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Mary taps away on her phone, her acrylic magenta nails clinking against the surface quickly. She stops for half a second, deletes a word and finally hits send.
As she makes her way through the familiar halls, multiple people salute her – a guy from the fencing team, someone she once sat with at lunch, Peter’s sister, Lottie, then that one kid from drama club whose name she can’t quite remember, a friend of the guy Lily’s (kinda) been seeing, and more and more and more-
Some nod. Others wave. One or two stop for a quick “What’s up?” or “Where are you headed?”.
It's exhausting, but Mary supposes it’s fair. There's a price to pay to be the school’s resident sweetheart and popular girl, even on days when you feel reality slip through your fingers.
Thus, she smiles. She waves back. She chatters and chirps and charms her way out of conversations she doesn’t feel like having. She avoids comments about how pretty she’s looking today, or about what GCSEs she’ll take this year... or whether she’s single or not.
Finally though, she makes it to her destination – Hogwarts Library.
She closes the doors behind her just as another familiar person was approaching in her periphery, leaning against them for support as she takes a deep breath.
Step one, completed.
Mary makes her way past the front, nodding politely to Ms. Pince, then through the shelves, past a few windows and finally, to her friends’ table. She expected to be the first ti arrive – there is, after all, a good half an hour until their scheduled meeting time. But there is someone else at their table.
Marlene McKinnon. Choppy mullet. Layered necklaces. Cargo shorts and crop tops. Headphones on. Drumming the table with two colored pencils.
Mary hides behind a shelf out of instinct, berating herself because it’s just Marlene. Marls, who has seen her on the worst and best of days. Cherry, who always has a lollipop on the ready.
Marlene, who’s rocking her head slightly to the pounding in her ears, mumbling something alongside the lyrics and off-beat tapping her makeshift drumsticks to the desk. A muted sound escapes from her headphones and Mary’s half sure she’s blowing her eardrums out with Eurythmics’ “Sweet dreams” yet again and acting out an entire concert out in her head.
Mary surpresses a laugh and leans into the shelf, watching her friend and feeling the knot in her chest loosen. Gods, she’s an absolute dream.
Why can’t it be like this with other people? She spends most of her time with Marlene in the library, arguing about stupid things and yet she feels safest around her.
Mary knows herself to a T. She’s aware of her own issues and misgivings, of her preferences and every responsability and expectation she shoulders.
That's why, when Marlene’s song eventually must be ending and she stops tapping, instead opening her eyes and looking so soft and lost-
Mary looks away.
She really can’t do this.
The problem is not that it’s a girl, but that it's Marlene, for goodness’ sake! She's known her for years! She's never said it out loud, but most of her friends suspect Mary might not be as straight as a ruler. They don’t discuss it much, yet they all know Remus likes men too, that Lily has been caught at least once or twice stared at Alice or Wendy a little hopelessly and that even Regulus is oblivious to both girls and boys who crush on him.
It's not like it’s a big deal. Mary liking girls alongside boys is very normal.
What is not, however, is her being unable to look away when she realizes she’s staring at Marls. Or how that damn nickname she sometimes uses on Mary makes her entire throat close up. Or-
Marlene closes her eyes for a moment, then drags the headphones off her ears, ruffling her half-up ponytail in the process. Pushing the crayons away, she hums something under her breath, her clunky boots beating a steadier rhytm on the floor.
Mary finally gathers her wits and walks forward, propping her own bag a bit better on her shoulder. Okay, deep breaths. Deep breaths, Mary. You're being silly. This is Marls. Marls! You've grown up with her, Pete and Potter. You'll be fine.
Often, Mary lays awake at night and wonders how is the world so cruel. Why she’s already had to experience so much shit when she’s not even sixteen yet. Why couldn’t she fall in love with Peter in that one month they dated? He's the sweetest person in their year, to be frank. He baked her cookies and scones and used his father’s secret recipes for her! He was the best boyfriend possible and didn’t even make it weird when they broke up!
Or- Lily love, forgive me – Potter! Mary hasn’t been able to stomach his guts since he started circling Lily, but she has to give it to him – he is hot. He does martial arts, he wields a charming smile and his parents are lovely! Why couldn’t she fall for him and spare both Lily and herself the troubles they have now, hm?
Oh right. Because she hasn’t really felt anything too strong towards others since Marlene, her Cherry, kissed her out of curiosity two summers ago to decide whether or not she’s a lesbian (spoiler – yes she is, she very much is) .
And Mary? Mary hadn’t thought much about girls back then, but she’s also never told Marlene that that moment made her realize she also might like girls.
But right now she doesn’t have time to think over that, because Marls turns and spots her, a crooked grin taking up her face.
“Well, well, well, who do we have here?” she drawls, leaning back into her chair and spinning one of the crayons across her knuckles.
Mary shakes her head in amusement, getting to the table and plopping her heavy, keychain-adorned bag on a chair.
“Hello there too, love” Mary responds with a smirk “need any help in geometry?”
Marlene huffs in annoyance “Good job, rubbing salt into the wound. A little low for you, MacDonald”
That's how things go between them. They taunt and they tease and they’ve done this for more than a decade. Mary is a genius in math and logical subjects – while Marlene, oddly enough, will most likely get a scholarship as an opera singer at Juilliard if she keeps her voice in check and Remus’ voice changes don't turn contagious. they balance each other out in a way.
“You like it like that, Cherry” Mary shrugs, leaning forward and tugging Marlene's ponytail a bit to the left before tightening it “There you go. It was crooked.”
Marlene smiles lopsided again, and gosh, Mary would like to snog that expression right off her face. She's both frustrating and intriguing. A punk who wears corsets and viking helmets in the school’s ampheatheatre. The perfect mix between a band’s guitar player and an accurate Mercutio in a Shakespeare play. Both chill and intense. Ice and... not fire, but lava.
And Mary kind of wants it all.
“Thanks, princess” Marlene sing-songs, capturing Mary’s hand before it retreats and placing a feather-light kiss against her knuckles that sends a shot of fire through Mary’s lungs and stomach, bursting somewhere along her ribs.
She pulls her hand back with a scoff of laughter and rolls her eyes affectionately, but Marlene seems unbothered.
“What? I’d be nothing without you, m’lady-” to prove her point, Marlene gets up and kneels knight-style by Mary’s seat, grabbind her hand and holding it with fake-reverence.
Ignoring the knot in her throat, Mary laughts and lightly slaps her over the back of the head with her other hand.
“Gosh, stop it, what if madam Pince catches us like this?” she adds between chuckles, which only intensify when Marlene throws her head back, hand over her heart and pained expression on her face.
“Oh, m’lady, don't mind the witch that guards this land! I am but a meek knight in the court of thy love! It is my lady, oh it is my love!” Marlene quotes, opening one eye and catching Mary’s gaze “-if she only knew she were!”
Mary lets out a full-belly laugh, half out of the whole absurdity of their situation, but also to hide the shiver that goes down her spine. Goodness gracious, if Marls only knew how much Mary would love to hear those words - in a walk to the park, or whispered in the night or at a fancy dinner they both paid too much for, or while staying together, cooconed in a blanket in front of a fireplace with giggles and painted nails and secrets binding them together.
“C’mon Marls, get up, we’ll get in trouble!” Mary whisper-yells, hiding the growing ache in her heart behind an amused smile and pulling a groaning Marlene up by the arm.
“Oh, but my lady doffs my confession! I shall slumber now, for my sould has been torn to shreds over thy cruelty!” Marlene sighs, slumping in her seat and sending a smirk to Mary, and just like that, it’s all over and they're back to their normal bickering.
They chat a bit more until Lily, Remus and Regulus arrive for their study group. Marlene keeps dropping flirty comments – how Mary’s hair looks lovingly like a sunset, or how her eyes are pure Belgian chocolate, or how her new braces color – hot pink intertwined with baby blue – looks absolutely delicious.
And Mary bears them all with confidence. With witty replies. With bitten tongues and darting glances Marls enjoys a little too much.
She'll ignore how much it hurts though, to know this is just a game to Marlene, who’s been doing this since they were kids. Who has no way of knowing it stopped being a joke to Mary long ago. Who always plays around the truth. Who is able to date and have fun and have the chance to fall in love while Mary is... stuck.
But at night, Mary will replay her Cherry’s words in her head. She'll go over them and, if she’s lucky, she’ll dream that Marlene has truly become a knight and plans on doing anything to win Mary over. She'll imagine her lips over the back of her hand, but this time her eyes will be full of love and devotion instead of mirth.
One can only dream. Just like Marls’ favorite quote.
“To die,
To sleep;
To sleep:
perchance
To dream”
...maybe Mary’s dreams tonight could be, perchance, of her Cherry.