I am Mary's pounding heart.
I am Mary's pounding heart. The cute boy with the slightly large forehead is shooting her glances.
You are cute. You are sexy. You are smart. You are nice.
Who the hell am I kidding? I look like I've been living under my bed for the past nine months. Who the hell wears sweats to a night club? Well, apparently, I do.
I am Mary's cynical depression.
He's not looking at me because my hair is up in a messy bun rat's nest thing is sexy. He's looking at it because it's the complete opposite. I look like a frumpy rag muffin who has no business being in this club right now, which is mostly correct. I don't really have any business here. I'm here because my best friend is bar tending and I have nothing better to do with my life.
"You look insane," Eric sets a water bottle down in front of me. "Stop keeping your eyes so wide. You're going to get sent to the insane asylum."
I tell him he can go fuck a dementor.
"Are you sure you don't want a Fire Whisky?"
I'm sure.
"You look like you could use one."
Go take care of your other customers and then come back, Eric.
By then I might actually need one. I count the seconds on the giant clock that looks like it belongs on a tower at Hogwarts. I look to my left. I look to my right. The cute boy is looking at me again. This time he blushes and looks away. Caught.
I look foreword again.
One, two, three, four, five. One, two, three, four, five.
Eric comes back, takes the water bottle out of my hand and puts a beer bottle in it instead. I sip it all the same. A second cute boys joins the first cute boy. I feel their gaze linger on me for a second. I could turn and catch them. But I don't.
One, two, three, four, five.
My favorite candy store in town closed down. No more late night sugar rushes and boxes of Chocolate Frogs that take me weeks and weeks to eat.
I am Mary's nostalgia.
Eric comes back again, this time with a bowl of peanuts. He points and tells me to eat. I hate peanuts, I say, he says to eat again and walks away.
The cute boy and his cute friend have walked away. I think they're dancing. I don't turn around to check.
One, two, three, four, five.
I sip the beer methodically. I push the bowl of peanuts away. Eric returns with pretzels.
"Eat," he says. I take a handful of the stale pretzels and jam them in my mouth. My roommate is having sex right now. She's having sex in our living room on our couch. I sleep on that couch. I could've stayed at home eating the last of my Chocolate Frogs from the candy store and listen to my roommate have sex or come here and watch kids my age having sex on the dance floor. I'm a creepy pervert either way.
One, two, three, four, five.
The cute boy and his cute friend are back. There's a girl with them now. I hope that she's not cute guy's girlfriend, but judging my luck she probably is. I feel their eyes on me again. This time I turn my head. Cute guy waves at me. I manage a weak smile.
Eric returns. "Another?" my bottle is suddenly empty. I shake my head. "How about a Butterbeer?" Before I have to answer he's making a glass in front of me. Cute guy has slid down the bar next to me.
He asks my name. "That's a pretty name," he says with a smile. I wince at the pain my own smile causes me. I ask him if he thinks I look insane. Cute boy shakes his head and tells me no. Eric laughs. Cute boy gives him a look. Eric sets my Butterbeer down in front of me. He tells me his name, by the way.
I know who you are, I say. You're that auror. He nods. He tells me that's his friend Sirius with his date over there.
I am Mary's sigh of relief.
He asks me out. I have nothing better to do. We make plans for tomorrow night. He'll pick me up outside here at seven. Wear nice clothes.
And this is how I (re)met James Potter.
