Work Text:
The back door is locked. Of course it is.
Lily looks up at the window she knows leads to the smallest bedroom and huffs, shouldering her overstuffed bookbag. She quickly bends down to snatch a couple acorns off the ground and— before she can think better of it— Lily chucks one at the glass. It makes contact with a satisfying cling before bouncing and flying off. She waits a beat, maybe two, then she throws two more just for good measure. Cling, cling.
Before she can even think to do it again, the window cracks open.
“Wrong room, Potter,” a supremely irritated voice quietly calls from above. There she is, Lily thinks as an amused grin slides on her face.
“Not Potter, darling.”
She has to hold back a laugh when the window immediately flies open and a startled head of short black curls pops out.
“Lily?” the youngest Black hisses incredulously, her grey eyes wide and reflective in the dark. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to give you a makeover, mo réalta.”
“At two in the morning? On a Wednesday?”
“Obviously,” Lily says. “Now come let me in before your neighbours hear me whisper-shouting on the front lawn.”
“I—” She casts a quick look around outside before she lets out a little huff. “Oh, alright. Stay right there, I’ll be down in a mo.”
True to her word, it’s only a couple minutes later that the lock on the back door clicks open and Lily is being snuck inside, her friend leading her up the stairs carefully to avoid waking her shitty parents with the creaky steps.
They reach the top floor with minimal noise, apart from the hissed “Kreacher, shoo!” at the ancient Black family cat, who growled at Lily upon seeing her on the first floor landing. Lily shuffles over to the familiar door at the end of the hall, though the lovably pretentious sign that the other girl had had plastered to the wood since she was twelve and Sirius raided her wardrobe is now gone. Thinking back to the name on said sign, Lily thinks she understands why.
It’s only been a couple of weeks since her best friend came out to her. It happened at school, in the secluded corner of the library they’d long since claimed as theirs. The two of them were still getting used to being, well, just the two of them following Severus’ bigotry towards Lily upon discovering she was a lesbian, and the subsequent outing of her to the entire school. That had hurt, badly. She had known Severus since they were six, before either of them had met the younger third member of their little group. He was the first friend she made after moving from Ireland with her parents. Lily never would have thought him to be capable of that, and yet.
The black-haired girl stuck by her side through it all and, if anything, the betrayal only made them closer. Perhaps that was why she finally felt comfortable enough to tell Lily that she’s trans.
Selfishly, the only thing Lily could feel after hearing that was slightly hysterical relief. Discovering the subject of your sexuality crisis has actually been a girl the whole time will do that to you.
Her friend’s bedroom is just as she remembers, emerald green walls and rich silk sheets. Her bookbag bounces on the bed as she tosses it down, immediately rifling through it to pull out the makeup and clothes she’d stuffed in beside her textbooks. The other girl peeks from behind her shoulder uncertainly.
“What’s all this for again?”
“A makeover.” Lily says as she lays a skirt out on the bed. “It’s a girl's sleepover tradition I hear. Thought I could finally partake in it now that I know my best friend is a girl.”
She casts a quick look behind her and softens at the apprehension in those bright grey eyes. “You don’t have to wear any of this if you don’t want to, I just thought it might be nice.”
“No, I… I want to. I just— what if I don’t look good in them? What if I’m too—”
“Darling, you’ll look gorgeous. I promise.”
She swallows before giving a faltering nod. “Okay. I trust you.”
Lily sets to assembling the perfect outfit, sorting through the frankly absurd amount of women’s clothing she brought with her. Her friend sits on the edge of her bed, quiet and unsure.
“I’ve chosen a name, I think,” she suddenly blurts out, fiddling with the hem of her nightshirt. Lily blinks, looking up from the clothes. She quickly looks away, refusing to meet Lily’s eyes.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” She looks over to Lily just once, a quick nervous glance before she breaks eye contact again, staring fixedly at the wall. Lily watches the side of her face as she does so, committing every freckle, every sharp edge to memory.
She wants to reassure her, to reach out and steady those nervously fidgeting hands with her own. Instead, she says softly, “What is it?”
“Mira.” The other girl swallows, her voice hesitant. “My name is Mira.”
“Mira…” Lily considers, the name settling naturally in the air between them. It feels right. It feels familiar. “That’s a star, right?”
“Yes,” she affirms quietly. “It’s a variable star in the Cetus constellation. It’s pretty bright, but for part of the year you just… can’t see it. I thought it was fitting, I guess.”
“It is. It’s very you, mo réalta.”
“So you like it?” Mira asks hesitantly, finally turning to look at her once more. Jade green meets silvery grey.
“Of course. It’s a lovely name,” she says softly, and a shy smile quirks Mira’s lips. Lily’s heart flutters in her ribcage at the sight.
“Right, well.” She changes the topic, clearing her throat and hoping the colour on her cheeks isn’t too noticeable. She grabs a flowy white dress and holds it up. “This one might fit you. It was Petunia’s and you’re closer to her size than mine.”
Mira exhales shakily. “Alright.”
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Lily frowns. Mira shakes her head, already grabbing it.
“No, it’s fine. You’ll tell me if it’s awful?”
“I won’t have to.”
Mira snorts softly, shaking her head. “Right. Could you just— close your eyes?”
“Of course.”
Her world goes dark as she does so, the sounds of gentle breathing and the shuffling of clothes filling the room. A feeling of warm excitement swells within her. She’s never seen Mira in a dress before, because she’s never been in one. Lily can’t believe she is going to be the first person to witness her like that. To see her be herself.
There’s the sound of a throat clearing, then a mumbled, “You can look now.”
She opens her eyes, and her breath catches.
Before her stands Mira, draped in soft white fabric and looking more nervous than Lily can ever remember seeing her. Simultaneously, she looks more like herself than she ever has before. The dress is long, almost too long as it nearly touches the floor, flaring gently at her sock-covered feet. Eyes trailing upwards, Lily notices that the fabric pulls at her waist, accentuating her slight curves and making Lily’s mouth go dry.
Yeah, she thinks. I’m definitely gay.
“Well?” Mira prompts, her arms crossed over her chest self-consciously. “How is it?”
She goes to reply, but it’s as if her brain and mouth are no longer connected, her mind far too caught in a cycle of pretty, pretty, pretty to actually function. Lily feels like an idiot. She probably looks like one too.
Mira’s face twists at her silence. “I knew it. I knew I’d look stu—”
“No!” Lily quickly steps forwards, hands twitching with the urge to reach out and hold her. “No, you don’t look stupid or bad or any other thing your rotten brain is telling you.”
“…No?” she asks faintly, sniffling with unshed tears.
“Never,” Lily says, giving in to her urge and reaching up to cup her face, running her thumb along the defined line of her cheekbone. “No, you look…”
Lily's eyes study Mira, drinking her in. The way wide eyes glisten with emotion, bringing out the flecks of blue scattered within the silver. The way a splotchy flush blooms on fair cheeks, accentuating the smattering of freckles. The way black hair softly frames sharp features, curling delicately at the nape of the neck. Lily doesn’t even need to look at the dress to know that she’s looking at the most beautiful girl in the world.
“You look… stunning,” Lily breathes finally. Mira’s brow furrows for just a second before her face falls and she looks away, knocking the hand from her cheek.
“You don’t have to do that.”
Lily blinks at the sudden change in tone. “What?”
Mira turns to her once more. “You don’t have to pretend to be attracted to me, Lily.”
“Pretend?” she repeats, heart sinking at the hurt expression on her face. “Mira, I’ve had a crush on you for months.”
She freezes, eyes searching her face with a mixture of confusion and something that looks an awful lot like hope. Lily doesn’t dare breathe.
“But, you’re a lesbian.”
“And you’re a girl.”
“You didn’t know that until three weeks ago,” she counters, shaking her head.
“Yes, well,” Lily laughs slightly nervously. “That did send me through quite the crisis.”
Mira looks broken, to put it simply. She blinks, shaking her head again, black curls bouncing with the movement. “I— what?”
“I was so confused. For a second I thought I might be bi, but that didn’t feel right. I’ve never liked boys, it was just…you. Something about you was different, somehow.” Lily tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, face hot and heart beating rather quickly. “Then it turned out that it actually was different on account of you not being a boy at all, and everything clicked.”
Mira stares at her, wide-eyed and pink-cheeked. Her mouth has fallen open slightly in shock, silently gaping. Lily shuffles anxiously, chewing her lip. Her mind is beginning to wander, worrying thoughts like What if she doesn’t like me back? and What if this ruins our friendship? and, most sickeningly, What if I lose her over this? replaying over and over.
“Look, if you don’t feel the same way then that’s fine. We can just forget abou—”
“No!” Mira blurts out, cheeks red. Lily’s heart skips a beat.
“No?”
“No, I—” Her voice fails for just a moment. She clears her throat and says finally, “I like you too.”
“You do?” Lily breathes.
“God, yes,” Mira rushes out. “I never thought I had a chance, and I was fine with that, but—”
“How would you not have a chance? You’re stunning.”
“You’re a lesbian, Lily.”
“Just shut up and kiss me already.”
And she does. By God, she does.
It is the first kiss of many, and Lily wouldn’t have it any other way.