Pick Pocket Pixies
by Breninblack
Summary: Lily Evans is the lead singer of Hogwart's hottest band, The Pick Pocket Pixies. After playing a show, she is confronted by the last person she wants to see and confusion ensues. LE/JP. Rating: PG-13/R for language and implied slash.
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Lily Evans wails into the microphone. She sings with the fervor and vivacity of the sun, and shoots around the stage like Halley's comet. Behind her are three other girls - Leslie Prichett on a Fender Stratocaster; Eliza Blue on a bass of her own invention; and Caprice de Lune on a mish-mash of drums. They rock and they roll long into the night in a small club in the wizarding town of Hogsmeade. They rock and they roll like they have been doing it for decades, fitting together seamlessly to creat brilliant chick-driven power punk unlike anything the students of the local school have ever heard. They call themselves the Pick Pocket Pixies.
'You've got the emotional maturity/of a Cornish pixie/which makes why I love you/a little bit tricky,' Lily bites out, swaying with the music, fueled by the lively energy of the crowd. This marks their 10th performance as the Pick Pocket Pixies and they were determined to make tonight be their best show if it was the last one they did. The crowd is the biggest one yet - by the looks of it, at least 100 - and they are devouring the music like they were smack addicts looking for more scag.
Glancing out over the crowd, Lily spots the four Marauders: Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black and his best friend, James Potter.
Make that the insufferable James Potter, Lily thinks. He was the biggest jerk off she'd ever had the displeasure of meeting and his arsehole friends weren't any better. Be that as it may, James had still come to every one of the Pick Pocket Pixie shows and enthusiastically rocked out each time.
Caprice hits the cymbals, signaling the end of the song. The crowd of students erupts into cheers and applause, their way of begging for more. Roger, their light and sound guy, dims the lights, yet the crowd continues to cheer. The girls leave the stage to rehydrate themselves and then quickly return for their encore.
Caprice hits the drums and a rhythm catches. Contagiously, it makes its way through Eliza to Leslie and finally to Lily. A softer song than their last, Lily does not have to fight herself to get the words out:
'There's something about her/that you can't quite place/A stroke of wilderness/that hides in her face.'
The song dies away softly and the crowd is left swaying their illuminated wands in the silence. The band quietly slips off the stage and it is a full two minutes before the crowd erupts once again into a round of applause that makes the ground tremble.
When the gathering has dispersed, the four girls mingle into the crowd, buying drinks for their girlfriends or their boyfriends and enjoying the adrenaline rush from playing a cosmic show.
The star of the show must fend off her many admirers in order to move a foot. She leaves the club for the lonely night streets where she can brood in her own thoughts.
The gravel crunches underneath her feet and she soon becomes aware of another gravel-cruncher behind her.
'I'm done with autographs for the night,' she says. She doesn't even bother turning around because she knows it's just some starry eyed groupie trying to grab a moment alone with her.
'Actually,' the person says, 'I wasn't looking for an autograph.'
Lily turns around to see James Potter standing 10 feet behind her in the moonlight.
'What do you want?'
James slowly crosses the distance between them. 'Are you always this bitter?' he asks with a smirk.
'Are you always this cocky?' she retorts.
'Generally speaking, yes. But for you, I'm making a special effort.'
'Oh, great. Remind me to thank you after I kick your sorry arse.'
'Why so volatile? It only suits you on stage.'
'I don't know. Maybe because I'm talking to the school's biggest jerkoff.'
James clicks his tongue. 'It isn't nice to call people names.'
Lily sneers at him. 'You're one to talk, Mr. I'm-so-insecure-about-the-size-of-my-dick-I-have-to-torture-everyone-else.'
James clutches at his heart and staggers back in mock wounding. 'Oh! That one hurt!'
Lily tries her hardest not to smile, even though she finds him rather amusing, but she can't, so she bends her head to keep it from showing.
'Oh, oh, wait a minute! What is that I see? Could it be? A smile from the queen of disdain herself? A smile for a lowly peasant boy like me?' James steps forward and lifts her chin. There is no way to hide her smile now.
'Ah. It is, it is,' James whispers. 'And such a radiant one it is .'
Lily bites her lip out of nervousness. This is not supposed to happen. She is not supposed to talk to James Potter. She is not supposed to smile for him. And most of all, she is not supposed to feel a spark when he touches her. This was not how things are supposed to go.
Lily quickly breaks away and walks hurriedly down the street. James follows her, determined.
'Why are you running?' he asks simply.
Lily does not answer because even she's not sure.
'Lily...don't run. There's a world beneath these fireworks that's waiting to be explored! Don't forgo that opportunity without even tasting the sweet fruits it offers you.'
Lily turns around and glares at him. 'You can talk the talk, but you can't walk the walk. You wouldn't know where to begin with me.'
'But I think you'd know where to begin with me.'
Lily can't take it. This coy forwardness is not what she had expected of James Potter. Curiosity is threatening to kill her on this quiet October night and she isn't ready to go just yet.
Catlike, she pounces forward, claws out, and kisses James Potter like her life depends on it.
When they finally break away, they are gasping, not so much from the lack of air as the pure surprise of their jolting electricity.
Lily furrows her brow. 'Don't think this means anything,' she warns.
'Do you want it to mean something?' James asks, holding her.
'Yes. No. No, I don't.'
'It doesn't matter. This doesn't have to mean anything or it can mean everything. The choice is yours.'
For the first time in her young life, Lily isn't sure what she wants. But there is something indistinguishable stirring inside of her that makes her think that it's already out of her hands.
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A/N: I hope you enjoyed the story! It comes as a result of my enthusiasm for chick-rock. Please review!