for Crys (jollymoony on tumblr) as part of jily secret santa 2015 - happy christmas! hope you like your present :)
i.
The first time she tells him she loves him is completely by accident. They are sitting in the Head's Office, it is one o' clock in the morning and James is hunched over Lily's Transfiguration essay, putting lines through sentences and scribbling new ones in between her words.
She glances at him out of the corner of her eye every few seconds, finding it hard to focus on the task at hand when every action he makes is so endearing to her: the way he chews on his lip, pushes his glasses back up the bridge of his nose every time they slip down, runs a hand through his hair and knits his brows together when the letters on the page don't seem to make sense.
She looks back at the paper in front of her, frowning. This has become a routine for the two Heads – doing a homework swap in the early hours of the morning. The pressure to do well in their NEWTs is slowly mounting, even if they are still months away, and the homework load has risen considerably since sixth year. That combined with their Heads responsibilities and the war brewing just outside the castle walls has pushed both James and Lily almost to breaking point, and it is all they can do to try and help each other.
Now, Lily makes a face at James' almost illegible scrawl across his Potions write-up, and nudges him in the side.
Bemused, she speaks. "What does this say?"
He laughs quietly, "Sorry, I know my writing gets messier the further down the page you go." He leans over to squint at the parchment, eyes drooping with the effort. "Erm – beetle juice?"
"Lovely." She says, and picks up her ballpoint pen – Lily's preferred writing utensil – and crosses out the word, re-writing it over the top. He chuckles at her action and sticks his tongue out at her playfully.
"Not everyone is blessed with the art of beautiful calligraphy," Lily says in a mocking tone.
He stifles a laugh at her hair flick. "Ah, Evans. You minx, getting me to fix your essay when all you do is insult my chicken scratch." His eyes are alight behind his frames and she almost sinks into them, the swirling depths of chocolaty brown. Almost.
"Love you," she says flippantly, and his heart skips a beat. But he thinks she is joking, she thinks he's just a friend, and no more is said of the matter.
ii.
The second time is in the Three Broomsticks, third Hogsmeade visit of the year. She is sitting across from Remus, Sirius and Peter, James is on her left and Marlene on her right. Three of the boys are chatting happily with Marlene about the upcoming holiday season, whilst James pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration, directing a confused look to Lily.
"But seriously, what do you want for Christmas?"
Lily shuts her eyes briefly. "I told you," she says determinedly, eyelids flickering open, "You really don't have to get me anything."
"Lily."
"You don't! As it is I have no clue what on earth to get for you –"
"Ah, so that's what this is about?" He says, raising his eyebrows, "You don't know what to get me, so if I don't get you anything, you don't have to get me anything?"
He's absolutely right, of course. That is what Lily was thinking, as silly as it might seem. "Well…yes," she admits, colouring slightly under his triumphant smirk, "So if you would just tell me what to get you…?"
He makes an affronted face, "Nuh uh. You tell me first."
"But I don't know what I want!" Lily says, louder than she'd meant to. Marlene and the boys look over at them questioningly, now listening in on the conversation without either James or Lily noticing.
"Fine," he groans, "I'll get you a quill or something."
"Don't spend too much money," Lily says anxiously – she knows James' extravagant habits when it comes to shopping all too well.
"Okay, I'll get you a chocolate bar," he says teasingly, grinning.
She beams. "Make it white chocolate, yeah?"
He runs a hand through his hair, "Whatever you say, Evans."
"Love you," She speaks through a giggle, and she leans sideways to kiss him on the cheek.
It is almost as though the people at the table freeze for a moment – all except Lily, who is oblivious as ever. Sirius offers a toothy grin to the pair of them; Remus shakes his head, smiling. Peter gapes openly at Lily, as does Marlene, who feigns a coughing fit in order to avoid giggling.
James, meanwhile, has momentarily lost the ability to breathe, until Lily removes her lips from his face and shuffles back into her seat, smiling slightly. When he recovers, he does not say anything of it. The kiss is one second too long for it to be platonic, but one second too short to make James believe that she actually meant what she said.
iii.
The third time, there is solid proof. Actual hard copy proof that Lily Evans loves James Potter.
Dear Lily,
Happy Christmas! Just to let you know that I thoroughly enjoyed Petunia's wedding, even if the groom did look like a whale in his tuxedo.
Anyway, your present is attached to my owl's foot (if it fell off, my sticking charm has failed completely). Just so you know, it's completely safe. No Dungbombs or pranks of any sort, promise.
James
PS. Apologies if you can't read anything that I've written.
Dear James,
Happy Christmas! I feel like I should be angry with you for insulting my new brother-in-law (ugh) but I can't bring myself to do it, because every word you wrote was true.
Thank you thank you thank you for my present! The bracelet is beautiful, and I really hate you for buying it – I only got you a Puddlemere scarf and hat, for Merlin's sake. Although I have to admit that your gift is better than a bar of chocolate, and that's saying something.
All my love,
Lily
PS. I think your handwriting is improving – I could read most of the words in your letter!
But the letter says 'All my love', not 'I love you' or even just 'Love', and James has to assume that she is exaggerating. She does not love him with all her love.
(She does of course, but how is he to know?)
iv.
He honestly has no idea how they ended up here. One minute they were finishing the paperwork in the Head's Office, the next minute he's running back to Gryffindor Tower to grab the last bottle of Firewhiskey in the boys' stash to celebrate Lily's eighteenth birthday.
Now, James lies with his head on Lily's knees, looking up at her. Silently admiring her flushed cheeks and glowing eyes, with the heavy scent of alcohol surrounding them.
"I can see up your nose," he blurts out, and she makes an unattractive snorting sound, covering the bottom half of her face with her hands.
"You're such a charmer," she says, words muffled. He winks at her clumsily and she bursts into giggles. They are, of course, completely and utterly sloshed.
"Just for you, Lily." He replies in a low tone, smirking. Eventually, her giggles subside.
"James," she says, eyes closing, "I'm really sleepy."
"Mmm." He doesn't need to tell her that he's in the same state – he still hasn't moved from her legs.
"James," she pokes him in the shoulder and he grunts, "Can I lie down next to you?"
Blearily, he squints at her and nods, raising himself off her thighs so that she can rotate until she is parallel to him. In an alcohol induced flicker of courage, James puts his arm around her shoulders, and Lily nestles her head onto his upper arm, long waves of red hair spilling over his robes and tickling his neck.
They lie there for what seems like days. Lily listens to the sound of his breathing slowing down, in, out, in, out. When it seems steady, and she feels his chest rise and fall evenly, she reaches up to take off his glasses, placing them carefully above their heads.
Somehow, her hand strays back to his face, lingering above his cheek. Not for the first time, she has a strong urge to reach out and touch him, feel the curves of his face and his features. She wants to love him, she realises. After a second of hesitation, she sweeps a bit of unruly hair off his forehead. His nose twitches, and her lips quirk into a little smile.
Turning back to face the ceiling, Lily lets out a small puff of air, readjusting her position next to James.
The fourth time is sweet, it is unheard words on drunken lips. She thinks that as eighteenth birthdays go, hers has been pretty good.
"Love you, James," Lily murmurs. She knows he doesn't hear her, and she is glad – she's far too scared to say it to his lucid self. She knows he doesn't hear her, but that's okay, because this is the first time that she's understood the depth of her words, the truth of them: she does love him.
v.
Lily's always known she gives her love too easily. She wears her heart on her sleeve, really, but that doesn't mean she's going to stop any time soon. She loved Severus, she still loves Petunia.
But she's never been in love – that is, until now.
She doesn't really understand the difference, if she's honest. What can one little word change? Love, in love. It all sounds the same. She supposes it's like having a boyfriend, or a friend-who's-a-boy. You're in love with the first, you love the second.
But they've started to overlap for Lily, and she is definitely confused.
She knows she loves James Potter; that much is certain. How could she not, with his unfailing courage and loyalty, honesty, respect for his peers (most of them, at least) and family and friends. With his never-ending adoration for Quidditch, for Transfiguration, for the right side of the war.
She's not sure if he returns her feelings, though. Once upon a time he did fancy her, but they were hardly friends then, more immature. She was still caught up with Severus and he was an arse. But the point is that he did. But does he now?
So she asks him – subtly, of course – if he's ever been in love. It's a grey, dreary day, the rain has been on like a tap non-stop from eleven in the morning to now, when James and Lily are on rounds.
He starts at the question, almost coming to a complete halt in his steady pace alongside her. "What?"
"Have you ever been in love?" She repeats. "Like, not have you ever loved someone. Because I know you love Sirius and Remus and Peter, but in love?"
His eyebrows turn into an upwards arrow shape and lines are drawn around his mouth. "I, uh, dunno. Kind of. Maybe. No." He pauses, blinking. "Yes. Why the sudden interest?"
Lily shrugs, trying to come off as disinterested and nonchalant. "Just wondering."
"Oh."
They continue on their way, and soon enough, they've finished. They arrive back at Gryffindor Tower, bid each other goodnight, and turn to their respective staircases to the dorms.
As Lily thuds up the steps, she swears under her breath, kicking herself mentally. She should have told him right there – when else would she get a perfect opportunity like that? She falls into bed as fast as possible, without a word to her friends (they already know what she's thinking, and that only worries Lily more. Is it that obvious?).
Just before her eyes close, the words slip through her lips again, so quiet that they could have been a sigh or a gust of wind. It seems to echo through her ears as she succumbs to the darkness, and she imagines him saying it back.
"Love you."
+i.
Surprisingly, the next chance to tell him comes sooner than expected. They are back in their usual place – the Head's office – laughing as they blatantly ignore the papers in front of them.
"You, James Potter, are a terrible influence," she says between chuckles, eyes screwed up in hilarity.
His shoulders shake, and he attempts an offended tone. "Rubbish. You, Lily Evans, have rubbed off on me."
She calms down a bit, steeling herself. This is it. She's going to tell him. Right now. "It goes both ways, Potter."
Crap.
"Oh, back to last names, are we Evans?"
Their usual banter continues for a while – somehow, it never bores her – and her teasing comebacks roll off her tongue easily, where there is a block in her mind concerning other certain words. Then comes a lull in the conversation, and James notices.
"You alright, Lily?" He inquires, giving her a soft smile. She returns it weakly, and it falls from James' face. "Seriously, you okay?"
"I'm fine, James. Don't worry, just tired." She says, glancing at him through her lashes.
He holds his arms out to her like an affectionate child and she loves him even more for it: his kind smile, the warmth of his gestures. She leans into him like they are pieces of a puzzle, fitting together in spite of how his elbow pokes her waist and her shoulder keeps bumping his.
They stay wrapped up in each other. All she can do is see is the worn wool of his jumper, and smell the boyish scent of him and feel his heat radiate through to her.
"I love you, James."
She doesn't even mean to say it. But how could she not, when he is here for her, a comfort and a friend and a home?
And this time, she feels it all. The catch of his breath, the gulp in his throat and the skipping pulse. But he remains silent, sensing somehow that she is not finished.
"Like, I don't just love you." She stumbles now, trying to open up to him as much as possible. She has an urge to make him understand, tell him exactly what she means. "I'm in love with you."
A pause. Lily almost thinks she's gone too far, and her eyes widen as he pulls out of their embrace. She relaxes when he takes her hands in his. "What's the difference?" He asks, and suddenly, the answer is obvious. As if she'd known the whole time.
"Being in love isn't just loving you romantically," she explains. "It's loving all of you. Your quirks, the things that annoy me, the things that are cute. It's like…wanting to always be with you, because you make me feel like I'm on a high or something. And not just a drunk high," she rambles, "An infinite high, because you know that you're so in love with that person that everything they do makes you want to sing their praises from the Astronomy tower."
She cuts herself off abruptly, waiting for his reaction. Slowly, he raises an eyebrow. The action makes his glasses slip a little down his nose. "So…do you want to sing my praises from the Astronomy tower?"
Lily snorts, slapping his harm playfully. "No, you prat – it's just an example."
"Right."
"Okay."
He catches her eye then – she had been avoiding it up until now – and he gives her A Look, one of those ones that's unreadable but still manages to convey more words than anyone could vocally.
"Lily."
"Yes?"
"I love you too." The words don't tumble out of his mouth like they did with her. They don't slip and fall and stumble over to her; they rise from his lips with the air like the words are flying. They build up in her head and her heart and her soul. "I mean, I'm in love with you."
Slowly, a smile graces her features. "I guess you won't mind if I do this, then," and before he can even start to wonder what that means, she leans forward, adorned with an impish grin, and plants her laugh on his lips. It's the first of many shared kisses (and many shared declarations of love). Somehow, every time is even better than the last.
A/N: hope you liked it! please review :)
