Lily rounds the corner toward her office and runs directly into a large, warm body, nearly tossing the books retrieved from Madam Pince onto the perpetually damp dungeon floor. Luckily, she does keep her grip - at least on the physical objects - while two broad hands grip her upper arms. "Alright, Evans?"

"Where have I heard that before?" Lily, drawls, hopefully hiding the way her heart thuds at his closeness.

"I've no idea," James replies loftily, "Perhaps a certain devastatingly charming Gryffindor during your formative years?"

Resettling her books in her arms, Lily smirks, "Devastatingly dorky more like."

James follows along at her side, letting his fingertips trail along the dark stone walls, "You sound more like Sirius every day."

"You take that back," Lily grumps, flicking her wand in a complex pattern before producing a worn key from the depths of her robes and unlocking her office door.

He laughs, following her inside without waiting for invitation, and settles in one of the rather cozy armchairs tucked in front of her small fireplace where they've spent more evenings chatting together than Lily would care to admit. James flicks his wand and brings the fire up, "I've gotten a letter from Charlie's mum again."

"You were the one who wanted to be Head," Lily teases, dropping the large tomes on her desk and pulling out her stashed firewhisky along with two tumblers.

"Don't act like you didn't want it too," James laughs, "And McGonagall only picked me to keep things neat."

"Ah yes, Mr. Adjunct."

"Temporary - I have all the rights and privileges of a permanent member of the faculty," James corrects, accepting the perhaps too generous drink without batting an eye.

"Anyway, Mrs. Weasley?" Lily prompts, kicking her heels off and raising her feet to warm in front of the fire.

"Charlie's got to bring his Potions grade up or she wants him off the Quidditch team," James pronounces darkly like a death sentence.

Lily's browns rise, "And how can I help you?"

"I don't know, usually the red headed Potions Mistress is pretty agreeable," James answers cheekily, "Seen her around?"

"My grading has been entirely fair," Lily asserts, squaring her jaw and daring him to contradict.

James raises his hands defensively, "And I would never suggest otherwise," Lily calms and he relaxes his shoulders, "I just want to know what has to be done."

"What would you do with your kid?" Lily questions, wriggling her socked toes and tugging the pins from her hair so it cascades around her shoulders distractingly.

Taking a deep breath, James blinks rapidly and refocuses, "Congratulate him on a well played game last Saturday? Maybe buy him a celebratory gift?"

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Lily laughs, topping off her glass so she doesn't see James' mischievous expression.

"So planning on having something to do with rearing my future sprogs, eh?"

Jolting so she spills her firewhisky across her front in a dark slash across her front, Lily stutters, "I- I am the Potions Mistress."

"Or you want to have my babies," James posits, leaning closer and batting his eyes flirtatiously.

Lily stands abruptly, patting at her damp front and studiously avoiding eye contact, hoping to at least not have to see James seeing her embarrassed flush. She doesn't realize he's followed until she turns back toward the fireplace and is faced with his bobbing Adam's apple. "Alright Evans?"

She swallows nervously, "We've done this already, yeah?"

James nods, slow, so his nose brushes her temple, and somehow Lily gravitates closer so her hair tickles his jawline.

His hands rise, one to her hip and the other cupping her cheek, "Are you?"

"Am I what?" Lily nearly whispers.

Face tilting closer, James' lips tease hers without actually following through on the promise in his eyes, "Alri-"

"Professor Evans - bloody hell!"

"Charlie!"

"Professor Potter! You said you'd talk to her," Charlie squeaks.

Lily drops her forehead to James' shoulder, "How long until Christmas Hols?"