The Hogwarts Express
Dear Mary,
Do you fancy James? I only ask because everyone thinks I ought to and I feel like I wouldn’t know the feeling if it struck me across the face, or that it has struck me in the face so many times my skin has begun to go numb to the ordeal. There are two emotions with him, blind rage and intense curiosity. It would be easier if I was stepping on your toes somehow. If you want to be the lucky girl to settle down with the fella, I would have no complaints. If not, I fear it ought to be me. Sometimes, I fear I want it to be me.
It’s probably my mind just playing tricks on me. The only other person I’ve thought of all summer is you, and it’s doing me in. Petunia says I’m going mad. If you could keep it quiet, still. I don’t want Marlene telling him over locker room chit chat.
(P.S. Girl talk isn’t as good through pieces of parchment.)
(P.P.S. That means I miss you.)
With sickeningly confused feelings,
Lily Evans
---
Dear Lily,
I don’t fancy James. Not even in the slightest. Out of all his friends, I find him second to least attractive, beating poor Pettigrew, so I can’t really step on your toes at all. Unfortunately, the bloke is all yours. There’s nothing you can do to avoid that. Now, it sounds to me like you fancy him, love him, want him, whatever you want to call it, but that’s my usual assumption. It’s easier to love a guy than to stand in the awful inbetween you’ve got right now. I ask, why not fancy him? Do it for the whim of things!
Still, Petunia’s probably right. That stick up her arse must be clearing the way for some real thinking! I get out every night, and I still feel like I’m going a bit screwy. Every time I’m about to make a bad choice, drink the wrong thing, kiss the wrong bloke, etcetera, etcetera, I find myself coming back to a letter or two. I think, what would I do if I never got to figure out if Lily likes James or not! All this to say, I’m going mad as well. Reason enough for me to keep quiet.
(P.S. It would be nice to see you blush when you think about Potter's glasses, that is quite true.)
(P.P.S. That means I miss you too.)
The Love Doctor,
Mary Macdonald
Chapter 2: The Hogwarts Express
Because her mother didn’t care for her in a very particular way, Mary went to King’s Cross alone. She liked it best that way, to be sure. The most heartfelt farewell she could give the city was on by herself.
Besides, it gave her more time, and stripped her of the added social strain of having her Muggle mother navigate her way onto platform nine and three quarters. Mary preferred to pretend like she knew it all. As a sixth year student, that position wasn’t so hard to fill. Sure, hadn’t Lily been hollering about her Prefect position for the whole of last year? Even Remus, angry, lanky Lupin, had taken it upon himself to hoist those hoighty-toighty duties to the best of his ability, much to the merciless mocking of his friends.
She tightened her grip on the fabric strap that kept her from toppling over into the lap of the elderly man sitting a little ways away from where she was standing. Her trunk provided the only other form of support and protection against the crush of the crowd, and she clung to it like a very desperate life raft.
Mary doubted there were hordes like this in County Kerry, where Lily was traveling from. Ever since she’d read Lily’s letters about the field and farms and utter absence of people, even in their biggest cities, she’d been overwhelmed by the urge to spontaneously visit. If the only money she had wasn’t strictly reserved for getting herself to King’s Cross this time around, she surely would’ve booked herself a spontaneous escape.
Now, packed in between the old man who smelled like a bin and a university bloke who so desperately wanted to look down her shirt, she thought of the countryside and how she wished to transform both of the men into sheep. One day, she vowed, there would be a spell she could perform for that.
***
After the long process of getting there, things were easy on Platform 9 ¾ . She knew the way of getting on well, and it felt nice to look down on the little first years who sheepishly ran their way through the wall and bustled around on the platform. She vividly remembered Sirius Black ridiculing her and her mother when she was a first year. She’d held a mythic grudge over it, cursing his long black hair to turn sickly orange colors and putting hexes on his clothes. The feud had only dwindled to its close when Lily and Remus had conspired together to get them to finally give it up last term. Now, looking back on it, she can’t imagine how she let it go on for so long. Sirius Black, with all of his pompous, rich faults, was exactly her type. Over the summer, in between writing letters, she began to set her mind on him.
Besides, Mary had come into her own this summer. The other girls had no hope to compare to what she’d learned back home. It was a valuable talent to seduce a lad, and more importantly, to seduce a crowd. She knew how to have Hogwarts in the palm of her hand, and she intended to capitalize on that knowledge.
She moved through the train corridor with ease, floating down the hallway until she found Marlene and Lily in a compartment. As always, Mary arrived fashionably late. Though she didn’t like missing out on half of the introductory conversation, she enjoyed all of the mystery it gave her. Really, she was late because her mother was too laid up to get out of bed and the tube had been a mess and after all of that she’d kept her priorities straight and still stopped to buy some cigarettes to exchange with Remus. Whatever glamor could be found in that story completely escaped her.
“Mary!” Lily chirped, swirling her into a hug and a thrill ran up Mary’s spine. She’d imagined her voice this whole summer, picking apart the words in her letters that were so distinctly Lily, but it was shocking to hear it in person.
“We were scared you weren’t going to show,” Marlene chuckled, hugging her too. She was more boyish than Lily, as most girls with six brothers were, and thus a little bit more uncomfortable with the affection. She’d gotten her hair cut over the summer, her straight blonde locks cut choppily into waves that gave the constant impression of movement where it fell on her jaw. It fell into her eyes every so often, and Mary could tell that she just loved to sweep it away, to smile and run a hand over the top of her head.
“I had things to take care of, business as usual!” she replied. She took a seat next to Marlene, wanting to look Lily in the eye and size up the level of what she really understood from their letters.
“Saying ta-ta to someone special?” Marlene made a kissy face and fluttered her eyelashes.
“Nothing of the sort!” Mary tutted, but made eye contact with Lily. She’d told her about things over the summer, about all the boys she dated. First George, then Willie, then Dom, punctuated by an ongoing slew of more minor names. None of them had lasted very long, nor had she liked any of them very much. She’d written to Lily as much, telling her how they kissed and how she couldn’t wait for it to matter. None of that was revealed in her eyes. She kept perfect equilibrium and laughed at Mary’s little quip.
“Setting your sights to term then?” Lily asked, even though she knew all about Mary’s plans. She winked slightly, and Mary breathed a sigh of relief.
“Something like that,” she shrugged with shock, fooling only Marlene with her nonchalance. She didn’t quite believe there wasn’t an ulterior motive in that wink. She didn’t think that someone could know even part of her life over break and stay listening. She expected an immediate smear campaign of epic proportions. She expected posters with slogans and ugly photos. Like the biggest idiot of all, Mary had forgotten that what made Lily so terrifying also made her a complete non-threat. In all technicalities, they were best friends.
Her stomach yanked upwards as the train finally pulled out of the station, but she calmed it quickly. Mary hated queasiness almost as much as she hated the summer.
“Well, I can’t wait for Quidditch,” Marlene began. She had a downright Quidditch addiction, bolstered by James Potter and his religious devotion to the sport.
Mary liked the game as much as she liked the boys who were playing it, which depended from year to year. First term of fifth year, the Hufflepuff keeper had been her guy, so she was quite the devotee. The term after she’d horrifically broken up with him and lost much interest. Lily, different from Mary, supported the Gryffindor team with intense loyalty, except for when it came to Potter. She hated him with a passion seen only in the most romantic of films. She would curse his name, letting giggles slip out at every joke he made. Mary knew better than to believe the feud. She believed the girl was smitten, even though the letters she wrote on the subject were so confused. Lily Evans couldn’t quite make up her mind. Would she love him or would she hate him?
“James has some cracking ideas about schemes and stuff, we’ve been practicing all break long. I’ll eat my wand if we lose again this year.”
“The games should be good then, eh?”
“Oh yes,” Marlene told Lily.
“Terrific!” she giggled in response. Mary would make up Lily’s mind in an instant if she could. Lily Evans would love him. That was as simple as a fairytale.
“So what’s all the team then?” Mary asked. She was intrigued to hear about the inclusion of a certain Sirius Black.
Marlene replied, “James, Frank Longbottom, and Emmeline Vance for Chasers, new blood at Keeper and Seeker, and me and Sirius as Beaters, if all goes to plan.”
She sat back with utter satisfaction set into her face, only broken by a hearty rap on the glass doorway. Her immediate fear gave all the way back to smugness as she saw the glassy pale figure who had knocked so hard on their compartment. All summer long, she’d been right in her musings. His slenderly strong frame, paired with those long strands of black hair, would certainly make them quite the couple. Sirius Black was no slouch, that was to be sure, and even further he had what she needed. Black was not a name that left no recognition. His aura, her poise, and they could be a couple that no one left unannounced.
Sirius slid the door open, posing himself in the frame.
“Girls,” he said.
“Black,” she replied, smirking at him. Thankfully, the boy wasn’t daft. He took her invitation, and claimed the other seat next to her. He threw an arm behind her head and she batted her eyelashes. Quite satisfactorily, she was sure they understood each other.
Remus had already slunk his way in by the time James and Peter came to stand in the doorway. He sat next to Lily, giving her a smile that, if given to anyone else, would suggest that aliens had inhabited his body. To Mary, he nodded curtly, flashing a peace-sign. More than business partners in a very underground cigarette trade, she suspected they were becoming good friends. It was always hard to tell exactly what terms you were on with Remus. His eyes were too dark, his scars hiding too much off his face in off-handed morbid curiosity. Mary admired his mystique. There was a bloke who had perfected his own personal art of existence.
James Potter, on the other hand, moved with the perfection of a trampling water buffalo. He coughed loudly, grinned, and reached over to shake Lily’s hand the moment he got a chance.
“Hiya!” he crowed happily. His glasses almost fell off his nose, and the last strand of hair that had been held in captivity by fruitless attempts at hair gel finally sprung free. James was poetry in clunky, rusted up motion.
Mary frowned, watching her friend accept the greeting with mild interest. She didn’t understand the buffoon quality that made men so attractive to some girls. She glanced back up at Sirius. There was real style to how he made a fool of himself. When Sirius entered a room, he didn’t need to make a scene. All the unspoken elements did it for him. That, in Mary’s mind, was a real man.
“Jesus James, care to leave any room for the rest of us? Petey back there is stuck behind your fat arse!”
Pettigrew yelped at Marlene's joke, making Sirius chuckle and Remus shrug evilly. Mary and Lily exchanged knowing glances, pretending to be above it all while soaking up every second of the boy's presence. After all these years, countless terms, it occurred to her that this might be the year they finally settle into place as a well oiled machine. That was always how it worked in movies, anyway, and sure, Mary had already come to terms with her physical desires. Marlene could have Peter, Lily could have James, and she could settle into a dashing love triangle with Sirius and Remus.
She squeezed Sirius’s bicep, “Good summer, eh?”
“Fantastic, got up to loads of trouble,” he murmured into her ear. Mary could see Lily alternating between terrified glances at James, who was halfway falling into her lap, and carefully calculating the scope of Mary’s advances, no doubt cataloging them for later. She shoved that out of her mind, determined not to lose strategy. Besides, Lily could deliver her a good performance review.
“Oh really?” she questioned. His teeth were so white it scared her, which she hadn’t expected. She shot Lily a smile, almost telling her to watch what happens next. “I’d love to hear a story, the most crass one you have.”
“Why don’t I do a bit of a show and tell on it? Say, some time next week?”
“Sounds wonderful,” she simmered with subdued happiness.
However Quidditch, or any other sport for that matter, was scored, she was certain she’d just scored a point. Already, they were quite excellent at this game.