A/N: AH After a million years here is an update...hopefully you like...
"This is - highly improper," Lily says finally, though she's more breathless than stern, and James continues his exploration of her neck undeterred.
His lips find her ear, jaw, temple - then his nose drags along hers and she can't help but tilt her chin so their lips meet in a slow, heady dance.
Vaguely, she hears one of her pearl hair combs clatter to the stone floor, but she can't quite bring herself to care. Or at least not enough to stop things. She does let out an impantiant grunt that has James smirking against her mouth. His voice is low and rough when he murmurs an apology and gently lifts the matching comb from the other side of her hair.
When she opens her eyes, his glasses are crooked, his hair a mess, and he's carefully tucking the comb away in his trouser pocket. She gets a bit distracted, watching his hands work, wondering about all the bits of him she hasn't seen yet. And she does have a wild imagination.
As her cheeks flush, James grins a bit hesitant and ruffles his hair. Nervous like he hadn't just practically had his tongue in her ear. Distracted as she is, Lily nearly misses the fact that she has quite thoroughly dispersed her lipstick across his lips, jaw, and even collar a bit. His collar which is definitely rumpled and scandalously undone.
He takes a deep breath and even in her distracted state, Lily notes the way his shirt stretches with the rise and fall of his chest. She can't help the smile on her face, or lifting her hand so she can toy with the curls at his collar. "You're something else, you know?"
The corridor is dark, save the scattered torches that litter the stone walls, but she can still see James' eyes spark behind his glasses as he smiles back at her. "Ditto, Evans."
"I can't believe we're snogging on rounds like a couple of hormonal teenagers," Lily says with a laugh, though she really is a bit surprised with herself. Even hormonal teen Lily Evans wasn't too fond of this style of late night escapade.
"The Marauders' way," James answers sagely.
"First, I cannot believe you ever called yourselves that, second, I cannot believe you still call yourselves that - "
James pinches her side. "Oi! It's a good name, why give it up?"
Lily blinks up at him, waiting for the laugh, but he's apparently fully behind their little secret society, friend clique name, or he's got an excellent poker face.
But they've played poker with the boys and Professor Flitwick, and James has a terrible tell, and there's not been a single hair ruffle since this little conversation began.
"You're just too much, James Potter."
"Too much as in too much fun? Which is actually impossible. There's always more room for fun to be had," James says with a sharp nod, "And I am an expert on this as I have been told I am 'too much'."
"Oh hell James you're - "
"Attractive? Hilarious?" He ruffles his hair, "Official boyfriend material?"
He's nervous, wondering if she's about to say no like she wasn't just kissing him like the salvation of the entire wizarding world depended on it. "Well I don't just debauch myself in public corridors with just any bloke."
James' answering grin is wide, his teeth a bright slash in the dimness, and soon she's swooped into his warm embrace, not too swept away in the happiness of the moment to take note of how very strong and tempting those swooping arms are.
But apparently a bit too enamored to construct sensical sentences. At least they've managed to stay inside thoughts as of yet. Though James' lips on hers have delayed much conversation post official-official status.
Eventually though, they're both grinning too much to continue. Instead, after James grabs her lost comb, they wander the remaining few hallways to Lily's rooms and with a flick of James' wand, they're greeted by a warm blaze in the fireplace by the time she's lying against him on the small sofa.
"So."
Lily sighs, content. "So."
"Since we're official - "
"Already demanding things, eh?"
He pinches her side again. "No, Evans. I simply want to make plans."
Her heart stutters - plans are...a lot. And normally the idea of capital P plans with even an imaginary man give her clammy palms. So she's surprised to find there's a bit of shock, but at the same time nervous excitement at the idea of Plans with James. It's early yet - she wouldn't say yes to the big P type of plan at the moment. But in the future - she can almost see it, the most she ever has even with her wild imagination.
Lily bites her lip and snuggles closer, tucking that little nugget away for later exploration. Her voice is even steady when she prompts, "Plans?"
"Yes - it's February and you know there are certain things that happen in February - "
"Quidditch is back, right? Is that what you mean?"
A laugh rumbles through James' chest. "I can't quite tell if you're being deliberately obtuse or are genuinely clueless about where I'm going with this."
"February - "
"I know for a fact Muggles do it too."
LIly pushes up from his chest and he stares at her like he's about to laugh or cry, and simply waits for her to catch on. "February - oh God you mean."
James prods her nose with one precise finger. "Got it. Valentines - I think it should be a thing."
"Well it generally is a thing, it's a bloody holiday," Lily smirks, "Actually it was a bloody holiday in America did you know?"
"You're so romantic, Evans," James drawls, "I'm swooning."
They rearrange so her legs are tossed over his lap, long tan fingers fiddling with her cable knit tights. Lily shrugs and begins plaiting her hair in a messy braid. "I'm being up front. Know what you're signing up for, mate."
"I think I know well enough - just don't tell me no Valentine's Day."
Lily pulls a tie from her skirt pocket and twists it around the end of her hair, then stares at James, waiting.
"But I love chocolates - and drama Lily," he practically moans, "You knew what you were signing up for when you got my hopes up and drunk snogged me in a pub!"
"I was not drunk - and neither were you," Lily corrects with a roll of her eyes, "And I think I'm well aware of your - flare for the dramatics. Also thank you for acknowledging I snogged you."
"And any time you would like to do it again, I'm at your service," his smile is dangerous, "For snogs - and chocolate and drama."
"You may bring me chocolates, but not drama."
"But - "
Lily leans in and kisses him, long and thorough enough that she's a light headed and he's breathless and dazed when she pulls away. It's a nice shot to her ego to see him looking a bit wrecked for her efforts.
And yet he still manages to ask with wide, puppy dog eyes. "A little drama?"
One of Lily's favorite things is a solitary afternoon spent enjoying crisp wintery air and February in Scotland provides the perfect setting. The snow crunches beneath her boots as she makes her way to the east side of the Black Lake, her cheeks already chapping with the brisk wind whisking from the dark waters. Bare tree limbs crackle and sway against the clear skies, brilliantly blue after days of snow laden clouds blocking the sun.
It's been too long since she cracked open a new novel and just disappeared into inky bliss, so she lays her woolen blanket across the snow, freshly treated with her special combination of charms chosen for warmth and dryness. The passage of time can only be told by pages turned and gradual movements of the sun.
Daylight is waning and she's counting the remaining pages in her current chapter when scuffed black Doc Martens appear in her peripheral vision. "Evans."
Lily marks her place with one gloved finger and squints up at Sirius Black. "Professor."
"Do you have a moment?"
"What's my scale of determining? Technically or personal preference?"
He tips his head back and the sky and groans. "You just may be worse than the boys."
"Harsh, Black. Harsh," Lily says with a grin as she sits forward, settling her bookmark in place. This is clearly the end of her afternoon of solitude. The sun's setting would have forced it sooner or later.
While she folds her blanket in messy rectangles, Lily glances at Sirius. "So you come here for what I presume is a favor and insult me. Why not let in on the request and know just how unreasonable you're being."
He offers her a hand up and together they begin picking their way back toward the castle, windows glowing against the darkening sky. Their breaths fog the air and Sirius sniffs from the cold. "I'm working on my arsenal for Remus' time of the month. I'm trying some new brews and it's a bit - "
"Is Sirius Black admitting he needs help?"
Sirius sniffles again. "Not a big deal, Evans. Get over yourself."
Lily hums. "Not a big deal? So if we just stop by the Great Hall and let the boys know we're - "
He stiffens. "Fine. It's a big deal," he sighs and looks pained, "- that I trust you."
With a grin Lily follows his lead toward the Dungeons, the corridors are quiet save a few late-to-dinner scampering students who don't take much notice. Not with food on their minds.
Brewing is pretty companionable work, Lily's always thought. With the right partner, it almost feels like working on the Christmas stuffing with mum. Steady chopping, adding ingredients at just the right moment, and adding that special extra something those recipes you know so well.
They've just hit a stopping point - having completed the careful nineteen and a quarter stirs - when Sirius props his hip on his stool and pins Lily with his grey eyes. She almost slices her finger.
"We need a chat, Evans."
Lily blinks at him and sips at her tepid tea. Something exotic and delicious Sirius keeps locked away in his desk. The spicy aroma tickles her nose. "Go on."
His eyes narrow, not like he's already made a judgment and it's a negative one. More like he's weighing powdered erumpent horn and can't quite decide if he's accidentally reached 'blow up the west end of the castle' territory. Sirius rolls his lips and finally says, "You know I trust Remus."
"I presume," Lily says and gestures with her knife for him to continue, taking a moment to flex her tense fingers.
Sirius sighs, like he's bucking up. "But I also need to talk with you about James."
"Are you asking me my intentions? Like you're James' mum?"
"James' mother would be lightyears more up front," Sirius says with a laugh. "She's already asked me to see if she needs to get the family jewelry resized."
"That's subtle in a way," Lily muses, resuming her careful dicing and blinking away the fog from her vision, the part of working in a potions dungeon she hasn't missed.
"She asked for your ring size and said, this is an exact quote, 'James needs all the help he can get.'"
She can't help the grin that sneaks onto her lips as she grasps her tea again, throat dry from the Scottish winter. "Well he is a bit of a mess."
With a twist of his face like he doesn't like hearing her admittedly endeared tone, Sirius sighs. "Cute. You're very cute."
Before she can fire back one of the witty barbs she hopes even Jane Austen would find entertaining, her teacup falls from her fingertips with an ear splitting crash and the everything goes dark.