For Zoe
Irregular Orbits
Gravity had always affected James and Lily in different ways. Scientifically, it would be based on the undeniable mass difference between the lanky Quidditch player and the slight redhead, but Hogwarts wasn't a place for any of Newton's Laws. It was simply a known fact that James and Lily had completely irregular orbits; sometimes in a disjointed harmony, often at separate sides of their own universe.
So from that, it follows that there must have been times when their orbits were perfectly in synch. Or – as the case so often was with Lily and James – they crashed violently together.
First Year: A Welcome, of Sorts
Lily blinked in surprise as Severus walked to the other end of the Hall, away from her, to where a tall, blond boy with a gleaming prefect badge on his chest patted him on the back as he sat among his new housemates. Housemates that weren't hers.
Slytherin.
Sev had always talked about Slytherin; like it was the next step on the journey of his life he had mapped out from infanthood. It was just that she – and he – had been so certain that they'd be taking this next step together.
Slytherin. While she was sitting there, in Gryffindor. Could she ask for a do-over? Sitting there, between those prats from the train.
And yet, Lily thought, barely listening as a man with long, silvery hair and a beard of the same nature welcomed them to a new year at Hogwarts– who could only be the infamous Dumbledore, and there was a quick pang of regret as she remembered reading Tuney's letter – if it hadn't been for those prats from the train, she wouldn't have been sitting where she was at that moment. Because although they had been rude; insulted Sev, made fun of her; those few moments where the one with the glasses had been talking about Gryffindor … he'd said it so majestically, so full of belief, that everything about the word had seemed right.
Where dwell the brave at heart, he'd said. And though she'd stormed off and had found another compartment with Severus, Lily had reflected upon those words for the rest of the train journey. They had still been in her mind when she had travelled with the other first years across the lake on those wonderful, wonderful boats, and were ringing in her ears when the Sorting Hat had been placed upon her head. Brave. Everything about coming here was brave, Lily thought; leaving her home, leaving Petunia and her parents on the platform, stumbling through the realisation that for over nine years, she'd lived without knowing the name for who she was.
She was brave, and just the mere word Gryffindor had, in one instant, had a world of appeal. Lily had been more drawn to Gryffindor in a moment than she'd ever been to Slytherin; no matter how many times Severus had spoken of it.
So now she was here, and he was on the other side of the Hall. Why did she feel like her world had just separated? They were still in the same school, after all.
There was suddenly a deafening sound of applause, and Lily was jolted from her contemplation as the Headmaster sat down. She'd missed the speech, she mused, but she supposed it didn't matter. She already knew that she was starting a whole new chapter of her life; it didn't need to be put into words, no matter how clever the person saying them might be.
Lily bit her lip, staring morosely at the gold plate in front of her. She began to wonder whether there was a chance they were eating at all that night. Food, after all, could be relied upon to at least marginally cheer her up. Or did wizards have something else for that? The thought had barely been processed when the empty dishes in front of her were suddenly filled with every condiment to a roast dinner imaginable. Her mouth dropped open.
"Potatoes, Red?" the boy with the glasses asked airily from her left, observing the evident surprise on her face with a grin. Lily accepted wordlessly, helping herself to several before looking at him again.
"Lily," she said quietly. The boy, who'd been leaning across her to talk to the one who'd said Snivellus, turned in confusion.
"Sorry?"
Lily swallowed. "My name, it's Lily," she said, louder than before. "Lily Evans."
The boy smiled. "James Potter," he said grandly, and something about the surname was emphasized as it passed his lips, like it was something everyone should know. He jerked his head in the direction of the other one, who was now talking loudly across the table to an older student whom both boys appeared to know. "And that's Sirius Black."
"Pleasure," said Lily simply, not completely softened by the magical – would that word ever cease to sound like fantastical adjective? – appearance of the food, still disgruntled for the way she and Sev had been treated on the train.
As she helped herself to roast chicken, the boy called James Potter smiled at her again. "Glad to see you in Gyffindor, Evans."
For a moment, she liked him.
"You match and everything." He tugged a red lock of hair that was falling over her shoulder. "Did you dye this in preparation?"
And then she didn't again.
Second Year: Feeling Foolish
Lily cursed herself internally. She should have known that choosing the hardest topic was a mistake. Not because she couldn't do it, for of course she could. It was just that there were only two others in the class capable of understanding movement charms to the extent of doing a report on them, and considering the fact that Sirius Black was far too lazy, that left …
"Looking forward to working with you, Evans," James Potter called cheerily from his table in the back corner of the room, and Lily groaned. If they did Charms with the Slytherins, and not the Hufflepuffs, it wouldn't have been a problem. She would have been partnered with Sev, and not with Potter for the mere reason that he was the only applicable candidate for Professor Flitwick to assign.
"It's not so bad, Lil," said Marlene McKinnon beside her, in a sympathetic tone. "I'm with Bertram Aubrey, and I'd give my right arm to be partnered with James. He's a bit immature, sure, but he's brilliant at school. It's just that he's …" she trailed off, looking towards the back corner, and Lily followed her gaze. James, Sirius, and Peter Pettigrew were pretending to fence, sparks flying from the ends of their wands. Remus Lupin was looking on with a wry sort of amusement. As the two girls watched, an ember landed on a roll of parchment, which ignited immediately. Roaring with laughter, James put it out by pounding it with Sirius' textbook.
"He's Potter," Lily finished Marlene' sentence, and the blond winced.
"Sorry," Marlene said sympathetically, but Lily only sighed.
********************
James didn't mind working with Lily in the slightest. Yes, the girl seemed to have missed some education on the meaning of fun, but she'd attended most of the classes on humour. Lily Evans was wickedly smart, and James felt an odd sense of really wanting to do well on this assignment; or rather, do well with the slight change of not leaving all of his work until the last minute. After all, as far as his twelve year old mind could comprehend, Lily Evans' only flaw was that she spent a bit too much time with that Snape creep, but that could hardly be helped. Or, maybe he, James Potter, could change that.
Once they'd finished rocking the socks off of this assignment.
It wasn't exactly hard; just a bit of background work for Charms, a report that had to be prepared on a particular spell and presented to the class. They were all Charms they'd learned in First Year, but the extended summer holidays had rendered them all rusty. The varying degree of difficulty – a small but significant factor – lay in the fact that each pair had to simultaneously demonstrate their chosen spell to the class. This, therefore, was why most of the class had either chosen Impervious, or Reparo. Lily and James had been the only two to choose the most difficult of the three options; Locomotor.
James wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he'd chosen the movement charm partly because he knew that Lily would, too. The witch was always up for a challenge.
And, still trying to impress her, though not knowing the reason why he wanted to (this didn't matter, he became aware of the fact a couple of years later, and at that time woefully longed for pre-adolescent innocence), he'd been the one to suggest that they work on the assignment in the library that afternoon.
"Why?" Lily had asked curiously. James had shrugged.
"The common room is too noisy to concentrate."
Lily had looked incredibly surprised to hear the words coming from his mouth (considering that he was generally the central source of the noise), but she had readily agreed to meet him.
This meant that James found himself in the library on a Wednesday afternoon in early September, looking around bemusedly and not quite knowing where to sit. The Charms section would, obviously, be an excellent choice of position, but there was the slight dilemma that James was completely clueless as to its location.
Perhaps second year had been a little overdue to attempt to explore this region of the school. He was a late bloomer in this area, clearly. In fact, he now felt a little foolish, and James never allowed himself to feel foolish.
"Potter?" There was an inquisitive voice behind him, and James wheeled around. Lily Evans was standing behind him, a mixture of curiosity and amusement written on her face.
James cleared his throat. "Yeah?"
Lily raised an eyebrow. "You're kind of standing in the middle of the library."
James fought to ensure that he did not look embarrassed. "Yeah, I was just making sure you could see me." Lily didn't look like she believed him, but she didn't press the point, and James was vaguely grateful. "Do you want to go sit down by the Charms section?"
"Sure," Lily said simply, and a knowing smile was beginning to spread across her face. James rumpled his hair slightly.
"Er … mind leading the way?"
Lily laughed, but didn't say anything, and James followed her to a table, making a mental note to remember where the section was.
They worked well together, James mused as he waited for Lily to finish writing a paragraph about the correct wand movements. Her little red head was bent over the parchment, and he noticed that she fidgeted with the hem of her jumper as she thought. Incidentally, and strangely, they had not bickered once in over an hour, a bit of a record for them. The two of them never fought, exactly, James considered, but there were usually a few scathing remarks and eye-rolling shared between them. He found that he rather liked the absence.
********************
"We destroyed that assignment."
"Um, I wouldn't say destroyed…"
"No, you're right. Decimated is a better word. Knocked it to the ground. Trampled over its dead body. We killed it, Evans."
"Lower your voice," Lily laughed, nodding with his points despite herself. She and James were chatting over lunch; they'd just presented their assignment in Charms, and they had done … exceedingly well. Brilliantly, really, but Lily was a little more modest than James and wasn't about to declare it loudly for the entire Great Hall to hear.
But they had done brilliantly. So well, in fact, that Flitwick had beamingly dismissed the entire class five minutes early, commenting that no one was going to be able to top it before the end of the lesson, so they might as well leave.
It had felt excellent.
Grinning across from her, James piled mashed potato on his plate. "We should do that potions assignment together, too."
The balloon of achievement that had been inside her since they'd presented deflated slightly and Lily bit her lip, looking over James's shoulder to the Slytherin table. Severus, having just come from Transfiguration, was watching her and Potter with a somewhat closed expression, but smiled at her slightly when she gave him a little wave.
Working with James had been great, far better than she'd expected, but…
"Evans?" James prompted, waiting for an answer.
Lily bit her lip. "Yeah, maybe…" she said, but she knew it wasn't going to happen. She couldn't just leave Severus, after all. They, she thought proudly, were what Professor Slughorn called 'The Dream Team'. James and she made a good pair, but they were nothing on her and Sev.
James, meanwhile, noticed that Lily's smile had faded, and his own slipped slightly from his face as a result. "Yeah," he said, glancing behind her to where she had been looking a few moments ago. Suddenly, he understood. Somewhat. "Well, I can't just abandon Sirius, anyway…" he said quietly, trying to disguise his disappointment. "He doesn't mind working with Peter, but it's not the same."
"Sounds good," said Lily quickly, giving him a small smile. "Pass the sprouts?"
James obliged, but he was left, once again, feeling a little foolish. Evans, he realised, tended to have that effect on him.
Third Year: Ordinary
"Have you ever stayed behind at Christmas before?"
Lily shook her head, crunching on the Honeydukes Finest Marlene had sent her, and that she and James were sharing by the Gryffindor fire as Christmas Day rolled into evening. She, James and Sirius were the only Gryffindor Third Years who'd stayed over the holidays, but the latter had retreated to bed immediately after lunch, battling a severe stomach ache from the entire chicken he'd eaten.
"This is my first," said Lily over a mouthful of chocolate, swallowing before she continued. "Usually I go home, but Petunia's best friend's taken her to France, and mum and dad have decided to take the opportunity to go to Spain, because they think no one should be subjected to too much cold weather." She rolled her eyes. "So they abandon their youngest daughter in Scotland."
Potter laughed, but he didn't add anything, and Lily nodded at him. "What about you?"
"It's more fun to be here with Sirius than at home," he shrugged. "My parents are pretty old."
Lily thought there was more to it, she knew Black had troubles at home, but she didn't press the issue. She settled further into her armchair, rather enjoying spending Christmas with someone her own age, for a change. Potter wouldn't have been her first choice, would actually have appeared towards the end of the list, but he was shaping up rather nicely.
"Favourite present today?" she asked, breaking off another slab of chocolate and passing it to James.
"You first."
"This, obviously," she replied, stuffing more chocolate in her mouth. "I luff foode."
"Charming."
"You're one to talk. Who had the burping competition with their best mate right in front of the staff table?"
Potter pointed a mocking finger at her. "Don't use that against me Evans, you were laughing. And Dumbledore was the judge, so clearly no one minded." He ruffled his hair, and Lily thought that he was probably the most arrogant boy she had ever met, but somehow the thirteen year old made it charming. But though he had an annoyingly obvious talent for making everyone admire him, drawing people to him no matter the situation, he was nicer in his own company. That was a definite.
James was talking about presents again.
"…Peter and Remus got me the new Martin Miggs stuff, that's pretty cool," he said, biting off a piece himself.
"Er … Martin say what now?"
Potter swallowed quickly, staring at her incredulously.
"You don't know Martin Miggs?"
"No."
"Martin Miggs the Mad Muggle?"
"No … and I don't like what that insinuates."
Potter waved a hand, simultaneously dismissing her comment and leading in to what he was going to say with a flourish. "Let me introduce you to the greatest creation in the world."
He launched into an explanation of Martin Miggs, the bloody fantastic comic which had started a little over a decade ago, not a better thing in the world to grow up with, and he was this French chap, absolutely mad, hence the title, and he did all these hilarious things, thought those magiciamy-whatsits could actually do magic, and in the latest issue, which just come out and it was absolutely brilliant (it was the accompaniments that the others bought him), Miggs had cooked his dinner in this weird box that went PING! when it was done, did those things actually exist and where could I find one?, and wait right here I'll be right back.
It was a battle for Lily to keep a straight face through Potter's description of a microwave, but she controlled herself until he bounded back down the stairs and grandly presented to her a miniature model of the kitchen appliance, along with a beret-wearing naturally-moving figurine.
Potter scowled as the giggles escaped her.
"Sorry," she said, fighting to regain control, "it's just that a microwave – it's just … so ordinary. It's weird to see you so excited over it."
Potter eyed her for a moment, before shrugging. "Fair enough," he said, "but I'm not going to forget the way your face looked when the crackers came out at lunch."
He mimicked her expression from earlier, jaw dropping comically and eyes widening to miniature saucers.
"Muggle ones don't do that," protested Lily, but she was laughing again. "There's a little bang, not a sound like a building's exploded, and an entire writing kit doesn't fly at your face… I swear my stomach dropped to the ground."
"It certainly looked like it," James said solemnly. "I thought you'd died. You didn't move at all for half a minute, just sat there…" he pulled the face again, before appearing to imitate her.
"It's just so ordinary, so simple, so commonplace, and you're so excited by it," he said in a ridiculous falsetto. "Honestly, Lily Evans, don't you know anything? You're so naïve with your mic… mico... nicro … er-"
"Microwave?" Lily chirped, popping the last of her chocolate in her mouth and dusting her hands. "At least I know what a Christmas Cracker is."
Fourth Year: No Comment(ary)
"Before there's any loud protest about my being here, I'm just proving a point."
James groaned, at the same time that Sirius laughed, and their captain, Stewart Dawson, turned to them incredulously.
"McGonagall's letting a Fourth Year commentate?"
"Relax Stew," said Sirius, "Fourth Years have commentated before."
"Yes," said James, and he could feel a giddy kind of amazement rising in him, because the crazy girl had actually gone ahead and done it, "the real question is what potion Lily Evans gave McGonagall to convince her that she should commentate."
"Does Evans even know anything about Quidditch?" Sirius asked, grabbing his broom as they heard the Ravenclaw team being somewhat hesitantly announced.
"No bloody idea."
"She's mad, isn't she?"
"Barking," replied James, picking up his own new-edition Cleansweep.
"You fancy her."
"No comment."
********************
"… Potter, who you should all know is currently losing a bet-"
"The Team, Miss Evans."
"Right you are, Professor. And Dawson, Gryffindor's best Seeker in years. Hasn't lost a match since that one in his fourth year, or was it his fifth … well, you all remember how he got motion sickness, anyway. Kept having bludgers pelted at him, and he swerved them all, before being marvellously sick all over the Hufflepuff stands."
"Miss Evans."
"Right. Got it. Eyes on the pitch."
~~
"Is she real?"
"No idea."
"'Luck, Prongs."
"You too, Padfoot."
~~
"The balls have been released, and everyone's flying around now. Ravenclaw with the quaffle … no, Yarrow just lost it to Potter, who's looking very smug, considering that I'm here proving him wrong-"
"Evans."
"Sorry Professor. Potter passes to Black, who feints down and past Dodds, ooooo. Dodges a nasty bludger from one of the Ravenclaw beaters there, don't know which one. Nice work, but he's dropped the Quaffle, Ravenclaw back in possession.
"Eden Woods for Ravenclaw speeding down the pitch now, whoosh, right past me, they go fast on those brooms, don't they?"
"…
"Okay, stop glaring, Professor. Woods approaching the hoops, racing past Potter who apparently can't overcome his ego to defend her. Potter's looking at me now, probably not a good idea considering Woods is about to score, come ON Gryffindor!
"Damn."
"Evans!"
"Hmmsmgswrr."
"Don't mumble, Lily."
~~
"I don't know what bet Lily Evans is going on about, Potter. And I don't care. Pull your head in."
"Sorry, Dawson."
"And Reed, a Hinkypunk could have saved those last three shots. Girls see better than blokes, try to prove that, yeah?"
"Sorry, Dawson."
"Merlin, everyone stop with the 'Sorry, Dawson'. Just play. It's been an hour, Ravenclaw lead by sixty. Potter, Black, Tallis: fight for the Quaffle every now and then. And use your Bludgers, Beaters. You're not playing with strategy. Belting them won't do anything.
"Now, I'll just find that goddamned Snitch."
~~
"So it seems … at least I think … I'm not sure here … but Gryffindor have picked up their game, it looks like. They're certainly scoring more. I don't know if that's just luck, or… but at any rate, if they keep this up we'll be first on the ladder, and straight through to the final-
"OUCH. Agrippa, that must have hurt. Potter smashed in the face by a Bludger there, but he seems intact, his nose is just bleeding. A lot. Serves him right for underestimating me, although I do hope he stays around long enough to win this."
"Miss Evans, one more personal comment and I'll finish the match myself."
EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
"Woah, sorry. I'll cover the microphone a bit better.
eeeeeeeeeeeeeee
"Professor, I told you, Potter seriously insulted my dignity. I'm only here to prove that I do have "a single Quidditch-toned brain cell", and that I should "bother my pretty red head over these elite matters"."
"I respect that Evans, but perhaps that would be best achieved by following the match."
"Oh. Good point."
eeeeeeeeeeeeee
"So, um, Potter just won a penalty there. I'll give him the grace of admitting his form's improved a lot in this stage of the game. It's now one hundred and twenty to one hundred to ten, for Ravenclaw. Gryffindor close to equalling the score for the first time in the match, as the game time approaches two hours.
"This is a really clean game, too. Gryffindor's best beater Howthwaite is still in the hospital wing after last month's foul play from the Slytherin Seeker, who now has a lifetime ban.
"Black's got the quaffle, and he passes to Potter, who makes his way down the pitch – no, he's lobbed it across to Black again, who lobs it to Tallis … I don't know what the Gryffindor Chasers are trying to do, but if their aim is to show off, it's working –
"Oh. Well, nicely done. Everyone watch the seekers! They've seen something! Um, obviously the Snitch. They're both hurtling straight across the pitch, DAWSON IN FRONT, Merlin I wish he had longer arms-
"Boys, stop! Slow down!
"Professor, LOOK OUT!
"…
"Er….
"Does anyone know what happens when the commentator catches the Snitch?"
********************
"Shoving McGonagall to the floor and smashing the Snitch against her arm has to be the greatest play in history. Be our Seeker, Evans?"
It was early evening, and James watched in amusement as Lily looked at him quickly, then scrunched her eyes shut and pressed herself into the corner of her couch against the wall of the common room. The match had ended in ultimate confusion, and even now, several hours later, the Gryffindors weren't quite sure how they felt about it. In usual post-match tradition, the entire house was packed into the one room, but the atmosphere was one of general muddle.
"Don't look at me with that smirk, Potter. And don't-" Lily closed her eyes tightly, holding back a groan as he flopped beside her. "Sit down," she finished, squeezing the words past her lips.
The Chaser laughed, leaning back languidly and holding a bottle towards her. "We'd planned a victory party, of course, or perhaps a defeat mourning, but it turns out we're marking the first ever occurrence of a Quidditch draw. Butterbeer?"
"Might as well drown my embarrassment," Lily sighed, taking a gulp. "I've been teased relentlessly all afternoon. When's the rematch, again?"
"Two weeks."
"Sorry, can't come. I'll have Dragon Pox and be in St Mungo's."
"Pull through for me Evans. My form is sure to improve right through until then."
"Doesn't change the fact that you missed six goals. Or that Mary reckons the Bludger that winded you got you because you were too busy fluffing up your hair and looking at me."
"Keep ranting, let out your humiliation."
"Or that you now have to serenade McGonagall over dinner tomorrow." James suddenly felt less victorious, and warily eyed the glint of triumph that appeared in Lily's eyes. She downed the Butterbeer, and he exhaled in a huff.
"I'd forgotten about that." A pause. "Do you think the Elves will help out? They love me; I reckon they can be persuaded to hum in the background. Or bang on some saucepans."
Lily looked at him pointedly, and James shrugged. "Fair enough, they weren't stupid enough to bet against you."
"But you were."
"And we both know that I won't be making that mistake again."
Lily smirked, and tilted the empty bottle towards him in acknowledgement. James chewed his lip for a moment, wondering what it was about her that made his insides twist and his mind whisper wow and his brain convince him that whatever stupid thing he could do to impress her was a perfectly good idea. Whether that was a weirdly-rhyming poem or drowning himself in the lake.
Those acts weren't bravery, and he was slightly resentful of that.
"So," he said, aiming for nonchalance, but getting up and aiming to disappear into the party immediately, "what are the chances of me getting to go out with the hero of the match?"
He had stepped quickly around the couch and was heading for his mates by the time she replied, and all he saw were her lips move. It didn't matter that he couldn't hear, he knew what the gist of her answer must have been; she was looking thoroughly annoyed.
"Sorry!" he called, gesturing in the air between them, "I couldn't here you over this connection between us!"
James ducked through a crowd of first years. She'd already hexed him once that term, and he didn't want to push his luck.
Fifth Year: The Blockade
By the third week, it no longer seemed like a detour. The entire school felt as though the roundabout way they were forced to descend to the dungeons was the way they'd always taken; like the steps by the entrance hall had never existed. Of course, the fact that the stench had faded helped somewhat in stopping the blockade through the entire passageway - the solid mass of swamp that had appeared during dinner the first night school had resumed after the Easter holidays – from being at the forefront of everyone's minds.
It was the third week, however, when Hogwarts was abruptly reminded of the existence of the barricade one Sunday morning during breakfast, when Filch completely lost it.
He was screaming loud enough to make a howler jealous, and when Lily raced out of the Great Hall with a half-eaten piece of toast still in hand, it was to see a circle of students with the caretaker in the centre, facing James Potter and Sirius Black. Filch was blue in the face, and James and Sirius appeared utterly self-satisfied.
The pack of onlookers looked incredibly smug, too. The whole school knew that it could only have been the Marauders who could pull of such a complex and seemingly indestructible piece of magic, and while they all knew that while Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew would have their fingers in it somewhere, the two key masterminds behind the plot couldn't be anyone but Black and Potter.
The thing that was driving the staff up the wall – Filch, most particularly – was that there was absolutely no way to prove it. The teachers had gotten so desperate as to scan the area for fingerprints, because there had been no magical trace left behind.
Which resulted in a blue Filch and a smug Black and Potter. The former appeared to have lost all power of articulation; with eyes widened to the size of small cauldrons he stood rigidly, simply stabbing a finger repeatedly in the direction of the two delinquents.
"Prongs," Sirius sighed, "That wasn't very nice."
With an air of innocence, James turned to his fellow accused.
"What wasn't?"
Grinning, Sirius jerked his head in the direction of the caretaker. "Silencing dear old Mr Filch here."
"I would remind you that the fellow in question has current possession of my wand."
Lily straightened up to see around a tall sixth year stood in front of her, annoyingly blocking her view of Filch somewhat, and looked towards the old man's left hand; the one that didn't appear as though it was attempting to gauge out the eyes of Black and Potter from a distance. It was, indeed, clutched around two wands; Filch's gnarled fist clenching them so tightly his knuckles were clearly white, even from a distance.
Sirius lifted a hand to stroke his chin, assuming a presence of being deep in thought. "So, it wasn't a silencing charm then…"
"Oh contraire!" James replied, and the heads of the spectators now packed into the Entrance Hall swivelled from one Marauder to the other. "There's definitely a silencing charm involved."
Sirius gasped. "But if not now, when?"
"If not me," James countered, "who?"
Sirius laughed. "But it was you, wasn't it."
James grinned cockily. "Naturally. It turns out you can place a strong silencing charm on someone's food, and once digested…" He trailed off with a meaningful look at Filch, who crossed the distance between them in two steps, grabbing James's shoulders and spinning him around. He did the same to Sirius, and proceeded to march them out of the Entrance Hall in the direction of his office. A whoop came from a crowd of Ravenclaw fourth years, and James bowed his head in their direction. Filch clapped him on the back of his skull, knocking his glasses askew.
"I don't know why you're so angry, Mr Filch," Lily head James call as he rounded the corridor. "It'll wear off you know … probably by dinner tomorrow!"
Lily felt a presence beside her, and smiled as she turned to see her fellow Gryffindor fifth year perfect, Remus Lupin. "Those two are going to get themselves murdered by Filch one day," he sighed, but his tone was amused.
Lily hummed and took a bite of the toast still in her hand. "But would it really be such a travesty?"
"Probably not," Remus granted. Peter Pettigrew appeared behind him with a chuckle.
"Yeah," he agreed, "the two of us would be a lot safer."
Lily looked around, checking that most of the onlookers had returned to breakfast before lowering her voice. "So you lot are the ones responsible for the blockade?"
"Now Lily," chastised Lupin, "you know that would be telling."
"The Blockade, though," Peter mused, shoving his hands in his pockets and stepping away. "Good title, Evans."
Lupin stepped back also, giving Lily a wink. "We'll have to tell James."
Lily rolled her eyes, chewing the last of her toast as she watched them leave. "Insufferable gits," muttered a voice behind her. Lily turned to Severus with a smirk.
"One day," she reprimanded (but not without humour), "I'll get through a whole morning without you making snide remarks about the boys in my house, or vice versa."
Snape frowned, and she knew she hadn't said the right thing. She had memorised the signs, and she immediately comprehended from the furrow which appeared between his brows that her best mate – he was still her best mate, after all, though the title had now been debatable for a long time – was ready for a rant, and she braced herself accordingly.
"They're not 'the boys in your house'," he said lowly, but so earnestly he could be warning her about a mass murderer approaching, "they're the Marauders."
"And they don't carry the plague, Sev."
"They've destroyed part of the castle!"
"It's just blocked. And besides, there's no proof that they actually did it."
"You know they did though, don't you? You're not going to turn into every other prat in this school and turn a blind eye to every little thing Perfect Potter does, are you, Lily?" Severus's voice had become small and mocking, and Lily drew herself straighter.
"There's no proof, Severus," she repeated, and he huffed angrily.
"Everyone knows they're the only lot in the school arrogant enough and with petty loathing enough to block the main way to the Slytherin common room."
Lily swore she could feel her eyes flash.
"Petty loathing?" her voice was laced with incredulity. "Says the one whose friends cursed Mary so badly she was in the hospital wing for the last week of term?"
"There's -"
"No proof," Lily interjected forcefully. "Exactly. So just leave it."
Severus bit his lip, and she knew what was coming, she knew it. But no matter how many times he said it, or expressed something similar, nothing prepared her for the rage that flared through her veins at the words.
"I can't believe you're defending him."
The statement had changed over time; in second year Sev had usually expressed it as an accusation, targeted in a twelve-year-old way of making Lily immediately blush and deny it fervently. It was a whine in third year, almost jealous in fourth as she'd begun to spend less and less time with the Slytherin. Now though, it was most maddening of all. Uttered as a sort of disgusted disappointment, with his mouth curling into a sneer and the words skidding past his teeth.
Rather than explode on the spot and cover Severus with recently-digested breakfast, Lily turned on her heel and marched away.
********************
"You've got to talk to me eventually, Lily."
It was the next day, in last period potions. Lily had not expressed any animosity; hadn't expressed much of anything, really. She'd just gotten on with her work, making bare minimum conversation with Snape, her permanent seatmate. She heard his chair scrape slightly closer to her, but didn't do anything except continue to cut her scarab beetle.
"There's proof, anyway, so I'm not unjustified." There was a pause. "Do you want me to tell you?"
Lily didn't look up, but heard him search his bag for something. A moment later, there was a thud on the desk beside her, and then a skidding noise as Severus pushed whatever he'd found across so that it nudged against her elbow. She glanced at the table to see a copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5. Lily puckered her brow in confusion, not seeing how even the abstract minds of Potter & CO. could draw a prank of such ingenious scale from the pages of their inoffensive textbook.
She looked at Severus sceptically. "You're telling me that Miranda Goshawk is the true mastermind behind it all?"
He sent her a pointed look, flipping the book open to a dog-eared page. "Of course not; it's Potter's copy."
An hourglass on the desk Lily had charmed to turn every half-hour flipped, and she added the scarab beetle to her potion. Besides a vague question in her mind as to how Severus had managed to steal Potter's book, she had no real motivation to speak. There was no use prompting Sev, she mused, he'd get to his point in his own way or he'd never reach it at all. She had the surprising realisation that she didn't really care either way. The prank was amusing, after all, and while inconvenient, it hadn't actually harmed anyone. The harm factor – which often transcended to pure bullying – was when she took objection to the tricks of the Marauders, but in the matter of the blockade she found herself marvelling at the quality of the magic which had produced it, a wonder which hadn't diminished now, three weeks after its first appearance.
Severus was mumbling to himself, and Lily noted that his wand was out. She sighed inwardly. He and Potter really ought to be dating, with the amount of time they spent analysing every movement of the other; each equally hell bound on ruining the other's existence.
"Here!" Sev muttered fiercely, and Lily turned her attention to him with an odd combination of resignation and curiosity. She would prefer that Severus would just let the matter rest, because it was infuriating to have him continually harp on about it, but there was a large part of her that wanted to know exactly how the boys had managed to do it. After Filch's silencing the previous morning (which, according to several reports, had yet to wear off) several Ministry officials had been called in, and their efforts had yielded no results except to turn the barrier blue. But all Severus was pointing to was a good deal of scrawling in the margins.
She couldn't help but snort.
"Seriously, Sev?" she answered his disgruntled scowl. "That's exactly what you do in your textbooks. You're treating it like a grand criminal investigation."
"You don't get it," he muttered. "They'd bewitched all the ink to be invisible, but for a bunch of stuck-up prats who've outwitted everyone, they did a pretty shoddy job."
Lily shot a look to where James was working at a table with Peter in the far right of the dungeon. Both cauldrons were omitting smoke a good deal thicker than the faint steam they were meant to be producing, but neither seemed to care. It was odd, thought Lily, how much precision they executed their misadventures with, in contrast to the carelessness with which they seemed to treat their education.
"Alright," she said, traces of humour edging into her voice, "show me the master plans."
Severus hesitated. "Well, that's not exactly it."
Lily raised her eyebrows.
"Don't give me that look," he said impatiently. "Just read it."
Using her fingertips, Lily drew the book towards her. The writing was most clustered in the top left of the page. In an untidy scribble she immediately recognised as Potter's – due to a disturbingly large number of invitations to Hogsmeade that had been dropped on her desk – there was a harried, "Barricade it tonight?"
Beneath it was a line of loopier handwriting which she could only presume belonged to Black. "Affirmative. During dinner."
There was a moment where Lily registered that there were many thoughts chasing each other through her head, but didn't care to discern them. She traced the scrawled words lightly, and as she did something crucial came to the front of her mind.
She didn't want the Marauders to be punished.
The solid swamp was so brilliant that it almost seemed to warrant congratulations rather than a penalty. And watching the Slytherins rush in late to every lesson and mealtime had been more than a little amusing.
Lily knew that Severus would have his eyes trained on her face; watching her every move and gauging her frame of mind. Taking care to not even let an eyebrow twitch, she lifted her wand from where it lay beside her wrist on the table, and tapped the textbook once so that the correspondence vanished.
Not looking at her desk mate to see his reaction, she began the ten minutes of anti-clockwise stirring required. "Give it a rest, Sev," she murmured. "It's pointless."
********************
"Potter, wait!"
Ahead of her in the west dungeon corridor – on the long route to the Great Hall, thanks to his own actions – James Potter turned around, and grinned widely when he saw that it was Lily who'd called his name. He stepped away from his three mates and doubled back towards her, book bag swinging jauntily by his side.
"Evans!" he said merrily. "Couldn't bear a walk upstairs without my company?"
Lily sent him a look, and held in front of her the book she'd placed in her bag at the conclusion of her conversation with Severus just half an hour ago, in spite of his frantically hissed objections. James took it with his head tilted, running a thumb along the cover as he inspected it. After a few moments, the confusion outlined on his face vanished, and was replaced with a cocky smirk.
"You know Evans," he chided, "you don't have to steal my property in a desperate attempt to talk to me."
"Bugger off." She glanced behind her, even though she was completely aware that Severus had stormed out of class the instant the bell had rung, without a word to her or a backwards glance in her direction. "Severus stole it, and he showed me the plans you had inside."
James's curved mouth took on a sardonic lilt. "You going to go tell Dumbledore then, little Lily?"
"Don't be an arse in addition to an idiot," retorted Lily. "Severus wants to turn you in, and I'm just warning you before he does. Whether or not Dumbledore finds out is now entirely in your hands."
James carelessly stuffed the book in his bag, before returning to her with an eyebrow raised arrogantly behind his glasses. "What do you care, Evans? And for that matter, why should I care?"
Lily shifted her weight, firmly folding her arms across her chest. "I have a feeling you'd much rather spend every weeknight for the rest of the school year – which, I can assure you, is exactly the length of sentence you would receive – doing whatever nonsense you and your mates get up to, rather than continuing your budding love affair with Filch, hanging from shackles in his office. You may like them quiet, Potter, but he'll gain his voice again soon enough."
Potter had tilted his head back to look at her, and Lily stared at him defiantly. She knew she had the upper hand, but she detested the way his lips were always quirked to the right when he talked to her, like he was just waiting to kick her feet from beneath her and drag her off to the closest broom cupboard.
It was annoying, though, because there was always a twinkle in his eye which indicated that he'd probably give her some very pretty flowers on the way.
"Alright, we'll take it down."
Lily blinked. "What?"
James chuckled. "We'll take the barricade down. Or The Blockade: Pete told me you'd named it that."
Lily disregarded the first comment, and only responded to the latter. "I didn't name it. Don't flatter yourself."
"Really? I would have thought it would be exactly your scene. Giving it a proper naming ceremony; smashing a bottle of champagne against it, having us all wave our handkerchiefs... it's quite the Lily Evans idea."
"You think you know me."
"Evans, I've seen you accompanied by Jane Austen more than enough times to know that you have a fetish for romanticism."
Lily closed her mouth over smile. "Fair enough."
He fiddled with his glasses for a moment. "So, I've agreed – extremely reluctantly, I'll have you know – to end things with my dearest Filch, and I have a proposition, seeing you're so invested in protecting me from punishment and all..."
Lily groaned. She knew it was coming, he hadn't approached her all term, which was exceedingly out of character and she'd been expecting it for days now, but still her mind was racing with dontsayitdontsayitdontsayit
"Go out with me."
"Bloody hell, Potter, NO."
It was so fierce an exclamation that he chuckled, tucking his hands in his pockets, and for some reason that made her laugh a little in exasperation. She shook her head, lifting a hand to brush a lock of hair away from her face. His eyes charted her fingers.
"Honestly," said Lily, "what do you think I'm going to say?"
"Well, why do you always say no?"
"Why do you keep asking me out?"
"Because I know that one day the answer's going to change. And I think you do, too, Evans, or you wouldn't refuse my noble gestures so vehemently."
Lily bit back the obvious retort that leapt to her tongue, the 'not if I'm a desperate housewife and Witch Weekly has named you Bachelor of the Year'. It was partly because that answer would just be rude; and partly because of something else. Something between exasperation and amusement and an incredulous acknowledgement of the complete self-confidence James Potter had in himself, even as he proposed something so complicated as another person's future feelings. And so it was that Lily Evans merely rolled her eyes, and said nothing.
Sixth Year: Tapestry
It was James' own fault that he was caught.
If he'd never slyly mentioned the passageway behind the tapestry on the second floor as somewhere 'private and cosy' they might study after Defence back at the end of fourth year, Lily wouldn't have known of its existence. Consequently, she wouldn't have made it a regular spot to inspect on her prefect rounds, and she never would have had the foresight to check it one evening in early June, to find James practically cemented to fifth year Hufflepuff Paula Gudgeon.
She'd caught many, many couples in the exact same position over the past two years, but never had one shocked her, however slightly. Teenagers would be teenagers, and if she was in a decent mood – and the couple she had sprung were not surrounded by their discarded outer layers of clothing – Lily would often simply let them off with a warning.
Not this time. At first, Lily had to get over the strange, faintly shocked state she found herself in, which stunned her in itself. It was only James Potter with a date after all; she'd seen the same thing a dozen times before.
So why did she feel like she was choking?
I took Lily a few moments to recover her ability to speak, moments which consisted of her finally admitting and putting a name to the slight flutters she'd recently had in James's presence, the way she sometimes hoped they'd run into each other about the halls, catching his eye and hoping he'd look at her with that crooked smile of his, which she'd previously treated with total disdain. Thankfully, those moments lasted for only a short time after James and Paula sprung apart. Lily considered that she wasn't exactly shaken, but she'd lost her calm demeanour, and where did James think he was going?
"Oi!" Lily snapped. "I can see you, Potter."
James stopped, dropping Paula's hand and turning back from where he'd hastily taken several steps backtracking through the passage. "Shite," he swore, but his voice contained odd undertones of amusement. "And people say you're the nice prefect."
Lily glared (she was equally angry at the strange - but recognisable - feeling in the pit of her stomach as she was at James and Paula and their ridiculously messed up hair), "I am, but I've had a crap day-" (it was a decent excuse) "my rounds partner has ditched me for O. study-" (that much was true) "and you're not the first pair of hormone-charged idiots I've come across tonight." (But they were the first to make her feel anything more than apathetic.)
Wearily, Lily closed her eyes and sighed. "Look, I've got a headache..." (she did, suddenly) "so just … get back to your common rooms. I'll just say I caught you out after curfew, so points will be docked but you won't have detentions, alright?"
James grinned. "You're fantastic, Lily."
To top things off, he was continuing the pattern he'd established over the past months by calling her by her first name. Fuck.
Paula merely gave a slight, simpering smirk, and Lily scowled again as the girl took sideways step, slipping herself under James's arm and pressing against his side.
"The relaxed sentence offer lasts only for the next five seconds," Lily glowered, "so move it, Gudgeon."
The fifth year groaned, stepping on tiptoes to kiss James on the cheek before moving past Lily with a glare. When the tapestry had flapped shut behind her, James whistled lowly, looking at Lily appreciatively.
"Wow," he said, "you can be a bitch when you want to be."
Lily's frown deepened, and she resigned herself to the knowledge that she'd be incredibly wrinkled by the time she was thirty. Somehow, though, she stopped herself from snapping, and kept her tone level. "I'll take that as a compliment."
"Good," James smiled, tucking his hands in his pockets. "I meant it as one."
Lily looked at him curiously, endeavouring to ignore the slight, but definitely present, thump thump of her heart. She sighed after a moment. "I'll never understand you."
James chuckled (there was that self-content, strangely charming look on his face, right when she least wanted to see it; bloody awful timing). "And I know that that wasn't an intended as a compliment, but I'm rather flattered, Lily. Thank you."
Lily pressed the tips of her fingers to her temples; her heart wasn't the only part of her body pounding repeatedly. "Just … get back to the Tower, okay James?"
James dramatically placed a hand over his heart. "And leave a poor defenceless witch to defend the life-threatening corridors of Hogwarts all on her lonesome?" he said, with a faux air of incredulity. "I think not. Honestly, you act like chivalry never existed."
"I know that the feminist movement is ongoing," Lily retorted, turning on her heel and leaving the passage. "So believe me when I say that I don't need your help." She hastened down the second floor corridor with the instinctive knowledge that she could go as fast as she liked; James would be following her. She quickened her step regardless. "And I'm not defenceless; I have a wand, you know."
"A minor detail," James dismissed. She could hear his footsteps a step or two behind her as she strode purposefully along the corridor. "A simple disarming spell would remove that weapon immediately."
Her wand flew out of her hand. She should have seen it coming. But this wasn't her fault or carelessness; it was all James. It was his entire ruddy fault. She might not have been especially annoyed at him before, just flustered at herself, which attributed to a slightly snappy nature, but she was furious now. Furious at James with his smug face and rubbish eyesight and stupid messy hair and ridiculously kissable lips which probably tasted like Paula Gudgeon, of all travesties.
Oh, she was maddened, because he'd progressed from getting under her skin to lately making her lose her wits around him, and it had nothing to do with her, it was James. He'd done something, changed something, and she found herself fancying him. But she cared for her pride and couldn't say so explicitly, and in a split second her quick mind resolved to express her anger at him less directly. She whirled around.
"Look here," she said dangerously, green eyes flashing. "You can't just go around snogging in public…"
"Now Lily, you know just as well as I do that that was a very private place before you burst in…"
"…Be lucky enough to be caught by someone who lets you off rather nicely …"
"...Which in itself is rather strange; do you get off on watching other people snog? …"
"…And then, not two minutes later, disarm the prefect who bent the rules in your interests …"
"…Merely proving a point; I can give your wand back, you know…"
"…Because life, believe it or not, is not the James Potter fucking joyride!"
A beat, then, "Has anyone ever told you that you're fit when you're angry?" Lily clenched her teeth to quell a wail of frustration.
"Yes, you, multiple times, which is odd considering that you've got a bloody girlfriend!"
Lily's eyes were slits, she was breathing heavily and she hated, hated the way that James was merely standing there, completely collected, still with that stupid (charming) smirk on his face, one hand in his pocket and the other holding her wand out towards her. Lily snatched the wand, and then sighed, her small body relaxing somewhat, her heart rate decreasing.
She shifted her weight, crossing her arms and scowling. "I don't like being angry at you, you know."
James shrugged, and in the torchlight of the corridor his hazel eyes looked rather kind behind his spectacles. "I know. Sorry that I always bring it out in you."
"I guess it's good that it never lasts for long."
"Yeah," James took a few slightly hesitant steps forward, until they were standing side by side. He looked at his watch. "Your rounds end in ten minutes anyway; I wouldn't be infringing upon your independent criminal catching if I'm just walking with you back to the tower."
Lily bit her lip over a smile. She turned and resumed her previous route, James keeping pace. "Just so long as you know that I am capable of doing it on my own."
"Of course you're capable; there's a now very disappointingly empty passage thanks to your heroic actions." Neither of them spoke for a moment. "That passageway is a shortcut, you know."
"I don't particularly want to go that way," Lily murmured.
They rounded a corridor, and Lily felt James slow his pace a nod once. "Yeah, I know." His voice was quiet, but she heard him clearly.
They didn't speak again until they reached the Fat Lady, and Lily was about to give the password (punctum saliens) when James caught a hold of her wrist. She looked at him in confusion. The hand not loosely holding hers was in his hair.
"Paula isn't my girlfriend," James said quickly.
"Right."
"We've just been fooling around."
"Okay." When James didn't say anything, Lily raised an eyebrow. "Congratulations?"
"I just thought … since there was a bit of confusion back there … you should know," James finished lamely. Lily rolled her eyes slightly and nodded.
"Honestly, James, it's none of my business. It's not like it affects the amount of points I'm going to deduct."
"I know, but it seemed like an important detail."
Lily considered it for a moment, considered it and the fact that he hadn't yet let go of her hand. She smiled, though she didn't want to. "Yeah, it maybe was, a little."
The next morning, Paula Gudgeon turned suddenly orange as she sipped her pumpkin juice at breakfast. Lily, through fits of giggles, swore she knew nothing about it.
Seventh Year: Blow it Up
"You know what? Fuck Hogsmeade."
"Absolutely. Rotten little village. Here's hoping it gets blown up in the very near future."
"Preferably badly."
"Yes. Good. Blow it up. Blow it up badly."
James snorted, looking over their desk in the Head's Office at a Lily more stressed than he'd ever seen her. That was a feat in itself; Lily Evans had, while studying for O. , set a desk alight from the force of her anxiety. As James remembered the incident he hastily moved several point deduction forms away from the Head Girl's elbow. She moaned, collapsing atop of her folded arms in a fluid motion, before propping her chin in her hands and blinking at him blearily.
"Care to remind me why I ever wanted this job?"
"Beats me," he replied, "I was never interested."
"Ungrateful bastard."
He drummed his fingers on the desk between them, which was covered in paperwork regarding every aspect of Law Enforcement at Hogwarts. Considering he'd always been the one the forms involved, James supposed that he really ought to be an expert on the whole business, but he honestly felt like he was drowning. It was now October, and he and Lily still hadn't gotten the knack of organising prefect schedules, communicating detention times with Filch and the Professors, dealing with Quidditch Pitch bookings, and trying to understand exactly how the point system worked.
For two people who felt like they'd been dropped in the middle of Antarctica with only a thin blanket between them, they were doing remarkably well. Despite the fact that their sleeping patterns had been seriously disrupted.
"Okay," said James, placing his palms flat on the table. "Run it by me again. We've got to have missed something."
"James," a smooth eyebrow was raised, "how could we have possibly missed anything? The Hogsmeade weekend can't be this Saturday, because –"
"It's the first Slug Club dinner, and Slughorn has asked that we don't have anything on that day."
"Right, and next week –"
"It's the opening Quidditch match of the season."
"And the week after-"
"Is the first apparition lesson of the Sixth Years."
Her brows quirked into a furrow for a moment, and it only took James a moment to realise what the action meant. She was surprised by how much he'd kept up, the prig. But then she smiled at him and gave a little nod, and he knew exactly what she was thinking.
They were a team. And a ruddy brilliant one at that. Sure, there had to be a Hogsmeade weekend before the end of the month and they hadn't yet set a date for it, but something was working between them. The girl drove him continuously crazy, and she'd always made it clear that he absolutely infuriated her, but they clicked.
He'd always known it, and he was pretty certain she now knew it too, but working together constantly had become a kind of cemented proof. If he was fourteen again, he'd be pretending to be unable to hear a word she said; would gesture in the air between them until she asked him what the bloody hell was wrong. Then he'd declare something ridiculous about sparks, or a connection, or an inseparable bond. It was a routine that had started with that Quidditch match, and had continued until she'd shoved him down the Grand Staircase. She'd apologised immediately, but looked rather satisfied when he held up a broken finger.
It was just as well he'd grown in maturity, he reflected. "Alright," he sighed, "Put it in the 'later' pile."
With a flourish, Lily obeyed, placing the Hogsmeade Weekend Request Form by itself at the far end of the table. They'd worked out the 'pile' system within the first week: 'solved', 'ongoing' and 'later'. Every issue got put into a pile as their one-on-one meetings progressed: when they'd started, they'd decided that almost every decision was too overwhelming to look at, and had wailed in unison whenever they so much as glanced at a document. The 'later' pile of parchment had almost been a foot high. Now, there were usually only one or two forms left undecided.
"Now," said Lily seriously, her voice lowered as though announcing the evening news, "on to our favourite segment of the evening: 'Dear Auntie Alice'."
'Dear Auntie Alice' was what they'd quickly dubbed the responses they had to make to the numerous weekly complaints students left under their door. While most of them regarded younger students complaining that so-and-so in their dorm was using up too much space in the bathroom, reading each and every case was a necessity, should more serious complaints regarding bullying, personal issues, or class problems arise.
Still, they made fun of them all equally through reading them aloud in gossipy tones.
"Dear Auntie Alice," Lily read, "Maggie Alistair, in the bed next to mine, hides sweets and cauldron cakes in her trunk." She looked up and grinned at him. "A moment of silence please, for the gravity of the situation."
James made a noise somewhere between a snort and a chortle, and Lily looked at him reproachfully. "Excuse me, respect those less fortunate." She cleared her throat and continued, "I really hate this because Maggie already made Justin Sherdan like her instead of me, so why should she hog all the food as well as all the boys? She never shares anything with me and I think it's really unfair."
Lily snickered, but then covered her mouth. "I shouldn't laugh; really, I miss those life-ending problems I had when I was twelve."
James raised an eyebrow. "I didn't realise me going on a date to the abandoned classroom on the third floor with Mary that one time had such an effect on you."
Lily rolled her eyes, and James grinned when she muttered something sounding suspiciously like arrogant ponce.
"Don't worry, we only played exploding snap."
Lily hummed over his response, disregarding it entirely as she reached for her quill and pulled a roll of parchment towards her. James hid the momentary spark which flashed through him, which always did when the two of them simply meshed together in a weird sort of harmony, by nodding towards her hand and the parchment below it.
"What're you writing down?"
"A reminder to stage an urgent intervention in the Ravenclaw Dorms. We can't have chocolate frog hoarders running loose."
"Chocolate frog hoarding harlots," James amended.
"Innocent until found shagging in the Astronomy Tower."
"Speaking of which…" James pulled the Marauders' Map towards him for an inspection. He'd let Lily in on the Map and his invisibility cloak on their first rounds together, stating blankly that he'd better make them known, being Head Boy and finding himself with a moral high ground. Lily had given him a furious lecture, grabbed them off him, and marched him straight to their office, where she had declared that they'd now be used for good instead of evil. They hadn't done patrols properly since.
"Anyone out and about?" Lily asked, not looking up from her scribbles.
"Nah, Sirius is by the lake with that Hufflepuff bird he's been seeing, but he gave me five galleons to let him off."
Lily made a disapproving noise through a laugh. "The authority in this school's corrupt, I tell you. Still," she continued, rolling up the parchment, "it does make life easier."
"Are we done then?" James asked, glancing at his watch.
"'Reckon so. Still got Hogsmeade to sort out, but we can sleep on it."
"Good," James stood up. "It's nearing on eleven, and I should probably start that essay on Protean Charms for Flitwick."
Lily looked up, staring at him from where she was stuffing books in her bag. "We got that essay two weeks ago." James raised his eyebrows. She rolled her eyes. "But you're you, and by now I should know you'll knock it over at 4am and still get full marks."
"Precisely." James stepped around the table, having brought nothing to the meeting himself, and made for the exit. He opened the door, and Lily slipped past him, standing just beside the exit as he locked up.
"M'lady," she bowed when he turned, gesturing for him to lead the way down the corridor. James curtseyed.
"My lord."
They didn't say anything as they walked, but fell into an easy step beside each other. The only sound was Lily's bag bouncing lightly against her hip. As they rounded the corridor to Gryffindor Tower, James threw an arm around her shoulders. They could have been best mates walking to class, or a couple taking a stroll. He desperately wanted someone to put into words which was the best fit.
They reached the portrait hole, and Lily took a step away from him, bowing in an image of her actions five minutes ago. "It was an honour to escort you to your quarters, Madame."
James laughed, "Thank you, kind sir." She gave a gentlemanly nod, and he pressed his lips to hers; gently kissed her goodnight.
He felt her lips smile against his, and she was still smiling when she stepped back a moment later. "'Night, James," she said, laughter in her voice. Then her eyes widened, and there was a sharp intake of breath.
"Wait." A hand was raised to her lips, and then it pointed vaguely in his direction. "You just kissed me."
James didn't have a reply. Her revelation was a surprise to him, too. Oh, he thought. I just kissed Evans.
"I did, didn't I?" His hand moved unconsciously to his hair, and he remembered standing in the same place four months earlier, feeling just as uncertain. "Er ..." Lily was laughing now, and he chuckled nervously, shrugging. "Sorry, it just … kind of slipped out," was his half apology.
"I didn't even notice," Lily mused, her voice seeming to come from elsewhere.
It was so like her, to put into words exactly what she – and he – was thinking; that nothing had registered as anything different. Something about that and the feel of her jumper when he wrapped an arm around her waist fuelled James with an odd sort of elation. Lily's hands slipped to the sides of his face and she kissed him, and for a few blissful seconds James was on the edge of a precipice. Her fingertips were cool against his skin, her name resounding in his head, because everything was her, and she was Lily, and nothing seemed more important or right or finally.
Then her lips left his. She was off her tiptoes, standing so close, breathing the same air, fingers dropping from his cheeks and curling gently around his collar.
"Don't be a tease, Evans," James mumbled, "I've waited a bloody long time for this, you know." He bent to press his mouth to hers again, but she placed a palm against his forehead and pushed his head away.
"What?" Merlin, he sounded like a dejected pansy.
"Save it for the first date," she said firmly. "Sod Slughorn and his stupid party."
He beamed at her, Lily Evans with the quick wit and brilliant mind. "So," he took her hand and kissed her knuckles, and maybe he'd make those few moments last until the weekend, "the First Hogsmeade weekend is this Saturday…"