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Chapter Eleven – Slow Burn

The water hit his shoulder and he immediately felt his muscles ease. It was strange how something he found so relaxing was also so exhausting, but that was Quidditch alright. He let his head sag a little while the cold shower washed over him, it was, as always, a feeling he relished in. The cold drops soothed his aching limbs as if caressing each part of him, the nape of his neck, the bruise on his ribcage, his overworked legs, and he prolonged the minutes under the blessed downpour. Slowly he closed the handle and reached for his towel in a mechanic movement. Enough time wasted; he had to get going.

He carelessly grabbed the first pair of clean clothes out of his sports bag, an old pair of track shorts (so worn off that the color was undefinable) and a black long sleeved hooded t-shirt that he didn't think was his, and put them on without second thought. He flashed a look at the mirror while attempting (fruitlessly) to tame his hair. He threw his used clothes in the bag's other side and put on his trusty trainers. He called out some cheers to his friends and started walking towards the Heads' Dorm distractedly. He loved being outside, he loved that feeling of the wind sweeping through him and he wished he could enjoy it more often. He remembered when he was eight and his mum used to tell him an ancient Spanish myth about the Santa Ana's warm wind, how strange and impossible things happened whenever that warm wind blew. He smiled and made a mental note to write to his mother later. He had been skivvying off his duties as a son lately, since he seemed to have acquired quite a few other duties.

They had agreed to meet today and go over the plans for Halloween next week and she had volunteered her Saturday night. Just like that. At first he didn't think too much of it, but later he couldn't help but feel a little jittery. It was just that two years ago he would never believe possible for her to voluntarily spend time with him, much less on a Saturday night. But then again, they were both very different people from two years ago. He smiled when he thought about how his mother had told him of how when she had first met his father she had sworn to hate him for all eternity, but later when Charles had grown up she couldn't help but fall for him. His smile grew even wider: could history repeat itself? For Godric and everything sacred he hoped so. He was almost there when he bumped into some fifth year girls (the ones who giggled the most) and pretended not to notice the extensive ogling that ensued. Suddenly feeling a little self-conscious, he looked closer at his clothes and wished that he had payed more attention earlier: it was not everyday he got to spend at least a good hour alone with her. But now that ship has sailed, he thought, and he pronounced the password to their shared dorm.

X - X - X - X - X – X

She was sitting in the common room alone; she already had the fire cracking, the books ready and she had even gone so far as to get them some treats in case he got hungry (he had been at the Quidditch pitch all that time). She was distractedly making everything perfect so they could work better (or so she told herself) when a soft hooting sound caught her attention. Her owl, Elvis, was standing there. He was a rather dark owl, an almost black shade of grey, with a proud stance. She went closer and patted him softly whilst stripping his leg of the letter it carried. He hooted happily again and nuzzled against her hand quickly before darting out the window.

A smile played her lips while she closed the tall window and went to read next to fire. She still had at least ten minutes before James arrived. She looked at the white envelope: she hoped it was her father's. She had just written him a lengthy letter the day before and hoped he had already replied. She quickly found out she was to be disappointed, for her mothers neat scrawl was on the outside of the envelope. She sighed and, sitting down, tore the paper open and began reading. It had not been five sentences and her blood was already boiling. She felt tears form in her eyes but she refused to cry over her. If she wanted to act like that, then it was just fine. If she wanted to marry that bloody walrus and listen about bleeding oil drills for the rest of her bloody life while continuously ignoring her sister, then it was perfectly fine with Lily. She took a few calming breaths and continued reading. "Lily, dear, we're all excited that your sister's wedding is in just a couple weeks! Daddy and I are also incredibly happy that we'll get to have you at home even if only for a couple days." She read. It was all such bollocks. Ok, maybe not all, but she knew for a fact that her parents didn't like Vernon the walrus anymore than she did. She sighed and in a fit of anger, ripped a small piece of the paper and threw it in the fire. She watched happily while it burned; getting some strange kind of satisfaction from it, she decided to rip another little piece. This time she floated it into the fire and watched marveled when it turned to ashes. "How's that for spiteful behavior, Pet?".

She heard the portrait move slowly and heard his cheerful whistling. He was always cheerful after flying, she had noticed. His eyes had that irresistible golden tone, his skin had that perfect glow and his messy locks were indisputably wild: it was impossible not to look. In fact, it was damn near impossible not to stare. He walked in with a happy spring in his step and she couldn't help the smile that took her lips despite her foul mood. She remembered once having asked Remus how he could make Alice smile when it seemed no one else could, and his friend only replied "You'd have to know him. I think you'd really like him if you did." She felt a faint blush spread on her cheeks –oh, how right had he been. She saw him pause when he noticed her sitting on the couch and her favorite crooked grin spread on his lips making her heart do a strange dance. She hoped he didn't notice. His eyes rested on the miniature balls of paper her hands had been forming inadvertently and he raised an inquisitive brow.

"Something the matter?" -His velvet voice asked while he sat himself on the other corner of the same sofa she was in. The delicious smell from his freshly showered form hit her unexpectedly.

"Just family stuff." -Her thoughts were momentarily strained to get back to her shortening letter, and her voice came out involuntarily bitter.

"Oh... some sibling rivalry?" -He returned, trying to make it light, but his eyes were serious.

"Something like that..." -She let herself trail off, releasing a sigh. "She is getting married, the wedding is in two weeks." She exhaled sharply.

"I see." - His eyes flickered to the crumpled paper and a small smirk appeared. "Maybe I could help, then? There is a reason I'm on the team."

She smiled, he grabbed one tiny ball and threw it exactly in the middle of the fire with a flourish.

"Score!" -He fake cheered himself and she felt herself smile even wider.

"Nice one, Potter." -She praised in an impression of one of his many team peers.

"Wow, a compliment!" -He mocked with his raspy tone. Her eyes turning to slits, but he continued. "You better take cover, Lil, I'm sure it won't be long before the four horsemen arrive."

"Funny, Potter." -She said, trying to keep a straight face –but her lips twitched. "Don't push your luck."

She tried to glare at him but the smell coming from him was too intoxicating. It was like rain and grass and mint all thrown together and it went from her nose directly to the hairs in the back of her neck. She threw another paper ball into the fire and closed her eyes taking a deep breath, at the same trying to get Petunia out of her head and enjoying his scent. It really didn't help. She didn't really remember why they were meeting anymore, her mind unable to focus with so many conflicting emotions. It was always hard to focus when James was around but now her brain couldn't settle on a topic, it kept going from lustful to angry, to sad, to infatuated then back to angry. She exhaled sharply and opened her eyes. He was looking directly at her, a pensive look on his striking features. She tried to smile and get herself together but the smile came out strangled. In one of those graceful silent movements only he could manage, he brought her head to rest on his chest, his large squared calloused hands stroking her red curls.

"Lil." -He said gently with a low tone that made her skin tingle. "I'm a bit worn out today, maybe we could just relax?"

She considered answering but instead adjusted herself on his torso and nodded. She didn't have to look to know he was smiling.

X - X - X - X - X - X

He looked at her, her head resting innocently on his chest, her long tresses splashed all over his shirt. Her sweet breath making her rise and fall slowly and rhythmically, lulling him to sleep. His large fingers twirled a lone curl and he wished he could make the moment last forever. It was silly, really, how much the simple fact of her body touching his made him feel just so... whole. Like he didn't notice that he had been missing a limb and someone just came and reattached it. She smelled faintly like cocoa and it just made him want to be even closer. She parted her lips a little and exhaled; the hot air settling in his shirt while her hands silently snaked to his back. He smiled at her, wishing there was any way he could help her with these complicated things that were family issues. He hadn't seen her cry, but he knew she had because her cheeks were lightly stained. She mumbled something quietly and shifted her weight from on side to the other while he tried to remain as still as possible so as to not break the magic. Minutes ticked by but he didn't notice. He didn't want to fall asleep but his eyelids were heavy. He wanted to stay awake, because he figured that, just this once, reality was better than fantasy.