Promises
Wednesday 6th October 1971
Mary was still in the hospital wing. Although she had originally been pretending to be ill—or at least overplaying how she was feeling—she had come down with something seriously nasty, and Madame Pomfrey thought it so bad that she wasn’t allowed any visitors. (“Please,” Marlene had begged in the hospital wing doorway, right in view of a sleeping Mary, completely knocked out and undisturbed.
“No,” Madame Pomfrey had said brusquely when Marlene didn’t stop. “She’s out cold and has been since last night. She can barely speak, poor thing, her throat’s so sore…” and then, after a thoughtful pause, and the realisation that Marlene wasn’t going to leave until she had answers, “And I don’t want you catching it anyway. It’s rotten and the wing’s almost full—now go to bed.” Have you even checked that she’s alive? Marlene thought wickedly when Madame Pomfrey said she’d been asleep since yesterday.)
Marlene had recounted this interaction to Lily, who shook her head and tutted. Marlene thought that she finally had someone on her side about it, until Lily said “Madame Pomfrey is just so busy! No wonder she couldn’t let you in. Let’s give Mary a get well soon card!” and disappeared into the bathroom to brush her teeth.
Marlene felt disturbingly lonely whenever Mary wasn’t around. Even when they weren’t sitting together in a lesson, or Mary was spending the evening in a different part of Gryffindor tower, Marlene still felt dependent on the other girl, and she knew that Mary also felt dependent on her. But, she couldn’t help but wonder, how much Mary missed her back—Marlene had never had a best friend, not someone who knew everything about her, except for maybe Danny, and she chastised herself for being glum about the absence of someone that she had known for less than a few months. She knew that growing up, she was different, could do things her friends couldn’t and knew that eventually she was going to leave them all for Hogwarts, but those were only childhood friendships, superficial in that all they really did together was play games. In her household, where everyone was quiet—even Danny, who when he was home would play Quidditch in the garden alone, still managed to do it in silence—she never felt alone; you could always feel their presence in a comforting sort of way.
Lily didn’t seem to understand what she was talking about.
“What if she’s scared in there?” Marlene said urgently, feeling like she was talking to a brick wall. Completing a potions assignment off the top of your head would’ve been easier than getting Lily to see her point.
“Scared of what?” Lily replied, blinking confusedly back at Marlene, genuinely oblivious.
“I’ve seen the way that big room’s built.” Marlene shivered just thinking about it. Shadows cast over the cavernous walls, curtains billowed out in the wind at night, silence save for the coughing and occasional ripping of fabric when sheets got changed. “What if she’s having nightmares?” Marlene announced foolishly without thinking. How stupid, Marlene scolded herself, what is Lily going to think now?!
“Madame Pomfrey’ll give her a potion.” Lily shrugged and inspected the inside of her neatly arranged cupboard for a jumper. And then, after thinking carefully for almost a minute, whilst Marlene was feeling too misread to say anything to fill the silence, “Mary’s the bravest out of all of us. She won’t be scared.”
This notion was enough to stop the pounding of Marlene’s heart (—where had that come from, anyway?) and the dumb, helpless feeling of her friend being away. They clambered into their beds; Lily turned the light out, drew her curtains and all went still, and Marlene turned in her own cold bed to watch where Mary should have been sleeping, but wasn’t. Would it really hurt if she snuck into the hospital wing to talk to her? Even just to look at her and know she was okay?
Thursday 7th October 1971
The castle looked different in the twilight. Gloomy grey light cast over the stone walls, soft thud of rain against the windows, paintings that sometimes spoke to each other, but were mostly all asleep.
“What are you doing girl?” one called out.
Marlene looked up. It was a kindly old man, eyes wrinkled from smiling his whole life, not so different to Dumbledore himself. “I’m finding my friend in the hospital wing.”
The portrait shaded his eyes with a hand pressed to the forehead, squinting at Marlene’s light and called out, “Good luck!” Then, inexplicably, he rose from his chair and walked, quite literally, out of the picture. Marlene watched as he passed through the paintings down the rest of the corridor one by one: puffskeins rolling around on a forest floor that moved when he passed through, a phoenix showing off its big red plumes, and eventually the wizard disappeared, nowhere to be seen.
The hospital wing door was right at the end of the corridor. Marlene stared at the big handles that crashed against their metal frames and the wood that scraped the floor when they opened when Madame Pomfrey was being hasty. In fact, Marlene started to wonder, how she was going to get in here at all without opening the giant-sized double doors and revealing herself to the whole wing.
She paced up and down trying to find another entrance. The clock chimed once and it rung in Marlene’s ears, making her suddenly conscious of her own watch, which was glowing gently through her sleeve—if she didn’t give herself away, her watch would. Better yet, it was less than eight hours before she’d have to be standing in potions with those two Hufflepuffs who were awkward enough on their own as it was. Racking her brains, she tried to remember: wasn’t there a spell that made you invisible? Danny mentioned there was one that made everyone else unable to listen to your conversation, but that didn’t seem to include muting footsteps, and all too complex to try and do now.
“Have you seen your friend yet?” A voice said behind her.
Marlene turned around. It was the old wizard from the portrait again, this time inside a painting with a knight who seemed peeved that he had to share with someone. “No,” she said, stupidly looking down at the floor.
“She doesn’t lock the doors,” he said.
“Who doesn’t?” Marlene said, panicking.
“The medi-witch.” He beamed at her.
“But the doors—they’ll make a noise!” She squeaked, feeling her face getting hot.
“I’ll stand and guard. You can always blame it on Peeves,” he said, his golden robes glittering.
Marlene turned around and shoved the doors open with her whole bodyweight. They made an awful clamour, but nobody inside seemed to stir. The doors closed behind her on their own and made a great slam, and Marlene crept, as diligently as she could, down to where Mary was supposed to be.
“Marlene?” Mary whispered loudly, making Marlene giggle.
“I snuck in! I wanted to see you!” Marlene said, trying to keep her voice down, though it was difficult when Mary was grinning back at her like she had just been given a kitten.
“I missed you!” she said, quite audibly.
“Madame Pomfrey didn’t let me see you,” Marlene said, sitting down in the chair next to Mary, who reached out to grab the arm of it, wanting the chair to be right next to her bed. The girls held hands together for a moment, celebrating. Then, Mary’s face fell, a gut-wrenching ghost of longing suspended in the hazy darkness.
“Can you write to my mum, tomorrow morning?” Mary said, sniffing. “I haven’t been able to tell her where I am, and she’ll get so worried! Madame Pomfrey hasn’t let me write to her at all, said I need lots and lots of rest.”
“Mary, you must lie down,” Marlene started in a low voice, in perfect imitation of the nurse: hands on hips, severe tone of voice. “I’ve got to give you this potion, it’s going to make you all better, and it tastes like it will burn your insides, and you’re not allowed any visitors!”
Mary clapped her hands over her mouth and her body crumpled in laughter, “Stop, Marlene,” she said, wheezing, “She’s nicer than that!” Nonetheless, Mary continued to wail silently.
“I think she’s a miserable old cow!” Marlene whispered, smiling back at Mary despite the thought of Madame Pomfrey saying “no” earlier that day. “She wouldn’t let me see you!”
“She knows you’re a pain in the arse, that’s why! I bet if you sent Lily down to see me she would have let her in!”
“Oi!” Marlene said, breathless from laughter and the joy of seeing Mary again. “She doesn’t think you’re that ill—I said to her, ‘what if Mary’s lonely’, and she said, ‘Madame Pomfrey will take care of her’!”
“Well, she’s not half bad, you know,” Mary said, pulling her duvet up to her neck, teeth chattering for a second. “She’s awake all the time, I’m surprised you managed to even get in here without her noticing.”
“Well, I’m here now,” Marlene said after an awkward pause.
Mary yawned. “I want to sleep, Marlene, but will you stay with me? I promise if Madame Pomfrey comes I’ll wake up and you can blame me!”
Unexpectedly, Marlene felt saddened at the fact that Mary would want to throw herself under the bus for Marlene, particularly since it was her idea in the first place. “I’ll stay, but don’t tell on me if she asks,” Marlene said, holding out her pinkie-finger and linking it with Mary’s.
“Okay,” Mary said, resigning; exhausted. “I promise. Do you promise you’ll write to mum tomorrow for me?”
“Yes,” Marlene said, hissing whisper in the dusky, sick hospital air. “I promise you. Anything.”
They let go and Mary lay back: closed eyes, breathing steadied, though—Marlene thought she was just imagining it—Mary seemed to be smirking slightly, even when unconscious. She wondered what the always optimistic girl was dreaming about. It didn’t really matter, though, as long as Mary was happy.
***
“McKinnon!” Marlene could hear someone shouting in the distance. “Miss McKinnon!”
Marlene woke up with a start, Madame Pomfrey lecturing her from the other side of Mary’s bed. She was filling Mary’s cup with something, thick, pungent; Marlene could smell it from where she was sitting, and looked down at Mary herself, face buried in her pillow. “What are you doing here?” Madame Pomfrey continued, now rearranging the things on top of the night-table.
“Oh, um…” Marlene’s eyes trailed over Mary. “I didn’t want Mary to be alone.”
Madame Pomfrey gave Marlene a scathing look. “What time did you come?”
“Early this morning?” Marlene said, testing the waters.
Madame Pomfrey exhaled loudly, checking her watch. “I should send you to your lesson, but you’ve already missed the first one, and I don’t suppose that if I told you to go you’d go anyway.” Marlene smiled at her in thanks. “But as soon as Mary wakes up, you’ll have to go back,” Madame Pomfrey added as if to reassure Marlene that she wasn’t off the hook quite yet. “And I’ll have to tell Professor McGonagall where you are.”
Marlene wanted to argue back, but she thought perhaps it was best just to leave it. She watched as Madame Pomfrey whisked away, walking briskly around, filling up people’s cups with ugly-looking potions and a self-writing quill ticking things off on a piece of parchment that hovered right behind her head.
Wednesday 13th October 1971
“Madame Pomfrey says I should start going back to lessons now,” Mary said, sighing exasperatedly and taking a sip of water from her goblet.
“You’ve missed quite a lot,” Lily smiled, taking the goblet out of Mary’s hands and placing it on the night-table. “Marlene and I have done your homework, though, so you’ll be all caught up!”
Mary grinned, albeit still under the weather, at Marlene, who was sitting at the end of Mary’s bed, and then thanked Lily.
The autumn sun poured in through the hospital wing windows, and the trees from outside shone brilliant emerald-green, clearly intense even from the dull hospital wing. The past week had been an absolute nightmare: Lily and Marlene staying up until the small hours of the morning trying to do Mary’s work for her, having to sit in classes alone (the combination of sleepless, colourless nights, wind blowing in through the windows bringing the rain-water with it and the piles of homework that only made the loneliness worse; it made Marlene reminiscent of the first few weeks of September, something she didn’t think she was ever going to think of all that fondly), and worst of all, running out of things to talk about with Lily. Two awkward girls in a room for that long did neither of them well, and they were both exhausted from simply being in each other’s company for that long, a thought Marlene felt guilty about, but could tell Lily was probably thinking the same thing.
Lily gave a sharp gasp and started rifling through her bag.
“What?” Marlene said, suddenly panicking—had they forgotten something important?
“Here,” Lily said, producing a stack of thick envelopes, neatly bound together with string. “These are the letters from your mum. Looks like she’s been worried about you…” She handed them to Mary, who seemed to be suppressing a laugh.
“She does like to panic, that woman,” Mary said. Marlene thought she saw sadness cross her face in a split-second.
“Yes…” Lily said. “It was quite difficult trying to get her to calm down…”
“She thought you were actually in hospital,” Marlene explained, when Lily looked too embarrassed, cheeks faded into pink. “Didn’t trust the wizard healing.”
“Well,” Mary said, patting the envelopes which were on her lap. “I didn’t either. I was sure that Madame Pomfrey was going to kill me with that bloody Pepper Up potion.”
“It tastes like it could kill you,” Marlene remarked.
Mary burst into laughter.
“Shhh!” Lily said, finger to lips, eyes scanning the room in paranoia.
Mary and Marlene continued to cackle in hysterics, until Mary began to wheeze. Abruptly, Lily stood up and shoved the goblet into Mary’s hand.
“Pomfrey said I should be better by tomorrow morning, but I’m not so sure,” Mary said after the fuss had died down, and Madame Pomfrey had marched over, threatening to send Marlene and Lily out.
“Please,” Marlene said, a bit too quickly. The two other girls looked at her, trying to conceal their own surprise. Mary raised an eyebrow at Marlene and cocked her head, smirking.
“I’ll try,” Mary said, trying not to laugh.
Lily, seemingly unaware and standing up looking for a clock, said, “Marlene, what time is it? I think we ought to be heading off.”
“Oh, um,” Marlene said, taken aback by Mary’s silent teasing. “It’s five minutes until herbology.”
“We’d better be on our way then,” Lily said, reaching over to squeeze Mary’s hand, and picking up her stuff.
As they started to leave, Marlene managed to loiter a bit behind Lily. She turned around and mouthed the word “sorry” to Mary whose faced cracked into a grin and mimed back, “I’ll get you” and drew a finger across her neck.
Friday 15th October 1971
The air outside was cool and crisp; the grass, just visible from the dorm window was covered in dew, and the girls hauled on their still brand-new scarlet knits. There was a slight tension in the atmosphere; Mary and Lily had never flown before, and Marlene had been craving to get back on a broomstick ever since the end of August.
On the pitch, everyone was just as anxious. The ones that had flown before wouldn’t stop going on about it, and the most self-absorbed ones (namely Potter) made a point to let everyone know that they had their own broomsticks at home. Once they were actually allowed to fly, several kids showed off, doing loops and zigzags; some even did sharp drops, pretending to fall and then zooming back up into the sky when they got near the ground. Marlene watched with a coy ache; she could do all those things, but Mary was barely able to get off the ground, gripping onto the handle as if she was at a great height that she could fall from.
“It’s not scary,” Marlene said, trying to sound reassuring, though it was wearing off now. This was the one thing she had been waiting to do since she got here, and now she couldn’t.
“It’s not the same for me, Marlene. I barely understood what magic was two months ago, let alone the fact that you wizards actually ride on magic broomsticks!”
“Okay, well,” Marlene started, trying to encourage Mary and make her less afraid. On the other side of the pitch, Lily’s red head could be seen talking to Remus and there was a small cluster of others in the far corner who appeared to be chatting excitedly about something, barely interested in learning to fly. “Don’t forget you’re a witch too.”
Mary sneezed abruptly. “I still don’t feel good. You should start flying; I’m going back to Madame Pomfrey for some more potions.”
“Oi! McKinnon!” someone shouted from the sky. “Too scared to fly?”
Marlene looked up; some smug Slytherin hovering over them, orbiting and doing all kinds of tricks, doing a V-sign with one hand, the other one keeping him balanced on the broomstick. On closer inspection, she realised it was Severus, his long black hair blown into his face from the wind and green robes ballooned out from underneath the broomstick. She felt her cheeks blossom into bright red, not saying anything back to him. Was this how it was going to be from now on? People taking the piss all because of Danny?
Mary tossed her hair behind her head and crossed her arms, shivering nervously. Madame Hooch blew her whistle and Marlene watched as Mary jumped, skittish and agitated.
“People are just being horrible now,” Mary said, looking down at the ground.
“I don’t care,” Marlene said defiantly. As soon as she said it she realised it probably did sound like she cared. Her face was still flushed red and she swallowed hard.
“I’m sorry.” Mary took Marlene’s hand for a moment and then mounted the broom properly, indicating for Marlene to show her what to do.
Within ten painstaking minutes, they were both off the ground. Mary hovered reluctantly, arms rigid, eyes wide with fear, and they had to go slowly, stay close to the ground, don’t do any sharp turns, but once they landed Mary seemed better, more or less herself again.