Hey guys! Happy Halloween Weekend! Thank you all for being so kind and patient with me during my break. We're back. Also, in case you missed it, I ended up writing and posting what happened in this story between chapter 7 and 8 (the night in James' bed after the dance that Lily couldn't remember) called The Forgotten Night, so you can check that out if you want some spoilers ^.^
Recap: Dumbledore has assigned Lily to spy on James Potter — Death Eater extraordinaire — to try to gather intel, except Lily falls for him, hard. While tied to James' bed, Lily overhears James and Sirius talking about a Death Eater meeting, which she tells the Order, but it's a trap that gets 18 Aurors killed. Moody and the rest of the Order think that Lily is a double agent and turn on her, which only pushes her closer to James. While she's high on the Veritaserum the Order force-fed her, she admits to James that she loves him. James turns around and tells her he loves her too, and then during a class duel, hits her with an orgasm charm and asks her out on a real date. Against her 'better judgement' — or not really — she accepts.
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter. Art work by the super talented blvnk-art (tumblr) aka potterbyblvnk (insta)
Song: Bad Habits by Ed Sheeran for Lily and Shivers for James
The Date
"So, I hear you're going on a date, poppet," Sirius said, dropping into the seat next to hers in the library after class while Lily was desperately trying to finish up all her assignments for tomorrow. She had a feeling that it was going to be a late night with Potter. You know, on our date. Lily truly felt like she had learnt nothing. Ever. Shut up.
"Course you did, you were there when he asked, Black," Lily shot back, not looking up from her book.
Sirius huffed. "Well. I'm happy your head is no longer lodged up your arse and you're finally giving him a real chance."
Lily glanced at him startled, realizing something: the whole reason he'd called her out in the bathroom after she'd healed James had been because he'd known too. If James knew Lily was a spy at the time, then of course Sirius had been aware as well. No wonder he had said she was full of shit when she'd complained about James' unknown intentions — he'd known that she was the one actually using him and not the other way around.
Yikes. This is awkward. She didn't like admitting she'd been in the wrong. "Let's not talk about my arse," she deflected.
Sirius rolled his eyes as he relaxed further into his chair. "Right. Let's only do that when Prongs is also around, shall we?" She knew what he was alluding to. She felt the flush of her cheeks stretching all the way down to her chest. It made Sirius chuckle. "Aw, don't be shy. It makes sense that I'm also your type. I mean, look at me."
Oh my god. "You're conceited as fuck."
He grinned wolfishly. "Don't worry, sweetheart. My type is skinny, tall, and gorgeous… so you nearly made the cut as well." She rolled her eyes, sending him a death glare that he absolutely loved. He snorted as he got to his feet. "Well, later, Evans. Enjoy Prongs' prong…" He strolled off with an extra bout of swagger.
Prats. Every last one of them.
Lily shuddered, further mulling over his little joke. Well, she knew she would, so there was really no point denying it. That ship had definitely sailed as soon as she'd agreed to the date with James. It was almost laughable to consider that she wouldn't be getting laid tonight, at least once. (Who am I kidding? Probably at least three times.) She couldn't wait.
"You look beautiful," Potter said as Lily climbed out from behind the Fat Lady.
She had no idea what they were doing, so she'd settled on her usual cloak, jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt. "You didn't tell me what to wear."
"I mean, your arse looks lethal in those, so, you picked well all the same."
Why did she love the compliment so much? It wasn't even a good one. "How do you know? You can't even see it right now."
"I recognize the jeans from the front, Evans. They're my favorite pair on you, hug your ass just right." He gave her an innocent smile that quivered at the edges as he offered up his hand. "You ready?"
She didn't take it yet. She was still tempering her excitement over the prospect of going out with him again with the knowledge that she really shouldn't be this eager. She felt like he could read it written all over her face anyway. "Where are we going?" Play it cool, play it cool. As much as she was trying to fight it, she was still thrilled by the idea of escaping the castle. Outside these walls, it would be all the more easy to forget about the war and having to pretend like James wasn't nearly everything she'd ever wanted from a man but was too afraid to admit in public. Couples didn't have to agree on everything, did they?
"Really, Evans?" He raised his awaiting palm higher. "You think I'd ruin the surprise like that?"
I never know what you're about to do. She placed her hand in his, warmth shooting up her arm.
"That's my girl." He winked, and a second later, Lily gasped as she felt the telltale signs of Apparation taking hold of her body, squeezing her against James through that tunnel between time and space.
She landed on her feet shakily. "H-how did you do that?" she whispered, looking up at him in disbelief. As far as she knew, no one could Disapparate out of Hogwarts. No one.
He leaned in for a little kiss, clearly chuffed with the way her mouth had morphed into surprised admiration. "After Pomfrey banished me from the hospital wing, I figured out how to locally drop wards for a few seconds, including the major ones protecting the castle," he whispered against her lips. "No one can keep me from you now." Lily swallowed, avidly watching the glow of his eyes. "No one." An inferno ignited in her belly, begging her to drag him to some deserted alley and have her way with him. One of his hands squeezed her waist. "I haven't told anyone else yet though."
The implication was simple: Will you?
Lily knew she should theoretically tell someone that a Death Eater could now just leave the castle on a whim, but one flash of Moody's cane jammed against her neck during his interrogation made up her mind for her. "I won't either." After all, if he said he hadn't told anyone else, that meant that he hadn't told Voldemort specifically. Did his punishment rattle James' loyalty to him? James didn't really strike Lily as a man who responded well to fear-based lessons. If anything, she could see Voldemort's attack on him having had the opposite effect on his devotion and pushing him away…
As it were, it seemed like James was offering her a little olive branch, saying I don't have to supply weapons to my side, if you can hold off on doing the same. Perhaps this could stay their little secret — and be the start of many more.
Lily also didn't miss the fact that being kept from her, even if only for an hour, had driven him so insane that he had learnt how to crack centuries old magic. When would she ever find another man not only powerful enough to do that, but who also loved her badly enough to even attempt to do that for her?
He smiled before kissing her again, but slowly now, taking his time to completely steal her breath away, his hands behind her ears, and his tongue torturously swirling around hers. He pulled back with a gentle tug of her lower lip, his eyes taking in every bit of her intoxicated expression. "Fuck, I love you, baby."
How on earth was she supposed to survive this date? Lily looked away, hands still clutching at his forearms, trying to keep from swaying on the spot. He'd really never been good for her, but she was starting to care less and less about that. Is anyone truly that good anyway? She sure as hell knew she wasn't — everyone around her kept reminding her of that. And the fact remained: she did love him.
Her words spoke otherwise. "I can't believe you forced me to go on a date with you."
James snorted. "Lils," he nudged her face back to his, "we're alone now. You can drop the I-hate-you act. No one has to know you're giving in to me again." He grinned as he felt the hot shiver that ran through her with his declaration.
"I'll have to know," she responded stubbornly.
"Yeah," he said, "but you'll like it, because you like me. Wait, sorry," he leaned into her ear, "you love me."
He really isn't going to let that go, is he? "Again. You kidnapped me, so at best, what I feel for you is Stockholm syndrome."
"Nope," he said, spinning on his heel as he started dragging her along with him, "for it to be that, you couldn't have liked me from the beginning."
"I didn't—"
"Keep telling yourself that, love."
She huffed, but suddenly, the salty sea air hit her nose, and Lily looked around, completely startled when she saw they were in the middle of some marina with people milling about. Did we just Apparate in front of them?! There was a little girl staring their way with her mouth open and a scoop of ice cream laying forgotten and melting at her feet, so presumably: yes. Lily had been so completely consumed by Potter that she'd missed everything else surrounding them. "Wait, where are we?"
He let out a low chuckle, squeezing her hand in his larger one. "Cannes," he threw out super casually, still leading her. They were nearly hit by a car crossing the road, but the way James' left hand twitched in his pocket told Lily that he was ready to blow the thing up with even the slightest provocation.
"As in France?" Lily asked incredulously, awkwardly waving to the angry driver, hopefully placating them a little. She had to think that there were some sort of border protection laws at play that they were currently breaking. Was she surprised that James wouldn't care? No. Absolutely not. "Like in another country?"
"How many other Cannes do you know of?" he asked her amused.
She supposed it had been a stupid question. She nearly ran into him when he stopped abruptly in front of a fancy store, the display window showcasing amazing dresses that Lily could only imagine being strutted on runways and… lingerie. Very, very sexy, barely-there, lingerie.
She swallowed her trepidation. "Um, James? Why'd we stop?"
He pulled out his wand and tapped on the door handle three times, making it glow red. "We're going shopping," he replied simply.
Lily pointed through the window; all the lights were out. "They're clearly closed."
James laughed as the lock clicked and the door creaked ajar, inviting them in. "You're cute." He pushed it open and tugged Lily inside.
Right. Perks of the rich, she grumbled in her head. They were immediately greeted by a house-elf, bowing down to the floor and snapping his fingers, lighting up all the chandeliers of the ostentatious space. "Mr Potter," he stammered out nervously, "we are delighted to have you here."
"Leave," he ordered, striding forth confidently and throwing a little baggie of coins at the elf's feet. "We'll let you know when we're ready to purchase our things."
The elf didn't need to be told twice. With a pop, he disappeared, leaving the two of them alone in the otherwise empty boutique.
"James, I didn't bring a whole lot of gold—"
He rolled his eyes, strolling over to a display of dresses and running his fingers through the array of fabrics. "Lily, please. Don't insult me."
Right, right right. Of course. He would get off on treating her. "What exactly are we shopping for?"
He threw a smirk over his shoulder, walking between the aisles. "Something fancy, something sexy, and something…" his finger caught on the bra strap of one of the mannequins, "sexier."
Lily crossed her arms over her chest. "You brought me here to buy me underwear?"
He spun on his heel and eyed her up and down indecently. "Would you believe me if I told you it's always been a fantasy of mine to buy you a set?"
Yes, that one hundred percent tracked. He grinned at her, before biting his lip, obviously lost in all the times he'd previously dreamt out this little scenario. She wasn't sure how he'd done it, but she could swear that the whole room had somehow just gotten ten degrees hotter. "Let me guess," she began, stepping closer to him leisurely, "part of that fantasy includes having me try on all the pieces in front of you?"
As soon as she was within reach, he pulled her closer to him by the belt loops, leaning into her ear. "Now you're getting it." Instead of kissing her like she'd expected — and somehow craved even though it had only been minutes since their last snog — he used her momentum to propel her towards the selections, spanking her ass as she lurched forward.
She spun back to him with a pointed finger. "Watch it," she threatened with a smug grin.
"Oh. I will, Evans. Trust me, I will…"
Merlin have fucking mercy.
Together they picked out a few lingerie pieces for Lily to try on, but they only got through the first one. Right after Lily had slipped into the little black number, with sheer lacy cups, a thong that might as well have been floss, and a garter belt connecting to black pantyhose, Lily had stopped in the mirror and admired herself. Her hair was laying in radiant waves, her makeup was impeccable, and her body? It looked fucking amazing. She'd always taken care of herself, and sure, her sole previous method of gaining pleasure had done her body well, but to feel this wanted by one man also did wonders to her level of confidence. For the first time, she was seeing herself through someone else's eyes, and he was right — she was a motherfucking queen.
She confidently opened up the curtains of her changing stall, almost giddy to see his reaction.
He did not disappoint. "Lily—" he breathed, getting to his feet off of the couch in the center of the room, his eyes going crazy, trying to consume every curve all at once. He was on her in two big steps. "Fuck, baby." He seemed overwhelmed as his hands possessively dug into her waist and arse, dragging her against him.
"You like it?" she teased, tilting her head to the side coquettishly.
"Yes," he replied, his voice gruff, not even bothering to come up with a clever little quip to hide his obvious arousal. "I like this on you." She supposed his inner caveman that could barely string together more than a few words at a time had come out with the sight of her so bare for him.
"You like everything on me," she joked cockily, flinging her hair over her shoulder.
His eyes snapped to hers, ready to meet her there in her mischief. "No, I like everything off of you," he corrected.
"That's good," she replied, vaguely pointing over her shoulder, making like she was about to return to her stall, "because I have another couple to try on—"
James growled, picking her up, and guiding her legs around his waist. "No." She flexed her thighs in desire, holding herself up against him so his hands could explore the naked expanse of her backside. "This is the one, I don't need to see anything else."
She smiled as he descended on her neck, walking them over to a wall as her fingers started plucking open the buttons of his shirt. "A man who knows what he wants," she muttered, trying to keep her sass levels up as she started drowning in his touch.
She could feel his smirk as he pressed it into her skin. "Always."
It was true. He'd always wanted her. It had been one of the few constants in her life, and she'd been too stubborn to see it, too silly to appreciate it. She was starting to think those days were over — she didn't want to take him for granted anymore. She eagerly pushed his shirt over and off his shoulders, relishing in his hot, hot skin against hers.
"Like what you see?" he asked her, clearly having witnessed her wandering eyes. She knew she'd been all but drooling over his damn, broad shoulders.
You know I do, smug arsehole. "Ugh," Lily groaned, "why do I like you?"
He chuckled as he pressed her into one of the mirrored walls, his body so perfectly slotted between hers. "So now you do like me, huh?" His mouth was magical and rough as he started working on the column of her neck, making her grind her hips into his.
She couldn't help but laugh. He was clearly in such a great mood. She figured she was allowed to tease him all she wanted as she clawed her nails down his back. Fuck, I love that back so much too… "I like it when you fuck me, Potter. Don't let it go to your head."
"That isn't any less likely to go to my head, Evans. I happen to be very proud of my fucking skills." He nipped and sucked her first hickey of the night. This boy loved watching all the ways he could paint on and arouse and positively destroy every centimeter of her body.
"Fuck, fine," she moaned, inner thighs tightening in a vice grip around him, trying to squeeze him to death with her horniness. The need for him she could feel growing inside of her was reaching unhealthy levels. "Let it go to your big-ass head. I don't care."
He smiled, pulling his head back so he could watch her expression. "But it sounds like you do. Because you like me." He smiled, clearly goading her.
This guy was impossible.
"But it's okay. Because I rather like you too." His lips wrapped around the phrase as though words have never tasted sweeter to him — as though trying to remind her, over and over, that this was truly all that should matter. Love.
Lily leaned into him, arms circling around his shoulders, tits smushed against his chest, making sure to ever so lightly brush her lips against his ear as she whispered, "No. You love me."
Oh, he liked that. Lily felt James' growl emanating from deep in his chest as his hips had an unexpected stutter forward, pressing her even more into the mirror with his sudden desire to be as close to her as possible.
"If we don't fuck right now," he murmured huskily, moving one of her bra straps to the side and releasing a breast, "I'm not going to be able to think straight for our entire date." He propped her up higher so he could trail his lips across her nipple before blowing her mind with a firm nip. She gasped, hands jumping to his biceps and nails digging into his taut muscles. "And I'd really, really love to enjoy this date with you, Lils."
"Then do it," she ordered, craning her body for easier access to his mouth, barely holding on as it was. It had been a while since their last tryst on the Great Hall floor, and she was ready — so fucking ready — to do it again.
He chuckled, his warm breath tickling her, and making her shiver. "We'll make love later, yeah?" Lily could hardly register his words, nodding absentmindedly, already in another world of searing kisses and scrumptious teasing and — why is he chuckling again? "You're so good for me, baby."
Before she could ponder why she was getting praised, he started pushing her higher along the mirror, scooping his arms under her thighs and sliding her up so they were balanced on his shoulders, making her yelp in surprise. "Straighten your legs." She obeyed him, the action immediately lengthening her torso out and aligning her with his mouth. He grinned as he pushed her thin knickers to the side with his nose. "Let's get you nice and ready for me," he said before digging in.
The little that was left of Lily's scattered thoughts were almost completely blasted out of the water as she weaved her fingers through his messy hair, holding on for dear life as his tongue did sinful things to her down below while she was propped up there, sky-high. Was this her life now? One minute, studying her arse off in the library, the next, getting eaten out somewhere random in the bloody French Riviera?
Unable to use his fingers to enhance her pleasure given their crucial role in holding her safely above him, he rubbed his nose on her clit firmly as he continued lapping, coaxing as many sighs and whimpers out of her as he could. Lily threw her head back (painfully being reminded there was glass behind her, but whatever, she'd get over it) and moaned, then moaned again when she opened her eyes to see so many versions of them reflected back at her in this mirrored, octagonal room. How was any woman supposed to last when confronted with multiple angles of the strong and dangerous man of her dreams holding her up and absolutely going to town between her thighs? His back muscles rippled, her scratch marks angry and red across his skin, and his biceps bulged, and for fuck's sake, what was he doing down there? Probably breaking at least a dozen international laws on human decency, that's what. And she loved it.
She was ready. Hell, she'd probably been ready as soon as he moved her into this position, as sexy as it had been. "James," she sighed, lightly pulling on his hair.
He leaned his head back with his tongue still out, licking the entire way up. She shuddered in his grasp, making his gaze lustfully amused. "Yes, love?"
"I'm ready for you now," she ground out, forcing what little moisture remained in her mouth down her throat. She felt like it had all gathered elsewhere.
He pulled them away from the mirror and shrugged her off his shoulders, easily catching her around his waist once more. Fuck, she appreciated how damn fit he was. Having a man who could toss her around was going to be a whole lot of fun. "How do you want it?" he questioned.
She bit her lip, relaxing into his arms. She knew he'd do literally anything she asked of him, and the thought was driving her mad with excitement. She looked past his shoulder. "Over the back of the couch?"
He made a satisfied grunt as he walked them to the middle of the room, dropping Lily onto the edge of the couch, still standing between her legs. "Like this?"
Lily's fingers gripped onto the leather cushion under her bum, curling her legs to draw him tighter into her. "Yes," she breathed, perching up to kiss him.
He smirked, pulling his face back from her, as his thumb found her clit, and she knew she was in trouble. "Do you think you've earned that?" he drawled.
"What?" Lily asked as she tried getting her bearings, feeling simultaneously rejected and pursued now that he was drawing lazy circles on her.
"Do you think you've earned me fucking you?" he questioned more slowly, delighted by her current state under his hand.
What sort of question was that? "Yes," she replied ardently.
"So you've been a good girl?"
He was obsessed with the phrase. "I think so?"
"You think so?" he taunted, his lips slanting crookedly, as he stilled his thumb, threatening to pull back at any second.
"No, I'm sure, I'm sure," Lily amended rapidly, not wanting him to retreat any further. "I've been great. So fucking great."
"How?"
She angrily blew hair off of her face. Are we gonna shag now or what?! "What the fuck do you mean, how?"
"Language, love," he mocked, savoring every second of her frustration.
Lily gasped as his free hand came up to her hair, yanking it back, bringing her face right under his. She grit her teeth before answering literally anything that came to mind. "I aced my Charms exam."
He smirked at her, thoroughly entertained as he started flicking her off again. "Well, that's good."
Lily felt a completely irrational swell of pride fill her up. "I finished all our patrol schedules for next week already."
"That's always appreciated," he said barely above a whisper. James removed his fingers from her and brought them in front of her mouth. "Open up, baby girl." Lily's brows scrunched, but she did so, eyes widening when he stuck two fingers inside, her tongue automatically wetting them as her lips closed around him. She tasted herself on him, and the naughtiness of that drove her wild. He slowly withdrew them, moving his hand back between her thighs, his eyes snapping to hers, his heat scorching her. "Anything else?"
She wanted to top it. She wanted to give him a reason to push those fingers inside of her. She was starting to figure out all his games and was deadly curious what a little naughty teaser would earn her. "I'll suck you off between classes tomorrow." She paused, watching the satisfaction blossom all over his face. "If you want me to."
James finally seemed to be the one taken aback, looking at her in all manners of amazement, as though he couldn't believe she was actually real — and his. So very his. His fingers sunk into her cunt, exactly like she hoped they would. She whimpered brazenly. "I do want you to."
Lily knew she had him right where she wanted him, and she decided to keep pushing the envelope just as much as he was pushing his fingers in and out of her. "I'll make you come in my mouth again too, baby, because I can't wait to taste you like before."
"Fuck," James moaned as he finally flipped her over, one hand on her back pushing her down over the couch backing so her arse lifted into the air, while the other opened his belt and hastily pushed down his trousers. His cock slipped in easily, right where Lily had being waiting — ever so patiently — for it.
She quickly said a little prayer for all the people around the world who would never know what it was like to be fucked like this — who didn't know how James Potter could make a girl feel. There had to be millions of women out there who thought that sex could feel merely pretty good, really good even, when it was supposed to blow your fucking mind.
"Yes," Lily cried out, clenching her fingers into fists below her ribs. She wasn't in control of the shag, but she was very happy her little display just now had shown her who had the true power. It had taken her a minute to figure him out, but now that she had, she supposed all bets were off. Beg. Beg, beg, beg…
James spanked her ass as he pumped away, seemingly overcome with the feel of her. "Lily, you don't know how tight you feel, for fuck's sake."
Lily arched her back, instantly switching up the angle of his penetration and making him moan. The slide of him so deep in and out of her walls was sinful. "Kiss me," she pleaded.
Before James did, his fingers plucked at one of the garter straps running down her thigh, making it painfully snap against her skin, causing her to hiss. "Your skin flushes so beautifully," he groaned, thumb trailing soothingly along the little red line he'd made.
"Baby, please—" Lily tried bringing him back from his distraction to what she wanted.
He remembered his mission, pulling on her hair and bending her up as he leant down, making her all but putty for him as his upper and lower half worked in tandem to give her everything she needed to get there. Well, almost everything. But he rectified that when his free hand reached for his wand in his pocket, and snuck it around her leg and against her clit. As he kept up his hips' fast, cracking pace, she knew she was done for.
"Fuck, James, James, wait—" Lily pleaded desperately, trying to angle her clit away from the direct line of buzzing that was threatening to break her system. She didn't want to come this quickly — she wanted to make this moment last forever, this date last forever, and if she came, and it was over, they'd have to go back to their regular lives. She probably should have had this freakout before they'd started shagging right away, even before dinner. Was that the sort of message she was sending him? That she wasn't serious about this?
Am I?
She thought she was. Perhaps it was the fact that he was still partially dressed, and she was wearing underwear, that gave the whole scene, reflected so erotically back to her at all angles, a clandestine affair feeling — as though they were rushing a moment of ecstasy that was never meant to be theirs in the first place. She was suddenly overcome with the irrational fear that as soon as the sex was over, they'd have to go back to the castle and she'd be forced to give him up all over again, because it was the right thing to do.
"It's okay," James cooed, his hips slowing down to an extra measured thrust so he could fully watch her. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."
I'm right here. Why'd he say that? Were her fears that obvious? Was he worried about the same thing — that the pressure of society and school would make her leave him again? Was he trying to make her feel a level of safety she previously hadn't had, remind her that with him, everything could be different?
She somehow felt it working. She felt her muscles relaxing, primed to tense up and release again for her pleasure. The wand felt so fucking good, enhancing the feel of his cock as it thrusted in and out of her, stretching her with every motion.
"James," she moaned, wishing once more to be able to hold him in some way, deciding seeing his reflection — as sultry as that was — just wasn't enough.
She didn't know how, but he understood her. For one painstaking moment, he drew his wand off of her apex and his cock out of her, spun her around to sit onto the ledge, and put both right back.
The first thing Lily did with the new angle was kiss him for all he was worth.
"Shit, Lils," he cried out, breaking free as she raked her fingernails down his back, wanting nothing more than for him to fill her to the hilt.
"Fuck me, fuck me," she chanted in sync with his thrusts, "just like that, please."
James bit her earlobe as he fulfilled her request. "Whatever you want, baby, always whatever you want."
He held on for only a few moments after she did, watching and waiting for her cue the entire time.
Lily didn't think he could get any more sexy than when he scrunched up his face, finally giving in to the gratification that had been on the verge of taking him down since they'd begun. She was pretty sure when she'd come, he'd drunken her in like a sunset, but she was already past that somehow. Maybe it was a deep-seated, problematic desire, but she was ready to watch his undoing now, completely fascinated by it — by him. She wanted to see what her body was capable of drawing out of his. Lily gaped enraptured as James' brows furrowed, his hips jerked, and she knew, she just knew, he was about to spill himself into her. She'd done that to him. Her parts had made him feel so good that he'd lost his mind to her.
She'd made other boys come before, but it had never felt this collaborative. Lily had never felt like they'd been working together towards a common goal of mutual obliteration quite like this. She'd never felt like giving a man his orgasm had somehow given her this much satisfaction, especially when he'd tenderly bestow kisses all over her face, and tell her what a great job she'd just done, just for him. Because at the end of the day, that's what this boiled down to: she loved watching James Potter come.
(Lily would realize later in class — when bored and thinking about his face like this, all hot as hell — that another reason she loved to watch him climax was because she was finally getting to see a moment where he wasn't in control. A moment where she had pushed him so far, that he gave up everything to her, for her. The thought made her feel weak with desire, which was always an awkward way to feel in History of Magic.)
Lily and James left the boutique an hour later, satiated and glowing, having also found a slinky silver dress that sparkled with every move she made, clinging to her breasts and stopping just short of her mid thigh. As soon as James had seen it adorned on her body, he had proudly declared that he couldn't wait to watch the faces of every other man in the club as they saw her, only to realize that they couldn't have her like he could. (That was how Lily happily learnt that he was taking her clubbing after dinner.) It was fun to see that while he was insanely possessive, that part of him wasn't as overwhelming as the part that wanted to show her off, the part that gained pleasure in proving to the world that she'd picked him despite all odds.
Lily was currently wearing the far less flashy floor length black gown they'd purchased that was probably worth more than her entire orphanage, but Lily tried not focusing on that. James had picked out a smart suit jacket for himself, that he naturally looked flawless in, and Lily guessed they were now headed off to dinner. Where though, she had no idea, considering they looked far too fancy for most places she could imagine.
He was leading her back to the docks, now far less crowded, but still populated by a few gaping strangers. They did look like they'd just stepped out of a GQ ad. James paid the Muggles absolutely no mind as he conjured up a white rose out of thin air, handing it to her.
"James," she admonished, quickly moving to hide it behind her back while simultaneously pushing his wand down, "there are still people here, and judging by their faces, they're not accustomed to magic—"
"I'm not ashamed of who I am Lily, so I refuse to hide it," he cut her off. She wanted to fight him on it, her lids blinking rapidly as she thought up her rebuttal, because that wasn't what this was about, but he was too fast. "You shouldn't either. Be proud of who you are." He tucked some of her hair behind her ear. "I know I am."
Damn he's good.
"We're here by the way." Lily's brows scrunched in confusion, looking for some floating restaurant she'd missed. There wasn't one, instead, they were standing in front of not the biggest — there was a gigantic party boat down the row that held that title — but perhaps one of the fanciest yachts docked at the marina.
"What do you mean?"
He nudged his head to the boat behind him, and Lily read the name Fealty painted on its hull. "It's my family's yacht. Figured this is where we could eat and spend the night."
Lily's jaw unhinged, trying to process the plethora of information he'd just dropped on her. They own a yacht? Why's it in France? How often do they even use it? Who needs to own their own yacht anyway? Are we just going to stay docked all night? Wait— "The night? What do you mean spend the night?"
"Well, you see, when the sun goes down in the sky beyond the horizon, and all the light disappears, what happens is this thing called—"
Ha! This guy thought he had jokes all of a sudden. Clearly, he had gotten far too comfortable with her if he was letting her in on his more snarky side. She glowered at him. "Potter—"
"We have to sleep somewhere, love," he said as though it was obvious. "It's not a good idea to Apparate when piss drunk — especially this far. Just ask Padfoot." Lily hadn't thought of that. She hadn't ever even tried Apparating this far sober.
She raised a skeptical brow. "And we're getting piss drunk tonight, are we?"
He smirked at her. "I told you we were going clubbing, didn't I? How else are you supposed to do that?"
He raised a fair point, but the fact remained. "So we head back to the castle first thing in the morning before classes?"
"We'll see." He put a warm palm on the small of her back and led her to the ramp to board the yacht, assisting her on.
"We'll see?"
"Evans, relax. We can go back as soon as you want, but trust me… you'll want to stay longer."
"Cocky bastard," she mumbled.
"Nah," he replied cockily, joining her, and for some reason his little jump next to her reminded Lily of just how tall and yummy he was. She yelled at herself to stop ogling him so obviously. "Just confident."
Uh huh. "What would we even do tomorrow?"
He led the way to the front deck, where a candlelit table awaited them, an empty vase in the center, ready for Lily's rose. Damn. Damn damn damn, he thought of everything. She stealthily slipped it in. She wondered if it was just her imagination, or if the petals really did open just a bit wider when the stem dipped into the water, almost glittering as they released their marvelous smell. "Relax. Swim. Enjoy." The impish way the light in his eyes danced told her exactly what he meant by enjoy.
"I didn't bring a bathing suit."
He seemed to love that she wasn't even fighting him on their presumed 'enjoyment', glad that they'd at the very least cleared that little hurdle. "Oh no?" His lips curled so devilishly. Why was she fighting the urge to snog that look straight off his face? "Didn't you?"
He pulled her chair out for her and helpfully pushed her in after she sat. She wasn't really used to wearing such restrictive clothing. "You bloody well know I didn't, Potter." She rolled her eyes. "And we just came from a store too."
"Huh." James sat across from her, unbuttoning his blazer and reaching for the champagne bottle, popping it open with a flourish, making her giggle as the cork flew straight off the boat and landed in the ocean with a little plop. "Must have slipped my mind."
She smirked at him as she accepted the glass he'd poured. "Must have."
She didn't think it was an accident that he waited until she'd brought the fizzy drink to her lips to say: "Guess we'll just have to skinny dip."
"W-what?" she sputtered, coughing up a storm.
His damn dimple had made its grand reentrance into society. "What, Evans? Don't tell me you're still scared of a little nudity?"
Oh, fuck you. She threw her head back and downed her glass, offering it back to him for a refill. "You wish, Potter."
He bit his lip, loving her attitude before he emptied his own flute and obliged her by topping them each up with another hefty pour. Lily was vaguely aware that this was the fancy sort of stuff — definitely not something you should be chugging on a million pound yacht — but fuck it. She'd waste his money for him if he really wanted her to.
A house-elf came around to serve them shortly afterwards and keenly left to follow James' instructions to take the boat out around the harbor so Lily could delight in the view of the city. If he was trying to impress her, he really didn't have to go so hard. The most elaborate thing any guy had ever done for her before this was take her on a picnic, but really, Lily had liked that just the same. Well, she supposed she enjoyed the present company a little more…
Lily was surprised to see James' jaw clench when she looked back at him. There was a soft quality to his voice when he asked her, "So what do you think, Evans? What are my odds of getting another date after this one?"
Lily eyed him curiously. "Isn't it a little early in the night to ask me that?"
He shrugged his shoulders, but she could tell he was uncharacteristically nervous. "I like to plan ahead." She doubted that was true. Then again… he did claim he's liked you for years… "Want to place a bet on it?"
Lily jerked her head back, focusing on cutting the chateaubriand on her plate. She thought the odds of merely asking her out again would be higher than an actual wager. "What did you have in mind?"
James watched as Lily lifted the meat with a delicate fork and slipped it inside her mouth, licking the sauce off her lips. How did he make her feel like even just eating was suddenly erotic? This boy was obsessed with her. "Quidditch." He cleared his scratchy throat and tried again. "Let's bet on Quidditch. If we kick you guys' arses this weekend, I get to take you out on another date."
So he still liked the chase even though he practically already had her skinned and quartered? Lily found that she wasn't surprised. "What constitutes as an arse kicking?"
He grinned wickedly. "Oh, you'll know when you see it."
She snorted. "Watch out. You get any more cocky, you're going to have to transfer to Gryffindor…"
"Thanks for admitting that Gryffindors are all dicks."
"It's sort of a side effect of always being the best," she sassed back.
Oh, he was so happy, pondering that statement. "Did you just imply that dicks are the best?"
Goddamnit. "Focus, Potter." He threw his head back laughing, clearly having the time of his life. She had to bite her cheek when he faced her again, her stomach in complete knots. Had he ever looked this good? I mean he's always been unfairly handsome but… Fucking shite, what the hell was happening to her anymore? What kind of hormonal high was she currently cruising on? She tried to will even an ounce of shame, even a smidge of guilt into her body over loving every second of this moment, but found that she really, truly could not.
"Do we have a wager?"
"Sure. If you want to leave the fate of our dates up to chance like that, be my guest."
He studied her over the rim of his glass, clearly mulling over his next few words. "You know, you don't really fit in Gryffindor."
Lily chewed her meal a little more slowly, the peppercorn sauce suddenly tasting extra salty in her mouth. She avoided his gaze. "What do you mean?" The twinkling lights on the shore floated on by as they leisurely sailed along the coast.
"It's not an insult, Lils. I just… think you know you should have been sorted elsewhere." Her eyes snapped to his. How does he know? "With me."
She had to know. This had truly gone too far. "How do you know everything about me—?"
"Tomorrow. I'll tell you tomorrow." He offered it so easily, with almost no prompting that she felt compelled to believe him. It was like the time he had told her he would explain his map, and then had. Tomorrow, I can wait until then. "But this one's fairly easy. I've said it before and I'll say it again: we're one in the same."
"So how do you know you shouldn't have been a Gryffindor?"
He gave her a hurried, disbelieving glance, slicing his own cut of steak. "Lily…" he said, voice dripping with the undertone, 'Come on, now.' It wasn't the first time she'd wondered how his life would have turned out if maybe he'd just had better influences. "Even down to the basics, you just don't belong there. You've barely ever made any friends," he wasn't saying it like a jibe, but her skin bristled all the same, "in fact, your first friend in school was actually a Slytherin — terrible choice that he was." Lily snorted, grabbing for her champagne flute, figuring she'd need more alcohol for this conversation. "Your best subject is taught by my Head of House. You're one of us, you always have been — you should have been."
"Those things are superficial in the face of choice, Potter."
He carried on, undeterred, "You're cunning, you're ruthless, you're willing to do whatever it takes to get a job done, even if it includes toying with a man's heart." Lily swallowed a lump down her throat, drowning it in booze as he shot her a fresh grin. "You think most people are into the kind of stuff that we are?"
Lily let out a sigh of relief, grateful to be handed a point on which she could pivot. "I don't think the sorting hat is baking sexual proclivities into their decision—"
"You don't think that what turns us on is a reflection of our personalities?"
Merlin, I hope not. Lily was fairly certain that what she desired in the bedroom was completely removed from the type of woman that she was. Stop being ashamed, it's not like what I want is even that bad. Her head tilted with a new realization. "Also, you make it sound like sexual compatibility is the most important aspect of a relationship."
He chuckled and leaned into the table, perching his elbows on the edge. "I don't. But I think it definitely helps."
She'd bite. She leant in as well, mirroring him. "So what do you think is the most important part then?"
His eyes dipped to her collarbone, taking his time dragging them up, making love to every part of her he touched with his gaze. Lily repressed a shiver. "Chemistry," he told her sultrily. "Which I'd say we have in droves, don't you think?" It was hard to argue with him when she was literally being forced to cross one leg over the other in order to regain her composure. He nudged his chin up. "How am I doing by the way?"
The question caught her completely off guard. "Huh?"
"With this interview you're putting me through. Am I passing?"
So I asked a few questions. Big deal, diva. "Excuse me if I don't see why exactly you're still after me."
It was James' turn to be utterly thrown off kilter by a question. "What?"
Fuck it, she wanted to know, she didn't care if it was practically fishing for compliments: "Why do you like me?" She licked her lips and hurriedly, fumblingly, tacked on, "I thought maybe it was to get secrets out of me when you figured out I was working for the other side—"
"—Like you did—" Ugh, twist the knife.
"—but now…?" She really hoped he'd give her a real answer.
He smiled. He fucking smiled a smile so charming, she felt her insides melt into one useless, garbled blob. "Because you're smart, but you don't stuff it in everyone's face. Because you know the benefit of people underestimating you until it's too late for them." Calculated. "You don't think like other people do; you're always coming at issues from different angles and noticing things that no one else does. That applies to people too — you see things in people that others overlook. And you know exactly the right way to use that, to get in their good graces." Cunning. "Sometimes you just do people the curtesy of seeing them how they actually want to be seen. You're kind, even when people don't deserve it." He chuckled. "Especially when people don't deserve it, almost like you're trying to teach them a little lesson on how you're secretly better than them." Slytherin, he was all but hissing, even through her best qualities. Was there anything in there that she'd actually like to hear? "You're also funny and sassy and full of a fire that others can only wish for. In short, you're fascinating."
"Well, I like that bit," she scoffed, haughtily.
"Also, fuck, are you good at lying. I mean, your blush gives you away sometimes, but you can just bust out a lie like your life depends on it any day of the week. I feel like it might be pathological at this point, but, I swear, sometimes you're so good that you even convince yourself that what you're saying is true—"
"You always told me I was a terrible liar," Lily countered, looking at him skeptically.
He smirked at her. "Well, yes. You're terrible at lying to me. But that with everyone else it's almost second-nature to you, as easy as breathing, is just… impressive." Lily didn't know how to respond to that, but luckily he continued. "So, now that I've sung your praises, dear, do tell me what you love about me."
Fuck it. Lily leaned in and dragged his face over the table, fully intending to fog up his glasses with the intensity of her kiss. His lips tugged up, knowing what she was doing — avoiding the question, fuck, I really don't have any Gryffindor courage, do I? — but he was more than happy to play into her distraction as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss as his own hands came up to cup her cheeks back, his lips and palms shooting little sparks of electricity that burst her veins into flames. She knew that he had that very same fire that he'd seen in her.
He pulled back, still holding her face before him. "Wow, enlightening, baby, truly. But, sort of proving my point that you're down to exploit my weakness—"
She wasn't sure if it was the heat of the moment, or trying to refute his disparaging assessment, but she answered, "Everything." Her eyes went wide with the truth of her words, suddenly feeling trapped: in his grasp, his gaze, on this damn fucking yacht.
He didn't let her panic long, hands letting her go and reaching for her fingers instead. "So you trust me again?" he asked hopefully.
Yes. No. Maybe? Her eyes flickered between his, the hazel never before having projected a more comforting shade of jade. "Not as much as if you quit being a Death Eater." James pulled back, still holding her hands, but sitting straight in his chair. He looked at her seriously. She had to say this, she had to. It sounded like as long as he followed Voldemort, he'd always be in danger — with her side, fuck, maybe even with his own if he kept choosing to be with her. "Leave him."
He shook his head with a snort, looking over the water. "You think you can just do that?"
"Well, I don't know, there's gotta be something—"
"There isn't," he said tersely, turning back to her. He looked cross. "You're asking me to die."
She pulled her hands back, hating the shift in mood, sort of wishing that she hadn't said anything, but knowing it was too important to leave alone. "No. I'm asking you to choose—"
"I already did. I chose you, Lily," he said desperately, running an anxious hand through his hair. "You know that, right? I chose you."
Lily played with the napkin on her lap, not knowing what to say. Had he? It still felt like he'd sort of chosen both — her and Voldemort, and was (at least for the moment) still allowed to. But what happens when Voldemort's patience runs out? She couldn't live on the whims of a psychopath.
James frustratedly continued. "Look, I never asked you to change. To me, you're already perfect. Stubborn and twisted and perfect. My own little viper."
How'd he make everything sound good, in ways that no one else could?
"Lils…" he began unsurely since she had completely stopped talking. "Can we table this until tomorrow and still have fun tonight? Can you do that for me?"
The list of burning questions that they'd address tomorrow was already piling up. But yes, she'd give him this, because truthfully, she wanted the date to continue more than she wanted answers. (And how obsessive was that?)
"How'd you know that spell today?" she asked. She watched as his shoulders relaxed, tension leaving his body as he let out a huge breath, so grateful she was giving him an out for now. Her posture improved, feeling rather pleased with herself.
He took her hand back in his, interlocking their fingers. "I had to do my research after I knew you had a hard time coming. You know, in case my wand trick didn't work." He winked.
"Yeah, I could never actually find that spell in the library."
His brows twitched, looking at her confused. "I told you I invented it?"
Lily's jaw dropped. "Wait, you were serious? I thought you were exaggerating!"
"Why would I need to do that, when I'm as gifted as I am?"
He clearly meant it at least partially as a joke — she hoped — but this was too insane! "Potter, that's— how—?" She could feel her brain stuttering, trying to come up with words. How fucking smart is he?!
He grinned. "You inspire me, Evans." His thumb started trailing up and down hers. "Besides, it was really about time you came, don't you think? I believe you more than earned finally getting it properly given to you."
She was still too busy processing how crazy it was that he'd actually invented a charm for her to appreciate his words. "Teach it to me."
"Ha, no way, love. That's my contingency plan. Gotta make sure you'll always come back to me."
Funny, in order to come back, I'd need to leave.
"Your pleasure is my pleasure, baby." He brought her hand up to his lips, kissing her knuckles.
"Why, because you own it?" Like everything else about me? Lily accepted that the concept thrilled her.
"Nah. Because I need it."
Had everything always been so loud? Were things loud? Or was her brain just as loud as it felt tight, squeezed inside her skull?
So, she might have had too much to drink. But who could blame her when the precursor to imbibing shots had become licking salt off of James Potter's neck — his delicious, now very tangy, neck?
The club might have been a magical one, with go-go dancers floating in the air in purple luminescent bubbles and strobe lights bursting forth from all corners, moving and changing and glowing, seemingly passing through them just as much as the heavy beat of the music, but the booze seemed to skew Muggle. Lily wondered if Potter even realized this, or if he didn't notice cutesy themes in places.
He'd changed into jeans but kept on the same grey button-up that he filled out oh-so-nicely. He looked like sex on a stick and she was chomping at the bit.
She was drinking. He was drinking. Everything was good, everything was right.
They'd barely gotten off the boat after Lily had changed into her silver, backless dress, because after briefly freezing on the spot, his fingers in his hair, James had suddenly found her simply irresistible and started pawing his hands all over her. She'd had to gigglingly push him off, insisting that he'd told her they were going dancing, and she was holding him to his word. She'd wanted this so badly ever since their cancelled double date plans with Sirius and Remus. He'd grumbled but led them away, slipping the bouncer outside the club one of those ridiculous little coin pouches she couldn't believe she was already getting used to so they could skip the massive queue to get through the door. (She made sure not to make eye contact with any of the dozens of people she was cutting in front of.)
And so they were here, sweaty and hot and — how was she supposed to keep it in her knickers now that she knew how James danced? He was even better than her past lustful musings had imagined he'd be: hips demanding yet still supple enough to follow her rhythm, as though he was silently letting her know he'd go any which direction she guided him. His arms often encased her fully, drawing her into him, giving her the stability to grind and roll her body against his, even as her head started spinning with the booze running through her blood, making her heels more and more precarious. His hands roamed, pinching, pulling, playing as he never stopped whispering in her ear how Merlin-damn sexy she was, and how he still couldn't believe she was his.
Truthfully, she couldn't believe he was hers. She'd caught more than a few witches eyeing him appreciatively, and she sure as hell wasn't above making a big show of wrapping her arms around his large shoulders and claiming him with a showy snog or two (especially after she'd gotten properly tipsy). After she'd sent a second girl a death glare following a hot and heavy kiss, James might have caught on to what she was doing. The realization put him positively on the other side of the moon with glee.
"Easy, baby. You can retract those claws," he whispered in her ear after she'd spun back around and continued dancing, arse pressing into him in a way she'd gleaned that he loved. She would do absolutely no such thing — the claws were staying out, thank you very much. He chuckled like he saw it written in her profile. "I need to go to the loo," he told her, grin radiant as his teeth sunk into Lily's shoulder from behind, palm pressing on her crotch. They'd started off with more innocent touches, but their propriety had long since flown out the window after a couple songs, groping each other more and more, trying to see what they could get away with in public. (The great thing about the music being so loud was no one else could hear her when Lily started moaning as he'd massaged her breasts in time with the beat as they swayed in the middle of the packed dance floor.) Lily was fairly certain James was basically using her body to hide the raging erection he'd had for the past hour. "Will you be okay?"
Lily lolled her head back, resting it against his chest. "Yes." She winked up at him. "I'll just go to the bar."
"Dangerous…" he muttered, leaning in to kiss her, practically upside down. He left a little kiss on the tip of her nose. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
"Got it, so fucking this entire club is still on the table," she teased.
He slapped her ass but laughed, pulling back from her and readjusting himself. "Minx."
Lily watched him walk away, a little less gracefully than usual, most certainly checking out his tight tush as she bit her lip before stumbling to the bar herself.
She was alone all of five seconds before a wizard approached her. "Can I buy you a drink?"
"No thanks," she tried brushing him off, but the man was persistent (Your funeral…), continuing to offer her options until she saw James coming back, finding her instantly. His face cracked into a devious smile, not at all surprised as he saw her predicament, his eyes all but telling her, 'I left you alone for one minute… and look at this.' She knew he was watching her as he got the bartender's attention and ordered himself a fresh shot. "On second thought, yes. You may," she told the stranger.
The blond bloke looked overjoyed, thinking all his corny pickup lines had finally won her over, ordering something sugary sweet for her in a martini glass. "So, what does this get me?" he asked as the bartender placed the cocktail in front of her.
"I'm not sure," she said, taking an innocent sip, her eyes continually slipping to James over his shoulder. He seemed to take it as his cue, stepping around the man, but not saying a single word as he got right behind Lily and moved all her hair over to one shoulder so he could lower his lips to her neck and his hand to her upper thigh. Lily had to bite the glass rim of her martini as she felt his fingers racily drag upwards, raising the hem of her dress, as if taunting the stranger with just what he could do to her body that the man could never even dream of. As if stating: 'You see this? This is mine. Sucks to be you.' Not content to just eviscerate this man, he drove the point home even harder by wetly licking a trail up the side of her throat before he added a dash of salt to her skin.
She grinned wickedly, still looking at the man whose eyes had turned round as saucers, watching what was unfolding in horror. "Do you think I'm worth only the price of one drink?" She tilted her head to the side, daring him to answer her. The rush of power she felt was incredibly exhilarating.
James chuckled as he placed a lemon wedge between her teeth as they'd done all night, and licked the salt clean off her neck before downing his shot, his face scrunched uncomfortably before spinning Lily to him and roughly grabbing her face in both his palms and pulling her mouth to his, biting into the acidic taste, trying to neutralize the flavor of the tequila. Neither of them even bothered to look if their audience was still there as James spat out the lemon to the floor and the bite proceeded to devolve into a full-on snog against the bar, his hand now hiking the back of her thigh up as the counter dug into her spine.
"I need to get you out of here, baby, I don't know how much longer—" James groaned, his expression pained as he pulled back only the tiniest amount, his lower lip at risk of being bitten off by his own teeth.
Lily wasn't having any that. Those lips were hers to bite. She leaned back in and freed it, giving him a teasing chomp to really drive the message home. His pupils dilated even further as his tongue tentatively darted out to check for blood, finding none. "Done. Take me back, James."
They were too tipsy, and too riled up for this joint anyway. Despite her words, Lily was still the one who grabbed his forearm and started dragging him out of the club, wanting James to be able to relish in how all eyes followed her during their exit, wanting to give him that possessive thrill that she was his. He was the one taking the girl everyone had their eyes on home, and he was the one who got to reach down and squeeze her arse without getting slapped in the face. (And yes, it was also quite awesome for Lily to see the faces of all the girls who'd wanted him throughout the night look dejectedly their way as they slipped out the back door. Sue her.)
He pulled her under his arm when they hit the chilly outside air, drawing his wand to do a heating spell since there had really been no place for hers in this outfit. "Fuck, that was—"
"Hot," Lily finished for him, giving his hip a pinch. She remembered the words he'd said in the boutique clear as day, even if everything else was a jumbled, hazy mess. 'We'll make love later, yeah?' God, she hoped that was still the plan.
She guessed it all depended on whether or not they got back to the yacht or not. There was just something about the cold night air that seemed to be making the alcohol in both of their systems hit them even harder.
"I was going to say amazing, just like everything about you, but hot works too."
Oh yeah, she'd nearly forgotten: drunk James was an absolute lovey-dovey marshmallow.
Next Chapter: The Reveal
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