Axe-Murderer

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and everything related belongs first, and foremost, to JK Rowling, and then to her partnerships with Bloomsbury, Scholastics, Warner Bros., etc.

Summary: 'I'm drunk and your car looked a lot like a taxi' au

Under the pale street lamp she stumbled, her boots nearly catching on the uneven side-walk as she paced back and forth in front of the pub. She had long passed sloshed, now in the annoyingly persistent part of being drunk where she was stuck between wanting her bed and wanting a fight. Though the latter impulse was attributed to Amos, who also shared the blame for most of the drinks she had had. She'd slipped her friends on their way to the loo, and she knew Marlene would be furious but her head was spinning from the lights and lingering smoke and Amos and she needed fresh air.

She stopped pacing near the curb, turning wildly right and left, looking up and down the street, in search of her refuge. To her delight, she found the black taxi just pulling next to the curb on the opposite side of the road and she threw herself forward to claim it before any of the other passersby thought to act. Fortunately her impeccable timing got her to the car-door before the other cars came speeding down the street. Tugging the handle, she flung herself into the back seat, her limbs tangling in her haste.

"Get me out of here," she told the black haired man in the driver's seat. In her stupor, she didn't think twice about how young and unkempt he looked for a taxi driver.

He craned his neck sharply at the sound of her voice, horror enveloping his face as he realized she was there.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked, attempting to keep his voice calm as he shifted his body around.

"What do you mean what am I doing? What's anyone need a taxi for, you loon? I'm pissed and I need to go home!"

The horror in the man's face lessened as comprehension dawned on him. He studied her with bright hazel eyes unhidden behind his wire-rimmed glasses.

"Well that's great and all but I'm not a taxi cab," he told her, the corner of his lips twitching up.

"Why aren't we moving yet?" she whined, through his explanation, then when the words sunk in, "You're not a…what?"

"I'm not a taxi," he repeated. "I can help you flag one down though."

This sobered her up slightly, though more by far than anything else could have. Her face was aflame as she clambered out of the car and onto the sidewalk. The man stretched out his long limbs as he joined her.

"I am so sorry," she sputtered out, embarrassedly. "Your car looks very like a taxi and—"

"No matter," he said, waving her off with his hand. "Are you here alone at this hour? There's some unsavory blokes about, you know."

"Yes. I mean no. I mean, yes I know there are, and no I'm not alone. I was in the pub with Marlene and Mary and Emma, and what's-her-face from accounting. Oh what's her name? I'm right awful, aren't I? She bought me a pint earlier, and I can't even remember—"

"I'm sure her buying you a pint only contributed to the problem," the man joked, much more at ease now that he knew she wasn't alone.

She laughed. "Oh no, probably not."

"So if they're all in the pub, why are you out here with a stranger? I could be an axe-murderer you know."

"You'd still be a sight better to see than Amos and Hestia."

"Who're they?"

"My blighter of an ex-boyfriend, with his new girlfriend. Just showed up at the pub, I think. I hadn't noticed them before anyway. But when Mar needed to use the loo, I spotted them cozy at the far end of the pub and I just had to get out, you know what I mean—err—?"

"I'm James," he supplied, eying her with a delighted curiosity. "And you?"

"I'm Lily. Lily Evans. But you didn't need to know that, as you've indicated you're an axe-murderer. And even though you're not an ex-boyfriend, and seem certainly better than Amos, I think I oughtn't share my information with axe-murderers."

"No, you're right about that one," he said kindly. "Lily, has anyone ever told you, you ramble when you're drunk?"

"I most certainly do not ramble. I assure you I am just the same as when I'm sober, thank you very much."

James stifled his laughter at her indignation, in the off chance she became violent when drinking. He winced simply imagining how the heel of her boots would feel stomped into his toes.

"Well, my sincere apologies. Let's get you a taxi," James suggested, stepping to the edge of the curb and straining to see down the dimly lit street until his attention was drawn to the other side of the road.

"LILY!" a blonde called from the entrance of the pub.

"Oh shit, she found me," Lily muttered to James, evidently horrified. The wide-eyed look she was giving him proved too much and he broke into laughter. "That's Marlene."

"Oh," was all James could say before Marlene marched across the road to them.

"Lily, what are you doing? We turned around for two seconds and you'd gone." Marlene rounded on James instantly, before Lily could speak. "And who are you? You'd better not be trying to take advantage of my mate. Bloody hell, she's sloshed, what kind of bloke are you?"

"Whoa!" James said quickly, holding his hands in front of him as he took a subconscious step back. "I didn't—"

"I hopped into this poor bloke's car, thinking it was a taxi," Lily informed Marlene, unabashed in her drunken state. "His name is Jim—"

"James," he found himself correcting, again as an involuntary reflex.

Marlene pressed her lips together. "Oh, sorry, James. I was worried and I tend to get a little batty when I worry. I'm sure you're a great bloke."

"He's an axe-murderer," Lily piped in again helpfully. Her mind had returned to the foggy state of drunkenness once more as they stood on the sidewalk.

"That was a joke," James explained quickly, shooting Lily a pleading look. "I like to have a lark."

"Interesting sense of humor," was all Marlene said, though her eyebrow hitched up before she turned to Lily. "All right Lils, let's get you home. I didn't realize Amos would be here."

"Blighter," Lily said, draping her arms around Marlene's shoulder as she yawned.

"There's a taxi coming down the road now," James informed them as he stretched his long arm out to flag it down.

"Thank you," Marlene said earnestly, as the taxi came to a stop in front of the curb and she opened the door to let Lily in.

"Sorry for getting into your car, axe-murderer," Lily told James as she closed the car door. Through the glass window Lily watched vaguely aware of a brief conversation Marlene was having with James, but as her main focus was on getting home to her bed, she didn't give it much contemplation.

James only allowed himself a small chuckle at Lily's parting words once he stood alone watching the taillights travel around the corner and out of sight.

The next morning Lily woke up with a pounding headache and her stomach in nauseated knots. Groaning, she pulled the covers up to her eyes in an attempt to block them from the sun that seeped in through her window.

"Good morning," Marlene said quietly as she entered the room, carrying a tray laden with a large glass of water, some aspirin, and three pieces of toast. "Brought you some breakfast. Though it'd probably be considered lunch by now."

"Ehh," Lily let out, as her form of a hang-over thank-you, and Marlene chuckled softly as she set the tray on Lily's bedside table.

"You're welcome. Also, your phone's lighting up, seems like you have a message or something," Marlene said casually as she backed out of the room, silently closing the door behind her.

Intrigue and a desire for the aspirin drove Lily's face out from under the covers. It certainly wasn't the worst hang-over she'd ever had, although she found herself struggling to remember a worse one. Popping the aspirin into her mouth and taking a small sip of the water, she unlocked her phone with her free hand.

She had two texts from Emma and three from Mary, and then one from a number that wasn't in her phone. Ignoring the messages from her friends, she quickly opened the foreign one.

Good morning. How are you feeling? This is the axe-murderer, by the way.

Lily stared confusedly at the phone. Axe-murderer? What the hell happened last night? After a few minutes of painstaking thought – through her throbbing headache – she started regaining some of her memory. It came to her quickly that Amos had showed up at the pub, and how much it had bothered her at the time. Then she realized that she left the pub, alone, and got herself a taxi. But where the axe-murderer came in didn't become apparent to her until she remembered that the taxi wasn't a taxi, and that there was a bloke. A tall bloke, with unruly hair, and glasses, and what was his name?

And how had he gotten her number?

Hi. I'm pretty miserable, though you didn't kill me so there's the silver-lining I suppose.

Lily lied back on her pillow, her mind blank as she waited for a reply.

Oh, my mistake. I'm not the proper axe-murdering kind of bloke. I'm the sort of axe-murderer who helps drunken birds get home safely, which I'm glad to see you have. Out of curiosity, do you remember me?

Vaguely. It's all coming back to me. And now that we've cleared up your axe-murdering tendencies, tell me, are you also the type of bloke who stalks a bird? I don't think I even knew what my phone number was last night, so I would hardly have been able to give it to you.

Evidently, not everything's coming back. I am definitely not the type of bloke to stalk anyone, least of all drunk birds. Your mate Marlene passed me your number last night and said to text you today. And as a man of my word, here are your texts.

"Marlene!" Lily called loudly, which she immediately regretted as the sound of her own voice made her head throb even more.

Lily's door opened a sliver to show the face of her friend. "Yeah?"

"How is it I've gotten a text from an axe-murderer, hmm?"

"Oh he's actually texted you then, has he? Good, at least we know he'll listen," Marlene said approvingly.

"You gave him my number?" Lily reiterated.

"Of course I did. I was sober enough to actually have a good look at him. Believe me, if you'd been in a proper mind you'd have wanted him to have your number too. Plus the way he was looking at you sort of required me to give him your number. It's in the Best Mate's Handbook or something."

"What do you mean? The way he was looking at me?"

Marlene shrugged, her lips twitching upward. "Nothing bad, of course. He just looked like he enjoyed being around you. You'd be hard-pressed to find any bloke who can tolerate drunk, babbling Lily as it is, and this bloke did more than just tolerate it."

As Lily looked down to see another text from James on her phone, Marlene took the distraction as an opportunity to silently exit the room again.

Are you cross? I'm sorry, I don't mean to be a blighter. Clearly you didn't want to hear from me, so I can take a hint. It's one of my better qualities, considering I'm an axe-murderer and all.

Lily found herself smiling – well, grimacing slightly – at the words.

I'm not cross. I just don't remember too much about last night apart from thinking your car to be a taxi. Which is actually pretty humiliating, especially compounded with how I am when sloshed.

Don't worry about it, you were cute. I'm glad you got into my car and not some dodgy fellow's.

So am I. Thanks for being so kind about it.

Kind? For an axe-murderer, you mean.

Oh yes, that goes without saying. As far as axe-murderers go, you are the most pleasant I've ever met.

You do seem like the type to frequently fraternize with axe-murderers.

Is it that obvious?

Nah, I'm just well-trained.

Unsure of what to say next, Lily sat there, nibbling on a piece of toast as the aspirin finally kicked in. Well, at least something was making her feel better. After about ten minutes of her not replying, her phone lit up again.

Well in case you've forgotten, my name is James. James Potter. I know we don't really know each other too well, but if you'd ever want to meet up or something, I'd like that.

Lily smiled thoughtfully at the phone. Certainly the aspirin was doing wonders now.

I'd like that, too. Of course, only if you promise to remain as kind an axe-murderer as you have been thus far.

I'll do one better than promise: I solemnly swear. Though, despite your frequent fraternizing with axe-murderers, you seem like the kind of bird who might be able to convince me to give it up for good.