Yay! Thanks for all the love, guys ^.^ My fiancé tried convincing me to stick to a more reasonable updating schedule, but - HE'S NOT THE BOSS OF ME! - I'm just too blown away by all of you, I can't help myself. Birthday shoutouts to GirlGhostly and PBread!

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter. Art work by the super talented blvnk-art (tumblr) aka potterbyblvnk (insta)

Song: Easier by Mansionair

The Game

"Can I help you?" Potter drawled, the question taking Lily by surprise almost as much as his sudden appearance behind her in the Head office that night had. He really was extraordinarily good at sneaking around.

Remus' voice rang out between her ears. Her bestie had not been impressed when she'd relayed how Potions class had gone with Potter. He'd harped on about what a 'missed opportunity' it had been, and how Potter had 'practically delivered himself onto your lap' (Lily had tried to hide her shudder at those words), and he didn't know if she realized this, but two weeks wasn't really a long time. No one could give a guilt-ridden lecture quite as well as Remus could. So, Lily swallowed her pride and steeled her resolve to try harder. Maybe be nicer to him. Say something neutral to get the conversation flowing.

She turned to Potter as she continued laying out the patrol schedules for the prefects' imminent arrival. "Got it, thanks." She was sure warmth — or at least a lack of pure venom — in her tone would come to her eventually.

"I didn't mean with papers, Evans." He grinned wickedly as he perched up on the corner of the desk looking like he owned the place. "I meant with whatever's had you staring at me all day." He bent and propped up one of his legs onto a chair, never breaking his gaze from her. Suddenly Lily felt absolutely naked, and she hated every second of it.

Lily had carefully curated her image over the past six years to the point of perfection. She knew it hadn't been accurate, but learning about her magical abilities a full decade later than her peers had made her feel as though she was always going to be at an extreme disadvantage. She pushed herself harder, studied longer, just generally did more than anyone else. Hell, she even physically trained more than probably anyone who wasn't playing on a Quidditch team did, but she knew that was mostly to feel safe (and, yes, for the coregasms). It was a cruel twist of fate to find out you belonged to another world almost in the same breath that you were told that in that world, most people already hated you.

Lily had noticed that at the beginning of her time at Hogwarts — her first coed school — many boys had checked her out. It had been an unexpected, but rather welcome surprise to realize that she must be pretty. Petunia had told her how freakish and abnormal she was so often, that she'd started to believe it. But as the years went on, and anti-Muggle-born sentiment intensified, the longing stares had dwindled and been replaced by hurried, pitying glances — as though she were a dead woman walking. The only, ironically infuriating, exception to this had been Potter.

Potter had continued to openly ogle her — but it had gone from adorably dazed to cold, calculated stares from across the room. Another strange thing about Potter was that he didn't stop looking after he'd been caught like a normal person would. It was like he thought it was his Merlin-given right to look at her as much as he pleased. She learnt to ignore it. But everywhere she went, she still felt a pair of hazel eyes watching her every move. It pissed her off to no end that one look from him could make her feel so exposed though. It was as though he saw right through her — saw past the facade of the perfect girl she pretended to be. It was a projection she kept up because she knew that she was not only representing herself, but also every other Muggle-born that would come after her that had already been deemed unworthy (by people like him)! And yeah, her reputation normally functioned like a shield, keeping people at bay.

The look he was giving her now made her absolutely certain that she would be pushing herself even harder on her usual 6 am run tomorrow. "I haven't been staring at you today, Potter, don't be ridiculous," she snapped, finishing her distribution.

"If you say so," Potter responded, sounding bored already. She hated that she noticed his dismissive tone, and honestly, that his rejection kind of burned. It turned out she could absolutely loathe the 'cool kid' while at the same time, deep down in her psyche, still crave just an ounce of his approval.

Suck it up, suck it up, suck it up. She needed to get Potter alone for more than a few minutes to get him talking. One of the best ways she could think to do that would be by stroking his ego. His freakishly large, prat ego. "Actually," she turned back to him, not even having to fake her modesty, "I wanted to ask you something."

He stood up and casually strolled over, his eyes alive with amusement. "Yes?"

She couldn't believe she was being reduced to doing this. "Do you ever give tutoring?" She was looking at her shoes, in no way able to stomach seeing how happy he looked at her groveling. "I've been having a hard time with—"

"Nonverbal magic," he finished for her without a lick of uncertainty.

What? She was about to say Transfiguration, a blatant lie, but famously his best subject — much to the chagrin of the professor who taught it. It was so obvious where McGonagall's political leanings lay (no matter how deeply she tried to bury them for the sake of her job), so to see a boy who stood for the polar opposite of everything she did be the top of her class clearly irked her to no end. Lily had no idea it was common knowledge that she still (embarrassingly) struggled with nonverbal spells, often having to whisper them under her breath as she cast. It fooled most people, but clearly not him.

Obviously not Potter.

"Y-yes," she improvised on the spot, looking at him baffled. How did he know that?

"Sure," he said nonchalantly, taking another step closer to her, "I can help you with that."

Goosebumps erupted all over her flesh, and she wasn't quite sure why. Probably because he was now so damn (unnecessarily) close that she could physically feel his breath on her cheek. "Great," she managed to get out before she tore her eyes from his. "Great."

"Where would you like to do it?"

"Excuse me?" She felt the tips of her ears heating.

He smiled as she fidgeted. "Your lesson. Where would you like it?"

"Right." Lily bit her bottom lip, completely missing how her action drew his attention straight to it. She'd never feel safe in the Slytherin dorm, and she'd rather die than have her own common room see him helping her, but at the same time, she wasn't sure being completely alone with him was the best idea either. They were alone right now, if only for a short while, and even the air in the room made her feel uneasy. It was thick and suffocating and somehow not getting down her lungs quite fast enough to provide any true relief for the sudden hunger that ailed her. She took a step back. Then again, she didn't have that many options. "Does here work?"

He studied her a little longer, an unidentifiable look crossing his features until he nodded, backing off and walking to his side of the table, taking his seat as if it were a throne. "Sure. Works for me. Be here tomorrow at 10 o'clock."

Lily did a double-take, scoffing. "10? Surely you can meet earlier."

"Oh, I'm sorry, is the time the Quidditch Captain Head Boy is setting aside to help you out of the goodness of his heart not good enough for you?" His words were challenging but his face read nothing but dark glee. He knew he had her.

"How about Wednesday?"

"Can't do."

"Thursday?"

"No."

"What are you doing?"

"That's really none of your business." Lily made to open her mouth, but he cut her off, "Look, if you want my help, it's tomorrow, otherwise get someone else."

Lily swallowed her pride. "Okay." The first few prefects started filing in through the door, chatting loudly. She gave Potter one last look for the whole meeting, not really wanting to fester in the malaise that was seeping into her bones. "Thank you."

He shot her a smirk.

She tried not to think about the curve of those infuriating lips, but found that she couldn't stop. She only really snapped out of her worried daze (What the fuck is wrong with me?) when she was given something new to stress about — Remus walking into the meeting late. She knew he had met with Dumbledore about joining the Order and now she was dead curious to know what they'd talked about. She hoped it wasn't terribly obvious when she rushed the meeting along in the hopes of being able to question her friend alone as soon as possible.

"So?" Lily asked expectantly the second she'd closed the door on the last of the lingering prefects.

"I have a worse assignment than you," Remus announced plainly.

"Ha!" Lily barked, throwing her head back. "I seriously doubt that—"

"He wants me to get the werewolves on our side."

Yep. Never mind. That will do it. "Oh. Remy, I'm so sorry." She sat down next to him on the table he had collapsed against. "What are you going to do?"

He pushed his sandy hair back, not for the first time looking old beyond his years. "I don't know. I have until next week to decide if I wanna do it." They sat in silence for a bit, both knowing he would. Remus always did what he believed was right — and Lily admired that about him. She tried to do the same, she really did, but she wasn't sure if she accomplished it quite as seamlessly as Remus did.

"So," he pushed, clearly searching for a distraction, "how'd it go with Potter?"

Her problems suddenly seemed so mind-blowingly pathetic in comparison. Remus had to try to get the allegiance of men and women who could quite literally tear him limb-from-limb. She had to befriend a boy. "It went fine. He's tutoring me tomorrow."

Remus turned to her skeptically. "Why do you look so upset at this? You're way ahead of schedule here." He bumped his shoulder against hers. "Naturally, Miss-Overachiever."

She gave him a little smile before turning forward and swinging her legs over the edge of the table, feeling like a kid again. "I don't know. Something just feels off."

"What do you mean?"

Lily didn't know how to explain the myriad of emotions that had washed over her when she'd been in the room with Potter. "I'm not sure, but… it all feels a little too easy. Like, I'm the one on this mission, but I felt like he was the one up to something. Like," she bit her bottom lip, "he's the one pulling me along some path that I just haven't figured out yet. I don't know," she tacked on quickly. It was a feeling that happened a lot with Potter — feeling like he was always secretly one step ahead of her.

Remus considered her. "I bet you're just looking into it too much. You probably just felt awkward because it was your first day as a spy." Lily snorted and he smiled, clearly having intended to cheer her up. "I'm sure it'll get easier with time."

"Uh huh." She rolled her eyes.

"Soon you'll just be a regular ol' assassin, dropping Death Eaters like it's no big deal."

"I like the sound of that." Lily took a deep calming breath as she leaned her head against Remus' shoulder. No big deal.

Lily was inexplicably nervous waiting for Potter in the Head office at 10 o'clock the next night. She and Remus had devised a game plan during lunch: it was far too early to do any prying without making him suspicious, so the first few times Lily hung out with her target, she'd decided to just follow his lead. Do whatever made him comfortable so he'd begin to drop his guard around her. Knowing what an egotistical maniac he was, he would probably start talking about himself anyway, which worked for Lily.

She looked down at her wristwatch — it was exactly 10. He's late.

A few seconds later, Potter all but burst through the door.

Several thoughts hit Lily all at once. One: he looked stupidly fit in his Quidditch jersey. Sure, she'd seen him on the pitch while he and his team trounced every other one for years running now, but he looked even hotter up close now that she could see the way the green of his shirt was bringing out the jade interspersed in his irises. Two: that was an expensive-ass broom flung over his shoulder. She may not be well versed in models, but she wasn't dumb — and that thing gleamed. Three… her mind went blank before she could get to three, because Potter had just reached behind his neck to grab his collar, yanking his shirt off in one clean, practiced swipe.

She tried not to stare, she really did, but how could she not when his torso was right there in her line of sight. He had abs that looked like she could practically climb like a ladder, framed by a deep seated V that sunk below his snug trousers. It seemed his inability to grow a beard (something she only remembered about him because she'd seen how much it pissed him off) extended to his chest, because the only hair on him was a fine little line of darkness extending down from his belly button. She didn't like where it made her mind go.

He cleared his throat with a smirk, making Lily jump right as she'd begun subconsciously counting how many sweat-glistening abs he had. (Seven. Something she hadn't even known was possible.) He uncharacteristically kept his mouth shut about just having caught her leering at him with a lax jaw. Perhaps the blush she felt spreading over her cheeks was all the admission of her actions he needed.

"Your nipples are oddly high up," she snarked, hating letting him have the upper hand over her like this.

He looked down slowly at his pectorals, before his eyes darted back at her, smiling. "Are they now?"

Why the fuck did I say that? "Yup. But I'm sure you knew that already."

Still grinning, he reached into his gym bag for a clean white shirt, throwing it on. Lily was relieved she no longer had to stare at those ghastly nipples, all but daring her to pay attention to them of course. "Can't say anyone's ever complained about my nipples before, no," he responded, sitting down to her left. "What about you? Anyone ever complained about yours?"

Lily watched the corner of his mouth twitch. She guessed she deserved that; it had been a ridiculous thing to blurt out. She wasn't taking his bait. "Why didn't you just get changed in the locker rooms?"

Potter looked at the clock over her shoulder. "Because I know a certain Head Girl is punctual as hell and I didn't want to be late and rile her up. At least not like that." His eyes twinkled. "Was I wrong?"

This cheeky fucking bastard.

He leaned back in his chair casually, ruffling his hair. The slight sheen of sweat she'd seen cover his body must have been the reason why it seemed to be standing in an even more tousled disarray now. She was hit with a waft of his musky smell and hated how much she didn't hate it.

"Now. What I don't get," he continued nonchalantly, "is why I'm here."

Lily bit her bottom lip, threatening her pulse to chill. "To teach me—"

"Why me?" he interrupted.

Oh shit. Lily realized she was a terrible spy, but this bad? Cover blown on her very second day on the job level bad? This had to be a new record. She found herself scrambling. "You know how to do nonverbal magic."

"Most kids in NEWT Charms do." His gaze dropped down her body. "And it's pretty unusual for you not to ace that class." Lily unexpectedly clutched her wand extra tightly when hazel met emerald once more. It was embarrassing; she shouldn't be struggling this hard on something others had already mastered. She was better than this. "So I repeat: why me?"

Suddenly it clicked. Oh, thank god. She let out a huge internal sigh of relief. He wasn't on to her, he'd just arrogantly assumed that she'd asked him for help to spend time with him. Because he thought she fancied him. Lily couldn't help it; she laughed. "What are you implying exactly?"

Potter leaned forward, resting his weight onto his forearms. "That you're faking it." Lily barely had time to register the challenge in his voice before he plowed on, "You don't have to fake it for me."

Lily's blood ran cold. Why did it sound like they were talking about something else? There's no way, he couldn't know… The only other person in the world who knew that no man had ever made Lily come was Remus, and he'd never betray her secret. Even if the guys had blabbed — and why would they admit to being subpar lovers? — they couldn't know about her other exploits. You're being paranoid. He can't know. He's taking about faking magic only. "I don't fake not being able to do something, Potter. I'm much too smart for that."

"But not smart enough to not fake being able to do something that you can't?"

She sat frozen; the only thing moving was her heart she felt thumping viciously, trying to escape her chest, and her eyes darting all over his face, trying to read the unreadable. How does he know that?! She could tell from his tone exactly what he was implying. How could he possibly know that she'd been faking orgasms for years to make lackluster sex just end already? Rumors? Or has he been spying on me? She supposed most of her dalliances had been across the castle grounds (it was hard to get privacy for a tawdry quickie with roommates around) but… what the fuck?!

She swallowed painfully and started gathering her books, wanting to get out of the room immediately as all the alarm bells rang in her head. "This was a mistake. I shouldn't have asked for your help."

"But you did," he said teasingly. "It's all right. I'm flattered, truly. But next time you could just ask me out on a date."

Lily got to her feet, violently swinging her bag over her shoulder. "I'd never go on a date with the likes of you."

Potter got up too, artfully blocking her exit. "And why's that?"

Her eyes instinctually dropped to his left arm where his Dark Mark clashed horribly with his tan skin. "You know why," she growled.

His eyes narrowed a tiny bit, but if she'd have blinked, she would have missed it, because his cocky mask returned a split second later. "Well, if you're so sure about what a monster I am…" he leaned in, his voice going down to a husky whisper. "Why'd you ask me to meet you here all alone?"

It was an excellent point! Dumbledore was a mad man and she was going to tell him as much tomorrow. If she even lived to see tomorrow. Honestly, what sort of professor asks a Muggle-born to meet with a Death Eater? It's preposterous! It's practically premeditated murder, it's—

Potter's hand landing on the side of her waist yanked her from her downward spiral. "But you know I'd never actually hurt you… right?"

Lily was trying to shut down so many things at once — the warmth she could feel spreading across her stomach from him through her shirt, the way his eyes were almost begging her to believe his words, how damn close he was standing to her, too close — that she was pretty sure she'd just shut down. She couldn't do this. She was out of her league. She had no training for this sort of thing and she was trying to go toe-to-toe with Voldemort's second in command? She felt like she'd just been thrown to the wolves. It was dumb. It was as though Potter had made their interactions into some sort of game, and in ten short minutes, she'd already lost. How does he do that?

She pushed his hand off of her and stepped around him urgently. "Night, Potter," she snapped without a second glance back.

Only after she'd all but flown up three flights of stairs had she allowed herself a moment to lean against a wall to just breathe. She had no idea what he did to her, but she knew she couldn't handle it.

"I told him I couldn't do it," Lily announced, dropping beside Remus in the Great Hall just in time for breakfast.

"W-what?" Remus choked through his porridge.

Lily thumped him on the back, explaining how after getting worked up on her run, she'd all but sprinted straight to Dumbledore's office and told him point-blank that she was calling off her mission.

Remus frowned. "How'd he take it?"

Lily's heart sank along with her pride — all the way to the floor, hell, to the basement. "He said he was disappointed but understood."

"Woof," Remus groaned. He knew how much Lily craved and thrived on the approval of authority figures.

"I know," Lily said, pulling her hair back to redo her ponytail to a tight, punishing height, "but… you weren't there, Remy. The things Potter said…" Her eyes glossed over. "It was like everything was a double entendre and he just— I still don't get how he knew that stuff about me. It freaked me out." She wrapped her arms around herself, subconsciously seeking comfort, even if it was her own.

"Did you tell Dumbledore that?"

Lily felt even more nauseous. "I mean, not the specifics of what he inferred obviously, but yeah. That Potter made me feel unsafe and that he'd clearly done some spying on me as well." Remus nodded but Lily felt the guilt creeping in, as if lying by omission if she didn't tell her best mate everything. "He said that I'd already done such a great job though." She grimaced. "Because now we know he probably has some sort of tools for reconnaissance or something."

Remus gave her a pitying look. She really wished he wouldn't. "You know he still wants you to find out what those tools are, right?"

"Yeah," Lily grumbled, "I know. But honestly, I can't do it. I mean it, Remy. The way he made me feel yesterday—"

Remus put a calming hand on Lily's. "I get it. It's not your job to put yourself in harm's way for the cause."

Lily smiled at his affection. "It's not yours either, you know."

He huffed and returned to his porridge. He'd always just been so much better than her.

Next Chapter: The Denial