Written for the Bittersweet prompt for @jilytoberfest

Happy Jilytober! This is my first time posting Jily, I'm so excited!

Prompt: "Why aren't you mad at me?" (Angst made fluff)

James is sitting in the Gryffindor common room with a bottle of Butterbeer in his hand when Lily Evans plops down next to him. They’re celebrating a Quidditch victory and James expects her to congratulate him, maybe joke about him letting the outcome of the match get to his head. He does not expect her to sit so close, lean against him a little, and direct a brilliant smile at him.

He can’t help staring for a moment. Her eyes are sparkling, her face is glowing, and her cheeks are flushed. She feels warm and comfortable and she’s so beautiful. She’s also very drunk.

“You’re very drunk”, James tells her.

Thank you for the prompt, love!

Voldermort also does NOT exist in this AU, I’m not having any of it.

It’s nearly dawn when the roar of the party has dwindled to a mere fizzle, music still broadcasted from the wireless network and drunk Gryffindors hanging from varying places of the common room, moaning in self-pity.

It’s the summer of ‘78.

They’re all nostalgic and not ready to leave the comfort of Hogwarts.

They’re also going to regret downing the stack of butterbeers when they wake at noon to McGonagall’s furious shouts. Except him, tough that may have something to do with him being far from hammered.

It’s his last month in the place that has been his home for the past seven years, and he wants to see every second of the party instead of waking up with a pounding headache and sore throat with absolutely no memory of how he ended up on the roof of the castle. Of course, his fellow co-head had entirely different plans. Lily had to have taken in at least four mugs of butterbeer by now, considering the fact he had to stop her from joining Sirius on the table to dance to his singing--despite how much he wants to join them both.

A voice rings out through the fading party air, the same one which makes his heart stutter even though it's been years since he first heard it, and--not long after--the redhead appears before him, “James!”

He’s still not used to hearing his name roll off her tongue with ease, and such sweetness, too.

He smiles, “Hullo, Lils.”

“I’m tired.”

“Let’s get you to bed then.”

She perks up at the thought, but he’s not expecting what follows.

“Ooh, your bed? Yes, please! I’ve always wanted to sleep there, especially when your smell will be on the sheets”

Merlin, the things this woman did to him.

James chokes out a laugh, mouth opening and closing like fish gaping out of the water.

“Christ, Lily, no. You’re going to your own bed.”

She pouted, and he wondered if she ever took special classes on how to melt someone’s heart. It couldn’t all be pure talent.

“Please, James?”

“How many drinks have you had?”

“I—hmm. Thr...ee…..or maybe—four? I was supposed to be competing with Marlene, y’know. But, that little nitwit is off snogging Dorcas! Pure betrayal, I tell you.”

“Well, to be fair—”

“I want to snog someone.”

“I—what?”

Lily drops onto the couch next to him, absentmindedly fingering with the rings on her fingers, eyes unfocused on Sirius twirling Peter around the table that had been, just hours prior, a source for drinks.

“Preferably this bloke I fancy. I want to snog him so bad, but he just won’t bloody let me. A nitwit, that’s what he is. Arse.”

His heart stops, and then starts again—over and over, the vicious cycle nearly numbing his brain.

—this bloke I fancy.

Fuck.

“I’m sure—“

“And,” she starts again, frown tugging at the tips of her lips, “he’s a massive prat too, asking me out for years and then, and then he just stops without warning...because he’s moved on from me—and how can he tire, tire of me— because I’m…well, me!”

Was she pulling at his leg?

“Lily—“

“But he’s so cute and his hair—“ she wails, surprising James as she drops her head onto his lap, “—but he won’t ask me out to Hogsmeade! He’s literally asked me several times! What’s one more?”

“Who exactly are you talking about?”

“A bloke I fancy! Haven’t you been listening?”

She looks up, eyes wide to meet his with full force but the focus glazes as she frowns thoughtfully.

“No I know what you meant but who—“

“He’s really pretty.”

He chuckles, easing back into the comfort of the chair—no longer alarmed, because honestly it’s so bloody clear and he can’t believe it’s taken a drunk night for her to say it. He’s not sure, but he’s testing the theory.

“I know, you’ve said that several times now.”

Lily turns over and props herself on her elbows, resting her chin on the open palms, “Should I kiss him?”

He chokes and gapes at her, “You...I don’t—what?”

“Should I?”

“I don’t bloody know, Lily, you tell me!”

She pouts at him, sitting up straight and putting several feet of air between them—which really shouldn’t be there, but his sanity thanks the gods that it is.

“Not the answer I was looking for, but I’ll do it anyways.”

His hands reach out to grasp her shoulder from moving forward, his heartbeat loud enough to wake the entire common room. The words run in his head on repeat, thundering against his skull in rhythm with his pulse.

“Lily, now is not the time or place. You’ll regret this in the morning.”

Curse his mother for her values and curse him for proudly taking them in. He doesn’t want to be a bleeding gentleman.

She shakes her head furiously, trying to move forward despite his hand blocking her, “I don’t. I really won’t.”

They stare at each other, pools of hazel searching green irises. James opens his mouth without a sound coming out, and closes it again.

He wants to. So very badly. But it’s still not right.

But his resolve gives in when Lily bites her lip and pushes his arm away, lips meeting one another and breath mixing. The party dulls into the background and all he can think is—bloody fucking bleeding hell—over and over again, hands reaching out to pull her into his lap and fastening them around her waist, an embarrassing moan let out from his lips as her nails scarp the scalp and his hair tangles between her fingers—fuck, why hasn’t he done this before?

She’s doing mind boggling things to his neck with those fingers. She’s running him dry when her teeth tugs at his lips. She tastes wonderful. She’s amazing and—shit he fancies her so, so much.

They part, grasping for much needed air, and he realises that she fancies him too.

When the fuck did that even happen?

James decides that’s a question for another time as he smirks up at her, touching their noses, “Go out with me, Evans?”

An embarrassing pant breaks the sentence, but he doesn’t care.

Lily huffs, hitting his arm, but the upward turn of her lips ruin the effect, “Now, the git wants to ask me out.”

“I thought you would reject me again!”

“Am I right now?”

“You haven’t even said yes yet! I didn’t want to ruin...whatever this is,” he gestures between them, “we’ve built this past year.”

Lily smiles, pecking his cheek, “Neither do I. But still—“

James sighed, “Lily, will you go out with me on Hogsmeade?”

“I’m tempted to say no.”

“You won’t, though.”

She smiles, resting her forehead on his, “No, I won’t.”

He grins, leaning in for another snog, because he wants the sparks back and ingrained in his lips forever, but something stops him.

A smirk overtakes his lips, “You little minx. You’re not drunk, are you?”

Lily shrugs, laughing, “I needed a kiss somehow, James.”

“You could’ve asked.”

“Less talking, mor—“

He swallows the rest of the sentence.

Another favorite chapter of mine I think i was starting to pick up James’ quick wit in this one :)

fanfiction.net

The gaudy pink draperies fluttered next to Lily as she stared out the window of the banquet hall, sipping her champagne. She glanced back over her shoulder into the ballroom with a frowned, spotting Petunia and Vernon schmoozing with the tall, curmudgeonly man with the bushy mustache who was her new brother-in-laws boss. Her sister’s bony shoulders stood straight as she chatted with the boss’ slightly round wife, whose large hair almost blocked Lily’s view of Petunia. She lifted the glass to her mouth only to find it was empty. Her eyes rolled as she began the walk back to the open bar. Skirting the edge of the ballroom, she dodged various wedding guests as she finally reached the bar. 

The bartender looked up to see the familiar redheaded sister of the bride approaching the bar for her third--or was it fourth?--drink of the night. Propping his elbow on the bar he asked, “So, what’ll it be? Champagne again?” 

Lily took a moment to ponder the decision, eyebrows crinkling in thought, before responding. “No. Not enough buzz. Hit me with… a scotch. No rocks.” She set her empty champagne flute down on the bar with a clink as the young man turned to pour her scotch. In a moment he was turned back around with a lowball glass clinking in his hand. She took it from him, stared at it for a moment and then took a swig, scrunching her face as the liquor burned in her mouth.

“Thanks,” she said, nodding at the bartender as he gave her a slightly concerned smile. She stumbled a bit as she walked away from the bar only to be caught by a pair of strong arms.

“Ah, Lilyflower! I was wondering where you’d wandered off to! I was trapped in the midst of a stunningly fascinating conversation with your father. Explaining to me all the different types of fir trees, and which one is best for Christmas.” She faced him and sipped her scotch once more. 

“Woah, I see you’ve moved on from champagne. Are you… sure you want to keep drinking? At Petunia’s wedding?” His disheveled hair swayed as he moved to keep her from stumbling into a portly uncle as he passed by. “Why don’t we move over here…” He pulled her toward an empty table along the edge of the room, and upon reaching it and being downright assaulted by the vibrant pink frills decked with white roses, she stopped abruptly.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“What?”

“I said, no, I don’t think I want to sit down. I’vehaden-ough of this bloody wedding!” Lily hiccuped her way through the outburst, tossed back the rest of her scotch, and slammed the glass onto the table. She turned on her heel, leaving James to jog to catch up to her.

The seventeen year old boy glanced around, looking out for his girlfriend’s parents as he matched her pace. He was not quite sure they were aware that the open bar had served their slightly underage daughter, and was quite sure that upon a drunken display from Lily, his brilliant early impression on them would be ruined. 

“What’re you doing Lils?” he asked as she led them, or led herself rather, towards where Petunia and Vernon were still greeting guests. She only stopped once, briefly, to take yet another flute of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter, sipping it as she walked determinedly toward the newlyweds. James attempted to extricate the glass from her hand but failed as she swerved it away from him to take another drink. 

“I’m going to give my sister a piece of my mind, dammit! Where does she bloody hell get off on not including her own sister in the wedding party?” She turned and he barely stopped himself in time to avoid a collision. She spoke again, softer this time, and a tear began to roll down her rosy cheek. “I was supposed to be her maid of honor… All those years ago, before all of this wizarding business, we had it all planned. And it wasn’t any of this pink nonsense that Marge pushed on her. It was… beautiful and classic… and I was part of it.” James reached up to stroke her cheek, wiping away the small tear. 

“Now, her whale of a husband’s sister has hijacked our plans and wormed her way in, and I’ve barely gotten an invitation! Who the blooming hell does she think she is replacing me with Marge! No.” She brought the back of her hand to her face, wiping away the snot and tears and gently swiping her fingers under her eyelids to catch any runaway makeup. “No. I’m going over there right now and I’m going to make her look me in the eye and TELL me where it all went wrong. What I bloody did to deserve this.” 

She started off towards Petunia, James following quickly behind. The champagne glass teetered dangerously in her left hand and before it happened James saw it, but he was just a step too far away to prevent it. The broad, obnoxiously pink shoulder of Marge Dursley swung out into Lily’s path and before anyone could move the champagne had been flung down the front of her gown. The liquid soon spread downward, leaving behind a large darker spot in the deep blue material of Lily’s dress. The redhead stood frozen as the behemoth of a woman turned to assess the casualties of her wayward shoulder. Upon seeing Lily’s shocked expression and the growing spot on her gown, a smug smirk crept onto her face.

“Sorry, dear,” the large woman said snidely. “I didn’t see you there. I do hope the stain will come out.” 

The woman waddled away revealing Petunia, clad in her slim wedding dress looking apathetic and displeased. “James, would you mind escorting my sister somewhere where she can... clean up?” the thin woman said quietly, the words cutting the air like darts.

“We may just be off then, if it’s all the same to you. A lovely party, and congratulations. To you both,” he added awkwardly acknowledging the presence of the groom who had wisely chosen to stay out of the silent conflict, instead tossing Lily a disdainful look. 

“Thank you,” Petunia said brusquely, turning back towards her new husband and the relatives who were still lined up to talk with the happy couple.

Lily stepped toward her sister but James stopped her, whispering, “Please Lil, let’s just go.” It didn’t take much for the determination in her eyes to drop into defeat, and she slowly walked with him away from her prudish sister. 

The magical couple said their goodbye to Lily’s parents, referencing the time and an early train as their meager excuses. Lily’s heart cracked a bit at her mother’s expression, as it was one that seemed to finally acknowledge the severe distance between her two daughters. With a firm handshake for James from her father and a tight hug for her from her mum, the teenagers were off, back out to the front of the banquet hall.

Looking out into the cold night, they realized it had begun to rain. The two of them were still blocks away from the nearest safe point of apparition in the small muggle town and Lily let out an exhausted laugh at the utter disaster of the evening. Finally, James grabbed her hand and together they sprinted out into the downpour.

-

Upon arriving back at James’ mansion, where they were staying the night before returning to Hogwarts, Lily stopped in the entry to look at herself in the gilded mirror there. Her dripping red hair, her soaked dress, makeup running down her face. She sighed as she watched James step up behind her. 

“Well, at least the rain’s gone and blended in the champagne,” he offered in an attempt to lighten the mood. Unfortunately for him, his comment only prompted more tears from his still-drunk girlfriend as she began to push her fingers through her tangled hair. 

“Hey, hey, hey…” he said softly, wrapping his arms around her as he spoke. “Tonight was a terrible situation. I can’t even tell you how mad it makes me, the way Petunia treats you. But what I can tell you is that I love you, and I’m always, always, going to be here for you.” He brushed the hair out of her face and tilted her chin up with his index finger. “And, for the record, my wedding plans fully involve you. And absolutely no trace of the color pink, so…”