a lion still has CLAWS.

here's the truth: a girl is a gun. and between the two, was there ever any difference? mary macdonald. auror. mudblood & proud. dog person. former gryffindor. relentless.

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doris‌:

“ i mean… ” doris had never thought any of it through, not in the slightest. she was sure that when she had joined in for battle, taking a clear side with the order under the agreement it would remain under wraps that it would. now all she could think of was if that list was true and what would happen if the wrong person got their hands on it. “ are we even sure its real? it could all be fake… ”

“maybe it is fake, yeah. but what if the ‘order members’ on that list aren’t order members at all --- just civilians, or something, and the death eaters end up massacring them? whatever or whoever is on that list ... we have to get it,” said mary, having ran through many scenarios already and always coming to the same conclusion. it was the order who had to get that list. 

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remus‌:

       MAN OF DESTRUCTION !      a  monster  who  never  dared  to  mask  the  true  nature  beneath  something  as  weak  as  sheep’s  skin .      you  know  what  you  are,   but  you  don’t  know  just  how  badly  you’re  about  to  validate  the  worst  parts  of  yourself  as  you  peek  through  the  hole  in  the  door .      it’s  a  war,   after  all   —   there’s  no  such  thing  as  too  much  caution  as  irises  so  dark  they’re  almost  black  look  through  the  distorted  glass  to  see  her .      fidgeting,   bouncing  on  the  balls  of  her  feet ;    she  almost  appears  anxious ?      remus  doesn’t  know  what  to  make  of  it,   but  he  opens  the  door  for  her  without  hesitation .      a  smile  dares  to  tug  at  his  lips  but  then   —   we  need  to  talk .      red  flags  begin  waving  in  his  head  and  the  words  are  like  a  neon  sign  blinking  DANGER,   a  perilous  red  at  the  forefront  of  his  mind .      proceed  with  caution,   young  wolf .      but  he  steps  to  the  side  and  opens  the  door  wider  for  her  to  come  in   —   it  was  mary,   what  did  he  have  to  worry  about ?      her  presence  had  always  been  enough  to  bring  him  ease .

         ❝    uh   —   sure .     come  on .    ❞      head  cants  towards  the  empty  sitting  room  beyond  the  doorway  and  long  strides  take  him  to  an  old  couch,   overstuffed  and  riddled  with  stains  darkening  the  fabric .      he’s  the  picture  of  calm  before  the  storm  as  he  leans  back  against  the  couch,   brows  knitting  together  as  he  looks  at  mary  and  dives  straight  to  the  point .      remus  had  never  been  the  type  to  prolong  ripping  off  the  bandaid .      if something  was  wrong,   someone  was  hurt,   he  wanted  to  know .      ❝    so  what’s  up ?      is  something  wrong ?      everyone  okay ?    ❞

mary macdonald is BRAVE. she knows that. it’s something she’s proud of, something she’s build herself back up again from, something that has kept her alive all these years. she gets knocked down and rolls over and gets back up, always. but this isn’t a fight or a duel, this moment doesn’t require the kind of bravery she has plenty of. this is different. how she wishes this could end up with her spitting blood --- that’ll be easier to deal with than whatever pain she is about to instill on both remus and herself.  she feels like a trembling rabbit in front of a car’s headlights, unsure what direction to run off to. why she’s doing this, she doesn’t know until she forces herself to remember daisy’s face at benjy’s funeral again, until she thinks of that list, which could shatter their lives any second. there’s no good time for this, but she also knows time is running out.

“no, no, nothing is wrong, everyone’s fine,” she says quickly, feeling guilt settle in her stomach for worrying remus. she stays standing in his living room, her legs stiff, unable to bend so she can sit. “it’s --- it’s nothing like that.” just say it, just let him know, and then what will happen happens. she runs a hand through her hair, lets out a breath. “i -- uh, i’ve been thinking re, and i just --- FUCK i don’t know how to say this.” she’s never been the most eloquent, especially not in moments like these. she sinks down on a chair, looks at him, wonders how she’s never said it before when it’s so clear. “it’s just, with everything going on ... benjy and sturgis, and now these list rumours,” she begins, her speech scattered. “i’ve been thinking about what’s important and what isn’t and i thought that i knew what that was, but i think i was wrong and ... damn it, i’m making no sense.” she lets out a nervous laugh. some kind of profession of love, this is. “can i make some tea? mostly for me, it --- a cuppa always helps.”

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riley:

Riley leaned in, looking a little confused. “Bed? What is this you speak of?” The redhead joked to the other woman. “I would sleep, but there’s no rest for the wicked and unfortunately I’m the one that has to take care of them.” She pulled her wand out and muttered a short charm before her tea bean to steam again. “Did you just come to say hi or do you need some help?”

“That --- that’s clever. I’m using that, next time someone tells me I should sleep,” said Mary. She supposed that having trouble with getting enough sleep was something she shared with many Order members. How could she not? “Get yourself some coffee, though, yeah? Or more tea, preferably black.” She moved to sit down, then. “Just came to say hi, if that’s alright. How’ve you been?”

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riley:

“Agh!” Riley’s head shot up from the table as it was shaken. She couldn’t tell if it was by someone sitting down or shaking it, but it didn’t matter. “Can’t you let a poor nurse sleep? In a public place? At…eleven-thirty in the morning?” The witch sighed and finally sat up, peeling a piece of hair that had stuck to her face. “My tea’s probably cold now…”

“Have you heard of beds? They’re quite the revolutionary concept ... more comfortable than chairs if you want to sleep, and such,” said Mary, taking a sip from her own cup with a teasing grin. “You should try coffee, if you’re this tired. Still, cold tea’s like one of the WORST things in the world, so I feel for you.”

[raphaelsantigo-deactivated20180]

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knuckles connect to wood and mary immediately wished that she hadn’t. the feeling of dread that had been swirling in her stomach grew, and she almost turned on her heel and left, to apparate back home and forget about this. but she stayed, waiting in front of the closed door anxiously, hoping it was remus ( @moondefined ) who’d open the door, and not one of his roommates. and when it was him who opened the door, she let out a breath of air she hadn’t known she’d been holding. “hey, re,” she said, bouncing on her feet a little, before adding the words no person enjoyed hearing. “we need to talk.” much more she didn’t say, because she couldn’t — her throat felt closed up, and she still thought about leaving, or changing the topic, pretending that she’d come to talk about anything but what she was there for. her mind flashed back to benjy’s funeral, and daisy’s face, and she knew she could not — she could not die without remus knowing the truth, even if it would make everything ten times WORSE. she didn’t know if doing this made her a horribly selfish person, or just human, but mary had long ago accepted that she could not fight this war and be a good person at the same time. apparently that applied to these things now, too.

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lily:

lily  is  grinning  from  ear  to  ear ,  eyes  glancing  back  and  forth  between  her  friend  and  her  baby  . “ now  that  you  mention  it  ,  that  has  to be  it . all  i  know  is  that  those  baby  dolls  i used  to  have  as  a  kid  were totally  misleading .  did  you  ever  play  with  them  ?”  another  thing  she  thoroughly  enjoyed — comparing   their  muggle  childhoods  ,  which  made  their  bond  more  special  than  it  already  was  . that  ,  and  the  conversation  that  seemed  to  flow  so  easily  between  them  . “ yeah  ,  mar  .  you’re  really  the  calmest  person  i  know  . guess  harry isn’t  able  to  detect  that  fire just  yet  .” words  drip  with  sarcasm  as  she  sits  up  slowly  , concentration  now  centered  around  little  harry  . she’s extra  careful  when  she  lifts  him  into  her  arms  again  ( still getting the  hang  of  it  herself ) and  passes  him  along  to  mary . “  here  he  is  .”

“are you admitting that you cheated on james with a midget, then? or, well, i suppose he’s ... pretty short, so maybe it’s just genes.” she let out a soft chuckle, before nodding. “i did, yes! not that much, though --- i was more an outside kid, but i had periods where i’d drag my doll around everywhere. she got pretty muddy.” lily knew her so well ... it was almost terrifying. there wasn’t much between them that seemed to be kept secret -- even if things went unspoken -- and it was what made mary feel so good when she was around the other. and to see her now, as a mother, she felt proud as well, constantly beaming as she looked at lily. “oi, it’s not like you and james are the most relaxed people in this world, either!” mary took harry with great carefulness, looking down on his face with a wide smile. “i can’t believe you ... made this, lil.” her voice was a bit smaller, then, hiding all the fears she had for harry. “he’s glorious.”

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flashback; sixth year.

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marlene‌:

by instinct, one sunkissed arm wrapping around younger friends waist. pulling her closer so lips can press to the top of her head. such tender affectionate gesture only reserved for those friends marlene kept close to her heart. mary had grown on her, from scottish slang passed in the common room to small inside jokes that few understood. ❝ don’t remind me !! ❞ she exclaims as if she has been reminded of something horrible. arm formerly wrapped around mary’s waist releasing her friend and pushing her away from her. pillow grabbed to be put over her head as yesterday’s festivities make themselves very reminded. BUT, then mary tells of adventures and curious eyes peek out from underneath the pillow. ❝ spill. right this second. or i will forget you the second i graduate !! ❞

hungovers are a little less bad when spent with marlene. of course her head still aches and her stomach still feels a bit iffy, but she’s less focused on it when gossiping with the other. giggles and whispers are a cure to her aches as painkillers are. “wow, harsh much?,” says mary, a wide grin curling her lips. as if she would keep her adventures from marlene. “quite a SERIOUS THREAT. doesn’t really motivate me to spill at all.” that the threat is nonsense is quite clear to them both: mary cannot imagine not being friends with marlene. she rolls on her stomach, eyes blinking up to her friend, grin still playing on her lips as she stays quiet for a while. “but fine, i shall indulge your needs, but only because i’ve been wanting to talk about it. ask away.”

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leo:

a bright smile colored his lips, as half of him had expected rejection. we should make an habit out of it. leonardo stretched his hand towards her, waiting for it to be shaken and seal the agreement. beneath that scene, so pure and simple, so kinda and pious, laid a conflicting thought. this was the scenario his parents would weep over. their prestigious pureblooded son, shaking the hand of a dirty mudblood. a low class one even. finding some form of deep connection with her, something in common between their wildly different worlds. but it was also something that, taken all the social prejudices, would make them quite happy. leonardo openly reaching for faith, and not doing it alone. finding someone as in need of a word from god and praying with them - isn’t that what they always wanted ? for him to be more religious ? “ thank you. “ he wasn’t quite sure what he was thanking her for. the honesty, perhaps, or the offer, or simply the fact that she understood. 

she took his hand and shook it, knowing that it was more than what it appeared to be. of course it was --- in times of war, religion was always a heavy weighing thing, and then there were their different backgrounds as well as the fact that the church looked at witchcraft as a sin. praying wasn’t as easy as it had once been, but it was still easy. you clasped your hands together and closed your eyes and that was it. it were still the same actions, it was still the same god you prayed to. it was harder, but still as easy had it once been, and to do it with someone else would make it only easier. “no, thank you,” she said, because it was leo who’d brought up the idea. “really.” she wasn’t sure what else she could do or say to express her gratitude, especially with the oncoming mission nagging in the back of her mind. “d’you want to do it today?”

[dailyladylyrics]

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flashback; sixth year.

she’s curled up in marlene’s ( @mxrlcne ) bed, a pillow under her head, legs pulled up. she feels most safe here, with one of her closest friends so near and the rest of the world so far away. these are the moments of quiet she craves, her soul still somewhat raw, even if it’s recovered quite a lot. she’s braver. a bit more back to who she was before. “i can’t believe you’re not going to be here next year,” she says, murmurs. “who will i talk to about my nightly adventures, then, huh?” a giggle. “oh, shit --- i don’t even think i’ve told you about my night with sophie macmillan, or did i?”

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“and i have a present for you too, of course,” said mary, after having given james ( @defeatsdeath ) multiple presents for harry. she’d brought a stuffed animal back at the hospital, but it hadn’t felt like enough --- harry was a miracle, of some sorts, and he deserved more than just one stuffed animal. she dug in her bag for a moment, before pulling out a small package, holding a rather horrid tie. “this is key to being a dad, after all. c’mon, open it up.” a grin on her lips. “how’s harry been? not crying too much, i hope?”

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ted:

ted’s eyes shifted from the large clock on horrid emerald wall to his watch - just checking the time was accurate down to the minute. a bag slung over his shoulder, a daily prophet wrapped up in his hand and then it was three o’clock. home time. the best time in his opinion. after making it onto the high street, into the fresh air after leaving the ministry, he fumbled in his pockets for a cigarette, placing it between his lips and ‘-oi, mate, sorry, do y’ have a lighter, i’ve misplaced mine…’ he internally cursed not being able to use his wand in a over crowded London street and never quite mastered a toned down version of incendio that didn’t set the place alight.

mary had thirty minutes before she had to be at headquarters for a strategy meeting, and her shift had just ended. she needed three things: something sweet to eat, a big cup of coffee to drink and a cigarette.the plan was to get those three things in that exact order, but then ted tonks’ voice piped up, and she changed her mind. “of course,” she said, giving the other a smile before digging in her bag for a second and pulling out a lighter and her own pack of smokes. she handed him the former, put a cigarette between her lips and let it wiggle as she asked, “survived your day at the office, then?”

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leo:

it felt unusual, to be asking to see that far deep into someone else, to breach their limits and their walls, to ASK. yet there’d been similar moments with mary before, in which they unveilled their sins and their thoughts on the very concept - htye UNDERSTOOD the problems and the questions. if anything, talking with mary about it made him feel a little less lonely. “ when i see you all go, i still pray. sometimes. trying to make myself useful i guess. doesn’t seem to do much. “ there was a hint of bitterness in his voice. people came back injured. people came back dead. “ but we who stay don’t have many options to pick from. “ a tiny reassuring smile was sent her way. god, she was so brave. so much more than him. “ if you… if you ever want to have a quiet moment with the upstairs before leaving, i’d very much enjoy doing it with you. “” there it was. yet another way to take away the loneliness, to give her the strength she’d need when her comrades fell around her, when she found herself alone in battle like the good soldier she was. when he waited around cursing himself for being so useless. in that, they could still find some comfort, he hoped. 

there were so many things from her life before magic that mary failed to reconnect with. she barely saw her family these days, out of fear of bringing them in danger if she visited, out of fear of showing them all the ways she had changed. she was no longer the girl running around with muddy shoes and wide grins and cows surrounding her. she was a hardened person, with a scarred skin and charred insides. the only thing she kept coming back to was god, was muttering the same words over and over again, was folding her hands before she went to bed and closing her eyes. and even that had changed --- she didn’t ask for healthy calfs or for grandpa to recover any more. she asked why, why, why, and for her friends and family to be safe from remorseless people who would kill her without thinking twice. but she still prayed. “that would be nice,” she said eventually, returning to leo and their conversation, rather than her thoughts. “we should make a habit out of it. i mostly pray alone these days and ... i never used to, when i was younger.” there was always her father, leading the prayer before, with his deep voice, and she and all her siblings saying amen after. “and i don’t think it’s ... about it helping. it’s about continuing to do it, i guess.”

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seraphina‌:

she knew it’d happen one day. someone would, for a reason she couldn’t comprehend, take interest in the disappearing and dead muggles near selwyn estates and investigate - they’d get nothing out of her. at least, nothing they could use against her in front of the wizengamot. seraphina saw the young woman get nearer through a window, and half of her wished to rush outside and give her a tour, linger around in the places where curious eyes and hands had wandered too far in, the other was still, regal, untouched. with a flick of her wand, the gate opened, and a house elf rushed to the main door, also wide and waiting for mary, but it was dark inside the entry hall. it was as if she was being invited into her own demise. something eerie in the air. seraphina stayed in the sitting room, reviewing some sheets of parchment, tea by her side, simply waiting on the auror. 

mary didn’t shy away from risk, not any more. there had been a time where she’d tiptoed through life with caution in her soul, but war had hardened her and brought back her courage. she was desperation itself, ready to do whatever it took to saw some kind of change. to face a woman like seraphina selwyn, an outspoken blood purist, on her own was a risk, even if she was doing it on the job. she didn’t care. she was risking her life by breathing, by being, and it was because of people like her that it was that way. and still, as a house elf guided her over the grounds, through the estate, mary wondered if she should have brought back-up. she shook off her nerves, straightened her robes, and plastered on a polite smile as she entered the living room. “miss selwyn,” she said, extending her hand for the other to shake. “i’m mary macdonald, and i’m here on behalf of the auror office.” she flashed her badge with her free hand. “i was wondering if i could ask you a few questions?”

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bellatrix‌:

“ and what would we need you for? we already have pets, “ she replies, a sour boredom seeping into her voice, tainting her words with a particularly nasty type of poison. she doesn’t feel restricted to the same set of rules that mary seems to play by — because if there is anything that bellatrix knows, it’s that this place is run by them. their blood is running through the very core of the ministry, through every department, through every office. the other side may not know it, but the ministry’s heart and soul is just as dark as she is. if not more so. disinterest shifts in her gaze, hinting at the emptiness inside. there’s no fire today, no rage boiling right below the surface. but perhaps her patience, her coldness, is scarier, more dangerous? perhaps it’s because this is a conversation she has had before, one that has only ended in death, misery and estranged sisters. she knows how this story plays out. so there’s a calmness to her demeanor, a softness in her voice, an almost kindness in her smile. “ we’ll see who’s right, when judgement day comes. “

“say you murder us all. then what?,” she asked, her voice calm despite the words she was saying. mary had thought of the reality where the death eaters won and people like her would cease to exist, eradicated by twisted ideologies and feelings of superiority. it was a scary prospect, one that filled her up with sickening dread, but one that she could talk calmly about, should it be needed. she wasn’t going to show bellatrix her fear. she barely showed it to herself, after all. “you’ll just go extinct. the wizarding community will grow smaller and smaller until it is GONE.” she didn’t say more, even though she had more words lying on the tip of her tongue. they would be wasted, if spent on the likes of bellatrix lestrange --- someone so stuck in her ways, that the only real fight mary could have with her was with a wand in her hand. that day would come -- or so she hoped, at least -- but it wasn’t today. right now, all she could do was focus on ignoring the itching of her hands and the rage she felt at being compared to a pet. “oh, i know who’s right ... i don’t need some kind of ‘judgement day’ in order to realise that.”

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lily‌:

— › CLOSED STARTER : @macdvnald

“ i still can’t  get  over  how  small  he  is  .”  she  admits  ,  peering  down  at  the   baby  lying  on the  bed  between   them  . one  of   his  tiny  fists  is  wrapped  around   lily’s  finger  ,  eyes  peering   up  at  the  two  women  .  there  have  many  different  visitors  in  out of  the  potter’s    hospital  room  that  afternoon  ,  but  mary’s  was  one  of  the  most  anticipated  ,  partly  because  she  knows  she  doesn’t  have to  put up  a  front  around  her  .  it  was  okay  to not   cover  up  the  exhaustion  or  slightly  uneasiness  she  was  feeling  ,  partly  because  she  knew  she  would  understand  .  she  always  HAD .  the  fact  that  harry  wasn’t  fussing  definitely  helped  calm  some  of  her  nerves  too .  “ i  also   think  this  is  the  quietest  he’s  been  all  day   .   you  must  be  some  sort  of  baby  whisperer  .”  relief  filled  eyes  meet  her  friend’s    briefly  before  they  eventually  trail back  to  her  son  .   “  do  you  want  to hold him  ?”

mary was beaming as she looked down upon harry, unable to tear away her gaze from his tiny fingers as lily spoke. “are you sure he’s not a midget?,” she asked, finally looking up to meet lily’s eyes. she was so proud of the other, for making it through this pregnancy, for doing this, for her bravery. to have a child in these times was dangerous and scary, and here lily was, doing it. mary was absolutely certain that she and james would make the most wonderful parents, too. “oh, i guess i kind of am. when my sister was just a little baby, i was the best at calming her. what can i say? i am just a very calm presence.”  that was far from true -- mary was more hurricane than breeze, on most days -- but in that moment, she felt at peace. “oh, yes --- i would love to.”