James Potter walked into the Gryffindor common room with a grin on his face: they had just won the Quidditch match. Not that this should be of any surprise to the students of Hogwarts—it was nothing new that James happened to be a prodigy. With Sirius, Remus and Peter trailing behind him, he scanned the room to find a redhead.
"'Afternoon," he greeted brightly, dropping his bag next to Lily Evans as he sat down. "I believe I have won the bet."
"What bet?" Mary asked at once, eyeing the pair suspiciously.
"Nothing," Lily dismissed with a wave of her hand. "It's nothing."
James said nothing as he leaned forward in his chair, bringing his face close to Lily. Coming off as pushy was the last thing he wanted. Having had showered before he left the changingroom, he smelled of cinnamon spice, a favorite of Lily's. "After seven, then," James said in a low tone. "Next to the Quidditch pitch."
As he left, Mary threw a questioning stare at Lily's direction, only to be ignored and unanswered yet again. "Lily…."
"I'll tell you later, promise."
At a quarter till seven, Lily Evans found herself nervous, and for good reason, too. She smoothed her skirt down in the front for the hundredth time, checking her make-up in the mirror again. Mary had not given up on her mission to find out what the conversational exchange between the two former arch-enemies meant and her theory on her best friend going off to shag Mr. Potter only heightened as the day progressed.
"You know, you shouldn't layer your clothing so much, it'd be much harder to take off when—"
"Mary!"
"Sorry!"
"Do I look fine?"
"Personally, Lils, I've never seen you look better. You sure you're not about to go shag—"
"Yes, I'm sure," the redhead replied firmly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to be. If I'm not back my eight, call the Aurors." As she descended down the girls' dormitories, there were a few whistles and wolf calls, making her blush slightly. Pushing past the portrait that concealed the Gryffindor common room, Lily descended the moving staircase, careful to avoid the enchanted step. As she walked past the Great Hall, she smoothed her skirt down again. As her feet hit the soft grass, the warm breeze caressed her skin, inviting her to keep walking forward to meet a certain Chaser.
"You're late," he accused, catching sight of a thin figure coming closer. In the sunset, her hair glowed brilliantly red and her features were heightened as she came to a stop in front of him. James searched her face, aware that she'd put extra effort into her looks; at this, he smirked.
"You don't know that," Lily replied.
"I take Astronomy, I can tell time by looking at the stars," he pointed out.
Lily pursed her lips. "So… about the bet." James leaned back on an elbow and patted the spot next to him. Lily hesitantly walked forward and sat down. "You do realize that I had a bit too much sherry when I made it, right?" she said, picking on a lose string on her cardigan. "I mean, did you really think I meant that?"
"Lily Evans, alluding to the fact that I am a master Quidditch Chaser with dashing looks and the fact that you don't drink, yes, I do believe you meant that. In fact, if I do say so myself, you've been dying to make this bet." James winked and Lily silently thanked the growing darkness for concealing her blush. "Ready whenever you are."
Lily sneaked a peak at James. He most definitely was better looking than all the males at Hogwarts combined and this year, he had been more behaved than ever. And there was a weird feeling in her stomach that she hadn't felt for a while. Closing her eyes, she leaned in and pecked him softly on the lips, immediately pulling back afterwards. "There," she declared, a slow grin building on her face.
"Are you kidding me right now?" James asked in a dangerously low tone. "Is that your idea of a kiss?" Quickly—to quickly for Lily to pull back—he reached forward, and, placing one hand on her cheek and the other pulling her closer, he laid his warm lips on hers, leaving her little room to escape.
At first, Lily protested, squirming at the sudden closeness. But as the kiss deepened, she found herself letting lose, even reaching out to James and kissing him back. She could now confirm the rumors that the Head Boy was a brilliant kisser.
It might've been forever they stayed that way but neither was keeping time. All Lily knew was that by the time she returned, two things happened: one, her lips were swollen, and two, Mary was standing by the Great Hall with a grin plastered to her face. "Just in case you were wondering, Lils, it's past nine."