#chierafied

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃

“Uh, get me one?”

“Yes! Oh, don't make that face,” James said with a false expression of indignation. “It's New Year's! Kissing will make it much less boring than it is now.”

“I don't think so,” Lily said, biting her lip unsurely. It wasn't a bad idea, per se, just… it sounded not quite up her alley.

Her nose twitched as James leaned closer, his strong woody perfume permeating the air.

“Not even one try, Lily?” James looked at her with such a winning gaze, said her name with such a charm,—he rarely called her by her first name—that Lily was momentarily lost for words.

She searched his face. He was so close. The gold flecks in his hazel eyes were brighter than ever. “You are strangely insistent on getting me a New Year's Kiss,” she pointed out, finally, instead of answering.

His eyes shifted. “Well. It's been a stressful year for all of us, but especially you. Not to mention how uncertain the future is. I thought it would be a fun way to start the next year. You know, new year, new experience.” He took a sip from his goblet, smiled. “Besides, this is our last year, Head Girl.”

“Which means it's my last chance to get a New Year's kiss in Hogwarts?” she said, her lips stretching into a small smile to mirror his.

“You got it.”

Lily looked down at her goblet, golden, containing a pink punch, as she considered the idea once more.

It was quite thoughtful of James to think of a fun distraction—because that's what this was, wasn't it? or was it something more?—for her; to have noticed how stressful these past days were. But then, he’d proven to be quite observant and a good friend this past year, so it wasn’t all that odd.

Lily just felt touched.

A New Year's kiss, she said in her mind. She pursed her lips, lifted her eyes to look at the partying crowd. Would she kiss one of them? Which one?

... was she considering the idea, after all?

Admittedly, New Year's kissing was something she hadn't tried before, and it sounded both harmless and exciting—the type of fun she liked. She looked back up at James, and found she couldn’t resist his insisting.

“Alright,” said Lily. James beamed, his cute dimples deepening. He looked dazzling and dizzyingly handsome in his burgundy robes, she thought, and felt her smile widen.

“Well then!” he said excitedly and set down his goblet on a passing server's tray and offered her a hand. “We have around three minutes left for New Year's and there are about a hundred witches and wizards here, so we'll have to decide very quickly whom you will kiss and make sure they agree.”

She nodded and accepted his hand, feeling a silly feeling snuggling her sternum. His skin was warm and the hand largely enveloped her much smaller one, squeezing it as he cut through the crowd. He started to discreetly point people out. There were a lot of people invited to Slughorn's party, including older people as well as magical beings, and James seemed to know most of them—if he didn't, Lily did.

But James seemed to be the most up to date on the gossip: which witch was dating which wizard, which wizard didn't date, which wizard or witch wasn't the best kisser, and so on. She laughed at most of his descriptions, which, while being apt, were not the most forgiving ones.

As they were short on time, it was best to play the game of elimination, where they quickly crossed out the older wizards and witches they saw. And strangers of their age as well, as Lily opted to search for a familiar face instead: a friend that wasn't already snogging someone or in a relationship.

Most of her friends seemed to be rather engaged in making out and James' friends were nowhere to be found, coincidentally.

Yet, those who were single were people she'd rather not kiss, or she found them not her type. Well, except one charming French wizard from Beauxbatons, but before she could approach him, he locked lips with the girl beside him.

“I didn't know you were such a picky person,” James commented, but not unkindly. They'd crossed out almost everyone in the dungeon, so he was right.

“What can I say? The Head Girl wants only the best for herself,” she said lightly. But her chest felt tight. There were only around fifty seconds left.

“Would I qualify?” said James, suddenly, his tone light-hearted but his gaze solemn, conveying that the offer was serious.

Lily stared at James. His silky mop of hair swept the rim of his golden glasses as he stared back, a hint of nervousness showing in the way he readjusted his glasses and played with his hair.

She wondered absently, amidst the rapid whirling of her mind, what it would be like to run her hands through his dark hair, to mess them up further.

“Of course you would,” she blurted, then.

James' lips parted. “Are you sure?” he said, like he couldn't believe it.

The crowd started to chant. Thirty seconds. Half a minute.

Lily swayed closer, setting her hands gently on his broad chest. “Yes.”

He swallowed, (she stared at his throat) but quickly wound his arms around her waist.

Fifteen.

Her eyes roved over James once more. The golden lining on his collar. His sharp jaw, the smooth skin. The way the tips of his ears were flushed pink.

Eight.

They leaned closer, James moving down and Lily arching up, and as she got a whiff of his scent once more, her heart started to pound in her ears, almost louder than the crowd's chanting.

Five! Four! Three!

They kissed at two seconds before midnight, soft lips pressing together, slow and warm. Her hands held his face, her fingers stroking the sharp lines of his jaw and beyond his ear, the short tufts of hair. He caressed her hair, the warm skin of her neck. The kiss was short but bright, and her lips tingled as it ended and they seperated. Her eyes half-closed. James gazed at her, eyes crinkled, his cheeks flushed.

“Happy New Year,” he whispered, hoarse, with a smile as bright as a firecracker.

“You too,” she said, pressing closer and winding her arms around his back, hugging him with warmth in her heart.

What a lovely way to start 1978.

“Obviously not. I’ve actually got some taste buds.”

“And I don’t?”

She sat up, sticking her hands out to steady herself, and it was apparent that the readily-supplied stock of alcohol at the festival had gotten to her. "You have horrible taste in festival snacks, the clear winner is a pot of pringles, and all you've got are some crappy cereal bars in here.”

Right. Of course. Out of all the people that could have raided his and Sirius’s tent, it had to be someone critical of the poor, innocent snacks sitting in a messy heap on the floor. Even if he agreed that the snacks weren’t the best.

“Would you believe me if I said that I wasn’t in charge of the snacks?”

She hummed, pondering his wonders for a moment. “That would be a relief. Otherwise I would have questioned what evil entity in their right mind would give someone so fit a horrible taste in junk food.”

At his age, he shouldn’t have been so affected by someone complimenting his appearances, unable to help the light smirk forming on his face. “Think that horrible entity does exist.” He nodded towards the pile of her empty wrappers. “You practically ate all the snacks we packed.”

“The food here is horribly overpriced, and if not that, it’s swarming with flies.” She grimaced, plucking another Pringle from the box and shoving it into her mouth. “I’m terribly hungry, so do you really blame me?”

“Fair enough,” James said, and he decided that there was no harm in letting himself into the tent. It was his tent after all. “Move over.”

She complied, her hand still gripping the box of Pringles. With eyes greener than the fields and constellations of mascara dotting her cheeks, she suspiciously peered up at him. “What’s your name? Oh!” She clapped her hands together. “Don’t tell me. You look like… a Harry.”

“A Harry?” James asked, amused by the drunken rambles of an equally drunk girl. He leaned back, letting his body rock the chair with his weight. “My grandpa was named Henry, but no. It’s James. Potter.”

“James,” she echoed, and he liked the way the words fell from her lips. “I guessed a Prince name, so I suppose I wasn’t too far off.”

“You think I’m a prince?”

“Well, are you? Otherwise, I think I’ll have to leave a message for the Queen and tell her that I’ve found her long-lost son.”

“Tell her I’ve run away for good. Avoiding responsibilities and all that.”

“Obviously you aren’t here to court noble women.”

“Maybe I am,” James said, flashing her a slight cocky grin, and he bowed, outrageously curtsying her. “My lady.”

She laughed. “You’re bold, courting me when you don’t know my name.”

“‘Course I do. The name gods have told me that it’s…” He looked at her for help.

“Lily,” she finished.

“Lily,” he repeated, liking the sound of it rolling off his lips. “You a flower, then?”

She sighed, leaning back. “Maybe. I’ve got a sister named Petunia if that helps my case.”

James shrugged. “Depends on if you want to be a flower or not.”

“What I want right now,” she started, flopping her head back onto one of the pillows littering the tent floor and holding up the now-empty can of Pringles. “Are better snacks.”

“I reckon if you raid one of the other gazillion tents, you’ll be able to get that.”

“That, unfortunately, means I’d have to get up.” She buried her head further into the pillow as if to prove her point. “Is this yours?”

“I mean, it is my tent.”

“That’s the wrong answer. It’s mine now.”

James smiled, no doubt amused even more than he would have been had he chosen to stay out to listen to Sirius’s horrible interpretations of the EDM beats that were currently blaring throughout the air. “Take good care of it, yeah? It’s my most prized possession.”

“Is it really?”

“Nah,” he replied, shaking his head. “There was a pack of pillows on sale at the store the other day.”

She laughed. “You’re supposed to be wooing me here.”

“Thought I was. You’re not into thrifty blokes? Thought you’d be the type, seeing as we’re at a music festival and all.”

“And yet we’re not participating. Why is that so?”

“Because I found you raiding my tent and eating all the snacks?” James replied, and she let out a huff, weakly and terribly chucking a pillow that sent his athletic side into tears. “Couldn’t help but get sideswept.”

She sat up. “What do you say we get out there, then?”

He grinned. “Lead the way.”

***

In theory, it shouldn’t have been so hard to lead someone around, to take them by their hand and show them the way.

In reality, it was the exact opposite— so bloody hard. Because even if said someone was the prettiest girl that James had ever seen in his life,  it was really hard to maneuver the two of them around throngs of people who were all out of it. Thank the bloody drugs.

As they got closer and closer to the main stage, James careful to step over what he hoped could have only been throw up and not something else, the music grew louder and louder. And, apparently, Lily’s excitement grew as well. 

“I love this song!” she exclaimed over the music, moving her body to the beat.

“Yeah? You a fan?”

She shook her head. “I’ve never heard of them in my life, but you can’t deny how good they are!”

Lily swayed to the beat, grabbing his hands to make him move along to the rhythm. If he was being honest, he didn’t think he’d find himself in the company of another person who wasn’t Sirius— not tonight, at least. Perhaps it was the alcohol from earlier that day, or maybe it was the adrenaline that came with the thrill of being one among an entire crowd of people jumping and dancing and throwing their hearts— and stomach’s contents, to the slight disgust of James— out, but James didn’t think he felt so alive.

WIth everyone singing along to the song, James couldn’t help but to join in, screaming along with them and watching Lily jump around. And it wasn’t planned. It just sort of… happened.

Even surrounded by people, it still somehow felt like just the two of them, and he kissed her. Spontaneously. Hands looping around her waist and pulling her to his chest, James pressed his lips around hers, slowly and tentatively, before it escalated into something a little more.

Her lips tasted salty— perhaps from the Pringles that she’d eaten— but he didn’t mind a bit, determined to deepen the kiss. The action seemed to elevate every one of his senses, pounding at his ears even harder as the music seemed to grow louder.

And when they— he didn’t even know who had done it first— pulled away, he didn’t think he was letting her go anytime soon.

***

The bright, sudden sun jolted James awake.

“Rise and fucking shine,” Sirius announced, walking in through the flap of the tent and making a beeline towards the cooler. 

James groaned. “Fuck off.”

“I was about to, actually. It reeks of a potential relationship in here,” Sirius said with a grimace, and satisfied with the water bottle in his hand, he turned back around. “We’re leaving in ten.”

And then it was James and Lily alone once again.

Lily shifted besides James, having spent the night in the tent with him, and to keep Sirius away, she promised that she’d pay him back for all his snacks that she’d eaten. She rolled over, snuggling herself into the crook of his neck. “Good morning. Did you get a good night’s sleep?”

“As good that sleep could be with the bloody mosquitoes flying around. Swear I had to swat off at least a dozen for my lady.”

“And who is your lady?”

WIth her tucked against his person, it was obvious who that title belonged to. “Am I being too presumptuous?”

“No,” she hummed. “But I’ve got a massive headache right now, and I don’t think the flutters in my stomach are helping any matters.”

“Ah. That’s my bad. Is there anything that I can do to help?”

“Well…” she started, looking over at him with a light glint in her eyes. “There is something.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“And would that involve maybe seeing you again?”

“Only if you get better snacks next time,” she said, and James let out a chuckle, letting his hand fly down to hers and giving it a slight squeeze.