We Were Not Magnificent

by themorningbirdie

"James Potter looked at me like he had never seen me before. 'The world would be a better place, Lily Evans, if more of us were even a little bit like you.'" It's the summer before sixth year and Lily Evans' life is forever changed. She must learn to live in two worlds, one where she is hated by her sister for being a witch, and one where she is despised for being Muggle born.

4. Chapter 4

Hello all! Another chapter here! I quite struggled with the Lily and James scene at the end of this and I would love your feedback on it. I'm sorry if it's all moving a bit slow but this was my last chapter of that, I promise I have a plotline all planned out and adventure is coming soon. I would love it if you could take some time and review even if it's just to pop in and say hi! Thanks for all the follows and favorites you gorgeous humans. Also, I was thinking of making a Tumblr blog for the ascetics of this story. Would anyone whatsoever be interested in that? Just an idea that popped into my head and I thought I'd see what you guys thought! Have a lovely weekend!

Chapter Four

Not the needle, nor the thread,

the lost decree

saying nothing, that's enough for me

Sirius,

Sorry it took me a few days to write, Marlene and I had to hunt down a phone in town so I could ring my cousin Finn(refer to your Muggle Studies texts if you don't know what I'm talking about). We wound up riding bikes, and not the motor kind you are so fond of, for several miles before we found one in a dodgy pub with terrible chips and clientele. If you ever find yourself ten miles north of the Mckinnon's household in a pub called "Milly's", I suggest you flee or starve.

Anyway, Finn says he and his mates would be more than happy to take a look at your bike next weekend if you're free? They have a garage they work out of that's not far outside of London. Apparently it's stocked with all sorts of parts but they can always order some for you too if necessary! Unfortunately for you Finn seems quite taken with the idea of meeting all of my "posh private school friends" and also wanted to know if we would all go to the pub for a few hours after he takes a look at your bike? I tried to explain to him that you probably wouldn't want to join but he insisted I at least extend the invitation. Don't feel any pressure to come if you don't want to, we will come up with some excuse.

How do you plan on transporting the bike? Let me know if Marly and I can help!

Hope all is well!

Lily

My Dearest and Most Beautiful Lily-Flower,

I know what a phone is you dolt, I'm not a complete fool, and besides Remus goes on and on about how much more convenient they are (which bloody well makes sense because he's shit at writing me back in the summer, that lazy sod). And though I am sure it will break Milly's heart, I will do my best to avoid her establishment.

That all sounds great! James and I would be thrilled to join you and your cousin at the pub next Saturday! He sounds like a decent bloke! If he can fix this hunk of metal I call a motorbike I might just kiss him, or let James kiss you...or something celebratory like that. We'll see.

I'll talk to Charlus, whose James' dad by the way, and see what he suggests. He's thrilled we are getting out and spending a day with Muggles. Never seen a man so excited about a broken motorbike in my life. We can talk details tomorrow though, seeing as you are Mar are joining us for the Harpies game. Come ready for the glorious spectacle of speed and precision that is the Harpies offense. And tell Marlene to keep her cheering under control because I won't have her embarrassing the lot of us and making small children cry again. I won't have it Evans! And you best keep yourself under control too you wild Quidditch obsessed minx. We will see your gorgeous face tomorrow Evans!

With all the love I possess in my heart,

Sirius

PS. Don't mind James tomorrow if you show up and he wets himself. He's been a bloody mess all week.

I tap the toes of my high top sneakers together nervously as Mr. Mckinnon has us gather around the massive fireplace in the main sitting room. It, like everything else in the house, is ornately decorated and completely pristine. My heart flutters with nerves, though whether it is because I am about to travel by Floo powder for the first time in my life or the fact that I am going to James Potter's house, I am not sure. If anyone had told me at the end of last term that I would see James Potter over the summer, much less attending a Quidditch game with his family, I would not have believed them for even a moment. And yet here I am. I wonder how James and I are going to pull this off. I doubt he wants to explain our history to his mother, so civility is crucial for everyone sake, but I also doubt that he can control himself from poking fun at me. I hope I have enough control not to snap at him in front of everyone. For my part, the plan is politeness and avoidance. I'm not sure how possible avoidance is actually going to be but I am damn well going to try.

Mr. Mckinnon pushes me forward, not entirely gently. "Get on up there Lily. We have you girls running late already I'm afraid. They were expecting you fifteen minutes ago."

Marlene snorts at this and glares at her father, "And who's fault is that? You're the one who insisted we go out for breakfast this morning. You could at least give Lily the chance to change, she doesn't look the slightest bit ready for a Quidditch match."

I tug at my casual black crop-top self consciously. This had been what I was planning to wear to the game all along. Is it not right? Is there a certain way people are supposed to dress for Quidditch matches? I suppose I always wear my Gryffindor gear when I attend games at school but this is entirely different. I steal a glance at Marlene's outfit which consists of a green cap and tee-shirt, both with the Harpies emblem shining out proudly in gold.

"Oh hush Marlene, Lily looks just fine, and there's no time for changing now. The Potter's were nice enough to offer you their box seats and I won't have you being rude and showing up half an hour after you were supposed to." He offers me his hand and hurriedly helps me into the fireplace. It is so large I don't even have to hunch over to get in. From somewhere above me on the mantle Mr. Mckinnon extracts a velvet bag filled with some sort of gray looking powder. "Now Lily take a handful of this and when you're ready just throw it on the ground in front of you and say 'The Potter residence' very very clearly. Understand?"

My hand is shaking as I catch hold of some of the powder but I nod anyway. I hope it's not as unpleasant as Apparating was. I am about to throw it on the ground but then I hesitate and look up at Marlene a in a bit of a panic. "Wait. Is this going to take me directly into their house? I can't knock or anything? Is that going to be a bit rude?" Why didn't I ask Marlene to go first? Why do I have to be the first one to appear in the Potter's fireplace?

Mr. Mckinnon huffs at me a bit but smiles kindly anyway. "No child it is not rude. What is rude is being late." He waves his hands in a shooing motion, "Now off with you, we'll see you back here tonight after your day of fun."

I nod and take a deep breath, "The Potter residence!" I try to enunciate as much as possible and wind up rather shouting as I throw the powder at my feet.

There is a familiar tugging feeling in my navel and it's like I am spinning a bit out of control on some sort of poorly constructed roller coaster. It lasts for a split second before it stops as soon as it began. I land with a loud "oomph"(on my feet this time thankfully) and my toe catches on my heel and I stumble forward into a pair of seemly waiting arms.

I catch hold of two large forearms, desperately steadying myself. I certainly don't need to take another spill and make Mrs. Potter believe I am the absolute worst at all forms of magical travel. I look up, ready to thank my rescuer, and jump slightly as my eyes rise to meet a pair of warm hazel ones.

"Alight Evans?" James asks, his fingers still encircled gently around my arms. His hands are so large that they almost engulf my upper forearm completely. I am so shocked that I find myself staring up at him and lingering like some sort of idiot. His thumb begins to make an idle circle against my skin, seemingly of its own accord. I realize this is the first time in my life Potter has ever actually touched me.

I jump away from the contact and try to straighten my inevitably disheveled appearance, tugging down at the hem of my shorts. "Yes, yes," I wave my hand dismissively as though I meant to stumble into his house and his arms unannounced "quite alright Potter. Thanks for the assistance."

I take a few steps back so I am no longer eye level with his chest. It seems a far safer distance.

He rocks uncomfortably on his feet and bites his lower lip. He takes a step towards me, hands outstretched like he is going to grab me again but when I shrink away he immediately thinks better of it takes a step back as well. He lets out a defeated sounding sigh and runs a nervous hand through his hair. "Look, Evans I-" but he never gets to finish because Marlene appears in the fireplace, sputtering and cursing through the smoke.

"Hate bloody fucking Floo powder." She says in way of greeting to James and he rights himself in her presence, whatever look of nervousness that was on his face is now gone.

"Welcome to my home Marlene. I see you are ready for the match." He says, eyes dancing with amusement.

Marlene, who has been here a million times before, waves her hand dismissively and straightens the Harpies cap on her head.

"Do we have time for a few rounds of one on one outside? I've been trying to get Lily to fly with me but she's bloody useless and I'm getting slow." Marlene's excitement is apparent and she looks about ready to jump out of her own skin. It's nice to see her so happy. Her usual approach to life is to pretend like nothing excites her, and in her defense, she pulls off the nonchalant "devil may care" attitude quite well. Most people even believe it. When it comes to Quidditch though, she lights up like a firework. A dangerous, out of control, might kill you on accident kind of firework, but firework nonetheless.

James looks down at his watch, which has a large golden face and a black leather band, I note that it could not possibly have been cheap. "Yeah we've got an hour or so. As long as you don't mind me whipping your ass…" Marlene tries to duck out of the way but James catches her under his arm and puts her in a brotherly looking headlock. I see them spend time together at school but this familiarity is different, more familial somehow. They could be siblings. I feel a twinge of guilt for how much I talked ill of him last year to Marlene. For the millionth time this week I am grateful for her never failing faithfulness as a friend.

She curses him and starts taking swings at his stomach but laughs the whole time while James marches her to the back door. I hang back wringing my hands. I'm sure it's not the last time today I will feel like an outsider.

"Come along Evans," James calls out over his shoulder, "Everyone's outside having lunch!"

I follow quickly, trying to take in as much of the Potter residence as I can. It's large, certainly, and not entirely unlike Marlene's house, but there is something about the Potter's residence that feels a bit more homey and relaxed. Perhaps it's the slight disarray of things in the sitting room, or perhaps it's that all of the decorations are Gryffindor gold and crimson, but something about it makes me feel relaxed. I'd never spent much time thinking about where James grew up, but now that I see it before me I can't imagine him anywhere else.

I follow them out silently, hoping beyond hope that they don't ask me to join them in their game. Marlene was not kidding when she said I was a shit flyer.

Sirius and a man I have never seen before are sitting at a large, wooden picnic table, an outrageous amount of food piled on both of their plates. Sirius looks much happier than when I last saw him. There is some color in his cheeks and a genuine smile lighting his face. It makes me think that the trouble from the outside world must feel a bit farther for him when he's here under the protection of the Potter's eclectic garden. I hope that's the case.

"Ah! Marly! And Lily-Flower!" Sirius says through a mouthful of food, jumping up from his seat. "Welcome, welcome my beauties!"

Marlene and I both screw up our faces at him. I am surprised when I find myself hugging him back when he greets me with a bone crushing embrace. Of all the people who could make me feel welcome I was not expecting it to be Sirius Black.

If James was tense about our friendship before at the party he seems to be more relaxed about it now as Sirius puts me back on my feet he is smiling at us. I turn to see Marlene greeting James' father with a kiss on the cheek, which is very unlike her but for some reason seems to be perfectly reasonable in this case.

Sirius drapes a lazy arm over my shoulder and leads me to the table, "Charlus may I introduce the most infamously beautiful Lily Evans." I feel my face flush with embarrassment and I elbow Sirius in the side.

I reach out to grasp his hand, hoping my own is not sweaty with nerves. "It's a pleasure to meet you sir."

Mr. Potter's eyes dance with amusement as he takes my hand warmly in his own. I see where James gets his dazzling smile from when his father offers me the exact same one. "Miss Evans, the pleasure is truly all mine. Your reputation precedes you, my dear girl."

I look over my shoulder at this and catch James eye. He is blushing furiously and glances away. How bizarre. Never in my life have I seen Potter blush.

"First one to the broom closet gets to ride the new Nimbus!" Potter yells like a five year old and takes off. Unsurprisingly Marlene and Sirius are hot on his heels. I stay firmly where I am and none of them look behind to see if I have followed. I don't know whether to be grateful or miffed that I have been left alone, once again, with one of Potter's parents.

I awkwardly take a seat across from Mr. Potter and smile what I hope is a charming smile, "I'm afraid I'm not much of a flyer." I explain.

Mr. Potter barks with laughter at this, "Nor am I at my age child. I'm grateful for the company, this old leg doesn't let me keep up the way I used to." His voice is a bit gruff at this and he indicates his right leg. I had not noticed the crutch on the ground next to him. He glares at it like it's his foe. I get the indication that he's not the type of man likes to take things slow.

"Well I have no excuse other than lack of skill and a small phobia of heights so you're better off than me." I joke. He chuckles at this and looks delighted.

Mr. Potter has a kind sort of face that you can tell has seen a bit too much of the world. Even when he smiles the wrinkles in his eyes droop a bit. His white hair is also a testament to his age, though it is clear he was once a very handsome man. I see a great deal of James in him.

I think he might say something else, but he doesn't. He simply leans back in his seat looking at me as though he has some sort of invested interest. It is not unkind, but it is unnerving. I glance about the garden, which is beautifully kept but not entirely organized. My eyes grow wide with amazement when they fall quite a large patch of greenery to the left.

"Mr. Potter is that Dittany you are growing?" In my thrill I rise from my seat to inspect it closer.

Mr. Potter smiles widely at me, that same beaming smile . "It is Miss Evans!" He sounds impressed, "My son told me you were bright. I see now he did not exaggerate."

I smile, and go to kneel by the plant. "May I?" I ask before running my fingers over the leaves.

"By all means!" He laughs as I lean down to inspect the plant closer.

"I didn't know Dittany was able to grow outside of a pot in a greenhouse!" I marvel, "Is it quite temperamental? I've read that it was. You've got a great deal here!"

Mr. Potter slides closer to where I kneel, running his own thumb over the large leaf of one of the plants.

"Temperamental it certainly is, but something about the light in this corner seems to do right by it. I've been growing this patch for about five years now." His eyes glaze over a bit as he talks about it, the way mine do when I talk about Potions or Marlene's do when she talks about flying. He straightens, wincing a bit as his joints crack from the effort. "Tell me Miss Evans are you quite interested in Herbology?"

I shrug at lean back to sit on my heals. "I suppose so. I love Potions and you can't very well be decent at that unless you know your Herbology. I suppose that's where my passion for it it comes from."

"Wisely put." Mr. Potter takes a long swig of lemonade from his cup, "many wizard's older than you misunderstand the importance of both." He looks strangely proud, as if I am his favorite student who has just answer a question correctly.

"And you sir? Do you work in Herbology?" With this impressive feat I can only imagine why Potter comes from such a rich family.

"Oh Merlin's beard no child," Mr. Potter shocks me by chuckling, "I work in the Auror Department for The Ministry. Herbology is simply my pass time. A hobby if you will." He grows serious and rolls the ice around his cup in a contemplative manner. He is not even looking at me anymore. "I spend so much time seeing destruction and death, it's nice to come home to growth and new life."

I am shocked by this confession but thankfully don't have to find anything to say for a thrilled looking Mrs. Potter bursts into the garden. "Oh Lily my dear you made it! I was getting worried we were not going to be able to feed you before you left."

I rise from my place in the dirt, apparently destined to always look like a scrubby mess upon seeing James' mother. She takes no notice and wraps me in her arms. Her hug somehow feels a bit softer and warmer than my own mother's who is all sharp angles and bones like me. She grabs me by the shoulders.

"It's nice to see you again Mrs. Potter." I find myself saying quite honestly, surprising myself. "Thank you for having me to your home."

"The pleasure is all mine!" And then she takes in my appearance and clicks her tongue. My cheeks flush scarlet. "Oh no child you can't wear this! Where is your Harpies gear? We must get you in the spirit of the game!"

Still bushing I look at my feet in embarrassment. " I'm sorry...I don't have any... and Marlene and I were running late and…"

She waves her hand in the air like she can get rid of my embarrassment like she is shooing a fly. "Oh don't fret so Lily. James has a million and one shirts you can wear. They might be a bit big on you but they'll have to do." A protest forms on my tongue, me wearing James Potter's clothing, yeah right, but it dies in my throat as she yells. "JAMES!"

Right. Well. Me, in James' clothing, in public, after coming from his home. Nothing bizarre about that at all. Certainly not. My first instinct is to bolt for the door and flee before he shows up.

Firmly I tell myself to get it together. If Marlene's happiness is not enough of a reason to deal with James than his parents' opinion of me certainly is. They have been nothing but warm to me and I am not about to be a nuisance to them in their own home. They could as me to put on a pair of James' boxers and a Christmas jumper for the game and I would probably do it without complaint.

James appears above our heads riding his shiny new looking Nimbus. I know very little about flying but I know enough to be aware of the fact that that specific broom is extremely desirable.. and expensive. "I'll have you know I was about to whoop Sirius and Marlene single handedly right before you called."

His hair is windblown, it's natural unruliness amplified by his flying. He is wearing smirk that is not altogether cocky but enough so that it makes my skin crawl. His mother however seems to find it quite endearing. "I'm sure you were dear, but Lily is in need of your hospitality."

Potter glances down at me and I look pointedly away. Dear sweet Merlin. I've got to keep it together. I grit my teeth and smile. I'm sure it comes off as more of a painful grimace but it's the best I can do considering the circumstances.

"You're mother was informing me of your vast wardrobe and I was hoping I could make use of it? Some Harpies garb of some kind?" My voice sounds a bit odd in my own ears but at least the words are polite.

James flies to the ground and jumps off his broom with more grace than I could ever manage. "Sure Evans. I'll go grab you one."

He's mid bounding step when his mother chastises him. "Don't be ridiculous James. Take her to your room and let her pick one out." Mrs. Potter scoffs and looks at me apologetically. "You'd think we raised him with no manners."

"You can say that again!" I want to shout but instead I bite the inside of my cheeks until they hurt.

"Erm… Right." James, once again, looks incredibly nervous. "This way Evans."

I follow him noiselessly, looking at the toes of my sneakers as we walk. I don't look at much of the house as he leads the way up the stairs but I cannot help but notice that their mantle is literally covered in pictures of James from infancy to recent years. It's alarmingly like some sort of shrine and I find myself thinking that it's no wonder he has such a big head.

"It's uh.. right through here." James holds the door open for me once we reach the top of the stairs.

I step in and just like that I am standing in James bloody Potter's room. It's not exactly like I thought it would be, but it is so fully James I am also not surprised. Quidditch posters line the walls, almost from floor to ceiling, and his overly large four poster bed is unmade and not entirely unlike the ones we have at school. A pile of books in the corner by his desk are collecting a fair amount of dust and the window is wide open, letting the light summer breeze tug at the golden curtains. It's a bit tidier than I had anticipated but I notice that James is trying to inconspicuously kicks some stray articles of clothing under his bed.

"I'm… erm.. sorry bout this. Would have cleaned if I would have known… so erm.." He's nervous. Visibly twitching kind of nervous, but I actually find that now we're alone I can finally relax. The facade can be down, at least for a moment, while we are here under no one's watchful eye. He is looking at me expectantly and my shoulders are finally able to relax.

"It's fine Potter." I say dryly, "No one is up here, you don't have to pretend."

His eyebrows furrow in question. "Pretend Evans?"

I nod and lean in the doorway, picking at my nails because I don't know what else to do with my hands. "Yeah, pretend like you can stand me, I know you can't." At this his jaw drops like I've said something genuinely shocking even though I know it's just a fact. I think about leaving it there, simple as that, but I've been holding this all in for so long I decide it's just best to just hurry along and say it. Unfortunately the only person I can talk to about what is really going on between Potter and I, is Potter. "And I'm sorry to have put you in this position, I really truly am." I look him in the eye now, trying to convey that my apology is genuine. "It's just been crazy you know? You're mom invited us and Marlene was so excited and I didn't want her to miss out. And I know you and Mar are friends and I've been shit about that… I mean, shit about a lot of things really.. But God I didn't mean to come into your home and your room and ruin your holiday. I honestly didn't Potter. I'm really sorry."

He looks too baffled to talk for a moment. Like some sort of fish gasping for air on land. "W-w-w-w-" He stutters. I don't know that I've ever seen Potter stutter. Not even when Slughorn gave him detention for dipping my hair in color changing ink. Not ever. "What in the bloody hell are you talking about Evans?" He takes a few steps closer to me and I am too close to his chest again. He towers over me. I've never noticed just how much until now. His presence swallows me whole. "You honestly think I can't stand you?"

"I know you can't stand me Potter, and that's okay! I'm not offended or anything. I'm just sorry I intruded on your space like this. It wasn't very decent of me." I can't maintain eye contact with him anymore because there is some sort of fire that's been lit behind his hazel eyes and I think it might scorch me.

"I can't stand you?" He's angry, and I can see that that is part of the fire, but there's more to it than that too and I just can't put my finger on what it is. "I think you've got that the other way around Evans. You hate me!"

He's raised his voice a few decibels and the passion in his words makes me wince. "I don't hate you Potter. I've never hated you." The tenseness in his shoulders relax a bit and he looks less like a spring wound too tight. I run a frustrated hand through my hair. "Of course I'm not very found of you, but you made sure of that didn't you?" Now my voice is rising too. And my eyes ache to fill with tears though I will them not to. My voice is strangled with emotion. I never yell at anyone, not ever, and here I am for the second time coming undone before James Potter. "You were always going out of your way to hex Severus. You're always poking fun of the way I look or the fact that I've never been on a date before in my life. Why do you consider it your personal goal to always remind me of that? I know I'm some stupid never-been-kissed virgin in your eyes but you don't always have to rub it in." And now I can't stop the tears from welling up into my eyes. Thank Merlin none of them fall down my cheeks, though they are dangerously close. After the fated time at the lake after O.W.L.s I swore to myself that James Potter would never make me cry again. I bite the inside of my cheeks and Potter looks perfectly horrified. His hand flies out to mine to comfort me but he seems to think better of it and retracts it reluctantly. "We were well on our way to being mates in Fourth Year Potter. What happened? What did I do to make you dislike me so suddenly?"

At this he becomes more exasperated and can't stop himself from grabbing me forcefully but the shoulders. Though his grip is firm his fingers are surprisingly soft against my skin. "I am a massive and complete git is what happened Evans. I'm… bollocks...I am such a fucking idiot." I've never heard Potter talk about himself in a negative way before in my life. Not even when he apologized at the end of last term. His thumb runs gently against my skin and I want to retreat but he holds me firmly in place. His eyes burn through me. "I never meant to make you feel like...Merlin's beard...like I was making fun of you for not dating people. I like that about you. I'm... quite bloody pleased you've never been kissed." He lets out a snort of a laugh but it holds no humor. "And I know we were friends in Fourth Year. And it was nice Evans. It was nice." I notice he has avoided the topic of Severus, which I cannot entirely fault him for. Severus is a moot point between the two of us now.

I remove myself from his grasp and lean on the door again and raise my eyebrows. "I don't entirely understand, Potter."

He rocks up and down on his toes and looks at me pleadingly. "And I don't think you have to fully understand Evans. You just need to know that I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I was a prat to you and I'm sorry that you thought I was...bloody hell…. taking the mickey out of you all this time. I swear on my honor as a Gryffindor that was not my intention."

I try to shrug nonchalantly as though he has never hurt my feelings excruciatingly. "It's fine Potter. I'm a tough girl."

He doesn't look entirely pleased with my response but he doesn't look altogether upset either. A hand flies through his hair again. He heaves a great sigh and then catches hold of my elbows with his hands as though it is some sort of reflex. "Look, Evans I have a proposition. If you're willing, let's pretend Fifth Year didn't happen. Lets go back to the end of Fourth Year when we were becoming friends." He blinks a few times, looking shy, "If you can do that I think we might just stand a chance at getting through this summer together. For Marlene's sake." His eyes are wide like a dog begging for scraps from a table. "I'm sorry for being a prick Evans, and as your friend I will do better, I swear."

I heave a great sigh. I have an Achilles Heal and apparently even Potter knows it. I always believe the best of people when they say they will do better. It's the only reason Severus and I were able to be friends as long as we were. He would always apologize to me, swear he would do better, and I would believe him wholeheartedly. After an entire childhood of that, it finally burned me beyond repair last year. Somethings just can't be undone. And I don't want to have to live that again. I don't want to be hurt like that again. Unfortunately Potter looks so dejected and genuinely upset that I find myself believing him, and though I'm sure that I'll burn for it later, I can't help but smile at him and put a gentle hand over his own that is resting on my elbow.

"People make mistakes Potter, and I'm willing to start over if you are."

The look of relief that washes over him almost makes the whole horrible conversation worth it. I remove my hand to scratch at the skin on my wrist anxiously. Something about Potter makes me feel raw and transparent, like I can't hide my true emotions from him even if I give my best effort. That's why he's the only person in my life I've ever really yelled at.

"I would like that Evans. I would really like that." He removes his hands from my elbows just to extend his right one forward formally. "Mates?" He asks as though my shaking on it will make it real.

I nod my head and offer him a half smile. "Mates." I say taking his hand firmly in my own and shaking it, "Or at least well on our way to becoming mates."

He smiles now, real and genuine, and it's that dazzling smile he shares with his dad, the one he saves for occasions when he is truly happy. "I can live with that, Evans." Instead of letting go of my hand he pulls me to a wardrobe and flings open the door. The smile hasn't left his face and the jovial way he shows me the contents of his slightly messy wardrobe is almost endearing. "Help yourself to any of these shirts," He pauses, "mate."

I can't help but laugh and take a step forward to examine my options, running my fingers over the well worn fabric. "These are all going to be massive on me." I say, throwing him a smile over my shoulder which he returns to me twelve fold. "It will be rather like wearing an unflattering dress."

"I'm sure you'll look better in my shirts than I do Evans." There's a little bit of fire sparking in his eyes, but not the angry kind.

I take a large green shirt with a shimmering Harpies emblem on the front and hold the hanger up to my shoulders. The shirt is so large it completely covers my shorts. James gulps. "It swallows me whole, you giant." I exclaim, feeling the size of a small child.

James shrugs, but his eyes are laughing. He doesn't smirk at me in the mean way I am accustomed to, or maybe it's because I'm not looking for it. "Just because you're the size of a bloody Cornish Pixie."

At this I shove his shoulder. It's the most contact I've initiated with him since flying lessons in First Year and he looks pleased. "Don't be rude." I say, which is not an entirely new statement coming from me to him but the joking manner in which I say it certainly is. "I'll just tie it at the waist." I remove the shirt from the hanger and throw it over my arm. "Now Potter, lets go to a Quidditch match."