2018 Resolutions: Write a fic set in Marauders Era

365 Prompts Challenge: (title) Starlight

Bath Bomb Appreciation: Write about kissing someone your character shouldn't

Buttons: JamesNarcissa, pretty

Restriction of the Month: No characters older than 20 (Marauders Era)

Word Count: 757

The Astronomy Tower is where she feels the most alive. There's something about the fresh air and the twinkling stars above her that makes Narcissa feel at peace. Here, while everyone else sleeps, there are no expectations. She is not a perfect little Pureblood burdened with pressure and tradition; she is just Narcissa Black.

The footsteps behind her draw her out of her thoughts. She turns, her heart racing, ready to offer some feeble excuse as to why she's out of bed after curfew. Instead of a professor, however, she's greeted by a boy with messy hair and hazel eyes.

"Potter," she says curtly.

"That's me!" he retorts, a cheeky grin pulling at his lips.

"I came up here to be alone."

He shrugs and moves closer. "You don't own the castle," he laughs, leaning against the railing. "I suppose we could always call a professor over to help settle this, but I'm sure you don't want to be caught after curfew."

Narcissa fixes her gaze pointedly ahead. Though she's annoyed, she can't help but smile. Most people give in to her every whim. There's something almost satisfying about his stubbornness.

"What brings you out here so late?" he asks, breaking the silence between them. "Normal people like to sleep at half three."

"You're one to talk."

He turns to her, that brilliant grin still on his lips. "The day someone accuses me of being normal will be the day someone accuses Snape of having good hair."

"That's mean!" And yet Narcissa cannot help but giggle.

James shrugs before adjusting his glasses. "Back to my question. Why are you up here?"

Narcissa glances at him, her heart fluttering. Why is it so tempting to open up to James? They aren't friends; until this moment, neither have even spoken to the other. There's something warm and inviting about him, though. He feels safe, like could bury her secrets inside his soul and know that he'll never betray them.

After a moment, she lets out a weary sigh. Her eyes flicker back to the stars that twinkle above them. "Over the holidays, I became engaged," she answers.

"Congratulations?"

"To Lucius Malfoy."

James makes a sound like he's about to vomit. "Git," he says bluntly. "Forget my congratulatory sentiment."

Again, Narcissa is surprised to find herself laughing. She's so used to hearing people talk about how wonderful Lucius is and what an honor it is to marry into the Malfoy family. It's nice to have someone who refuses to kiss their ass. James Potter may be a Pureblood, but he's so different from the ones she's used to.

"I don't even know if I love him or if I could learn to love him," she continues. "I've never even kissed anyone else, and…"

She trails off, her cheeks burning. James may be safe, but she also knows she shouldn't trust him with everything. At the end of the day, he's still a Gryffindor. Some rivalries aren't meant to be broken.

He offers her his hand. For a moment, Narcissa can only stare at it in confusion. With a laugh, he takes her hand and pulls her closer. "Well, I can't let your first kiss be with someone as despicable as Malfoy," he says quietly.

Narcissa shivers as she realizes what's about to happen. She knows she shouldn't; even if she's unhappy, she's still engaged. Everything about this is wrong.

Somehow, she doesn't care. Her eyes close, and she leans in. He lips find hers, and there's an eruption of butterflies in her stomach. This is what it feels like to be kissed by someone who can actually love her. There is no force behind it, and they aren't putting on a show for the world to see. There is nothing but sincerity and tranquility on his lips.

When they break apart, she feels her heart drop to her stomach. She shouldn't have done that; it was a foolish thing to do. And yet, she smiles because it was so perfect. Bathed in the light of the moon and stars, she had received the most beautiful kiss, and she knows Lucius can never compete with that.

"Thank you," she mumbles, because she doesn't know what else to say.

"I assure you, the pleasure was all mean," he says. "It isn't often that I get a chance to kiss a pretty girl."

Silence falls between them again. Her eyes return to the sky.

Now, she doesn't feel so alone, and the smile she wears feels genuine. And it's all because of Potter.