Chapter 5
“Potter wants to see you,” Mary called out, bounding into the room.
Morning people belong in sanatoriums, Lily grumbled inwardly, burrowing beneath her pillows.
“You’d sleep the day away if we did that,” Mary said, ripping back Lily’s curtains with malicious cheer. Oh. She’d said that out loud. “And anyways, it’s barely morning anymore.”
Lily groaned, shielding her eyes from the stabby light. “You’re deranged. It’s dawn.”
“It’s quarter past eleven, you total sloth.”
“I hate morning people,” Lily whined.
“No you don’t,” Mary trilled in an annoying singsong, “Because James Potter is a morning person and we established just last night that you don’t hate him.”
Lily sat up bolt upright. “Wait, what did you say?”
“I said you don’t hate Potter. You fancy on him, in fact. You’ve got huge, fat, sopping crush—”
“No before that,” Lily glared, resisting the urge to whack Mary with a pillow.
“Oh, I said he wants to see you. He’s waiting in the common room.”
Ten minutes later, Lily skidded down the spiral dormitory steps, having thrown on the nearest clean jumper and jeans, brushed her teeth, and wrenched her hair into a messy ponytail.
She had the disorienting feeling that comes from waking up too fast. Barreling into the common room, she nearly ran into James’ broad chest.
“Oh! Hi,” she said breathlessly, steadying herself with a hand on his pectorals. Gods it wasn’t fair, the way James looked so fresh and well rested and perfectly tousled, while she looked like… well, like she’d just rolled out of bed. He glanced down at her, which was when Lily realized her hand was still on his chest. She pulled it back quickly, her fingers tingling, suddenly remembering the way she’d run away from him the night before. And the way they’d snogged. And the way his fingers had been buried deep inside her…
A dull pink tinged his jawline, and Lily knew he was remembering the same thing.
James cleared his throat.
“Hi. Um. Fancy a walk? I’ve brought tea.”
Tea. Yes. Lily personally felt it was way too early to face the awkward tangle of the night before, but with hot tea, she could handle anything.
“Yes, please.”
She snatched at the mug in James’ hand and he chuckled, some of the tension ebbing away. It always took two English breakfasts with a truly staggering amount of honey before Lily could think straight in the morning.
“Thought you might like that. Shall we?”
Lily followed him through the portrait, guzzling her tea like ambrosia.
“Mm. Gods, it’s perfect. You added honey! How did you know?” Lily moaned.
“We’ve lived together for nearly seven years. I know how you take your tea, Evans,” James said, giving her a steady, patient look.
Lily didn’t know what to say to that, so all she said was a soft, “oh.”
The full awkwardness of the way they’d parted last night descended over her. She wanted to apologize for the abrupt way she’d left him, but had no idea how to start. Hey, remember that time you didn’t want to have sex with me and I freaked out and assumed it meant you were playing a prank on me and ran away? Yeah, sorry about that… Plus, she sensed James had things he wanted to say, too, and she nervously waited for him to start. But after his initial awkwardness, he seemed content to let the quiet stretch between them.
They walked in silence for a bit, James wending them through the castle until they stepped outside to a quiet, secluded cloister. Peeking through the arches, Lily could see that several inches of snow blanketed the grounds around them. Even the Whomping Willow looked almost peaceful beneath its fresh new coat. The frigid air felt like a slap in the face, and worked like a second cup of tea on Lily. She became conscious of their deadened footsteps in the snow-muffled world as they reached the center of the open arcade. Everything was so quiet. It was making Lily jittery.
“I don’t know how you take your tea,” she blurted out.
James turned to look at her, a soft smile overtaking his lips. His hazel eyes met hers and she shivered—not from the cold. It’s just that James looked at her like he knew everything about her, not just the way she liked her tea.
“I drink coffee. A little cream; no sugar.”
“Oh,” Lily said again. Her mind seemed to have taken inspiration from the white landscape around her. Blank. Empty. No thoughts. Which might have been because James was still staring at her, seemingly perfect at his ease.
“We need to talk about last night,” he said.
Suddenly there were too many thoughts in Lily’s brain. Helpful things like, ohgodohgodohgod and, stupidly, do we have to? Because in the cold, glittering light of day, Lily found she was more than a little embarrassed of the way she’d acted last night. The way she’d assumed the worst intentions and lied about the kiss. But James deserved the truth, and the truth was… it hadn’t been just a snog. She’d felt something. She squared her shoulders.
“Yes, we do,” she agreed.
James nodded. “I want to explain what I was thinking last night. But before I do that, I need you to understand something. I’m not breaking my promise from two years ago. None of what I’m about to say is a come-on; I’m not asking for anything from you. I don’t need your favors or your affection, or, gods forbid, your pity. I just need you to understand where I’m coming from. And then we can decide what to do about tonight and… everything else.”
Lily nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay,” James echoed. “I know I’ve behaved like a complete arse for most of the time we’ve known each other, and I know you thought—well, maybe still think—I was only ever interested in you as some kind of game. I can see why you thought that, and I know you have no reason to trust me now, but…” James took a deep breath. His eyes pierced hers, his face unusually serious. “I love you, Evans. I always have. I know I haven’t acted like it, and you’ll never know how sorry I am for that, but from the moment I first saw you, my heart’s belonged to you and you alone.”
Lily was reeling. He loves me? Still? Her heart hammered. She felt light. Hopeful. But something still held her back. The instinct to cross-examine every word out of James Potter’s mouth was too ingrained. She was too used to his words making her look foolish, and right now she was finding it hard to believe he’d been hopelessly in love with her, and snogging several of the prettier seventh years.
“You’ve been with other girls,” she pointed out. “A lot of other girls, from what I’ve heard.” The implied subtext that she followed gossip about James Potter’s dating habits made her blush, but she had to ask.
James exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah,” he said, meeting her eyes a bit guiltily. “After I promised you not to pursue you two years ago, I had no hope that you’d ever… care for me. I knew if I was going to keep my word to you, I needed to make a good faith effort to move on. So I tried. I tried to feel something for other girls, but it didn’t work. I started to get hopeless, every time I was snogging someone and I just felt… nothing. So I stopped. I haven’t been with anyone else in months. I thought, if I couldn’t have you and I didn’t want anybody else, I’d focus on other things.”
It was a reasonable explanation, if a bit callous for the girls he’d used in his attempts to get over her.
“I won’t pretend it’s a good explanation,” he continued, voicing her thoughts aloud. “I do regret it, though most of the girls knew that my… that I wasn’t emotionally available to them. So maybe they were using me, too. I don’t know. But then you and I started to become friends, sort of, and maybe it wasn’t everything I’d ever wanted, but I was so grateful that you didn’t hate me anymore, I thought this can be enough. I can be content with however she wants me.”
She knew it wasn’t his intention, but Lily’s heart cracked a little at that. For the first time, she started to believe that maybe he really did care for her—love her. Because he’d let go of any hope, knowing he might never have her. He’d finally done what she’d been wishing he would do for years. And yet, he’d still been there for her when she needed him. She’d gotten what she’d wished for, but suddenly having James as a friend—and just a friend—seemed less appealing.
James sighed and looked up at the arched cover of the walkway, a pained expression on his face. “And then last night happened,” he said, “and I played the arse again. I should never have provoked you like that. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to make it mean something. I know you don’t trust me yet. I’ve tried to show you the past two years that I’ve changed, but I know it’s not enough… and I know it might not ever be enough. So. What I’m trying to say is. I’d be honored to go with you to the Yule Ball, if you still want me. We can go and I can be casual for one night, I promise. No more declarations of love,” he smiled ruefully.
Lily knew it was time to tell the truth. She knew it wasn’t everything James wanted to hear, but she was eager to at least assuage some of his anxiety about last night. So she screwed up her nerve and said, “It did mean something.”
“What?” James looked at her warily, as though certain he’d misheard.
But he’d been right. Lily couldn’t deny the electric shock she’d felt at James’ touch. They way he’d made her melt. The way her heart stuttered every time he walked into the room, and the way she’d grown to look forward to their nightly rounds together. The way he could make her laugh until her ribs hurt. He made her feel like the most interesting person in the world, made her feel stronger, but also protected and safe at the same time.
“It wasn’t just a really good snog last night,” she said. “It meant something. And, also, I don’t not trust you.”
“Really?” The hope in James’ voice caught at her heart.
“Well, you practically saved my life once,” she pointed out. “It’s hard not to trust somebody after that.”
James shook his head, his brow furrowed. “I don’t want you to feel indebted to me, Evans. You’re special to me, obviously, but I would have done the same for anybody.”
“I know,” Lily said, surprised to find it was true. The boys never talked about it, but there were rumors that James had once saved even Severus’ life somehow… “I’m not saying this out of gratitude. I—I fancy you.”
“You do?” The hope that transformed James’ face was both beautiful and heartbreaking.
Lily nodded. “I told Marlene and Mary about the fake date thing. So, if we go together tonight… That is, if you still want to go with me… Well, it would have to be as my real date.” Seeing the elation on James’ face, she hastened to add, “I mean, just a night. A date. I… I couldn’t guarantee anything after.”
Having gone from despising James to distrusting him to finally admitting she fancied him in just a couple months had been a confusing whirlwind. Lily didn’t want to give him—well, either of them, really—false hope. Even though her heart was pounding almost painfully with passion, she held back a little, unable to give James everything. Because she knew everything would change if she did.
“Just a night, to see how it goes?” he clarified.
Lily nodded.
“Ah, Evans. That’s more than I’d ever hoped to get from you.” James grinned, and braced both hands on the cloister railing, looking out over the grounds like they were his kingdom.
Lily couldn’t help but smile, too. But there was still one small thing worrying at the back of her mind. She blushed all over again remembering the way he’d set her aside last night, like he didn’t want to go any further with her. She just wanted to know why.
“I thought you didn’t want me,” she said softly, coming to stand next to James, her breath floating in a cloud above the steep valley below them.
“What do you mean?” James asked, turning to look down at her sharply.
“I mean, when you stopped… things. Last night. Why did you stop?”
“You—you thought I didn’t want you?” James asked, staring at her dumbfounded.
“You said you didn’t want to!”
James groaned, turning to face her and gripping her shoulders firmly. “Merlin, I’m sorry, Evans. I act like a confounded idiot around you. I could barely form a coherent thought last night, let alone full sentences, but I did not mean that.”
“You didn’t?” she asked hopefully.
James met her eyes with a blazing heat. Lily shivered, not from the cold, but from the warmth that licked up her spine.
“Let me be clear,” James said, pinning her with his gaze. “I want you. I want you so bad most days I can’t think straight.”
Lily’s eyes traced over his face, desire and anticipation pooling in her belly. Every muscle in his body seemed tensed as he held her shoulders. She watched his lips distractedly, reveling in the indent on his lower lip, the little lines at the corners of his mouth, the dimple that appeared when he formed certain words. She couldn’t think straight around him either.
“But I want you for hours,” he continued roughly. “I want you in private, to myself, not a quick shag in a public corridor. I want you writhing for me in my bed, soaking my sheets. I want you loud. And most of all, I want you over and over again until you can’t take any more. Got it?”
Somehow they were standing mere inches apart now, James’ eyes raking hungrily over her body. Lily nodded, her breath coming in quick, desperate pants. The tips of her breasts had hardened to taut peaks that she knew he could see through her jumper.
“Can’t hear you,” James smirked, every inch of his usual self-assured swagger back. “Do you understand?”
Evil. Wanker.
“I understand,” she breathed.
“Good.” His gaze dipped to her lips, then back up to her eyes, a silent question.
Lily leaned forward and closed the space between them.