Hey all! This is my first time publishing on here, and my first take on a smutty story with a hint of plot to it ;) Read and review!

The incident had been just two weeks ago. It consumed her thoughts. She wanted revenge against Severus Snape. Any friendship she felt towards him was irrevocably gone. Lily contemplated ways of punishing him—punishing without actually hurting. The problem was all of her ideas were tinged with pain. She wanted to hurt him. She was unused to these types of thoughts. But Lily was determined. Snape had scared years off her life, and she wouldn't let him walk away scotch free.

"James." The answer to her problems jumped a foot and looked up at her from his essay, eyes wide. "I need your help."

"My help?" He croaked, like the very idea that she would approach him was absurd. And really, it was absurd. They'd been working together as Heads for a little over a month. All their interaction had been short and professional—right up until the incident. She'd run from Snape and right into the arms of James Potter. Even then, they hadn't spoken. Potter cleared his throat. "With what?"

"A prank."

"A prank?" He echoed faintly, both eyebrows raised; almost hidden beneath his hairline. Lily felt a blush creeping up her cheeks. "A prank?"

"Yes." She paused. "James." It was the first time in recent memory—if not ever—that she'd called him by his given name. Maybe if she threw him off he'd forget about her crumpling into his arms sobbing.

"I didn't know you knew my name." He muttered, though a grin spread across his face. Lily's blush darkened, though she felt herself grinning in return.

"I'm no fool."

"No." He agreed slowly. "You have a target, I presume?"

"Snape." If possible, his eyebrows went even further up. Lily shifted in discomfort, but she didn't take it back.

"Any particular reason?"

"It's not your business." She hissed, deciding that this was a terrible idea. Lily spun on her heel. "Forget it, Potter."

"Oi!" He called after her. "I won't pass up an opportunity to prank Sniv—Snape." She stopped in her tracks. "I promise I won't ask about last week either."

"Right." Lily rubbed her nose, debating. This was still a terrible idea.

"Look, I know you're not all that into breaking the rules, but why don't we sneak down to Hogsmeade? Not a date or anything!" He added quickly. "But you look like you could use something to take the edge off."

"It's not a date." Lily said fiercely, glad that Potter nodded emphatic agreement. She gave in quickly, thinking that alcohol was exactly what she needed in this situation. It was distinctly odd to walk in amicable silence with Potter through the corridors. He led her to the third floor and a humpbacked witch statue. Lily frowned as he tapped the statue and muttered something.

"A hidden passage?" She asked dryly, wondering why this surprised her.

"One of seven." He nodded, ushering her into it. "We'll come out in Honeydukes." Lily rolled her eyes at his back, following in sullen silence. How did she get herself in this situation? It felt like a date as soon as they got out of Honeydukes and were walking to the Three Broomsticks. Lily went straight for firewhiskey, fiercely wishing that Potter would say something about her choice of drink. She'd love a good shouting match right about now.

Instead, Potter ordered the same, and started a silent challenge over who could handle their liquor better. The challenge turned awkwardness into an enjoyable moment—it turned the moment into an evening.

Her head was buzzing by the time they found their way from the bar to a secluded booth. They huddled together in it, legs touching and inches from each other as James went off on extravagant ideas for pranking Severus Snape. Lily liked his ideas, though she continually thought they weren't awful enough. She wanted the bleeder to suffer. Finally, James grew quiet, a warm presence at her side. She was one shot of firewhiskey ahead of him, and feeling rather proud of that fact. But she sensed his discomfort.

"Lily." James started, voice low and husky. His breath whispered across her cheek, and she shivered slightly. "I said I wouldn't ask—"

"He kissed me." She blurted without meaning to. Lily stared at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to explode. "I-I didn't want him to. I didn't think he was going to. I was on my way back from Slughorn's party, and he was just there. Started going off on how much he missed me, and then he started kissing me…" Lily trailed off, remembering the feeling of being trapped and shuddering. "It was gross. His breath was really bad."

"Did he hurt you?" His voice was low, protective. He was tense with the sudden need to protect her. Lily bit her lip, wondering at the fluttering in her stomach.

"No." She whispered. "I stunned him. Maybe I overreacted, but…" James just looked at her. "It was gross." Lily repeated. Snape had been sloppy and rather slobbery in his kiss.

"And have you had many gross kisses before, Evans?" James demanded, a smirk dancing at the corners of his mouth.

"More gross than good." Lily wrinkled her nose. It occurred to her to wonder at the direction this conversation had taken. "Am I drunk?"

"I know I am." It was at that moment, as she started to ask how he could tell, that Lily realized just how close they were. James tilted his head just slightly, lips brushing across hers. She froze for a beat, then relaxed, trusting him. His lips lingered over hers, soft and unsure. When she didn't push him back, James deepened the kiss. Lily forgot everything in the world, reaching to bury her hands in his hair as she parted her lips for him. She'd do anything to make him kiss her again. He was soft but sure, teasing but wonderful.

He drew back with abruptness she wasn't expecting, flushed as much as she felt. His eyes were wide and over bright.

"I'm sorry." He blurted. "I shouldn't have…"

"No—"

"You're…I'm…drunk." James shook his head. "Shit and you just said—" She grabbed his face, kissing him fiercely. Only the table kept her from crawling into his lap. He separated himself from her again, dragging her from the booth. Lily clung to his arm as they walked back towards the castle.

As they went, Lily made him swear to tell no one about Snape kissing her. It hadn't been more than a kiss, she argued. He wouldn't have tried to rape her. Lily was very sure of it. James was less sure, but he didn't argue. Instead, he fished a spare bit of paper from his pocket and muttered something that she couldn't quite make out. As much as she begged and wielded, James refused to tell her what it was. Even after they'd reached the Heads' dorm, he stubbornly kept his silence.

"Would you tell me if I kissed you?" Lily demanded.

"No." He grinned, amused by her persistence. She kissed him anyway, molding her body to his. James caught her up, one arm tight around her and his other hand buried in her hair. Lily groaned into the kiss, enjoying the feeling of his lips against hers.

She was lost to him, tongue twined around his. It barely registered that his hand was on her bare back. They separated for a breath, fabric dragging on her arms and hair. Then they were kissing again, heated now. Lily shivered beneath his hands. He was undressing her—her breasts were bare now. But she couldn't bring herself to care. Rather, she was enjoying his touch too much to think of stopping.

His lips trailed down her throat as his thumb brushed across her nipple. Lily groaned, arching into him. James palmed her breast, pinching and teasing in the exact right way to make heat pool between her legs. She untangled her fingers from his hair, tugging on his shirt. They started stumbling towards the stairs. James helped her by wrenching his shirt off, tossing off somewhere near the bottom of his staircase. He was well muscled beneath that shirt. Lily pressed her lips to his collar, loving the way his skin tasted beneath her tongue.

They were in his bedroom. Lily tripped over her skirt, and would have fallen if he hadn't caught her. He lifted her instead; her legs wrapped instinctively around him. James laid her gently on his bed, lips setting a blazing path down her body. Lily panted, battling down groans as he worshiped her breasts with teeth and tongue. His hand dipped between her legs, finding her dripping folds. Her eyes rolled back as her hips rose against his hand.

Some small piece of her expected him to enter her then—most others that she'd slept with had done something similar. She was already at a higher fever pitch than she'd gotten to before. Her legs quivered from his fingers, and James was kissing his way down her stomach. Lily groaned loudly as his mouth fastened over her clit. Bless him! She ran her fingers through his hair; before she lost the ability to do anything but gasp and rock her hips in time his with ministrations.

He plied at her until she came undone, crying out in orgasm—twice. She wanted him desperately; wanted to feel him push inside her, stretching her. When she was close to begging, James shifted to cover her with his body. She could taste herself on his lips, but was beyond caring. Lily wrapped her legs around him, shifting until his cock slid into her slick folds. They groaned in unison. Lily wondered vaguely why it had taken them so long to get here. Why had she refused him for so long?

Then he started moving, and Lily lost the ability to think. She cried out, hips rising to meet his every thrust. His lips found the pulse in her throat, adding heat to an already out of control flame. She was consumed by him. Nothing outside of this moment mattered. If there had been a way to get closer to him she would have. Her nails scraped across his back.

"Lily." He moaned in her ear, and she came undone around him. Her legs tightened around his hips. She wanted him to say her name like that again. It was as potent as an aphrodisiac.

"James." She nuzzled his ear, her own voice breathless and full of arousal. He tensed and shuddered against her, cuming without meaning to. Lily grinned against his cheek, holding him tightly to her. Next time, they would last longer. Next time, she'd go down on him too. Lily was more than happy to stay curled around him in the aftermath, blissful and relaxed.

Tomorrow they could talk about what all of this meant. Things would be different when they were both sober, she knew. But she vowed to not regret a moment. How could she regret this when it felt so good to be wrapped in James' arms?