Lily

The two Head Students achieved a level of respectful indifference in the first week of the term, Lily was surprised to find.

Potter had smartly said nothing about what had occurred on the train, and so Lily found it much easier to pretend it had never happened.

There'd been a moment when she thought he was going to say something, just after their first meeting with McGonagall, but he'd carefully steered the conversation away.

"Any questions?" McGonagall asked.

The two of them shook their heads in unison.

"You may use the small office next door to complete any of your work; the classroom beside it can be used to conduct the monthly Prefect Meetings. Miss Evans, you might still be familiar?"

Lily nodded, recalling the meetings that Frank and the Head Girl, Priscilla Sallow, held in the unused room.

"Here's a folder of the Prefects. I've included any of their known extra curricula that may impact patrol schedules; not accounting for any last minute changes, such as club registrations or Quidditch team members."

McGonagall handed it out over; Potter, who was closest to her, accepted the folder, tucking it under his arm. "I'm hopeful this won't impact your rigid practice schedule, Potter, but do what you must."

Potter grinned. "Of course, Professor. Already considered."

McGonagall inhaled, clapping her hands together. "I suppose that's all. Either of you two, please feel free to reach out if you need any guidance. I'll expect the monthly reports to be turned in promptly by the first of each month."

Again, Lily and Potter nodded their heads in unison.

"Off you go, then." McGonagall shooed them out the door, following closely behind them so that she could return to her rooms. The professor waved her wand, effectively locking the door and turning on her heel to leave the two students alone in the corridor.

Potter pointed. "This room? Where we can meet for Head Business?"

Lily nodded. "It should be unlocked."

It was. Potter twisted the door knob and pushed the door open, revealing a small storage space with two desks and a nearby cupboard. The window faced the west, the low set sun peeking through the clouds to fill the room with just enough light.

Potter dropped the folder onto one of the desks. "We don't have to finalize the patrol schedule now, do we?"

Lily shook her head. "We have a little time. I can take the first look to draft something up."

"You don't have to do that."

"It's fine," she said, meaning it. "Time tables are easy. Sorting out the detention slips - you can do that the first month."

He grinned. "Deal."

The room fell quiet. Lily had to look away from him to avoid feeling uncomfortable.

"We should probably -"

"I'm sorry about the -"

Lily winced as their words overlapped.

"Sorry, what were you going to say?" Potter prompted.

She knew what he was going to say before she spoke over him - but was more grateful he'd been wise enough to leave it.

"I think we're nearing curfew as it is," she said. "We should probably head to the tower."

Potter grinned again, the familiar smile pulling at his lips easily. "Wouldn't want to be the first to get detention for being out after hours, would we?"

Lily chuckled reluctantly, turning away from him to lead the way back out to the door. She could hear his footsteps behind her, keenly aware of his distance.

The two of them remained quiet on the trek back to the tower, where she could tell he'd purposely slowed his gait to maintain her pace, settling into a silence that felt easy, as if he were just enjoying the walk.

Lily wasn't sure what she felt about that.

She thought about the last time they'd seen each other, nearly a year and a half ago. Had he thought of the train attack since?

He's turned a new leaf, Marlene had said. The attack at the end of the year changed a lot of people.

Lily watched him out of the corner of her eye; studied his unbothered expression, the slope of his relaxed shoulders as he rested his hands in his trousers' pockets.

"Grata Domum," he spoke to the Fat Lady's portrait as they approached, his tone clear and direct.

The older woman in the portrait fanned herself, smiling coyly at the Head Boy. "Welcome back, Mr. Potter. Ready for your 7th Year?"

"Of course," Potter said smoothly, holding the doorway open for Lily to step through. "Hope you haven't missed us much."

The Fat Lady snorted coquettishly, the sound cut off as Potter stepped in after Lily and let the portrait shut.

The room was bustling, despite the late hour. Lily spotted her friends near the fire, having been lucky enough to steal the spot first.

"See you later, Evans," Potter murmured as she moved to leave his side.

Unsure on whether or not to respond, she merely nodded in return.

"Alright?" Marlene asked quietly, wrapping an arm around Lily after she'd collapsed onto the sofa beside her.

"Alright," Lily confirmed.

If anything, she'd make sure she meant it eventually.

It was alright, she decided on, during that first week of the term, where their careful partnership was steeped in that respectful indifference.

It was perhaps … more than alright.

She'd completed most of the Patrol Schedules and he'd been able to review and fix any slots she couldn't figure out. He often deferred Head-related decisions to her, citing that he was still learning the ropes; and she couldn't tell if he was trying to slack on the job or if he was truly trusting her with the decisions.

The manner in which he continued to yield to her, though - that felt honest.

And it was odd to see, if she were honest with herself.

Odd to see James Potter, who often led the room with unapologetic ease, deferring any questions or placing any choices in her hands, looking at her with what looked like - what, admiration? Trust?

After not being in the Wizarding World for over a year, having missed an entire term, he'd yet to question her or her abilities.

It would knot her stomach sometimes; the way his eyes would seek her out, locking onto her with benign expectation - not in the way he'd assume she'd take the lead, but in the way he'd seemed to trust her implicitly - already - and knew she'd know how to handle the situation, whatever it may have been.

A 3rd Year had been locked in a toilet stall by Peeves, hands magi-glued to the basin of the toilet. A 6th Year Hufflepuff had been broken up by his girlfriend and was nearly inconsolable. Two 1st Years were already worried about flunking out, though having any grades submitted yet was nearly impossible.

In between these instances of peculiar madness, there were instances of calm, easy camaraderie between the two of them; quiet times in their shared office, or shared looks when another knock sounded at the door, amused when it was a 1st or 2nd Year asking for help on homework.

In those moments, she'd watch him out of the corner of her eye, almost mesmerized by his interactions with the younger students. Kind, patient - with a hint of mischievous meant to put the younger ones at ease.

It worked. It always worked.

And so yes. Lily had thought she and Potter had settled into an easy understanding. That more and more, she was realizing things were perhaps more than alright.

Even if her body was sending her signals that she certainly had no understanding of it capable of.

That is, she did.

Lily was familiar with the sudden heavy thump in her heart when Potter gave her one of those easy grins after a student left, pleased with himself by how excited the kid would be.

She was also familiar with the faint swoop in her lower stomach at key moments.

She was familiar because she'd experienced it in the last year with the blokes she had become mates with in Cokesworth, who'd hang out by the cinema after she'd left from her part time shift at the local bookstore. Familiar because she'd feel it from the look that John would give her just before they snogged after a show, a sensation that quickly wore off and lost its shine when he'd gotten more pushy - both physically and emotionally when he'd ask her more questions about schooling.

But here, she felt that sensation when she'd catch sight of him rolling his sleeves up, loosening the buttons at his collar. When he'd come in late for their alternating night check-ins, hair windswept - and face still slightly sweaty - from Quidditch practice

Jesus, she even traced the line of his slightly damp collar with her depraved eyes, where it'd stick to this collar bone and reveal sun-tanned skin to her perverted gaze.

Luck had continued to be on her side however; Potter appeared to either be unaware of her stares - or perhaps was purposely ignoring her lengthy gawking.

She'd forcibly and intentionally locked away any thoughts or feelings related to that and instead focused on her school work and duties.

By the end of their second week as co-Heads, Lily found herself pleased with how apparently simple it all had seemed to be - and complicatedly upset with her body. She could ignore her debased urges, surely .

And so their tentative partnership had eased its way into a comfortable rhythm well enough, she supposed. That, she could deal with.

Until Snape.


James

The way in which she took to her Head Duties was impressive; James had almost forgotten how kind she was - which was laughable to have almost done so. How understanding she could be, even when he wanted to roll his eyes at the complaints they continued to receive.

While it may have taken him a few tries to become open to the constant summons and calls for help from the younger students, he'd found himself almost having fun with it. While Evans often knew what to do to solve the situation, it didn't take him much to ease the minds of the student through the woes of their affairs.

He wouldn't say it aloud to her face, for fear of it somehow jinxing it, but James found their partnership incredibly… successful.

Which was easy, honestly. He allowed her to take the lead on many of their tasks, because she just seemed to know - and it was easy for him to concede major decisions to her. Perhaps once that dynamic within their relationship was unspokenly determined, they were able to … relax.

He wisely hadn't brought up their fight from the train - nor her distressing reaction when the wheels upset the carriage, for it was obvious it was not something she wished to talk about. But he'd stored it away in the back of his brain; a small scratch that filled him with distinct distress when it fought its way to the surface whenever he caught a frown on her face.

Soon, he was able to ask her questions about her year at home - surprised that she didn't take his questions or probing to be pestering - if anything, she seemed open to the conversation, her willingness to answer his questions easing the fear he'd held inside his chest, the fear that she still truly hated him after their row 5th Year.

"Your mum did not," he had guffawed, taking off his glasses and swiping them against the collar of his shirt. "What happened after that?"

Lily's eyes were glimmering with mirth, bright and vivid in the low-light room.

He'd been late after the term's First Quidditch Practice - and she'd been surprisingly understanding. They'd agreed to meet to check on the detention forms that had already been submitted - and the paperwork necessary to ensure that any point-taking wasn't being abused.

They'd just looked at the sheet Towler, a new 5th Year Prefect from Ravenclaw, submitted for taking twenty points from a younger student practicing Potions in the Ravenclaw tower. Towler had been very thorough in his report; the 2nd Year had been trying to replicate a Swelling Potion so that he could enlarge a Chocolate Frog Trading Card for his room. The cauldron had spilt over in the dorm, and at least three of the other dorm mates stepped in the overturned potion and resulted in three pairs of inflated feet that led to an overnight visit in the Hospital Wing.

It reminded Lily of the time she'd brewed a Nourishing potion; a concoction that Slughorn advised would be instrumental in her Healer Entry Exams (J ames saved this detail away for questioning later; Lily, a healer.) and her mum had mistaken it for old stew, tossing it out into their backyard garden.

The peonies and carrots planted there grew ten times their size, drawing the neighbors' attention quite fast - but luckily, McGonagall had arrived shortly after for her Transfiguration touchpoint and had been able to banish the peonies.

Lily and her mum had been able to convince McGonagall to let them keep the carrots; of which they'd managed to cut up and store in their free-zer , using the vegetable for a variety of dishes.

"I honestly don't think I could eat any more Carrot Stew though," Lily said with a laugh. "Between that, Carrot Shepherd's Pie, Carrot Bake, and Carrot cake, I've had enough to last a lifetime."

James chuckled, replacing his glasses onto his face and pushing his damp hair away from his forehead, enjoying the amused expression on her face now that he could see properly. "Makes me think of the time we'd dared Sirius to eat only onion for a fortnight."

"Oh, my God ," Lily gasped, immediately throwing her head back to laugh. "I remember that! 2nd Year, right? He got so sick in Potions when we had to use them to brew the cure for boils."

"I don't think he's touched them since."

She chuckled, folding the Points form and placing it onto the pile beside her. She glanced up at him from across the desks, her lips still pulled into a smirk; revealing the faint dimple at the corner of her cheek. "Suppose that's my fate with carrots. Not that I'm too tormented. Was that the last of them?"

James surveyed his side of the desk and nodded. "Last form. Shall we call it quits?"

"Quits," Lily confirmed, already standing to slide the forms into her desk drawer. The movement upset the collar of her blouse as she bent over to shuffle the parchment into the top drawer, revealing a pale collar bone and a white strap.

James had to drag his eyes away when he heard her repeat his name. "Sorry?"

She rolled her eyes - not truly annoyed - as she retrieved her school robe and bag from the back of her chair. "I was asking how practice went - but seems like perhaps you might've been hit by a bludger. Was that why you were late?"

It was easy enough to play it off, glad that she hadn't caught onto his leering.

He stood, chuckling as he mussed up his hair. "Not quite; I figured the team would appreciate some easy flying drills before we bring out the equipment this first week."

"How kind," she said in the slight taunting tone she'd begun to use with him, shouldering her bag and reaching up to pull out her trapped hair beneath the strap. "At least that means Marlene won't be in a poor mood. October 2nd, right?"

He wanted to fix the last few strands that remained beneath the leather band at her shoulder. "The 2nd?"

"Gryffindor's first match. It's the 2nd, right?"

The amount of pure pleasure that ran through him in response to the fact that she knew this nearly uprooted him. "Yeah," he said, clearing his throat. "We've got three weeks."

"Plenty of time to whip them into shape then," she said in the tone . She led the way towards the door, unsheathing her wand from her waistband to extinguish the lamps in the room.

He'd split ways from her in order to head to the kitchens, excusing himself from her presence for the sake of food.

Really though, it was for his own safety . He couldn't bear their banter longer than half an hour. Something would tighten at his chest and he'd find himself only wanting more .

There'd be other times they'd talk that he'd thought would put them right at the beginning, ruining all of the progress their tentative friendship had taken. Like maybe all the growing up he'd done was all for naught.

"What in Merlin's name is a 'Pen Pal Program' ?" he asked after reading the parchment in front of him. It'd been submitted to their Head Student proposal inbox, a new endeavor Lily had suggested.

It'd been a neat idea - the suggested notion receiving a few smiles and appreciative nods from the Prefects at the goal of it. James had been the one to transfigure the box, attaching it to the wall just outside of their small office. He'd also been the first one to unseal it the first time, dumping the pieces of parchment onto the desktop as they sat beside each other to go through the parchments.

The first dozen had contained silly, immature notes that were obviously from some of the younger students (Hell, James would've done the same, if he were honest. One he highly suspected was from Sirius - the letter F too familiar not to be his). The second dozen were much fouler; James had to hide his disgusted expression as he quickly scanned them, jaw clenching at the notes that alluded to the removal of non-Pureblood students.

He saw Lily fold them into a neat pile, tucking them into a folder with a closed expression.

James decided then he'd volunteer to manage the box from then on.

At the present time, she was smiling - patiently - at him. "You use a pen to write a letter to someone. From someone in another country at another school."

"That seems like a waste," he said bluntly. Maybe too blunt. Perhaps he couldn't shake off the ire from the set of foul repugnant notes he'd set aside to toss into the fire.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Did you even take a moment to consider?"

"Writing to a stranger who lives across the world? Don't they tell us not to chat with dodgy characters?"

"It's to learn from them. About them. Their culture or home life."

"Don't we have History of Magic for that?"

"Jesus," she huffed to herself with a smile, rubbing at her eyebrow. "It's a program that a lot of muggle schools do. It's just a fun chance to send a letter to someone anonymously, almost. I think we should ask Dumbledore or McGonagall."

"Who'd even sign up to receive letters from students?"

"Students from other schools," Lily answered with what sounded like forced patience. "Like Ilvermony or Durmstrang."

James scoffed. "Durmstrang? Why'd anyone want to talk to that dark lot?"

She looked surprised by his annoyance. "What's wrong with them?"

"You don't know?"

"Should I?"

His own surprise was hard to conceal; he could feel his brows rise. "They only let Purebloods in. A lot of them turn to the Dark Arts. A lot of them followed in Grindelwald's steps. Or, you know, fancy themselves to think they do."

"They do?" Lily asked, softly with furrowed brows. "But... Nerida Vulchanova founded the school. She helped create some of the most potent remedial potions. Vasil Stena is a part of Norway's Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes; he helped initiate the Clause 76 of the Muggle Liaisons Statue."

James shrugged helplessly, wincing as her gaze dropped to the desktop in front of her, eyes unseeing as she processed this new knowledge.

He opened his mouth several times to say something - something he hoped to be reassuring - but his mind came up with nothing.

She spoke finally, after a few more long moments of silence, raising her eyes to meet his hesitantly as she summoned a weak smile. "I suppose we'll stick to Ilvermony, then."

His own feeble smile matched hers; but his heart inexplicably ached at her disappointed expression.

The sound of the clock on their shared desk chimed, signalling the dinner hour.

Lily didn't stand as James did. "Are you heading to dinner?"

"I might stay for a little longer; I've got to sign off on the rest of these point forms."

He nodded understandingly, debating with himself to offer to stay longer with her - but the closed expression on her face simply indicated the need to be alone. "Meet you for Patrols later?"

"In the Entrance Hall," she confirmed, glancing up at him for a fleeting moment of acknowledgment before letting her eyes fall back onto the parchment in front of her.