Choice (caution to the wind) || Read on Ao3 || 5K Words
“It’s just…” When she speaks again, her voice is softer. It’s tired, but not absent of a sharp quality to it. “Between the war and the Ministry…I miss feeling like I had a choice. I sometimes feel like things just happen and all I can do is react.”
Potter seems instantly aware of the almost imperceptible shift in her and his hand comes up to ruffle through his hair. “Righteous anger’s a good look on you, Evans. Always has been."
Or: Lily finds a small way to take her life into her own hands.
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for @jilytoberfest's prompt 21: "We'll be alright." Order!Jily, canon divergence. rated g.
read below, or on ao3 with my other jilytober fics.
________
“Lily…”
“He’s going to find out, James.”
“We don’t know that for certain.”
“We do. Have any of us ever been able to hide anything from him? During school, or with the Order?”
“The stakes are higher now. We’ll be smarter.”
“He’s a Legilimens, James. One of the very best there ever was. As soon as we’re alone with him, he’ll know.”
“He doesn’t know there’s anything to know. He won’t be looking.”
“Do you honestly believe he fully trusts any of us? After the ambush at Portree, after the Prewetts? I might even be disappointed if he wasn’t probing us all as often as he could.”
“He isn’t. He wouldn’t do that. He recruited us, he trained us. He’s known us since we were eleven. He’s practically family.”
“James, at the very least, he’s going to be able to tell I’m pregnant. Soon enough, that’ll take only a passing glance, not Legilimency.”
“But that doesn’t matter if he doesn’t know about the prophecy. If anything, he’ll just bench us earlier than I ever would’ve been able to persuade you to on my own.”
“The prophecy getting back to him is only a matter of time. He’s much closer with Sybil than we are. We just got lucky. We won’t get lucky again. We have to fight for ourselves.”
“Lily, even if he does… would that really be so bad? Even with my family vault, he’s got connections we can’t imagine. He could keep us safe.”
“We can keep ourselves safe. We need to keep our baby safe. The war is the most important thing to Dumbledore, James. Not our family. I…I would sacrifice myself for this war. I really would. I would not sacrifice this family.”
“Lily…”
“You know I’m right. You don’t even agree with what you’re saying. You started putting our things in order and converting money from the vault before I even asked. I think you’re looking for an alternative, darling, because this is the last moment we can turn back. But we can’t. There isn’t an alternative.”
“I know. I do know. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“James, darling…”
“I… I don’t mean to make this harder. I can’t help it. I kept hoping something would change. That it would never come to this, even as we were planning for it.”
“I know, love.”
“I… I wish we could tell Sirius. I wish we could tell Remus and Peter. The world feels a lot smaller than it used to, doesn’t it? Than it used to even a year ago. The whole world has two-and-a-bit people in it now.”
Lily takes a shuddering breath and skims her thumb across his cheekbone. “I know, darling. Are you ready?”
James breaks his gaze from his wife’s to survey the cramped flat they’ve called home for almost three years now. It looks the same as it usually does, by design. Shoes left haphazardly by the door, dust collecting on the kitchen table and counters, the rubbish bin half full. Their bed is unmade and their closet is mostly full. Framed photos line the walls, a mix of Muggle and magic. Their loo has two toothbrushes in it and no pregnancy tests. On the dresser in their bedroom are two tickets for a film the following week and a note from Lily to James reminding him to pick up more milk. On their Gryffindor-red couch lies James’s favorite jumper, an old Puddlemere one, and Lily’s copy of Persuasion.
James adjusts the strap of the bag on his back, and then the frame of his glasses. He clutches his wand tightly in one hand and takes his wife’s in the other.
He looks back at Lily, and there are tears shining in her lovely green eyes. He kisses her on the forehead and feels a tear of his own drip down his cheek and onto hers.
“We’ll be alright,” Lily says. Her voice catches, then breaks. “We’ll be just fine.”
James drops her hand to clutch her tightly around the middle, and he feels her do the same.
Tell me something interesting or post a snippet of order!jily 👀
Hey, thanks for the ask <3
I don't have all that much for order!jily, just vibes and a few very angsty scenes in my mind... That said here is a small snippet :)
She wakes to a familiar scent; rain on a riverbank, the factory chimney that never sleeps.
What once brought comfort offers only distress, the harshness of the memory, the pain of what she knows is lost.
Her lips crack as they part with an unlikely plea, “Mum?”
But her parents are gone, she knows this to be true, and while her thoughts untangle from this cruel illusion, she reconciles that it’s not simply her mind playing tricks on her.
The absence of sound, the absence of light, so absolute it can only be manufactured.
She can taste someone’s magic in the air, someone brought her here, someone is doing this.
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let me make it up to you || Read on Ao3 || 3.4k Words || Rated E
Two weeks ago, James left for a mission in the middle of the night without saying a word. Now he's is back, and Lily's not so quick to forgive.
His eyes flicker between frustration and exhaustion, and, at her silence, they drop to follow the featherlight trace of his hand up her side. His thumb brushes the underside of her breast and he lets out a shaky exhale while she stifles a pathetic whimper. “I’m not going to apologize for following orders, and you’re allowed to be mad. But fuck…I’ve missed you so much.” Slowly, he leans down to kiss her. She doesn’t pull away.
“Be mad, Lily,” he says against her lips, thumb brushing a little higher. Lily leans into his touch. “But let me make it up to you.”
Unexhilarating Stakeouts (And Their Surprising Benefits) || 984 Words || Read on Ao3
Written for @jilymicrofics Mystery Microfic May Event. Y'all guessed correct with 60%! Thank you to @eastwindmlk for the banner!
James and Lily find themselves paired together for an Order stakeout (and an uneventful one at that).
All things considered, it wasn’t a terrible assignment.
Sure, they were stuck behind a copse of rather thorny bushes that made moving to stretch a pain in the arse (literally), but it was a nice, temperate night somewhere outside of Canterbury. A few clouds dappled the waning moon above, a soft breeze danced atop the thorny bushes to keep them cool, and Lily Evans’ head kept falling onto his shoulder as she drifted in and out of sleep.
@jilymicrofics July Prompt 8: Hazy || 500 Words || NSFW || Canon Divergent
MICROFIC MASTERLIST
Note: Look. I was going to try and wait until tomorrow, (especially since I dropped a oneshot today) but it's tomorrow somewhere, and Taylor (and specifically I Can See You, a Jily song if I've EVER heard one) has absolutely invaded my brain.
Smut below the cut.
Red hair falls in waves down her back, collarbone exposed to the warm summer air as his lips descend on the smooth pale skin, kissing each freckle in a trail down the slope of her breasts, hands moving up to gently work them until a soft moan escapes from between swollen lips.
Feet fumble as they blindly make their way back, back, back against the stone exterior of the cottage, lips traveling up her neck to meet her own, mouths parting and breath mingling, sharp little gasps escaping her as his fingers roll over piqued pink peaks.
The scene swims and suddenly the garden, the gentle sunlight is gone. Instead there’s a storm raging outside and the power is out in that Order safe house they shared in Portsmouth. A handful of candles light the room and she’s on top of him, flushed skin aglow in the candlelight, head thrown back in ecstasy as her hips move faster and faster, his glasses skewed on his face as he looks up with awe, hands gripped so tightly into her hips his fingers will surely leave marks.
A groan rips out as he rolls her until her back is against the mattress, red halo hair strewn over the pillows, and he continues her pace, leaning over and capturing her lips hungrily as she shudders around him with a delicious cry.
Another change, this time on a couch he vaguely recognizes as hers. There’s a warm glow from the lamps, and judging from the kitchen window it’s around dusk. They’re upright, arms slung around on another, knees and thighs touching, lips lazily moving together as hands move from hair to face to chest to arms—lightly touching, tentatively exploring their fully-clothed bodies. His lips trail to where her neck and shoulder meet and she lets out a breathy sigh of his name, “James…”
Something about that, about his name in her mouth like that sends him reeling back and he blinks rapidly as the library of the Order’s Headquarters comes into focus, a flushed and fuming Lily Evans sitting before him.
“Have your fun?” She bites, her voice strained.
“I don’t—Evans—what?” His mind has trouble focusing, hazy thoughts of gardens and candlelight and swollen lips and the way she bloody sounded crying out in that safe house scrambling his mind and affecting all of his senses. He’s confused. “Those…weren’t memories…”
She glares, and James notices the heaviness of her breathing. “No. Seems like you dug a little further.”
”Further?”
“Dreams, Potter.” She tears her eyes away, crossing her arms and muttering, "Fucking Moody’s fucking Legilimency practice."
“Dreams?” James breathes, and the blood in his veins hums. “You have drea—those kind of dreams? About me?”
Her simmering gaze flickers back to him, and he’s not sure if he imagines the way it briefly drops to his lips or if it’s just the memories of her dreams playing tricks on him.
“You’ve seen for yourself.” She breathes. “Happy, Potter? Or would you like to see more?”
