Mary MacDonald

Mary had been planning to catch up with Lily later in the day when she was less taken up by the potions demonstrations but she had been a little over-excited when she saw a Fortescue’s stand selling earl grey ice cream and had bought it before it occurred to her that ice cream wasn’t something she could just save for later. Even Fortescue’s never-melting ice cream that lasted longer than most. It wasn’t like she could pop it in her purse while she looked at what else the festival had to offer. So, she waded through the crowds with a few anxious looks around that made her regret deciding to do this without the back up of any of their other friends to find Lily.

who: andromeda & @missmary​ when: february 28th, 1983 where: oxford magic library

Andromeda always existed in shades of grey, finding the duality of “right” and “wrong” to be subjective on the best of days and downright meaningless on others. She knew, logically, that she should feel guilty about her even looking into the art of occlumency, and how to educate her ten year old child how to protect her mind with aforementioned form of magic. She went back and forth on if she should be concerned about the borderline illegality of this violation of privacy - of course, occlumency actually protects from breeches of privacy, but occlumency rarely exists without its foil.

She should talk to Ted about this before she so much as considers it; though, she’s certain that furthering her already extensive research on the topic would be enough to scare her off of involving Dora in anything of the sort. She should feel guilty about considering this at all. She should be worried that she doesn’t feel much, if any remorse about crossing moral boundaries to insure the protection of her child. 

Regardless of the emotional reaction that she should have, she marched into the Oxford Magic Library, armed with parchment and pen (so painfully muggle she can hear her mother’s berating comments a decade later). She’s familiar with many of the research assistants, having commissioned them before for her research at the Ministry. Spotting one she’s unfamiliar with, and therefore would ask less questions about the oddity of her inquiries. 

“Excuse me,” she said, her voice soft and quiet. “Terribly sorry to bother you, but are you able to direct me to any research regarding childhood development and mind magic? An odd request, I know,” she tuts out a laugh, the sound managing to sound serene. 

While most of her time these days was spent in her little office in the library doing her own work and research, Mary had started her days there as a library assistant and she still liked to help out when staffing was short or her work particularly slow. She had finished a big research paper the week before and was waiting on peer reviews before she took on anything else quite so time-consuming. All she had on her plate for today was sending the Chocolate Frog Company a shortlist of suggestions for their next historical figure card, due to be released in the summer. She already had her ideas, though, so she had gratefully filled in when the Head librarian told her that there had been a sick call.

Mostly, Mary stuck to the History section because that was her expertise if anybody were to have any questions but she ventured out a little. It was necessary when there were books which needed tidying away. 

Gilderoy was in desperate need of a holiday. And, since Ambrose was going to be gone for two weeks, what better time than now? Frankly, Gilderoy was missing his muggle life lately. Having magic was nice, but sometimes it was even better to be able to take a break and escape everything. He’d sent Mary an owl explaining to pack her bags, but of course, as vague as he had been, he was sure that she would want more of an explanation. Deciding to explain himself in person, Gilderoy grabbed his luggage that he’d already packed, and headed to her flat. Waiting for her to answer the door, Gil had sat his case down, leaning against it patiently. 

“I was starting to think perhaps you didn’t think I was serious,” he teased with a grin when she finally greeted him. “Did you get my letter?”

Mary was glad to get an owl from Gilderoy but to say she was confused by the directive to pack her bags was putting it lightly. However much she had questioned her House in the later years of school, she was still a Gryffindor and she could be impulsive but these days it generally came with a side of caution. There were too many things to consider before she could let herself run wild. Not only that but she figured he meant to get away somewhere and that was okay because she had a long weekend anyway, the only problem was she didn’t know where. It was comfortably enough Spring that she doubted she needed to pack thermals and salopettes but both the sensible voice of her mother in her ear and the influence of having spent the first eighteen years of life in Scottish mountains made her put several warm jumpers in her bag before it occurred to her that it would be very possible for them to go to the Mediterranean coast where it would be shorts weather by now. Frustrated, Mary grabbed a notebook and tore a page from it to write a note back to him. She was just turning around and cursing the owl for having already flown away when there was a knock at the door.

“Well, I did, and I definitely thought you were serious but where are we going? Because I at least need to know if I need the turtleneck jumpers and walking boots or the shorts and sandals.” She paused for a moment before remembering he had only just got there. “Hi, it’s good to see you. I hope you’re okay? This is all very Gryffindor of you.”

Isaac wanted to hate himself for it. To feel disgusted at himself for it. But how can you hate a whole for its missing part? Can Isaac hate himself when he genuinely believes that he’s no longer the person who was forced to commit such an act? He felt himself shrink, but was it due to his shame, or was he simply mirroring Mary in front of him? “I see. I don’t know if that makes it sound better or worse.” He immediately found the answer to that as Mary continued to explain. To move only because you were persuaded that the only thing worth doing is moving. To act only because you were compelled that nothing else was mattered in the world but committing that act. At least, simply being forced to do something allows you the freedom to still hate the act as you’re doing it. But for that to be taken from you as well? What could possibly be more sinister? Isaac turned to stare at Rosalind’s gravestone. “I’m glad I don’t remember,”  he finally admitted for the very first time. “I think… I don’t ever want to remember.” He faced Rosalind’s friend once again. “Do you think that’s selfish of me?”

Mary looked up at him, forcing herself to meet his eyes even though it caused a stab of pain to shoot through her heart and talking about something she had never talked about before made her feel queasy. “I’m glad you don’t remember, too. I wish I didn’t. I think that’s why they never did take the memory from me, even though with some people I know they did to protect their identities but me... They knew with me the memory of it would just keep the torture alive. I don’t know if it’s selfish to not want to remember but... Well, if it is, I’m selfish too so I can hardly blame you.”

It was absolutely ludicrous to her how separate the muggle and wizarding worlds were. Not that she was about to go out and break the statute any time soon, but it also felt so bloody ridiculous that they had no clue of each other. Wizarding politics effected Muggles lives, were currently affecting their lives, and they had no idea. “I s’pose that makes sense,” she said with a sigh. “I wish more of us cared about these sorts of things, y’know? It’s quite easy to lose half of the world without it.” Truly, it was a reason why Marlowe had gone on her trip right after school. There was so much of the world still dangling in front of her, both wizarding and muggle alike. She needed to see it. Preferably on the back of a dragon, who was also her best friend, but she would take apparating too. “Y’know, I feel lucky the keeper didn’t bite my head off. I was already asking a million questions that she probably… thought were strange. Shocked she even sold me the clicker.”

The show continued, and Marlowe’s mouth slowly closed from the astonishment. “This is like.. this is quite the thing,” she said, shaking her head in bewilderment. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love it. It’s ridiculous, but I love it. Reminds me of old timey theatre but… with cars and pictures and I might be able to watch it again. Brilliant truly.” Marlowe looked over at Mary, even more excited at the prospect of a sing a long showing. “They do what? Oh, blimey, well now I’ve got to learn the songs and we have to go. Have to! This is not an option.” She was teasing, but truly, she hoped Mary would be willing to go with her. Now that this whole genre was opened up to her, she didn’t quite want to leave.  

“Oh my goodness, you purebloods,” Mary said with a thread of fondness running through her voice. There were a lot of people she didn’t feel like she could tease in that way but James, Sirius and Marlowe between them had helped her relax more into herself, enough to be able to poke fun at the aspects where they were ignorant about the Muggle World. “It makes me think Muggle Studies should be mandatory for anyone who didn’t grow up with it, actually, else how are you supposed to keep the Statute of Secrecy? They’re bound to start getting suspicious if you’re asking questions about things most muggles consider common knowledge. Next time you decide to make a big electrical purchase, you should take me with you. You’re lucky you got an aerial. They don’t always include them.”

It was utterly delightful, to the point where Mary almost found herself watching Marlowe more than the film. “Just wait until I can get a copy of Rocky Horror for you to watch.” If she thought this was ridiculous, Mary could have a lot of fun with some of the other musical films around. “We definitely should. You don’t even have to stress about trying to learn them by heart before. We’ll go to one where they put the words to the songs along the bottom of the screen.”

“Oh, such fighting words,” he said as he put a hand to his chest. “After we’ve all been through together, is that really how you want to speak to me?” He knew that Mary wasn’t being serious and that he could be daft sometimes, but he loved the theatrics. He nodded. “I get a lot of time with Harry and that’s the best part of it.”

“Only the best for those I love,” he said with a smirk as he turned out of the alley and back towards the bar. “I like this place,” he said. “It doesn’t bother me that they check. I’ve got it figured out at this point.” He thought for a moment. It would help if he ever had to use polyjuice to turn himself into Mary, but he couldn’t figure out why he would have to do that in the first place. “I’m sure I can figure something out.”

“After all we’ve been through, I can’t lie to you. You’ll just always be an idiot to me.” Mary hooked her arm around Sirius’ elbow, in part to keep that little bit closer to him as they walked and in part out of the need to feel a little more protected. She might feel safer in the Muggle World than she did in the Wizarding one but it didn’t mean her anxieties could disappear completely, just like she still wouldn’t drink at the disco they were headed for and just as she was nervous about the prospect of accidentally getting separated from Sirius and finding herself alone amongst a group of drunks.

tw: discussion of self-harm & suicide attempt

Isaac’s instinct told him that he should approach her. Or hold her. Make sure that she remains upright. If how her body was shaking was any indication, it looked like she could collapse at any moment. But Isaac remained rooted in place. He didn’t know where his hesitation was rooted from. Perversion? Anticipation? Or the fact that nobody has really held him since he got out, so why would he offer the same thing to someone who looked like they needed it?

He was expecting Mary to recount the violence they made her do to someone else. He wasn’t expecting to hear how they made her enact violence upon herself. Isaac looked away. The shame he was expecting to be alleviated once she shared her own only magnified ten-fold. “Oh.” He could apologize but he didn’t see what good it would do so he just shut up. “I see.” Isaac learned enough. “I’ve read somewhere that it’s supposed to feel good. While we were cursed. So did it?”

For a moment, Mary only focused on her breathing. Luckily, Isaac didn’t push her, though. He just changed the topic to something that wasn’t easy to talk about but at least was better than the one they had been skirting around. “Yes. It’s like a huge wash of calm and... and elation.” She wrapped her arms around her body and looked down at her feet to avoid his reaction. She had always avoided talking about the effects of the curse with her friends out of dread of being judged for talking about it in such a positive way but there was no way to describe the feeling except positive as that was how it felt at the time. It was only afterwards, waking up, that the negative feelings of a lack of autonomy started to settle in.

It was so delightfully easy to get her way, to move others around like chess pieces, convincing them that their actions were their own and not exactly what she wanted them to do.  She thought that Mary would be the bigger issue, that she’d, at least try, to tell her sister who Freya was.  But it had taken barely no effort for her to cave, for her to crawl off to the side like a frightened puppy.  And she knew that it wasn’t something that Mary could double back on later.  She had both Sorcha and Mary where she wanted them, and now it was nearing time for her to decide exactly what she wanted to do with her prizes.

“If you’re sure,” she offered kindly.  “I’ve got a whole collection at home, and Sorcha and I could do a scary one around my place next time.  But if you don’t mind I’d love to get a bit of a fright.”  She was sure the Muggles wouldn’t have been able to create something that would genuinely scare her.  “Oh, I’m auditing a few classes, and attending all the public lectures I can.”  That much was true enough, even if it wasn’t official.  It had been easy to confund the lecturers to allow her a seat.  “I am woefully indecisive and have no idea what I’d like to do.  What about you?”  

Just tonight. That’s what Mary vowed to tell herself from that moment on. It was just one evening, one film and perhaps she could find some reason to go home instead of staying around Freya for any longer. And hopefully it would be another few years before they saw each other again.

She was torn, however. On the one hand was her curiosity over whether Freya really did have a whole collection of horror movies and if Sorcha had been around to her home before and if so if it really was Freya’s home she had been to. After all, she might be a muggle but Sorcha had also grown up with wizarding grandparents and knew how to spot the signs that a place housed someone with magic. On the other hand was the instinctive reaction against the idea of Sorcha being alone with Freya. She had to watch it now, not just because her sister was already laying out options on the floor, but because if she didn’t then it would give them a reason to meet up without Mary there again. Even if logically she knew they had been for ages already and would again without a doubt, she wasn’t going to provide the reason for such a meeting.

“What a shame, that you can’t decide. Which lectures have you liked?” She gave a close-lipped smile, something that was almost a grimace but trying to look interested in Freya’s supposed ventures in Muggle education. “Oh, no, I’m not a student. I’m a Research Historian with a focus on Sub-Roman Britain.” It wasn’t even a lie. The fact that her focus was Sub-Roman Wizarding Britain was neither here nor there. Back then, they weren’t all that separated anyway. “Don’t get her started on History. What do we think?” Sorcha asked, picking out the films she had decided had the best potential. “The classic—” Psycho “—that prom scene—” Carrie “—or The Wicker Man?” Mary only shrugged. She would hate any of them, she was pretty sure.

She was immensely glad that she had been paired with Mary in her first few weeks in this city.  It was difficult for her to find the confidence that she needed to venture out into the world and see the things that she wanted to see on her own; it was especially true in the magical world, because if she saw someone that she knew or that she worked with, it was always wildly uncomfortable when they tried to join her out of pity.  She didn’t mind doing things on her own.  It was the eyes of other people that made it difficult.  

But Mary liked to do all of the things she did, and she was more than happy to introduce Lena to all the history related and touristy spots that she never would have been brave enough to visit on her own.  “Natural history,” she echoed, her small smile growing at the thought.  Museums were her favorite.  There was something about having so many objects telling so many stories under one roof that excited her.  “Dinosaur?  Oh, we’ll have to start there.”  She had read about dinosaurs, but she had never visited somewhere with actual bones.  “That’s amazing, how do they even find them?  Are there signs that tell them where to dig?  We could be walking right over dinosaur bones right now.”  She looked down at the sidewalk.  “Probably not, but we could be.”

“Don’t worry, the dinosaur is always the place to start. He’s also right by the entrance so that helps.” Mary nodded with an enthusiasm few saw nowadays. Of all the people who didn’t share the Gryffindor common room with her for seven years, Lena probably saw it more than anyone. That was possible when she used their days out as a chance to forget the shite of life and just enjoy playing tourists. Plus, while History hadn’t actually been her favourite subject or the career she expected to go down until she realized her lack of other options, she had spent long enough in the sector to know a fair bit about it and be able to feel reasonably passionate about historical discovery.

“A few. They can make educated guesses on where to dig based on the lay of the land. Near water sources and hills, for example. Sometimes it’s simply that someone wants to build on the land so archaeologists excavate it first to make sure that nothing important is going to get covered in concrete. Then if they find something interesting, they might work in the surrounding areas for a bit. There’s some newer scientific methods for checking an area to see if it’s likely to have fossils in, now, but I don’t know much about them. There are similar spells, too, for Wizarding archaeologists, but they tend to focus on seeing if there’s any dormant magical energy in the place.” As she talked, she led the way with relative ease into Muggle London and towards the closest tube station.