"Lily, dear, what was that?" Mona looks at Lily with wide eyes as James Potter walks away from the center of the baking tent.

"What was what?" Lily's voice is shallow, almost breathless as she stands rooted to the spot.

"Did Mr. Potter just wink at you?"

And flirted too, yes.

"I'm sure he was only being polite."

Mona's prying questions are enough to snap Lily out of her daze. She knows full well that she won't be able to keep up the aloofness forever, but she needs to try so that she can process the last conversation with Mr. Potter on her own first. His clarification about the glitter has done nothing to clear the air, or her confusion, for that matter. If anything, the lines are even more muddled now.

All his talk of texture and creaminess sounded like he was speaking about the glittery sugar sprinkled over the cheesecake, but the suggestive glint in those dreamy hazel eyes told another story. Lily could almost imagine the reflection of her shimmery bra enhancing the gold specks in his irises as he spoke, and her heart beat double time at the thought of him drinking in the show she gave him during her presentation.

Did that mean he liked what he saw?

It doesn't matter, Lily. Snap out of it. You know what his type is like, and it doesn't matter if he's too sexy for his own good.

The warring voices in her head are threatening to sweep Lily away from reality. Instead of giving in to the growing desires she feels for the petulant man, she zeroes in on his persistent negative qualities to keep her arousal at bay. Lily reminds herself nothing good can ever come of showing interest in a wealthy man, and as if that isn't enough to drive her away, the added bonus of his arrogance should be enough to make Lily walk away and never look back. But it's easier said than done.

Why can't I shake the thought of him?

She's not going to dwell on the ever-present question as she follows Mona back to Howard. Petunia is now standing at his side, gaping at her sister while holding two cups of coffee in her hand.

How convenient.

"What was that?" Petunia thrusts Lily's cup into her hand.

Of course, Petunia returned just in time to catch the last bit of the supposed show that Mona insisted Lily and Mr. Potter gave. And because she's always butting her nose into other people's business, she's bouncing with anticipation at more juicy gossip. Lily sends a silent prayer, hoping Mona will keep her mouth shut about earlier as she chooses to feign ignorance.

"What do you mean?"

"What do I—Lily, did you not see the way that judge was ogling you?"

"Honestly," Lily huffs, "between you and Mona. I don't know what either of you saw, but Mr. Potter was simply awarding me my ribbon and prize money, which I won runner-up, by the way. You both must be seeing things because nothing happened. He was a perfect gentleman, professional and cordial."

And also a cocky prat.

"Nothing happened? Nothing happened? Lilykins, I know I missed the tasting, but I arrived just in time for the awards ceremony. I heard all of the winner announcements. It just took me a moment to find you so I could come join! You weren't by your baking station, you know. And I'm not sure if you noticed, but you were the only one he addressed by name. Do not tell me that was nothing!" Petunia shrieks.

Lily does her best to hush her sister back down to normal levels as her mind frantically thinks of a response. She had no idea her sister had returned for all that, and in truth, she had noticed him calling her Miss Evans, but she was so surprised to hear herself being named runner-up that she didn't think anything of it.

"I—I don't know," Lily throws her hands in the air, giving up the attempt of finding an excuse for what went on.

Because in reality, she didn't know what happened. It's clear from Mona and Petunia's reaction that it looked like a lot more than nothing, but Lily wasn't ready to admit that.

"He seemed rather smitten with you," Mona says with a knowing look.

Okay, while Lily wasn't entirely sure what had transpired with Mr. Potter—

No, Potter will do. We're around the same age—there's no reason I should have to address him as 'Mister.' It's not like he's better than me or anything.

Whatever transpired with Potter was a far cry from him being smitten with her.

Lily scoffs in response. "Absolutely not! You weren't there during my tasting. He was disgusted by everything about me. My lateness, my overcomplication of ingredients in a name, the fact that I garnished it with glitter—oh! And God forbid I ask him to call me by my name and not 'mint cheesecake brownie!"

She can feel herself getting all riled up again by the audacity in how James Potter spoke to her. The competition was supposed to lift her spirits, not put her in a sour mood because of yet another wealthy man who thinks he's better than everybody else.

"Oh, Lily, you didn't!" Petunia groans.

"Ah, but she did!" Mona interjects, "and it was bloody brilliant if I do say so myself. I don't know what got into him. The judges are always respectful and address the contestants by name when they are judging the tasting. It's less common for them to address us by name during the winner's circle, but your insistence about Mr. Potter using your name makes sense now, Lily."

"See, Petunia? It was just another way for Potter to get a jab in. Thank you, Mona." Lily relaxes and takes a long sip of her mocha after Mona comes to her defense, quashing Petunia's opening to berate her for being 'improper.' The hints of dark chocolate paired with espresso taste like heaven after the afternoon she's endured.

"If you say so," Petunia acknowledges Mona's logic but rolls her eyes at Lily in the same breath. "I'm Petunia, by the way, Lily's sister."

In all the commotion of the winner's ceremony and everyone's attention on her second interaction with Potter, Lily forgot to introduce Petunia to Mona and Howard.

"Right, sorry! Mona, Howard, this is Petunia. Petunia, this is Mona Sprout and Howard..."

"Clarke! Lovely to meet you, dear. Lily has been a wonderful welcome to Northern Ireland for us today," Mona smiles as she shakes Petunia's hand.

"Yes, Mona's here on business from England!"

"That's wonderful. Welcome! You aren't flying back tonight, are you? We're going out for Lily's thirtieth birthday this evening, and I'm sure Lily would love for you to join us!" Petunia lowers her voice and adds, "And then you can fill me in on what I missed during the tasting."

"Hey!" Lily protests but is ignored as Petunia continues with the details.

"We're heading to dinner at the Three Broomsticks downtown. It's a small gathering, but I'm sure Lily would be tickled pink if you and Howard joined us."

Lily eyes Petunia, knowing full well she's just after the gossip. Though, Petunia is not one to extend a party invitation after it's already been planned unless she likes and respects the people she's adding, so that's a relief. And Lily isn't going to complain since she's taken a quick liking to Mona and Howard and is eager to learn more about them.

"That would be wonderful! Thank you, Petunia," Mona accepts the invitation with pleasure before adding, "I was just about to ask Howard what we should do for the evening, so thank you for saving us an hour of 'I don't care, you pick.' And a very happy birthday to you, Lily!"

"Oh, thanks," Lily says with little enthusiasm.

"Don't fret now, thirty isn't so bad! It was my favorite decade by far!" Mona reassures her. "It was during that decade that Howard and I met and went into business together!"

Lily offers a weak smile, thankful for her kind encouragement. She's not convinced that Mona would be saying the same thing if she knew the details of the dumpster fire Lily's life is in right now. A comfortable silence settles amongst the foursome, and Lily uses the opening to change the subject before someone brings up Potter again. Checking her watch, she sees that it's time to go and gets everyone moving.

"Well, what are we waiting for? There's a reservation with our name on it!"

An hour later, Lily finds herself seated at a long wooden table in the back of The Three Broomsticks, her favorite pub in Belfast, situated along the Lagan River. Under the impression that it would be a small gathering, Lily insisted to Petunia that she didn't need to go home to freshen up from her morning of baking and the competition that followed.

Cue her shock when they show up to the restaurant and her best friends Mary and Marlene are there, along with her assistant—er, former assistant—Remus, who'd been apprenticing with her over the last year while he finished culinary school. After the shit week she's had, spending an evening with her closest confidantes is more than she could ask for.

Lily listens to the conversation flowing around her while observing the obscene decorations that Marlene and Mary outfitted for their table. There are two large gold foil balloons tied to her chair, one in the shape of a '3' and the other an '0'. The manager of the pub allowed them to hang up a banner that says 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY LILY' on the wall behind their table, and confetti shaped in tiny silver and gold champagne bottles are sprinkled over the table. As if the numbers weren't enough, there was a small wooden sign that Mary—who specialized in calligraphy and stationery design—created that said 'talk thirty to me' in elegant, swoopy letters.

Other diners probably think it's too much, but knowing how both Marlene and Mary have a penchant for parties and decorating, Lily knows this is tame. If she's being honest, she's just glad they didn't go for other common themes for a person entering their third decade: 'over the hill,' 'dirty 30' or a death day theme.

"...and then, Mr. Potter winked at her!" Mona is bringing Lily's friends up to speed on what they missed, much to her chagrin.

"Oh, honestly, this again? Can we all just let it go? I really don't understand why you're so intrigued by it, Mona."

"Well, it's just that Mr. Potter has been England's most eligible bachelor for some time now. Forgive me if his actions this afternoon struck me as peculiar."

"Which means he's free to wink at whoever he wants, but you're sadly mistaken if you think I was an eager recipient."

Despite her best efforts to remain cool, Lily can feel the heat creeping up her neck and onto her cheeks. Marlene, Mary, and Petunia all look on with interest while Remus busies himself in conversation with Howard about the financial sides of running a pastry shop. The air is thick with tension as Lily stands her ground and refuses to give more details of her private conversation with Potter. Instead, she turns to Mona and asks the question that's piqued her curiosity for the last few hours.

"So, what is it that you do, Mona? You said you've been traveling a lot for work, right?"

Mona takes the bait, and Lily sees the other girls relax. "Yes, yes! I have a few signature items that I sell commercially and am looking to expand to the Irish market. I had a couple of meetings with some businesses yesterday and happened to see there was an opening in the competition today. So, I convinced Howard to stay one more night and arrived at the tent early to utilize the equipment."

"Signature items?" Lily cocks her head to the side, her mind trying to piece together this new information.

"Oh, yes. Local shops throughout England sell my coffee cakes, cinnamon rolls, and croissants, and around the holidays, the bakery pushes out yule logs as well," she explains further.

Remus's ears perk up, and he turns to Mona, his head swivelling back and forth between her and Howard. "Wait, you're the owners of Puff's Pastries, aren't you?"

His eyes are wide in surprise, and for good reason. Lily's only heard of Puff's Pastries from culinary school, and it's always been a bucket list item to visit the flagship store in London someday. The shop is highly respected among the UK's culinary scene, and everyone always has kind words to say about the owners, who Lily just so happened to befriend earlier today.

What are the chances?

"Yes, lad, I do. Though, I'm in need of a new head pastry chef to begin taking over for me as I'm nearing retirement."

"And you deserve to take a step back and enjoy your life!" Howard sweet-talks, making Mona blush.

"Thanks, dear, but you and I both know that's not true."

"Will you have any other openings in a few months?" Remus interrupts their adorable banter, "I'm in my last semester of culinary school and—oh, er, sorry, Lily. But you understand, don't you? It's Puff's Pastries."

Lily can't help the laugh that escapes her lips at Remus's starstruck glee. "Of course not, Rem—hell, I'll be right there with you if Mona says the word."

She's two drinks in and doesn't realize she slipped up until confusion plasters everyone's faces, save for Petunia's wince.

"But I thought Gingersnaps was opening in two weeks...your very own bakery! Everything you've worked for over the last five years." Remus's questions are valid, considering he is supposed to have a job working right beside her.

Lily's fingertips reach up to massage her temple. "Right. About that—we lost our funding, Remus. I can't afford the rent on my own, let alone the financing on all the equipment we'll need. I'm sorry…"

She feels terrible. It feels worse knowing she's letting him down than it does to see her friends and sister look at her with sad, sympathetic expressions. Lily doesn't want their pity. She just wants all the arrogant, rich men in the world to throw themselves off a cliff.

"Lily, I'm so sorry, we didn't know," Mary reaches a hand across the table to pat her arm.

"Yeah, Lil, if you need an extra gig to help save up, I'm sure we could use your help on the floor," Marlene adds.

While Mary works in stationery design, Marlene manages one of the most popular bridal shops in Dublin. The three girls always joked that they should go into wedding planning given all their specialties within the business, but with Marlene being two hours away, they knew it was more wishful thinking than a reality.

"Thanks, Marly, but I'm going to meet with the landlord one more time to see if I can plead my case. Plus, you know I can't commute the two hours if I still have orders I can fulfill for clients at home."

Mary opens her mouth, no doubt to ask about him, but Lily gives an imperceptive shake of her head, a plea to not bring him up.

"Well, if no one wants to trust in your talents here, you are more than welcome to come work with me," Mona offers, bringing the mood back up with her cheery disposition. "You know I could use the help."

"Mona, you're so sweet, thank you."

Lily shares a grateful smile. The thought of working with Mona is appealing, but Lily isn't naive enough to believe that the prospect could ever happen. Mona is being polite, and it's one of those offers that's never meant to be followed through.

"You're welcome, Lily. Now, I need to run to the loo. Howard, would you be a dear and order another round of drinks from the bar?"

Howard nods and pushes his chair back to stand up while Mona zig-zags her way through the chairs and tables.

"Twenty years as her business partner and Chief Financial Officer, but you tell me who's the boss of who." There's a sparkle in Howard's eye as he walks away.

Lily's envious of the partnership Howard and Mona have, and more than anything, wishes she could find that in someone. Remus has always been a great help in the kitchen, but the relationship is strictly mentor/mentee, with a strong dose of friendship. No, her dream partner would have to share the same passion for baking, with a knack for creativity that would leave them open to trying even her most outrageous flavor combinations. Someone who isn't afraid to go toe to toe with her when Lily's temper gets the best of her but whose support in her passion is unyielding. Someone like…

No.

Just when she thinks she has finally pushed James Potter out of her mind, the image of his smoulder appears as bright and as vivid as the gel dyes she uses to color her icings. But the thought of Potter in this respect is laughable. She may not know much about him, but she knows enough to understand that they would be the most incompatible couple she could ever think of. Which is a shame, really, because he's just so damn sexy—

"Earth to Lily!" Marlene snaps her fingers in front of Lily's face.

"What?"

"I asked you a question. Were you even paying attention?" Mary rolls her eyes. "I asked how it feels to be crowned Miss Runner-Up of Belfast?"

Lily absent-mindedly reaches for the ribbon still pinned to her chest. The silk is soft against her fingers as they graze over the screen-printed words. "Well, it certainly makes me feel better about the whole situation with the bakery falling through."

"But I thought you'd come to an agreement to all of his demands?" Remus's brow furrows as he tries to make sense of the ordeal once again.

"So did I, until he proposed a last-minute addition," Lily grumbles as she twirls the pink twisty straw around the bobbing ice in her mixed drink.

"And that couldn't be negotiated?" Mary sounds hopeful, but Lily's hard stare and curl of her lip give more of a resounding 'no' than any spoken word could.

"I don't want to talk about it anymore. Please, guys, let's just enjoy my belated birthday dinner. Thinking about that slimeball or my dreams going up in flames is the last thing I want to do."

"Then maybe you should turn your attention to that hot piece of man that just walked up to the hostess stand," Marlene says, nudging Lily and wiggling her eyebrows.

Lily rolls her eyes at one of her best friends as the other wipes the drool away from her mouth. Remus shrinks down into his seat, no doubt uncomfortable at the girls ogling a hot stranger. Marlene makes a show of fanning herself, piquing Petunia's curiosity. Lily's sister lets out a loud gasp as she turns in her chair to take in the man who has just arrived. It doesn't take much to admit to herself that she could absolutely use the distraction of a fine-looking guy to help her forget all her troubles and worries. Except, when she looks up…

You've got to be kidding me.

It's not a hot stranger. Well, it is to the rest of the table, but not to Lily.

"Is that Mr. Potter?" Petunia hisses.

"No way," Mary bangs her hands on the table, causing the drinks to shake and the water glasses to come dangerously close to spilling over.

Lily's entire body tenses as she glowers at her friend's embarrassing behavior.

"I think he's coming over here," Petunia whips back around in her chair, warning the rest of them. "And who is that girl with him?"

At the mention of the word 'girl', Lily notices Remus sit up a little straighter and crane his neck to catch a glimpse at the pair. Lily follows his eye line to a young woman who looks to be around Remus's age, maybe a year or two younger. Her heart drops to her stomach to see a spritely girl with a wrinkle-free face and bubblegum pink hair.

An unbecoming snort escapes her mouth. She knew it. She knew he wasn't flirting with her. Not that she'd pegged him for the type to go for a punk rocker who barely looked like she passed the age for legality, but at this point, nothing surprises her anymore. If he's really a billionaire like Mona said, he could be with whoever he wants, and if that's what he wanted, then she can rub the 'I told you so' in every single one of their faces.

That doesn't explain your own disappointment, though.

Was she disappointed? Of course not! She couldn't be, not after two less than stellar interactions with the man.

"Get it together, Lils," Mary warns, "he's approaching in four, three, two, one…"

"Miss Evans, what a surprise," James greets the woman who hasn't left his mind since the end of the competition earlier that day.

"Mr. Potter," she spits out. "I didn't know you liked to frequent such common establishments."

James narrows his eyes at Evans's retort. He assumes it's because he's still in his formal wear that he wore for judging earlier today, and that's only because Dora insisted she was starving and they needed to get dinner straight away. She hadn't even given him a chance to take a cold shower to melt away his steamy thoughts of the redheaded contestant. James was only just getting past the hot and bothered state he left the venue in, only to run into the minx again.

He chooses to ignore her jab and opt for clipped politeness instead. "Well, Dora was in the mood for pub food, and the hotel recommended this as one of the best in the area."

The woman to Miss Evans's left holds up her glass in agreement, "Well, they weren't wrong!"

"Please forgive Marlene, she has no manners," Evans shoots daggers at her friend, who giggles in response.

James also lets out a small bark of a laugh at her retort. "It's no problem, Miss Evans. I'm sure your friend is simply trying to have a good time and celebrate the occasion. Are birthday wishes in order?"

Dora looks up at him, giving James her signature disgusted teenager expression, but he ignores her. Instead, he gives off a warning glare for her to keep her mouth shut before waiting for Miss Evan's response, but it's another friend—or maybe sister?—that answers.

"Yes! We're celebrating Lily's thirtieth. I'm Petunia, Lily's sister," the woman closest to him holds out her hand in greeting.

Ah, sister.

"Thanks, Tuney, but I think it's obvious."

"Hey, don't knock our decorations! We worked hard on those," the female friend that's not Marlene states.

"Just you wait until it's your thirtieth birthday, Mare," Evans says before returning her embarrassed gaze back up to James.

"Well, I think it's wonderful that you've got friends and family to join you for the occasion."

James looks around the table again, and that's when he notices a young man who looks close to Dora's age playing with the edge of his napkin in an attempt to look busy.

"Yes, very lucky indeed."

The new, though familiar voice James hears belongs to Ms. Sprout, the winner of Miss Evans's category, who is approaching the table to no doubt rejoin the group. Her voice distracts most of the table, and James catches the boy stealing a glance at Dora, who seems equally smitten upon a quick glance between the two.

"Ms. Sprout, it's a pleasure to see you again," James nods.

"And you, as well!"

"Well, if it isn't a reunion of sorts," Marlene winks at the assumption. "Maybe we can pull two more chairs around for them to join us. What do you think, Lily?"

"Oh, no, we couldn't impose," James says, much to Dora's dismayed look.

"Yes, we wouldn't want to keep him and Dora from a nice, quiet evening, now would we?"

An awkward silence falls over the table as Ms. Sprout's companion returns with a tray full of drinks. While there is a burning desire to ask Evans what she means by her statement, James decides that now is an opportune time to take his leave. He can tell when he's not wanted.

"Well, it was a pleasure meeting all of you. Miss Evans, I hope you enjoy your birthday festivities."

He turns and escorts a pouting Dora away until they settle into the booth that the host set aside for them.

"Why couldn't we join them?" Dora asks as she slides onto the bench that faces the table they were just visiting.

"Because we barely know them, and it would be rude."

"So?"

Perhaps he should have taken that spot. He watches Dora's eyes linger on the sandy-haired 'kid', whose name he didn't catch. James knows he's hardly a kid, but he can't help the protective feeling that rises within him when it comes to Dora and dating. She's always been an easy, laidback teen and not particularly interested in the dating scene. James is aware he's had it easy when it comes to her guardianship, and the only comforting thought about the way she's looking at the bloke right now is knowing that she'll never see him after tonight. Just like he'll never see Evans again, so a little harmless staring probably wouldn't hurt.

Even still, he attempts to draw her back into conversation. "Dora, it's done. Now, why don't you stop staring at that boy and look at your menu instead?"

"I'm not staring!" she defends, "and all I'm saying is that maybe we both could have had an enjoyable evening with a group of other people tonight instead. I know you're interested in that redhead. There's no use hiding it."

Damn it. Why does she have to be so observant?

"I'm not hiding anything."

"So you do fancy her, then?"

James sighs, "Yes, I find her attractive. But she lives here, and we live in London. The chances of me ever seeing her again after tonight are slim to none, and for the best. In case you haven't noticed, she's repulsed by the very sight of me."

Dora shoots him an inquisitive look. "I don't know about that."

"Dora," James warns.

His mood is growing tiresome, and he doesn't have the patience left to deal with her nagging. Maybe a drink will help his souring mood as he listens to the echoes of laughter coming from the birthday celebrations behind him. As if their server has read James's mind, she appears out of thin air, like a genie to grant one of three wishes. Not that he'd be stupid enough to waste a wish on a drink. Regardless, he orders the tallest Peroni they have on tap. The server looks at Dora, and James can tell by the look on her face that she wants to test the waters but ultimately settles for a Coke.

"Can we get an order of the breaded mushrooms as a starter as well?" Dora asks.

The server nods before scurrying away to place the order, and James relaxes against the high back of the bench. He wonders what Dora got up to on her own today since she didn't want to come to the competition. Opening his mouth to ask, he clamps it shut and scowls once he realizes her eyes have drifted back over to the table.

"It's impolite to stare, you know."

"Oh, get off your high horse. Why do you have to act so prim and proper when we're in public? It's annoying."

"Because I have to uphold the image of the Potter name. It comes with being the only heir, or have you forgotten?"

He sounds bored at the explanation, but that's because Dora's heard it time and time again. Who James is at home isn't the same person he portrays in public. That lesson was learned time and time again at Uni.

Ah, gone were the good old days.

But that was back when his father was still alive. Fleamont was always more forgiving than his wife, and everyone knew it. When his father died, the expectation of James taking over the family fortune set in, and James's fun outings came to an end. There was no way he could pretend he was someone else for the sake of a good time anymore. Not if he wanted to jeopardize the family fortune or give his mum a stroke.

"Besides, do you want to feel the wrath of Euphemia if the press catches me in an uncompromising position? Because I'd tell her you made me do it."

Dora snorts out the water she was sipping on. "Yeah, right. You would never!"

The comment is enough to draw Dora back into the conversation and away from staring, but that doesn't stop her from pestering him with questions about them.

"So, what's her story then?"

"Who?"

"Don't be daft! The redhead."

"How should I know?"

"Because of the way all her friends and sisters kept staring back and forth between the two of you. Something happened, now spill."

"One, I don't take orders from an eighteen-year-old, and two, nothing happened."

Because she didn't want it to. Or did she? No, she definitely didn't.

James is tempted to pull out his cell and call his best friend. Sirius always knows how to gauge a situation, and he has a knack for helping James pick out which women were both into him and wouldn't become too clingy. But he can't talk to him right now, not while he's at dinner with Dora and almost within earshot of the very woman he's trying to understand.

The server returns with their drinks, and they place their orders. Satisfied by the notion that the alcohol will ease his tension, he takes a long swig, downing half the drink in one go.

"Wow. You're not really helping your case here," Dora's eyes are full of judgment and mirth as she observes his motions.

"And you aren't helping yours."

Dora throws her hands back in surrender. "I'm just saying! If that one woman has got you this tied up in knots, then maybe you should make a move. Sirius says—"

"I know what Sirius says," James snaps, "but I came here to judge a baking competition and to take you sightseeing. This isn't a free getaway for me to hook up with some random woman, and this isn't a conversation you and I should be having!"

He's known Dora her entire life. She's the sister he never had, and her wittiness blends in so well with his sense of humor and his best friend's sarcastic charm that sometimes it's easy to forget that she is his responsibility. His goddaughter, and not his friend. And guardians didn't discuss their intimate lives with their child, regardless of age.

"Fine, we don't have to talk about it!" James is about to breathe a sigh of relief, thinking she's going to drop the subject, but then she leans in and uses a conspiring whisper to suggest, "but asking her out for a drink later can't hurt, though, can it? I'd be happy to stock up on junk food and rent a movie at the hotel if you want a few hours to yourself. Don't take too long to think about it, though, or you'll miss your chance."

If it was any other woman, maybe. But there is something about Lily Evans that tells him it would be a bad idea. That he shouldn't engage. Keeping her at a distance would be in his best interest, no matter how intrigued he is by her.

It's because she's already proven how much she despises you.

There's no point in going after a woman, only to be shot down. Asking her out would give her the opportunity to break the stalemate and let her win whatever game they are playing. For whatever reason, James can't bear the thought. Not when he's had the upper hand all day. No, it's better to just let it go. This second run-in doesn't mean anything, and it's better to forget her alluring smile and the way she turns her nose up at him in distaste. It'd be easier to fantasize about the 'what could have been' rather than be turned down.

Making up his mind, he takes another gulp of his Peroni and sets it down on the table with an air of finality. Before he loses his nerve, James clears his throat and uses his well-practiced business voice to end his goddaughter's relentless insistence once and for all.

"Enough, Dora. There is nothing exceptional about Miss Evans that would make me want to pursue anything more. She is simply an acquaintance, if you can even call it that. Nothing more, nothing less. There is nothing you can say or do to convince me otherwise, so let it go."

The more he speaks, the wider Dora's eyes become, and the rosy tint that dons her cheeks pales. He knows it is a cheap shot to employ the stricter side of him as a means to stop her campaign of his love life, but it's not like he's never used it before. Usually, Dora would huff and pout and move on, knowing she wasn't going to win. Or she'd go to Sirius, but that isn't an option this time since he is back in London. So, why does she look uncomfortable and hurt?

"Er…"

Dora doesn't have to say anything more. A flash of red hair catches James's eye, and it doesn't take long for his brain to put the pieces together. His entire body buzzes, and though James assumes it's from the alcohol, he recognizes that it is the same feeling that swept over him when he and Evans were in close proximity during judging.

It feels like a magnet pulling him toward her, except his words have changed the polarity and caused him to push her away instead, sending a deep wave of regret coursing through him. He watches her cross the room, hoping at the very least that she didn't hear her name roll off his lips. But the thought is feeble, and he knows it. Unable to tear his eyes away from her retreating form, he continues to watch, hoping she'll give him some indication that perhaps everything is okay.

And then, finally, she does look up, throwing the briefest of glances in his direction. James wills her to understand that he'd only said it all in frustration, that she is far from unexceptional, but it was to no avail.

Though she only offers him the tiniest glimpse, it is enough to see the hurt he's caused.