Quidditch Tryouts
Dear Mary,
Today my father picked my mother flowers from the garden, cut the stems, and put them in our best glass jar. He told Petunia and I that we’re not to be serious about a boy until he gives us fresh cut flowers. He said that a real gentleman knows what appropriate gifts are. Do you think any boy at school would ever even dream of giving me flowers, and meaning it? Petunia has already found that oaf, Vernon, to cart around and drop loud hints about what kind of flora she likes best, but I feel a doubt that I may ever mind one. James likes me, I’m very aware, but he wouldn’t do the flowers. He wouldn’t know that he’s supposed to. I keep trying to convince myself that I don’t need flowers, I never have, but then I feel a sort of panic rising in me thinking about never getting any.
I beg of you, where am I supposed to get a flower from if no boy will ever treat me to one? I’m praying you know the answer to that one.
(P.S. I’m already good at gardening, and gardening spells.)
(P.P.S. Green thumbs are for lonely widows or lonely women, that’s what Petunia always says.)
With the sincerest possibility of passing away,
Lily Evans
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Dear Lily,
Your father sounds like a very lovely man, from what I’ve heard, though Petunia and her boyfriend both sound like terrific brats. (I’m not sure how that’s possible.) My answer to you is simple. You’ll get your flowers in due time, dear. James is mad about you, so mad that it overcomes the stupid parts of him to give some grandly romantic qualities. It’s okay to need flowers, too. You sound like you’re kicking yourself about it, which simply won’t do. You’ll get your flowers and it’ll be grand and they’ll be your favorite kind from your favorite boy.
If they aren’t, I’ll simply do it myself.
(P.S. What’re your favorite kind of flowers?)
(P.P.S. If they’re Lilies I’ll die of laughter, dear.)
From the mail on the way to the flower shop,
Mary Macdonald
Chapter 5: Quidditch Tryouts
Lily and Mary walked down to the Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts some time after the rest of their friends go, the class work they’ve gotten near finishing tucked under their arm. Mary liked to study when she could do it in tandem with someone, mirroring their every action. It was easier to focus on something as dull as History of Magic when she could glance up and watch Lily’s eyes flit between each note she took, or examine the way she bit at her quill when Arithmancy problems had her stuck. She had a way with explaining things, too. There was something about her teaching that added a personal touch to each horrid subject. It came down to the simple fact that when Lily talked, Mary wanted to listen. She mused that Lily would make a terrific Professor Evans if her sights were not set higher than landing back at Hogwarts.
It was a nice day outside. Mary could see it through the window panes before they even made it outside. Fall was breezing through the air on the heels of hot summer. It was a welcome change to breathe air that didn’t feel like drowning.
Evenings at Hogwarts were magical, regardless of the season. Students milled about through the stone halls, practicing their spells and completing absolute piles of homework. Stuck in this boarding school, these kids had more freedom than anyone Mary knew back in London. Evenings at Hogwarts were magical because they made her feel like life was merely lazily stretched out in front of her, especially on a Friday afternoon.
The first week of school had been a slog, as she would have expected. It was always initially hard to get back into the swing of her schooling, but things had been moving in an easier direction. She finally had her work to a manageable level, not that it would last, and all of her friends felt figured out, a little at least. The trouble with people was that unlike school work, they tended to undo themselves. Just when she thought that routine was settling, she feared it would have a nasty way of coming back to bite her.
“Christ, but it’s beautiful out!” Lily remarked, spinning in a grand circle as they walked the path to the stadium. It was familiarly trodden, just as familiar and easy as it felt to watch Lily in all her glory.
“Nicest day we’ve had all week,” she agreed. A smile happily broke her lips. The sun was slowly setting into fiery redness and the sky was turning a dusky orange. Every view she could’ve possibly missed over the course of the summer was spread out in her reach.
“Very much agreed,” Lily nodded back.
They walked in silence for a little while, the kind that sat comfortably in the air. They communicated without needing to talk, really. It was easy to do so after spending a whole summer reading each other. In the quiet, Mary realized there were no birds at Hogwarts, or no normal ones. She didn’t miss pigeons, nothing about them held nostalgia for home. That was one thing that wizards and witches had done good by. They cut out the middle man in terms of horrifyingly disgusting animals.
Shimmering like a mirage on sand, still fifty paces out from Mary and Lily’s steady progress, was a snitch flitting through the cool stadium air. There was another brilliant bird replacement, the fine machine wings jerking its golden body imperceptibly through the air. After long hours spent watching the boys and Marlene play their stupid game, she prided herself on being quite good at seeing the wee bastard.
Through the rest of the trek she followed the snitch with her eyes, letting herself get lost in her surroundings. Once tryouts were over they were all supposed to eat together, or at least the girls and boys splitting off together. This was her last moment of quiet peace, walking side by side with Lily under the gently setting sun. She breathed the moment inside of herself; she relished the feeling that she knew was so hard to come by.
Once they climbed the grand stand up towards their usual seats, the world lost all of its tranquility. Gryffindor after Gryffindor zipped by on their broomsticks and people cheered for their friends from the stands. Mary and Lily were old hands at this game by now and far too excited to be watching their second to last tryout to even imagine calling out.
They made camp next to Alice Forstescue, a Hufflepuff who was practically already married to Frank Longbottom, the seventh year captain for Gryffindor. Mary liked Alice quite notably, more than she immediately did for most who weren’t already her friend. She was sweet, and understood the idiotic devotion that each Gryffindor player had to Frank and the team. She was an excellent giggling partner in a way that many girls might not be.
“Hiya girls!” Alice chirped, helping them spread out their school things on the benches around them. “Sixth year blues already?”
“By Jesus, I don’t understand how you managed it so calmly,” Mary chuckled. She vividly remembered scoffing off the challenges of N.E.W.T levels last year, mere moments after they’d completed their O.W.Ls. Now, looking back, all of those sixth years had been braver than any Auror at the Ministry.
Lily, who was already scribbling down more bits to her Arithmancy work, nodded heartily. “It’s going to do me in, I tell you.”
“You’ll get the hang of it eventually, believe me. They turn it on at first to scare the daylights out of you, but then things even out.”
Mary and Lily gave her very uncertain looks and Alice laughed in reply.
“Maybe it’d be best to find a bloke smart enough to help you out with all of it!” she joked.
“Slim pickings in our case, I’m afraid,” Mary gestured out to the boys flying across the pitch. Sirius was streaking to and from the opposite sides of the field in some bizarre sort of drill. She was aware that nothing was supposed to be more attractive than this, but couldn’t exactly understand why.
“Ay, true enough. It might be best to stick to your wits there girls,” Alice warned.
“Is Frank bright, then?” Lily asked. “James says he’s brilliant with Quidditch.”
Mary glanced back from watching Sirius to examine the way Lily’s face landed after saying those words. She was as crystal cool as she always was, unruffled by the wind or emotions. By God, Lily Evans knew how to make someone feel something without the added stress of showing off how she herself felt.
“Frank is perfect, I say. Just bright enough for me.” Alice betrayed every emotion in her heart when she spoke. She loved him so clearly, her eyes locked onto him as he whistled all of the new recruits through their stations. Mary wondered what that felt like.
“I’m happy for you two,” Mary said honestly. “There’s no lottery luckier than that.”
Lily frowned, creasing the space between her eyebrows with geometric anger, before Alice could say anything in return.
“I don’t understand what in the bloody hell Arithmancy wants from me,” she huffed. Mary peered over at the worksheet, which was all gibberish to her.
“You’ve got it. No bloke is as bright as you, dear.” She gently touched Lily’s arm and the angle between her eyes smoothed itself out.
Lily smiled back, “Isn’t that the truth.”
The three girls watched as each Chaser took their turn, followed by the Seekers and finally the Beaters. That was the only moment Mary looked up from her homework, first to watch Marlene blow her time out of the park, and then to watch Sirius perform whatever he had to. It was funny that such a dainty boy played the most manly position on the team, at least in Mary’s opinion. She wondered if he chose it to make up for what he was lacking. Boys often did that for their parent’s approval, she knew from back home. The lads who played the most back in London were always the one who couldn’t quite be like the other boys. Watching Sirius slam a leather ball away from nearly killing James with his long black ponytail flying behind him was some of the greatest juxtaposition in the world.
As dusk settled in, the tryouts came to their end, and another crowd descended upon the pitch. Lily and Mary noticed at the same time, triggered by each other's body language to look down at the field. Emerald green and silver swished down the turf as Frank flew down to meet the head figure of the group, a black girl with long braids flowing all the way down her back. Mary knew who she was quite well. Dorcas Meadowes was an imposing figure at Hogwarts. Quidditch Captain as a sixth year, consistently battling Lily for top of their class, and all that with being a half-blood Slytherin. A half-blood, black Slytherin. Those two, in tandem, put a mark on anybody's back, but Meadowes shook it off. With some mystifying power, she protected herself from the hatred of her peers.
Perhaps her most defining feature, in Mary’s life at least, was the fact that Marlene hated her with a fiery passion. They’d come near real physical blows several times, and more hexes had been cast in that rivalry than any other in the school. Mary nudged Lily, pointing at Meadowes’ figure and then at Marlene landing on the pitch in front of her. Even though they couldn’t hear a thing, it was funny to watch both of the girls' faces contort in utter anger.
The girls, in the middle of their heated exchange, were each respectively held back by James and Regulus, Sirius’s little brother. The youngest Black did not at all look strong enough to stop Meadowes from hurting even the tiniest fly, but it worked somehow. Maybe Dorcas wasn’t trying, though Marlene certainly was. James was sweating through his Quidditch kit more than he had all practice just trying to stop her from throwing a hex.
“A true test of masculinity out there,” Mary joked. It was funny to her that only the two girls of each team hated each other so badly. James and the little Black looked more afraid than anything else.
Lily nodded heartily, leaning her head on Mary’s shoulder. She looked up at her through curtains of hair, breaking distance Mary thought never ought to be broken. But now it felt right.
“And to think I’d forgotten why I love Quidditch so much!”
As the sun finally set over the hills, Lily’s hair turned a fiery shade of red. It was so beautiful Mary felt she had to look. She didn’t mean anything by it, really. She swore that each glance she stole at the top of Lily’s head was nothing more than pure curiosity. Her heart was beating because of worry, because of stress, because of love for anyone except for the girl resting on her arm.
She looked out to the pitch, but it felt meaningless. Her eyes wouldn’t even fight to find Sirius anymore. She decided that she’d leave all thinking of boys until tryouts were over. She could deal with him more properly then, when they were alone and she could see clearly again.
Until that inevitability (girls needed boys to survive, she saw that when her mother fell apart after her father left), she would sit here in this moment. It was a nice sunset, it was a perfect night. Lily’s breathing came in slow, even tugs at Mary’s heart strings. They watched Dorcas hurl the Jelly Leg Curse at Marlene, and Lily nudged more comfortably into the side of her neck. No one, not even Alice, saw, but Mary felt it. She held her imperceptibly closer as they waited for the moment to shatter.