[JILY] [MODERN AU]

Thank the Lucky Stars...and Tampons

-x-

James Potter, who is absolutely not a toff, finds himself at Tesco's, looking for tampons, and being accosted by a shopping trolley.

Maybe there's a reason why he shops at Waitrose...


Tampons.

James Potter was standing in front of a wall of tampons, and he didn't have a clue which one to pick. The little boxes were all in different shades of turquoise, purple, and pink and decorated with stupid things like butterflies, or flowers, or, god forbid, glitter. As if women weren't insulted enough by stupid things like the pink tax - something he'd read about on the BBC website - they also had to deal with this shite; buying boxes of tampons that looked like a fucking unicorn had thrown up on them.

But musings aside, James Potter was still standing in front of a wall of tampons and he didn't have a clue which one to pick. And he sure as hell wasn't going to pick one based solely off the packaging.

He squinted at the rows and rows of tampons and frowned at the descriptions on the boxes. Some of them said maxi. Some were called regular tampons. Others were called minis. Some were apparently extra absorbent, and others were apparently great for the 'active' girl. And then others weren't even tampons at all.

His eyes scanned a small selection of menstrual cups, and his mind almost imploded as he tried to figure out exactly what a menstrual cup was, and how in the world they worked. He was tempted to pick the box up and have a look, but was interrupted by his phone violently vibrating in his field jacket.

It was from his best mate, Sirius: for the love of god, your cousin is mad, if you aren't here with her fucking tampons in TWENTY MINUTES, i'll throw a wad of her gross bloody uterine walls at your face when you come in

James didn't know if he should feel amused or afraid, but he decided on annoyance as he shoved his phone back into his pocket and glared mutinously at the wall of pink and purple tampon boxes that seemingly taunted him with their butterfly and floral cheeriness. He decided right then and there that he hated the colour pink. He absolutely despised it. The colour pink could go fuck themselves, and so could tampons quite frankly.

How the fuck was he supposed to know that tampons were different sizes? And how was he supposed to know that there was more than two brands of them? He was a bloke, he didn't need to worry about this stuff; and it wasn't exactly like there was anyone could turn to for help. Well, except for the blasted woman who asked for them in the first place, but he absolutely refused to admit defeat. On principle. But maybe, just maybe, it had also been a mistake to offer to buy tampons for his cousin. Maybe.

There was many a thing that didn't need to be shared between cousins, and tampon preferences, or sizes, or whatever was one. He had never regretted letting her crash with him and Sirius for a few weeks until now.

His phone buzzed again in his pocket and James swore under his breath as he looked desperately at the shelves of tampons. He hadn't thought it would take him this long to grab tampons, he thought it'd only take five minutes. But this aisle was a labyrinth of pink and purple, and he seriously doubted he'd be escaping anytime soon. At least without admitting defeat to his cousin Georgie.

With a huff, he swiped the first thing he reached and shrugged, before turning away, intending on making a beeline for the self-serve checkouts.

Only, his path was obstructed, and he walked hip first onto an oncoming shopping trolley.

"Oh fuck, I'm sorry!" a panicked voice said as a pale woman with dark auburn hair backed the shopping trolley that had accosted him up. "Are you alright?"

James reached up ruffled his hair. He wasn't going to lie, his hip was probably going to be bruised, and he had been biting his tongue when she crashed into him. The shopping trolley hadn't exactly bumped into him lightly, and he suspected that there'd be a bruise forming on his hip bone tomorrow.

But he wasn't going to admit that to this stranger.

In fact, he was completely tongue-tied and he wasn't sure that he could admit anything to her. Even if he wanted to. Curse her attractiveness and his stupid hormones and brain.

"Um, are you okay?" she finally said after a few seconds of silence passed between them awkwardly. He was mildly aware that he probably looked a bit daft just standing and staring at her, but he couldn't help it.

He was positively bewitched. And at a Tesco's no doubt. He'd never been more grateful to be in a Tesco in his life, and even went so far as to thank his lucky stars for Waitrose closing just before he got there. If it hadn't he might have never come across her; the stranger without a name and intelligent emerald eyes.

Christ, he could only now imagine the looks on his old Eton chums if he ever admitted he'd stepped foot in a Tesco of all places. Not that their opinions mattered to him, most of them were a homophobic, chauvinistic, and xenophobic bell-ends with too much money and free time than they should have. Save for his three best mates, obviously.

And besides, shopping preferences and their corresponding social statuses aside, in the twenty minutes he'd been in the shop, he'd found at least ten things that were cheaper here than at Waitrose.

But he was digressing...

"Yeah, sorry I zone out sometimes. Has anyone ever told you how nice your eyes are?" he blurted out without really thinking. An unfortunate vice of his. But he didn't really regret it, strangely.

Her cheeks tinged with pink and she looked away, hiding a small smile that lifted the corners of her lips upwards. James' palms felt sweaty when he caught a tantalising glimpse of a dimple forming on her cheek.

"Sorry, that was out of line wasn't it?" he wasn't actually sorry, but British etiquette and polite decorum deemed he say sorry anyway.

"I-it's alright, thank you." James nodded as he looked up and he was graced with another look at her emerald eyes. "Are you alright though?" She waved her hand at his hip. "I didn't mean to hit you, I was just a bit distracted."

James shrugged and combed his fingers through his hair nervously, "S'alright, didn't even hurt."

She looked unconvinced but shrugged anyway, before glancing at his hands, "I see you've been tasked with a rather shoddy job then?" She gestured at the box of maxi sized tampons in his hands and smiled. He could swear that there was a slight hint of an Irish twang to her accent. But he couldn't be sure. She certainly had the trademark Irish features.

"Oh, I uh, it's not for me!"

"I'd be a bit perplexed if it was. You certainly don't look like that sort of bloke."

James' cheeks, neck, and ears felt warm as he looked away from her. Why would he even say something so stupid? He was absolutely cocking up his chance of wooing her.

"So, girlfriend, sister, friend, aunt, or mum?" she asked as she walked around her trolley and stood a few paces in front of him, her hand resting on the side of her shopping trolley. A hand that was, thankfully, devoid of any jewellery; in particular, rings. Not that he was taking note of that.

"Cousin actually."

"Mmm, well between you and I, I don't think your cousin will appreciate the choice of tampons you've gotten for her."

"Why?" James looked down at the box of tampons again, finding absolutely nothing wrong with what he had picked out. "Tampons are tampons aren't they?"

"Well, yes, but see you've picked maxi tampons." James shrugged, quirking his brow at her. She chuckled and shook her head, and for just a moment he was entranced by the sound of her laugh. "Do you know what day of her period she's on?"

James squirmed at her being so open about it. Up until that moment, he had referred to his cousin's problem as her time of the month, her bloody moon, her little bloody problem. And the sound of it being called what it actually was made him squirm a bit.

"I-I dunno. Does it even matter?"

"Yes actually, I mean I don't want to go into detail, but if it's the beginning and she has a heavy flow, she'll need maxi tampons." She grabbed the box out of his hands and gestured at it before walking towards the shelves and in front of a selection of tampons in the same brand.

"But if she's only got a regular flow, she only needs the regular tampons." She picked up a box of tampons with the word 'regular' in yellow, surrounded by pink butterflies and flowers. "However, if she's nearing the end of her cycle, you'll want to buy her some of these." She picked up another box, the others balanced in her other hand. This box had the words 'light' on it. "But if she's not on her cycle at all and just wants a bit of protection, you'll need this." This time she stepped a few paces further up the aisle and held up a small purple bag that apparently had liners in it. And not of the bin variety.

"Christ," James hissed under his breath as she walked back towards him, her arms full of the boxes of tampons and whatever the liners were. "I didn't think it'd be so complicated."

"The perils of becoming a woman," she retorted, a teasing glint in her emerald eyes.

His phone buzzed in his pocket again, and James resisted the urge to check it. It was probably Sirius hounding him again, and he refused to let his best mate ruin this chance meeting with a very pretty girl whose name he didn't yet know. He reckoned it was probably something nice, like Emily or Lily, or maybe even Clementine.

"I reckon I'll just play it safe and get one of each, what do you reckon?"

She nodded at him, albeit skeptically, and looked at the boxes in her hands. Her eyes glancing to and from the shelves every now and then.

"You know this lot will cost you at least twelve quid, right?"

"You're taking the piss." James looked at the small bundle in her hands and shook his head. "There's absolutely no way that that costs twelve quid."

"You'd best believe it."

"Do you know how much twelve quid could get me at the McDonalds down the road?"

"You're preaching to the choir," she said flatly. "You could just call and ask her you know."

"No, I think I'll just cop the twelve quid and cry about it later while I look at my bank account. I've too much pride to admit defeat."

"Bit dramatic."

"Yeah, well you're not the one who has to spend twelve pounds on tampons that they're not even going to use," he said bitterly. James took the boxes of tampons from her and threw them, a little bit too roughly, into his reusable shopping bag. He had intended on buying a bottle of scotch as well, but he'd have to forgo it now. Stupid tampons.

"You certainly don't seem like someone who'd cry about losing out on twelve quid though," she said as she walked past him and back to her trolley, obviously signalling at the way he was dressed. Was it his fault that he liked to dress in country clothing. It was comfortable, and he swore by his Barbour coat anytime the weather dropped below ten degrees.

"Bit presumptuous of you, I could be a gamekeeper or something. Or maybe I just really like wearing tweed trousers and field jackets."

"Oh yeah, absolutely. Sometimes I just like heading down to Tesco's in a full ball gown too, because, well, why not!"

James glared at her and shook his head, "I'm not a toff."

"Didn't say you were," she replied as they walked up along the aisle in step with one another. He couldn't help but feel like the smirk on her face was one of smugness. "But I'm just saying that you look like the sort of bloke that went to Eton, probably has a country manor, and probably likes shooting and skiing."

She was bang on but he wasn't about to admit it, so instead he hummed, effectively putting an end to this conversation topic and instead watched with interest as she went about her shopping. She picked up a matching bottle of some Moroccan shampoo and conditioner, whitening Sensodyne toothpaste, and a few other tidbits.

"So what about you then? Seeing as you obviously hate toffs, you don't strike me as a sloane."

She snorted in disbelief, her eyes rolling, "Do people still call them that?"

"I dunno, probably. Don't change the topic."

"You know, you're kind of pushy." He shrugged. "When I was in university, I told my best friend that if I ever became a sloane, to shoot me with a blank and knock me upside the head. Does that answer your question?"

"So do you hate everyone east of Holland Park, or is it just us apparent toffs and sloanes?"

"Just the pratty ones."

"Do I fall under that category?"

They had reached the end of the aisle and were walking towards the self-serve checkouts. It was late, James glanced at his watch and noticed that it was almost close to closing time. The employees were out and about, doing their closing up routine, and James wished that they could stay in Tesco a bit longer.

This stranger was beautiful, and quite possibly the most beautiful person that had ever hit him with a shopping trolley. Nay, she was the only person who had hit him a shopping trolley actually - bar that one time that Sirius thought it'd be funny to ram into him during a trolley race in the carpark of their local Waitrose as children. Nevertheless, he could confirm that this stranger, this paragon of beauty, and perhaps his own personal Venus, was at least a thousand times more beautiful than Sirius.

And he was positive that he had never, nor would ever, want to date or snog Sirius in his life.

The same couldn't be said for this woman.

"You're about this close to," she pinched her thumb and forefinger together and separated them an inch, a wicked grin on her face, "but I'd say your absolute cluelessness about tampons saved you."

"I can't believe I'm about to spend twelve quid on tampons." He shook his head in disbelief, glancing at the tampons with contempt.

"Neither can I."

He and the woman smiled at one another, sharing a secret laugh, before they both headed towards two self-serve kiosks that were on opposite sides to one another. A few other late night shoppers were around them, and James glanced back at his new acquaintance every now and then as he scanned the tampons. He was glad to find that he found her glancing at him bashfully too.

He had never thought it'd happen, but Tescos really could be a magical place. A place of romance and chance encounters.

After scanning the tampons, packing them into his canvas bag, and swiping his card, James walked out of the Tescos and waited for his new lady stranger by the automatic doors. There was a cool chill in the air, and he was glad to have worn warm clothes.

He checked his phone, and indeed found that there were a chain of twenty messages from Sirius. The tone of which ranged from desperation to anger, disappointment, and then back to fury. He would probably cop an earful from his best mate when he got back to their flat, but he didn't care much. Not when the woman with shining green eyes and dark auburn hair walked out of Tesco's with three green enviro bags in hand.

She walked closer towards him, and without the harsh fluorescent lights glaring in either of their faces, he found that she was even more beautiful away from the supermarket lighting. She had wrapped a red plaid scarf around her neck and had buttoned up her camel trench, and atop her head was a bright white beanie with a big fur pom pom that bobbed around in the wind.

"So…" she said as she looked at him.

He didn't know if her cheeks were pink because of him or because of the cold.

"So…" he mimicked, probably feeling equally as awkward as she looked. "Thanks for helping me out with the tampons."

"S'okay, thanks for not pressing charges against me. Hope your hip doesn't hurt or anything."

He shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets, "Don't worry about it. If I had to get rammed into by a shopping trolley, I'd rather it be you pushing it."

This time he was positive that the reddening flush on her cheeks were because of him.

"You're kind of a flirt, has anyone ever told you that?"

"Maybe one or two people, can't really remember actually."

She laughed breathily and James joined in with her. It was getting even colder the longer they stood outside and she probably wanted to go home. Problem was that he didn't want her to leave just yet, at least not without some sort of guarantee that he'd see her again.

"I should probably go, it's getting dark, and your cousin is probably wondering where you are."

"Yeah, I should probably get home too."

But neither of them moved, too busy staring at one another. He was committing her face to his memory, and finding the courage to ask for her number.

A few people walked by them, some of them staring at the pair like they were going mad. It was the middle of winter after all, and most people didn't just stand out in the cold staring at one another like dolts late at night. And yet here he was, with her.

But like many a good thing, the stillness that surrounded the two of them didn't last and James' loud, and somewhat embarrassing, ringtone cut through the silence between them, putting them out of their trance.

Glancing at the caller ID, James promptly pressed the red button on his screen and shoved the phone back in his pocket, smiling apologetically at his lovely stranger.

"Was that your cousin?"

"No, my idiot best mate." He liked the way she giggled at that.

"I suppose that's our cue to go our separate ways then."

"I suppose," James said, subdued. "Although…"

He didn't miss the way her eyes perked up when he spoke, and he wondered if it was girly to admit that his heart legitimately skipped a beat when she looked at him with such longing and anticipation.

"Although?"

"You've not got anything against McDonalds do you?"

"I can't say I do. Why?"

"Well, my flat is only up the road, and I can drop it off on the way. You don't have to say yes, but I think that after spending twelve quid on tampons, I should treat myself to a bit of a treat. You know, for being a good cousin and all."

"Are you asking me out?"

"Yes, and no. My mum would kill me if she found out I took a girl out on a date to McDonalds, but nothing else is open, and I think you look quite nice, beautiful even, and I ought to pay you back for that impromptu lesson on tampons."

The smile that was on her face grew and James didn't even bother trying to stop his heart beating a hundred miles an hour in his chest.

"I suppose I could eat," she said, looking down at her shoes. "As long as you don't judge me for my McDonalds eating habits."

"Cross my heart," he replied, a wide grin on his face that probably mirrored the smile on hers.

"Alright then, we'd best get walking then. Wouldn't want to keep your cousin waiting any longer."

The walk was pleasant and lovely, and she was pleasant and lovely. She made him laugh and their conversation never faltered. He admitted he was a toff, though rather unwillingly, and she shared precious details of her life with him that he devoured hungrily. There were hints of lust between them too, in the way that she looked at him, and the way that her tongue licked across her bottom lip when he spoke. The feeling was definitely mutual, and he found it bizarre that they were technically having their first date at a McDonalds, after having met at Tesco's. It was a strange night indeed, and he made a note to thank his cousin for asking him to get tampons for her.

It wasn't until they were getting ready to head back out into the cold and to her flat, that James finally realised that he still didn't know what the name of this enchanting and beguiling person beside him was.

"It's Lily, Lily Rose Evans."

"Of course it is. I mean, yeah, it totally makes sense."

"How so?"

"It's just, it's sweet, and you are too. It just makes sense that your name is as sweet as you are." He looked at her properly as he held the door open for her and she was frozen in her spot, staring at him wide-eyed as she held onto one of her shopping bags - he had insisted on carrying the other two. "What? Too cheesy?"

He didn't know if it was because of the twenty chicken nuggets and large chips he'd washed down with a large coke, but he was slow to react when Lily, lovely Lily, stepped forward and planted her lips on his. A few seconds passed as her lips moved against his before he finally registered what was happening and finally surrendered to the soft coaxing of her lips on his.

Minutes, hours, years, he wasn't sure, went by before they broke apart and blinked dazedly at one another. Both of them with flushed cheeks, and both of them sporting identical grins on their faces.

"My name is James, James Potter."

"No middle name?"

"Yeah, but I reckon I won't tell you until at least our sixth date, or until I'm on the piss." He held the door open for her as she walked out, and he couldn't help his eyes wandering to her bum. Christ alive, everything about this bird was perfect.

"Alright then. James?"

"Yeah Lily."

"Walk me home?"

"Alright."

And as if on cue, as if they were in the middle of a romantic movie that his mate Peter loved, snowflakes dropped delicately onto both of their faces. The first snows of winter; a rarity in London.

James Potter had never believed in magic, or fate, or destiny, or whatever else Sirius called it. He never believed in love at first sight, or romantic chance encounters, and feeling an instant connection with someone like Peter did. But tonight had been a night of firsts.

First time he had shopped for tampons. First time he had gone to Tesco's. First time he had been hit by a shopping trolley by a lovely stranger named Lily, with dark auburn hair and magical green eyes. And the first time he had gone on a date at McDonalds. None of these events or happenings were conducive to romance and romantic encounters, and yet here he stood in front of a McDonalds in Kensington, in the middle of the most romantic evening of his life.

Neither Tesco's nor McDonalds were magical in their own right, but LIly was, and in meeting her he had felt more magic than he had his entire life.

He had never believed in magic or fate or destiny, and he still didn't really. But until the end of his days he would always thank his lucky stars for the coincidental chain of events that brought him and Lily together.

Oh, and tampons. He couldn't forget the tampons.

Thank the lucky stars and tampons.