Chapter Eight
It takes weeks, even months for Mary to accept the fact that she has to keep going to this school. And then it takes even more weeks for her to pick up a quill (yes, they use fucking quills for writing instead of pencils like normal fucking people) and to write to her father. When she asks Marlene where the letterbox is, she looks confused and just brings her to a big tower with hundredths of owls, who apparently send their letters.
Mary thinks it’s bullshit until she gets a letter back from her father. Then she pities the poor owls, that have to fly all across the world just because they won’t hire a mailman. She chooses to write as little as possible and when she finally can go back home for Christmas her father asks her to write more and then she tells him that he should just go there himself, if that’s what he wants. Her response looses its sharpness due to the tears, that start to run down her cheeks.
She can’t really remember her holidays, only that they hold each other a lot, that they eat pasta everyday and play poker so much until Mary still feels the cards in her hands as she lays down in bed. They cry and laugh and Mary lives more in those few days than she has in the past months.
“I love you.” Her father says everyday, but the words feel hollow to Mary, when the only thing she can see is the packed suitcase by the door.
When she goes back, she takes more. All her sea and poker books and cards and when her father hugs her, she tries for the last time, already knowing the answer.
“Please don’t leave me.” She whispers in his chest, his arms around her.
She can feel him pressing a kiss on her head. “I’m sorry.”
Mary nods and without crying she goes on the train again. The wound hasn’t healed at all, but even the worst pain feels dull after some time and if Mary knows anything by heart, then it’s definitely being numb.
She spends her time in school mostly with Peter, the both of them playing any game possible, while gossiping about their schoolmates and teachers. Otherwise she stays with Marlene. Energetic, loud, always grinning Marlene, with her bright smile, that even manages a quirking lip out of Mary. She would never confess it, but sometimes she even has a little fun, talking and laughing with the other girl, who always manages to see the positive in anything.
Marlene drags her out of bed and keeps her entertained in even the most boring lessons. And so it’s not that unusual to find an extremely excited Marlene and an about her excitement grinning Mary walking through the corridors of Hogwarts.
Lily is, well, she is someone, Mary mostly tries to avoid. For Lily’s safety, mind you. Or would you like her to punch the girl? It’s- well, it’s complicated. Mary wouldn’t call herself petty or resentful. She just- well, she just kind of is. So, when she sees the red head now, walking through the corridors, either with Remus or that Severus guy, she kind of makes a hundred and eighty degree turn.
Lily doesn’t try to talk with her either. It’s not as if they are essentially mean to each other. No, they just don’t talk and yeah, I mean, maybe they would glare at each other occasionally. So what? Not Mary’s fault that Lily just always happens to be in the way.
They especially don’t talk about the incident. Mary decided to name her little, or maybe not so little breakdown incident, because thinking about it made her want to have just another one. Lily doesn’t mention it and Mary doesn’t insult her outright again. Well, expect that one time in potions, when Lily giggled with Remus about some nerd joke. And that time, she told Mary to do her essay. And that other time, when she ranted about some annoying book for hours. And that time she asked Mary for a paper. And then every other given opportunity, because, yes, Mary is petty and resentful and yes, they are in fact maybe a little mean to each other and no, Mary doesn’t care about maturity, because she’s only eleven and Lily can actually fuck herself.
It’s complicated.
Marlene remains oblivious to their fight. She doesn’t stop trying to get them to do something together, which always ends with a poor lie from Lily (“I’m really sorry, Marlene, really, but I have to finish that essay. But you two can hang out alone, right?”) and Mary boldly telling her that her idea sucks.
“Oh, come on!” Marlene would groan. “Why can’t we do stuff together like everyone else?”
“We do stuff together.” Mary counters, frowning at them literally sitting together outside.
“No, we do stuff together.” She points at them both. “And I and Lily do stuff together. But never the three of us.”
Mary shrugs. “Well, Lily could stop being annoying.” And then Marlene would groan and let her head fall back and they would keep being separated.
It’s only on James' birthday, that they do something together as a group. None of them ever celebrated their birthday really big. Mary actually didn’t realize that Sirius and Remus were already eleven, too. It makes sense for Remus as he’s more the quiet and reserved type, but Mary definitely thought Sirius would at least make half the deal, that James makes of his.
Apparently, though, Sirius didn’t even know one could celebrate their birthday big. He stares with starstruck eyes at the big cake in front of James, the whole dorm of the boys decorated with a big banner and many, many balloons.
James is beaming from one ear to the other as they all sit around him on the floor. Remus, Peter and Sirius sit on his right side as Marlene, Lily and Mary sit on the other. Mary didn’t even really consider herself as a friend of James, but apparently she is. Not that she minds; that cake looks fucking delicious.
“Where did you get that cake?” Marlene asks, wonder in her voice.
He grins at her. “My mam sent it. She always makes one.”
“Man, I didn’t even know we could do that.” Marlene whispers almost as fascinated as Sirius. Then she turns in one swift motion to Lily and Mary. “We’ll do the same for your birthdays. When are they?”
Lily grimaces, freckles crunching up on her face. “Oh, I’m really sorry. I already had mine.”
“What?” Marlene gapes at her. “You’re already eleven?”
She shrugs. “Yeah?”
“And you didn’t tell me? How could you not tell me? Oh, shit, I didn’t even get you a gift!”
“I don’t need one. It’s fine, really.” Lily smiles slightly. “I didn’t want to make a big deal.”
Marlene gasps. “Make a big deal? Are you kidding me? Tell me your birthday right now so that I can give you a hundred presents next year!”
Lily laughs softly. “No, don’t do that, really, it’s fine.” She smiles. “But my birthday is on the 30th of January. I always celebrate with Sev, you know, because he is born in the same month.”
Marlene nods. “Okay, 30th of January, 30th of January. I can remember that.” She turns to Mary. “Now you, don’t you dare tell me you kept it a secret, too!”
Mary shrugs, grinning at Marlene’s outraged expression. “It’s 16th of September, but don’t bother remembering it. I couldn’t give a shit, if I tried.”
“Hey!” James interrupts his conversation with Peter to turn to her. “No swearing on my birthday!”
Mary rolls her eyes, but doesn’t get to answer as Marlene lets herself fall back all over Mary and Lily’s laps. “I’m such a bad friend!” She cries out rather dramatically. “Oh, Merlin, I am such a bad friend. How could I not notice? How could I not know?”
“No, don’t feel bad.” Lily says, laughing slightly at Marlene. “It’s fine.”
“Yeah.” Mary, for the first time ever maybe, agrees with Lily. “We just won’t celebrate your birthday, too. That way it’s fair.”
“No!” Both Lily and Marlene exclaim at the same time.
“No.” Lily repeats, throwing Mary a glare, who just sticks her tongue out. “We’ll just celebrate yours very big, so that it’s kind of our all birthday.”
Marlene sighs, her light brown eyes all big and sad as she looks up to them. “It doesn’t matter anyway.”
Lily frowns. “Why?”
The girl in their laps sighs again, all long and dramatic. “My birthday’s in August. We won’t see each other then.”
“Oh.” The frown on Lily’s forehead increases, until she smiles softly. “Well, I’ll send you many, many presents, so it will be just as if we are there.”
“I won’t.”
Instantly, Lily glares at Mary.
She rolls her eyes. “Kidding, idiot. Ever heard of a joke?”
“Try to make a funny one, then I’ll maybe recognize it.” Lily snaps back.
Marlene cackles. “Whoa.” She calls. “What happened to the Lily I know?”
A frown appears back onto Lily’s face. “What do you mean?” But before Marlene can elaborate, James starts to cut the cake and quickly the girl sits up again and matches his screams of excitement as they see the molten chocolate inside it. But Mary looks at Lily and the deep frown on her face says everything she tried to make her realize back when they were still talking. And then Lily looks at her, her eyes narrowing as if she could read Mary’s thoughts.
“Be honest.” Mary mouths. Be you.
Something passes over Lily’s face and just as Mary thinks she’ll just ignore her, Lily mouths back: “Be nice.” Care.
They only start glaring at each other after a whole day, which doesn’t sound much, but is the longest they ever did.
***
The school year goes on and on. Mary would cry at night and laugh at daytime. Panic would sit under her skin, waiting to jump out and overcome her at any given moment and if her nails would draw blood in her palms, then they would only fade away with the drop of her tears.
She would play with Peter, grin with Marlene, glare at Lily and roll her eyes even more often than Remus. On the good days everything felt like a dream, like maybe she could just wake up and look at the stars on her ceiling again. But then on bad days everything felt too real and that reality had claws sharper than any knife, cutting at her from all sides and cornering her in a shape, where she felt like there was no room for herself anymore.
Magic was another thing. She felt sick doing it, casting spells and feeling it pouring out of her, flowing in her veins, in her blood. It was like a second heart, beating and pounding, overtaking every movement of her. The wand would feel weird in her hand, too small and too big, too cold and too warm. Where some people said the wand was their sixth finger, it was for Mary a knife forced into her life by stabbing it in her throat, stopping her from breathing, from feeling anything other than so deeply uncomfortable that sometimes she would seek out pain just to stop her skin from tingling. Pinching and scratching her skin, feeling the sting in her eyes, the sting on her body, the sting of magic numbing for a second.
But still the school year goes on and on and suddenly Mary has to pack her suitcase again, this time with a small, secretive smile, that is only meant for herself. Something warm to hold close and let itself wrap around her shattered heart.
And when she hugs Marlene for the last time, sticks her tongue out to Lily, shoves Peter playfully away, waves James, Sirius and Remus and shows the train her middle fingers, her grin might just be honest.
“I missed you.” Her father mumbles in her hair, holding her tightly to his chest.
The stars on her ceiling glow more than ever, when she lays in bed that day.