A/N: The Slug Club dinner party from Chapter 9, but from Lily's POV. Enjoy! Tumblr: missgryffin

Should Skin You Alive

LILY

Lily had nothing to wear. Nothing. She had a whole wardrobe full of clothes and not one single thing called out stuffy dinner party with the boy she fancied, an ex-boyfriend, and two ex-flings, one of whom seemed to fancy her again even though she'd demoted their date to a friend date.

"Need some help, Lil?" Mary's voice floated over from where she sat on her bed, finishing some quick notes before heading downstairs for dinner in the Great Hall.

Lily sighed, then called back over her shoulder, "No, I'm just…deciding."

Or trying to, anyway. How she felt, what she wanted, what she should do…

"Black's usually your color."

James's hair was black.

"Hmm."

Marlene appeared at her shoulder, pulling apart her loose plaits, now extra wonky from dueling, as she said, "Well, we should definitely do your hair down. Something glam, you know?"

Lily shrugged, feeling a hint of butterflies in her stomach as she thought about James, her mind going back to Slughorn's Welcome Back party and the sight of him looking beyond fit in that posh get-up she'd never seen until then.

She forced her thoughts back to the wardrobe of clothes in front of her. She needed to get a grip. "Doesn't the hair depend on the dress?"

Marlene paused her work on Lily's hair to thumb through the racks in Lily's wardrobe.

"We'll just pick something that works with hair down." She turned and fixed Lily with a smug look. "That's non-negotiable, James loves your hair."

Lily gaped at her. "That's not—"

Marlene's smile was positively malicious. "Relevant? Please. He ogles you every chance he gets."

Lily clamped her mouth shut, thinking it was probably best not to say anything.

Her friend quirked a brow. "And so does the bloke you have a date with on Saturday."

Lily sighed. "I told you, it's just a friend date, Marly."

Marlene rolled her eyes. "Yes, because it's completely platonic when he was the one who got away at the end of fifth year."

Lily threw her a dark look but didn't say anything. Garrytt sort of had been the one who got away at the end of fifth year, and if it weren't for James, she probably would be into Garrytt again. But somehow, James had changed everything and turned her world upside down in just a few short weeks. Though she didn't feel ready to talk about that just yet.

Marlene returned to Lily's wardrobe, reaching the end of the row of dresses with her own humph. "You wore this black one to the other Slug Club party, didn't you?"

"Mhmm." Lily let out a long breath. "But I really don't have any other options, do I?"

Behind her, Dahlia chimed, "Hold on," and scooted off her bed, discarding her Alchemy book on her nightstand. She went to her own wardrobe, ruffling through the hangers before pulling out what she was looking for. Mary, glancing up from her notes, gave a low whistle and flashed Lily a grin, and then Dahlia was laying the dress on Lily's bed.

"I think you should wear this."

Lily looked down, immediately skeptical.

Dahlia just looked up at her with her signature elfish smirk. "Trust, Lil."

xxx

Forty-five minutes later, Lily stood in the common room, hands fidgeting and smoothing her dress, which felt lusciously soft under her palm. Upstairs, this dress had seemed like a great idea. It was a deep emerald velvet that made her eyes pop and her skin glow, and it was lightly ruched around the waist to drape and cling around her curves. It also had a dangerously high slit up one leg, but the fabric fell in such a way that it wasn't an obvious slit, though it very well might be once she sat down.

But now, downstairs in the common room, her girlfriends gone down to dinner, her nice black dress robes draped over her shoulders, the idea of James seeing her in this dress made her stomach do backflips. Though, she also rather liked thinking of him having to endure the evening with that slit in his peripheral vision.

Footsteps pulled her attention to the boys' staircase, where James was coming down in his signature saunter. Her heart immediately lodged in her throat. Fuck. Merlin, he was so fit. He was only wearing simple men's dress clothes, black slacks and cloak with a crisp white shirt, and it looked like he had actually made an effort to tame and style his hair, and it truly wasn't fair how he could look that deliciously good.

Lily watched his eyes travel over her body, feeling a flush rise up around her cheeks, and she smirked to herself, knowing exactly what he was seeing. As his eyes lifted back up to hers, he grinned at her, all crinkly eyes and white teeth and fucking dimples that made her feel like the world was upside-down, and then suddenly he was next to her and his fingertips brushed her waist under her cloak, his voice low and husky as he said, "You're always stunning, Evans."

Lily looked up at him through her lashes, heart positively racing, absurd thoughts of pushing him back onto the sofa and straddling his lap filling her mind, and somehow, thank Merlin, the coherent part of her brain that knew she needed to keep it together took over her mouth, and she heard herself saying smoothly back, "You're pretty dapper yourself, Potter."

He smirked back at her, hazel eyes sparkling, and Lily forced herself to move toward the portrait hole before they wound up missing the dinner party entirely.

"Ready for your first proper Slug Club Dinner Party?"

"As I'll ever be, I suppose. Should I practice reciting my family tree on our walk down?"

Lily swatted him, and James laughed. They made friendly small talk on the long trek downstairs, covering class (though they were both careful not to mention Defense that day), Head duties (they'd each given out detentions that day, James to a mouthy third-year and Lily to a bullying first year) and friends (James suspected Peter had a crush on one of the sixth-year girls), and they reached the dungeons in no time. Lily led the way to Slughorn's private quarters, having been in his dining room for many Slug Club dinners before, and watched out of the corner of her eye as James took in the cozy yet ornate room.

As Garrytt had predicted, it was a small group of Slughorn's favorite seventh years, and as Lily had expected, Slughorn had set out place settings, seating her between Slughorn and James.

With James on her left side. Lily's insides fluttered with anticipation as she scooted in her chair. James settled in next to her, Dolohov on his other side, and Lily's eyes passed around the table, trading friendly smiles with Edgar, Garrytt, and Aiko. They had attended many a Slughorn dinner party together and had always stuck together at Slug Club parties, a united front against Slughorn's Slytherin favorites. She felt a grim satisfaction knowing Dolohov was outnumbered and, even more than that, she felt an unexpected sense of calm with James next to her.

Slughorn greeted them all jovially and, per his habit, immediately began catching up with each student, starting with Aiko. Lily sipped her wine, trying not to dwell on James at her side, though it was increasingly difficult with each smooth sip. She could just feel his presence, like an energy radiating toward her. As Slughorn moved on to Garrytt, she snuck a sideways glance at James and caught him taking a sip of his own wine, long fingers curled under the glass, cheekbone popping. The column of his throat moved as he swallowed. Heat surged through her, and she looked determinedly away, picking at her food in an attempt to distract herself, though she was suddenly so bloody fluttery she could barely eat.

Edgar was the object of Slughorn's interrogation now, and Lily was getting closer to finishing her first glass already. Probably not a good sign, considering how she needed to keep it together. But James was politely still next to her, his arm resting on the table, hand casually covering the bottom of his glass, and if she glanced down she could see his thigh straining slightly in his slacks where they bunched from him sitting down, and her mind immediately flashed to how that hard thigh felt between her legs, when she was squeezing and squirming and—

Fucking hell, she needed to stop. She hadn't listened to a single polite conversation, had no idea what Slughorn and Dolohov were talking about, and she was now beyond bloody aroused at Slughorn's dining table because all she could think about was hooking up with James. Fabulous. Just fabulous. She'd meant to be a tease and get James all hot and bothered at dinner, and now she had ended up being the one squirming uncomfortably in her seat.

Lily shifted in her chair, crossing her left leg over her right, willing herself to calm down.

But then she heard a slight intake of breath next to her, saw James tense in his chair, and she realized what she'd done. With her leg crossed like that, her slit had fallen open, exposing a long stretch of pale thigh easily within his reach.

Oh, damn. She'd wanted this tension something evil, and now that it was here, she wasn't sure she'd be able to bear it.

Next to her, James finished his glass of wine in one swallow, and from her other side, Slughorn slid the bottle in front of her. Lily reached for it, but James had reached at the same time, and their fingers bumped into each other. She glanced up at him, meeting his eye for the first time since they'd sat down, and felt her heart beating in her throat. She quickly withdrew her hand, and then James picked up the bottle and expertly poured her a new glass. For fuck's sake, how did he even make pouring wine look so damn sexy?

She picked up her glass, taking a lingering sip as he turned to refill his own, and she smirked to herself as she saw the generous pour he gave himself. She rather liked knowing he was as bothered as she was.

It was now James's turn to be questioned, and Lily's eyes moved between Slughorn and James curiously as Slughorn clapped his hands together and exclaimed, "Mr. Potter! Our very own Potions legacy! Though I hear you have more of a hand for Transfiguration, now, yes? And, perhaps, a certain penchant for dueling?"

James smiled politely, one side of his mouth turning up higher than the other to show off that fucking dimple. "You could say that."

Slughorn seemed pleased. "And how is Euphie?"

Lily supposed it made sense that Slughorn knew her, what with her being Chairwoman and all, but something about the familiarity of Slughorn's tone still took her by surprise.

"She's great," James told him. "Really well."

"I had heard that one of her brothers had died—Rudolph, perhaps?"

Lily's stomach did a little lurch. She hadn't known that. Come to think of it, aside from now having met both of James's parents and knowing a bit about his distant lineage from class, she realized with a jolt that she really didn't know anything about James's family.

James just nodded. "Yeah, he did. While he was abroad."

Slughorn appeared concerned. "And is she alright? Is she getting on?"

James shrugged. "Yeah, she's getting on. It was hard on her this summer, it came as a shock. She was closer to Rudy than Will, but not as much as Bram."

Lily's mind raced, and she didn't miss how Slughorn seemed to completely understand this information. "Willem always was a bit…difficult."

James's tone didn't betray any emotion. "Honestly, Professor, you probably know more than me on that."

Slughorn chortled as he poured himself more wine. "Eh, you're probably right. Anyway, I wanted to ask you something else about Euphie. I heard a rumor"—Slughorn's eyes glittered—"about a certain piece of treasure. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Lily's eyes widened as she looked at James, the tension thick around the table.

"Er—no. I heard a rumor too, but—there wasn't anything to it."

She genuinely couldn't tell if he was telling the truth, and she suddenly remembered Remus's Top 10 list. He is also a superb liar, though he only lies when absolutely necessary. Was she seeing that in action? She couldn't tell if she was more disturbed or turned on by the idea.

Slughorn was studying James carefully. "I see…Well, it's unfortunate, I won't lie about that, a gem of that value, would have been groundbreaking, you know—but it has been missing for centuries now, should have known…"

And with that, Slughorn turned to Lily, greeting her warmly and asking her about her parents and how her dad liked his new job. She was oddly touched that he'd remembered, as she'd only mentioned it off-hand, but Slughorn had always been like that: making each of his hand-picked students feel special, feel seen, and though he headed Slytherin house, he'd never once made Lily feel inferior for being Muggle-born.

With dinner over, the plates turned for dessert, and by the time she'd sunk her spoon into the chocolate cheesecake sitting in front of her, James, Dolohov, and Slughorn had ended up in a rather political conversation relating to blood purity. Lily shifted uncomfortably in her chair, suddenly not very hungry.

A couple seats down, Dolohov drawled, "I understand some may have thought it was controversial, but the school legislation that was proposed—"

James cut across him. "Rejected."

Lily felt a surge of attraction for him just then, and she watched as Dolohov turned narrowed eyes toward James. "It was proposed."

James's face was stone-cold as he said, "Technically, it was introduced, and it didn't make it out of committee, which means it was rejected. It's gone."

Dolohov set his jaw, glaring at James, and Lily's stomach did somersaults.

Slughorn cut in with his attempt at neutral diplomacy. "It had been modeled after similar proposed legislation at the Ministry, I think."

James was quick to retort, "Also rejected. Right Bones?"

Lily's eyes snapped over to Edgar, who looked surprised at addressed in the midst of this conversation, but then he cleared his throat and answered, "Er—yes, it—it was rejected before it got to the floor."

She didn't miss James nod at him, and Edgar gave a small smile.

Slughorn poured more wine and chortled, "We may have some aspiring politicians in our midst, eh? Mr. Dolohov, Mr. Potter, Mr. Bones, you all would be quite well-suited to professions in the Ministry…as would you, Mr. Ollivander, though I presume your career is already settled."

Garrytt just nodded.

Edgar chimed in, "It's where I plan to go, Professor. Though, I'm more interested in the Wizengamot—the legal side—than the political side."

Slughorn beamed at him. "And I dare say your father has already introduced you to Tiberious?"

Edgar nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, I'm to be the British Youth Representative for the spring term."

"Excellent, excellent…And you, Mr. Potter?" Slughorn's eyes twinkled. "I don't suppose we'll see you in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but perhaps somewhere else…?"

Lily's eyes swiveled to James, who chuckled good-naturedly. "Actually, I might be in that department. Auror Office."

"Ah." Slughorn apprised James curiously. "Yes, your talents will serve you well there. Used to be absurdly competitive, but I hear they're taking in a lot more applicants now, wanting to bolster their ranks rather quickly, what with, well, everything that's, er, going on."

Lily's mind raced over this new information. James wanted to be an Auror? She'd known he was annoyingly brilliant, obviously—he'd always been the type that could do well with far less studying—but she'd always assumed he would try to play professional Quidditch after Hogwarts. Not do something useful and fucking heroic.

"That's what Moody said," James replied. "Always need more people in a war."

The table fell silent, Slughorn opening and closing his mouth stupidly, and that nervous heaviness resettled in Lily's chest.

Dolohov's quiet voice broke the silence. "It won't be enough."

Lily's pulse picked up its pace as she watched James and Dolohov glare at each other as Dolohov taunted him, "Moody's band of rag-tag soldiers is falling apart by the day. I'd think someone as competitive as you wouldn't want to join the side that's losing."

Though James's voice sounded controlled, his grip on the stem of his wine glass gave him away. "Feeling cocky after your test, eh? Going after people who can't defend themselves make you better about yourself?"

Damnit. The bloody idiot was going to give them away. Lily's hand shot to his leg, just above his knee; she hadn't even thought about it, she'd just known she needed to warn him, remind him, that they weren't supposed to know that little piece of information.

James tensed under her, and she vaguely heard Dolohov say, "Protecting the magical race makes me feel better about myself."

Ugh, that sick bastard. Lily hated herself for having had a dalliance with him fifth year, though she supposed he hadn't yet been as evil then. Dolohov's gaze flickered down and Lily knew he was seeing the slit of her dress, her hand on James's leg, and then he was looking straight at her, a curious expression on his face. Lily glared back at him only a moment, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing he rattled her, and then she smoothly withdrew her hand and reached for her wine, saying to Slughorn, "You can count on me to skip politics and stick to banking, Professor."

Slughorn laughed, accepting the change in topic eagerly. "Right you are, m'dear, right you are. And perhaps keep tinkering with Potioneering on the side? You'd be an invaluable addition to the field. Have I told you I've received a new inquiry from New Potioneering?"

Lily shook her head, forcing a smile. "Not yet, but that's wonderful, sir."

Conversation about Potions then turned to conversations about the N.E.W.T. classes in general, and the dessert plates—which Lily noticed her and James had barely touched—disappeared, only to be replaced by glasses for coffee and port.

"And Defense," Slughorn said animatedly, "tell me, what do you all think of Dearborn this year? I hear he is having you seventh years do more of a practical course."

Edgar spoke up first. "Yes sir, there's a duel each class, names get drawn at random. It's certainly an effective way to learn."

"And have you all dueled?"

They all looked at each other, and then Aiko answered, "I think I'm the only one who hasn't gone yet. Eddie, you and Dolohov dueled already. James and Lily have both gone—Lily, you've gone twice, you dueled Gare today."

"Oho!" Slughorn's cheeks were a ruddy pink, his face delighted as he looked between her and Garrytt. "Two of the Slug Club, eh? And who won, I wonder?"

Garrytt smiled charmingly. "I'll give you one guess, Professor."

Slughorn raised an eyebrow at Lily. "Miss Evans?"

Lily set her wine down, her stomach twisting in a knot, and looked between Garrytt and Slughorn as she admitted, "Er, yes, I—I won the duel today."

Slughorn turned his gaze on Garrytt. "You didn't let her win, did you?"

Garrytt was looking right at her, his gaze smoldering while he said, "No, I didn't let her win. Almost had her, actually."

Her spine prickled, and any doubt over his intentions that afternoon solidified into knowing. He was flirting with her—in the open. In front of James. In front of a bloody teacher.

Slughorn seemed impressed. "Did you now?"

"Nah, he didn't."

Lily whipped her head around to James, finding him staring across the table at Garrytt with his jaw set.

"She let you hit her."

Her heart leapt into her throat, her whole body gone rigid. How did he know that? Had she really been that obvious? And even if he had somehow realized it, why the bloody fucking hell was he announcing it to everyone? She was already glaring at him when he glanced at her, and she willed every ounce of anger she could into her face, hoping he picked up on her silent scream of what the fuck are you doing?

Edgar asked James, "Why would she do that?"

James tore his eyes from Lily's to look between Edgar and Garrytt. "To distract him. And it worked."

She fleetingly wondered if she'd be able to pull off murder and get away with it, but then Garrytt was watching her, his brow furrowed, like he was playing it all back in his mind. She wished he'd stop. "But you were tired."

Lily didn't respond, and Garrytt didn't seem to expect her to, because then he looked back at James. "We all saw her face. She slowed down."

Her reach for his leg was instinctual. She gripped him tightly by the knee, sending her silent message through the dig of her fingers. Don't you fucking dare.

She didn't realize her legs had uncrossed in the movement until she felt his hand—warm, slightly calloused—squeeze the bare skin of her thigh just above her knee, sending some mixture of lightening and arousal surging through her veins.

Her heart threatened to pop out of her chest as she watched James swirl his wine in his glass with his other hand, as if he and Lily weren't in an unspoken tug-of-war under the table.

His voice was too casual as he said, "Nah, she wasn't tired." He looked over at her, and she took in his blown eyes, the slight flush in his cheeks. There was something intense there, something…territorial. She could feel it in the grip of his hand, see it in the slight quirk of the corner of his mouth as he said, "She was just…faking it. Weren't you, Evans?"

Oh, fuck him. Fuck. Him. She knew she was flushing, could feel the heat on her neck, but more than embarrassment (which she realized was what she probably should have been feeling, considering who was at the table), she was suddenly consumed with blinding, fiery anger.

James looked away from her, turning to Garrytt, then Edgar, then Dolohov. "What, none of you noticed?"

The silence just then was deafening. Lily thought for sure they could all hear the thunder of her heart threatening to burst from her body. Her eyes unwillingly landed on Aiko, who was looking at her with her eyebrows halfway up her forehead, mouth open in a small, shocked oh.

Her insides burned, and before her brain could catch up to the angry adrenaline surging through her body, James was squeezing her leg, and Lily hated him in that moment like she'd never hated him before, because as angry as she was, that squeeze still sent a whole other zing of arousal up her spine.

And she swore he knew it, because just then he smirked and said, "You're a good actress, Evans, but you can't fake it for me."

He was dead. So fucking dead. She would kill him—no, eviscerate him.

Using every ounce of strength she had to not overturn the table on him, Lily withdrew her hand and snapped, "The day we have to duel in that bloody class, Potter, whatever pieces of you are left are going to be carried out on a fucking stretcher."

Slughorn burst into laughter behind her, exclaiming, "Oh, Mr. Potter, m'boy, you better watch out, I don't doubt for a second she means it."

James's eyes bored into hers, the eerie glow from the green flames in the mantle making his face look paler, sharper. She could cut herself on those cheekbones if she wasn't careful. And then his hand was gone, the absence of that firm heat more jarring than any words he'd said, and he bloody winked at her. "Can't wait."

It was a miracle she made it through the rest of the dinner, though it admittedly didn't last much longer after that. A strange new tension had thickened in the room, and Lily chewed her cheek, not deigning to give Dolohov the satisfaction of a look, not able to bring herself to meet the eyes of Edgar or Garrytt, and finding herself increasingly annoyed by the way Aiko looked interestedly between her and James.

Right when she dared hope she would be able to quickly escape that suffocating tension, Slughorn dashed it by telling James and Lily to stay back while he gave polite farewells to the others. Lily stood with arms folded, pretending to study the wall of Slug Club memorabilia until Slughorn turned back to them, asking about gossip on younger prefects and students they thought worthy for the Slug Club. Lily threw herself into this new distraction, telling Slughorn about what she knew of each of the new prefects, not usually a gossip but wanting to get this conversation over with, and James surprised her by interjecting to put in a good work about Emmeline Vance.

"Miss Vance?" Slughorn's eyebrows raised. "She's always been a quiet student…"

"She's sharp," James told him. "Quick on her feet. Worth watching, at least."

Lily happened to agree, but she ignored James as Slughorn clapped him on the shoulder.

Finally—finally—they were dismissed, and Lily stalked out of Slughorn's quarters and through the maze of the dungeons in fuming silence. She barely paid attention to where they were going, grateful for the first time that she'd been to so many Slug Club events if only so that her feet could now trace a familiar path while her brain stewed in anger, and then they had rounded a corner and Lily saw only the briefest flash of Dolohov and Snape emerging into the corridor through the wall before James's hand was over her mouth and her body was pulled backwards, around the corner they'd just turned.

She stilled, pulse pounding madly in her ears, and then heard too-familiar voices floating through the air.

"—my test, Sev. How the fucking hell would Potter know about that?"

Severus sounded exasperated. "Potter doesn't know shit, I'm sure it was just a coincidence."

"You didn't slip when you talked to Evans? You didn't mention anything that she would have ran off and told him?"

Severus's voice was cold. "No, I didn't slip. I don't slip, Dolohov, as you well know. And she wouldn't run off and tell him anything."

"You sure about that, Sev?"

"Of course I'm sure—"

"Then why was her hand on his leg at dinner?"

Lily closed her eyes. Damn.

Severus spluttered. "That doesn't—you saw wrong—"

"No," Dolohov said cooly, "I didn't, and Dru thinks they might be shagging."

Double damn. But also—a new, distinct pressure prodding into her backside pulled her attention away from the conversation around the corner and to how her back so perfectly aligned with James's front. One of his arms was secure around her middle while his other hand rested across her mouth, and right where her bum fit perfectly into his pelvis, she felt it. Or, rather, him. Hard and straining and only a slight shift away from pressing against where she was suddenly aching for him and—damn.

Lily scolded herself for getting distracted. For fuck's sake, she already knew James was packing and that he knew what to do with it, and now, with Slytherins right around the corner, was not the time to be dwelling on it. Really, could he not keep it together for five bloody minutes? She needed to concentrate, and hate him, and she couldn't very well do that when he was so aroused for her like that.

She twisted her shoulders to turn her head and glare at him. His eyes glittered back at her, and he lifted his hand from her mouth to raise a finger to his lips, shaking his head. Fine. She acquiesced, turning back around to stare at the wall in front of her, and felt his other arm slacken, his hand resting on her hip. Thoughts of murdering him aside, she rather liked the feeling of him holding her just there.

"—yes, Sev, there's a room on the fifth floor where Potter and Evans both go. Look, I didn't believe Dru either, we all know she's hated him for years, but you didn't see them tonight."

"What does that mean?"

"It means they have this tension, Sev. She was wearing this dress with a slit that went practically all the way up her leg, Potter looked like he was about to jump her at the table. And something Potter said…"

Dolohov trailed off, but Lily's stomach knotted. She knew exactly what Dolohov was thinking about, and now James did, too. But then she felt a twisted satisfaction as Severus demanded, "What? What did Potter say?"

Dolohov had never told anyone. Severus still had no idea that while he'd been hating James for liking Lily in fifth year, one of Severus's best friends had been messing around with her. The guilt over Severus not knowing about her and Dolohov had worn away with time, but now a strange pang of it returned as she realized how deeply hurt Severus would be if he found out now, on top of the open wound she imagined he was still nursing over learning she had a thing with James.

Dolohov sounded frustrated. "I can't—you had to be there—you wouldn't get it."

Severus was not to be deterred. "Tell me what Potter said."

"It doesn't matter what he said. What's important is he implied they'd shagged."

"She wouldn't do that."

"Because you know her so well?"

Severus didn't say anything, and Dolohov went on, "I thought so. Well, change in plan. I don't think Potter's full of hot air on this, I saw the look on her face. We need Dru."

"Where is Dru?" Severus sounded impatient.

Dolohov sighed. "Who knows, probably getting sidetrack—"

But then Drucilla's voice appeared. "Hope you fellas weren't waiting around too long, got stuck chatting with Parkinson—what'd I miss?"

There was a moment of silence, followed by Dolohov breaking it, saying, "I think you're right, Dru. I had Slughorn's dinner tonight, and Potter and Evans were there. They have some weird tension going on. She had her hand on his leg."

Drucilla gasped. "Wait, really?"

The knot in Lily's stomach tightened. She heard right through that blasé tone, knew exactly what Drucilla wanted based on their encounter with her on patrol, and Drucilla could stuff it.

Suddenly, in very quick succession, she realized that beneath the sound of voices she heard footsteps, and then right as panic began to set in, she felt the tip of a wand on the top of her head and twitched at the unexpected sensation of an egg being cracked over her. The feeling spread down her spine, through her limbs, and then, to her amazement, she realized she was disappearing. She held up her hands, wiggled her fingers, and saw only stone corridor. Glancing down, she saw only more stone corridor behind her where James should have been.

Blimey, he had Disillusioned them. Oh, that brilliant—

She cut off the thought, reminding herself she was still angry at him for being a territorial and cocky arsehole. She could think about how he was brilliant later.

The Slytherins were right at the corner, and Lily held her breath, willing them to somehow pass her and James by in the narrow corridor without bumping into them, but then Dolohov suddenly threw out an arm, stopping the other two.

"Wait—wrong way. We're meeting in the second-year classroom, remember? Mixing it up each time?"

"Oh yeah," Drucilla said.

Lily couldn't believe their luck. The Slytherins were turning, were out of sight, their footsteps receding, and relief like she'd never felt before washed through her. She slumped back into James as the release of her breath deflated her body, her head fitting perfectly into the curve of his shoulder.

"Fuck," she whispered. "That was close."

The hand that had been gripping her hip slid over her stomach, pulling her against him, and she felt him relax behind her as he tried to catch the breath he'd been holding. She reached a hand up to his neck, holding onto him lightly, and felt just how fast his heart was racing.

"Evans—"

His hips pressed ever so slightly into her bum as he held onto her tightly, and Lily smirked to herself. "Having a hard time tonight, Potter?"

He didn't answer right away, but she felt the soft press of his fingertips run up her thigh through the slit of her dress, and the tingles from his touch were still shooting up her spine as he murmured into her ear, lips ghosting her skin, "Isn't that what you wanted?"

Lily couldn't control the gasp that escaped her just then, nor how her body instinctively arched back into him, seeking more of that hard bulge pressing into her skin through layers of clothes, rolling her head into his shoulder and toward his neck—

"Evans—"

And Merlin did she hate him sometimes, hate the way he could make her beyond aroused even when she was blindingly angry, how he could swing between arrogant cad and clever rogue in the blink of an eye. And more than anything, she hated how absurdly turned on she was by both.

She whipped around, pressing her front against his, and whispered heatedly, "I should skin you alive for that fucking show you just put on."

James spun her around, pinning her against the stone wall, and for a moment she felt dizzy, disoriented from moving with him and feeling him but not being able to see him.

"Tell me I'm wrong," he whispered back. "Tell me you weren't faking it today. Tell me you didn't let him hit you on purpose so you'd get an opening to win."

Lily breathed hard through her nose, her temper flaring. "You had no right to tell them—"

"The truth? About the duel today?"

"You know exactly what you implied, you fucking prat—"

"What? I'm serious, I saw right through you."

"Oh, fuck you."

"You did yesterday."

"Is this really how you plan on chasing me, Potter?"

His hand found her leg through the slit in her dress. "Tell me you don't like that I see right through you. Tell me you don't like that I notice what they don't."

Her own hands were pinned between their bodies, and her fingers curled into the front of his shirt. She could picture exactly how he'd looked, how that shirt fit snug across his chest, around a tight torso, hiding the muscles she knew were underneath. James slid his hand up her thigh and under her dress, hooking his thumb under the thin line of knickers he found at her hip. When she'd put them on, she'd fleetingly wondered if they might end the night with him pulling them off by his teeth, and she gasped at the memory of her flurried fantasy combined with the touch of his thumb at that sensitive patch of skin on the inside of her hip.

His voice was low in her ear. "Tell me you don't like how I go after what I want."

Lily hissed. "Fucking arrogant—"

His nose nuzzled her cheek, and then his mouth returned to her ear as he squeezed her hip. "Yeah, I fucking am. So are you, wearing this fucking dress when you know exactly what it would do to me."

Her head swam as she closed her eyes, sucked in a breath, completely overwhelmed by him and this tension that had building all night. "And what does it do to you, Potter?"

He pushed her back against the wall, hands firm at her hips, and whispered, "It makes me need to fuck you, Evans."

She thought she might combust on the spot. All the attraction and arousal she'd felt since she first saw him walking down the staircase was now bubbling over, taking complete control, and she just needed him, needed him to kiss her, fuck her, just have her, arrogant, territorial prat that he was. Her hands acted of their own accord, tugging at his shirt, pulling it from his trousers.

"You know," she breathed, "I hate how much it turns me on when you're like this."

She thought she could hear the grin in his voice as he asked, "Like what, Evans?"

Cold air met her legs, and she realized his own hands were pulling up her dress, gathering it around her waist.

She swallowed hard and pushed the words out. "Fucking jealous and territorial—"

"Hey, I kept my jinxes to myself."

It must have been the wine, because never before had Lily ever been possessed to do such a thing, but she instantly reached down between them, cupping and squeezing him through his trousers, and whispered angrily, "Next time, keep your double entendres to yourself, too, or I might be the one jinxing these off."

She expected sass, but not his lips smiling against her skin, and definitely not the whisper that followed: "Fuck, I love it when you're bossy."

Something in her snapped, like all her anger and arousal were fusing into one emotion she couldn't name and had never felt before, and her hands were scrabbling at his belt, her lips seeking his throat, and James slid his fingers along the lacy band of her knickers only to push them aside and slip two fingers inside her.

Lily gasped at the touch, her hips bucking towards him, and heard James chuckle softly.

"Damn, Evans. You really do like me being territorial for you."

"Shut up and fuck me, Potter."

Wait, what? Where had those words come from? What was her body and her brain doing, betraying her like this, making her want James Potter with a fire that she'd never dreamed possible, and after he'd acted like a complete git?

But she didn't have time to contemplate such life mysteries, because James was lifting her up and pressing her against the stone wall and her legs were wrapping around him and then he was there, sliding inside her, that firm length she'd craved for hours, filling her up, stroking her in even, rolling thrusts. All lucid thought fled. There was only his hands squeezing her bum and her hands deep in his hair and his lips at her neck, and Lily tried to be quiet but couldn't stop the soft mewling noises that rose up in her throat as she found his ear with her mouth and flicked her tongue over his skin.

"Fuck, Evans." His whisper was husky, broken. "I'm not gonna last. You feel too good. I've been wanting you ever since I first saw you in that dress."

She nipped his ear, her mouth betraying her again as she retorted, "Make me come, Potter."

His lips smiled against her throat, and then his tongue lapped a quick lick that made her shudder. "I'll always make you come, Evans."

Her groan rose from somewhere deep within her, something guttural and primal. Without being able to see him, all of other senses felt overloaded with him. Hair—soft, silky. Skin—smooth, cool. Smell—minty, piney. Breath—chocolate, wine. Hands—calloused, firm. Shoulders—tense, strong. Cock—thick, unyielding.

And her body was insatiable, calling for more more more even as she felt consumed by him, filled to the brim with James, arrogance and all.

Absorbed in him as she was, his whisper took her by surprise. "Tell me what you need. Is this angle gonna get you?"

Her body knew the answer before her brain did. She shimmied against him, grinding her hips around him in more of a circular motion, using her wrapped legs as leverage.

"Like this," she whispered back, and he met her rhythm, groaning out a soft, "Fuck, Lily."

That pressure deep within her suddenly swelled, new pleasure dousing her body at that change in touch, and she pulled harder at his hair, arms tightening around his head, as she whispered a frantic, "James—yes—fuck—faster—I'm close."

He sped up his pace, and then she felt his face nudging for hers, seeking her mouth, and she kissed him, whimpering, until she had to break away, too close to be able to focus, the words practically pushing themselves out of her mouth. "J, fuck, I'm right there."

James dug his fingers into her arse, moved against her with more intensity than he had before, and his whisper was suddenly savage in her ear: "Yeah, Lily—you go—on your fucking friend date—with a bloke—who fucking fancies you—and you think—about me—about this—the whole fucking time."

Ugh, he was so fucking territorial and so stupidly jealous, and yet somehow it was turning her on even more, and she whimpered as she found that spot that she thought would push her over the edge and clutched at him tighter.

James kept going. "You tell yourself—whatever excuses you want—but we both know—I'm the only one—who makes you come."

His words went straight to her core, lighting up every vein, every nerve. Because he was right. He was the only one who had ever made her body sing like this, no matter how much he ticked her off. Lily tightened her grip in his hair, clenching around him as she ground that sensitive spot against his pelvis while he thrust up into her, and she hissed back to him, "I will, James—I will think about you—because you're the only one—who I want to make me come—so if you're done—being a jealous prat—shut up and do it."

She could tell those words worked their own magic on James because his grip tightened and he picked up his pace even more, moving against her with a deliberate intensity that could only come from focus. Every movement, their whole rhythm, was now massaging her right where she needed, her pleasure bubbling rapidly toward the surface. James hitched her up slightly higher, supporting her legs strongly, and it was the perfect amount of leverage she needed as she squirmed against him, chasing her edge with her own frantic thrusts. She dropped her face into his neck and bit his shoulder to muffle her moan, hearing James hiss and whisper, "That's it, baby, come."

Baby. That word in his voice was like a purr, something sexy that she'd never expected to like but found herself obsessed with. She was right at her edge, and James even eased back on his own movements, focusing more on supporting her as she squirmed against him.

"Yes, Lil. Come on."

She was there, she was there—

"C'mere, kiss me when you come."

Her body obeyed without thinking, her lips finding his with a soft brush, and then that next combination of his sliding inside while she swirled her hips against him sent her over, and she gasped a last frantic, "James!" before crushing her mouth against his while her pleasure exploded from the inside, and he kissed her back hard while he thrust into her with only a half-dozen quick, shallow strokes before he sunk all the way into her, holding at the top and pressing her back harder against the wall while she felt a second explosion of pleasure inside, this time of liquid heat as James came hard. Lily found his face with her hands, cradling his cheeks and squeezing her legs tighter around him, her whole body a melting mess as she realized that she liked feeling James come as much as she liked feeling herself, and that she was somehow still beyond aroused for him, even though her orgasm hadn't fully finished yet and, judging from how James was still rocking into her gently, neither had his.

Their mouths were still locked together in a crushing kiss, and somehow, slowly, their kiss turned from a muffling smash to a sensual dance of sliding lips and lingering tongues. James slowly set her down and pulled out of her, and Lily gasped against his mouth, but they kept snogging like they had to make up for all the hours they hadn't snogged since the night before, and they might have kept at it for awhile, maybe even until James was ready to go again, if not for the distant sound of a door.

They broke apart, Lily's senses suddenly hyper-alert, but no other noise followed, and she felt staggeringly disoriented at opening her eyes and remembering, after having spent so many minutes with her eyes closed, that she couldn't see him.

James didn't say anything, and neither did she, but she could hear him breathing, hear the rustle of clothes and zip that told her he was tucking in his shirt and doing up his trousers. Lily smoothed her dress over her hips, shaking it out around her legs, and then took James's searching hand.

"Come on," he whispered. "We should head back upstairs."

She let him pull her along quietly behind him, through winding dungeon corridors, up onto the main level, and then to one of the elf passages that would lead them up to the seventh floor, where he finally lifted their Disillusionment Charms.

Seeing him again knocked the wind out of her. He was beautiful. There was simply no other word to describe him. His hair was tousled, his cheeks flushed, his lips swollen, and his eyes were still dark with desire as they roamed over her. And he looked thoroughly debauched, his shirt wrinkled, his cloak fastening askew, evidence of their tryst drying on his trousers.

The reality of what they'd just done was catching up to her like the Hogwarts Express as she finally noticed the wet trickles down her legs and the slight buzz she felt from those last chugs of wine catching up with her.

"James—"

He squeezed her hand, reminding her he was still holding it. "Later. Let's get upstairs, yeah?"

She nodded, too shocked to think, and let him pull her along by the hand up the long, winding staircase of the passage. It took several minutes to climb the elf passage staircase straight through to the seventh floor landing; they were both moving slowly by the end, trudging with weary legs, and when they got to the top, James immediately dropped her hand and sat heavily on the top stair. Lily followed him, sitting heavily at his side and threading hands into her hair as she dropped her head between her knees, breathing hard.

Eventually she looked up at him, her eyes still wide in shock as she asked, "Did we just—"

James grinned and chuckled softly. "Shag while invisible? Yeah."

Lily was suddenly overcome with breathless laughter at the absurdity of it all, her head tipping back, and then James was laughing with her, his arm circling her shoulders and his lips pressing against her head, and she was consumed with affection for him, this boy who managed to make her feel everything at once and somehow leave her wanting more of him, even when he did act like a territorial prat.

Oh, yeah. That was how it had all started in the first place. James being an arrogant, territorial prat at Slughorn's dinner party and thoroughly ticking her off.

Lily looked up at him through her lashes. "Feeling better, Potter?"

He smirked, biting his lip as he said, "Yeah, Evans. Back to normal."

She rolled her eyes and muttered, "Boys," under her breath. He would feel back to normal after working his jealousy out all over a dungeon corridor, which wasn't surprising. But what was surprising was that she found she rather enjoyed helping him do it, and that she thought that maybe, if that was what being an arrogant, territorial prat led to, she didn't mind James being arrogant or territorial that much after all.