A hint of fall crispness hung in the air as Lily and James strolled across the lawn to the Quidditch pitch. They had left James's parents sipping tea in the kitchen, Fleamont enjoying the sports section of the Prophet while Euphemia worked on the crossword. A thick cover of clouds obscured the sun, and a light breeze plucked at Lily's hair. She glanced sideways at James, marveling at his unbridled joy prompted by the prospect of flying.
"You sure you don't want to use one of the spare brooms?"
She shook her head and sprawled out on the grass. "I'll just watch. If you're busy trying to make sure I don't fall off my broom, you won't enjoy yourself."
"I don't mind making sure you don't fall off," James said, shrugging. "You look very cute on a broom."
"So do you, which is why I like watching."
She noticed the self-satisfied grin that spread across his face at her praise and the weight that seemed to fall from his shoulders the moment he kicked off from the ground. The wind ruffled his hair and tugged at his t-shirt as he circled the pitch, then dove down until his feet brushed the ends of the grass. She watched him for a few minutes, enjoying the tightness of his muscles and the little smiles he shot her after each steep dive or midair roll. She was reminded of lazy afternoons lounging by the Quidditch pitch as James soared overhead. There had always been a book open in front of her on those occasions, but she had spent more time admiring James than actually reading.
The thought of Hogwarts gave her a pang of sadness: today was September first, but she was not on the Hogwarts Express buying Bertie Bott's or gazing out the window at the Scottish countryside. She wondered idly who had been chosen for Head Boy and Head Girl; for some reason the thought gave her a lump in her throat.
"Evans, you weren't paying attention, were you?" James landed beside her and sat down, a frown now replacing his blissful expression. "You always cheer when I stand up on my broom, and you didn't even smile."
"Sorry," she said, sighing and laying back in the grass. "I was just thinking that we'd be on the Hogwarts Express right now. It feels strange, not going back."
"It is strange," James agreed. He stretched out beside her and took her hand. "The school won't be the same without us. Although, I bet McGonagall's looking forward to a nice, relaxing year."
She smiled and pictured the thin line McGonagall's lips formed whenever James or Sirius called her 'Minnie.' "She's earned a relaxing year. All the teachers have."
"They'll miss us, though. We kept things interesting."
Blades of grass tickled Lily's face as she nestled closer to James. They lay there in silence for a minute as the clouds shifted to reveal a sliver of cornflower blue sky. Lily pictured the chain chugging along past green fields or a pond dotted with waterlilies. By this point in the journey, Sirius would probably be bored enough to start throwing Bertie Bott's at Mary; she would have at least one lodged in her bra, two if Sirius was concentrating hard enough.
"I'm glad we're not on the Hogwarts Express," James said, his voice jarring Lily from her daydream.
"You are? Why?" Lily longed for the cozy compartments, the constant motion of the train, the flutter of excitement in her stomach as the train neared the castle.
"All last year I had this antsy feeling, like I should be out here doing something instead of sitting in Potions class or writing essays or sitting around the common room. And now we're out here actually doing it." His voice was soft, but there was an earnest intensity that drew Lily in. "I know you feel like we're not making much progress, and it is going a lot slower than I'd hoped, but we're getting there. We're making a difference, and I wouldn't trade that for anything, even though Hogwarts was my second home, and where I fell in love with you, and where we first–"
Lily giggled, and James turned to look at her, his face arranged into an innocent smile.
"What? I was going to say it was where we first learned the Patronus Charm."
"Sure you were."
She turned back to face the sky, staring at the tiny glimpse of blue that widened as the clouds drifted. There had been a vague sense of doubt nagging at her over the past few weeks, growing with every seemingly pointless patrol duty and every death and disappearance reported in the Prophet. Hearing James's passion and determination revived the flame of hope that had been suffocating under the weight of the Order's slow progress and the increasing violence. We're getting there, she heard him say, the words igniting the spark she had felt the first day they had joined. We're getting there.
When the sun slipped behind a cloud again, they rose, brushing grass from their clothes, and trekked back across the lawn to the house. James settled into a seat across from Euphemia at the kitchen table and helped himself to a biscuit while Lily wandered off to the bathroom. She was washing her hands and scanning her hair for stray bits of grass when she heard the tinkle of breaking glass.
"Did you try to throw the Quaffle with your eyes closed again?" she asked, grinning as she strolled back into the kitchen. "Your mum's going to kill you if you break any more–"
She broke off when she saw James's face, pale and tight with fear.
"What–?" she asked, heart pounding.
James ran his hand through his hair and swallowed. "Dumbledore just sent a message. There was an attack on the train platform this morning."
Her breath caught in her throat. "Oh, God."
He nodded. His mouth tightened as he fought to keep his expression calm, but Lily saw pain and terror lurking in his eyes. "Two dead – a Muggle employee and…" He bit his lip. "And a student."
Lily heard a muffled sob and realized Euphemia and Fleamont were still in the room. Euphemia sat slumped back against her chair with her hand pressed to her heart. Fleamont stood beside her, his arm around her shoulder and his gaze fixed on James.
"Oh, God," Lily whispered again.
"He wants us to go and stand guard, in case they're planning a second attack." James slid out of his chair and strode over to her, his feet crunching on a piece of his broken teacup.
"Go?" she repeated. "To the school? But it's so well protected. They can't get in, can they?"
"No, I don't think so, but he wants us to go to Hogsmeade in case any of them show up there. Come on, we should hurry."
He took her hand and turned to his parents, forcing his face into a semblance of a smile. "Sorry to leave early. We'll see you soon."
Euphemia reached for Fleamont's hand and clutched it tightly. "I don't suppose there's any point in telling you to be careful?"
James shook his head. "I've never been very good at that."
Her smile was as strained as James's. "I love you both."
"Good luck," Fleamont added, his jaw set in a determined line reminiscent of the expression James often wore. "Although I think it's anyone going up against the two of you who's going to need luck."
"We'll see you soon," James said again, and then he nodded at Lily. They Disapparated with a pop, and then they were rocketing through space at dizzying speed until they appeared at the outskirts of Hogsmeade village. Lily heard the bleat of one of Aberforth's goats and the chatter of two men as they strolled along the path toward the Hog's Head, but otherwise the village was quiet. Her eyes strained to find anything out of the ordinary, but it all looked normal – eerily normal.
"We should've brought the Invisibility Cloak," she said, scanning the area to find a place to duck out of sight.
"I did." James pulled the cloak from his pocket with a sheepish smile. "I've, er, been bringing it pretty much everywhere."
She raised her eyebrows as he slipped the cloak over their heads. "Have you done an Undetectable Extension Charm on all your trouser pockets? Technically, that's illegal."
"Yeah, well, I'm also an unregistered Animagus, which is even more illegal. I figured it was the bad boy appeal that made you go for me."
He pulled her close to kiss her, and she felt him trembling, but when he released her, his expression was resolute and determined.
"We're going to be okay. We're going to do a sweep and make sure Hogsmeade is safe, and if any of those tossers try to come and cause trouble, we'll hex the fuck out of them." He glanced sideways at her, his lips turning up into the ghost of a grin. "Alright?"
She squeezed his hand and nodded. "Alright."
They set off along the path, their movements hampered by the cloak. Once Lily stumbled over a patch of loose gravel, but James grabbed her arm to steady her. They flattened themselves against the side of a building to allow the owner of Honeydukes to pass, and a little further on they stepped sideways to avoid a puddle. They both held their wands poised in front of them, tensing at every sound and movement, but they saw no one besides the occasional villager and a scraggly ginger cat. When they reached the Three Broomsticks, Lily spotted a flash of black out of the corner of her eye and felt a funny prickling on the back of her neck. She nudged James and glanced over her shoulder, but saw nobody. James released her hand and put a finger to his lips, then led them to the alley behind the pub. As they peered around the building, hardly daring to breathe, the silence weighed down on them.
Nobody's there, Lily thought. I imagined it, that's all. Nobody's there, and we're going to laugh about this in a minute.
Suddenly two figures in hooded black cloaks appeared from around a corner, striding purposefully along the path. The shorter figure moved with quick, shuffling steps; the other was tall and burly, yet his movements were surprisingly graceful. Or her, Lily thought pointlessly. It could be a woman. The hoods concealed their faces, revealing their eyes through tiny slits in the fabric, but Lily didn't care who they were or what they looked like. At this moment, every Death Eater had morphed into one vague, insidious force she had to stop before they hurt more innocent people. She reached over and squeezed James's hand, taking comfort from the pressure of his solid, slightly sweaty fingers.
"You take the short one. Stunners on three," he mouthed, then held up three fingers and lowered them one by one. His spell hit the tall Death Eater, but Lily's hand was shaking, and her spell missed its target by several inches.
"What the fuck–? Stupefy! Stupefy!" The short Death Eater began sending spells off in rapid fire, glancing around with panicked, jerky movements. "Wilkes! Rosier! Get over here – we need backup!"
Lily had managed to throw up a wordless Shield Charm, but then two more Death Eaters were rushing over, firing off spells in their direction. She darted back behind the wall, but the movement pulled the Invisibility Cloak off, revealing her position to all three conscious Death Eaters.
"There!" one of them shouted, pointing. "Avada Kedavra!"
Lily threw herself backwards, heart pounding as the spell flew over her head and burst against the fence behind her.
"You fucking moron," the short Death Eater said. "That's her – the Mudblood, Evans. He wants her alive. Stupefy!"
She raised her wand, but before she had time to take action, James stepped in front of her and cast a Shield Charm powerful enough to protect them both. The movement had pulled the cloak halfway off, and he shrugged out of it, standing beside her and shooting her a brief smile. It was just a fraction of a second, a moment of reassurance in between the chaos of battle, but it was enough to center her and clear her mind. His words from earlier echoed in her mind: We're going to be okay. She reached out and touched his hand, the barest brush of their fingers.
The fear screaming through her head faded to a dull murmur, and she began firing spells and darting around faster than her brain could register. She was vaguely aware of James beside her, moving just as fast as she was. Spells soared over her head and past her shoulder, stirring her hair as they went. The fence behind the Three Broomsticks was no more than splintered fragments, and the shed that concealed a secret passageway to Hogwarts was in flames. One of Lily's spells had hit the first Death Eater, but someone had revived the tall one, and he was hurling spells as though he wanted to make up for missing the first part of the fight.
She lost track of time, aware of only the pounding of her heart and the torrent of spells she was keeping at bay. Sweat dripped into her eyes, clouding her vision.
"Evans!"
James yanked her sideways, but a spell grazed her arm, sending searing pain radiating through her body and splattering the ground with bright red blood. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to look at the middle Death Eater instead of the blood pouring from her arm. James hit one of them, but the other two were unrelenting, and Lily's vision was growing blurry.
Lily squinted and made out more figures running toward them. She struggled to form an incantation, but her lips weren't cooperating, and she had neither the focus nor the energy for a nonverbal spell. Gulping air, she tried to duck behind what remained of the wall, but then she saw more spells flying at the Death Eaters, and they scrambled backward, grabbing the unconscious ones and Apparating away. The new figures stood a few feet away, and suddenly Lily recognized Marlene, Frank, and – she squinted – was that Benjy Fenwick? She couldn't tell, and trying to make her eyes focus made her head swim. She wavered, and James grabbed her arm to keep her upright.
"Get her out of here," Frank said, his voice louder than Lily had expected. She opened her eyes and found him just inches from her, peering at her injuries. "We'll hold it here, but I don't think they're coming back. Moody, Dorcas, and both Prewetts are over on the other side of the village. Sirius and Mary are around somewhere, too."
"There were a couple more – Avery, I think, and a young, skinny one I've never seen before, but they fought them off." Marlene's brows furrowed. "You should get her home now, James. She's about three seconds away from passing out."
"I'm fine," Lily said, her voice a strangled croak. "He's…" She stopped speaking and steadied herself against James. "He's good at healing spells. He can fix my arm and I can stay."
"No," James said, his voice gentle yet firm. "You need rest. Maybe some Blood Replenishing Potion, if we've got any."
Lily smiled as James took her hand. "I made some yesterday. But it wasn't a very efficient yield – only ten vials. I wasn't accurate with my stirring."
"It's okay, ten vials should be plenty. Hang on."
He Disapparated, pulling her along beside him. The motion made her head swim, and she squeezed her eyes tight as she gripped his hand. The world was closing in on her and unconsciousness was lapping at her mind…
They staggered outside the door to the flat, and James undid the ward spells before helping her through the door. She wanted to collapse onto the floor, but he guided her to the sofa and knelt to examine her arm.
"Is it bad?" she asked, struggling to keep her eyes open. Her arm throbbed, and out of the corner of her eye she saw dots of red splattered across the sofa cushion.
"It's not that bad," James said, brushing hair out of her sweaty face. "I've healed worse. But maybe you should let me take you to St. Mungo's."
She shook her head, wincing when the movement made her vision swim again. "No. It might be dangerous. I'm fine here."
"Evs, you should really get checked out." His face was right in front of hers, his eyes wide and pleading. There were tiny flecks of blood on his glasses – her blood, she realized. "I'm no expert."
"I have full confidence in you," she said, reaching with her uninjured arm to clasp his hand. "You fixed Padfoot's hand after he punched a solid stone wall, and that was way worse than this."
James sighed. "That's only because he was too stubborn to go to the hospital wing. And you're just as stubborn as he is. In some ways, you two are the same bloody person."
"But I have better hair," Lily said, smiling.
James chuckled. "Don't let Padfoot hear you say that. Alright, fine, if you're not going to let me take you to hospital, hold still."
Lily's arm smarted as James siphoned most of the blood away from the wound, and then there was a rough tingle and more stinging as he cleaned it with a disinfecting spell. The stinging abated as he poured something cool and soothing over the wound – Dittany, she realized. She watched him frown in concentration as his eyes traveled over her arm, assessing the damage. He gave a tiny nod, then dragged his wand through the air above the cut. He repeated the motion, and Lily felt a hot stab of pain as the skin began to knit together before springing apart again.
"Come on, you fucking arsehole," James muttered.
Lily giggled, then stopped when she realized the motion was jarring her arm. She felt his magic filling the space between the torn edges of her skin, forcing back the remnants of Dark Magic that lurked there. As she watched, James bit his lip and stared down at the cut. This time when he dragged his wand through the air, the skin closed again and remained that way. The raised red line extending all the way along her forearm and the blood spots on the sofa were now the only evidence of her injury.
"See? I knew you could do it." Lily tried to rise, but James put a hand on her chest.
"Don't move," he said, kissing her forehead. "You still look like you're about to pass out, and you haven't had your potion yet."
Her eyelids drooped as he strode across the room, but she forced them open when he returned and put a glass bottle to her lips.
"Take the whole thing," he said firmly, and she didn't have the strength to argue.
As she gulped down the potion, a warmth spread through her body and lifted some of the heaviness weighing her down. The weariness remained, but she no longer felt weak and lethargic. She tried to sit up again, but James put gentle pressure on her shoulder until she slumped back against the arm of the sofa.
"You're a terrible patient, you know that?" James said. "Worse than Moony. You lost a lot of blood. You shouldn't be moving, unless I'm levitating you to the bedroom."
He trailed his thumb along her jaw, then bent to kiss her. She tasted salt on his upper lip, and when she twined her fingers through his hair, the strands were damp with sweat. There was a smear of blood on his cheek; when she wiped it away, she realized it was his and not her own.
"You're bleeding," she said as she wiped her fingers on her stained t-shirt.
"I'm fine." He kissed her again, then rested his head against her chest, careful not to put pressure on her newly-healed arm. She could feel him trembling, and when he sat up again, his eyes were unusually bright.
"I'm just so glad you're okay," he said, running a hand through his hair and putting on a casual grin that didn't fool her for a second. "For a second I thought…"
"But I'm fine," she said, reaching for his hand and giving it a squeeze. "It was my own fault. I should've been quick enough to dodge that." She shuddered, remembering the force of the spell as it had ripped her arm open. "Thanks for saving my arse."
"You've saved my arse loads of times. I'm sure you will again before the end of the week." He ran his thumb up and down her hand, and there was so much affection in the small gesture that she would have thrown her arms around him if he hadn't ordered her to stay still.
"I hope everyone else is okay," he said, sitting down on the edge of the coffee table. "I don't like feeling like I've left them all behind."
"You should go back, then," Lily said, although she wanted nothing more than to stretch out on their bed and fall asleep with James's arms around her.
His eyes widened in surprise. "Really? I thought you'd want me to stay here, where it's safe."
She forced back the memory of the blur of spells. "I do, but I know that's selfish of me. I know you aren't happy sitting back and letting others do the fighting for you, and I wouldn't be happy about that, either." She hesitated, imagining being stuck in the flat without knowing whether he was alive or dead. "But maybe I should take a sleeping potion, so I don't lay here worrying about you."
James stared at her for a moment, wonder spreading across his face. "I love you so much, Evans."
"I love you, too." She reached out and touched his knee, happy to find he was no longer shaking.
"Back in Hogsmeade, when we were fighting side-by-side, that was…" He shook his head, the worry and fear erased from his face.
"I know," Lily said, remembering the focus that had washed over her, and the comforting presence of James beside her. They had moved in sync, aware of each other's position, ready to step in or pull each other out of danger if needed. It had been simultaneously exhilarating and reassuring, and it had filled her with appreciation and overwhelming desire for him. If her body wasn't replacing its blood supply, and he wasn't about to rush back to battle, she would have dragged him straight to the bedroom.
"I love you," he said again. "And I'm so bloody impressed by you. I don't deserve you, Evs."
"Of course you do." She stroked his knee, resisting the urge to pull him down onto the couch beside her, because there was no time for that now – he had Death Eaters to stop and lives to save. "We're a team, James."
He grinned. "Yeah, I suppose we are." He stood up, crossing the room and returning a moment later with a bottle of sleeping potion.
"You'd better take all of it, I think," he said when she stopped drinking with half the liquid still remaining in the bottle.
She shook her head. "No, I want you to be able to wake me up when you get back. I think you deserve a proper thanks for saving my life."
His face lit up, and his unbridled happiness was so adorable she almost couldn't stand it.
"I'll be back soon," he said before kissing her one more time. "Don't get any bright ideas about coming to find me when you wake up. That potion takes a few hours to fully replenish your blood."
"I know. I made it, remember?"
Sleep was already lapping at the edges of her consciousness, and she let her heavy eyes close. She felt James tuck a blanket around her before a soft pop told her he had Disapparated. Sighing, she submitted to the intoxicating pull of sleep, trusting James to keep his promise to return soon.
James leaned back in his chair, watching Lily's animated gestures as she and her mother discussed wedding decor. He had no strong opinions about the topic and trusted Lily to make excellent decisions, so he let the conversation wash over him as he admired the strand of dark red hair that tickled Lily's collarbone. Her diamond sparkled on her finger, catching the light every time she took a sip of her drink or waved her hand to emphasize a point.
"Are you as bored by this conversation as I am?" Mr. Evans muttered.
James grinned, then glanced sideways at Lily and leaned toward Mr. Evans. "As long as there's no pink, I'll be happy. I don't see what it matters whether we do fairy lights or floating candles – why not do both? Nobody will be looking at that rubbish, anyway."
"I heard that, James," Lily said, flashing him a teasing glare.
"What?" He held his hands up in surrender. "They won't notice the decorations because they'll be too busy looking at you."
She smiled and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. "Oh, shut up."
"It's true," he said, shrugging.
"Lily," her mother said, her startled voice cutting through the haze of James's adoration. "What happened to your arm?" She frowned and pointed at the raised scar left behind after the battle.
"Oh," Lily said, resting her arm on the table to hide the scar. "It's nothing. I just, er, cut it while I was chopping roots for a potion."
"I thought wizards could heal wounds so they didn't leave a scar," Mr. Evans said, trying to peer around James to examine Lily's arm.
Lily glanced sideways at James, and her palpable discomfort made him want to take her in his arms.
"Yes, usually we can, except…" She twisted her hands together and bit her lip.
James looked at Lily's parents, noticing the confusion and concern clouding their features, and reached for Lily's hand.
"Wounds caused by Dark Magic leave scars," he said, meeting Mr. Evans's gaze. "She got this in a, er, scuffle with a couple of Death Eaters – the dark wizards we're fighting."
"James," Lily murmured, pursing her lips.
He squeezed her hand and smiled, wishing he could smooth the worried line between her brows. "They have a right to know, Evs." He turned back to her parents and continued, "They attacked the train station where all the students were boarding the train to go to Hogwarts. There were two people killed. One of them was a student."
"Jesus," Mrs. Evans whispered, her eyes fixed on James.
"Yeah," James said, taking a deep breath. They had learned the identity of the student the morning after the battle. Phillip Horton had been about to start his second year at Hogwarts. The previous year, James and Lily had helped the young Hufflepuff find the Potions classroom on the first day of classes. He supported Ballycastle, too, James remembered, feeling suddenly sick.
Lily touched his shoulder, and the warmth of her fingers gave him strength. Forcing the thought from his mind, he cleared his throat and continued. "Anyway, we were called to go check out the village by Hogwarts in case they attacked again. A couple Death Eaters showed up, so we held them off until more of our people arrived." He turned to look at Lily, filling with pride as he remembered her intense concentration and the force of her spells. "I wish you could've seen her – she's so talented, and honestly a bit scary when she's fired up. Your daughter's a hero."
Lily rolled her eyes and shifted her leg under the table so she brushed against his knee. "Don't be stupid – you're the hero." There was a stubborn jut to her chin as she looked across the table at her parents. "He pulled me out of the way when this happened," she said, holding up her arm. "If he hadn't, I might not have survived. And he healed it for me. And then after he took care of me, he went back to make sure everyone else was okay."
James beamed at Lily, transported back to the focused, synchronized state they had slid into in that Hogsmeade alley.
Mr. Evans stood up and strode over to the refrigerator, then returned and set two cans of beer in front of Lily and James. Lily picked up her beer and tilted her head to look at him, bemused.
"I dunno," he said, sliding back into his seat. "I didn't know what to say, and it seems like you both deserve a beer."
Mrs. Evans gave an exasperated laugh and shook her head. "Thanks for telling us, James. Lily, I know you don't want us to worry, but we want to know what you're up to, even if it scares the hell out of me."
"You don't wish I'd chosen something safer for a job – maybe a receptionist, like Petunia?" Lily asked, raising her eyebrows.
Mrs. Evans stared down at her hands, chapped and cracked from scrubbing floors and tubs at the motel down the road. When she looked up at Lily, her eyes glistened with tears.
"No," she said, shaking her head. "Of course, I'd love it if I didn't have to worry about you. But then I think about how those parents must feel, losing their child when he was just trying to go to school…" She shook her head again, twisting her hands together until her fingertips turned white. "And I think about you fighting the people who did that, so no more parents have to go through that, and it makes me so proud of you." Her eyes darted to James as she added, "Both of you."
Lily smiled, and James saw her shoulders relax the tiniest bit. "Thanks, Mum." She looked down at the beer in front of her and laughed, then cracked it open and took a sip. "And thanks, Dad."
James sipped his own beer to stop himself from staring at the light film of beer left behind on Lily's lips and the soft flush of her cheeks. The bubbles fizzed their way down his throat and warmed his chest.
"Now, I think we should go back to talking about the wedding decorations," Mrs. Evans said, arranging her face into a cheerful expression. "We never did decide on fairy lights or floating candles, Lily."
Lily heaved a grateful sigh and leaned across the table toward her mother. "Well, floating candles might be good above the tables…"
Mr. Evans grinned and took a sip of his beer. "Damn. I thought we'd dodged this conversation."
James watched Lily for a moment, smiling as the worried lines on her forehead eased, then shrugged. "Oh well. At least we have beer."
As they prepared to leave, Lily frowned as they approached the protective barrier they had constructed together months ago. James followed her gaze and squinted at a hazy spot that seemed to flicker every few seconds.
"Do you think it's wearing down a bit?" she asked, taking a step forward and running her hand through the air as though trying to find a pull in a piece of fabric. "It feels almost like a weak spot – do you know what I mean?"
He moved toward her, taking slow steps until the enchantment enveloped him, brushing his skin with the barest hum. If he stopped in the right place he could sense the weak spot, a hiccup in the smooth expanse of swirling magic.
"Yeah." He stepped back and drew his wand, and without saying anything, she did the same. He murmured the incantation, then closed his eyes and visualized an unbroken protective sphere surrounding the little house. His magic streamed out, mingling with the existing magic and filling in the cracks. Beside him, he sensed Lily's magic, entwining with his and growing stronger until the air crackled with power. He poured out more magic, sending it forth like a net until the area was saturated. Satisfied, he slid his wand back into his pocket and turned to Lily, taking in her bright eyes and the magic that still buzzed around her, and pulled her in for a desperate, hungry kiss. The magical boundary hummed beside them, raising goosebumps on James's arms.
"Let's go home," Lily murmured into his ear, her breath sending a shiver down his spine.
He didn't speak, but took her hand and Apparated them back to the flat. As she shut the bedroom door and pulled him toward the bed, he could still feel the residual magic pulsing around them.
"Can you believe you've had the pleasure of dating me for a whole year?" James asked, draping his arm around Lily and leaning back against the sofa.
She rolled her eyes and sipped her champagne. "Yes, I'm so glad I finally agreed to go out with you after you'd been shamelessly pursuing me for years."
"That's a bit mean." He frowned at her over the top of his champagne glass. "I didn't shamelessly pursue you. I was dedicated – I never gave up hope. It was romantic."
"Yes, it was." She leaned over and kissed his cheek, then helped herself to more champagne. "And I'm glad you never gave up, because I'm very happy with you, even though you still have occasional arrogant toerag tendencies."
"You love my arrogant toerag tendencies." He drained his glass, then turned sideways to grin at her. "Are you hungry?"
"Yeah. Are we getting takeaway?" She couldn't remember the last time they'd gone shopping; they had been surviving on takeaway and whatever baked goods Peter brought to Order meetings.
His grin widened. "No. I'm making you dinner."
His proud smile was adorable, but she grimaced when she remembered the last time he had attempted to cook. The entire flat had filled with smoke, and it had taken all of Mary's cleaning expertise to remove the blackened remnants of egg from their best frying pan."You don't know how to cook."
He crossed his arms. "Yes I do. I asked Twinkletoes to show me. And then Mary helped me do a practice run."
She imagined James in his parents' kitchen, watching with rapt attention as their house elf demonstrated the proper way to roast a chicken. A laugh rose in her throat, but she choked it back.
"You did a practice run? Where was I?"
"Doing a patrol," he said, a smug note in his tone. "Padfoot ate it. He said it was delicious." He glanced over at her and smirked. "I know what you're thinking – that Padfoot will eat anything, even Bertie Bott's that fall on the ground, but Mary and I ate it too, and it was actually good. I think you'll be impressed."
She shrugged. "I'll take your word for it. What are you making?"
He leaned in to kiss her, and she tasted champagne on his lips. "It's a surprise."
"Alright," she said again, resting her feet on the coffee table. "Should I just sit here, then, so I can't see what you're doing in the kitchen?"
"Yes please." He stood up and went into the bedroom, then returned a moment later with a paperback clutched in his hand. "I borrowed this from Moony for you to read while I cook." He tapped the cover and added, "He said it's about burning books, which he thought would interest you, since you're a page-folding savage who enjoys destroying books – his words, not mine."
She laughed and accepted the novel, then tucked her feet underneath her and opened the book to the first page. They had agreed not to discuss Order business or any sort of bad news, and as she sipped champagne and listened to James puttering around in the kitchen, she could almost imagine their biggest worry was eating burnt dinner. Sighing and draping a blanket over her lap, she settled into the book.
She was halfway through the first chapter when she heard the first "Fuck." When she glanced over her shoulder, James scolded her for peeking, so she returned to her book with an exasperated sigh. Not more than a minute later, she heard a splat and a louder "Fuck."
"Do you need help in there?" she asked, biting her lip to keep from laughing.
"I'm all set," James said, his voice clipped and muffled by the sound of a whisk hitting the side of a bowl. "Everything's fine in here. Keep reading your book."
A wide grin spread across Lily's face as she followed his instructions. After a few more pages, she heard a crash followed by a pained, "Oh no." She tried to sneak another look at the kitchen, but she didn't want to make James nervous, so she kept her face buried in the book and tried to ignore her curiosity.
A few minutes later, a burning smell tickled Lily's nose. Frowning, she set down her book and turned to see smoke billowing from the kitchen. James stood beside the sink, his face drawn into a worried scowl. There was a streak of flour across his cheek and a glob of something slimy on his t-shirt. Behind him, she saw a pile of dishes filling the sink.
"I think it might be done," she said, fighting to keep her expression neutral.
James cast an apprehensive glance at the oven before he opened the door, releasing more smoke into the air. He pointed his wand inside and levitated out a blackened, smoking pie.
"Oh no," he said, dropping it onto the counter and covering his face with his hands. His fingers had been coated in flour, so when he pulled them away there was even more white dusted across his face. "I don't know what I did wrong. I did all the same things when I did the test run, and it came out fine…"
The disappointment on his face broke her heart. She rose and hurried across the room, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her lips against his. Flour and the unknown slimy substance transferred onto her, but she didn't care. He smelled like burnt pie crust, and there was flour even in his hair, and she thought she'd never seen him look so bloody adorable.
"I'm sorry, Evs," he said, looking at the burnt pie in dismay. "I know it doesn't look like it, but I really tried. I wanted to make you a nice dinner, but I must've messed up somehow. Now you're going to go hungry and waste away."
She giggled and brushed flour from the tip of his nose. "I'm not going to waste away. Maybe we can just scrape off the burnt bit." The pie nearly burnt her fingers as she used a knife to remove the blackened top crust, but she gave up when she found the middle soupy and raw.
"I'm the worst cook in the entire world," he said, sinking down onto the floor and leaning his head back against the oven.
She settled beside him and linked her arm through his. "No you're not. Have you seen Padfoot try to cook?"
He laughed and ran a hand through his hair, sending a flurry of flour into the air. "Well, that doesn't make me feel much better. This was supposed to be a romantic gesture for our anniversary, and I've gone and made a mess of it."
"James." She took his face in her hands, not caring about the residual flour. "This is incredibly sweet. I know you wanted it to turn out perfectly, but it means a lot that you tried to do this for me even though it's not something you're naturally good at. So even if the execution wasn't the best, the thought was there." Her stomach rumbled as she kissed him, but she ignored it, savoring the familiar taste of his lips. "I love you."
"I love you too." He deepened the kiss, twining his hands in her hair, then guided her down onto the floor. She was sliding her hand under his t-shirt when he gave a startled cry.
"What?" she asked, pulling her hand away and looking at him in alarm.
He grinned and shook his head. "It's okay, I just put my hand in the egg I dropped earlier." He wiped his hand on his trousers, then inched them away from the spill. "I'm sorry about dinner."
A slight heat still radiated from the oven as she slipped her hand under his t-shirt again, trailing her nails lightly down his back. "It's okay. I'm not hungry anymore."
His hand was slightly sticky as he began to tug at the waistband of her trousers, but she didn't mind. "I think you should still eat. But we can wait a while."