Jily side blog

A/N: Excited for these microfics. Hoping the muse sticks with me haha. Thank you for organizing @jilymicrofics!! <3

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“It bewitches the mind…esnares the senses…”

“Isn’t that Polyjuice?”

“Amortentia you dunces,” James groans, grabbing Lily’s hand before she can wander off the path again, “And you have drunk neither. You’re just a couple of ijits who decided firewhiskey and the Forbidden Forest make a perfect pair.”

“Hey – Jemmy,” Sirius hisses in what he clearly believes is a whisper, “Let the whiskey liberate your inner mischief manager.”

“I’m clearly already a class A mischief manager,” James grumbles, hooking a finger in Sirius’ nearest belt loop and tugging him in. Hopefully they either purged before he got here or he’ll at least have Remus on assist when they get back to the tower. 

Lily leans against his shoulder, which really shouldn’t make his heart thud while she’s honestly being a bit of a prat, but it does and he’s probably more of an idiot than either of the drunken asses he is currently herding toward the castle. 

While he briefly considers whether doing this as Prongs would be either A) more enjoyable or B) more effective, Lily grasps his tie and nuzzles a little too close for his sanity. “Ja-,” she clears her throat and puts on her best prefect impression, “James, I ‘m not an ‘ijit.’”

I'm 37 😗

i am thinking of youuuuu what you would dooo!!

hi world!!! here’s a short jily one shot (and my first)

My luvs (no peter petigrew bc i don’t think that wound is healed)

fandom: Harry Potter, Marauders Era

ship: jily

rating: G

you can read it on ao3!

summary: On the way to their sixth year at Hogwarts, Lily Evans and James Potter try very hard not to be jealous of each other (they fail).

King’s Cross was always crowded, but on September 1st it could easily compete with the Quidditch Championship Stadium. The Evans family was scurrying through the bustling train station; they had only ten minutes to reach Platform 9¾ so their younger daughter could catch the Hogwarts Express.

“Come on, Petunia, we have no time!” shouted Mrs Evans to her older daughter, who was lagging far behind the rest of the family, clearly taking her time and not caring in the slightest whether Lily made the train or not.

“I don’t know why we’re dragging her along. You know she didn’t want to come. She never does,” said Lily impatiently, helping her father push her trunk. She was already daydreaming about sitting in a train compartment with her friends, changing out of her denim bell-bottoms that clung uncomfortably to her sweaty skin. The heat was awful, and it only made her more anxious.

When they finally arrived at the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10, she quickly kissed her mother’s cheek, hugged her father, promised to write at least once a week, and gave her sister an awkward little wave before taking a running start and disappearing through the wall.

She boarded the train at the very last moment and sighed with relief as the Hogwarts Express pulled away from the platform. She only hoped she would find her friends before running into someone else.

The last person she wanted to bump into was Severus Snape and his shady friends.

“LILY, IN HERE!” she heard Marlene’s voice from the other end of the carriage and immediately hurried toward it.

“Hi! I was hoping to meet you before I head to the prefects’ carriage,” Lily greeted her friends excitedly.

“What’s this we hear from Mary about you kissing boys?” Marlene asked before Lily even had a chance to sit down.

“Not boys! One boy. Mary, you told them already?” Lily asked, slightly annoyed but with a silly grin spreading across her face.

Maybe

She's seen James Potter perform kindness before. This is the first time she sees him mean it.

Lily found the corridor by accident.

She'd taken the long way back from the library — the east staircase was faster, but it smelled like damp stone and something that might have been a Flobberworm colony, and she wasn't in the mood. The west passage ran behind the Charms classrooms and came out near the Fat Lady's portrait if you took the second left, but Lily had been thinking about the transfiguration essay due Friday and miscounted her turns, and now she was standing at the mouth of a narrow, dim corridor that dead-ended at a supply cupboard.

She was about to turn around when she heard it.

"—don't belong in this section of the castle, Mudblood—"

The word hit her like cold water. She'd heard it enough times to know she should keep walking. She didn't.

There were three of them: sixth-year Slytherins she recognized by face and house colours, not by name. She'd spent two years making a point of not learning the names of boys who said things like that. The one in front — tall, with the kind of blond hair that looked like it had been taught to be superior — had his wand out, though lazily, like he wasn't sure he'd need it. The other two flanked him in that specific Slytherin formation that was less about tactics and more about theatre.

The target of this particular theatre was a small girl with ink-stained fingers and the red-and-yellow tie of a Gryffindor first-year. She couldn't have been older than eleven. She was backed against the supply cupboard door, and her chin was lifted in that way Lily recognized immediately — the way you hold yourself when you refuse to cry in front of someone who wants you to.

She'd stood like that, once. In second year. She'd stopped, eventually, and started crying anyway, because she'd been twelve and alone. That was before she'd learned that her voice was the loudest thing she had.

She was gathering that voice now, already stepping forward, when the sound stopped her.

"Mulciber."

Just the name. Flat and carrying. Not loud.

She looked left.

James Potter was leaning against the corridor wall with his arms folded, a few feet from the Slytherins, as if he'd been there for a while and was simply choosing now to be noticed. His school bag was slung over one shoulder. He looked, Lily thought, almost bored.

Remus: I guess we are saying James?

“C’mon Haz, just try it?,” James crouched by the high chair to be face to face with his baby son, brandishing a spoonful of mashed sweet potato.

He took a bite of it himself, “Mmm sooo yummy! Now, aaaaaa—“, he opened his own mouth exaggeratedly, but Harry only turned his head away.

Lily stood behind him with her hands on her hips, “The pamphlet says he should be ready for solid food by now,” She frowned, “Here, let me try.”

Harry reacted the same way, only this time he took a chunk of Lily’s hair and tried to chew on that instead.

The two of them stood there, stumped. Staring at their son and his bib with little ducks all over, as he peered around obliviously.

This had been hard. Being parents that is. Neither of them ever expected to end up here so soon, and in the beginning they’d been positively terrified.

James was aware even 6 months later, just how young they were. They withstood the late nights and messes and tears together, but they still didn’t know what on Earth they were doing half the time.

From the corner of his eye, he watched Lily set the little cup of baby food next to Harry, as her shoulder’s slumped in a great sigh.

Her eyes were rimmed in dark circles, her hair had tangles and bits of spit up stuck to it. Wasn’t often you saw Lily look so defeated.

“D’you.. Are we going to be shit at this?”, she said quietly, “Harry deserves a mum that knows what to—“.

James elbowed her shoulder before he could finish, “You? You’re a brilliant mum! I’m the one—“,

“But you’ve got so much more—“, A gentle hand was clapped over her mouth. James shook his head.

“Lils, yesterday I literally got peed on, mid-diaper change,” Reluctant laughter bubbled up from Lily’s spot now between his arms, “Sure, we aren’t exactly experts but.. Me and you. We got this, yeah?”.

Lily squirmed against his chest, flushing slightly, “Yeah.. Yeah I suppose, Potter,”

James swayed her side-to-side, “‘Potter’ now? You wound me,”

A fond smile grew onto her lips, and she leant in to kiss him. James let his arms wrap around her waist, as hers came up to his neck, and just for a moment they didn’t feel so lost.

James grinned against her, placing once last kiss on her cheek, before Lily’s gaze drifted back to the high chair and she gasped.

“Yes!”, She pumped her fist in the air, before pushing James towards the living room, “Get the camera!”. Harry looked up confusedly, mouth full of sweet potato and hands smeared with orange mush.

When James rushed back into the kitchen, camera in hand, his heart nearly burst in his chest.

There Lily was, face-splitting smile, pressing her nose into their son’s hair, as he smacked his little fists joyfully on the table.

For @jilychallenge

My partner is @formerlympp

And the prompt

"A knight request a token before the jousting tournament begins and receives it."

chapter one: the arrangement

Rated E

“It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement, Evans. Simple quid pro quo — you help me, I help you.”

Or: All James wants is to pass his next Muggle Studies exam. All Lily wants is for Bertram Aubrey to notice her. Maybe they can help each other.

to gain a fairy wife

written for Jily Week 2025 - Day 7 "Choose Your Own Adventure" Click here for a prompt generator and get inspired! the prompts I got out of it: Accidental Marriage, High Fantasy, Everything Hurts I didn't think I would do this one, but here I am anyway because I'm a completionist 😂 thank you @sunshinemarauder and @kay-elle-cee for this week! It was a lot of fun 😊 [AO3]

The horse steps over a fallen branch in the way, jostling James on its back with the movement. James groans, nearly biting off his own tongue.

Taking an arrow to the side sucks, James knew this already.

Taking three is utter hell.

A cool hand brushes sweaty bits of hair out of his face. “Hush,” a soothing voice whispers into his ear. “We're nearly there.”

James' head lolls back against the shoulder of the woman who sits behind him on the horse, holding him upright. Without her he would have fallen multiple times on their short journey.

Some would argue that without her he wouldn't even be in this position at all, wounded and weak, but that would be untrue. He only has himself to blame for that. It's simply against his nature to stand aside and watch someone else in danger.

So he had rushed to her aid when he had stumbled upon her in the woods, surrounded by Death Eaters, the servants of the Dark Lord. He had not hesitated to lend her his sword in that fight, even if she had been capable of defending herself. She might even have come to victory without him, but still James prides himself in the thought that he had been a helping hand, the right distraction at the right moment.

Together they had pushed back against the Death Eaters, some dying and others fleeing. Victory had been close and then the arrows had come out of nowhere, out of the trees.

He had not been fast enough to stop them entirely, only fast enough to shield her from them.

And now he's paying the price for his oversight. Every breath he takes hurts. It rattles around in his lungs like a handful of smooth river stones. His eyelids are heavy. He has long given up on trying to keep them open.

The horse stops. “We are here,” the voice says gently.

Somehow James makes it down from the horse, he has no memory of how. He might have fainted for a moment. When he forces his eyes back open, which almost takes more energy than he has left, he finds himself in a clearing with a small pond. Willows sway in the soft breeze.

The mysterious woman kneels beside him in the soft moss, washing his wounds with water from the pond. The arrows are gone somehow. He must have been out for longer than he thought.

The bright red of her hair looks like fire, like a dancing flame, and James feels like a moth, drawn to it. It slips over her shoulder as she works, revealing the pointed tip of her ear. She bites her lips in concentration.

James feels the icy water, but nothing else.

“Come on,” she mumbles under her breath, a frown on her face as she pressed harder onto the wound at his side, the deepest of all of them. James knows he should scream, but there is nothing. No pain at all, which is a relief.

He can feel his heart slowing down. Soon he will see his parents again, beyond the veil that separates this world from what comes after.

He's almost looking forward to it.

“Don't you dare,” the woman hisses. James isn't sure if she means him, but he still gathers his last bit of strength and takes one last breath.

It shudders in his chest, a faint little thing.

The world dims.

And then suddenly explodes into light and colour.

James gasps as he feels it, rushing through his veins – magic. Pure magic, sizzling and burning. The woman laughs, a beautiful sound of relief and happiness.

“I knew I could do it,” she says, a bright smile on her lips when James slowly blinks his eyes open. Everything seems a little too bright – the light, the green of the moss that matches her eyes. She brushes a bit of his hair out of his face, but pauses when she looks at her hand. “Oh.”

There is something that looks like a glowing, golden ring on her finger that wasn't there before. A faint thread of light spins away from it. James follows it, curious to see where it goes, only to find it leading to a matching ring on his own finger. He lifts his hand and looks at it. It's not made of metal or stone. It seems to not be made of anything substantial at all. Still, it feels very solid and there.

When he looks back at the woman, she's blushing almost as brightly as the colour of her hair. “Well,” she says, clearing her throat. “I have repaid my debt.”

“There was no debt,” James says with a frown, dropping his hand.

“You saved my life, of course there was,” she huffs at him, then smooths out her dress and her hair. “Anyway. The debt is repaid, which is good. I would not wish to be indebted to you.”

“Oh, yeah, I get that,” James says, trying not to show too much disappointment at words that are clearly meant as a rejection. He sits up carefully, bracing for any lingering pain, but all his wounds are perfectly healed. “Yes, any debt is entirely paid off.”

“Good,” the woman says, tilting her head as she looks at him with her moss-green eyes. “Now that this is settled, will you tell me your name? I don't fancy calling you husband at all times.”

James almost loses his balance and falls back down. He stares at her, unable to comprehend what she just said. “Call me what?”

This drawing sounds like, would that I the hozier 🌞

I made this fully on livestream on my twitch channel, it was super fun and I did it cause someone in the chat told me cause I have not idea what to draw 🍊💖

I got Ko-fi and prints if you want to support me.

by lebensmuede

Summary: