a/n: because why not? Sometimes you need simple fluff in your life. Takes place in the summer between Sixth and Seventh-Year.

disclaimer: wait Jo Rowling is a broke college student?! Hurrah! I am she. Title from Winter Winds by Mumford & Sons.

Cokeworth, James decided, as he walked from the park where Lily had told him to Apparate to, was really rather ugly. Towering chimneys dominated the skyline and there was an ever-present smog in the air. As he walked towards Lily's road, though, the air cleared and the houses, despite being small, became more quaint. They were still terraced, but the gardens were better tended, the windows nicely painted, the - what were those things called again? - cars were better looking, even to James' Pureblood eyes.

From his pocket he retrieved the well-scrumpled piece of parchment where he had her address written and checked that he was in the correct place, and turned down her street and looked out for number 7. Once he had found it he knocked on the door.

A blonde woman with lines around her eyes and grey streaks in her hair who was wearing an apron and a smile greeted him warmly. "You must be James?" she asked, and he nodded. "Come in, pet, come in."

He had just about stepped in the house and wiped his feet on the mat when a door was flung open and Lily hurled herself at him, squealing. "Hi!" she said, the word muffled against his chest.

"Alright, Evans?" he murmured, and Lily's Mum laughed.

"Blimey, love, give the boy space to breathe!" She patted James' arm. "The kettle's just boiled, did you want tea?"

"Yes please, Mrs Evans," he said, and Lily snorted.

"Oh, call me Sally," Lily's Mum said, sweeping into the living room, and Lily mouthed Mrs Evans? at him.

"Trying to get in her good books?"

He grinned and poked her.

"You've no room to talk, Lil, since you practically threw yourself at me - not that it's the first time witches have been unable to control themselves around me, but -"

Lily rolled her eyes and dragged him into the living room. "Come on, the TV's on."

She made him sit down on the sofa and he watched wide-eyed as she made her way to the kitchen, waltzing around all the Muggle contraptions she seemed perfectly at ease with. Lily passed a strange upright thing with a bag attached to it - a vacuum cleaner? - that was sitting in the corner by the cupboard under the stairs and there was an odd black box with a moving picture on it - he was fairly sure that it was the teevy Lily had mentioned - that rested on a unit next to the fireplace.

James, contemplating repeating a year's worth of Muggle Studies, was ridiculously relieved when Lily's tabby cat slipped in through the lounge door and brushed past his feet, purring. Nelson had always meowed viciously at the black-haired boy for the first five years of their relationship, but as James and Lily had got closer over their past year at Hogwarts, the cat had quickly come to prefer James to Lily, something which irritated Lily to no end.

He rubbed his thumb against his fingers and chirruped, and Nelson jumped up onto James' lap. As Lily came back from the kitchen carrying a tea-laden tray and a plate of biscuits, she rolled her eyes.

"I might have known. Cat. Get off."

She plonked the tray on the coffee table in front of the sofa and sat next to James (rather wonderfully close, he noted - so close, in fact, that his right shoulder and arm and side and leg were touching her left shoulder and arm and side and leg) at least until she pulled her legs up and leant her head on him.

"You love me, remember?" she said, and James wasn't sure if she was talking to him or the cat and kept his mouth shut, though he couldn't keep the tips of his ears from going red at her words. "You're a fickle thing, Nelson, satisfied by base pleasures. You'll come meowing back to me in the end."

"Lil, you do know you're arguing with a cat?"

Lily nudged him with her elbow. "Yes."

She reached over him, her hair tickling his hand, and plucked a black brick off the arm of the sofa.

"It's a remote, James," she explained amusedly, noting his confused expression. "It controls the telly."

She handed James his cup of tea and snuggled into him as the theme music began to play from the TV.

He watched avidly for the first ten minutes but then became rather distracted by Lily's hair against his neck and her hand resting on his thigh, and after a moment or two of deliberation he decided that putting his arm around her would not be too forward. She sighed - happily, he thought - and the two of them settled down to watch the rest of the show.

After it had finished, Sally, winking at her daughter, left a pile of photo albums on the coffee table and told James to, by all means, please, have a look, which he did, Lily cringing into his side as he flicked through pages of pictures of her in a paddling pool, or with her knickers on her head, and he couldn't help but chuckle at a picture of her dressed as a pumpkin on Hallowe'en. As he turned the pages, it amazed him how alive she was, despite the Muggle cameras only capturing a moment in time.

His gaze landed on a picture of Lily, made up nicely and wearing a pretty lilac dress. It looked like it had been taken only recently, and he let out a low whistle.

"Bloody hell, Evans," he said. "You're gorgeous."

She giggled and looked up at him. Green met hazel and the pause had got just a little too long when she blinked twice and snapped the photo album shut, pulling him up from the sofa.

"Come on," she said excitedly. "Let me teach you something."

And so that was how they ended up sitting on the soft grass of the Evans' back garden, while she taught him how to play Here Comes The Sun on the guitar like her Dad had taught her when she was little. James couldn't get his fingers to stretch properly - it was hard, playing the guitar - and gave up, preferring to reach up and brush a wisp of hair away from her cheek and behind her ear. Her skin was warm and soft against his fingers, and he could have sworn he saw the faintest of blushes creeping across her face at his touch.

"Lil," he whispered, and he swallowed. "Can I kiss you?"

She blinked at him again, a slow smile spreading across her face. Biting her lip, she said softly, "If you want."

And he leaned a little closer to her, fingers still resting lightly against her cheek, and one of her hands curled against his chest, and their lips had brushed for a mere moment when -

"Lily! James!" called Sally, leaning out of the kitchen window. "Lunch is ready!"

As they passed her to get their sandwiches - cheese and ham for him, cheese and pickle for Lily - James felt sure the older woman had a twinkle in her eye.

They went back out in the garden after they'd eaten, lying on their backs in the grass, pointing out cloud creatures to each other and talking about nothing, and James was sure he had never felt more content in his life. As the light began to fade and afternoon melted into evening, James wrapped his arms around Lily and kissed the top of her head.

"Thanks for inviting me over, Lily."

"It's alright," she said, fingers playing with the hem of his T-shirt sleeve. "Thanks for coming."

He snorted and said, "Well...", and she punched him, dissolving into giggles herself.

"James!"

"Sorry," he said, chuckling and not sounding sorry in the slightest.

"And on that note, Mr Potter," Lily said, smiling at him, "I think it might be time for you to leave."

He brought a hand to his chest and gasped. "You're kicking me out?"

"Yes," she said unashamedly, and stood, reaching her hands out to pull him up. He stumbled into her and she clung onto him for much longer than he thought necessary, but it wasn't as though he minded.

"Thanks for having me, Mrs E," he called as Lily led him through the house, and Sally laughed.

"Any time, love. You're very welcome to come back - I know Lily enjoys your company."

"Mum!" Lily closed the living room door with a snap. "Sorry," she said, and James delighted in noticing the pink in her cheeks.

"That's alright. I know I'm irresistible."

"Modest too," she returned dryly, as he slipped his shoes on.

She opened the front door and leant against the frame as he stepped out.

"S'later, Evans," he said, grinning, and raised a hand in a wave.

"Don't I get a kiss, Potter?" she asked coyly, twirling the end of her plait around a finger.

He chuckled and pressed his lips to hers, only he tilted his head a little too much and kissed the corner of her mouth instead. She still had her eyes closed as he turned away down the garden path, face hot, and he heard her give a small sigh. Something tugged in his gut so he stopped suddenly.

"Lil!" he called, looking back at her, heart pounding in his ears. A hand in his hair, he licked his lips. "Lily. Wait. I'm sorry. I'm an idiot. A complete prat. It's just, you have to understand that whenever I'm around you I go crazy and I don't know what to say or what to do without making a complete fool of myself - Merlin, I can't even kiss you properly. I apologise, now, for the fact that you have such a tosser of a friend but I really really like you and I'd like to take you out somewhere, maybe, before we go back to school -"

It took him a second to realise that her lips were on his again - she was kissing him, Lily was kissing him - and he wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her to him. Her hands came to rest at the base of his neck, fingers in his hair and running along the edge of his T-shirt, and his crept under the frilled edge of her blouse to drum against her skin.

"James," she murmured, and his name had never sounded so good, all breathless and longing and Lily. He wasn't really sure how his name could sound like Lily, but it did, and it was wonderful. He pulled back from her slightly, taking in the pink streaked high on her freckled cheeks, the twinkle in her eyes. "James, I really really like you too, you dolt."

He grinned at her. "Yeah?"

She laughed, the melodic sound tinkling in the air between them, and cupped his cheek with her hand. "Yeah."

And then they were kissing again, and it was all new and crazy and exciting and -

"Lily Evans!"

"Shit!" she breathed, disentangling herself from James, who was reluctant to let go of her. He kept her hands in his as she spun to face the woman he presumed was a neighbour.

"Hi, Mrs Roberts! How are you? Lovely weather."

"Hm." The old lady pursed her lips, placing down the empty milk bottles she was holding on her front step. "I don't want to see you...canoodling, young lady, or I'll be telling your mother."

"Yes, absolutely," Lily replied, and James fought to hold back a snort of laughter. "No more canoodling."

Mrs Roberts went back into her house with a last disapproving glance at the young pair and when Lily glanced at him, he smirked.

"That's a no to snogging again, then?"

She looked at him as if he was insane. "Don't be ridiculous," she scoffed. "Now that we've ascertained that you can kiss me properly - rather brilliantly, in fact - I never want you to stop."

Her voice, always strong and confident, wavered at the end, as if she was unsure whether he'd want to stop kissing her. Really, had he ever heard anything more stupid?

James took her face in his hands and leant down so his lips brushed hers as he spoke, and his voice - unknowingly, of course - was doing that deepening thing that it always did whenever he was around Lily, the amazing irritating beautiful impulsive imperfectly perfect person that she was. "That, Evans, can be arranged."

He could have sworn that she shivered then, and he kissed her again, and he never wanted to stop, and when he did, he never let go of her hand.