September 1st, 1976: Mary Macdonald
Mary steps onto the platform with two trunks in hand and a mission in mind—at least, she has a mission in mind until her thoughts are diverted when one of her trunks drops on her foot. One of her very heavy trunks, might she add.
Yelping, she yanks herself out from under the trunk and hobbles around for a minute with her knee drawn up to her chest, howling like a loon and attracting appropriate stares from passersby (only the nearby McKinnon family gives her friendly looks, though she notices that Marlene isn't with them). Great, what a perfect way to start off the new school year—once again, she's managed to stand out as the class idiot before even stepping foot on the train.
Let her say now that, whatever else you hear, Mary is not a bumbling, shallow busybody. All right, she supposes that's a bit unfair: she's something of a busybody, yes, but she's only a touch shallow—oh, who is she kidding? Just because she finds gossip interesting doesn't mean that's all she amounts to! Whatever happened to freedom of expression, anyway? She thought it was possible to not be judged by your lesser qualities in this day and age!
Then again, her conscience tells her, you judge people by their lesser qualities all the time.
She curses her conscience and tries to put the whole thing out of her mind. God, she's touchy today. And all because she dropped her trunk on her foot…
Which reminds her: two trunks and a mission. Right. Mary goes back to thinking about her goal for the day—finding out more about the Lily Evans scandal—as she somehow lugs her trunks across the platform, praying to quickly find a compartment where she can stuff these and be rid of them for the next few hours. She only feels a little guilty for her curiosity; in her defense, Lily never even hung around anyone but that horrid Snape boy until last June, and anyway, as her newly appointed friend, Mary cares about Lily enough to want to know the full story—she just doesn't know her well enough to get it from her. Honestly, is that so bad?
Oh, and Mary also wants an update on the Pol Patil drama, but that'll be easy enough; she's mates with Veronica Smethley, and Ver and Greta are basically attached at the hip, so if Mary somehow don't end up in Pol's compartment, she'll at least get the story from them. And if today turns out to be a good day, Mary will talk to Reg again—or at least find out from one of his mates whether he thinks it's too soon to kiss on the fourth date, which with any luck will happen the next time they go to Hogsmeade.
That settles it, Mary decides, heaving her trunks onto the train: she's definitely sitting with the Hufflepuffs today, or at least in Ver's compartment.
To her great fortune, the first fellow sixth year Mary runs into is Amos Diggory. "Amos!" she exclaims, dragging her trunks and herself forward to embrace him in a hasty half-hug. "I haven't heard from you in, like, ages! How was your summer?"
"Fine, fine," says Amos, looking nervous—she doesn't think the poor boy ever fully recovered from his breakup with Mary last November. Amos seems to forget that it was he who dumped her, not the other way around—and besides, it's not like it was serious or anything. For crying out loud, she only dated the bloke for three weeks. "I spent most of it on holiday along the Mediterranean," he tells her next, and Mary realizes that he does look rather tan, compared to when she last saw him in June; his hair is streaked with blonde, too, likely from the sun.
Thinking of which, Mary really should have gotten her roots done before leaving for Hogwarts. It's so much cheaper to do it the Muggle way, and she's running low on Sleekeazy's…
"Good, good," Mary says quickly, hoping he doesn't think she's being rude. "Do you know whether Ver's here yet? I wanted to catch up with her…"
Amos brightens at Mary's mention of her; she reckons he feels awkward, it being just the two of them. Should've thought about that before her broke up with her, shouldn't he have, Diggory? "You know, Mary, I was just taking my things to her compartment—we're sitting with Greta, Pol, and Reg. Would you care to join us?"
Her exasperation with him fades. God must be looking upon her favorably today. "I would love to join you, Amos," Mary says genuinely, sweeping her hair out of her eyes. "Which compartment are you all in?"
Thankfully for her throbbing foot, Mary's target compartment is just a few down from their current one. Mary passes through Lene's on the walk down; she's sitting with the Gryffindor boys (sans Remus, who must be with the prefects already) and invites her to sit with them, but Mary declines, mouthing CATTERMOLE at her and tilting her head in Amos's direction. Cottoning on, Lene nods and mouths back her approval; James and Sirius don't even notice, but Mary spots Peter blinking in confusion before she walks out and shuts the compartment door behind her. Laughing it off, she almost doesn't realize that Lily hadn't been with them—and as Alice is always keen on reminding the lot of them, Lily's not a prefect, so she has no reason not to be sitting with Marlene.
This could be interesting.
A chorus of "hellos" greets Mary in Amos's compartment, and she gives a general wave to them all before straining to put away her trunks. "Hey, everyone," she says, grunting with the effort. "How have you all been?"
As expected, everyone starts chattering away at once—Amos about Italy, Greta and Pol about each other, Ver about her widely publicized infatuation with Gilderoy Lockhart. It's so much to follow (she's trying to focus on Greta and Pol without giving the impression of snubbing Amos or Ver, but probably not succeeding) that she doesn't notice Reg's silence until he comes up behind her and murmurs, "Let me help you with those."
Mary laughs and thanks him, watching his biceps with mild interest as he lifts up the trunks. She's always kind of just laughed along whenever Marlene or Ver gushed over the shirtless men in the pages of Witch Weekly, not feeling whatever it is that they apparently did. Now, she fixates on the bare bits of Reg's arms and tries to make herself understand the appeal, to see them as something other than a curiosity.
But Mary has plenty of other, better reasons to want to pursue a relationship with Reg, she reminds herself. He's sweet and quiet and a little awkward in that charming way, and that's got to make him a good fit for Mary, hasn't it? It'll give her someone to listen to her and balance her out. Right?
"Really, Mary, was it necessary to bring two trunks to Hogwarts?" Reg asks wearily. "Doesn't just the one suffice?"
"Where else was I supposed to store my cosmetics?" she simpers, her eyes wide and pleading. Reg shakes his head, failing to conceal a blush, and Mary grins—it's good to know she has noticeable effects on him.
Like she said, though, she's on a mission that she intends to fulfill in good time. Mary cuts to the chase, once the pandemonium dies down. "So, like, what have you guys heard about the whole Lily Evans business?"
"Merlin, Mary, you don't mess around, do you?" teases Greta; her laughter, as always, reminds Mary of tinkling china. "And wouldn't you know more than us about her? You've actually seen her all summer."
"Only before her parents died!" Mary says defensively. "She disappeared off the face of the wizarding world after—"
Pol rolls his eyes. "Careful how you phrase it, Mary, you don't want to sound callous."
Mary crosses her arms and glares. "Frankly, Pol, I don't give a damn whether you think I'm callous. What about, like, freedom of expression?"
"It's not exactly constitutionally guaranteed, you know," says Greta, her voice wavering—she and Mary are friends, but Greta still wants to defend her new boyfriend. Mary can relate to that, not that she wants her newfound appreciation of freedom of expression threatened or anything.
"Greta, honey, the Constitution is unwritten. Were you to take it up in the courts, the jury wouldn't have the judicial review to decide it, either."
She smacks him playfully. "Do you have to be such a Ravenclaw all the time, Pol?" (Mary rolls her eyes—this shit is typical Pol, and it's a little annoying to watch Greta be so charmed by it. She likes Greta and all, but honest to Merlin, she liked both of them a hell of a lot better when Pol was with Davies, who wouldn't be having any of this.)
"C'mon, focus, Lily Evans," Mary redirects them, tapping her foot. "Any ideas?"
"Wasn't it the day of her sister's wedding?" inquires Amos, sparking the rumor exchange. "I heard there was a Death Eater attack during the reception."
Pol rolls his eyes again, this time at Amos. "Don't be daft, Diggory, it would've made the papers if there had been an attack—I heard it was a car crash on the drive back after."
"Sucks to be her sister," sniggers Ver. "Can you imagine? Finding out about your parents' death while your new husband is deflowering you?"
Mary chortles appreciatively but corrects them: "The car crash was on the way home after the rehearsal, not, like, the wedding itself. But what about after? Where was she staying, for one thing?"
"James Potter's, of course," says Greta. "His parents took her in."
"No, that's Sirius Black," says Pol dismissively.
Greta gapes. "Believe me, Pol, Evans was not staying with Black—have you heard of his parents? Complete pureblood nutters."
Next to Mary, Reg—whose mum is one of the said pureblood nutters and has been rowing with him all summer for dating Mary—stiffens. Glancing at him with concern, Mary slides a hand into his lap, and he takes it, smiling gratefully. He's such a sweetheart, Reg is—though he's far too polite for Mary's liking, what with his refusal to dish on the gossip he knows and all.
Oh, the trials of being a bumbling, shallow busybody—not that this means she's admitting to it, mind you.
"I meant that Black's staying with Potter, love," Pol amends. "Didn't you know? He ran away from home—there was a fight about You-Know-Who, but I don't know the details."
Mary's surprised by this—she hadn't known about Sirius running away—but that's a discussion for another day. "She did stay with James, but that was earlier—some of the Gryffindors went to a concert and, like, stayed the night at his place after. Leigh told me she spent a few extra days there—exploring his library, or something."
"Figures," mutters Ver scathingly. "Perfect little Evans, spending the night with a bloke to get access to his books…"
"Don't talk about Evans like that, Veronica," says Reg feebly. Mary gives his hand a squeeze—she knows how uncomfortable this sort of thing makes him (not that that's going to deter her).
Ver says nothing further, drumming her manicured nails on the seat beside her. Greta asks, "Didn't they go on a date last June, though? Potter and Evans. I heard—"
Mary shakes her head. "Cover story—she needed an excuse to get away from Lene and get her a birthday gift. She was at the McKinnons' before the accident."
Amos comments, "She can't be enjoying her first day back. After hiding wherever she was all summer and now having to face all the rumors…"
"Yeah, well, you don't seem to keen on stopping them," says Pol.
"We're not perpetuating them, we're dispelling the false ones," Amos says, glaring at Pol—Mary's getting a distinct impression that Greta's mates aren't very happy about her latest boyfriend, and Mary makes a mental note to ask Ver about this later. "She could have been staying with her sister—"
Mary shakes her head. "Couldn't've been. Petunia, like, despises Lily."
"Like, no kidding," says Pol. His voice drips with sarcasm, and Mary fights back a strong impulse to stick her tongue out at him.
"I heard something, maybe a week back," says Ver suddenly, "about her staying with some Auror… somebody's uncle here at Hogwarts?"
Greta gives some polarizing opinion or other in response, but Mary tenses with recognition. The whole month of August, Leigh only ever came to Mary's house, not the other way around, and she wasn't with her siblings when Mary saw them on the platform earlier…
The compartment door slides open, breaking her train of thought. They're all rendered speechless as none other than Lily Evans herself steps in, tailed by a tabby cat and starting to ask, "I'm sorry, but have any of you seen… oh." She stops herself and looks down, clumsily tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "Oh. It's like that, then," she finishes, much quieter.
They all watch with bated breath, mortified—or, at least, Mary's mortified. Pol is inappropriately smug (she's starting to agree with Amos about him), and from the looks of it, Ver might be trying to Petrify Lily with looks alone. The cat hisses. "Lily, wait," Mary says anxiously, but Lily just looks at her with bitterness in her eyes, then turns and walks out without so much as a slammed door in her wake.
When Mary said she shouldn't be judged for her lesser qualities—she takes that back.
Her shame overpowers her better instincts, so when she jumps to her feet and leaves the compartment, she's in hot pursuit not of Lily but of Leigh. When Mary finds her compartment again, she doesn't even bother greeting the boys and rounds on Leigh immediately. That familiar feeling of warmth that always surges when Marlene is around creeps up from her chest to her throat, but it's as unwelcome as acid this time because she hurt her. She hid things from Mary, and that hurts. "McKinnon, you'd better have a good reason why I had to find out about Lily spending August with you and your uncle from Veronica Smethley."
Lene pales, while her three companions survey Mary with visible interest (though she detects from Sirius and Peter the slightest twinges of disgust). "I never told Smethley about it," Lene says sheepishly, all color drained from her cheeks and not likely to soon return.
"Nor did you tell me," Mary says, jabbing a finger into her chest. "Like, this is what I get—your best mate—"
"Well, you haven't exactly been good at keeping secrets in the past!" snaps Lene, crossing her own arms and staring Mary down. And it's true—but only for the things that don't matter, is what Marlene doesn't realize.
"Right, because, like, I've definitely blabbed all about your family history," Mary seethes. At the other end of the compartment, Sirius and James exchange a look. "And whomever you told deemed it appropriate to spread the news to the Hufflepuffs, which doesn't say much about your judgment, now, does it?"
Leigh fidgets. "Take your concerns up with Lily herself, then, because I didn't tell anyone she was with me."
"Where is Lily, anyway?" Mary pries, looking around (needlessly).
"She and Emmeline are saving a compartment for Alice and some of the other prefects," says Sirius from the boys' corner. "James here invited them to sit with us, but Evans has been avoiding him all month, the poor bloke."
James's face falls as Sirius brings it up, so Peter distracts them hastily: "Plus, they brought cats this year—" (Mary interrupts to tell him that Em's is actually a Kneazle) "—and I'm allergic. Why didn't you tell us your uncle's an Auror, Marlene?"
Leigh is growing more uncomfortable by the second. Considering her touchy background, Mary would usually do something more to cover for her, but she's too annoyed to care right now—how could Ver have found out before she did? Lene turns to Peter and says with a pleading note in her voice, "I—"
She doesn't have to explain, though, because Remus barges into the compartment to interrupt. "Dorcas Meadowes," he says breathlessly, sitting on the other side of Peter. "The new Head Girl is Dorcas Meadowes."
Mary's so bothered by Leigh's recent secrecy that she doesn't even care about the scandal, when she stops to think about it, but it takes her by surprise enough that she immediately says, "The Slytherin? Fabian's girlfriend?"
"The one and only," verifies Remus, yawning. He looks exhausted and rests his head against the seat, not even bothering to fish a book out of his trunk. "It was like a lion's den in there. Everyone thought it was between Hestia Jones and Angela Macmillan—Angela took it personally, mind you, I don't think I've ever seen anyone so affronted in my life. Gideon was the worst, of course—he loathes Meadowes like you can't believe—but even the Slytherins were mad; she's none too popular with them for dating a Gryffindor, either. Kingsley and Elisabeth tried to calm things down, but to no avail… Kingsley's Head Boy, of course, everyone saw that coming."
"Meadowes, huh," scoffs Sirius. James gives him a look—he's civil with Meadowes, Mary knows—but Sirius continues, "I used to see her at my parents' parties when we were younger—Death Eater forerunners, you know. Never thought she'd be Head Girl one day—she hero-worshipped Rabastan Lestrange, and look how he turned out."
Mary knows better than to ask. Giving Lene one final look, she gets up and announces, "I'm going to head back to my compartment—this isn't over, Marlene."
How could Lene not bloody tell her that she and Lily moved in with Doc? Mary can understand respecting Lily's privacy and wanting to keep her real father's identity under wraps, but Lena should know Mary well enough by now to trust her with that knowledge—especially since hiding it from her must have been hard when they saw each other nearly every day for the latter half of last summer.
Suddenly, Mary doesn't much care to catch up with the rest of the student body. She usually loves the first day of school and the fresh stories that come with it, but other people's business doesn't seem to matter when your best mate can't trust you with hers.
Feeling fairly riled (and inexplicably annoyed with Pol and Ver in particular), Mary doesn't go back to her compartment and instead scours the train for a kinder familiar face. She finds it in Maggie McKinnon—whose smile droops at the sight of Mary, but then, maybe that's the kind of person Mary should start hanging around.
If she had an ounce of sense, she probably wouldn't like herself much, either.
"D'you mind if I sit here, Maggie?" she requests, poking her head into her compartment.
She knows Maggie doesn't like her, but by association with Leigh, she lets Mary in. Mary doesn't recognize the others in her compartment, but judging by the fact that Maggie's ignoring them and reading quietly by the window seat, Mary shouldn't necessarily recognize them as her friends.
They don't talk much for the duration of the train ride—but then, between Maggie and her, that's only to be expected. To be honest, Maggie doesn't like much of anyone, other than her siblings—not that this ever seems to bother her. Mary joins her and a couple fifth years (is it really her sixth year already? Fifth year went by so fast with so little to show for it) in the carriages as well and only parts from Maggie upon entering the Great Hall, when Maggie leaves for the Ravenclaw table.
Mary yawns her way through the Sorting—honestly, who really cares about the Hat's song-and-dance, or how many first years are Sorted into Gryffindor? She nearly misses Matt McKinnon's Sorting, not that there's much to see: the Hat deliberates for just a few seconds before declaring him a Hufflepuff. The feast itself is equally tedious, for the food doesn't make up for the tension between the Gryffindor sixth years. Leigh is now avoiding the boys and Mary and is talking with Lily and Em, leaving Mary with Alice for the duration of the meal—and sorry to say, Mary's never exactly been Alice's biggest fan. She chatters on about O.W.L. scores for a good part of dinner, and Mary is entirely unsurprised to learn that Alice's marks are stellar: five Os and five Es. (At this news, Lily, whom Marlene tells Mary earned four Os and an A along with all her Es, does an incredibly poor job of covering up her disappointment and struggles to look like she's listening to Lene.)
It occurs to Mary that this is the first time they've all been together since Lily's going-away party and that it's not exactly a happy reunion. There's an obvious fight on the horizon between Lily and James, judging from the looks they're giving each other (hers warning, his pining)—but there's something not right about the way she's treating the other boys, either, since their usual disinterest has morphed into deliberate avoidance. The boys, in turn, are staring down Lene, whose conversation with Em and Lily is all too intent, and she and Lily clearly want nothing to do with Mary.
For once, Mary only cares about the last of these observations, not that she clues Alice in.
It only gets interesting with Dumbledore's post-feast speech, which is considerably livened up by a couple of his announcements. It isn't until after mentions of the Forbidden Forest, Hogsmeade visits, and Quidditch tryouts that he catches Mary's attention, though, saying, "Next, it is our pleasure to introduce to you the newest member of the Hogwarts staff, who will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this school year—Professor Tonks."
Lukewarm applause fills the hall, but something rings a bell: the name sounds familiar. She strains for a glimpse of the new professor, who is chocolate-and-white, with brown eyes and hair against the palest skin Mary's seen in a while, and Mary can't help thinking that some highlights and a tan would do her good. But then she realizes Tonks's eyes are fixed somewhere close to Mary's—and Sirius's fists are clenched on the table when Mary turns to follow the professor's gaze.
Doesn't Sirius have a cousin who married a man named Tonks?
Before she can ask Sirius whether he knows her, though, Dumbledore's resumed speaking. "And finally, I'd like to announce a new program that Hogwarts is proud to host for the first time," he's saying, smiling. "After lengthy collaboration to make this opportunity possible, we and the Ministry of Magic will be sponsoring work-study programs available to sixth and seventh year students to help counteract the recent economic downturn." There's a brief pause—everyone knows that the said "downturn" was caused by the war with You-Know-Who—but a buzz of speculation soon arises amongst the older students.
The Hall quiets again, though, as Dumbledore lifts his hands for silence. "All seventh years will be guaranteed their desired positions, and sixth years can compete for the remaining available internships after seventh years receive their assignments. Programs are available in six departments of the Ministry and include, among others, setup for the 1978 Quidditch World Cup, junior ambassadorships in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and accelerated Auror training. Further details will be available from the Heads of Houses tomorrow for seventh years and Friday for sixth years."
Chatter from the students drowns out the Headmaster's closing words. It's certainly an exciting prospect—how many students, Mary wonders, would want an internship in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures? She turns to her classmates for their reactions; Leigh has broken her silence with Mary's end of the table to talk to Alice about the Auror program, and Lily is yakking to a disinterested Em about the mentioned ambassadorship. The boys, though, don't seem nearly as interested: Remus in particular waves off James's concerned-looking questions, his face pale.
Peter catches Mary's attention as students start rising to find their dormitories, asking, "You're all right, Mary? You haven't said much all evening."
She glances at him, startled, and smiles benignly. "I'm fine, Peter, thanks," she says, even though she's not. "Guess I'm just, like, tired from the train ride."
Something like that, anyway.
They all break apart then—Alice and Remus leave with the prefects, and the rest of them head up to our respective dormitories… well, most of them do, anyway. "Where's Lena?" Mary wonders aloud in the girls' dorm, shutting the hangings on her four-poster and starting to get changed. She hears scuffles at the other end of the dorm, probably the cats. Mary doesn't doubt that Em and Lily bought them together: Lily would never name a cat Aquarius of her own accord.
"She went off with Black somewhere," answers Lily quietly. The news makes Mary uneasy—Merlin knows those two can't be trusted together—but she's still too annoyed with Lene not for telling her about Lily to seek her out, so she just shrugs halfheartedly as she wriggles into her pajama shorts.
Em, she recalls, is reading in the common room, and Alice is discussing prefect duties with Remus, leaving Mary alone with Lily for the first time since she walked in on Mary's Hogwarts Express compartment. A pang of guilt runs down her spine, and she hastily yanks on a nightgown and opens the curtains to talk to her. Lily's sitting on the edge of her own four-poster, fiddling with the lining of her baggy new nightshirt (does that witch own anything that fits her properly?) and looking pointedly down.
Hesitantly, Mary approaches her, and Lily doesn't react when Mary sits down next to her—but then, she doesn't pull back, either. That's a good sign, right? "Look, Lily… I'm sorry about the train earlier." She scoffs, still not looking up at Mary, who sighs—she could probably have sounded more sincere than that when she apologized. "I didn't know whether you were ready to talk about it, so I just, like—"
"Look, Mary, it's fine, I don't care," Lily insists, but Mary doesn't believe her. Who would?
"But I care," Mary retorts, twiddling her thumbs nervously. "I know we've never really gotten on well—" she can tell Lily's holding in an insult here "—but, like, I want to make sure you're all right."
Lily shrugs, looking shiftily at her. "I'm fine," she mutters, scooting backwards on the bed and slipping under the bedspread. "Just, please, go to bed, Mary." Moonshine—Em's Kneazle—curls up atop the covers with her, almost defensively.
Mary wants to say that no one who loses her parents at sixteen can be fine, but she doesn't want to push it after everything else that's happened today. Instead, she sneezes defiantly on Moonshine and then climbs into my own bed—but not before applying liberal amounts of "Sleekeazy's Hair Potion—For Blondes" to her roots.