If she is counting right, this is the third time they've had an argument this month.
It is frustrating, in part because this marks the third time Potter has gotten into an altercation with Severus. It seemed that neither boy could be near the other without starting a fight. It started when they were eleven and now, four years later, it has gotten much worse. Whether it is Potter making a spectacle or Severus cornering Potter when he is unguarded, each conflict is messy and usually lasts until Lily comes to break it up.
"I didn't start it this time, Evans," says Potter, rubbing at a cut on his face and smearing his cheek red.
Lily knocks his hand away from himself to prevent further damage. "You never start it. And neither does Severus. If I listened to the both of you, I'd have to believe your duels spontaneously happened mid-jinx."
"Yeah, but which one of us is more trustworthy?" he mutters under his breath. He wipes his bloodied hand on his trousers distractedly.
Lily makes a noise with her throat. "Enough. I'm not here to be your agony aunt and listen to you moan on about Sev."
Potter scowls at the nickname of his rival. "Then why are you here, Evans?"
"To talk some bloody sense into you," she says, running a hand through her hair. "One of you needs to end this. I've already tried talking to Severus and he practically retches when I mention your name."
"Is this supposed to endear me to Snivellus?" Potter asks mockingly. "You ought to work on your persuasion skills."
"Stop using that stupid name. And stop wiping your hand on your trousers, you're getting them dirty," she reprimands, pulling his hand away from his leg.
He moves his hand back as if she has stung him. "I'd say thanks, Mum, but I actually like my mum." Potter says.
Lily rolls her eyes. Scanning his appearance, she sees multiple open cuts. Severus hadn't donned any signs of magical violence when she'd passed by him earlier, but it looked as if James had given him a good punch or two. It strikes her as odd that Severus chooses to use magic to fight and Potter to use Muggle methods, despite the fact their upbringings would indicate the opposite. "Whatever, Potter. My point is that I'm asking you to ease up on him."
"You can't honestly believe he'd do the same. Git doesn't know how to be honest."
"Yes, I can," she says, temper rising. "He's my friend, Potter."
"But why?" Potter bursts out, his eyes narrowed in confusion behind his glasses. It is as if this question has been boiling beneath the surface for some time. "How could you be mates with someone like that?"
"He's a far sight better than your lot," Lily retorts acerbically. Potter's expression makes her want to take it back. She knows that above all else, James Potter is fiercely protective of his friends. But she acknowledges that she is at least partially right, because what sort of friends think that enlarging other boys' heads or disappearing their hair is funny?
"Don't compare my friends to him. Sniv— for Merlin's sake, Snape," Potter corrects at her scowl, "is a bad bloke. He calls Muggle-borns names when you're not around. His mates talk about joining Voldemort when they're older. He messes about with dark jinxes. I should know, he's used some of them on me," he adds, clenching his fists.
Lily sees more truth in the accusations than she wants to, but still, she must defend her friend. She sees good in Severus Snape yet. She steps forward. "You don't know him—"
James meets her step with one of his own. "I know enough."
"You and your mates are always provoking him—"
"And I suppose the first year Muggle-borns are provoking him to use the M-word?" He punctuates his sentence with another step, as if looming over her will prove his point.
"I've never heard him say it." They are nearly chest-to-chest now.
"'Course he wouldn't say it in front of you."
"And I'm supposed to take your word for it?"
"Take the word of the kids he taunts."
She makes a noise of frustration, pulling at her hair. "Potter, you are the most hypocritical, ridiculous—"
Lily does not get to finish her sentence as lips that are not her own are touching her mouth. Potter's lips. She is startled and doesn't know what to do, never having kissed a boy before. She doesn't know whether to close her eyes or keep them open or where to put her hands or if she should even be letting him kiss her because for God's sake they were the middle of an argument.
Potter seems to find his way around the situation just fine. He has her leaning gently against the wall behind her. One hand is weaved into her hair and is tugging and pulling in the most delightful manner. His other hand is pressing against her burning cheek and his lips are brushing against hers repeatedly and bloody hell is that his tongue?
He pulls away abruptly. Potter looks at his hands and looks at her. His eyes are wide and he is as red as a Quaffle. He seems more shocked by his actions than she is. "I'm sorry," he says, his voice cracking. He untangles himself from her and steps away. "I'm sorry," he repeats.
And he runs.
This will be a series of drabbles in the same story universe but not necessarily in order. Hope you enjoy.