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

Song: War Of Hearts by Ruelle

The Temptation

"Well, he's left-handed. And," Lily cleared her throat awkwardly, "obviously I already told you about the magic map he has, and that's the biggest discovery I made, really."

It was Saturday, and Lily found herself in Dumbledore's office with him, McGonagall, and Moody. She'd heard so many stories about the latter that she thought she'd be prepared, but it turned out he was even more formidable in person. He made Lily feel like a complete child, sharing a book report on a story way below his comprehension level.

"We seem to have established a sort of rapport — he's even initiated a lot of it," she continued, grasping at straws to try to make herself appear more useful to the cause than she felt.

When Lily had come to Dumbledore only an hour before, the headmaster had all but jumped on her new information and set up an emergency meeting immediately. Lily suspected his urgency was a way of preventing her from changing her mind again — it really would be so much harder to back out now. The impressed nods McGonagall kept shooting her way filled her with so much joy. That pride and approval was all she'd ever wanted.

"Miss Evans, this is a truly commendable start," Dumbledore said, giving her a warm smile. "We are so happy to have you on our team, and can't wait to learn more about what Mr Potter shares with you."

Lily left the meeting satisfied, and actually quite excited for the one tomorrow with the full Order.

"So you're back in?" Remus asked, weak in energy but strong in smiles, when she visited him in the hospital wing that night. She always liked to let him sleep a solid twelve hours after transformations before disturbing him.

"Yep. I guess so," Lily sighed.

"Huh. Well, that map sounds a bit creepy, doesn't it?"

"It sure explains a lot though," Lily replied, rolling her eyes. She'd previously thought Potter was just exceptionally lucky. "Think you have it in you to attend the meeting tomorrow night?"

It turned out Remus was able to muster just enough energy to join her — but by the end of it, they both wished he hadn't. Dumbledore introduced them to the group, and almost immediately afterwards announced that Remus would be making his first contact with the werewolves that week. Lily's stomach flipped for her friend — and one look at his face told her he hadn't expected to get started so soon either.

Lily's stomach was still in knots Monday morning when the mail arrived. She'd tried keeping a very low profile that weekend and hung around Gryffindor tower considering she'd rattled the proverbial snake pit Friday and she didn't want them seeing her and striking back with any retaliatory measures. This fear became even more real when she saw the headline for The Daily Prophet: "DEATH EATER ATTACK ON MUGGLE MUSIC FESTIVAL — 12 MISSING".

While she'd been safely tucked away in the castle having a meeting with the Order, Potter and his mates had been out, gallivanting around London causing absolute mayhem and terror. The article mentioned how the lack of bodies was throwing Aurors for a loop and making them consider using memory charms on the victims' families in order to make them forget that their missing loved ones had ever existed. Without proof of their deaths, without bodies, it would be so very hard for them to move on and remain oblivious to the supernatural.

Lily couldn't stop staring at the photograph in the paper: there was a smoking tent with glow sticks and beer cups littering the ground, the remnants of a good time, all overshadowed by a haunting skull lighting up the sky — the same one she knew was burned on Potter's arm.

"This is so fucking bad," Lily whispered, mostly to herself, next to Remus. She couldn't stop hearing Potter's words, 'They're primitive,' over and over again. He'd been there. Potter had marched through this photo, shooting curses and possibly being the reason that at least one Muggle family was missing a member. She felt sick.

"How's your neck?" Potter asked nonchalantly as he dropped himself next to her in Potions, pulling his bag strap over his head and off his shoulder to the ground.

She ignored him.

He pretended like he didn't notice. "The rest of my weekend was great, too. Thanks for asking," he said cheekily, still eliciting zero reaction from his lab partner. He continued undeterred, "So, when are we meeting again to go over nonverbal magic? I can't sleep at night knowing you're out and about all vulnerable like this." He was shooting her a megawatt smile.

It made her eyelid twitch. How can he just pretend like everything's okay? How can he go out and do that, and then just flirt the next day? It was preposterous.

The silence lengthened between them until it finally cracked him. "Oh, not again, Evans. I thought we were over this immature ignoring bullshit," he complained, actually looking fully ticked off. It made his jaw even more sharp and angular.

The. Nerve. Lily jerked to her bag, pulling out a copy of this morning's paper and slamming it onto their workstation. She let the article speak for her.

At least Potter had the decency to not try to continue the conversation after that.

By the time the prefects meeting rolled around, Lily was fuming — mostly at herself. She felt as though she'd made so much progress with Potter last week, to the point where he'd started opening up and showing her his secrets, and now she'd gone right back to shutting him out. Sure, he'd gone and caused a little bout of terrorism in the meantime, but she'd known who he was before she'd started this, hadn't she? She'd known that was the whole point of spying on him in the first place… right?

An uneasy feeling prickled in her stomach. Was her reaction due to her own changing feelings towards him perhaps? When it was just them, she could forget that side of him existed. He gave her a peek of a different man who was observant, smart — hell, funny even. She saw potential. And, yes, of course it made Lily hate herself, but watching Potter stride around the room, talking about the dance — it made her a little hot too.

It reminded her of how his lips had been on her cheek and how much she'd liked it, even though it hadn't been nearly enough, but she'd loved it, just like she'd loved her dream, and…

Shit.

When Dumbledore had told Lily that he was asking her to let Potter 'collect' her, and her mind had automatically gone to sex, she had been disturbed. She had thought that when the time came, if it ever even got to that, she'd have to close her eyes and think of England, but... as she watched him strut around the room, his fingers dancing across different papers and his hazel eyes flitting her way periodically, as though silently gauging for her approval whilst he ordered people about, she realized she wouldn't have to. She wanted to keep her eyes open.

She wanted to sleep with him. While awake. And as soon as fucking possible.

Traitorous, terrible body and hormones! she screamed to that very same body, willing herself to remember that he was a murderer. Potter killed people. He'd probably already killed people like her. Why did she want to know what those fingers would feel like inside of her, or all the ways that quick tongue could be put to better use? This wasn't right. This wasn't normal. Normal people didn't want to shag homicidal maniacs.

Most homicidal maniacs don't look like that.

Lily was so fucking confused.

"Oh how I wish I could read your thoughts," Potter purred right next to her, making Lily startle quite abruptly as she realized the meeting had ended and they were now all alone. Remus hadn't been able to make it tonight, too busy prepping for his mission with Dumbledore.

"No need," she snarled despite the rising heat she felt coloring her neck, embarrassed by her distracted state as well as the contents of her musings, "I was just thinking how horridly vile you are."

Potter snorted. "Sure. Well, whatever it was, must have been pretty engrossing to miss the whole end of the meeting. Everyone's set by the way." He brushed some of her hair back behind her shoulder, and Lily flinched. Potter's eyes blazed. "Do I make you nervous, Evans?"

"No," Lily answered stubbornly, staring him dead on.

A grin slowly grew across his face. "You're a terrible liar, love."

"Don't call me that," she spat.

"Why? You like it too much?"

Lily stood up, feeling her blood pressure rising. How was it that whenever she was doubting herself and her mission, he'd hit her with all the saucy remarks? It was like the universe was testing her in some way. "I don't like anything about you, Potter." She was going to make it to the door. She had gotten in the last word, and she was going to leave, with her chin held high and everything would be fine, and she'd get to live to fight another day. A day where she hadn't found out that he and his crew had gone on a killing spree and she could get her head on straight.

"Then why were you eye-fucking me all meeting?"

She could have sworn he spoke the words softly to make them impact her all the more heavily. She paused next to the corner of the table, letting her hip fall against it, but refusing to turn to face him. So, he caught that did he? "I wasn't," she tried.

"Evans…" She didn't have to see him to know he was standing up and smiling. "Anyone can see how you look at me. And," he drew out the word, as if still delighting in how the previous statement had made him feel, "good girls don't lie."

A thousand retorts sprung into her head, and most of them would land her in trouble with Potter. She wasn't so far gone that she'd actively poke the bear like that. "You don't know me."

He was getting closer. She couldn't turn around; she didn't know what would happen if she did. "Course I do." Lily scoffed, so he continued, "I know you barely go out on the weekends because you're too busy studying. I know you go on a run every single morning like clockwork, rain or shine. I know you're either having an affair with Sluggie, or brewing some sort of illicit potion, because you spend far too much time in the dungeons otherwise."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Stalking me on your little map doesn't mean you actually know jackshit about me, Potter." She made the mistake of pivoting and regretted it instantly. His eyes were molten and he was now within reach.

He leaned in, bracketing her body, with both his hands resting on the table around her. She scooted her arse back onto the surface, if only to buy herself a few centimeters of breathing room (not that it was helping). "I know enough," he proclaimed smugly.

"Oh yeah? Like what?" she asked, trying to project an indifference that she knew she didn't possess.

Potter was more than ready to rise to her challenge. "I know you twirl your hair when you're concentrating on something that's stumping you." He reached up and did just that with a fiery lock. "I know that you live for when the elves make crêpes and that you practically border on obsessive compulsive disorder." How is he getting this personal this quickly? "I know you only let one person in because you're terrified of rejection. You think that if you don't play the game, you can't get hurt, but you don't know that the game will just continue without you, and will take you down, whether you're on the pitch or not." He let her hair that he'd wound tightly around his fingers spiral wildly before flying loose. "I can see that you've built up this tough persona, but really… you're just a scared little girl with abandonment issues on the inside." His smile was far too innocent in juxtaposition with his cutting assessment. "Am I getting closer?"

Lily trembled, frozen to the spot as Potter's eyes hungrily roved over her face. She forced a tight swallow. Him saying words doesn't make them true. He doesn't know anything. His opinions don't matter for shit…

He was studying her, and she really didn't like it. "Evans, I know you know I'm no good for you, but you're still here. You're still on this desk, talking to me. So… why do you think that is?"

He really wasn't going to let this go, was he? What the fuck am I supposed to say? There are two truths here, and they're both uncomfortable as fuck. It's either, 'Hey, I want to fuck you silly, morality be damned,' or, 'Our headmaster thinks you're a villainous shithead and asked me to get everything out of you that I can!' Both options made Lily want to die.

She forced her voice to remain steady. "Maybe you put too much faith in my decision making skills."

He seemed to really enjoy this answer. "Bullshit. You overthink everything. So. Let me rephrase it: why do you wanna hang out with me? Are you trying to save my soul?"

"Ha," Lily finally had the easiest answer of all, "I know you're a lost cause, Potter." Did that sort of thing even matter to him?

"Is that what you're into?"

Her face couldn't help but readjust to his cockiness. "Wow. I mean, why don't you just tell me, since you seem to think that you know me so well."

"You mean that facetiously, but I really do."

"Oh yeah?" She pushed down the feeling that everything he'd already told her had hit the nail on the head.

"Yeah, love. I really, really do. Well enough to know you're full of shit."

Lily pulled back from Potter's slow encroach into her space, leaning herself onto her arms even as he was directly over her lap. He was making her more than a little nervous. "Cool. Well, why even bother talking to me if you already have all the answers then, huh?"

"Don't get pissed about it. It is what it is."

"No, Potter, it isn't just 'what it is.' It's what we make of it. We have free will; we have choices," she spat.

"Ah, okay, Evans. I didn't realize we were getting all philosophical here." He did a quick shake of his head to get a lock of hair that had fallen over his forehead back into place. "Why don't you educate me on the matter?"

"What?" Lily fired back angrily. She couldn't believe he was trying to use her own venom on her mere seconds after she'd thrown it at him.

"Well, it sounds like you have a very strong opinion on the topic, so why don't you just lay it all out there for me. What choice is it you're fighting so hard?"

"You're a fucking dick," Lily near shouted in his face. The same face that was still literally right in front of hers. She knew she was completely avoiding his question, but she didn't care.

Potter let out a soft snort. "Astute. O level delivery."

"Fuck off, Potter, truly."

"Why?"

"Because!" Lily yelled, getting more pissed off by the second. "You know your flaws, you know them, but you know what? Admitting to them, and recognizing them, but then doing nothing to actually change them, doesn't somehow relieve you of them! You're still an arsehole if you walk into a room and announce you're an arsehole. That onus is still on you. It doesn't just transfer to whoever's there that allows you to act that way."

Potter bit his lower lip, looking all manners mischievously gleeful. Lily realized that at some point, either she or he had parted her knees, because he was currently standing between them at the edge of the table. She suppressed a shiver. "I don't see how you expect me to change based off of that though." He leaned in, his lips all but brushing Lily's as he carried on, his soft, deep voice the complete opposite of her previous shrill outburst. She turned her head left ever so slightly, suddenly having to concentrate quite heavily on her breathing lest she forget to do it at all. Trying to look at him directly right now felt like looking at the sun — she was going to get burnt. "You see, the way you just so elegantly put it, I'm acting exactly the way I want, and I have the girl I want, exactly where I want her." His tongue darted out to wet his lips, but it hit the corner of her mouth, giving her the smallest of hints of what she coveted. "So… why would I do anything differently?" Lily felt her back arching further and further as he pressed in closer. Only the most minute of shifts would bring their lips together, would nudge his nose to the side so she could snog him for dear life; but as he'd just pointed out, somehow it was her responsibility to be the good guy here. The 'good girl.' She was the only one who would suffer if she gave in to both of their blatant desires for each other's flesh. It isn't fair, she whined to herself.

She didn't know how long someone could reasonably last wanting somebody this badly, while still saying no.

"You're a disease," she muttered against his skin. Even to her own ears, it barely sounded like an admonishment, but more like a carnal confession appropriate only during foreplay.

"And yet, you like me."

'Like' is a strong word. Hearing Potter say that stirred something inside of Lily and made her back stiffen. Wanting to have sex with someone and liking them were very, vastly different things. She didn't like Potter — she couldn't stand him. Potter definitely noticed her switch as well. "Were you at the attack?" she asked solemnly.

Potter pulled his face back, chin raised so he was looking down at Lily brazenly. "Does it matter?"

Does it matter? Does it matter?! "Of course it bloody matters, Potter!" Lily snarled. "I'm not one of your sodding Slytherin wenches. Whether or not you're a psycho matters to me."

"Why?"

Is he fucking serious? Lily could only gape at him.

Potter continued, "You're not trying to marry me, are you? I'm pretty sure you're only trying to fuck." Lily was suddenly very aware of how far apart her legs were spread, because she wanted nothing more than to squeeze them shut before her body got any ideas from how his mouth had just wrapped around that delicious word. He grinned and took advantage of her distracted state by leaning into her neck, wetly kissing his way up. This time, Lily could no longer repress the shiver; it just felt too good. "So who cares what I do?" he said gruffly as his bottom lip dragged across her skin. "All that should matter is that we both want it."

Lily remained stubborn, through and through. "You don't know that I want it," she moaned, craning her neck up to give him better access. Her body was currently very much at odds with what her words were trying to tell him.

Potter chuckled, his teeth nipping faintly over her pulse point. "Fine. If you can't even admit," he whispered, "then you're gonna have to be the one to kiss me first, Evans."

"What?" Lily's exclamation rang through the deserted office extra loudly after how quietly he'd been speaking. She was so shocked by the turn of events that she'd forgotten to fight him on the grounds of not wanting anything to do with him in the first place.

His burgeoning smirk told her that he'd definitely noticed that too. "Call me old fashioned, but I only like to pursue girls who want me to." Oh no. Don't find that he said that hot — that is literally the bare minimum here. "Besides," his fingertips trailed up her thighs, stopping at the hem of her skirt, "I don't trust myself to stop once I get started with you. So it needs to be you kissing me."

And there it was — that dull pulsing between her legs, longing to be touched, impossible to ignore. She had to be the one to initiate this. Suddenly Potter's obsessive need to get her to tell him what she wanted made sense: he'd been waiting for permission to do just this, to begin the physical relationship they were so clearly about to.

All she had to do was give in. All it would cost her was her dignity.

She knew what he was doing. This wasn't about chivalry. This was about her accepting blame for their actions, because make no mistake, them hooking up would be wrong. Twelve probably dead Muggles could attest to that. And possibly even more important in the grand scheme of things than that was: where would hooking up with him even get her? She wasn't sure this was the right way to go about gathering information from him. He'd basically just told her that if she kissed him, they'd shag, and Lily still had the nagging feeling that that would be it. If Lily fucked him, wouldn't he just ignore her the next day? Would he not completely toss her aside because it, and she, would mean nothing to him? She had to be smart about this. She'd been doing so well getting intel piece by agonizing piece, and she didn't want to throw away all her progress just to get laid. She owed the Order more than that.

Even if the Order was the only reason she was in this whole mess in the first place.

This was all so damn confusing.

"Come on, Evans. What's holding you back?" Potter ghosted his lips over hers.

"I thought I had to be the one to kiss you?" Lily breathed, eyes suddenly clamped tightly shut. She had to concentrate; she had to keep her wits about her. She couldn't let Potter's eyes lull her into a false sense of security. She couldn't be making decisions solely for the thudding she felt between her thighs.

"You call this a kiss, Evans? I'm barely touching you." Potter's voice was scratching from deep within his throat. His thumbs, now firmly outlining her quads, greatly contradicted his statement.

Don't give in, don't give in, don't give in. Why was she currently more turned on just by his proximity than she had been by any of her previous lovers' actual shags?

"Open your eyes." He sounded frustrated, yet still authoritative enough that Lily obeyed by instinct. His eyes, his fucking eyes — she felt like they were hypnotizing her. "There you are," Potter cooed, stroking her cheek. His other hand pulled a hard candy from his pocket and popped it into his mouth.

Lily's eyes did a slow drag from his lips where the orange treat had just disappeared in, back to the golden stars in his hazel irises. She felt drunk and completely out of breath.

Potter nudged her nose with his own and brushed his lips past hers once more, hellbent on teasing her to death, as the hand on her cheek migrated down to her tie, ever so faintly pulling her closer, begging her to just go for it already.

His candy smelt of something tangy, and Lily so badly wanted a taste. Only a little one…. Surely just a teensy kiss wouldn't be so bad. It wasn't like he could transfer his sins into her. It wasn't like a quick snog would ruin her completely. Surely, she could still remain an impartial spy after knowing what he tasted like…

Why is he so tempting?

"No." Lily finally found her voice. Did she want to kiss him? Fucking one thousand percent. Did she have to give in just because she wanted to? No.

Potter jerked his head back as if he'd been shocked, her tie slipping through his fingers. Lily briefly wondered if he'd ever been rejected before. He shook his head as he took a step back, finally getting out of Lily's space, letting out a little huff. Lily could tell he was actually quite furious now, his ego having just taken a massive hit, but he was trying to hide it in order to seem unaffected. Lily was sure showing emotions as a Death Eater was some sort of big no-no. He clearly threw out his next words with the intention to sting: "No wonder you're so ticked off all the time, Evans. You're just living your life repressing yourself." He let out a humorless laugh as he ruffled his hair. Lily's glare turned to stone. "You know, it's probably why you're still struggling with nonverbal magic too. You're wound more tightly than a spring… ready to bounce—" he looked down to her tits for a millisecond, "—free at any moment." His back teeth chomped down hard on the candy in his mouth, cracking it loudly in two. "I'm just really hoping I'm there when it happens."

She couldn't believe she'd nearly kissed this bloke. What a fucking arsehole. He would never be worth it — never. "Do you just like hearing yourself speak? Is that it?" Lily snapped.

Potter grinned, clearly glad to have gotten yet another rise out of her, as he took a step back. Lily ignored her yearning to feel his heat against her once more. Would it be too obvious to close my legs now? Do I just sit here, pretending to be as unbothered as him? "Not nearly as much as you clearly hang off of every word, but yes."

The arrogance. It would never stop baffling her. She felt her nostrils flaring as she tried to reel in her rage. She hated that his smile was only growing and growing. Her mother had always told her that she wore her emotions on her sleeve.

He taunted further, twisting that knife in a little deeper. "Does it bother you? The way I talk to you?"

There was no reason for her to lie on this one: "Yes."

He cocked an eyebrow. "Cold, Evans?"

"What?" she asked before she could register where his gaze had flicked down to, again. Lily could feel her flush heating up her cheeks as she crossed her arms over her chest, quite sure her nipples had to be piercing through her blouse and the thin lace fabric of her bralette. Stupid, fucking design. She reminded herself not to wear such cute underwear until the peers she surrounded herself with grew the fuck up. "That doesn't mean shit," she tried covering for her obvious arousal.

"If you say so," Potter drawled, strutting away backwards, as if to really showcase his condescending smirk, before spinning on his heel and walking to the door. She sat there, shooting daggers at his back and pondering how he never really fought fair, when he looked over his shoulder, shooting her a wink. Considering how he'd already caught her watching him leave before, this time hardly seemed quite as embarrassing. "When you're ready to do what you want — instead of what you think you should do — you know where to find me." He slipped around the corner.

He'd definitely won that round. It was so stupid, but she knew it was true. Lily buried her face in her hands, biting her tongue so she wouldn't scream. But then she heard Potter's previous words ringing in her ears, telling her how she was repressing herself, holding herself back, and it set her off. She raised her head to the ceiling and really did just fucking scream.

It felt good.

Next Chapter: The Slip-Up

Aka an actual kiss...?