State Of Grace

Letter from Mary to Lily:

25th December, 1976

My dearest Lilyflower,

I hope you’re having a great Christmas (maybe this time, it’s better than mine, though it’s not that difficult to surpass it).

How are you? And I don’t mean it in the polite, conversation starter kind of way. I mean it genuinely. How are you? I know you rarely like to talk about it, so I won’t ask for details, but please give me an honest answer.

In exchange, I’ll give you an honest answer to the same question: I am not doing great. Like, at all. The family’s falling apart (what’s new, though, at this point?) and I miss you like crazy. All of you.

But, onto a lighter topic, I absolutely adore the gift you gave me; those oil paints are gonna help me so much with my paintings. You know how much I hate doing commissions, but I fear I’ll have to make an exception for you, dear Lily, because your present made my day, week, and month.

I hope you liked what I gave you, too, and that you’re not having a really shit time right now.

I cannot wait for the party (yes, I said party; go cry about it, Potter) on New Year’s Eve, because I’ll finally be able to see you  all. Honestly, I’m surprised my parents let me go, but I suspect they’re only being nice so my decision works in their favour (don’t ask about it, because I still have no idea what I’m going to do).

Do you think we could meet up someday during the holidays (before or after New Year’s, obviously)? I’m fairly certain my family will let me, you’ve just got to convince yours (if you want, of course). Write to me when you have an answer, and we can figure out the details if it’s a yes, or curse them all if it’s a no (just kidding… mostly).

Anyways, I hope you have a nice break (considering the circumstances), and I’ll see you soon!

Love,

Mary <3

Letter from Lily to Mary:

26th December, 1976

Dear Mary,

You stole my line. How am I supposed to start a letter if not with a simple “how are you”? That’s it, we’re no longer friends (I’m obviously kidding, you’re never getting rid of me).

I’m not having the best time, either, as usual. She who must not be named is pretty much ignoring me, save for a few disgusted glances here and there, but I rather prefer this over her incessant insults, so it’s not the worst year. I think my parents cleared the air with a few of my relatives about why exactly I’m away so much, because they’re being a bit nicer (no idea what they’ve told them, though). Still, Christmas dinner was a bit awkward.

I’m really glad you liked the paints, because I spent a lot of time thinking about the perfect gift for you. I will not be placing a commission, you know I’m too indecisive for all that shit, but if you want to make me something, I’ll happily accept it. Being your first client will certainly be an achievement, because I’m sure I won’t be the last one (this is me trying to say that you’ll be very successful if you put your mind into it without saying it directly, by the way, don’t know if you caught that).

How are you even wondering if I liked your present? How is that even a question? Honestly, this is possibly the best gift I’ve ever received. I mean, the full collection of Edgar Allan Poe’s stories and poems? It’s like you live inside my mind. 

If you didn’t catch that, it’s a very intricate way to say “thank you so much”. I’m really bad at expressing myself, sorry.

Anyways, I’m also really looking forward to the party. Also, what are you going to wear? I’m not sure if this is a bit of a formal event, or maybe a regular hang out session with friends, or something in between… I frankly have no idea, so tell me how you interpreted it and then at least we’ll stand out together if we didn’t get the theme right.

I asked my parents, and they said I can meet up with you on the 28th, if that’s alright with you. We could go to Diagon Alley, maybe have lunch there if you feel like it? Whatever you want, honestly. I think Marlene will still be in Ireland, or bonding with her mum (a bit jealous, honestly, but don’t tell her I said that), so I hope it’s alright with you that it’s just the two of us. 

I hope the rest of your holidays get better than they are now, and hope we can meet up. If not, at least I’ll see you on New Year’s Eve, and in no time we’ll be back to school (my mantra at this point, judging by how much I say it to myself everytime something happens).

Miss you,

Your Lily Evans.

Letter from Remus to Lily:

26th December, 1976

Beloved Lily,

Do you need me to pay your sister a little visit (preferably with Sirius, since he’s already of age, if you know what I mean)? Because if she’s making you even a little bit miserable, I’ll be right there to defend your honour (not in a patriarchal, women need men to protect them way, just in an I love you so much I don’t want anything making you sad because you’re my best friend way).

I am spending some of my holidays with my parents. After so much time away, I always forget what it’s like to be an only child (very lonely, if you’re curious, but I get why you might envy that, given the situation (again, my wand and jinx knowledge are always available)). Mum is always up in my business, but at least she’s nice about it. And if there’s something I’ve missed, it’s her cooking. Honestly, I don’t quite believe that she’s a muggle, because there’s some kind of magic in her cuisine (she says it’s love, but I don’t buy it).

In a few days, though, I’ll leave them again to visit the Potters (and Peter and Sirius). There’s no place like Wales, obviously (there’s my patriotic side jumping out), but Euphemia and Fleamont’s house comes pretty close. It almost feels like home, and I’ve only been there a handful of times. I can’t remember if you’ve ever been but, if you haven’t, I can tell you that it leaves an impression, and you’ll love it there.

Speaking of loving things (yes, I know I’m shit at relating stuff, leave me alone), thank you for your present. Not one, not two, but three pretentious novels by Russian and British authors to further fuel my individuality complex. As much as you complain about me being a snob (which I totally am, I’ve gotten past the stage of denial), you do nothing to stop me from becoming one. Quite the opposite, in fact, for which I must thank you.

I would say that I hope you liked my gift, but I know you did, so it’s just a waste of ink (yes, I realise that I’m wasting more ink this way, let me be a contradiction). 

Are you gonna kiss anyone at the New Year’s gathering (James insisted we call it that, as if we’re all having a mid-life crisis)? Just so you know, I am smirking suggestively right now, and you’re rolling your eyes. It’s like we never said goodbye (wipes tears away).

Sorry if there are any mistakes in this, but I will cringe if I have to reread anything I write, so you’re just gonna have to deal with it.

See you soon,

Remus J. Lupin.

Lily’s diary, December 26th:

Dear diary, 

I hate Petunia (if I had a sickle for every time I’ve said this, I would be twice as rich as Sirius and James combined, honestly). I hate her. I hate her so much.

She hasn’t even done something worth mentioning, really, it’s just her presence, her glares, her judging eyebrows (seriously, how can eyebrows be so expressive?). I just hate her.

Oh and, did I mention that I hate mum and dad, too? Because I do. “Poor Petunia, she’s so misunderstood, you’ve got to see things from her point of view, Lily.” Shut. Up.

Onto a much newer topic, though, I have finally come to a conclusion about my little problem with Mary and… Everything. After many sleepless nights, rolling around in bed and staring at the ceiling, I thought and thought until all the drawers got locked up for the night and I fell into the land of dreams (I love being dramatic and, honestly, this time it’s justified, because this is a big thing).

I don’t have everything figured out, but enough of it to know that I may have a teeny-tiny little minor crush on Mary. My best friend. After the last few months, this was the easy thing to come to terms with, because I was already suspecting it.

Easy: realising I like women (honestly, how could I not?). Sort of easy: realising I like one woman in particular. Not that easy: realising that it’s my best friend in the whole world. Mary. Mary, Mary, Mary. A bit hard: realising there’s very little possibility that she could ever feel the same way (this is not really an assumption, because she has gone out with multiple boys, and no girls. Plus, even if she did like women, who’s to say she would fancy me, of all people, when she could have anyone?). Hard: I don’t think I like men like that. Not even a little bit. That is the worst thing I’ve had to come to terms with, really, and it’s not like boys are really important to me, but to realise that I will never get to experience what all the books talk about, not in that way, and that I’ll always be an outcast… That is what’s really hard to deal with.

I imagine this must be how Marlene felt when she first realised, too, and I regret not being there for her more than I was. She said she’s a lesbian, so I suppose that makes me one, too.

If it’s good enough for Sappho and Emily Dickinson, it’s good enough for me. 

I am a lesbian.

It’s a pretty word. Just from an aesthetic point of view, even, but also for what it means. It’s part of me now, and of so many other people in the world.

It’s something that men will never be able to sneak into, because it’s not for them. It’s for everyone but them, and that is beautiful in itself. A safe community, in a way. I don’t mean to say that men are all demons, but society is filled with them, even when they shouldn’t be in that one place. 

I’m not sure if I’m making any sense at all, but I’m the only person who will ever read this, and I’ve got premium access to any and all files inside my head, which helps me understand exactly what I’m trying to say.

To summarise, I’m a lesbian who fancies her best friend (a walking stereotype, as much as I despise them). Actually, I’m glad it was Mary, because there are certainly worse people to fall for.

I mean, she fucking gave me a book of everything one of my favourite writers has ever written, how the hell does she expect me to not fall in love with her, honestly? It’s just not possible. Really, it’s her fault, at this point.

Letter from Regulus to Dorcas:

27th December, 1976

Dorcas,

Did you know that, even though snakes have nostrils, they smell with their tongue? By the way, this is a rhetorical question, it’s just a more common way to state some fun facts, I suppose. I found a book about it in the library (“it” referring to snakes, not ways to start a conversation, though maybe I should’ve gone with the latter, because I am failing miserably).

I’m spending most of my time going from the library to my room and vice versa, but I could not escape from the annual family dinners, as much as I wanted to.

I could think of millions of better things I could be doing instead of sitting at a table full of relatives and potential fiancées (those are not two separate categories, by the way. The price to pay to have eyes as pretty as mine, I guess). 

I hope you’re having a good time, at least. Maybe I can live through you vicariously, if you’d let me (just kidding, though it would be nice, but I would never wish for you to have to be around my entire family for more than five seconds (and even that is pushing it)).

I haven’t gotten any letters from Barty, have you heard anything about him? Evan briefly came to visit me (and when I say “briefly”, I mean it. It was barely twenty minutes), so at least my life wasn’t all that miserable for that short period of time (don’t tell him I said that, though; he’ll never let me live it down).

You think you’re so funny, don’t you, giving me a pair of swim trunks when you know I am never setting foot in a body of water if it isn’t to shower or bathe. Can you hear me laughing from here? At least you gave me some food to make up for it. That’s the only reason our friendship (pukes) is still standing.

On a more serious note, the food basically did save my life, not in a dramatic way, because my dear mother and father decided to lock me in my room for “inappropriate behaviour”. I thought that was Simy brother’s speciality, but it turns out I’m more than capable of filling the void he left.

I’ll kill you if you ever show this to someone, but I kind of understand why he left. Maybe he’s not so stupid, after all. However, he is stupid for leaving me, and I will never ever forgive him. I would put it in my tombstone if I didn’t want at least one aspect of my life (or lack thereof, in that case) to not revolve around him.

How are you? I wish we could all hang out, but my parents are a bunch of killjoys, and Barty’s are more of the same, so I suppose I’ll see you on the train.

Au revoir (you told me to mix it up because “regards” was too impersonal, so you’re stuck with French from now on),

R.A.B.

Letter from Barty to Dorcas:

27th December, 1976

Hi, Dorcas, how are you doing? I am this close (you can’t see me, but I assure you my fingers are very close together) to murdering my father and leaving home. Reg’s brother was way ahead of his time. A pioneer, if you will (I still hate him though, but you get my point).

So, if you couldn’t tell, my father has been making my life a living hell. He intercepts all the letters to and from Regulus and Evan, because he says their families are “not the right sort”. As opposed to you, father, who are the spitting image of a perfect father figure? I don’t fucking care about their families, I care about them (take this to the fucking grave, Meadowes).

At least I’ve got my mother to help me through it all. She keeps me company and tries to make everything easier for me. She even managed to save a letter before my father burned it. It was from Regulus. Tell him to get out while he still can, and tell him and Evan that I say hi.

I hope you’re having a great time because, so far, my Christmas has been a blur of Ministry employees passing by and formal dinners with the metaphorical hand of my father holding me by the throat (ugh, I’ve spent too much time with Regulus and now I’m starting to speak like him, Merlin help me).

I am so bored and secluded that I even considered picking up a book. Me! Can you imagine, Dorcas, how bad things must be for me to even contemplate the idea of moving my eyes back and forth for hours on end just to feel something? I even surprised myself with this one.

I also cannot believe I’m already wishing I could go back to school. Send help (just kidding, in case my dad manages to stop the owl before it reaches you).

Barty.

Letter from Pandora to Dorcas:

December 29th, 1976

My beautiful Dorcas,

Are you feeling alright? Do you miss me so much you can barely function at all? Are you waiting by the window for when Vita (that’s my owl, doesn’t the name suit her?) finally arrives, bearing news from me? Are you filling the paper with tears of happiness as you read the words I’ve written?

But enough about you, I’m sure you’ll fill me in when you answer with a letter of your own. For now, you just have to sit through about a page of me telling you about my life, which is much more interesting (you know I’m kidding, though, right? I love you too much to not make it clear).

Okay, so, my mother and I went on a hike the other day to find some ingredients for her potions (I think you know this already but, if you don’t, she owns a potions shop for any and all occasions, so go buy something from her if you ever need it, and not from any of her rivals). Anyways, we found a demiguise as we walked. My mum says I’m really good at recognising those magical creatures, but doesn’t she know that I’m good at everything? How could she forget that, my own mother?

Either way, that wasn’t the only encounter we had. On the way back, I saw a snidget flying past. I know they are creatures that like to live in the wild (especially after wizards tried to domesticate them so they could play Quidditch), so I let it be and didn’t try chasing it (basic human decency, really, but tell that to our ancestors). It followed us home, though, so I gave it some food and now it roams about the house. I wouldn’t consider them my pet (I have decided its pronouns are it/they, and if they don’t like it, they’ll make it known), but I couldn’t resist giving it a name. I thought Snitch is a bit obvious (and insensitive), and anything revolving around gold or flying would be too cliché, so I finally settled for… Dorky!

If you couldn’t tell, that name is in your honour, so you’ve got a twin now. I love Dorky with my whole heart and, if anything happened to it, I would have to stop being your friend (your name would be a reminder of my baby, and we can’t have that. It would just be too painful), so you better pray it lives a long and happy life (again, I’m just kidding, lovely).

My father taught me some new spells, I can show them to you and the gang (can you imagine if we were actually a gang? Everyone thinks Reg would be the leader, but I’ve got my money on you) when we get back to Hogwarts. 

I’m gonna go visit my aunts in Sussex for a few days, it’ll be their ten year anniversary soon, so they’re having a bit of a celebration. I think you’d like them.

xxx,

Pandora.

P.S: Can you feed Vita some mice, please? She gets tired really fast. Can owls be anaemic? Because I think mine is.

Letter from Dorcas to Evan:

28th December, 1976

Dear Evan,

What are you up to these days?

I was expecting to have a nice family Christmas like always, with my parents and my brother, but apparently Robert has friends now? This is betrayal in its truest form. Who the fuck hangs out with their friends on Christmas? Having a Christmas dinner with just three people should frankly be illegal, plus all the attention was on me (yes, I know I've been gone for months and they obviously wanted to know how I was doing, but still), I hate being the centre of attention. Rob's home now, though, but he's being really annoying (nothing new, to be honest). At least he got me a present, I guess, although I don't know if it really classfies as such, because it was my Slytherin scarf, which he'd apparently taken when I came back and decided to hold hostage in his room until he could "gift" it to me. I genuinely have no idea how his mind works, sometimes. Oh, and one of my older cousins came to visit for a few days, it was pretty fun. She's living in Scotland with her boyfriend now. She told me I could visit her anytime, so I'm definitely taking her up on her offer someday. She's, like, the coolest relative I have, seriously. And she has a cat! She is living my dream (well, except for the boyfriend part, obviously).

But, anyways, how are you? Yes, I do realise this is the second time I’ve asked you, but I need to divert the topic from my life to yours, sorry not sorry.

Did you like the gift I gave you? I wasn’t sure which Jane Austen books you’ve read already, so I got you four just to be sure. I even looked for the prettiest covers, so you better like them a lot.

Barty told me to say hi to you. His father is being a bitch right now, so he can’t read or send any letters from/to you or Regulus. I think it’s better for him if you don’t try sending him anything else. He didn’t say that, but I know it can’t be good for him to have his dad angry at him for the company he keeps. Better to not remind him of it so often.

Alright, I think that’s all. I haven’t really done much these days, so the letters are going to be quite short.

See you soon,

Dorcas.

Mary’s diary, December 29th:

Yesterday I saw Lily. She was acting a bit strange, but I think it’s just because we don’t normally do things outside of school, so it was out of the ordinary. She looked tired. She wouldn’t say, but I think it’s because of her sister. I hate her for making Lily feel that way. How dare she?

Either way, we had a great time. She bought me a necklace (said it was to compensate for the fact that she ended up keeping the lily necklace I gave her back in September). It’s very pretty. It has a spider on it, but a cute one. She helped me put it on.

We visited a lot of the shops in Diagon Alley, and then we went back to Muggle London and found a little Christmas market. It was kind of romant  nice. It was really nice. It even snowed a bit. Not enough to be a nuisance, but enough to make everything shiny and ideal. Like the pictures in postcards. They always have snow, and the Big Ben in the background, and a grey sky on top. They’re all the same.

I got home right after dinner, but I just went up to my room without greeting anyone. My parents are still expecting me to choose a side, because the twins have, and they’ve taken little Amy with them. I haven’t talked to any of them much, but I think I’ll try to convince them to opt for shared custody. I think I could make a compelling argument, if only I have time to prepare it properly.

Maybe then, my parents will stop acting like children, and they’ll see that it’s best to just… share (honestly, the fact that I’m talking about people well into their forties, not about preschoolers, is wild), instead of making everything into a competition. Frankly, I’m surprised they didn’t get divorced sooner (it actually still hasn’t finalised, but you get my point).

At least I’ll be able to get away from all this in just two days. Then I’ll see Lily again, and all my other friends, and I can forget about everything (hopefully with a bit of help from alcohol, if Effie is fine with it).

Lily looked so pretty yesterday. I think she cut her hair, but I’m not sure. I forgot to ask. Whatever she did, it looks wonderful on her. She smelled like cinnamon and lillies when we hugged.

I wonder what she

Letter from Sirius to Mary:

December 28th, 1976

Mary Mary Mary Mary,

How are you? You know what? I don’t actually care a lot about that, because I’m a bit shaken up. Like, you think I’m being dramatic, but I’m really not. Something crazy just happened.

I won’t leave you hanging, don’t worry. Just… Will you tell Marlene and Lily? The others all know, since they were there, but I don’t think I have it in me to explain it more than once.

Yesterday, Regulus came to the Potter’s. Like, he just stood there, at the door, with a suitcase by his side. I thought he might want to explain himself to a small audience first (aka me), instead of having a bunch of eyes on him when he was clearly distressed, so I took him to my room.

He told me he ran away from “home”, because he just couldn’t take it anymore (relatable, honestly), but he didn’t know where to go. He either didn’t know where his friends lived, or knew their parents wouldn’t want him there, so he went to me (don’t know how I feel about being the last possible option, as he stated multiple times, but at least I was one).

So, anyways, he says he came here the muggle way (Merlin knows where he found the money for it, or how he could understand it, being from a pureblood family and all), and just hoped I wouldn’t be too mad to turn him away, after all this time.

I don’t know if he has forgiven me yet, but I think I’m almost there. After all, he was never the reason I left, and I think his reaction was pretty justified (I’m feeling quite generous with him right now because he’s a bit vulnerable, so don’t hold it against me later). I think, for him, it might take longer but, since he’s staying at “my” house, sorta, he’ll just have to. He needs time, and I understand that, but maybe this kind of forced proximity will accelerate things a bit for me.

James is acting a bit weird around him, but I think he just wants to be nice because he knows how bad our parents can be, and he’s had a bit of experience dealing with runaway Blacks. I think Reg appreciates it, because he tries to roll his eyes when James isn’t looking. I still see it, though, but it’s honestly more amusing than anything.

In any case, you’re gonna get to see that for yourself quite soon, because I’m gonna force him to stay at the New Year’s gathering with us. Just be nice to him. I know I’ve said a lot of shit about him, but I was hurt and trying to cope. I promise he’s not that bad. Just a bit mean, really. You’ll get used to it.

Sirius.

Letter from Mary to Marlene:

30th December, 1976

Dear Marlene, Marley, Marls,

Just one day until we see each other again! I know you’re probably missing me so much right now and, I mean, can I blame you? I would miss me, too, if I wasn’t me myself (I think I just had a stroke while rereading that, but you get it).

How was Ireland? Did you bring any potatoes back?

I hope you’re ready to get absolutely wasted at the PARTY tomorrow, because I know I am. I’ve got the perfect dress for the occasion. You have to wear something fancy, because me and Lily agreed that we would, and you can’t be the odd (wo)man out. Plus, we’ll make the boys look bad.

Speaking of, Sirius told me to tell you that Regulus ran away from his old house and is now living with the Potters, too. Sirius said to be nice to him, just letting you know, and that he’s going to be with us celebrating the new year.

But, back to me, I actually met Lily two days ago, we hung out around Diagon Alley (yes, without you, Marlene, crucify us. It wasn’t like you were in Ireland or anything).

I am still trying to convince my family that shared custody is the way to go. They’re not budging yet, but I think that, with a bit more time, I might be able to make them see the light. Maybe hope is not yet lost.

I hope you liked your broom polishing kit, because it cost me way too fucking much. The things I do for you, honestly…

But it’s alright, really, because that makeup kit was out of this world. The eyeshadows, the blushes, the lipsticks… Paradise in a box (but no one can top Lily’s gift, though, I’ll paint her the entire galaxy up to scale with those paints if she wants me to).

I bet you’re really lovesick right now, after so many days without seeing the love of your life (aka Dorcas Meadowes). How are you even surviving without seeing their beautiful eyes or smelling her lemony scent?

In all seriousness, though, I hope you’re having a good break.

Until tomorrow,

Mary.

Letter from Peter to Marlene:

30th December, 1976

M²,

Hello, how are you doing? I hope your trip to Ireland went well, and that you’re ready to party- I mean gather tomorrow.

Sirius told me he already put you up to speed with all the new developments, so I figured it’s safe to tell you how fucking stupid James is about and around Regulus. I’ve never heard him stutter so much, and his face now has a permanent red tint to it.

Sirius and Remus are no better, honestly. I just want to push their heads together and get this over with.

There we go, that’s six lines already, plus the one I’m currently writing, new record! You can’t complain now, McKinnon.

Xoxo,

Peter.

Marlene’s diary, January 1st:

My head is killing me. As it turns out, the party did have alcohol, and quite a lot of it. At least it didn’t affect my memory, because this was a night to remember.

Let’s get into it: first and foremost, the most important event of the night: Euphemia Potter gave me a kiss on the cheek! Fleamont, I am stealing your wife. It’s a shame that I’ll have to be a parental figure to James, Sirius, and now Regulus, but anything for love.

Just kidding, the most important thing that happened last night (that one was a close second, though) was that Remus and Sirius fucking kissed!!!

That’s right, it’s not a figment of my imagination anymore (I checked). They actually kissed. It obviously happened at midnight, just as we welcomed the new year of 1977. Honestly, no one was expecting it, but we were all pleasantly surprised (shouts of “fucking finally” and “about time” were heard here and there, and I think even Fleamont clapped). Regulus made a lot of disgusted noises, but I think he was actually happy for Sirius.

Speaking of Reg, I actually talked to him a bit, and he’s not half bad. It’s a pity he doesn’t know how to make better friends, and he’s stuck with Dorcas now. 

He got pretty drunk, and he told me I looked like Stevie Nicks, which I think is one of the nicest compliments I’ve ever gotten. 

Lily told me she had to talk to me about something, but she wouldn’t say what, so I’m expecting a letter from her anytime now to give me a bit of clarity.

Judging by the way she was staring at Mary, though, I think I might have an idea what it’s about. Not like Mary is any better, I swear she had her eyes glued to Lily the entire night, but I’m pretty sure she’s a bit more oblivious than her. I still think she can figure things out without me having to intervene, but I’m not above meddling if it’ll help my two best friends (sorry, Pete) finally get together.

Oh, and, did I mention James? Because he quite literally couldn’t tear his eyes away from the little Black. It was just mildly amusing, but it became hilarious when he was so engrossed by him that he walked head-first into a wall. Later, James told me it was just his elaborate plan to get Regulus to look at him (which, to give credit where credit is due, did happen, but he was just laughing at him), but I knew that was just an excuse.

Looks like 1977 is going to be a year full to the brim of gay people and, frankly, what could be better than that? Now it’s up to me to find someone I can walk into walls for.

Letter from James to Marlene:

2nd January, 1977

Hello, Marlene,

How are you doing on this fine evening? 

Personally, I could not be feeling better. Please tell me you saw Regulus looking at me during the gathering. Tell me it’s not just my imagination, because I swear I saw him looking my way on more than one occasion (not only when I collided with the wall, which made him laugh, actually, so I would count that as an absolute win, despite what you say).

I’ve been trying to keep my little “crush” on the low for now, because I think Regulus just needs some time to get used to his new situation, so I have decided I’m just going to be nice for the sake of being nice and, when things have calmed down a bit, I can go back to my plan to make him fall in love with me (which will work, even if you’re all so cynical about it).

I think he can tell what I’m doing, because he doesn’t even roll his eyes when I try to do something for him anymore. He even smiled at me once (did I almost faint, which kind of defeats the whole “ignore the fact that you fancy him” bit? You know I did, Marls, but how could I not, really?).

But, speaking of falling in love, how cool is it that Sirius and Remus are finally dating? Yes, it wasn’t just a spur of the moment thing, they actually talked (Pete and I may have had something to do with that), and then announced that they were boyfriends. I’m a bit jealous, actually, but it was obvious that these two had to be the first ones in a relationship, after many many years of pining and yearning. Hopefully I’ll be next.

Or, maybe, it’ll be you, McKinnon ;). After talking with Mary a bit, I have jumped on the “dorlene/marcas” train (that’s your name combined with Dorcas’, Mary and I thought these two were the best ones, but you choose which one you prefer). 

It appears love is in the air for everyone this year. Maybe we should set Lily or Mary up with someone, what do you think? Maybe they’ve told you something I don’t know, and their hearts are already taken, but I think it’s worth a shot.

Just so you know, I didn’t include Peter in there because, even after many hours trying to convince him, he told me he’d rather get run over by a truck than let me choose someone for him, so it’s his loss.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed our celebration at home, and know you’re always welcome, just as long as you don’t make any more jokes about shagging my mum.

See you on the train,

James.

P.S: I just gave Regulus a book (because I think Sirius said he likes to read, but obviously he didn’t have time to pack any when he left) and he said thank you!! This is not a drill, he thanked me, Marlene. Love was in the air, but now I think I’ve swallowed it all.

Letter from Lily to Marlene:

2nd January, 1977

Dear Marlene,

How are you?

I know I told you I would write to you about it as soon as I woke up, but I had the worst hangover ever, so this is a day late.

Alright, so, you remember that little talk we had at the first party, back in September? Well, I do, and I’ve had a lot of time to think over the holidays. So much time, in fact, that I’ve finally come to a conclusion.

Since talking to you helped me, I figured you should be the first to know (and also because I think you might really understand what I’m talking about).

I am a lesbian. 

Okay, that was the hard part, I think. I’m a lesbian, and I’m happy to be one.

I’ve had a whole crisis about it, per usual, but now I’ve reached the final stage: acceptance. I also think you’re really brave (?) for always being proud of your identity, and not letting other people get to you about it.

And, really, props to you for finding out so soon, I personally could never, and it’s not like it was that hard to figure out.

Well, I’ve lied. That wasn’t the difficult part. It’s the one that comes now, actually.

What I’m about to tell you cannot, under any circumstances, see the light. I’m afraid you’ll have to burn this letter (not really, but don’t let anyone read it. Please).

I think I fancy Mary.

Yeah. I definitely fancy her. But I think it’ll be alright. Not now, of course, but with time. I’m sure it’ll pass soon enough, and then we can go back to normal, as if it never even happened.

I’m sure I can count on you to keep my secret safe until I’ve gotten over it. Right?

I’m assuming you said yes so, because you’re the only person who knows, I will now freak out about her a bit, because it’s nice to do it someplace other than my diary.

So, when we hung out last year (yes, I’m one of those people, I know it wasn’t even a week ago, let me be), we went to Muggle London, and she held my hand. Like, I know that’s something normal best friends do, but it was still nice. Let me dream, please.

And when I gave her a necklace and she smiled at me? She’s so cute (again, don’t ever show this to anyone. I’ll say it’s forged if I have to). And did you see the dress she was wearing at the party? How am I meant to function when she shows up like that?

Also, I know it’s not like that, but I think I caught her staring at me a few times that night. Like, yes, it doesn’t really mean anything but, in my head, it does.

Okay, I don’t think I can stand telling anyone anything more than that right now, I need to process. Honestly, though, as much as people complain about having a crush on their best friend, mine is going pretty good (except for when I want to rip my hair out because I know she’ll never feel the same, but that bit can be easily ignored by this point).

Love,

Lily Evans.

Letter from Marlene to Lily:

2nd December, 1976 1977

Lily,

I love you, Lils, really, but how can you be so fucking stupid?

Okay, that came out a bit mean, but you know what I mean.

First of all, thank you for trusting me with all that, and I’m really glad you’ve finally found yourself (lesbians are the best, so glad you could join us).

Secondly, I had already started noticing that something was different with you and Mary after our talk, so this was just the confirmation I needed.

But, Lily, are you really going to take everything you just learned about yourself and repress it again, telling yourself that this little crush will pass? I’ll answer that for you, babe: you won’t. I know this because I will personally make sure that you don’t do that.

I know it may seem like everything is hopeless, and there’s no way Mary would ever like you, but I promise it’s not always like that. Mary hasn’t really said anything to me about it, but I can assure you that there’s at least a 35% chance that Mary is like that. You may think that that’s a pretty low percentage, and it sort of is, but in reality it’s much higher, I just don’t want to get your hopes up if it turns out that I was wrong (I nearly never am, but you never know).

That said, even if she doesn’t feel the same, repressing your feelings isn’t going to make them go away, Lily, and you should know that by now. Mary is your friend, and I’m sure she wouldn’t throw your entire friendship away just because you confessed your feelings for her (which is what I think you should do, by the way, but maybe you should wait a bit, just to be sure).

Life is about taking risks, as much as you hate that, but I really think that this time, it could be good. You’ve just got to try it.

Also, why is everyone but me living their gay, happy lives this year while I’m all alone? That’s homophobic (and don’t even come at me with this whole “Dorlene” business because I will end you, Lily).

Goodbye,

Marlene.

P.S: Because I love you, I’m going to give you this: “I’ll paint her [aka you, Lily] the entire galaxy up to scale with those paints if she wants me to.” Mary wrote this to me in a letter, verbatim (she’s so whipped, she just doesn’t see it yet). It’s not hopeless :)