For @jercmevaleska who made the v good point that Jack Whitehall’s story about having to hide a girl under his covers would make a great Jily au so!!!! Here we go!!!!!
Lily swears blind that when she apparated out of her house last night and snuck into James’s Fuck Off Massive mansion through his bedroom window, she’d only wanted to talk to him. Except she’d shaved her legs before she left so maybe that’s not entirely true, but whatever, she doesn’t overthink it. This, now, is nice. She woke up with her legs entangled with James’s, swamped in one of his t-shirts, with her face tucked into his chest, and it all felt disconcertingly good considering that they’re just meant to be mates. Mates who snog sometimes. James sleeps like its a competitive sport, because of course he does, fidgeting and twisting, limbs stretched like he’s trying to cover as much surface area as possible, half in and half out of the covers to maintain the perfect body temperature, probably, the arsehole. Lily got at least three elbows to the face during the night, and possibly one knee, though she isn’t sure how he managed that. He seems to have settled down a little now, though. Its 7am, which is weird, because Lily is awake and as a rule she doesn’t wake up before 11 unless is absolutely necessary, but she’s kind of glad she did.
She props herself up on one elbow and brushes some hair off of James’s face, just because she can. There’s pale sunlight filtering through the windows and its lighting up dust motes and softening the angles of James’s face. Its odd, seeing him without his glasses on, makes him look younger, somehow.
If she hadn’t already been a complete and utter goner before, she certainly was now. Before she can worry about this too much, James seems to sense her presence or something, because his eyes flutter a little and Lily quickly lies back down so she doesn’t look like a creep. He slowly sits up, and glances down at her, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand. To his credit, the grin he gives her is a little smug, but it hasn’t quite reached shit-eating levels.
James lies back down, and for a second they just watch each other across the stretch of pillow. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but is abruptly cut off by a yell of ‘James, have you seen this?’ There’s a rattle at the door, and before Lily can register whats going on, James’s eyes are widening and a hand is on her head, pushing her down beneath the covers.
‘James-’ she hisses, but he just shushes her urgently and yanks the covers up further.
‘The bloody Ministry, Archibald Cattermole of all people, Head Auror! At a time like this! They’re off their rockers, the lot of them-’ Lily had met Fleamont a few times, liked him a lot, but Jesus Christ did the man really have to barge into his son’s room at the crack of dawn to discuss politics? She hears the shuffle of a newspaper, and then ‘Archibald Cattermole, James! Are you listening?’
‘Yeah, dad, what a joke. The bloke’s probably never gone on the offensive in a game of chess.’
‘Exactly my point, James, what chance is he going to have against the Death Eaters-’
‘We need someone with some guts-’
Lily sighs, and rolls her eyes, settling down a bit. If she’s going to be here whilst James and his Dad try to discuss the entire Wizarding World out of the biggest crisis it’s seen in a thousand years, she may as well get comfy. That doesn’t mean she has to be happy about it, though, so she gives James a good pinch behind the knee for good measure, grinning when he attempts to kick her but just ends up knocking a pillow off the bed.
‘Everything all right, James?’ asks his father. James chokes.
‘Oh- of course- all fine and dandy here-’
‘James, sweetie,’ Lily recognises the voice of James’s mother, ‘Do you want some tea?’
Lily assumes James doesn’t get much say in the matter of whether or not he’s having tea, because she hears footsteps cross the room, and then James is reaching up to accept the mug.
‘Tah, mum, I was- ah, just about to get dressed, actually. Would you mind-’ But he’s cut off by his father who has begun reading a statement from the Minister.
‘’I believe I speak on behalf of the entire Ministry in saying that-’ Oh, Sirius! Come here, you’ll be interested in this- ‘in saying that we have chosen the most competent-’ -ha!- ‘and adept man for the job-’’
Lily groans inwardly, wondering if it’s a normal occurrence for the entire Potter household to converge in James’s bedroom at 7 in the morning for an incredibly sarcastic reading of the Prophet. She hears more footsteps as who she presumes to be Sirius enters the room.
‘Morning, Potters. All right there, James? You’re looking a bit constipated this morning, mate. Oh, thanks Mrs Potter-’ Lily thinks that she’d quite like a cup of tea right now, and maybe she’d have gotten some if James hadn’t forced her into hiding. Part of her wants to pop up from beneath the covers, hoping they’d all do the proper English thing: pretend like nothing was out of the ordinary and offer her a cup of tea. She can’t sell James out for a cuppa, though, and the implications of emerging from beneath the covers half way down the bed probably aren’t the best, so she settles for running a hand up James’s thigh just to watch him squirm.
‘’-And we’ll continue to do everything in our power to protect our way of life from the people who seek to destroy it.’ Well, I have never read such a load of codswallop in my life.’
There’s a general hum of agreement.
‘Voldemort’ll have the Ministry under his thumb by the end of the month, you just watch.’ adds Euphemia.
‘That’s why I bet Dumbledore must be planning something,’ says Sirius, ‘He must know the Ministry’s useless- and he’s not the type to sit back and let them fuck everything up for the rest of us-’
‘Language, Sirius.’ chides Euphemia, but she doesn’t sound particularly bothered. ‘Though you’re right, of course.’
‘More flawed than people think, I reckon, old Dumbledore,’ says Fleamont, ‘But he’s the best chance we’ve got. That’s for sure. What do you reckon, James, you’re being uncharacteristically quiet on the subject?’
‘What? Oh, Dumbledore? Brilliant man, he is. Completely bonkers, of course, but if anyone’s got a chance against Voldemort, its him. Bloody shame he wont take on the role of Minister, if you ask me. The Ministry could really do with somebody with his brains running things. Anyway, I really do want to get ready, now-’
It carries on like this for what feels like an hour, but in reality is closer to about fifteen minutes. James keeps trying to make half-hearted excuses to kick the lot of them out, but he’s thwarted at every turn by his father remembering something else to be outraged about. When they’ve finally left, James yanks back the covers and peers down at Lily sheepishly. She’s lying on her stomach, staring daggers at him.
‘Is your family insane?’ she asks, sitting up and shifting over to sit besides him stroppily. ‘Its 7:15 in the morning! What do you discuss at dinner? How to end world hunger? Throw about some ideas for curing bloody cancer?’
‘Look, I’m sorry, my parents are just a bit passionate, and I didn’t want the first time you met them to be like that!’
‘James, I’ve met your parents like, five times.’
‘I know but- the first time you met them as- you know-’
Lily makes a confused face.
‘Like- well- my girlfriend.’
Lily scoffs. ‘We have sex like, once- maybe four times, and suddenly I’m your girlfriend?’
‘Well- I mean, not if you don’t want to be, but come on, Lils. You basically are. We snog quite a lot, and neither of us have snogged anyone else in like, months. We go on dates. The other week we bought Peter a joint birthday present for Merlin’s sake.’
Lily stares at him. She feels her mouth hanging open and promptly closes it. Then she takes a few steps forward and kisses him on the mouth.
‘Does- does that mean we’re a thing?’ James asks after a few seconds of this. Lily shrugs.
‘I don’t know. Still considering it. Will it mean next time I stay over I wont have to face near suffocation and your mother will offer me a cup of tea?’
‘Well, that improves your chances.’
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