kind of intimacy that neither of them questioned. Why question something that felt so normal? Sharing a bed during late nights or bringing each other food without having to ask became second nature. Holding hands while walking to class was normal, just as natural as the way Lily stole Mary's quill during lessons or how Mary always saved the last of her Honeydukes for Lily. It was natural how the two would always find each other after class and it was natural to beg their parents to let them spend the summers together.
To anyone else, it might have looked like something more. But to them, it was simply just them. Lily and Mary.
This afternoon felt no different until they did something they could never reverse. Mary glanced over at Lily again, watching the way her curly red hair spilled messily over her shoulders and how her freckled nose scrunched when she was concentrating. Mary thought about how Lily never anything without being fully committed, without her fiery passion. Mary felt a sudden pang in her chest, a strange mixture of fondness and longing that made her look away.
“You've gone quiet,” Lily remarked, not looking up from her notes. “That's unusual for you.” Mary scoffed and threw a pillow Lily's way.
“As if you don't love my talking,” Mary smiled.
“Seriously,” Lily said now, looking up from her notes.
“I am just sleepy, Lils,” Mary lied. Lily hummed in response and went back to her studies.
The hours passed in their usual way, and soon the late afternoon faded into the soft glow of evening. Marlene wouldn't be back for hours–they both know how long James Potter would run Quidditch practice, he was never satisfied.
“Want to go down for dinner?” Lily asked, stretching her arms over her head.
Mary shook her head, and her brown curls bounded, “Not hungry. You?”
Lily shook her head too, a faint smile playing on her lips. “Guess it's just us, then.”
It always was, Mary thought, but she didn't say it out loud.
They ended up lying on Mary's bed, as they often did when the dorm was empty. Lily sprawled across the pillow while Mary leaned back against the headboard, her legs stretched out in front of her. Their hands, as if in some unspoken agreement, found each other between them.
The silence stretched between them, comfortable still. Mary could feel the warmth of Lily’s hand in hers, the soft brush of her thumb against her skin. She stared up at the pink canopy above them, her heart pounding for reasons she couldn't, or wouldn't, place.
“I've been thinking,” Lily said suddenly, her voice soft and tentative.
Mary's heart skipped ten times over. “About what?”
Lily turned the thread to look at her, eyes searching. “Us.”
The word hung in the air between them, heavier than it should have been. Mary felt her breath leave her body.
“What about us?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Lily did not respond right away. Instead, she shifted, propping herself up on one elbow so she was facing Mary fully. Their faces were close now, too close, and Mary could see every freckle on Lily's cheeks, her lips parted slightly as she hesitated.
“I don't know,” Lily said finally, her voice so quiet it was almost lost. “Just… us.” And then before Mary could think, speak, or breathe, Lily leaned in and connected their lips.
The kiss was soft but warm as if Lily was testing the waters, afraid of what she was doing, afraid of what she might find on Mary's face. But it was sweet, unbearably so, and Mary felt something deep inside her crack open at the sensation.
Her hand tightened around Lily’s instinctively, and for a moment, she forgot everything-forgot the world outside, from the implications, forgot everything except the feel of Lily's lips against hers and the warmth of her hand in hers.
But just as fast as Mary forgot, the faster it was over.
Lily pulled back, her eyes wide and uncertain. “I'm sorry,” she said quickly, her voice shaky. “I shouldn't have-”
Mary shook her head, cutting the other girl off. “Don't be sorry,” she said, her own voice trembling. Lily searched her face as if looking for something-permission, maybe, or reassurance. Mary didn't know what to say, didn't know how to put into words the whirling of emotions crashing through her.
All she knew was that she didn't want to leave Lily.
They didn't talk, not then. Instead, they lay back down in silence, their hands still intertwined. The air between them was heavy with unspoken words, but neither of them dared to break it.
And as they drifted off to sleep, still holding hands, Mary couldn't shake the feeling that something fragile had been broken between them. The kiss was too much and not nearly enough all at once. What they had before was perfect in its simplicity; the unspoken intimacy, the quiet closeness that needed no definition. But now, with that kiss, the lines had blurred, and Mary couldn't stop the sinking feeling that they had risked ruining that perfect thing they'd held onto for so long.
The kiss lingered in both of their minds, each carrying the weight of it in their own way. By the time they left Hogwarts that year, Lily and Mary didn't look at each other the same way nor did they speak to each other. What had once been effortless, those shared moments of blissful intimacy had been replaced with an unbearable tension that neither of them knew to address.
Mary went home to her aunt's house, back in the silence of the country, where the world seemed to move in slower circles. She spent her days working in her aunt's garden, writing music, and most of all missing her family. Mary's world had burned down during the third year while she was away at Hogwarts. A fire, quick and merciless, tore through her childhood home and the farm her family had worked on for generations. Her parents and her brothers were all lost to the flames. That night, Mary learned that the world was cruel and could change in an instant, and everything you know could be reduced to ash. Since then, she carried the weight of that loss every time she visited her aunt for the summer, unable to run from it.
Lily had been with her that night, comforting her like nobody else would ever be able to do. Mary's mind wandered to the other girl and what she had been doing this lonely summer. For Mary, the summer had been stretched to fill an eternity. She couldn't stop thinking about Lily, but in those thoughts, she didn't know whether she was angry or heartbroken or both.
Every time she walked into her room at her aunt's house, her mind would flashback to that kiss, and then the aftermath. The silence. The way Lily had pulled back was as if she too knew something had changed for the worst. A relationship that had been so simple and beautiful had suddenly been made complicated, and neither of them knew how to navigate it. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. Why didn't they just talk about it? Why had it been so easy to let it fester?
But under the anger was fear. Fear of what he might have been on the brink of discovering–of what they could have become. That kiss had been an open door and Mary wasn't sure she wanted to walk through it. The thought of what might happen to them, what it might do to their relationship, made her want to run away from the possibility altogether, faster than she had ever run from something before.
Lily, on the other hand, buried herself in everything but Mary. She spent her summer trying to keep her mind occupied, taking up more study hours, trying to spend time with her parents, and going on long walks through Cokeworth, but there was never any peace to be found. Every corner of her life had become a reminder of what was left unresolved. Not just Mary, but Severus and Petunia.
Lily had ruined so much in her life, by simply loving. She didn't understand it in the moments, but the way she loved was a curse, a fierce all-consuming devotion that left no room for boundaries. She loved too deeply, too freely, without fear, and it led to destruction every single time. Every time without fail, her heart became her downfall. What should have been her greatest strength turned into her greatest flaw and in the end, it was the very thing that tore her apart. The thing that tore her and Mary apart and she missed it more than she ever wanted to admit.
There was more than just the absence of Mary that gnawed at her. She couldn't stop wondering about that kiss. What a stupid thing to do, kiss her. Why did she kiss Mary and had it really been a mistake? She told herself that it was Mary's fault, for letting Lily pull back that night and for the distance afterward. She wanted–needed–Mary to stay with her, to continue to be the best thing that Lily ever had. But now it was different. Now, Mary was silent, absent from her life in a way that felt more wrong than the end of the world.
As the summer dragged on, Lily grew angry too. Angry at herself, angry at Mary, and angry at how easy it had been for their connection to turn into something difficult. She never understood for a moment how love could be so confusing, so easily misunderstood. And yet, every time she thought of Mary, there was a pang deep in her chest, something that made her question everything.
When the two finally reunited at Hogwarts for their seventh and final year, there was a noticeable chill between them. Neither spoke, of the kiss or otherwise. Everything hung in the air like a ghost, the most unwanted presence. The things that had once been familiar between them, the shared meals, studying together on late nights, and holding hands under the covers, seemed to have disappeared. There was a formality now, a pointlessness that felt unnatural.
Mary did not seek out Lily the way she once had, she found excuses to study alone in the library or spend time with any other friends she had outside of Lily. Every time she saw Lily, surrounded by her usual friends–Including James Potter–her chest tightened. There was a sharp edge to the jealousy that she could never get rid of, but she buried it telling herself it was better if you didn't acknowledge it.
James Potter. Mary had never minded James Potter before, but the sight of him around Lily made her stomach twist. The way Lily glowed when he spoke, like she used to do with Mary. Mary had always been good at hiding what she felt, but she didn't know what to do with the painful mixture of anger that swept over her every time she saw the two of them laughing in the common room.
At first, it was normal-just a few shared looks, and a couple of study sessions Lily would leave the dorms for. But soon, it becomes much more. They tried to hide it, but James and Lily had crossed the line from friends to something beyond what they ever thought it would be. Mary knew Lily more than she knew anything in the world. Lily looked truly happy around James like she found something her love wouldn't break. That, more than anything, made Mary ache in a way she didn't know she could.
It had been months since the last time Mary and Lily had truly spoken to each other. The awkwardness had grown, and with it, their distance. The unbreakable bond had frayed, and Mary convinced herself that, in the end, that was for the best.
But then, one night in the middle of April, they were alone in the shared dormitory. Marlene was gone, just like all those times before. The room was empty aside from the painful silence. Mary sat on her bed staring at the wall, trying to ignore the way Lily's presence made her pulse race. She Heard Lily move behind her and felt the air shift.
“Mary,” Lily's voice was small. Lily's voice was never small. “I miss you.”
Mary's body stiffened. She didn't turn around, looking at Lily would have made it impossible to do what she needed to do. “Go miss someone else,” she replied, her voice cutting, sharper than she meant.
Lily breathed deeply, a sound full of frustration and sadness. “Okay. Be angry. Yell at me. Please, Mary, just talk to me again.”
Mary clenched her fists in her lap, feeling the sting of tears she wouldn't allow to fall. She stood up abruptly as if she were about to walk straight out the door. “What do you want?” She snapped, her voice shaking despite her harassing tone.
Lily made a strangled noise as if she opened her mouth to speak but the words fell short. There was silence while Lily searched Mary for something, for some clue of what had happened to them.
“What do I want?” Lily replied more quietly this time; Mary couldn't hear the bitterness in her tone. “What do you want, Mary?”
Mary took a shaky breath, her heart racing. “What?”
She could hear Lily's footsteps as she came closer, her voice breaking. “What happened to us?”
“Stop.” Mary's voice was almost as quiet now, fragile, even as she tried to hold on to her anger.
“Please, Mary,” Lily said, now close enough that she grabbed Mary's hand, “I need to know.”
Mary shook her head and ripped her hand away from Lily. “Lily, goddamn it, stop! You have James and I-” She stammered over her words, the weight of everything coming down on her. “And I have myself, just like I always have.”
Silence. For a moment, the world itself stopped.
Lily reached for Mary again, but Mary stepped forward. “Don't.”
Then finally all of it hit Mary like a ton of bricks. This was it. Mary turned around, looked at Lily, and took her face in her hands. That face she had memorized for the last seven years of her life, and she kissed it.
Lily leaned into the kiss and Mary felt the tears roll down both of their faces. The kiss lingered for a beat too long, but Mary needed to give this to both of them. One last time. When they finally pulled apart their eyes didn't meet. Instead, Mary turned and left the room, in the silence of the corridor, the sadness settled itself into a permanent place in Mary's chest. She knew it settled in Lily too.
Mary needed out. She needed to get out. She felt the immediate urge to start over, out of the Wizarding world, away from her dead family, and away from Lily. She needed to chase her happiness, without fear.
The party was winding down, the laughter and the music dimming to a low hum as Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were the last ones to leave the common room. Lily stood by the fireplace, absently playing with the ends of her hair. Her heart felt heavy because so much had changed. Even during this last night at Hogwarts, before the whole world was at her feet, Lily couldn't help but think about Mary.
Mary had somehow graduated early and left without a word, and Lily understood why it hurt so much. She lost something far more precious than a best friend.
Although Lily tried to fight it, she'd fallen in love with James Potter so quickly, faster than she'd ever thought was possible. She found herself thinking about him all the time, seeking his company, feeling his presence take a deep-rooted place in her chest. With James, she knew it was right. Her love wouldn't break him. The two of them loved far too boldly for that. He was just as strong headed as she was. She loved him deeply, completely, with every certainty possible.
But she had never stopped loving Mary Macdonald. She just needed to learn to live with it, to hide it deep inside her where no one else could see. It wasn't that she chose James over Mary. It wasn't a choice. She had tried to move on without James after Mary left, trying to fit herself into a new mold that would have made everything easier. But that never was and will never be Lily Evans’ nature. Even now, with James by her side, she still felt the absence of the girl that made her feel so much, the girl that had been everything to her.
If Mary had asked her to leave with her, if Mary ever reached out, she would have followed her. She would have packed her things, and she would have left behind everything. Lily will always have a deep desire and love for Mary, even if she does not understand it fully. But Mary didn't ask, and she would never reach out. Lily was surer of that than anything.
And now, Lily realized, she had a hole in her heart shaped exactly like Mary. It wasn't that kind of ache that could be fixed. It was the kind of ache that would stay with her, carved into her forever, that nobody could ever get rid of. Not James. Not anyone. But that didn't mean she couldn't live with it.
Lily took another sip of the drink she had been holding, the bitter taste not matching the sorrow in her chest. Mary was gone, and Lily knew she'd never get a chance to fix what they broke. But as Lily stood there with James’ hand resting on her shoulder, she gained a sort of comfort. Lily would carry that hole with her for the rest of her life, but she would always carry so much more. Lily Evans would never stop trying to live to the fullest. She turned around and kissed James, pulling back with a soft smile.