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Tonight you're mine completely
You give your love so sweetly
Tonight the light of love is in your eyes
But will you love me tomorrow?
— Will You Love Me Tomorrow?, Carole King (1971)
James had been the first to notice them, the lights, only slightly visible through the tall windows of the common room – he had run to the windows and shouted Pete, Sirius, mates, you've got to come see this. Because he was James Potter, and because James Potter was loud, everyone in the common room also rushed to the windows to see what this was all about.
But Mary’s eyes were on Lily, and Lily's were on her.
Everyone else had rushed out of the common room – down to the castle grounds to see the northern lights, to get a better view, to create memories that'd last a lifetime.
Everyone, but the two of them.
Lily stood on the couch right next to her, frozen, her gaze fixed on Mary in the same way Mary’s gaze had been fixed on her.
Neither of them dared breathe.
It was the last day of the term, and the Hogwarts Express was scheduled to bring them all back home the next day, only to then bring them all back here for one last semester before they graduated. Naturally, the sixth and seventh years had gathered in the common room to party one last time before Christmas, throwing on a record to play now familiar Muggle tunes.
No one had thought of turning off the record player before rushing downstairs.
They were the only two people left in the room, left with the slow music still playing on the record, with the warm crackling of the wood in the fireplace. Lily’s ginger curls were falling in glossy waves over her shoulders, styled with far more care than her usual entanglement of red hair, and Mary’s heart skipped a beat every time she saw her.
The entire night, neither of them had dared make a move. They only occasionally brushed their pinkies together when everyone would be too drunk to notice, and every so often, Lily would rest her head on Mary’s shoulder, never too long, never long enough for it to be unusual. Because they were best friends, and that’s all they were ever supposed to be, and Mary’s stomach twisted itself in a knot at the idea that anyone might read on her face that it was more, it was always more, she wanted more.
And Mary was always afraid to want more.
The record kept playing, and before she could think twice about it, she got up and held out a hand to Lily. Her heart raced in her chest, and part of her mind was fixed on the possibility that any of their classmates could come back up in the tower at any time and see them, but this was her only chance – her one chance of dancing with Lily, real dancing, not as friends do.
Dancing, as lovers do.
Lily looked up at her, her eyes lost and beseeching, and Mary felt her mouth go dry.
“Will you dance with me?” She asked, her throat parched. “Just one dance, while we still can?”
The words hung between them, heavy with everything they were not saying. Dancing while they still could – loving while they still could. While they were still sheltered, here at school, as much as this could be called being sheltered.
Is this a lasting treasure
Or just a moment's pleasure?
Mary would know.
She had never asked to be involved in a war that did not concern her people. Lily hadn’t, either, and for the longest time Mary had thought they shared the same view on the subject. Lily had never chosen a side, as others had done, but that was until Mulciber – until it happened.
Until he happened.
And it made her guts burn, that Lily made the decision then, to fight in a war that wasn’t theirs. That she said she’d done it for Mary, that she’d used it as an excuse when all Mary wanted to do was scream and run away, her hand squeezed in Lily’s.
Lily exhaled, softly, and took Mary’s hand.
Can I believe the magic of your sighs?
“One dance,” she said, standing up to join her.
Will you still love me tomorrow?
The skirt of her dress shuffled against her thighs, and as Mary placed her hand on Lily’s round, soft shoulder, she made herself look into Lily’s eyes, only her eyes, in fear she would want more if she looked anywhere else. That she’d want Lily whole, skin and sinews and bones, and that it would never be enough to quench her thirst.
She breathed out.
Lily laced their fingers together and placed her other hand on Mary’s waist. By the fireplace, her ginger hair shone around her face, crowning her face with a halo of light. Mary’s breath caught, and in that moment, she knew that whatever the others had gone outside to look at, no northern light would ever rival this sight. Lily’s eyes were searching for hers, asking questions Mary never had the answers for.
Would you stay with me, after Hogwarts?
Mary slowly exhaled, taking a step sideways to guide Lily into their dance.
Would you stay with me, after the war?
They were so close. Their bodies were pressed against each other, soft and warm, and Mary could feel Lily’s breath on her cheek.
Would you love me, if no one else can ever know?
Mary’s hand brushed down the curve of Lily’s shoulder, her fingers starved for the feel of her skin. The bumps and scars scrapped against the pad of her fingers, and she longed to know whether she’d find the same grain along her back, and if she went down and down again, if it would feel the same on her hips, on the rolls of her stomach, along the length of her spine.
Slowly, in unison, they swung to the rhythm of the music, the empty common room soon eclipsed, replaced only by the warmth of Lily’s neck and the pressure of her body against hers.
Tonight with words unspoken
You say that I'm the only one
She’d first heard of the song because of Lily – a record she had obtained only a few months ago, and immediately showed Mary. The two of them had sat on Mary’s bed, their thighs brushing, and Lily had told her all about the album. Have you ever listened to her before? She had asked, eyes sparkling, and Mary had felt her cheeks burn. Yeah, I guess, she had said then, only to keep Lily talking. To keep Lily close, as close as she possibly could, knowing she could never have her as close as she’d really want to. Too intimately aware of the feelings gnawing at her insides, of the things she wished she could tell Lily, but that held too much weight and would come crashing down on them if Lily did not feel the same way.
But will my heart be broken
The lyrics, now familiar to Mary, gave the tempo to their steps. Lily’s hand was drawing circles on Mary’s waist, soothing, but her grip was firm, holding Mary close to her.
Lily’s warmth, contagious, spread to Mary’s body as well, to her cheeks, to her racing heart behind the bars of her ribcage. It longed to be closer, closer still, to be held within Lily’s hands. Laying her head on Lily’s shoulder, she dared look up at Lily’s face, at the freckles she always wished to see from upclose, to count, to kiss. She brought her hand up against Lily’s neck, fingers entangled in her curls, nails scrapping softly her skin. Lily shuddered and pulled her closer still, her gaze lost at a point over Mary’s shoulder.
When the night
Meets the morning sun?
Mary had always been fascinated by Lily’s eyes.
The deep, vivid green of them, a shade she had never seen before. Mary wasn’t sure why anyone would rush outside to see the northern lights, that night. They were nothing special. She had all the colours she needed right in front of her, right now, and the sight took her breath away in a way that no night sky ever could.
It was the first thing she had noticed about Lily, back when they first met, back to their first day of school. Back when nothing mattered and everything still had to be written. She had come face to face with Lily in their shared dorm, right after the banquet, and instead of saying Hello, or even Hi, I’m Mary, she only stared and said, You have green eyes. Lily had seemed taken aback, nearly offended, and she had only replied Okay and walked past her to drop on her bed and close the curtains behind her.
Mary would never forget how fast her heart raced, on that day.
How it never stopped beating fast every time Lily was near, how her guts twisted with jealousy whenever she caught Lily staring at the Snape boy across the dining hall, how she nearly screamed into her pillow the first time Lily climbed into her bed at night to talk, back when she first had a fight with Severus, back when Mary became her one and only friend. How she kept hoping, month after month, for the nights in which Lily would climb into her bed, for the nights she would try to prolong as much as she could, holding Lily’s pain in the palm of her hand, holding her in the warmth of her arms.
So tell me now and I won't ask again
Here, with Lily’s body against hers, swaying in front of the dwindling fire of the common room, she could scream into her pillow again.
Will you still love me tomorrow?
The record played hiccupped and, after a last few notes, slowed down to an end.
Don’t let this be over yet.
Their steps slowed down and eventually stopped, but neither of them broke apart. They stayed there, hands joined, bodies pressed together, and listened to the other breathe. This was more than they ever could have wished for.
This was more than they would ever have.
Mary lifted her head from Lily’s shoulder, slow and careful, her breath tickling Lily’s cheeks. They were so close.
Lily didn’t move, either, and only closed her eyes. Her chest heaved with every breath, and if Mary could lay her head over Lily’s heart and listen to it beat, she knew it would be racing as fast as hers.
Instead, she exhaled, and pressed her forehead against her temple.
They had kissed, once.
She wanted to believe it mattered, because it had to, because it mattered to her. They’d both been drunk, and Lily had been crying over Severus again, and they were huddled in Lily’s bed, late at night. Her cheeks were wet with tears, and Mary had not expected her first kiss to be with a girl who was crying over a boy, a boy who wasn’t her, but it had happened. She had cupped Lily’s face, and Lily had leaned in over her, the pressure of her body comforting – it had been real.
It had mattered.
They would never kiss again.
The knowledge pressed on Mary’s shoulder, weighing her down, but she swallowed down the bitter taste of what could never be. She had Lily in her arms, and they had danced – as lovers do – and that had to be enough.
“I could carry you to the dorms,” she breathed out, heart racing, “and no one would know.”
She didn’t know why she said that. Why she’d break the moment. Why she couldn’t just kiss Lily, follow where her heart told her to go, have the guts to do what she had ached for all these years.
Lily chuckled, and pulled away – just a little. Mary’s heart broke.
“You wouldn’t be able to. I’m too heavy for you.”
“Is that a challenge?” Mary’s lips pulled into a smile, as if the heartburn devouring her chest was not here at all. As though she was not already feel the cold, the absence of Lily against her, the fire a few feet away from them burning low.
She put her hands on Lily’s waist, bending her knees as though she was intent on acting out on her words.
Lily laughed, wholeheartedly this time, and wrapped her arms around Mary’s shoulder to pull her in. Mary buried her face in the crook of her neck again, her heart singing at the return of the warmth.
In that moment, as she felt the echo of Lily’s laughter against her ribcage, she knew she had her best friend, right here, back in her arms.
And if it was all they could ever be, Mary would cherish every single one of these memories and engrave Lily’s mirth in every cell of her body for the rest of her life.
Lily’s hand brushed against Mary’s back, soothing, calmer than Mary ever felt around Lily.
In a way, Lily was like a match, always a second from igniting a fire. She was fierce, and she was stubborn, and she messed with Mary’s feelings in a way no one else had. Most people assumed Lily to be obedient, easy, studious. That she was the teachers’ pet, that she followed the rules rather than her heart.
But Mary wasn’t most people.
Mary knew Lily was brave, braver than them all, because Lily loved.
Even here, even in her arms, Mary wasn’t enough of a fool to assume – to dare think – that Lily loved her. But Lily loved, passionately so, and Lily would wage a war against God if it came down to it.
Perhaps, in another life, Lily would not have had to love her in secret. If Mary had been braver, if she cared enough about someone else’s war, if there had not been a war altogether.
In another life, they would not have had to choose between loving and living.
Slowly, she pulled away from Lily’s embrace.
She didn’t want to be the first to pull away. She didn’t want to be the first to leave.
But she had to, every time, and so she did.
Lily’s eyes met hers, and one last time, Mary lost herself in the green of her eyes.
The deep, vivid green – shrouded by the rue they both felt, clouded by what they both knew was inevitable.
“We should go,” Lily whispered, too softly and yet too loud in the silence of the common room. “Before the others come back.”
Mary raised a hand to Lily’s cheek. Her thumb brushed over her skin, from her round cheek to her plump lips. She hovered there for a few seconds, her gaze riveted by the pink of Lily’s parted lips, forgetting to breathe.
Then, all at once, she dropped her hands and stepped back.
The room felt cold, and the inches between them felt like miles.
Perhaps, in another life.