The anticipatory hum of the crowd did little to calm her heart.
James had been skating around for a little bit and took his place at the boards next to her as the announcer called for the end of the four-minute warm-up. She and James would be skating first in the last group.
Lily closed her eyes and tried to still her heart as she placed her hands on the barrier in front of her. She opened them when James gently called out to her, water bottle in hand. He'd just taken a drink. "Lily?"
She turned to face him. His hair was slightly tousled from the warm-up, and his eyes were like honey in the light. "Hey," she said, giving him a tight smile.
"Nervous?"
"Yeah," she answered. "A little."
James looked at her, unconvinced, his eyes roving over her face. His eyes narrowed. There was more than a bit of doubt reflected in her eyes and she knew it.
"Hey," he said, putting down the bottle. "You're supposed to be the level-headed one," he said to her. "I'm the headcase, remember?"
"You're not a headcase," she said, and gave him a genuine smile. Then she teased, "Not anymore, anyway."
James smiled, but then gave her that look that he often did when she was in a state and said, "Lily, you have nothing to lose. You are still the reigning Olympic bronze medalist in this event, and you always will be an Olympic medalist. No one can take that away from you."
"But—"
"No," James cut in. "Don't worry about placements, don't worry about medals, don't think about how much we have to do and how perfect we have to be to even have a shot at making it onto the podium. No matter what happens, we're in this together, and your name will always be etched in the history books."
"Don't hold back," their coach added, looking meaningfully at the pair. James and Lily both turned to face her, backs straight and shoulders back. "You two have more than earned your place here. You did not come to the Olympics to be conservative or cautious."
Lily and James both nodded.
"Leave it all out there on the ice. That is what you two always do at every competition. This," she said, motioning all around them. "This is just another competition."
"Okay," Lily said. "Okay."
"Well," James said. "It's a bit more than that."
"James," their coach said flatly.
"Let's not worry about the judges," James said abruptly, looking to Lily again. "We're here for the people who came here to support us tonight, and we're here for the people at home who couldn't make it, too."
"Go and make us all proud," their coach said, looking at both of them and giving each a small smile.
They turned away from the boards, and they both smiled when their coach gave them a gentle circular rub on their backs and then affectionately patted them both on the shoulder.
Lily took a deep breath. "Ready?" she asked James.
"Ready," he answered.
His hand found hers, warm and comforting, and they skated away together.
"Ladies and gentlemen, representing Great Britain—Lily Evans and James Potter!"
With her hand firmly in his, they skated out to the thundering applause of the crowd. The pair threw their hands up to the sky and waved to the adoring sold-out stadium of fifteen-thousand strong.
James's hand skimmed the black mesh covering Lily's lower back before slipping it around her waist, his familiar touch comforting her as the roar of the crowd began to quiet.
"Alright, Evans?" He asked into her ear, dipping his head down to hers. His lips grazed her ear, and a warm sensation traveled down her neck.
She turned slightly and smoothly slipped out of his grasp to better look at him. Her hand touched his forearm before her fingers gently traveled down to find his hand. His fingers tangled with hers immediately. "Let's not worry about the judges," she said, repeating his words from earlier.
"We play to the cheap seats," he responded, giving her a wink and an easy smile. "Let's give them all a show they'll never forget."
"It's—it's you and me out there," she said, bravely, looking into his eyes. "Let's do it for us, too."
James looked at her—really looked at her—and gave her a wide smile. "Yeah," he said. "For us."
He squeezed her hand, a warm and comforting gesture, before letting go. They broke apart and skated in opposite directions for a few heartbeats before meeting back in the center of the rink.
She turned, and there James stood silently, already facing one section of the crowd. His hazel eyes were sharp, his chin up. He was already in character.
Lily skated a circle around him, preparing herself, and then angled her boots to bring herself towards him. Her character was now in place. Smoothly, she weaved her boots side to side, one eyebrow up and a smirk in place, before gliding slowly past his left side, eyes on him the entire time. Her heart raced as he returned her look with his own intense gaze—hazel met green for the briefest of moments. They had done this a million times before, but this was different. The air was charged with suspense and with expectation. Her manicured hand came up to curve around his shoulder, feeling the dips and planes of his deltoid and biceps as it trailed down towards his elbow. Then, with a delicious slowness, it traveled across to his waist and over his hip, before settling, very briefly, on his very nice and very toned rear. A few isolated cheers and wolf-whistles sprang up from the crowd. The music had not yet started, but any good performer knew how to build up to a program. She settled, her hand leaving the heat of his body, and stood—her back to his back—and they waited. The crowd was now quiet.
Then the music began.