Love Cauldrons – Chapter Four – The Antidote

James' mouth was dry.

He knew it was wrong—somehow he just knew—but he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from her. Her breasts were perfect. Perfect pale globes, the nipples rosy pink. They were slightly large and James bet they'd fit in his hands perfectly. His hands itched to cup those perfect breasts, squeeze them, and bring them to his mouth. He'd claim her. He'd lick and suck until she moaned with pleasure, rocking against him, calling out his name.

And then her words—the words she'd actually just uttered—penetrated the thick fog that surrounded his brain, as if from a long distance away.

"I love you James."

His eyes whipped to her face.

"Wh—What?!" he sputtered, eyes wide.

This was the second time in a day that Lily had left him speechless. A record really. Before now, he'd always had a quick barb ready, a witty reply, a cheeky line for a date. She'd never surprised him before . . . at least, never so much. But just now he couldn't get his mind around the words she'd just declared.

Lily didn't seem to hear his amazed reply to her statement. She leaned forward, backing him into the corner of the carriage where the side met the seat they were on. Her breasts, those perfect soft-looking breasts, pressed against his chest and she slowly—seeming to know the effect if would have on him—undulated her hips against his raging erection. He trembled beneath her.

Capturing his hands, which had been resting lightly on her waist, she brought them up to her breasts. James gulped, eyes locked on her chest, and touched her gently. He cupped her, palming her nipples, which puckered and stood erect at his attention. She was so soft, he marveled, gently squeezing one breast and brushing his thumb against her other nipple. Lily let out a gasp and shoved herself forward, propelling her chest in the general direction of his face. James, his mind wiped blank of everything else—where they were, what she'd just said—could only see her breasts before him, begging him to . . .

And James gave himself up to the moment, weak with desire, mind buzzing with lust, his fantasies fulfilled. He brought one breast to his mouth and lightly ran his tongue over her nipple. A second later he crushed her body to his and sucked her nipple into his mouth hard, his tongue swirling around her. His hands ran down her back until they met her rounded backside and he pressed her against himself as he thrust up, the friction amazing, determined she feel how much he wanted her, crazed with lust at what she'd offered him.

Lily gripped his hair in her hands, strangled noises issuing from her throat as he sucked her deeper into his mouth. It was better than she ever could have imagined, better than any feeling she'd ever had in her life. Stars shone behind her eyes when he roughly ran his tongue over her. A lightning bolt of pleasure traveled from her breast to that sweet, awful, undeniable ache in her loins, making her groan.

"Oh, James!" she let out. "Take me—oh, please! I love you!"

But James did not respond to these words the way she thought: he did not pull back and answer her in kind, or pull her head down for a scorching kiss, or even groan appreciatively. In fact, James stopped altogether.

Her words ran like ice water over him, bringing him back to the present in a shock of perfect clarity. He pulled back from her, disgust at himself swirling in his stomach. His senses were going haywire and lust still clouded his mind, but one thought rang true though it all: this was wrong.

What they were doing was wrong. Lily wasn't herself. Those words couldn't be real. He couldn't believe he'd taken advantage of her like this. When she'd first started undoing her blouse, he'd known . . . something was very wrong . . .

Lily did not know why he'd stopped. She thought he went stone still because he was overwhelmed, panting because his heart was fit to bursting (like hers) at the realization of her love, backing away from her because he was about to utter the words she longed to hear . . .

"I love you," she repeated, whispering in his ear. How good it felt to say it! Oh, she could say it forever. Was there a better sentence in the English (or for that matter, any) language? She loved James Potter! She wanted everyone to know! She wanted to shout it from the rooftops! From the top of the tallest tower! Hear it echo in the Great Hall and sail off on the wind for others to hear, so that they'd know.

"I've always loved you!" she exclaimed happily, her lips hot against his neck. "I've loved you for ages."

Actually, this was blatantly untrue. Lily had only been in love with James for approximately seven hours, forty-eight minutes, and three seconds: since she'd eaten that first Chocolate Cauldron that morning at breakfast. But to Lily, however, it certainly felt like it had been forever.

She started pressing small, chaste, reverent butterfly kisses along his jaw line. Her mouth had just met his again when James shoved her—rather hard, it must be admitted—away from him.

He clenched his jaw, seething. Either Lily was out of her mind, or being unbelievably cruel. He couldn't stand another bleeding minute of it.

"I don't know what kind of joke this is," he said coldly, "but it's a bad one."

Disbelief washed over Lily, and she stared at him in shocked surprise. A joke!? How could he . . . what . . . ? She pushed him against the seat and, her hand clenching his chin, made him look at her. The wounded, frosty look in his eyes sent a shock wave of anguish through her.

"James!" she shrieked. "How could you think that?" Tears formed in her eyes and she unthinkingly pressed herself against him, her chest to his. Did he really believe it was all a joke? How? Was it so impossible for her to love him? Why, oh why did he not believe her? "How could I joke about something like this?" she asked earnestly. Did he not realize how important this was? "I love you so much it hurts inside; I ache for you."

"What are you talking about?" he asked bewilderedly, searching for her bra. If he was going to figure out what this was all about, and why she was acting so strangely, she had to be decently—or, well, at least partially—clothed.

"Oh, James," she said dreamily, wiping her tears away. "It's true. I've wanted to tell you for so long! This morning, when I saw you at breakfast, walking toward me, tossing your hair out of your gorgeous eyes: my heart melted right out of my body. I thought you'd never notice me! I couldn't go on loving you in secret—I couldn't bear you not knowing—Oh James!" her expression went wild with passion as she uttered his name, "I'd do anything for you! You're so good and noble and brave and strong! How could anyone not love you? When you laugh my heart sings, when you frown I faint for wanting you to be happy again. I love you from the top of your wild-haired head to the bottom of your butterbeer-stained trainers! Oh James, tell my I don't hope in vain!"

Throughout her confession, James had been struggling to get her bra back on, but was having difficulty with the clasp. Finally the hook caught and then he started searching for her discarded blouse and black robe. What was she talking about? he thought distractedly. Love him? That had been butterbeer he'd gotten at the Three Broomsticks, hadn't it? Not something stronger by mistake, like fire—

James froze, her words coming back to him. ". . . this morning . . . at breakfast . . ." He remembered Alice in Honeydukes . . . something about—Merlin, what had she said? "I think there was something wrong with those Chocolate Cauldrons. . . . more than firewhiskey in that candy . . . wasn't even a signature . . ."

His hands stopped buttoning Lily's blouse as suspicions took form in his mind. . . . But if that was true . . . his stomach dropped at the thought. It couldn't be, could it? That would mean . . .

Just then, the carriage stopped.

In a tumble of limbs, James tossed Lily off of him and jumped out the carriage door, breathing in the crisp autumn air gratefully. The chill hit him like a slap in the face, but it helped him think. It had stopped raining a while ago and the grounds were wet; the sun was barely visible in the west, its last glimmering rim disappearing behind the distant mountains. James' head cleared and he took stock of their surroundings, relieved no one was in sight.

Lily scrambled out of the carriage after him, stumbling over her robe. She caught his arm.

"James," she cried imploringly, "tell me you love me."

He looked at her, trying to ignore her words. Merlin! he thought, taking in her appearance. He tried get a few more buttons of her blouse done up but her hand batted his away. Hoping no one would notice their disheveled looks, he pulled her robe around her instead.

"James," she pleaded.

He grabbed her arm and headed off toward the castle. Please let him be in his office, James thought desperately, shuffling Lily in front of him. With the sun having set the night was approaching quickly. He needed to get her into the castle, now, before it got any worse. James didn't know what he'd do if he was wrong . . . really, what else could it be? . . .

Halfway through the east courtyard, lost in thought, James stumbled and an arm swung him around to land heavily against a wall. He looked up to see an irate Lily Evans holding him in place, her robe unwrapping to reveal her half-dressed body.

"Tell me you love me," she whispered. James, still slightly stunned by the force at which she'd slammed him into the wall, didn't think of pushing her away. He was much too startled by the look on her face. It was feral, dangerous. "I know you do. I saw it in your eyes in the carriage." She licked her dry lips, her eyes roving wildly over his face, searching for something. "How could you kiss me like that and not love me?" She seemed to be almost talking to herself as much as to him. Stepping closer, her face was inches from his. James was hypnotized by the look in her eyes.

Lily leaned in, her mouth crushing his, her tongue caressing, making him hot. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her body pressed against his urgently, wanting more.

James turned his head away after a moment, panting. They couldn't, he thought vaguely. They couldn't do this. He needed to get her up to Slughorn's office. She doesn't know what she's doing, he reminded himself as one of her hands ran down his body, making him shiver.

"James," she purred. "Take me to your room." Her hand had found what she'd been looking for, and she stroked his half-hard cock through his trousers. James let out a desperate hiss, desire pooling once again in his stomach, his erection swelling with need, springing to life easily. He tried to control himself but his hips acted of their own accord and soon he was grinding himself against her hand, pleasure clouding his mind. Lily was touching him and he couldn't not respond.

"I know you want me. I can feel you." Lily rubbed him harder and he let out a groan. "Oh, please take me to your room—I ache for you." She captured one of his hands and brought it down to the place she meant: between her thighs.

When James felt her hot, wet knickers against his fingers—wet for him! a lust-ridden voice in his head reminded thickly—he knew he had to stop. He knew he had to stop before someone saw them. Had to stop before he ended up switching their positions and pressed her body up against the wall; pressed himself against her, shoving her skirt up and her knickers down and doing just what she wanted. Had to stop before he came right there in the courtyard. Had to stop because he knew what they were doing wasn't right; she didn't really mean it.

She didn't really want him.

With that thought ringing in his ears, James grasped both of Lily's hands in his and shoved away from the wall, dragging her behind him, more determined than ever to make it Slughorn's.

"Are we going to your room?" Lily asked excitedly, clutching at his arm, her robe once again trailing on the ground.

"Yes," James let out stiffly. "Alright."

This seemed to mollify Lily, at least partially. She followed him calmly enough into the castle and past the Great Hall, up the staircases, darting through corridors in effort not to be seen. James didn't know what he'd say if someone saw them—hell, he didn't know what he'd say when he finally found Slughorn, but he had to try.

Finally—finally!—they made it to the second floor, thankfully with no one spying them on the way up (although, for one brief second James had sworn he'd seen Dumbledore peering at them from around a corner). Instead of continuing up the staircases, James set off down a corridor, passed the bathrooms, and eventually ended up standing in front of Slughorn's Office.

Steeling himself for embarrassment beyond anything he thought he'd ever face, and trying to ignore the way Lily was tugging on his arm, James took a deep breathe and knocked on the door.

After a few moments (in which Lily finally came out of her dreamy musings about the boy next to her and recognized where they were) the door opened.

Slughorn beamed at them, his enormous mustache bristling with glee.

"Well, well, Mr. Potter!" he started, before James could get a word out. "So Lily finally said yes to you, did she? Miss Evans, you disappoint me, truly. Not that it has anything to do with you, James, my boy, don't misunderstand me; it's only I put down ten galleons on this Christmas, and now I'll have to pay up to those cheeky friends of yours—"

James barely heard what Slughorn was saying, he was too busy hauling Lily into the room. Slughorn turned around to the table, obviously in the middle of making tea. He was wearing one of his emerald green smoking jackets.

"Why are we here?" Lily said loudly to James, peering around the room. "I thought we were going to your room. There isn't a Slug Club meeting or something?"

"No," James answered quietly, trying to shush her as Slughorn bumbled around the table, still talking, oblivious to their conversation. "I just—I just need to pick up something for class—"

"You're thinking of class at a time like this?" Lily exclaimed angrily. "Let's go!" She tried pulling him back to the door but James caught her by the waist and pulled her to his side.

"It'll only be a minute," he said haltingly through gritted teeth as she struggled against him.

"Let's go to your room," she insisted, drawing a hand across his chest. "I want you," she whispered.

"—you can imagine my surprise! But then again, I knew you'd persuade her, James, I knew it! Lily, you certainly took your time but, then again, I always say that—"

"Professor?" James panted, as Lily wriggled in his arms.

Slughorn sent a glance their way, still talking, and then did a double take. His eyes bugged out as he looked over them from head to toe, his mouth falling open in astonishment. James felt his face burn with embarrassment. He could imagine what Slughorn was seeing. The dirty robe that trailed from Lily's arm. Lily's mussed hair and wild eyes. Her flushed cheeks and swollen lips; her gaping, half-buttoned blouse that barely covered anything. Slughorn could see the way her socks were uneven on her legs and the way her skirt was bunched up, revealing too much of her slim, pale thighs. And James' own disheveled hair and askew glasses, which barely balanced on his nose. His unbuttoned shirt and kiss-ravaged neck. And Slughorn could see that Lily was now straddling one of James' legs, having captured it between her own, and was leaning against him, her arms slung about his neck, purring into his ear.

"I th—I think she's swallowed a love potion, professor," James said hoarsely.

Slughorn blinked at him and looked at Lily again. "Yes, yes, well then . . ." He blinked twice. "Oh my."

"By accident," James said quickly. He didn't miss how Slughorn's eyes caught Lily nuzzling his neck. Just what he needed, someone to think he'd done this himself, as some stupid Marauder's trick.

"I wasn't sure if the hospital wing would . . . well . . . fix her." James' face still burned. "I thought you'd be the best person—I mean, the one who could . . ."

Slughorn nodded, a bewildered look still on his face. "Yes, yes, you thought right," he said. But he didn't move.

James tried to ignore the way Lily was rubbing herself against him, her hips moving rhythmically. He tried to ignore the way she let out breathy moans and whispered things—naughty things—things that no one would ever say in front of a teacher, things that made James' heart race—into his ear.

"Professor?" James called out in a strangled voice, calling Slughorn's attention back to himself. "Do you have anything to help her?"

Slughorn seemed to awaken from his stupor. "Oh my. Yes, yes . . ." he shuffled off to a cupboard, mumbling to himself about antidotes. "I don't have much on hand, you know. One doesn't see love potions every day . . ."

"James," Lily was whispering. "You take off your pants and I'll take off my skirt and we'll do what we were made for." She panted against him. "I want you so badly. I feel like I'm burning up. My skin is on fire. My heart is on fire. I want to feel you hard and long inside me, pounding me against a bed. I know how big you are, I felt your hot cock before. I want you. I'm so wet for you. My knickers are soaked with wanting you. Do you remember how wet I was? Wet for you, James. Oh James! I want to move with you and taste you and taste myself on you. I want . . ."

Slughorn heard none of this as he carefully mixed ingredients together. To think, James and Lily were together—but only because of a love potion! He wondered if that meant his bet for Christmas was still good . . . after all, this couldn't qualify as a true date if one of them was under the influence of a love potion . . . He turned back to the two students, only to find James and Lily in a passionate liplock. Lily's hands were buried in James' hair and she moaned as she pushed her tongue into his mouth. On a second look, however, one could see how James was struggling to push away the crazed girl in his arms.

James eventually succeeded, gasping and holding Lily at arm's length. Any effects of the kiss were lost when he caught Slughorn staring at them, a goblet in his hand giving off clouds of shimmering violet vapor.

"Lily, stop," James said, trying to keep her away as she fought to get closer.

"I can't stop!" she moaned, catching one of his hands in hers and raising it to her mouth for a kiss. However, this tactic did not elicit the same reaction from him as it had the first time. James merely looked at Slughorn pleadingly.

"I love you!" Lily sobbed, longing for James to take her in his arms like he had in the carriage. Why didn't he? What was she doing wrong? She clasped his hand against her heart. "Don't you feel it?" she asked, unaware of how wild she looked, pressing his hand against her chest wantonly. "My heart is bleeding!" Tears were running down her face now. "I love you so much! Why don't you love me?!"

James didn't know what to do. He'd never seen Lily act like this. She'd never been unreasonable or wild before. She'd never cried in his presence. And she certainly had never gotten upset when he didn't say 'I love you'—which, of course, he'd never been stupid enough to say.

He knew it was the effects of the potion, he knew it wasn't the real Lily, but his heart melted just the same. He couldn't bear being the cause of her problems. He couldn't bear being the reason she cried in a teacher's office.

"Shh," he said gently, drawing her into his embrace. She buried her face in his chest and let out the torrent of tears that had welled up inside. He slowly rubbed her back and looked over her shoulder at Professor Slughorn.

Slughorn still looked shocked at the scene in front of him.

"That must have been a very strong love potion," Slughorn said after a moment, watching Lily. "Old or unreliable . . . first sight . . ." he murmured to himself. He looked at James inquiringly. "Do you know how she . . . ?"

James thought a moment. "I think . . . Alice said something about a box of Chocolate Cauldrons at breakfast. With firewhiskey filling. I think she suspected, but didn't know what—" he faltered, looking down at Lily as she hiccupped in his arms, "what made Lily act like this. So . . . strange . . ." He sighed.

Slughorn peered at him. "At breakfast, you say? Do you mean to tell me that Lily has been under the influence of a love potion since breakfast?"

James nodded, shamefaced. It was nearly eight now. He had been so stupid! He should have realized . . . Lily would never have said yes to him if she'd been in her right mind.

Gesturing to the goblet Slughorn had in hand, he asked, "Is that the antidote?"

Slughorn nodded, though James could make out his thinly veiled credulity over Lily having taken the potion so long ago and no one thinking anything was wrong until now.

Gently drawing back from Lily, James took the goblet from Slughorn and offered it to her. "Here, Lily."

Lily gazed at him through starry, wet lashes, ignoring the cup. "Are we going to your room now?" she asked hopefully, desperately, clinging to him.

"Just drink this," James said, feeling a pang at her words.

Her eyes centered on the goblet, apparently finding it difficult to focus on anything but James. "What is it?"

"It—" James looked at Slughorn.

"It will make you feel better," the professor supplied.

Lily didn't move.

"Just drink it, Lily," James urged.

She looked at him, eyes wide and as deep as the green sea. "Are you sure you want me to?"

James hesitated. A niggling of doubt squirmed in his stomach. Why had she asked him that? But, slowly, his gaze not leaving hers, he nodded. "Yes, I do."

She lifted the cup to her lips, eyes still locked on James, and drank.

Slughorn motioned for James to step away from her.

Lily felt dazed, strange. At first nothing seemed to be different. But slowly a churning started in her stomach and made her bend over, clutching her middle. Her face drained of color and a cold sweat broke out on her brow. Her head was full of bright lights that got brighter and brighter; too bright. A cool, sickly feeling spread from her middle, sweeping through her from the top of her messy-haired head to the tips of her scuffed black shoes. That precious, golden, glorious bubbly feeling was deflating, leaving her all alone. No, she thought desperately, don't go! She tried to fight it, to hold on to the happiness, the glow. But nothing worked.

It was gone.

Legs shaking, she opened her eyes, unaware that she'd closed them in the first place. The only thing she could hear was the pounding of her own heart. James' face swam before her eyes and she was aware of a harsh panting noise. It was only when a wrenching pain ripped into her side and her breath caught that she realized she'd been making that noise. Swaying dizzily, Lily grabbed the edge of the nearest solid object—which happened to be a large, empty cauldron—her head spinning, her side spasmming in pain.

"Wh—What happened?" she asked thickly, clutching her side with one hand.

"Lily?" a voice said cautiously.

"I . . . I . . ." Lily blinked, trying to get the blurriness to clear.

"She doesn't look too good," another voice said.

Another wrenching pain dug through her, only this time higher than her side . . . she wondered what it was . . . and then she knew: her heart. All at once her stomach jumped and she closed her eyes again as the nausea swept over her.

"Oh," she moaned painfully, "I—I don't feel . . ."

And with that Lily leaned over the cauldron, and retched for all she was worth.

"Lily!" James called, hurrying to her side. He pulled her hair back from her face as she retched again.

"That was some strong stuff she had," Slughorn said, leaning wearily against the table. "Very poorly mixed, didn't set for long enough . . . and mixed with firewhiskey . . . you can always tell with the antidote . . ." He watched thoughtfully as James helped Lily wipe her mouth on a handkerchief. "She'll be alright," he said.

Lily leaned her forehead against the cold, smooth metal of the cauldron, trying to fight the queasiness in her stomach. She felt strange, almost . . . bereft. As if she had lost something. Her head started to clear a little and she took deep, slow breaths. Her chest ached. Her heart ached . . . her heart . . .

Lily let out a sharp gasp, standing up quickly. James, thinking she needed the cauldron again, moved to help her. He touched her shoulder, ready to do whatever she needed, but Lily seized his arm desperately, letting out a wail.

"Oh!" she cried. "I feel . . . I feel . . ." She felt torn inside. Wounded. Like someone had given her something she hadn't known she was missing, something that fit her perfectly, and then cruelly yanked it away. She felt empty.

James, taking her in his arms, tried unsuccessfully to calm her wretched sobs. She railed against him, twisting and turning, tears pouring down her face.

"It hurts! It hurts!" she wailed. And then she fainted, James' arms catching her before she hit the floor.

"Professor," James said, turning to Slughorn. "What—is she—are you sure you gave her the right—?"

Slughorn nodded tiredly. "That was the right antidote. It was just a strong love potion, that's all. Diligo Primoris: Love At First Sight, if I'm not mistaken. It can have very strong side-effects if not brewed correctly. Don't worry, Lily will feel more like herself in the morning." He peered anxiously at Lily's pale, blank face. "I trust you'll take care of her, Mr. Potter?"

"Shouldn't we take her to the hospital wing, Professor?"

"They can't do anything we haven't already done," Slughorn replied. He waved a hand at the cauldron Lily had used. "I'll clean up."

"Thank you, sir," James answered solemnly. He carefully hefted Lily into his arms more securely and turned toward the door. Turning the knob, he paused.

"Professor? I . . . well . . . thank you," James repeated, lamely.

Slughorn nodded. "You'd better put her to bed."

James left Slughorn's office and trudged up the rest of the stairs to the fourth floor, where the Head Boy and Girl's dormitory was located, around the corner from the prefect's bathroom and two corridors down from the library.

Whispering the password ("Demiguise"), James entered the Head Common Room and walked across it to the door that led to Lily's room. As he stepped through, Lily squirmed in his arms, half-awake, mumbling incoherently. He laid her on the bed and was undoing her shoes when she tried to sit up, still clutching at her chest as if in pain. James put a hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her back onto the mattress.

"Shh," he said. "You need to sleep."

Lily grabbed his hand and pulled him closer. "I feel . . ." Tears threatened again.

"Shh," he soothed, putting an arm around her. "It's okay. You'll be okay."

"Don't leave me, too," Lily said brokenly, turning into his embrace.

"I won't." James lightly kissed her forehead. "I won't."

Lily soon slept, her head on his chest, breathing deeply. James couldn't bring himself to leave her, and so he stayed like he'd promised. It was a long time before he fell asleep.

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Author's Note:

You might have noticed that Lily's reaction to the love potion antidote was stronger—much stronger—than Ron's reaction in HBP. This is due to the fact that I made up a different sort of love potion. In HBP the one Romilda Vane makes enchants the drinker into a state of "love" with the maker—Romilda specifically. The one Lily consumed in his fic is of different ilk: Love At First Sight, a finicky potion, one that is very strong if brewed poorly. And remember, Ron was given his antidote right away; poor Lily was enchanted all day! She fell deeper and deeper in love with James every time she looked at him! So obviously the effects of dissolving her "love" for him had more consequences . . .

Another thing: I wasn't quite sure where to put Slughorn's office. I mean, he is the Potions Master, and one would assume that, like Snape, he'd use the office right next door to the Potions room. But then again, in HBP, Snape teaches DADA and Slughorn teaches Potions and they don't switch offices; Slughorn has the vacant DADA teacher's office on the second floor. And, in HBP, when Harry and Dumbledore look at Slughorn's "Sluggish Memory", Harry recognizes the room they are in as Slughorn's office. Now, I'm not sure if that's meant as just belonging to Slughorn or if he used the office on the second floor fifty years ago when he taught Voldemort, but I decided to make him have the same office for Harry's parents that he has in HBP for Harry; that is, the office on the second floor. It was also more interesting for James and Lily to go running around upstairs trying not to be caught, than down in those cold, cheerless, dirty dungeons, don't you think? 

Also, I must say that I don't really have any idea where the Head Boy and Girl's dormitory is; or even if there is one. However, I like the idea of James and Lily having to put up with each other in such close quarters in their seventh year, so . . . humor me.