Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
"Who did this to you, Mary?" Madam Pomfrey's voice is kind but firm.
Mary hesitates. She knows exactly who cursed her, who cast the spell that shattered her ankle and led to her falling down half a flight of stairs.
She also knows that telling Madam Pomfrey about Mulciber would be disastrous. He's had it out for her ever since first year, and although she wouldn't be surprised if Mulciber is first on the suspect list, she won't be the one to confirm their suspicions. Every time she's told on him for something, he retaliates with something even worse, leaving no evidence behind. He's sadistic and cruel, but he's also smart.
"Mary," Madam Pomfrey continues, "this is Dark Magic, not a prank. Whoever did this to you can be expelled, and they won't hurt you anymore."
As if. Most likely, if Mulciber was expelled, he would show up at Hogsmeade and do something to her there. She doesn't want to be responsible for getting him expelled from Hogwarts; his revenge would probably be unlike anything he's ever done to her before. "I don't know who cursed me," Mary says. "I swear. It was from behind."
Finally, Madam Pomfrey leaves her alone to rest, and Mary breathes a sigh of relief.
o0o0o
Getting up to Gryffindor Tower sucks.
Madam Pomfrey healed Mary's ankle as best she could, but Dark Magic leaves its traces, and three weeks after Mulciber's sadistic 'prank', Mary still walks with a limp. Madam Pomfrey assured Mary that she could walk normally and put weight on it, that she wouldn't damage it by going about her daily activities, but it still throbs every time she takes a step. Going up to Gryffindor Tower - seven stories up from the ground floor - is the worst.
She's slowly making her way up the sixth flight of stairs when Reginald Cattermole - one year above her - stops next to her. She pauses as well, putting as much weight as she can on her good ankle as she rests against the banister.
"You need some help with that?" he asks, nodding to her heavy book bag. She's taken to carrying around every book she needs for classes so that she doesn't have to go up to the Tower more times than necessary. As a result, her bag is probably close to thirty pounds; she's already had to repair the bottom of it twice.
"No, it's okay. I'm used to it. Thanks, though."
He folds his arms. "I'm pretty sure that bag weighs more than you do. We're both headed up to the Tower, and I'm not carrying anything. Let me take it for you, MacDonald."
She relents and hands over the bag. She half-expects him just to head up the stairs and into the Tower, leaving her bag in the common room, but instead he keeps pace with her. "I know that it was Mulciber who cursed you," he says.
Mary closes her eyes for a second. She really doesn't want to have this conversation. "It doesn't matter," she says.
"It doesn't matter?" Reginald sounds outraged. "He's been torturing you for years. How many times has he put you in the Hospital Wing?"
Mary has honestly lost track. He's been disciplined for his actions a couple of times, especially back in first and second year when Mary would tell on him, but that never stopped him. She hasn't bothered to report him since third year, knowing that getting detention would only make him angrier. He gives her more of a respite when she doesn't tell. "I only have a year and a half left here," she says instead. "Once I finish Hogwarts, he won't bother me anymore. I can deal with him until then."
Reginald shifts Mary's book bag to his other shoulder. "You shouldn't put up with this."
They move to the seventh and final flight of stairs, and Mary leans on the banister as she slowly walks up. "Easy for you to say," she says. "You don't know what he's capable of. You don't know him."
They reach Gryffindor Tower, and Mary takes her bag back as they step through the portrait hole. "Thanks," she says, a little tightly, and she heads up to her dormitory.
On the top stair, she looks back; Reginald is still standing there in the common room, and he gives her a small wave before he moves out of view.
o0o0o
Mary stifles a yawn as she comes back into the common room after Astronomy. Damn late-night classes. She enjoys Astronomy, but the whole class-at-midnight thing is no longer as exciting as it was back in first year. She can't bring herself to drop the class, though; it's the one class that reminds her of her Muggle roots. Astronomy is something that any person can enjoy, magical or Muggle, and it holds somewhat of a sentimental value at this point.
The common room isn't deserted yet, since it's only a little past one. Three students are huddled in the corner reviewing homework, and another one is curled up in one of the armchairs, reading a large book.
And Reginald Cattermole is sitting at one of the desks.
He looks up and waves at her; she blinks, and heads over to his table. "Are you waiting for me?" She wants the words to come out sharp, a hurled demand for answers, but it comes out almost hopeful. Damn it. It's not like she wants him to wait for her and pay attention to her...right?
Maybe she enjoyed his company just a bit more than she'll admit. That's not a crime.
He shakes his head. "Trying to study. You being here is just a pleasant surprise."
Pleasant. She fights back a smile, dropping her bag onto the desk and sitting across from him. "What're you studying?"
"Charms," he says. "My best subject. Trying to keep up my average. I really want to get an O in my NEWT."
"I bet you will," Mary says, and he smiles at her.
They stay down in the common room until it's past two am and they can't fight the call of sleep any longer.
o0o0o
The next night, Reginald is studying late in the common room again, and Mary slides into the seat across from him, spreading her own books and parchment across half of the table.
He looks up, quirking an eyebrow. "Oi. You really need all of that at once?"
Mary blushes. "I have an essay due tomorrow that I only half-finished."
Reginald chuckles. "Been there. You need some help?"
"You good at Transfiguration?"
"Passable, yeah." Reginald gets up and moves into the seat next to her, examining what she has written so far. She can't help but notice the closeness - the table has two seats a side, but it's not an extremely large table.
She finds that she doesn't mind.
o0o0o
That table in the Gryffindor common room is now theirs.
They've been studying there - and sometimes just sitting there, talking - for the past few months. Mary is completely unsurprised when she comes down to the common room on the last day of sixth year, and Reg is sitting at that table, his feet propped up on its clean surface. They have nothing to study now; Reg has taken his NEWTs, and Mary's taken her end-of-year exams. In less than twelve hours, they would be boarding the Hogwarts Express and going home for the summer holidays.
"Can't sleep?" Reg asks as Mary sits down across from him.
She nods. "I never sleep well on the last day. It just always feels so weird, knowing that I won't see this place for another three months."
"Try knowing you'll never see this place again," Reg says. "Merlin, it's hard to believe that I'm done."
"Yeah," Mary says. "It'll feel weird, not seeing you around." She traced a knot in the table with her finger. Reg was one of the only friends she truly had at Hogwarts; without him, she knew she would feel lonely, empty. Mulciber's torments had left her a quiet girl who didn't make friends easily. Reg was the only exception, for the most part.
"You know," Reg says after a moment, "since I'm leaving Hogwarts, I could hex Mulciber for you. I mean, I'm leaving anyway, so it's not like I can get expelled or anything, and he doesn't know where I live."
Mary sits there for a moment, her mouth falling open a little. Nobody's ever offered something like that before. Nobody's ever cared, really. It's such a chivalrous, brave, Gryffindor thing to do, and Mary can't help but appreciate the sentiment even though she knows Reg would never beat Mulciber in a duel. "That's really sweet," she says.
Reg blushes, and the color stands out sharply against his skin. "I'm sweet?"
"Yeah," Mary says daringly, because he's leaving tomorrow and never coming back, and what does she have to lose? "I'm gonna miss you."
A shy smile grows on his face, he swings his feet off the table - and at the same time, Mary and Reg both lean forward across the table and kiss. It's a little awkward, a little shy - but also a little bit perfect.
Written for the Hunger Games Competition on HPFC, using the emotion, dialogue, character, genre, and subject prompts.
Author's Note: I don't usually write Marauders Era, but when I saw the character prompt and sat down to write, I knew I wanted to go with MaryReg. This is based on the headcanon that Mary MacDonald and Mary Cattermole are the same person, a headcanon which I agree with.