I'm only into canon ships, primarily Jily. I used to be part of the fandom until 2013 so coming back to all this Death Eater worship has been ... interesting. (Like, wtf is jegulus and why is it so big?? And why are we shipping Lily with a whole DE???)
Ofc it goes without being said, but I am very anti jkr. She's the reason I end up dipping from the fandom every now and then
I'm more of a reader and commenter, but I dabble in one shots every now and then
Closing the Gap
Words: 2,331
She knew the pattern by heart now. They would flirt, tease, then draw the line and settle back into the safety of familiarity. But Godric be damned, it had been a whole year and an almost kiss of this cycle now. Maybe it was the firewhiskey, or just her sentimentality, or both, but she was done playing. She looked him square in the eye, her voice dropping into something dangerous.“Or, we could actually spend the night.”
Different Sparks
Words: 4,319
“I'm Muggle-born.” Terry loudly declared in what he hoped was the same tone the Head Girl had used earlier on the train. He caught a green eye wink at him from a few seats across and smiled shyly
Prompt for Jily August 2025 challenge: The Younger Student Who Idolizes Them (A First-Year Gryffindor)
All the Spaces He Filled
Words: 3,845
She found herself wondering if James noticed. If he felt the same quiet pull when they exchanged what might seem like nothing to anyone else. If the smallness of the moments meant as much to him as they did to her.
Sometimes, she thought he did.
Especially when his hand lingered just a second longer than it needed to.
All the Wrong Ways to Be Seen
Words: 3,903
Fancying someone sounded serious. Like scribbling initials in hearts or picking flowers or doing something daft like composing a sonnet. And James ... well, he was thirteen. He didn’t do sonnets.
What he did do was spend far too much time trying to make Lily laugh.
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Day 11 of 12 Days of Jily Christmas in July - Muggle Uni AU
Sirius and James invite Lily to their New Year’s Eve party. Lily doesn’t realise she’s supposed to find someone to kiss at midnight, or that everyone else already assumes that person will be James.
~3800
AO3
Lily didn’t bother looking up from her essay when a boy moved in close to her, hands splayed out on either side of her paper as he leaned over the front of her desk. She knew from the cologne exactly who it was and, though he was occasionally annoying, his presence was nothing to be alarmed about.
“James is hosting a party on New Year’s Eve. Be there. Or else.”
She rolled her eyes and nudged one of his hands away when it came too close to her paper for comfort. “Hello to you as well, Sirius.”
“Yeah, right. Hi, Evans,” Sirius said, sounding bored with propriety, as was his usual state. “So? New Year’s Eve? James’s party? You’ll come, right?”
“Why do you keep telling people it’s my party?” James groused as he took his seat at the desk behind Lily.
“It’s at your house,” Sirius said.
James sighed as if they’d had this argument a hundred times already. “You live there, too, you idiot. Therefore, it’s also your house, your party, and your responsibility.”
“Nah, it’s your parents’ house more than anything,” Sirius deflected. “Back to your responsibility.”
“They’re your parents just as much as they’re mine!” James argued. “Maybe not biologically, or legally, or for nearly as long. But they’re yours.”
“Whatever, you sap. You’re the responsible one. Therefore it’s yours,” Sirius said. “Anyway, Evans. New Year’s Eve. Nine o’clock sharp. See you there.”
He tapped the desk and stood up straight. Lily only looked up from her essay once his footsteps indicated he’d left the room.
“So, you’re hosting a New Year’s Eve party, I hear,” Lily said, glancing over her shoulder at James, who was glaring after Sirius.
“It looks that way.” He sighed, and his expression softened immensely as he turned his gaze to her. “You really should come. If you don’t already have plans.”
“I don’t,” she said. “I mean, I kind of do, but I’ve been desperately hoping for better plans than accompanying my parents to Vernon’s Grunnings party again.”
“Ah, Vernon,” James said, nodding his understanding. She had complained often about her dull, humourless brother-in-law. “So, that sounds like you’ll come?”
He looked… hopeful, she decided.
She nodded. “Yeah, I’ll come.”
“Great!” He grinned at her. “You can bring Mary, of course.”
“She’s going on vacation with her family,” Lily told him. “They’re leaving on Boxing Day and they won’t be back until the third.”
“Ah, well then.” He shrugged, still smiling at her. “You can always just hang out with me.”
It wasn’t like she didn’t know anyone who would be there. She would know Sirius, obviously, and there was no way Remus or Peter wouldn’t be there. She was sure there would be other girls she knew, like Marlene, Emmeline, and Dorcas. But the idea of hanging out with James was a pleasant one.
“Sure,” she agreed easily.
“Brilliant,” he said cheerfully as Professor McGonagall swept into the room and set a large armload of books on her desk.
Lily turned to face the front, trading her English essay for her maths notebook and mulling over why the thought of James being happy to spend time with her made her feel so warm inside.
-
“I can’t believe I’m going to miss it,” Mary complained as she sprawled across Lily’s childhood bed. She had come with Lily to her parents’ Christmas Eve dinner, mostly to act as a buffer between Lily and Petunia and Vernon. It was also their last chance to see one another before Mary would be gone for over a week.
“It’s just a party,” Lily said as she touched up her mascara.
“It’s a New Year’s Eve party,” Mary countered.
Lily smiled and glanced at Mary’s reflection behind her. “I fail to see how that makes any difference.”
Mary leaned up onto her elbows and arched her brows at Lily in the mirror. “New Year’s Eve? Famous for the midnight snog? Hello!”
“Oh.” Lily hadn’t considered that. “Is that a real thing that people do? Like, is it a big deal?”
“I mean, I snogged Brandon last year on New Year’s Eve,” Mary said.
“I thought his name was Bradley,” Lily said. She had missed that particular party since her grandmother had been in hospital, but Mary had told her all about it.
Mary frowned. “Was it?”
Lily rolled her eyes. Clearly he hadn’t left an impression.
“Whatever. Anyway, this is your first New Year’s Eve party,” Mary said.
“That’s not true!”
“Family events don’t count,” Mary said in a tone that left no room for argument. “There’s no snogging at family events. At least, there shouldn’t be.”
There definitely hadn’t been. Unless you counted her parents kissing. Which Lily didn’t.
“This is a uni party,” Mary continued. “People will be dressed all sexy, they’ll be drinking. Of course there’s going to be snogging.”
Suddenly, Lily felt something like dread settle in her stomach. “Mary, what if no one wants to kiss me?”
Mary looked at her like she was impossibly slow. “Lily, it’s James Potter’s party. Someone there is going to want to kiss you.”
Lily didn’t quite understand what she meant by that, but before she could ask, Petunia opened the door. She stood there for a moment, looking around in distaste.
“Mum said it’s time for dinner,” Petunia said with an air of having been put-out by having been assigned this task.
“Okay, we’re coming,” Lily said.
As she and Mary followed Petunia to the dining room, Lily found herself wondering if James was planning to snog anyone at the party. The thought stuck with her all throughout dinner, making it difficult for her to enjoy her roast chicken, a usual favourite of hers.
-
Lily had been to James and Sirius’s house several times. They hosted movie nights with a group of friends every week, as well as the occasional game night. Lily had never seen it so crowded, though.
She made her way inside and stepped into the living area, looking for a familiar face. She found Peter first. He was standing near a group of people playing what looked like chess. Only, they weren’t fully clothed. She wasn’t sure how one could turn chess into a stripping game, but she figured drunk uni students would find a way.
“Hi, Peter,” she said, approaching him.
He looked away from his intrigued observation and smiled at her distractedly. “Oh, hi, Lily.”
“What’s going on?” she asked.
Peter opened his mouth, then paused. He shrugged. “I have no idea. I just walked into this.”
“Well, looks interesting, I guess,” she said.
“Certainly,” he agreed.
She stood with him, watching for a few moments before her attention began to drift and she looked around. “Do you know where James is?”
Still watching the match, he shook his head. “Last I saw, he was arguing with Sirius in the garden. But that was a while ago.”
“Ah,” she said. That sounded like James and Sirius, alright. “I’m going to go find them.”
He didn’t bother looking up as he waved her off. “See you later.”
She turned around and nearly ran straight into Marlene.
“Lily!” Marlene beamed at her.
“Hey, Marlene! Wow, you look great!” It was true. Marlene was a blonde bombshell in a tight red dress.
“Thanks! So do you!” Marlene said.
Lily was wearing the strappy silver, very short dress Mary had bullied her into agreeing to wear over FaceTime earlier. She’d been self-conscious about it as she’d squeezed into it, but looking at all of the skin all of the other girls here were showing? She was glad she’d agreed to it. Even if it was freezing out. The house was warm enough with bodies packed in tight.
“Have you been here long?” Lily asked. “I just got here. I’m looking for James and Sirius.”
Marlene shook her head, raising her voice over the music that someone had just turned up. “Just walked in, actually. Let me know if you do find them, though. I’ve got big, gargantuan plans for Sirius tonight.”
Lily grinned. “I’ll send him your way if I find him.”
“Thanks!” Marlene said, and disappeared into the living room.
Sirius and Marlene were basically dating, only neither of them would admit it. They had been hooking up “casually” for over a year, but neither of them would date anyone else. Remus had told her once in passing, long ago, that Sirius and Marlene both rejected the concept of relationship labels.
That didn’t seem to apply to James where Sirius was concerned, however. Lily had heard him on many occasions declare James his best friend, his brother, his other half.
Turning, Lily was relieved to see Remus walking towards the kitchen hoisting a heavy-looking keg. She pushed through a crowd of people to his side.
He noticed her the second she reached him and smiled warmly. “Hi, Lily.”
“Hey, Remus! Er—do you need help with that?”
Remus looked very amused by her offer and shook his head. “I’ve got it. Thanks.”
“Well, if you’re sure…” she trailed off, still walking with him into the kitchen. She was disappointed to find that James was not there.
“He’s in the garage,” Remus said as he set the keg down.
Lily blinked. “Who?”
He smirked at her. “James. Aren’t you looking for him?”
“I…” She hesitated, embarrassed. She was looking for James. But why would Remus just assume that before she’d even asked? “Well, he’s the host, right? I wanted to say hello.”
“Yes, because people often greet the host at a party like this,” Remus said teasingly. Lily felt her face flush. Remus smiled. “Don’t worry. He’s been looking for you, too.”
“Is he?” Her voice sounded high-pitched to her own ears. She cleared her throat as Remus, smirking still, turned his attention to opening the keg. “I better go find him, then.”
“Yes, you’d better,” Remus said without looking at her. He sounded suspiciously amused. Lily frowned at his back for a moment before she headed for the door.
She nearly walked right into Sirius when she stepped outside. He was standing there smoking a cigarette, looking moderately annoyed. Lily remembered Peter had said he and James were arguing earlier.
He studied her over the orange tip of his cigarette. “You look well fit tonight, Evans.”
“Thanks?” she said. “Speaking of fit, Marlene’s here.”
He grunted, trying for disinterested. Lily saw right through him.
“She said she’s got big plans for you,” she continued. The slightest bit of interest sparked in his grey eyes. “You’d best find her soon before she sets her sights on someone else.”
Something dangerous flashed in his eyes as he tossed the cigarette on the concrete and ground the glowing end beneath his boot. “You are a mean-spirited woman.”
She laughed. “Hey, I’m just letting you know.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m just letting you know that James is hiding out there afraid you’ve stood him up.” He pointed his chin at the dimly-lit garage as he headed inside. “Do with that what you will.”
She frowned after him for a moment, puzzling over his meaning. Stood him up? It wasn’t a date. Sirius had invited her to a party and James had offered to keep her company. That was it, wasn’t it?
Movement in the garage caught her attention. She saw James shifting things around. She drifted towards him curiously, a bit cautious, a bit worried to disturb him.
He was muttering to himself, hands on his hips as he took stock of the mess in the garage. There were many more kegs, along with bottles and bottles of alcohol. Moreover, there were stacks and piles of boxes of fireworks.
“Doing alright?”
He jumped and whirled around to face her. He smiled when he realised it was her. Was it just because of Sirius’s parting words that she thought he looked relieved to see her?
“Lily! You’re here,” he said.
And, yes, he was definitely relieved. Relieved and delighted she had come. The confirmation gave her pause, just enough to come to the conclusion that she was glad to find him happy to see her.
“I said I would come,” she reminded him as she stepped into the garage beside him. Granted, Sirius had told her to come for nine. Mary had warned her not to show up a minute before ten. She’d compromised and arrived at nine-thirty.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “You did. You look—” his gaze roamed her body. It felt warm even as she stood there shivering in the cold “very lovely.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
“Very lovely and very freezing,” he amended as a violent shiver shook her. Without hesitation, he took off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders, leaving him in just a light jumper.
Her face warmed.
“Thank you,” she said again.
His smile was soft and pleased. “You’re welcome.”
“So, what are we up to?” she asked, looking around.
A scowl crept onto his face as he was reminded of his predicament. “Trying to make sense of all this shit.”
She nodded. “Sirius?”
“Sirius,” he confirmed on a long, drawn-out sigh.
“Peter said you two were arguing earlier,” she prompted. “Does it have anything to do with all this?”
“It has to do with the fact that he’s an inconsiderate ass,” James said sharply. “He decides people are going to come over tonight. Fine. He decides I’m in charge. Fine. He’s not wrong; I am the more responsible one. He decides everyone is going to get smashing drunk. Okay whatever. I can handle that. But this?”
He made a grand, sweeping gesture that couldn’t have been about the alcohol he’d apparently agreed to.
“The fireworks?” she guessed.
“The fireworks!” he exclaimed. “Put me in charge of a bunch of drunk idiots, I’ll handle it. But I draw the line at managing a bunch of drunk idiots setting off explosives! He bought all these without telling me, so now the entire thing is his responsibility. I’m out!”
She took a moment to answer because, well, he clearly needed a pause to calm down. When she saw that he had, a bit, she smiled gently. “Do you really intend to leave Sirius in charge of a bunch of drunk people with fireworks?”
He looked at her and groaned miserably. “No, obviously not. I’m absolutely full of shit.”
“That’s what I thought,” she said. When he sighed, she placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you.”
Something shifted in his eyes as he stared at her. “You will?”
She became aware of the casual way in which she had touched him and dropped her hand from his shoulder like it burned. She turned away from him as if to study the assortment of fireworks, but really she was hiding her embarrassment. “Well, I was under the impression we were hanging out tonight. By extension, that also puts me in a position of responsibility, does it not?”
His smile was audible when he spoke. “Of course it does.”
-
Crack.
Boom.
Bang.
Lily stood with James on the edge of the driveway, each of them holding a cup of beer from the latest keg Sirius had tasked Remus with opening. They were supervising Sirius’s supervision of the impromptu fireworks display in the street. James may have accepted that he was still the responsible party here, but he hadn’t let Sirius in on that.
“He’s so stressed,” Remus said, startling Lily as he materialised behind her.
James smirked, watching as Sirius paced between the driveway and the bloke setting up the next firecracker in the middle of the street. “Good.”
“I don’t think he’s had a drink all night,” Peter chimed in. He was sprawled on the lawn with something harder than beer in his cup—Lily hadn’t asked him what it was, but she knew from the smell that it had a lot of rum in it.
Lily watched as Marlene, in her killer outfit, marched up to Sirius and handed him a cup. She said something stern to him, and rolled her eyes at whatever his response was and turned away. Marlene caught Lily’s eye and made her way over.
“He’s an idiot. Remind me why I sleep with him,” she complained as she stopped in front of Lily, who shrugged.
“Best guess? He’s fit.”
Marlene sighed and looked back at Sirius. “Oh yeah.”
“You think Sirius is fit, then?” James asked conversationally, but the way he studied her over his cup as he took a sip of beer clued her in that it was not a casual question. Her answer mattered to him.
“Well, objectively.” She shrugged. “But he’s not the kind of bloke who makes me feel anything about it.”
James nodded. He took a long time to respond. She could hear the others talking behind her, but she could only focus on what he had to say as she faced him.
“What kind of guy might do that?”
She frowned. “Someone kind… friendly… smart. Who makes people feel welcome and cared for. Someone safe. Responsible. Trustworthy and passionate.”
“Are we writing a character portrait of James?” Marlene asked.
Lily jumped. “What?”
“What? Why do you look like that?” Marlene looked confused. Lily felt hot. “What were you talking about? It sounded like you were listing James’s best qualities.”
“Only left out tall and fit,” Peter added. He was definitely drunk if he was openly calling James fit.
She couldn’t bring herself to look at James. When she finally did, he was trying to hide his smile in his cup. The fact that he looked so pleased—not uncomfortable, but relieved—made her feel less awkward about it all.
He noticed her looking at him and he held her gaze for a moment before Marlene drew their attention again.
“I’m going to have a time pulling him away from all that to get my midnight snog,” she said miserably, gesturing at Sirius, who was still pacing down by the street. She frowned and shrugged. “I guess a midnight-thirty snog is acceptable. Unless one of you wants to step in.”
She looked between Remus and Peter, who both shook their heads.
“I’m not stepping on Sirius’s toes,” Peter said. “Besides, I think one of the girls playing strip chess asked me to kiss her. Penny? Something like that.”
“Also not stepping on Sirius’s toes here,” Remus told her. “But I happen to actually know who I’m kissing. Dora had a late shift, but she should be here any minute.”
“People actually do that?” Lily asked. “I mean, they just walk up to a random person and say ‘kiss you at midnight’ and go their separate ways for a few hours?”
Peter shrugged. “Guess we’ll see in…” he checked his phone, “twenty-three minutes.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Remus said. “Dora’s my girlfriend. There wasn’t really a conversation about it beyond figuring out what time she’d be able to get here.”
“Sirius has been my New Year’s kiss for three years now,” Marlene said. “It’s locked in at this point.”
“Three years?” Lily frowned. She thought they had only been whatever they were to each other for a year.
Marlene only nodded. “I know it doesn’t make sense to anyone but us. We’re not together, and we were even less together back in secondary, but we weren’t nothing.”
Lily was pretty sure even without the beer that explanation would not have made sense to her. She looked at James, who shrugged and shook his head.
“Anyway,” Marlene sighed. “Would it be totally pathetic if I were to go down and hover around him for the next twenty minutes? Just in case?”
“A little, but you should do it anyway,” James said. “He deserves the stress relief.”
“Oh, he’s going to get some stress relief tonight,” Marlene promised. “The midnight kiss is just a preview.”
Lily laughed and James smirked.
Remus’s phone chimed. “Dora’s here. Down the street. There are too many people. She can’t get through in her car, so I’m going to walk down and meet her. See you in a bit.”
He left to a chorus of see you laters. Then, with an annoyed huff that she had to work for it, Marlene left them to stand behind Sirius. Peter, seeming to realise he was running out of time to see if this mystery girl still wanted to kiss him, left to try to find her.
And then it was just Lily and James again.
“So…” Lily started awkwardly. “Do you have it all sorted, then?”
“Do I… have what sorted?” James asked carefully.
She shrugged. From the way he was looking at her she had a feeling that this was another of those important moments where the answer mattered more than the question. Only, she was the one asking.
“Your midnight kiss,” she said quietly. “Do you have it planned?”
He took a gulp of his beer, then he lowered his cup. It seemed to Lily like an excuse to come up with a good answer.
“My only plan for tonight was to spend it with you,” he told her. “There’s no other girl.”
“There are dozens of girls here, actually,” Lily said, wishing wildly she could shut up. She didn’t want him to kiss one of the other girls here. She was only just starting to realise she wanted him to kiss her. Why was she reminding him that he was a top eligible bachelor here who could have his pick of midnight kisses?
“Lily, you were my plan,” he said, then backtracked a bit. “Well, not my plan. Not in a weird way. More… I hoped you might… not want to spend any part of it with anyone else.”
“You’re saying you want to kiss me?” she asked. He stared at her, and she felt foolish again. “I mean, at midnight, of course. For the tradition of it all.”
“Yes,” he said.
“Okay,” she told him. “That works out as I would like to kiss you at midnight.”
“Yeah?” he asked, looking hopeful and also like it mattered that she actually wanted him to kiss her.
She nodded. “You know. It’s a tradition. I’ve never actually… had a New Year's kiss.”
“Well, I would be honoured to be your first,” he said.
“Okay,” she said again.
“For the record,” James said quietly. “I would also like to kiss you outside of the tradition.”
She smiled, and tucked her hair behind her ear a bit self-consciously. “Would you, now?”
He nodded, and lifted his hand to push the hair back from the other side of her face. “Now more than ever, which I previously didn’t think possible.”
“Well, then,” she said, tipping her face up to his. “By all means, do.”
Eagerly, he did. He stepped closer, so that their toes were touching, and slid his hands around her waist beneath the jacket he’d put on her. She tipped her head up as he lowered his, and their mouths met.
They were still kissing when the countdown started, and hardly noticed when the fireworks went mad around them.
Day 12 of 12 Days of Jily Christmas in July - Muggle Uni AU
Sometimes the longest road home is the one that leads you exactly where you were always meant to be. James Potter and Lily Evans discover that friendship, love, and a crowded, cozy inn during a blizzard may be just enough to change everything.
~15,500 words
AO3
He was driving so slowly. She knew it must’ve been killing him — absolute murder — to be driving so slowly, but there really was no other option, what with the whiteout they had found themselves in. Lily could barely see the road in front of her, and James was as blind as anyone she’d ever met, even with his fancy overpriced specs, so she knew he couldn’t see anything. Several times she had been tempted to offer to trade places with him, but James was the better driver, truth be told. She wasn’t the best driver in optimal conditions and had the traffic violations to prove it, and bloody blind James Potter had an immaculate driving record with not so much as a fender-bender to his name. If she were being honest with herself, as she usually tried to be, she was also a bit frightened to get behind the wheel in such conditions.
The worst part was that she was fairly certain James knew it; it would explain why he had thus far refrained from making any jokes about how doomed they were — another thing that must’ve been killing him to hold back. They had known each other as long as either of them could remember, had started off as friends when they were five, drifted apart when he had transferred to a fancy public school a few years later, had been academic rivals when they’d ended up at the same secondary school, slowly worked their way back to a tentative, if somewhat awkward friendship by the time they graduated.
They were from the same small town, so when they had ended up at the same university, they had developed a tradition of carpooling back and forth. It was only James who had a car, so she usually just tagged along with him whenever he decided to go home to see his parents, but he was pretty decent about agreeing to go home with her if she had a need to as well. She just felt a bit guilty asking him to give up his weekends; as popular as he was, he seemed always to have plans, and never to mind breaking those plans if she wanted to make the long trip home to see her father. They always traded off who drove, something that he agreed to only to assuage her guilt. Even knowing why he did it, she couldn’t deny that it did seem more fair that way.
It was her turn to drive, really. She knew it. She knew he knew it, too. But he hadn’t even pretended to consider asking her to drive, had watched her load her bag into the boot - he knew by now that she would take great umbrage if he tried to do it for her - tossed his own small bag in after, then climbed into the driver’s seat without a word. The weather forecast had been for snow. She’d been checking obsessively for hours, hoping it would change while she haphazardly threw her belongings into her bag and waited for James to text her that he was coming to get her. She assumed he had checked as well, and had decided to drive so as to avoid a repeat of the Great Nervous Breakdown of the winter of 2017.
He had called her one night, idling in her dormitory car park, told her to come down and keep him company while he went for ice cream. She had pretended to argue with him — who in their right mind wanted ice cream when it was very clearly about to start snowing — but had gone with him without any real hesitation. She had just broken up with her boyfriend, and they had both pretended rather well that the excursion was not just his very obvious, incredibly sweet attempt to distract her. It had been her turn to drive then, too, and he had playfully insisted that she be his chauffeur — “Fair is fair, Evans.”
She had hit a patch of ice on their way back and had lost control of the car for a moment. A second, really. James had seemed completely unfazed by it, but he usually seemed unfazed. Lily had absolutely lost her mind, though, sobbing and indulging in a lengthy breakdown right there in his car parked on the shoulder of the road during the first snowfall of the year. He had spent the majority of his night trying to soothe her, to no avail.
They both knew what had caused her mental breakdown: she had lost her mother to a sheet of black ice when she was thirteen.
“Dad says they’re closing the roads back home,” Lily said, staring desolately at her phone. She was clenching it so tightly her fingertips looked like polka dots of correction fluid on the edge of the sleek device.
“I’m surprised they’re not closed yet here,” James said calmly. Then, without taking his eyes off the road, “You’re going to gnaw your lip bloody if you don’t stop that.”
She hadn’t even realised she was chewing on her lip, but now that he mentioned it, she felt the sharp metallic tang of her plump lower lip against her tongue, the last raw layer of skin before she drew blood. Saying nothing, she released her lip and started tapping away at her screen.
“I guess we'd better find some place to stay until this clears up,” James said.
“Already on it,” she told him with a terse smile. “There’s an inn not far from here. Shouldn’t be difficult to get rooms. It’s got awful reviews online. Dusty bannisters and bed bugs and burnt eggs and the like.”
“You had me at bed bugs,” James said, perfectly chipper.
“Turn right just ahead,” was all she said, and he dutifully turned on his blinker, not that any other drivers who may be around them could possibly see.
The snowfall only intensified as they neared their destination, to the point where Lily legitimately couldn’t tell if they were even on a road until they pulled into a parking lot. The only sign that James had been even slightly distressed was the sigh of relief he gave when he finally shifted the car to park.
For a moment, they just sat there, looking at each other. Then, James laughed and Lily felt that thing, that stupid tingle that he had been causing more and more often lately. Logically, she knew what it was, knew exactly what it meant, but this was one of the rare situations that Lily was stubbornly untruthful with herself.
“You run in and book the rooms,” James suggested. “I’ll grab our bags. I think we both could use a hot shower tonight.”
When she fumbled with the door latch, she told herself it was because her fingers were bone-stiff from clenching and the cold, and not because the image of them both sharing a hot steamy shower came, unbidden, to her mind.
Normally, she would have insisted on getting her own bag, but as soon as she got the door opened and felt the snow pelting her, she shook her head and sprinted as best she could for the building she could just make out through the snow. She stomped the snow off her boots on the mat, looking around in surprise when she stumbled inside.
The place was…cute, she guessed. Homey, and decorated for Christmas with tinsel and garland all over the door frames and wrapped around the banister of the stairwell. There were stockings hanging from the front of the welcome desk, each one with a picture of a child tacked to the front. The sign next to the welcome plaque said that these were orphaned children the owners and patrons of the inn were sponsoring through the Christmas season. Lily couldn’t fathom why the place had such bad reviews.
When James traipsed in behind her, loudly knocking the snow from his trainers, she realised she had been so charmed by Christmas decorations that she had failed to even approach the front desk. She smiled guiltily and took her bag from James when he shot her an inquisitive look.
“Sorry. Distracted,” she muttered.
“Women and garland. I’ll never understand.” He shook his head as he moved past her to approach the desk, but she caught the fond smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
“Hello!” chirped a small, portly woman maybe fifteen years their senior and with shockingly red hair, who emerged from one of the garland-wrapped doorways to Lily’s right and skirted behind the counter as they approached. “Welcome, dears! I’m so glad you made it in this awful weather!”
“So are we,” James said genially. “Are you the owner? This place is lovely.”
“Well, thank you, dear! As it happens, I am. My husband and I just bought the place about six months ago. Sunk our whole savings into the renovations, or close enough! We only just reopened about a month ago!” The woman had a beaming, friendly smile that made Lily feel instantly at home.
“That explains why such a lovely place had such negative reviews online,” Lily said mostly to James before she turned back to the woman. “You didn’t want to change the name?”
“We considered it, but… well, truth be told, Arthur and I — my husband, Arthur — I’m Molly, by the way, Molly Weasley. Arthur and I met here when we were just teenagers on vacations with our families, maybe a few years younger than the two of you. We kept in touch, eventually got together. When we got married almost twelve years ago now, we came here for our honeymoon. Now we’ve got five sons and another on the way, and really we owe it all to this place. We couldn’t bring ourselves to change it.”
Lily blinked in surprise, felt oddly drawn to the woman, but struggled to think of what to say to such an unexpected overshare. James beat her to it.
“Six boys?” he asked, adding a low whistle. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”
Molly laughed, and Lily had to remind herself that the older woman was married and pregnant with her sixth son when she noticed the pink tinge on her cheeks. “Well, yes, I can be a formidable opponent.”
“Does your family live here? I imagine there has to be someone here all the time to keep the place running,” Lily said.
“We live just down the road. I have a small staff to help out here, a manager, a cook, a maid, but Arthur and I do most of the work ourselves. Bill helps out where he can — he’s our oldest. He’s nine. Usually, we don’t like for the kids to stay here at night with all the strangers coming through, but we’ve got a generator here in case the storm knocks out the power, and it’s more convenient to already be here in case something comes up, so we’re all staying here until the weather clears up. Anyway, you’ll be needing a room?”
The abrupt topic change startled Lily, but she nodded. “Yes, please. Two.”
But Molly was already clicking away at an old antiquated-looking computer, not the flat screen variety that Lily anticipated, but the kind that jutted out at the back and barely fit on a desk. Lily wandered away, leaving James to chat amicably with Molly while she explored. The room Molly had come from was a large, cozy sitting room with a roaring fire.
It was filled with children. Most of them had the same red hair as Molly, but there were two blond little girls sat cross-legged across from a small bespectacled boy with smart red hair playing a very high stakes game of what looked like Happy Families. Two identical boys even smaller than the first, and nowhere near as tidy, were huddled in a corner loudly babbling in some tongue that vaguely resembled English. The two oldest boys were taking turns kicking a football back and forth. They were being careful with it, and Lily had no doubt that their mother had threatened them with life and limb if they broke anything. Even so, it slipped past the shorter of the two boys, the one with shaggy hair, and almost knocked over a tall vase next to the doorframe, but Lily caught it before it tipped over.
“Thanks!” the older boy called.
“Mum said we could play inside because we can’t go outside, but she said she’d cut my hair off if I broke anything, so thanks, lady!” the younger boy said, breathless and with a charmingly toothless grin, as he ran over to fetch the ball.
“You’re welcome,” she said, blinking in surprise at being called lady by a small child. Nineteen seemed rather young to be inducted into ladyhood.
“Er, Lily?”
She turned towards James, and he signaled her over with a small jerk of his head. He frowned, studying her, when she came to lean against the desk beside him.
“What?” she asked when he didn’t immediately say anything. He opened his mouth, shut it, and then glanced at Molly who looked slightly baffled by his obvious struggle when Lily turned to her. “Is something the matter?”
“Well, no. I was just telling your young man here that you’ve got the last room,” Molly said brightly.
“Lucky!” Lily said, gliding right past the your young man comment. “All settled then? How much do I owe you?”
“No, Lily,” James said, an odd, slightly strangled note in his voice. “You haven’t got the last room. We’ve got the last room.”
She gaped at James as her brain struggled to comprehend. Once it had, she turned back to Molly in horror. “There’s only one room available? There’s nothing else? You’re completely booked?”
“Yes, just the one room. Well, technically, the room was pre-booked for another lovely young couple celebrating their anniversary, but they had to re-book due to the storm,” Molly said. She looked between the two of them, still smiling, still clearly confused by their reactions. “I’m sorry, is something the matter? We get young couples in here all the time sharing rooms, and a couple as lovely as the two of you…”
Lily felt herself go scarlet. “That’s not —”
James laid a hand on her arm to stop her. She looked at him. “The roads are closed,” he said quietly.
She felt her shoulders sag in acceptance, and James turned back to Molly.
“Thank you, Molly. The one room sounds perfect,” he said; only the red tips of his ears peeking out from his messy black hair hinted at his embarrassment. He pulled out his wallet and handed over a card. Lily was too shocked by the turn of events to insist on splitting the cost with him.
Molly handed his card back with a room key. It was an actual key for a lock, not a card, a fact which Lily would ordinarily have found charming if she weren’t currently in the middle of a crisis.
One of the small boys came charging in from the sitting room, one of the little blond girls chasing after him giggling.
“Watch out for the skymines!” he shouted as he darted past Lily and James.
“Skymines?” James repeated, watching the children with an amused smile.
She turned as the children raced up the stairs. “Charlie! What have I told you about charging through here like that when I’ve got guests?”
“Sorry, Mum!” came the unrepentant call over the sound of stampeding feet above their heads.
Lily, meanwhile, looked up in search of said mistletoe. She spotted a little cluster of green dotted with white berries and tied off with a red bow dangling over the doorway behind Molly. She took a moment to be impressed that it seemed to actually be mistletoe rather than the holly a lot of people hung thinking it was mistletoe. Then, to her horror, she noticed just how many clusters there were.
Over every doorway, and randomly secured to the ceiling in the middle of the room. She even spotted a cluster over the stairs and could only assume there was more upstairs.
“Skymines indeed,” James muttered, and she turned to see him looking around at all the clusters surrounding them as well.
Molly sighed again and shook her head. “I made the mistake of letting Arthur put them up. He’s a bit of a romantic.”
Lily glanced up at the cluster dangling directly over Molly’s head. A bit, she thought. By the look on James’s face, he was thinking much the same.
“You have to kiss,” said a small voice behind Lily. The small neat-looking little boy with the glasses was standing in the doorway to the sitting room, Happy Families forgotten as his opponent seemed to have abandoned him to chase the older boy up the stairs. Lily looked directly above her own head to find yet another cluster.
“Percy, don’t,” Molly warned.
“It’s the rules,” he said stubbornly. “Dad said.”
“Your father has gone overboard,” Molly told him.
“Rules are rules!” the boy insisted. He looked at James. “You have to kiss her, or you won’t get any Christmas gifts!”
Lily nearly choked. Beside her, James looked like his brain was short-circuiting.
“Honestly, Percy. Your father told you that so you wouldn’t put up a fuss when he cornered you for a snuggle,” Molly said.
“No! He told me that because it’s the rules! They’re breaking the rules!” Percy insisted. “If you don’t kiss I’ll have to call and report it to Santa.”
That seemed to wake James up. He laughed. “Not Santa! Can’t you cut me a break, mate? It’s been a long day.”
Percy crossed his arms over his chest and glared at them. “No.”
“No?” James said.
“Rules are rules,” Percy repeated.
“Percy,” Molly sighed.
“You are a dictator,” James said seriously, though his eyes were still twinkling with amusement. He leaned over and pecked a mortified Lily on the cheek and turned back to raise an eyebrow at Percy. “Sufficient?”
Percy, who apparently was accustomed to mistletoe snuggles from his father rather than impassioned snog sessions, nodded once. “I guess. But next time, you better not argue back!”
Just then, the oldest of the children called Percy over. Apparently the promise of a game of Memory with his older brother was more enticing than enforcing Christmas law on adults.
“You’re on probation,” he told James gravely before he turned and hurried away.
“I’m sorry about him,” Molly said once he was gone. “Honestly, he’s the only one of my children who puts any stock in rules.”
“Apparently he more than puts stock in them,” James commented, still smiling over the interaction. He had always loved children, Lily knew. “Anyway.” He turned to Lily, dangled the key in front of her. “Shall we?”
Lily took a deep, steadying breath, and nodded. She turned to Molly as she lifted her bag. “Thank you.”
“If you need help finding the room…” Molly offered, beginning to come around the front of the desk.
“I think we can manage,” James said. “Room eight.”
Molly nodded. “Room eight. If you need help, Charlie’s around up there.”
Lily smiled at the thought of asking a boy who looked maybe seven for help finding a room as she and James headed for the stairs. They traipsed up the stairs in silence. Lily was unsurprised to find clusters of mistletoe everywhere she looked.
“Beware the skymines,” James murmured as he scanned the hall for their room. She laughed under her breath. When he found their room, he paused to look at her with the key in the lock. “Chances of there being two beds?”
Lily sighed and shook her head. “Not very likely.”
He turned the key and pushed the door open.
It was, like the downstairs had been, cute. The walls were a pale shade of blue, almost lilac in hue, and there was a small wooden table with two chairs beneath a window that gave them an unimpeded view of the blizzard outside. A white dresser with a small television sat atop it across the room from the solitary double bed with a thick, soft-looking pale gold bedspread and no fewer than eight expertly fluffed pillows.
She stepped inside, her bag over her shoulder. James followed her in and shut the door behind them. Neither one of them moved or spoke for several seconds.
Then, James crossed the room to the table, dropped his bag in one of the chairs, and turned and started opening the dresser drawers as if making sure they were empty. After ensuring that they were, he turned his attention to the television. She didn’t know what he was looking for. A camera? Listening devices? A portal to a secret second room?
“Could be worse,” he finally said, turning to face her with his hands on his hips.
Lily stared at him. “How?”
“Could be unclean,” he pointed out. “Could be bare-bones. No TV. No chairs.”
Lily had to admit he was right. She took a deep breath and walked across the room to dump her bag in the other chair. “Could be smelly.”
“The window could be broken,” James said.
“There could be no window,” Lily offered.
“There could be no bed,” James said.
Lily frowned. “That would defeat the purpose of an inn, I think.”
He shrugged. “You never know what you might face in these worst-case scenarios.”
She smiled, and looked around again. “It’s cute.”
“It is,” he agreed.
“The bed could have been bigger,” she said, finally deciding to acknowledge it.
“I can sleep on the floor,” James offered.
Lily shot him a severe look. “You paid for the room. I am not having you sleep on the floor.” And she certainly wasn’t sleeping on the floor, which presented the real issue. “We’ll manage.”
“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, Lily,” James said gently. “I really don’t mind. I’ve slept on the floor before.”
“Please. James. You’re like the least predatory person I know. I feel safer here with you than I would anyone else. Except maybe my dad.” She paused and began searching for her cell phone. “Who I need to call before he believes we’ve perished.”
When she looked up at him, he was staring at her, looking oddly touched.
He cleared his throat when he realised she had caught him. “Thank you. Your assessment of my character means a lot.”
He phrased it in a way that invited her to take it as a joke, but his tone was very serious, as had been the emotion on his face earlier.
“You’ve always been safe, James,” she told him. It was true. Even when she’d found him impossibly annoying and frustrating she had never felt he was particularly dangerous.
He opened his mouth, took a breath as if about to speak, closed his mouth and opened it again. “Good,” he finally settled on. Then he started rummaging through his bag. “Do you need the loo? Only, I want to take a shower. Warm up some.”
Lily turned away from him so he couldn’t see her flush as she tried her damnedest not to think about him in the shower ten feet away from her. “No! Have at it. I’ll just call my dad while you do that.”
Her very worried, very protective, very fatherly father, who would likely have an aneurysm over her sharing a room — much less a bed — with James Potter.
“Deal,” James said with a smile, surfacing from his bag with a change of clothes in his hands. “I won’t be long.”
When he closed the bathroom door behind him, Lily waited until she heard the shower running before she flopped onto her back on the bed and heaved a great sigh. “What have I done?”
She allowed herself a moment to fret before she called her father — James took very quick showers, she knew from years of waiting for him after football practices and matches, and he would be suspicious if she hadn’t even dialed her father yet when he was done.
Her father answered on the first ring. She felt awful because she knew he had likely been staring at his phone waiting for her call since they had stopped texting. She was not the only one with winter road anxiety, after all.
“You’re safe?” he asked for the third time after she explained that they had managed to find an inn.
“Yes, Dad,” she answered yet again. “I’m literally in my room right now, with a locked door between myself and about a dozen feral children.”
“Charge the room to me,” he said. “It’s not like it’s a frivolous trip. You don’t need to pay for it.”
Lily bit her lip. “Well, James already paid.” She hadn’t mentioned the one room yet, and she decidedly would not mention the shared bed. “There was only one room available and he was faster on the draw with his wallet.”
She waited. One. Two.
And then the news caught up to him.
“What! You and James Potter! Sharing a room!”
“Dad, calm down!” she said, trying to keep her voice low so James couldn’t somehow hear. “Like you just said, it’s not like it’s frivolous. It was an emergency. It was truly unavoidable. You really should be grateful there was even a room available! The owner said there wouldn’t have been if some couple hadn’t had to cancel their reservation due to all the snow. Besides, it was already really dangerous for us to be on the road before we found this place. We wouldn’t have been able to go anywhere else. We’d have had to sleep in the car in the lot and frozen to death!”
Lily seriously doubted sweet Molly downstairs would have allowed that. She was sure James wouldn’t have even had to charm her for some blankets and permission for them to kip in the sitting room. Her father didn’t need to know that.
He was silent for a moment. Her father was a father, but he wasn’t an unreasonable man. He had his protective tendencies, especially as a single father, but he could see the sense in situations, even if he didn’t like it. She knew he was warring between sensible relief that she and James were safe and unpleasant thoughts about James and her alone in this cozy room.
“Well,” he finally said. “I will just have to be glad that you’re safe. They’re saying now that the roads may be closed for a few days.”
“Days!” she repeated. She wasn’t sure she could survive one night sharing a bed with James in a cute inn run by a woman who already thought they were a couple, whose son had already bullied James into kissing her, and now she was expected to endure a few days and nights with him?
“Less than ideal, I know,” her father said placatingly. He didn’t even know the half of it. “But you’ll be home for Christmas for sure.”
Christmas was still a week away, and missing out on her family celebration had never been her concern. She was not about to point that out and bring him back around to being overprotective.
“Right, yeah, I know,” she said. “I just miss you, is all.”
It was true. She did miss her father.
“I thought we’d be having cocoa and watching It’s A Wonderful Life tonight,” she continued.
“And biscuits,” her father added.
“In our stupid matching pyjamas.” Nearly a hundred miles away from him, she pouted.
“I miss you, too, sweetheart,” her father murmured. Then, softly, he cleared his throat and changed the subject as he so often did when things threatened to get too emotional. “Have you spoken to your sister recently?”
“Not really,” she said. In truth, she hadn’t spoken to Petunia since they’d last seen one another for their father’s birthday over summer holiday. She didn’t mention it to her father. He was still in denial about how distant his two daughters were. “Let me guess. Mother Nature has ruined her plans and her entire life.”
The laugh in her ear was reluctant. “You’re not far off. Apparently, she and Vernon had plans to spend the weekend at some adorable little inn that was recently remodeled and now they can’t make it. She’s having to reschedule, which she says is such a pain.”
Her father’s tone was teasing, like he thought Petunia was being endearingly dramatic about it all. Normally, Lily would have gotten a good chuckle and an eyeroll out of her sister’s I’m always the victim attitude, but not this time. Her heart sank as she looked around the room.
“Er — that lovely little inn wouldn’t happen to be in Godric’s Hollow, would it?”
There was a pause. “How did you know that?”
“Oh my God, Dad! That’s where we are right now!”
In the very room that had apparently been meant for Petunia and Vernon’s anniversary getaway.
“Oh dear,” he said.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Lily groaned.
“She can never find out about this,” her father said decisively.
“Well, I’m definitely not bringing it up!” Lily said.
“My lips are sealed,” he swore. Then, hesitantly, like he didn’t really want the answer, he said, “Say, Petunia mentioned it was supposed to be a romantic little place.”
For a moment, Lily didn’t so much as breathe.
“I think she would have changed her mind the moment she stepped foot inside and saw the gaggle of children playing in the sitting room,” she said carefully. “One of them even bullied James!”
“Bullied him into what?” her father asked.
Well, she certainly couldn’t mention the skymines everywhere or the coerced kiss.
“He threatened to call Santa on him if James didn’t follow some ridiculous rule his father had invented. I don’t know, he was actually a cute kid,” Lily said. “He had these little glasses and neatly combed hair and four brothers! There were also these little girls, but I don’t think they were part of the same family because the girls were blond and all of the little boys had the most vibrant, shocking red hair. Redder than mine!”
“And the room?” her father asked. She could hear the smile in his voice, like he was genuinely charmed by her story about all the children but well aware she was deflecting.
“Dad, it’s the only room available in the only inn we could safely reach while driving through a blizzard,” she reminded him.
He gave an interested little hum. “The road conditions tell me very little about the furnishings.”
She floundered for a moment. “It’s emergency accommodations, not a romantic getaway. Does it really matter what the room looks like?”
“I am becoming increasingly interested the longer you dodge the question.”
“I dunno, Dad! It’s a room in an inn!” Lily exclaimed. “What details do you want? There’s a television, a dresser, a window, a table and chairs, a bathroom!”
“A bed?” he asked.
“Well, yes,” Lily said, trying very hard to sound exasperated. “Obviously.”
“Two beds?” he continued.
For a moment she couldn't speak. Then, in a very small voice, she said, “Well, no.”
Silence.
A sharp intake of breath.
Lily panicked. “James offered to sleep on the floor! He said he doesn’t mind at all. So. Don’t even worry about it!”
“Of course he did,” her father said gruffly. “And he’d better.”
Suddenly, she realised she could no longer hear the shower running. She sat up quickly, drawing her legs beneath her in the center of the bed as she stared at the thin closed bathroom door between her and James. It was a relatively small room; she was certain her voice would carry from the bed to the bathroom easily. She wondered how much he had overheard, and what he thought about it all.
“Look, Dad, everything’s fine. Okay?” she said in a rush. “But I’ve got to go. My phone’s about to die and I think I’ve left my charger in the car.”
As if on cue — and honestly he had probably been waiting for the appropriate moment to emerge — James opened the bathroom door and stepped out in a pair of grey sweatpants and a long-sleeve white shirt, his hair damp and tousled. If Lily flushed, she had to tell herself it was embarrassment at him overhearing her side of the conversation and not because, well, he looked very handsome.
“Okay, I trust you. I’ll keep you updated on the road closures,” he promised. “And you tell James to keep his hands to himself.”
If Lily wasn’t already flushed at the sight of James, her father’s words would have done it. As would the obtrusive thought that no, she didn’t think she would tell James to keep his hands to himself.
She ducked her head in a desperate attempt to hide her red cheeks as she rolled her eyes and mumbled. “Love you, Dad.”
She knew immediately that it was a lost cause. If James Potter was one thing, he was observant. He’d caught her flush, likely knew it was in reaction to his reappearance. He didn’t mention it, though. She had expected some teasing, some prodding; it was his usual way. Maybe, she considered as she watched him lean over and rummage through his bag again, he was nervous too.
When he straightened again and turned to her, she tried to act like she hadn’t been watching him. His smile the moment their eyes met told her he had noticed. He walked over to the bed and handed her his phone charger. “We can share. I know you never bring yours home.”
“Oh,” she said. Not wanting to admit that she’d lied to her father about her phone being nearly dead to get him to end the call, and pleasantly unsurprised to find that he knew she had a tendency to leave her charger in her dormitory and just steal her father’s when she was home, she took it from him. “Thank you.”
“Any time,” he said quietly as he sat on the edge of the bed.
It was a big enough bed for the two of them for certain, but it wasn’t particularly large and she became painfully aware that she could reach out and touch him without much effort, without even moving from her spot perched in the center.
They had been alone before, obviously, but a majority of the time they’d hung out they had been with other friends, usually his three practically co-dependent roommates and best friends. When they had been alone, they were typically in his car or in public places. Not in a cute little room in a cute little inn sitting on a bed together and isolated from everyone else they knew. The thought made her jittery, and she busied herself with finding a wall outlet to plug the charger into.
He shifted on the bed so he could turn to look at her. She jumped up just as he opened his mouth to speak. He stopped and watched her as she turned to her bag.
“I think I’d like a shower too now!” she announced loudly. She grabbed her whole bag and scurried into the bathroom with it while James blinked after her.
When she had the door closed between them again, she leaned against it trembling.
After a moment, she sighed and shook her head. She was being ridiculous. She shoved off the door, set her bag on the humidity-dampened counter and set to work. It took some effort not to dwell on the fact that the shower walls were wet from James’s shower moments earlier, not to focus on the knowledge that he had stood naked as she was in the exact same spot not ten minutes ago. Had the water run down his chest in rivulets like this? Had it dripped from the ends of his messy hair? She grabbed the little bottle of shampoo the inn provided with shaky hands and knew she was in trouble.
He was still on the bed when she emerged, but he had shifted so he was leaning against the many pillows with his long legs stretched out, one crossed over the other, in front of him. She had spent most of the shower lecturing herself on how to behave normally around a good friend she was incredibly attracted to and suddenly very, very alone with. She hadn’t come up with any particularly good plans of action. The only thing that seemed doable was not throwing herself upon him, and she suddenly doubted her ability to manage even that.
She realised the television was on quietly and he had the clicker in hand, flipping through the channels with the speed of a bored man yearning for something to take up the time. “Anything good?”
Though she had opened the door and walked out silently, he did not startle at the sound of her voice. So, he had been aware of her presence even though he hadn’t looked at her.
“No football in this weather,” he said with a shrug, and turned his head to smirk lazily at her. She shook her head. Though the man loved to play football and was good enough to do so professionally, he had often complained that he hated watching the sport on the telly. He’d much rather view a match in person.
“Well, damn,” she said loftily.
“All they’ve got is Eurovision reruns from three seasons ago,” he grumbled as he clicked the television off. He studied her, taking in her soft black lounge bottoms and fluffy blue sweater. She had purposely chosen something that didn’t look like she was trying to look nice. He blinked a few times, and she wondered what he was thinking. Then he cleared his throat. “Bill — that’s Molly’s oldest, remember? — came by while you were in the shower. He said his mother forgot to tell us that dinner service starts in the dining room at five, but we can always order to the room if we’re peckish outside of set dining hours. He dropped a menu off there.”
He nodded to a trifold pamphlet on the table under the window. She walked over and picked it up, surprised that she hadn’t heard the knock on the door or James speaking to the boy. Had she been that lost in her thoughts?
“Pretty standard fare,” she observed. He hummed in agreement. She walked over to the bed to check the time on her phone. Her father had texted her another reminder to be careful. She ignored the message. “It’s only half three, and I don’t much feel like ordering room service from a pregnant woman who seems to be running the show on her own for the moment.”
“Same track here,” James said. “Want to explore?”
For one wild, baffling, hormone-driven moment, she didn’t know exactly what he meant. Then she realised he meant the inn. Not…each other.
“Sure!” she said. His hair was mostly dry by now, but hers was still dripping, so she did it in a quick bun, regretting that it would inevitably look a mess when she took it down later.
The inn, it turned out, did not have too much in the way of indoor entertainment. They stumbled upon a very modest indoor gym, which Lily knew James would have taken greater interest in had he not just had a shower. In a hallway not far from the gym, they found innumerous photographs lining the walls. They were all photos of the surrounding historical village, Godric’s Hollow, and some had little informational blurbs on a plaque below.
“Some name,” James observed as he read about the founder, Godric Gryffindor, who had apparently committed some heroic acts and saved countless people.
“You’re just jealous because James Potter is comparatively a very ordinary name and you’re very unlikely to have a village named after you,” she said with a teasing little shove.
He looked at her, then rolled his eyes. He was smiling when he turned back to the photographs.
“A village is a bit excessive,” he said after a long enough pause that she thought he had gone back to reading. “I’d settle for a nice, modest round-about.”
Laughing, she shook her head at him.
At the end of the hall, they found a lovely little conservatory made completely of glass — windows and ceiling — and containing a large grand piano. Charlie, the boy who had sprinted past them shouting about skymines, was banging at the keys making ominous discordant sounds that assaulted their senses as Lily and James walked in.
“Well, I do believe we are standing in the presence of a future concert pianist,” James said loud enough for her to hear over the ruckus.
Charlie heard him as well, and so suddenly it was jarring to the senses, the noise stopped. “It’s a dragon attack,” he told them very seriously.
“Sounds like a dragon attack,” Lily said.
“You’re composing the track for a show you’re writing, then?” James asked.
Charlie looked absolutely delighted that James had put two and two together. He beamed, and nodded. “Bill’s writing the words. I’m doing the music. We’re going to make a film.”
“Division of labour,” James said, nodding appreciatively. “Very cool.”
“Charlie! Charlie, where are you?” called an adult male voice.
Lily wondered how on earth that was even a question after the cacophonous piano playing.
“Coming, Dad!” Charlie shouted just as a weary-looking man, tall and thin with the same red hair as all of his sons and wire-rimmed glasses appeared in the doorway.
He stood there, looked around for a moment, and sighed. “Composing again, are you, Charlie?”
“Dragon attack,” James informed him with a solemn nod. “It was very realistic.”
Charlie’s father smiled as the boy slid off of the piano stool and ran to his side. He rested a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Last week it was trolls.”
“Poor village,” Lily muttered gravely. Beside her, James grinned.
“It’s a very tragic tale as far as I’ve gathered,” the man agreed.
“Dad! Don’t give away all the secrets!” Charlie protested, glaring up at his father.
“Very sorry, son,” his father said, winking at James and Lily. “Arthur Weasley, by the way. You must be the young couple who showed up this afternoon. Molly told me about you.”
Lily’s stomach flipped. She looked at James, who was still smiling even if it seemed a bit strained now.
“James Potter,” he said. “And this is Lily Evans. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Well, Charlie, we’d best get going. Your mother needs help preparing for dinner,” Arthur said. Charlie immediately ran off in the direction of the dining room, and Arthur smiled at James and Lily. “Don’t worry. The boys set the tables. Molly and I handle the cooking. Well, mostly Molly, but I try to help.”
“They’re such a kind family,” Lily said quietly when they were left alone again.
James nodded. “You can really tell there’s a lot of love there.”
Lily hummed and began to walk across the room to look out at the billowing storm. She could barely see anything other than swirling white snow. It was already piling up inches thick on the ground, pressing in against the windows like an inverted snowglobe.
“That’s the dream,” she mused.
“The blizzard or the football team full of children?” James’s voice was surprisingly close behind her — she hadn’t realised he’d followed her to the edge of the room — but she didn’t startle at it.
“Neither.” She laughed and shook her head. “The overwhelming love and affection. A husband who gives credit without prompting, who would be such a doting father to our children, who would plant skymines everywhere just for the excuse to cuddle the kids.”
“I have a feeling Arthur had ulterior motives.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “They’re expecting their sixth son after all.”
She rolled her eyes, but he had a point. “It’s sweet. But I think I’d give up after about three kids.”
“Give up?” James asked.
“Six sons? James, they’re desperate for a daughter,” Lily surmised.
“It’s always been odd to me,” he said thoughtfully. He was frowning out at the snow when she looked over her shoulder at him. “That people care about the sex of their children. I mean, you can dress a son up nice if you want a daughter for dress-up. You can play sports with a daughter. You can read whatever books you want to your children regardless. You just gotta love them and care for them.”
“Thought about it a lot, have you?” Lily said in a teasing tone in an attempt to ignore the deep swirl of attraction his words had stirred in her.
He met her eyes and shrugged, unabashed. “Not really. Just enough to decide I’d like to start a family before I’m in my forties. As far as what that family looks like? I don’t give a shit as long as it’s happy and healthy and full of love.”
“Your parents love you,” she said softly. “And they were in their forties when you were born.”
“Yes, they do,” James agreed swiftly. “And they spoiled the hell out of me, which I recall you didn’t particularly appreciate when we were children, but…”
“I didn’t care that they spoiled you!” Lily interrupted. “I cared that you were bigheaded about it!”
“Right, that part,” he said. “But they were in their forties. Damn near sixty when I was going through puberty. Approaching seventy now. Maybe they had all the time and money in the world for me, but they didn’t always have the energy. And now they’re running out of time.”
It was a startlingly vulnerable thing to say. Lily stared at him. He was looking outside again, but there was a distant look in his eyes, a kind of precognitive grief. She took a step back towards him and slid her hand into his. Slowly, his head turned towards her.
He had never hidden how much he loved his parents. In fact, he spoke about them more openly than most people did and drove home more often than most people would consider convenient given the distance. Once he had driven three hours to surprise his mother at a charity luncheon simply because she had mentioned offhand that she hated going alone, and then drove three hours back to uni that same afternoon so he wouldn’t miss an early morning exam the next day.
“They’re fine!” he said quickly. “They’re healthy! Mum still terrorises half the country and Dad’s still convinced he could take me in football. They’re just…”
“Tired,” Lily said softly.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “They’re tired. And more often than I’d like, I find myself doing mental maths about it.” He looked away again and she knew he was doing the maths he hated doing. “If I waited until I was forty to have kids, they’d be in their eighties. They’d probably be around to meet them.”
“You want them to do more than meet them.” It wasn’t a question. She knew it.
“Yeah, I do,” he said. “I’d like for them to know their grandchildren. Play with them. Spoil them a bit.”
Lily rolled her eyes. “Not spoil them.”
He laughed. “Come on. A little bit.”
“You know what? Fair,” she said. Her grandparents had spoiled her a little when she was a child. “So, how many children in this happy, loving, healthy family of yours?”
“More than one,” he told her with a casual shrug. “It can be lonely being an only child.”
“It can be lonely having one sibling, as well,” Lily said. “When said sibling suddenly decides they hate you.”
“So you and Sirius have both said,” James said, looking annoyed at the thought of jealous, spiteful siblings as he usually did. “I wouldn’t let that happen, though.”
Lily snorted. “How are you going to stop sibling rivalry?”
“It’s all in the parenting,” James said sagely, with all the wisdom he did not actually have.
“Hey! Maybe Sirius had awful parents.” If Sirius was to be believed, which he generally was, his parents were genuinely evil. “But mine were great.”
His expression softened, and he relented immediately. “You’re right. Guess I’ll just have to have three. In case one turns out disappointing.”
Lily laughed. She seriously doubted James would be the kind of father to write off a disappointing child the way Sirius’s parents had written him off. He would probably be more like her father, maintaining a close relationship with both children while trying desperately — and futilely — to mend the gap between them.
“Anyway,” James said before she could manage a suitably teasing response. “Do you think it’s too early to head to the dining area? Only, I am actually getting pretty hungry.”
“Something tells me the Weasleys won’t mind if we’re early,” Lily said.
Neither of them dropped the other’s hand as they walked out of the conservatory.
-
It was all very strange, being so awkward and twitchy around James. She had never been nervous around him before in the nearly fifteen years they’d known each other. Not really, not when they were usually surrounded by other people. She wasn’t naive. She’d known for years that she was attracted to him. The knowledge had frustrated her to no end at first, when she’d still thought he was one of the most annoying people she knew, but it had slowly become just another fact of life. Acceptable. Steady.
James Potter was fit. It was what it was.
Unfortunately, it was more difficult to feel steady about it when she was preparing to slide into bed beside him. Not that she had been particularly level-headed about it at all since they’d entered the inn.
Dinner had been fine. She’d managed to chat with him as if nothing was different, as if all these complicated feelings weren’t suddenly so irrepressible. Of course, they’d been surrounded by people again, other inn patrons seeking shelter from the storm. They’d also had the distraction of food and several children running around the room. James had even gone on a wildly amusing, hushed angry tangent about the bloke sitting near the dining room entrance reading an Andrew Tate book.
Now, as she waited for James to finish brushing his teeth — he was taking a surprisingly long time, and it was a comforting thought that he might be feeling suddenly off-kilter again as well — she was practically trembling where she stood brushing the tangles out of her hair.
It was still snowing out; she could see it falling through the window. Her father had texted her after they got back from dinner with the latest update: meteorologists had advised everyone to plan to be snowed in for at least the next three days. Lily was relieved that the inn, at least, seemed well-prepared. Her father had assured her that he was also prepared, and that Petunia and Vernon had assured him of their safety as well.
James had called his parents when they got back to the room, and had told her with great relief after they hung up that they were well-stocked and more worried about him and Lily. It was snowing back at uni, but there was no blizzard, so Sirius — who had stayed in their dormitory to enjoy his likewise parentless new girlfriend’s company — was fine, and none of their other friends were experiencing the blizzard the way they were.
All that was left, in the absence of worry over their loved ones, was to go to bed.
Easy.
The bathroom door opened, and James walked out. He looked at her standing near the window, brush still in hand, and then looked at the bed.
“Er — which side would you rather?” he asked.
“Huh? Oh. It doesn’t matter,” she said, heart racing. “Actually…can I have the window?”
He nodded. “I prefer to be near the door, anyway.”
He drew back the covers on his side, tossed a few extraneous pillows onto one of the chairs, and slid into bed just as casually as she was sure he did every night. Once he was situated, he took his glasses off, folded them, and placed them on the table next to him. Lily hesitated, very aware that he was pretending not to pay attention to her, before she reached for the mountain of pillows on her side and began moving them to the other chair.
“Do you mind if I leave the curtains open?” she asked softly. “I like the moonlight.”
“I don’t mind,” he said, and she slid into bed beside him. She felt him shift and then there was a click and the lamp by the bed went dark.
She rolled onto her side to stare out of the window, the covers drawn securely up to her chin as she tried to steady her racing heart. She was too aware of his presence just behind her. There was distance between them, as much distance as she could manage, but she could hear him breathing and she could feel his gaze on her.
“I’m not going to bite, Lily,” he murmured after several moments of silence. “You look like you’re going to fall off the edge of the bed in the night.”
“I’m not avoiding you,” she said, immediately defensive.
“That’s not what I said.” He sighed quietly. “Just suggesting you get comfortable.”
She said nothing for a moment, working her bottom lip between her teeth as she continued to watch the snow fall. Then, slowly, she rolled to her back and turned her head to face him. He was on his back, still, and his head was turned towards her. He smiled slowly — on anyone else, she would have called it shy — when her leg brushed his.
“Sorry,” she said quickly, pulling her leg back like it burned.
“It’s fine,” he told her.
“Is it?” she whispered. He studied her silently. “This is weird, right? I’m not crazy? This is weird?”
“You’re not crazy,” he finally said. “Of course you’re not crazy. I can still sleep on the floor.”
“You’re the crazy one if you think I’ll let you sleep on the floor,” she said, a warning tone in her voice that made him smile again.
He huffed out a loud breath. “It’s barely even nine o’clock. I seriously doubt either of us will be asleep anytime soon regardless.”
There was still nothing on the telly. She had checked briefly when they’d first gotten back to the room, which was why they had ultimately decided to head to bed so early.
“I thought you were an early riser,” she said. It was a well-known fact that James woke with the sun — sometimes even earlier — and went for a run and was back and showered before any of their friends had begun to stir.
“Yeah, but…” He smiled wryly. “You think I go to sleep at nine?”
She considered for a moment and realised that they had spent time together late at night many times before and he had never seemed particularly tired then. “Probably not. I guess I’ve never really thought about your sleep schedule.”
“I’m devastated,” he said dryly.
“Sorry,” she said with a little half-shrug.
“All these years we’ve known each other, and you’ve never stopped to think about what time I go to bed,” he shook his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “How could you be so selfish?”
She nearly told him that she had wondered a great many things about him, but thought better of it. In truth, she did think of him often. She wondered what he was doing when they weren’t in the same class, or when he took a little longer than usual to answer a text message. She worried over if he would still want to hang out after football practice or if he would be too tired — he always still wanted to hang out. She had always kept her thoughts pertaining to him safely away from bedrooms, especially last year when he’d had a girlfriend.
Marlene McKinnon had been James’s first serious girlfriend. They’d met their first weekend at uni, and she and James had dated for nearly the entire school year before breaking up just before last summer. Lily had done her best not to think about James much at all last year. She hadn’t done a particularly good job of it.
“It seems a rather intimate detail,” she said.
He blinked, then he looked at her for a moment. It seemed to take him a second to decide on a response. “I am an open book, Lily Evans. I’ll have you know I go to bed around eleven or twelve.”
“Every night?” She was surprised that the small detail made her want to know more. “Seems pretty late for such an early riser.”
“I live with Sirius,” he pointed out. “He would never let me go to bed early on a regular basis. Anyway, I average five to six hours a night and make up for it on Sundays when I am gloriously lazy and do not wake up early to run and don’t really hang out with anyone.”
This, too, surprised her. “We literally hung out last Sunday.”
He paused. “Well, you don’t count.”
“I don’t count?” she repeated, unsure if that should be offensive or complimentary.
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way!” he said quickly. “I meant…of course you count. But you don’t…” he stopped himself. “I enjoy being around you more than I value my recovery day.”
It struck her then how often he rearranged his schedule to hang out with her. Didn’t he drop everything to drive home with her for a weekend whenever she told him she missed her father? Now that she thought about it, he probably would like to rest after football practice sometimes. And now he was telling her that he apparently sacrificed his Sunday solitude for her as well whenever she wanted to see him.
Suddenly, she felt much less nervous about their situation. Sure, she was still off-kilter. She still wasn’t completely certain how she should act. But if she accidentally said or did something that hinted at her growing feelings for him? Well, suddenly it didn’t seem like the end of the world if he knew.
“Well, since I now know you’re such a night owl,” Lily said, making James snort a little light laughter, “what should we do to pass the time until your bedtime?”
“I doubt there's anything on the telly,” James said.
“You mean you don't want to watch Fawlty Towers reruns for three hours?” she asked, failing miserably to hide her humour.
“To be completely honest with you, Lily,” James said with a severe, straight face, “I would rather kill myself.”
“Well, we can’t have that,” Lily said decisively. “How would I get home without you to drive me?”
“I’ll leave my car to you. You’ve driven it before,” he said on a heavy sigh, staring at the ceiling.
“In these road conditions?” she pointed out. “I’d be joining you in the afterlife sooner than I’d like.”
His head turned on his pillow to look at her again. “Fair point. I guess I’ve got to stick around.”
She smiled at him, and he smiled back. They were quiet for a moment. Lily’s thoughts drifted to the many card games and board games the children had been playing in the sitting room earlier. “I bet the children left all those games downstairs.”
“You want to play Happy Families?” James asked with a laugh.
“Better than nothing!” she argued, crossing her arms over her chest beneath the covers as she pouted at him. “I’m pretty sure I saw Ludo as well.”
“I definitely saw Scrabble,” James said.
“Nice.” She nodded appreciatively, and it did not escape her notice that he made no mention of the chessboard that had been set up in front of the fireplace earlier. She had long since refused to play chess with him — the man was a wizard at chess.
“Now the question is — do we want to go back downstairs?”
It was a good question. Ten minutes ago, she likely would have leapt from the bed eager to get some distance from him. Now, not so much. He didn’t look particularly eager to get up either.
“We could bring a game up here,” she suggested. “Play it in bed.”
A strange look flashed across his face, but it was too quick for her to put a name to it. “We could.”
“You really don’t want to get out of bed, do you?” she asked.
“I really don’t,” he told her.
“It’s not a Sunday. It’s not your lazy day,” she teased.
“Yeah, well, another detail about me you probably haven’t considered: once I am comfortable in bed, I am very reluctant to leave until it’s time to start the day.”
She shook her head, smiling. “Well, I could go down and grab a game and bring it back up.”
“No,” he said quickly, and seriously. “If you really want a game, I’ll go down and get it.”
It struck her that his serious tone was actually, well, serious. He wasn’t joking about it like he had been earlier.
“But you just said…” she trailed off, confused.
“You’re not going wandering around alone near a bunch of strangers at night,” he told her. “I especially didn’t like the look of that one bloke at dinner.”
She knew who he was talking about. The guy reading the manosphere book. Lily didn’t particularly want to be around a guy who read Andrew Tate’s books for fun, but she didn’t see the danger in running downstairs to grab a board game really quickly. But James was already shifting, rolling over and preparing to get up. Clearly, this was an important boundary for him. She chose not to test it at the moment.
She grabbed his wrist. “It’s fine, James. Maybe tomorrow we can ask the kids if we can play a game with them.”
He stopped and looked back over his shoulder at her. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” She nodded decisively. “Lie back down.”
He did as she asked, and she realised far too belatedly that her hand was still wrapped around his wrist. She released him quickly and dropped her arm over her stomach on top of the covers.
“So, we’re back to square one,” she sighed.
“We can just keep talking,” he said.
“What do you want to talk about?” she asked.
“Tell me something you’ve never told me before,” James suggested. His soft brown eyes shone back at her from just a foot or two away in the sparse light.
“Why do I have to go first?” she asked, pouting.
He laughed. “I already went! I told you all about my sleeping habits and my lazy Sundays.”
“I guess that’s fair,” she said. “Not that I realised you were going to expect me to reveal my secrets as well.”
“Tit for tat, Lily,” James said lightly.
She rolled her eyes, and thought. What could she tell him that he didn’t already know about her? She was sure there was a lot he didn’t know, little details she hadn’t thought to mention just like he hadn’t mentioned his bedtime before. She could think of nothing. Her mind kept circling back to one very large, very James-specific secret.
“I hated Marlene.”
She regretted the admission immediately. It was too much, too vulnerable, too obvious. She wished more than anything that she could take the words back and say something more innocuous, but she could see that James was already processing the information.
He blinked at her. “I thought you were friends.”
She had tried very hard to like Marlene. Because James had loved her. But there was just something — and Lily strongly suspected it was the fact that James had loved her — that Lily couldn’t stand about her. She had played nice, had been friendly, had attended girls’ nights out with Marlene and their mutual friends, and all the while she had bitterly disliked the girl.
“That’s what I wanted you to think,” Lily said quietly. “I didn’t want you to think I was jealous,” she forced a laugh, “or anything stupid like that.”
“Were you?” James asked. It was dark. Lily could have been imagining the hopeful look on his face. “Jealous?”
Lily played with the edge of the sheet. “She’s brilliant.”
“You’re brilliant,” James said immediately.
“She’s very pretty,” Lily continued.
James rolled over onto his side, his entire body angled towards her. “You’re beautiful.”
Lily felt very hot. She kicked her leg out from under the covers, immediately drew it back in. The air was very cold.
“You were always with her,” she whispered.
“Now I’m always with you,” he pointed out very, very softly.
“James…” she trailed off uncertainly.
“I’m the one who broke Edgar’s nose,” James said suddenly.
Lily froze. “You…what?”
Edgar was the boy Lily had been dating last year. They hadn’t been together very long when she discovered he’d been sleeping with about half of England since they’d started seeing one another and she’d ditched him not long before Christmas. He was the boy James was trying to cheer her up about when she’d nearly lost control of his car last winter.
“He cheated on you,” James said. “He hurt you. And I wasn’t going to do anything — really, I wasn’t — but one night I was hanging out with Sirius and Remus and we saw him at the same pub as us and he was trying to pull a girl and I just…lost it.”
Her mind was reeling. “I can’t believe no one ever told me.”
“Yeah, well…” James seemed to find the pillowcase seam very interesting all of a sudden. He couldn’t tear his gaze from it to meet her eyes. “Marlene was pretty adamant that no one should tell you. Er — when you saw him after, you kept saying that you’d snog the sense out of whoever made him look like that.”
“Oh my God,” she said.
“Marlene was pretty upset,” James admitted. “It, er, caused a pretty big row. And you threatening to kiss his assailant… well…”
“So she didn’t like me, either,” Lily realised out loud.
“She liked you,” James said quickly, and his gaze snapped up to meet hers again. “She did. She was just very jealous of our friendship.”
Lily stared at him. “She was jealous of me?”
“Yeah.” James shrugged as if it was nothing. Lily suspected it was very much not nothing. “She was convinced you fancied me. And, well, that I fancied you too. It’s…not entirely unrelated to why we broke up.”
For a very long moment, she just stared at him, thoughts racing. James and Marlene had broken up — at least in part — because of her? Because Marlene was convinced James fancied her? Marlene had been jealous of her, too?
“Did you?” she breathed.
“Did I…fancy you?” James asked.
“Yes,” she said.
James was silent, staring at her. She was more aware than ever that they were sharing a bed.
“I did,” he whispered. “Did you?”
“Of course I did,” she said immediately.
His smile came quickly and was intensely happy and relieved, and his hand touched hers beneath the covers. “Past tense only?”
Heart hammering, she shook her head wordlessly. His hand shifted to her waist; his face moved closer.
“Would it be terrible of me to ask if I can kiss you?” he said on a shaky breath. “Under the circumstances, I would understand if you were uncomfortable.”
She shook her head again. “I think it would be pretty terrible if you didn’t kiss me.”
And then, suddenly, his lips were on hers. He was gentle, but sure in his movements. Lily could feel her pulse in her ears. Her skin was on fire. She pushed closer to him and his mouth became a little less gentle on hers as their lips parted and tongues met.
His hands fell low on her waist when they rolled and she ended up on top of him, thighs bracketing his hips. She parted her lips from his, laughing suddenly.
“What?” he asked breathlessly, looking a little dazed. She shook her head as he smiled at her. “No, tell me. What is it?”
“I just remembered. My dad wanted me to tell you to keep your hands to yourself,” she said.
“Oh.” He drew his hands back. “I will, if you ask me to.”
“What are you doing?” She gripped his hands and moved them back to her waist. “I didn’t ask you to. In fact…” She took one of his hands again and moved it to her chest.
“Oh my God,” he muttered. “This is a dream. This is a really, really nice dream.”
She laughed and leaned down and kissed him again.
-
She woke up sore in a deliciously delightful way. It had been a long time since she had been with a man. Nearly a year. She had, at times, hated how long it had been. Now that she had ended her dry spell with James Potter of all people, she was grateful she hadn’t thrown herself at a random bloke.
His arm was heavy on her waist, his chest hot on her back. She was wearing his long-sleeved shirt. It was still snowing outside, and there was a layer of snow an inch thick on the windowsill outside. She was uncommonly cozy.
He pressed his lips to the back of her neck and she smiled and rolled over to face him. Her smile only widened when she took stock of him. His hair was a disaster, even more so than it usually was. He had pillow crease lines on his cheek, and his eyes were sleepy like he had been dozing on and off while he waited for her to wake up.
“Lazy morning?” she asked.
“Can’t exactly go for a run,” he told her.
“I think there was a treadmill in the gym,” she pointed out. She couldn't stop herself from reaching up to run her fingers through his hair in an attempt to straighten it. She smiled, charmed, when her attempt proved futile.
“It's going to stay like that until I wash it,” he informed her, smirking. When she started to draw her hand back, he continued quickly. “Not that I mind you touching it!”
She laughed quietly and resumed playing with the messy strands. He smiled contentedly.
“Anyway, I did think of going to the gym,” he continued. “But I didn't want you to wake up alone and get the wrong idea.”
“What idea would that be?” she murmured.
“That last night didn't mean anything to me,” he said quietly.
“And that would be inaccurate?”
“That would be very highly inaccurate,” he told her. “It would be a terrible thing for you to think.”
She smiled softly and shook her head. “I wouldn't have thought that.”
“Good,” he said.
“It meant a lot to me, too,” she said. It seemed unnecessary to her. It seemed obvious, given their position and the intimacy of the morning thus far, but she figured he might appreciate the words. Judging by his smile, she was right.
“Good,” he said again.
For several long, warm, cozy moments they lay there holding each other. Then, Lily stretched and looked around for a clock. “What time is it?”
James released her waist to roll over and grab his phone from the stand beside him. “About half seven.”
“God, that's practically midday for you,” she teased.
He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, then stroked one hand through her hair, making her wonder how messy hers was. “Unusually early for you, though.”
It wasn't really. She usually woke up around eight. She was pretty sure he knew that considering they — along with a few of their other friends — met for breakfast often enough before class. But truthfully, she wasn't ready to get up.
“I could doze a bit longer,” she admitted. “I'd be fine alone if you want to go down to the gym.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. She nodded. “You're not just trying to get rid of me?”
She laughed and rolled her eyes at him. “Absolutely, yes, I am. You take up far too much space in this bed.”
“Fine, I’ll go if you insist!” he said, but he smiled as he rolled away from her and to his feet.
She watched him as he rummaged through his bag comfortable in front of her in nothing but his shorts. She watched him pull on a pair of loose black tracksuit bottoms and a grey t-shirt. She watched him drag a grey hoodie over his head. She watched him as he sat in the chair to lace up his trainers. She watched him as he looked up and saw her watching him.
He blinked, and smiled, and stood to walk over to her where he leaned over the bed and kissed her soft and slow.
“I’ll be back,” he murmured against her lips.
“I certainly hope so,” she replied.
He chuckled as he straightened and picked up his phone. He turned back to his bag and she saw him pull out his earbuds a moment later.
“Should I take the key, or leave it with you?” he asked and she realised for the first time that they had only received one key. Usually, at actual hotels at least, there were two. Maybe considering the inn used actual metal keys rather than keycards, they only had the one for each room.
“I’m not leaving the room,” she told him. Likely, she wouldn’t even leave the bed. “You take it.”
“Okay,” he said. He slid the key into his pocket and then stood there looking at her for a moment. She wondered what he saw. One of his best friends? A girl he had slept with last night? A bit of both? Or more? Hopefully more. Probably more, she rationalised. Before the moment could get weird or funny or awkward, he suddenly turned towards the door. “Okay, I’m going. Be back soon.”
And then he was gone.
Lily lay in bed for a long while. James did, truthfully, take up a lot of space in this relatively unspacious bed. She did not, however, find herself enjoying the loss of his presence. It wasn’t bad to be alone. It was just that she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She went on her phone, checked in with her friends in the group chat that James was part of, reassured her father that she was perfectly fine and James was no threat to her and decidedly did not mention the sudden and irreversible shift their relationship had taken last night. She scrolled TikTok and promptly closed the app when she realised she had shared three videos to James in the span of twenty minutes.
She decided to take a shower as it would stop her from embarrassing herself by unthinkingly blowing up his social media notifications.
She took her time, but since she wasn’t washing her hair again there was only so long she could spend in the shower before she got bored of it, so she got out and decided to do her makeup. Not for James’s benefit, she reminded herself, but for something to do.
Her phone chimed, and she impressed herself by finishing her winged liner before she picked it up. For one moment she was disappointed that it was Sirius in the group chat. His message didn’t immediately make sense to her: something about the betrayal of James having replaced him.
Then she realised he was responding to a selfie James had sent from the gym a good fifteen minutes ago. It was a mirror selfie. He was standing on the treadmill, a light sheen of sweat evident on his arms as his hoodie was folded over the arm of the machine. Behind him, dangling upside down from a metal bar she was fairly certain was supposed to hold weights, was Bill Weasley. Sat on a leg lift machine next to James, looking very much like he was happily chatting James’s ear off, was Charlie Weasley.
He had captioned the photo:
Good morning from Godric’s Hollow. Hitting the gym with the boys.
She smiled, and tapped a quick message out.
Sorry Sirius, but I’m pretty sure Charlie has claimed James as his new best friend.
Sirius’s response was immediate, and exactly as expected: Who the fuck is Charlie?
She didn’t reply. A moment later, a second photo popped up. It was a close up of a grinning Charlie lying down on a weight bench with a child-sized dumbbell in each hand extended over his head. She could only assume he was either mimicking what he watched James do or he had talked James into coaching him.
Charlie, James sent.
Then a picture of a barefoot Bill on the treadmill now, missing front teeth on full display.
My other new best friend, Bill, he captioned it.
I’m choosing to take comfort in the fact that Remus has apparently been replaced as well, Sirius replied a moment later.
You haven’t seen Percy yet, Lily sent.
James sent three laughing emojis.
Who the fuck is Percy? Sirius asked.
Or the twins, James added.
Oh God, the twins! They’re so cute! Lily replied.
Evans hasn’t recruited you into some ginger cult, has she? Sirius demanded.
Lily rolled her eyes and went back to her makeup.
Her phone chimed several times in quick succession, but she ignored it as she picked up her hairbrush and went to work making her hair look nice as well.
When she finally turned back to her phone, she saw that more of their friends had chimed in.
There was Mary with Now there’s a cult?
And Remus with There’s no way you’re actually jealous of a bunch of children?
Then Dorcas: Careful, I’ve heard they have no souls.
Then Dorcas again: But, of course, Lily is the exception. You have a soul. A beautiful one.
Then James: Quite right, she does.
I’m not even ginger. I’ve just got red hair! Lily typed.
Sirius responded with a photoshopped picture of James, shirtless, with ginger hair and much paler skin covered in freckles. She covered her mouth to muffle her cackle.
Burn it! said Dorcas immediately.
Thanks, I hate that that image will forever live rent-free in my head, Mary said.
I have unfortunately seen him looking much worse than this, sent Remus.
Just a little glimpse of James and Lily’s future son right here, Sirius said.
Lily stared at his message. She wondered if James had seen the photo and messages yet, or if he had gone back to working out. Part of her wanted to wait for his reaction before she said anything, but she also realised it wouldn’t be fair to either of them for her to always wait and follow his lead going forward.
At least make the hair my actual hair colour if you’re trying to blend our features, she said.
Quickly, almost as if he had been waiting for this request, Sirius sent an altered version of James with hair that was very close in colour to Lily’s.
Lily laughed at the image for a good minute.
Green eyes, James requested.
She bit her lip and waited for Sirius’s response.
What the hell is happening? Mary asked.
Sirius’s next edit popped up and there was James, skin his actual shade now, hair and eyes the colour of Lily’s.
Sirius is photoshopping my future children with James. Keep up, Mare, Lily said.
A text message notification — not in the co-ed group chat, but the girls-only thread between Lily, Mary, and Dorcas — popped up on the top of her screen. Lily tapped it.
Do you have something to tell us, Lily? Dorcas asked.
I was literally coming here for the same reason! Mary sent right away.
Lily hesitated. I have a lot to tell you.
Oh my God. That was Mary.
Oh my God. That was Dorcas, in the exact same instant.
Lily grinned. We should catch up over drinks when we get back to uni.
The response was as expected.
No! Mary protested.
You can’t expect us to wait three weeks! Dorcas said.
It’s an awful lot to type, Lily said, intentionally winding them up.
So call! Mary suggested.
No, then I’d have to explain it all twice. Better just wait. She grinned, and backed out of the girls’ chat.
She had a text from James she hadn’t noticed come through. He’d probably sent it when their friends were spamming the larger group chat and she had been looking away from her phone.
I miss you.
The grin from torturing Mary and Dorcas shifted into something softer, something fond, something a little shy feeling. She bit her lip.
You’re ridiculous, she informed him.
Then, before he could see the first text and think she was serious, I miss you too.
He responded by way of grinning, blushing emoji. Then, The group chat has gone suspiciously silent. Are the girls also questioning you?
Yes, she said.
Then, to clarify for herself, she added, Sirius and Remus took it to the boys’ chat, then?
Surprisingly enough, it was Remus who started it, he told her.
That was surprising, actually. Remus was usually the quieter of James’s friends while Sirius was the one who demanded. Information, attention, time, it didn’t matter what it was. If it was James’s to share, Sirius expected him to share it.
Perhaps Sirius had been too preoccupied with his photoshop sidequest to fully register that she and James were going along with his bit without protest.
I’m not sure what you’d like me to tell them, James continued.
Biting her bottom lip, she considered. I suppose you could tell them I’m your girlfriend. If you want.
His response was immediate. Yeah?
Seems more polite than telling them we shagged, she teased, although she fully expected him to tell the boys about that aspect as certainly as she intended to tell the girls. Eventually, once she was done torturing them. The notifications from them were still popping up on the top of her screen.
Did you tell the girls that I’m your boyfriend, then? he asked.
If it’s alright with you, I’d like to tell them that. Once dangling the information over their heads ceases to be amusing, she said.
He laugh-reacted to that, then sent, I would love that.
Her cheeks were beginning to ache from smiling so much, but she couldn’t help herself. Now we’ve got that settled, are you even working out anymore?
I was trying, but then Bill and Charlie interrupted, and now that Molly’s called the boys off to help with breakfast, the group chats have both started kicking off, he told her.
I’m sorry your workout was interrupted, she said.
It’s alright. Bill and Charlie are very funny, at least.
A text notification came through from her dad. She tapped it to find he had sent her another weather update. Apparently, the snow was expected to stop late tonight or tomorrow morning, then a day or so for roads to clear. She ‘liked’ the update just as James texted again.
Are you okay if I work out for thirty more minutes or so?
Why wouldn’t I be okay with that?
Because you miss me, obviously.
She scoffed. You missed me first!
I put it in writing first, at least.
Go work out, sweaty, she said.
I’ll show you sweaty, in approximately thirty minutes.
She laughed. Please don’t.
Thirty minutes later on the dot, he did. She heard the key in the door and she stood from the bed to greet him as he walked in. Despite the chill in the air — she was wearing a jumper now — he was drenched in sweat, his hoodie clenched in one fist as he locked the door behind him. He must have really locked into his workout when they’d stopped texting.
He grinned when he saw her.
“Hi, girlfriend,” he said, a goofy lovestruck tone to his voice.
“Welcome back, boyfriend,” she said, smiling at him. “Please take a shower before you kiss me.”
“How did you know I was planning to kiss you?” he asked.
“Everything about you right now screams I want to kiss you,” she said, backing up as he walked towards her.
“Well, if you want to kiss me so badly…” he teased.
“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” she said, sternly holding up a hand to keep him from touching her. “You are the sweatiest person I have ever seen in my life.”
“Are you saying you don’t want to kiss me?” he asked.
“That’s…not entirely what I’m saying,” she said. She was very near to folding. Truth be told, she wasn’t completely opposed to kissing him fresh after a workout. But kissing him right now when being covered in his sweat would make her want to shower again, after she had spent the better part of an hour doing her hair and makeup just for the hell of it? “I would like you to shower so that we are both clean before I snog the sense out of you.”
“My sense is long gone, I fear,” he said, but he didn’t press her. He turned and headed back towards the bathroom. He had his shirt off and was already pulling his trackpants down by the time he hit the doorway and called over his shoulder, “I was hoping I could convince you to join me, but clearly missed my chance on that this morning. You look really nice!”
He didn’t close the bathroom door. She heard the shower turn on.
“Did you tell the girls?” he called.
“Are you really planning to have a conversation while you shower?” she called back.
He was quiet for half a second. “Why not? I can’t have you go on missing me.”
She groaned. “Are you going to forever frame that as if you didn’t say you missed me first?”
The glass shower door shut as he presumably stepped inside.
“Probably,” he said, entirely too chipper for her liking. “I told Sirius and Remus not to bring the information to the larger group chat yet because I wasn’t sure if you were still being evil to Mary and Dorcas.”
“Wow,” she said, giving up and walking into the bathroom to sit on the counter next to the sink so they didn’t have to shout at one another. “I’ve been your girlfriend for all of half an hour and already you’re calling me evil.”
“Are you in here?” he asked. “Only, you sound suspiciously close by.”
“You’re the one who insisted on having a conversation and invited me to join you in the shower,” she reminded him. “Besides, it’s frosted glass. I can’t see anything.”
She nearly offered to leave if he was uncomfortable, but he replied before she could.
“You saw it all last night anyway.”
She felt her face flush. “It was dark. I didn’t actually see much,” she admitted.
He took a moment to reply. “Well, I’m practically blind. I probably saw even less than you did if that makes you feel any better.”
She smiled. “I wasn’t feeling weird about it,” she assured him. “I liked what I felt, anyway.”
“Me too,” he said. “I would like to see what I’m feeling, though.”
“Glasses on, lights on next time, then?” she suggested.
He laughed. “Exactly.”
“Alright,” she agreed, grinning.
“So, did you tell them?” he asked again.
“Hmm? Oh, Dorcas and Mary? No, not yet,” she admitted. “It’s kind of fun keeping them hanging.”
“You know the longer you make them wait the more information they’ll demand to make up for it,” he said.
“I’ll prepare a Powerpoint presentation for them,” she said. “Photos and all.”
“Photos? I did not consent to you sharing intimate photos of me with your friends,” James said.
“Okay, nix the photos. I’ll just draw it all,” she countered, already covering her mouth to hide her laughter.
“You are a terrible artist, Lily Evans,” James said.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make it look massive,” she said, choking back a laugh. “Or better yet, I’ll just ask Sirius to Photoshop a bunch of photos. I’m sure he’d love to participate.”
“Oh, Jesus Christ.”
“You know, you were right to continue the conversation while you shower,” Lily said. “I’m enjoying myself.”
The water turned off and the door opened so suddenly she didn’t even have time to prepare herself before she was faced with her naked, dripping wet boyfriend.
“Oh,” was all she could say.
“Lights on, as you said,” he reminded her, smirking.
“Your glasses are still off,” she said dumbly, picking them up where they sat beside her.
“And your clothes are still on, so I don’t need them. I know what I look like naked,” he pointed out.
“You are…very confident,” she said haltingly.
“This isn’t new information to you,” he said. “Besides, shouldn’t I be confident?”
She stared at him openly. She didn’t bother trying not to, or pretending she was trying not to. He had opened the door so suddenly because he wanted her to look at him like this.
“As you said, you know what you look like,” she said.
And dear God, fresh from a workout? She had never seen a more attractive naked bloke. Granted, she hadn’t seen many naked blokes period, but she couldn’t imagine a better-looking naked body.
He stepped closer to her. She looked up into his face to see he was still smirking at her.
“Are you trying to seduce me?” she asked.
“That depends on if it’s working,” he replied.
“It is,” she assured him as his damp hands went to her waist. “But I was kind of hoping we were going to eat breakfast soon?”
He paused, his lips centimetres from hers, and laughed. “Okay, that’s fair. Let me get dressed.”
“I could really go either way about it,” she said as he reached for a towel and began to dry himself off.
“Well, since we’ve got a time limit on breakfast, let’s take it in that direction,” he said, still smiling. She got the distinct impression that he liked that she was comfortable enough to talk about breakfast while he was full on trying to seduce her. “Because as far as I’m concerned, we can go the other direction at any time.”
“Very practical of you,” she said as she jumped down from the counter and walked back into the room, heading for the bed where she sat legs crossed to watch him get ready.
“I do try for practicality. Sometimes,” he said.
“You know, I’ve realised another very practical concern,” she chatted as James pulled on a pair of jeans.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“We’re going to run out of clean clothes before the snow even stops falling,” she pointed out.
He paused and frowned at her. “That is a problem.” Still shirtless, hair still wet, he walked towards her. “It would really be awful if we had to spend a lot of time in this room naked together.”
She smiled up at him and leaned back on her elbows as he leaned over her, hands on either side of her waist on the bed to bring his face close to hers. “Don’t worry. Molly seems very accommodating. I’m sure she’ll let us borrow the washer if we really need it.”
He pressed his lips to hers briefly, then pulled back and rolled his eyes at her with a grin. “Yeah, that’s exactly the response I was looking for.”
“I know.” She unfolded his glasses, which she had carried with her when they’d left the bathroom, and slid them onto his face. She smiled up at him and twined her arms around his neck, pulling him down onto her.
He indulged her in a lengthy kiss, or a brief snog, depending how you looked at it, before he pulled back. “I thought you were hungry.”
“I am,” she sighed happily and let her arms drop from his shoulders. “But there was all this talk about kissing before your shower and then you never delivered.”
“My apologies,” he laughed. “I misunderstood your priorities.”
“It’s fine, but don’t let it happen again,” she teased.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, pulling on another shirt before he reached for her hand to pull her up from the bed. “Come on, let me get you fed so I can fulfill all of your expectations of me.”
“You’re talking about the board games downstairs, right?” Lily asked.
“Yeah, sure, that’s exactly what I was talking about,” James agreed, and led her from the room.
Hello!
For the Ask game (Sirius Black) :
1. a habit you love to give a character
18. a scent you associate with this character
22. a piece from canon you love to ignore
I love your writing!!!
Thank you!! I'm so happy you asked me to talk about Sirius!
A habit you love to to give a character
One little habit I always give Sirius is that he's constantly playing with something. It's usually his wand, a quill, a pocketknife, a coin, anything he can twirl casually through his fingers or spin across his knuckles.
On the surface, it reinforces his nonchalant attitude. He looks like he'd rather be anywhere else, as though he isn't paying much attention to what's happening around him.
In reality, it's the opposite.
Sirius is the most observant person in the room. He's always watching people, reading body language, noticing shifts in tone, and picking up on conversations that everyone else misses. The fidgeting isn't a sign that he's distracted; it's what occupies the restless part of his brain so he can focus on everything else.
I also gave him the habit of sitting where he's not supposed to. He'll claim James's desk chair, perch on the edge of someone's desk, lean against a table meant for paperwork, or otherwise occupy spaces that technically belong to someone else.
I think Sirius entertains himself by turning social interactions into little experiments. He pokes at people's boundaries, not necessarily because he wants to upset them, but because their responses are interesting. It's his way of gathering information while amusing himself at the same time.
a scent you associate with this character
Sirius smells of leather, old books, and motor oil.
I've always imagined his scent as something reminiscent of stepping into a Victorian gentlemen's club: worn leather armchairs, polished wood paneling, grand fireplaces, the lingering traces of cigar smoke soaked into the walls, and whiskey poured into heavy crystal tumblers. It's warm, expensive, and unmistakably old money.
But there's always something beneath that polish.
He smells rich and impeccably clean, like someone who was raised among privilege and inherited generations of refinement. Yet there's an undercurrent of the outside world—a little grease, a little smoke, a little wind—that suggests he never quite belonged in those drawing rooms.
He smells like someone who could spend the evening in the parlors of Britain's most influential families, lounging in leather chairs beneath family portraits, but would rather slip out the back door to find a pub, a garage, or take flight with a motorcycle.
a piece from canon you love to ignore
That Sirius died, or that Sirius didn't get to raise Harry like Lily and James wanted.
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Day 10 of 12 Days of Jily Christmas in July - Hogwarts Seventh Year.
James and Lily are caught beneath a shop awning during a snowstorm in Hogsmeade. Neither minds the delay.
~1400
AO3
They were on their way back up to the castle after a nice day out in Hogsmeade when the charming little flurries of snow suddenly turned into a blinding sheet of white falling from the sky.
“Oh,” Lily said just loud enough for James to hear. “Oh no.”
He took her hand and pulled her under a blue awning jutting out from a shop on the outskirts of the village. The sign on the window said they were closed for renovations, but James was pretty sure it was abandoned. That same sign had been there for years.
“We can wait it out here,” he suggested. “Unless you want to make a run for it.”
She shook her head. “Let's just wait. I don't think this will last too long, do you?”
James squinted up at the sky, but all he saw was white falling down from it. He shrugged. “I defer to you.”
Her father was an amateur meteorologist. That did not, of course, make her an expert at predicting weather patterns. It did, however, mean that her guesses tended to be more reliable than his.
When he looked back at her, it was to find her smirking up at him. She reached up and ran a hand through his windblown hair. “You are covered in snow.”
“Yeah, well.” He ran his fingers through her weather-tangled red tresses. “You're not much better.”
They spent the next several seconds trying to brush the snow off of each other. Mostly, it only ended up melting at their touch, leaving both of them damp on top of cold. James swept his wand over Lily's body, drying her with a gentle blast of warm air. She did the same to him.
When they were done, she smiled up at him.
“Hi,” she said.
“Hello,” he told her. “You're beautiful. Did you know?”
“I've been informed several times already today,” she said loftily. “My boyfriend likes me confident.”
“Smart bloke. Must like him a lot,” James prompted, all but begging her to praise him back.
She shrugged, a teasing smile playing at her lips. “He’s okay.”
“Just okay?”
She pretended to think. “Well, he’s tall.”
“I’ve heard girls appreciate height in a partner,” James said.
“Some do,” Lily said, and pretended to think again. She frowned and tapped her chin with a long, slender finger. “I guess he’s reasonably athletic.”
“Reasonably?” James repeated, offended. He had the best statistics out of all the Hogwarts Quidditch players this year. He alone had scored more goals than all of the Hufflepuff Chasers combined.
“He’s got a nice bum,” she continued as if she hadn’t registered his tone.
That drew James up short. “My bum? What do you know about my bum?”
Her eyes twinkled mischievously. “I’ve seen it.”
“When?” he demanded. They had only been dating for two months. He had just managed to get a glimpse of her in her bra three days ago.
“Well, not out,” she clarified. She was trying so hard not to smile; clearly she was enjoying herself. “But it’s got a nice shape to it. Especially when you bend over a desk to scrawl a note or whisper to the boys.”
He stared at her. She smiled innocently up at him. “You’ve been checking out my backside, Evans?”
“Often,” she confirmed, unashamed. “For several years.”
Well, that certainly changed his interpretation of things between them. No longer did he believe he’d had no shot with her before he’d deflated his ego a bit. Well, she had made it very clear to him in the past that she would never date him back when he was arrogant, so it didn’t change things in a romantic sense. But physically? Oh, she had been noticing him. She’d been looking at him. She’d been stealing glances at his bum for years! Probably other parts, too!
He felt his chest puff up.
“Oh, no,” Lily said, eyeing him. “I’ve made a mistake.”
“No!” he said quickly, making an effort to look less pleased with himself. He forced his shoulders down. Judging from her arched brow, he didn’t succeed. “I’m very insecure, actually. Swear. You should continue.”
“I really don’t think I should,” Lily said, laughing.
“You could mention how nicely I’ve matured,” he suggested.
“Yes, this moment really models your new humble nature,” Lily quipped.
“You could remind me how talented I am, and how responsible I’ve become,” he continued.
She snorted. “Barely responsible. Hardly talented.”
“Liar,” he said lightly. “You could tell me you love my hair.”
“Well, I don’t think it’s good to have lies in a relationship,” she said.
“You touch it all the time,” he informed her.
“It’s a disaster. I’m trying to straighten it,” she deflected.
“Well, that’s a lost cause. My mother can tell you all about it,” he said seriously.
She sniffed primly. “Thank you for the honesty. I now know there’s no hope, and shall stop touching it.”
He laughed. “Yeah. Sure you will.”
“I thought you were feeling insecure, Potter,” Lily teased.
“Yeah, well, it comes and it goes.” He shrugged, smiling at her as she slid her hands up his arms and began fiddling with the ends of his hair. She didn’t even realize she was doing it, he knew, until his smile turned into a smirk. She froze, then rolled her eyes at him and continued.
After a moment, she heaved a sigh as if about to make a huge concession. “I suppose I can give you one.”
“One?” he repeated.
“Compliment,” she clarified. “Since you’re fishing.”
He grinned. “You’ve given me more than you realize.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Well, go on then,” James prompted, more eager than he really should be. “If you feel you must.”
The mischievous look was back. “You’ve got a nice mouth.”
“Have I?” he asked, stepping closer.
She let him wrap his arms around her, satisfaction creeping into her smile. “It’s very soft. But demanding at the best of times. You know what to do with it.”
He grinned. Her gaze flicked down to his lips.
“I like when it does that.” Her hands left his hair as she shifted so her arms were wrapped around the back of his neck, drawing him closer.
“Yeah?” he asked.
She hummed. “Among other things.”
“Who’s fishing now?” he murmured.
“Don’t care,” she whispered.
Hungrily, he kissed her.
They only broke apart when, after what could have been several minutes or only a few seconds, they heard the crunch of snow as someone hurried towards them. Squinting into the wall of white, James saw a group of black-cloaked figures approaching.
“Third years,” Lily told him, pulling out of his grasp and straightening her hair.
Sure enough, when they were only a few feet away, James could finally make out a few yellow-and-black striped scarves and a blue-and-silver one.
The younger students stopped short when they realised their desired sanctuary was already occupied, and by a couple of seventh years. Gryffindors. The Head Students.
He wasn’t sure which of the titles was most intimidating to them. It could even just have been their names. Potter and Evans. Even last year when they weren’t Head Students, most people didn’t want to do anything that might upset either one of them.
Taking shelter from a snowstorm was not upsetting, however. James smiled and nodded in greeting.
“Well, come on, then.” He gestured for them to join them. “This is the last shelter before you reach the school grounds.”
He met Lily’s eyes as the third years gratefully huddled near them.
“Very mature of you,” she murmured.
“And responsible,” he added quietly.
She laughed softly and slid her hand back into his to wait.
James struck up a conversation with one of the Hufflepuff girls about Quidditch. Lily chatted with the Ravenclaw boy about his Charms assignment.
When, a few moments later, the sky stopped chucking snow down at them, they walked with the younger students back up to the school, both of their wands drawn and melting the snow ahead of them so they’d have an easier time.
It hadn't even occurred to him, he realized as they settled in front of the fire in the crowded Gryffindor common room, to head back to one of the shops that housed a secret passage up to the school. He had his Invisibility Cloak on him as usual. It wouldn't have been difficult to sneak into any of the storerooms.
He looked at Lily tucked up under his arm looking perfectly content as she told Sirius how they’d been trapped, and smiled. It wasn't like it had been an unbearable delay.
This bit is exactly what Sirius was talking about when he said "Nah, she didn't" in response to Harry lamenting that Lily hated James lol.
Because you can't convince me that our girl wasn't staring at James Potter that afternoon by the lake just as hard as he was staring at her. She brings up him playing with the Snitch as if it's something he does all the time — when literally just minutes earlier, Remus asked James where he'd gotten it. Her eyes were glued to that boy.
"Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick" … girl, just say YOU think he looks cool when he gets off his broomstick.
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I know I should use my social platform (my 3 followers on tumblr) to tell everyone what is happening in Venezuela, but I feel so overwhelmed already that maybe, just maybe, can I have a place that is not filled with "the government is letting people die" as a treat?
Nope. Not really (Promise I won't become too annoying).
I can talk about all the shitty things that the government is doing. And about all the crappy things that I see trying to stay informed but, instead I'm asking if you can to donate, and if you can not donate to spread the world.
Caracas Chronicles has news in English in case you want more information and their first page is about donations to the organisations that are helping.
Making Venezuela make sense, fifteen years and counting.
Even the smallest contribution can help, even if it's just letting other people know about the links to donate in the far chance that they can.
The way my ADHD has gotten worse since I hit my 30s like why is my RSD rearing its ugly head again and so intensely when I thought making good friends in uni helped me get rid of that gnawing feeling?? Why is my executive dysfunction SO bad that only hearing my MIL is coming over makes me finally MOVE?? And most importantly, why is aderrall banned here??
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My husband needs to have an oesophagectomy done (didnt even know that was a thing until today!!) and I feel like absolute shit bc of that and various other things happening all at once. So ofc I went to read some jily fics bc they've been my escape since I was a teen....only I decided to end my reading session with the ones I wrote and wow. Bad idea. Never wanted to delete them more than I do now.
Henry Keoughan is halfway through whatever self-important rant he's on when Lily finally can’t take anymore. The seventh year Ravenclaw has been trying to have it on with her for weeks now and she has been mostly tolerant, not because she’s interested in him, necessarily, but because he’s actually rather intelligent – as Ravenclaws tend to be – when he’s not being an insufferable berk like he is currently.
"Oh, for God's sake, Henry,” she snaps suddenly, rolling her eyes. She’s had enough. Quite literally, she cannot stand another second of listening to this particular diatribe. Not when it had become personal.
"I'm just saying –” he continues in that same self-righteous tone.
"No, you're not,” she says with some heat. “You're talking. There's a difference."
“ – that you only scored that Ministry connection because Slughorn likes showing off talented girls.” He actually has the nerve to speak over her, as if her words are inconsequential to what he is saying, just like her achievements are inconsequential to the Ministry connection she had indeed secured during the last Slug Club meeting. At least according to him.
Lily sees red. “What’s the matter, Keoughan? Insecure because a sixth year Gryffindor is more talented than you?”
His face darkens.
"You know what your problem is, Evans?"
Lily crosses her arms over her middle and puts some effort into looking bored. "That I keep having conversations with you?" she drawls.
A few nearby students snort. Henry's ears go red. "Fuck you."
The words reverberate through the corridor. He’d spoken louder than she thinks he meant to. Ravenclaws debate sensibly; they do not shout.
For a heartbeat, everything goes silent.
Lily tilts her head. Then she smiles. "Nah. I'll get someone else to do that."
The laughter is immediate, and raucous. Henry looks horrified, and humiliated. Not for the first time he’s been outwitted by a Gryffindor girl a year below him. Lily feels a flash of savage satisfaction.
And then a voice behind her says, "Hey, I volunteer."
Cool, and confident. The speaker is not laughing, but very clearly thinks what he’s said is funny. Given the circumstances, it objectively is.
The corridor erupts with laughter, chatter, whispers. It’s not that someone said it. It’s who said it. Because she knows that voice. Of course she knows that voice.
Everyone knows James Potter’s voice.
She turns slowly to find him standing a few feet away with Sirius doubled over beside him and Remus pinching the bridge of his nose as if already exhausted by whatever is about to happen.
James is grinning. He’s not serious, not even remotely. Well, given that it’s James Potter, he may be a little serious. She can never quite tell with him, but she does know that he is incapable of letting a joke pass him by, and she had set him up for quite the zinger.
Lily hadn't even known he was there. Under normal circumstances she'd roll her eyes and tell him to shut up.
Instead she catches sight of Henry's expression: disbelieving and horribly insecure in the sudden, terrible realization that he has absolutely no idea where he stands in this argument.
And Lily is still angry, so righteously angry. So she turns, marches right up to Potter.
And grabs his hand.
The corridor falls silent.
James blinks. The humour is still present in his eyes, but it is quickly fading to uncertainty.
Lily starts walking, all but dragging him for a few steps before his feet catch up and he falls into step beside her.
"Evans?" he says.
"Come on,” she mutters. She does not meet anyone’s gaze as the chatter around them begins to grow louder, more excited by this intriguing development.
"Where are we going?" James asks.
"Anywhere that isn't here,” she tells him loud enough for those nearest them to hear.
His hand tightens around hers automatically as she pulls him along. Behind them, Sirius makes a choking noise. Someone actually applauds. There are cheers as if people have been waiting for this moment for years, which is confusing. Someone wolf-whistles as they pass.
Henry looks like he's just been punched in the stomach.
Perfect.
Lily keeps walking. James keeps following.
One corridor.
Two.
Three.
She doesn't stop until they've turned enough corners that nobody can see them anymore.
Then she comes to a halt and turns to him. He looks bewildered, but not unhappily so. There is a tiny self-satisfied smile playing at the sharp corners of his mouth.
Lily opens her mouth to speak, then freezes. She looks down, realizes that she is still holding James’s hand. He doesn’t seem to need to look down to confirm that fact; he’s been painfully aware the entire time.
The slight smile begins to shift into a slow, dangerous grin.
"Lily,” he sings.
“No.” She shakes her head and tries to pull her hand away. He tightens his hold.
"You dragged me away,” he observes, still in that agitating melodic tone.
"I recall,” she says in a clipped tone that would have been more effective if their fingers weren’t still intertwined.
"By the hand,” he adds. As if she isn’t aware of the single point of contact between them.
"Yes,” she sighs, trying again to pull away from him. She isn’t surprised when he still doesn’t let go.
"In front of witnesses,” he reminds her.
“I was there, Potter,” she says through gritted teeth.
“In front of the guy who’s been trying to get you to sleep with him for weeks.”
She points a finger at him, which only serves to make him grin even wider.
"Do not make this weird,” she threatens.
His grin softens a bit, but doesn’t fade completely. "I'm not making it weird.”
"You absolutely are,” she insists, but this time when she tugs her hand, he lets it slide away and she has to admit to herself that the situation isn’t weird. Well, yes, it is. But it’s not uncomfortable.
“No,” he says, tone light and easy and conversational. Like the entire exchange wasn’t built on the suggestion of the two of them running off to shag. "I'm merely observing that if anyone asks, I think this counts as a public declaration."
“You’re insane,” she says. She doesn’t mean it, and he knows it. She knows that he knows.
Which is infuriating in itself. Because as annoying as James Potter is, she realizes that she knows him, and he knows her. Which is complicated considering that she has, at times, very publicly declared her disdain for him. Not recently, of course. They’re friends now, which is why she had felt fine dragging him away as she had.
But still…
Her heart does a funny little flutter when he laughs. Not smugly, but delighted, as if the entire situation is the funniest thing that has happened to him all week. It probably is.
Lily hates that she starts laughing too. Because it is funny in an absurd way.
"It worked," she says after a moment when they have both stopped laughing and are just standing there in the corridor smiling at each other, basking in the euphoria of the stunt they’ve just pulled.
"What worked?"
"Henry."
James's grin softens into something more fond as understanding flashes across his face. “Oh.”
He is quiet for a moment. Then, he smirks at her. "He thinks we were serious."
"Yes,” she says. She had seen it in his face as she had dragged Potter away. She doesn’t want to think about why Henry and everyone else had thought there was a possibility they hadn’t been joking.
"And you wanted him to think that." It isn’t a question. Not really. But in a way it is. A clarifier, perhaps.
"I…” she pauses. “I wanted him to spend the rest of the day wondering."
James nods solemnly. "A noble goal."
She smiles despite herself. "Thank you."
"I am, of course, happy to assist your cause."
Lily rolls her eyes. "So selfless."
He sighs as if carrying a heavy burden. "The things I do for my fellow students."
She laughs, and turns to walk away. He follows, of course he does, and falls quickly into step with her. She doesn’t object.
“We weren’t dating,” Lily says suddenly. She doesn’t know why she says it. It doesn’t matter. But something compelled her to tell him.
“I know,” James tells her. There is a strange tone in his voice as he continues, like he is choosing his words carefully. “He was never worth your time.”
She glances at him sidelong. “No, he wasn’t.”
They walk aimlessly for a while, not in any real direction. Just comfortable in each other’s company. Then, he breaks the silence.
"For the record."
“Here it comes,” Lily groans. “You’re about to ruin the moment.”
“Was there a moment?” he says a little too casually. “Whatever, no, I’m not ruining anything.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No,” he insists. Then, “But...”
She sighs, waiting.
"I did volunteer my services.”
"You were joking,” she says. It was obviously a joke, but some part of her is worried there could have been some level of truth to it.
"I was,” he agrees.
"Good.”
"Mostly."
Lily stops walking and turns to him.
James immediately raises both hands. "I'm kidding."
"James Potter,” she said warningly.
He laughs, not intimidated in the slightest. "I'm kidding!"
She narrows her eyes. He smiles innocently.
Lily knows better. The annoying thing is that he knows she knows better, which is somehow exactly what makes her laugh again.
Behind them, somewhere back in the castle, Henry Keoughan is probably still trying to figure out whether he just witnessed the beginning of something. Lily hopes he never gets an answer.
James, meanwhile, looks entirely too pleased with himself for someone who had merely volunteered his services for the sake of an easy joke.
She has to take him down a notch because of course she does. That’s what Lily Evans does. "Don't get used to it."
"To what?" James asks.
"Holding my hand,” she tells him.
His grin widens again. “Too late.”
He reaches down and slides his hand back into hers. Lily doesn’t pull away.
