tiny dancer.

@marycontrary — Getting married is so weird like "I fancy you sooo much I'll change my name so we can be matching xx" who came up with that

[marymacdonaldhadafarm]

dated 9 December, 1980

Marlene 💙: If it was me who had died, it's what I would want you to do.

Marlene 💙: They don't have pink 😫 😫 😫

Marlene 💙: nvm. Do you want hot pink or tickle me?

Mary❣️: I don't feel very tickled today I don't think, we'd better stick to the pink. Door's unlocked!

~ Le Fin ~

[marymacdonaldhadafarm]

missmollybwease​:

“I don’t think that’s rude,” Molly said thinking it was an entirely fair question. “Especially not coming from someone who had lived in both worlds.” Molly thought about the question. “Magic helps immensely, but just because we have it doesn’t mean that it’s the solution for everything, isn’t that right, Bill,” Molly said with a soft smile. “Thas wight, Mumma.” He said happily, handing Mary their next ingredient. “It’s still important to teach them how to do things for themselves, especially before they have their wands. So we use a nice balance of magic and good old-fashioned hard work to pick up after ourselves and do everyday things.”

.

Mary marveled at how effortlessly good at being a mother Molly was. “And then I suppose it has its own challenges.” Mary raised her brows, communicating ideas with Molly that were best kept out of a rambunctious child’s mind, especially at the holidays when sugar was in no short order. “Raising kids who can do magic too, that is.” Havoc was more like it. As if children didn’t get into enough without wands and magic making it easier. 

[marymacdonaldhadafarm]

missmollybwease​:

Mary’s laugh had always been infectious, a sound that just brought happiness to the whole room. Molly was happy to have it in The Burrow, happy to have her. With so much going on in the outside world, now more than ever, Molly loved having her people with her, knowing they were safe within the wards of the Burrow. Within the walls of the home she and Arthur had built for their ever growing family, and that didn’t just mean little Weasley’s.

As Bill happily went from counter to cupboard, getting things for Mary, Molly thought about her answer. “I’ve always been interested in kitchen affairs.” Molly said, remembering her childhood. “Though with most things, it’s a lot of trial and error. I’ve always known I wanted a big family.” She resisted the urge to touch her stomach. She didn’t know for sure and it would be of no use to dwell. 

“As for running the house. It’s mostly just nonstop picking up after the boys.” She laughed. It was the truth of it.

.

“I’m sure magic helps loads though,” Mary thought aloud, reaching for a bowl and a whisk (she had to covertly search ‘what does a whisk look like’ on her iFlown when no one was looking). “Or, is that rude to assume? It feels rude to assume. I just remember my grandparents looking very tired when they’d have to pick up after me. I wonder if it would’ve helped them to know a spell that would do it for them.”

[marymacdonaldhadafarm]

dated 9 December, 1980

sad doc noises: 😢

Marlene 💙: Yes. Anything else?

Marlene 💙: What about snacks?

Marlene 💙: What about us? Do we want anything?

Mary❣️: chocolate. always chocolate.

Mary❣️: and... i think i want a cigarette. one of those long pink ones. it just feels like the thing to do in the moment you know?

[marymacdonaldhadafarm]

clementinerobards​:

“Stupid? No.” It might seem so to some, but to Clem, who knew Mary, it wasn’t. “Dangerous? Yes.” Whatever Asher’s role had been, he had had one. And one that was enough to make Mary very cross with him, to seek him out in anger, and then to need to forgive. It was strange rewriting all you thought you knew about somebody, but, then, Clem had only ever known Asher very superficially. It was terrifying though to think that some people could appear so nice, so normal. A reminder that so many people could be walking around, hiding their darkness. “If you’re going to do it, which I’m positive you are, you’ll stick to a public place, won’t you?” If she couldn’t stop Mary, and no one could do that once she had set her mind to something, then she could at least plead with her to protect herself. 

.

"Don’t worry,” she laughed, “that’s the first rule in the stripper handbook.”

~ Le Fin ~

[marymacdonaldhadafarm]

clementinerobards​:

Clem too took a shot and ate it, the burn of vodka strong. She had another. And then a third, because still she didn’t really have an answer for Mary. Or possibly not a satisfactory one. She leant against the kitchen counter and finally said, “I don’t think it means anything, except that life is just— weird. I think we want these things to mean something so we search for it, the meaning, or we try to subscribe one when there isn’t one readily apparent because it makes our hurt less if it means something, that pain, that suffering, it was worth it somehow, in the end?” Clem said this like a question. “In reality, I think you’re a good person Mary, so where most people might walk past a woman struggling in the street without note, you stopped to help. And it means even when you knew whose mother it was, you still wanted to help instead of passing the buck. And I think you’d have done both those things if your mother had died or not.” 

She had another shot. Four in quick succession, but it was Christmas nearly. “I wish I could offer you something more profound, but that’s what I think.” 

.

Mary wasn’t sure what it was she’d wanted to hear Clem say. In fact, she wasn’t sure it hadn’t been exactly what Clem had said. She still felt just as confused though, just as unsatisfied. Mary sucked her teeth and hmphed thoughtfully. “I can live with that, I think.” She’d taken her time to decide so. “Being a nice person.” She didn’t always feel it, she didn’t always act it either, but Clem was right. She was nice, even if sometimes she had to try at it. Especially because sometimes she had to try at it. 

“I think I’d like to see her again. That’s not stupid, is it? Dangerous?” It was probably both; unfortunately she was going to do it anyway because of who she was as a person. 

[marymacdonaldhadafarm]

clementinerobards​:

Clem caught the question as she came back, Mary’s wand in hand. “You were right about those cushions. Buggers, aren’t they?” She stared after that, a little dumbfounded, at the utensils in Mary’s hand. “Logistically?” she repeated, as though she couldn’t quite understand the question. She walked forwards, Mary’s wand set aside, and took the utensils from her hand, settling one in each of hers. “Logistically, I’d use each of my hands.” 

.

"Oh." Well, of course. "That makes more sense." Mary took her wand with a thanks, and turned it at last on the Jell-O shots. She thought finally being able to tear into them would distract her from that question that still wriggled unanswered inside her, and for a moment it did. But it was fleeting.

[marymacdonaldhadafarm]

clementinerobards​:

The many sips of tequila Clem had consumed had made her stupid. “If only I had a wand, then I could summon yours.” She punctuated this poor observation with a twist of her wrist, imaginary wand in hand, and then snorted, collapsing into giggles. “Wait, wait. If I had my wand, we wouldn’t need yours.” Through her laughter, Clem left the room to search for Mary’s wand in the couch cushions. At least this endeavour gave her time to think about what Mary had said and decide how she might respond. 

.

“Logistically,” Mary wanted to know, “how would you hold two wands?” She grabbed a spatula and a ladle. “Would you hold them like this...” Pinched between the ring and pinky finger, and forefinger and middle respectively. “Or like this.” She maneuvered the props. Mary wielded both cooking utensils, clutched in her fist. 

[marymacdonaldhadafarm]

clementinerobards​:

Shock reverberated through Clem. It was difficult to fathom that the pleasant boy she had shared prefect duties with could have been involved in something so heinous. Her first thought, of course, was what, exactly that role had been. Mary, however, had made it clear it didn’t matter. Clem wondered if she would say more if the point was pressed, but more importantly she wondered if it would help to. Whatever Mary was grappling with, what specifically Asher had done that night wasn’t it. 

Clem blew out hard. It had been a lot to take in. “We really need those fucking jellies for this. Where the fuck is your wand?” She jumped up, looking around. 

.

Despite the heaviness of the topic Mary burst out in laughter. “I’m sure it’s between those couch cushions.” A space notorious for eating wands. She wasted no time in taking the half-liquified concoction from the freezer, only wincing slightly as the pungent alcohol hit her nose. Quickly she set it down and stepped out of scent’s reach. 

“It’s a lot, I know.” Mary could have sunk a ship ten times that of the Titanic with the things she kept quiet beneath the surface.

[marymacdonaldhadafarm]

clementinerobards​:

Yes, Clem remembered it. That had been the night her brother had hauled her home from Costa Rica, her father in Azkaban for the murder of Alice’s mother. And who had come along that night, when Clem was taking solace in her treehouse, but Mary, also looking for solace, That’s what the treehouse had been for. Clem fiercely missed it all of a sudden. Perhaps the woods in Dufftown had been a poor home for it after all. 

She nodded. “Of course I remember. That was the night that—” The sentence was left hanging, so terrible to even finish. Of course, she hadn’t known that night that’s why Mary had been in the treehouse crying with her, it was only later that sickening knowledge came. 

.

“Right, well. It’s just.” Mary filled her lungs for the rant to follow. “The night something happened at the club, Asher was involved. It doesn’t matter what role he played, not really, but suffice to say it shook me. I mean, for a while. And then it just made me angry, you know? So I confronted him, I put it behind me, I moved on.” This wasn’t a line, Mary truly had gotten past the incident.

“And then some time later... my mum dies, which is rotten enough already without all of the issues I’ve got with my family wrapped up in it as well.” And the farm burning down, but that wasn’t precisely relevant. “Then suddenly it’s my first night working a new job, not at the club where this all began, and I’m walking home and there’s this woman freezing on the sidewalk. I walked right past her, really I did, but something turned me right around and, well, come to find it’s his mother. My mum finally dies and a month later I’m reuniting Asher Avery with his mum and I... and I suppose I just want to know... does it mean something? Does it mean anything?”

“I mean, I don’t expect you to answer that I suppose. Just... it’s strange isn’t it? Why that night? Why his mother?” With some self-awareness, Mary let out a soft laugh. “It probably doesn’t, and I’m just too curious for my own good.”

[marymacdonaldhadafarm]

clementinerobards​:

It was strange, because the last Clem knew, Asher’s mother was in Azkaban, for murder, if she could recall correctly. But even stranger was Mary’s question. “Why would it mean something, Mary?”

.

And that, she realized, was the very trouble of starting a story in the middle. She heaved a great big sigh, not unlike the one her car had taken to making each time she asked it to go for one more journey. It was the sound of rolling over. 

“I think I’ve left a lot of things out,” the vodka helped her admit. Not just in this story. In all of her stories. For all of Mary’s blabbing, she was realizing she was quite a secretive person. “Do you remember that night we spent in the treehouse?” God, it was so long ago now. How could it still be relevant? “We were crying.” Was it terrible Mary couldn’t even remember now which tragedy it had been over for Clem? Not because she forgot any of them, only because there were so many options now it could have been, and only a few short years for them to have happened. 

[marymacdonaldhadafarm]

dated 9 December, 1980, mid-morning

Marlene 💙: Please.

Marlene 💙: And maybe something else when it gets too sad.

Marlene 💙: I won't make you listen to ABBA.

Mary❣️: no wonder i love you

Mary❣️: see you soon

Mary❣️: can u pick up tissues on the way?

Mary❣️: i thought we had some but i suspect doc's been watching the wizard of oz and crying again

[marymacdonaldhadafarm]

clementinerobards​:

It hadn’t been the question Clem was expecting, but Mary had said it was odd. “Oh. Uh— not really a lot. I know the mum wound up in Azkaban and the dad married an old school friend of the son pretty quickly, which— well, it seemed suspicious, really. That’s all I know, really. Dad’d probably know more, you could ask Gawain. Asher was a prefect with me last year. He always was pleasant enough.” Rounds had certainly never been a chore with him. Clem’s forehead creased. “Why?” 

.

There was no easy way to say it, no way to say it that explained it all in one go, so she settled with starting somewhere in the middle. “It’s the strangest thing,” she admitted, “but I found his mum the other night.” Perhaps her first follow up question should have been: what was she in Azkaban for? But it wasn’t. “Do you think that means something?”

Impatiently, she peered into the freezer. Still goop, unsurprisingly. 

[marymacdonaldhadafarm]

clementinerobards​:

“That’s my favourite kind of question,” Clem said, her way of saying Mary should ask it. 

.

“Well it’s just, I only think you might know from school, or maybe your family...” Because they were Pureblood, she meant. And equally because they were famously tied up in law enforcement. “What do you know about the Avery family? I mean, if you know anything.”

[marymacdonaldhadafarm]

clementinerobards​:

Clem wished they had just gone for the jelly. Mary’s words sat like bile in her stomach. It was one thing for her to feel or say something about Hayden, but it felt like quite another to hear someone else make comment. It suddenly felt like she had betrayed him, that she had been disloyal or unfair. Perspective began to spin its way through her, as she stared down into her lap. 

“I think people give what they can. He gives what he can. Some people have this much to give,” - she held her hands apart a large gap and then moved them closer together as she continued, “and some people have this much.” Clem looked up at Mary. “The same as anything else, everyone’s different aren’t they?” She thought about it a little more and then settled on the right was to explain. “I give louder than him.” That was it, It was bigger, grander, more obvious. “He’s quieter.” 

A funny sort of contentment came over Clem then, contrary to everything else going on in her life, as part of her unhappiness seemed to melt away. Sometimes you had to hear someone share with you the worst, most irrational thoughts you’d had yourself, to realise they were irrational, to realise they were wrong. He did care, Clem suddenly thought, despite how it sometimes looked, despite what she sometimes felt in moments when her doubt, her low self esteem, got the better of her. She smiled. 

“He does a lot for me. He’s done a lot for me.” Too many, really, to list now. And Clem didn’t want to; they were moments just for her. But they ran through her head now and she could have laughed at her foolishness. Maybe Hayden couldn’t say how he felt about her, or hold her hand to make it obvious, maybe he’d never shout it from the rooftops, but he showed it in so many other ways; that in his own, strange, Hayden way, he cared about her. “He’s a good person. Not nice necessarily,” she added with a laugh, “but good.” It felt right to say, even if it didn’t change Mary’s mind. Hers had been changed, or corrected might be a better word, and perhaps that was all that mattered. 

.

“So long as you think so, that’s all that matters to me.” She could be good at holding a grudge when she wanted to, but Mary rarely wanted to and certainly not towards Hayden now that he was freshly sprung from jail. “But you know that, I’m sure.” 

“I have a bit of an odd question to ask you, I think,” Mary declared suddenly, more to herself than to Clem. 

[marymacdonaldhadafarm]

dated 9 December, 1980, mid-morning

Marlene: You're right.

Marlene: I'm never reading another article again.

Marlene: 😭 😭 😭

Marlene: ☔☔☔

Marlene: 💦☔💦☔

Marlene: Why aren't there any wix-mojis that represent the torrential downpour happening in my heart right now???

Marlene: 🚰

Mary❣️: do you want to come over and listen to the records when the beatles were still good in memoriam?

[marymacdonaldhadafarm]

missmollybwease​:

“You and Doc are so perfect for each other.” Molly said, a wave of emotion coming over her. “But how have you not died yet?” She asked, shaking her head before looking over the recipe. “This we can do.” She smiled, shoving down the sudden urge to cry over Mary and Doc. “Bubba, can you help Mary make a dough for Knish?” She waved her hand, and the kitchen came to life, measuring cups and spoons moving around the space before settling on the counter. Bill grabbed Mary’s hand and pulled her along, “Can you wead dis to me?” He said, taking the recipe from Molly’s hand and handing it back to Mary. “Well then,” Molly laughed. “I guess I’ll work on the potatoes.”

Mary's laughter filled the kitchen. It felt good to let it out so freely again. For a while there, she'd been wondering if she might never really laugh again. How permanent sadness felt, and how fleeting joy. But it was only how they felt, not how they really were. "Mostly thanks to the nice people who work for the broom delivery services."

Mary took the recipe back from Bill and recited the first line. "Do you know where that's at?" she asked him, waiting for him to scamper to get it. That's convenient, Mary thought to herself. Like having another set of hands.

"We're you always so good at cooking and running a house?" she asked Molly over her shoulder, measuring out her next ingredient.