a/n: because I needed somewhere to put these bits and bobs. Can I just ask you, my darlings, to point out any errors you spot because I find a new one every time I proof-read and don't have a beta.
disclaimer: would I really create such marvellous characters that lead me to rip my heart out every day? Would I? No. Also kudos and jam doughnuts to you if you spot the Hustle reference, so I suppose the disclaimer should include the script writers for the show. Consider them included.
say my name
or
accidentally in love
Sirius turned to the sound of a harried Remus and Mary hurrying concernedly toward him.
"You haven't seen James, have you?"
Mary frowned. "Or Lily?"
He shook his head apologetically and muttered something to Moony about a Map that was incomprehensible to the girl. Remus nodded, and they began back the way they had come.
Sirius continued towards his destination - a broom cupboard on the fifth floor where he was supposed to be meeting a rather delicious looking Ravenclaw sixth-year – and wrenched the door open. After he stepped inside a second of shocked silence blanketed the three; the two Gryffindors, who were a considerable way down the corridor, then heard shouts of indignation from where their friend had just been standing.
His surprise gave way to devilish glee and with a wolfish smirk he stuck his head around the closet door and yelled, "Oi, Moony! MacDonald! I've found Prongs!" There was a pause. "And Evans!"
"You know, in all honesty, candour would be a much more attractive trait on you."
He gave her a questioning look by way of a raised eyebrow.
Lily explained simply. "You lie."
"I do not," he gasped, wounded.
"Look, Potter, you may be a better flier than I am but I could outrun you with my legs tied together." She paused in her teasing and flashed him a crooked smile. "Blindfolded."
They had been passing the journey from the village by arguing amicably about who was the fastest runner: Lily insisted it was her as she had once played football at her Muggle primary school, andher father had played for the county team so it was, therefore, in her genes. She also said that James was much more accustomed to flying, and consequently his running skills left a lot to be desired.
He had been trying to point out that as part of training he and the team did laps of the Quidditch pitch – on foot, he'd added, when she opened her mouth triumphantly – and being a Marauder, he was used to running from Filch. Here, at least, she conceded defeat.
"Those're awfully big words to live up to, Evans."
Her brow wrinkled as it always did when she was thinking. "Okay, how about a decider, then? Whoever reaches the carriages is the fastest." She pierced him with a warning look. "No funny business."
He was taking tentative steps in front of him; she mirrored his movement. "Funny business?"
"Magic."
"Right." He was hoping the chit-chat would provide a sufficient distraction but alas: she suddenly leaped backwards and a look of terror crossed her face. She started babbling about something coming their way and pointed, trembling; by the time he had turned around, wand out, to face whatever it was that's disturbed her, Lily had already streaked away, giggling raucously.
He ran after her (he'd always be running) and berated himself, Prongs, for falling for such a lowly trick, but the sound of her laughter made him laugh and he was so deliriously happy he couldn't believe it.
They tore through the Hogsmeade streets. He finally caught up with her about three feet from the carriages that were waiting to take them back up to the castle, panting slightly. James grabbed her around the middle and pulled her toward him, lifted her off her feet and spun them around a couple of times for good measure. A couple of nearby students whistled and she whirled on him with a look of indignation etched in her features but he knew her well enough to hear her playful tone, to see the amusement that glinted in her green eyes.
She reprimanded him. "You're a cheating git, James Potter."
"Ah, you love it," he shrugged.
He expected a derisive snort, a roll of the eyes, so not only was the slight reddening of her cheeks and the silent, secret smile a pleasant surprise but it reminded him that she finally, gloriously, said yes.
"Something wrong?" he asked, eyes narrowed.
Lily glanced up at him. Shortly: "No."
"You've been awfully quiet tonight, Evans."
"A girl can't be expected to think up sharp comebacks all the time, can she?"
"…well, no, I suppose not."
"Wit like mine takes effort, Potter."
"You might like to work a little harder then, hm?"
She hit him upside the head with her Charms workbook but supposed her expression betrayed the fact that her irritation was only for show.
"Lily?"
She looked at him again, slightly annoyed at his constant interruptions. "James, what is it?"
He blinked. "S'nothing. Don't worry." He gave her a cheerful shrug and swung his bag onto his shoulder. Lily glared at his retreating back as he passed out of the portrait hole to their Head Student study, and turned back to her work furiously. She'd turned down three bloody Hogsmeade invitations from other people and the bugger still hadn't asked her -
"Oh, Evans?" He stepped one foot back into the room. "D'ya wanna go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?"
She bit back an angry retort about his tardiness and allowed a true smile to her face. "Alright."
"Really?" A boyish grin rose to his mouth. He winked at her as he stepped out of the portrait hole for the second time and called, "Don't be late!"
Did he just –? Lily rose indignantly from her chair. "James!" She chased after him but he seemed to have disappeared. "That git," she muttered, but even Lily knew she didn't mean it.
As James walked through the castle, hoping to find his mates in their room, it struck him what had happened. He wasn't the sort of fellow to let much overcome him, but even he had to perch on the bench by the statue of Boris the Bewildered as it sunk in. He had just asked Lily Evans to Hogsmeade and she'd…she'd said yes. It was in a dazed sort of state that he made his way to the Gryffindor Tower.
"Yes, Moony, but as I was -" Sirius stopped mid-sentence. "Prongs? Prongs, are you alright?"
The Quidditch Captain (who had previously neglected to spend much time in the seventh-year boys' dormitory since his allocation of a Head Student room for his very own) had joined his friends in their room, plonking himself down on his old bed. He looked over at his best mate and a sort of strangled groan escaped his lips.
The Marauders exchanged glances and were crowded at his bed in a moment.
"Prongs?" This time Remus appealed to the boy. "James, what's happened?"
There were a few minutes of silence while Head Boy gathered his thoughts. "It's Lily," he croaked.
"Evans? What about her?"
James paled. "She - she said yes," he said hoarsely, to general disbelief.
After a few ringing seconds of shocked silence, Peter, who needed to clarify the statement James had just uttered, whispered, "She said what?"
"She said yes," he repeated.
"'Yes' to what?" Sirius asked, frustrated. "'Yes, James, you can borrow my Transfiguration text book'? 'Yes, James, of course I can pass you the roast potatoes'? 'Yes, James, I'd love you to snog me senseless in an empty classroom'?"
Prongs cleared his throat. "More the latter, I should think."
Another smothering silence arrived; the four boys looked at each other. Then simultaneously they let out whoops of celebration and congratulations and clapped their brother on the back at this, the most magnificent of achievements.
He helped her into the carriage – much to her chagrin, although he wasn't sure how much of that was put on – and took the seat next to her opposite a pair of Hufflepuff fifth-years. The atmosphere wasn't tense exactly, but it was certainly not as relaxed as it was when he and Lily were sitting in the Three Broomsticks. The Hufflepuff boy struck up a conversation with him about the latest Appleby Arrows match (James was never prouder of her than when Lily told the other, a little miffed, that James was a Kenmare Kestrels supporter who delighted in nothing more than loudly voicing his opinion that Darren O'Hare was the most remarkable player in Quidditch history) and James replied somewhat half-heartedly, much more focused on sneakily holding Lily's hand for the duration of the ride. It was only when she reached up to tuck a stray strand of copper hair behind her ear and planted her hand back on the bench a little too much to the left (his had surreptitiously moved a little too much to the right) that their hands finally connected, a warm zing pulsing through his body at the touch. He snuck a glance at her, saw the small smile gracing her lips as she gazed at the scenery out the window and allowed himself to delight in the moment for a while.
The journey back to the castle passed quickly and good-naturedly, although the Gryffindors made excuses to get away from the other two as soon as possible. Lily jumped down from the carriage to James' amusement and as he stepped down she pulled her hand away, but he clung on - perhaps his funny little nervous spasm wasn't the most romantic gesture but her eyes lit on his and she seemed to understand given the way her mouth quirked upwards and then she was grinning at him, a cheeky grin that made his heart sing and every fibre of his being ached to kiss her but he didn't, because it wasn't the right moment. There was too much distance between them - although, of course, that was the closest they'd ever been.
No, he didn't kiss her then.
"Face facts, Lil. You would love nothing more than to have your wicked way with him, you brazen hussy."
Lily appealed to Marlene, but the blonde witch just shrugged. "It's true. You fancy the pants off the bloke."
Indignant: "I do not fancy James Potter!"
Two days later a dejected Lily flopped into the chair. "It's official," she sighed, a little downcast. "I fancy James Potter."
She really had no idea, did she?
He was watching her talk (not particularly listening) and became fascinated by the motions of her face as it changed from expression to expression while she told her story. A twitch of the lips when a humorous detail was recounted, a slight crease between her eyebrows when she frowned slightly because something was displeasing, a raise of the eyebrows when she spoke of something a little unbelievable, and the way her eyes twinkled when she spoke; always the glittering light of laughter in her emerald eyes.
She had no idea how beautiful she was.
James, who had been lying on his side studying her intently, rolled onto his stomach and looked across over the Black Lake. Lily poked him and said, amused, "You weren't even listening, were you?"
He made an elaborate pantomime of innocence which did nothing for his defence except to send her into a fit of giggles, and he smiled at the sound of her uninhibited laughter.
After a few minutes she questioned him again, absently picking the grass on the bank stretching down to the shore before them.
"Well, it was a pretty boring story," James shrugged.
In response she smacked him, and started indignantly, "It was not a boring story!" but after catching sight of his self-satisfied smirk half-way through talking, hit him again and returned to mutilating the blades of grass in front of her. "A Sickle for your thoughts?"
"Ah, that'd be overcharging you," he chuckled. There's a pause. "I – I was thinking how lucky I am to be here." With you. The unspoken words hung in the air. "And how beautiful Hogwarts is."
Lily nodded. "I suppose I've never really appreciated it before. It's stunning, isn't it?"
He turned to look at her, tucking a copper curl behind her ear. "Yes, you are."
"You know, I think that might be the cheesiest thing you've ever said." She fixed him with a pointed look. "And you have quite a history."
He grinned at her. "Is it working?"
"Oh, yes." She smiled back at him, (a smile for him, only him) and he leaned over, angling his body towards her.
"I suppose you're going to kiss me now, aren't you?"
"I suppose."
He wasn't sure whether it was he who leaned in first, or Lily, but quickly there was no distance between them left to cover and their lips finally touched.
"I feel sorry for you sometimes," Lily ventured, tugging her boyfriend's old Quidditch jumper over her head and yawning. As she scrambled into bed beside him, his arm curling protectively around her, he simply raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
He felt her nod against his chest. "You'll never know the blessed relief that accompanies taking off a bra at the end of the day."
James pulled a face. "I don't know - I've discovered the merits of taking off yours."
She tapped him on the arm. "So that's where my underwear has been disappearing to!"
"I didn't mean -"
"Night, James. Love you."
"Night, Lil." There were a few minutes of silence; then, "I - I'm not a transvestite."
Lily opened an eye. "I know."
"Blimey, Evans, you've got legs!"
Dryly: "Your powers of observation never fail to astound me, Black."
"No, but you know what I mean. You're actually a pretty good-looking bird."
"Padfoot -" warned James, but Lily just cocked an eyebrow.
"Bird?" she asked. "What, like a parrot?"
Sirius gave her a look of utmost exasperation. "No, a bird bird," he explained, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Lily!"
"Er - hi, Kevin," she greeted, a little bemused.
"Look, I was - uh - I was thinking - actually, d'ya mind if I sit -" He slid into the seat opposite her.
"Well I - never mind. Sorry, what?"
"I was thinking that we could, you know, go out? To Hogsmeade? Next weekend."
"A date?"
"Yes, if you like." He shrugged bashfully. A little red in the face, he turned her book towards him, thoughtlessly disturbing her carefully placed sheets and folders. "Oh, the Cheering Charm? I mastered that ages ago! I think there's a book in here somewhere, I'll just go and get it for you."
Well, she thought wryly, there's probably more than a book in here, given it being a library and all.
Sighing, she turned back to her parchment, only to be interrupted for a second time.
"Third-year Charms, Evans? Bit difficult for you, don't you think?"
She let out a laugh that sounded suitably false and glared at James. "It's not for me, I - I tutor someone and I said I'd do them some notes." He did not, as she expected, mock her for helping a younger student; rather he smiled a rare smile at her and she found herself to be pleasantly surprised. "What are you doing here, anyway?"
He heaved a theatrical sigh. "I was just passing really, and, since rescuing damsels in distress seems to be my forte I thought I'd come and see what that git wanted."
"I'm not-"
"A damsel?"
"- in distress, or at least, I wasn't until you got here. And he's not a git."
"Yes he is."
"He isn't. Ravenclaw doesn't automatically equal git."
"He was asking you out, wasn't he?"
She coughed a little in surprise. "What?"
"I can tell, you know. My detection senses are tingling."
"Detective."
"That's what I said."
An amused smile played at her lips.
He elaborated: "I was watching him. He walked behind you once to take a look at your book so he could find a topic of conversation, and then waited over there for, two, three minutes, making sure you were alone and that you wouldn't be bothered. He took a breath, mustered up the courage, sneaked a quick look around and moved over to you, but he botched it because he bumped the table before he could introduce himself and made you look up. You smiled at him, which made him braver, and he asked you, but you didn't seem enthusiastic and he needed an escape route - the Charms book was just a ruse. Right now, I'd say he's behind one of these shelves trying not to fall apart with embarrassment."
She stared at him. After a short pause, she asked, "And you could tell all that from just a look?" She was serious and quite solemn and she gave him this look like, like she knew him, and said, "How?"
She's asking him how he knew that the idiot was asking her when it should have been him and she's asking him how he knew that that's how the idiot was feeling and she wouldn't really ask anything else, would she?
He quirked an eyebrow. "It used to be me."
She opened her mouth and then closed it, and he knew they were both thinking the same thing; that yes, it was him, but her rejections weren't as kind and alright, maybe, in the beginning, his offers weren't as genuine.
They looked at each other for a long while, silent messages relaying back and forth, and just as she was licking her lips and beginning to speak they're interrupted by a victorious, "Found it!"
Lily stomped into her bedroom and ordered her bewildered cousin out. She turned to James, fuming. "I'm going to get dressed," she announced through clenched teeth, "before she speaks to me again and I kill her."
"I'm fairly sure homicide is still illegal," James reminded her brightly.
"Don't worry, I'll bury the body before anybody realises and just replace her with a horse in drag."
"Your own sister? Little harsh."
Lily lowered her voice in case any of her Muggle relatives happened past the door and glared. "Shejust told me to 'stick my wand where the sun doesn't shine'."
James roared with laughter. "Feisty, that one," was his only comment.
"Oh, you are so going to pay for that, James Potter!" she yelled.
He laughed. "Catch me if you can!"
Her hands reached down the back of her coat, trying and failing to remove some of the cold wet snow that had just been flung at her. She groaned in frustration; the nerves at her neck were already tingling at the impact. Tightening her scarf, she bent down and compacted some of the icy whiteness into a ball.
"Wingardium leviosa," she muttered, pointing her wand at the snow. Lily flicked her wrist sharply and the snowball went whizzing off in the Head Boy's direction. There was the quiet thump of a target being hit, a yelp, and a stream of oaths. She turned to him as he stormed over, hastily trying to arrange her face into as innocent an expression as possible.
"Yes, sweetheart?"
He looked at her, opened his mouth, closed it, and frowned. His eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth again, before closing it once more.
"Something stuck in your throat?" she inquired politely.
He leant down to her. "This means war."
During the next fifteen minutes, students and staff alike at Hogwarts may well have played witness to the most vicious snowball fight in the school's history. James had the advantage physically, he supposed, especially with his training as a Chaser, but Lily had the ebullience of the younger sibling and wasn't top of the Charms class for nothing.
It ended when she trod on the ice at the bank of the Black Lake: he had her trapped between the water and his body and she slipped. Her arms wind-milled, and he dived forward in an attempt to catch her - a little late, they both went down, James landing on top of his girlfriend. He checked to make sure she wasn't hurt before allowing her infectious giggles to draw him into reluctant laughter. They calmed after a few minutes, wiped tears from their eyes and moaned about aching stomachs. She suddenly realised their position and heat rose to her cheeks; she kissed him quickly and pushed him off her.
"Move, Potter. My arse is getting wet."
He obliged and stood, allowing her a hand to pull herself up. "That's not the snow, love."
Lily smacked him.
"Potter," she growled, "I swear to Merlin, if you don't stop it right this instant I will perform a banishing charm on a certain part of your anatomy that I have a feeling you'll want to keep attached to your body."
"Crikey, Evans, you're a bit eager to get to that this early in the relationship, aren't you?"
"Sod off, Black -"
"Don't go even go there, Pads -"
"It must be so hard for Remus sometimes," mused Lily.
James glanced her way, pushing the irksome glasses higher up his nose. "Why so?"
"Well, he misses so many lessons - not to mention all the mischief you lot make."
He gave her a sad smile. "Yes, but his mother is very ill."
Lily gasped. "That as well? On top of everything else? Especially at full moon…"
James choked slightly. "Sorry, what?"
"At a full moon? You know…" she paused. "You do know, don't you?"
"Of course I know, but how do know you know?" he asked, slightly pale.
Lily laughed. "James, I've been a Prefect with him for months. I think he thought it would be the lesser of two evils to tell me rather than keep making excuses."
"Right." James scribbled a couple more notes, and a silence fell between them. "Lily - his - his Mum's not really ill. It's just one of the stories we put out so people don't find out the real reason."
"Oh," she said. "You really care about him, don't you?"
There was a pause. Then: "Can I ask you something?"
James nodded.
"'Cause I always - I mean, it makes absolutely no difference to me whatsoever, I really don't mind, but, it's just - how could anyone hate Remus? He's Remus for Merlin's sake! I always feel kind of awkward asking him about his - his condition because he gets this, I don't know, this defeated puppy look and embarks on this huge self-loathing speech and honestly, I feel like hitting him sometimes, but - why are you laughing?"
James' chuckles died down. "It's just - if he heard you saying this…he's so ashamed of what he is and his furry little problem and everything, and we've been telling him for about the past four years that it doesn't matter to people - well, the important people, anyway - and if they think it's bad then that's their problem because we know who he really is...and lots of other soppy stuff like that."
Lily smiled. "It's not soppy, it's sweet." He tilted his head and glanced at her over the top his glasses.
"Sweet?"
"You look just like a librarian when you do that," she giggled.
He winked at her. "My future occupation, I'll have you know."
"Really? Not an international Quidditch star? Or, you know, Head of the Auror Office?"
The boy shrugged. "'Course not." James returned his attentions to the notes he was copying down from the textbook in front of him. "D'you know what you want to do? When we leave, I mean."
Now it was Lily's turn to shrug. "It's another year away yet. We've ages to decide. But –" she broke off, unsure of whether James would laugh at her. Recalling that he'd trusted her enough to talk about Remus' – what was it he'd said? His furry little problem – that she found she wanted to tell him. "I want to make a difference."
He nodded again, and another silence fell between them.
"You know," the witch said slowly, "librarians aren't very attractive. You could do much better."
James looked up. "You saying I'm attractive, Evans?"
Lily was suddenly very interested in the book she had half-heartedly been reading, but as she looked away he couldn't help but notice the faint pink dusting her cheeks.
"How can you be so calm?" he fretted, wringing his hands and finally coming to a stop at her bedside.
"What do you want me to do, James? You're hysterical enough for the both of us, and you aren't the one who's about to push a baby out of their -"
"Mrs Potter, how are you feeling at the moment?" Healer Williams bustled over at that moment, clipboard in hand.
Biting back a how the hell do you think I feel? Lily gritted out, "At the moment? Not so good."
James resumed his pacing.
Lily was on her way to the common room from Herbology when smash! The realisation hit her like a train, and her bag (literally and painfully) crashed into her hip.
She was in love.
Oh good Godric.
She was bloody in love with James Potter.
She swallowed and makes a decision: she would tell him. Right now. She would tell the boy that she loved him, right now.
Her feet remained rooted to the floor.
She revised her earlier decision. Five minutes hence, she would tell him.
Lily mentally slapped herself. She was being a wuss, and she wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing. She would tell her boyfriend that she loved him. That was all it was. Nothing earth-shattering.
She um-ed and ah-ed and ten minutes later she set off towards the common room again. She was passing the Charms classroom when she heard it, stopping just in time before she rounded the corner and intruded, bag slamming painfully into her side for the second time.
"You know," a contemptuous voice sneered, "pretty soon she's gonna get tired of your arrogance,Head Boy."
She risked a peep around the stone column she was hiding behind and her blood began to boil. There were two black-haired boys in the corridor in front of her; one taunting the other, one walking away, fists clenched so hard it looked painful.
"You don't deserve her, Potter. I can't wait until you screw up and she sees you for who you really are."
She'd have bet any money you liked that his jaw was clenched, save him expelling all manner of hexes as teenage wizards are wont to do. His hand twitched towards his robe pocket a couple of times as he strode swiftly away from the Slytherin but he never reached for it. Lily stepped around the corner at the same time as the other boy and when she came into view Snape's face jarred with shock.
"You're pathetic," she hissed, pushing roughly past him. Setting off after her boyfriend she reached the Gryffindor tower, breathless. With a wheezed pygmy puff to the Fat Lady she climbed ungainly into the common room and arrived by Sirius. He understood her 'where is he?' look and nodded to the Quidditch Captain's dormitory; she allowed him a smile of gratitude and headed in the direction of James' door, knocking once.
Muffled: "Come in."
James was sitting back on his bed, collar undone and tie and shoes discarded in a heap on the floor. He snapped his eyes open when he heard footsteps padding across him room, closing his eyes contentedly when he the familiar form of his girlfriend.
She slid onto his lap, tugging him close to her and sifting her fingers though his fringe, kissing him gently. Her breath warmed his face; her lips brushed his as she spoke.
"What's wrong?"
He leant his head back against the wall, eyes still shut. There were a few seconds of silence, then: "Snape was being a cock," he said flatly.
Lily hummed against his neck; she had dropped her head to his shoulder while she waited for him to speak. She glanced at him, returned her lips to his. "Nothing new there, then."
James forced a grin. She whispered his name, her hands joining at the back of his neck. He opened one eye. "Yeah?"
She blushed a little but held her ground, determined not to break her earlier (admittedly flimsy) resolution. "I love you."
His other eye opened and hazel met green. "Really?"
A smile.
"I love you, too."
We regret to inform you that the author has gone into a fluff-induced faint. Reviews will help revive her.
Please. Give what you can.