Disclaimer: obviously, absolutely nothing here belongs to me.
The clock hanging on the wall of Lily's room ticked past six thirty just as she finished sweeping a mascara brush over her eyelashes. Ever since she'd woken up that morning, a nervous feeling had settled in her stomach. Starting off as slight tingling in the pit of her stomach, the feeling had worsened as seven o'clock came unstoppably closer – the knots in her stomach tightened until she wouldn't have been surprised if she'd discovered a niffler parading around her innards.
She'd been on dates before – a string of sometimes unfortunate, sometimes merely average dates in Hogsmeade that had amounted to nothing more than an unfortunate fumble. She'd even a few had a few dates at her local pub during the summer with muggle boys with dimples. James Potter didn't have dimples. James Potter had two magical parents, what she could only assume to be a mansion, and a probable plethora of house-elves to do his bidding.
Not that she was going anyway. Beaver had delivered a letter the day before yesterday containing a date and time (and other ramblings Lily mentally referred to as "James-isms"), and chewed his way through five owl treats whilst waiting for Lily to scribble a reply. She'd answered in the affirmative, ignoring a voice in the back of her mind warning her against it, and requested his address.
She hadn't heard back off him.
The night before, she'd debated sending her own owl, Hoot, just in case poor Beaver had accidentally dropped the letter into a river on his travels, or if Sirius had started hiding James' post again, like he'd done for the entirety of third year. But, she'd decided the more likely outcome was that James had decided against using Lily for his deception. Plus, Hoot had refused to take any of Lily's letters ever since Beaver had returned Lily's first response.
However, as she was a people-pleaser first, and a Potter-doubter second, she'd dressed in a pale blue dress and tamed her hair to fall in loose waves around her shoulders. She'd even told her mum earlier that she wouldn't be having dinner at home, although she'd avoided questions about where she was going. After all, she didn't have an address to go to.
Still sat at her desk, her eyes kept flicking to the window as if she'd see the tawny form of Beaver flying towards her window. Maybe she'd save herself the embarrassment of telling her mum she'd been stood up for a fake date, and sit in the pub all night instead. Perhaps they'd be a boy with dimples in tonight.
At quarter to the hour, there was a knock at the door. Her heart jumped into her throat before she realised there was no way James Potter would know her address, and the whole point of the night was she was going to his house; there had been no mention of James coming to her house and expanding their charade even further.
"Lily!" came her mum's voice up the stairs, an octave higher than usual. "There's a boy here for you!"
Oh.
Closing her eyes, Lily took a deep breath before pushing herself to her feet and grabbing her wand. She kept her wand aloft as she made her way out of her room and down the stairs (it was worth being extra careful these days), but lowered it when, sure enough, she saw James Potter stood in the main doorway, clad in a dark grey cloak.
He was grinning toothily, an expression she had scarcely seen him wear before. He said something she couldn't make out as she descended the stairs, but her mum laughed in response. It was there and then that Lily decided not to care why James hadn't written her back, or how on earth he'd got her address, because the sound of her mother laughing had become a rare addition to the soundtrack of the Evans household.
"I'd love to introduce you to my mum, Potter," Lily said as she reached bottom step. "But it looks like you've already met."
Both her mother and her fake-date turned towards her. As per her usual uniform these days, her mum was wearing her dressing gown and slippers, but the smile on her face sent waves of happiness through Lily. She'd grown taller than her mum when she was fourteen, and a few inches had separated them ever since, so Lily had to bend her knees to kiss her mum on the cheek.
Lily looked at James, then. His hair was still due a cut, but his jaw looked smoother than she'd last seen it, indicating that he'd shaved for the occasion. He was objectively attractive, a fact she'd accepted years before when he'd grown into his height and his shoulders had filled out, and her mother seemed to have noticed, if the suggestive way she'd raised her eyebrows at her daughter was any indication.
"Yes, James was just telling me about the twelve grandchildren he plans to give me before the century is out," said her mum mildly.
Lily's gaze flew to James, who raised his hands in the air. "I did not say that!" he protested. Lily almost sighed with relief. "I said three."
"Three?" she repeated flatly.
"Unless you want twelve?" He sounded like the very essence of concern. "I think that's a bit adventurous – it's 1977 already, you know."
She'd agreed to one fake-date with him, and he was planning children? "1977, yes, I'm aware, but I wasn't so aware we were having children in the foreseeable future, or any future for that matter."
It was then that Lily looked to her mum for help, and her mum burst out laughing.
James' triumphant voice rose above her mother's giggles. "I told you that would get her!"
Lily tried valiantly to summon a glare, but she could only smile at her mother as the older woman regained her composure. She did, however, manage to roll her eyes in the direction of the boy stood in her doorway.
"Sorry, love," offered her mum, but the sentiment was lost beneath her grin. Lily was reminded that the lines around her mouth were originally from smiling, not frowning. It was refreshing, and Lily felt a lightness she hadn't felt in this house for over a year. "You two better be going."
"It was lovely to meet you, Christine," James said. Her mother, on a first name basis with James Potter. Would wonders never cease? Lily wasn't even on a first name basis with James Potter.
Once they were on the street, the front door to Lily's house firmly shut behind them, James rounded on Lily, his palms raised to face her. "Before you hex me, I introduced myself as your friend from school and then I lied and told your mum I was having a few friends round for a dinner party my parents are throwing. The joke was all her idea," he added quickly, talking a touch faster than usual, as if he was thinking she would actually turn her wand on him in the middle of the street. "I was quite impressed, actually."
Lily was impressed, too, but she didn't say so. "Actually, I was going to say why did you bother apparating here when I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself?"
"You know I'd never doubt your magical prowess, but as my mum says…" he adopted a ridiculous high-pitched voice, "'Women are your equals, if not your betters, James Potter, but don't you dare think that doesn't mean you can't be chivalrous' and I didn't fancy being embarrassed by the wrath of Euphemia Potter on our first date."
"Well, considering I've already been embarrassed by mine, I'll have to make your mum repay the favour. What's the best way to invoke the wrath of Euphemia Potter?"
"It's not like you to cheat, Evans." He held his arm out for her to take. "You'll have to come up with something yourself."
She took his arm. "Challenge accepted."
James sighed, shook his head. "Something tells me the two of you are going to be best mates before dessert."
As a brief grin split her face, she prepared herself for the uncomfortable feeling of apparating. It had been a few months since she'd passed her test, but the feeling of being unnaturally squeezed from all directions wasn't something that was easy to get used to. She'd never travelled by Side-Along Apparition before, but, although she'd been known to point out where James was lacking in the past, she couldn't say a word about his magical talent. If she remembered correctly, he was one of the first in the year to apparate into his hoop, whilst she was almost bursting a blood vessel staring into hers.
The relief that came with knowing he hadn't splinched them both was overshadowed when she got a look of the house they were now stood in front of.
She'd expected a manor, at least, or a castle, at most. Instead, she was greeted by a modest-looking two-story house. It was bigger than the house she grew up in, naturally, and more space than a family of three would need, but she felt her nerves lessen slightly as she took it in. Normal was the word she'd use to describe it. Other than the sprawling fields she could make out surrounding the property, the house itself wouldn't look out of place on Lily's street.
James' other hand covered Lily's, still on his arm. "Ready?"
She tore her gaze away from the cat perched in a downstairs window, eyes trained on the two teenagers. "A room of three Potters," she teased. "I can hardly wait."
"Ah, the old Evans move of hiding feelings with sarcasm." His appraisal was accurate, but she wasn't going to let him hear that.
She was silent as she released her grip on his arm. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him look at her in surprise as she instead captured his hand with hers, but she merely nodded her head forwards. Lily had starred in the school play in her last year of primary school, and had thrown her heart and soul into the role, so she knew starting strong was the best way to pull off a character.
"Just be yourself," he told her as they walked towards the house. "They'll love you."
She smiled at him to show she appreciated the comment. "You mean a slightly less bitchy version of myself?"
They'd reached the door – there were hanging baskets bursting with flowers either side of the door. There were no lilies or petunias in sight, which pleased Lily to no end. When her and her sister were little, they had scoured every flower arrangement they saw together in a competition of sorts to see whose namesake was the most popular. Even now, Lily couldn't help but play the game in her head.
"Nah, my mum'll join in with you taking the piss out of me, it's a favourite activity for you both." He paused with his hand on the door and met her gaze. "Just maybe don't let it slip that you hate me."
"I don't hate you."
"Nah, I know," he said as he pushed the door open. He lowered his voice. "Just strongly dislike."
He stepped into the white-walled corridor beyond and held the door open for her. She could see a staircase at the end of the hallway, and various doors along the way. "Maybe not strongly."
His laugh reverberated down the corridor. She dropped his hand as she stepped forwards and passed him, suddenly aware that she was in James Potter's house – the boy that she'd screamed at in front of their entire year and told him she'd rather date a sea creature – as his girlfriend. As far as his parents knew, anyway. Her heart was thumping in her chest.
She'd barely made it three steps into the house when the tabby ginger cat she'd seen in the window was circling around her feet in a figure of eight, preventing her from moving forward. She bent down to pick it up, ignoring James' protests that the cat was evil.
"A vicious beast, you say?" she chuckled as she threw James a disbelieving glance over her shoulder, the cat purring in her arms, arching its head towards her hand as she stroked its soft fur, feeling more relaxed instantly.
"You're joking! That thing barely tolerates me, and he attacks Sirius every time he comes into the house!"
Lily laughed again and opened her mouth to reply when a teasing female voice called out from a room beyond. "That's because I've trained him well."
Euphemia Potter, Lily learned as the older woman emerged from a room on the left, was a short woman (shorter than Lily's five-foot-six frame, at least) with styled grey hair falling to her chin and a wrinkled face accentuated by the beaming smile on her pink-painted lips. She was wearing a black and white spotted apron over purple robes. "Lily!" Her honeytoned voice was nothing like the overly high voice James had mocked before.
"Mrs Potter, it's so lovely to meet you," she said, trying to dislodge the cat from her arms. Would James' mum think she was rude if she didn't immediately hold her hand out to shake? "I've heard so much about you." She hoped she didn't sound fake. Although, what she had heard of James' mother had endeared her to the woman already, so she supposed she wasn't lying.
"All terrible, I hope?" The older woman's gaze dropped to the feline in Lily's arms, who was attempting to bury himself into Lily's dress, much to her dismay. "Oh, don't try to drop him now. He's very clingy."
"Mostly just bad, only one in three comments was terrible."
Mrs. Potter laughed out loud at this and rushed forwards to envelope Lily in a hug, squishing the cat between them, who protested with a muffled yelp. Lily managed to extract one of her arms and wrap it around Mrs. Potter's shoulders. "And call me Euphemia, dear," she said warmly as she pulled back. "And that's Atticus you're holding, my favourite son."
"Oi! Am I at least second favourite?" James had moved to stand next to Lily, and his hand found the small of her back. She didn't jump at the contact, even though she could feel the pleasant heat of his hand through her coat. She willed her cheeks not to redden in front of Euphemia – if her and James had been dating for a few months, as per their cover story, she wouldn't blush at the miniscule contact. Instead, she leaned into his touch as if she was used to it.
"Don't be silly; it's always gone Atticus, Sirius and then you," said Euphemia sweetly as she deftly plucked the cat from Lily's arms. "Take the poor girl's coat, James, what have I told you? Dinner will be ready in ten minutes."
James saluted his mother, who patted him on the cheek affectionately before returning into the room she'd come out of. The kitchen, Lily presumed, from the smell and occasional clanging noises she'd heard since arriving. As promised, James took Lily's coat and hung it on one of several hooks that were floating along the walls. He told her that his memories from his early years in this house involved a house elf named Betsy ("Typical – did she spoon feed you as well?" "Only until I was seven."), but upon retiring, Euphemia sent the elf to work at Hogwarts to keep herself busy. Apparently, Betsy was the reason James was able to sneak so much food into Gryffindor Tower; she'd shown him where the kitchens were in their first year. The knowledge took the mystery out of a question she'd pondered in the back of her mind for years. She'd have been disappointed in the real answer (Dorcas insisted James and his friends had found the kitchen by blasting a hole in the floor of the Great Hall), but the image of a much shorter and only slightly less mature James galloping excitably down corridors after a house elf cheered her up considerably.
He led her into the kitchen, a spacious room adorned with wooden cabinets where various utensils were busy chopping, stirring and slicing. She took a moment to appreciate the feel of magic in the house, the way even the particles in the air seemed to be brimming with something beyond belief, before looking around. There was a wooden table in the middle of the room, upon which Atticus was lounging. She was introduced to James' father, a rather tall man stooped slightly with age with a booming laugh that Lily witnessed after she offered herself up to help prepare the food. Mr Potter ("Please call me Monty, or Fleamont if you prefer, just not Flea, as James insisted for years.") shooed them through into the dining room before Euphemia, stood at the stove humming to herself, could hear such blasphemy.
What she'd seen so far of the house had been a pleasant relief. It was large, yes, but nothing as showy as she had imagined. And then she walked into the dining room. The explosion of red made her feel like she'd accidentally stumbled into the Gryffindor Common Room. Sure enough, there were two Gryffindor banners hanging on opposite walls, and a gold chandelier hanging from the ceiling between. The long table was surrounded by ten red-cushioned chairs, although only the four closest to them were set. Lily was happy to note that the cutlery, at least, wasn't gold.
"I feel like I've walked into your head," Lily told James as she drifted across the wooden floor, gazing at the pictures that littered the walls. She saw pictures of James' father waving his wand over a cauldron, Euphemia laughing, James sprinting after Atticus in overgrown grass, James and Sirius hitting each-other with broomsticks.
"My dad's head, actually," he corrected her, joining her by the roaring fireplace. When she glanced at him, she saw he had a faint smile on his lips and his cheeks were tinged pink from the flames. "My mum let him decorate only the dining room since he holds so many company dinners, and we only use it on special occasions otherwise."
"I'm a special occasion?"
"I told you," he lowered his voice. "Only the best for my girlfriend."
Right. If he wanted a fake girlfriend, she'd give him one.
The laugh she let out was slightly louder, slightly more high-pitched than usual, and it had the desired effect of Euphemia glancing away from the stove through the archway into the dining room. Lily looked away from the older woman before she made eye contact and instead looked at James. His eyes were wide, surprised as she put her hand on his upper arm and leaned in.
"Your mum doesn't seem the type to believe a half-hearted act," she whispered.
The smirk on his face was wicked as she pulled away. "Before we do this, are you sure you can resist me?"
"Oh, how will I manage to resist that great big head of yours?"
"I'm serious –"
"You're Sirius?" She took her hand off his arm in a hurry. "I was promised a date with James Potter, now if you'll excuse me…"
He caught her by the waist as she made to move past him. She couldn't stop the soft intake of breath at the contact, but she hoped he didn't notice. And if he did, she hoped he'd realise she was a teenage girl with hormones. Hormones which, apparently, liked being held at the waist. He was laughing either way, the movement of his chest against her back. "I knew you meant Beaver was the cute one."
She twisted in his grip to roll her eyes at him, but instead she found herself laughing along with him.
It was then that James' parents entered the room, Euphemia clearing her throat in an unmistakably amused way. Four plates had appeared on the table, piled high.
Lily look the seat opposite Fleamont, with James on her right. He smirked at her and raised his eyebrows. Half-hearted act, indeed. It was nice to know she still had the skills that had earnt her a standing ovation back in year six.
Euphemia, Lily knew from a quick Potter crash-course in the Leaky Cauldron after she'd agreed to this charade, had worked at Sleekeazy's Hair Care before her retirement, but she could've put any muggle Private Investigator to shame. She supposed Euphemia had wanted to start with the easy questions and began by asking about Lily's family.
Instead of balking and changing the subject immediately when told Lily's father had passed the year before as most people had done since it happened, Euphemia told Lily how sorry she was and how awful she knew losing a parent could be, and then proceeded to ask Lily questions about her dad. James had opened his mouth, at this point, perhaps to rescue Lily from his mother, but Lily had smiled and told the Potters how her dad used to take her to work when she was younger and let her tinker with the cars he was fixing. She told them how Petunia had refused to return after she got grease in her hair, so Lily and her father spent countless afternoons alone in the garage. By the time she'd finished reminiscing, all of their plates were cleared. James had looked at her as Euphemia sent the plates into the kitchen, his expression unreadable at first, then his lips turned upwards.
It was strange, she thought as she returned James' smile, uplifted by memories of her father, that James hadn't told his mum to avoid the subject. People usually did. She'd visited Dorcas for a few days over the Christmas holidays and had gotten the distinct feeling none of the family would dare to bring it up. She knew her friend's heart was in the right place, and she appreciated the thought, but she wasn't ashamed that her father was gone, and she wanted to respect his memory by spreading his memory where she could. Perhaps it had slipped James' mind.
Euphemia re-entered the dining room then, brandishing a treacle tart. "I hear this is your favourite, Lily," she said, setting the tart down the middle of the table.
Lily nearly squealed with glee. Nearly four long weeks had passed since she'd last been blessed by treacle tart. "How did you know?" she asked, delighted.
"The way to a witch's heart is through her stomach, right, Mum?" James said as he cut into the tart and handed a plated piece to Lily.
"If you listen to more of my advice, you might actually continue the Potter line one of these days," Euphemia said matter-of-factly, accepting her plate off James.
James threw his hands up in the air. "I'm seventeen!"
"Yes," agreed Euphemia, nodding once. "And I'm eighty-seven, and I'd quite like to meet my grandchild."
A chunk of tart was on Lily's fork, but she paused mid-trajectory, spotting an opportunity. "Elvendork deserves to meet your parents, James. I don't mind rushing."
James' head whipped round to face Lily, his eyes wide beneath his glasses. "Elvendork?" he echoed.
"Yes, Elvendork." She popped the tart in her mouth – it was delicious, but not as satisfying as the look on James' face.
Euphemia clapped her hands together. "Oh lovely, will it be a boy or a girl, do you think?"
Lily paused, thinking. "A boy, I think, with his dad's hair, but really I picked Elvendork because it's unisex."
"Or a girl with your eyes, wouldn't that be fantastic, Monty?"
Fleamont, who had been tucking into his treacle tart whilst watching the exchange, put down his fork. "My prized family heirloom will not be going to a child called Elvendork."
"Like it's any worse than Fleamont!" James exclaimed, apparently having recovered, though he shot Lily a covert dirty look. She responded with an expression she hoped conveyed 'challenge completed' to him but also 'madly in love' to his parents.
Euphemia lifted her napkin to her eyes, wiping away pretend tears. "Look at my baby defending his baby."
Lily grinned at Euphemia's gesture, but she was puzzled. "Prized family heirloom?"
"You haven't told your girlfriend about the cloak?" Fleamont asked, frowning.
"Oh, the invisibility cloak!" Lily said quickly. "He told me about it a few weeks ago, but I didn't realise it was an heirloom." A lie. "Although I already knew about it. It hasn't been able to hide all four of them in years, yet I still see eight disembodied legs walking across the common room." The truth.
There was a relieved note to James' laugh. "Sorry, Dad."
"It's your father's fault really, we both know our son is a dunce, and still he insisted on giving it to you."
"I'll forgive the fact you're flaunting our secret heirloom if you let me tell the story." Fleamont pushed his rounded glasses up his nose, his eyes twinkling.
James groaned. "Can't you just make me do the washing up by hand, instead?"
"Don't listen to him," said Lily. "He's just moody because I chose our future child's name without him. I want to hear the story."
Fleamont inclined his head of sparse grey hair towards her. "I'll assume you've never heard the Tale of the Three Brothers? It's a wizarding myth."
Lily shook her head. The older wizard clapped his hands together in glee. When she glanced over at James, he was mid-eye roll, but there was a small, indulgent smile on his face.
"It all began a long time ago, on a lonely, winding road at twilight…" Fleamont's voice was low, his tone practiced, and his words flowed like he'd told this story time and time again, which she supposed he had if James' reaction was any indication. "Three brothers were walking along when they reached a treacherous river which could not be crossed by any physical means. Luckily, the brothers were blessed with magic and easily conjured a bridge with their wands. When they were halfway across, a hooded figure appeared before them," he paused and took a sip from his goblet. "It was Death."
All three Potter's looked at Lily, then, as if they were expecting her to scoff and dismiss the story. "I found out magic existed when I was eleven, Death turning up now wouldn't surprise me."
Euphemia laughed, and then nodded, her eyes trained on her son, not Lily. James leaned back in his chair, so Lily couldn't see his expression without craning her neck, which she was tempted to do until Fleamont began speaking again, capturing her full attention with his rasping tone.
"Death was expecting to collect three souls from the river that night, and he felt as though the brothers had cheated him. Death was cunning, however, and congratulated the brothers on their survival. He told them he would award each of them a gift of their choosing.
"The eldest brother was a combative man, and asked for a wand which would beat any other wand in existence. Death reached for an elder tree standing on the banks of the river and fashioned a wand more powerful than any other.
"The second brother, an arrogant man, wanted to humiliate Death even more and asked for a way to bring the deceased back from the grave. Death picked a stone from the riverbank and crafted it into a Resurrection Stone.
"The youngest brother was humble and, despite his age, the wisest of the three brothers. He didn't trust Death and asked for something that would let him go forth without Death following. Death was forced to hand over his own Invisibility Cloak."
"And there it is," muttered James. Lily shushed him and waved a dismissive hand in his direction whilst keeping her eyes on his father.
"The first brother sought out a wizard with whom he had quarrelled and killed him instantly, leaving him on the floor. He walked to a nearby inn to spend the night. Word had already spread of the elder wand's power, and a bloodthirsty wizard crept into the inn and slit the oldest brother's throat before taking the wand for his own. And so, Death took the first brother.
"The second brother returned to his lonely house. He turned the stone thrice in hand, and the figure of the girl he had once hoped to marry appeared before him. He was overjoyed, yet the girl was sad and cold, and felt separate from him. She did not truly belong in the mortal world to which she had returned, and she suffered. Finally, the second brother was driven mad and committed suicide to join her. And so, Death took the second brother."
"A cheerful tale," commented Lily, quietly.
"This is the good part," James assured her. "And the only relevant part, funnily enough."
Euphemia glared at him. "Poor little Elvendork will have to do without a father soon."
"Carry on, Dad, please. For Elvendork."
Despite the interruption, Fleamont picked up immediately. "Death searched for the youngest brother for years after he claimed the eldest two, but was never successful. It was only when the third brother grew very old that he took off the Cloak and passed it on to his son. He greeted Death as an old friend, departing this life as equals."
"So, the cloak James runs amok in belonged to Death?"
Fleamont grinned. On first glance, it was hard to tell the similarities between him and his son, but the grin was all James. "The very same."
"Wow, that's…" she paused, searching for the words.
"Untrue?" James supplied.
Fleamont shrugged and settled back in his chair. "My father told me that story when he gave me the cloak, as did his mother before him, and so on through generations, just as I did to you."
"Why can't it be true?" Lily challenged, turning to look at James. His arms were folded across his chest.
"Because it's ridiculous."
She scoffed. "It's ridiculous that I could turn you into a rat right now and leave you stuck like that forever, but that doesn't mean it's not true."
"Out of all the animals in the world, and you'd turn me into a rat?" he asked incredulously, wrinkling his nose.
"It's what you deserve."
Out of the corner of her eye, Lily saw Euphemia visibly suppress a laugh, her shoulders jolting upwards.
"Alright, fine," James conceded, sitting forwards and placing his palms on the table. "Maybe it was given to him by Death, but the story still doesn't make sense. How did he have kids without ever taking it off?"
"You know full well two people can fit under that cloak!"
It was only when Euphemia erupted in laughter that Lily realised the implication of what she'd said. Fleamont was shaking his head in what she hoped was mock disgust. She was sure her face was on fire. "I didn't mean it like that! I meant – you and Sirius disappear under it all the time!"
Now James joined in with his mother's raucous chuckles.
Lily met Fleamont's eyes. "We haven't – " she began desperately, but he cut her off.
"If you want to defile any more family heirlooms, dear, I'm sure we have some plates from the fifteenth century somewhere."
Euphemia managed to calm her laughter enough to say, "Little Elvendork will certainly have an interesting beginning."
Oh, Merlin. She couldn't help but join in on the laughter, even though her cheeks were still burning.
After what felt like hours of stimulating conversation later, in which Lily learnt all about Sleakeazy's and how James' hair was the only known substance to not respond to the treatment (according to both of his parents – although Lily suspected James just refused to use it, given his tendency to manually muss the strands) and she told the Potter's about her life pre-magic, Euphemia exclaimed that it was past dark, and Lily had better be going before her mother started to worry.
"She doesn't worry when I'm out late," James muttered, low enough so his parents wouldn't hear. There was no risk of that happening, though, as Euphemia had flounced into the kitchen with Fleamont trailing behind her, levitating the now empty plate that had once held the treacle tart. "I think she hopes I'll never come back."
"Oh, come on, it's obvious how much she adores you, her bark's worse than her bite."
James lifted his shoulders and grinned in agreement. "Much like yours, I think."
Lily pushed her chair back and stood. "My bite is just fine, thank you."
Halfway through rising out of his own chair, James chuckled. "Is that an under the invisibility cloak observation I'll have to make?"
"You are insufferable," she told him, pushing her palm into his shoulder so he collapsed back into his seat.
"Shouldn't have agreed to be my girlfriend, then."
"For one night, which is thankfully over."
"I'd miss out the thankfully part when you say bye to my mum, she'd have your head."
"We're kindred souls, me and your mum, I've decided, so she'd realise it was because of you and not her fantastic hosting skills."
"Her hosting skills?" James scoffed, but Lily had already breezed past him on her way into the kitchen.
Both of the elderly Potter's were clearing up. One glare from Euphemia was enough to tell Lily it was no use offering to help. Instead, she thanked them both profusely, and was rewarded with a hug from both of them.
"Don't linger dropping Lily off please, James," Euphemia said, eyeing James as he ambled into the kitchen. "It's not safe."
Lily opened her mouth to say that she'd be fine getting back on her own at the same time James said, "Don't worry about me, I'll be back in five minutes."
Disagreeing with James was not a new concept to Lily – in fact, it was her forte. She knew the challenging arch of James' eyebrow well, and the purse of his lips as he dared her to disagree was as familiar to her as her favourite armchair in the common room. What she hadn't known is he'd learnt both of the gestures from a different parent.
Night had well and truly fallen by the time Lily had given Atticus a final pat on the head and apparated back home. James had suggestively offered to apparate her again, but she'd turned on the spot defiantly, feeling a surge of victory when James materialised a moment after she had done.
"You shouldn't Apparate into the middle of the street, you know," James warned as they walked up to Lily's porch.
"Don't worry," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "Everyone who lives round here would much rather admit they were crazy than that they saw a girl appear out of thin air."
"I didn't mean it like that, although I thought Lily Evans would respect the law more."
"I do respect the law!" she protested. "Except when it's really inconvenient, and what did you mean it like, then?"
They'd reached the door, and Lily instinctively reached for the handle, but dropped her arm to her side when he answered her question.
"My Mum was being serious, it's not safe."
She turned to him. Tilting her head to the side, she met his gaze. "It isn't safe in Cokesworth?"
"It isn't safe anywhere, Evans."
She knew that; the whole wizarding world knew that. She felt the knowledge as acutely as she could feel her own heartbeat, the fear that had nestled underneath her ribs and refused to vacate. She understood the truth of his words more than he did, even, because it was her that was threatened, her bloodline that made her tainted in some people's eyes. She wasn't about to confess that to James Potter, though, so she made her voice sound as light and teasing as she could. "Didn't realise you were so concerned about my safety."
"Then you don't know me very well at all," he said, his voice low. She kept her gaze on a tree behind his shoulder, unsure of the feeling in her stomach. He cleared his throat. "Remus always says I'm either pushing my friends headfirst into danger, or I'm trying to wrap them up in blankets to keep them safe."
Another swoop in her stomach that she couldn't name. "Well, if Remus says it, then it must be true."
"Are you going to break up with me for Remus?"
She smiled. "I wish, but he won't have me, I'll just have to fake break up with you for myself."
Clutching his heart to his chest, James staggered backwards a few steps. "And with that heartbreak, I'll bid you goodnight."
Finally, her hand found the door handle. "Night, Potter."
She had one foot in the hallway when she heard his voice again. "I really appreciate that you did this for me, you know."
She was mid-way through turning back around, a reply on her lips – although she wasn't sure whether she was going to tell him he was lucky for bagging a witch like her for one night, or that it was no problem and she'd really enjoyed her night – when she heard the unmistakeable crack of Disapparation, and he was gone.
A/N: Okay, so, I didn't expect this chapter to take this long, or be this long, so I hope it was worth the wait!