A/N: Title from 'Flightless Bird, American Mouth' by Iron & Wine.

For Jilytober Fest 2022, Prompt 6: "Why do you have two ice cream scoops but not any food?"

I did not intend for it to get as intense or end up the way it did, but sometimes that's the best part about writing :)


Hair clung to Lily's face, and she wiped it away with a sweat-slicked palm. The sun beat fiercely overhead, and the day spread beneath it threatened to become unbearable. Theoretically, the idea was perfect; businesses set up stalls and got more customers, the travelling troupes had more patrons in a weekend than they might in a year otherwise, and now all the papers sung the Ministry's praises; weren't they cheering people up, weren't they shining a light on these dark days, weren't they doing such a kindness to the community? All you had to do was throw your gold at overpriced games and trinkets and pretend not to see the Aurors pacing the perimeters, sternly whispering orders to the pale-faced, white-knuckled Magical Law Enforcement officers present to back them up.

"I'm going to die," Marlene said, handing her a pair of cheap, fluorescent orange sunglasses they'd won summoning quaffles through hoops. Lily shoved them on, and they shielded her from the light a little; now she didn't have to squint so much. They trudged through the grass, which under the feet of so many was starting to turn into a dirt pit. Owls soared overhead, carrying messages from one stall to another, and Lily hauled Marlene to one side to prevent her getting shat on. They stumbled on top of a group of snotty thirteen-year-olds.

"Watch it!" one girl said hotly, taking a fierce lick of her candy floss before storming off, posse in tow. Lily and Marlene exchanged looks, Marlene's lips quirking. Lily managed a shallow imitation; her heart was racing much too fast for anything more.

The once-open field quickly took on the qualities of a swamp. Lily surreptitiously cast the Sweet-Smelling Charm over herself as her shirt clung to her body. She was one of few in muggle attire; it seemed to be common sense these days not to single yourself out as having a muggle affiliation. Lily was sick of being common. They rounded the end of the line for the Ferris wheel – which, in the wizarding world, apparently had no need for a proper structure – the carriages just levitated in the air, following patterns inset by runes on the earth below and the carriages themselves, and they moved much quicker than muggle ones did. Lily liked and trusted magic, but she wasn't sure if she could get around hovering in the air with nothing else supporting you. It was almost as weird as brooms. And the carriages had Anti-Apparition wards on them to prevent people jumping the queue, so if you went tumbling, there was no getting away. James was desperate to get her on one, but Lily valued her life, actually, and intended on living past nineteen.

James. She and Marlene started up a slope towards the food vendors, an urgency powering her steps. Brightly-coloured flags flapped in a magical wind; Lily knew it was a charm, because when she lifted her hand with the hope of cool breeze and some relief, she found nothing but sticky heat. Wonderful. She craned her neck, looking for familiar faces, but none came – none that she wanted to see, anyways. Older Slytherins who'd glared at her at school weren't exactly desirable. Where the hell was her boyfriend? It wasn't meant to be a difficulttask. Lengthy, maybe, but not difficult. She didn't like him being gone so long; she didn't like it at all, and if it was deliberate, if he was just fucking around -

"We're never sending the boys for food again," Lily grumbled, grabbing Marlene's hands as not to lose her in the throng. They wove through the crowd towards the rare shade of a large tree, whose shadows were peppered with sunburnt fair-goers. Its ground rose a little higher than the rest of the food pavilion, so it made for good surveying. They should've stood out; three tall and one short, one of them scarred, one with a mosaic of tattoos and one with messy dark hair, glasses, and a smile like a desert oasis. Where was he? It was getting harder to breathe. The queues curled around themselves as they awaited pumpkin pasties, enchanted plates of toad-in-the-hole, sausages-on-wands and jam doughnuts and kebabs and churros. Lily's stomach growled and Marlene snorted; Lily whacked her arm.

"I'm dying for a kebab too," Marlene said, looking longingly after the busy stall and its thirty-foot line.

"We should be getting some," Lily said, scanning the many people in the queue. Why did none of them look like who they were supposed to? "God, where are they?" She put a hand over the wand tucked in her pocket. "They did say if we got lost, we could shoot up purple sparks to find one another." Marlene raised her eyebrows. Lily frowned. "What?"

"Lils, everyone and their crup will be doing something like that," she pointed out. Lily ran her fingers through her frizzing hair. They should've made a bloody map of the fair. I'm going to murder them. The word murder clawed at her throat; her eyes flicked to the MLEs, easily seen in their bright cloaks. Only one looked twitchy; the others mostly bored. Two played cards.

"Screw it," she said. "I'm going for the shortest line. They'll eat whatever they've got before they bring it back anyway. Coming?" Now Marlene's stomach growled.

"Fuck, yes," she groaned. They linked arms and hurried back down the hill, heading for the sausages-on-wands queue. Fifteen people ahead, an elderly wizard giggled as a grumpy man with a thick grey moustache shoved a sausage onto the tip of his wand. Lily winced. Marlene grimaced. "Do you think they still work properly after that?" she whispered. Lily pulled a face.

"Well…" No, honestly. "Maybe we just get him to put the sausage directly into our mouths. Save our wands."

"I was only gone for half an hour!"

James dropped an arm over her shoulder and squeezed her into a hug. Lily went bright red, but her body sagged with relief. Marlene laughed. James smiled down at her, teeth sparkling white, upper lip crusted with something orange. He leaned down to kiss her and she stopped him with a single finger, wiping off his top lip. He wrapped his other arm across her stomach and pulled her backwards out of the line. Lily stumbled blindly back with him, grinning broadly.

"What's this?" she asked, showing him her stained finger. His eyes twinkled mischievously.

"I'm meant to be the blind one," he said, lifting his hands towards her face. She goggled at what they held.

"Why do you have two ice cream scoops but not any food?!" she demanded. James kissed her cheek, and she nudged him away playfully with her shoulder. Marlene gagged.

"Why are you eating some other bloke's sausages?" he replied, resting his chin on top of her head. His body was warm against hers, and slicked with sweat, but she could hardly mind the suffocation. Instead, she grabbed the cone of strawberry ice cream, which was beginning to drip onto her fingers, and licked.

"Your mind is filthy," she informed him. James chuckled, breath hot against her scalp. His newly-free hand splayed across her stomach, pulling her closer. Lily took the opportunity to steal a mouthful of his ice cream.

"Oi," James said.

"Oi back." Lily wiped her sticky fingers on his robes. "You're starving us."

"And you're both making me sick," Marlene chipped in. "And hungry." She looked James up and down. "I think I'll start with your nose, Potter."

"Just be careful," James said. "The abs have a bit of crunch." He flexed against Lily's back and she laughed so hard ice cream splattered down her front. If you had told sixteen-year-old Lily she'd be laughing at James Potter making her spill food on one of her favourite shirts, she would've thought you'd been hexed. But he was undeniable. He made her insensible. And she didn't mind one bit. She held both ice creams as he ferreted his wand out and cleaned her up, and by that point, two more familiar faces marched across the grass.

"Thank Merlin," Marlene said, rushing forward to take the chocolate ice cream from Sirius' hand. As she lunged, Sirius hoisted it into the air. How he wasn't dying of heat exhaustion, Lily didn't know, for he wore a heavy leather cloak with bulky boots and thick robes. He didn't even have a reason for it. At least Remus, who followed him in brown, needed his arms covered up. Sirius was just doing it because he liked the way it looked.

"Fuck off, that's Moony's," Sirius barked, darting around Marlene.

"I hate you!" she shouted, running for Remus, who smiled and held out chocolate-chip for her. Marlene moaned in ecstasy, to the point that James and Lily exchanged looks (as best they could, intertwined as they were) and Sirius raised his eyebrows significantly.

"If you ever stop being gay," Marlene said, beginning to smash the ice cream down. Remus smiled mildly.

"And if you ever stop being a lesbian," he said. Sirius glowered, stepping between the two.

"Back off, McKinnon," he said, giving Remus his ice cream. Lily frowned, teeth skimming over her bottom lip.

"Hang on," she said. "If that's Remus' ice cream, then what's the -?" It dawned on her. "Where's Peter?"

"Here!"

Peter bumbled up the hill with two wicker baskets and a very red face. Lily smelt the food at once, and she broke free from James, shoving the ice creams into his hands, to descend upon the last of the boys. Marlene joined her. Peter barely stopped when they wrenched the baskets from his hands and rummaged desperately for real, proper food. Peter was a miracle; Peter was a god. He brought with him pumpkin pasties, sandwiches, doughnuts, kebabs, churros, mince pies, thick burgers, and hot chips doused liberally in salt.

"How did he get all of this in the time you three got ice cream?" Lily asked, glaring accusingly at James, Sirius, and Remus. Peter beamed proudly.

"I'm very sneaky," he said. "I think they need to check for a rat problem." Marlene looked puzzled, but Lily's mouth dropped open.

"You didn't -"

"I left money!" Peter squeaked. "I'm not a thief!"

"I wouldn't care if you were," said Sirius, eyeing the burgers.

They traipsed along until they found a big enough space for a picnic blanket, and they sat down upon the blue-and-white flannel. Peter set out the food while Lily leaned against James, Sirius rested his head in Remus' lap, and Marlene snatched Sirius' ice cream as he was too busy waxing poetic about his boyfriend to eat. It was nice; for once, they felt like proper teenagers, eighteen and nineteen, having a normal day out. Lily focused on the steady beat of James' heart against her ear, and the pulse in the fingertips that curled against her palms. They were real. They were real, and sweating, and pink from the sun, and thirsty and ravenous with ice cream freezing their throats and their brains. They spread out the hot chips in the thin grey paper wrappings and took their selection of burgers and grease and other things designed to catch up with them in their forties, when they had proper jobs and kids and lined foreheads. Lily watched an Auror who stood between the candy floss and the kebab stand, holding his wand in two hands, wringing it like a dishcloth. Six feet beyond him shimmered a very faint ward, one Lily wouldn't've recognised a year ago.

"Lily," James murmured, bending his head so that only she could hear. She leaned against him harder, her legs stretched across his.

"Mm?" she said. The Auror started pacing. James tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and she broke away to look at him.

"Are you alright?" he asked, brown eyes serious. She shook herself.

"Yeah. Yes. I'm alright." She smiled at him. "I'm having a good time."

He squeezed her hand. "You just look…"

"What?"

"Pensive."

"Pensive?" She scrunched up her face. "Did you grab a book instead of a burger?" He traced a heart on her cheek.

"Lily," he said, voice like buttermilk. She shook her head.

"I'm having a good day," she promised, kissing him softly. "So long as you don't get me on that Ferris wheel."

"Are you kidding?"

When Lily looked back, the Auror was gone.


Marlene, Peter, Remus, and Sirius cracked into thin air, and James and Lily ducked through the protective enchantments and up the path to their house. Technically, it was James', not hers, but her bedroom in Cokeworth had been abandoned for well over six months. The curtains were drawn across the windows, and the light above the door was off. His parents must've been at the cottage in town again. They spent more time there than they did at the house, murmuring something about wanting to give James space, and that they didn't need all the room. James had explained that the cottage was where they had lived as newlyweds. Now that James' dad was so ill…and it was easier to clean, being so much smaller. So Lily and James got the big house. She looked over her shoulder at the dark laneway beyond, lined by trees and without streetlamps. To muggles it looked derelict, and they stayed far away from the big old manor. They said it was haunted. James had gleefully told Lily it was all her moaning that made them think that, and she'd refused to let him have a brownie until he apologised.

She flinched.

"Lily?" James said, stopping before the steps. She steadied her breath, wand trained on the uneven road. A crescent moon peeked through the tallest trees, casting shadows.

"It's only the wind," she said softly, taking his hand. They crept to the door and James started on the complicated unlocking spells. Their house was as enchanted as Gringotts these days. Lily watched the trees, heart racing; it always did a little, no matter how many times she'd done this. She was always sure this time would be it. The gate would swing open, and – that would be it. The forest sighed in the cool, relieving breeze of night. The air hummed with ambient magic and summer; it wasn't sticky now, but it remained thick, all-encompassing. The stars stared at her. Watchers in the night. Their gazes made her uneasy.

The lock finally clicked. She and James went inside, and Lily set to turning on the lights while James locked the house back up again. She went to the kitchen – lovely, historical, with stained-glass windows and brand new appliances, the best charms galleons could buy – and poured them each a drink. She met James upstairs, in their overlarge bedroom, sitting on the plush ottoman at the end of their bed, shoes kicked off. James ran his fingers through his hair and took the drink.

"I'm exhausted," he said, sipping. "I might have a shower and turn in."

"That sounds good to me," said Lily, laying her head on his shoulder.

They finished their drinks and headed to the ensuite, which was the size, really, of a small house. She unlaced his robes and he unbuttoned her jeans, tugging them down by the belt loops. The shower had two heads; James liked his cold, Lily liked hers hot, and after a month or so, the novelty of sharing the same stream of water wore off. James turned the taps on his end (cool; shea butter soap; rain) and ducked into the water. Lily followed him. A handful of liquid soap pooled in his hand and he turned to face her. She ran her fingers along a jagged scar from February, white but raised, a product of dark magic. James massaged the soap into her shoulders and along her collarbone before cupping her face, gently touching his thumb to her lower lip. She opened her mouth and took it in, looking into his eyes.

"Lily," he murmured, moving his other hand to pull the band from her hair. It tumbled across her shoulders, still heavy with sweat and hot air, and it felt like scratchy wool on her bare skin. "What's wrong?" He took his thumb from her mouth. Lily wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, needing to feel his bare skin against hers, needing to feel the rise and fall of his body as he took in air.

"Do you ever feel," she mumbled, chin flat against his chest, "like we're only ever an hour from something bad happening?" He sighed; she felt it in the marrow of her bones. He pressed his forehead against hers, his hands holding her in the space between her shoulder blades. If we could stay like this, she thought. If we could stay.

"Every day," he admitted, as the water poured over them. Lily held him tighter, as if by the strength of her arms she could save him from the world, save them both.

"I thought you were dead," Lily confessed hoarsely. "Today. We were meant to be having fun and I thought you had been killed." She squeezed her eyes shut, tears threatening to fall over, and, goddammit, she wouldn't cry, she wouldn't. "I feel like every time I can't see you something terrible is going to happen. Every night when we go to bed I close my eyes and I wonder if it's the last time I'll ever see you."

"Lily." James' voice broke. Lily buried herself in him, clinging to his shoulders. He ran his fingers through her matted hair, and she made a noise of protest, but he silenced her. "I don't care. Mine's worse." She gave a weak, muffled laugh and pulled back enough to see his face. His eyes glistened in the grey light. "But you don't have to worry. It won't ever be the last time you see me. I promise you that."

"You can't promise," she said. "None of us can."

"I can," he countered. "It won't be. You're not getting rid of me. Even if – if whoever comes and murders me in my sleep -" and he said it so nonchalantly she might've laughed, but she was crying, now, properly crying, "- I'll come back to you. I've got unfinished business, after all, I'll have to come back. I haven't married you yet."

Lily froze. James did too. They stared at each other.

"James?" she breathed, almost strangled. James blinked at her. Rivers of water ran over his skin and skimmed across hers, as light as moth wings, as light as her head.

"Shit," he said softly. He dragged his thumb across her back. "There is a ring." He hesitated. "I meant to do it properly." Blood rushed through her ears. He – James –

Lily burst into tears.

"Shit," James said again, stepping back from her, but she clung to him for dear life. "We don't have to. We don't have to. I'm sorry – honestly, don't worry about it, I was just- "

"Please," she said, stilling him with her fingers on his jaw. James swallowed. She watched the bob of his Adam's apple. His brown eyes were round and full, his hair was wet and droplets ran from the ends and spotted her cheeks. His lips parted, perhaps in surprise, and she wanted him. She wanted him forever. "James," she said, barely whispering. The tears stemmed. He grabbed her other hand urgently and pressed hard, their veins pulsing as one. "Please marry me." He rasped, his body flat against hers.

"Yes," he said. "Yes. Yes." She pulled his face down to hers, until their noses touched, until she could feel the heat of his lips. "Yes," he whispered.

"Yes," Lily said, trembling. "Yes."