"Lysander seemed awfully… reserved today. Well, more than usual," Lucy pondered from her spot, bundled in a mound of quilts and blankets she and Lily had piled in her room, pinning folds of fabric to every bit of furniture with a flick of their wands to create the sloppiest fort Lily had ever seen.
"He's always been a bit of a quiet bloke," James reasoned, but whatever ounce of thoughtfulness he had managed diminished with a mischievous grin. "I just never thought he'd snag the attention of my baby sister. I mean, can you imagine? You and Lysander?" he taunted, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Considering he is my boyfriend, yes, I can imagine it!" Lily seethed with a withering glance worthy of her mother's temper. James seemed to deflate under her stare, shrinking back into his pillow with flaming cheeks. From the corner, Molly giggled, slapping her hands to her mouth with glee. "Honestly, James, you've been nothing but a nuisance this whole night! Teasing Lysander and I every chance you get — I won't be surprised if he calls the whole thing off by tomorrow morning," she whined, pouting her lip.
"He wouldn't do that; Lysander is a nice boy," Dominique supplied calmly, patting Lily's shoulder. She raised an elegant brow and smiled. "A very nice boy, actually. Have you noticed the bum on that one? Seigneur, bon choix!" she said with an airy breath, fanning herself with a delicate hand, nails painted a shiny blue to match her eyes.
"Dominique!" Lily cried, cheeks burning with the heat of her embarrassment. James pretended to gag over the edge of his makeshift cot. Molly shrieked with laughter, pounding her feet on the floor before James reached over with a glint of trouble in his eyes, encouraged by his small audience, and his fingers danced over Molly's stomach with mischief.
"No! Not the tickle monster!" she gasped between a fit of laughter, flailing her arms to push James away. With a flop of black hair hanging over Molly, he was relentless until Lucy jumped up and tugged James by the arm until he tumbled over and Molly's squeals quieted.
"Remember last time, James? Molly's got the bladder of squirrel!" Lucy said, and Molly protested with a whine.
"It wasn't my fault! I told James to stop," she cried, crossing her stubby arms over her chest in annoyance. James only snickered under his breath and shrugged with all the innocence he could muster.
"Boys!" Lily muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes in exasperation. They were all a piece of work, something she had to tolerate, she thought. Well, except for Lysander, of course.
"Look at you! That dreamy smile — you're thinking of Lysander, aren't you?" Dominique asked with a teasing tone. Lily shook her head fervently - she was not some airhead floozy that could only think about some boy, even if it was Lysander.
"Do you—do you like him?" James asked quietly, stammering on the simple question.
"Of course I do," Lily said, scrunching her brow together. Leaning back with his hands behind his head, James seemed to accept her answer and relaxed.
"Do you love him?" Molly asked brightly with the enthusiasm of any child, a peel of giggles hanging off her words. She hid behind her blanket and burrowed deeper into her bundle, eyes crinkling with a silly mirth.
Before Lily could respond, Harry poked his head through the small space of the doorway. "Lights out, you lot," he said, flicking the switch and resting his hand on the doorknob. "Sweet dreams," he murmured, quietly closing the door behind them.
In the darkness of the room, Lily couldn't help the warm curl of her lips as she turned over.
"Yeah, I do."