Chapter 11
“I still don’t see how this is necessary.” Marlene said through a yawn, propping her elbow on the table and resting her sleepy head on her hand.
“I told you, it’s good practice for when we have to do it for real.” James explained, grinning as he ate a spoonful of scrambled eggs, blissfully oblivious to the rest of the team’s groans and fallen eyelids.
Apparently, newly appointed captain James fucking Potter decided it would be a good idea to make the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team wake up at five AM on a Saturday morning to practice. Needless to say, his teammates weren’t on the same wavelength.
They were basically the only people in the Great Hall at those hours, because who the fuck would choose to wake up early the one day it wasn’t needed? Apart from James, of course, who was truly a menace to society.
The players were no better than zombies at the moment, moving on pure instinct and reflex to fill up their plates and have breakfast. Marlene was sure that, if they had a bit more energy, they would’ve already made James thoroughly pay for it, but they could barely manage to keep their eyes open as it was.
“James, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but please go fuck yourself.” Marlene said, glaring at him. The prick didn’t even have eyebags, looking fresh as a rose in front of her.
“C’mon Marls, you and I both know you’ll be having fun in no time.” James rolled his eyes happily. How he managed to look cheerful and exasperated at once, Marlene had no idea, but that was just James.
“If I don’t fall asleep on my broom first, that is.”
“At least you’ll look hot doing it.” James joked, winking at her.
“Not in front of anyone that matters. Barely anyone is up even by the time we’ve finished, Potter, thanks to your sadistic schedule.”
“And who does matter?” James asked curiously, blatantly ignoring Marlene’s complaining.
She groaned. “Seriously?”
“Jamesly, actually.” James smiled. Oh, Marlene could just punch him right now. It would be so easy, too. She just had to stand up and lean into the table until her fist collided with James’ smug face. She was just too sleepy for it, she told herself. She would give James both her kidneys if he needed them, but mornings were sacred.
“I hate you.”
“You love me, really.”
“Right now, you’re making it very hard, Potter.” Marlene commented.
“Oh, it’s Potter now, is it?”
“Until at least nine, it is.” Marlene decreted, crossing her arms.
Obviously, Marlene understood where James was coming from, because his passion for Quidditch was quite similar to her own, fierce in their own ways, but Marlene valued her eight-to-twelve hours of sleep a day more, a concept James was apparently unfamiliar with.
She knew that James was right, though; she would be enjoying being up in the air and getting active as soon as her feet left the ground but, for now, she was content with complaining to him about everything.
***
“As you know, we’re going to be facing Slytherin in a few weeks, and it’s vital we win if we want to stand a chance to win the Cup this year.” James started once they had all gathered around him on the field. “We need to play to our strengths, as always, but we also need to find a surprise element, something they won’t see coming. A change in strategy.”
“Isn’t it a bit late for that?” A lad on the back demanded. Marlene thought it was far too early to remember anyone’s name, though, so she didn’t know who it was.
“Precisely.” James smiled widely. “Which is why it’ll work well, even if it’s not perfect. Because they won’t see it coming.” He explained, feeling proud of himself for coming up with such a plan. “You asked me why we woke up this early to practise and, while it is to get used to it for game days, it’s also because no Slytherins will be wandering about to gather intel. It’s smart, it’s strategic. It’s a game, not only up there the day we play, but all year long.”
Marlene was feeling much more alert now, her entire body filled with adrenaline flowing through it. She loved Quidditch. Even if James’ speeches made her cringes sometimes, they also inspired her, though she’d never admit that to him.
Ater James finished his pep-talk, the players went up in the air, mounting their brooms in the morning mist. Marlene felt little droplets of water settle on her face, absorbing any sleepness left in her.
She went to her position, taking a spot in the middle of the pitch, a bit to the left. Her hair was up in a ponytail, her bangs parting with the wind blowing on her face. She rested her bat on her shoulder, fingers flexing around the mast, ready to start once the captain blew the whistle.
They were divided into two teams, with James and Marlene on the same one. Honestly, she thought James was doing it on purpose by now, because not once had they been on opposing sides. Not that Marlene was complaining though, everyone knew James was brutal when playing, and it was better to have him with you rather than against.
“Alright, is everyone ready and in their places?” James shouted, leaning back relaxedly on his broom. Marlene thought that, if she cared for those kinds of things (boys, basically), maybe she’d have a crush on James. That idea almost made her laugh out loud, but she refrained from doing so, nodding instead at James’ question and keeping her gaze on the bludgers, which were still tied down, buzzing in anticipation.
Marlene exhaled, barely noticing the vapour coming out of her mouth as she did, and then James blew the whistle, waving his wand to release all the balls.
After that, it was all a haze of flying spheres, shouts, and sweat. Even though it was only practice, all the players were giving it their all, bringing their brooms to their maximum power, eyes straining to follow the balls flying all around the pitch.
Somewhere along the way, Marlene and the other beater in her team formed a strategy, not needing to exchange anything other than glances to understand each other, and the bludgers hadn’t even gone near their teammates ever since.
Marlene was feeling good up in the air, appreciating the freedom of it all, exercising her muscles as the sun, slowly but surely, started climbing up in the sky, warming them up.
After an hour and a half, which was the usual length of their sessions, Marlene’s team had absolutely demolished the other one. In their defence, their keeper was the seeker, who didn’t get to practise with the snitch every day at training, so they stayed by the goalposts, given that there was only one keeper in each house team.
Still, Marlene was proud of their victory. She’d played well. It wasn’t her ego speaking either, it was just a fact. She was put on the team for a reason, and she proved it every time.
***
After showering and changing clothes, trying her best not to wake Mary and Lily up, Marlene went down to the common room, bringing her homework with her. She would probably not end up doing it, but just having it beside her made her feel a bit accomplished. At least she’d had the idea of doing the work, even if she ended up taking it back to her dorm hours later, untouched.
“Oh! Hey, Marls.” Peter greeted, waving at her from the sofa as she approached him. He had a sudoku book in his lap, alternating between writing a number on the open page and biting the end of his pencil as he thought.
“How do you always manage to be even more boring than I remember?” Marlene joked, sitting next to him.
“Please, your entire personality is playing Quidditch and denying your love for Dorcas Meadowes, don’t even start with me.” Peter scoffed, rolling his eyes.
Marlene opened her mouth, closing it almost immediately when she realised she was going to deny her love for Dorcas, which was exactly Peter’s point.
“Shut up, Pettigrew.” She settled for saying, elbowing him as she lay her homework on the table in front of them.
They stayed in comfortable silence for a while, with Marlene occasionally pointing at one square to tell Peter which number could go in it, and him swatting her hand away, muttering about his own abilities and self-sufficiency as Marlene snickered.
Just as Marlene was about to do just that again, Peter grabbed her wrist.
“Marlene, if you don’t stop this right now, I’m literally going to cut off your finger.” He warned, glaring at her.
“Not if I cut yours off first.”
“No!” Peter exclaimed, dropping Marlene’s wrist to hold his right index. “My precious finger, stay away from it.” Peter said dramatically. “I would never do that to you, little guy.” He said softly, pretending to talk to his pointer.
“You’re weird.” Marlene said, shaking her head at him as he returned to his sudoku.
“You’re weirder.”
“Am not.”
“I’m not doing this with you, McKinnon, we’re not twelve anymore.” Peter sighed.
“Oh, you think you’re so mature, don’t you? I’ll have you know you were still doing that last year, when you weren’t twelve, you idiot.”
“Shut up.” Peter replied. “Or I’m gonna hex your finger off your hand.”
“I’d like to see you try.” Marlene rolled her eyes, not believing him for even a second.
Luckily, Marlene’s Quidditch reflexes allowed her to cast a repelling charm on herself when Peter raised his wand and murmured a spell.
She couldn’t help but laugh at Peter’s face the moment he realised the spell had ricocheted onto his own hand, making his finger flop down, as if the bones had suddenly disappeared out of it. To be fair, that was probably what had happened. Really, Marlene rationalised, it was all Peter’s fault.
The boy in question opened his mouth, eyebrows furrowed, before closing it again, a thoughtful expression on his face.
“Okay, you know what? That’s fair.” He shrugged, looking down at his finger with a pout.
“Wait, really?” Marlene said, surprised Peter wasn’t screaming at her. In truth, she’d never made Peter actually angry, but she supposed it was just because she didn’t give him a reason to, not because he was just… not an angry person. “You’re not mad?”
“It was my spell. Why would I be?” Peter blinked. Was he actually confused? “It would be terribly hypocritical of me to get mad because of something I was going to do to you, wouldn’t it?”
“I suppose.” Marlene agreed, frowning. “Okay, then. Do you want me to fix your finger or what?”
“Actually, I’m growing fond of it. Wait til Sirius sees, he’s gonna freak!”
***
Sirius did, in fact, freak upon seeing Peter’s barely there finger, squealing and running backwards until he hit a wall in the common room before making his way back to Peter again, begging him to let him touch it.
“Don’t you need to go to the infirmary to get it fixed?” Lily asked, eyeing the digit suspiciously.
“Nah.” Peter waved his hand dismissively, making his finger flop down, to which both Marlene and Mary made a noise of disgust. “What? If anyone annoys me, I can just tell Madame Pomfrey they were the one who did it and get my vengeance.” He shrugged. “That’s looking at you, Black.” He added.
“How did this happen to you, really?” James wondered, glaring warily at the hand.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Peter grinned, and Marlene rolled her eyes.
“I actually would, too.” Mary said, looking more amused than anything.
“Ask me no questions and I shall tell you no lies.” Peter replied enigmatically, looking way too pleased by himself. Marlene actually considered saying that it had actually been her just to wipe that smug smirk off his face, and she thought that as one of his best friends.
They were all gathered around the sofa, where everyone had settled into as they started going down at more reasonable hours for a weekend. When everyone had had breakfast, they sat down with Marlene and Peter, and whoever had already arrived, and just stayed there working, reading, or staring into the distance in deep thought (at least that was what Sirius had said when Marlene asked him what he was doing, but she wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not).
Eventually, everyone was together, and Peter chose that exact moment to show his hand, previously hidden inside his pocket because, as he had told Marlene, he wanted a collective surprise, and didn’t want to do all the dramatics more than once.
Well, it worked out quite well for him. Everyone had gotten surprised, disgusted, curious, or a mixture of the three, and he had no desire to gain back his bones.
***
A few days and a potion for regrowing bones later, Marlene found herself making her way to the potions classroom, ready to check on her and Dorcas’ potion and add the necessary ingredients.
In theory, Dorcas had come to check it on Tuesday, so everything should be in place, but Marlene couldn’t be too sure they wouldn’t sabotage the potion and somehow place all the blame on Marlene to spite her.
As she got closer, Marlene noticed the classroom’s door was open and, as she glanced inside from where she was, she saw Dorcas, in muggle clothes, quietly humming to herself as they stirred the draught.
Marlene stared at them. Why would Dorcas be there, when they had agreed this was Marlene’s day to check on the potion? And why did she look like that? It was honestly unfair, Marlene thought, looking at their loose jeans and cropped purple jumper.
Dorcas’ locs were tied back in a low ponytail, her edges laid and framing their face, and… was that lipgloss? Marlene couldn’t be sure, so she got a bit closer and-
Suddenly, she felt her face collide with the rock wall next to the classroom’s door, hard. She groaned in pain, holding her hand to her forehead, which had been the most affected part.
She was sure she’d have a headache soon, but at least her bangs could hide the lump that was sure to grow where she’d hit her head.
She licked her lips, and the iron taste let her know she was bleeding.
“Fuck!” She muttered, wiping it away with her sleeve. She looked at the door again, mortified as she saw Dorcas staring at her, confused.
“What the-” Dorcas started, taking in the scene in front of them. Marlene was sure she wasn’t looking quite as graceful as they were at the moment, but Dorcas could at least be a bit nice about it.
Marlene decided she wouldn’t let embarrassment consume her, instead holding her head high and glaring at Dorcas with all her remaining dignity (which wasn’t much, but she made do with what she had).
“What do you think you’re doing, Meadowes?” She questioned sharply. “We agreed you would take Tuesdays and I Fridays.”
“Well, you didn’t seem to be showing up.” Dorcas shrugged, looking down at Marlene’s bloody lip. “Plus, I’m not sure you’re capable of taking care of our potion after all, seeing your current state. You’re not even able to take care of yourself.” They added, looking Marlene up and down with superiority. Marlene wanted to punch her.
“I literally just finished classes and, if you hadn’t been doing someone else’s work, then none of this would have happened.” Marlene started to defend herself, gesturing to her swollen face.
“Oh, so now it’s my fault, is it?” Dorcas challenged, raising an eyebrow.
“Actually, yes.” Marlene confirmed, crossing her arms.
“You do realise that you’re admitting you ran head-first into a wall because I was here, right? Are you sure you’re not actually in love with me, McKinnon?” Dorcas teased, a smirk growing on their face.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Meadowes.” Marlene rolled her eyes, subconsciously fixing her fringe.
“I am simply stating facts and coming to the most logical assumption.” Dorcas said smugly. Marlene wanted to absolutely ruin her.
“I wouldn’t expect you to know a thing about logic, actually, so forgive me for being a bit sceptical.” Marlene scoffed.
She looked at the cauldron. To their credit, Dorcas hadn’t stopped stirring in all that time, meaning the draught hadn’t been compromised, but still. Marlene hated them. She hated her so much.
“Well, there’s really no need for you to be here, so why don’t you get going?” Said Dorcas.
“I don’t think I will, actually.” Marlene smiled tightly. “You’re not the most trustworthy person, so I think I’m going to stay here until it’s done.”
“Until I’m done, since I’m the only one doing the work.” Dorcas corrected, never losing count of her stirs, going counterclockwise.
“And whose fault is that?” Marlene challenged, already so done with them.
Dorcas stayed silent, finishing the set and removing the ladle, moving away from Marlene to grab the ingredients they had to add.
Marlene followed them, practically fuming. She wasn’t going to let Dorcas undermine her like that.
“I’ll take it from here.” Marlene said forcefully, reaching out to take the jar Dorcas had in their hands, but they didn’t budge.
“You’re literally bleeding, Marlene, I highly doubt you can take anything right now. If anything, your blood is going to make the potion explode.” Dorcas said. Dorcas called her Marlene again. Not in a mocking way, or to make a point, simply to call her something. It probably shouldn’t affect Marlene as much as it was but, as she told herself, she was just surprised. That was all there was.
Marlene, once again, wiped her bottom lip with her sleeve. Thankfully, she hadn’t had time to change, so the dark robes camouflaged most of the blood. “There. No more risk of explosion, now let me do my job.”
“That’s gonna get infected.” Dorcas observed, hugging the jar to herself to stop Marlene from taking it.
“No, it won’t.” Marlene countered. It probably would if she didn’t treat it soon, but she wouldn’t give Dorcas the satisfaction.
“Yes, it will.”
“I’m going to do this whether you like it or not, Meadowes. You either go with it or you get the fuck out of here.” Marlene declared. Dorcas opened their mouth to retort, but eventually just sighed and shrugged.
“Fine.” They said. “Let me look at it.”
Marlene blinked, confused, until Dorcas took matters into her own hands, literally, taking Marlene’s face to study her lip. Marlene felt her stomach swoop. A reflexive reaction, she told herself, due to their closeness. It would have happened with anyone, it just so happened to be Dorcas.
“Alright, I’ll clean it up and then you can continue with the potion.” Dorcas stated. “If I can guarantee you don’t have a concussion.”
“Fine by me, ‘cause I don’t.” Marlene assured them, crossing her arms just to have something to do with them. Their faces were centimetres apart and, if it had been any other person, Marlene would be seconds away from leaning in and kissing them, but it was Dorcas.
Dorcas finally let go of her face, leaving it cold, and turned their back to her, taking a few steps before tilting her head to look at Marlene. “You coming, or what?” They asked, exasperated. Marlene wasn’t aware that was what she was meant to be doing, but quickly followed Dorcas to a table.
There, they took a bowl, murmuring “aguamenti” to fill it with water, then taking a cloth (Merlin knew where she’d gotten it), dipping it in and taking Marlene’s chin with one hand, wiping her lip with the other.
They were doing it so delicately, Marlene had a hard time believing this was the same person she’d been talking to just minutes before.
In fact, she was going to make a snarky remark about that, opening her mouth to talk, when Dorcas tutted.
“Stay still, would you?” They said, just a bit annoyed. It sounded more like she cared. Marlene was probably imagining things. Maybe she did have a concussion, after all.
Regardless, she obeyed, keeping her mouth shut until Dorcas thought it was clean enough to get near their draught again.
“Lumos” Dorcas whispered, their wand immediately lighting up before she put it right in front of Marlene’s eyes, just a few centimetres away from her eyeballs, making her wince.
“What the fuck?!” Marlene exclaimed, moving her hand to try and swat the wand away, but Dorcas wasn’t having it.
“I told you, I’m making sure you aren’t concussed.” They rolled her eyes, putting the lit wand back on Marlene’s face and moving it. Onto one eye, opening it widely with their fingers; onto the other, following the same steps. Making Marlene follow the tip with her eyes.
Eventually, Dorcas thought Marlene was fine, apparently, because she let her go.
“Okay, it doesn’t look like you’re going to die, unfortunately.” They declared, though with no real bite to their words. “I’ll leave, but if I find out you messed with this potion in any way, McKinnon…” They didn’t finish, but she hardly needed to. The threat was received, loud and clear. But it wasn’t as though Marlene wanted to ruin a potion that would no doubt influence her grades, so she really had nothing to worry about.
“Don’t run into any more walls as you watch me leave, Marlene.” Dorcas said once they were at the doorway, turning her head to wink at Marlene and walking away as Marlene rolled her eyes.
***
“Hey, that’s cheating!” Sirius complained, ponting accusedly at Remus.
“Damn, and so early into your relationship, too, Lupin, have you no shame?” Mary laughed, forming another snowball with her shivering hands and throwing it directly to Peter, who managed to dodge it at the last second.
It had been a stroke of brilliance from James and Marlene’s part. After witnessing, through the common room windows, what would possibly be the last snow of the season, they convinced all their friends to have an “epic snowball fight” (their words, not Mary’s).
Mary, Marlene, James, and Sirius made up one of the teams, with Lily, Peter, and Remus on the other. Even with one less team member, Mary had to admit that the others were doing quite well, but she still had faith that she’d win.
After another ball passed dangerously close to her face, Mary hid behind the snow wall they’d built to avoid getting hit, occupying her time with making more ammunition for her and her teammates.
She could hear shouts in the background, and the thudding noise of snowballs hitting the ground or the opponent’s defence wall.
The rules were clear: if you got hit seven times, you were out (except for one player on the team of 3, who could get hit double the amount of times, just to make it fair). Lily was the one keeping score, because she was the one everyone trusted the most not to lie, and she had reserved a spot on her wall to write everything down, placing a charm on it so no one else could alter it. She was brilliant, Mary thought.
“Oi, MacDonald, stop being a coward and go out into the battlefield.” Marlene urged her, hurriedly pressing her back against the wall to protect herself. Obviously, the rules also stated that there could only be one player behind the wall, with an interval of ten seconds so the changes could be done smoothly.
Begrudgingly, Mary went out into the open again, a snowball, courtesy of one Lily Evans, immediately colliding with her thigh as she emerged.
“Oh, it is on.” Mary grinned, filling her arms with balls and throwing them at the redhead, getting closer with every throw.
Unfortunately for Mary, Lily had surprisingly good reflexes, and she dodged every single snowball aimed at her, which was honestly irritating Mary a bit.
Just as she was about to throw her last ball, Lily tackled her, holding Mary’s wrist firmly as they both fell to the ground.
Mary’s head hit the snow-covered ground, which helped soften the fall, and she and Lily both were breathing heavily, staring at each other.
Mary’s chest was heaving, and her position wasn’t the most comfortable, but she was too entranced by Lily’s bright green eyes to care about any of that at all.
Lily’s eyes, and her freckle-covered face, and her pink, plump lips, and the dimple on her left cheek, which could only be seen when she was smiling really hard. Every time she saw it, Mary smiled too.
Mary’s skin tickled and burned where Lily’s fingers were still holding on to her hand, preventing her from throwing the snowball, which honestly wasn’t on the very top of Mary’s list of priorities at the moment.
Lily’s other hand was holding her own weight, so she also couldn’t do anything. Mary supposed the others could help out, but they were probably all too busy fighting their own battles to even notice the pair.
Mary’s gaze went from Lily’s grip on her wrist to her eyes. Apparently, Lily had already been staring at her, and so brown and green crashed again, like autumn and spring.
Mary’s breath hitched, and the world around her went fuzzy. It was only Lily, standing on top of her, looking into her eyes fiercely. They say the eyes are like windows to the soul, and it definitely felt like Lily could see Mary’s soul just by looking at her.
Mary felt Lily moving slightly, changing her position a bit, but her eyes never wavered from the girl’s face. It wasn’t until she felt her own vision go white, cold seeping into her face, that she realised Lily had shifted her weight from her arm to her knees, using her free hand to gather snow and throw it at Mary while she had been distracted by Lily. Even as she cursed several times, standing up hastily and running backwards to her base, she thought Lily had been so clever. She always was.
Sirius was the first to go down, followed by Marlene and Peter, who had just thrown snowballs at each other calmly until they both reached the limit, proud to admit it was the other one who had beaten them. Honestly, Mary couldn’t even be mad. She’d witnessed it from the safety of the wall, and she’d been more amused than anything. They even did a countdown to throw the last snowball, ensuring they would both go down at the same time.
“You get Lily, and I’ll take Remus.” Mary whispered to James. They had agreed to take a two-minute, Lily-approved break to talk strategy, given that they were three players short.
“Really?” James questioned, confused. “I thought you’d want to take Lily down yourself, but it’s fine by me.” He shrugged, making snowballs almost frantically as he talked.
Normally, Mary would prefer to face Lily, but she really wanted to win, and it had just been proven that Lily could jeopardise her chances, for some reason unknown to Mary. She didn’t want to risk it.
“Alright, we get them as far away from each other so they won’t be able to go two against one if one of us is out first.” Mary said, whispering to not be overheard.
James nodded, straightening his glasses. They didn’t have time to talk more, because Lily soon informed them that the two minutes were up, and the battle started up again.
Apparently, Lily and Remus had had the same idea as them, which became clear when Remus started chasing after Mary, leading her away from their other friends.
Mary only had two hits left, whereas Remus, who had taken the extra points, still had six. The odds weren’t really in her favour but, hopefully, James would finish with Lily quickly and help her with Remus, even if he’d have to run a handful of metres to get to where they were.
The first hit was right on her stomach, making her wince as she covered it with her hands, but she’d had time to accurately throw two snowballs at Remus, so it hadn’t been entirely pointless. Four and one. At least she could make it easier for James when he faced Remus.
Thinking about him made her wonder how she was doing, wasting precious seconds to look into the distance, though she couldn’t make out much. It looked like they were both still standing, so they hadn’t lost yet. Nor would they ever, Mary reminded herself, still holding out hope.
Those moments of distraction cost her, and suddenly Remus was very close to Mary, who was completely unarmed while he, on the other hand, had a frankly gigantic snowball inbetween his fingers.
“Any last words, MacDonald?” He smirked, already tasting victory, Mary was sure.
A lightbulb went on in her mind, and she put her hands behind her back, hidden from Remus’ gaze.
“Yeah,” she replied after a moment, revealing a ball made of all the snow accumulated on her back from when she’d fallen down with Lily. “Eat this!” She shouted, throwing it at Remus’ leg.
The shot landed perfectly and, taking advantage of his confusion, Mary crouched to make some more snowballs, directing them at the boy before he could even properly react to the first one.
Not all of them hit the blank, but enough to make Remus sigh and hold his hands up.
“Alright, alright.” He said. “You win, Mary.”
Mary whooped, punching the air before remembering she still had to worry about James and Lily.
She quickly went over to where they last were, her smile deflating when she saw James walking to all those that had already been disqualified.
“Are you kidding me, James?” Mary complained, throwing her arms out, exasperated.
“Sorry.” James smiled apologetically, shrugging. So much for not having to confront Lily herself.
“Okay, time-out.” Lily declared, doing the according gesture with her hands. “How many lives have you got?” She questioned.
One, Mary thought. “Two,” Mary said. How would she ever know?
“Remus?” Lily asked, waiting for him to corroborate. Oh, so that was how. Mary should’ve thought about that.
“One.” Remus grinned, looking smugly at Mary, who stuck her tongue out at him.
“Mary!” Lily exclaimed, shaking her head disapprovingly.
“Lily, you’ve known me for six years now, don’t act so surprised.” Mary rolled her eyes, amused. It was true; Mary had a reputation of not being the most trustworthy when it came to playing games. “How many have you got, anyway?”
“Two.” Lily smiled. Mary thought Lily would never be one to lie about that kind of stuff, but she looked at James for reassurance. He nodded, and Mary could already sense this wasn’t going to end well.
“Start on the count of three?” Mary suggested, commencing the countdown after Lily agreed.
There were no snowballs lying around, so they had to make their own again. Mary had two at the moment, and wasted them both on Lily, who somehow managed to dodge them without pausing her work, which was honestly quite impressive.
Mary built yet another ball, getting a bit closer to Lily to throw it better, but Lily was already waiting for her, two balls in each hand.
They released them at the same time, one from Mary and two from Lily. Mary’s hit Lily’s arm, making her drop the two remaining balls, but Mary’s joy was short-lived when one of Lily’s snowballs collided with her chest, the other one missing the mark by a few centimetres.
“Damn it.” Mary muttered, dusting the snow from her winter coat.
At the same time, Lily laughed and screamed and whooped, hugging Remus and Peter effusively, and Mary couldn’t even find it in her to be mad about losing when it made Lily that happy.
***
“Oh, by the way,” Lily whispered in her ear on the way back to the castle, “we were gonna win anyways, but I totally cheated when I thought we weren’t.” She confessed.
Mary’s eyebrows shot up, because that was honestly not what she expected from Lily at all. “Why are you telling me this?” She wondered.
Surely, she could demand the win if Lily had tampered with the score, so why would she willingly tell Mary? Yes, it was just a game, and it wasn’t that serious, but if someone was more competitive than Mary (and, sometimes, Marlene), then it was Lily. Mary supposed that came with Lily’s need to be the best at everything, the standard she’d held herself to from a very young age. Mary wished she could just make Lily forget all about it and see that she was already more than enough. She didn’t need to prove herself, she just needed to be the best at being Lily Evans, and Mary thought she was nailing that.
“Because, even if you told someone, they wouldn’t believe you.” Lily smirked. Mary’s cheeks heated up as she did, probably from the change of temperature inside the castle, she told herself.
***
Throughout the next few days, the snow turned dirty and brown, until it finally melted away, taking all evidence of their snowfight with it.
As winter progressed, Mary spent her evenings filling her sketchbook (a Christmas gift from Remus) with several drawings and paintings. She took inspiration from the scenery outside, cold and grey, or the castle’s rooms and halls, filled to the brim with people most of the time.
Of course, she’d also used up quite a few pages by plastering portraits of her friends in there. So far, she had a few rough sketches of Sirius and Remus being “cute together”, as she put it; along with many depictions of her mates in little sub-groups (James and Marlene playing Quidditch, Peter begging Lily and Remus to play chess with him, Marlene and Lily in their care of magical creatures class, Lily on her birthday wearing the tiara…). It appeared that Lily was in most of them, but Mary supposed that was just because they were best friends, meaning they spent a lot of time together. They lived in a boarding school, shared a dorm and a group of friends, it was to be expected, right? Marlene wasn’t in as many because she was always practising for Quidditch, Mary argued.
Whatever it was, that Tuesday had found Mary adding orange watercolour to her drawing’s hair, which showed Lily sitting in her usual spot on the common room sofa, reading a book with her legs folded in front of her, her back on the armrest rather than on the much softer backrest.
The hand that wasn’t holding the book was never still, which made it harder for Mary to draw. Lily’s thumb touched her index, middle, ring, and little finger, reverting its journey from the pinkie and back to the pointer. Then, she started over again, always the same pattern. One, two, three, four. Four, three, two, one. And again.
Mary found Lily utterly and infinitely fascinating. How did her mind work? Honestly, Mary had no clue at all, but that only made her more curious. She always asked Lily questions, waiting for her to either answer or dodge the question. Mary found it easy to tell the difference now, after so many years, and she could pinpoint exactly when Lily truly didn’t hear the question, or when she just didn’t want to answer. It was all fine to Mary, though; she’d take whatever Lily wanted to give her, which was more than enough.
Maybe one day, Mary would finally know everything there was to know about Lily Evans, and she, in turn, would also know all about Mary. Mary would be happy about it either way, even if she never got to find out something about her friend. Some things were reserved for only oneself, and no one else, and Mary respected that.
“Lily?” Mary called her softly, her brush going over Lily’s skirt on the page.
“Mhm?” Lily asked, her finger pointing at the sentence she was at as she looked up at Mary.
“Whatcha reading?” She asked, internally wondering which shade in her watercolour palette would come closer to the pink shade of Lily’s lips. None, she determined, would ever come close to the real thing. Such a shame, but at least Mary had the pleasure of seeing them in real time, and seeing them move as she answered.
“Wuthering Heights.” Lily said, lifting the book up so Mary could read the title.
“D’you like it?”
“I just started it.” Lily replied, tucking her hair behind her ear.
“I know.” Mary shrugged, her eyes going over every millimetre of Lily’s face. Just so her drawing could be more accurate, she told herself. “So, do you like it?” She asked again, because she knew Lily already had an opinion on everything the second she set her eyes on it, even if it was subject to change.
“Yeah.” Lily smiled softly, and Mary smiled, too, instinctively. “It’s funny in that old-timey kind of way.” She explained, returning her attention to the page. Her green eyes moved to the words, and Mary thought she would never be able to portray their shade of green, either. The way it changed with the light, and the background, and the clothes Lily wore, and the eyes of the beholder. Everchanging, just like the girl those eyes belonged to.
“Cool.” Mary said, distracted. She wanted her drawing to be just right, which meant she had to really take in Lily’s entire being, for artistic accuracy.
“What are you doing?” Lily asked her, still reading. Her fingers had gone back to their previous routine, and Mary watched them. She thought she’d never get tired of looking at Lily.
“Painting.” She smiled, adding an unnecessary stroke to the paper so as to prove her point.
“What are you painting?”
Mary hesitated, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden. “You.” She finally said, unable to look away when Lily’s cheeks turned a wonderful crimson colour. Yet another thing paint could never imitate, Mary thought, but she knew she would try anyway, because Lily’s beauty was its own genre of art.
“Is it any good?” Lily wondered after a while, her eyes fixated on the same spot in the book as they had been ever since Mary told her that she was painting her.
“Well, it’s not finished yet, but…” Mary started, frowning at her drawing. Maybe Lily wouldn’t like it. Mary desperately wanted her to. “What do you think?” She asked, holding out her sketchbook. She hadn’t even finished adding the colour, and it was going to be mediocre at best, Mary thought, but Lily had asked, and how could Mary ever deny her anything?
“Wow.” Lily exhaled, breathless. “It’s really good.” She said, composing herself. She sounded sincere, but Mary couldn’t be sure.
“Really?” She asked for confirmation, and Lily nodded avidly.
“I promise.” Lily assured her, her eyes crinkling as she smiled.
“Well, that’s all thanks to my model.” Mary winked, gesturing at Lily. “I merely translated that into the paper.”
“Shut up.” Lily said, hiding a smile behind her book. Even her ears had turned red by then, and Mary couldn’t control the grin that spread across her face at the sight. She just loved seeing her best friend happy, that was it.
“Oi, having fun without me?” Marlene shouted at them as she appeared through the portrait door, closing it behind her.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Mary joked as Marlene looked at her painting from behind the armchair Mary was sitting in.
“Mhm.” Marlene hummed, and Mary wasn’t sure what she was thinking, but it certainly couldn’t be good, coming from Marlene. “It looks like you’ve found your muse, Mary.”
Mary rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help but think that maybe Marlene was right, after all. At least to an extent. If anyone had to be her muse, she was glad it was Lily. She was gorgeous.
Marlene whispered something in Lily’s ear, and the girl shook her head, looking embarrassed but pleased. Mary wished she knew what Marlene had told her.
“Hey!” Mary complained. “Secretitos en reunión son de mala educación.” She said, playfully glaring at them both.
“What did she say?” Marlene asked Lily, who shrugged, as confused as the other was.
“Stop telling each other secrets.” Mary demanded, crossing her arms.
“Stop saying stuff we can’t understand in Spanish and maybe we will.” Marlene challenged.
“Nunca.” Mary replied, smirking at their exasperated faces.
She added the finishing touches to her painting. It looked okay, she thought, but it didn’t hold a candle to the real thing.
Mary understood, in that moment, what everyone said Da Vinci had felt while painting the Mona Lisa, trying to get her smile quite right, just to fail time and time again. Maybe one day, like the painter, Mary too could portray Lily to her full radiance.