I Will Make You Hurt

Prologue

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It was supposed to be an arrangement that benefited them both. They would take what they wanted when they needed it, and no one would be sorry or hurt. But despite every sincere intention, nothing ever goes completely the way it was meant to. Lily/James.

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The hair on the back of her neck bristled as she heard him enter the compartment and slide the door shut behind him. "Hi Potter," she drawled lazily, not bothering to look up from her book. He ignored her and slouched into the seat opposite, resting his legs up on the bench seat beside her and leaning back with his arms behind his head. She shuddered slightly at his encroachment of her personal space, knowing that he was loving making her squirm. His very presence irritated her, as though he radiated some kind of sickly poison that made her both anxious and annoyed.

It hadn't always been like this between them. He used to pester her constantly with questions and inane conversation, endlessly desperate to capture her attention and get some kind of reaction out of her. Her friends had even told her that he said he loved her. How ridiculous. Potter was a boy, hardly mature enough to feel anything as emotionally complex as love, for a conquest anyway. The number of times Remus Lupin had taken her aside and tried to persuade her to just give him a chance…how completely ridiculous. Potter had half the girls in the school drooling over him anyway. Those idiots were suckers for Quidditch players. Lily personally preferred men who were intelligent and refined, not boisterous meatheaded scoundrels. Though it could hardly be said that Potter wasn't smart. He had breezed through every exam and assignment he had ever gotten with impossible ease, without putting in any noticeable effort, another aspect of him that Lily despised. Potter had had everything he ever wanted handed to him on a platter. He didn't know the meaning of work. How he had managed to slip into the position of Head Boy Lily could never really know, but then again, Potter had the knack of convincing people that he was capable of doing just about anything. How Dumbledore could have thought that he was in any way responsible or sensible enough, Lily couldn't understand.

Now she was stuck with him for a whole year. She would have to share compartments with him, sit through countless meetings with him and live with him in the Head's Tower. Bathroom time would be a constant battle. She could bet pretty confidently that Potter probably spent as much time preening and beautifying as she did, if not longer. The race to get in first in the mornings and evenings would be fierce.

His unconscious tapping and tuneless humming was really starting to annoy her. Sure, he had every right to be in here, it was his compartment too, but surely he'd prefer to be off scheming and fooling around with his gooney mates or ravishing some vaguely attractive bimbo in a toilet cubicle or something. It wasn't as though he enjoyed her company, he was ignoring her presence as much as she was resenting his.

He'd only become like this towards her fairly recently, and it still shocked her a bit. It was such a sudden change. Not that she really cared, but she supposed it might have had something to do with him walking in on her more than making out with Jake Yeaderley at the last Gryffindor vs. Slytherin after-party. It had been a great party, even Lily agreed. She had had a fair bit to drink too, and somehow had ended up with her underwear around her ankles, propped up against the sink in the prefect's bathroom with Yeaderley's hand up her skirt and his tongue down her throat. Potter must have seen her stumble out of the portrait hole with Jake and wondered where they were going. Potter always got inappropriately friendly with her when he was drunk, something that repulsed her about him even more. Potter wasn't exactly known for his self-restraint or lazy hands. Anyway, she had been up against the sink with Jake, her intoxicated brain contemplating whether it was a good idea to go down on him next, when Potter had burst in, as easily as it is for a drunk person to burst into places. The look of hurt and repulsion in his eyes had been briefly haunting. Potter had managed to lose his clothes somehow and was stumbling around in a pair of burgundy boxers, but still had the Gryffindor flag draped limply over his shoulders. "What on earth are you doing with that slimy Ravenclaw moron, Evans?" He managed to spit out, before yacking on the bathroom floor in front of him. "Oh fuck," He had muttered next, staring down at his puke, "That is so fucking gross. So are you. Fucking disgustingly gross." Yeaderley had just rolled his eyes and looked down at James with disdain and led her out of the bathroom and up to his room, leaving James on all fours, vomiting. And the rest of that night sort of faded into a blur in Lily's mind. It had been okay, she supposed. In a drunken, clumsy sort of way. Yeaderley had seemed cute enough at the time, but he was no sex god.

"So are we going to start brainstorming and planning and stuff? What ideas have you got Evans?" James said suddenly, bringing her out of her head. Lily marked her page and shut her book, peering up at him with a mixture of sarcasm and surprise, one eyebrow raised. "What?" James asked, his tone slightly annoyed, "Don't think I'm not as committed to this Head gig as you are Evans. I know you think I don't deserve it, and Diggory or some boring Ravenclaw should have got it, but Dumbledore obviously thinks I'm up for it, so I'm going to make the fucking most of it, and I don't give a winged shit what you think about it. We don't have to get along, but we have to function as a team, and if you're willing to put your petty prejudices aside and work with me properly, then I'm willing to put up with you."

"Ha. That's rich coming from you Potter. You're willing to put up with me, huh? How honourable. You know you don't deserve to be here. You are unpredictable and sloppy and completely unreliable." She spat back at him.

"Haha, that's what most girls find attractive about me. My charming spontaneity and loveable flaws. But I hope I only have to spell this out once for you. You're supposed to be a smart witch, so hopefully you'll get it: I stopped caring what you think of me a long time ago, and nothing you do will stop me from making this year the best anyone's had in a long time. I don't care if you're with me or not. You may not have noticed, but there's a war going on, and everyone needs to laugh and joke a bit and feel like the world isn't coming to an end. Because it just fucking might be."

"Fine," she grumbled, irritated that he had a point.

James just nodded, not showing his surprise that she actually sort of agreed with him. She was still as cruelly beautiful as ever, but he no longer idolised her like he used to. It made him bitter towards her, how much time he'd wasted thinking about her, imagining himself talking to her, kissing her and dreaming about her. She wasn't really who he had imagined her to be, he should have known that. The real Lily was just as flawed as every other person on this planet, not a serene, perfect goddess. It was downright depressing though, that she was so smart and so pretty but so grumpy and studious with one hell of a fiery temper. But not a prude. He knew that she opened up and relaxed around her friends, but she was a focused girl. She came to school to study, first over friends and having fun, which was probably why she always came top in every subject. She must have had it pretty hard at first, being a muggleborn and all. Blood discrimination was still rife, whereas Hogwarts was James' playground.

"Ha. To think we are supposed to be spending this train trip getting to know each other better and becoming better friends." James said, a hint of bitterness lingering on his voice.

"It's worth a try I guess."

"So…are you still with that Yeaderley fuckwit?"

"Oh, charming. How charming you are Potter. Just when I thought you were actually beginning to make a real effort with this. Not that it's any of your business, but I never went out with him, that after-party thing you so rudely…and purposely interrupted was a one off."

"You went back to his room and fucked him, didn't you? After you left me retching up my organs on the bathroom floor."

"What was I supposed to do, Potter? I was hardly in any condition to take care of you myself. It wasn't my fault you were like that anyway."

"Haha. Don't think I didn't notice that you didn't answer my question."

"It's none of your fucking business. I don't have the audacity to interrogate you about your countless stupid tarts, so leave me the hell alone."

"You did! I knew it! That's so fucking foul. Yeaderley is such a…ewww. Was he your first?" Lily just glared at him, finding it impossible to think that she could hate him any more than she did now.

"Fuck off. Don't think I didn't hear about you and Emma D'Angelio. Talk about foul."

"What? Emma's a hot bitch. Nice tits."

"You disgust me."

"Not half as much as you disgust me."

Lily's eyes narrowed, and she leant forward, looking him straight in the eyes, her voice low and quivering with restrained fury. "Look Potter. I'm sorry I never turned out to be the princess you always thought I was, but that hardly gives you the right to judge me for hooking up with some guy when you lap up the attentions of every girl that falls onto your dick." James rolled his eyes and leant forward as well, determined not to let her feel like she could intimidate him into backing down or admitting he was wrong.

"You're not remotely sorry. I don't fucking care, Evans. I'm over all that now. Don't be jealous that just because you didn't want me doesn't mean that lots of other girls don't." He spat viciously, suddenly aware of how close their faces were. He could see how her jaw and fists were clenched with anger, and the vein pulsing slightly at her temple. Some of her hair had come loose of her long plait and was wisping prettily around her face. She was still fucking sexy, he had to admit. Lily likewise studied him. His jaw was set, his lips were curled in a sneer and his eyes were narrowed, but she could still see the bright kaleidoscope of browns and greens that made up his deep hazel eyes. Their brows were both furrowed in annoyance at each other, both wondering who would dare to get their fight going again. And then suddenly their lips connected, neither was quite sure who had leaned in and breached the gap, but with much gnashing of teeth, their tongues wrestled for dominance. Neither of them really found it all that unexpected. They had both made each other so angry that they were either going to start bashing each other or punching and kicking the walls in. James pushed Lily into the corner of the bench seat and bit furiously at her neck, leaving a bright red welt. She tugged at his hair roughly in retaliation and he hissed and squeezed her breasts, not enough to hurt her but to make her uncomfortable. She angrily ripped his shirt open, the buttons pinging off against the window and bouncing onto the floor and dragged her fingernails down his chest, leaving ten straight red scratches from his neck to his belt. He pinched her nipples beneath her shirt and she growled, squeezing his throbbing crotch hard. James let out an uncontrolled moan and unzipped and pulled down her skirt, shoving a finger roughly into her, feeling the hot wetness of her and not quite believing this was happening. She clenched herself around his finger and bit his neck this time, giving him a welt to rival her own. He smirked and bit and sucked at her neck again, giving her another welt, making her groan in pain and shoved another finger into her in time with his first, feeling her hips rise to meet his rough thrusts.

He kept thrusting his fingers into her, but pulled away from her lips and stared at her. Her eyes were closed and her breath was coming out in little gasps. He still had it. "Evans. I'm only going to ask once. Do you want this or not?" He eyes opened and she looked at him as though she was just remembering where she was and who she was with. "Shut up Potter. You know we both need this." She reached for his belt and undid it skillfully, unzipping his fly and pulling his pants and boxers down in one fluid movement. He dragged her out of the corner of the seat and lay her down, lifting one of her legs over his shoulder, he thrust deeply into her and she let out a low moan. Lily had never felt so intensely, pinned down to the seat by the weight of Potter's built frame, with him thrusting fast and roughly into her. She could help but moan. James was surprised by the effect he was having on her, but also how turned on seeing her like this made him. They hated each other, they made each other tense and irritable, and now they were both getting what they needed: pleasurable release. He didn't think he could hold on much longer, Lily was dragging her nails up and down his back and her groaning was driving him crazy. All those times he thought about taking her, never knowing whether or not it would ever happen, and this is how it comes about. He couldn't quite believe it.

All the blood had rushed from their heads. She was biting him in the chest now, her tongue darting out and licking his nipples teasingly. He was sucking on her neck, but not hard enough to bruise her. "Harder," she moaned, feeling her climax nearing, and James began to thrust painfully slow, just to vex her. She bit his nipple in annoyance. He laughed softly, knowing how much he was frustrating her and withdrew himself almost completely, loving the power he had over her as her hips bucked needily against him. He suddenly thrust into her quickly and deeply, completely burying himself in her and she came, crying out loudly and clenching around him. The feeling of the heat of her orgasm exploding all around him and the shiver it sent through her whole body tipped him over the edge with a deep guttural moan: "Lilllyyy." He buried his face in her neck and took in the soft smell of her hair. She scoffed at hearing him moan her name and shoved him off her and onto the floor with a thud. "Oww. You bitch."

"Thanks for the fuck Potter."

"Yeah. Likewise."

Saying nothing more to each other, they redressed in silence and both walked out of the carriage, turning and walking in opposite directions down the train.