Save a horse, ride a cowboy (girl)
Mary had a problem, a very distracting problem.
It came with red hair tied back with a pen, with a messenger bag covered in pins and patches, it came with old sweaters that smelt like cinnamon and the kind of familiarity only found in old book shops. It came with a laugh that sounded like home and books annotated on bus rides. It came with cups of tea and took the form of the beautiful English teacher in the classroom opposite.
“Bitch,” Marlene sighed (helpfully) down the phone. Mary rolled her eyes, she loved Marlene to bits, she really did but this wasn’t helpful. “You are so screwed. I mean term starts in what? -”
“- three days.” Mary swapped the phone to her other hand, staring blankly at the planning work she was supposed to have got done last night. Not her fault ‘Cinnamon Girl’ by Lana del Ray had come on and it certainly wasn’t her fault she’d spent all night listening to it and thinking of a soft smile and green eyes.
“I mean you are just so screwed,” Marlene’s laughter crackled down the phone, cutting through Mary’s thoughts. “On the scale of one to screwed, you are like eleven. What are you going to do?”
Mary put her head in her hands, “I don’t know Marls, it isn’t fair she’s just so stunning.”
Marlene laughed, clearing her throat with what sounded suspiciously like “Gay.” Mary ignored her, chewing on her lip in thought, what was she going to do? It wasn’t like she could go back to work and drop her paints every time she saw her. The last three times had been bad enough, Mary would simply pass away if it happened again. Maybe she’d have to change jobs, surely there was another school that needed an art teacher? Mary ignored the way her heart clenched at the thought of not being able to see as she taught in the classroom across the corridor, her smile when one of the children made a point, or the way she could laugh off almost any situation.
“Mary,” Marlene was still on the phone then, “I can hear you being gay from here.” Mary didn’t say anything, caught fair and square. “How did this even happen? I mean she only started in what-”
“-September. I think.” Mary did not in fact think, she remembered the day with startling clarity.
“Ok, September.” Marlene was talking in a slightly distracted way, like she was thinking about something. Whatever it was it probably wasn’t good for Mary. “So, it’s been a term. That’s not unreasonable but still, have you actually spoken to her?”
“I thanked her for picking up my paints.” Mary mumbled, bright red.
“I’m sorry what?” The smile colouring Marlene’s voice made it very clear she’d heard exactly what Mary said.
“Don’t make me repeat it.” Marlene said nothing.
Silence.
“Fine.” Mary caved after exactly 7 seconds, as she did every time. Marlene didn’t even have to say a word and Mary hated her for it, the ability to weasel any information out of her whenever she wanted. “I said I thanked her for picking up my paints.” Marlene still didn’t say anything. “And I speak to her at staff meetings! …Sometimes.” The continued silence on the end of the phone told Mary that wasn’t as much of a defence as she’d hoped.
Marlene whistled down the phone, a sound that very clearly said you’re fucked. “Well, as much as I love listening to you being sad and gay, I have a date with my absolutely drop-dead gorgeous girlfriend who I talk to.”
Mary sighed, “Bitch.”
Marlene cackled down the phone in such a way that it wouldn’t have been out of place in a horror film, “Jerk.” She hung up not even a second later, leaving Mary with a blank phone and too many thoughts. She sighed, rummaging around in the mounds of pillows and blankets on her bed until she found her headphones. Pleased, Mary pulled them on, even more pleased that they had charge. She laid back in bed, Lana Del Rey playing softly in her ears and found herself thinking over and over about what Marlene had said. Had it really only been a term? Had she really only said a few sentences? The thoughts bounced themselves around her head, around and around in dizzying loops until Mary fell asleep, thinking of freckles and flowers.
-✿-
The only good thing about the new school year in Mary’s opinion is that she gets to paint a new mural on her wall. Admittedly, it would only last 3 weeks before the canvases for Halloween went up and then maybe another 3 before they were swapped out for Christmas. Still, it was the thought that counted, and Mary taught Year 1, she needed to do something with her degree.
Therefore, Mary’s new year could have started better. It wasn’t the children, not at all. She’d taken time to meet every single one of them a few times back in July and had spoken to their teacher several times. Pandora Rosier was quite possibly the best person to teach Reception. She was calm and kind, Mary had been teaching here 5 years and didn’t think she’d ever heard Pandora raise her voice. In fact, Mary was pretty sure Pandora was some kind of fae, the children seemed drawn to her, fascinated by the crystals and charms that hung like stars from her clothes, her ears, even her hair. Pandora made a point to gift one to each child when they moved up. Mary just hoped they wouldn’t be disappointed when, instead of a literal member of the fae, they got stuck with her.
In fact, the only real issue with Mary’s new year had been her car. A battered old Volkswagen beetle, it her first and only car. The issue with this was that it broke down a lot. The car’s terrible reliability was how she became such good friends with Marlene, having spent so much time in her mechanics at the end of the road. And of course, already being late, her car had chosen to give up 100 meters from the entrance school, leaving Mary no choice but to push it as best she could until it was nearly in a parking space. Good enough.
It wasn’t her fault then that she wasn’t looking as she essentially ran down the corridor, mentally checking off the things she still had to get ready. Mary was so caught up in everything she had to do that she didn’t even notice the other person until she hit the floor, her papers flying everywhere.
“-Oh my god I’m so-”
“-Watch where you’re going.” Mary was fully aware she hadn’t been paying attention, but that wasn’t the point. It was the principle of it.
“Of course, I’m really so sorry.” The voice was slightly posh, unfamiliar in a way that made Mary immediately curious. She picked up a few more pieces of paper before looking up.
Mary dropped all her paper again.
Staring back at her, a look of sheepish embarrassment on her face, was the most stunning woman Mary had ever seen. She had bright red hair that tumbled almost lazily down her back, a few strands loose around her face. Distantly, Mary realised they must have fallen down when she was knocked over. Still, Mary found herself unable to feel guilty when they looked that good, framing her eyes perfect. Oh god, her eyes. They were a kind of green Mary thought only existed in fantasy; an emerald so deep it looked bottomless, like Mary could get lost in them for years, never getting bored or needing to resurface. This close, she could see the freckles that sat on top of her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose. Mary’s mum had once told her freckles were angel kisses and, looking at them now, Mary couldn’t agree more. She could see the moment the girl realised how close they were, a furious blush colouring her cheeks, right up to the tip of her eyes and disappearing under the collar of her sweater. A collar that Mary wasn’t looking at, utterly obsessed with the way her necklace, some sort of flower, sat against her neck.
“Um,” the redhead shuffled back, smiling somewhat nervously. “I’m sorry, I should really go, I’m so sorry.” With that she was gone, leaving Mary sat, dazed, in the middle of the corridor. It wasn’t until she was halfway through the register that she realised, despite playing the interaction in her head all morning, she didn’t even know her name.
-✿-
Luck was on Mary’s side, as just over a week later, she ran into her again. Not literally this time, much to her weird disappointment. Her luck came in the first all staff meeting -normally, Mary hated these, and tried to skip them at any cost. The Headteacher, Dumbledore, was so old Mary had had to stop herself on multiple occasions from asking him what it was like to grow up before electricity. The only redeeming factor was watching the Deputy Head and Year 6 teacher, McGonagall try and stay awake. Mary loved the elderly teacher, she’d been the one to take Mary under her wing when she first started and she knew for a fact that under her scowl, Minnie cared deeply for every child she taught.
This week’s meeting came with an unexpected bonus. There, sat awkwardly in the corner when Mary walked in, was the redheaded girl. She looked up and smiled shyly, causing Mary’s heart to do something funny in her chest. Her mid was reeling as she took her usual space, close enough to see McGonagall’s facial expressions but far enough away to zone out without Dumbledore noticing. She watched the girl out the corner of her eye as Dumbledore droned on and on, his usual “welcome back speech”. He droned on about policies and rules and Mary watched, entranced, as a beam of sunlight broke through the curtains and hit the side of the girl’s face. It made her eyes sparkle in way that should be simply illegal, highlighting her cheekbones and the curve of her neck.
Mary was rudely startled out of her reverie (she was thinking about how the girl was made to be painted) by Dumbledore going off speech. Mary sat straight up in her chair, Dumbledore had made the same speech every September since she started and, judging by McGonagall’s face, quite a few Septembers before that. “-greatest pleasure to introduce you to our newest member of staff,” He gestured to the girl, who stood up nervously, smoothing down non-existent creases on her trousers. “I shall let her introduce herself, but I trust you will all make her feel welcome.”
The girl gave Dumbledore a wobbly smile as she made her way to the centre of the room. “Hi,” her voice shook, and Mary watched as her hands twisted in the cuffs of her sweater over and over. The girl’s eyes flickered round the room, finally meeting Mary’s. Her heart did something funny again as Mary held her gaze, giving her what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “I’m Lily. Lily Evans.” She, Lily, gave another awkward smile, and Mary felt her heart soar.
Lily. Lily Evans.
“I teach history and English normally, but I’m going to be teaching Year 2 for now.” It was like someone had hit pause on the world for a second. Mary couldn’t catch up; Year 2? Lily was going to be teaching Year 2. The very same Year 2 that had its classroom directly opposite to Mary’s. That year 2? Mary quietly thanked whoever it was that was responsible for that. Year 2, Lily Evans, in her eyeline, all day every day. By the time she had come to terms with that, Lily had sat back down, the faintest remnants of blush still colouring her cheeks. Mary didn’t think she’d ever seen someone so beautiful. So beautiful in fact that she didn’t catch a single word that was said the entire rest of the meeting, utterly enthralled by the rhythm Lily’s fingers tapped against each other. Her eyes caught and got stuck on the hint of a tattoo she could see poking out from under Lily’s sleeves. It appeared to be something floral, what could be flower petals on the inside of her wrist. Mary’s gaze remained fixated on the tattoo until the redhead got up to leave. With a start, Mary looked up, not wanting to be caught staring.
She was almost successful.
She looked up and brown met green, Mary’s heart doing something funny in her chest again, almost like she had felt it skip a beat. She gave a nervous grin to which Lily responded enthusiastically, a grin that was all gums and crinkled eyes. It was like a ray of sunlight, a shot of espresso, and Mary felt her smile grow wider in response. Lily turned to leave, the light catching on the gold ring in her nose Mary had somehow missed before.
Mary remained sat in her seat until she was one of the last teachers to leave, her mind still reeling from its introduction to Lily Evans. Dazed, she got up to leave, completely missing the knowing look McGonagall gave her.
She was so screwed.
-✿-
Despite her classroom being opposite Lily’s, Mary didn’t get a chance to see or speak to her. Not really. Sure, she watched Lily as she seemed to fly around the classroom, almost glowing with excitement and happiness as she taught. And yes, she could see Lily sat in the armchair in the corner before school, after school, at breaks and lunch, reading or making whatever she was teaching. And yes, she was alone every time. But still, Mary didn’t have the chance to speak to her. She tried, once. She’d ordered an extra coffee, ignoring the smirk she was sure Marlene would have given her. She’d got to work early, her car working perfectly for once. In fact, Mary had got right up to the doorway to Lily’s classroom, waiting outside and staring at the fairy lights for a solid five minutes before she had the courage to knock.
Once.
Twice.
No answer.
In what she would later describe to Marlene as “the bravest thing she’s ever done” Mary pushed the door open, stopping short as she took in the classroom for the first time.
Lily must be magic.
The classroom certainly looked like it, fairy lights strung like fireflies from the ceiling, hidden and wrapped around ferns and ivy. In fact, as she looked all around, Mary noticed the plants that covered every available surface. There were plants on the windowsills, on the cupboards and bookshelves, Lily’s desk looked like part of forest, every inch covered in trailing leaves. The lights twinkled and danced, giving a sense of movement to the whole room. Where Mary had turned her classroom into bright pastels and summer, Lily’s seemed to be the embodiment of every fantasy forest she’d ever heard of. The standard desks had been stained darker, even the carpet had been covered with dark green rugs that looked like living moss. Mary half expected to see a stream running in between the seats.
Her favourite discovery had been the bookshelves, stained a dark brown and slightly wonky, they looked straight out of a witch’s house, or a forest. Or both, Mary wouldn’t be surprised at this point. The shelves were crammed with almost too many books to imagine. A few of the were academic, squeezed in between dog eared copies of The Hobbit or The Secret Garden. Mary counted at least 4 different copies of Little Women, all in various states of well read. Mary brushed her fingertips over the spines, her eyes catching on the tabs and post it notes. She was overwhelmed with the urge to pick one up, to read it. She’d never been one for books, much more at home with a box of paints and yet, she found herself drawn to the books, wanting, needing to read one, to see what parts Lily had underlined. The parts that made her laugh? Cry? The quotes that had stuck with her for years?
The desire peaked, and with it came the uncomfortable reminder of where she was.
Uninvited and probably unwelcome, Mary was what? Going through someone else’s things? Suddenly the coffee in her hands wasn’t the safe pass she thought it was. Suddenly it wasn’t a nice gesture, it was unwanted, something from a coworker you didn’t know to awkwardly accept and then bin at the first chance. Mary knew how that felt, after all wasn’t that exactly what he had done. Mulciber and Snape, infamous smooth talker, had wormed his way to her with coffee and a smile. Got inside her head despite all her best efforts and then- and the-
The walls that had been a wonder only minutes earlier now were closing in around her, the ivy on the ceilings reached down to choke her, winding its way around her neck and shoulders. Mary took a great heaving gasp and the vines retreated just enough to allow her to move. She half ran, half staggered across the hallway to her classroom, locking the door behind her as she sunk to her knees. She stayed that way for some time, the world fading to watercolours around her as she sat, hands tangled in her hair and the coffee going cold next to her.
Mary didn’t try going into Lily’s classroom again.
-✿-
It wasn’t until Halloween nearly 2 weeks later that Mary found herself around Lily. Unlike the rest of the staff, Mary loved Halloween. The decorations, the dressing up, the horror movies, all of it. Her and Marlene had spent every Halloween they’d been friends together, slightly drunk on the sofa and scaring themselves shitless with horror films. It was, without fail, Mary’s favourite night of the year.
At school, much to the delight of her students, Mary had gained a reputation of going all out on her costumes each year. Last year she’d essentially borrowed Marlene’s wardrobe and gone as the rockstar girlfriend – a subtlety that had been wasted on the 6-year-olds she taught, they simply liked her “big guitar and spiky clothes”. The year before that, she’d watched Tick Boom and absolutely fallen in love with the film and the soundtrack, buying herself a green dress the next day. Dumbledore had been the first to recognise her costume, talking at her in great detail about the syntax and timing of the songs before wondering off in the middle of his sentence, distractedly mumbling something about lemon drops. That had been a weird year.
This year however, Mary thought as she looked in the mirror, she’d truly outdone herself. She’d been working on this costume for months, a stupid idea she hadn’t quite been able to let go of. She stood back, taking in her full reflection and was glad she’d stuck with it. From huge white platforms almost hidden by the flares on her trousers to the almost dizzying floral pattern on her shirt, Mary thought she looked incredible. She’d got Marlene’s help with her makeup; orange eyeshadow and graphic liner that made her eyes stand out sharply. Her earrings felt like they were going to hit her shoulders, giant flowers that swing when she moved. Her scrutinous gaze passed over her hair, teasing out the last curls to make it as big as possible, the headband nearly lost beneath them. Yes, she thought, I look hot today.
As she got in her car, she wondered if Lily would agree.
-✿-
As it turned out, Mary could have saved herself the bother. Lily wouldn’t be seeing her all day because, and she was certain of this, if Mary walked within 50 meters of Lily, she was going to die, no doubt about it. She hadn’t even got out her car when she saw Lily. She’d tracked her all the way from the bus stop on the corner, all the way across the carpark until she disappeared into the school building. Mary had watched, unblinking, becoming more and more convinced that she would be unable to leave her car today, much less go and teach. Why? Oh, very simple really, Lily was dressed up. As a cowboy.
A cowboy.
Her hair, normally flowing loose down her back was in two braids, a few strands flying loose and framing her face. The shirt embroidered with what looked like flowers was partly covered by a gorgeous waistcoat. Made of dark denim, it fit Lily like a glove, highlighting the curves of her waist and chest. The waistcoat was cut low, the shirt underneath unbuttoned not enough to be inappropriate but enough to give Mary a glance of the freckles beneath the bandana around her neck. Lily’s trousers were made of the same denim, the same fit that revealed enough to drive Mary insane while still being appropriate. The part of Lily’s boots visible seemed to be covered in the same flowers embroidered on her shirt, done with such care it screamed homemade; screamed hours and hours bent over shoes painstakingly adding every single detail. It screamed love and care and Mary thought she would explode.
Her usual somewhat ratty messenger bag had been replaced with one that you could have told Mary came straight from the wild west and she would have believed you without hesitation. Just when she was sure this couldn’t get any better, that Lily had officially reached the best she could ever look, she stopped, pulling something out of her bag. Mary watched, entranced, as she straightened out what looked to be a hat. Lily tipped her head forward slightly, putting the hat on as if this was something she did daily. She adjusted it, pulling her hair forward to sit over her shoulders and Mary couldn’t breathe. She didn’t take her eyes off Lily until she’d disappeared from sight, only then did she release a shaky breath, sat back against the car seat.
Mary was going to die. There was absolutely no way she would get through today, not while Lily looked like that. With hands that weren’t shaking, not even a little bit, Mary fished out her phone, infinitely glad Marlene answered her phone at nearly any cost.
“Hello? Mary?” Marlene answered on the second ring, the sounds of the garage around her crackling through the phone speaker.
“We have a problem,” Mary’s voice was horse, fuck.
“Code red?” The smirk in Marlene’s voice was clear, “Did the pretty girl smile at you? Aww”
Mary felt herself blush furiously, why had she called Marlene again? “She’s dressed up Marls, she looks so good.” Mary ignored the whine in her voice, more desperate to tell Marlene than to pretend she was unaffected by this.
To her credit, Marlene ignored the tone of voice, only sighing slightly, “Dressed as what, it can’t be that good.”
Oh, the innocence, Mary thought somewhat wildly, she doesn’t know, she hasn’t seen. “She’s dressed as a cowboy.”
The silence from the other end of the line spoke volumes. Mary knew what Marlene was thinking about; Dorcas had once gone as a cowboy for a themed New Year’s party and Mary had had to physically pick Marlene’s jaw up off the floor. “Oh. Good luck.”
Mary rolled her eyes, “Helpful Marls, really helpful.”
“Bitch.”
“Jerk.” Marlene responded without missing a beat, “Anyway I have customers, enjoy being gay!” She hung up without another word, leaving Mary still sat in the carpark, still thinking about cowboy hats and ginger hair. Safe to say she got very little work done all day, much to the delight of her students, content to watch documentaries most of the day.
-✿-
8 am on a Monday morning was far too early to expect Mary to function. This would be true on an average week, let alone the Monday after Halloween weekend. She’d spent Halloween with Marlene as tradition dictated, getting drunk and scared. Unfortunately, Mary hadn’t been quite sober as Marlene by the time they got to Scream 2. As such, she’d screamed so loudly the neighbours had knocked, asking if everything was alright. It wasn’t, Mary had gotten so scared she hadn’t slept. That, combined with the excessive amounts of alcohol she’d had at Dorcas’ Halloween party, left Mary glaring at the reception, wondering if she could get away with wearing sunglasses in November.
Maybe that second round of shots had been a bad idea.
Sunglasses (regretfully) left in the car, she made her way inside, balancing far too many pots of paint at once. She loved her students, she really did, but right as she nearly dropped her paints for the third time, Mary found herself questioning them slightly. They were 6 years old, were they really worth bringing nicer paints in for? Probably not. Then again, Mary had been having this argument with herself for months and found herself bringing in the nice paints every time without fail. They made the classroom look better she thought, the school paints were just so sad. What the paintings lacked in, well, skill, Mary was confident it was made up in the sheer vibrancy of the paints. Besides, the children seemed to like it.
The next thing to figure out was what she was going to get them to paint. Art lessons were by far Mary’s speciality and favourite thing to teach, and as such she would plan them weeks in advance, the theme coordinated to whatever mural was on her back wall. These last few weeks she’d found herself…preoccupied and since stumbling out of bed fifteen minutes before she had to leave this morning, Mary was fresh out of ideas.
Maybe she could get them to do flowers, she’d been wanting to paint Lily for weeks now. Mary stopped short, her thoughts catching herself off guard. That wasn’t what she meant, she had wanted to paint lilies for weeks now, not Lily.
The excuse sounded weak even to her. Marlen would absolutely crucify her if she ever heard that train of thoughts, it would be the death of Mary’s reputation.
She shook her head; Marlene would never know because Mary wouldn’t be painting Lily. Or lilies for that matter, maybe she should pick something else. It was probably too early to do Christmas; Mary hadn’t even recovered from Halloween. Maybe they could do leaf stamping. Yes, Mary thought, she was a genius. It would get the kids outside, allow them to have some fun, and look like leaves at the end. She smiled, the beginnings of a plan coming together. Maybe she could even cut them out, string them along the back wall, even add some-
- “Oh my god,”
Mary hit the ground hard, her paints going flying and being replaced by an armful of ginger hair. “Watch where you’re going!”
“I’m so sorry,” The response came from above and Mary froze as she was hit with a wave of Deja vu. She knew that voice. Smooth and rich like honey that filled Mary with the same warmth of a campfire.
Lily.
Mary looked up and all the breath left her lungs in a punch. There, directly above her was Lily, staring down at her with a panicked look of shock. Mary went to reassure her, apologise for the way she spoke, “I-”
Lily’s hair brushed against her cheek as she leaned in slightly and Mary felt the words die in her throat. She simply stared, tracing the patterns of Lily’s freckles across her nose and cheeks, the way a few disappeared down her neck and collarbone where her jumper had slipped. Mary stared and stared, her eyes stuck on the tiny flower that dangled from her septum piercing, just inches from her face.
A lily.
Mary leaned forwards, almost unconsciously, she could smell Lily’s perfume now, old books and cinnamon and a forest in the rain. It spiralled around her, making its way into Mary’s chest, into her heart. Good. Mary leaned forwards ever so slightly more, desperate to keep this scent, this closeness, bottle it up and keep it, get drunk on it.
Lily’s breath ghosted her nose and Mary froze sharply. What was she doing? They were in the middle of a corridor and Mary didn’t even know if Lily liked girls (God she hoped she did). “Lily,” Mary’s voice was horse, barely a whisper.
Lily nodded, staring at Mary like she was the reason the sun burned, and the earth turned. Mary felt herself blush furiously under Lily’s gaze, “I need,” She licked her lips, her mouth suddenly very dry and watched as Lily gave the same laser focus to Mary’s mouth now.
“Go on,” Her voice was deeper than Mary had heard it before, it made the hairs on her arms stand up, a sense of something crackling between them. Mary forced her next words out, “I need my paints, I’ve got to get to class.” The words tasted sour in her mouth.
Lily pulled away and Mary felt the distance like a physical blow. “Oh.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her hair and sat back on her heels, “Here you go then.”
Mary took them with a small smile, getting up towards her classroom. “Thank you.” She didn’t, couldn’t turn back the whole way there, for fear Lily would still be there and Mary wouldn’t be able to convince herself that the disappointment that had flashed across Lily’s face had been fake.
-✿-
The staff secret santa had been running since Mary’s second year. She couldn’t remember who started it, but it had become unique form of torture. There was a set of unspoken rules that had formed over the years, reducing gift options down to alcohol or chocolate. The last person to go off script had been Slughorn who had been met with such silent judgement that Mary was sure it was the reason behind him retiring two weeks later.
The only exception to this rule was Dumbledore, who you could give a stick from the floor, and he would treasure it as he would an unbeatable magic wand. This worked in Mary’s favour this year, as she had got the old man. She’d found an old Sweet Shop not too far from where she lived, down a funny little side street. It had been full of all kinds of things, sweets and chocolate Mary had never even heard of. In the end, she’d grabbed what looked like jellybeans and wrapped them up.
The other unspoken rule was that presents were left where the intended recipient could easily find them, you didn’t give them to the person, that ruined the “secret” element. Occasionally some members of staff found out who had given them their gift, either to thank them personally or to discreetly ask for the receipt.
Mary wasn’t surprised then, to walk into her class and find a present on the desk. It was wrapped in brown paper, tied with a green ribbon. Mary held it carefully, the care put into it clear even through the wrapping. She was normally one to absolutely destroy wrapping paper, tearing it open with the same enthusiasm she had when she was young. Now, Mary found herself cradling the gift, undoing the ribbon, and tying it in her hair to keep safe. She undid the wrapping with equal care, ripping the tape and folding the discarded paper up to the side, maybe she’d keep it for scrapbooking or something.
Mary put the box on the table with a care she rarely showed any of her possessions. As she opened the box, she was struck with the sense that this felt different somehow, delicate. She got the box open and gasped, glad it was on the table, or she might have dropped it. Inside the box was a glass jar, similar to a terrarium.
Inside the jar was the magic.
Painfully delicate, there sat a lily of the valley. Mary looked closer, hardly daring to breathe. Each flower looked to be made of glass, already casting a beautiful reflection as the sun streamed through them. She ran her hands around the base of the jar, stopping when she hit what seemed to be a switch. Mary flicked it on and held her breath.
The flowers light up.
Mary felt herself smile, a grin of pure joy as she watched the flowers. They seemed to move, flowing slightly in a breeze Mary knew couldn’t exist as the light changed within them. Details Mary had previously missed in the glass came to life, casting patterns across her arms, the walls, even the ceiling. She leaned back in delight, watching the patterns as they moved lazily across the room. The wild part of Mary thought of magic.
She leaned forward again, taking the box, desperate to see if there was a note or something, she had to thank whoever had got her such a present. The obvious thought was McGonagall but something about that didn’t sit right. Minnie always told her if she had Mary for secret santa, preferring to ask Mary what she needed rather than what McGonagall thought she might want. She hadn’t even mentioned lamps like this.
All at once, Mary remembered a conversation from months ago. It had been after a staff meeting and she’d been telling Minnie about these flower lamps she kept seeing online and how it was a shame Pandora was on leave because she would definitely know where to get them. Mary frowned, trying to remember who else had been in the room but it was no good; she could barely recall the conversation, there’s no way anyone else had and then used that information to by her a present.
A small card fell out of the box and Mary grabbed it, eager to know who her mystery gift giver was. To her disappointment, the card wasn’t named. It said Merry Christmas in looping cursive, a kiss, and some sort of symbol at the bottom. Mary bought the card closer and felt her heart drop. There, at the bottom of the page, was a lily. Mary held the card to her chest, her thoughts somehow stuck and spinning too quickly to catch. A lily of the valley, a lily on the card. Lily…lilies…Mary sat up straight, her thoughts all meeting as one.
Lily Evans.