Friendly, always relevant reminder: discrimination, hate speech, and bullying in the real world will never be accepted by me on any platform. Thank you :)

askenadanme: I do what I can ;) Guest: Mmm, yes he will. And Lily will find him delicious :D cscs01: YES, predator and prey for SURE! Hoping it keeps delivering! ^.^ chikotella: I miss those other stories too. I hope they come back, fingers crossed! peekaboo: Hey hey hey ;) I mean, not to brag, but I pick the best songs, hahaha. As of right now, I have a scene planned where we see Lily while James is unconscious, but we won't get her thoughts, only see what she says then O:) Jess: Jess! Hey! Welcome :D Thank you! elmack: No, but I love to hear it! Hahahaha. Let us bring on the drool! (In waves. My bad. Ha, Lily's dragging this shit out, getting James addicted) And aw! That is such a compliment! I really did love Dark James too 3 That boy has my heart, lol, but writing him like this is equally hot for me... gah. James. He can never be wrong ;p skyexdaisy: Hear hear! nibarna: I mean, why not root for both equally? ^.^ Terylee: Hi! Sweet, baby James is trying so hard :'( Yeah, I liked making Lily warn James exactly of his canon death. Yes, yes yes! It won't take much more to make him fall now. (In both timelines...) LOL to the wand. Ain't that the truth?

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter. This author knows Lily is not a good person here, she hopes you know she is not a good person here, this story is not condoning bad behavior, just exploring it, if you are uncomfortable you can always stop reading, I won't mind :) Art work by the super talented windbyfire (insta)


Animals ~ Maroon 5

7th Year

James no longer knew how to act around Evans. Sure, he was predominantly still fuming at her for the way she'd sabotaged his relationship with Susan, but then she'd gone ahead and stolen the air right out of his sails when she'd needed his help, tapping into his knight in shining armor complex. Was he allowed to still hate her after he'd helped her out like that? Well, you still hate Snape after you saved his life, so I don't see why the ruddy hell not. But honestly, everyone knew that Lily was no Snape.

James' relationship with her was… more complicated than that.

So how was he supposed to talk to her now? Was the public loathing and trading of insults and curses back on? Or did he have to treat her a little more respectfully since he was now aware that there were other Gryffindors in the castle who seemed to be actively trying to murder her? Or do I acknowledge the fact that we both know that we are both super sexually attracted to each other and that I would do anything to confirm that her lips do indeed taste like candy?

"I just don't get why we're pranking a fellow Gryffindor, that's all," Sirius complained, drawing James out of his lunchtime musings. "Especially with one this," he picked up James' prank proposal sitting on the table between them with raised eyebrows, "brutal."

"McLaggen's a git. Trust me, he deserves it. One second," he said over his shoulder distractedly as he hurried off, finally having located his target as she marched into the Great Hall. "Evans!"

She turned to the sound of his voice, eyeing him skeptically.

"What the hell does he want?" Bellatrix growled like a guard dog by her side. What is it with the Black family and doing that? James made a mental note not to alert Sirius of the comparison he'd just made between him and his deranged cousin in his head.

James ignored her and addressed Evans instead. "Legs are looking better."

Bellatrix did not like being ignored. "Ew. Is he hitting on you now?" she asked Evans, swinging her long black tresses over her shoulder. "Want me to curse off his bollocks? My father just taught me a new spell—"

"Nah, it's all right," Evans answered, her eyes never leaving James. He was starting to get a bad feeling about the whole situation. Why had he been so confident as to approach her here, when she had bloody backup? "Worried about my legs, Potter?" she asked coyly.

James fiddled with the end of his tie, telling himself this would be the last time that he ever acted on any impulse to be concerned for her wellbeing. "It was just a nasty bit of dark magic you had to recover from, is all."

Her smile doubled as she watched his fidgeting fingers move to play with the strap of his messenger bag, slung across his chest. James couldn't prove it, but he got the distinct impression that Evans would much prefer it if his fingers were playing with her instead. Her gaze became less curious and more predatory. "Nothing I couldn't handle."

Bellatrix cleared her throat, obviously also highly uncomfortable with whatever the hell was going on between the pair who had just made her into a third wheel. "Aren't you laying it on a little thick?" she muttered under her breath to her friend.

Evans laughed, eyes still boring into James' when she answered, "He's so undersexed that he's ready to blow, watch." She quickly popped open one of the straining top buttons of her blouse, letting him catch a glimpse of her red bra underneath.

Fuck. James felt his cheeks burning crimson as he forced his eyes away, ashamed at how quickly she had him completely wrapped around her finger. Was he truly this easy to manipulate? Was he really this pathetic? She'd just said her malicious plan out loud like he wasn't right there within earshot — and it had still worked. She had gorgeous breasts, and sure, James one thousand percent wanted to see them, but to be called out like this, in bloody public?! It was humiliating as shit. She was making him look as though he was some loser schoolboy who followed her around everywhere she went begging for her scraps. James was not like that, never had been like that, and never would be like that, especially for someone like her.

Wonderful, so back to full-on hatred it is, James thought as he turned on his heel and adjusted his book bag to cover the front of his trousers. He tried to drown out Bellatrix's cackling "Awww" and Evans' laughter as he left, but he still caught her yelling, "We have patrols tonight, Potter. Can't get out of them this time!"

This bitch. This bitch, bitch, bitch. It looked like she was fully aware of her level of power over him and was ready to milk it for all it was worth. James honestly wasn't sure how he was going to survive the coming year. Maybe she'd get bored of playing with him soon and cut him loose. What a relief that would be… right? James wouldn't miss her attention and cruel games at all, now would he?

James gulped a painful lump down his throat. Please never get bored of playing with me.


"Are you mad at me?" Evans asked him that night as they patrolled the halls on their shift. Her voice was silky and amused.

Of all the nights to be paired together, it had to be this one? James scoffed. The more he got to know Evans, the more he was starting to suspect that things that involved her in this castle were rarely ever coincidental. "What gave it away?" he bit back sarcastically, not slowing down his pace several meters out in front of her one bit.

"It was just a joke," she sang back. "Come on. Of anyone, I thought you'd be able to handle that—"

"No, no," he snapped, spinning around, pointing a finger at her. "You do not get to turn this around on me. What you did was fucked up, again—"

"Showing you some cleavage?" Evans jutted out her hip as she crossed her arms over her chest. Of course that action made her cleavage bounce into view over the edge of her blouse, of course it did.

"It's not just 'some cleavage,' Evans, and you know it." He closed his eyes. Damnit, that sounded like a compliment. I mean, it was true, but he hadn't meant it like that. He pushed his glasses up his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I thought we might have had a breakthrough Sunday night."

She uncrossed her arms and instead held her hands behind her back as she approached, tilting her head coquettishly. "Ooh, is that what this is about? You're mad that I'm not grateful enough to you for saving me?"

James wanted to throttle her. He raised both his hands in the air, balling them into fists that he so wished he could rattle her with. "No! I didn't say that!" Her smirk was so goddamn irritating. "You're fucking impossible," he growled.

She pushed back her hair. "Nah, I'm pretty sure I'm spot on actually." She took a step towards him and leisurely dragged a finger down the length of his tie, making James start and look down at its progress. It was all too easy to imagine her trailing her touch down other things like this. James repressed a shiver as his pupils dilated and his nostrils flared. "You did something nice, and now you think you're owed something nice in return, yaddy-yadda, nice guy bullshit."

James' eyes narrowed, bristled at her accusation. "Why are you so convinced that I'm like every other bloke you know?" he whispered, his voice oddly raspy.

Evans' eyes jumped to his and he saw a little bit of the surprise she was trying to mask shining through. She unexpectedly yanked his tie, causing James' neck to lurch forward within a few inches of her face. "You're saying you don't want anything from me, Potter?"

The way his body reacted to how her lips wrapped around his last name like that showed him that, no, he very much wasn't saying that. He was becoming more and more aware of just what he wanted from her — her body, her mouth, her tits, anything she was willing to share with him really — but just because he wanted something, didn't mean he had to take it. Especially if she was going to be such a bitch about it.

"That's exactly what I'm saying," James replied, enunciating every syllable as he snatched back his tie, straightening his spine. "Let's take it a step further actually: I'm saying I don't want anything to do with you."

He continued his stride down the hall, Evans chuckling as she trailed behind him. "Well, that's just hurtful." There was a long beat. "Or it would be, if it was even remotely true."

"It is true." James ground his teeth. Why does this woman have to have the confidence of a used broomstick dealer?

"Then why do you keep undressing me with your eyes?" He knew she was smirking behind him. Being a smirk aficionado himself, he was well aware what the expression did to one's voice. "You think you're all slick, but I know when you're doing it. Girls always know."

James grimaced, really wishing they would never have to speak of this again. She was brazenly talking about one of his deepest, darkest secrets as though he wouldn't just magic it away if he could. His interest, attraction, lust, whatever it was, was an affliction, plain and simple. A curse — and hopefully one he could cure himself of soon.

Just as James was pondering if he should ignore her in the hopes that she'd get the hint and go away, a little girl's scream sounded up ahead. James gave a worried glance at Evans before they both sprang into action, sprinting to the closet door where the bloodcurdling screech was emanating from.

James got to the door first, trying to wrench open the handle with all his might, but it wouldn't budge — and the screaming got louder and louder. "Hang on! We're coming in!"

"Move!" Evans bellowed two seconds before she yelled, "Alohomora!"

As James thudded to the ground with the sudden lack of resistance from the door he'd been attached to, his wand falling out of his pocket and rolling away, he realized he probably should have used magic instead of trying to brute strength the problem away.

Not one to linger on his shortcomings, James bounced right back up to his feet and charged blindly into the closet looking for the source of the haunted yells. A split second later, it was then Evans screaming as a chandelier swung at them from the ceiling, colliding with her outstretched wand hand as it careened into the hallway, attached to a single metal chain.

Peeves cackled at them, still swinging the chandelier around as though it was nothing more dangerous than a tiny little yoyo. "Nightie-nightie stewdy-wudies," he teased before the closet door slammed in their faces.

"No, no—" James yelled, but it was too late. He bashed the wooden door with a fist and immediately regretted it when the ancient thing didn't budge a centimeter. "Fuck! Evans, get us out of here!"

There was a beat before a defeated, "How?" came from her general vicinity. It was so dark in the closet that James couldn't even make out her outline yet.

"Alohomora, you just did it," James said obviously, as if he hadn't forgotten about the spell all but a minute prior.

"Yeah, just did it before the sodden poltergeist broke my wrist to take my wand away from me."

James was so horrified at the prospect of remaining trapped here with her, in this tiny little prison, that he didn't even stop to think about her injuries. He patted down his pockets, his horror multiplying when he realized that he still had the Marauder's Map after having used it all weekend to try to find Evans to reprimand her. Now look at you. Unable to get away from her. Karma was a fickle beast. Even worse than that, his two way mirror was in his robe pocket… which he wasn't wearing because it was still early in the school year and he didn't think he'd need it for what he had promised himself would be a quick patrol. And now it's going to be the longest one of your life.

James looked around, his eyes adjusting to the smallest sliver of light coming in from under the door. It looked as though they were locked in the world's most cramped broom cupboard, because of course they were. "Gotta say, Peeves' little girl scream has really gotten better since 1st year." His hands fumbled across the walls, his feet tripping on a bucket, as he looked for some sort of secret escape — he knew better than anyone that stranger things had been found at Hogwarts. Half a minute later, he was back where he started. "Fuck." Evans remaining perfectly, and unusually, silent reminded him of her wrist. "How bad is it?" he tossed out.

"It's fine."

She was clearly lying. As her shape grew more defined, he could see that she was clutching it to her chest. "You can quit acting tough, Evans. There's no one else around." When she didn't respond, he wished more than anything that he could see her face. Sure, she so rarely let anything of true substance on, but he could usually at least try to decipher her emotions. "Come here," he whispered as he reached for her hand.

Evans hissed as he inspected it through touch, oh so lightly moving her wrist as though she was one of his teammates at practice who had just battled with a Bludger. "You don't have to—"

"I'm pretty sure it's only sprained. Here, this will help—" James assessed as he lifted the bottom of his shirt to rip off a strip.

"What are you doing?" Evans asked incredulously as he fought with the fabric.

"Well, do you have any wrapping bandages readily accessible?" he sassed. Why is this shirt so friggin' well made? James gave up on trying to rip from where his buttons met and tugged on the bottom, finding a little tear that he could more easily exacerbate. "Aha!" he said triumphantly as the fabric gave way, tearing all the way up to his collar.

He could hear her smirk again. "I wasn't aware that playing strip poker would heal my wrist, Potter. But I'm sure this is a truly valiant effort."

"Shut up." Like she could even see his chest in the dark now that his shirt was fluttering open.

"Hey, I'm not complaining," she taunted some more. "It's just this is a fast turn around from 'I don't want anything from you for saving you—'" she put on a deep, more pleasant voice as she mimicked him, "—to 'look, I'm saving you again and coincidentally undressing at the same time.' What are the odds?"

James ignored her teasing as he pulled her hand closer to him once more, and instead focused on her imitation of him. "So you think my voice is that low, eh?" It felt nice to have her hand in his, even under the current circumstances. Her skin was so soft, although a little cold, with long thin fingers. She never seemed to wear any jewelry on her wrists or hands, seemingly only on her ears. James wondered why that was.

"You would focus on that."

"I always tend to focus on the flattery." James finished wrapping up her wrist as professionally as possible, proud he had distracted her enough through his award winning charm that she hadn't been in too much pain. "Better?" He felt a weird sort of loss when he let her hand go. It was insane, because it wasn't as though they'd actually been holding them-holding them in the first place.

"Yeah," she said curiously. Is she reluctant to pull her hand back too? James tried to brush off the crazy thought, but he was almost positive he could feel the electric current that had started sizzling in this Merlinforsaken closet. "How'd you learn that?"

James snorted, running an agitated hand through his hair — as if that would soothe the fire he'd felt scorch him with her touch. Remembering where they were turned out to be very bad for his frayed nerves. He looked back at the door, deciding another run into it with his shoulder wouldn't hurt. (It did.) "I was breaking bones before I got my wand, Evans," he panted before gearing up to give the door another bash. It was hard to get any momentum when he had no room to wind up.

"I can't believe some people had to wait until 11 to get their first wands."

James stopped assaulting the door to reply. "Wowww, subtle brag there, spoiled brat."

Evans didn't respond, but instead leaned her back against the nearest wall and allowed her body to slide down to the floor. For some reason, James was surprised by the action, assuming she'd think herself better than dirtying one of her beloved, scandalous skirts. It seemed like the Slytherin thing to do — be better than the very ground that everyone else walked on.

James tried to ignore her as he continued trying to open the door, but that didn't mean Evans returned the favor. "It won't work; give it a rest already."

"I don't like being trapped—" another bash of his shoulder, "—in tight spaces."

"Well, sit down and stretch your legs," Evans instructed. "It won't feel that small then."

James had no idea how she could be so cavalier right now. Didn't she realize they were doomed? The Marauders didn't know he had this patrol since it was so last minute, and they had no plans to hang out tonight. Which meant that they had no way of knowing he was missing, and didn't have the map to see him in a precarious position with an enemy. Plus, it wasn't like anyone would pass this stupid cupboard until morning to hear them scream, so they were utterly and truly trapped. "Easy for you to say, you aren't 6 foot 3." Some of his panic slipped into the words.

"Just go to bed then," Evans said simply, looking like she was settling in to do just that. "Or at least stop making all that racket so that I can."

"How are you so calm right now?" James asked, completely baffled. He didn't like freaking out, but it wasn't like he could stop himself. His phobia was real and present and felt positively dangerous. Was the space actually getting smaller?! "Aren't you raging mad at Peeves?" I mean, I am!

"Of course I am," Evans answered, not sounding like it one lick. "But I also know that I am trapped in a closet for the night. Which means that tonight, I will sleep, and with the energy I gather from that sleep, I will hunt that little cunt down tomorrow, and make him pay for what he's done."

Oh shit. So she was scary-scary. How she'd delivered her little pitch in a simple, monotone voice as though she was telling James the weather of this dusty (tiny) room was far more terrifying than if she'd shouted it. "In it for the long-haul strategy then, are you?"

Evans smiled, the twinkle in her eyes about all he could see. (Because they were enchanting or because it was so dark, James couldn't say.) "Precisely." Evans crossed one leg over the other before patting the filthy floor beside her. "Now sit."

"I'm not a dog, Evans," James insisted, even as he obeyed and sat down for lack of anything else to do. He hated to admit that she was right, but leaning against the wall and stretching out his legs to their full length, ignoring how close his feet got to the other side, did make him feel better.

Evans didn't say anything else, but she did lean her head against his shoulder, seemingly snuggling in for the night. How does she do it? James knew everything about him at school projected confidence and a I-do-what-I-like attitude, but everything about her said she actually just lived it. She didn't overthink leaning up against him, she just thought it would be the most comfortable position to sleep in, so she was sleeping in it, implications and ramifications of the action be damned. When Snape had gotten a little too familiar with her at a Halloween feast, James remembered she'd made his palms into superglue and he'd been fastened to the table with one hand while the other was stuck on his crotch for the rest of the meal. James had delighted in his nemesis' humiliation that night. She didn't care that the other girls whispered about her outfits, in fact he was pretty sure that the day after Julie had called her a slag for wearing those skirts in 5th year, she'd gone out and bought her chunky boots and a pair of fishnet stockings and hooked up with Julie's boyfriend. It was her own special way of serving karma — as if saying, 'Sure, you can talk shit, but you might regret it when I become the very monster you were claiming I already was.'

James hated to admit it, but he sort of wished he was more like Evans. He also hated to admit that he kind of wished that they could continue talking in this stupid closet now. She was confusing as hell and he really wanted to crack her.

"Are you cold?" he asked her a painfully long ten minutes later (maybe only five, but it felt like at least ten hours). There was a slight breeze seeping in through the bottom gap of the door and if James wasn't mistaken, it had Evans scooting closer and closer into his side.

"Aren't you?" she whispered back, her shoulders starting to shake.

Honestly, no, but James knew he ran hot. "Well, it's not like that skirt covers all that much."

James grimaced, thinking back to Evans calling him out for degrading her when it suited him, but luckily for him, it seemed like she was taking the barb in stride. "Judging my clothing now, are you?"

He snorted. "Hard not to." James was fully aware that such a statement could be interpreted one of two ways. He got the feeling that Evans knew exactly which way he actually meant. "Don't let it go to your head," he mumbled under his breath. He was fully aware that if this girl got any cockier, it wouldn't be good for anyone. But especially for him.

"That didn't go to my head." Her voice was soft and only half awake, and maybe that's why it took so long for James to register what she'd just implied, too busy liking this new kinda cuddly side to her that he got to experience. When he got her reference, it was far too late to respond. (But perhaps that was a blessing. James didn't know how he'd react if she started talking about sex more blatantly while he was trapped here with her — but probably not well.)

Time went on with James completely unable to fall asleep, mostly because Evans' shivers were only getting worse, and only partially because he still felt like an idiot for having missed her blatant innuendo. This is ridiculous, he finally told himself, reaching over to pull her easily onto his lap. She was cold and he was warm. The solution didn't have to be political when it was so glaringly obvious.

"What—?" she mumbled sleepily, even as her body relaxed against his bare chest.

"Just sleep, Evans," James whispered, highly cognizant of just how close his mouth already was to her ear as he wrapped his arms around her, warming her up. "Plot your revenge in the morning."

He heard her little huff of laughter as she let her head fall back against his collarbone, holding onto his forearms slung across her chest.

While James listened to her breathing deepen as she fell into unconsciousness, he allowed himself to ponder just how insane this scenario was. What am I doing? Why am I letting her get away with everything? Hell, why am I making her feel like any of what she does is okay? The way he'd just talked to her, the way he'd just made a joke about her personality, this little vindictive streak she had, like he not only noticed it, but approved of it had sent the wrong message. He'd felt the way her body had melted into his with his words, as though his acceptance of her had given her the permission she needed to feel at ease and fall asleep.

Why had he done that?

Of course he wanted her to feel safe — he wanted every girl in the world to feel safe. At the end of the day, she was a woman trapped in a small (much too small) room with a much larger enemy, and James wasn't ignorant enough to not realize how vulnerable the situation could make her feel. But… he still, stupidly, felt like he was in far more danger around her than she was with him. And sure, he was a people pleaser, but he knew that there was one particular person that he was really starting to want to please more than anybody else. If he didn't watch out, James could see himself completely falling under her spell, and becoming absolutely powerless before her.

Evans made a little sigh in her sleep, and James' thighs tautened around hers, more aware now than ever of their perilous positioning. Although she was mighty, she was also so incredibly dainty, wrapped there in his arms. It was so hard to get over the juxtaposition of so much power residing in a frame so petite. It felt nice to be able to protect her — even if it was from something as seemingly inconsequential as a chill.

Why are you like this? James didn't know what it was about Evans that just tapped so hard into his savior complex. It was getting so bad that even she was calling him out for it. She was wrong though. He really didn't expect anything in return for carrying her back to the dorm when her legs didn't work. He'd done that because it was the right thing to do. James squeezed his eyes shut, trying to calm down and not breath in the coconut scent of her hair or feel the way her breasts expanded in his arms with every breath she took. If he didn't know any better, he could have sworn that he'd taken another hit of her horniness potion. Just because he didn't expect anything… didn't mean he couldn't think about it though, right? Daydreaming about a girl he found attractive didn't make him a bad person… did it?

This was torture, pure and simple. He had no idea how she could be asleep right now, all blissfully peaceful, while her mere presence was wrecking havoc on James' entire soul. Sleep. Just go the fuck to sleep, he chanted in his head, over and over until he, mercifully, did just that.


James groggily woke up from the most wonderful dream. He'd been imagining sleeping with Evans in a bed in the middle of the Entrance Hall, not shagging (but decidedly not acting decently enough to be in public either), as students milled all around them, minding their own damn business. Obviously the scenario was completely surreal, but the normalcy that he'd felt, that he'd been hooking up with the girl he actually wanted to, and no one had batted an eye, had felt so comforting.

James kept his eyes closed, wanting to remain within the tantalizing dream — if only for one more moment — until he felt a hard grind against his lap. It felt so real — too real. His eyes snapped open to the dark shadow of red hair just below his nose, illuminated only by the faint glow of morning light streaming in through the crack beneath the door. The reality of being trapped in a closet with Evans sitting on top of him rushed back all at once.

James involuntarily groaned as Evans ground her hips again in a slow, torturous circle, her bum rubbing against his rock hard morning wood. Fuck… James thought, dropping his head back against the wall behind them. Either she was awake and already toying with him, first thing in the morning, or she was having just as good of a dream as he had just awoken from. James wasn't sure which scenario was hotter. He felt his cock twitch in agreement.

The movement made Evans moan quietly, definitely feeling him.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. So she was awake, and fully conscious of the absolute hell she was putting him through. Great. James' fingers clenched, his right hand still slung low across her stomach, but his left must have migrated down to her bare thigh in the middle of the night, which was still resting against the inside of his own. Her skirt, already far too short to begin with, had slid down to bunch at the edge of her panties. The flimsy material covered her even less when she started bending her knee, bringing one of her heels closer in towards her bum. James felt his breath escaping his mouth in hot and heavy bouts as he watched her body moving, as if in slow motion, over her shoulder, wanting nothing less than whatever sweet, sweet torment she was about to inflict upon him. She was so gorgeous, so fucking beautiful, and she was right here, pressed against him. What was he supposed to do?

"Morning…" Her voice was raspy with sleep, but her hips continued to twirl in a manner that seemed laser focused on destroying him. She coaxed another groan out of James as he slumped his head forward, his mouth now in the crook of her neck, seriously contemplating chomping down on her with his teeth.

James relished in the way her tender, velvety skin reacted to his breath, shivering slightly as her pulse, a subtle thudding vein right there in front of him, quickened. She liked this. She liked this a whole lot — maybe just as much as he did. Her wrapped hand came up to clutch at the base of his neck, pulling him in tighter against her. James had never obeyed someone else's physical command more quickly.

His eyes jumped back to Evans' thighs as she slowly started to spread them, reaching her free hand to his, pulling his fingers down to her exposed knickers. Fuck. She was making her intentions with him crystal clear, silently begging him to touch her. No, James internally corrected. Evans doesn't beg, she orders.

And who was James to disobey a direct order?

Sucking in a deep breath and giving her neck a quick, gentle kiss, James began to tentatively stroke the bright red fabric covering her cunt, enthralled and mesmorized as the sounds Evans made began to morph into something far deeper and more primal. Her upper half felt heavier against him as she pushed her shoulders back into his chest before arching her spine, turning her face into his cheek.

"Like this?" he asked, his caresses curious and unsure. He'd fingered a girl before, but the stakes had never felt higher. He didn't just want this girl to have a good time, he wanted her to have the best time — as unrealistic as that wish may be. He wanted to learn her body, study it, so that he could become the only maestro who'd ever really know how to play it.

"More," she breathed heavily, pushing his fingers down, guiding them to the edge of her panties. James hesitated only a second, brushing aside any silly intrusive thoughts, before he slid the fabric to the side, baring her fully to his touch.

She was wet. So fucking, deliciously wet for him.

"Lily," he groaned. It wasn't until she startled a little, pressing her lips briefly to his cheek, that he realized it may have been the first time he'd actually used her first name in front of her. And what a setting to do it in… James wondered what she'd say if she knew he'd been moaning her name in the privacy of his own bed for weeks now.

She rocked her hips, asking for his assistance more urgently than ever. "You can touch me now."

So he did. James moved his fingers, learning just what movements across her clit made her whimper the most, or distracted her so thoroughly that suddenly her hips would stutter, trying desperately to bring any part of him inside of her.

Inside of her. The thought, that simple concept, turned James' very world upside down. He wanted to be inside of her so fucking badly, his entire being ached. He buried his face into her neck and this time did bite her skin, wanting an anchor to weather the storm that was her insurmountable allure. His fingers were coated in her and his mind was possessed by the sounds, smell, and taste of her.

"James…" she whispered as he sank one finger into her cunt, his thumb still rubbing circles on her clit in the way he'd just discovered she liked best.

Fuck, if that wasn't the most arousing noise he'd ever heard her utter. Sure, it was his name, and he'd heard it all his life, but having her say it? Having her moan it while she began to unravel with his touch? He would be so very lucky to get to come to her saying it again and again.

That possibility became even more likely as she began rocking her hips into his finger, her bum rubbing up against him in a rhythmic motion. He had to get her off, and fast, so that he wouldn't embarrass himself by making a mess of his trousers. James slipped another finger into her as he kissed his way up the column of her throat, making Evans' nails dig into his scalp as she also pushed away his thumb, intent on rubbing her clit herself. Clearly, she didn't mind James' plan to finish her off as soon as possible in the slightest and was down to make it happen.

"Deeper," she instructed breathlessly, and James adjusted his fingers immediately, pumping into her as though his life depended on it.

"Like this?" he repeated in a tone both gruff and eager, pulling his face back to try to see hers.

"Yes, don't stop..." He would never dare. She was so close, her cheek pressed into his shoulder. The lighting was still dim, but even the outline of her expression was enough for him. He wanted to watch her; he wanted to see the pleasure that he could give to her unfold across her pretty features. He hungrily gawked as her eyebrows scrunched and her lips parted, her breathing becoming rough and sporadic as he felt her walls squeezing his fingers down below. "Yes," she whimpered as she screwed her eyes shut, shuddering gently in his arms.

You did it, James thought proudly, watching enthralled as Evans came around his fingers before fully sinking into a boneless mess against his chest, her own still heaving. Holy fucking shit. He didn't realize until his overwhelming feeling of pride hit that he'd been so very afraid of letting her down. She was so experienced, and so regal, that he'd been scared that he wouldn't measure up sexually. (For this realization to occur, he would have first had to admit that he was going to try to measure up sexually.) He slowly pulled his fingers out, unsure of what to do next.

Evans clearly felt none of his awkwardness, stretching her legs out like a cat in the sun, perfectly content and satiated. "Not bad, Potter. That was actually better than I expected."

Even her compliments had to be negging slights. James found that he hardly even minded though — her body hadn't been able to lie to him just now. As she came. Because of me.

Before James could throw a retort her way, the blasted locked door was suddenly swung wide open, bathing them in far more light than James was comfortable with. "What the—?" he spat out, throwing up a forearm to shield both of their eyes.

"Prongs, is that…?" Sirius' question trailed off as he took in the sight before him. James had to admit that it probably didn't look the best with Evans lying back against him and his shirt ripped right open.

"It's not what it looks like," James asserted, he thought kind of truthfully since Padfoot would probably assume that they had just banged the night away. As if I'd lose my virginity in a Merlindamn broom cupboard.

"Oh yeah?" Sirius asked doubtfully, watching as Lily stood up and brushed off her skirt. James was so unbelievably grateful that his friend was temporarily distracted so that he could at least try to hide his raging erection.

"James and I just woke up, perfect timing," Evans sang nonchalantly.

"James?" Sirius' eyes nearly bugged out of his skull as he looked back to him as he quickly hopped to his feet. "You call him James now?"

James decided a switch in focus was very much needed. "Wait, how did you find us?"

Sirius scoffed. "Peeves was still bragging about it on my way to breakfast. Plus these two wands just laying about in the middle of the hallway were a dead giveaway." He raised the two wands in question. "But not the point." He made a vague gesture towards both of them. "What the fuck?"

No, no, no, this was not how James wanted this to go. Hell, he didn't want any of this to go at all. He wanted to forget the entire incident had ever occurred and just move on with his life. Evans had just caught him at a vulnerable moment was all. Everyone knew that you couldn't approach a bloke while he was still recovering from a dream — all defenseless and doped up on dopamine and hope. He had dreamed about a happy ending, Evans had actually gotten one — and sounded so hot while it was happening and… fuck, don't think about it again!

"I thought Peeves told you all about it," Evans snapped annoyed, trying to snatch her wand out of Sirius' grasp, but he only moved them behind his body. James secretly hoped her temper was a part of her coverup act. He'd like to think that he'd gotten her into a better mood than this.

"Not the part that explained why Prongs' shirt is open and you're sitting on his lap."

While James panicked, Evans was cool as a cucumber. "Because your best mate is a noble git and thought this was the best way to heal an injury—" she held up her sprained wrist, "—and keep me from freezing to death." James supposed she was technically telling the truth, just not all of it. This time when Lily snatched for her wand, she was able to nab it.

"Come on, Pads, let's just go—" James tried, but Sirius was still staring at Evans unrelentingly as though seeing her clearly for the first time.

"You go clean up, Prongs," Sirius said distracted. "Evans and I here have some things we need to discuss."

Under normal circumstances, James might have protested and insisted they leave this horridly awkward situation together. But as it were, his shirt was fully open, his dick was still hard, and the halls were probably about five minutes away from being flooded with a throng of students. He needed to get to his dormitory, and fast.

Accepting his wand from Sirius, James fled the scene of the crime, looking back to see his best mate begin to yell at Evans who had calmly crossed her arms and was staring at him as though bored. What the fuck are they talking about?


Next Chapter: idfc ~ blackbear