A/N: Hello! If you've read the summary - yes, these are my pathetic attempts at Jily Secret Santa.
Disclaimer: Whole song and dance - JKR owns, I own nothing, and even if I did I wouldn't know what to do and I don't think the series would ever get finished because I hate everything I write.
Curling up with someone was usually done by two people in love, so in that sense, seeing James and Lily intertwined together on the Gryffindor couches, talking softly and letting the blazing fire in the hearth warm them wasn't strange. The fact the two wouldn't admit to each other all they really wanted to do was be able to do this without strange looks, to kiss them whilst they were in the middle of saying something just because they could, to run fingers through hair and trace patterns on backs just because physical closeness was what both of them craved, was strange.
"Would you rather… eat a Flobberworm or… have one as a tongue?" James asked after a while.
He was rather enjoying Lily's seat on him, her head on his chest and legs over his own. Not that he could tell her that, of course. Nor the fact he thought she looked positively radiant in the firelight, the way her skin seemed to glow a faint gold where the light hit it, nor the fact her hair was sending him into a frenzy, with its soft melon scent and the way in fell about her face and brushed his sides when she moved.
"Since when are we playing that?" Lily asked, a small smile on her lips. "And eat one. I ate a worm once, on a dare. It can't be much different."
She was rather enjoying having James's arms around her, holding her waist as she curled into him, the other varying between holding her hand, pushing up his glasses or pushing his hair back distractedly. She wished he wouldn't, for all she really wanted to do was push her own fingers through his silky mop, and having him do it right in front of her seemed unfair, like the Fates were teasing her with the fact she couldn't. On more occasion than one she had to clasp her hands together just to stop them from reaching up to do just that.
"That's disgusting." James informed her, raising an eyebrow.
"So's your face," she said, even though she thought the complete opposite.
"Oh, how you wound me, Evans," he said, completely sarcastic. It was a phrase he used often in her presence.
"Hush. Would you rather… Walk in on McGonagall and Filch, or… walk in on Sirius and Marlene?"
"Wow, Lils. I ask about Flobberworms and you give me that?" he shook his head slightly, and then went on to answer her question. "Considering I've already had the misfortune of walking in on the latter… Actually, I'd just walk in on them. You couldn't pay me to see Filch and Minnie going at it."
"But you would happily see my best friend and your own going at it?"
"Not happily, but it would be less scarring than seeing my Professor."
"True," she agreed.
"Okay… Never move again, or never sit still again?"
"You're boring. Ask more fun and partly scarring questions. And never move again. I don't think I'd mind. Your lap is rather comfy." To make her point, she curled up even more, bringing herself closer to him.
"Nice to know all you use me for is a pillow."
"Oh, you've always been a pillow. And a good person to copy Transfiguration from. That's all I keep you around for, really."
"Again with the wounding, Evans."
She only rolled her eyes and poked his face. She was rather articulate in what she really wanted to say, as you can see.
"Kids or no kids?" she asked after a moment.
"Are you insinuating something?"
"In your dreams, perhaps."
"You do frequent them, I must say. And kids. Loads. We could make our own Quidditch team. Little Potter United. Good, huh?"
"Giving birth is a tough business, Potter. I'm not having seven kids."
"Just picture of it though – we have a ginger girl with my eyes, and a boy with yours and my hair, and the girl is like me, all awesome, and the boy is like you, all smart, and we have that one kid who has reddy-brown hair and a mix, not quite green, not quite brown eyes, and both epic and smart, and all the kids are ridiculously popular and funny and charming and everyone loves them – Evans, we have to have kids. It's for the good of the world."
"What about the other five? You only described three. And what would we call them, pray tell?"
"Okay, the girl is born first, and we call her… Gracie. Gracie Potter. The boy with your eyes and my hair is called… Louis. Yeah, Louis. The not quite ginger, not quite brown boy is called Robert. And we have another girl, with your eyes, my hair and wears glasses, and she's called Samantha, Sam for short… And then there's another boy, brightest ginger in the entire world, wears glasses and is tanned, so he looks like a walking traffic cone, but it's okay because he's so slick and cool and all the girls want him, and fall around whenever he's near, and his name's… Trent. That seems like a cool-guy name, right? Then we have Ashleigh and Brittany, who've got brown hair, green eyes, pale skin – they're twins, and all of them are marvelous Quidditch players of course, because yours truly is their father, and they are all top of the class, because you are their mother."
She stared at him for a moment, and honestly, she could picture it. They'd be older, and James would have acquired a few wrinkles on his brow, and her roots would be graying, but he'd swear he didn't care, say that she was still beautiful no matter what color her hair was.
Their many kids would run around their house, which was decidedly large, due to the mass amount of people occupying it.
Sirius would vary between living with them and on his own, and they'd have the biggest garden ever, partly for Remus and partly for the Quidditch pitch they'd have to build for the supposedly obsessed children (and James, of course, but he counted as a child, she figured.)
She had been staring at him for a while, until James broke the silence with a "What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking Gracie's going to be a jail breaker, work for Gringotts. I can see that. And she'll meet someone abroad. He'll be a lovely bloke with tattoos and scars. She'll need someone like that, I think. Someone to match her recklessness. And Louis will work for Flourish and Blotts, and after a long day's work, he'll go to Florean's, partly for the ice cream, partly because he's a little bit in love with the girl behind the counter. She'll be blonde, and a bit quiet, like him, but funny too. Robert will be… I think he'll go on to play Quidditch. He'll play for Puddlemere; no… he'll start off at Puddlemere, but move to the Canons, because he's that good. He'll fall for some Muggle model that I'm not too fond of, because she keeps flirting with you, but she's in love with Rob so it's okay. Sam's going to go into law, she'll work in both the Muggle world and Wizarding. She'll be the best lawyer ever. She'll meet someone who works in her branch and have two kids. He'll give up work, because she wears the pants in the relationship. Trent – do we have to call him that? Trent Potter… doesn't have the right ring to it. Dylan sounds nice. I like that name. Okay, we're calling him Dylan. He will be a model for Witch Weekly. He won't settle down, I don't think. But I won't mind, because he still visits us and talks about his new girlfriend of the week, and while I'll chide him, I'll secretly be laughing. He'll remind us of Sirius – he'll be like Sirius's sidekick, actually. Oh yeah, Sirius will vary between living with us and living alone. Remus is going to come round every full moon; we'll have a special place in our garden for him – the garden's going to be huge. So is the house, but we'll get around to that later. Then Ashleigh and Brittany… Ashleigh will be an Auror. She sounds all girly and giggly, but that's her talent. She uses her womanly wiles to succeed in missions. She can kick some serious ass. And Brittany will work for the International Magical Co-operation; she'll speak fluent English, French, German, Spanish and Chinese, and will be Head of the Department because, like you said, she's our kid. They'll find twins, and marry, and have twins of their own."
"We could get a house in Godric's Hollow," he suggested. "They have some really nice houses there. Big, family houses with massive gardens. And it's a nice area. They can grow up with all the other Wizarding folk's kids, go to Hogwarts with them."
"Won't it be a bit expensive?"
"I don't' think Mum will mind us dipping into the vault. She'll just be pleased with all the grandkids she'll have to spoil."
"Oh, no. They are not becoming spoilt, little brats. They will be raised normally, not getting showered with gifts and praise and all that crap. They will do chores, and fight occasionally, and they will drive us up the wall. But we'll love them unconditionally, of course."
"You can't deny my Mum spoiling her grandkids, Lil."
"Well, then we can't spoil them. Spoiling rights go to Dorea. If they want a new broom, under no circumstances can you buy it for them. They'll have to earn it."
"How?"
"Make them… I don't know, clean out the basement or something. Without magic."
"That's just cruel, Evans."
"I used to do it all the time!"
"Is that why you're a cruel person now?"
"Watch it. That's your imaginary wife you're talking to."
"Oh, so we get married, do we?"
"Of course. It was a lovely affair. I looked stunning, and by the first dance everyone was in floods of tears. Do you honestly think I'd have all those kids with you and not have some way of keeping you around?"
"Lily, don't be ridiculous. There is no way I'd ever leave once I had you. Not even for a million, zillion Galleons. Not even if I had a wand to my neck. Never, ever."
Lily felt her eyes prick up at the sentiment. "Don't be overdramatic," she chided.
"Oh, I'm not. One hundred per cent serious."
"Really?"
"Honestly!"
"And why is it you would never leave?"
"Well, it's a bit obvious, isn't it?"
"It is?"
"You do anything for someone you love." He was surprised how smoothly and coolly the sentence came out, when his stomach was alive with butterflies and his brain felt slightly numb.
"You – you love me?" She had a hard time wrapping her head around that. He must have been talking about someone else – he didn't like her anymore…
"Well, Merlin, Lily!" He didn't know where all his unabashed confidence came from, but he was grateful for it.
Unable to stop it, a huge grin grew across her face, and all she could do was stare at him and laugh.
"Lil, you could be nicer with the let down. Laughing is just rude. I just –"
"Shh," she hushed, putting her finger to his lips. "Stop talking. You're ruining it."
Slightly muffled from Lily's finger pressed to his lips, he said, "Ruining what?"
"Shh! You're ruining the feeling you only read about in stories!"
"Lily, what the bloody hell are you –"
He didn't get to finish, for Lily had taken upon a new way to shut him up. That way being smashing her still-smiling lips to his, only causing her to laugh even more, while he froze, eyes wide.
"Well bloody hell! Kiss me, then!" she said between giggles.
Not being one to argue with her (for once), he did.
A/N: That fluffy enough?
MERRY CHRISTMAS, OR QUANZA, OR HANUKKAH, OR WHATEVER YOU CELEBRATE - AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR!
Lots of festive time lovin',
Ruby