The Party
Dear Mary,
I’ve told you about Petunia’s absolutely horrible boyfriend, haven’t I? He’s been on my mind recently, for one idiotic reason or another. Vernon Dursley is the most odious boy alive, save for the most evil kind of criminal. He looks like a walrus, even without the awful mustache he’s trying to grow. She was telling me all about a night they had this weekend. He took her out to the movies and took her to the back of his car, or that’s what she said. Of course, it’s not like she’s really riding him or anything. Petunia is far too proper for that. But she got into the whole specifics of kissing and all. It’s kind of disgusting, don’t you think? I’ve only ever pecked boys at parties before, and now I’m not particularly looking forward to what may come after.
What are the London boys like? Are you as afraid as me?
(P.S. I went all the way into town to find a book on sexually transmitted disease.)
(P.P.S. There are a ridiculously wide variety of terrifying illnesses one can contract. Do be safe.)
Turning towards being a nun,
Lily Evans
---
Dear Lily,
I’m writing this to you from the living room of the flat of the boy that I’m currently going steady with. Dylan is his name, and he is the world's most awful kisser. Most London boys are, I’ve found. To be fair, it’s not like any of the Hogwarts lads are exactly blowing any of them out of the park. Kissing, in my opinion, is an exchange of way too much saliva in way too small of a window. I guess we’re all just waiting to find the right guy to do it with, like Petunia apparently. I keep imagining that then, with a guy more thoughtful or more good looking or so much smarter than Dylan, kissing would feel like people say it does.
Still, it’s not like I have any idea who that guy could be. You’re not alone, dear. I’m absolutely terrified.
(P.S. A tiny portion of my friends are walking patient case studies.)
(P.P.S. Truly, the effects are horrific.)
Your fellow bride of Christ,
Mary Macdonald
Chapter 6: The Party
“Macdonald, won’t you pass me that bottle?” Sirius implored from across the dorm room. As he stared her down, she could see that his gray eyes were filled with distinct intelligence, but a kind she hadn’t expected. She watched as he flitted around the room, picking up each social cue before landing on her. His eyes were smart like hers were.
Because they were Gryffindors, because they were all recklessly committed to having fun, and because they were all sixteen, the casual dinner that the girls and the boys had each individually planned on having had turned into an excuse to sneak into the boy’s room and pass around a bottle of Firewhiskey. Mary had no qualms about the idea. It was a Friday night and they deserved a bit of fun after such a long first week.
Poor Peter, on the other hand, was shitting himself with absolute terror.
“There’s another bottle!” he hissed sharply. Peter had hiccups that worsened with every shot he took, making him shudder in ways that seemed somewhat dangerous to Mary’s eyes. She rolled the bottle over to Sirius anyway.
It was only spiked butterbeer, which he drained with certain ease. She already knew where this was going, even before Sirius opened his mouth to say something. An empty bottle and a room full of mixed genders only meant one thing, especially when Black was operating the social dynamics.
“I don’t think you lot are ready for what I’m about to suggest,” Sirius posed, sliding off the bed to sit criss-cross on the floor.
Remus sighed, opening the window to take a quick puff of his cigarette, “I don’t think we are.”
He and Lily were sitting comfortably on his four-poster bed. Mary watched as she stared at James, who was sitting right next to her, still busy going over the new tryouts with Marlene and Peter. She suspected that the two of them would expect each other to quickly forget about the sunset and the shoulder. Of course, it was already slipping her mind. She had already turned to bigger and better things. Namely, Sirius Black.
Sirius was absolutely chuffed to be in this position, that much was clear. He sat like the whole room was in awe with them, like he was performing for a crowd of adoring fans. Mary was happy to play the part. While James smelled like sweaty sock, the scent of Sirius’s cologne was vaguely audible, cutting through the body odor that should’ve been present. She absolutely adored men who smelled nice.
“Spin the bottle!” Sirius finally exclaimed, his mouth curling into a sly grin that Mary was quick to match.
“Oh my days,” Peter said. He talked like a proper grandmother when the prospect of kissing a girl was introduced. His first girlfriend, a Hufflepuff a year older than them, had utterly traumatized the poor fellow by accidentally giving him a tongue shriveling hex her old boyfriend had put on her. He’d never had good luck with girls before, but it had gotten to truly heinous levels after that event.
“Come on Petey!” James stood up, shoving Peter along until they were sitting next to Sirius, already forming a semicircle. Mary made room for Lily and Remus on either side of her, and the circle was complete.
Across from her, Sirius smiled. She smiled back. Her stomach twisted and twirled. Whoever had invented Spin the Bottle had been a genius. It was a game so good that Muggles and wizards alike played it, a game so good it transcended all divisions to unite humanity in teenage hormones. She did wonder about some of the rules, though. What would happen if Sirius landed on Remus? What would happen if she landed on Lily? It had happened only once before, but they’d been too young to understand what it meant. Because she wasn’t twelve anymore, spinning the bottle meant more than a peck on the lips, and she understood what queer meant. She understood why kissing could be dire.
“Alright, who’s going first?” Sirius posed.
They all hated this game, really. Absolutely no one volunteered. Mary let them sit in the silence for as long as it could remain normal. She knew that her turn would effectively end the game. No matter who the bottle landed on, they would all find it too interesting a turn of events to keep playing. Out of ghastly curiosity, she was sad to see that happen.
She squeezed the red carpet in between her fingers, picking at a spot that was unweaving itself. Still, only silence was absorbed by the bed drapings and tapestries.
She glanced over at Lily, who looked back with panic striking notes in her green eyes. Mary frowned, but was met with once again averted eyes. If anyone would want to go, it should be her. Sure, Mary could gain a kiss from Sirius, but that would come in due time regardless. It was Lily’s whole James agenda that could be so pushed forward by a lucky bottle spin. She couldn’t fathom why she wasn’t speaking up.
“Evans?” Sirius shook the bottle in her direction, and Lily shook her head.
“Come on, it’s all you!” He lagged on each syllable, dragging it out until Mary couldn’t take it anymore. She was going to spin that bottle and she was going to kiss the face off of that arsehole.
Lily looked at her helplessly, and Mary nodded.
“I’ve got it, eh?” Reaching across the diameter of the circle, she snatched the bottle of Sirius’ hand and put it in place. She didn’t feel any fear about the whole ordeal. What did any of it matter, really? A kiss was a kiss, and could be undone a lot easier than most people presumed.
“Aww, Evans is spared. Knight in shining armor suits you, sweetheart,” he drawled. See, Mary apparently had a thing for dicks, right up there with men who smelled good and couldn’t quite manage to be manly enough.
She sets down the bottle in front of her, clearing away a stack of James’ poorly done homework and a dirty sock. One would think that, given they’d known the girls would probably be coming, the three of them would’ve thought to clean up a little bit more. Instead, each of their beds are entirely unmade, the crimson and gold sheats strewn about messily. She was quite confused where the whole disconnect on social manners was between girls and boys, but was entirely prepared to kiss one of them just the same. Nearly giggling to herself, she supposed she should wonder where the mental disconnect for that was.
The only look she would allow herself towards Lily revealed nothing but the appropriate vague interest. As she leaned forward to spin, it was Marlene who began to giggle loudly with anticipation.
Mary gave the Firewhiskey the firmest push she could muster, sending it spinning in circles around and around their group. She knew who it would land on. That fact was as certain as if the outcome had been enchanted from the beginning. The question was of how it would land, or how how it landed would land with everyone else. Really, she was already drunk and the process was seeming quite confusing.
Finally, the glass bottle rattled to a faltering stop, its mouth pointed at the boy she knew it would. Sirius Black stared back at her through curtains of dark hair, and Mary grinned.
“You and me then, eh?” She sat up on her knees, gripping her hands in her lap. She was sure there were green eyes trained on the back of her head, which thrilled her to an extent she didn’t enjoy.
“Looks like it,” Sirius winked back.
And just like that, his hands were on her. He was as eager to prove himself at this as he was at Quidditch, judging by the way he grabbed the collar of her uniform and kissed her hard, full on the lips. Immediately, she understood all the ways in which she wasn’t a child anymore. This wasn’t a game of seeing who could pull away from a peck the quickest. Sirius Black’s tongue was in her mouth and she didn’t know how it had gotten there and somebody was whooping with glee while another person choked on shock behind her.
Their lips loudly smacked apart and Mary Macdonald was stunned into absolute silence for the first time in quite a while.
“Good show, Macdonald,” Sirius quietly murmured. He wouldn’t look at her straight on any more, instead only peering from under hair. She was suddenly quite glad that it was him she got to kiss instead of any other boy. He was beautiful, the cutting jaw, piercing eyes kind of beautiful.
“Too true, sweetheart,” she smiled back. “I think I’ll take my leave. Wouldn’t want to ruin it, would I?”
The rest of their friends were dead silent. Remus slowly creaked the window open, and coughed as he took a puff of the cigarette, which reminded her how entangled they all were. Soon they’d be selling the cigarettes again, and it wouldn’t just be them. It would be him. Mary’s legs felt weak, and not in the most terrific way. She was going to throw up in Sirius’s mouth if they tried to kiss again, but she still held control of the room. This night had gone perfectly, and she wasn’t as happy as she should’ve been.
James called halfheartedly out to her some friendly remarks about staying, about how it wasn’t too late, but she wouldn’t hear a bar of it. He wasn’t who she was baiting.
***
It was too late for anyone to be in the common room. Even for the weekend, with people out for as long as they could be, their little group stayed out the latest, went the hardest. Mary waited on the stairs, her hands hugging her knees so that her skirt wouldn’t mess itself up. She rested her head on her knees, and watched the boy’s stairs.
Her lips still felt numb from the kiss. She wasn’t sure if she was putting the feelings on for show. It didn’t take long for the feeling to wear off, or for her figure to appear.
“What in the Lord’s name possessed you to do that, eh?” Lily hissed. She wasn’t much taller than Mary by any stretch, but she crossed the common room in what felt like three great strides.
“It was only a bit of fun.” She felt like crying, but didn’t know why.
“Your fun worries me.” Lily sat down next to her. Their knees and shoulders pressed together in the middle of the wide staircase. She touched the very edge of her pinky to Lily’s hand and they both held their breath.
“It was good, dear. Don’t be blind to that just because you didn’t get a piece of Potter.” She felt like Lily had seen a part of her she didn’t like, which meant she had to combat it somehow.
“I don’t want him like that,” Lily replied in a tiny, quiet voice. It was faintly raining outside, but the sound nearly drowned her all the way out. The tapestries on either side of them muffled their conversation. Mary thought it was marvelous how easily the world could shrink until it was only them inside of it.
“Like, spin the bottle?”
“No, Mary.”
“How, then?”
“I don’t want to kiss him. Everytime Black insists on getting that damn bottle out I think of ways I can pretend to be sick or hex myself,” she half giggled, half choked on her words.
“Oh,” Mary breathed. “That’s ok. It comes with time, won’t it?”
“Maybe.” She shrugged.
“You don’t have to like him-” she started.
“We both know that isn’t true.” And they did, obviously. James Potter got what he wanted through a form of little-understood golden magnetism, and he wanted Lily. There was nothing slimy about it, nothing evil, but it was the truth.
“Well then, why do you think you don’t like him?”
Lily was quiet to her question, which Mary took as a sign to continue on.
“I mean, you get nervous around him. Your face goes all shades of maroon and you start to feel ill.”
She was still silent. It was hard to tell when advice was working on Lily. She looked the same as she did when things were going over horribly as when things sounded terrific.
“That’s love, dear. Or at least like.” Mary looked over and was met with green like someone just cracked open a gemstone in front of her. She felt knocked over or socked in the face.
Lily shook her head once, twice, “He wasn’t who I thought of all summer.”
“Ah,” she murmured. “I understand.”
Mary laid her head onto Lily’s welcome shoulder and wrapped their arms together.
“Do you?” They breathed in unison. Mary closed her eyes and felt Sirius’s hands on her collar, wrapping around and keeping her close. Then, all in real time, she felt Lily’s head lean against hers.
“I do.”
And she knew she did. She understood who she’d been thinking of all summer, but she couldn’t understand what it meant.
“I’ll kiss James then, next time. And you’ll have Sirius,” she said determinedly.
“Lily-”
“We’ll go on double dates, won’t that be nice?”
“Sure, but-” Mary couldn’t get a word in, not that it would make any difference if she could. Lily was right.
“I’ll want it, with you by my side,” she declared.
“Alright then,” Mary agreed.
On the stairway, they wrapped each other closer, and left before anyone could see. It was just like the Quidditch match, just like a million other things, just like a pattern they couldn't seem to break.