Title: Our Flag Is White
Summary: In which Lily has rather… disturbing dreams, which affect her life in many, many ways. Not a song-fic.
Rating: T.. But really, I don't see anyone under well.. First year on this site - so technically I could get away with K plus.
A/N: For Greeny, for not letting pistachio shells stand in the way of seeing me. And ranting.
Disclaimer: I am forever thankful to JK. Rowling, for letting me run in this playground.
Once again, the title is not mine; it's a song from This Providence, Our Worlds Divorce. And I chose it, because there's one point in the song which seemed to reflect L+J so completely, I couldn't help it. But yeah, check it out, seeing as it wouldn't hurt. They are cool.
-.-;;
Lily sat, doodling on a fresh piece of parchment. Her seventeenth of the day. Doodle that is.
As in, one Lily Evans, was doodling on her seventeenth piece of fresh parchment.
Two days ago, Lily would have thought that was ridiculous. The waste of fine material! The precious resource! It didn't help that while Lily was well-fed, learnt from some of the best teachers in Europe and slept comfortably every night in a fresh-sheeted, four poster bed every night, her parents slaved away to pay for it all. Last she'd heard her mother had taken up a part-time job at the local fast food outlet, juggling her time between that and night shifts as a nurse. Yes, Lily was being scandalous in every single way.
It was only just the other night when---- No. Lily told herself rather adamantly. She was not to think about those vivid images.
Ah – but you readers must already know that the one and only Lily Evans was deeply attracted to the one and only, James Potter. And this writer would even dare to say, that Lily was insanely in love with him.
So one must realise that Lily was dreaming about this one special, special Head Boy. And here the writer would again like to add, every night, because it is the truth, (much to Lily's horror).
Silly Lily, she mustn't realise that when one dreams of a boy, quite frequently (this writer adds); one is undeniably attracted to them, perhaps even having an amount of non-platonic feeling for them.
Something, which although becomes increasingly clear to Lily's friends, has not been polite enough to do so, for Lily herself.
So there Lily was, doodling on some parchment. Not noticing the apple of her eye had entered the Common Room.
Of course, the stupid git had to walk right pat her on his way up to his room. And of course he had to say, "Hey Lily," jolting her out of her reverie, making her look down and notice the psychologically scarring words, in rapidly drying black ink:
Mrs. Lily Potter.
And because Lily could think about it, there was far too many "t's" on that particularly piece of parchment for her liking.
If Lily were to be completely truthful to us readers, than she would tell us that the merrily burning fire was somewhat due to her many balls of wasted resources.
Lily felt the eerie sense of someone watching her, and slowly, with dread, looked up to meet the hazel eyes of James Potter.
Looking at him straight in the eye, made Lily's knees go weak, but she still had enough mobile brain cells to figure out the predicament she'd be in if he saw the contents of her parchment. Slowly, she gathered up the parchment and lifted the piece up while saying; "James."
She can't help but notice that he is looking very scrumptious indeed while peering at her parchment.
Peering at her parchment.
Lily, whose mind is blank, couldn't even begin to wonder as to why he would do so and decided to peer at the piece as well.
To Lily's horror, her newly completed Transfiguration paper proudly bore the name Lily Potter on the top left hand corner.
The next word that left Lily's mouth was probably not suitable for the second years nearby.
Not to mention her fellow Head was standing in front of her with a small smile on his face.
"Well Evans," he broke the awkward silence – where Lily was frantically searching for other items of homework titled Lily Potter.
"I never knew you felt that way."
Lily looked up as he gave a last loping smile before sauntering off.
It was when James reached the bottom of the boys' staircase that Lily came to her senses.
Which is to say – everything clicked.
She realised what all of us had realised long ago.
She Lily Evans liked James Potter.
So maybe she hadn't realised everything yet. But things like that take time, and we readers will have to give her that.
The writer supposes we must applaud her because she (very stupidly, she thought later) called out his name.
"James."
He was halfway up the stairs, nearly out of sight, but he turned to look at her, a small smirk on his face.
"Yes," he paused, for effect, "Lily."
She had never noticed before but the way he said her name made her shiver, made her breath catch in her throat, made her heart flutter.
He must have stepped down, and she a few up, because before Lily realised, they were standing a step apart, their faces flushed for not apparent reason. She can't help but think that he looks rather endearing like that, but now is not the time to tell him. There will be other times, she supposes. She realises. She hopes.
She feels rather daring, looking at him like that, so she closes the gap with one step and she could practically hear his heart beating, her own thudding in her ears.
She looks up, and isn't at all surprised when their noses brush against each other, though she should be. She should be.
She can feel his breath on her lips and it makes her shiver, lick her lips, anticipate.
His hesitation is killing her and Lily is tired of being pursued. She wants him to snare her. To catch her. To take the lead once more.
She makes to leave, a small smile on her face, turning around before he grabbed her wrist.
"Lily, don't."
The tone of his voice makes her shiver. The command, the power, all James. God, she loved it. She loved it.
Yes, Lily decided as she looked into his eyes, she did love that about one James Potter.
And as he kissed her for the first time, on the fourth step leading to the boys' dormitory, she couldn't help but smile, almost in a way, triumphantly.
Oh, there would definitely be other times.
Finè.
-.-
Drop me a comment about this one-shot, through the form of a review. Ta.