plenty of nerve

“I feel like you might be criticising me a bit, there.”

“Why stop at a closet? How about two closets, three, four? A whole room?”

“You’re a hoarder. You’re like a dragon, except instead of gold, it’s a bunch of bloody socks.”

“Not enough if your bones are already creaking, mate.” Sirius gave James a very serious look, lifting both his eyebrows up and folding his arms across his chest.

“Or maybe that’s contributing to my bone cracking. Have you considered that one, you prick?”

Peter almost felt worse that James hadn’t won, because now he had the added pain of guilt to think he’d ever hoped he wouldn’t win in the first place. He sighed, feeling his light pockets. It had not been a fruitful evening, and Peter knew when the odds weren’t in his favor, but still that itch of potential sang to him. “I can’t look,” he said as he played down his last Galleon. 

Before long, lights started flashing, and at first, James thought they had done something wrong. He was never the gambling type, and the lights didn’t seem to fit a win. “Hey, Pete--I think you won, mate. Open your bloody eyes.”

The this time in James’ response spoke volumes to Dorcas. “The first time didn’t go well then? Sometimes, the most you can do is put your best foot forward and hope that they meet you in the middle. You could go with the more conservative attire approach and come dressed in khakis and a polo shirt, but that’s so boring and suburban. There’s a fine line between impressing them and becoming them.” 

“Lily’s sister and her brute of a bloke are going to be there. I need to look less--wizardy, y’know?” Petunia and Vernon were always a point of contention. They hated James the moment he stepped into their presence, and he was already sure that they would never accept him. It didn’t hurt to try at least. There were very few people in the world who James couldn’t schmooze.

“But why would I intentionally throw away ten Galleons? Everyone knows the Cannons would lose, but this,” he nodded to the flashing machine, “sometimes turns in your favor if you play it right.”

“Go on, put a coin in,” he urged. “See how your luck fares.” A tight, sinking, disturbing feeling he couldn’t quite put a name on gave a twinge at the possibility of James hitting on his first try. He always had been luckier than Peter.

James had never put much stock in luck, which was what most lucky people claimed. His entire life had been charmed, and had the war not been going on, he might’ve even called it perfect. Gambling hadn’t even been on his mind, but he knew Peter. There was something about his friend that was always searching for something new, something more. Maybe something that he could even call his own. James relented easily, never being one to pass up the chance to try something new, and never one to tell Peter no. He put the coin in the slot, pulled the lever, and waited.

He had been sure, but now Peter was having second thoughts. The flashing lights and promise of a possibility called him back to his senselessness though. “No,” he admitted. “Only fools are sure about gambles.”

“Why are we here again? We’d have better luck on a Quidditch match.”

“I’ll just go one more round,” Peter waved the words off and placed his hand on the slot machine’s lever. “Might as well bring it down to an even number, right? ‘Sides, I’m due for a hit.”

“Sure you want to do that?”

“Don’t pretend like you’re not a rich bitch, Potter.You’re lucky that I’m feeling generous enough to offer up my talents and my time without any strings attached. I could better cater my advice if I knew what the occasion was?”

“Me?” James feigned innocence, although it was hard to disprove. His entire time spent in Hogwarts was build around his reputation for causing havoc, and having entirely too much extra money to bet with. “Lily’s parents. I’ve met them before, but it’s especially important that they like me this time.”

“Purple certainly makes a statement. I, personally, advise the purple over the orange. You would look absolutely smashing in a mauve, for instance. Still flashy, but also soft. Let’s be honest, Lily will be swept away regardless, but it’s not very James Potter-esque to not stand out in the crowd and make himself known.” 

“Have you become an official beauty consultant? Do I need to start paying for this?” James mocked shuffling around in his pockets for money. “I’m afraid I’m all out. How about a free session?”

Lily kept hold of James’ hand as she let herself settle, taking a moment to let the world and her stomach stop spinning, a necessary step after apparating. Once she no longer felt like she might topple over, she picked up the conversation where they’d left it. “A hundred is a good start, but you’re going to have to do something. I know marriage makes you promise for better or worse and all that, but I can’t spend our whole marriage living in a sock crisis.”

“It’s not even a sock crisis. It’s a person with a normal amount of socks getting thieved from constantly. I would have more socks if you didn’t lose them so bloody often.”

“Try having more sex.”

“I’m having plenty of sex, thank you very much. Eat some more of this if you’re going to start spewing shite.”

“Blue, James, really?” Dorcas clucked her tongue, tease sprinkling into her words as she looked him up and down, smile tugging her mouth. “We all know green is more your color, am I right? It accentuates your best features.”

“We all know my best feature is Lily. I mean, my hair is pretty impressive, but the rest of me could use some work.” James turned, looking around the store. “Might be out of luck with any green. I could try purple. Or is purple too show-offy? Although, I think that’s what everyone expects. Maybe orange.”

“See, I hear what you’re saying, but I vehemently disagree with you, so either we can continue this discussion, which is not in your best interest, or we can. Just. Not? I’m feeling generous, so I would seize this opportunity if I were you.”

“So you don’t think this blue looks good on me?” James looked in the mirror and was rather disappointed. He always figured that blue looked nice on him. Not that it really mattered, the only thing Lily cared about these days was what was on his feet.

“Maybe the problem is that you don’t have enough pairs of socks, did you ever think of that, huh?”

She took his arm, smiling. “Together.”

“Okay, how many pairs is enough, then? Twenty? Thirty? One hundred?”

“Are you calling me old, mate?”

“I’m calling us ancient. Practically headed to our graves already. I can’t even imagine being in another seven hour Quidditch match. My bones just audibly screamed at me.”

“That’s sort of how I feel about your cold feet.”

Lily couldn’t help the way the corners of her mouth lifted at his words. They sent a wave of happiness through her. “We really did, didn’t we?”

“You know, this might not be such an issue if I wasn’t always missing my socks. Don’t you think so?

“And you might have never learnt to stop showing off every five minutes. I think we were better back then,” he grinned.

“Me? Show off?” James ruffled his hair and smiled. “We were definitely something then, I dunno if I’d call it better. I’d probably just call it more energized.”