It’s stupid. It’s seriously so stupid. This stigma around Muggleborns. People think they are gross and wrong and don’t deserve a place in Wizard Society.
It’s stupid. Some of the greatest witches and wizards of all time have been Half-blood or Muggleborn. But still, that stigma goes on.
Mary hates it. When people talk badly about Muggleborns she feels ill. She can feel the bile rise in her throat as she tries to speak but can’t manage a word out. Can’t get a word out to defend her.
Lily Evans. Mary’s best friend. Mary’s first kiss. Mary’s first love. Mary’s soulmate.
Lily Evans is the light out of a dark tunnel that Mary was stuck in. The end goal. The perfect partner. Yet here Mary stands, surrounded by Snivellus’ cronies turned death eaters, unable to get a word out.
“Speak up, Macdonald,” Mulciber teases, stepping forwards and caressing Mary’s jaw softly. She bites the inside of her lip in an attempt to stop the trembling.
“She won’t,” Lily says, from where she’s held by a still masked death eater. “She knows better than to sink to the lows of people like you, if you even count as people.”
Severus is staring at his feet, desperately avoiding eye contact with Lily. The girl he was friends with all those years ago. The girl he onced loved. It makes Mary sick to think about it. He claims to love Lily but works in the very group that is trying to destroy people like her.
“You all disgust me,” Mary chokes out, hands shaking.
A burst of blue light hits her. Lily screams. Mary can taste her own blood. Pain shoots up her spine. Fuck. Is this it?
4 years of fighting in a war where people won’t stop dying and Mary just so happens to die four days before her step-sons birthday? At least Regulus will still be there to give him his present.
Mary doesn’t know when it happened but she’s on the floor, blood pooling in her mouth and staining her clothes. What was that spell?
Green light flashes brighter than anything Mary has seen and suddenly there are hands on her. Two soft small hands. Lily. Her Lily.
“Mare,” Lily sobs, clutching at Mary’s shoulder as she senselessly casts healing charms in a desperate attempt to heal her, or atleast stem the flow of her blood. “You’ll be okay. Just hold on, James and Marlene are coming. You’re safe.”
Mary opens her eyes and sees her love’s bright ginger hair and pigmented green eyes and it warms her on the cold streets of Diagon Alley. Lily’s pale skin and soft freckles, her touches in the dead of night, the look on her face when she holds Harry. Lily swirls through her brain.
She looks to where the death eaters were. They were all lying, crumpled corpses on the cobbled street. Lily had killed them. All of them. Even Severus Snape. For Mary.
“Lily,” Mary whispers, trying to speak.
Shushing her, Lily strokes the girl’s face, “Save your energy, baby.”
“No,” Mary says, attempting to sit up but a shooting pain soars through her stomach. “I need you to know that I love you. You saved me, Evans. I used to be confused about my life, my family, my sexuality. But then you showed up and made everything right. You make everything right Lily Evans.”
Lily wracks out a sob, “This sounds a lot like a goodbye, Mary. I can’t- I can’t lose you.”
“Yes you can, Lils,” Mary says, raising a hand to cup her girlfriend’s cheek. “You are so strong, my love. You’ll get over me and run away with Harry and some pretty woman, maybe with a child of her own. Harry would love a little sister.”
Lily’s small frame shakes with sobs, “You can’t leave me Mare. I need you. Harry needs you.”
Guilt fills Mary. How can she be so fine about leaving Harry? Leaving Lily.
It takes an army to raise a Potter, Mary reminds herself. And an army they have. Harry has his godfathers, Remus and Sirius. He has his dad and his step-dad. He has his uncles, Barty and Evan. His aunts, Marlene, Dorcas and Pandora. He has Frank and Alice. He has Kingsley. He has Emmeline and Vanity.
But most importantly, he had Lily. And Lily has him. That alone assures Mary that everything will be fine once she’s gone. And she will be gone. Mary doesn’t doubt that one bit.
“You have each other,” Mary whispers, pressing a hand to the flesh above Lily’s heart. “And I will be here too. Watching you and watching Harry. It’s not goodbye. It’s an ‘I’ll wait for you’.”
And that’s the last Mary says. She passes out from blood loss and by the time James and Marlene show up with the Aurors, Mary Macdonald has breathed her last breath.
Lily was found lying. Releasing heart shattering sobs. Surrounded by dead death eaters and her dead love.
Lily never got over Mary. She never loved again. At least not in the romantic sense.
She lived a life rich with love, her love for Harry, her love for Remus, her love for James. But she never felt romantic love. No. Never.
All her life she always had a nagging voice in the back of her head.
A voice that wanted Mary there.