"A cigarette is the perfect type of a perfect pleasure. It is exquisite, and it leaves one unsatisfied. What more can one want?"
- Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray
It was a cold November evening, Saturday, when it first happened.
She had snuck up to the Astronomy Tower after Marlene had finally stopped giggling about Thomas MacMillian, sixth year Hufflepuff prefect, complimenting her new haircut. Lily thought she ought to have been flattered as well, since she was the one that originally cut Marlene's hair—and it did look fantastic—but there was a limited amount of time one could spend talking about Thomas' baby blue eyes and two hours had been more than enough for her.
Thanking Merlin, God, and many other great witches, wizards and deities, Lily rolled across her bed searching her drawer for the small purse. Upon finding it she quietly departed from the dormitory hoping she wouldn't encounter anyone in the common room. Luck was on her side for the room was indeed empty despite it being only mere thirteen minutes after midnight on a Saturday night, and the redhead quickly tiptoed to the entrance door, leaving the Gryffindor Common Room behind as the Fat Lady noted how it was far too late for a respectable young lady to roam the castle on her own. Getting to the Astronomy Tower usually didn't take long but it always, without a fail, demanded that the person doing the sneaking possessed a certain amount of wit mixed with a sense for mischief. Avoiding the prefects was easy, in fact some of them were rather tolerant. The professors, however, were much worse. They patrolled the hallways, carefully and in a surprisingly quiet manner, especially Professor McGonagall who often times patrolled in her animagus form. Thus, sneaking through the hallways demanded a certain level of expertise, a detour on the right, taking care not to step into a trap step on the way, a few simple shortcuts and Lily was well on her way towards the Tower.
It was a little before 1 o'clock when she had finally reached the very top of it. She checked if she was truly alone—she lost count of how many times she had walked in on couples in various stages of undress—before leaning against the wall and sliding to the floor breathing heavily, lungs heaving to get more air inside as her pulse drummed, courtesy of Mrs. Norris sneaking around the bottom of the Astronomy Tower. At least the red head hoped it was Mrs. Norris and not Professor McGonagall, otherwise the woman would be extremely disappointed in her. Once she had finally calmed her breathing Lily reached inside her purse, her hand nearly elbow deep in the tiny thing. The girl had a knack for extension charms. First she felt the cool metal of her tweezers, then the warmer, softer texture of the lip balm she always carried and finally a small bottle of perfume. Groaning she roamed her fingers around the inside of the purse until they grasped a pack of Players' cigarettes and, after searching a bit more, a lighter. With a sigh of relief she pulled out a cigarette and stuck it between her lips. Bringing the lighter to the tip of it she tried lighting the cigarette once, then twice, and then finally the third time before realizing that her lighter was of no use any longer which elicited a small groan from her lips.
Just her luck.
The one night in the whole week when she was able to sneak out on her own and her lighter decided that its time to become a faulty-no-use lighter had finally arrived.
Ruddy, faulty, of-absolutely-no-use-lighter.
Without a second thought she chucked it back in the purse, her temper slowly rising. If there was one thing that Lily Evans absolutely abhorred it was using magic to light a cigarette. The mere thought made her shudder and the actual deed took away everything that was alluring about smoking in the first place.
She needed a lighter. And she was looking forward to that silly cigarette—and maybe, just maybe, one more after it—but now she couldn't have it, and she really wanted it. Not to mention how much she needed it, especially after having to listen about a certain sixth year Hufflepuff and his gorgeous blue eyes which, Lily though, weren't that gorgeous at all. Leaning her head against the cool wall she almost missed the silent footsteps coming nearer. Suddenly alert, she stood up, shoving the Players' back inside the small purse and holding the wand tightly in her right hand as she moved backwards to hide from the entrance to the tower. The footsteps grew louder, she could feel her heart beat increasing as her palms began sweating, the vice like grip she had on her wand getting even tighter. Whoever it was that was climbing towards the Tower should have been very near. The red haired girl flinched when the familiar click sounded and the door opened, her eyes glued to the darkness behind them. For a few moments she stared at the emptiness there and then the door closed. The fear she had been feeling only seconds ago was replaced by utter terror as she could still hear the silent shuffling of somebody's feet in the tower. Her eyes moved frantically around as she pressed her back to the wall, her wand holding hand going slightly numb. After rapidly analysing the situation she was in, Lily decided against calling out for the person (or whatever it was) to show themselves (oritself) realizing that her voice would most likely crack. It seemed like eons had passed since she had been sitting on the very floor of the Astronomy Tower ready to smoke a cigarette and walk back to her dormitory. Silently, Lily Evans regretted ever deciding to leave the Gryffindor Tower at all. Despite being a talented witch and a Gryffindor at that—and Gryffindors were brave, she was supposed to be brave!—Lily was, after all, just a fourteen year old girl who found herself trapped with an invisible entity at one o'clock in the morning at the top of the Astronomy Tower.
Suddenly she could hear herself taking quick, short breaths as everything else fell silent. Then the footsteps sounded again, this time loud and clear and, Lily realized in complete mortifying horror, approaching her much too quickly for her own liking. Forgetting about the curfew and not being caught, she was ready to scream for help when a hand appeared and clamped over her mouth. She raised her eyebrows, eyes widening in shock, staring at the floating hand keeping her from screaming. The following second the hand was joined by the rest of the body, quite conveniently attached to the hand attached to her face. In front of Lily Evans stood James Potter, his hand still pressed against her lips and a small grin on his face. Her stomach dropped, her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed.
Of all the people…
"Hullo, Evans, fancy seeing you here," he whispered, a smirk on his lips. "Are you okay? You won't scream?"
With her eyes still narrowed she took in his face, a few inches too close to hers, and promptly rolled her eyes.
"I'm sorry, I don't understand?" James played dumb. "Does rolling your eyes mean 'yes, James, I'll scream' or 'no, James, I won't'… or does it mean something completely else screaming related? So, let me repeat: you won't scream, right?"
This time around Lily nodded vigorously, James' hand moving along before he removed it, giving her a chance to speak, "What are you doing here?!"
"No need to be hostile. I'm here for a smoke," he shrugged nonchalantly and reached in his pocket pulling out a pack of cigarettes.
Lily nodded curtly, ready to open her mouth and let out a stream of witty remarks and a few classy insults when James' sentence registered in her brain. He was here for a smoke. A smoke!There he was, standing right in front of her, Lily – currently known as the owner of a faulty-of-no-use lighter, and he was ready to embark on some smoking. She bit her lower lip hard contemplating for a few moments before grinning sheepishly, "You don't happen to have a lighter on you, Potter?"
"A lighter?"
She rolled her eyes, "Yes. Yes, a lighter. That funny little thing you use to light a cigarette."
"What'd you need a lighter for, Evans? Setting the Tower on fire?" James chuckled, "I reckon it might ruin your chances of becoming a prefect."
"I was not going to set fire to—what do you even care if I become a prefect or not?" She challenged walking away from him towards the middle of the room.
James grinned at her and leaned against the wall, "I don't care, I really don't. But," he paused, placing a cigarette between his lips and, reaching his hand to retrieve a lighter from his pocket, simultaneously causing Lily to roll her eyes yet again, and lighting the thin white stick, "what I am curious about is… what are you—of all the people I thought I might encounter—doing here? Of all the places you could be, Evans." Smirking at her he continued, "And you actually should be in your bed. I don't suppose you're meeting someone?" He wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively.
Instead of responding she rolled her eyes at him before reaching in her purse and pulling out the half full pack of Players', taking a cig and holding her hand out expectantly, She nodded her head in the direction of the lighter. The dark haired boy seemed baffled at first but his face quickly formed into a mask of mischief as he approached her and, instead of handing her his lighter, lit the cigarette for her.
They accidentally met up again on a Sunday, two weeks after. It was James who needed a lighter then.
It was an ordinary Sunday. One perfectly ordinary Sunday, month of May, 1977. Except, it wasn't ordinary at all and it wasn't a good day either. If one asked James Potter, or pehaps any other Gryffindor, it was a rotten, rotten day. That very morning the last Quidditch match had been played between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Lasting too long and exhausting both sides, until one of the Seekers managed to clutch his fingers around the elusive Golden Snitch. Gryffindor team had been in the lead from the very beginning of the match, but by the end of the game they had been a weak 140 points ahead of Ravenclaw. Weak because anyone who knew anything about Quidditch was aware that 140 points were easily diminished if the opposing team's Seeker caught the Snitch. Even so, it had appeared that there had been no doubt in anybody's mind that the victory belonged to Gryffindor; some Ravenclaws even feeling defeated enough to leave the stands before the match had actually ended. However, in a curious turn of events the new Ravenclaw seeker—Ernest Johnson—brought his team victory by out flying the Gryffindor seeker and catching the golden snitch.
The Bloody-Rotten-Sodding-Horrid-No-Good-Very-Sad-Excuse-Of-A-Snitch, as Sirius Black dubbed it afterwards. Thus Ravenclaw won the Quidditch Cup and, on top of that, had gained a great advantage in House championship which would likely gain them the House Cup as well.
It had been a horrible day and James Potter wanted to be someplace quiet and deserted, away from everyone. He had to get away from the commotion. Perhaps he would have invited Sirius to come join him, because Remus was still away 'visiting his mother' (or was he supposed to be visiting his mother the next month and he merely had a flu now?) and Peter was trying to chat up a few third years. James' luck though had seemed to taken a turn for worse because Sirius had already disappeared and James didn't think his best mate wanted to be found yet. That's how James found himself sneaking up the stairs to his dormitory and hiding underneath the Invisibility Cloak. Sneaking out of the Common Room was children's play, and the walk towards the Astronomy Tower seemed short. Perhaps he had a certain spring in his step, aided by the fact that he hadn't had a smoke in a while, and his unrelenting desire to get away from people. The Map that he had stowed away in the back pocket of his pants, told him there were people occupying the Tower. The knowledge made him feel better, he would have to scare them off before he could have the Tower to himself.
James always found that scaring away snogging couples amused him to no end. Besides once those were gone, he would have the Tower to himself and his very own horrible Sunday. On the particular evening, when James reached the tower in a record time, he encountered a pair of third year Gyrffindors at the base of it. Scaring them off was simple, a murmured "boo" in the girl's right ear sent her screaming and demanding they, meaning her and her confused boyfriend, leave the staircase immediately. The pair of senior Slytherins at the very top proved to be trickier. They had been going at it pretty intensely before James started whistling around the Tower. The lanky Slytherin boy yelled a few times for James to "show his face" in a rather shaky voice, but the latter only chuckled before continuing with his agenda until the two had picked up their belongings and left in a haste. Once the tower was empty he took of the Cloak and locked the door chuckling to himself. It was somewhat humorous just how much ruining other people's fun lifted James Potter's spirits, his only regret being that there were no Ravenclaws to scare. Or perhaps throw off the top of the tower.
Maybe he'd just give them a light shove as they stood on the edge. Fly them towards the ground. Shove them off a cliff—tower—whatever.
Taking a few steps he walked out onto the small balcony overlooking the lake. The stone floor was warm enough to sit on and he took out the Map, placing it beside him. Lighting his cigarette, he observed the small dot with the scribbling Remus Lupin as it stood still in the Hospital Wing. He must have been sleeping. The dot that had Peter Pettigrew scribbled next to it was apparently getting cosy with one Dolores Smith in the farthest of the secluded corners of Gryffindor Common Room. James' eyes unconsciously roamed the entire map in search of Sirius' dot. After he was unable to spot him, even when he double checked all of the broom cupboards, he chuckled to himself. The two options stood before him: a) Sirius had gone off to Hogsmeade to chat up Rosmerta, or b) he had taken some bird to the Come and Go Room. With either of the two options equally likely, James knew he wouldn't be seeing his friend for a while. Reluctantly he stopped searching for Sirius, making peace with the fact that he would be spending the evening alone. It was at that very moment that his eyes landed on another dot, a particularly fast moving, extremely intriguing dot. The dot adjoined to Lily Evans was travelling away from the Gryffindor Tower at a rather brisk pace. His stomach twisted lightly. In a good way, the way your stomach twists when, despite it being an awful Sunday, you suddenly feel happier than before. The way his stomach would twist every time he saw her and knew that they had a shared secret – the Astronomy Tower. A smile playing on his lips, he followed her dot as it moved, realizing she was headed his way. Eyes glued to the Map, he wasted half of his cigarette, only tearing his gaze away when the Lily Evans dot had finally reached the locked door at the top of the Astronomy Tower. Grabbing the map, a cigarette between his lips, he got up and walked to the door unlocking them for her and meeting the back of her head.
"Oi, Evans," he whispered and she turned to face him. His breath caught on the way out, somewhere between his lungs and his parted lips because the girl looked stunning, the dim moonlight lightly dancing upon her face, a few free strands of dark red hair that broke loose as she turned around, framing her delicate features. "Don't leave so soon."
A scowl formed on her face as she pushed past him, knocking out the breath he had been holding. "Not you again."
"Fancy meeting you here, as well. And what on Earth do you mean, Evans? Again? It's been a while, you know. A month if I recall correctly. Such a shame, as well. I've missed you."
"I swear, Potter… just," she groaned, trying hard not to snap at him for she was not in the mood to be teased or to tease back, "I need a few minutes on my own, please."
"I'll keep quiet."
They sat on that small balcony. True to his word James kept quiet for as long as he could, which was approximately ten minutes. Even that was impressive for a sixteen year old boy. At first he started glancing towards her every few seconds, which Lily noticed. Then he started sighing, most likely out of boredom, and after the sighs kicked in James started impatiently tapping his foot. All of that had done nothing to calm the redhead down. In fact there had been a few good hexes floating through her thoughts that she had been ready to use when she remembered the reason behind her late night venture to the Astronomy Tower.
Cigarettes.
Hastily she started pulling out the contents of her purse until the small pile on the floor was joined by a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, a smile gracing Lily's lips. She was well aware of his burning gaze taking in each of her movements, but chose to ignore it simply lighting the cigarette between her lips. They didn't speak much more, but she did share her Butterbeer with him.
It was a strange thing they had, the Astronomy Tower and cigarettes, but what neither of the two was remotely ready to admit was that they liked it. In a strange sort of way, of course.
Summer had been very kind to Lily Evans.
That was the first thing Sirius told his friends upon spotting the red haired girl at the Platform 9 ¾ . James's neck craned and his eyes shifted quickly until they found the red locks (Had she curled her hair?) framing an all too familiar face, splayed with freckles. She was laughing at something Dorcas Meadowes had said and James couldn't keep himself from staring for a second, or two. His eyes roamed her whole form, she had grown a bit. Her legs seemed to go on forever, and her shirt did fit rather snugly, particularly around the chest area. And there was that small purse hanging innocently off her shoulder. The small purse that was much bigger on the inside, and most likely contained at least a dozen of packs of cigarettes at the very moment. With a soft smile playing on his lips James looked away and followed his friends, the three of them already moving towards the train.
They had been two weeks into their 6th year when James, Sirius, Remus and Peter decided to camp out in the courtyard during lunch time. Majority of the Hogwarts students made the same decision, among them Lily Evans, her magical purse and her friends. It was Peter who first noticed them when the three girls passed them and headed towards a tree not too far from theirs. All four of them observed the girls silently as Lily spread out the small blanket. Sirius whistled lightly chuckling to himself before adding, once again, that summer had treated her nicely indeed and how she had grown to be one of the fittest girls around. James agreed, not too enthusiastically though. The time for oblivious pining after Evans had passed more than a year ago. There was something else there instead of it now, though he wasn't sure what exactly. Their shared moments somehow remained a secret, together with the fact that he liked her more than he dared let on. For all he was concerned he would never admit that he thought she was brilliant. There was nothing wrong with being brilliant, and he couldn't hold that against the poor girl. Especially not when she looked so gorgeous in the dim moonlight on a Sunday evening with smoke leaving her lips quite enticingly. And her lips were a completely different story. He had never noticed it but they were the perfect size and the perfect shape, if such thing existed, and they fit her face just as perfectly. Some girls had full lips and, while Lily's were not as full as Mary MacDonald's, they were as pretty, if not prettier. Perhaps even the prettiest lips in the school, James thought, even though he would never call himself an expert on the fullness nor prettiness of girls' lips. There was just something about their shape and shade, which coincidentally complimented Lily's hair perfectly. Of course, James could stare at her long legs and the curve of her hips, and the way she was tying her hair up in a ponytail. He could watch her laugh, and admire her whole being with a slight tug around the general area of his chest, but James would never voice these thoughts because he was far too proud, and rejection and ego did not mix well.
He would simply continue sitting under the tree, a hand in his pocket holding the unopened pack of cigarettes. He would continue pretending to listen to what Peter was talking about, even though he wasn't paying attention at all. He hadn't been paying attention ever since Peter had pointed out the three girls. After that James was much too occupied by other things, things infinitely more interesting than anything his friends might have been saying. To an extent James understood that it was wrong to think that way, but he wasn't sure that anything could possibly be better than Lily Evans' long legs under the warm September sun, completely outstretched and crossed at the ankles as she lay on her stomach, laughing along with her best friends.
Perhaps the story Peter was telling had truly been more interesting. James Potter would never know, though. The story was retold that very evening, but he was once again not around to hear it, this time physically. He had spontaneously decided to go for a walk outside of the castle. Not exactly sure what had made him do it in the first place, he strode across the school grounds towards the lake listening to the hushed sound of his own footsteps and toying with the lighter in his pocket. The Cloak of Invisiblity had been left behind in his dormitory, stashed away in the spare pillow case and locked in the hidden compartment of his trunk, but he had taken the Map with him just to be safe. The lake was eerily still that evening and the air was humid but calm. It was another indicator that the school year had only just begun, no one was worrying about exams or homework and the unusual serenity was still thick in the air around the grounds. James loved those first few weeks of school, the slow beginning and retelling of summer adventures.
Sighing he lit a cigarette and lowered himself against the trunk of the huge willow observing its branches as they dipped into the calm surface of the lake ever so softly. He held the first drag in longer than necessary, then let it out slowly, watching it dissolve in the humid air around him. Despite it being the middle of September the weather was inexplicably summer-like and James wasn't yet sure if he liked it or not. He would have pondered about it for a while longer the sound of rocks being thrown into the still lake interrupted the calm silence in the air, as well as his train of thought.
A beat. A tug. A smile forming on his lips and his breath getting caught. Because there she was, he could easily spot her from the shadow of the willow. A red haired girl in the dim moonlight disrupting the surface of the lake. Taking the cigarette from his lips he stood up and walked towards her, a grin on his face.
"Evening, Evans," she looked at him, lowering her arm and dropping the rock she was holding to the ground.
"Potter." Lily's face gave off her surprise, though her voice stayed indifferent.
"Are you throwing rocks?" He questioned stupidly, taking a drag from his cigarette and gazing at the disrupted surface of the lake.
The girl rolled her eyes at him, a gesture she seemed to do often. With a shrug, she replied, "Maybe."
"It seemed like you were."
"What does it matter if I was?" She turned to face him completely and noticed he was staring at the sky.
Blowing out the smoke into the air above them he lowered his head, "I s'ppose it doesn't. I reckoned you'd care for a smoke," he grinned, offering her his virtually empty pack of cigarettes.
"I'm not going to take your last cig, Potter" she shook her head, the red tresses moving with such an ease that James had to admire it for a split second, "I don't do that."
His laughter rang through the silent air, "You don't do that? Do what? Accept generous offers? Smoke? … Because I know you smoke."
"I won't take your last cig, it's… I just don't do it. I don't take other people's last cigs, that's it."
He frowned, "But I'm offering."
"Doesn't matter," Lily replied turning away from him after catching herself staring at his lips as they parted to let the smoke out. Reprimanding herself mentally, she noted there were much better things to stare at, the lake for instance, or the moon. Eventually she decided on the lake, and summoned her own Players' from the tiny purse. Turning to face him, but fully intent on not staring, she smirked. "Do you reckon the Giant Squid is dead?"
"Excuse me?" James sputtered out just as he threw the cigarette bud to the ground.
"Is it dead?" Lily repeated, while pulling out a lighter from her purse. "Or is it asleep?"
The boy standing next to her chuckled, "Is that what you were doing? Waking the Squid? Bloody hell, Evans. Has anyone ever told you you're a bit mental?" She scoffed. "Why would anyone want to wake up the Giant Squid?"
She didn't respond right away, instead taking a long drag from her cigarette and blowing a few smoke rings, "I was bored." James nodded reaching for that last cigarette of his. As he held it between his lips he could hear her chuckle, "Aren't you glad I didn't take your last cigarette?"
It was funny how they kept running into each other in the strangest of moments.
She's standing in the middle of her dormitory, the small purse in her hands, surrounded by the mess she had made minutes ago. Her hair is slightly dishevelled and she's breathing raggedly.
Lily could have sworn that she had one more pack left, that there was no need to make a discreet detour to buy another carton of cigarettes. She had it all planned out and was certain that the carton she had bought before arriving to Hogwarts that year would last her at least until Easter, if not the whole year. Yet, she had found herself cigarette-less in the middle of March with no opportune moment to apparate secretly, replenish her stash, and come back without being caught. Lily Evans wasn't even addicted to cigarettes, she just enjoyed having a smoke here and there, and there was nothing wrong with liking cigarettes—it did not mean she was addicted. Besides, it was a completely private thing, not even her best friends knew, if they did they still pretended they didn't, for her own sake. Sure, Lily noticed how they would get suspicious every now and again, but she was firmly convinced that she had managed to keep it a secret.
A secret she loved, even though she had to share it with an unlikely cigarette mate of hers. A faint smile formed on her lips at the thought, and then it dawned on her. It was as simple as that, James Potter was her unlikely cigarette mate with a lighter. He was her cigarette mate, Lily grinned, with a lighter and cigarettes. The cigarette mate code, which she may or may not have made up right then and there, stated that when one's cigarette mate is in trouble—such as having run out of their precious Players' unexpectedly—then one should feel obligated to help out their cigarette mate in any way possible. The only way to help out a cigarette mate who would find themselves in such a pickle as Lily did was to provide them with a box of cigarettes. It was the only noble and honourable thing to do, she concluded suddenly relieved. All she had to do now was find her wonderful, charming, brilliant cigarette mate.
Giving the dormitory a once over and realizing that if she were to leave it in its current state it would undoubtedly raise questions, she decided it had to be put back in place. Suspicious, questioning dorm mates were not something Lily wanted to deal with, especially since she had other matters to tend to, matters such as the disturbing lack of cigarettes. With a flick of her wand she folded all of her shirts, stacking them one on top of the other on her bed. Then she levitated the books to her trunk and closed it. Glancing around the room she nodded satisfied at the way it looked, then rushed down the staircase. Upon bursting through the door and stumbling into the 6th year boys' dormitory she realized, only a little too late, that James would most definitely not be alone when she came to him for help. In fact it was more than likely that he would be with his friends. Which he was, Lily realized standing mortified in the doorway. The four boys who were playing Exploding Snap prior to her grand entrance stared at her bewildered, and she flushed glancing quickly at her secret, she reprimanded herself quietly when she remembered, cigarette mate before averting her gaze to Remus.
"Uh, hullo," she cleared her throat, "I just wanted to—it's silly really, you see—Remus, I can't seem to remember if we have the—uh—that prefect thing—uhm—"
James cut in, "Patrols?"
"Yes," she accepted his help, "… that. Do we have patrols tonight?"
Remus stared at her confused before replying, "Lily, we had them three days ago. Are you alright? Maybe you should go see Madame Pomfrey and have her check if everything is fine with you—did you hit your head?"
"I'm fine, Remus, I promise." She assured her fellow prefect who suddenly seemed extremely concerned about her health. "I'll leave you to it, then." Lily mumbled out before awkwardly leaving the dormitory, but not before she was able to steal a glance towards her cigarette mate. Then she all but stumbled down the stairs, headed back to her dormitory to grab a few books, and descended to the Common Room. She had reached the armchair in front of the fireplace quicker than ever before and took up doing her homework rather enthusiastically, all the while chewing on her lip impatiently and hoping to catch James Potter alone, preferably far away from his friends. As she found out later in the evening she needn't have worried at all. A small piece of crumpled parchment hit her just above her right eyebrow before falling onto the Charms textbook she had been reading seconds ago. It continued to gracefully roll towards her lap, where it ended its journey. She picked it up, unsure of what it was, and was met with a messy handwriting.
Broom cupboard down the corridor. 15 minutes. James
At first her brain screamed a loud 'no' protesting against any inclination she might have had to meet James, especially not in a broom cupboard. Everybody knew broom cupboards were full of spiders and snog germs. Besides she had no intention of snogging James, and frankly she was not quite sure where he got the preposterous idea. There was a stronger part of her brain, though, the one that was shouting out an extremely loud 'yes', for more than one reason. It was the part that kept her awake sometimes with unwanted, sentimental, very cliche thoughts about the boy in question. The part she blamed when she caught herself staring at the back of his head in Tranfiguration, and contemplating what a pretty back of a head it was. The unreasonable part of her brain that sometime, along the way decided that James messing up his hair wasn't irritating, but rather attractive. That part made her do inexplicable things and oftentimes sent the strangest impulses through her body. Her pulse would quicken, her cheeks were flush, her muscles would tingle. It was clearly the annoying part of her brain, Lily decided. But, most importantly it was the part that thought James Potter was aware of their cigarette mates bond, their cigarette camaraderie, and the obligations such camaraderie brought. She was partially certain that he had understood her plea for help, or perhaps it was more of a desperate cry rather than a mere plea, and the logical part of her brain agreed. Rationalizing the situation Lily scribbled down a neat yes before charming the crumpled ball of parchment to hit James in his left ear. She watched him as he flinched, then searched for the parchment unsuccessfully before summoning it. Observing him as he read her note, she couldn't help but feel only slightly giddy at the thought of meeting up with him in a broom cupboard. Once he smirked, pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket for a split second, Lily let out a breath of relief (or was it disappointment?) and turned back to her Charms homework. He left the common room only a few minutes later and she wondered if she was truly supposed to wait another ten minutes to join him.
Completely annoyed, she found that there was no way she was going to be able to finish her essay now because: a) It was ten o'clock and she was tired, b) there was a cigarette with her name on it in the broom cupboard a few feet away from the portrait of the Fat Lady, and to top it off c) the assignment wasn't due until next week, anyway. Hastily she collected her books, corked her ink bottle and rushed to her dormitory to put them away. After a minute she was out of the Gryffindor Tower and heading towards the meeting place in a hurry when someone—and she was quite positive that she knew who it was—grabbed her by her waist, clamped a hand over her mouth and then threw something over her head.
"Invisibility cloak," he whispered in her ear and she almost shivered, almost. "Let's go outside, the Astronomy Tower is apparently extremely busy tonight." Again, she nodded, blindly following his suggestions. They moved through the castle with ease, making sure they didn't make too much noise. Once they reached the oak door they had to wait for Filch to leave the Entrance Hall, which didn't take long in James' opinion, but Lily had been unyieldingly impatient. Despite James' reassurances that no one would see them in the dark even if they did remove it, Lily insisted they kept the Cloak on until they were only steps away from the willow rooted near the shore of the lake. There James finally pulled the Cloak off and tucked it away. He then proceeded to take hold of her wrist, pulling her into the shadows of the tree, where he all but sat her down on one of the protruding roots before pulling out a pack of cigarettes. Standing before her, he opened the pack and offered her a cigarette before taking one himself.
"What's the story, Lil?"
"Huh?" She glanced at him, extending her arm to grab hold of the lighter he had just used. His hand retracted, putting the lighter out of her reach and he grinned.
"I asked you what's the story. I thought you always had your cigs. I thought it was wrong to take another person's cigs." James chuckled before leaning closer and lighting her cigarette with a smirk.
"An unexpected turn of events," Lily replied, observing the way that the tip of her cigarette lit up as she inhaled the smoke. "And it's only wrong to take someone else's cig if it's the last one."
"Hmm," James mused. "I can accept that. What turn of events?"
"Miscalculation," she grinned at his frowning face. "I thought I had enough to cover the whole year, but I was wrong. Ended up smoking right through my secret stash," Lily elaborated with a small smile.
"Ah, and so you came to me."
"More or less." She confirmed bringing the cigarette back to her lips, eyes roaming his form as he leaned against the trunk of the willow. "I figured that cigarette mates should help their cigarette mates, even if they are merely secret cigarette mates."
He stared at her with a confused look on his face before mumbling out, "We're mates?"
"Cigarette mates," corrected Lily, "but I'm not that opposed to the prospect of mates concept either."
James held back a huge grin threatening to break out and instead winked at the redhead and offered her a very James Potter-like smirk. "Mates then, Evans. Proper ones, too."
Lily nodded, "I suppose I could do worse than being mates with you, Potter. You are useful," she lifted her cigarette pointedly. "And you're not as dim-witted as I thought you were. After all, you did manage to decipher my mad prefect patrol inquiries."
"I'm brilliant, I know."
With her mouth half way open to respond with a witty retort, Lily realized that he actually had all the rights to claim his brilliance. She had been denying this for too long but James Potter truly was brilliant. In a very different, somewhat annoying, and a very James Potter way.
They spent two hours sitting in the shadow of the willow tree, talking just about anything, until the air had gone too cold. She was leaning against the trunk of the willow, smoking her fourth cigarette, when the realization came that James was standing unnervingly close to her. Close enough so that she could spot the three tiny birthmarks forming a perfect triangle on his right cheek. Close enough for her to notice the scar on the left side of his upper lip, a reminder of the time he got hit in the face with a Bludger. They stood close enough for their breaths to mix, and for him to lightly close the gap leaning his forehead against hers. Her lungs were on fire, not because of the smoke trapped inside them. When he lifted his hand to cup her face it was cold against her jaw, and shivers ran down her spine, all the way from the spot where the cold fingertips touched the back of her neck to the tips of her toes. But his breath, his lips were warm against hers and she dropped the half smoked cigarette on the cold ground, her shaking hands tugging at his waist and pulling his body crashing towards hers.
The kiss lasted exactly twenty-two seconds, not that either of them was counting, and they never spoke of it because mates don't kiss.
It had been happening too often lately. Too often for her own liking and she was going to put an end to it. Even her friends were getting suspicious. And Lily thought she was losing her mind, she really did. It felt almost unnatural the way she blindly looked in his direction whenever she entered the Great Hall. It was annoying how she had to search every room to see if he was there, and that slight twinge of disappointment if he wasn't around wasn't any less irritating. Perhaps what bothered her most was the unnerving way that he seemed to be looking at her every single time she looked at him. Their eyes would meet and he'd smile, and she would smile in return. Everyone around them used to be rendered speechless by the exchanges between them, but their friends had gotten used to it by now. Or they simply learned to ignore it.
The worst part was the nagging voice telling her that she liked all of that. She liked looking at him and she liked when he would meet her eye because he must have been looking at her as well. That she maybe, hypothetically, perhaps, not surely liked him. She liked their late night meetings, which were now sometimes spent without smoking cigarettes. The ones where he admitted to her that he was fascinated with The Beatles and that Sirius thought he was being stupid, or the one where she ended up with her legs in his lap as he tried to reach for the Butterbeer bottle she had hidden behind her back, and the time he brought a radio up to the Tower and they tried to tune into a muggle station, failing at it ever since because the magic surrounding the castle was too disruptive for radio waves to be able to reach them.
It was because she liked all of it that she put an end to their late night rendezvous. At least she had attempted to. She had successfully made a fool of herself and simply told him they shouldn't meet every second evening, but rather tone it down to once a week because their friends were growing suspicious. When he asked why they couldn't just tell them they were smoking in the Tower, she came up with the most idiotic lie: how she liked having their time a secret, and that it made it more fun. Had she not mentioned how much she enjoyed those evenings James would have protested, but upon hearing her words he agreed without a second thought. Neither of the two were aware of it at the moment, but there wasn't much that they wouldn't agree to do for each other.
They had kept up the once a week deal for a month, which mean they had met only four times and four times wasn't enough for James, he realized on a Thursday morning during an exceptionally boring Potions class. It took him till the end of that same class to come up with a genius plan and an outstanding way to present his plan to Lily, who agreed to it although pretended to be reluctant about it. In the end she decided she wanted to see him more than just four times a month, but decided that was just slightly too personal to admit.
"Oi, Evans," James yelled across the hallway and her head turned swiftly in his direction. "Head meeting. Now." It was an exquisite, flawless plan built solely on the fact that they were Head Boy and Head Girl, and therefore had to have their Head meetings. Which they happened to be having very often because they wanted to do their jobs properly, if doing one's job meant smoking cigarettes in the prefect's lavatory.
With a fake scowl and a quick apology to her best friends Lily spun on her heel and walked towards him, making sure not to look too eager to join him in the meeting. They acted casual until rounding the corner after which they both shared a quick glance, grins spread on their faces as their pace quickened. Climbing up the two flights of stairs they reached the fourth floor, all but rushing towards the Prefect's bathroom. James was quicker to mumble out the password and they both stumbled inside, Lily locking the door behind them as James laughed.
"We're most likely the most industrious Head Girl and Boy this school has ever seen. Or at least they think we are," His laughter echoed against the marble in the bathroom. Lily joined in with her own laughter, reaching for the small purse while throwing herself on the sofa in the corner, "I don't know why we hadn't come up with this sooner, this is brilliant, James."
"Well," he landed next to her, smirking, "I am brilliant."
"Sod off," Lily chuckled lighting her cigarette and tossing the lighter at him.
"Watch the face, Lily." He warned while conjuring up an ashtray and charming it to levitate near them.
She stared at him for a few seconds, reminding herself not to be too obvious (albeit failing at it), before leaning her head against his shoulder and reaching for her small purse, "I have a little something for us."
Putting an arm around her and pulling her closer to him, he smirked. "What's it?"
"Wait and see," the red haired girl replied leaving the lit cigarette in the ashtray and digging through her purse, "ah, there it is." And then she pulled out a bottle of what seemed to be Ogden's Firewhiskey. Not only was it Ogden's Firewhiskey, it was one of the older, more exquisite brands of Ogden's.
"No," he breathed a few inches away from her ear and almost missed the way she shivered because he was too immersed in observing the bottle. "How?"
"Let's just say Rosmerta owed me a favour and I thought that we deserved a bit of an encouragement at the beginning of our Head Boy and Head Girl careers."
"Encouragement?" He was stunned. "This is not encouragement, this is a—a blackmail. I will feel morally obligated to be the greatest Head Boy this school has ever seen if I even taste this! Not even my parents have this at home on regular basis." He could feel Lily shake with silent chuckles as she reached for the bottle in his right hand.
"Would you relax, James?" She touched the tip of the bottle with her wand, easily uncorking it.
"I'm relaxed."
"You're tense."
"Am not," he defended, then sucked in a breath when her hand landed on the front of his shirt, blatantly feeling his tense abs.
"I'm sure you are."
"Sod off," he groaned but her hand remained in its new place. "You don't even know how much that costs."
Lily stared at the liquid in the bottle, holding it close to her face before smelling it, then she brought the bottle to her lips and tipped it. Her face contorted when she swallowed the Firewhiskey and felt the burn, her whole body shuddering at the taste. "I really don't care about the price," she beamed at him, wondering when exactly had it become completely usual for their faces to be mere inches away, "I got it for free." She tipped the bottle once again, shutting her eyes tightly as she gulped down more than she had a moment ago. "It's horrible."
James groaned at her lack of appreciation for the finer things in life. "Give me that," he grabbed the bottle from her hand and took a generous swig of the drink. "This is amazing." Lily rolled her eyes at his thrilled face. She reclaimed the bottle after she had finished her cigarette and willed herself to drink as much as she could at once, which wasn't much at all, still shuddering at the taste while James observed, chuckling next to her.
She placed the bottle on the floor before snuggling closer to him and carelessly playing with the fingers of his left hand. "Your hands are so big," she muttered flattening her palm against his in comparison, "look at this. My fingers barely reach to the first knuckle of your fingers."
"Mhm," he sighed, moving his fingers until they were positioned in the spaces between her fingers, "you have tiny hands, mine are normal sized." She opened her mouth to protest but found that the response had died on its way when he pushed his fingers completely in between hers, intertwining their hands. "You know, I have no idea what you did for Rosie—I mean, Rosmerta—but it must have been something absolutely genius for her to pay you with Ogden's finest. You're brill, you know that?" His eyes met hers, both of them sporting equally dopey grins.
She nodded, marvelling at the unfamiliar feeling of his thumb brushing against the back of her hand. "I am amazing, I know. You adore me." A confident smile graced her lips as she looked up at him, noticing the strange look he was giving her. "What's wrong?"
"Thinking." He breathed as she shifted next to him.
"About?"
"Cigarettes?" He offered, quite positive that she wouldn't believe him. But even if she had failed in believing his latest statement it reminded her of the lovely white sticks she enjoyed mixing with alcohol and Lily started leaning over him to reach for her box of Players' which she had placed on the wide armrest.
"What are you doing?" His hands landed on her hips, stopping her midway.
"Trying to reach my Players'?"
James laughed lightly, feeling her hair brush against his face. "Don't smoke, Lily. It's a nasty habit."
"I'm sure it is," she patted his chest, resting her hand there, "but I greatly enjoy mixing good Firewhiskey with cigarettes."
Lily watched as the dark haired boy nodded, biting his lip as if deeply in thought. When he finally spoke up there was a certain glint in his eye, "I see where you're coming from, but," he paused removing his hand from her hip and reaching to tuck away a few red strands behind her ear, "I've been thinking of some other things that go perfectly well with quality Firewhiskey. And I have a few suggestions." Each word carefully chosen, James let his hand fall back to her hip as his eyes bore into hers waiting for her reaction.
"Oh," her eyes widened.
"Yes." He smirked softly, though still unsure of what to expect.
"Well," the hand resting on his chest inched higher, "I suppose it would be… healthier?"
"Mhm." Her hand had just traveled past his collar bone, and his own hands moved lightly against her sides. He stopped at her waist leaning closer to her, but it was Lily who closed the final distance between them, having the upper hand of being virtually on top of him. Pulling his face gently upwards, closer to hers, she brought their lips together. Burying her right hand in his hair she trailed the other one down his chest to hold onto his waist, drawing him closer to her, their bodies flush against each other. Unsure of how long they had been kissing, but confident that it wasn't nearly long enough, Lily abruptly pulled away from James, their lips parting with a sound.
"What?" He protested.
"I'm going to quit smoking."
"What?!"
"I'm quitting smoking," the grin on her face was radiant.
James, whose hands were resting on her hips once again, frowned. "Why?"
"Because," she said, her voice contemplative, "I think I may have found a better way to spend time during these long Head meetings." A smirk formed on her face as she stared at him, unconsciously biting her lower lip. The smirk on James' face spread into a smile and then formed into a completely devilish grin as he leaned forward capturing her lips again.
There were things that were infinitely better than cigarettes.
A/N: Revised. Hope you like.
