Author's Note:
Firstly, I'm not JKR which is the biggest disclaimer. It is purely a fan-made dabbling in a great world. I know the fanfic community is not as active as it once was but I hope those who remain here enjoy my work and I can add to the longevity of the fandom with this tiny contribution. I would love any reviews or PMs. I would greatly appreciate no flames.
That being said, I would like to forewarn you regarding the contents of this story. They contain divisive political viewpoints and it is a muggle AU. This story takes place in modern-day America, with the plot warped to fit the current climate surrounding topics like racism, immigration, and sexuality. Please do not flame me. At any point, if this story feels too liberal, feel free to exit. I am not holding you hostage and forcing you to swallow my opinions.
Lastly, I give huge credit to Cgner, a fellow author whom has given me permission to use Algernon, the greatest cat in the world. His/her story "Textbook, Time Scarves, and Tea" was the inspiration that led me back into writing a story. I've never written a Jily pairing, but I hope I can do it well. I've got no Beta, so please excuse any minor errors. Also, this is intended to be a long multichapter, but definitely not slow-burn, fanfic.
Cheers!
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The streets were drowned in brown-tinged, brackish water which pooled at the steep dip in-front of the doorway to her apartment. Lily ducked under the overhead canopy which smelled musky from age. Where were her keys? She patted her pockets and dug through the clutter in her purse. An abyss, filled with old candy wrappers, pens, and loose ibuprofen from a bottle that somehow uncapped itself. With a huff, she slung her backpack over her arm, and balanced it precariously on one knee. Her bracelet snagged on the wire bindings of her 5-subject notebook.
"Shit," she muttered, "where are my damn keys? I swear, this day cannot get any worse." A mechanical pencil jabbed her hand. Well, she shouldn't have tempted fate. It could get worse, she thought as she inspected the freshly bleeding cut on her hand. It was small, like a pinprick. She paid it no mind. Her glasses were falling down her face, so she pushed it up with her shoulder, still balancing her purse and backpack awkwardly. The rain pelted down around her, misting her clothing and pasting already frizzy red hair to her face. She could barely see, her glasses too splattered with droplets and fogged from her harsh breathing against the cold air. She swore loudly before mashing her frozen fingers against the intercom buttons above the keyhole.
"Yello'?" came the cheery, very male voice. She glared at the dusty grates on the intercom speaker. How dare he be so happy on a day so miserable? She zipped her bags and stuffed it back the right way round.
"…Yessss?" he inquired in a sing-song voice. Lily huffed grumpily, knowing her mortal enemy was eying her up from his security camera.
"Potter." She hissed, waspishly wiping her face from sopping wet strands that got in her mouth.
"Lovely day isn't it?" His voice was garbled slightly from the dated intercom mechanics. A loud booming thunderclap that made her visibly flinch.
"Please. I forgot my keys." She licked her wet lips, feeling both fatigued and frustrated that she had to swallow her pride. "I'm cold." She sneezed loudly, spraying saliva against the intercom and buttons. Her left hand, the uninjured hand, wiped her nose before quickly trying to clean the camera. To her pure embarrassment, it smeared her germs and mucus. Her ears were hot against the biting frost of the November winter, and she was sure her blush made her look like a rabid tomato. A loud buzzer went off and she quickly scrambled to catch the door while it hummed, letting her know that he had taken mercy on her.
She tripped on the doorway, unable to see where the sidewalk met the elevated steps from how flooded the area was. She heard a muffled laugh coming from the intercom as she raced into the lobby. Stupid Potter enjoying her misfortune. Stupid melodious laugh, no wonder the devil was once an angel.
Lily plodded through the lobby, making squelching noises as she passed Potter's door, as loud as possible to hopefully shame him. He could have taken pity sooner, that arrogant sod. She sneezed again, as she sat down on her welcome mat. She'd have to wait until Severus got off work in a couple hours. Maybe she could dry off by then and start one of her readings for class, since she was close enough to pick up her Wifi signal. It was rather weak, she thought as she waved her phone in the air. Her fingers were so cold and moist that she couldn't place the passcode on the phone screen. What a day. Maybe she could curl up and take a nap. She let her head fall backwards onto the door with a loud thump, feeling like crying. Her throat was itching badly causing her to cough a loud, terrible sound.
"Gods, are you that pathetic? Making all this noise for attention?" Potter was leaning on his doorway, looking exquisitely tall and lanky today. Her glasses were smudged so she took them off to squint up at him. She could make out his dark, messy hair and some grey sweatpants, and some sort of green shirt with a blurry logo. She looked away, not particularly enjoying the position of being eye-to-eye with his crotch. He had very long toes. Huh, she thought, having never seen him barefooted before. He could probably play the flute with those finger-toes.
"Well, come on then. I'm not letting you lay around in the hallway like a vagabond." He walked over to her, crossing the narrow hall with only two long strides. Lily felt her nose itch and quickly lifted the collar of her shirt to sneeze away from him. She felt the spittle hit her chest and internally cringed, but her eyes were too focused on warily watching Potter. He held out his hand for her, looking down with a lopsided grin. She hated his beady little eyes, and those stupid wire-framed glasses that made him look like a mad scientist with that crazy hair. She shook her head and pointedly ignored his hand, glumly picking at her limp, moist laces. Lily heard him sigh deeply as he bent down to her level. She stared into his hazel, not necessarily beady or little, eyes which were framed by the darkest, prettiest eyelashes. She would never admit it, but she appreciated him invading her personal bubble because it meant she could see him clearly without her glasses.
"Hey, come dry off. You'll get sick like that." He was untying the shoelaces on her right foot now, after delicately untangling her clammy fingers from them.
"I'm already sick. Go away," Lily muttered, wiping her nose in the crook of her arm. He slid her sneaker off and tipped it upside down and watched a stream of water trickle out. He made a "tsk" noise with the back of his throat, a noise he made whenever he found her particularly annoying or stubborn. He peeled her patterned Garfield sock off the foot, leaving her toes painfully cold and exposed. His long fingers wrung the sock out, before repeating the same procedure for the other foot. She wiggled her toes, trying to bring feeling back to them. They were pale, turning a tinge blue, like the color of her periwinkle nail polish.
His hands radiated heat as he pressed his palms directly up against her foot bottoms. She hissed at the sudden shift in temperature and partly from pleasure, but he didn't need to know that, thank you very much. God, such large hands. His fingertips were so long they passed the tips of her toes. She curled her toes closer into his warm hands, enjoying the searing heat.
"You have really tiny feet," he murmured, in a voice that sounded sort of in awe. What a weird dude. Lily reached up to wring out her ponytail, adding to the puddle he created from her shoes. She let out a hollow cough, before tiredly picking up her glasses from the floor. Her damp sock did a terrible job cleaning the lenses, but she put them on regardless and stared at him blankly.
"It's cold out here," Potter grumbled looking down the empty hall. Wow, thanks captain obvious, Lily thought dully. Potter stood back up and scratched his chin to comically mime his pondering skills before suddenly lunging at her. Lily cried out angrily as he heaved her up by her armpits and dragged her flailing body across the thin hallway into his apartment.
He threw her on his couch. "You-you, I can't believe you fucking idiot, manhandling me and the nerve-" She had stopped fighting him once she was in his apartment because she realized he wasn't trying to molest her, and honestly, this was the first time she'd seen the inside and curiosity was stronger than her burning indignation.
"Oi, stay put. I'm gonna grab your junk." He strode to the door, again surprising her with how long his legs were. Like a spider. She was slightly impressed that he could lift her like a sack of potatoes, but also miffed, at his obvious disregard for personal boundaries. Lily laid flat on his couch, hoping to spitefully soak it with as much moisture as possible. Hopefully it'd smell like wet dog, which he very much deserved.
She looked around, taking in his large plasma screen mounted on the wall opposite to her. There was a deep cherry-stained wood coffee table with two wireless PlayStation controllers sitting atop some National Geographic magazines and a barely-eaten croissant was nestled in a wad of napkins next to a hand-empty cup of coffee. Lily felt self-conscious, wondering if she had interrupted Potter's morning, since she knew he never woke prior to noon. She didn't get a chance to look around more because Potter had already come waltzing in with a smug look on his face, with her purse and backpack dangling precariously on his shoulder.
"I left your shoes to dry. Hopefully Snivellus will trip on them and break his incredibly large schnoz." He grinned that same naughty grin that made her want to simultaneously slap him and jump his bones. "I never thought I'd see you here, like this…." He trailed off and eyed her suggestively with an expressive brow wiggle. She didn't bother replying, instead she leaned further into the soft cushions, hoping they would swallow her whole. She wondered what 'like this' even meant. She was sure that she had the whole en vogue, drowned sewer rat sort of visage. And the flu made her nose look like Rudolph.
She watched Potter sit on the coffee table directly across from her, watching her like she was an escaped zoo animal. He let his eyes wander down to her damp clothing, probably enjoying the way it clung to her. Abruptly, he got up and left the room. Lily craned her neck as her eyes followed him, lingering on the way the sweatpants hung low on his backside.
She took the time to analyze her surroundings better. She took in the large framed photos of an elderly couple hugging, artistic posters of motorbikes, a large monochromatic close-up of a flower of some sort, and a group shot of Potter's graduation with his three friends also in full NYU regalia. There were floating shelves with weird trinkets like a fake plant, a few dusty geography books, vintage toy cars, and an oversized metal globe. It was definitely a man's apartment. To her right, was the room Potter disappeared to. Given her own apartment's layout, that must be the main bedroom and the doorway beside it would be the spare bedroom, which was probably his brother, Sirius' room. That's the one Severus had given Lily, when he offered for them to be roommates to survive the high cost of living in Manhattan. To her left, was the entryway to the kitchen area. Lily's own kitchen was a dirty old slate color, with dingy second-hand appliances they purchased from Craigslist and Facebook. Potter's kitchen reeked wealth with its polished black marble countertops and glossy metal furnishings. She felt a wave of envy hit her and quickly looked elsewhere. Wow, what she would have give to have a beautiful home like this. It was humble though, with the fridge covered in pictures of Potter's friends and family, with alphabet magnets haphazardly spelling the word 'bUttSnAcK". She smiled to herself. Emphasis on snack, she thought as her eyes lingered on the largest picture stuck to the fridge, of Potter sitting on Sirius' shoulders. Both boys were shirtless in a vibrant blue pool, playing chicken probably, and they looked to be in their late-teens. Potter had bright yellow arm floaties on, flailing his arms in the air and causing his hands to be captured in the photo as a colorless blur. Lily felt a bubble of giddiness in her chest, as his wide smile seemed specifically for her. She bit her lip nervously, feeling like she was intruding on his memories.
Potter's home was practical. The curtains were a dark linen to keep light out, the shelves were minimally cluttered, and his kitchen spotless without gloating. Lily sat upright on his overly-comfortable couch to awkwardly toe at the fluffy brown carpet that sat under the coffee table. She turned back to peek at the delicious kitchen, hoping to crush her jealousy. They had turned the countertops into an eating space, using vinyl barstools that looked futuristic with their shiny chrome backs. She supposed he had great style, if he didn't pay someone to decorate it for him. Severus and her eating area was a salvaged table they found on the curb, with a broken leg propped up with Severus' old textbooks. They hid the chipped wood by throwing a thrifted Batman quilt over it as a makeshift table cloth. Honestly, neither of them were picky and it served its purpose. No shame in that, right?
But Lily felt a knot in her stomach, looking back at the large plasma screen mounted in-front of her. Rich, handsome, funny, what a catch. Her uneasiness returned, as the feeling of how incompatible they were became more tangible as she was bombarded with the personality and status his home radiated. She got up to leave, quietly tip-toeing to grab her stuff at the door. She knew the floors in this building creaked something awful, especially in the wintertime. She slowly went to unlock the door, hoping it wouldn't make the loud snapping noise hers would.
*CCLLLLLLKK*
Lily's entire body froze, but she continued to turn the heavy bolted lock, calling upon the gods to embue her with the stealth of a thousand ninjas.
"Where are you going?" She swiveled around, her bones protesting from exhaustion and misuse, to stare at him wide-eyed and as innocently as possible. Potter had a pile of clothes folded in his hands and was looking at her with furrowed brows.
"Hi….I was…just…..um….heading out?," she murmured out like a question. He frowned at her, running a free hand through his messy black hair. Lily licked her chapped lips and turned the doorknob, not worrying about noise since she'd already blown her cover. "Thanks for….warmth." A forceful sneeze left her before she could cover her face, causing her to whack the back of her head against the door. He visibly winced as he watched her crankily rub against her knotted ponytail to dull the throb. See, cute guys were always causing her misfortune, Lily groused as she turned back to try escaping.
He walked over to her, again in only a few strides and took her hand off the doorknob. It was hot like a radiator and she found herself pressing her hand into his as surreptitiously as possible. "Lily, it's only 2:30. I know that jerk doesn't come home from work 'til like…." His voice trailed away as he grew preoccupied with curling his fingers around hers, having no pretenses for the handholding now. Her left hand felt resentful of the right, for it was nestled in a hot heaven and leftie was clenching her soggy, frozen belongings. He was staring at her lips as she opened her mouth to talk. They were probably crusty or bleeding, from her constant gnawing.
"Six. Sometimes later…" Lily finished the sentence for him. He was so close to her, she could feel his body heat. So tall she had to look up to him, at least a whole head taller than her, and it made her toes want to secretly curl. He pushed the bundle of clothes between them, his fingers hesitant to let go of her own. She was sorely tempted to grab his hand back, when it did leave, but he reached up to push his own glasses up his nose. God, why does he get to look like a male model and be rich too? And now he was acting like he cared about her health.
Lily grumbled out a thank you, trying to be mature.
"You can get changed in my room," he motioned to the door she correctly guessed was his, "I'll throw your stuff in the dryer." She wanted to swoon if her cranky, sickly self could let her. Instead, she nodded at him and scampered into his bedroom, firmly shutting the door behind her. She licked her chapped lips, feeling her heart thrum with excitement. She'd been quietly pining for Potter for ages now, and this weird sexual tension thing was going to kill her.
She inhaled deeply, almost tasting his scent on the air. It was woodsy and cinnamon-tinted, and it reminded her of the Horchata her mama makes. Welcoming and warm, like his bedroom. The walls were a caramel brown, with the same masculine mocha wall shelves as outside. A cherry-stained chest of drawers was in the far corner next to a large standing mirror, which she found slightly vain for a man's room. A potted fern, probably fake, was near the window, sitting in a wicker basket pot.
He had a large abstract painting above his bed, the same bed which her eyes lingered on longest, lingered on last…like unwrapping the best present, leaving the biggest for last. The leather headboard made her heart stutter, as she imagined herself pinned to it. The pillows were not opulent but practical, as she had come to expect, and the comforter was black velvet.
She felt herself get goosebumps, which she blamed on the room being drafty. She quickly peeled her wet clothes off, feeling vulnerable and aroused as she stood in her nemesis' bedroom. Too bad he was a total asshole, she thought as she walked towards the large standing mirror. She took off her bra and underwear as well since they were also damp. She stood completely naked, her dusky pink nipples rock hard and aware. Her hands ran over the large dresser, feeling the cool polished wood glide under her fingertips. She breathed in his scent, feeling like a certified creep but also thoroughly stimulated. She looked over to his bed, envisioning how the velvet would kiss her skin as she writhed in the sheets. Lily bit her lip, feeling too awakened to feel ashamed. She leaned over and ran her fingertips on the comforter. His bundle of clothes were placed on the bed and she sat down. Gods, this is torture, she thought dizzily, with a deep gulp of air to invade her senses with his pheromones.
She laid back in a plop, feeling a slight bounce as her head ricocheted softly on the bed. Why did he own such comfortable furniture, she thought in a daze, running her arms along the velvet like she was swimming. It felt like she was being tickled and caressed at the same time, and though odd, she enjoyed it immensely. She felt something brush her leg, but dismissed it, thinking it was the sheets being ruffled due to her odd shimmying on the bed. Lily felt drunk from stimulus.
Where can I buy sheets like this? Can it come with a free bottle of Eau de Potter? She'd gladly drown in his scent if she could. She'd buy a whole month's rent worth of it, if they sold it. But then again, Mister High and Mighty would probably be too expensive for her pauper self. She huffed a sigh, going back to lazy backstrokes on his dark velvety bedspread. Her nipples were painfully pointed at the ceiling, she noted wryly. Something brushed against her leg again, aggressive and purposefully this time, and she bolted upright with a scream. A rat!
She scrambled backwards onto the bed, pulling her feet as far away from the ground as possible. Her chest heaving, she tried to catch her bearings. The bedroom door swung open and Potter stood brandishing a spatula like a madman.
"What?! What?!" he hollered, looking around madly, before doing a double-take and staring openmouthed at her naked body. Lily stared back, her violent panting causing her to have a coughing fit. He backed out the door, never taking his wide eyes off her. Never even blinking. The door shut with a deafening thud. The sound echoed in her skull, ominously, as she tried to grapple with calming the painful pounding of her heart ravaging her chest.
Lily's face was blood red by the time she comprehended what just happened. She wailed a quiet "ohmygod" with her head in her hands, forgetting the reason she had a near heart attack. She covered herself into a lumpy ball with his stupid velvet bedsheets, sitting eerily still. Eventually, she turned it into a makeshift dress when she grew enough courage to peer cautiously over the bed's edge.
Two large green eyes stared back at her. The most hideous, mushed-face, orange beast stared at her from the floor, carelessly licking its paw as if to mock her dramatics. Her worst moment caused by a overgrown furball.
She took a shuddering breath before pointing at the cat, "You. I hate you, cat."