Lily Evans: charms expert, quidditch enthusiast, and expert allergy collector. That's what her epitaph will read. Because those seem destined to be her three most obvious and memorable traits. Her red hair might have worked it's way in if she hadn't turned 16 and suddenly turned into one giant rash.

The Evans family has a history of hay fever style reactions. It's expected, usual.

When Lily turned 9 and discovered looking at a peanut made her tongue swell up, it was a disappointment but doable.

She turned 16 and her love affair with dairy products was brought to an untimely end involving a whirlwind romance with the toilet at Frannie's - Cokeworth's favorite summertime ice cream parlor. That was the summer of her marathon of new allergies.

Including, apparently, her ability to flirt. She'd never been 'a flirt' per se, but she could throw around hair tosses and sly winks when needed. Which ironically, was not that often, but then suddenly, January of 6th year, Lily completely lost her wits around the opposite sex.

Not universally. Sirius could still be spotted slinking away, tail between his legs after a particularly vivacious tete-a-tete. Lily and Remus often spent their hours patrolling with bellies sore from laughter.

But throw Lily in a room with James Potter, and suddenly her retorts dry on her tongue. Her quirked brows stutter and droop into a confused scowl. Her cheeky grins become simple half grimaces.

And then James makes a face like a confused puppy and her stomach does somersaults. It's all quite discomfiting and reminiscent of her most recent foray into the loo at Frannie's.

"Alright, Evans?"

Lily clears her throat, though her irritation still has her response sounding more like a growl than anything. "Sure."

James ruffles his hair and drops his gaze. "So, Remus told me about the whole milk thing."

Lily's mind blanks for a moment at that, as she wonders whether Remus really hates her enough to tell tales about her summer of vomit. But she manages to recover somewhat. "Er - yeah?"

Somewhat.

"Well. I know how much you love shortbread."

Something of that usual spark reignites. "Do you?"

A blush rises on his cheeks as he shoves his glasses up in an uncharacteristically clumsy gesture. "You know Evans, normally when someone does something kind the recipient doesn't tease mercilessly."

"We've never been usual, eh Potter?" Lily asks with a grin.

A grin that quickly falters when James brings a tin from behind his back. "Well I figured they can be done without dairy so I tried it out - might be shit but it's worth a try right?"

She breathes out his name in a whisper.

He's still orating, outlining the process of trial and error over Christmas hols with his mother, when she just can't take it anymore, allergies to James Potter be damned.

It doesn't take much to close the distance between them, to press her lips to his, to feel his flailing hand wrap around her waist while the other begins to release the biscuit tin.

Lily pulls away with a gasp. "Oh no you don't - can't toss that about. Precious cargo."

"Biscuits get me a snog," James muses, as Lily grabs the tin in both hands, "That's a rewards system I can get behind."

"Well I haven't tried them yet - wait around and see what happens if they aren't shit."