Sunday, March 19, 1978

James stood in front of the mirror, frowning at his reflection. He raked a hand through his hair, scowling at the result and attempting to flatten the untidy black strands. The buttons on his shirt caught his eye, and he stared at the mirror for a moment before buttoning the top button. No, I look like a tosser, he thought, sighing and undoing the button once again. Now I look like a sloppy arsehole who just slept with his secretary and couldn't be bothered to finish doing up his shirt. He sighed and turned to Sirius.

"Pads, this is no good. My clothes are all wrong and I know I'm going to make an arse of myself and Evans is going to regret ever inviting me." He checked his watch and groaned. "And I'm supposed to be there in five minutes. I can't do it. I can't fucking go."

Sirius grinned and shook his head. "Prongs, for fuck's sake." He lit a cigarette, then handed one to James. "Here."

"Mum's not going to be pleased," James said, taking the cigarette and holding it between his fingers without lighting it. "And you know I don't smoke during the Quidditch season, especially now when I fucked up the last match so badly. And what if Evans's parents don't approve of smoking? I can't show up there stinking of cigarettes – they're going to hate me." He turned back to the mirror and inspected his belt, wondering if it matched his shoes even though it was a slightly darker shade of brown.

"I'm pretty sure Evans said her parents both smoke," Sirius said with a careless shrug. "Either way, it doesn't matter. You're going to smoke this cigarette with me because you need to calm the fuck down. They're going to love you, because Evans loves you, and parents always love you, and you're a likable person, except for when you're staring at your reflection unbuttoning and rebuttoning your shirt like a lunatic." He led the way over to James's bed and sat down, then patted the mattress beside him. "Come on, sit down or I'm hexing you."

James tore his gaze away from the mirror and sat down next to Sirius, then lit the cigarette and

took a long drag. An instant sense of relief washed over him as some of the frenzied panic ebbed away. He took a deep breath as he watched the smoke curl up toward the ceiling.

"Better, right?" Sirius said, smirking when James nodded his agreement. "Told you. I'd offer you a drink, too, but I'm sure you have some moral objection to showing up with firewhisky on your breath."

"Something tells me that wouldn't make the right impression," James said after exhaling another long stream of smoke. "But I appreciate the thought." He ran a hand through his hair, reversing whatever flattening effect his last attempt had achieved, and glanced sideways at Sirius. "I know you think I'm an idiot, but will you just tell me if I should do up this bloody button or not?"

Sirius studied the top of his shirt. "Actually, I think you should undo the second button as well. Show a bit of chest hair, you know?"

James kicked him. "You're an idiot."

"What? Mary's mum would love it if I showed up with my shirt half buttoned."

"That's because she wants to shag you," James said, rolling his eyes. "If Mr. and Mrs. Evans start undressing me with their eyes, I'll have bigger problems than the buttons on my shirt."

Sirius blew out a stream of smoke and shrugged. "Don't rule it out. Evans is a good looking girl, so I assume her parents are also good looking people."

James chuckled. "Bloody hell, you're obnoxious. Although maybe you should come with me and make your stupid little comments. It'll make me look good by comparison."

"Nah, I disagree. I think they'll be so taken with me that they'll beg Evans to ditch your sorry arse and start dating me instead." Sirius smirked and swung his legs up onto the bed, scooting backward to lean against James's pillows. "Besides, I'm going to listen to the Cannons vs. Harpies match with Dad, even though the Cannons are probably going to lose and Dad's going to rub it in my face."

"That is one of his favorite pastimes," James said, grinning. He checked his watch, then heaved a sigh and got to his feet. "I should go. Thanks for talking me through my moment of panic."

Sirius stretched out to fill the empty mattress space James had vacated and made a dismissive hand gesture, dropping bits of ash onto the duvet. "You're welcome. I wasn't even being nice, to tell you the truth, I just couldn't listen to you ramble any longer or my head would've exploded."

James ignored the ash and flecks of mud from Sirius's boots dotting the duvet and went to the mirror to give his reflection one last look. He hesitated, biting his lip, then buttoned the top button and turned away before he could change his mind.

"You look great, Prongs, minus the unfortunate lack of visible chest hair. They're going to love you. Hell, Evans will probably take one look at you and start tearing your clothes off."

James laughed and pulled his wand from his pocket. "That wouldn't exactly make a good impression, either, although it would probably help me relax." He took one last drag on his cigarette, then dropped it into an ashtray shaped like a Snitch that Sirius had gotten him for Christmas. "See you later."

Sirius slid off the bed, leaving behind a small smear of dirt where his feet had been. "Good luck. You can tell me all about it later. I'm sure I'll still be here, shouting at the radio while Dad laughs at my misery."

James waved goodbye, then turned on the spot and Apparated. He appeared a moment later in Lily's front garden and glanced around to be sure nobody had seen, even though she had assured him the tall fence surrounding the house would hide him from view. His heart pounded as he stood surveying the house, his hands shoved into his pockets. Through a window he caught a glimpse of dark red hair, and the sight of Lily gave him courage. He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, then strode up to the door and knocked. The seconds stretched out as he waited on the doorstep, wondering if he had enough time to unbutton that damn top button, and then the door swung open to reveal Lily's smiling face.

"Hi. You look nice," she said, stepping aside and ushering him in. She surveyed his outfit, then reached over and unbuttoned his top button before giving a satisfied nod and pulling him in for a hug. As her arms circled him, his nervousness melted away. Something nudged his leg, and he looked down to see a yellow labrador wagging its tail and nosing against his trousers. Grinning, he released Lily and stroked the dog's head.

"That's Duncan," Lily said, rebuking him when he tried to jump up and rest his paws on James's shoulders. "Sorry, he's a bit friendly."

"Padfoot's going to be jealous," he said, chuckling and brushing dog hair from his shirt.

"I missed you," she said, leaning in to kiss him. "I'm so glad you're here. My parents are really excited to meet you – come into the living room and I'll introduce you."

She took his hand and led him into a cozy living room, while Duncan trotted along behind them and curled up on a worn rug. A man with Lily's exact hair color sat on a worn recliner, watching what James supposed must be a television. When he saw them enter the room, he got to his feet and extended his hand to James.

"Brian Evans. Nice to meet you." He nodded at his wife, who hurried over from the sofa to shake James's hand. She had Lily's eyes and the same brilliant smile. "This is my wife, June."

"James Potter. It's nice to meet you both. Thanks for having me." Some of his nervousness returned as he fumbled for something else to say. He saw Mr. Evans's glance drop lower, and he had an irrational thought that he was noticing the unbuttoned top button. With a sizable effort, he shoved his hands into his pockets to resist the urge to button it again.

"Sorry, we can shut this off," Mrs. Evans said, gesturing at the television. On the screen, a blonde man was announcing the weather. It's going to rain tomorrow, James thought pointlessly.

"James has probably never seen a television before," Lily said, giving his hand a comforting squeeze. "Have you?"

He shook his head and shot her a grateful smile. "No, I haven't. It's sort of mesmerizing, though, isn't it? I feel like I could stare at it for hours." He watched the man on the television point to an illustration of a rain cloud.

"You lot don't have television at all?" Mr. Evans said, shaking his head in astonishment.

"Er, no," James said. "My friend Sirius learned all about television in Muggle Studies class, but I took Ancient Runes instead, because…" He stole a glance at Lily and grinned – he had signed up for Ancient Runes because Lily had signed up for Ancient Runes. "Well, I just never ended up taking Muggle Studies."

"There's a class for that?" Mrs. Evans asked. "How funny. What other sorts of things do they study?"

"All sorts of things," James said as he racked his brain for everything Sirius had told him about his Muggle Studies lessons. "They learn how to use a telephone, and how to pay with Muggle money, and Sirius did a whole project on how motorbikes work, which is how he ended up with a flying motorbike–"

"Your motorbikes fly?" Mr. Evans interrupted, his face alight with eager interest.

"Er, well, technically they're not supposed to, but they can if you know how to Charm them correctly." You bloody idiot. Why would you bring up a story that involves breaking at least five laws?

"I took a ride on it last summer," Lily said, laughing as her father's eyes widened in surprise. "It was actually a lot of fun, once I stopped worrying I was about to die."

"Have you driven it, James?" Mr. Evans asked.

James laughed and shook his head. "I tried once and it was a bloody disaster. I ended up on the ground in about three seconds, and Sirius doesn't trust me enough to let me have another go, which is fine with me, to be honest." He ran a hand through his hair, then grimaced and added, "Sorry for swearing."

Mrs. Evans grinned. "No need to apologize. It'd be a bloody disaster if I tried to drive a motorbike, too. Although is it a bit like riding a bicycle?"

"Well, that's what I hear, but I can't say for sure because I've never actually ridden a bicycle. I spent most of my childhood flying around on a broom."

"That's funny, I'd never thought about that," Lily said, giving his hand another reassuring squeeze. "I could teach you, if you like. I'll try not to laugh at you when you fall down, but I can't promise anything." She looked at her mother and added, "Should we go and sit down, Mum? I think everything's ready."

"Tell me about that broomstick sport your lot plays," Mr. Evans said as they settled around the small, round table and Mrs. Evans dished out pasta. "Quidditch, is it? Lily's told me some, but…"

"But what, Dad?" Lily raised her eyebrows as she reached for the salt. "It's okay, you can say I don't know what I'm talking about. James knows perfectly well how useless I am at understanding Quidditch."

"You've gotten a bit better," James said, smiling as he remembered the first time she had correctly identified a particular defensive maneuver his team had used during a match. "I think my Quidditch babble is slowly starting to work its way into your brain. Anyway, Mr. Evans, I'll give you the abbreviated version, because I could talk about Quidditch for hours, but I don't think any of us want that. Basically there are four positions…"

When the Quidditch conversation petered out, Mrs. Evans gestured at an old copy of the Daily Prophet that lay discarded on the kitchen counter. "Does the newspaper make all wizards angry, or is that just our daughter?" She cast an affectionate look at Lily, then went on, "I caught her throwing it across the room this morning."

James snorted with laughter, then put a hand on Lily's shoulder and shot her an apologetic smile. "In her defense, Harold Minchum is being particularly infuriating today. That's our Minister for Magic, and she's, er, not exactly a fan."

"Oh, we know," Mrs. Evans said as she began to clear away the dishes. "I think she usually describes him as a bloody useless idiot."

"That sounds about right." James reached for Lily's hand under the table and ran his thumb along her knuckles. "I don't think I've ever thrown the newspaper, but it does make me angry, too. Evans and I spent most of last summer writing back and forth about how concerned we were about the state of things."

Mr. Evans drained his can of beer and studied James. "And things haven't improved since the summer, have they?"

James hesitated. He considered the horrors he had read in the pages of the Prophet this morning: a ten year old girl had been attacked by Fenrir Greyback; a Squib was missing and presumed dead; the Ministry had received an anonymous threat, and Harold Minchum's response was painfully inadequate. The tightening of Lily's hand told him she wanted to keep as much of this from her parents as possible, and James wanted to respect her wishes, but the slight desperation on Mr. Evans's face mirrored the expression his daughter often wore. Looking into that face that was so like Lily's, James found he couldn't bring himself to lie.

"They haven't," he said, his tone grim as he accepted a bowl of trifle from Mrs. Evans. "Things are, er, not great."

Mr. Evans nodded. "I thought so. This one tries to keep it from us so we won't worry, but I knew things had gotten bad when I caught her putting protective spells on the house."

James looked at Lily in surprise. "Did you?"

She grinned, looking pleased with herself. "I did. Selectively permeable, obviously, so my parents can come and go to work, and I altered it to let you Apparate in, but I want you to take a look at it before you leave, because I'm not sure I did the boundaries correctly."

"I'll take a look, but only so I can admire your excellent spell work." There was a tiny dab of whipped cream on her lip, and he brushed it away without thinking, then blushed when he saw her parents exchange smiles. "She's very talented," he added, beaming with pride. "You should be proud. Her potions put me to shame, and you should see her do a toenail-growing hex. Absolutely bloody terrifying." He shook his head and watched Lily flush with pleasure, then added, "Sorry again for swearing."

"Toenail-growing hex?" her mother repeated, a spoonful of trifle halfway to her mouth. "That sounds like there's a story behind it."

James glanced at Lily and raised his eyebrows. "You've never told them about that? Right, so there's this bloke in our year called Bertram Aubrey, and if you couldn't guess from his name, he's sort of an all around tosser. Anyway, he made a rude comment about our friend who has, er, a sort of chronic health condition…"

He proceeded to describe Lily's enthusiastic defense of Remus, enjoying the pride spreading across her parents' faces and the flush creeping over Lily's.

"–and then I begged her to teach me the hex, because I'd never seen it before and I thought it was brilliant, but she refused. She didn't think I needed any more spells to use against innocent students who just happened to get in my way or catch me on a bad day, which I suppose was fair, because back then I wasn't exactly the perfect angel I am now."

Lily made an incredulous sound, then arranged her face into an expression of innocence and ate a bite of trifle when James looked at her.

"Anyway, I was impressed by her spellwork, but I was more impressed by the way she stuck up for Remus without thinking twice about it, even though it got her into trouble and she's usually a rule-abiding prefect." He watched Lily scrape the remaining trifle from her bowl and added, "It's what made me fall in love with her."

None of them spoke for a moment; the only sound was the faint chatter from the television. James's words echoed in his head, sounding more and more stupid as the silence stretched out. He ran a hand through his hair and looked around the table, a jolt of panic rushing through him.

"Sorry," he muttered, taking a sip of water and wishing he could make it through one evening without being a complete bloody idiot.

"Why are you sorry?" Mr. Evans asked, setting down his second can of beer.

"Er, for being a bit of a sentimental sod, I suppose," James said. "And for coming into your house and confessing my love for your daughter when you've only just met me. I dunno, it feels a bit much, now that I think about it, except I'm not the best at thinking before I act or speak, as Evans will tell you. She's been telling me off for my idiotic behavior for years, and…" His voice trailed off as he felt a gentle touch on his arm. "Sorry, I'm rambling, aren't I?"

Lily smiled. "A bit."

"You haven't exactly shocked us," Mrs. Evans said, reaching over to take a sip from her husband's beer and ignoring his little cry of protest. "It was obvious as soon as you walked in that you're in love with Lily. You can tell by the way you look at her. She looks at you the same way."

James and Lily exchanged sheepish looks.

"And it's clear you don't just like Lily for her good looks, although I've got to say, she does have excellent genes," Mr. Evans said, winking across the table at Lily. "You admire her talent and the way she stands up for what she believes is right, which is what we admire about her, too. So if you're thinking we don't approve, you have nothing to worry about. As far as I'm concerned, Lily's made an excellent choice, even if you don't know anything about football."

James's face split into a wide smile, and relief radiated from him in waves as he took Lily's hand. "You can teach me to like football," he offered, vowing to feign interest in a sport that didn't involve flying if it meant Lily's dad would like him.

Mr. Evans grinned, then jerked his beer can out of Mrs. Evans's reach before she could steal another sip. "If you want a beer, get your own, June," he said, rolling his eyes before turning back to James. "Does Lily try to drink your drinks and eat your food?"

James glanced sideways at Lily and shot her a knowing smile. "She does, but I don't mind."

Mr. Evans shook his head and drained the rest of the can. "You're a better man than I am." He lowered his voice and added, "I've got to be honest, I already like you better than that tosser Petunia's marrying. Somehow he manages to make even talking about football dull, and that's when he takes a break from talking about himself."

"Brian, be nice," Mrs. Evans chided, although James noticed a marked lack of enthusiasm in her voice. "He's about to become part of our family."

"Silly girl," Mr. Evans said as he rose from his chair, returning with another can of beer for himself and one for his wife. "I keep hoping she'll tell us the wedding's off, but no luck yet."

"You hush," Mrs. Evans said, cracking open her beer and taking a sip. "We've both been working overtime for months to pay for that wedding, and it's too late to get the deposits back." She stood and gestured in the direction of the living room. "Come on. I'll show you some funny baby photos of Lily before you go. She told me about the ones your mum showed her. Couldn't stop laughing about the one of you in the bathtub."

James was still laughing about the photo of baby Lily wearing nothing but a nappy and cowgirl boots when the two women went to the kitchen to make tea. Heart pounding, James cleared his throat.

"Mr. Evans, what are you doing tomorrow evening?" James knew Lily was meeting Petunia in London to go dress shopping. They were planning to get dinner and drinks afterward, so Lily wouldn't be home for ages. It might be James's only opportunity.

Mr. Evans frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. "June works late on Mondays, so I'll probably sit here, eat a TV dinner, and drink a beer or two. Do wizards have TV dinners?" He laughed and shook his head. "'Course they don't, they don't have TV. Anyway, why?"

"I was wondering if I could take you out for a drink," James said, letting the words tumble out before he could lose his nerve. "I dunno what a TV dinner is, but we can get food at the pub. I, er, want to ask you something."

Mr. Evans raised his eyebrows. "I don't suppose you can ask me now?"

James jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen and widened his eyes. "No."

There was a moment of silence, and then Mr. Evans grinned and nodded. "Yeah, alright. We can meet at the pub down the road."

"And, er, don't mention it to Lily," James said, his heart beginning to pound again as he thought about the conversation he would be having in just under twenty-four hours.

"Fair enough," Mr. Evans said, raising his eyebrows. "It'll be our secret."

James wanted to thank him, but at that moment Lily and Mrs. Evans returned carrying cups of tea, so he settled for a grateful look instead. His heartbeat returned to normal as he took a sip of tea and listened to Mrs. Evans describe Lily's disastrous attempts to fix her own tea at five years old. The evening wasn't over, and he had another hurdle ahead of him tomorrow night, but even still, he decided that things had gone better than expected, considering his tendency to act like an idiot.