Chapter Nine - All About Lily, Nomomom

Laughter. Genuine, unabashed laughter. It had flowed throughout the Hog's Head Inn, and it warmed Charlotte to think that some of that laughter came from her. When was the last time she had laughed so freely?

Sirius' laughter... Charlotte thought on it. His laughter erupted with a raw intensity, like a dam breaking after holding back for too long. It wasn't the light-hearted chuckle of someone untouched by hardship; this was joy forged in the fires of sorrow, a powerful, almost reckless release. Each sound carried the weight of unknown struggle, as if the joy now filling him was a counterbalance to all the darkness he had known. It came from deep within, wild and unrestrained, every burst of laughter a defiant answer to some pain he had survived.

James' laugh was infectious, the kind that spread like wildfire, igniting smiles and chuckles wherever it was heard. It was bright and unrestrained, not born out of his own amusement, but from the joy of those around him. The sound carried an easy warmth, as if his happiness was fueled by the laughter of others, making it impossible not to join in. His laughter felt like a gift, a celebration of shared joy, as though he found his greatest delight in the happiness he could reflect back to the world.

And as for Charlotte… Her laughter escaped before she could stop it, as if it had been lying dormant, waiting for the right moment to break free. It started as a soft, hesitant sound—one she almost didn't recognise—but quickly grew into something uncontrollable. The force of it knocked the breath from her, leaving her momentarily stunned, as though her body had forgotten how to hold joy. It was a laugh that seemed to take her by surprise, sweeping her off her feet with its intensity, like rediscovering something long lost. For a moment, she stood there, wide-eyed, amazed at the sound of her own happiness.

For hours, they seemed trapped in a bubble of joy. What Charlotte discovered was the joy James and Sirius fed off each other. They truly were a pair. There was a warmth that hadn't been there before. Something she couldn't name but felt comfortable and inviting.

But now, as the warmth faded, a question lingered in her mind—had it all been a dream?

By the throbbing in her head, the nausea in her stomach, and the sound reverberating in her ears, Charlotte guessed she'd drunk more than she had meant to last night. But it didn't make sense—she'd only had three shots, right? Oh, no. That's right. She'd taken Sirius' shots as well. And possibly even a butterbeer or two.

Her long blonde hair was a matted knot at the nape of her neck, and she knew without a doubt her face wouldn't be too pretty. Alcohol had a way of making her look like she'd tumbled out of bed into a battle with You-Know-Who. She groaned loudly, shielding her eyes from the obnoxious light flooding her dorm.

Except, she wasn't in her dorm.

The room smelled different—woodsy, with hints of something cleaner, mixed with the stale scent of smoke. She blinked hard, her eyes adjusting to the faint shapes around her. Gryffindor banners. Beds. Not hers. Definitely not hers.

Charlotte froze, dread settling like a weight in her stomach. Of course, she wasn't in her dorm. Things had spiraled last night, and the thought of Lily seeing her in this state was unbearable. Always so perfect, so put together. The one thing Charlotte couldn't afford was for her sister to witness how messy she could be. But now, waking up here, she wasn't sure if avoiding Lily was worth this new sense of humiliation.

Slowly, she turned her head. On the floor beside her bed, sprawled with his back against the foot of the bed, was Sirius. Shirtless. His chest was bare, rising and falling in a slow rhythm, a cocky smirk already plastered on his face.

"Morning, love."

Charlotte gasped, immediately pushing herself back into the pillows and yanking the blanket up to her chin, as if it could somehow shield her from the embarrassment. Her heart raced, her brain trying to piece together the night before. "Sirius!" she shrieked, gripping the blanket tighter. "What in Merlin's name—"

Sirius laughed, a deep rumble that made her face burn. "Relax, Evans, nothing improper happened. I just wanted to give you a proper scare."

"Why are you—why am I—why are we in the same room?" Charlotte stammered, her face flushing even more.

Before Sirius could answer, another voice came from across the room.

"Because you didn't want Lily seeing you drunk."

Charlotte whipped her head around just in time to see James, shirtless as well, emerging from the bathroom with a towel slung dangerously low around his waist. Water droplets slid down his chest, glistening under the morning light. He ran a hand through his damp, dark brown curls, ruffling them in that effortlessly messy way he always managed to pull off. His hair—always a little wild—curled perfectly, despite its untamed appearance, with no strand out of place. A few curls stubbornly fell in front of his glasses, framing his face in a way that drew her eyes, though she quickly looked away.

Oh no.

Her brain momentarily short-circuited. There he was—James Potter, half-naked, looking far too good for her peace of mind. The sight of him should've been laughable, but instead, it was… confusing. That gnawing feeling of being out of place in his world surfaced again. Here he was, so comfortable in his skin, while she felt like an outsider—someone who didn't belong in his orbit.

Her mouth hung open until Sirius snickered beside her.

James, oblivious to her staring, spoke again. "You passed out, so we brought you here."

Charlotte shook her head, trying to focus. "What? Why would you bring me here?"

Sirius grinned. "You said you didn't want Lily seeing you like this, and, well, we couldn't leave you to sleep in the common room. So, here we are."

James shot Sirius a glare. "I slept on the couch, by the way."

Charlotte froze, her eyes darting to the bed beneath her. James' bed. Her heart skipped a beat as the realization hit her like a ton of bricks. She had slept in James Potter's bed. Her stomach did a little flip, and she immediately felt a rush of heat crawl up her neck. Of all the places she could have ended up, why here? She quickly glanced at James, half expecting him to be smirking or teasing her, but he seemed indifferent—almost casual about the whole thing. Meanwhile, her mind was spiraling, and she gripped the blanket tighter.

"And I was the perfect gentleman," Sirius added, clearly enjoying himself far too much.

Charlotte groaned internally, the mention of Lily bringing everything crashing back down. Even in her lowest moments, her sister was always there, lingering like a shadow. No matter how far she ran, everything eventually led back to Lily. It was exhausting. Was there ever going to be a time when something—anything—was about her?

She groaned again, burying her face in her hands. "This can't be happening."

James stepped closer, now half dressed in his uniform, though his tie hung loose around his neck. "Are you alright? You don't look so good."

"Gee, thanks," Charlotte muttered, sitting up straighter and fixing her hair as best as she could. "This is not how I wanted to wake up."

"Well, it could've been worse," Sirius said, stretching his arms above his head. "You could've woken up in my bed."

Charlotte threw a pillow at him, which he dodged with ease.

There was a brief silence, then Charlotte couldn't help but ask, "Why did you help me?"

James hesitated for a moment before responding, "Because we're friends, right?"

Friends. The word hit Charlotte like a jolt of lightning, sharp and unexpected. Friends? Her mind raced, trying to process what he'd said. Friends. It was such a simple word, but hearing it from him—hearing him claim it so easily—left her breathless. Did he mean it? Or was it just something he said to smooth things over, like a formality? She wanted to believe him, but deep down, a flicker of doubt clawed at her. Friends. Were they really? Or was she just a convenient connection to Lily, someone who existed on the fringes of his world?

But then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "And... well, Lily wouldn't want you getting in trouble."

Of course. There it was. Charlotte's stomach twisted painfully, her brief hope collapsing in on itself. Lily. It was always Lily. Even now, when James claimed they were friends, it still tied back to her sister. Charlotte's stomach twisted with the weight of it. Did any of this matter, or was she just a convenient link to Lily?

"Right," Charlotte repeated flatly, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She avoided their eyes, feeling the heavy pit in her stomach grow. Of course it was about Lily. Everything always came back to her. With a quick, sharp breath, she grabbed her cloak from the chair beside James' bed, still rumpled from the night before.

"Thanks for, uh… not leaving me in a gutter, I guess," she muttered hastily, forcing a weak smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. The effort felt hollow, pointless. What was the point of pretending everything was fine when the truth was so clear? She'd never escape Lily's shadow. Not here, not ever. She began to pull her shoes on, feeling the sting of James' words twisting in her chest.

Sirius frowned slightly, watching her more carefully now, but before he could speak, she was already up on her feet, clutching her things and making for the door.

"Charlotte, wait—" James started, stepping forward.

But she was already gone, the door shutting with a dull thud behind her.

James stared at the closed door, his outstretched hand slowly dropping to his side. Something felt wrong. Why had she left so abruptly? And why did he feel like he had missed something important?

"Bloody hell…" Sirius groaned, running a hand through his hair. "That went well."

James blinked, turning back to face his friend. "What do you mean?"

Sirius gave him a look, shaking his head as he stood and stretched lazily, clearly not as rattled as James. "What do you think I mean? She ran out of here like we'd just set a Hungarian Horntail loose."

James stood there, puzzled. "I don't get it. We helped her, didn't we?"

Sirius snorted. "Yeah, and then you went and made it about Lily, didn't you?"

James narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

Sirius shot him a pointed look. "You told her we're friends, and then you made it sound like the only reason we helped was because of your darling Lily."

James felt his chest tighten, the weight of guilt hitting him squarely. He replayed the conversation in his mind—Sirius was right. He had done it again, hadn't he? Brought everything back to Lily.

Lily. Her name alone stirred something familiar in his chest. He could see her now—her long red hair catching the light, her green eyes flashing with determination. She was always so smart, always ready to fight him, to challenge him. And he loved that about her. There was something so magnetic, so powerful about the way she carried herself. He'd spent so long chasing after her, trying to prove himself worthy of her attention.

"Oi, Earth to James." Sirius' voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Ah, bloody hell…" James muttered under his breath, rubbing a hand across his face. He hadn't meant for it to sound like that. But of course that's how it had come out.

"She's not Lily's bloody extension, you know," Sirius continued, his voice less teasing now. "You might want to remember that next time."

James winced at Sirius's words. That was the last thing he had wanted Charlotte to think. She wasn't just Lily's sister to him. She was clever, sharp-tongued, and more interesting than most people he knew. But maybe he hadn't realized just how often he had tied her to Lily. It wasn't fair to her. She deserved more than that.

He sank onto the edge of his bed, running both hands through his hair, frustrated with himself.

"How am I supposed to fix that?" James asked quietly, his voice raw with frustration. He couldn't let Charlotte think that's all she was—some side note in his life because of Lily. She mattered. Their friendship mattered. He just hadn't figured out how to show her yet.

Sirius leaned back, folding his arms across his chest. "You could try, I don't know, actually treating her like a friend," Sirius said, though there was a glint in his eyes. "Instead of constantly thinking about Lily when she's around."

James clenched his jaw, anger bubbling beneath the surface. Was it true? Had he been so focused on Lily that he hadn't even seen Charlotte properly? He thought back to last night, the way Charlotte had laughed at his jokes, how easy it had been—until he had brought up Lily and watched her shut down completely.

"Great," James muttered, standing abruptly. "Now she probably thinks we don't even want to be her friend."

Sirius leaned back, a smirk still playing on his lips. "You're not wrong there."

James groaned inwardly. "I'll talk to her," he said, though he wasn't entirely sure how that conversation would go. Would Charlotte even listen? She was more stubborn than anyone he'd ever met. But he had to try. He couldn't let this slip away, not now.