AUTHORS NOTE: Hi to the five people who will read this! This is my first published story, so I am open for reviews and letting me know what you think! Hope you enjoy my favourite love birds.
The crisp autumn air cut through James's sweater, the sun was warm but the breeze made it too cool for a shirt alone. He stood at Kings Cross platform 9 3/4 , a little taller than last year, hair a little shorter, and a new badge added to his robes. In the distance, he could see his three friends- Sirius sitting on his bags telling some sort of story avidly with his hands, Remus rolling his eyes, and Peter hanging on to every word that poured out of Sirius' mouth. James smirked, wondering just what kind of nonsensical story Padfoot was spitting out from his summer abroad in Europe. (The story involved a blonde girl, a beach, too much booze, and an accident with an unfortunately placed tiki torch.)
James had missed his friends over the summer. He was so busy between Head Boy prep, visiting his mum in the hospital, and trying to clear a certain kiss that happened on the last day of his sixth year from his head, that he had hardly seen them all break. Remus had stopped by the house once with some tips for being Head Boy (not being at all jealous or angry with James, which he appreciated), Sirius visited Euphemia Potter twice in the hospital before flying off to Europe, and Peter had stopped in a handful of times with some food for the Potter men still at the house in Godric's Hollow, but he never stuck around for too long.
A familiar clap on the back rose James from his trance of watching his friends catch up. His father, Fleamont, stood behind him with James's owl, Bertie, caged in his hand. "Are you ready for this year, James? It's going to be a lot different."
A sad smile crossed his father's face, he knew he meant more than just becoming Head Boy.
"Yeah, I can finally order a drink at the Hogs Head now." He threw his dad a wink with a nudge of his elbow. They shared a small laugh, not wanting to dwell on the reality of his mother's sickness, death being so imminently close around the corner. She probably wouldn't even make it to see James finish his last year at Hogwarts. She might not even make it to Christmas.
James's mother, Euphemia, had been so overwhelmed with pride when James told her he got the Head Boy badge in the mail, she immediately burst into tears in her hospital bed. This was of course after the first fifteen minutes where she thought he had forged the badge and was trying to trick her. She hugged him so tightly he swore one of his ribs cracked.
"I knew you had it in you Jamey. So smart, talented, charming, now we just need to fix the 'rule following' aspect." She gave him one of her signature looks, a stern eye, but with the same smirk James often sported. Euphemia knew of some of the trouble her son got in to, but she also knew of the heart he had and how he never did anything malicious or to harm anyone. She actually quite preferred the pranks he and the Black boy pulled, finding them quirky and genius all at once.
In the moment, she had immediately pinned the badge to his blue jumper. "Wear it proudly my boy. Give it the honour it deserves." James reciprocated the bone-breaking tight hug, and held on for maybe a second too long because he didn't want his mother to see him cry. He loved her. He hated that he had to tell her as she lay, sick, in a hospital bed.
James turned back to his father as he remincised on the memory of his mum, and embraced him with his free arm. "I love you, pop" With a simple nod, Fleamont handed over Bertie and watched his son board the Hogwarts Express for his last year.
Once on the train, James made his way to the Head compartment, hoping a certain redhead hadn't beaten him there. Cautiously opening the door, he was relieved to find it empty. He chucked his luggage in the overhead compartment and sat Bertie beside him on the seat. James looked over at his owl to find the brown barn owl sleeping, and decided to follow suit. Sleep was hard to come by for the stressed beyond belief teenager, a few minutes wouldn't hurt. Evans didn't need him for at least an hour anyway.
"Should we try smelling salts?"
"Probably saw how short Virgina Hatley's skirt was and passed out."
"Maybe if we poke him with a stick,"
"Has anyone actually checked to see if he's breathing?"
"He's not dead Padfoot, you can clearly see his chest move up and down."
"Sorry we don't all want to become healers, Moony. We're not all scholars like you,"
"You know Sirius if you applied yourself, you're quite smart, then maybe-"
"Let him rest, I don't need him for a bout a half hour anyway. Poor bloke looks exhausted."
The three friends turned to the new female voice behind them. Lily Evans leaned against the compartment doorway, looking at the sleeping James Potter with half pity, and what almost looked like admiration. The boys started to protest, but she swiftly kicked the out with one raised eyebrow, and a swift, semi-threatening, flick of her wand.
Fifteen minutes later a groggy James Potter woke. He rubbed his eyes to make sure the girl in front of him wasn't a dream. There she sat, red hair cascading over her shoulder, a pink and grey jumper tucked into a grey skirt, and over-the-knee white socks that made her legs look so long that James actually gulped.
He loved how reflective she looked as she admired the Scottish countryside whirl by. She had a notebook in her hand and James could make out some scribbles about the meeting they were about to lead. Schedules, house rules and house points, and a giant circle round what looked to be 'Ball?'
"G'afternoon, Evans,"
"Morning sleepy head," she turned to him. Her green eyes were so bright that he thought if he were standing, he would have gone weak in the knees. "I stopped your friends from prodding you with a stick by the way, you're welcome."
"Ah, yes. Thank you. I'm sure it wouldn't have been a gentle prodding either." She giggled. A real giggle. James didn't even know people actually did that.
"Sirius thought you were dead,"
James groaned. "Not the first time. After a particularly long day last year, I slept for fifteen hours. That resulted in me waking up to Sirius trying to levitate me to the hospital wing for Madame Bones to declare me dead." Another giggle. More weakness in James's knees.
"Well, I am personally glad you are alive. I really need you for this meeting." Lily's bashful tone was not uncommon to James. She was always second guessing herself, getting in her own way, not realising how talented and absolutely brilliant she was. "The prefects respect you a lot more, so I'm hoping you're okay with talking about schedules?" James nodded. He happily listened to her explain everything she wanted to go over with the rest of the group. She was nervous, he thought it was cute. Seeing how easy it was for them to handle tasks together as Head Boy and Girl made the pressure melt right off of his shoulders.
Despite all that was going on in his life, he was really hoping Lily Evans could be the one consistency he could rely on.
Lily Evans flopped onto her new four-poster bed in her new room that she had all to herself in the shared Head Boy and Girl section. Her legs were sore, she was pretty sure she smelled from all the nervous sweating, and her stomach felt weird ever since seeing James Potter sleeping in that compartment.
The meeting with the prefects had gone exceptionally well. James handled all the teasing Hogwarts' resident bad boy turned Head Boy with grace and joked back with his fellow classmates. They covered all of the schedules, monthly meetings were to be at the beginning of every month, and discussed all of the new security changes happening at Hogwarts. After it all, James offered her a chocolate frog before they went their separate ways to visit their friends.
She found the 'new' James to be refreshing. After what happened last year, she was afraid he would turn back to an arrogant ass, or that things would be incredibly awkward. However, everything was incredibly pleasant. Lily knew his mother was gravely ill, and she had a sinking suspicion that had something to do with his new behaviour. All summer she had wanted to owl him a letter, giving her condolences, but could never quite find the words. Every time she began, as soon as she wrote his name she got dizzy. It was as if her body was reliving the last day before summer all over again. She could feel the intensity of the kiss on her lips, his hand in her hair, and could almost smell that signature James Potter musk, a blend of broomstick polish, pine tree, and the faintest hint of vanilla.
Lily rubbed her eyes. The kiss had haunted her all summer. Even thinking of it now, her heart fluttered and her cheeks reddened. Lily wasn't even sure if she had real feelings for him, maybe it was just a really good kiss. All she knew now, was that living in such close quarters probably wasn't going to help her figure it out any better.
