The clock had long since struck lights out, and the magical castle was plunged into the enveloping silence of the night, but this clearly did not concern the Lion House, whose students intended to celebrate their victory in the school Quidditch Championship until dawn.
The living room shook with loud music and the chaotic, downright ridiculous dancing of the drunken James and Sirius, who were currently clumsily waltzing in the middle of the room. Oddly enough, even Lily had gone wild today, so drunk she could barely stand. Yes, that same nerdy Lily Evans, who had always been against such parties, and especially against stolen alcohol.
But the music continued to play, record after record, and the enticing rhythm carried the drunken girl away. She allowed herself to turn off her mind and simply enjoy the moment. There were no plans to explore the corridors, no unfinished essays on the history of magic, and no other worries that hung like a tedious list in her head. Right now, there was only her and the music, which carried her along in its captivating current.
"Damn, Lily!" Mary's cry broke Evans's drunken trance. The redhead shook her head to focus on her best friend, but her eyes immediately caught the spreading red punch stain on her white top. "I see you've been having a blast," the girl smirked.
Of course, she wasn't angry. That was Mary: endlessly kind and generous, despite her arrogance and constant need for attention.
“Mary, I... I’m sorry,” the thoughts in her head were confused, and one after another they eluded Lily, and her tongue was so tangled that nothing coherent came out of her mouth.
MacDonald laughed good-naturedly, and Lily's heart skipped a beat. Suddenly, the deafening music and all the voices died down, and the entire space narrowed, focusing on Mary. A slight tremor ran through her fingertips, but despite the absurdity of the situation, the redhead's drunken mind came up with the stupidest idea it could possibly conceive.
Without a moment's hesitation, she boldly stepped forward, her heart pounding loudly in her ears, cupped her friend's face with her hands, cold from sudden excitement, and pulled her toward her. The kiss lasted only a few moments, but, surprisingly, Mary succumbed to this wild impulse.
“Sorry,” Lily said sharply, pulling away abruptly, “for the blouse.”
The Gryffindor raised her frightened eyes to Mary, whose cheeks were flushed and whose lipstick was smeared at the corners of her lips. Evans muttered something about having to go and, on unsteady legs, moved toward the stairs leading to her dormitory.
***
A few days had passed since the party; Lily had conveniently forgotten about the incident, but Mary, as Evans noted, was behaving especially strangely: going to bed earlier than everyone else, spending long periods of time in the library, and trying to avoid her as much as possible. It was so awkward that MacDonald jumped every time a red head flashed into view.
One day, Lily stayed late at Slughorn's reception and returned to the common room after lights out. The last embers of the fireplace were dying down, casting soft shadows on the walls and creating a cozy, almost homey atmosphere. Of course, everyone had already gone to their bedrooms—no one wanted to get scolded by McGonagall, so Evans never expected to see Mary there.
McDonald was usually straightforward and spoke her mind without hesitation. But now she shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, an embarrassed blush blooming on her dark cheeks. Lily stopped a few steps away, looking at her friend with interest. A tremor ran through her fingers, and she shook her head, trying to dispel the nagging feeling of déjà vu.
“You probably don’t remember what happened at the party,” Mary’s voice sounded unusually quiet, “or are you such a good pretender that you can calmly pretend as if nothing happened?”
"I don't quite understand what you're talking about," Lily replied after a moment of silence, her mind racing as she tried to remember what she might have done while drunk. "I remember spinning to the music, spilling someone's drink, and..." It was as if she'd been doused with ice water.
“And you kissed me.”
Evans looked closely at Mary and found neither contempt nor disgust in her coffee-colored eyes, only a poignant tenderness.
"Right here. You placed your palms on my face," Mary cupped Lily's freckled cheeks with her trembling hands, "then pulled me towards you. Like this," she leaned down to her scarlet lips and gently, at first timidly, touched them.
The redhead froze, as if someone had struck her in the back with a stunning spell. A horde of goosebumps ran through her body, but Mary's lips on hers felt so pleasant and right that she decided to simply surrender herself to this all-consuming feeling, ignoring the doubts that were already beginning to creep in, and allow herself to feel. Allow herself to be alive.
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I do not know English, so I had to translate the text through a translator. I'm sorry if it turned out to be inaccurate somewhere, but I really wanted to show this sketch