Eight Letters by Clio

Rating: R
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Lily & James
Book: Lily & James, Books 1 - 7
Published: 27/07/2008
Last Updated: 28/07/2008
Status: Completed

Sirius isn’t the only one who enjoys crosswords.




1. Eight Letters
----------------



**Title:** Eight Letters

**Author:** Clio

**Rating:** Strong R/ NC-17 (?)

**Summary:** Sirius isn't the only one who enjoys crosswords.

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and the characters and places associated with same are the sole
property of J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement is intended. This story was written for my own
amusement, as I am currently entertaining a healthy obsession with the books, and, hopefully, the
amusement of others. Please do not sue me because I have no money, and what little money I do have
is spent on things like food and a place to live. If you feel compelled to sue, rest assured that
all you will get out of me is a computer with all the research, plot outlines and character
sketches for this story saved on it, a few boxes of Macaroni and Cheese (maybe some Captain Crunch
if you're lucky) and my sizable late fee at Blockbusters from renting British movies (the BBC
rocks!!). So let us review: No Potter me-owny, but big late fee me-havey. Don't sue!

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** This is a tidbit of a story I'm attempting to write—a bit of
silliness that wouldn't fit into an otherwise plot-driven story. I just couldn't figure out
a way to inject the plot into it, so it's a fluffy one-shot instead!

**.:*~* Eight Letters *~*:.**

The golden light of a March morning streamed through the lancet windows of the Gryffindor
Boy's dormitory, illuminating the dark flagstone floor, the scarlet bed hangings and the
occasional stray sock. Curled in the deep splay of the window sat Lily, clutching a pencil in one
hand and a folded copy of the *Daily Prophet* in the other and staring intently down at the
checkered boxes.

“Wenlock,” she said, “1277. Seven letters. Uses the `B' from `Bicorn' as its first
letter.”

James sighed and dug a knuckle into his eye, buying for time.

“Er… Brandy?—No, Bridget.” He laughed. “Hey, her names is seven letters.”

“So?” Lily replied, indifferently as she filled in the squares.

“Well she's the one that discovered the properties of the number seven, didn't she? And
in 1277.”

Lily looked up. “Why aren't you in N.E.W.T. level History of Magic? It would be such an easy
one for you to get.”

He scoffed. “And sit through Binns's lectures? I'd rather kill myself.”

Lily unfolded herself from the window sill and flopped onto the bed next to James, laying the
crossword on his chest. She propped her head on her hand and watched it gently rise and fall with
every breath James took. “I'll never understand you,” she said, running a finger down the list,
looking for another clue.

“You don't understand that I'd rather commit suicide than be bored to death by
Binns?”

She playfully bopped him on the forehead with the crossword.

“Male dear,” she said, laughing. “Four letters.”

“Stag,” he grinned up at the ceiling. “I'm game for a challenge.”

“Marked by pleasure. Five letters, the second letter is the `A' from `Stag.'”

“Oh, come on, Lily, that's too easy.”

“Fine.” She scanned the list, and read, “An intelligent cat-like—”

“Kneazle,” James replied before she finished. “A hard one, please.”

She shook her head, trying not to smile as James jutted out his lower lip and batted his
eyelashes at her pleadingly. Glancing over the list she found nothing that would present a suitable
challenge. Sighing, she set the pencil down and sat up, the mattress of his four-poster bed dipping
slightly. His hazel eyes shifted to her face.

“Stand at attention,” she said. “Euphemism. Eight letters.”

He was staring up at the ceiling again. “Stand at attention… hmm… And it's one word?”

Lily nodded.

“Form ranks? No, that's two… and it's nine letters, not eight…”

James's brow knit and he chewed his lip adorably as he strained to think of the answer.

“Euphemism. Does that mean `Stand at attention' is a euphemism for something else, or `Stand
at attention' is the euphemism?”

“You just said the same thing twice.”

James propped himself up on his elbow and picked up the folded *Prophet*, scanning the word
list. “What are you grinning about, anyway?” He examined the list for a good three minutes. “Lil,
`Stand at attention' isn't even on the list—”

Lily's grin widened as she pried the paper from his hands and swung a leg over his hips,
straddling his lap.

“Hey, wait!” he said as she tossed the newspaper aside. He began to reach for it but stopped.
“Oh…”

Lily smiled coyly as she unbuttoned his fly.

“You said you wanted a hard one,” she reminded him, innocently.

“I meant the crossword,” he said, dumbly. “But I think I like your way better.” He bit his lip
as she stroked him.

“I thought you might.” James's hands moved to the buttons of her shirt but he fumbled
terribly with them. “Need help?”

His darkened eyes flickered up to hers.

“This *is* rather difficult when you're, er, distracted.”

Lily gave him a squeeze and he groaned.

“Should I stop?”

His expression morphed from momentary ecstasy to tormented confusion; if Lily had learned
anything in their five months of coupledom it was that he, like every other male, only had enough
blood to operate one organ at a time. She extracted her hand from his trousers and sat back,
watching him finish off the buttons of her blouse.

His hands moved to her hips and he pulled her toward him, their mouths sliding over one
another's. He moaned into her mouth as she continued her ministrations.

“Do you have it yet?” she whispered into his ear, his gasping breaths tickling her shoulder.

“Wha-uh-ut?” he managed, barely.

His arms tightened around her as he gave a breathy moan, his body shuddering.

Lily kissed his chin as he collapsed against the pillows, panting. She smiled down at him.

“Eight letters. `Stand at attention.'”

James's drowsy eyes fluttered open and he smiled lazily up at her.

“Erection,” he laughed. “Very clever.”

Lily reclined next to him. “I do my best.” James tucked a lock of her auburn hair behind her
ear, then wrapped his arm around her. A moment later he had dozed off.

For a few moments she watched his chest rise and fall slowly. She slipped out of bed and
retrieved the forgotten crossword from across the room, setting it on the night table. She picked
up her book bag, kissed James on the forehead and turned to leave, but something caught her eye.
Reaching for the abandoned pencil, she shifted the crossword and scratched in the letters
H-A-P-P-Y.

.:*~* Clio *~*:.

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