Written as a present for a dear friend's birthday.
She couldn't sleep. It wasn't often that Lily Evans found herself so absolutely restless, but an upcoming History of Magic exam and an overwhelming feeling of under-preparedness could do that to a girl. Of course, she'd spent weeks poring over her books in the library, cramming in every bit of information possible until her brain felt numb but it didn't seem to help any.
She closed her book with a sigh, throwing it to the other end of her bed. There was no doubt in her mind that Wulfric the Wondrous could wait long enough for her to take a break. Dimming the light emanating from her wand, she climbed out of bed and onto the cold stone floor. The room was quiet, for the most part, with the exception of the light snoring coming from the bed next to Lily's. She kicked herself for not being able to sleep as heavily as her friend Mary MacDonald seemed to be able to.
It was strange how much longer the trek from her dorm room to the grounds seemed when she was alone at night. Everything around her creaked as she'd become used to after years of living at Hogwarts. No doubt it was the sound of the stairs moving on their own, or perhaps Peeves setting up another prank she'd surely hear about in the morning, maybe it was another student just as restless as her. All Lily could really hope is that it wasn't Filch and Mrs. Norris, out on their rounds. Serving a week's detention would do nothing to help her stress levels.
As she stepped out into the darkness, she was hit with a gust of cold air. Winter was long gone, but some days still felt like it hadn't. She pulled her house coat closer to her chest when something caught her eye.
Far off in the distance, she swore it must've been out on the Quidditch pitch, were tiny little flickering lights.
For a second, panic hit her—what if it was a fire? She remembered once, when she was ten, Tuney had left the stove on. By the time Lily and Severus had gotten home from the park to find her napping and the kitchen on fire. Their mother was less than pleased when she came home.
But of course, Lily's mind slowed when she realized that there would undoubtedly be some sort of charm or spell keeping the castle and the grounds safe from such things.
All the same, her attention was caught.
She made her way carefully to the pitch, both afraid of being caught and scared of falling flat on her face over whatever may have been lurking in the dark. Peeking out from underneath the bleachers, she was shocked to find none other than the notorious James Potter sitting alone, having a picnic in the centre of the pitch.
"Potter, what in Merlin's name are you doing?" She didn't much feel like talking to the prat, but her curiosity outweighed her general annoyance at his existence.
"Geez, Evans. You scared me. What's it look like I'm doing?"
"It looks like you're out here by yourself having a picnic. That's what it looks like. I'm pretty sure you've lost whatever marbles you might have once had."
"What are marbles?"
"They're like Gob- You know what? It doesn't even matter." She said, resting her face in her hands. "Why are you having a picnic out on the Quidditch pitch at an hour like this?"
"Because I can." He smirked. "Sometimes you just have to do whatever you feel like."
"You do that a little more than just 'sometimes', Potter."
"And what's the matter with that?"
She sighed, shaking her head. She was notoriously stubborn, but over the years he had been equally so. Why she even bothered, she didn't know. Turning back toward the school, she could feel her frustration getting the better of her. Talking to Potter was the last thing she ought to be doing while trying to relax.
"Wait!" She could hear him call out from behind her, but she refused to respond. "Aw, c'mon Lilykins. It would be far more interesting if you stayed and picnicked with me."
"Fine," she groaned. "I will stay at your little party here if you promise never to call me that ever again."
He hummed as though he was deeply conflicted about it. "I suppose... but Lils is still alright, yes?"
She shot him a threatening glare.
"Okay, okay. No need to get hostile."
She sat down on the opposite side of the blanket he had laid out. There were candles (which she suspected he might have stolen from the Great Hall during dinner) floating out all around them, flickering in the breeze. There was a basket of food in the centre of the blanket that looked as though it hadn't been touched.
James sat down, setting the book he had been reading off next to him. She peeked at the cover.
"You? Studying?"
"It's a thing I do sometimes. When I feel like it. I don't particularly like the idea of getting kicked out. And after all," his voice changed stern and womanly, a surprisingly accurate mockery of McGonagall "the Quidditch captain must set an example for Hogwarts and for all the on looking first years who have not yet learned that you and your little... group are not acceptable role models."
She suppressed a giggle. She looked back up to find James grinning at her.
"Don't even start that with me, Potter."
"I wasn't starting anything. Oh lighten up, Evans. You keep glaring at everyone like that; someone's going to curse your face that way forever." He laughed for a second. "Though you are quite adorable when you look at me like that, so it wouldn't be too bad."
He leaned across the blanket, taking off his glasses and putting them onto her. Leaning backward a bit, he tapped her on the nose. "There you go. Now when McGonagall gets old... well, older and senile, you can take over for her."
"I think I'll keep these," she said, teasing him. Two could play at that game. "They look better on me anyway, don't you think?"
"Everything looks better on you, Lils."
"I told you not to call me that."
"And I didn't promise I was going to stop."
Their conversation fell into an awkward silence. She could hear various noises coming from the Forbidden Forest, which stood not too far off in the distance. She recognized some of the sounds, but others were completely foreign to her. The worst she'd ever seen was an Acromantula that once peeked out forest when she was out on a walk in her first year. She made sure never to do something horrible enough to deserve detention, let alone one that would take her into the forest, not with all the horrible things lurking there.
Another strong gust of wind blew across the open pitch and she shivered, suddenly remembering how chilly it was. It was seconds after that she felt James wrap his sweater around her, before sitting down next to her.
"I think you need it a little more than me."
"Thanks," was all she could think to reply. "You know, Potter. You're not that bad after all."
"I know." He smiled. "I was just waiting for you to realize it."
She shook her head and rolled her eyes at him.
"Should we do some studying, Miss Evans?" He said before she could insult him on his arrogance.
"I suppose. You can read though, I'm not sure I have the brain power to right now."
He opened his textbook back up and began reading aloud about Wulfric the Wondrous. How he knew where to start, she wasn't sure.
Where he stopped, she wasn't sure of that either, as she was fast asleep on his shoulder before she could realize it.