the view between villages

lily

having a hangover has never boded well with lily potter. she hates headaches, and hates hangovers more. curse whoever invented them. genuinely, she could hex them into oblivion and feel zero guilt. the toilet bowl is cold against her sweating, pounding forehead, giving only minor reprieve to the blinding misery within her skull. 

“hey, love,” james murmurs. she wants to curse him. why would he let her drink that much? she can’t even remember the night before. she remembers grabbing james’ arse, and taking a veritaserum shot, but that’s about it. the entire party is shrouded in fog. how did she get home? she imagines it was james, seeing as he was the designated sober person the night before. sirius and regulus were remus’ problem to deal with. she can remember that much. 

“why would you let me drink that much?” she groans. her temples feel moments away from catching fire. james is an idiot for letting her overindulge. yes, she needed it with all the stress held in her body, but still. she’s a mother. she’s supposed to be put together and stable, not a drunken, fumbling mess. 

“you seemed like you could use some fun. usually you’re the one taking care of me, so i thought it would be nice to let go for a night,” he whispers. she could kiss him, if it weren’t for the fresh vomit taste on her lips. he’s thoughtful, and while he may screw up sometimes, he truly means well. she honestly couldn’t picture a better husband for herself. 

“i’m sure drunk lily had a blast,” she muses. drunk lily is like a completely different person from sober lily. she lacks restraint, does what she wants, doesn’t think twice. drunk lily is like the definition of intoxication. she’s sure there’s a picture of her in a dictionary somewhere. 

“yeah, that’s definitely the word i’d use,” james chuckles. his fingers are warm against lily’s clammy forehead as he brushes a few strands of hair from her eyes. she groans. habing a blast is the equivalent of embarrassment when it comes to drunk lily. she’s not ready for the stories james likely has prepared of her antics from the night before. she honestly feels a bit bad for marlene. the poor girl does not deserve whatever she was put through last night. 

“what did i do?” she asks. james strokes the back of her head, but doesn’t respond. that’s not a good sign. she must’ve done something really stupid, then. “really, james. just tell me.” 

“fine,” james finally sighs. he’s silent for another few moments, but lily knows not to push. he’s always been terrible with words, always needed a second to put together the stories he tells. that was always lily’s favorite thing about james throughout hogwarts. he was always so careful with his words around her, and he didn’t stop after they graduated. four years later, an he’s still just as calculated as the day they met. “you groped regulus. in front of sirius and remus. and dorcas.” 

“no i didn’t,” lily gasps. she could be sick right about now. actually, she might be. actually, she is. she’s releasing the contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl for the third time since waking up. how could she be so stupid? why would james let her drink so much she groped their best friend’s little brother? she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“sorry, love. i didn’t know he was with dorcas when you went to talk to her. he didn’t seem too pleased with you,” james says weakly. she wants to scream. lily wants to scream until her lungs aren’t capable of producing oxygen. how could she? genuinely, how did she let that happen? 

“what did i grab this time?” she asks. she needs to know. she’s dying to know, actually. how bad was it? how horrible of a person is she? god, right in front of sirius. 

“just his arse. you looked seconds away from snogging him, though.” lily winces. she nearly cheated on her husband, right in front of him, with his best friend’s brother. she’s awful. she’s really, truly awful. 

“i’m so sorry, jamie.” she doesn’t feel like an apology is good enough. nothing is, actually. nothing she can say or do will make up for her almost-cheating. wait, no. she grabbed regulus. she cheated on james. 

“i’m not entirely sure it was even regulus, actually.” he’s speaking in almost a whisper, like it’s some dirty secret he can’t risk getting out. her interest is piqued. 

“what’s that supposed to mean?” james is silent again. his brown eyes are darkened with swarming thoughts, plump lips pursed and fingers fidgeting with lily’s hair. 

“you dared pads to kiss me, and i did it, but it wasn’t… it didn’t feel like padfoot. i think it was regulus. i think they switched places.” lily wants to cry, but for a completely different reason. she didn’t cheat on james. she didn’t ruin her marriage. it was sirius she groped, not regulus. her heart drops within the same fragile moment. she distinctly remembers seeing sirius and remus swap spit on multiple occasions. 

“remus cheated on sirius,” she breathes. it feels like she’s been punched in the stomach. her marriage isn’t over, thankfully, but remus and sirius might be. especially with a full moon in less than a week. james’ warm hand rubs circles into her back, but it does nothing to shake the dread from her bones. remus cheated. 

“i’m sure they’re alright, lils,” he soothes. she wants to vomit again. she’ll anything to cure the void opening in her stomach. remus and sirius can’t end. they’re the only example she has of unconventional working out, and if they go down, then… then what? what unconventional relationship is she so worried about? she can’t possibly be thinking of regulus at a time like this. she can’t possibly be so worried about regulus. kind, closed off, secretly fond regulus. 

maybe this isn’t such a silly crush after all. maybe it’s just the hangover talking, scrambling her brain, but she can’t seem to shake those gorgeous grey eyes from her mind. she can’t seem to forget the high cheekbones, the endearing scowl, the long fingers and effortlessly neat curls. regulus is a beautiful specimen and she isn’t afraid to admit. is she… no. she can’t be. she can’t fancy regulus black. but, maybe she does? 

“do you fancy him? regulus, i mean.” james is silent for a moment too long. a moment sealing of their fate. for the first time that morning, lily focuses in on james. his face is the epitome of inner conflict. his eyebrows are knitted together, his mouth is pinched into a tight line, his cheeks are tense. the eyes are the windows to the soul, though, and she can see the answer before he speaks it. “you do, don’t you?” 

“i might.” two words that mean the absolute most to lily potter. two words that crack open her entire world, split it down the middle, finally allowing the innermost hidden emotions bubble to the surface. she’s crying, tears rolling down her cheeks, but she’s not upset with james. she can’t be. because she fancied him first, back in third year, when she first discovered the ability to have crushes. she had fallen for him years ago. she was drawn in by the chubby cheeks and sparkling eyes, and locked in by the intellect and work ethic. she loved regulus before she ever learned to care for james, and she thinks that’s the worst part. 

“i think i always have.” it hurts to admit. it hurts to see the sorrow latching onto james’ honeyed irises. it’s done, though. she’s already spoken her truths and there’s no going back. then james does something completely unexpected. he smiles, broad and sunny, and the pad of his thumb wipes a tear from her warm cheeks. 

“what the hell are we going to do, lily?” he’s chuckling, shaking his head, and all she wants to do is kiss him. she wants to kiss him until her lungs forget to function, until her heart slows to a stop, until their bones disintegrate into the earth. so she does. she kisses her husband soundly, cups his face in shaking hands, pours every ounce of her soul into his chest through his mouth. he drinks every drop like it’s the last time he’ll ever touch her. 

harry is home for dinner, which is a relief in and of itself. lily loves time to herself and her husband, but she loves time with harry even more. harry is her light, her reason for breathing, and she finally feels sane as he sits in his high chair. he’s a excited as she serves dinner, simple pasta in a red sauce that james loves. she presses a kiss to his forehead as she slides into her chair beside her husband. 

“i’m so happy to have him back,” she mutters into james’ hairline. he chuckles as he presses a kiss to her cheekbone. she’s practically swelling as he embraces her. 

“i missed the little guy so much,” james muses. harry is a ball of energy. his pasta is already coating the high chair, bound to stain the white plastic. he’s got handfuls of it in his fists, sauce smeared on his cheeks, and he’s still the most beautiful child lily has ever laid eyes on. she loves her son so much it leaves her sore sometimes. 

“i don’t know how we lasted a full night without him. little bugger’s all i think about.” lily fluffs harry’s black locks as she speaks, slides her thumb over his chubby cheeks. he takes after james so much, from the strong brow bone to the sharp cupid’s bow, but he carries lily’s eyes in his sockets. she’ll never get over how perfect the little one is. this is her baby, a flawless combination of james and lily potter. even his smile is a mix of their spirits. every beat of her heart whispers his name, harry, harry, harry, and his laugh is carried through her veins. 

“i’m not excited for the day we have to send him off to hogwarts,” james muffles through a mouthful. lily swats him over the head, mumbling a reminder to swallow before speaking, but she has to agree. she can’t picture the little boy in front of her growing old, no longer needing his parents every step of the way, and it hurts so much to think about. one day, harry won’t need her, and it’s the worst agony she can ever experience. 

“don’t put that thought in my head, james,” she whispers. her food is practically untouched in the bowl in front of her. she can’t bring herself to eat with the future gnawing on her brain matter. 

“we’ve got to prepare for it at some point, love.” she knows it’s true. she has to think about it, but that doesn’t mean she wants to. lily is a stubborn mule when she wants to be, and right now it’s all she desires. she can’t picture harry in hogwarts robes waving goodbye to his home. she can’t and she won’t. 

“remember how awkward you looked in your robes first year?” she says instead. james was always an odd child, first year especially. lily had actually laughed at him the first time she saw him. he was drowning in his black robes, scrawny limbs buried in the sleeves and hem getting caught beneath his shoes. 

“mum insisted on getting them a size too big because i’d grow into them. i don’t think she realized growth spurts don’t happen at eleven,” james responds. he’s smiling wistfully, an expression only achieved by memories of his doting parents. lily had met effie and monty potter early in life and they’d practically adopted her. effie taught her spanish recipes and monty had taught her a few phrases in punjabi. james had lovely parents, kind souls down to the atoms holding them together. she’ll forever be grateful for them and their acceptance, and she’ll forever hold them in her heart and home. she knows james will too. 

“effie was always the worrywart, wasn’t she?” lily chuckles. she pushes around a few noodles in her bowl. both of her boys are finished eating, and she’s barely taken three bites. hunger simply isn’t coming to her tonight, which is frustrating, but she’ll deal. if anything, a midnight snack is an option. 

“she was. i miss that woman every day of my life.” james sighs, then propels himself from his seat and collects dishes from the table. including lily’s. she can’t bring herself to be upset. it’s not like she would’ve eaten it anyways. “i’ll wash dishes if you wash haz.” 

“you just don’t want to deal with pasta sauce bath time,” lily giggles. she follows james to the counter and wraps herself around him, pressing a soft kiss to his clothed shoulder. she loves her husband more than anything. god, does she love him. a flash of grey eyes enters her mind, and she pushes it right back out. right now is james time, not regulus time, and she’ll be damned if she lets him ruin another sweet moment with the love of her life. 

“you’re absolutely right. you chose red sauce, you get to deal with it,” james says, though he’s laughing as he presses a soft kiss to her forehead. his stubbly beard prickles against her skin and his thumbs massage her hip bones, and she’s so beyond happy here in his presence. she wants to bundle him up and hide him behind her ribs. if she could, she’d devour him whole. close is never close enough, touching is never touching enough, loving is never loving enough. she wishes she could love him harder, sounder, combine their souls and bodies into one. for now, she settles for a press of lips to his collarbone and a whispered devotion of love. 

“time for a bath, harry,” she says as she perches the little body on her hip. he claps his hands over her shoulder, right beside her ear, with a huge smile on his chubby cheeks. 

“baf! baf!” he exclaims. harry is a smart boy for his age, capable of speaking in full sentences, though he chooses most of the time to stick to small words. he’s easily frustrated and overwhelmed, a trait effie had once assured her james carried in his childhood, and she knows better than to push. harry will grow out of it, she’s sure. she’s eating up the baby talk while it lasts, though. she’ll only get so much before he decides to start using his big boy sentences. 

she wonders idly if regulus was a tough child too. did he also struggle with words? was he as energetic as james and harry? she knows for certain he struggled to lose the baby fat in his face and legs. she heaves a sigh. again with the regulus talk. she reprimands herself as she settles harry in his bath water. not everything is about regulus. what is with her lately? regulus isn’t so special that she should waste her family time thinking about him. he is, though, and she knows it, but it doesn’t ease her frustration any. 

she’s still thinking of him after she tucks harry into bed and slides under the duvet with james. she’s still thinking of him as james tucks her under his chin and presses a goodnight kiss to the tip of her nose. why can’t she stop? he’s just a man, a man like any other. she’s aware that he isn’t, that he’s more than the average man, but she’ll tell herself he is until she lets go of this infatuation she holds for him. she has a feeling she’s going spend a long time talking to herself. 

“what’s on your mind?” james whispers. she loves that they do this. that they whisper to each other in their bedroom like they did in the dorms at hogwarts. 

“we’ll have to get jobs soon. your fortune won’t keep us afloat forever,” she whispers back. she knows it’s true. the fortune might never run out thanks to royalties from his father’s company, but it’s most likely significantly depleted by now. they’ve been living off it for five years now and they absolutely haven’t been living frugally. 

“i’m nervous to leave harry with a nursery, though. i don’t want anything to happen to him,” james says. she’s got an idea on the forefront of her mind, ready to roll off her tongue, but she stops herself. would it be wrong to suggest it? yes, yes it would, but it feels like the only option given the predicament they’re in. 

“why not ask regulus to babysit him while we work? at least until he gets a job,” she whispers. she can’t tell if she fucked up or not. would james be okay with it? did she screw up by saying that? he’s not speaking, so she assumes she did. damn her and damn her stupid obsession with regulus black. she’s going to single-handedly ruin her entire marriage within a week over him. 

“it’s not a bad idea. do you think he’d be willing?” james finally responds. she breathes a sigh of relief. at least james isn’t mad at her. 

“james, regulus adores harry. i don’t see why he’d have much of an issue.” james hums. oh, he’s tired. she feels bad. she’s keeping him awake speaking about their hypothetical future.

he doesn’t respond in words, but rather snores. she’s thankful he’s at least found it within himself to sleep. she can sleep easy now, too. she can rest. her eyelids shut, and her breathing evens, and morpheus is gripping her in lavender-scented fingers.

lavender. sunlight. stars. regulus.