author's note: for abi, who enjoys them

© not mine at all

(i.)

He is the sun and she is the moon and it's a miracle she says yes immediately.

They meet on a bus when it's far too crowded and she's wearing battered up Doc Martens and jumps on just before the doors close. It's so packed that the driver doesn't notice she hasn't paid. Her hair is red and long and she's got freckles splattered across her nose that he would one day love to count.

The bus screeches to a stop far too quickly and he extends a hand to stop her falling. She teeters a bit but keeps her balance. He wishes she hadn't. The hand remains extended, reaching further and further until it taps her on the shoulder and she swivels to face him.

"Let me guess. Fourth Haim sister?"

"They don't have a ginger," she says, shaking her head.

"Pity." He smiles, as he's been trained to. "Scorpius Malfoy."

He extends a hand in the six inches between them. She takes it.

"Lily Potter."

"Where are you headed?"

"Camden," she tells him. "There's a gig on."

"What kind of a gig?"

"The kind your pretentious business-law-school-bloke-using-public-transport-as-opposed-to-black-vintage-auto type probably won't be interested in."

He raises his eyebrows. "What makes you think I'm doing any of that? And why wouldn't I be interested? Shouldn't music transcend all kinds of societal expectations?" He straightens up his collar. "I'm not set on doing anything too interesting right now, so how about you show me the way?"

"What if I told you I've got a big rugby player for a boyfriend and he'll knock you out with one hit?"

"Do you have a big rugby player for a boyfriend?"

She gives her head a shake and smiles at him. "Do you turn everything into a question?"

"Yes. Do you want me to come to the gig with you?"

"Yes."

(ii.)

He is the sun and she is the moon and one morning she asks him if he's slumming it with her to get back at someone. They are sitting together in his apartment, which does not house a great deal but still manages to be cluttered. There are books and papers piling up on every available surface and there's light streaming in from the windows and it's cold but she's only wearing one of his shirts – the shirt he wore the first time they met, on the bus to the gig – and she seems to be warm enough in it.

He has counted the freckles on her nose and the sum of those still does not add up to how many times "so" should appear in front of "much" when he slams them in place behind an I love you.

"Why would I be slumming it?"

Lily takes a sip of the coffee he's made her. "Because your parents are Wiltshire royalty and my parents are happiest when arguing over Westfield F.C. versus Ottery St. Mary."

Scorpius laughs. "Rich people don't care about football?"

"You're all too busy worrying about your exotic summer holidays."

He leans across the couch and kisses her and he's almost late for his afternoon class in the haze of the hours that follow.

(iii.)

He is the sun and she is the moon and it's very dark on the Acton Town platform. The slab of concrete and brick is smattered with other life forms, though none of them hold her attention like he does. His hair's reflecting the starlight in such a way that it actually seems to be glowing, and the grey in his eyes has begun to look silver, a kaleidoscope of little crescent moons. She wants to kiss him, so she does. He's surprised, but then he responds, and when she feels his hands sliding down her back, she pulls away.

"Easy, tiger. Think you can manage a week or two without me?"

He sighs, freeing her of one hand but winding the other around her waist. "I think it'll be absolute agony."

Lily chuckles. "Don't lie to me – you'll be loving it, taking yacht trips down where the air is warm, toasting champagne with a bottle blonde whose unnaturally red lips stain the rim of the flute."

Scorpius pulls her close, their faces inches from touching. "Why do you keep trying to convince yourself that I'd rather be somewhere else than with you?"

"Dreams come to an end, you know." She kisses him. "You wake up."

"I'm a notorious over-sleeper," he replies, whispering the words between their mouths like it's a secret only they can keep.

"You still wake up," she points out.

"What – did you want me to liken myself to a serious coma patient? Sorry, I just didn't think that was particularly romantic."

Lily laughs. She punches him. "You're an idiot."

"Just realized that, have you?"

With another laugh, she checks the thin black screen with the yellow block lettering floating somewhere a bit further down the platform. Squinting, Lily reads that she has one minute before her train arrives.

"Right. My train arrives in one minute."

"Can't do what I want in one minute."

"You pig!" she exclaims, but it's fond. "Look, I really hope you have a wonderful time with your family and all those other country club types."

"I'll call you while I'm there."

"Even if it costs a hundred quid for roaming use?"

Scorpius laughs. "Even if it costs a hundred quid for roaming use." He can see the lights of Lily's train approaching through the darkness. "When I get back, we should go up to Edinburgh or something. There's still two weeks before next semester starts."

Lily spies her train. "Sounds perfect."

Scorpius pulls her up to kiss him and Lily does so with such fervor that Scorpius takes two steps backward, still holding her. The train pulls in beside them, practically empty. Lily squeezes his hand, gives him one last grin, and then hurries towards the open doors.

"I love you," Scorpius calls, just as she steps in.

Lily's head whips around, her brown eyes wide. She breaks into a smile. "I love – "

The doors shut on her, and the response is lost. Through the window, Scorpius sees her roll her eyes and the two of them wave to each other until Lily's train picks up speed and moves out of sight. Scorpius's phone buzzes in his pocket: a text from Lily.

Bloody train doors! I love you, too x

(iv.)

He is the sun and she is the moon and in their love there is never an eclipse.