"Fuck!" Lily Evans swore as she stumbled to the ground, hot tea spilling over the front of her blouse. She stood up quickly and examined the soaked fabric, sighing as she turned dejectedly to return to her car, where she kept a stash of extra clothes. Of all the days for this to happen, of course it would be today.
Today was a big day; Fridays were always busy for the reporters at Starcrossed Magazine, a popular tabloid. Lily had worked there for the last two years, putting in her time at the trashy magazine in order to gain the experience she needed to pursue a job with a reputable newspaper.
Lily reached her car and snatched a green shirt out of the backseat. It wasn't as professional as the black one she had on now, but she couldn't show up to the interview with tea spilled down her front. Laying down awkwardly so her naked torso wasn't visible to passersby, Lily tore off the wet top and tugged on the green one, the silky material settling over her pale skin. She looked down critically at the neckline; it was a bit low. Lily bit her lip and picked up a cardigan which she threw over her shoulders. The June day was entirely too warm to warrant a cardigan, but she didn't want the actor she was interviewing in fifteen minutes to think she was some sort of unprofessional floozy.
If there was a day she didn't want somebody to think she was a floozy, it was today, Lily reflected as she exited her car for the second time, consciously leaving her tea in the cup holder. For the first time in her short career, Lily could honestly say she was excited about her assignment. She was about to interview James Potter, one of her favorite actors, who also happened to be young and incredibly fit. Not that she would allow that to interfere with her job. No, Lily was nothing if not professional.
Checking her phone to ensure she was just the right sort of early, (early enough to show she was enthusiastic and serious about the interview, but not so early to appear desperate or overeager) Lily's eyes roved over the small cafe that James Potter had selected as a meeting spot.
The actor's trademark shock of unruly black hair caught her eye almost immediately. He was lounging at a table in the corner of the cafe, his eyes glued to his own phone. He wasn't wearing a tailored and press tux as he had been in nearly every photo she had seen of him, nor was he staring intently at a female across from him as he had been in nearly every movie she had seen him in. He sat easily, leaning back against his chair. He wore a pair of dark jeans and a close-fitting black t-shirt. Lily was surprised to see he wore wire-rimmed glasses instead of the usual thick-framed ones she had seen him wear on red carpets.
Taking a deep breath and unconsciously smoothing down her hair, Lily approached the table.
"Hello, Mr. Potter," she said in her best professional-journalist voice, struggling to keep her eyes from drinking in the whole of his figure. Oh God, he was even better looking in person.
James Potter's eyes snapped up from his phone and crinkled as his face split into a crooked grin. Unlike Lily, he made no effort to hide it as his eyes roved over her figure. His smile grew wider and he looked up at her, his eyes sparkling.
Lily's breath hitched a little when her eyes met his. They weren't the brown she had always assumed, but a sparkling, dazzling hazel. Almost gold, with flecks of green and blue swimming around the irises.
"You must be Evans," he said, smirking at her.
"Er, yes," Lily said hurriedly, tearing her eyes away and reaching a hand out. "Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter."
"Call me James," he said silkily, taking her hand and shaking it.
"Right," Lily muttered, half to herself. "Right, James. You can call me Lily then, I suppose."
"Nah," he said, leaning back in his seat and gesturing at the chair across from him. "I like Evans. Has a certain ring to it."
"Right," Lily repeated, sinking into her chair and pulling out a steno pad and pen. Shall we get started then?"
"If you want," James said lazily, a hand going up to ruffle his hair. "Ask away."
Lily polished off her third cup of tea and ground her teeth before sitting back in her chair. The steno pad in front of her was filled with scrawly writing, indicative of the two hours she had passed in the cafe with James Potter.
The actor had gone to the bathroom and Lily had the overwhelming urge to say 'sod it' and grab her bag, leave a bit of money and hightail it out of there before he came back.
The interview was not going well. Actually, that depended on who you asked. Potter seemed to be having a grand time, but Lily was not. In fact, she was having a terrible time, mostly because contrary to popular belief, it turned out James Potter was a giant prat.
"Sorry that took so long, love." The smarmy voice preceded the man, its smoothness grating on Lily's nerves. Potter resumed his seat and ruffled his hair again, a gesture she was quickly beginning to despise. He looked out through his wire-rimmed glasses and smirked at her. "So, where did we leave off?"
"You were talking about the time you spent with the princess of Norway," Lily said sullenly, taking her steno pad and turning to the next page violently. She wanted to cut the interview short. The whole thing had been nothing but Potter talk about how he was the most sought after actor in Britain, how he had been voted Most Beautiful Man two years in a row, how girls often literally fell at his feet, how even royalty loved him.
A waiter brought her another cup of tea and Lily thanked him, ignoring Potter's raised eyebrows.
"That's your fourth cup," he said. "That can't be healthy."
"Never you mind about my health," Lily grumbled, taking a sip.
"Alright, well, as I was saying, the princess of Norway is a lovely person really. Just a sweetheart. And she absolutely adores me. After we met the first time I had thought about calling her once or twice, but always decided not to. I never really had time, you see." He paused in order to smirk at Lily. "You know I am very busy."
"I'm sure," Lily muttered, holding her fourth cup of tea in her left hand and scribbling furiously with her right.
"Here, let me–" James said, reaching out to hold the teacup for her. Lily jerked her hand away, sloshing tea down her side and cursing loudly.
"Oh, bloody hell!" she cried, snatching a fistful of napkins off the table and hurriedly dabbing at her cardigan. "I already changed once today."
"Trying to look good for me, Evans?" Potter asked, grinning crookedly.
Lily glared at him. "Shut it," she growled. "I spilled tea on myself earlier. And now my bloody cardigan's going to stain." With no other options, she peeled the damp, stained sweater off, so she was wearing only the silky, sleeveless green top she had selected earlier. Potter's eyes widened noticeably as he stared at her. They roved over her pale shoulders and dropped unabashedly to her chest, which was more exposed than she liked.
"Anyways," Lily snapped, crossing her arms to hide the view of her chest. Potter looked up at her, a slightly guilty expression clouding his face, like a child who had been caught stealing sweets from the kitchen. He took a moment to regain his composure, sweeping a hand through his hair, which was a jumbled mess of black.
"Right, well what else do you want to know about?" he asked.
"Tell me about the work you did in South Africa last month," Lily said, twirling her pen. This was what she wanted to talk to him about, his thoughts on the real world, not bloody Norwegian princesses.
"Oh, that," Potter said with a look of pointed disinterest. He shrugged. "Not much to it, really. Went down there for a few weeks, helped build a school in a village, played with the kids. They were really sweet. Talked to the locals and made a donation. Although," he shot her a wicked smile, "I did meet a very nice local girl who just fawned over me. She was great, all the things a bloke looks for. Looks, charm, personality–"
Lily had had enough. She made a pathetic attempt to glance at her watch and feign surprise before cutting Potter off mid-sentence, "Oh, I hadn't realized the time, I've got to be getting back to the office!"
"But–" Potter protested, sitting up straight, his eyes meandering back to the neckline of her blouse. "I thought we had the whole three hours–"
"Must have been a mistake," Lily said airily. She had had enough of this berk and wouldn't sit through one more minute of his talking about how much women loved him, professionalism be damned.
"Well can I at least–"
"Here's for all the tea I drank," she said abruptly, pulling out a wad of bills and throwing them on the table. "We'll call if we need anything else."
She slung her bag over her shoulder and hurried out of the cafe, torn between embarrassment that a bloody actor had managed to get her to break her professionalism, and relief to be out of the cafe.
"While gracious on the red carpet and charming on the big screen, in person James Potter is nothing but an arrogant toerag," Sirius Black chortled as he read through the article in the tabloid. He swept a lock of dark hair off his face and turned a page. Across the table, James' head was in his hands as he stared at the plastic tabletop.
"I can't believe she wrote that," he moaned, running a hand through his hair.
"Did Remus have a fit when he saw it?" Sirius asked, his mouth still curled in a smile.
James nodded. "He called me at six this morning to tell me he's booked six charity events this week in order to get some good publicity. And he said he's calling that magazine to try and get them to run a different story in the next issue that makes me seem less—"
"Like an arrogant toerag?" Sirius supplied, folding up the magazine and tossing it on the table.
"I don't know what came over me," James groaned, closing his eyes in frustration. "The reporter—this bird named Lily—you should've seen her. She was flawless. Red hair, these really spectacular green eyes, good body. She was so smart too, and vivacious, funny. She had on this green top that was fairly low cut and—"
"So you told her about how much the Scandinavian princess loves you?" Sirius snorted, shaking his head. "Smooth, James. Real smooth. Have I taught you nothing? You never lead off with the jealousy—"
"I know," James snapped, glaring at his best friend. "I don't know what happened, I just—"
"Turned into a prick to try and impress a reporter?" Sirius smirked.
James sighed. "I didn't realize she thought I was that bad."
"James it says here you referred to yourself as 'the one true sex symbol in the entertainment business," Sirius chuckled, his grey eyes lighting up as James put his head back in his hands.
"Now she's never going to want to bloody talk to me again."
"Er, mate?" Sirius asked, furrowing his brow and putting a hand on James' shoulder. "No offense, but was there really a chance she was going to talk to you again anyways? I mean, you don't even have the girl's number. And she's a reporter; she probably doesn't really run in the same circles as we do."
"Well I would like to at least have the hope that if I ever ran into her again she would speak to me," James bit out, his ears turning a bit pink. "Or at least know that she doesn't think I'm a—what was it?"
"An arrogant toerag," Sirius said, laughing as he stood up to fetch a cup of tea. James glared at him.
"It's not funny!" he cried, adjusting his glasses. "This girl was the bloody girl of my dreams, Sirius! And she actually wanted to talk to me, not just giggle and flirt like most of the reporters from those bloody tabloids do."
"You don't seem to mind the giggling and flirting," Sirius pointed out, raising an eyebrow as he chose a mug. "I've run into a few too many of those reporters in the wee hours of the morning."
"That's not the point," James huffed, his neck now turning red to match his ears. "The point is this girl was different and now even if I do see her somewhere she'll never talk to me and—" he broke off as his cell phone began to ring. James pulled the phone out of his pocket. It was Remus, probably calling to yell at him again.
"If it's Remus you better answer," Sirius called. "You know how he gets when you fuck up."
"You say that like it happens a lot," James said defensively.
Sirius snorted but said nothing.
Bracing himself, James hit the button on the phone screen and lifted the device to his ear. "Hey, Remus," he said tentatively, waiting for the explosion.
"Hi," Remus said brusquely, sounding frazzled. "I've been doing damage control all morning and Pete called over to that magazine and arranged for them to do a follow up interview to try and counteract the negative attention that this last story created."
James' heart soared. How had he ever gotten so lucky? She was going to give him another chance; he could redeem himself.
"I scheduled it for tomorrow afternoon. I figured the sooner the better," Remus continued. James could almost hear the stress in his voice. "It will be a different reporter, of course—"
"Hold on, what?" James interrupted, his spirits crashing back down. He shook his head. "No, no, I want the same reporter. That Lily girl."
"James—" Remus began in a tired voice, sounding very much like a frustrated parent. "You know that's a bad idea. I mean really, after reading what she wrote, do you really want to give her the opportunity—"
"Yes!" James insisted, jumping up in his excitement. Across the kitchen, Sirius raised an eyebrow and sipped his tea. "Remus, I want it to be her. Or I'm not doing the follow up."
"James, be reasonable," Remus snapped. "You have to do the follow up."
"No," James said firmly, feeling slightly guilty for making his publicist's life so difficult. But then again, he reasoned, Remus hadn't met Lily; he couldn't possibly understand.
There was a moment of silence and then Remus sighed heavily. "I'll see what I can do," he said before hanging up.
James grinned and set the phone down on the table. It rang again less than five minutes later. James dove for it and answered on the second ring, slightly breathless.
"What'd they say?" he demanded eagerly.
"She said no," Remus said. "She won't do a follow up interview with you."
"What do you mean she said no?" James asked, furrowing his brow. "I'm James bloody Potter why wouldn't she want to do a follow up interview with me?"
"Do you really want me to answer that?" Remus countered. James could almost hear his friend's raised eyebrow.
"No," he pouted. "So what, are we just not doing one?"
"The magazine wants to assign a different reporter since Ms. Evans said no," Remus said. "I told them you insisted it be her and they said they could try and find one who does similar work—"
"That's not what I want," James said, grinding his teeth.
"I know," Remus said. "But you still need to do something about this. So, since the interview won't happen my suggestion—"
"Hold on a second," James interrupted, a stroke of brilliance hitting him. "Remus, can you get the girl—Evans—her phone number?"
"Er—" Remus stalled. "James, you know that's not really entirely appropriate—"
"Screw being appropriate," James said enthusiastically, his voice rising as the idea formed more fully in his head. "Can you get it?"
"I can try calling back to the magazine but honestly, James, I don't think—"
"Excellent, I'll let you go so you can call back. Her first name is Lily, remember. Lily Evans. Tell them I want her phone number for, er, questions about her article, yes that's it. Tell them it's for that."
"James—" Remus called out.
James thumbed the button and hung up, smiling triumphantly around the kitchen. He met Sirius' eye and his grin grew wider.
"Resorting to stalking now, are we?" Sirius asked, putting the teacup in the sink on top of an already abominable pile of dirty dishes.
"Shut it," James grumbled, the smile still not leaving his face. "It's not stalking. It's—for professional purposes."
Sirius snorted. "Right," he muttered. "Professional. Like how you want to professionally get into her knickers—"
"Oy!" James yelped, scowling. "That's not what I'm trying to—"
He broke off as the phone rang once again.
"Back to your stalking," Sirius grinned as he turned away.
"It's not stalking!" James said furiously as he hit answer.
"I have the number," Remus said by way of greeting.
"Excellent," James replied, hurriedly glancing around and snatching a napkin and marker sitting on the counter. Remus read off the number and James wrote it down, triple checking that it was correct.
"And you're sure this is hers?" he asked nervously. "Absolutely positive?"
"It's the one the magazine has down for her," Remus said.
"Okay well, thanks, Remus," James murmured, twisting the napkin in his hand. "Let me know what you book for me this week alright?"
"Will do." With a quiet beep, Remus hung up and James stood in the kitchen staring at the number written in orange marker.
Carefully, he punched the digits into his phone and waited breathlessly as he hit dial and heard the rings.
For a moment he thought she wasn't going to answer. Her phone rang six times and James was just starting to debate whether he should leave a message or simply try again later when her voice sang out through the speaker.
"Hello?"
He froze. For a moment he did nothing but stare at his cell phone in bewilderment, as though unsure of where her voice was coming from.
"Hello," Lily's voice said again, this time a bit annoyed.
James shook his head and tentatively raised the phone to his ear. "Erm, hi, Evans?" he said nervously.
She inhaled sharply and didn't say anything and for a terrible second, James thought she was going to hang up.
"Potter?" she demanded. "Is that you? Why are you calling me? Is this some kind of joke?"
"Er, no, no it's not a joke," James said quickly, wanting to keep her from hanging up. "Er, well, I know Remus called asking if you would do a follow up interview—"
"I spoke with Mr. Lupin ten minutes ago and told him I wasn't interested in doing a second interview with you," Lily said haughtily. James almost laughed. The nerve she had, turning down a second interview with him.
"Well, I'd like you to reconsider that decision," he said smoothly, with a resurgence of confidence following her stubbornness.
"Why would I do that?" Lily asked.
"Because I've never asked to do an interview with a specific reporter before," James said. "Hell, I've never asked to do a follow up interview."
"Is that supposed to impress me?" Lily challenged.
James smiled to himself. "No, but it should tell you how special I think you are," he said coyly.
Lily didn't say anything for a moment. When she did, her voice had lost some of its hardness, though maintaining the sarcasm. "You think you're really cute don't you, Potter?"
"I think you think I'm cute," James blurted out, cringing a second after he said the words. Oh god, she was definitely going to hang up now. He had blown it.
"I don't—you—you're infuriating!" Lily sputtered into the phone. "Believe it or not, Potter, not every girl in the world wants to shag you."
"Just do one more interview, Evans," James said, pouncing on a moment of silence as she paused to catch her breath. "If you still think I'm terrible after it then you can write another article telling the world I'm an arrogant toerag."
Lily mumbled a string of words half to herself.
"Come on, Evans," James said. "Listen, I'll pay and you can pick the place we go and we'll forgo all the usual formalities. It'll be like two friends having lunch, except you can record everything I do and say."
"And we're not friends," Lily added huffily.
"Not yet," James said.
Lily paused again and James could sense her resolve cracking. "I can promise you at least one juicy secret if you show up," he cajoled.
"And I'm allowed to leave whenever I want?" Lily asked. "If you're being a cocky prat I can walk out?"
"Absolutely," James agreed.
"Well—" she hesitated.
"Come on, Evans, do it for the readers," James prodded, grinning as he felt the victory draw nearer. "Imagine how they must be clamoring for you to write another scathing article about how I'm insufferable."
"Alright," she conceded grudgingly. "But one word about being a sex symbol—or—or Scandinavian royalty—and I'm gone. Got it? And I plan on keeping you to that promise of a juicy secret."
"I expect nothing less from you," James answered. "So what do you say we meet up tomorrow at noon?"
"I have an engagement at noon," Lily said stiffly. "How about two o'clock at Andiamo's Café on Hillside Avenue."
"It's a date," James said.
"Er—"
"Just joking, Evans," he said.
"Of course," she said. There was an awkward pause. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow, Potter. Goodbye." Without waiting for him to return the goodbye, there was a faint beep and she hung up.
Lily Evans walked into Andiamo's Café at 1:55, her heeled sandals clacking along the tiled floor and her fingernails beating out a drumline on her stiff leather purse. With a sigh and a flick of her hair she approached the young hostess.
"I have a reservation," Lily said. "It should be under Evans. Party of two for two o'clock. The—er—private room."
"Oh, yes, of course!" the hostess cried, her eyebrows flying up as she registered who Lily was. Or, rather, who Lily was meeting. "Follow me."
The girl led Lily through the café to a small, private room in the back. The enormous table was clearly meant to host large parties of twenty or more people. Lily flushed at the extravagance and hastily set her purse down on the chair at the far end. "Thank you," she said to the hostess.
When the girl had left, Lily opened the metal clasp of her purse and took out first her beloved steno pad, then a pen, and finally a tube of lipstick which she hastily applied, using her phone screen as a makeshift mirror.
"I appreciate the last minute primping, Evans," a familiar voice rang out. "But really, you didn't have to."
Lily dropped the lipstick on the table and snapped her head up, finding James Potter leaning against the door frame. She frowned and clamped the top back on the lipstick with more force than was strictly necessary before shoving it unceremoniously back in her purse.
The lazy grin which had graced Potter's face slid off and was replaced with a look of apprehension. He dragged a hand through his messy black hair and eyed Lily warily as he approached the table. "Look, er, Evans, I'm sorry I was such a git at the last interview—"
"Why don't you take a seat," Lily interrupted him, not wishing to spend half their time listening to Potter's rehearsed apology. She grabbed her steno pad and clicked her pen as Potter sighed and sat in the seat across from her. "Alright," Lily said, glancing up to see Potter's hazel eyes trained on her with a mixture of amusement and trepidation. His bottom lip was caught behind his front teeth and Lily suppressed the urge to sigh happily at the sight. She straightened in her seat and cleared her throat. "So, where would you like to begin, Potter? Don't forget you promised me a juicy secret."
"I haven't forgotten, don't you worry," Potter said, relaxing a bit in his chair. "Well, er, I didn't exactly give you many details last time about the work I did in South Africa, would that be a good place to start?"
Lily fought to cover her look of surprise and simply nodded her head, keeping her eyes glued on the paper in front of her. "That would be excellent," she said.
They spent over an hour discussing James Potter's work in South Africa. He seemed to have a never ending supply of anecdotes and, to Lily's amazement, rather impressive insight about his trip. He spoke about the people he had met while working there with such compassion, Lily had a hard time keeping a neutral face while she hastily scribbled everything down, only stopping every few minutes to take a sip of tea.
"Wow," she finally said after Potter finished his last story. She flipped back through her twenty two…twenty three…twenty four pages of notes and raised her eyebrows, throwing back the last dregs of her tea. "I reckon there's enough here to write a book on."
"So it's enough for your article?" Potter asked, leaning forward and refilling her cup with the kettle that the wait staff had left for them twenty minutes ago. "I can tell you more, if you'd like. Really, just ask, I'm sure—"
"I think I have enough," Lily laughed. "Thank you, though." She checked her watch and was startled by how long they had already spent in the café. How different this interview was going from the last one. Lily was actually enjoying herself. As a matter of fact, she couldn't remember the last time she had had this much fun listening to another person talk. Apparently when Potter made up his mind not to be a pompous git, he was a very interesting person.
"So, I suppose I still owe you one juicy secret, don't I?" Potter murmured, giving Lily a smirk and running a hand through his hair. "After all, that's the only reason you came to meet me today, isn't it?"
"No," Lily said feebly, biting her lip and unable to contain her smile and Potter snorted. "Okay," she conceded, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear. "Maybe it was. But you've made it worthwhile even without the secret."
"Glad to hear it," Potter said, giving her a lopsided grin that made his hazel eyes shine brightly behind his glasses.
"Well, out with it then," Lily said, taking up her steno pad once again and poising her pen over it. "What's this secret that's going to rock my world?"
"Well," Potter said theatrically, leaning forward and speaking in a stage whisper. He made a show of checking over his shoulder to be sure nobody else was in the room—the private room they had specifically booked—before turning back to her solemnly. "You have to promise not to tell anyone except all the thousands of dedicated tabloid readers," he said.
"I promise," Lily replied, equally solemn. Setting down her pen, she held out her hand. Potter shook it and gave her a pointed look.
"I'm going to hold you to that," he said. "Nobody except every tabloid-reading busybody can know. My personal well-being depends on it."
"Noted," Lily said, picking her pen back up and watching Potter with a playful grin. "So what is it? A family no one knows about? A secret girlfriend? A secret boyfriend? Is it Sirius Black? You know there's been some speculation there—"
"What," Potter sputtered, his eyebrows shooting up. "No—no! Nothing like that! I don't know what—no, no, no girlfriends or boyfriends—eurgh and really? Sirius? Of all the fit actors in the world there's speculation about Sirius?"
"Care to elaborate on who exactly those 'fit actors' are?" Lily asked, letting out a small giggle as Potter's ears immediately went bright red.
"No!" he cried, covering his face with his hands. "That's not what I meant!"
Lily only laughed and watched as James Potter—the bloody world famous actor who all of her friends were in love with—groaned in embarrassment.
"If you keep laughing I'm not telling you the secret," he said.
Lily bit her lip and schooled her face to a look of neutrality, although her lip kept twitching up. "Alright," she said. "Nobody is laughing anymore. All serious."
"Good," Potter replied. He took his hands away from his face, which was still a bit pink, and gave her a small smile. "I hope I don't disappoint you with this secret now."
"I'm sure you won't," Lily said.
"Well," Potter took a deep breath. "You know how everyone thinks my career started when I got that role in Defeating a Dark Lord?"
"Yes," Lily nodded, thinking back to the fantasy thriller that had introduced the world to James Potter the heartthrob.
"Well, I'd actually been in something before that," Potter said slowly, tugging at his shirt. "It just was a long time ago and not as—er—big."
"So it was…" Lily prompted, raising her eyebrows.
"An advert," Potter said. "You probably remember it. It was—er—you remember that one for nappies? With the ten-year-old boy who—"
"Who loses his pants in the supermarket?" Lily shrieked, her surprise getting the better of her. Her lip twitched up again and it took all her willpower not to laugh. "That one?" Her lower lip began trembling as the giggles built up in her throat. "Because if that's what you're talking about—"
"Yes, that one," Potter mumbled, his ears going red again. "Well—er—that's—that was me—that's the first job I got—"
Lily couldn't stop herself anymore. The knowledge that James Potter—sex symbol, hot shot James Potter—had gotten his start playing a ten-year-old who lost his pants to advertise nappies was just too much. Her shoulders shook and her lips parted as she let out a shriek of laughter and nearly doubled over, dropping her pen in the process.
"Oh that's brilliant!" she cried. "Just fucking brilliant—oh-oh my god—you—and now you're—but you were that kid!"
"You said you wouldn't laugh," Potter pouted, crossing his arms and glaring at her.
"I said no such thing," Lily argued, forcing herself to sit up again as fat tears of mirth rolled down her cheeks. "I said—I said I wouldn't tell anyone except my dear readers—I never said I wouldn't laugh." She wiped the stream of tears from her face and took a deep breath, swallowing the rest of her giggles as she tried to regain her composure.
"Glad you came now?" Potter asked.
"Oh, so glad," Lily answered, her shoulders still shaking from repressed laughter.
"That'll make one hell of an article," he said. "I can see the headline now: James Potter Nappies Kid From 15 Years Ago Details Inside."
"I won't put it in the article if you don't want me to," Lily said, surprising herself just as much as him. Seeing his face, though, and the relief which flooded it, she made up her mind to keep that promise.
"You sure?" Potter asked, peering at her through his glasses. "It'd sell loads of magazines."
Lily shrugged and smiled. "I think I've got enough about your work in South Africa to sell a load of magazines. Your fans love reading about you doing physical labor." She punctuated the sentence with a wink. Potter choked on his tongue and went red in the face again.
"I—I suppose they do," he said.
Lily grinned and checked her watch. "Oh, bugger," she muttered, grabbing her purse from the chair. "I've got to go. It was—er—nice to see you. I'll give Remus a call when the story's out."
"Right," he said, standing up as she threw her steno pad and pen into her purse and slung the bag over her shoulder. She had worn a white sundress, he noticed. It made her hair look extra bright, and brought out the hints of auburn in it.
"Er, well, goodbye," Lily said awkwardly, holding out her hand over the table.
James nodded and shook her hand, chewing the inside of his cheek.
With one last smile, Lily let go of his hand and walked around the table to the door.
"Wait!" he said loudly, faltering when she turned and looked at him expectantly. "Er—I have your number—" he stuttered, cringing internally as he heard the words leaving his mouth.
"I suppose you do," Lily said slowly, her eyebrows rising.
"Would it—can I call you? With your number I mean?"
For a second it looked as though Lily were going to laugh, but she didn't. She glanced towards the door and then at her hands and finally, up at him. Her mouth curled into a smirk and she flicked a piece of hair over her shoulder. "I suppose you can," she said. With that, she opened the door and walked out, her shoes clicking along the floor as she went.