NOT YOUR PREY.

Mary had always enjoyed cooking -- she found it incredibly soothing, simply allowing the rhythmic nature of the activity to tend to her too often frayed nerves. Her mother had taught her when she was young, always inviting Mary into the kitchen with her, insisting that her daughter learn to make the dishes she so enjoyed eating, so that one day she’d be able to share them with her own children ( Mary had often rolled her eyes at that, but she couldn’t deny that sharing her cooking with Maisie and Ellie brought her genuine joy ). She also enjoyed cooking for others, it made her feel useful, appreciated, though having guests other than her or Reggie’s parents was quite a rare occurrence. 

Remus had mentioned being unwell when she’d last seen him little under a week ago, and Mary couldn’t help but worry. It felt weird, sometimes, she still worried over her friends ( or, former friends, in the case of many of her peers ), and yet there was too much distance between her and them to be able to do anything about it. Comforting them seemed like a thing of the past, something else that had been lost in the war. Still, she’d just about blurted out the invitation for dinner when she’d seen him -- she knew that Remus enjoyed her cooking, and she liked knowing that he was receiving a decent hot meal. It seemed like a win-win, to her.

Hearing the knock at the door, Mary stops what she’s doing and hurries off to answer it, smiling at Remus as she opens the door. “Remus,” She greets, stepping out of the way to let him through, before leading him back down the hallway to the kitchen. “Just take a seat at the table, if you like. It’s not quite ready yet -- we’re having chow mein, Maisie loves it -- I hope that’s alright.”

As a rule, if Mary was going to meet up with Lily, she tried to avoid it being in Godric’s Hollow. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Lily’s house ( quite the opposite, actually, she adored Lily’s home, and she always had ), it was more that she struggled to feel welcome there. She knew things were mending with Lily ( slowly, slowly but surely ), but Mary couldn’t ignore the fact that her former best friend shared her home with Sirius Black -- someone who had unequivocally not forgiven Mary for her decisions during the war. She’d rather not be confronted with that, if she could avoid it. 

Though she’d been spending less time in the muggle world in the many years since learning she was, in fact, nothing of the sort, Mary still quite enjoyed being among the muggles. It was how she’d grown up, after all, and she liked how simple things were in the muggle world, compared to the wizarding world. In addition, she didn’t think that wix had quite perfected the art of coffee yet ( Reggie had tried his best to learn, but Mary still liked to slip away to a few of her favourite cafes if she was craving a pick me up. 

Lily was perhaps one of her only friends she thought might understand wanting to spend time in muggle cafes -- after all, they both hailed from the same world, it had drawn them together in the first place -- and perhaps the only one who wouldn’t question Mary’s invitation to grab a drink at a small cafe not far from one of the entrances to the Ministry. She’s been sitting for a few minutes when she sees Lily enter, a small smile creeping onto her face, feeling more natural than it had last time she’d seen the redhead. “Lily,” She calls, beckoning her over, “Over here.”

Location: The Leaky Cauldron    Date: October 21st, 1986 Starter: Closed for @mcvttermole​

It was a lovely, hangover flavored morning that she decided to spend alone, at a table with flowers on it, eating something soft and cooked – which was more than she could eat at home and, at the same time, more than she could afford most mornings. Still, today, she felt productive, different, alive. She decided to keep moving early, despite the headache. Even when she saw Mary Cattermole, she didn’t do more than flinch for a moment, replacing surprise with a small smile –just enough not to be impertinent or feigned. 

It took her a moment to get the words out of her throat, but it seemed as if she was stronger in that particular morning. “Mary!” The name felt forbidden on her tongue. A mix of shame and personal bitterness made it difficult to swallow. They hadn’t spoken since the incident and Emma never felt the need to, until now. “Mary, please take a seat. I’d like to talk to you.” Without a speech prepared or a plan of action, she just figured it was best to solve possible conflicts even if spontaneously. The desire was odd and uncharacteristic, but the sight of Mary did inspire that.

The Leaky Cauldron was not usually where Mary could be found hanging around on a Tuesday morning, and yet, here she was. She’d spent the first part of her morning dropping the girls off at Reginald’s parents’ house for the day, leaving them with her in-laws and a very stern be good as warning ( though she had little doubt they would be ). She still wasn’t back at work full-time yet, and was using her day off to get some much-needed shopping done in Diagon Alley, deciding to drop into the Leaky Cauldron quickly for some tea and a quick bite to eat ( she hadn’t realised she’d neglected breakfast until she’d already left the house, the hollow feeling following her around for the rest of the morning ).

She hadn’t even yet made it to the counter to order when she heard someone calling her name, eyes instantly tracking in the direction of the voice to settle on someone she was fairly certain shouldn’t be speaking it with such enthusiasm. She wasn’t afraid of Emma Vanity ( no, why would she be? That would simply be absurd ), but she hadn’t spoken to the woman in years, and for very good reason. The last time they’d been in the same room together had been at Mary’s wedding ( she’d seen countless films where the protagonist objects at a wedding -- she just didn’t think people really did it ). Part of her felt sorry for Emma, but another, perhaps more petty, part of her was simply upset.

“Emma.” She says, hesitating in place like a deer trapped in headlights. She opens her mouth to say something to get herself out of the situation, but suddenly Emma is inviting her to sit, and her legs seem to be obliging all on their own ( she might not like the woman, but she’s certainly not rude enough to rebuff her entirely ). “It’s been a while.” She says awkwardly, before clearing her throat to try again, “Go on, then.”

Alice smiled at Mary. She didn’t know the woman that well. Apart from the fact that the woman and her husband hadn’t fought in the war. Alice had to bite her tongue when it came to people like this. Alice had risked everything to fight in the war, even when it became knowledge that it was her son that was in danger. She’d fought until Dumbledore has essentially made them go into hiding. It had been hard though. Going into hiding had gone against everything that Alice was. She and Frank had even gone on a mission once they’d though they were safe even though it still risked everything. So….. for people to have so easily hidden, and not chosen a side. She found it hard to take.

“It is….” She murmured with a smile. It was a good cause, even if she still did struggle with it all. Her family had lost so much in the war, and they really weren’t over it yet. It had made all of the Longbottom’s come closer together. That was one good thing that had come out of all of this. “How are you Mary?”

“I’m doing alright,” She says, chuckling nervously. “I have to say, I don’t very much enjoy things like this. I don’t do very well in big crowds.” She used to be better, but it seemed that Mary’s tolerance for mass gatherings had diminished steadily over the years. She opts to change the subject, latching onto Alice’s question like a lifeline. “Work’s keeping me busy, of course. I’m not back full-time yet, though it’s only a matter of time.” She’d taken quite a bit of time after Ellie was born -- after Maisie’s birth, she hadn’t had much time to simply enjoy motherhood, the war had only just ended, and she and Reggie had to focus on staying safe and making ends meet. Ellie’s birth had been different, she’d been more settled, more able to enjoy the little things. 

“How about you? How’s your boy?” She searches her memory for the name of the Longbottoms’ son, “Neville?” 

..

Remus lifted his head and gave a sigh of relief, shaking his head slightly. “Mary, thank God. I thought it was going to be Emma Vanity back again.” The face he pulled spoke volumes about what he thought of her though Mary had more reason to dislike Emma for her infatuation of Reggie and the whole wedding-crashing-saga. In reality, Remus had been much more worried about being disturbed by another Black family member. He was two out of three on the Blacks in attendance tonight (or former Blacks) and didn’t want it to be three for three. “Of course I am. I am just regretting every life decision that led to me being here tonight.” A ghost of a smile played on his lips but his tone hit more sarcastic than joking and that made him wince. “Sorry, I just… don’t feel great.” Very much the truth and she would be well aware that he had suffered inexplicable illnesses the entire time she had known him so it might not be such a surprise to hear.

Mary chuckles at that, taking her cue to finally slide into the seat beside Remus. “Don’t worry,” She says, shaking her head, “I sincerely doubt Emma Vanity will be bothering you again while I’m around. Pretty sure I’m like a repellent for that woman now.” Mary wished she could say there were no hard feelings between her and Emma, but it was rather difficult to completely forgive someone after they had done their very best to ruin her wedding. 

Her lips quirk downward as Remus mentions the fact that he’s not feeling well -- she’d always known him to be someone who fell ill quite easily ( something she’d always chalked up to a poor immune system, nothing she’d ever given any thought beyond that ). “You and me both.” She says, eyes casting about the room to try and spot Reggie -- he always faired much better at these things than she did. “Did you need some air? A drink? Anything I can do?”

Location: Nott Estate Ballroom

Date: October 18, 1986

Starter: Open

Once upon a time Alice had loved gala’s like this. She’d loved nothing more than dressing up, putting on expensive and jewellery. To be honest, a big part of that Alice still loved. She loved being able to dress up, but big galas like this weren’t something she enjoyed that much anymore. Alice much preferred more informal, and cosy gatherings. To be honest the only time she really dressed up these days was when she went on date nights with Frank, and even then she preferred to be cuddled up on the couch with him.

She hadn’t really wanted to come to the Gala tonight. She still struggled with the whole celebration thing, especially when she knew Frank had lost his mother in all of this. Sure, it was great that they weren’t at war anymore, but it has cost a lot. But she was here, mostly because it was expected of them. Luckily Frank’s father was babysitting Neville. There weren’t a lot of people she trusted to babysit her little boy.

The brunette smiled at the familiar face as she took a sip of her champagne. “Beautiful Gala isn’t it?” Kind of anyway. But she could pretend right?

Mary instinctually hums in agreement at the question, tearing her eyes away from the spot on the floor where they had been fixated ( there was a stain on the hardwood, she’d been trying to figure out what it was from, which spell or potion would inevitably be used to get rid of it ), to look at the woman who had spoken.

Alice Longbottom wasn’t someone Mary knew well -- but well enough, she supposed, that they at least could recognise one another. “I suppose so,” She answers softly, glancing around at the ballroom. It was beautiful, she had to admit, though it was so large that she couldn’t help but feel small, out of place. “It’s all for a good cause.”

Location: Nott Estate Ball When: 18th October 1986 Who: Remus && open

There were a lot of reasons why Remus didn’t want to be here tonight. He had never enjoyed these fancy galas even before social events left a sour taste in his mouth. Growing up without a lot meant they were so far out of his comfort zone he might as well be in outer space. Being bitten had left him with a strong dislike for hospitals, which he had only just overcome for the sake of visiting James but still meant the support for St Mungo’s was little incentive for him to want to go, especially when everything else was all wrong. The place it was held, for starters, a gross insult to the victims they claimed to be trying to help. If Remus felt he had any choice in the matter, he would not be here. In fact, he had already made the decision not to go when a ticket he hadn’t bought was dropped in his lap by an owl. He went into the Post Office to try and figure out where it had been supposed to go when Dumbledore found him and he talked in his usual gentile but mysterious way and the next thing Remus knew, he had pocketed the ticket and taken the plain black dress robes Narcissa had bought for him out of their packaging and was going to the gala.

There was something sickening about the fact that he still couldn’t say no when Dumbledore asked him to do something, even if that something was to go to a frivolous party the night after a Full Moon.

He found a quiet, dark corner out of the way where he slumped on the table, head buried into his arms and tried not to think about the fact that he hadn’t slept in forty hours. Hopefully, he could get away with sitting there until enough people had left the event for him to assume that whatever Dumbledore was worried might happen wasn’t going to happen and then he could go back to his doorstep in Knockturn Alley and try to recover from the night before. All too soon, though, he heard someone approach and pull out one of the chairs at his table. “Seat’s taken,” he said, without lifting his head.

Mary wasn’t one for big parties or events like this one. When she was a teenager, she might have been enchanted by the thought of a ball like this, but nowadays she simply found that she was painfully aware of all the people in the room, eyeing each one who came a little too closely with an air of trepidation, but managing to offer a polite smile to every stranger she made eye contact with, making pleasant conversation with anyone who stopped her or Reggie, her husband holding onto her arm, offering his silent support.

The girls were with Reggie’s parents for the night. Usually, Mary wouldn’t bother with such an event, but it was for a good cause, and the lingering guilt that ate away at her for not doing enough during the war told her that this was a chance to make up for it, in at least some small part. Maybe the anonymous donation she scribbles her signature onto would make its way to helping out James Potter -- she could only hope. 

She’s quick to spot Remus sitting alone at one of the tables -- even with his head in his hands she’s able to recognise him, and a sort of primal concern takes hold when she sees him looking utterly miserable. Mary can spot unhappiness when she sees it. She mutters something to Reggie about grabbing some more drinks for them, and, following his wife’s gaze, he nods in understanding, patting her hand as he leaves her to walk over to Remus, a soft smile gracing her lips. 

“You wound me.” She chuckles, though she hesitates, his words making her falter as she awkwardly stands behind the chair she’d pulled out. “Are you okay?”

mary macdonald at the st mungo’s remembrance ball

Lily’s smile became more genuine as Mary approached her. It had been five years since the end of the war, for merlin’s sake –– shouldn’t that be more than enough time for the awkwardness of that last awful fight they had before Mary disappeared during the war to fade? Mary had once been the person that Lily was closest to in the entire world. Would she really let something that happened in the past ruin all of that? It wasn’t like Mary had done what Severus had –– she had just felt differently about fighting than the rest of them.

“Oh, I’m doing well,” she said, pushing away those thoughts and resolving that this conversation would be the start to mending old friendships. “Harry is off with the Weasleys for a sleepover and I have the day off from St. Mungo’s, so I have all this free time on my hands,” she said with a laugh. Free time wasn’t something Lily had often, and she was sure that Mary could relate. She was a mum too, after all. 

“How are you?” Lily tilted her head, feeling curious about what was going on in her old friend’s life. Once upon a time Lily would have known the answer to that already, just by looking at Mary, but the ability to read her former best friend had faded over time. Or maybe they had just both changed to the point of being unrecognizable. 

Lily looked around to see if Reginald or the girls were hovering nearby, and upon not seeing them, an idea struck her. “Any desire to go grab an ice cream come? I have to say that it’s been ages since the last time I popped into Florean’s.” 

Mary felt awkward -- and she hated herself for feeling that way. Lily stood in front of her, a kind smile warming her features, and Mary could almost trick herself into believing that nothing had changed between them -- that the woman who stood before her was the same one who had once been her closest friend, her best confidant, the person she trusted more than anyone else in the world. Almost. 

It was undeniable that things had changed, though. Perhaps Lily was ready to extend an olive branch, to make amends, but it didn’t change what had happened between them. It didn’t stop the way that Mary felt on edge around her former best friend, as though she might say the wrong thing. She felt as though she were walking on eggshells, desperate not to upset Lily and send them tumbling backwards. 

Her lip quirks at the mention of Harry. It seemed like a cruel joke, really, that she and Lily would have children so close in age -- and yet they barely knew each other. She wasn’t even sure if her daughters had met Harry properly. She would have liked them to. “Free time,” Mary repeats with a half-hearted chuckle, “What’s that?”

“I’ve been... well.” She settles on, though it’s close enough to the truth. “Reggie took the girls off to the kids’ area, so I though I’d do some shopping while they were off having fun.” She shrugs, searching Lily’s face as she speaks for... something. The flicker of bitterness she’d come to expect from so many of her former friends when she spoke about her family, who likely wouldn’t exist had she not chosen the path she did during the war. 

“Ice cream?” She repeats, a genuine smile flitting across her face, “I don’t think I’ve been to Florean’s since we were in school,” She laughs, though she’d taken the girls there a couple of times, it had been years since Mary herself had indulged. “Sure, let’s go.” She says without really thinking about it, long-buried instinct taking over.

I’m not lost. That was quite obviously not the case if the girl had no clue where she was going. Sophia practically lived on Knockturn Alley. Her father always wishing for her to be within his sight and she constantly trying to break free of his hold on her. It was perhaps the sole reason she wished for her betrothal to turn into marriage sooner rather than later. While she didn’t care for Walden he would at least get her out of the sight of her father. 

“I’m sure they do.” Those who shopped on this stretch of street didn’t often seem to need things for cleaning. Either too elite to clean themselves or too grimy to care if the things around them are clean. She had never actually heard of the cleaning solution being bought by anyone there. Perhaps by a few people who worked for the elite but that would be it. 

“You’re going the wrong way. It’s actually down that way.” She pointed in the opposite direction thinking to send the girl along on her way and be done with it but she looked sweet. Too sweet. She would find herself in some kind of trouble surely. “I’ll take you so you don’t get lost again.” She meant it to be sweet but also as a reminder than the girl had indeed been lost. 

“Oh.” Mary sighs, pursing her lips. It was probably glaringly obvious that she didn’t spend much time in Knockturn Alley ( and would likely be avoiding it altogether even now, if she did not need to be here ), but she still couldn’t help but pick up on the young woman’s tone. However subtle it may be, the inference that she didn’t belong here was still there -- and it stung. It was a feeling Mary was used to, but not one she would ever be comfortable in. 

If she had a little more pride, perhaps she would have turned down the woman’s offer to take her to Mulpepper’s, but Mary could admit that if she were left on her own again, she likely would spend hours wandering the alley and still not find what she was looking for, or worse. “Thank you.” She settles on instead, offering the young woman a kind smile. There was no use turning down help ( though the thought of being pitied made her stomach turn uncomfortably ).

“I’m Mary,” She introduces herself, extending a hand, “I’m sorry, you probably have better things to do than play chaperone.”

Reggie took the girls to get some ice cream. It was such a… mundane answer. So domestic - traditional. It would almost make Sirius scoff if it weren’t for the fact that he, too, had turned into a family man. At least during the daytime. He’d taken Harry for ice cream more times than he could count. He didn’t know why it made him angry - but perhaps it was just that dumb nickname (Reggie) or maybe the fact that Mary’s cowardice allowed her to have a Reggie.

Lily couldn’t have James because James had lost his mind in the war. 

It made him unfairly annoyed. There was part of him that knew this was an irrational anger, but Sirius had never been good at stepping back and analyzing his own thoughts - or processing where this had come from. Mary was here now - Mary was the problem. 

“I thought your goal was to be always be around them? Surprised you’re trusting them out of your sight,” he said evenly. “Guess the war is over now and everything though. Safe now.” He didn’t want to say this - or maybe he did - but he couldn’t stop it.  Reggie took the girls to get some ice cream. James was as good as dead. “Must be nice for your girls to have a dad.”

Sirius ran a ring-covered hand through his hair. “Do you even care? Why not just walk away now, Mary? Staying might mean conflict and we all know how easy it is for you to run away from that.” 

Perhaps Mary should have known better than to expect a warm reception ( or even a mildly civil one ), but she can’t help but flinch back at Sirius’ words. Despite the constant mantra drumming through her head that she had done the right thing, it still hurts to have her decisions thrown back in her face, to be reminded of everything she had that her friends didn’t, because she’d made the decision to prioritise herself over the cause.

They saw her as selfish, as cowardly -- and perhaps they were right, but part of her ( a buried, angry part ) wants to scream that they haven’t even tried to understand things from her point of view. That after being attacked for simply existing as a muggleborn in a place that was supposed to be safe, Mary didn’t have much fight left in her. That, maybe, if they had done the same, the war wouldn’t have taken so much from them. 

She doesn’t say these things, though. Instead, she casts her eyes down, shaking her head softly and very purposely avoiding Sirius’ gaze. “Of course I care.” She says quietly, “I know you all hate me for not being there, and I don’t know how many times I can say that I’m sorry -- but I’m not going to be made to feel bad that my daughters are safe and happy and still have both of their parents. You don’t get to drag them into this.”

date: 5 october 1982 location: quality quidditch supplies closed for @mcvttermole

It wasn’t often that Minerva got to enjoy wandering around quality quidditch supplies without one of her children badgering her for something they didn’t need. All three of them had inherited her love for the sport, and the elder two had even played on the gryffindor quidditch team during their time at school (one still was), so they were always convinced they needed something else. And the four year old, who wanted to be just like her older siblings, always wanted the latest model of toy brooms. It would be aggravating if Minerva wasn’t so proud.

Still, it was nice to browse at her leisure. It wasn’t as if she needed any supplies – she hadn’t played even in a pickup game since her injury – but she still liked to look at everything. Besides, they were always coming out with new playbooks that she could use to pass on tips to the Gryffindor captains. 

Looking up from one of these books, Minerva’s glance fell on Mary Cattermole. A former student of hers, Minerva couldn’t remember the last time she saw Mary, and she smiled, setting the book down and making her way over to the young woman. “Mary! How lovely to see you!” 

This festival presented a lot of mixed emotions for Mary. On the one hand, it represented the end of the war -- an objectively good thing for herself, her family, and for countless other muggleborns out there just like herself. However, it also served as a stark reminder of how little she had done to contribute to this outcome. Reggie had reminded her on a number of occasions that she didn’t need to hold herself responsible for not doing more -- that putting herself and her unborn daughter at risk wasn’t something that should have been expected of her, that she had done the smart thing by staying out of it. She knew it was the smart thing, but that didn’t make dealing with the fallout any easier.

She hadn’t particularly wanted to attend the festival. Both for the aforementioned reasons, and for the fact that she was terrible in large crowds even at the best of times. There was a time in her life when she would have been enchanted by such an event, but now she was simply on edge the whole time, keeping her eyes open and her senses sharp. She was only here because the girls had been so excited about the event, and, though he tried to disguise it, she could tell that Reggie was, too. So, here she was, against her better judgement but for the enjoyment of her family. Reggie and the girls had gone off to explore while Mary had decided to look around some of the shops. They were all having sales at the moment -- why not take advantage?

Mary had been looking around Quality Quidditch Supplies for a toy broom for Ellie ( she was currently insisting that she would play Quidditch when she was older ) when she heard her name called, instantly turning in the direction of the voice. It only takes her a moment to recognise the woman in front of her -- Professor McGonagall ( or was it Minerva, now that she’d graduated? ). Mary offers the woman a smile in return, waving politely in greeting. “Professor McGonagall,” She says, “Don’t think I’ve seen you since Hogwarts, are you enjoying the festivities?”

Remus had been done with today since yesterday. The crowds which made him feel lonelier than ever, the forced smiles and faked niceties with people he used to know, and all of it to commemorate the end of the war which had become his life and left him with nothing in its wake. When he first saw Mary from across the street, he slipped away in the opposite direction before she or her daughters could notice him. Memories of the war were more difficult around her and if she was enjoying the day with her family, Remus didn’t want to bring her down.

Yet, minutes later when he spotted Reggie and the girls going to the children’s area and no sign of Mary, Remus found himself turning on the spot. In the back of his mind was a revival of old concerns for her, as if the war had never really left him and a muggleborn wandering on her own was cause for worry. The problem was that now he couldn’t see her. He drifted to the edge of the street, trying to avoid the crowds, but it was towards them that his eyes were fixed so he missed the shop door opening right in front of him. “Sorry,” he said, stepping back, face shifting from shock to remorse to relief. “Mary! I thought I saw you here.” He avoided her question of if he was okay and very deliberately did not ask about how she was finding the festivities. “Did you buy anything interesting?”

Mary doesn’t bother to hide the sigh of relief that accompanies the realisation that it had been Remus she’d bumped into. Out of all her friends ( those she had known before the war, at least ) she felt as though her relationship with Remus was as close to normal as was possible. Sure, she knew that he must have his own opinions on her decision not to fight alongside the Order -- they all did, but Remus, at the very least, managed to keep these mostly to himself. Mary wasn’t too sure if it was because he had chosen to forgive her, or because he simply had his own demons to battle and didn’t bother to concern himself with Mary’s indiscretions. 

Whatever it was, she was thankful. While speaking with people from her days at Hogwarts always drummed up buried nostalgia, at least her conversations with Remus weren’t quite as melancholy as they were with many of her former classmates. She had hope, at the very least, that they could move forward from the war, that she didn’t need to be defined by the choices she’d made, and she never wanted Remus to feel defined by his, either. She doesn’t miss the way he avoids her question altogether, but decides not to press the issue any further. 

“Oh, not particularly.” She says, instinctively glancing down into the shopping bag she carried, though she knew perfectly well what was in there. “Just some herbs and things for this dish I want to make... everything’s on sale today, so I figured, why not? No use wasting a good opportunity.” She chuckles, “You know I’m not really one for big festivals like this, so I told Reggie to go have some fun with the girls while I got all of this done.”

Sirius had had enough of this festival. He’d come because why not? but the idea of these things weren’t as appealing without a group of mates surrounding him, ready to cause some shit. Those days were long gone, though. And the reason for this very festival was also the reason his friendships had ended. James’ near-death… Remus’ distrusting gaze… Peter’s cowardliness. If the Marauders were still together, it would’ve meant that this festival never existed.

And, truth be told, Sirius would often give it all up - this warless life of “peace” - for it back again. 

He moved through the crowd - only half an hour before he had to head to the pub to begin the open routines, though it wouldn’t get busy until night hit, as usual. He expected more people than normal during the daylight hours today, however. Singles stopping in for a drink while attending the festival. No parent in their right mind would bring a child to The Flaming Dragon, however. 

He moves rather deftly, pushing through without a problem until - BAM! - someone ran right into him, their head hitting into his chest. It knocked the air out of him, made him stumble and gasp. “What the fu - “ But then he looked up and saw a familiar face, his heart dropping into his stomach.

Mary Macdonald - no Cattermole - a friend from long ago. Someone who Lily still tried to love, despite everything. Someone who had hidden away like a porcelain doll, afraid to be left off the shelf. Sirius’ eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he caught his breath. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve been in a fight before,” he says, the implication clear. His eyes moved around her empty spaces, usually occupied by the family she’d chosen. “You’re alone,” he commented a bit dryly. 

Sirius Black. Whatever Mary’s next words would have been, they become stuck in her throat at the sight of the man in front of her. She knew that Sirius wasn’t particularly fond of her -- and this might have been an understatement -- after the decisions she’d made during the war. They’d been close, once. Sure, they had come to know each other through a mutual friendships with Lily and James, but spending that much time without becoming friends themselves was next to impossible.

Sirius, of all the people she knew back at Hogwarts, was probably the most enthusiastic about fighting in the war. The most passionate about it. So, naturally, it only made sense that he would have been less than thrilled by Mary’s decision not to participate. To hide. He, like many of her former friends, saw the move as cowardly, as selfish. Perhaps they were right, to some degree, but Mary had managed to escape the war with her family in tact, with her daughter unharmed. She wouldn’t trade their safety for anything. 

Though she’d tried to rebuild things with Lily and Remus to varying degrees of success, Mary had little hope to salvage her friendship with Sirius. It didn’t help that he also lived with Lily, stepping into James’ place as Harry’s father figure and reminding her sorely of what her friends had lost while she’d been on the sidelines. She knew he didn’t approve of the way she and Lily were trying to make amends, but if he didn’t want to forgive her, that was his prerogative ( she really wished he would, though ).

She doesn’t miss the jab, but she lets it go. It’s the sort of thing she’s grown used to, unfortunately. If Reggie were here, he’d probably step in and say something, but, as Sirius so kindly points out, he isn’t, and Mary doesn’t care enough to defend herself from things that are true. “Reggie took the girls to get some ice cream.” She offers in way of explanation, chewing on her lip as she tries to decide what to say next, “How have you been, Sirius?” She settles on. It’s innocuous enough, and she really does care to know, though she doubts he cares to tell.

date: 5 october 1986 location: flourish & blotts closed for @mcvttermole

It was odd for Lily to have so much free time to just wander in and out of the shops of Diagon Alley, and especially so to not have Harry hanging on her arm while she did it. Of course, the shops were all massively crowded, but Lily had never minded large crowds of witches and wizards. There was still a little awed muggleborn within her that loved to just watch the eccentricities of the wizarding world. She smiled to herself, remembering the first time she had set foot in Diagon Alley with her parents in tow. As familiar as this world had become, there would always be a bit of nostalgia wrapped up in this place.

Knowing that she wouldn’t last through the whole festival, Lily decided to pop into Flourish and Blotts. Since she had the day off and Harry would be at the Weasleys for the evening, she had time to read for pleasure for the first time in longer than Lily could remember. Thinking of the glass of wine and bar of chocolate that would be waiting for her at home, she picked up her pace, weaving through the crowd and entering the bookshop. 

It was crowded in here as well, but not as badly as some of the other shops, and Lily was able to maneuver through the shelves easily to find the fiction section. Humming to herself, she traced the spines of books with her finger, looking for a title that interested her. People always said not to judge a book by its’ cover, but in Lily’s opinion, a cover could say a lot about what kind of book she was about to get herself into. She had just pulled one that interested her off the shelf when she heard her name sounding from behind her. Turning around, Lily recognized Mary. “Oh, Mary, hi!” 

It wasn’t that Mary hated festivals like this -- she didn’t, she swears -- but to say that she enjoyed them would be quite a stretch. In all honesty, she was only here for her family. Her girls had been buzzing with excitement about the festival all week, and Reggie had been equally as excited ( though he had tried a little harder to hide his enthusiasm, insisting that he only wanted to go if Mary was comfortable with it -- she wasn’t, but she figured she could suck it up for a few hours and let him have some fun, it was the least she could do, after all the sacrifices her husband had made for her ). 

The three of them had run off to buy some ice cream and then have a look at the attractions that had been set up for children, leaving Mary to wander through some of the shops and pick up a few things that she needed -- as well as anything else that happened to catch her eye. It was strange, really, to see people out and celebrating the end of the war. Thinking about it too much dredged up poorly buried guilt which simmered just beneath Mary’s surface, and so she didn’t like to think about it too much.

She had been on her way back to meet up with Reggie and the girls when she passed by Flourish and Blotts -- an involuntary smile tugging at her lips at the sight of the bookstore. She’d always loved it in there, and had even done a stint working there for a little while after graduating Hogwarts. The smell of old books was one that could always be sure to calm her, and in a crowd like this, she decided that was exactly what she needed. She’d been wandering through the aisles for a few minutes when she spotted a familiar head of red hair -- she toyed with the idea of turning tail and heading back out the door, but quickly decided against it. Lily was still her friend, after all, even if it was... awkward.

Things had been tense between her and Lily for a while now. She knew that Lily tried her best to understand where Mary was coming from when she decided not to participate in the fighting, but it was hard for Mary to see how much the war had affected Lily’s life ( taking James from her, most significantly ), while she had just stood back and watched it happen. Objectively, she knows there’s little she could have done about James’ state, but that didn’t stop the guilt... and it didn’t stop her former friends for resenting her for it. “Lily,” She says, approaching the redhead, smiling as Lily turns to greet her. “Hi,” She says in return, shifting her weight from foot to foot, “How are you?”

When: October 5th 1986

Where: Knockturn Alley

Who: Sophia and Open

Sophia wasn’t a fan of the festival that they insisted upon having every year. It brought far too many souls down the twisted street to her father’s shop and she was dreadfully tired of dealing with them all. She decided to leave the employee to deal with them all. It seemed that when a celebration was around that people forgot how to be careful. Forgot they had reason to be careful. Sophia never did. She was never comfortable enough to fully allow her guard to fall. So when a rather innocent looking thing came strolling down the path she couldn’t help but sigh. 

“Are you lost? Diagon Alley is just up this way.” She pointed towards where the laughter and music were filling the street. Such sounds were never heard on this lonely stretch of nothingness. She wondered if they had come here on purpose. Why they had wanted to when they certainly didn’t look as if they belonged in places of such darkness. “Come along and I’ll lead you back.”

“Oh, I’m not lost, sorry.” Mary says, before instantly cringing at her apology over not being lost. It takes her a moment to even register the fact that she’s being spoken to -- she’s not too sure why this woman would immediately assume she was lost. Admittedly, she didn’t look much like the normal clientele of Knockturn Alley, and, usually, avoided this place at all costs. Even today, she wasn’t here out of choice, but rather, necessity. Mr Mulpepper’s on Diagon Alley had been out of the ingredient she was looking for, but the lovely shop attendant had informed her that they were probably still in stock in the Knockturn Alley location ( less people go there, you see, the young woman had informed her, as though it were some well-kept secret that respectable people preferred shopping in Diagon Alley rather than its shadier counterpart.

Mary would be lying if she said that Knockturn Alley didn’t make her uncomfortable. She felt as though she stuck out like a sore thumb against the normal inhabitants of the area, in her brightly-coloured clothes and carrying a shopping bag from the sweets shop on Diagon ( she had just come from there, you see, picking up a few things for her daughters, which would most likely end up being used as bribes in a few days ), and, though she might just be paranoid, she feels as though she can feel eyes boring into her, these people sizing her up, ready to make a move. It sends shivers up and down her spine, and she’s almost thankful when the young woman addresses her, snapping her out of her vision of one of the brutish looking wizards lining the alley pulling out his wand and killing her then and there.

“I’m, um... I’m actually looking for Mr Mulpepper’s Apothecary,” She explains, the grip on her concealed wand loosening as she speaks, “The Diagon Alley store was out of the cleaning solution I like... they said the one down here might still have it.”