Cruel Summer (With You)

Mary.

Mary Macdonald is a bitch. The first time she was called that was in her third year at Hogwarts when she slapped some smarmy sixth year for calling Lily Evans a mudblood. He called her a bitch and she spat in his face, and then threw a stinging hex at him for good measure. She’s learned to accept it- make it part of her whole thing. Yeah, she’s a bitch. If she says it first, that means it can’t hurt when someone else says it. If she says it first, it can mean something different. It can be cool, and tough, and a title to wear with pride.

Right now, though? Right now she really is a bitch. She’s sitting alone at a table at a restaurant overlooking the water and she’s stewing in her own anger. Well, it’s not anger, really, but it’s easier to call it anger than anything else. Her waiter is a kid that’s probably a year or so younger than her, and every time he comes to her table his gaze flicks down to her low-cut deep red top that matches her lipstick and she wants to throttle him because she didn’t fucking wear it for him, she wore it because Lily picked it out for her earlier this summer and said she looked irresistible in it. She didn’t mean it like that. Duh. Fucking obviously. Mary’s not an idiot.

And Lily’s all wrapped up in Lover Boy himself James Potter and Mary is off on the sidelines and her entire body is turning green and she’s a little bit of a monster and she can’t just be happy for Lils because… because…

Mary stabs at her dinner angrily, shoving a bite into her mouth. She said that tonight she was going to take herself out on a date and she’s trying to enjoy it but she can’t quite get there.

It just fucking sucks, okay? She’s on this trip and she’s surrounded by couples. Okay, sure, Remus and Sirius aren’t a couple but everyone knows they’ve been heading that direction for ages. But Dorcas and Marlene are still in their perpetual honeymoon stage and Lily and James… and Lily and James.

And the thing is that Lily used to hate James. Okay, not hate him, but she could hardly be in the same room as him without losing her temper.

Merlin, Mary really loves it when Lily loses her temper. She looks so wild when it happens and Mary can’t help but want.

But anyway, the point it, Lily didn’t even like James and now they’re probably gonna get married in the next year or so and have a stupid little baby and live out the rest of their lives blissfully happy and in love and what kind of friend is Mary if there’s always gonna be a part of her that hates that?

All too often, Mary fantasizes about leaving everything behind. Saying a final goodbye to the wizarding world- the one that only ever has nasty, awful shit to say to her for the way she looks, the way she acts, the color of her skin, the parents she has- and moving to a place like this, like California, or New York, or London, or somewhere entirely remote where nobody can reach her. She’s never had an affinity for magic like everybody else. She’s shit at charms, and she couldn’t ever transfigure anything properly, and Slughorn always had that grimace on his face when he walked by her cauldron, and now what? Now she’s supposed to fight in a war that she never asked to be a part of? When both fucking sides have been the ones to tell her that she’s both too much and not enough?

But fight, she will. She’s good at it- she’s always been a fighter. Besides. She’s got a hell of a lot to fight for, and a hell of a lot to lose if she were to drop everything and run.

Mary pays the bill and gets to her feet, tugging on the jacket she brought with her and stomping down the stairs out of the restaurant. What should she do tonight? She entertains the idea of finding a bar somewhere and then gives up on it. Cheap thrills have never been her thing, contrary to popular belief. Bitch, slut, freak, mudblood. She’s heard it all.

When she takes a step back and looks at it, she does love her friends. She does. She’d never leave them, but every once in a while the idea of trying to forget it all and become someone else is just… really appealing.

When Mary gets back to the house, it’s quiet. She thinks it’s empty until Marlene comes padding out of the bedroom and tips her head to the side when she sees Mary sitting on the couch.

“Uh-oh,” she says, plopping down next to Mary and giving her shoulder a little nudge. Mary scowls and shoves Marlene back. “Someone’s in a mood. What happened to solo date-night, eh?”

“Failed,” Mary mutters, shaking her head. “Year of self love, didn’t I say? What bullshit.”

Marlene rolls her eyes and slings an arm around Mary’s shoulders. Mary settles against her side and closes her eyes. Marlene and Lily have been her best friends since first year. They met in the girls’ dorm as scared little eleven year olds and they’ve been inseparable ever since. It’s always sort of pissed Mary off that the Marauders get all the credit for their tight-knit friend group. Mary knows for a fact that nothing could ever split the three of them up. She knows she can trust Lily and Marlene blindly, without question. It’s just that they’ve always been quieter about their friendship. They don’t feel the need to make a big show of it like the boys do, because it’s not something that needs to be shouted from the rooftops. It’s for them, and it’s beautiful, and wonderful, and that’s enough. The three of them ‘til the very end. Ride or die. Always and forever, in this lifetime and the next.

Even now that Lily’s with James, the three of them are still close. But… well. Look, Mary would never let her feelings come in the way of her friendship with Lils. But there’s no denying the feelings, either. She’s in love with her best friend. Tale as old as time. Because Lily Evans is stunning. She’s clever and she’s kind, but she’s never, never let anybody dim her blinding sparkle. She takes no shit, and she can dish back whatever people give her.

Mary’s never going to know what it’s like to be more than Lily’s friend, and she’s trying- she’s trying so hard- to be okay with that.

“Doesn’t have to be bullshit,” Marlene says with a shrug, pulling Mary out of her thoughts. She removes her arm from around Mary’s shoulders. “Even people in the midst of their year of self love can have bad nights.”

Mary huffs a little laugh, turning to face Marlene. “You always know the right thing to say, huh, McKinnon?”

Marlene snorts. “Now, you and I both know that’s not true.”

Mary nods, grinning at Marlene. They sit there together for a bit, chatting aimlessly, until Marlene says she’s got to go to bed.

So Mary ends up on her own again. And it’s okay, it’ll be okay.

She’s more than just the girl who’s tragically in love with Lily Evans.

She’s strong. She’s gentle, too, and emotional, and patient, and impatient, and a woman, and a little girl, and brave, and scared, and vulnerable, and prickly, and soft, and a best friend, and a fighter, and a lover, and a keeper of secrets, and a muggle-born, and wise, and naive, and innocent, and not innocent, and in love, and curious, and loved.

She’s figuring her shit out, one day at a time. She’s a bitch. She won’t let anybody other than herself tell her what she can and can’t be.

James.

As soon as he opens his eyes, James knows that there’s a good chance it isn’t going to be a very good day. His head feels all sticky, because there’s not really a better word for it, and when he looks to his right and sees red hair splayed across the pillow, there’s a dull ache in his chest instead of the usual warm glow. He knew this was coming.

Lily stirs a bit next to him, blinking groggily and scrubbing a hand across her eyes. She catches him looking at her and rolls her eyes, reaching out to shove pitifully at his chest.

“Such a freak, Potter,” she teases. “Didn’t your mum ever teach you it’s not polite to stare?”

James laughs, the weight in his chest twisting and twisting until it loosens its grip on him just slightly, but Lily frowns almost immediately, pushing herself up on her elbow. “What? What’s wrong?”

He blinks at her, stunned. James spent years looking at Lily. At her fiery red hair and her sparkling green eyes and the way she twisted the world around her fingertips and made everybody feel special and important. It’s still surprising to him that maybe she’d been looking at him, too. Noticing him. Memorizing him. Now, she knows him well enough to know when a laugh is only half-genuine.

James doesn’t know what to say. Doesn’t know how to tell her, so he just moves closer, settling his head on her chest and closing his eyes. He feels her fingers brush through his hair carefully, working through the inevitable knots that formed in the night. “Okay,” she murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss against his temple. “Okay, we can just… be.”

______

James Potter has never been able to stop loving somebody once he starts. He gives away pieces of his heart like they’re endless, because they are, sort of, he thinks.

He’s loved Lily since they were eleven years old and she popped her head into the train compartment to complain about the noise they were making. Something in his chest shifted and he thought- even then- oh. I love her. I’m always going to love her. Lily is a force of nature. She’s wild and beautiful and strong and brave, and he can’t imagine a world without her (and lucky for him, he’ll never have to). She makes him feel like the first days of spring, when the ground thaws and the flowers bloom and you’re reminded that life really isn’t so awful, after all.

He’s loved Sirius for just as long- the long-haired, tragically posh boy who sat with his back straight and was so afraid that people would hear his last name and turn their backs on him. He’s loved Sirius fiercely, always, through everything. Even in fifth year, when Sirius had done something unforgivable, James couldn’t stop loving him. He still wonders what sort of a person that makes him.

And then… and then.

And then there’s the name that he can hardly even think of most days because it feels like a bitter knife, twisting and twisting into his back, making its home there, making him wish that he could pick and choose which memories to hold onto. And then there’s Regulus.

Regulus.

And James can’t quite stop loving him, either. His soft curls and his sharp jawline, the scar cutting across his shoulder where he fell when he was a kid. The way his laugh always sort of sounded like it was shocked out of him, like he couldn’t believe anybody had the audacity to be funny. His elegant fingers and the way they could touch so gently even after years of being reminded that being gentle was being weak and being weak was unacceptable. His knees pulled to his chest up at the Astronomy Tower, curling in on himself, saying, “Well, who the fuck do you think made sure Sirius got to your house in the first place that night, Potter?” the first time that James realized Regulus might actually love Sirius just as much as he did, and maybe even more. His head tilted up to look at the stars, mapping out his family tree up there in the big dark sky.

James can’t forget it. And he can’t stop loving Regulus, which is awful because James does love Lily, he does, and he’s happy with her, but heartbreak is the sort of thing that sinks its dirty claws into you and never quite lets go.

James knew this was coming. This feeling. The tragic emptiness. Because Regulus turns seventeen today, and instead of being wrapped up in James’ arms he’s at Grimmauld place with a snake on his arm, probably having talks of a marriage he never even wanted in the first place.

And the worst part is that James can’t tell anybody. Lily wouldn’t even be mad at him, he’s almost sure of it, because she’s wise and she knows that the love he still has for Regulus is different than the love he has for her, and she knows that he’d die for her in a heartbeat.

And maybe he will. One day.

James has been staring out the window in the sitting room for some time now, and he finally gets to his feet, slipping out the door and down the beach and to the ocean, and he kicks his shoes off and hikes up his trousers and wades in ankle-deep.

He’ll be better tomorrow. It’s just that this time last year, Regulus snuck away from Grimmauld Place and the two of them went to Muggle London and poked around bookstores and charity shops and Regulus looked so happy in that moment that James was a little bit blinded by it. Sirius is the brightest star in the sky, sure, but Regulus always had a startling, subtle, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it sort of glow. James loved it. He loved everything about Regulus. He loved it all unconditionally, the way he loves everything.

They were never meant to last. But sometimes the most fleeting things are the ones that never leave you.

James looks up at the sky. He’s been on his own, most of the day. He knows it’s selfish, and he knows that he’s not as good of a person as his friends think. He knows, he knows, he knows. It’s a burden and a blessing, how much he knows. He looks up at the sky but it’s pointless because the star he’s looking for isn’t visible this time of year, anyway. It’s pointless because the star he’s looking for is miles away, trapped in a house and a life that he never deserved. James wraps his arms around his middle like he’s trying to hold himself together. Tomorrow will be better.

One day he’ll tell everyone. Lily, and Remus, and Peter, and even Sirius.

But for now, it’s just his. His to hold and his to grieve. He isn’t ready to share this part of himself quite yet, and he can only hope that his friends understand that when he finally is ready.

Later, he goes back inside and curls up with Lily and she kisses him sweetly and looks at him with worry in her eyes.

“I love you. You know that, right?” He asks, looking up at her.

“I know that,” she says, hand on his cheek. “I love you too.”

“I love you,” he says again, blinking quickly.

“I know, James,” she says again, smiling sadly. “I’m sorry today was a bit shit for you.”

He tries for a wry smile. “It’s alright. Tomorrow will be better.”

It is. He’s right. Tomorrow is better. And the next day, and the next month, and then the months get longer and darker and colder, and suddenly it’s a bit harder to pretend that tomorrow is going to be better. They’re kids fighting in a war, and they don’t know how to kiss their futures goodbye, don’t know how to look death in the eye and walk towards her kindly because they’re kids. They’re just kids.

And through it all, James carries all the people he’s ever loved gently in his hands. He never quite learns how to put any of them down.

Marlene.

Besotted. Smitten. Charmed.

Marlene’s keeping a running list of things in her head of all the different ways of saying she’s in love, because holy shit is she in love. She wakes up most days and wonders how it’s possible that she got so bloody lucky. It’s the middle of the night now, and she’s just… staring at the woman sleeping next to her. Dorcas’ eyes are closed and she’s breathing deeply. Everything about her is soft, like this. The gentle curve of her waistline, the way her fingers twitch slightly, how one leg is on top of the covers and one underneath because she says it’s the perfect balance of temperature. Marlene breathes in and out and watches Dorcas because she’s a bit of a freak, but also, like, she’s allowed to watch.

Dorcas cracks an eye open and looks back up at her.

“You’ve got some sort of weird, witchy sixth sense,” Marlene says, and Dorcas grins sleepily, yawning. “Always know when I’m staring at you.”

“Nah, love, it’s just that you’re always staring at me,” Dorcas replies and Marlene scowls until Dorcas reaches out, pulling Marlene close, down, in for a kiss. Her lips are soft and she still vaguely tastes like toothpaste. Marlene melts into the kiss, returning it eagerly, hand sliding down to rest against Dorcas’ waist. Dorcas sits up slowly as they kiss, her fingers tangling in Marlene’s hair, hand resting on the small of her back, pulling her closer. It’s gentle and firm and nice. Marlene hasn’t kissed many people in her life, but Dorcas is the best. Marlene is about 99% sure that nobody’s better at kissing than Dorcas, actually, but she’s not interested in trying to prove her theory.

Dorcas shifts, pressing a trail of kisses down Marlene’s neck and Marlene shivers, her whole body feeling electric. She tips her head back, just a little, giving Dorcas room. Eventually, Dorcas lifts her head again, meeting Marlene’s gaze.

“You’re beautiful, Marls,” she murmurs, and Marlene swallows, breath a little shaky, in a good way.

“That’s you,” she says, leaning in to kiss Dorcas again. “You’re beautiful.”

Dorcas hums, shaking her head. “Don’t need to do that, you know,” she says, quirking a little smile. “I’d like to just compliment you sometimes, you know, without you feeling like you’ve got to say it back.”

“But I mean it,” Marlene argues. Dorcas grins, leaning forward, hand on Marlene’s chest as she pushes her gently back onto the bed.

“I know you do, love,” she murmurs, then leans in, kissing Marlene’s cheek, her forehead, her mouth. Marlene’s lips part and she arches her back, just a little. Dorcas pulls back, pushing Marlene’s hair out of her eyes, smiling down at her.

“Marlene?” She asks, voice soft and sweet like honey.

“Yes?”

“Can I show you how beautiful I think you are?”

Marlene swallows, eyes fluttering shut. “Yes.”

Yes, yes, yes.

______________

It’s funny to think how hesitant Marlene was, initially, to let Dorcas into their little group of friends. It had always just been the three of them: Mary, Lily, Marlene. The idea of someone else entering the fold had frustrated her. It had been Lily’s idea, initially. She and Dorcas had been paired in Potions in sixth year, and Marlene remembers the night that Lily floated the idea to them. Dorcas had confided in Lily during a study session, telling her how she was starting to learn that her friends were all a bit… different than she’d thought. Dorcas had always hung around Regulus’ friend group. And while she’d never had anything bad to say about Regulus- in fact, she’d gotten into an argument or two with Sirius about him- the same couldn’t be said for the others.

Marlene’s own bias had come to the surface. Look, it’s not her fault that most of the members of Slytherin are slimy, evil, Voldemort-worshipping gits. “Not most of them,” Dorcas would remind her, gently. “Just the loudest ones.” To which Marlene would concede, because Dorcas is always sort of right, or Marlene just loves her enough to pretend she is.

Eventually, hesitantly, Dorcas had become a staple in their group. She was quiet, but not in a shy way. More in a way that left you feeling like she was… observing you. Reading all of your innermost thoughts and secrets and understanding you on a deeper level than you understood yourself. Marlene fell for her quickly, head over heels in a fearless sort of way. Dorcas is the perfect balance. Levelhead to Marlene’s hothead. Quiet to Marlene’s loud. Gentle to Marlene’s brash. They fit together so easily that Marlene can hardly remember a time when Dorcas didn’t feel like a part of her.

The first time Dorcas had kissed her, it had come as a surprise. They were sitting out by the lake and Marlene was complaining- loudly and probably obnoxiously- about the amount of homework that McGonagall had given them over the winter holiday. She’d just wound back up to her third rant when Dorcas leaned in, pressing their lips together.

Marlene had pulled back after a couple of seconds, wide-eyed and at a loss for words.

“Why’d you do that?!” She had asked. And then, because she’s an idiot, she added, “I wasn’t done talking!”

Dorcas had smiled, tucking a braid behind her ear. “Yeah, well, I figured it’d be an effective way of shutting you up.” She paused, laughing at the affronted look on Marlene’s face. “And besides, I really wanted to kiss you.”

“I- yes, I- well, I wanted to kiss you too, actually, I’ve wanted to kiss you for, like, ages and ages, and I was gonna do it first, actually, so it’s pretty rude of you to beat me to-”

Dorcas leaned in to kiss her again, and Marlene had kissed her back and they’d both pulled away laughing, soft and gentle and sweet. That had only been the beginning, and Marlene hopes every single day that they’ve got a million more days together.

__________

Things are easy, with Dorcas. Allowing herself to be open and gentle and tender has never really come easily, and it’s still a bit hard even with Dorcas, but she’s getting better at it.

They’re out on the beach, and Marlene has just triedto knock some sense into Sirius, but she’s not sure if it worked. Either way, she’s got more important things to focus on. Like how her girlfriend looks so good in a swimsuit and sunglasses, lying on her back and looking up at the sky.

Marlene is sitting next to her, drying off, and she glances at Dorcas for the millionth time.

“When we grow up, we should live by some water” Marlene says, and Dorcas gives her a soft little smile.

“You think so?”

“Yeah. Somewhere sunny, too, I hate the grey. Maybe we’ll move out here, become Americans.”

Dorcas grimaces. “Unlikely, Marls, but I love your enthusiasm.”

Marlene does this sometimes, and they both silently know what it is. She’s checking, sort of, to make sure Dorcas sees as much of a future with Marlene as Marlene does with Dorcas.

“Can it be somewhere not too far away from a city, though?” Dorcas asks, propping herself up on her elbows. “I just like the idea of being around a lot of stuff, you know? And you should too- you’d get too bored, otherwise.”

Marlene grins, chest a blooming flower. Dorcas always does this. Reassures her. Reminds her that yes, she sees a future with Marlene.

“You’re right! Okay, okay, maybe London wouldn’t be too bad. As long as we can take vacations like this. Oh- I like the London idea, actually! But we’d have to live somewhere I could go flying, yeah? Gotta get out that excess energy so you don’t get too fed up with me. And our flat- Dorcas, our flat has to have a bay window, okay? Because you’d totally sit there and read in the mornings with your tea and I’d come out and look at you and you’d just be a vision.”

Marlene pauses because Dorcas’ full attention is on her and it’s still a bit overwhelming sometimes.

“What?” She asks, sheepishly.

“Marls,” Dorcas says, reaching for her hand. She takes it and presses her lips to Marlene’s knuckles. “The future is so scary.”

Marlene frowns. She hadn’t been expecting that. “No, I know, but-”

Dorcas rolls her eyes and reaches up to press a finger against Marlene’s lips. “I wasn’t finished. The future is scary, but you…” she trails off, shaking her head. “You make it feel less scary, Marlene. You make it feel like something bright and exciting and lovely.”

Marlene swallows, and shakes her head. “Love you,” she says, because she can’t say anything else. Dorcas has a funny way of making her feel like the most important person in the whole entire world. Like the only person in the whole entire world.

“You’re my future, Marls,” Dorcas says, grinning as she leans in to kiss Marlene. And it feels just like the first time they kissed, still as new, and beautiful, and thrilling. “Don’t really care all that much where I end up, as long as it’s with you.”

Marlene’s chest is glowing. She thinks she could lift off into the air and float away, but she doesn’t. She stays here, with Dorcas. She doesn’t think any other person in the whole entire world has ever loved or been loved this beautifully. And what a treasure, she thinks, that she gets to have this. What a treasure, to make sweet, tender promises to each other, and to believe them. What a treasure to love and to be loved just as fully in return.