November 17th, 2001.
Harry had never been interested in fashion. He’d rather live in comfort than in style, but if he wanted to win over his long-term crush, Draco Malfoy, he knew he’d have to start considering his outfit choices a little more. When he walks past Draco, Harry wants him to stop and appreciate what he’s wearing, maybe check out his arse a bit.
Thumbing through a rack of dress trousers, he wonders which pair will make his arse stand out the most. There were so many options, here in this new little high-end fashion store in Diagon Alley.
It’s an elegant store, newly opened only a week prior. Harry was pleasantly surprised to find himself having fun. Shopping has never been his thing, but the ambient lighting, relaxing music and golden accents that float over the wallpaper help him enter a state of quiet calmness that he hasn’t felt in a long time.
Deciding he has enough clothes for today, he walks away from the rack of trousers and towards the front of the store to check out. He went to Gringotts before this, thinking that the pouch of Galleons he had wouldn’t be enough for what was considered high fashion, but was happily surprised when he found that although the clothing was extremely good quality and had charms set in place to make the fabric fit his figure perfectly, everything was all very cheap.
No one is behind the counter when Harry gets there, so he rings the small bell that’s sat by a huge peppermint scented candle. “Just a moment!” Comes a woman’s voice from the back room, so Harry dumps the pile of clothing he has acquired onto the counter and waits patiently, humming to himself quietly.
“Hi, Sir. Sorry about the wait today!” The shop owner says, rushing through the back door. She freezes when she sees him, face falling from a beautiful smile to a stricken expression, like she hadn’t expected Harry to be in her store. He’s used to people recognising him, but this is different. She looks sad.
She is a gorgeous woman. Skin dark like milk chocolate, hair black, braided and clad with silver charms. Her eyes are big and round, her lips full and painted red. She’s short, but wearing heeled boots that compliment her skirt and blouse perfectly.
Harry doesn’t know what to say to her. His gaze travels back up to her face, her eyes now brimmed with unshed tears, and what he means to say is “Hi, don’t worry about it. You’re not keeping me from anything,” but instead, he says, “Are you alright?”
She laughs attractively, shaking her head and unfreezing, moving behind the counter and levelling Harry with a warm look. “You know, I don’t really think I am, Kiddo. Having you here has made me feel a lot better than I’ve felt in a long time, though.”
Confusion washes over him, even more when those tears end up falling slowly down her cheeks. Has he met her before?
Furrowing his brows, he asks, “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but do we know each other?”
The woman smiles fondly at him, a motherly sort of look in her eyes that makes Harry feel unusually settled. “No, I suppose we don’t. Not anymore, at least.”
“Not anymore?”
She looks around, scanning their surroundings. Coming to whatever conclusion, she replies, “I don’t know if this is the kind of conversation we should have in my store.”
“Please,” Harry begs, feeling suddenly desperate to know why this stranger is so upset at the sight of him. “I don’t mind where we are. Please tell me.”
She hesitates, a mental battle clearly raging on in her head, but eventually gives in with a sigh. “Your mother was my best friend. We went to school together, shared a dorm room for seven years. I was there for the first full year of your life. I’m just really happy to see you. You look so well,” She worries her bottom lip between her paper white teeth, sheepish as she rambles. “I know this is weird, I’m a stranger. I’m sorry,” She wipes her eyes, waving a hand in front of her face.
Harry is in disbelief. His mother’s best friend?
“You were...” He stumbles over his words, feeling slightly out of breath, “What? Who are you?”
“My name is Mary. Mary Macdonald.”
Recognition hits Harry like a tidal wave because that name, Mary Macdonald, that really is the name of his mother’s best friend. He had heard so many stories about his parents' school days through Remus and Sirius, and Mary was almost always included in the stories that starred his mum. Harry thinks that Sirius mentioned dating her at one point.
“Oh,” Harry breathes out, almost silently.
Mary’s eyebrows furrow, “You know who I am?” Harry nods, “How?”
“Sirius,” He whispers, tears forming in his eyes. Mary looks shocked at the name of the man she used to go to school with and Harry immediately gets defensive. “That expression. Please don’t do that.”
“What do you mean, love?”
Flinching slightly at the nickname, Harry says firmly, “Sirius was innocent. Surely you heard?”
She looks confused, but Harry is pleased to see that she doesn’t look surprised. A relieved smile pulls at her lips, though grief is written all over her face. “No... I didn’t hear,” Her breaths stutter and she starts crying silently, tears spilling down her face in an endless stream. Quickly, she runs over to the door and flips the sign from opened to closed. “Thank you. Thank you for telling me that. I don’t know if I would have been able to live with myself if I went any longer thinking that he was guilty. Thank you, Harry.”
Smiling sadly at the use of his name, Harry tells her, “He talked about you. All the time.”
Her eyes light up at that, “He talks about me?”
He nods, “That’s how I know who you are. But,” Harry trailed off, the memory of Remus telling him about Mary Macdonald – the witch that Obliviated herself right after the first Wizarding War ended – resurfacing.
Mary somehow knows what Harry is thinking and asks, “You heard that I Obliviated myself?” He nods and she continues, “I modified the spell to last no more than twenty years. I lived in France until last week. The spell lifted only a few weeks ago.”
“You modified the spell?” She hums, nodding. “I thought that was impossible! I mean, Sirius mentioned you were a great witch, Remus said so too, but that? You really did that? My best friend Hermione would be so impressed.”
Mary’s eyes light up, the tears that were starting to slow down coming back in full force. “Remus? Remus is alive, too?” Harry looks down, willing himself not to cry, and Mary lets out a heart breaking noise. “What about Sirius? I just assumed...”
Harry shakes his head, tears falling even as he tries his hardest to keep them in. It’s no use, not when he watches Mary’s face crumble in real time.
One moment they’re standing at opposite sides of the counter, and the next, Harry is behind it with Mary, hugging her tightly, for he knew in that moment, they needed to go through this grief as one. He finds himself feeling so much comfort in her embrace, their shared pain squished in between them as they cry and they cry and they cry.
No one else has ever understood his grief quite like he imagines Mary does. She felt it enough to remove the memories from her brain, something Harry considered doing himself. Sure, his friends have experienced more pain and heartbreak that anyone should have to go through because of the war, but this is different. Mary knew his parents. Knew Sirius. Knew Remus. She knows exactly how this feels. Strangely, Harry finds comfort in it.
They somehow end up curled around each other on the floor, limbs sprawled over each other as their shoulders bared the tears of one another.
“I’m glad we’ve found each other, Harry,” She sniffles over his shoulder, voice small. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.”
“Don’t apologise,” He says instantly. It’s not her fault. She was safer where she was, anyway. “We have each other now. I would’ve done the same thing if I was in your position.”
“You were, though. You were in the same situation, and you were strong enough to deal with it differently. I’m so glad you’re here. You’re a fighter, Harry, just like your parents.”
They sit like that for a while, occasional sniffles echoing through the dimly lit room. They don’t do much talking, they just sit there, soaking up as much comfort as they can.
What neither Harry nor Mary knew was that the ghosts of James, Lily, Sirius and Remus were there with them, tangled around them and trying to radiate as much love as they could. They all cried, too, for the family they got taken away from.
Well , the ghost version of Lily thought, at least they’ve got each other .