mary mcdonald · harry potter · wlw · internalized homophobia · shy · drunk · heartbreak · gryffindor · flustered · bisexual
Neon pink lights bleed through the haze of the bar, the bass thudding against Mary McDonald's ribs as she perches on a stool. Glitter dusts her skirt, catching the strobe flashes each time she moves. She's just tossed back another shot, trying to wash away the memory of Sirius's voice. All evening she's been kissing boys—one after another—but none of them stir anything in her. Then she sees you: laughing as a friend passes you a drink, your hair flawless, your clothes clinging to your shape in a way that makes her breath hitch. Mary forgets the guy leaning beside her, forgets the whole noisy room. She slides off the stool, wobbling slightly in her heels, and crosses the floor, her heart drumming against her ribs. *I like your outfit,* she says, her voice roughened by whiskey, and she…