Halloween is so close, I can taste it! :D

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter. This author knows Lily is not a good person here, she hopes you know she is not a good person here, this story is not condoning bad behavior, just exploring it, if you are uncomfortable you can always stop reading, I won't mind :) Art work by the super talented windbyfire (insta)

I Feel Like I'm Drowning ~ Two Feet

7th Year

"Evans, we need to talk," James practiced to his bathroom mirror, his eyes sleepy and his hair still in complete disarray. He had barely gotten a lick of sleep… too busy pondering the way Lily — Evans — had allowed him to lick her breasts the night before.

God she had great tits.

Focus. James wished he could slap the hormones straight out of himself. Now was not the time to get horny. Evans was going to wake up at any minute and casually stroll into this bathroom, and he had to be ready for her. He had to ask her what the hell was going on between them and what she wanted from him. He wasn't some type of sex doll that was pre-inflated for her pleasure and just floating around for whenever she was ready. She had to put some Merlindamn effort into this situation if she was serious about it; she had to blow him up herself. No, maybe don't say that—

Whatever the case may be, James knew that he was a catch, and he didn't want to be dicked around by some Slytherin just because she was bored. He didn't care that he couldn't seem to stop thinking about her, he deserved respect. So either they had an honest conversation, or James was telling her that whatever they were doing ended now.

He gave his reflection a quick nod, running a hand through his hair. He was ready.

Lily shuffled into the room moments later yawning, hair even crazier than his, wearing that deadly nightgown. Her moody look morphed into a wicked grin when she saw James, clearly used to him being long gone from their communal bathroom by now. She looked like a cat who had just walked in on a mouse stuck in a trap. Fuck, I'm so not ready.

"Still here, Potter?" She looked up at the clock that hung above the mirror. "Normally you've run away by now."

"I don't run a—" James cut himself off, closing his eyes and taking in a deep steadying breath. She was goading him, he knew that. Don't play. "I think we should talk, Evans."

"Okay." Lily hoisted herself onto the sink next to him, crossing one leg over the other. "What do you wanna talk about?"

James realized it would be best for his own preservation if he didn't look directly at her, much like one would avoid the gaze of a Basilisk. Instead of dying, he feared he'd burst into flames. Which would pretty much also kill me, but you know, whatever. Why the hell was he so nervous? He was James fucking Potter, girls didn't make him nervous. "What are we doing?"

"Well…" she sang delightfully. "Right now we're having a nice morning chat. After that, I'm gonna pop into the shower—"

"You know what I mean, Evans." His hazel eyes scorched as he finally returned her gaze, trying to impart the seriousness of this conversation to her.

She smirked at him as she slunk her upper body over one palm. "Having fun. Didn't you have fun?" Her eyes dropped to his crotch. Obviously he was wearing a brand new pair of joggers, but last night's mess could still have been stained right across the front for all the shame he was feeling. "It looked like you were having fun."

His cheeks burned.

"Aw," she whispered. "You know you're really cute when you're embarrassed." She uncrossed her legs and leaned forward like she was about to tell him a secret. "Don't worry, it happens to the best of them."

Her words made James think about something else that had kept him up all night: her past sexual history. He realized that he hardly knew anything about it. Sure, he'd heard rumors, a lot of them, but he'd never had any way of verifying if they were true other than that one time playing Truth of Dare. And he knew better than anyone that most rumors at Hogwarts were completely made up — whoever said shit first was believed, and the rest of the population was left playing catch up. Even when the rumors were about you. He knew she wasn't some blushing virgin — like him — and what she'd just said right now about the best of them made it seem like she'd had more than her fair share of hookups. But he wasn't sure of anything. All he really knew was that boys who bragged about bagging her did have this awfully mysterious tendency of ending up in the hospital wing. (He could respect that.)

"And you know what 'the best of them' are like… because…" he fished.

Lily tilted her head to the side, quick as ever. It was almost scary how much she seemed to pick up on all his physical cues. He wondered if it was a skill she'd been born with, or something she'd developed over the years to help her most effectively take down others. "Are you trying to ask me what my body count is?" James' eyes went wide. It was slightly terrifying when someone in a gang phrased it that way. "I'm not gonna tell you that." She hopped to her feet and stood in front of him. She really was so much shorter without heels; he felt like he could put his chin on top of her head. "Let's just say it's enough to know what I like…" her eyes roamed over him, "and what I don't like."

He gulped.

She grinned, watching his Adam's apple bob, clearly loving seeing his reactions. "Don't worry, I'm clean, if that's what you're stressed about." Actually, he hadn't even thought about that. He should definitely have thought of that.

James gathered up all his strength. "So just to be clear, all you want from me is a new fuck buddy?"

She blinked rapidly as though surprised. "Yeah… isn't that what you want?"

He took a step back. "No, I don't."

Her eyes narrowed as she watched him pull back, both physically and emotionally. "What do you mean?" she asked coldly.

James shrugged his shoulders even though his resolve was growing. "I want more than that."

"Like what?"

What did she mean, 'like what'?! How is that not readily obvious? "Like a relationship, Evans," James explained as though talking to a five year old.

Lily made a face. "I thought you agreed that you weren't going to keep fake dating people?"

James huffed. "It won't be fake then! But this—" he pointed between them, "—just hate hooking up like this? It's not for me." Even as he said it, he knew it would be impossible to carry through with his declaration, because even if there was another girl who he was even remotely interested in, which there isn't, he knew they would never stand a chance as long as Evans had any say in the matter. It was insane how much sway she already had in his life by merely expressing even the most trivial attraction to him. James knew that he would never be able to ignore her. And it wasn't like he could escape her.

She was still looking at him like he was speaking in a different tongue. "Are you asking me to be your girlfriend?"

"No!" James yelled instantly, shocking even himself. What was he asking her? He supposed this entire conversation had been pretty pointless. He wanted something that she'd never be able to give him, no matter how much he wished it had been her who could. A leopard couldn't switch their spots, and all that jazz. Perhaps the only thing he really could ask her to do was… leave him alone? But… he didn't want to. What the fuck. He tried again in a lower volume. "No, no, I'm not. I'm just letting you know that…" he ruffled his hair, this was rough, "last night was a mistake and won't happen again."

"And the night before that."

Shit. "Yeah, that too."

She nodded her head, totally making fun of him now. "Because you want more."

"Yup, more than you're willing to give me."

After studying him for a beat, she let out a little huff and walked away to the shower, turning on the faucet. The steam told him the water was scalding hot. "Because you want a white picket fence and a doting girlfriend who bakes you cookies and wears your jersey to your games."

"Yeah," James agreed, throwing his palms up. "Those things sound objectively lovely."

"Bullshit."

James snorted, turning to fully face her as he leaned back against the sink and crossed his arms over his chest. "Excuse me?"

"Bullshit. You knew we could never be a legitimate couple before we started hooking up and you still did it anyway."

"That's not—"

"What did you think was going to happen? You and I hold hands in public? Frolic through the halls? Use your head, Potter. My side would kill you in an instant, and yours?" She let out a cruel chuckle. "They'd ostracize you as fast as you can throw a Quaffle."

It was true, James knew it was. While the good guys wouldn't kill him, if they saw him with Lily they'd treat him like a social pariah until he wished he was dead. Guys like him weren't allowed to date girls like her. But that wasn't actually the reason that she didn't want a relationship with him, now was it? As far as James had been able to tell, Lily had never been in a serious relationship ever. It was like she'd never even tried. He bet she liked the independence of a casual hookup, thought herself better than trying to stick it out with just one person, while James? James was ready to devote his entire life to one girl right now if she'd let him. He knew it was silly, he knew he was a fool, but he couldn't help that he was wired to love deeply and hard. He'd always been that way. Sirius liked to joke that it should have been James whose Animagus was a dog — but like a loyal, happy-go-lucky golden retriever. He'd always punched him in the arm when he'd say it, but that would only make Sirius cackle and boop his nose saying, "Bad boy!" Remus had been more subtle about his teasing and said that he thought James should have been a penguin. (But how embarrassing would transforming into that animal be in the middle of a Scottish forest?) Either way, he and Evans were like oil and water — and that was why they would never work. "All the more reason to stop now," he told her.

Lily looked at him challengingly while she crossed an arm over to her chest so that she could slip her nightgown's straps down over her shoulder, one at a time. "Since when does James Potter do what other people tell him to do—" the silk fabric fell to the floor in a heap at her feet, "—instead of what he wants to do?"

James' fingernails dug into his biceps as he realized — Lily didn't wear underwear to bed. Part of him was surprised that it had taken him this long to see her fully naked form in their bathroom considering they were already several weeks into school… while the other part of him had just melted. "Uh—" he stammered as he slowly came back to life and turned around, gripping onto the edge of the sink as he leaned forward, eyes wide.

Lily smiled behind him. "We can just fool around in private. Fuck what everyone else thinks."

James shook his head, trying to remember all the reasons this was a bad idea. He could have sworn he'd just been thinking about them. He also watched her reflection as she stepped into the shower, water dripping down her backside. She had left the shower's door wide open. He knew it was only a few more seconds before steam would obscure his perfect view of her perfect body, and he was already dreading the loss. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck.

"Want to join me?" she called over her shoulder, throwing him a wink.

He did. Oh, did he ever. James tried to rapidly make a pros and cons list in his head. Cons: you'll never be official, you'll never be able to fall in love, she'll never love you back, she's not exactly someone you can bring home to mum, she's pretty friggin' mean, I might not survive her, I'll have to live with the shame of having lost it to a bitch, I won't be able to tell my mates I'm having sex… James switched over to the pros list as he turned back around, any expression other than unmitigated wonder draining from his face. Pros…

He was looking at her. And she was a pretty hard pro to dispute.

"The water's warm, c'mere."

James found himself walking towards her as though on autopilot. She was smiling at him so devilishly, her body slick and wet and naked. He stood at the shower's edge, unsure of what to do next.

Lily wasted no time grabbing a hold of the front of his shirt and yanking him in with her, drenching his hair and clothes. With something that bordered dangerously close to care, she reached for his glasses, folded them up, and put them on the built-in shelf of the marble wall. James' vision was blurred, but he still watched enraptured as the water that was running down his cheeks dribbled down onto hers, staring up at him. There were droplets clinging to her lashes, making her look even more like a fairy princess than ever before. James realized that this juxtaposition, of her looking so sweet while acting so wicked, was a huge part of her allure.

She ran her nails down the shirt that was clinging to him, and James could feel the slight sting. She was so gorgeous and so in control. Why was that so hot? Why was knowing that she could be doing anything in the world, but for some reason, she had chosen to play with him such a turn on? He started leaning in closer, wanting to kiss her. His mind was racing, and things just seemed to make a whole lot more sense when he was kissing her — like time stood still — but she stopped him. "Nah uh. On your knees."

What?

Before James could protest, Lily killed him with the simple phrase, "I need you to eat me out, Potter. Do you know how to do that?"

Of course I do! He screamed indignantly in his head. He merely managed to respond with a stiff nod, however.

She grinned. "Good."

James didn't know which urge was stronger: the one to prove his oral finesse in the face of her negging or his overwhelming desire to please her, but he dropped to his knees either way, looking up at her hazy face mesmorized.

She benevolently adjusted the stream of the shower so he wouldn't drown before cupping his cheek. "Am I your weakness, Potter?" He didn't answer. They both already knew that she was. Her thumb ran back and forth over his lips before her fingers dipped lower, holding him below his chin. James was starting to figure out that she really, really already loved his mouth. He obliged her by gently parting his lips, letting the tip of her thumb slip inside. The small gasp she made was reward enough. He made sure she was looking dead at him as he brought her thumb fully into his mouth, and sucked on it.

"Fuck," she breathed, and James' pride soared. He wanted to keep up; he wanted to impress her and make her knees buckle with the intensity of her feelings for him. If she got off on dominating him, would it be so wrong of him to let her? Would I get off on it again too?

James didn't have time to overanalyze the situation, because Lily eagerly sat on the shower's bench and spread her knees wide open for him, beckoning him forth with a single finger. His eyes trailed down her, every centimeter divine, before he crawled over, loving how completely unabashed she was at offering him her body. What she was giving was a gift, and like hell if James was going to turn it down.

"Why are you burning a hole into the back of Evans' head?" Sirius asked James later that morning in Transfiguration class.

James' temple slipped off of his palm, rather startled by Sirius' interruption of his daydream. He'd just been thinking about how Lily had screamed, her grip deep in his curls, trying to pull his face closer and closer to her cunt as one of her heels dug into his back — so it was an awful lot to shake. (Especially when his jaw was still as sore as it was. It turned out Evans needed quite a lot of oral stimulation to get there.) In what world was that whole ordeal allowed to happen and then he still had to do something as ridiculous as turn a desk into a garden shed two hours later?

He also couldn't stop thinking about why he'd caved to her. He'd just finished telling Evans how he was more of a relationship type of bloke, and she'd basically laughed in his face and shown him that she didn't care about what he thought. She cared more about what she could get out of him. (And he'd gone along with it.)

But then he also couldn't stop imagining the length of her legs, the gentle slope of her backside before it rounded into the perfect peach, the way the muscles around her spine worked as she arched, her shoulders' making a butterfly as her arms came up to run her fingers through her sopping wet hair. When he closed his eyes, he could still picture her turning around, and watching as a stream of water ran down her breasts, her stomach, her thighs… down all of her. Her body was perfect, and he'd gotten to bear witness to all its glory.

He'd never seen a girl fully naked before. Sure, he'd gotten glimpses, under shirts and under skirts, but he still felt like nothing could prepare a person for the magnificent sight of a woman's body all at once. It was like he had taken off his sunglasses and stared directly at the sun — so of course her image was permanently scarred into his retinas. Maybe him falling to his knees practically a minute after she'd undressed made sense. There was no way she wasn't fully aware of what the sight of her would reduce him to.

He also felt — or at least he was telling himself this — that if he would have had the strength to walk away from her in that moment, it would have hurt her feelings. Like she would never admit to it (Evans might be nearly as prideful and sometimes cocky as he was), but there was no way a rejection like that wouldn't sting. She wasn't made of ice. If James would have been able to leave the bathroom right after she'd completely stripped for him, there was no chance in hell that it wouldn't have crushed her. Lack of morality chip or not, she was still human. So maybe he'd still done the right thing by staying to admire her, right? He'd take a hit to his ego instead of to hers. Staying had been the gentlemanly thing to do, had it not?

James shook his head. His coping mechanisms were getting out of control.

He cleared his throat. "It's nothing. She just got me good last night." He hated lying to his friends. At least with this phrasing, it was still kinda true?

"What do you mean?"

"Well, she scared away Karen, so I need to plot some way to get back at her."

Sirius perked up. "Nice. How'd that go by the way?"

James turned to him, eyes wide. "How did what go?" Was he that obvious?

Sirius gave him a weird look. "Karen? Your study date? Did Evans scare her away at the start or end of it?"

"Oh, yeah. Pretty much the start. But it doesn't matter, it won't work out."

"Why not?"

James shrugged. "I just don't think we're that compatible, is all."

Sirius snorted as he opened his book, and James got the distinct impression that he was annoyed with him. "On to the next bird, I guess."

James decided to turn the tables to get some of the heat off of himself. "Well, what about you. Who are you pursuing these days?"

Sirius blew his hair out of his face. "Minnie."

James cracked up, and the teacher in question shot them a look. "Good luck with that," he whispered out of the corner of his lips.

Despite how hard Evans had pursued James in their bathroom, the closer it got to Halloween, the more she became a ghost. James hated to admit it, but the whiplash of it all was starting to drive him crazy. So… was she already done with him? Had she proven to herself that even someone who tried to be as honorable as Potter could still be brought to his knees by her (and very easily in fact)? Had she gotten her two orgasms and bounced?

Maybe he was terrible at oral. He'd never had any complaints, and she seemed like she'd come, but Sirius had told him all about girls faking these sorts of things. Maybe she'd just realized they were late for class and thought it was time to put him out of his misery. But she's not like that though… James reasoned with himself. Evans would probably get off more by teasing him about his inability to satisfy her. It was like she'd come despite herself.

James didn't know. (And it was driving him crazier.) He also knew that he couldn't ask her these sorts of things. She'd already established that they'd only been fooling around, so any question about all this from him would come off as so fucking desperate that he grimaced from the mere thought of it. Suddenly he felt like he couldn't even ask her about the Halloween feast they were supposed to be organizing together without it looking like he had ulterior motives to get her alone. He didn't want to seem like a one-track-minded freak.

He still saw her in classes though, surrounded by her usual posse of psychos. Bellatrix, Avery, Mulciber, Nott… how could she stand to be around such arseholes? Avery so clearly took every chance he could get to flirt with her too — it made him sick. They were completely bonkers, couldn't she see that?

She's one of them, a small voice in the back of James' head said. Remember that.

She looked paler than usual though. He knew her skin was normally already porcelain, but it seemed worse than that. Can you bring that up?

"Evans, about the feast next week—" he tried at the end of their prefects meeting the Monday exactly a week before Halloween. Most of the students were upset that Halloween fell on a weekday this year, but the Marauders knew it was a blessing in disguise. Monday Halloweens meant four days to party instead of only one.

"We just talked about it for an hour, Potter," Evans said dismissively, already halfway to the door.

"Yeah, but we still need to—"

"I'm busy," she said with an undeniable note of finality. James hated that Snape threw a shite-eating grin over his shoulder as he followed her out the door, clearly loving just how badly James had been shut down.

Arsehole.

"I can help you prepare for the feast, James," the overeager Hufflepuff prefect from his year told him, popping up by his side. "What do you still need to do?"

"It's fine, Levine," James sighed, looking around for Remus. "I'll manage on my own I guess, thanks though." He threw her a kind smile before joining Remus' walk back towards Gryffindor tower. He was feeling like it might be a good night to have some guy time.

Remus raised an eyebrow at him. "What was that?"

"What was what?" James asked, sticking a hand in his hair.

"You and Evans. Normally you're both down each other's throats, but tonight…" he readjusted his bag on his shoulder, "… it seemed more like you were walking on eggshells or something?"

Fucking perceptive friends. "I dunno, Moony, I feel like they're up to something."

"Who? The Slytherins?"

"Yeah!" James continued, "They're all sneaking around lately—" James didn't want to admit he'd been watching Evans on the map, but eight out of the ten times he'd looked, he'd found that she wasn't even inside the castle, "—and they're always whispering to each other, and they look like they're up to no good."

Remus chuckled. "Mate, it's like you just described us."

"Yeah, but no," James stumbled, "this is different. They're up to some bad shit. I just know it."

Remus shrugged as he gave the Fat Lady the password. "I mean, probably. But isn't that what they're always up to?"

James whined internally, realizing he couldn't insist that this time seemed different without bringing up the pallor of Evans' skin — something he definitely shouldn't be noticing.

Maybe he just had to come to terms with the fact that his best case scenario with Evans had already come to pass and she was leaving him alone. He just couldn't believe that it had all happened so fast. He felt dumb, but a huge part of him wished he had appreciated everything more while it was happening. Had he known that was the one night and morning he would get to snog Lily Evans, he would have taken his time a little more, kept his glasses on the entire time, or — I don't know — committed the fine lines of her body to his memory. But it was too late. And it seemed like he was never getting that chance back.

This is for the best, this is for the best, he chanted to himself for the following week when his mind drifted to her — her wit, her sass, her temper, her strength, her humor — for even a second. Luckily for him (but perhaps unluckily for his team), their first Quidditch match was fast approaching, and he got to expend all his excess energy in the most aggressive, and sometimes a tad angry, manor possible.

Halloween weekend came and went — and honestly? It kind of blew. James had no idea what kind of witch Evans was, but somehow she could still control his thoughts with her lack of presence.

He hadn't seen her at any of the parties — and James hated that he had kept an eye out for her. He absolutely loathed that he had an extra few drinks with his friends so that his useless brain could have a reprieve from obsessing about her and wondering what the hell she was doing.

Or who her next victim is.

Evans had been crystal clear that they were not together and had only been messing around. Rationally, he understood that concept — but it didn't make the pill any easier to swallow. He hated knowing that she might be out there, right now, seducing some other poor unsuspecting bloke just like she had him. He wasn't special; he was just another notch on Evans' bed post. Or I guess a half notch.

James had another drink to forget.

Halloween Night, 7th Year

"Evans?" James asked, walking into their common room after the Halloween feast. He'd maybe seen her all of ten minutes before she'd disappeared, so truthfully, he was rather surprised to find her here, on their couch in her nightgown. Peeves had even made more of an appearance tonight than her — still on his best behavior since their shared incident in the broom cupboard. Word on the street was that Evans had made a deal with the Bloody Baron to exact her revenge on the poltergeist. No one knew exactly what the Baron had done, but everyone could see that Peeves was now terrified as shit of the ghost.

James was even more surprised that she'd magicked the half red/half green couch over to his side of the room so that it was sitting directly in front of the roaring fireplace. The wind howled furiously outside, making the scene before him appear even more foreboding. "Why are you on my side?" Was it a childish question? Absolutely. Had her indifference to him the past few weeks cut him deeper than he'd care to admit? No comment.

Lily turned to the sound of his voice, her gorgeous emerald eyes shining with fresh tears. James took in the sight like a dagger to the heart. "Potter," she managed to get out wetly. "Can we just not do this tonight?"

James stood rooted to the spot staring at her. Why the fuck is she crying?

Next Chapter: Hurts Like Hell

Good things happen on Halloween only ;)