a little reckless around the edges
call it young, dumb love
the whole thing starts on thursday, during potions. they're brewing antidotes to moonseed poison, and something in the ingredients sets off lily's allergies. she's sneezing even until they're in the hall on the way to dinner.
in the common room, much later, mary finally says, "lil, i think you should go rest. seems like you caught something."
"ah, no. just allergies. something in potions earlier..." stuffed nose, itchy throat, the beginning of a headache. she has antihistamines in her trunk upstairs, so she should be fine. she just has to finish this essay. "although i am almost done, so i might actually go ahead soon."
mary looks for a moment like she's going to argue, but the point was to get her to rest. so she concedes and nods.
☾
they don't notice james watching from the fireplace.
sirius does, though. he fishes a forgotten receipt from his pocket, crumples it up, and throws it at him. "at least be subtle about it," he comments.
james glares at him. he returns to his homework for about two seconds tops before looking up to steal another glance. sirius rolls his eyes. "she's sick," james says defensively. "she must have caught something."
sirius turns to look at lily then. besides the occasional sneezing, and the pink-tipped nose, evident even from this distance and in the predominantly red-orange of the gryffindor common room — lily seems fine. "she said it's just allergies. from potions today."
"no, it's..." james frowns, quill hovering over fresh ink. "never mind."
"what do you think is it then?" sirius asks anyway.
james adjusts his specs, but his eyes stay trained on his rune translation draft. "not allergies," he says simply.
"how do you know?"
he shrugs. "i just do." he's smiling a bit at his parchment; stupidly, like he's thinking of an inside joke.
☾
on friday morning in herbology, two out of the four marauders are absent from class. peter sits with ravenclaw gilda cloverwood, and remus stations himself next to lily. lily's sneezing is significantly less, but her nose is still red, and she now also feels — well, nothing, because she has three essays to revise and a potion to brew and first years to tutor and the prefects' meeting to preside that evening. she has no time to be sick.
she stands too quickly after fetching the lovage seeds from under the table, and the ensuing vertigo makes her sway, drop the glass container, white-knuckled hand clutching the edge of the table tight.
remus is thankfully quick to catch the bowl. he eyes her warily, putting the thing down and steadying her. "you okay?"
"i'm okay!" she says, perhaps a little too high-pitched. "perfectly fine."
"sure?"
"yeah. just stood up too fast."
he doesn't press anymore, but he watches her closely and volunteers for most of the activities throughout class. after, he catches her on the way out of the greenhouses and hands her a small glass jar of something.
"what's this?" she asks, studying the unfamiliar orange packaging.
"something from james," he says. "he said you might need it. for — your head. and for aches and stuff."
she takes the lid off, a balm of some kind, and the smell of menthol and camphor provides immediate comfort. she tries not to visibly sigh in relief in front of him. "um, tell him thank you. but also that i'm okay. it's just allergies. where is he anyway?"
"oh, you know..." says remus vaguely, backing away. "see you later. feel better."
☾
by the end of charms — the last class of the week, thank god — lily has opened the tiny balm jar at least six times and has used it on her temples and the back of her neck at least twice. she wants nothing more than to be in bed, honestly, but she powers through, because it's the last weekday and she can do it. she can. she'll get plenty of rest on sunday. till then —
she decides to skip dinner, not wanting to cause an outbreak of whatever she's got, just in case. she stares miserably at the empty prefects' room, willing dinner in the great hall to be over so the meeting can start so that that can be over also, so then she can start on her revisions and the tutoring materials and —
wrists pressed on her lids, the pulsing in her head begging to be noticed, she reaches for the balm jar in her pocket again. (something from james, remus said.) just then, sirius enters the room, tie loose and gait sure. he's the only person lily knows who consistently manages to impress the aura of a rebel and a prince at the same time. a runaway royal.
"hi, evans," he greets, taking the front row seat in the office.
"hello," she returns. "where were you all day?"
"oh, you know," he answers, in that same frustratingly noncommittal way the four of them do. "would you want rice or mashed potatoes or chips?"
the question is so sudden and out of place that lily laughs. "what?"
"dinner," he clarifies, although barely. "beef stew, roast chicken, sweet and sour pork — "
"sirius, are you asking me what i want for dinner?"
"clearly."
"um." well — why not. they've done weirder things. "some soup and dinner rolls would be nice."
sirius makes a face, but otherwise doesn't judge out loud. the fact that he had to quell his comment though is thoroughly amusing to lily; if only she were feeling better, physically.
he takes a mirror — that mirror — out of his bag, calls, "worm?" and lily can't see, but peter acknowledges from wherever he is in the castle. "chicken noodle soup and dinner rolls," orders sirius.
"eh? not even the miso salmon? the grilled vegetables? the bao buns?"
sirius looks up at lily in question. she shakes her head. the thought of food is not very appealing at the moment.
"nope," sirius relays.
"oh, wow, how sick is she..." peter mutters, voice fading out as the connection cuts. sirius keeps the mirror on the desk.
"i'm not sick," lily tells him. "it's just allergies."
"tell that to james who's already arranged a private ward for you at st. mungo's." and then he laughs, seeing lily's expression — "i'm kidding, evans..."
☾
"where is everyone?" asks lily, yawning, checking her watch. she couldn't quite finish the dinner peter brought from the kitchens, but she was grateful for the bit she did manage to keep down. the carefully repacked leftovers sit on the desk with the rest of the weekly report templates for the prefects, and the two out of three essays she has now finished over the wait. "dinner should be over by now, shouldn't it?"
"oh," says sirius, eyes widening, looking up from the book he's reading. a battered paperback novel; muggle author, agatha christie. "fuck, i forgot — the meeting's canceled."
"what?" she actually forgets the thick fog in her head for a second. "what do you mean?"
"the prefects are not coming," he explains. "we canceled it."
"what do you mean youcanceled it," she demands. "you can't cancel it!"
"oh, well, i can't. head boy can."
"james — canceled it?"
"yeah. i mean — you're sick. so."
"not sick, it's just..." but right then lily's body seems to independently recognize the window for reprieve; limbs like jelly, eyes extra heavy, the office couch suddenly so perfect for a nap. there's still the tutoring materials to get through, and the final essay, and the moonseed antidote, but now it seems much, much more manageable, and she thinks she can finish everything on time over the weekend. "ugh, i hate to say this — because you shouldn't miss class and you shouldn't be bringing food outside the great hall and canceling my meetings and all — but thank you."
sirius smiles, smug. "you're welcome. but it's prongs, mostly."
"where is he? where's he been all day?"
"just — you know. around."
lily frowns at him, but decides it's best to let it go. heck if they ever answer the question properly anyway.
"do you wanna go up to the dorms?" asks sirius. "are you done with your essays?"
something occurs to lily then. "what are you doing here?"
"finishing a book?" he says innocently.
"no, like, why are you here with me?"
a moment where he seems to debate on something, and then, "honestly? ah — keeping watch."
"of — me?"
"yes."
"um. because — ? of my — allergies?"
" — yes."
they look at each other, both incredulous, but probably for different reasons. "sirius, did potter ask you to be here?" she asks, because it's the only thing that kind of makes sense.
"no one asks me to be anywhere, evans," he says, petulant. he goes back to his novel, sinks further down in his chair. eyes on the page, he says, "if he did, i could've easily just said no. he's not the boss of me."
"okay..."
silence.
"also," he's still staring at the same page, gaze notably not moving. "is it so hard to believe i might actually like hanging out with you, whether or not james asked."
he still sounds crabby, and it's the type of question that doesn't sound much like a question. lily grins and answers anyway: "no. not at all."
☾
she doesn't know at which point she fell asleep, but she wakes up to a dim and empty office, and a frontrow seat devoid of any agatha christie junkies. she sits up, but regrets it immediately, clutching her head and groaning. her "allergies" have escalated to a full-blown fever, the chills and the ache in her joints now too severe to be ignored or denied. her throat feels like a desert, too. all sand and thorns.
she swings her legs off the couch to go back up to the dorms for more medicine, and she whacks something in the way, something awfully like —
"ow — !"
"oh my god, sorry, lumos — "
"what the fuck — "
"james?"
it felt awfully like the back of someone's head, that's what. james — for that's who it is, of course — charms the candle lights in the office back on.
lily extinguishes her wandlight. she squints at the sudden brightness of the room, head throbbing so bad. "what are you doing here," she croaks. she slumps back down because staying upright is harder than she thought.
"what were you trying to do?" he asks, awake now. "oh — did you need anything? are you okay?"
"what — were you sleeping? why are you on the floor? what are you doing here?"
james blinks at her, and then has the audacity to laugh. "i'm sorry. i'm so sorry... you just — you sound so funny."
lily glares at him.
"like a frog," he's still saying. "like — a nasally popstar frog. who — chain-smokes."
she tries to roll her eyes but my god the spinning that that did for her head. "i'm going to kill you."
"yes, i feel very unsafe. super threatened." although he did seem to notice her struggle. he sobers up and hurries to her side. "do you want some water? lie back down, go on..."
"i think i need to go to madame fenrin," lily manages to get out.
"okay. we can do that. drink this first though."
somehow he's conjured up some water for her. she thanks him and drinks. "what's going on? why are you here — where've you been all day? what time is it?"
"slow down, champ," he says, chuckling, taking the empty glass back from her. he checks his watch. "it's 2:23. i finished the report consolidation, and i must have fallen asleep. i was going to wake you, but you looked..." he shifts his eyes, clears his throat. "um, you looked like you needed it."
"you finished the... you did all of them?" twenty-two quarterly reports. it usually takes lily two nights to consolidate. what.
"yeah, it's not a big deal." he's stood up to fetch his school robes, puts them on over his uniform. his tie's not even tied. his hair's a proper mess. "can you walk?" he cocks his head to the side, rubbing the back of his neck. "can you stand? be honest."
"potter, you didn't have to finish all of it — "
"oh, it's okay. i had the whole day."
"is that why you weren't around?"
"that, and your tutoring papers. i had to find someone else though. i hope jeanne is okay; your usual sub wasn't available."
lily's looking at him like he's juggling fireballs with his bare hands. "james — "
"lily, it's okay. stop — well, not shouting. stop croaking." he starts laughing again. "it's fine. padfoot and moony helped in the afternoon. even worm. although he did fall asleep ten minutes in and ended up doing just half a report and spilling coffee on two others. we had to redo those. but whatever."
she contemplates it, but she doesn't have the energy to fully process it right now. still, at the very least — she stands up, manages to, and walks over to him to give him a hug. his robes, left out in the room unworn for a while, feel like the cold side of the pillow against her feverish cheek. her eyes actually flutter close at how pleasant it feels. (james has gone very still.) "thank you," she says against his chest.
"you're welcome," he says, and it sounds close to the croak he was just laughing at moments ago. "can you walk all the way to the infirmary?"
"yeah, of course i can."
☾
she can't. it's okay though. james gives her a piggyback ride through the last stretch of hallways.
she feels very hot and very cold at the same time, her head still pounding, and her whole body heavy and uncomfortable. but also: hogwarts at 3 AM is beautiful, window-framed constellations and dim firelight dancing with their passing shadows on the walls. james smells nice, feels nice, like... something deeply green. the middle of the woods. a lake at dawn. muscat grapes in the rain.
it feels like a dream, and she hopes she doesn't forget.
she can tell he's trying to be careful not to bounce her around too much. "hey, thanks," she murmurs. "seriously. for the reports and this and... the balm. and dinner and stuff. all of it. thank you."
"you're so hot," he replies. "i mean — "
"i know," she interrupts, eyes closed, laugh weak. "would've done it for me too, i guess."
"i mean! it's like a dragon on my nape when you talk. your breath is so hot."
"even my breath is so hot," she echoes, entertained. "alright."
"shut up, evans."
☾
"did you know you snore?" he says, close to the hospital wing.
"i do not."
"oh. now you know."
"i meant i don't snore!"
he chuckles. "we were all there. all four of us. we can all attest to it."
"i do not, oh my god..."
☾
madame fenrin is not pleased to see them that late, and they both get an earful. besides that, the rest of the night is uneventful: lily is admitted, james goes back to the dorms. lily is okay by saturday evening — fenrin's potions a world-class marvel — and the rest of the weekend passes more or less the same way they usually do.
in the following weeks though are a few notable developments: sirius reads more in the prefects' office than in the library, and remus and lily have become permanent herbology partners. lily also steals more glances at james now, although, depending on who you ask, the matter's still very much up for debate.
☾
on friday weeks later, on the way to the pitch for a match with slytherin, sirius randomly remembers to ask: "how did you know that one time? with lily. how did you know that it wasn't just allergies?"
"oh." james readjusts the broom on his shoulder, flexes his free, gloved hand. averts his eyes. "just — you know."
"oh, don't use that on me."
james swallows. "her, um." it takes a couple of steps for him to get it out: "the sneeze was... different."
sirius stops in his tracks. james walks ahead two steps before he notices, so he has to turn back around. "what?" he asks, defensive, standing taller.
"are you serious?" asks sirius, which would've made peter laugh.
"well — yeah."
"oh, my god."
"what."
"oh my god, i can't — " he starts walking again, faster, bigger strides, keen to overtake james. "utterly unacceptable. i can't be around you right now."
"what!"
"you're embarrassing."
"shut up."
"so unbelievably embarrassing, prongs..."
"shut the fuck up..."
☾
they win the match that day, two hundred-eighty points to forty, chiefly due to james's leadership and exceptional chasing skills.
that, at least — sirius thinks, watching him get carried and bounced around by the rest of the team — redeems him a little.
we were lightning from the start
and it keeps me going; to know that
no matter what, you got me