The day was already scorching hot as Lily stood in the mirror, struggling to zip her dress. The gray silk made her look washed out, but Petunia had chosen it because it would look nice next to the garish pink atrocities the bridesmaids had been forced to don for the occasion.
"If she wanted me to look nice with the bridesmaid dresses, she should've just made me a bloody bridesmaid," she grumbled, twisting her arm behind her back in a vain attempt to reach the zipper.
"Here, let me," James said, giving up on his tie and zipping the dress in one fluid motion. His fingers grazed her bare skin as he untangled the delicate silver chain of the necklace he had given her for Valentine's Day.
"Thanks." She inspected her hair, the dark red strands styled into soft curls that fell around her shoulders. "Mary did a nice job on my hair, and at least I don't have to wear pink. Although, maybe pink would be preferable to this."
"You'd look great in pink." He leaned around to kiss her cheek.
"You think I look great in everything."
"Which is why you'd look great in pink. But you look even better in gray." He fiddled with the strap of her dress.
"I look like Nearly Headless Nick."
He moved to stand beside her and frowned into the mirror, then shook his head. "Nah. Your head is far too attached to your body to look like Nearly Headless Nick. There's no way he could pull off such a plunging neckline."
She smiled and leaned her head on his shoulder. "This is going to be a disaster."
"Maybe it won't be so bad."
She shot him a dubious look
"Okay, maybe it will," he admitted. But at least you'll have me to keep you entertained. And if it gets to be too much, just say the word and we're out of there."
She grinned. They had agreed "niffler" would be their signal to meet in the loo so they could Apparate back home if Lily couldn't put up with another minute of Vernon Durlsey's stupid mustache and drill babble or her sister's snobbish lip-pursing.
"No, we should stay the whole time – for my parents' sake." She leaned in to kiss him, taking comfort from his soft lips and the taste of his toothpaste. "Thank you for coming with me."
"Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss it. I think you're actually going to have a better time than you think. And it's better than another stakeout, especially in this heat." He gestured at the tie abandoned around his neck. "Now, do you know what to do with this thing, or do I need to wake Sirius up and ask him to help me?"
When they arrived at the church, Lily's mother emerged from the back room wearing a harried expression. Her hair was wilting in the heat, and sweat glistened on her forehead.
"Come back and say hello to Petunia," she urged after greeting James and admiring his smart suit. "You should see her in her dress; she looks lovely."
"I don't think she wants me back there, Mum," Lily said, casting a longing look at the rows of pews where the rest of the wedding guests were settling in as organ music played in the background. "Besides, I don't want to leave James–"
"I'll be fine," James said, flashing his most confident James Potter grin. "I'll make friends. There's got to be someone here who talks about something besides drills."
He strode off and slid into a pew beside a few men Lily had never seen before, and then she was whisked away into a small, stuffy room full of rustling chiffon and the sickly sweet smell of roses. A fan in the corner hummed as it blew the hot air around the room, stirring the ends of Lily's hair and tugging at her dress. Petunia stood in the center of the room, dabbing at her face as her bridesmaids fussed over the train of her dress.
"You look so pretty, Tuney," Lily said, forgetting her trepidation and resentment for a moment as she took in the sight of her sister in her elegant ball gown and updo.
It wasn't Lily's taste – hardly anything Petunia chose was Lily's taste – and yet she did look pretty in a very Petunia way. Her hair had been twisted into a sleek knot, and the lacey neckline of the dress made Petunia's long neck appear graceful. The shiny swaths of fabric accentuated her slim figure, and her engagement ring stood out against her pale finger. Carefully-applied makeup softened the harsh lines of her face, although it wasn't holding up well in the heat. Beads of sweat clung to her forehead, and creases appeared in the sweep of shimmery blue eyeshadow.
"Thanks," Petunia said, pursing her lips as her eyes swept over Lily. "So do you."
"That's because you practically picked this dress out for me," Lily said, a wry smile turning up the corners of her lips.
"Yes, well, I have good taste," Petunia snapped, but her expression softened.
"Can't we do something about this heat?" one of the bridesmaids moaned. "You're melting, Petunia."
That must be Vernon's sister, Lily thought, taking an instant dislike to her. She looks even worse in pink than I do.
"The air conditioner is broken," Lily's mother said, casting a sidelong glance at Lily. "But at least we've got the fan."
"The fan's doing nothing!" Petunia wailed, hurrying over to the mirror to inspect her face. "I'm going to look awful in the photographs…" She turned back to Lily, her frown deepening. "Why does your makeup still look perfect?"
Lily resisted the urge to laugh. Her makeup still looked perfect because Mary had sealed it with some version of the Impervius Charm she had learned from Witch Weekly. However, Lily knew better than to mention the Impervius Charm in front of Petunia's bridesmaids, so instead she shrugged.
"It's a new brand of makeup. It's supposed to hold up to sweat and humidity. Try standing closer to the fan, Tuney, maybe that'll help."
One of the other bridesmaids widened her eyes in alarm. "No, don't do that," Linda exclaimed – or was that Yvonne? Lily couldn't remember. "It'll ruin your hair!"
Petunia rolled her eyes and shot Lily a withering look. "I don't need your help, Lily. Why don't you go find your seat – it's too stuffy in here as it is."
Lily raised her eyebrows and gazed back at Petunia, a steely defiance in her eyes. "Fine." She had been sneaking glances at the air conditioner, wondering if she could chance a quick Reparo while nobody was looking, but if Petunia wanted to be a complete stuck up cow, that was fine. I hope all the makeup melts right off her face, she thought savagely as she marched out of the dressing room and joined James in his pew.
"Did you have a nice chat?" James asked. His relaxed grin that usually put her at ease did nothing to diffuse her irritation.
"No," she said, crossing her arms and glaring down at the dainty little heels she had bought in Diagon Alley. They were charmed to prevent blisters, and she felt a hot burst of satisfaction as she imagined Petunia's face if she found out her freak sister was wearing magical shoes to her staunchly Muggle wedding.
"Me neither," he whispered, leaning away from the men beside him. "I thought talking about drills was boring, but this idiot was going on about something called golf, which sounds bloody useless, and then the one next to him was telling me how green his lawn is. Why do I care if his grass is green?" He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. "The day I start having conversations with perfect strangers about grass is the day it's time to end it, Evs."
"Shhh, he'll hear you," Lily said, pressing her hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter. Imagining James traipsing around a golf course or painstakingly watering and fertilizing the lawn was so amusing that for a moment she forgot how furious Petunia had made her. He'd look cute in a golf outfit, Lily thought, before processional music started up and everyone craned their necks toward the back of the church.
After they had sweated their way through the ceremony, Petunia scrutinized Lily from head to toe before she deemed her acceptable to pose for photographs.
"Why don't we have James join us for one?" Mrs. Evans suggested. She cast a meaningful look at James as he leaned against the front pew, examining one of the hymnals. "He's going to be part of the family soon."
Petunia shot her a withering look, and nobody repeated the suggestion.
While Vernon helped Petunia into a limousine, her voluminous skirt taking up half the seat, Lily's dad glanced uncertainly at her.
"Would you two like to ride with us, or will you be getting to the reception, you know, the other way?"
James raised his eyebrows. "What, ride in your car?"
Lily frowned. "Have you ever ridden in a car?"
"Just the once." He grinned and ran a hand through his hair. "One of the other Chasers drove up for a summer practice. She let Sirius have a go driving it."
"Oh, God. That was brave of her," she said, chuckling. "Yeah, alright, we'll ride with you."
When they reached the car, Lily made to get into the back seat, but her father touched her arm. "You drive," he said, grinning and handing her the keys. "James, you sit up front. Get the full experience, you know?"
"Petunia wouldn't approve of me driving," Lily said, a mischievous smile spreading across her face as she pulled out of the parking space and steered the car onto the street.
"I think she has bigger things on her mind today," her mother remarked.
"Why wouldn't she approve of you driving?" James asked as he reached up to fiddle with the rear view mirror.
"Don't touch that." She attempted a stern glare, but she couldn't help the affection seeping through as she looked at the adorably curious expression on his face. "She wouldn't approve because technically I'm not supposed to be driving without a driving license."
"You delinquent, Lily Evans," James said, shaking his head and making a tutting noise.
"Oh, shut up," she said, slapping his hand away as he turned on the heat and the hazard lights. "Quit touching things."
"What's that do?" James asked, pointing at the gear shift.
"That's if you need to drive over water," Lily said, straightfaced. "It's fine for ponds or small lakes, but this car's not reliable enough to cross an ocean."
"Really?" James's eyes widened in astonishment. "I didn't realize Muggle cars could drive over water."
There was a snort of laughter from the backseat.
"You're joking," James said, sounding both exasperated and impressed. "Nice one, Evans." He pointed to the window crank. "Now, tell me what this does, and don't give me any bollocks about an invisibility booster or something."
"An invisibility booster," Lily's father repeated. "Imagine that."
"Oh, my friend's flying motorbike has an invisibility booster," James said, turning around in his seat to grin at him. "We installed it, actually."
Lily drove on, glancing sideways at James as he explained the process of making a motorbike invisible. He's so bloody adorable, she thought, cheered despite the prospect of spending the rest of the night pretending to be happy for Petunia.
The reception hall was decorated with more pink than Lily ever wanted to see for the rest of her life. There were pink ribbons, pink flowers, pink garlands, pink chair covers, and, in the center of each perfectly-set table, pink centerpieces.
"It looks like Madam Puddifoot's threw up in here," James whispered as they took their seats and accepted glasses of champagne.
"It looks, er, lovely," Lily said, grimacing as she thought about how much her parents had spent.
"Don't lie, Lily," her mother said, sighing as she ran her fingers over a pink napkin. "But it's what your sister wanted."
Lily scowled into her champagne flute as Vernon's best man gave a toast that made her long for Professor Binns's dullest lecture on the Statute of Secrecy.
"Do that toenail growing hex," James whispered, touching her knee under the table. "That'll shut him up."
She pressed her hand against her mouth to stifle her laughter; she didn't want the best man to think she was laughing at his unsuccessful attempts at humor.
Lily managed to make it through dinner without incident. When Vernon and Petunia began to make their rounds to greet each table, they rushed past Lily and James without more than a cursory glance.
"Don't pay them any mind," Lily's mother said, patting her hand. "They're just busy trying to say hello to everyone else, I expect."
But they didn't return, and Lily pushed her slice of cake away, untouched, and contented herself with glaring at the couple as they turned stiff, awkward circles on the dance floor.
"They even dance boring," she muttered to James before draining the rest of her glass.
After the first dance finished, Lily's parents rose to join the crowd of other guests wandering toward the dance floor.
"Niffler?" James asked, brushing a loose strand of hair out of her face.
"No, not yet," she said, heaving a sigh.
Behind them, Vernon was deep in conversation with the golf enthusiast.
"Yes, that's Petunia's sister and her fiancé," he said in a carrying whisper. "I don't know what to make of him — he's very strange. He's some sort of amateur magician."
"Really!" the golf enthusiast exclaimed, chuckling and turning his head to give James a very obvious once-over. "How odd."
"Amateur magician," Lily seethed, her hands clenching into fists. "What a tosser."
"I've been called worse," James said, covering her hand with his. "At least he didn't call me an arrogant toerag."
"But who does he think he is?" she insisted, ignoring his teasing smile. "Insulting you, when you've been nice enough to overlook his entirely rude behavior and this fucking ridiculous pink decor!"
"I'm not insulted, Evans, honestly. And I doubt he had much input into the decor." He traced his thumb up and down her hand. "But keep being angry on my behalf, if you like. It's very cute."
She rested her head in her hands and watched her sister chatting with a cousin at a table across the room. Petunia giggled and gestured animatedly between tiny sips of champagne. Probably explaining why her freak sister isn't a bridesmaid, Lily thought, pulling a rose from the centerpiece and plucking off the petals one by one.
"Come on," James said, rising from his seat and offering her his hand. "Dance with me. If they're already laughing at us, we may as well give them something else to laugh about."
She got to her feet and gave him a reluctant smile. "What're you talking about? There's nothing funny about our dancing."
He took her hand and led her around tables and waiters and guests until they reached the dance floor. As they whirled around, beaming at each other and attracting curious glances, Lily almost forgot her indignation.
They had returned to the table, laughing and thirsty, when Petunia and Vernon strolled by arm-in-arm. James waved and beckoned to them, a friendly smile on his face.
"Come and have a drink with us." He gestured at the seats Lily's parents had vacated.
Vernon and Petunia exchanged pointed looks and continued past with their noses in the air.
"I know your mum insisted," Lily heard Vernon mutter. "But I wish they didn't have to come. I keep expecting them to do something strange."
"I know," Petunia sighed. "But try not to let it ruin the night. Just pretend they're not here."
Heat flooded Lily's face. She set down her glass with enough force to splash champagne across the tablecloth, then pushed back from her chair and marched across the room.
"What's wrong?" her mother called, her glass frozen halfway to her lips as she stood conversing with Vernon's mother.
Lily didn't bother to answer. She wove around startled guests, stumbling in her heels as she searched for the exit, the bathroom, anywhere to escape before she gave in to the imminent tears.
Finally she found a door and pulled it open, sinking to the floor of what she realized was a janitor's closet. A broom and mop bucket kept her company as she rested her head in her hands and cried. The dismissal on her sister's face haunted her, sending sharp stabs of anger and hurt through her body with each sob.
"Go away," she snapped a few minutes later when there was a knock at the door. "I don't want to talk about it, Mum."
"No, it's just me," James said as he pulled open the door and squeezed in beside her, shifting aside a jug of cleaning solution and a scrub brush to make room for his feet. "Your fiancé, the amateur magician."
She laughed and leaned her head back against the wall. There was a clatter, and James reached out and caught the broom before it could fall onto her head.
"I'm sorry for storming off," she said, wiping her eyes. "I just can't stand it. How can they treat us that way? I know that last dinner was a disaster, but I wrote Petunia three letters to apologize! To just march right past like we weren't even there…" Her voice trailed off as more tears leaked out and rolled down her cheeks.
"I expect it's my fault," he said, releasing the broom and brushing his thumb across her face to wipe her tears away. "I shouldn't have been so rude when I met them before. Maybe they'd forgive me if I put on a magic show for the guests. I could pull a rabbit out of a hat and, er, whatever else magicians do."
"I'd rather turn him into a bloody rabbit," she said, imagining Vernon Dursley transforming into a fluffy white rabbit and hopping around while guests stared in bewilderment.
"He'd make a good rabbit," James said, nodding thoughtfully. "Of course, it'd be a breach of the Statute of Secrecy, but maybe the Ministry has enough to deal with at the moment to waste time dealing with tossers being turned into rabbits."
She sighed. "Did my sister see me come in here?"
James shook his head. "I don't think so. The lovely bridesmaid who looks like Vernon in a dress did, though — is that his sister?"
"Yes," she groaned. "I'm sure she's already rushed off to tell Vernon I'm sulking in a bloody closet."
"Maybe they'll assume we're shagging," James said, grinning.
She laughed, and some of her anger ebbed away in the face of his calm, cheerful presence. His foot was in a mop bucket and there was a spiderweb in his hair and he was just so bloody adorable in that suit — it was unfair, really.
"I love you," she said, leaning in to kiss him. "I'm so sorry about this entire awful day."
"I'm not." His lips brushed her cheek where the last few tears lingered. "I'm snogging Lily Evans in a broom cupboard. It's a good day."
"I love you," she said again, resting her head on his shoulder.
His arms wrapped around her, enveloping her in the familiar safety and warmth that drove away the last of her sadness.
"I love you too. I promise our wedding will involve absolutely no pink." He pulled her to her feet and kissed her once more. "Although I wouldn't be opposed to including a bit of broom cupboard snogging, if you're up for it. Now come on. Let's go throw ice cubes at the happy couple while they're not looking."
As they walked hand in hand back to the table, they passed an open door that led to the kitchen.
"Hang on," James said, releasing her hand and darting inside. He returned a moment later, carrying a large slice of cake and looking quite pleased with himself.
"You were too angry to eat your cake before," he said. "Oh, damn, I've forgotten a fork." He glanced around, then turned away and whirled back around, pulling a fork from his sleeve. "Ta-da!"
"Well done. You can conjure a fork."
"Rubbish! I pulled this from my sleeve. Amateur magician, my arse. There's nothing amateur about my skills." He twirled the fork around in his fingers until she snatched it out of his hands and took a bite of the cake.
"Thanks," she said, licking frosting from her lips. "You're a good wedding date."
"I know." He plucked the fork from her fingers and helped himself to a bite of cake. "I'm good at most things."
"Arrogant toerag." She stole the fork back and took another bite. "At least the cake's good."
He raised his eyebrows. "Niffler?"
She nodded. "Yeah, let's just go and say goodbye to my parents. And I want to finish my cake."
"Should we take back our gift?" James muttered as they passed the gift table.
Lily was seized by a sudden urge to snatch up the toaster James had carefully wrapped in pearly white wrapping paper. She's probably going to pitch it straight into the bin when she sees it's from us.
"No," she said, heaving a resigned sigh. "They'll just accuse us of being rude for not bringing a gift. I don't want my parents to have to listen to Petunia complain."
"Well, what if we still give them a gift, but I tamper with it a bit? I could probably get it to shoot toast right into Vernon's stupid face." A mischievous smile tugged at his lips as his hand drifted to his pocket where his wand was concealed.
"Seems a bit advanced for an amateur magician," Lily said, grinning and grabbing his hand. "Come on, before I change my mind."
Her mother shot her a concerned look when Lily slid back into her chair and set down the plate of cake with a clatter.
"You alright?"
"Fine," Lily said, stabbing at the cake with more force than was necessary. "It's just Petunia being Petunia. We're going to get going, but tell her we said goodbye." She chewed and swallowed a mouthful of cake, then added, "Actually, no. Tell her to sod off, please."
"Thank you for having me, Mr. and Mrs. Evans," James added, treating Lily's parents to a good-natured grin. "I've really enjoyed myself."
Lily's father chuckled. "You're a good sport. I'm looking forward to your wedding — I have a feeling it's going to be a lot more fun."
"You two should come over for dinner soon," Lily's mother urged, touching James's arm.
"As long as Petunia's not there," Lily muttered, glaring across the room at Petunia and her enormous wedding dress. The sugar had begun to ease the hard knot of resentment in her stomach, but the sight of Petunia brought it all back. Her fingernails dug into her palm as her jaw clenched, and she stood up, knocking against the table and rattling the water glasses.
She forced out a goodbye and snatched up her purse, then grabbed James's hand and led the way toward the door. They were passing the gift table again when she heard a familiar glissando.
"Hang on," James said, pausing on the edge of the dance floor. "We can't leave now."
"Why not?"
He grinned. "They're playing 'Dancing Queen.' You love this song."
"I do love this song," she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
"We can't let a good song go to waste. Come on."
He led her onto the dance floor and spun her around. As they moved together, everything fell away — the wedding guests in their suits and shiny dresses, the clink of classes, the pink flowers and pink table runners and the stupid pink cocktail napkins. There was only James and "Dancing Queen" and a sudden rush of unexpected joy.
"I love you," she said, raising her voice to be heard over the thump of the music.
"I love you, too." He beamed at her, his happiness almost tangible. "I'm glad we stayed for this song. You're the best dancer in here."
She grinned. "Liar." But she didn't care. She threw her hands in the air and spun around, savoring the moment of exquisite happiness after a day of frustration and strain and too much bloody pink.
When they returned to the flat, cigarette smoke hung in the air and a David Bowie song mingled with Mary's laughter. Lily kicked off her heels and followed James into the living room to find Sirius and Mary curled together on the sofa. A cigarette dangled lazily from Mary's fingers as she stroked Sirius's hair with her other hand. His eyes were half shut, and he wore a blissful, relaxed smile. Lily didn't speak, unwilling to interrupt this rare, intimate moment.
"How was it?" Mary asked, lifting her head to peer at them through the haze of smoke.
"Stupid question, Macdonald. It was shit, obviously." Sirius extricated himself from her arms and got to his feet, striding across the room and returning a moment later levitating a bottle of firewhisky and four glasses.
"How'd you know it was shit?" Lily asked, accepting a glass from him and taking a large sip.
Sirius handed around the rest of the glasses, then pulled a cigarette from the pack on the table and tossed it to her. "Because it's your sister," he said as he settled back onto the sofa beside Mary and reached for his glass. "Anything involving your sister is usually shit. And I'm somewhat of an expert on shit siblings."
James sat down in the armchair, and Lily draped herself across his lap. She lit the cigarette and took a deep drag, leaning back against James as the nicotine and alcohol eased the remaining tension in her body. Sirius rested his long legs on the coffee table and looked at Lily, raising his glass before downing the contents in one gulp. The commiseration and understanding in that simple gesture comforted Lily more than the firewhisky or the cigarette.
"At least you looked nice," Mary said, surveying Lily with satisfaction.
"She was the prettiest one there," James said, running his fingers idly along Lily's arm. "And I had a great time. I got to see Evs drive a car, and I got called an amateur magician, and there was cake and champagne, and we got to impress everyone with our dancing, so overall, it wasn't too bad."
She sipped her drink, then let her eyes drift shut as James described the finer points of the day. The firewhisky spread a pleasant warmth through her chest as she snuggled closer to James, sleepy and content and grateful for the friends seated around her.