Author's Note: The football incident is ripped entirely from a real-life experience that was possibly one of the most inadvertently romantic rescues I've ever witnessed. Also props to my brother for the crazy dream I stole from him for this story.
Chapter Five: Tea and Biscuits
He never should have flirted with Jane.
James wasn't sure what possessed him to do it, because from the beginning, he had never intended for their talks to turn that way, especially considering how he'd found her number in the first place. He respected Jane. He wanted her to feel respected. Moreover, he was totally infatuated with a totally different girl, and Jane knew about it.
Things with Evans were hopeless, though. Gossip told him that her date with McNamee had gone nowhere – looking back on it now, James didn't find that surprising, because she hadn't seemed particularly enthused by his presence – but nothing else had happened to give him any hope. He'd had a window of opportunity in which he could have told her that he'd sent the flowers, but it was nearing the end of March now, and he knew he'd let it pass him by.
Lily didn't seem to have so much as a glance to spare him, and the days of sitting next to her in assembly were long gone. But Jane... she seemed to like it when he flirted with her, and now he couldn't seem to stop. He liked it, too. He was ashamed of that.
It made him feel devious and selfish. Jane wasn't a receptacle for his pent-up sexual frustration, she was a person – a brilliant person – and smart, so smart that she was bound to start feeling used at some point. That might be enough to end their friendship, and didn't want to lose her. She was so sweet, and so fun, countering his most ridiculous statements with her effortless wit, always happy to laugh at his silliness, but never to the point where it made him feel stupid. Lily made him feel stupid merely by existing, though that wasn't her fault, because she was poised on a pedestal that James had built for her, which meant, really, that James had doomed that relationship from the first.
Was it possible to like two girls at once? Was it possible, even, to like Jane in that way, when he couldn't know for sure if he was attracted to her or not? It felt disloyal to Evans to even consider it, but why, he didn't know. She wasn't his girlfriend. He owed her nothing. His entire attachment to her was completely imagined, but still, he'd spent two years of his life pining after her, and it would be such a waste to let that all go.
But Jane... she felt like such a good fit for him in every other way. She made being himself feel so natural. She understood him and he understood her. She was...
"Lily Evans, clearly," said his mother, handing him back his phone.
If James hadn't already set her cocoa down on the coffee table, he probably would have spilled it all over her. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," she said, and pulled her blanket up to her chin. "That's the feeling I get."
"Why?"
"Because I want it to be Lily."
"Wanting something won't magically make it happen."
"Yes it will," she said, and paused to let out a violent cough, balling her hand into a fist and pressing it against her chest as if that would stifle it. "It's the law of attraction. Envision and receive. I do it, and I usually get what I want."
"That's because you're you."
"You're my son, and you've lived a charmed life so far," she reminded him.
James had never intended to tell her about Jane, but she'd 'accidentally' picked up his phone while he was in the shower, 'accidentally' unlocked it because he was self-involved enough to use his own date of birth for a passcode, then 'accidentally' read a week's worth of conversations. When confronted, she claimed to have been concerned that he was texting a drug dealer because of Jane's obviously fake name, then concluded that keeping a secret girlfriend from his mother was worse, and that she hoped he was proud of his villainy.
He then had to convince his mother that Jane wasn't his girlfriend, a truth she only believed once he disclosed the backstory behind their acquaintance, including the contest. Now, she thought she had it all figured out.
"Even if Jane is Evans," he began, his stomach squirming at the thought, though he truly, honestly felt that she wasn't because the one thing James could never, ever hope to deserve was a minute of that girl's time. "She doesn't fancy me, so she'd just—"
"Lily does fancy you."
"No, she doesn't."
"Yes," said Euphemia gently. "She does."
"How'd you know?"
"She got all flustered when we ran into her in Sainsbury's—"
"She was embarrassed because she was holding tampons."
"Nonsense. She's a sensible girl, she'd hardly be embarrassed by her own period."
"Maybe she'd turned red with anger because the sight of me ruined her day."
Euphemia patted the sofa, so James sat down, his body collapsing with an inherent physical moodiness that only a teenage boy could achieve, and dropped his head on his mother's shoulder.
"You dramatic little thing," she cooed.
"Blame your DNA."
"I blame myself for the drama, and your father for everything else," she wheezed. "Now, if you'd only drop a little hint to Lily that you're this Prongs character—"
"I can't do that, we never talk."
"It can't be that hard to run into her in a corridor."
"I wouldn't know how to make it seem natural."
"It doesn't matter, if she's not Jane, she won't understand what you mean."
"And she'll think I'm more of a nutcase than she already does."
"She doesn't think you're a nutcase."
"She does."
"For the love of god, James, do you want my advice or not?"
"No."
"Well, you're getting it anyway."
"I'll ignore it."
"Oh, I know, and you'll regret your decision," she said, and kissed the side of his head. "It's so much fun to watch you fall flat on your face."
Text Received from: Prongs
Sent to: Jane Doe, on Sunday, 1st April 2018 at 1:57pm
...
Prongs: so i thought i'd come out and tell you that i'm terry heaney
Jane Doe: Happy April Fools to you too.
What, you think I was born yesterday?
Prongs: lol you're too smart for me
Jane Doe: I was just about to text you, actually.
I was out last night and my phone ran out of battery so I didn't get a chance.
Is your mum feeling any better?
Prongs: loads better, thanks!
she had a course of antibiotics and that cleared up her chest so she's fine
Jane Doe: That's a relief!
I'm glad it wasn't something more serious, I had my fingers and toes crossed for her.
Prongs: i know, i told her and she said you're a sweetheart
Jane Doe: Your mum knows about me?
Prongs: yeah, haha, she figures everything out, there's no point in keeping secrets from her
she thinks i should ask you out
Jane Doe: I thought she was a big supporter of you and Dream Girl?
Prongs: she is
she thinks you're dream girl
Jane Doe: She does? Why?
Prongs: oh, she calls it mother's intuition or something idk
anyway i told her we were in a fight to the death
Jane Doe: Are we?
Prongs: absolutely?
i'm 100% not going to let you beat me at guessing
i've already knocked a few names off my list
Jane Doe: Like who?
Prongs: helena hodge, obviously
you're not amy price or eliza stubbs either
and you're not mary macdonald
Jane Doe: Reasons?
Prongs: helena hodge is crazy
price isn't smart enough
stubbs is... well, you know
Jane Doe: Yeah.
Prongs: and macdonald is wicked cool but she fancies sirius black and you
lovely jane
do not
Jane Doe: That's true. Right on all counts.
Prongs: anyway, my mum told me to tell you that you're invited to dinner once you guess who i am
she says i'm too thick to see the obvious
whatever that means
Jane Doe: Your mum seems like someone I'd get along with.
Prongs: she's so much cooler than i am
we should hang out though
after i win the contest
Jane Doe: I'd love to hang out after you lose the contest.
I've got your mother on my side now.
Plus, I've knocked waaaaaay more names off my list than you.
Prongs: Like who?
Jane Doe: Well, obviously you're not Terry Heaney.
You're not Sirius Black, which you've already told me.
You're also not Evan McNamee, Nick Crabtree, Curtis Higgins, Parvinder Aga, David Corrigan, Remus Lupin or Robert Sanderson.
Prongs: how did you get rid of that many names?!
Jane Doe: Simple.
They all have android phones, and you, lovely boy, do not.
Or hadn't you noticed that we've been iMessaging this whole time?
Prongs: holy shit
you're a genius
Jane Doe: I am, I know.
And it only took you two-and-a-half months to notice.
Text Received from: Jane Doe
Sent to: Prongs, on Thursday, 12th April 2018 at 7:23pm
...
Jane Doe: I had a dream about you last night.
Obviously, not the real you, because I'm pretty sure you're not the person whose face I envisioned.
But I knew it WAS you, if that makes any sense.
Prongs: omg you flirt
who was i?
someone handsome i assume
Jane Doe: I'm not telling you that part.
In the dream you were really upset because you'd gotten a second cat but then your original cat got offended and moved in with McGonagall, and then the second cat had to go back to her original owners because there'd been a mix-up in the sale, and then someone stole my blazer. But like, why the fuck was I wearing a blazer? And you needed to be consoled because you had lost two cats, but I was like, desperately searching for this missing blazer so you got angry at me.
Prongs: yeah but was I handsome?
Jane Doe: How can that be your takeaway from my dream?
Prongs: takeaway sounds good
chinese or pizza?
Jane Doe: You have the concentration of a gnat.
Prongs: or of a stagly stag
seriously though was i handsome?
Jane Doe: JESUS CHRIST!
You were Aladdin, okay?
You were the animated character Aladdin.
I didn't want to tell you in case you got offended, but this is what you've reduced me to.
You brought all of this on yourself.
Prongs: by any chance
do you think
that aladdin is handsome
Jane Doe: How are we friends?
Prongs: because i'm a loveable rogue from the streets of agrabah and you're a trapped princess who just wants to be free
Jane Doe: You're going to be seriously disappointed if you think I look anything like Princess Jasmine.
Or if you think that by marrying me you can somehow come into wealth.
Prongs: i have no idea what you're talking about
i've never even seen aladdin
i was discussing our real life situations
actually i've just checked online and aladdin is definitely the handsomest of the disney men so i'll take it
thank you jane
Jane Doe: I hope your cat does move in with McGonagall.
Prongs: apu would never abandon me
Jane Doe: LMFAO Apu.
No, he'd just overthrow you and steal your identity, according to you.
Prongs: his personality type is evil/loyal
one day he might kill me but he'd never let anyone else do it
Jane Doe: I wish I'd never brought up this stupid dream.
Speaking of dreams, how are things with Dream Girl?
Prongs: lol nonexistent and painful
i'd ask you how things are with your crush but considering the dream you just had, we all know that's me
Jane Doe: Oh, how I love it when I find you in one of your particularly arrogant moods.
Prongs: xoxo thanks
Jane Doe: Sarcasm doesn't translate well via text, does it?
Prongs: it translated fine
i just chose to ignore it
by the way, i actually had something serious i wanted to discuss with you
if you're not, like, busy or anything
Jane Doe: Sure, discuss away.
Prongs: are you sure?
it's kind of heavy
and i haven't really talked about it with anyone else
but it's been keeping me up at night and i really think i need to get it off my chest
Jane Doe: Yeah, of course, you can always talk to me.
Prongs: are you sure?
Jane Doe: Yes, always. What's going on?
Prongs: okay
it's just
god, this is so awkward
but
do you think aladdin is handsome?
Jane Doe: OH MY GOD I hate you.
Yes.
Prongs: xoxo thanks
Text Received from: Prongs
Sent to: Jane Doe, on Monday, 23rd April 2018 at 11:24pm
...
Prongs: i hate it when i can't sleep
Jane Doe: Neither can I and it's driving me crazy.
I mean, I cannot convey to you enough how much I wish I was asleep and how angry I am that I'm not.
Prongs: have you got another headache?
do you need a hug?
i can't hug you but if i hug my pillow and you hug your pillow we can pretend
Jane Doe: No, I'm okay, I think.
My stupid sister's boyfriend is sleeping over downstairs. Again.
A hug sounds lovely, though.
Prongs: aaaaaaaahh i see, now it all makes sense
what did he do this time?
and do i have permission to hide sardines in his curtain pole?
Jane Doe: What? No!
Where do you get your ideas?
Prongs: from my amazing brain
it'll stink up his house and he'll never know where it came from
he'll just keep cleaning and cleaning and cleaning and never know
seriously though what did he say
Jane Doe: Nothing, really.
He was just his usual, immigrant-hating, UKIP cretin/frog man self.
He did make some comment about how it's such a shame that I'm not tall and blonde like my sister, because obviously not being blonde and tall makes you a one-eyed hunchback.
Looks seem to be all he cares about, yet he's the fattest, most disgusting person you'll ever see.
His CHINS have chins.
Which is like, fine, I'd never fat shame anyone but he's always putting my looks down for no reason and like ? How dare he?
Prongs: it's because he's not clever enough to pick at anything else
because you'd wipe the floor with him
Jane Doe: You think?
Prongs: you wipe the floor with me on a daily basis
and i'm actually intelligent
it might not seem like i am because you're so much smarter than me but it's true
Jane Doe: I think you're intelligent!
Also thank you for always making me feel better.
Prongs: no problem
ignore that idiot, he's jealous and full of shit and probably frustrated because he fancies you more than he fancies your sister, so he pretends not to by going after the way you look
i mean, i have no idea what you look like except i'm guessing not blonde
which by the way already makes you fitter than your sister imo
but obviously you are a 10 and he's a - 2595
Jane Doe: Lol, no I'm not.
Prongs: shut up you are
Jane Doe: How would you know?
Prongs: i can tell
through the phone
radio waves or whatever
Jane Doe: Lol, you weirdo.
So you're not into blondes?
Prongs: nah, not my thing
Jane Doe: Brunettes then?
Prongs: what do you normally do when you can't sleep?
Jane Doe: Are you avoiding answering the question?
Prongs: maybe you could listen to some whale sounds
Jane Doe: You are avoiding the question.
Interesting.
I'm already listening to Mr. McBackstab snoring. Isn't that a whale sound in itself?
What do you do when you can't sleep?
In general, I mean, not when Padfoot is staying over and keeping you awake with HIS snoring.
Prongs: um
you probably don't want to know
Jane Doe: What? Why?
Prongs: just trust me
Jane Doe: Oh god.
You have a wank, don't you?
Prongs: ...
Jane Doe: OMMMMGGGGGGGGGGGG!
Prongs: i'm a boy!
Jane Doe: I know!
Prongs: i can't help it!
Jane Doe: I need to stop laughing or I'll wake everyone.
So, what, you lie there and think about Dream Girl?
Prongs: well
i suppose yes mostly
but not so much recently
Jane Doe: Graduated to watching porn on your phone under the covers, have you?
The same phone you TEXT ME WITH?
Prongs: oh my god
Jane Doe: WOULD YOU TEXT YOUR MOTHER WITH THAT PHONE?
Prongs: shut up also one time she walked in on me during
Jane Doe: OH MY GOD
Prongs: no it gets worse
i didn't notice she was there
Jane Doe: ?!
WHAT?! HOW?!
Prongs: my back was to the door!
i had headphones on!
Jane Doe: Oh my god, I'm crying.
What did she do?
Please tell me you weren't listening to Careless Whisper.
You gave me that song don't take it away from me.
Prongs: i'd never defile that song!
she left a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits
Jane Doe: Oh my god.
Sometimes I love you, honestly.
Tea and biscuits!
I'm dying.
Prongs: lol no don't die
i have so many other humiliating stories to share with you in exchange for your affection
Jane Doe: You'll literally do anything for attention, won't you?
Prongs: yup
especially if it's from you
"Have you gone off Potter?"
Lily looked up from the book she was pretending to read and fixed Mary with a frown. "What?"
"Sorry," said Mary, with an apologetic wince. "I haven't wanted to mention him since the whole Valentine-cinema-disaster thing, but I was just curious."
"Oh."
"Is everything, like, alright with him? You're not—"
"Still obsessed?"
"With that peachy bottom of his," said Mary slyly. "Essentially, yeah."
It was a beautiful day in late April, so the two girls had elected to spend a cluster of free periods outside, sitting in their favourite spot by the sports field – Lily with her copy of Ivanhoe and Mary with the electronic drawing pad she had gotten as an early birthday present – ignoring the sounds of a raucous football match that was happening nearby, in which James Potter was actively participating. Hence the book. Lily had committed herself to getting over her stupid crush on that stupid boy, which meant keeping her eyes off him while he and his tremendous arse ran around in a pair of shorts, occasionally shouting at Peter Pettigrew to get out of the corner.
She took a sneaky glance every now and then, like dipping into a bag of unhealthy snacks. Prongs was making it easier to move on from Potter than Lily had anticipated - though having a crush on someone she couldn't see was a perilous thing that ultimately hadn't made her life any easier - but it couldn't hurt to look at him, especially when he lifted his t-shirt to mop his brow, and even more especially when the sun glinted in his damp, coal-black hair.
If she could put Prongs's vibrant personality inside Potter's beautiful body, she would literally have the perfect man, and neither of them would be interested in her.
"I haven't gone off him, exactly," she told Mary, after taking a moment to ruminate on this. "But what am I supposed to do? Wait around for him to start fancying me?"
Mary chewed on her lower lip. Lily knew what she was holding back. "Well, you definitely seem a lot more chilled out about him lately."
"I asked him if he liked me, he said no, and yeah, he's fit and I like looking at him, but at some point you have to move on with your life."
"Move on to?"
"What?"
"To who?"
"What do you mean, to who?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out," said Mary. She shifted closer to Lily, her bottom scraping against the grass, no doubt bound to stain. "Do you like someone else?"
Yes, she thought. And then, I really don't want to get into this. "No."
"Because, I dunno, you're acting a bit—"
"Normal?"
"Happy," said Mary firmly. "But like, 'I've just met a new guy,' happy, not 'I got yet another A in English' or 'this is my fifteenth cat video of the day' happy."
"Or 'I'm finally over my idiotic crush' happy?"
"If that's true, why are we sitting out here?"
"Because he's - I'm sorry, can we go back to discussing exactly how you decide what form my happiness is taking?" said Lily, and closed her book on her thumb. "Do I have a diamond over my head like one of the Sims? What?"
"It's more of a smile you do," said Mary thoughtfully, and drummed her polished fingernails on Lily's outer thigh. "When you're on your phone - which you are a lot lately, by the way, and I can tell you're texting because of the way you giggle."
Lily felt a telltale blush in her cheeks, but ignored it. "I giggle?"
"Yeah, it's like - remember the other night at Alice's?"
"I told you I was texting my mother."
"Right, and I'm the Pope."
"It's an honour to meet you, in that case."
Mary gave her a laugh for her trouble. "Look, if you're not ready to tell—"
"Heads up!" someone shouted.
She and Mary looked towards the source of the voice at once, just in time to see a football rocketing directly towards them, hurtling through the air at too great a speed for either of them to dodge it, and absolutely, without question, poised to smack Lily directly in the face.
Until James Potter appeared out of nowhere like a speeding bullet, leapt in front of her and smashed it away – so close that Lily could feel a breeze from the movement – spinning whilst suspended in mid-air like some sort of graceful, scissor-kicking knight in shining armour, and landed on one foot, facing her directly, with an infuriating kind of ease, as if rescuing girls from rouge footballs was just something he fucking did, casually, or as if he'd sensed that Lily was starting to move on from him and felt compelled to make a thirsty, salivating animal of her once again.
"Are you alright, Evans?" he he said, his breath coming out in a pant, looking down at her with a concerned expression. Someone on the pitch - Sirius, probably - gave a loud, obnoxious hoot.
"I'm fine," said Lily.
"We're fine," added Mary, who had scrambled backwards and ended up on her back, propped up on her elbows - in sharp contrast to Lily who had remained exactly where she is, outwardly disaffected but inwardly stunned. "Thanks for asking."
Lily ignored her. "Where did you—"
"I was over there," said Potter, pointing to his left. "And I saw - um - here, sorry." He took a step towards her and held out his hand. "Let me help you up."
A hot, swooping, nauseating feeling seared her insides, but he'd offered, so she slipped her hand inside his and let him pull her to her feet, which he did with ease despite his understandably sweaty palm.
"Thank you," she said, when she was standing - though still, he towered over her. She bushed nonexistent crumbs from her skirt for want of something to do. "That was pretty impressive, Potter."
He let out an awkward laugh, his hand jumping to tangle in his hair. "Nah, it wasn't real—"
"Yes, it was," Mary seconded, having stood up without any assistance from handsome, sweating boys. "You saved my girl's life."
"Bit of an exaggeration, Mary," Lily reminded her.
"Well, then he saved your pretty face."
Lily threw her a look. "That one I'll let slide, but only because I like having my vanity pampered."
"Is it having your vanity pampered to have Potter as your own personal superhero?"
"Oh," said Potter, his eyes going wide. "I'm no superhero."
"Oh, I think you are," said Mary, with a wicked grin. "That was some serious Spider-Man shit we just saw."
"Yeah, really," Lily agreed. "Like out of a movie."
"Seriously, I wish I'd filmed it."
"We're both in agreement on this, Potter, so you're just going to have to deal with it."
"Alright," he agreed, looking pleased, and with another awkward, stilted laugh. "Just call me the Commodore, I guess."
Lily laughed, as did Mary, but while her friend went on to ask Potter why he'd choose a naval rank as an alter-ego, something clunked in her brain like a brick dropped in water, throwing her, and the ground beneath her feet, and the sky above her head and the air in her lungs, into a sudden, shocking tailspin.
The Commodore. That stupid, nonsensical nickname. She'd laughed at that before. She'd read it before. She'd read it when—
And he had—
So he was—
And they'd been—
Oh, shit.