Happy Saturday, my friend. It's been an impossibly long week and I'm so glad it's the weekend. I'm sat here now with a cup of tea and I'm getting ready to write and ugh. It could only be a better morning if it was raining outside
They spent the rest of the morning, and some of the early afternoon, in bed. James tried to talk her into getting dressed so they could go out and get lunch — 'A proper lunch,' he'd said, hovering over her and looking up at her in between the kisses he was peppering across her breasts. 'A proper date. Where we don't talk about anything except how good the food is and how beautiful you are.' — but Lily had just laughed and reminded him that, 'You're the Prime Minister, James, you can't just go out without it being a whole production.'
'And besides,' she'd said, smirking up at him, 'imagine what the papers would say if you went out on the town with some unknown woman.'
And, yes, he'd had to admit — the papers would certainly talk.
And while it was fun rolling around in the sheets with Lily and dropping teasing kisses across her skin as they guessed, what, exactly, the press would say about her, he knew that the reality would probably be significantly less entertaining.
And certainly less satisfying.
So they stayed in bed.
And James couldn't remember a better day.
They spent most of the time talking — about food and books and music and, for James, television programmes, about their favourite parts of London, the big trips they couldn't wait to go on, the things they still wanted to achieve — but, every now and again, their wandering hands became too distracting and they lost the thread.
They always found their way back, though, and neither of them really minded the distraction.
James wanted, more than anything, for her to stay the weekend. For them to spend it like this. Lying in his bed, or else sitting at his kitchen table or lounging on his sofa, eating random things they'd pulled from the fridge, chatting about anything that came to mind. It was soft and easy and warm and god he just — he wanted to spend weeks like this. Years.
But, of course, because neither of their lives could leave them alone for long, that weekend he desperately wanted just wasn't going to happen.
Later that afternoon, they were sat on his sofa watching an old episode of Blue Planet — every few minutes, Lily would gasp, 'Look at the massive eyes on that fish!' or 'Their little lights are so cool', and James couldn't help but smile at her — when there was a quick succession of sharp taps on the window on the other side of the lounge. Lily stiffened immediately and, after a heavy sigh, she pulled her feet out of James' lap and started across the room.
James sat up a bit straighter. 'What is it?'
'I'm not sure yet.'
Lily studied his window for a moment to find the catch before she slid it open and the owl on the sill stuck its leg inside so Lily could untie the letter there. The owl flew off the moment Lily loosened the letter and, after she shut and re-locked the window, Lily slid her finger underneath the seal and unfolded the parchment.
She was quiet for a moment, her eyes sliding quickly over whatever was written on the sheet, before she sighed heavily and let the letter fall down by her side.
'I've got to go,' she said. 'It's Moody. Apparently there's been some kind of break and —'
'Have them come here,' James said. 'We can — it's Saturday. No one's here except Security and — have them come here.'
Lily sighed heavily and looked back down at the letter in her hand. 'I don't think we — they've got a suspect and —' She took a deep breath and, when her eyes met his, they were guarded.
Final.
'I've got to go. I'll write to you as soon as I know more. Either on the pad or — well, maybe an owl. It might be too much for the pad.'
James bit the inside of his lip and drew in a slow, even breath. He held her gaze for a moment before he sighed, shook his head, and looked down at his knees.
'I'll just wait for you, I guess.'
'James, don't —' His eyes snapped up then and she broke off.
He raised an eyebrow. 'Don't what?'
She exhaled heavily. 'I'm sorry, James. I just — I can't — you can't come to this.'
There was more that she wasn't saying, he could tell by the almost blank look on her face, but he wasn't in the mood to press her. If she was hiding this right now, there was a reason. There had to be a reason. And he was frustrated, sure, and he wanted to know — he had a right to know — but he wasn't going to get anywhere by pushing her on it right now and so —
'Fine.' He waved his hand dismissively. 'I'd appreciate a full report, though.'
She nodded immediately. 'As soon as I can get back to my desk and write it up, I'll send it over.'
The studied each other for a moment across the lounge before James sighed and pushed himself to his feet. He was still annoyed — really annoyed — but he couldn't —
He couldn't let her walk out of here when they were like this.
She was just going to her office, nothing was going to happen, probably, but still —
He held his arms out just slightly as he walked towards her and Lily sighed, something crumbling in her expression as she stepped into him and folded herself around him. They stood there for a moment, his nose in her hair, her cheek resting on his chest, and James almost let himself forget that they were arguing and she was on her way out the door just now.
He focused instead on the soft skin at the base of her neck, on running his thumb over that spot as he spread his fingers out over her back. Focused on the lightly sweet smell of her hair. The feel of her, the way her body fitted just so against his.
He focused on her, on this moment. Because everything else outside them….
It could wait. For another few seconds, it could wait.
They'd been standing there for a minute when Lily turned and rested her chin on his chest. James leant back a bit so he could look her in the eye.
'You're cross.'
'Yeah,' he said. There was no sense denying it. 'But you're going to go and I'm not going to stop you.'
She studied him for a moment, a look on her face that he couldn't quite pick apart. She looked a bit resigned, a bit unsure, a little bit frustrated, but he wasn't sure which feeling was winning out.
'I just need to do this alone,' she said.
He frowned. 'You do everything alone.'
'I —' She looked like she wanted to fight him on that point, but he raised an eyebrow at her and she sighed. 'Fine. But this I actually have got to do alone. I — I can't do it properly if you're there.'
That got his back up.
'What've you got to do?'
She shook her head. 'I'll tell you later. But really,' she slid her hands around to his hips. 'I've got to go.'
And god he wanted to argue with her about this. He wanted to have a proper, shouty sort of row about it, but he knew that it wasn't going to get him what he wanted and he knew that it wasn't the best way to handle this anyway and he knew, really, that she did have to go.
That she wouldn't be telling him she had to go if she really didn't have to go.
She slid her hands from his hips and took a step back, grabbing her blazer from the arm of the sofa and slipping it on.
He watched as she adjusted the blazer around her shoulders. 'I don't like that you're leaving without telling me what's going on,' he said.
She held his gaze as she grabbed her wand off his coffee table and slid it into her blazer. 'I know.'
They both looked at each other for a long moment before she stepped forward and, tentatively, rested her hands on his stomach. When he didn't step back, she slid her hands up his chest, over his shoulders, and stepped into him again.
'I'll write as soon as I can,' she said. 'I'll tell you everything.'
She pressed up onto her toes and kissed him softly, her lips barely moving over his, and no matter how irritated he was, he couldn't help the way he responded when her mouth was on his. He felt his frustration start to drain away — not all of it, mind, but enough — as he reached up, threaded his fingers through her hair, and responded, his lips moving a bit more forcefully over hers.
She hummed against him and James moved his other hand up, his fingers trailing over her jaw as she fitted herself more tightly against him —
She pulled back suddenly, a breathless smile on her lips.
'That was probably a bad idea.'
He arched an eyebrow, his fingers still tracing short, teasing lines along her jaw. 'Was it?'
She nodded, but she didn't make any moves to back away. 'I can't be getting all distracted.'
'And yet…'
Lily pressed up onto her toes and kissed him again, chastely this time. She lowered back down onto her heels and took a step back. 'Alright. Do you mind if I use this fire?' She nodded towards the one along the far wall, the one he still hadn't used once since moving in.
He shrugged. 'No. Do you need a fire in it or?'
'I've got it.' She pulled her wand out of her pocket, pointed it at the empty grate, and gave it a quick flick, and a bright orange fire burst to life there.
He'd seen so much magic at this point that he really shouldn't be surprised, but still —
She smiled at him as she tucked her wand away and pulled a small pouch out of another pocket. She grabbed a pinch of the powder inside and tossed it into the fire.
'I'll write soon,' she said, as the fire blazed green.
James nodded. 'I'll be waiting.'
She held his gaze for a moment longer before she stepped into the fire and, in a rush of colour, she spun away.
The moment Lily'd disappeared, James sighed heavily and, because he realised that they'd crawled up towards his ears while he'd been standing there, he rolled his shoulders down in an attempt to ease the tension.
He tried not to get frustrated by the fact that she was keeping him out of this.
He wasn't entirely successful, but he'd take what he could get. Especially because there was no sense in working himself up about something that he couldn't change.
He was still sitting on the sofa a few hours later, his feet up on the coffee table, an old episode of Gogglebox on that was just distracting enough to keep him from obsessing but wasn't something he really needed to pay attention to, when there were a few sharp taps on the window.
James nearly shot up out of his seat when he noticed Lily's owl on the window sill.
As it was, he nearly sprinted across the lounge and yanked the window open — Circe was, per usual, not even remotely amused by his enthusiasm — so the owl could hop inside. Circe, though, was apparently not interested in staying, because she just stuck her leg inside James' window and looked at him, a bored sort of look on her face.
James untied the letter, his fingers fumbling slightly over the knot, and, the moment she was free, Circe turned and took off into the night.
James shut the window and slit the letter open as he walked back across the room to sit on the couch.
26 April 2020 — 01:19
James,
I know that you're probably still very frustrated that I left like I did this afternoon. I'm sorry. I know that it doesn't make up for it, for the feeling like I'm intentionally leaving you out, but I am. Sorry.
Moody needed me to come in alone — he'd specified as much in his letter — because he needed me to take part in the questioning of the suspect they'd pulled in this evening. Me and Remus. We knew the person that they pulled in — we'd gone to school with him — and Moody thought that we might be able to get a bit more out of him.
He was the one I told you about, actually. The one who attacked Mary in our fifth year.
It was hard seeing him — world's biggest understatement — but I'm going to be alright. I think.
Anyway, we managed to get some good information out of him, Remus and I. Me especially. I'm not proud of the things I had to say to get them, but all that matters is that we got them.
They were planning on bombing the Waterloo Underground station. In a week.
James' breath fell out of him then and he had to set the letter down on his lap.
Waterloo.
Fucking Waterloo station.
They —
He let his eyes fall closed for a moment and he took a deep, steadying breath. He wasn't feeling any better when he opened them — his hands were still trembling — but he smoothed the paper out on his thigh as best he could and carried on reading.
This is the first time we've ever gotten out ahead of them and actually stopped something and, James — thank god. That would have been… it would have been terrible. I can't even imagine how bad it would have been.
I'm going to be at the Ministry through the night and probably most the day tomorrow. I'm not sure when I'll be home again but I'll be in touch — probably over the pad. I don't think that anything else is going to happen, but things are a bit mad here at the moment (even carving out ten minutes to scribble this out, sorry about my handwriting by the way, was going to be impossible if I didn't shut my door and ask Remus to bar anyone else from entering for a few minutes). There are reporters from the Prophet around because news of the arrest somehow slipped and I've called in loads of people and —
I'll be here for a while.
I'll be in touch immediately, though, if anything changes. I don't anticipate anything else, but you never know. I hope you have a restful night.
x Lily
P.s. I wasn't going to mention it here because it seems wrong given the content of this letter, but I also couldn't end this without saying something. I had the most amazing time with you today/last night, James. And I know that now is the worst time, but I also think that it was just what I needed. To be with you. To open up.
I miss you already. So much.
I'll see you Friday.
xxxx
James looked at the line of kisses at the end of the letter for a long minute, a stupid little smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he imagined her scratching them into the paper.
But then he looked back up and skimmed through her letter again — the boy who'd attacked her friend at school, I'm not proud of the things I had to say to get them, I'm going to be alright. I think — and, all of a sudden, he felt like his heart had climbed into his throat.
What had she had to say? And how could he be sitting here, in his fucking lounge, when she was in her office in the Ministry, alone, after something like that?
She'd said she was going to be okay, but he knew her. He knew her as well as he knew himself. And the fact that she'd even let herself tack on that "I think" without redrafting the entire letter so she didn't pass on that one moment of uncertainty?
He couldn't help but worry.
But she hadn't asked him to come.
And Remus was there. She wasn't alone.
He felt like he was justifying it to himself, staying at Number 10, but he —
Would he make it worse if he somehow figured out how to show up there? If he just rolled in and sat with her in her office and —
He exhaled hard and shook his head. He was being stupid. She hadn't asked him to come.
Still, he couldn't help running downstairs and grabbing his notepad and a pen off his desk and writing You alright? as he started back upstairs.
The pad was blank for a few seconds, but, by the time he was walking back through the door to the residence, he saw her reply start to blot back up through the page.
Yes. Thank you for checking xx
He looked down at the paper for a minute, waiting to see if she'd say anything else, but the notepad stayed determinedly blank. Finally, he took a quick breath and scribbled out another message.
If you need me, Lily, I'm here for you. And if you need to come over, you know how to find my grate
I miss you, too xxxx
He looked down at the paper for a bit but, when she didn't reply right away, James figured that she was caught up in something. He set the notepad down on his knee so it was just in the corner of his eye and flicked his gaze back up the to television. They were nearly at the end of this episode of Gogglebox, though, apparently, there was another one coming on immediately after. And while he enjoyed this show — which felt really strange to say, given what it was — he still couldn't bear to watch too much of it in a row, so he was going to have to either turn the television off and drag himself to bed or find something else to watch.
He should go to bed. Especially because he hadn't gotten any work done today and he was definitely going to have to catch up tomorrow.
He was just scrolling through the channel guide when saw a note appear on the paper from the corner of his eye.
Thank you, James. Really.
I'll see you Friday xxxxx
He looked down at her note for a long moment, a slightly warmer feeling flooding his chest. And it was amazing to him how little it took for him to melt completely again.
She just — she was —
He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath before he grabbed his notepad, shut off the television, and started off to bed.
find me on tumblr? same username :)
I'll see you tomorrow