A Proper Gryffindor Party
Dear Mary,
In this letter, I have a small question about this tick Petunia’s been hounding me for having. She says that when I’m trying to hide something I’ll have certain moments when my whole face freezes, like I’m seizing for a fraction of a second. Have you ever noticed that before? Tuney noticed it when I was trying to avoid Severus the other day, so I’ve been trying to think of similar times we might’ve argued enough to make this particular tick come out. So far, I’m up with nothing, but you have a far better memory than me.
In Tuney’s opinion, I need to find a cure and fast, so I’m sending prayers that you’ll help with the diagnosis of my problem.
Spasming,
Lily Evans
(P.S. Apparently, it’s unladylike to twitch.)
(P.P.S. If Petunia thinks I have a problem, she’d have nightmares about Marlene.)
---
Dear Lily,
I’ll probably sound insane for saying this, or at least like a supercomputer for social situations, but I know exactly what you’re talking about. You did it once before in front of me, when we were well, having some sort of hard talk. (I don’t remember the details too good, sadly.) All I remember thinking is, huh I wonder where that all came from. But I guess I’m also very different from Petunia in basically any way you score things. I’m sure most people wouldn’t ever give it a second thought, I’m just freakish enough to study your face as you talk.
Whatever my oddness, it gives me stuff like this! I hope I could help you out with this diagnosis, even though it isn’t too important in my opinion. If anything, it’s kind of cute, don’t you think?
Watching you spasm,
Mary Macdonald
(P.S. But dear, you are the most ladylike of them all!)
(P.P.S. I’d love to see Marlene and Petunia fist fight on the spot.)
Chapter 18
“Have you seen Lily?” she asked Marlene, shouting over the sweaty bodies of just about a thousand teenagers.
“Not a glimmer, nay,” Marlene called back. Her words were badly slurred, and her posture was tipping over like a sinking ship. Proudly etched across her neck was the place where Barty Crouch Jr. had scratched her with his (likely disgusting) fingernails. All throughout the night she had received a series of lads to kiss it all better, which she took with mild amusement. Thankfully, she seemed to have gotten over her James Potter crush, as many girls were forced to do when the Evans-Potter news came out, and Mary hoped she was enjoying herself.
“Probably with James somewhere, don’t you think? Best let them do their business.”
She could imagine what Lily was doing with James more than she cared to admit, and that only made her all the more frustrated.
“Why isn’t Black around to keep you company?” she jabbed while fending off another advance on her neck.
“Him and Remus are stoned,” Mary explained. “I tried to ask them what their names were and they replied Hardrock and Joe, God knows what that even means.”
“They’re right idiots, eh?”
“Believe me, I could kick them for it,” she agreed, coming to stand next to her friend and scan the room.
It was the best party they’d ever thrown, save for nothing at all. She knew it would probably be rivaled by something that was bound to happen next year, but it felt as if they were floating on top of a ridiculously decadent world. The drinks were boundless, the food abundant and utterly delicious, and the people were jubilantly frozen in time. Whatever victories Gryffindor had won, they’d staved off all feelings of dread. People danced like they were confident that they were safe as Remus flipped over an Abba record he couldn’t even protest about in his delirious state.
“At least we won!” Marlene raised her drink. “And with so little time left in the term, we’ll be free for Christmas by the weekend! A double victory
Mary did the same, basically on pure instinct, “A double victory!”
Not that holiday was any sort of victory to her. Marlene was going skiing in some wizard village tucked high among the Alps, and Lily was off to spend a pleasantly cozy winter in Killarney itself, a town so picturesque it had its own Christmas carol. Mary was the only one so out of luck, stuck in a neighborhood of London the others wouldn’t ever dream of visiting. Christmas wasn’t much of an affair in her household, save for church. Her father had loved the holiday more than anything else back when he had still been with them, so her mother likewise detested everything about the event.
Putting London out of her mind, Mary solemnly nodded alongside her best friend, and was accidentally yanked onto the dance floor by many grabbings hands. She’d forgotten for a moment that they were in fact quite popular in their house, so people obviously expected them to dance. For a moment, she pretended to hate it, until the music swept her away.
Mamma Mia blasted through the magically amplified record player and Marlene and Mary began to jump together, the former's choppy blonde hair becoming matted to her forehead with sweat, and the latter shaking her curls in a halo of joy. It was so different from the London club scene. They were merely actors pretending to read the same scripts as those grown-ups. She was struck by how young she felt when she was dancing so happily, not performing for any boy in the crowd. Her problems seemed so big, the world outside of school even larger. Everything hurt more because in that moment, nothing was painful.
She was having a terrific time, grand in all seriousness, when Lily Evans walked down the stairs from their dormitory holding the hand of James Potter. Her hair was tousled, sticking to the back of her neck and slightly matted to her forehead. In the low light, Lily was more beautiful to Mary than anything in the whole world. She met her eyes like glowing stones in the dark, and could not look away.
James was grinning, and Mary immediately knew what they had done. She understood sharply, as she’d been telling Lily to get on with that very thing for ages now. They passed notes about it in lessons, whispering about it in hushed tones throughout the castle, and remembering it as they kissed each other's lips.
She watched the two of them and seethed inside, suddenly feeling like needed to run away and purge herself of this feeling. They looked happy and normal. Not a care in the world.
“I have to go,” she told Marlene, running away from the pit of dancing people without another word.
Lily saw her coming from far off in the common room, and she felt her emerald eyes in every beat of her approach. This was choreography, this was practiced.
“James, can I steal Lily from you for a second? Party planning issues,” Mary quickly excused the two of them into a secluded corner of the boys dormitory stairs that the pair had just come down from. She leaned uneasily against the wallpaper and frowned as Lily shifted from side to side.
For a long moment, they were completely silent, both staring over the weight of what had most certainly happened.
“So you did it, didn’t you?” Mary finally asked, her voice coming out in one huge heave of breath.
“Mary, I-”
“Make it easier for both of us and tell me the truth, dear. Potter finally got to you.” Lily looked at the floor, and then right back at her
“I thought you’d be happy for me. You’re always saying that shagging is what we need to do.”
Mary detested hearing her voice thrown back so crudely. She didn’t know what idiotic headspace she’d been in when she said such a thing. What on the blessed earth had made her convince Lily Evans to share a bed with another. “God, you’re crude. You got it done with James Potter and are trying to pretend it’s my idea?”
Her knees felt weak, smashed by some semblance of what she believed to be utter betrayal. Lily’s eyes were flaring up with anger the same color as her hair. Neither of them really wanted to fight, but it always seemed to be the best course of action. What else were they supposed to do? The things they needed to discuss couldn’t be said in plain terms. It was better just to argue.
“You’re only jealous that you didn’t do it with Sirius first.”
“That’s not t-” she began to object, but was cut off.
“I wanted this with James before I ever got your approval, you know. You’re just angry that the same can’t be said for you with Sirius.”
“Stop it, I’m not broken. I want Sirius too.”
“Oh, do tell yourself that,” Lily was stark raving angry, more angry than Mary had ever seen her. She looked on the verge of tears and was showing it through her words. Now, Mary halfway wanted to start crying too. “I’m happy you can believe it.”
“Shove off, dear. You can’t pretend like James is the only thing that you want.”
She steadied herself and willed her wobbling legs to walk towards Lily. With each daunting step, the physical distance between them shrunk, and she could see her for what she really was. Lily was afraid, probably deeply, of what she’d done. It only took one look into those eyes, and Mary was throwing away all of her fury, at least for the moment. She took Lily’s face in her hands and kissed her lightly on the lips, just barely so, before pressing a harder kiss to her temple.
Lily wasn’t done with her anger, though. No matter how many times they accepted how they needed each other, it would always come back to the fear. They were both terrified, but Mary was more ready to go down with a sinking ship.
“At least he’s one of the things I want.”
“Hey-”
“Do better, Mary. It has to be believable, at least, that you want Sirius too.”
Then, Lily let out the smallest little admittance of what Mary knew she was hiding from her. Lily’s whole face flickered, her eyebrows furrowing and then unfurrowing with a single spasmodic movement. She twitched once more, frowning, and looked back up. Mary saw this little movement for what it exactly was: it was the twitch, the one that Lily had written about so extensively in her letters. That simple yet perfect dead giveaway that Lily was holding it all back.
It nearly made Mary cry. It made her sure of what she wanted to do.
“For you dear, it’ll be believable.”
She didn’t shrink away from that challenge. They made out furiously in the dark for at least twenty minutes, groping and touching as they pleased, before Mary went off to find her boyfriend.
***
Sirius was coming down from his high sitting cross legged next to the fire with Remus when she came up to him. They were talking very quietly, practically mumbling into each other’s ears. She was quick to interrupt, and only felt a little bit bad about it.
“Sirius, can we talk?” she declared. They both whipped around to look at her, and Sirius began to grin. He was handsomely surprised, a grin spread across his face.
“Sure,” he agreed. “Is that alright, Moony?”
“Alright,” Remus nodded, though he seemed slightly annoyed by it. That was probably only the weed talking, but Mary frowned anyway. She wasn’t in the mood for his discontent.
Boys weren’t allowed into the girls dormitory, so Sirius led Mary up to his dorm. It shook her to her core that Lily and James had been up there only minutes before. She stared at Potter’s bed, at the crumpled sheets, and nearly burst into tears.
Sirius sat on his bed and patted the spot next to him. She took her place and smiled up at him, putting Lily out of her mind.
“Are you feeling well, love?” he asked her and placed his hand on her thigh.
“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”
“I was only thinking you look a little shaken, is everything-”
“I missed you. We haven’t spoken since the match!” she smiled.
“It’s been a busy night, hasn’t it?” he agreed, grinning. She inched further closer, deepening his hold on her thigh.
“We’ve been in much need of some alone time,” Mary murmured. He was clearly ready for what they had to do, and nearly relished in it.
“Oh love, don’t I know it.”
Then, Sirius leaned forward and kissed her so she fell backwards on the bed, his hair falling in black curtains all around them. His hands maneuvered to either side of her waist so he could more easily shift her front place to place. Everything was in place, and she deepened the kiss with an abiding sense of readiness. If Lily could do it, so could she. She had to be able to for everything to keep working out.
While he kissed her, making some way to her neck and even further below, if he dared, she pondered what it would even be like to really want him to. In doing that, she could convince herself that she probably actually did. The red hot way that her stomach twisted, that was probably want. The clamminess of her hands and the anxious warmth flooding her face, that was probably just her way of being excited.
Even more, she thought of how Lily must’ve felt. They’d kissed enough times before, she could imagine it pretty well. James probably didn’t know her as well as Mary did, so she doubted she made all of the same sounds. She probably held his face more often, held that strong jaw, and took his glasses for him. She wondered who she enjoyed kissing more: Mary or James, James or Mary.
It really made her feel quite sick, but she kissed him harder. The more she thought about Lily, the more she wanted it.
Sirius, on the other hand, refused to take the bait. He did what they always did, which meant kissing up and down her clavicle, slipping his tongue in her mouth, and generally being far too polite with his movements. She tried to show him that it was perfectly fine to go further, but the boy refused to listen.
Finally, she decided to just rip off the bandage. Mary gripped at the bottom of his sweater, nearly ready to pull it up over his head, until he put his hand on her wrist.
“I don’t know if we should do this,” he told her.
“We have to,” she replied, imagining some faint reality where he would understand.
“I can’t make myself love,” he kept shaking his head, creeping further and further away from her. “I don’t know why I can’t, I feel like I want you and I’m still scared. There’s something blocking me.”
“Everyone’s wondering why we haven’t yet,” she said. Quite honestly, it was the truth. You could say whatever you wanted about a boy like Severus Snape, but he could smell a rat. He could smell what they were up to and what they lacked better than any police dog.
“That’s never really true.” But he knew nothing of real Hogwarts society. She wouldn’t let him take that knowledge away from her.
“You don’t talk to nearly enough girls then,” she rounded on him. “They’re all talking, all wondering if you have a problem getting it up or something.”
“Oh come off it-”
“Do you then, Black?” she nearly laughed, and that basically sealed the deal that it was never going to happen for them, or at least not on that night. If she was closer to cracking jokes at his very personal expense then getting anywhere near even kissing him again, it was over.
“It’s not that-”
“I love you to death, mate. But you’ve been a waste of my time.”
Throwing that very last mate in his face, she got up to storm out of the room,
“You’re a piece of work Macdonald! I can’t wait to see you after the holiday.” Turning to go, she caught the very last image of Sirius with his eyebrows raised and half a smile playing across his lips.
How she hated the smug prick, and how she knew they would be friends for a good long time. Whatever was the same inside of them had a way of being undeniable. He was filthy rich, she was dirt poor, sure, but they ticked like the same clock. He’d never really be a waste of her time, even when he wouldn’t love her how she needed him to.
Not that she could fault him. She’d never love him in that way either, only she was a hell of a lot more good at pretending.