Potter's Second Point
(Two-shot)7th year, typical James-wooing-Lily fluff. This is a sequel to Point for Potter, but one doesn't really need the other. T for mild swearing.
I don't' own Harry Potter anything, because I am not the amazing Jo Rowling.
"James Potter, I swear, you are the most juvenile, immature, thoughtless boy I've ever met!" Lily yelled, stomping away from him. They were supposed to be patrolling. As usual, though, they were too busy fighting. In the time between the incident with Snape's incident after O.W.L.s, the two had managed to form an interesting sort of almost-friendship. James still asked her out almost every day, Lily still yelled at him even more than that. They fought, laughed, she helped him through Potions and he helped her in Transfiguration, though neither of them admitted how much they needed the others' help.
Now they were both positively fuming. Lily because of some offense of James' and James because she wouldn't tell him what he'd done. He was just as mad as she was. The difference between the two of them was that when he got angry, he had no idea what to say. His vocabulary shrank. When Lily was mad, she became even more eloquent than usual.
"You've been saying that for years, Lily."
She kept walking. "It's just as true now as it was then!" she cried.
"I don't even know why you're mad, Evans!" He yelled.
She stopped whirling around to face him. "Obviously," she said with a venomous voice, "Perfect Potter. What could you have possibly done wrong."
He hated it when she used sarcasm. "Will, what do you want from me?" he shouted, throwing his arms up. "What can I do so that you won't be mad at me?"His voice had gotten low and tight, his gaze intense.
"Disappear!" she spat before turning on her heel and stomping off. She could have sworn she heard him say, "Fine, Lils, I can do that," from behind her.
Lily turned back again, glaring. She had a new barbed comment ready to send at him, first for calling her that, and second to ask what the hell he meant by that.
She never did though, because he wasn't there.
"Potter?" she asked.
The corridor was empty, except for her.
"What do you think you're doing, Potter?"
Nothing.
"James," she sighed in exasperation, the anger leaving her. "Come on. This isn't the time for games!"
Still no answer.
"Come on," she said again. Starting to worry, he hand hovered near her pocket, ready to pull out her wand. "James."
"See, Lils, you don't really want me gone," a voice said behind her.
She reacted before she thought. Spinning, she was rewarded with a satisfying thud and the sound of someone getting the wind knocked out of them as her fist made contact with her stomach. She looked up to grin smugly at—Nothing.
"What the hell?"
With a quiet whoosh, James pulled a silvery-looking cloak from himself, his other hand massaging his stomach. "Was that really necessary?" he gasped out.
She shrugged. "Probably not. But if felt good."
"Well, then," he said with a small smile. "I demand compensation." His arms grabbed her waist pulling her against him. His lips were inches above hers.
Lily's heart leaped into overdrive, and she knew he could feel it thudding treacherously against her ribcage when a smirk spread across his face.
"Just because I feel better, doesn't mean I forgive you," she murmured, and he sighed. "And you're certainly not getting me to kiss you."
She pulled away, well aware that the captain of the Quidditch team was strong enough to hold her, but he dropped his arms and let her walk away.
She didn't notice the look in his eyes, the idea.
"Lily, wait," James said when they got back to the common room.
He sprinted up the stairs, to his dormitory and soon came back holding a small silver box with a tiny bright blue bow.
"What-?" she looked shocked. "Potter what did you do?"
"Here," he said, "Happy Birthday. That's why you're mad, isn't it? You thought I forgot what tomorrow is."
She took the box, obviously flustered. It had been about that, sort of. The next day was a Hogsmead Saturday. He'd asked her to go with him, ages ago. She'd said no out of habit and now that morning, he'd heard him asking some other girl. The jealousy she felt surging didn't make sense, and it had all turned into a convoluted mess in her head. "Well,… I… ah… Thank you" she said softly. She looked up at him, smiling. "May I open it now, or do I have to wait until the morning?"
He smiled back. "Now's fine."
Wondering why her grin felt so goofy on her face, she peeled the paper and opened the box. An amazed look crossed her face. "James!" she gasped, lifting the necklace. On the black cord hung a silver pendant, exquisitely crafted into a flower.
"I remembered you saying once you liked poppies. Honestly, I wouldn't know the difference, but that's what the Muggle lady in the store said it was. I just thought it was pretty, but you'd make it prettier."
"That might just be the cheesiest line I've ever heard," she murmured. But it worked, she added in her head.
"Look, Lily, if you don't like it, I'll take it back," he said nervously, reaching out to take it back.
Her hand clutched the necklace as she pulled it closer to her, a fiercely protective look spreading across her face.
First James was shocked, then he laughed. "Alright, you like it. Care to try it on?" He reached out to take it again, and this time she let him. He stepped closer to loop it around her neck, clasping it. He lifted her hair out from under the cord. Her hair was really soft. She met his eyes, her green gaze holding his. He couldn't look away.
"Thanks, Potter," she whispered.
He didn't respond because her hand came around the back of his neck, pulling him down as she lifted onto her toes. Lightly, she pressed her lips against his. They had a sweet, rich flavor that sent his head spinning. This was definitely not the same as the last kiss he got from this girl. All he knew was that he wanted more.
The next day dawned clear and seemed to have more of a chill than usual, even with the winter sun reflecting off the snow. James was up earlier than usual on a Saturday. Instead of going to breakfast, though, he sat in the common room, waiting.
At long last, the seventh year girls passed through the room.
But Lily wasn't there.
"Mar," James called, "Where's Lils?"
Marlene looked over at him, shrugging. "She says she's not feeling well, doesn't want to go to Hogsmead. She was in a really good mood this morning. . . " She drifted off, looking at her friends.
Alice nodded. "She was humming and all smiley. You know, it's her birthday."
James nodded. "But?"
Mar shrugged again. "When Ella reminded us it was a Hogsmead weekend, she suddenly got all quiet and sulky. We finally just gave up, she didn't want any prodding, I guess."
The girls all looked at each other, uncomfortable glances passing between them before they walked away.
A few minutes later, James hovered on his broomstick outside the window of Lily's dormitory. He knocked on the glass, drawing the redhead out from behind her bed curtains.
With a looked of disbelief, she went to open the window for him, standing back to let him in.
"How can you be in here, Potter? There's a charm against boys."
"On the stairwell there is," James nodded, "Not on the rest of the rooms. Sirius figured that out a year ago, when he spent a night with—"
"Don't want to know!" Lily interrupted, causing James to laugh. He stopped quickly, though at the look on her face.
"What the hell are you doing here?" she asked in a flat voice.
"I wanted to see why you aren't going to Hogsmead," He told her.
She raised an eyebrow. "It's not your problem, is it? You had better get going. I expect your date will be waiting."
He chuckled. "I don't currently have a date, Lils."
"Don't call me that," she snapped. Then she turned to him, peering up at him with narrowed eyes. "Wait. What?"
"It was a set up," he explained. "She was in on it. We waited for you to walk around the corner so that you would hear me."
"Why on earth would you do that, Potter?" she asked incredulously.
He shoved his hands in his pockets, shrugging, "To get a reaction."
"Out."
"What?"
"Out," she repeated. "Get out."
He watched her for a moment. Then he sighed. "Alright," he said, but he walked towards her, right up to her. One arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against him. His other hand lightly cupped her chin, pulling her face up towards his. "Alright," he said again softly, "But don't tell me it didn't work."
He pressed his lips down on hers, demanding, forceful. The tension between them broke like a dam, flooding the both of them with a fervor and making Lily's knees go weak. As her arms came around his neck, they fought for dominance.
This, Lily thought, was a kiss. A real, world-consuming, earth-shattering kiss.
But he pulled away, turning and grabbing his broom, flying out of the window before she remembered how to breathe.
She added about three things to the list of things she wouldn't forgive Potter for.
(The three things being 1) him playing her the day before to get a reaction, 2) kissing her like that, and 3) ending the kiss.)