Lily flung herself down onto James's torso in the same instant that he threw an arm around her back and rolled them over to put her body beneath his, pulling out by necessity in the tangle of limbs. Both Lily and James clapped hands instinctively over each other's mouths, and Lily almost giggled at the silliness of them. Her mind was still cock-drunk and not yet ready to freak out, even though her body knew something was very wrong.

The Slytherins were chattering loudly, and from their uninterrupted cackling she suspected they had not seen her over the back of the couch, but their voices still seemed to be moving, coming toward the couple…

"Bloody freezing…"

"Fire's gone out...useless elves…"

Lily rolled her eyes, momentarily distracted from her panic. Of course the cold would be the house elves' fault, not the fact that they were in a dungeon in a Scottish castle in March and didn't bother to cast Warming or Anti-Draft Charms.

Her fear came back in full force, though, when she realized that these weren't just passing observations on their way to bed. They were coming over to stoke the fire, and from the angle of this couch she could see the fireplace, which meant anyone at the fireplace could see...

James fumbled in his trouser-pocket to pull the Cloak out and yank it over them, and Lily thanked Merlin, Morgana and everyone in between for the drunken teenage eagerness of get-inside-me-now that had left James still half-clothed and the Cloak thus in reach. She moved her hand from his mouth to cup his cheek and her thumb stroked lightly in thanks.

The Slytherins prodded at the fire, mumbling incantations until it was a roaring blaze, and now surely they would leave? Surely they would go to bed and give Lily and James a chance to escape? Surely this was the first instance in Hogwarts history of a Slytherin going out of his way to show consideration for the younger students who would be cold in the morn…

They sat down in a group of armchairs ten meters behind Lily and James's couch and started talking about Quidditch.

Merlin's tits.

Lily looked back up at James, his eyes still dark, his hair even madder than usual and only made worse by the shimmery fabric of the Cloak falling over it, the hint of a smirk glimmering on his lips.

"What now?" Lily breathed, so quietly she was really just mouthing the words.

James leaned down until his lips brushed her ear. "Now...we fuck."

"What?"

James grabbed his wand and fired a nonverbal spell—which, by his wand movement, Lily guessed was Muffliato—toward the Slytherins, then a second for good measure. He turned back to Lily and winked, shifting very intentionally over her so that the evidence of his continued arousal pressed into...well, into the evidence of her own.

"You're familiar with the general concept, I believe," he murmured, marginally louder.

"James," Lily whimpered, gripping his shoulders as he rocked slowly and precisely against her. "We can't."

James smirked. "I think you'll find we can." The hand that wasn't bracing himself against the couch gripped her thigh, and Lily noticed that both her legs had wrapped themselves around his hips unbidden. "In fact, baby, something tells me you want to."

Lily suspected that something might be the fact that she could feel her own heartbeat between her thighs. Still, she had some self-control left, even if her body didn't.

"They'll hear us..."

"They won't hear me," James answered. "Will they hear you, pet?" He ground intentionally, infuriatingly, perfectly against her once more. "Is it too much for you? Can't finish without screaming my name?"

Lily glared, and James grinned. "Or do you want them to hear? You want everybody to know how good Prongs fucks his girl?"

Lily ignored her body's very physical response to that suggestion. "No. But they could smell us…"

James's grin widened dangerously. He licked a stripe up her neck, wide warm wet tongue flat against her skin, and breathed in deep through his nose right at her ear. "We reek, love. That ship's already sailed."

"But…"

James groaned in annoyance and shifted down her body to suck—slurp—on her tits as he ground into her. He reached two fingers down to swipe through her still-soaked center, making a softly obscene squelching sound, and pulled them out to wipe her cream on her own nipples, where he sucked it off.

He hummed his appreciation against her skin as his lips trailed fire up to her neck. He sucked on the pulse point below her ear, massaging her breasts with both hands, elbows propping him up on the sofa on either side of her, and Lily whimpered softly. Then:

"Tits almost popped out during Potions."

Lily blinked at the abrupt change of topic and tone, even as they continued grinding, the place between her thighs feeling steadily hotter and tinglier. "Um...what?"

He gave both her breasts one long, luxurious squeeze, his own eyes closing for a moment before they flashed open again, hazel completely swallowed by black. "I like watching you brew—it's cute, you get all focused. I looked over, and you were bending over the cauldron, and only I could see through the 'collar' the way they…"

James cupped her breasts together, his hands a push-up bra, looked down, and groaned, "Yeeeeeeah."

He jiggled her tits hard then, and it wasn't particularly comfortable, but hell if she even noticed the pain as he growled, "Should've smacked your arse so hard I could watch 'em fall out for me, just like this."

Lily moaned, kissing his neck as she pictured James spanking her in the middle of Potions...the way they'd feel the heat of each other's skin through just a single layer of robes...no skirt or tights or lacy panties...how he'd send her toppling forward, curves bouncing out from the low neckline...how he'd stare, drinking her in…how he'd reward her for her pretty show...what he'd do to any other bloke who dared look...

Without really thinking about it at all, Lily found her hand wrapped around his swollen prick, squeezing and tugging.

"That's not gonna do shit," James muttered, even as his prick tensed and his hips bucked into her hand. "I need in…"

"You're that drunk?" Lily whispered back incredulously. She knew alcohol could make things trickier, but James was a perpetually horny seventeen-year-old boy. He very, very rarely struggled to finish the job.

"No, but I jerked off three times today," James growled in her ear. "Had to use my fucking hand in the loo. Alone on my birthday, getting off to your cleavage like I was fucking fifteen."

Lily's eyes fluttered closed as more images floated before her mind unbidden...James's hand on himself, pumping hard and fast, mumbling her name as ribbons of salty white cum decorated the bathroom stall door.

"You asked me to be naked, Pr—James," Lily managed. She tried to sound exasperated, but the flash in his eyes when she nearly slipped into his nickname told her he knew exactly what he was doing to her.

"I told you to be naked," he corrected, and she shivered, hand clenching around his cock and drawing out a small groan. He trailed his fingernails up through the valley of her cleavage to her neck, and then down again. "And then I told you to sit on my cock and ride, and now I'm telling you to squeeze me with that tight little pussy so I can blow my load, and I don't know why you've stopped being a good girl for me."

There was a reason.

There definitely had been a good reason.

But Lily was drawing a blank at the minute.

"If we don't shag, what's your plan, pet?" James pulled Lily's hand up to her face, looked at it with her, their cheeks pressed together. "You gonna use these little fingers?" He splayed her fingers out and pressed his much larger palm to hers, lined each of his fingers up against hers. So much thicker, so much longer...with the base of their palms aligned, his middle finger extended more than a knuckle's length past hers, and Lily shivered.

He pushed her fingers together and pulled her hand to his mouth, swallowed up four fingers at once and laved his tongue over them before he released her hand, smirking.

"You can't fill you up, baby. You can't stretch you like I do."

He reached down between them, smacked the thick weight of his hard-on against her belly, her inner thighs, ground into her center. "You're spoiled, love. You can't go a night without me. You need this."

There was no point in lying. Every lie meant another minute without James inside her, without that cocky, perfect smirk pressed to her lips as he pounded her. She didn't want to lie.

"I need you, James," Lily admitted. "I need that."

James's face split into a huge, predatory grin. He grabbed her left leg and pushed it up basically to her own shoulder, forcibly stretching and tilting her so that her pelvis aimed up toward him. As he stared at her swollen, dripping pussy, his eyes glazed over slightly.

He slipped one finger gently between her labia, barely brushing her clit, down past her entrance and almost to her bum, and when he pulled it away it dripped with white cream. He raised it to his own lips, and his eyes fluttered closed as he tasted her.

"You need it so bad," he whispered reverently. He brought his hand back down and rolled her clit slowly between two fingers, eyes flashing between her face and her pussy as he watched himself work magic. "It's all for me, isn't it, baby? Only for me?"

"Only you, Prongs," she whimpered desperately, bucking into his hand. He adjusted her, lifting her so her entrance met the tip of his cock, as if she weighed nothing at all.

Fuck, he was erotic.

Usually, Crossed James was lazy, stretching out luxuriously while he watched her little body ride his big one, and that was hot as hell. But the way his biceps swelled, pecs rippled, abs clenched as he put Lily exactly where he wanted her, the Cloak shimmering behind his shoulders and reminding her of the safe little bubble he'd made just for her…yeah, she could get used to this.

Finally, finally, finally, James pushed inside her with a long, low "fuckkkk" from him and a tiny, frantic wail from Lily. Her squeak was so desperate that he reached to cover her mouth with one hand, the other landing on a breast and twisting the nipple hard in punishment.

"Can't fuck this pussy if you can't be quiet," he growled, buried balls-deep inside her as she twisted and whimpered, desperate for him to move. "And...awwwwhhh..." a long, slow groan as he pulled out almost completely... "I need to fuck this pussy."

And God, did he.

For a long time, the only sounds were skin slapping skin and Lily's muffled squeaks and James's deep, panted groans, only half-muffled by wet, sloppy, sucking kisses. Some part of Lily knew (and, fucking hell, liked) that the Slytherins were still chatting on the other side of the fire, but she seemed to have gone blind and deaf to everything outside of their glorious Cloaked bubble of sex. When she started to get close, and could feel him thickening too, his strokes a little wilder, a little deeper, he started to talk to her again.

"Good girl," he grunted. "Take it, Evans—fuck...fucking—pulsing…"

Lily reached around him to cup his bum in both hands, feeling the muscles contract rhythmically as he pounded into her, slid her hands down to his thick thighs…

"Grab my—balls, baby," James ordered, and Lily obeyed, reaching down to cup them and feeling the already taut skin tightening in her hand.

"Aww, yeah," he grunted in her ear, hands clenching on her mouth and breast, eyes scrunching shut. "Fuck, that's good."

"S'mine," he slurred, words and tongue and teeth falling into her collarbone as he thickened inside Lily, every muscle taut, ready to break. His hand on her mouth slid down, a sweaty weight against her neck, her breast, her belly. "My girl…" on the next thrust his hand curved beneath her, gripping her ass, lifting her so her clit ground into him. "My bum...my needy little cunt—can't go—unh—one night—uuuuunh—without a fucking."

Lily, eyes closed, drowning in sensation, having buried all her whimpers in the hand that had suddenly vanished, focused all her energy on not moaning at the sound of his words and his groans...at the smell of his sweat and sex...at the feel of him moving inside and outside her...

She locked her ankles behind his back for leverage and twisted against him every time he bottomed out, biting his shoulder now to hold in her sounds.

"Fuck, you love it," he growled as her walls squeezed him. "Taking my—big cock—unhh—don't you, pet?"

Lily whimpered her assent, but his hand clenched painfully on her ass. "Use your fucking words."

"Y-y-yes," Lily stammered, her voice broken from the effort of keeping her volume down. "I love you—I love how you feel—Prongs—ooh, God, Prongs—how you fill me—I love—oh!—I never knew—yes, yes—it could be—so good…from the very—first—time—oh—oh—oh—" At the mention of their first time, James growled in her ear and fucked her recklessly harder and faster, her head bouncing against the armrest, and it should've hurt, but she couldn't even process pain just then.

She knew he was thinking of whispered I love you's back when the words were only a few weeks old…of her swollen pink pussy and his prick rubbing through its cream…of her last-minute nervous bravado… "Potter, don't look at me like…just because I've never had sex, you know you're not the only thing that's ever been in…" and the long, desperate moan that had replaced words as soon as his tip pushed past her entrance.

She couldn't speak now either, and she whined and squeezed and whimpered against his neck as he rutted into her, grunting and groaning and bringing her ever closer to the edge.

"Now come," James ordered at long last, and Lily had never felt more like his little pet than she did in that moment, as, drunk and fuzzy-headed and desperate, she came instantly on command, squeezing his cock and clenching her fist around his balls and wailing, "Oh, Prongs!"

He followed her almost instantly, two more thrusts into her spasms before he roared and a hot rush filled her and his gloriously suffocating weight landed heavily atop her.

"What the fuck?" yelled a voice from the other side of the room.

Lily squeaked in shock before immediately muffling the sound, and James pushed himself up off her as his cum dripped out and down her arse. Her heart was still pounding, and she hadn't even stopped contracting around him, and James grinned wolfishly down at her like getting caught was a hilarious jape, and all in all, Lily's body and mind were too fucked-out to even know what to feel.

"Was that…"

"Is somebody…"

"I think they…"

"Who the hell is fucking in the Common Room?" Mulciber cried, and all three men jumped up, laughing, and charged toward Lily and James's side of the room.

James and Lily stared at each other. James fumbled to pull out and tuck himself away with one hand, the other bracing on the sofa. Lily helped him do up his trousers with trembling fingers.

James started to mouth something to her, still grinning, but before she could decipher it—

"Now what have we here?"

Fucking hell, what we had were Lily's robes.

And, by extension, her wand.

"Oh, hell, yes," Rosier chuckled as he pulled the wand in question from a pocket. "Can't run away without this. Whoever it is, we've got 'em now."

Mulciber inspected the couch next to Lily and James's, cackling, and then kicked it sharply. "Come out, come out, wherever you are."

"We won't hurt you, mates," Avery chortled, "We'll just have a laugh…"

"Along with the rest of the castle."

But of course, they would hurt them. They very much would hurt them, just as soon as they realized that the mystery shaggers defiling their Common Room weren't two pureblood Slytherins, but a blood traitor and his Mudblood girlfriend, who currently had only one wand to their four. Lily gasped raggedly, and James looked back down at her.

The genuine terror in her eyes changed James's whole demeanor. He still wasn't scared, she could tell—he was too far gone, too confident in his own ability to beat them to be frightened. But he looked at her with more gentleness than he had all night, cupped her cheek in his free hand and kissed her nose. 'I got this,' he mouthed slowly and clearly. Seeing Lily's obvious doubt, her panicked look toward the three (three!) Slytherins, he moved his lips to her forehead, then her ear.

"I'll always keep you safe, baby." James whispered. "I got this."

"What are you going to—?"

"Don't worry, pet. I have a plan." He brushed a strand of sweaty red hair behind her ear. "You think I'd let anything happen to these eyes? This mouth? These boobs? C'mon, Evans."

Even as the Slytherins wandered closer, loudly speculating about the identity of the mystery shaggers, Lily cracked a small smile in spite of herself.

"Let me help…"

"No," James hissed. "No wand...no fighting."

"We've got the Cloak...what's your plan? I bet I could—" he turned his head and muffled her words with his mouth. The soft kiss broke at the sound of Mulciber, alarmingly near:

"They look girl-sized…Who couldn't keep it in their pants on the way to the dorm, hmm? I wonder...:"

"I love you, Lil," James breathed, his lips brushing the inside folds of her ear, and the fear receded slightly as she soaked in those words that sounded like golden sunlight and green meadows and blue beaches and bright pink raspberries on your lips.

"I love you too."

"I know, baby." His big, rough hand smoothed down the soft skin of her side, her hip, her thigh, then left her to find and draw his wand. She felt him smirk against her ear. "Now lay back and watch while I remind you why." He turned away, then propped himself up to sit beneath the Cloak, though he made no effort to remove Lily's legs from where they still wrapped around him. He aimed his wand and cast wordlessly, sending a jet of red light to knock Mulciber instantly to the ground—a Stunner.

The other boys spun toward them instantly, their location revealed, but James had clearly known and planned that, only counting on the element of surprise for the first attack. He grinned momentarily back at Lily, the thrill of a victory he hadn't even won yet and the pride of doing it in front of Lily already brimming in his eyes.

With his non-wand hand, he landed a teasing smack across Lily's ass, and her legs jolted back instinctively, freeing him. James winked, slipped out from beneath the Cloak, and stood. As the Slytherins' eyes widened and their wands aimed straight at James, he stretched languidly, flexing jaw, shoulders, back, then pulling his arms up over his head, every muscle in his bare torso glistening with sweat. He looked like sex, and he smelled like it too.

The two remaining Slytherins stared in disbelief.

"Fancy meeting you here," James said pleasantly.

"Potter," snarled Avery.

"What the fuck are you doing in our Common Room at four in the morning?"

"Same question," James retorted in his best Prefect voice. "As Head Boy, I'm morally opposed to rule-breaking in all its forms. Where precisely were you coming back from at 3:30 in the morning?"

"None of your—"

"ACCIO ROBES!" James tried with Rosier distracted, but Avery must've been expecting something like that, because he threw up a quick Shield to block it.

"Oh, I know whose these are," Rosier realized aloud, and Lily had to stop herself from snapping, 'Do you want a cookie?'

Avery and Rosier looked from James to the couch with a mixture of lust and revulsion, and Lily shivered.

"It's waiting for you, isn't it?" Avery sneered, and James looked genuinely confused, but Lily knew exactly what it meant. Her legs, spread under the Cloak where they had fallen after James stood, drew involuntarily together. Avery squinted at the couch as if to see her...and he probably thought he could, Lily realized. If you looked hard enough at a Disillusionment Charm... Lily curled involuntarily into herself, bringing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around the whole package.

"Took your cock out of the mud just long enough to play the hero..." Rosier elaborated, and though Lily couldn't see James's face, she saw his shoulders tense with fury.

"While your slut waits with her thighs wide open?" Avery added, and James retaliated with a jinx that sliced open his cheek, though he tried to dodge.

Avery and Rosier both threw curses back, which James deflected and answered with a volley of fire that missed them both, but burned a poster of the Sacred Twenty-Eight to a crisp. Lily wasn't entirely sure that was an accident.

"Don't fucking test me," James warned in a low voice. He shifted sideways as he spoke, and Lily realized he was watching his steps very carefully, angling himself so curses aimed at him wouldn't hit her, but staying close enough so that he could throw up a Shield if they suddenly grew brains and realized they should be attacking the unarmed—if invisible—sitting duck on the couch. "Give me the robes right now, and I'll let you walk away. Say another word about her...I don't think you want to find out."

The offer did not tempt them. "Disgusting," Avery sneered. "She's really got you wrapped around her grubby little finger, doesn't she?"

"I dunno, I'm starting to get it," Rosier said silkily. He gestured around the common room with a smirk. "Dirty bitch lets him stick it in whenever, wherever he wants…" James dropped his shield and fired off two hexes in short succession, forcing both Slytherins to duck behind a couch for a moment, but they popped back up looking more gleeful than ever. A few minutes passed in curses and hexes volleyed both ways, flying thick and fast, then:

"Fancy passing your slimy little dick sock around when you're done with her, Potter? I'd have a go."

"Like you'd even know where to stick it," James snarled, and his wand shot out a beam that became a shimmering silver net. Rosier ducked again, but the net followed his movements, entangling him and toppling him to the ground, lacing across his mouth to block the slurs pouring from it. He dropped Lily's robes and wand somewhere along the way.

Avery roared a curse that James barely dodged. "Your Mudblood bitch is gonna pay for this!" he bellowed, face contorted with an ugly rage.

James chucked his wand and lunged.

His fist caught Avery square in the jaw. Avery punched James in the eye; James locked his arm around Avery's neck...and they were rolling. Both men threw punches and kicks for nearly a minute, but James was bigger and stronger and angrier and there was no question who would win this fight.

"Stay—the fuck—away—from her!" James roared between punches, and on the last word he landed atop Avery. His blow came with an awful cracking sound...Avery's nose was broken.

James staggered to his feet, grabbing his wand on the way, and Stupefied Avery mid-groan of pain, then turned to Stupefy Rosier as well. He tucked the wand back in his trouser pocket and stood, rolling out his right shoulder and shaking his head furiously.

"Fucking pricks," James snarled. "Pathetic fucking bastards." He drove his foot into Avery's stomach once more for good measure, and then he turned back to the couch, his expression not exactly softening, but changing. He grinned dangerously, broad shoulders still heaving with exhilaration. He pushed his sweaty hair back from his face with one hand and unpopped the button of his jeans with the other. "Get that cloak off, Lil, I want you right here on their couch while they're fucking unconscious. I'm getting hard for you all over again, pet, I need back inside."

"Um."

James whipped around, disoriented, when he realized Lily wasn't on the couch. She stood, naked body hidden beneath the Cloak, two meters away. James stared at a spot slightly to the left of her. "Evans?" he half-laughed. He took a step toward where he thought she was. "I'm too tired to play-chase you, love. C'mere."

"James, I don't...I don't want to...hook up right now."

James blinked. His eyes—still red and slightly unfocused—squinted, brows furrowed in innocent confusion. "Why not?"

"I…" Lily thought of James patting his thighs, fully clothed, only his prick out and ready to jam inside her fully naked body. Belonging to James Potter...being James Potter's dirty little pet...it had felt ten minutes before like the highest of compliments. Now her stomach roiled, and she drew the Cloak tighter around her body. "The things they said…"

"Those fucking idiots, Lil? They don't mean shit."

"I know," she said quickly. "I know none of it's true, but…"

"Then get over here and…"

"But I don't feel sexy; I feel...grimy. F-f-filthy. And I know that I like it when you're rough with me, and when you're cocky and when you tell me what to do, and—" Lily's voice broke—"and it's your birthday and I wanted to give you whatever you wanted, and I know you didn't do anything wrong, but I...I can't look at you right now, and I don't want you to see me either."

James stared at the air around Lily, mouth opening and closing but no words coming out. Lily stared at the spot on the floor behind James—next to Rosier—where her robes lay. She was still fucking naked, and it felt like the worst joke in the world. "I want my clothes back. I'm...I'm going to bed."

"Lily…"

"Please go stand...somewhere else."

"Lily, I can't let you leave like this."

"You're not letting me do jack shit, Potter." And for the first time, she realized she was angry at him too. "I'm getting dressed and I'm leaving, because the first thing my pureblood boyfriend said after hearing me get called a Mudblood and his slimy little dick sock wasn't "are you okay," it was "let me stick my cock back in you."

James looked stricken. "I'm sorry, Lily, I didn't think...you're worth ten of all of them put together, and you know that. You never let them get to you, that's what I love about you…"

"That's what you love—? So if it bothered me when people threatened my life and called me blood slurs every goddamn day, you wouldn't love—"

"WHAT?" James yelled. "NO! Evans, not even—that's not what I said at all!"

But Lily wasn't listening, or if she was, she wasn't ready to believe him. "I'm tough, Potter. And I'm brave and I'm smart and I'm better than any of them, because I fucking have to be. But I'm…" Lily's voice shook. James took an uneven step toward her, reaching out a blind hand, but Lily jerked back. "I'm an eighteen-year-old girl, and I just started sleeping with you at Christmas, and you're the only person I've ever...and I know I'm not that for you…"

"That's not...You know you're the only girl who's ever mattered, Lily. I didn't give a shit about any of them."

"That's not sweet, Potter! That doesn't make me feel loved; that makes me want to give every other girl you've ever slept with a hug and a therapy voucher. And it makes me feel like I'm just..." but she hiccuped, heat building behind her eyes and nose, and did not trust herself to finish the sentence.

Both his hands had jumped to his hair, and when he heard her gulp back tears he made a desperate sound in the back of his throat. He made as if to step toward her again, but thought better of it. "Like you're what?"

Just here until the novelty of getting what you thought you'd never have wears off, Lily thought. "Please get out of my way," she said instead. "I wouldn't want to get mud on your robes."

"Lily."

"I will hex you if you don't get out of my way, James," Lily lied (her wand was still with her robes).

He looked faintly nervous, but he stood his ground. "Can we talk about this, Evans?"

"Get out of my way!"

And he finally did.

She wished he'd fought harder.

Lily picked up her robes and wand, pulled them underneath the Cloak and managed to shrug her robes on, baring her ankles, then a wrist for only a moment. James watched the air, jaw working furiously but no words coming.

He heard when she started for the door, and he finally sprang into action, charging around the sofa to stand in front of the door. "You're not even gonna...we're not gonna talk about this at all? No goodbye, I don't even get to see you? What the fuck, Evans?!"

"Don't swear at me."

"Lily, I love you," James yelled, and perhaps if Lily had been less drunk, or less hurt, she would've deciphered real feeling in his voice. As it was, all she heard was anger, and she wished she had not heard him at all.

As it was, she looked back at him once more to see that his eye was going purple where Avery's fist had landed. She ached for his pain, and so she lifted her wand beneath his Cloak and Healed the black eye without ever revealing even her hand.

"Happy birthday, James," Lily mumbled.

As it was, she ducked silently around him and was gone.

Lily collapsed against the wall two corridors down from Slytherin, still invisible, sobbing in earnest now. She wanted to scrub the night off her body, but more than that she just never wanted to move again. Rather than go all the way back to Gryffindor Tower, she Charmed open the first empty classroom she could find.

Lily tried a half-dozen times to Transfigure the desk into a bed, managing only to make the surface plush and squishy—which, with the dark oak finish, gave the unfortunate impression that she was sleeping on rotten wood. It was not lost on her that even drunker and higher than she, James could've managed it in a heartbeat.

As she finally drifted into a fitful sleep atop the desk, beneath the Cloak and a blanket she'd summoned from the dormitory, Lily felt spitefully glad to be far from the Tower. If James really loved her he'd come find her.


Well.

I'm so, so interested in what people will think of this. I told my friend I was gonna hold James accountable for his actions and she was like bitch you are? Writing borderline bdsm? About Harry potters parents? Why tf do you think anyone wants you to moralize?!

Which….lmfao fair, but COUNTERPOINT the sober make up sex will be better because it's ~emotional~

Also, I wanted to try to think honestly about what it would mean for these people who are brave and kind and in love but also flawed and insecure and so so young to get kinda carried away sexually and have to deal with the repercussions of that.