A/N: Written for HP Ship Weeks over on Tumblr. I don't even know how to describe this fic other than that I love it and apparently no premise is too strange to write.
The M rating is for language and sexual content. it gets a little explicit at parts, but it's not a smut fic by any means.
"Stop it," James said for what felt like the hundredth time but was actually the first.
"Stop what?" Sirius asked before tossing a balled up page of newspaper at the trash bin on the other side of the street.
"You're being a public nuisance," James said.
Sirius looked pointedly around the near-empty street. The only people around were brisk-walking suits and families out for a stroll. None of them were paying Sirius or his newspaper game any mind.
Truthfully, James was just bored, and his boredom was manifesting in easy irritation with everyone around him. He'd never developed the skills necessary for coping with a boring life. Normally, a few minutes of indecisive boredom was all it took for him to leap to his feet and set off on making things happen. There were two types of people in this world: the kinds who waited and the kinds that made magic. James fell solidly in the latter category and not just because he was a wizard.
The heat was too oppressive to make plans though, and Remus and Peter were both off at their jobs or whatever. It left James and Sirius alone in the baking sun with all fun things to do in this shitty little town already exhausted. Boredom was, for once, inescapable.
"There's got to be a public pool around here," James tried.
"You need a membership," Sirius said idly.
James was four seconds away from suggesting that they flout the law and confound any muggles necessary to get access to the water. No court in the world would convict them when their barrister revealed it had been thirty-eight degrees when James and Sirius had used magic to break into the pool. There were statutes in place for life-threatening situations such as these.
"Sweating my balls off," Sirius said.
James nodded.
A few more minutes passed in silence while Sirius continued to rip his muggle newspaper into shreds and aim the debris at the bin. He only stopped when the last page – a silly piece of muggle nonsense containing completely inaccurate Horoscopes, the kind that made hacks like Sibyl Trelawney look legitimate – was tossed as well.
"We could go to the dog park," Sirius suggested.
"We don't have a dog," James pointed out.
James was on his feet before the wicked smile had even finished stretching across his friend's face.
The muggles of Cokeworth were not nearly as oblivious to these two interlopers' presence as Sirius assumed. With raised eyebrows that spoke volumes of judgment, they had noted the two ill-fitting barely-men who had taken up residence on the curb. How could they not do a double-take at the handsome youth wasting his good looks with that battered jacket and hair that practically screamed good-for-nothing wastrel? How could they not take note of his messy-haired friend whose expression promised nothing but trouble?
Through the corners of their eyes and the reflective windows of the shops on the street, the residents of Cokeworth watched as the two boys sprinted away with an urgency that had been missing from their sluggish forms all morning. One or two natives placed startled hands to their hearts as they caught sight of a large, shaggy dog – the kind of dog that haunted their nightmares that brought to mind abandoned graveyards and the forbidding, ever-present creep of death – where they could have sworn one of the rowdy boys had just stood. It was almost as if the boy had transformed into the dog that now joyously ran alongside the bespectacled one. Such things weren't possible, of course, so they put it from their minds. It was a trick of the light, a delusion brought on by the sweltering summer heat.
The strange and mysterious simply didn't belong in a place like Cokeworth, better relegated to the urban centers like Manchester, or heaven-forbid London. Then again, good-looking ruffians like those two didn't belong in a place like Cokeworth either, and it was with a sigh of relief that their departure was greeted by the nervous residents on the street.
For Lily, finding a way to appreciate life's many pleasures was not just a desire but a moral obligation. She'd seen firsthand how her parents wasted their few years on earth, worrying about money and petty work politics, and ultimately dying because their hearts hadn't been able to withstand all that pressure. Two separate heart attacks, three weeks apart. It was a real modern day love story: corporate Romeo & Juliet.
It had been at their funerals that she'd promised to live an entirely different type of life. At Hogwarts, she'd been as proper as any parent could hope for, earning a bevy of OWLs and Head Girl, but the time for perfection was long over.
Her sister had been horrified when following their parent's deaths, Lily had chopped her hair short and announced that she was going to take some time to travel rather than going straight into further education. In Petunia's eyes, Lily had transformed from a freak to a failure, which was undoubtedly worse. Struggling to explain just what Lily got up to at that boarding school of hers was a preferable dilemma when now Petunia was able to tell her future-in-laws exactly how Lily spent her time: reading socialist drivel and sketching tattoo ideas in her notepad. That she had to call Lily her sister was a travesty.
Lily was equally dumbfounded by her sister's choices. Vernon Dursley was a grotesque human being, sure to do nothing but prey on Petunia's worst side and drag her down into depravity with him. Depravity here being suburban boredom. In Lily's opinion, at least the sinners had some fun.
It wasn't like she was still a "drain on society" as Petunia liked to call it. Her hair had grown long once more, and she was enrolled in a Potions program designed specifically for students interested in expanding their skills of invention. After a year of classes, she'd be assigned to a Potion's Master and complete an apprenticeship. It was the wizarding equivalent of uni, and really, Petunia had no place to judge.
The only issue was money. The program wasn't terribly expensive, but living was. It had been by mutual agreement that the Evans sisters decided to part ways. Sharing the house, no matter how many spare bedrooms it boasted, had been a cramped situation for both of them. Lily's current shoebox of a flat felt spacious in comparison.
It, however, required money. So too did food and beer and knee-high boots. Lily had a job, of course, to take care of her expenses, but waitressing only just covered her cost of living. Every luxury, every want, had to be abandoned if she wanted to survive.
Lily's monetary woes were the reason she was in the park that afternoon in the first place. A lot could be said for public parks and how they provided the public a free source of entertainment, but that wasn't the appeal for Lily. No, she was there three times a week solely for the dog park.
An avid animal lover, Lily was unable to afford to care for a dog in addition to herself, so Lily had been forced to settle for the free alternative. Curled up on one of the provided benches, Lily watched as an absolute furball of a shitzu growled at a Labrador three times its size and against the odds managed to cow it into submission. A golden-retriever, not yet even a year old, ran frenetically up and down the enclosure, stopping to race around every dog it encountered, tongue lolling out of its mouth, and then running on forward. An ancient border collie trotted leisurely along the edges, head cocked serenely to the side to watch the trees.
Plain and simple, it was heaven on earth.
The dog park was, of course, reserved for respectable dog owners. Lily was decidedly breaking the rules just by entering, but these were the types of arbitrary rules that Lily have vowed to no longer heed when her parents died, so she didn't let it stop her. Most of the dog owners couldn't have cared less, and those that did usually just settled for disapproving glares, which were hardly going to kill her.
There had been one older man that had screamed at her for it once. Lily had worried he was going to pass out from the heat and the energy he spent spitting in her face. She'd been saved by the owner of the cowardly Labrador who had lied and said Lily was there as a guest. The spiteful man – Mr. O'Grady – had been left with no choice but to leave her alone. He was there today, sending her dirty looks from the opposite end of the park.
Cheekily, Lily blew a kiss in his direction. The way he darkened and spluttered was all the satisfaction she could hope for in life.
When James and Sirius entered the dog park, Lily didn't notice because she was too busy cooing over a spectacularly ugly pug that was strutting in front of her, eating up her endless praise. Her former classmates didn't see her at first either, and it was only after a good ten minutes of frolicking on their part that they drifted to her side of the park and noticed her for the first time.
"James!"
"Lily!"
Lily was frankly astonished to see James there in the dog park. The last time she'd seen him was on the Hogwarts Express as they left their school days behind them forever. He looked good – tan and he hadn't lost any of his Quidditch muscles.
At her surprised greeting, James came jogging towards her with an enthusiastic smile. He'd always liked her at Hogwarts, even when she couldn't stand to occupy the same room as him, he'd liked her. Seventh year had done wonders for their relationship, and while she wouldn't call him a friend, Lily wouldn't call him an enemy either. So it was that she realized that she was happy to see James Potter.
Well, so long as he wasn't there to confess his undying love for her or something equally pathetic. Though Lily might have developed a bit of a crush on him in their past few weeks at Hogwarts – she'd argue it was nearly impossible not to – she still had standards about what was acceptable behavior. Until she learned his true motives, she'd have to be on guard because she honestly didn't put it past him.
"What are you doing here?" Lily asked.
Before James could form the words, the answer appeared in the form of an enormous beast of a dog that came barreling into her legs. He was beautiful, big and strong and everything a dog ought to be. All of Lily's claims that love at first sight was rubbish were proven wrong when she looked into the dog's big, brown eyes.
"Is he yours?" Lily cried, delighted, hands disappearing into his thick fur as she gave the dog before her a thorough rub down.
"Oh…um…yeah, err – this is Padfoot," James said awkwardly.
Lily lowered herself to her knees on the pavement, so that she could place a kiss on his shaggy head.
Looking Padfoot directly in the eye, Lily sing-songed, "You're just beautiful. But you already know that? Don't you? Don't you, you beautiful, beautiful boy!"
"Please, stop," James said, sounding pained. "You're going to give him a big head."
"Your dog, have a big head? Sounds like a perfect match," Lily said, ignoring his instructions entirely.
Padfoot rolled over onto his back, and Lily went to work on his belly. The hair was soft and thin there, and Padfoot seemed to enjoy it immensely. The dog was practically frothing at the mouth at her attention. It was almost like Padfoot wasn't used to receiving affection, which was awful. Lily wouldn't have pegged James as a neglectful pet owner.
"What are you doing here?" James asked.
"I grew up here as in the town, and I'm here, as in the park, because I'm dog-watching," Lily answered. "The real question is, what are you doing here?"
"Oh, the boys and I rented a flat in town for the summer. Remus got a job here at some muggle shop, and since the rest of us can just apparate, we figured we'd better move closer to his work," James explained.
Lily frowned, not because she was unhappy to hear that he was essentially her new neighbor but because it was entirely bizarre to picture James as a resident of Cokeworth. He seemed too big somehow, like it would require a city to contain him. Even the dog park looked smaller now that James was there, though to be fair, that may have been more due to the fact that she was crouching on the ground and staring up at him than any charisma on his part.
"You should come by and see it sometime. The flat, I mean," James said, running a hand through his hair.
Padfoot licked her hand playfully, and Lily giggled. "If this good boy is there absolutely. I can't believe you have a dog like this. Honestly, I always assumed you'd be like, a cat person for some reason."
"Me? Cats?" James said loudly. "I hate them. In fact, I wish every cat in the world would just roll over and die already. Me! Cats!"
Lily stared at him like he was in danger of massacring her and the entire park before he settled down a bit. Seven years of James believing himself to be in love with her had taught her that he could be adorably awkward in her presence, so she decided to let it go. If he was really a cat murderer though, they were going to have problems.
Lily adored all animals.
James joined her on the bench and they watched fondly as Padfoot frolicked amongst the other dogs. Like his owner, Padfoot had a talent for causing trouble and managed to cause upheaval wherever he went. Lily was frankly shocked with the level of intelligence he demonstrated, managing to spot out all the other dogs' greatest weaknesses and exploit them in a way that almost looked strategic.
With his arm stretched out behind her on the bench, James' hand hovered mere centimeters away from her side. It was perfectly natural, she decided to be so hyper sensitive to his proximity, as she hadn't dated anyone in absolute ages, and James, despite his many faults, was remarkably good looking. If he tried to wrap it around her in a friendly gesture, Lily probably wouldn't even knock it aside.
"So what are you up to?" James asked casually.
Lily shrugged, eyes still on Padfoot, "I'm in a Potions program, and I work, like twenty hours a week."
"'Where do you work?"
Lily eyed him suspiciously, not sure whether giving out her place of employment was a good idea. Only, then she couldn't figure out why she would be opposed to the idea of James stopping in every once in a while. It felt like the kind of thing that should bother her, but honestly, the thought of seeing him on a regular basis was kind of nice.
Searching for a legitimate reason, Lily settled on the fact that he'd probably get her fired somehow. James would play some stupid prank that she took the fall for or distract her often enough that her managers sent her packing.
James seemed to follow her train of thought because he rolled his eyes and said, "It's not like I'm going to start stalking you. Lighten up, Evans."
Deciding he was right, Lily told him about the shop where she worked and her mad boss and even madder customers. Never having needed to work a day in his life, Lily didn't think James entirely followed, but he laughed a lot and helped her come up with mean nicknames for her coworkers – soufflé for Anne who wore shoes three sizes too small so the tops of her feet puffed over her shoes like miniature soufflés. With all the fun they were having, Lily figured understanding was overrated.
They'd been talking for twenty minutes when Lily realized she hadn't been looking at Padfoot or any of the other precious dogs at all. James' bright, familiar face had stolen her attention entirely.
It was the reason why, when it began to drizzle, she said, "I really would like to see your flat sometime. Of course, as long as Padfoot is there."
Padfoot trotted back toward them and bumped his head into Lily's knee. Obediently, Lily began to pet behind his ears, but her eyes were still trained on James, awaiting his response.
"Yeah! Of course, I mean…Padfoot loves you so much, so…," James said.
Everyone rushed out of the fenced off area and to their parked cars, desperate to escape the rain. They were always running to avoid trouble even when it was merely a few drops of water, nothing more harmless than a shower. Lily, despite her desire to live life free of society's expectations, made her departure too.
It was why no nosy bystander was there to watch the hooligan and his friend, suddenly reappeared as if he'd been hiding behind a tree this entire time, as he stood in the rain and watched the girl run away. He stood there, wet and unmoving, for a long time.
Cheers erupted as the window unit stuttered into life and shot cool streams of air towards the triumphant flat mates. Sirius and Remus threw their arms around each other for a congratulatory hug, only to trip backwards mere seconds later because it was still far too hot for human contact, and James finally pulled his head out from the muggle icebox in which he'd been hiding and refusing to help.
"I'd say we did a pretty bang up job, lads!" James declared, earning dirty looks from Remus and Sirius who had shouldered all the work.
Peter tried to edge his way in front of the refreshing blast, but Remus knocked him aside and said, "People who didn't help go last."
James crept behind Sirius to try to catch the tail-end of the cool air. Annoyed, Sirius elbowed him in the gut, but he did so only half-heartedly and didn't make him move away. James, having been counting on Sirius's inability to tell him no, smiled.
"Well, at least one thing's sorted before Lily comes over," Remus sighed.
Their eyes drifted around their flat. Their flat that they'd managed to wreck in the two weeks they'd been living there. Half-eaten cartons of food cluttered around the sink. The table tilted steeply to the left because they'd broken off one of the legs and had to replace it with a stack of books – they'd been too drunk to repair it with magic and by morning the leg had gone missing. Their socks littered the floor and left a stench that a guest would find hard to ignore.
"Maybe Lily won't mind it," James said hopefully.
It was the day of her visit, and though James had been eagerly counting down the days since seeing her at the dog park, he hadn't really done much in the way of preparation.
Remus shot him a baleful look at his foolish hopes, already snapping on a pair of plastic gloves. Their mess was fine to live in, but to touch it with the human hand would apparently be unthinkable.
They all set to work except Sirius who chose to contentedly spin around in one of their swiveling bar stools. Aided by magic, cleaning up wasn't too strenuous a process. Really they were all just too lazy to bother normally. Lily Evans coming to visit, however, was as far from a normal occasion as any of them could imagine, so 'needs must' became the mantra of the afternoon.
Elbow deep in soapy water as he scrubbed at their mountain of dishes, Peter demanded, "Why doesn't Padfoot have to help?"
"Because," Sirius said smugly. "I'm already doing the most important job. Isn't that right, Prongs?"
James answered that it was. He couldn't possibly introduce Lily to his flat sans dog. Especially after making that stupid, fucking crack about murdering cats, she'd probably think he offed his own dog or something.
"Where exactly are we pretending Sirius is off gallivanting during all of this?" Remus shouted over the roar of the vacuum he'd just started up.
"Tell her I've entered a motorcycle racing competition," Sirius said eagerly. "Wait! No! Tell her I've already won, and I'm training for the finals!"
"Lily's too smart to believe you're a professional motorcycle racer," James said.
Lily had an excellent bullshit meter. As Head Girl, she'd been their greatest adversary, always able to sniff out when they were up to trouble. Well, except she clearly hadn't noticed anything funny about Padfoot, James thought, but then he shook his head and his doubts flew away. Lily was right clever, and he'd fight anyone who said differently. Even himself.
"Your bike's parked out front, Sirius. Lily'll see it when she comes in," Remus said, putting an end to Sirius's fantasies of racing glory. "We'll just tell her you met a bird."
Sirius muttered his displeasure under his breath but didn't argue any further. Honestly, it was the most sensible explanation as Sirius spent almost all the time he wasn't with the Marauders on one date or another. The man was blessed. He couldn't go to the supermarket without being chatted up by the cute boy behind the register. If he want for a run, he'd come back with at least three girls' numbers and invitations for drinks.
When they were younger, James had experienced a momentary pang of insecurity at Sirius's romantic successes, only heightened by the fact that the only girl James wanted wouldn't give him the time of day. But no longer. Because it was James who Lily-fucking-Evans was coming to see. Well, and Padfoot…and, technically speaking, Remus and Peter too, but James was the principal draw. With such a momentous ego boost, James was in grave danger of reverting entirely to the brazen arrogance of his early teen years. He'd never felt so confident.
"Did you see how fit she looked?" James asked for the hundredth time that day. "Her legs in those little shorts were just…wow."
"Yes, yes, Lily is very hot. Now can you please focus on the cleaning?" Remus groused, prompting James to resume his forgotten task of putting all their used cans into recycling.
As much as they complained, all of the Marauders were very excited for Lily's visit. She would be the first guest – other than their parents the day they moved in – to see their flat and the lives they'd built there. Going from seeing dozens of their peers every day to just each other was a strange adjustment. Having a friendly face from Hogwarts, especially one with long legs and soft skin, was more than welcome.
If it meant they had to clean for a few hours, then so be it.
"You don't think she'll eventually get suspicious of never seeing Sirius and Padfoot in the same room, do you?" Peter asked. "She won't like that you lied."
James dropped the cans he was holding into the bin in exasperation. The last thing he needed was Peter's negativity, except it wasn't exactly negativity was it? In fact, Peter's way of thinking was positively optimistic, James thought jubilantly. Lily would have to come around a lot before Sirius's absence struck her as strange. James could only hope to see the day.
"No way," Sirius said. "Her mind won't make the connection. If she couldn't figure out that this one – " Sirius gestured at Remus, " – is a werewolf after he became inexplicably ill every full moon, then she's not going to realize I can turn into a dog. She's not that bright."
"Hey!" James shouted, offended though he couldn't really fault Sirius's logic.
There was no need to worry, he assured himself. Their plan was full-proof, and tonight was going to be perfect. Nothing could possibly go wrong.
They were almost finished with the cleaning with twenty minutes to spare before Lily was set to arrive, when Peter's anxious voice ruined it all, "Did anyone remember to start the roast?"
A beat of silence followed his words. Then three voices intoned: "Fuck!"
She was late. Terribly and unforgivably late.
Soufflé had refused to take over her tables, so Lily had been left with no choice but to wait until the eight-person dinner party from Hell that had taken up residence in her section had eaten every crumb of their entrees.
And desert.
And finished their coffee.
She was very late.
Lily knocked on the door and startled when it immediately flew open like someone had been peering through the peephole in preparation for her arrival. On the other side was Peter Pettigrew, practically bouncing up and down with excitement.
"You came," Peter breathed with enough relief in his tone to let Lily know they'd given up on her. "James! Lily's here!"
"Yeah, sorry. I got caught up at work," Lily explained, trying to edge into the flat through the narrow space left between the doorway and Peter's unyielding body.
She managed to squeeze inside and stood at the entryway to study her surroundings. The flat was shockingly presentable with less evidence of magic than she would have expected after visiting the McKinnon's the summer after sixth year and learning what a typical wizarding household looked like. The most striking feature was the flat's eerie neatness. Lily made a mental note to never invite them over to her place, which, at any given point in time, had at least two loads of laundry strewn about the floor, as clearly one of the boys was a neat freak.
"Hey, Lily! Glad you could make it," James said, bounding out from one of the bedrooms with Padfoot in tow. Since she'd seen him last, he'd grown the stirrings of a beard, and she wondered if this scruff was meant to impress her. (It did.)
Lily mentally chastised herself for assuming that James still tailored his actions with her in mind. Maybe he just let it grow out frequently now. Honestly, they hadn't seen each other in over a year before this week, and he probably had some other girl he worried about dazzling now.
She would be disappointed if he did.
"Hello, lovely," Lily cooed, bending down to greet Padfoot.
She was thrilled to find the dog not only remembered her, but remembered her fondly. Slobbering all over her hand, Padfoot gave her a more wholehearted greeting than James could ever hope to and then licked her face for good measure.
Emerging from the kitchen, Remus made his hellos and then announced that dinner was on the table. Lily spared a glance for the strangely artsy table, what with its mix-matched legs, before deciding it must have been a gift from one of their more tasteful and art-conscious mums.
"Has Padfoot already eaten?" Lily asked James.
Padfoot barked as if to confirm he had not and gazed up at her with the very definition of puppy-dog-eyes.
dog-eyes.
"Err…he can have some scraps, I guess," James said like he wasn't very sure.
Lily could sympathize. Training a dog not to beg at the table was a heartbreaking exercise. How could a person possibly say no to such a pure, generous creature? They all settled in to eat, and Lily carved a thick slice of her roast beef just for Padfoot.
It was nice to see her fellow Gryffindors again. There was something surreal about the fact that the Marauders of all people were hosting her for an informal dinner party, of course, but the strangeness didn't lessen her enjoyment.
While Remus filled her in on his office job, James poured her a glass of wine. It was rich and zesty and Lily polished it off far too quickly. Fortunately, James and the bottle were there at the ready. The room buzzed pleasantly as her consciousness adjusted to the alcohol.
To Lily's delight, James turned out to be something of a connoisseur of wine. His deep voice rang pleasantly in her ear as he explained something about undertones and average rainfall. She wasn't at all embarrassed to admit, at least within the comfort of her own mind, that something in her clenched with pleasure at the way his tongue wrapped around the wine's French name.
His friends were less impressed.
"I'm going to fall asleep in my wine any minute if we don't change the subject," Remus said, words dripping with sarcasm.
"Just because you don't know anything about wine," James grumbled.
"No. Just because I'm not pretentious," Remus corrected, succeeding in silencing James on the topic of wine for the rest of the night.
They didn't stop drinking it though, and by her third glass Lily felt truly content. This here was the type of feeling she now lived her life in pursuit of. She felt hyper-present, not succumbing to distractions or worry but rather focused on nothing but the good company. She decided she could become used to her new neighbors.
Padfoot, still hungry, interrupted the meal by making a move to steal James' pudding right off his spoon. Flustered, James tried to yank his spoon out of the dog's mouth, but Padfoot clamped his teeth around the metal and held tight.
Lily couldn't tell if she was more amused or appalled at this evidence that James' dog was in desperate need of obedience training. Humor won out when James started cursing liberally and stood up to try and gain more leverage with which to free his spoon. Lily joined Remus and Peter in laughing uproariously at their friend's plight.
"You should set out some proper dog food," Lily advised, looking around for where they kept the dog bowl.
"Dog food?" James said in a bizarrely nervous tone.
"Yeah, where's his bowl?"
"Peter, you did the dishes earlier," James said slowly. "Where's Pads' bowl?"
You would have thought James was interrogating him with the way Peter began to visibly sweat. Lily watched, repulsed and confused, as a bead of liquid nerves rolled down Peter's chin and landed in his pudding.
"Umm…I lost it," Peter said.
Looking around, Lily noticed that there were none of the items one would expect at a dog owner's home visible in the apartment. There was no leash by the door. No haphazardly strewn chew toys. No dog food.
"You do have a dog bowl, right?" Lily asked, suddenly suspicious.
She had no idea what she could possibly be accusing them of, but she trusted her instincts enough to know something wasn't right. Padfoot began to frantically nudge against her knee, but Lily only absently pet his head, still focused on the mystery at hand.
"Of course we have a dog bowl!" Remus chimed in. "Didn't you hear Peter? He lost it."
This story sounded no more convincing coming from Remus's mouth. Before their terrible lying could continue, James dropped his head into his hands and confessed everything.
"Fuck, this is embarrassing," James groaned.
"Just tell me, Potter," Lily ordered in a voice that brooked no argument. Privately, she called it her McGonagall voice.
"We only got Padfoot two weeks ago, and we haven't gotten around to buying him all the stuff he needs yet. Okay? We're shite owners, and we've been letting him eat out of a human bowl like animals."
Lily relaxed back into her chair, a tension that she hadn't realized had been building at the thought James might be tricking her releasing in a whoosh. He needn't have felt so ashamed. His explanation and the way his ears tinted red were adorable.
Lily told him as much, well, minus the part about him being cute. Her words acted as a signal for the three Marauders, and they all settled down as well.
"You really ought to buy him a leash though," Lily told them. "Padfoot's pretty well-behaved in public, but people in this town are sticklers for things like that. If you're not careful, you'll be cited."
"We'll buy everything first thing tomorrow, or rather, once I get off work," Remus assured her.
Lily waved him off. "No worries. I'm free tomorrow. I'd be more than happy to help James pick some things out."
"Really?" James asked.
"Absolutely. I feel like it's my responsibility to transform you into a proper pet owner," Lily said, placing a hand to her heart for dramatic effect.
"Why don't you have a dog, Lily?" Remus asked.
They all moved into the living room, while Lily unashamedly shared her monetary woes. Remus and Peter understood perfectly what she described. James, meanwhile, clucked his tongue sympathetically as she listed all of the luxuries she was forced to forgo – hot water being the worst of them.
James settled down on the couch and, emboldened by the wine and transfixed by his stubble, Lily curled up right alongside him. He stiffened as Lily laid her head against his shoulder – ridiculously, erotically hard like she always knew it would be. James glanced around as if panicked.
Feeling crestfallen at this undeniable proof that James was officially over her, Lily began to shift further down the couch. With the uncanny reflexes that made him such a storied Quidditch player, James' arm wrapped around her shoulders and brought her solidly back against his body.
Remus tried and failed to hide a chuckle in his wine glass.
Padfoot climbed up onto the couch alongside them and sprawled out across James legs. His head buried against her hip. The weight of him was as comforting as a blanket, and Lily felt her drowsiness multiply.
Through the drapes – because the Marauders were fucking adults who owned drapes apparently – the setting sun gleamed brightly, playing matchmaker by encouraging Lily to turn away from its blinding rays and face James instead. Drowsily, she studied his face. It was a face she'd liked at Hogwarts long before she grew to like its owner with dark lips almost the shade of a plum or, she realized, the color of the wine that had her feeling so contemplative. She wondered if they would taste as good.
"I'm glad I ran into you at the park," James said quietly, and even though everyone could hear him, it felt like he was speaking just for her.
"I'm glad as well," Lily said.
There was so much more she could have said – about how she'd come to fancy him at Hogwarts, how she felt she'd changed so much since their sending up and yet the wanting of him was so familiar and still fit with the person she had become, about how nice it would feel if he'd rub his stubble against her cheek – but she kept silent. The moment spoke for itself, and they had nothing but time to share their confessions.
James, a man who normally thrived in the outdoors, had never been so ready to see the end of a summer. It wasn't a matter of the heat, though James would swear he heard his skin start to sizzle like a frying egg the other day. No, his seasonal desperation could be chalked up entirely to his new mate, Lily Evans.
Since their dinner at his flat, Lily had spent nearly every day in the company of James and the other Marauders. Sometimes she would just stop in for a quick chat and then had to rush off to class, but there were other days where they would all go to the pub and talk politics for hours or they'd spend the night playing board games until they fell asleep on the couch.
In many ways, it was heaven.
It was also very platonic.
James had actually started to mark down the days until the weather would change in his calendar because he figured being friends with Lily would be a lot easier once she was forced to bundle up a bit. The girl really had no idea what she could do to a bloke. Honestly, her penchant for candy pink halter tops and teeny, white shorts was criminal. He'd become so familiar with the mapping of freckles on her shoulders that, the other day, he'd absent-mindedly doodled the pattern in one of his Quidditch mags without realizing it.
Today was no different. Lily had come over even though he'd warned her that the others would be out because she said she couldn't stand to go another day without seeing Padfoot – it had been exactly forty hours since they'd last hung out. Her outfit today was exceptionally painful, and he wasn't sure whether he ought to feel grateful to be graced with such a lovely image or miserable that he had to live without touching her. When she'd entered the flat and experienced the drop in temperature, two tiny indents had pressed against the negligible fabric that she called a top, revealing that she wasn't wearing a bra, and James had been forced to escape to the kitchen before he embarrassed himself.
"What kind of wine would you like?" James called out from the kitchen, his words somewhat muffled as he was bent, head buried in one of the cabinets.
"I think I'm in the mood for something sweet," Lily's voice answered huskily from the living room where he'd left her playing with Padfoot.
James grimaced. He didn't like to think of himself as a wine snob, but…sweet was just unforgivable. He wasn't even sure whether they owned a sweet bottle of wine. Certainly, James had never purchased one for himself. Ultimately, he was able to scrounge up a shudder-inducingly cheap bottle of wine from Peter's cupboard. He'd hidden it to escape James' judgmental eye, but James managed to root out his hiding spot in a matter of seconds.
He walked back in holding two mugs and the bottle. "I'm not bringing wine glasses because honestly this," he gestured to the bottle, "is an insult to wine. I'm not even sure it can be called wine. Grape juice…maybe."
"I think grape juice might have more of a sting to it," Lily said, eyeing the bottle with equal distaste.
"Hey, you're the one who wanted something sweet," James defended.
Lily could make a roll of her eyes look violent.
"James, bring your face over here."
Oh…oh! James' brain worked faster than it ever had before in his life as it made the leap to what Lily could be implying. Trying to manage his expectations, which was an impossible endeavor anyway, James inched along the couch until the distance between them was insignificant. He kept his hands by his sides, fidgety though they were, and waited because he wanted Lily too much to trust himself. He'd probably just misinterpreted her meaning and she was going to wipe a bit of schmutz off his face or something equally platonic and –
Any internal speculation on Lily's motives disappeared when she leaned forward and let her nose graze along his, bopping the rim of his glasses affectionately. They parted for one eternal moment. James studied her face. This was the face of a Lily Evans who had never been kissed by him. In a moment, that would no longer be true, and he wanted to remember how she looked now with the freckles newly blooming across her nose from a day in the sun and the pinkness of her scalp as her ponytail sat high on the crown of her head. James wanted to remember everything.
He kissed her then, and it was everything he always imagined it would be.
Technically speaking, a good kiss was a good kiss. It was hardly like Lily broke out a move with her tongue that exceeded the depths of his imagination. (At fourteen, James' imagination had been very inventive). No, it was the weight they granted the kiss that made it so special.
It was slow, tentative as James tried to measure how she responded to the brush of his lips against hers. If James' kiss was a question, Lily's was an answer and a positive one at that. She sucked his lower lip into her mouth and tangled her hands in his hair, encouraging him to explore.
Forgetting entirely that Sirius was probably watching everything, James shifted on the couch so that he could lower his body on top of hers. He snagged a hand in her ponytail and pulled out the holder with the altruistic purpose of allowing her to lie down more comfortably, though he then selfishly enjoyed the way her vibrant hair spread out over the beige sofa, so long it spilled off the edges.
They snogged like that for probably half an hour, hands drifting up and down each other's sides and never straying anywhere that would raise elbows. For James, it felt a lot like playing catch up. This should have happened years ago, back when they were in Hogwarts as co-heads at the very latest. He should already be familiar with the exact feeling of Lily's hipbone as it jutted out against his roaming hands. It shouldn't be a new discovery that a feather-light touch along the dimples in her back caused her to release a breathy sigh.
Eventually, Sirius's patience in watching James and Lily snog deteriorated, so he rammed his head hard against the side of the couch to signal that it needed to end immediately. Groaning, James lifted himself up off Lily's prone form and returned his glasses to their proper place.
"That was –"
The words dyed in James' throat as Lily took advantage of her newfound freedom to part the measly strings of her halter top and toss the garment aside. Momentarily, his ability to form rational thoughts died as well.
Everything about her was so pink – her nipples, the blush of her skin. In all his years of fantasizing about just what Lily might look like with her top off, he'd never been able to picture that perfect shade. She was sweet and full and looking at him with a wanting that perfectly matched his own, and he'd never been happier.
Until his brain started to work again. Then he screamed.
"Merlin! Lily, put your shirt back on!"
"What are you yelling about?" Lily demanded.
She sounded royally brassed off, but her eyes revealed that her feelings were closer to hurt and confusion than anything else. Likely no bloke had ever had such a negative reaction to her tits before, which James found to be only natural as they were a fucking gift.
Sirius's frantic barking brought him back to reality.
"No, it's just! Padfoot's in here!" James tried to explain.
Being the world's greatest mate and also a pretty decent guy, Sirius had lowered his head to the floor so that his paws covered his eyes and the view of Lily's tits. The horrible thought that he might not have moved fast enough and seen her was enough to have James in a fit of anxiety.
"Oh my God, James. It's not a big deal," Lily laughed, making no effort to put her shirt back on. "And, wait, did you train him to cover his eyes? James, that's so weird!"
James didn't care if Lily thought he was a freak who had weird sexual hangups about his dog. He could learn to live with that misconception. What he could not live with was that the longer the situation remained static, the greater the chance Sirius was going to see something he shouldn't, and if Sirius caught a glance and, Merlin forbid, Lily ever found out…well, James' life was on the line.
"Let's just go to the bedroom instead," James said, trying to sound confident and casual.
Immediately, Lily's smirk grew knowing. "Oh, I see. Smooth, Potter. Let's take this to the bedroom, indeed."
"No, Lily, I wasn't –"
"Bit presumptuous, I must say," Lily continued, unconcerned with the way he was wildly gesticulating. "But you're in luck because I rather find that kind of confidence sexy."
For a moment, James forgot the issue at hand, and asked, "Since when?"
Lily ignored him.
"I guess I'll be in the bedroom, if you want to come and keep me company," she sighed.
She stood up and her shorts dropped to the floor to join her discarded top. James' mouth went dry. Her every swaying step was catalogued in his overjoyed brain as she sashayed to his bedroom, closing the door behind her.
James was on his feet in an instant, racing to join her. Teeth bared and growling, Sirius blocked the door.
"Listen, I'm sorry, mate, but you'll need to stay in form just a little longer," James said unapologetically.
Sirius licked his hand in a way that he thought meant "yeah, because that definitely isn't going to last long." Just to punish him for his cheek, James flipped the channel on the telly to the muggle news even though he knew a football match was on channel three.
He didn't stop to catch the outraged look on Sirius's face. Lily was waiting for him.
James fingers drummed a beat on the dashboard. A Kink's song, Lily thought she recognized. It was terribly distracting. Not the song. His fingers.
In the two weeks since Lily had started sleeping with James, she'd come to discover he had world-changing, wonderful fingers. She especially liked them when they were curled deep inside of her.
Thoughts like this, moments before she would have to face Petunia, were neither healthy nor helpful. Lily was already worried sick about how James would manage pretending to be respectable, the last thing she needed was to dissolve into a randy puddle every time she caught sight of his hands.
"I still don't know how you could possibly think your sister won't like me," James said arrogantly from the passenger's seat. "Everyone likes me."
"First, that is not even remotely true. And, second, Petunia is not going to like you. No matter what you do. So adjust your expectations accordingly," Lily said.
Monthly dinners with Petunia had been instituted at Lily's insistence and were now attended with all the enthusiasm of a wake. Maintaining some kind of relationship was important, and Lily knew that, she just wished the three hours a month she spent in her sister and her family's company could be a little more pleasant. In that hope, she'd invited James and Padfoot to come along. Petunia was always talking about how much her little Dudley adored dogs, so Lily figured her guest would be, if not welcome, at least permitted to enter the house.
Mocking Petunia and her oaf of a husband would be a lot more fun once James had his own impressions to offer. The joy that would be their rehashing of the night once they were safely back at James' flat would be the reward for surviving the evening.
They exited the car outside of the Dursley's perfectly presentable house. James slammed the door too loudly, unsure how much force would be required, causing an elderly woman doing her gardening to drop her pruning shears in surprise. Lily waved apologetically and ushered James and Padfoot to the door.
They hadn't even made it past the front porch before the first hurdle of the evening.
"You can't possibly expect I'm going to let that mangy dog in my house," Petunia said tightly, rubbing her soapy hands along the sides of her hideously twee apron. "We've just done the carpets."
"You're the one who's always talking about how much Dudley loves dogs. I thought it would be a nice surprise," Lily argued.
"Stuffed dogs. Honestly, Lily," Petunia said.
'Honestly, Lily' was Petunia's favorite sentence in the English language.
"Erm, it's alright," James said, trying to be helpful. "He can just wait in the car."
Petunia, not realizing that James was completely oblivious as a wizard to the way cars overheated and cooked pets alive, did not take this to be an honest suggestion. Rather, she huffed, offended, at the insinuation that she would rather let a dog die in her driveway than step foot in her house.
Trapped into what she perceived to be a corner, Petunia huffed, "Fine. But keep him off the furniture."
They'd barely crossed the threshold when a roar of "Doggy!" alerted them to the chubby figure of Dudley charging towards them. Lily thought it was normal for a boy of Dudley's age to have some…difficult behavior now and again. The terrible twos weren't spoken of in whispers in nurseries throughout the country for no reason, but Lily couldn't escape the worry that her nephew was perhaps a little more temperamental than his peers.
He all but made up for it, however, in terms of physical adorableness. With little arms like sausage links and a mop of sandy hair, Lily was overcome every time she saw Dudley with the urge to crush him to her chest and squeeze until he stopped being so damnably sweet looking. (She rarely acted on this impulse as Dudley usually began to wail very loudly in her ear at any approaching hugging, but the desire remained).
The adults turned their attention away from the toddler currently tackling his new playmate to the floor in order to focus on each other.
"So, Potter, is it?" Vernon greeted, joining them in the dining room. "I see that's a Toyota outside. Drive a foreign car, eh?"
"That's my car, Vernon," Lily said.
"Oh, then what type of car do you have?" Vernon asked James.
"I don't have a car. No need," James said affably. "My best mate owns a motorbike though."
James could not have cemented his reputation as the wrong sort with Vernon more quickly if he tried. Lily could see the disparaging thoughts about the unemployed whirring behind Vernon's attempt at a friendly grimace.
Wanting to at least make it to the salad before the first blow out of the night, Lily managed to steer the conversation to safer topics before James could mention his broomstick. With her luck, Vernon would take it as a poorly veiled sexual innuendo.
As the adults settled down for a tense dinner, poor Padfoot was left entirely in the clutches of Dudley Dursely. With grubby hands, already bizarrely large like his father's, Dudley grabbed tight hold of Padfoot's fur and pulled. The dog growled threateningly, but Dudley showed no signs of intimidation, continuing his assault.
It wasn't the little boy's intention to hurt the dog. Simply, in his fascination at the animal, he couldn't contain his desire to be as close as possible and, unfortunately, that manifested in a great deal of aggressive hugging.
To Lily's surprise, Padfoot handled his mistreatment with a grace that even well-trained dogs rarely showcased. He snarled a bit, tried growling to make Dudley release him, but he didn't raise a paw to push away his assailant. Even when Dudley's hands pulled free, still clenching two tufts of fur in his chubby fists and leaving scarlet, hairless spots on Padfoot's torso, he remained passive.
"Umm, mate, maybe you could play a little bit more nicely with Padfoot?" James offered nervously, but behind his glasses, Lily could see he was furious.
"Don't parent my son," Petunia ordered sharply.
Her eyes narrowed on James as if he'd just raised a hand to Dudley rather than made a light suggestion. Lily rubbed her thumb along James' forearm in a subtle attempt at providing some comfort. James didn't calm down, but he did return to the food before him rather than argue with Petunia, so Lily took it as a win.
Dudley did begin to play somewhat more tamely with Padfoot after a time. Soon, Padfoot was racing through the house with Dudley holding tight on his back and giggling up a storm. To Lily's complete shock, the sight of her son so happy actually warmed Petunia. Lily could see it in the way color made its way to Petunia's typically wan cheeks.
Despite not having a car and, most unforgivably, being a wizard, James had managed to make a decent first impression with the Dursleys. Such a scenario existed beyond the scope of Lily's imagination. She felt terribly proud – of Padfoot, of course, not James. James had nothing to do with any of it.
They were well into the main course when the conversation turned blessedly away from Grunnings where Vernon was employed to the topic of the Evanses. Everyone experienced grief in different ways, and Petunia's preferred method was to talk about their parents frequently with anyone who would stop to listen. Trapped as they were at the dining table until the dessert was finished, James was a perfect audience.
"Our parents were truly exceptional people," Petunia told James earnestly. "Daddy always went out of the way to help others and Mama was no different. You'll never find two kinder souls."
"I'm sure they were lovely," James said.
"What about your parents?" Vernon boomed. "What do they do for a living?"
"I lost both my parents to Dragon Pox last year," James said.
The Dursleys expressed their insincere condolences. They were hardly happy that James' parents were dead, but it didn't particularly matter to them either. Lily could see the way they itched to change the subject. Others' grief was uncomfortable and, worse, distasteful. That they died of something so clearly magical, so clearly freakish, only muted their sympathy even more.
"Cancer. Our mother was cancer," Petunia told James.
Lily's mind screamed for her to shut up, to shove a forkful of potatoes in her mouth and drop the horrible words that died to escape next, but she didn't listen. "How can you be so forgetful, Tuney? Our mother was a Virgo."
Petunia's returning glare redefined the adjective "withering." It was glacial and the temperature seemed to drop ten degrees under the intensity of her censure.
"I think we should change the subject," James said. "This is really starting to drag-on."
All four of them froze.
A beat passed where Lily frantically tried to process that yes, James had in fact just made his own matching dead parents joke. And then she was laughing, unrepentant and joyous despite the fact that her sister had never looked more scandalized.
She hadn't felt this buoyant while thinking about her parents since…well, Lily couldn't remember the last time. Since they'd died, Lily had only ever mourned their passing or reflected on how much time they had wasted. There had been very little room left for her to think about how funny they could be, how much her father would have loved to hear them making jokes at his passing. She worried her sides were going to split.
Alongside her, James snickered with every bit as much amusement as Lily. Over the sound of their mirth, the Dursleys changed the subject and began to talk about the impracticality of finding a good school for Dudley. Underneath the table, Lily grabbed hold of James' hand and held tight. Her body was still plagued by aftershocks of laughter, and as she held his hand she could only think about how much she had to thank James for that. It felt a lot like healing.
There were few sights that could bring James up short, but watching Sirius snog a record, was one of them. The breaking point, where he felt there was no choice but to intervene, was when he thought he spotted tongue.
"Would you put that down? At least go to the bathroom or something," James demanded.
Affronted, Sirius rounded on him. "Ha ha, make your jokes. I don't care. This album changed me, Prongs. There's an alternate reality where I haven't listened to this album, and I hate that guy. I hope that guy gets hit by the Knight bus. I bet that guy's never been laid."
"With that face?" James snorted. "Impossible."
The album that Sirius was aggressively brandishing at him was The Clash's London Calling, a nihilistic masterpiece of aggressive punk rock that Sirius had played so often that year that Peter had started humming the tunes in his sleep. Before London Calling had been released, Sirius had loudly proclaimed to all who would listen that Give 'Em Enough Rope was the album that had changed his life. James had little doubt that every new album released by The Clash over the next decade would be treated to the same worshipful aggrandizement.
James thought the members of the band should see a therapist.
"All I'm saying, is I owe everything to this album and tomorrow, I'm finally going to see them in concert, so if you could take your negativity elsewhere, it would be appreciated," Sirius said.
James wasn't in a position to refuse. In fact, the word 'no' when it came to Sirius had been all but stricken from his vocabulary. For weeks now, Sirius had been gamely accompanying him on dates with Lily to keep up their charade, and as time passed, James had watched Sirius's resentment towards the arrangement grow.
"Alright, I'll lay off. It's none of my business what a man gets up to with his records," James agreed.
Sirius nodded curtly, but he did set down his record to focus on making toast instead. Watching Sirius clamber around the kitchen reminded James that he'd wanted to cook Lily dinner in a week's time. She seemed to enjoy it when he put in a bit of effort, and the way Lily chose to convey her gratitude was his favorite thing in the world.
When he told Sirius to avoid making plans for Friday, his friend's face transformed as if he'd swallowed a lemon.
"James you have to tell Lily the truth," Sirius said gravely.
It was the advice James had been most afraid of. He'd known this day was inevitable, but he'd hoped for a little more time before Lily dumped him on his arse and swanned off to better, more honest pastures. She'd likely have a new boyfriend, one who owned four dogs and a fucking chinchilla, before the week was out.
"I can't," James said desperately. "She'll murder me. You'd miss me too much to let me be murdered, right?"
"Fine, don't tell her, but you have to do something. I'm not spending half my life as a dog so you can impress a bird," Sirius said unsympathetically.
James slumped miserably upon the sofa. No Padfoot meant no Lily, plain and simple. She'd only started dating him in the first place to gain better access to his dog. If he pretended to give Padfoot away to a shelter, she'd chuck him. If he told her the truth, she'd chuck him and then she'd kill him.
Picturing all their time together, James' heart broke a little. She was airy and free and sharp as Gryffindor's sword. Everything he'd ever wanted condensed into one tiny, unfairly fit package.
"Oh no, I'm going to have to break up with her," James gasped as the horrible realization settled upon him.
"What?"
"Then, five years from now, I can find her, say Padfoot's long gone, and try to win her back. It's the only way," James said.
The flaws in this solution were plentiful and obvious. What if in five years Lily's chinchilla-owning boyfriend had turned into her chinchilla-owning husband? What if she never gave him another go because she'd come to hate him? What if she cried?
"That seems extreme," Sirius said slowly. "You could just own up to your mistakes and admit you cocked up."
James dismissed that ridiculous idea without a moment's consideration. 'Forgiving' was not in the first hundred words James would use to describe Lily. 'Unforgiving' was number twenty-six.
Sirius came over and sat next to him on the couch, passing James a piece of bread. He hadn't bothered to toast it after all, so it's soft and unbuttered and essentially worthless as far as food is concerned, but James shoved half of it in his mouth anyway. They chewed their bland meal together in silence, both contemplating what felt like the end of an era.
There was something incredibly flattering about the way Lily was greeted every time she made a visit to the Marauders' – fast becoming her Marauders – flat. She never had to wait on the narrow stoop for more than half a minute before someone would be there, usually eager and smiling, to open the door. Often, she could hear the stampede of footsteps on the other side, signaling that there was a bevy of boys in the house, all excited to see her.
Today, she knew most of the boys were the Clash concert that the few times Lily had seen Sirius he'd discussed with an almost religious fanaticism, but James would be home. He had opted out of going when he realized Lily had to work because that was just the type of considerate boyfriend he was. Not that they were official or anything, but after six weeks of fucking and nine weeks of laughter, Lily had started to refer to him as such in her head. Something told her that James wouldn't mind the presumption.
As usual, James did not keep her waiting long, opening the door in twenty seconds flat after the first moment her knuckles made contact with the chipped wood. He leaned against the frame with the characteristic arrogance that made her want to hex him when they were in school but now just made her knickers go slick.
"Well, hello, Miss Evans," he said playfully. "Would you like to come in?"
Lily smirked, a knowing, self-satisfied smile, and then slowly undid the fastenings of her coat, revealing what she wore underneath. Or more accurately, what she didn't as the sheer knickers set she wore was substantially less than James had been expecting.
"I don't know, Mr. Potter. Should I?" And as much as she wanted to sound teasing and superior, Lily's voice broke into a huskier drawl, too worked up from the walk over where she'd fantasized about all manner of wicked activities James might enjoy when he saw what she was wearing.
For a long moment, James regressed, losing all powers of speech and resembling, if anything, a beached fish gasping to return to the sea. If the speed with which James met her at the door was gratifying, his reaction to seeing her exposed body bordered on worship.
James pulled her into his apartment, and Lily kicked the door closed because the neighbors did not need a view of what was going to happen next. They fell against the wall in a needy tangle of lips and teeth. James skimmed the length of her stomach, dipped down to pepper it with kisses, and Lily thought the word love, as startling and bright as a neon billboard on a highway at night, for the first time in her life.
"Wait," Lily said, gasping for breath as James' fingers nudged against the lacy edge of her knickers. "We should take this to the bedroom. Wouldn't want Padfoot to see."
James' face, which had never looked more attractive than just then as it rested against her bare thigh, stretched into a grin, "No need. He's not here, so there's nothing to stop me from fucking your right here on the sofa."
"They took a dog to a concert?" Lily asked skeptically, even as she bored of the subject because she'd always longed for James to take her bent over the high back of that couch.
"No, he's not with the lads," James said absently.
Lily would have let the subject drop, but she was worried she'd start moaning as James' fingers disappeared beneath her knickers and he really didn't need something to swell his already enlarged ego, so she asked, "Then where is he?"
"Oh, he died," James said calmly, wet fingers creeping over her clit.
Suffice to say, Lily did not take this news well.
"He what?"
Lily managed to close her coat and put several meters between them before the second word had completely escaped her mouth. There was a moment where she wasn't sure what direction her tumult of emotions would choose to take, but then she settled on rage and committed to it.
"You were going to fuck me when Padfoot just died?" Lily shrieked.
"No, I mean – the neighbors, Lily," James pleaded, but Lily refused to be quieted.
"You fucking arse! What is wrong with you?" Lily yelled.
She refused to feel sorry for him, not matter how pathetic he might have looked with a likely painful hard-on visible through his jeans and his hands raised as if warding off a wild animal. In fact, it was very much in his best interests to stop treating her like a savage animal in the immediate future or she was going to show him wild.
A horrible thought occurred to her. "You didn't – oh my God, you didn't already hold the funeral without me, did you?"
"No! I mean, we're not having a funeral, so…"
If James had hoped to calm her down, he was going about it in entirely the wrong way. Lily slumped into a ball on the floor and burst into tears. No funeral meant no goodbyes. It meant that Padfoot's body had already been callously disposed of without even a service to commemorate all he had been. It forced her to confront that the sweet, mischievous dog that she had grown to love was dead, and he wasn't coming back, and oh no, now she couldn't stop sobbing.
Her crying ripped painfully from her throat, robbing her of the ability to breath. James crouched beside her an instant later, but all of his attempts at comfort were worthless.
Lily's thoughts were far away from her maybe-boyfriend. No, they were travelling through kilos of solid dirt, through fleshy worms and the solid maze of roots that made up the earth. It was where both her parents lay, decayed and yet still decadent in their Sunday best, and it was where Padfoot now resided as well. Alone, without any of his favorite toys to keep him company or the reassurance that James, his master and best friend, would always care for him.
Because James was very sick in the head if he could try to wet his dick the same day – or was it the day after? Lily didn't even know – that his dog died. She was dating an emotionless robot.
"Please stop crying," James said with more concern than a robot had any right to show. "I promise, Lils, everything is going to be okay."
"Nothing will ever be okay again!" she wailed in return.
They could have probably continued in the same cycle of insults and tears for another several hours, but then, Lily's crying took a violent turn. She hyperventilated to the point that her vision started to spot out like the telly during a thunderstorm, and James had to race to fetch a wastebasket in which she could retch a mouthful of bile that had started to choke her.
Needless to say, James panicked and blurted out, "Lily, he's not dead. I promise, Padfoot's not dead. I made it up."
It took several minutes for Lily to calm down enough to assess his claims. Through bleary eyes and smudged mascara that resembled nothing more than wet ink dripping down a page, Lily examined James' face for any sign that he was deceiving her and just telling her what she wanted to hear. When she didn't find anything, she went ballistic. Lily's exhaustive vocabulary was tested as she hurtled every curse she could think of at James, ignoring his many attempts at defending himself.
Her heart was still beating too rapidly and her anxiety was a twitchy, living thing at the back of her neck when she finally finished berating James. For his part, James looked red-faced and ashamed of his behavior. As he should, she thought grimly.
And then he told her everything. All this time she'd wondered about Sirius's absence and he'd really been right there, slobbering on her knee. It was treachery of the worst kind. The fact that James had been required to keep it a secret from her lest she discover Sirius's illegal forays into animagus transformations did nothing to temper her feelings of betrayal. Yet, none of this changed the feelings she'd developed for James in the past few weeks, so Lily sat mutinously silent through James' explanations, torn between confusion and fury.
Finishing up his apology, James reached for her limp hands and said earnestly, "I just didn't know how to tell you. Listen, I promise I will never lie to you again."
"I don't see why I should believe you," Lily sniffed, but she didn't tug her hand out of his grip either.
James shot to his feet. "Let's go to Frank's."
"What? Why?"
"Because we'll need a third person to officiate over an unbreakable vow and the boys are busy," James said.
Now, Lily was on her feet too. "Are you mad? We are not performing an unbreakable vow!"
"Why not?" James exploded. "I swear to you I will never lie again, and I mean it. I will die before I ever lie to you again. Let's get it all squared away now, so you never have to doubt me again."
The maddest part was that Lily knew he meant every word. James would risk death if only to set her at ease in their relationship. He'd ignore the fact that such a vow was completely implausible – he'd never be able to plan a surprise for her birthday or pretend he wasn't in a bad mood after a shite day of work, assuming he ever got a job.
Even though she was still properly furious and hadn't come anywhere near contemplating forgiveness, Lily kissed him. It shut him up and erased all ill-conceived plans of unbreakable vows from his head. It also reminded Lily that, git or not, she and James fit in a way that was so oddly perfect that she knew she would never be able to replicate it with someone new. They were too pieces belonging to the same puzzle – not the kind that fit together because they would always chafe, always fight, but the kind that border each other, and there was something more exciting about that friction anyway.
They made good use of the sofa.
The others returned earlier than Lily had been expecting, while she and James were still recovering after some explosive makeup – or maybe it was still angry, it was hard to say – sex.
Lily was rather looking forward to a chance to hex Sirius bald for his part in deceiving her, but they didn't enter alone. No, there straining against its leash was a miniature poodle, still so young that it sniffed about in awe at the new sights of the flat as if it was still acclimating to the wonders of being alive.
"What's that?" Lily whispered.
"One new poppy, Prongs," Sirius declared. "As requested to replace the greatest dog the world shall ever know, Padfoot."
"She knows," James said.
"She knows?" Sirius echoed, and at James' solemn nod, he began to back away as if in fear that Lily might fly up from the couch to assault him.
"But why'd you buy a dog?" Lily pressed.
"Rescued a dog," James said a little proudly because he knew just what she thought of the cruel system that abandoned animals to misery and death. "And I got it because I know how much you want one. Maybe you can't afford one, but I can, and well, I want you to be happy."
There wasn't much to say to that. Her boyfriend (because that was exactly the title James deserved) was an idiot, but he also loved her enough to take on the responsibility of a puppy just for her.
There wasn't much to say except that the sex from before could most definitely be described as angry sex. They now knew because what followed, as Lily leapt into James' arms to snog the daylights out of him and the Marauders stumbled out of the flat scarred, was decidedly makeup sex. And body did it trump the passion from before.
Legs wrapped tightly around James' waist, Lily broke their kissing long enough to ask, "You don't mind that our new friend might see?"
James turned to look at the cheerful puppy that had been abandoned by the retreating Marauders.
"Nah, Sis Boom Bah is free to watch."
"Sis Boom Bah?"
"Yeah."
"You named a puppy Sis Boom Bah?"
"You wouldn't name a puppy Sis Boom Bah?"
"God, I have terrible taste in men," Lily bemoaned before kissing James again.
Things were just becoming good when James said, "Actually would you mind taking this to the bedroom?" James lowered his voice. "She's really watching us."
James scooped her up and carried her, cackling all the way, to the bedroom where he shut the door on Sis Boom Bah and their new life together.
The citizens of Cokeworth never fully acclimated to the strange group of boys that had taken up residence in the center of town. At times they found them rude and disrespectful, at times they swore they saw something unnatural, a bit like magic, as they cut a swath through town. The one thing no one would ever deny, however, was that the boy with the glasses made Lily Evans incredibly happy. They would speak in hushed voice about how after all those Evans girls had suffered, what with losing their parents, surely they deserved something wonderful in their lives. And if for the younger girl that was a gangly out-of-towner, well, they would get used to him. After all, he wasn't going anywhere.