Seven (R.L)

52

"Sara sounds like Sar, which means flesh, like sarcoma. it's a type of muggle disease," Ana chimed in brushing a piece of hair away from her face. Not looking up from her messy notebook.

Mary shook her head at that. The close, the perfect creature of Ana, always seemed so un-natural to Mary when she spewed about her Latin.

Licking the tip of her pencil, Mary said. "I think I had a great aunt named Sara."

Remus sat up, leaving Ana's leg, but not her for long. Moving to her side, their legs laid four in a row, displaying Remus' height gain. Hips pressed together, Ana's hair finding some platform on Remus' shoulders.

"Oh, shh about her name, I want to hear how Lily thinks of it."

It was Remus's turn to force Evans to read a book of his. This time it had been a newer one, Australian binds, Picnic at Hanging Rock.

"Well, it's hard to say how I feel about it, considering I am only about thirty pages in, and the plot has barely begun." She swung her legs out of Mary's.

"But when I marry, I do hope my husband is just like Miranda." Lily stated happily, flipping over a page.

Ana looked up from her 'calculations'. Staring in between Lily and Mary, who had paused in her sketch of the whomping willow downhill.

"And... what is Miranda like?" Ana asked cautiously.

Remus who had been trying to discern the fox's awful writing, didn't catch wind of the tension. Replying easily. "She's the sweet, caring, beautiful one. Sort of motherly to Sara and the rest. Does no wrong thing going for her."

Miranda had reminded Remus of Ana a bit, in description. But he believed her more of an Irma.

"Oh." Ana said.

That was not how she'd describe Mary. Sweet, caring, stupidly beautiful, yes. But words like headstrong, creative, encompassing, charming, came to mind before the others. And not at all motherly. She was also certain Mary thought the same.

Remus nodded, leaning over her notebook, so close that Ana could smell the sandalwood scent of his shampoo on his hair. He couldn't make out the text, but a drawing seemed familiar. "Is that the sword of Gryffindor?"

Ana coughed a little, forgetting about the notes with Remus so close, usually she was the one pushing space. "Yes-"

Smiling down at the drawing. "I made Mary do it for me. She is so talented."

Remus then understood what Anastasia was trying to make sitting up to look at her a little in disbelief of the ambition. "Are you- Are you trying to recreate the power of Godric Gryffindor's sword?"

Ana paused to look at Remus eyes, laughing a little in ambition. "Yes.... I mean, I've gotten no-where with it."

She rambled on, forgetting about the growing traction between her dorm mates next to her. "If only I could get into the restricted section of the library. Ugh, I bet they have loads of wizarding Latin books and ancient charm motions. I think I could recreate it to some degree... on another object."

———

The ill-omened blighted duo of fox and wolf continued on with Ana going over all her findings and Remus listened with carefully timed questions he knew incited long responses.

Mary lay on her stomach scarily still. Her janes had begun digging into the grass squishing the clovers, fours and all. Becoming increasingly fumed.

The drawing of the willow and doodles of the 'Hanging Rock' Lily described were sure to burst into flames any second, under Mary's gaze.

Mary was a spirit. Funny and motivated by a painted mind, romantic; didn't care an ounce of others' opinions.

A half-blood raised by her Ethiopian Grandmother, a seer of a witch, a zany women who held an enormous collection of lion memorabilia- probably the most in the world.  Mary was taught to never hold herself back because of an 'institution'. Before she ever understood the institutions.

When Mary McDonald met Lily Evans, the girl knew she liked her in a different way. She wasn't as forth-coming in her feelings as, say, James, but there was no guilt to it. No questioning of morality. And if she were ever asked the state of her feelings. a lie wouldn't slip.

She liked Lily Evan.

Lily was different. She had been raised on image. Institutions flooded her household. She was taught to fear opinions of others.

And Lily was stupidly smart. She was aware of her blooded disadvantage in the world she loves- the wizarding one. Lily fought to prove herself, not to give this world another reason to look down on her. Lily became the smart- at everything- top of her class, beautiful, well-moraled.

So when, after years of ignoring Lily Evans figured out she was in love with her roommate- Mary McDonald, she did nothing.

It wasn't till summer before fourth year that Mary kissed her in the backyard of Marlene's that Lily caved.

The two had been dating in secret since.

Mary liked to talk about the future, Lily refused to. Apart of her still believed it was a phase. She was still certain she'd enter society in perfect normalcy. Marry some man, have a kid, preferably a boy.

Mary talked about wanting to tell people a month into dating. Lily was quick to shoot it down.

Mary tried to bring it up later on, "Just our friends. They won't care." Lily said no.

"Just the girls. They won't tell anyone." Lily refused it like it was the most obvious thing.

The only time they had a fight was when Emmeline Vance and Ana were openly together in at least the confides of their dorm. And they weren't even dating.

Not telling was a way of it not being real. As horrible as it was, Lily couldn't.

This off-hand comment of a future husband was delt so refreshingly.

Mary questioned her reality. Had Lily not slept in her bed every night the past year? On Valentines day did they not bathe in the prefects huge bath. In the morning, in the curtain depth corners, and unseen groves, did they not kiss? Did Mary not introduce Lily to her grandmother, letting her stay in their home no matter the embarrassment of the Lion filled shelves?

Mary wasn't oblivious to Lily's dismissal. She thought it was a wait to endure. Not forever. Lily would be ready in time.

This comment said as if her girlfriend wasn't laid next to her, legs intertwined. Mary questioned if Lily would ever be ready, ever want to introduce her as more than a friend.

She was angry. Mary was practically never able to be stunned with that emotion. She wasn't a fling, a romance Lily could think about in reminiscing her school years.

Mary packed up her things quietly. Letting the ginger read about the "caring", Miranda.

Standing up quickly and letting out her reply to Lily's words. Minutes had passed, and it came out timed awkwardly. "Well, I hope you find your Miranda, dick and all."

She stormed off.

Notes:

Adding the book I am reading atm to my writing makes me giggle. Y'all should read it, I just finished it today.

Date Posted: February 29th, 2023