June, 1976
“I’m sorry!” called a loud voice from further down the aisle. Lily Evans turned around. She knew that voice but she didn’t think she’d ever heard it in the library before. She was tucked up at the back of a secluded aisle in the charms section, dust swirling in the fading light from a nearby window. She thought she'd hidden herself well enough.
“Potter?” she asked. “What-” she started to ask what he was doing there but he cut her off.
“I’m sorry” he said again, a pained look on his face as he approached her. “I shouldn’t have provoked him. He shouldn’t have said that but I shouldn’t-”
“It’s okay,” she said with a sniffle.
“Oh god,” he said, reaching out and putting a gentle hand on her shoulder, “you’re crying.” he didn’t look like he knew what to do with that information.
“I’m fine,” said Lily, wiping her eyes with the back of her sleeve. “He’s called other people that, I don’t know why I thought I was dif-dif-different.” She bit back a sob as James’ arms wrapped tightly around her.
“Because you are different.” murmured James into her hair, “You’re his best friend. He shouldn’t call anyone that, but definitely not you.”
“He’s n-n-not my friend. Not anymore.” she said, rather enjoying the way his body felt pressed against hers. If anyone had told her that morning that she’d find herself crying into James Potter's shoulder that afternoon, she would have told them to check themselves into St Mungo’s. Not that anyone truly believed she hated him as much as she pretended to, least of all James, who told anyone who would listen that she was secretly in love with him.
“Good” said James, rubbing circles into her back. “He doesn’t deserve you.”
“Why are you being so nice to me?” Lily murmed into his now rather wet shirt. It was much softer than she expected. “you’ve been telling me for years that he’s no good.”
“And he’s been telling you the same thing about me for just as long, and yet here we are.” said James, continuing with the rubbing, “I cant deny I’ve wanted you to ditch him, but I never wanted you to get hurt in the process.”
Lily couldn’t help herself. At this, she looked up into James’ face. A strand of thick black hair was hanging down into his eyes. She reached up and brushed it back. His hair was even softer than it looked. He looked back at her with a hard, defiant look and before she knew quite what was happening, he’d cupped her face in his hands and pressed his lips against hers. When she didn’t jerk away immediately, he deepened the kiss and Lily found herself sighing against his mouth.
This may not have been James’ first kiss, if the rumor mill was accurate, but it was Lily’s. And to be honest, even though it was James Potter and even though she’d just been crying over Severus, it was perfect.
James pressed her back into the bookshelf behind her, one hand sliding up to tangle into her hair, the other making it’s way down to rest on her hip. Acting of their own accord, Lily’s hands did likewise - one grabbing hold of the thick locks at the back of his head, the other locking around his neck, pulling him even closer. When their hips bumped together he let out a groan and prised her lips apart with his tongue, exploring her mouth. She gasped at the invasion but copied his movements with her own tongue.
Lily matched James’ every move and his movements became bolder until he tore his hand from her hair to lift her bodily up onto the shelf behind her. The ledge wasn’t quite deep enough for her to sit and she found herself wrapping her legs around his waist to brace herself. He groaned again at the contact and bucked his hips against hers. She felt something hard press against her thigh but barely had time to wonder because James’ hands had found something new to hold onto. They were clutched into her arse, holding her up and massaging at the same time. She gasped again and leaned her head back against the bookshelf. James took the opportunity to kiss and suck at her exposed neck. She dug her fingers into his shoulders in response. Lily’s hips moved against James’ of their own accord. She was feeling things she’d never felt before.
She wanted to touch the hard length pressed against the inside of her thigh, and when James jostled her so that her weight was more firmly resting on his hips and she no longer needed to cling quite so tightly to his shoulders for balance, she did just that. She’d never touched one before. It was firm and warm beneath his trousers and it jumped when she touched it and James let out a hiss against her neck. She tried again. Same thing. James groaned and buried his face into her shoulder and bit down. Now it was her turn to gasp. Two could play at this game. She slipped her fingers beneath his waistband but was quickly distracted when James’ lips returned to her own.
Everything was going swimmingly in Lily’s opinion and she would have been happy to spend several more years pressed up against James, with his hands on her person and his lips doing whatever you could call that against her own. Until suddenly, with a shudder and a loud groan, James jumped away from her. But not before she felt something wet and hot seep through her bunched up skirt against her thigh.
“James” she gasped, mourning the loss of his lips against hers. She looked up at him as she slid down the bookshelf, her wobbly knees barely catching the weight of her body as they dropped to the floor. James’s face was bright red, his hand running through his already thoroughly mussed hair, shirt tails hanging down on either side of his unbuckled belt. Gosh, had she done that? Lily’s face flushed too.
James’s eyes wouldn’t meet hers. She couldn’t see the moisture seeping through his dark trousers but, even if she’d never done that with a boy before, she wasn’t stupid. “Did you-” she started, embarrassed and not quite sure which word to use.
“Ah,” said James, looking down at his trousers and then back up and meeting her eye for the first time, “Yes, yes I did.”
Before she could stop it, Lily felt a grin break onto her face.
“And I’ll have none of that thank you!” cried James, cutting her laugh off in its infancy, “you’re entirely to blame here” he continued, pointing an accusatory finger at her, “with your hips doing the thing and your hands and those… noises.” He looked away again, his blush deepening as much as Lily’s own must have been.
“Yes, well” said Lily, smoothing down the front of her skirt and stepping away from the bookshelf.
“We never speak of this, yeah?” said James, gesturing down towards his wet crotch.
“What, all of it?” asked Lily, hoping the shock and sadness at the thought of never doing that again didn’t show through on her face.
“Um, sure.” said James, looking around, “if that’s what you want.”
“Oh,” said Lily, suddenly unsure of herself. Throughout the whole thing, she hadn’t once thought about what would come after. “Yeah, that’s probably best.”
“Okay,” said James, his blush receding and being replaced by what Lily thought was a rather guarded expression. “Sure, mums the word on the whole thing. Never happened.”
“Never happened” repeated Lily with a sinking feeling in her stomach. What was she saying?
“I’m, ah, glad you’re feeling better - about Snape.” said James, as he turned around to buckle his belt and tuck in his shirt, an unusual show of modesty from the boy.
“Yes,” said Lily, boring a hole into the back of his shoulder with her eyes, “thanks, ah, for the comfort.”
“Yes,” said James tightly, turning back around and failing to meet her eye again, “comfort.” With that, he turned and positively fled the library. Lily couldn’t bring herself to go after him although there was a small part of her, just south of her navel, and maybe also just inside her chest, that screamed out for her to run after him and say that actually, all she wanted to do was talk about what just happened and maybe do it again every now and then, or every day, or maybe even right now.
But she didn’t.
October 1976
It was the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year. Lily had been so sure that James would ask her out, like he’d done for every Hogsmeade weekend before, but he didn’t. Davey Gudgeon had asked her out almost as soon as the date was announced but she’d gleefully turned him down, confident that James's invitation was coming. It hadn’t though.
She’d even brought it up when they’d been partnered together in potions the week before. Asked him his plans. He’d shrugged and said he was likely going with the lads. “Maybe I’ll see you around then,” she said, in what she hoped was a flirty voice. “Yeah maybe” had been his reply. He’d been perfectly friendly throughout the whole exchange so she didn’t think he was mad at her. But she’d been surprised and disappointed.
And so, when, on Thursday evening, Bertram Aubrey, the very attractive head boy and Ravenclaw seeker, had asked if she was free, she’d said yes.
And now here they were, standing in front of the shrieking shack where Bertram had clearly brought her in the hopes of kissing her away from the crowds, a thought that should have thrilled Lily to the core. And yet. And yet, as he pressed his lips against hers, she couldn’t help but think back to that other kiss, her only other kiss, in the library, and the electricity she’d felt when Potter’s lips captured hers.
Bertram was a fine kisser, if Lily was any judge. Just fine. She had no reason to be dissapointed. But when his hands found her waist and explored under the edge of her sweater, she felt a little violated. Not at all like the thrill she’d felt when James's hands had wandered.
Bertram slipped his tongue into her already slightly open mouth and Lily resolved herself to stop comparing him to James. Even though his tongue felt big and clumsy in her mouth and almost made her want to gag, in comparison with James' lithe muscle that thrilled her as it explored the cavity of her mouth. That was the last comparison. She squeezed her eyes shut, intent upon staying in the moment and enjoying this for all it was.
As such, they didn’t notice anyone approaching and jumped apart in shock as a voice called out, “What scandal! Our own head boy sucking face with a prefect!”
Lily didn’t even have to open her eyes to know who’d spoken. She also didn’t have to look to know who would surely be accompanying that voice.
“Oh shut up Black” she said, turning around, face definitely as red as her hair. Sirius Black stood in the middle, letting out a series of sharp bark-like laughs with his head thrown back. Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew flanked him. For once, James wasn’t right by his side, but Lily saw him after a moment, hanging back a few steps, that guarded look back on his face.
“Aubrey,” said Sirius, “you’ve got something, just there.” and pointed at his own cheek before throwing his head back in another raucous laugh.
Lily glanced at Bertram and saw, much to her horror, that he did indeed have a large lipstick smear on the corner of his mouth. He wiped it hastily, looking embarrassed.
“And how many times have I caught you snogging now, Black? 15?” asked Lily, hands going automatically to her hips.
“Oh, more than that!” he said gleefully. “I just never thought I’d get the opportunity to return the favour!”
“Well if that’s all” said Lily, trying to simultaneously catch James' eye and grab Bertram's hand to leave.
“I’m sorry,” said Bertram as they made their way back to the main street. “I shouldn’t have kissed you so publically. I didn’t mean to embarass you in front of your friends.”
“Please,” said Lily, “they should be embarrassed, interrupting us like that! Besides, I didn’t see any of them with dates this weekend.”
“True,” said Bertram, looking slightly placated, “still, what happens between a bloke and a lady should stay private.”
“I agree. Thank you.” said Lily, turning to look into his face. She should be swooning at his chivalry and yet, she couldn’t help but imagine what Sirius would have said if he’d caught her and James snogging instead. Somehow, she imagined it would have been funnier and that James would have had more to say to defend them than Bertram had.
She felt angry but didn’t quite know why. She stomped back up to the castle with Bertram and tried to plaster a smile on her face as he leaned in for one last quick peck on the lips and a “let’s do it again, yeah?”
They didn’t do it again.
December 1976
Lily was stuck. Quite literally. She couldn’t move her feet. She’d been walking through the Gryffindor common room, nose stuck in a book, when she’d bumped into someone who’d thrown their arms out to catch her. She tried to step away from them and apologize, but found she couldn’t move her feet.
At this thought, Lily looked up into the eyes of James Potter, whose hazel eyes were wide behind his glasses. Lily tried once again to take a step away from him and lost her balance at the force of her fruitless effort. His arms were still on her waist and she grabbed his forearms for support.
Gosh, they weren’t that hard and sinewy the last time she’d touched them were they? Surely she’d have remembered that. As such, she had a feeling these forearms were going to be playing a starring role in her dreams that night.
Not that anything she could imagine them doing would be all that different than what they were already doing - holding firmly onto her waist. Although, as she stared into his eyes, caught like a deer in the headlights, her mind created a picture for her of what those forearms might look like on either side of her head, with that messy dark head hovering above her own.
Lily shook that image out of her head, literally shook her head, and looked around the room to see who had done this. Her eyes landed back on James's, who merely grimaced and looked up. She followed his gaze and saw a fresh sprig of mistletoe hanging above them.
“Sirius Black!” she groaned, looking around again, and sure enough, his head popped out from behind an armchair by the fire.
“Did someone call?” he asked, running over to them like a puppy who’s master had just returned, the excitement burning in his gray eyes.
“Padfoot,” said James, glaring at his best mate.
“Prongs,” replied Sirius, as indolent and gleeful as ever.
“Black,” said Lily again, positively growling.
“Yes, we’ve covered me, EVANS,” said Sirius pointedly. “Now,” he continued, clapping his hands together and taking a step back, “you know what to do.” he gestured between the two of them and then spun on his heel and returned to his place by the fire.
James let out a low growl and Lily turned to look back at him, a blush rising quickly up her neck. She couldn’t deny, she’d been dreaming of the moment she’d get to feel his lips again, feel that again, but the look on his face at that moment suggested that maybe he didn’t feel the same anticipation. He had that guarded look back. She didn’t know what it meant, but she’d only ever seen him use it on her. Her whole body sagged in his arms.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
She barely had time for the word, “why?” before his lips found hers once more and caressed them ever so softly, a whisper of a kiss.
They pulled apart, but found that they still couldn’t step away from each other.
“Again.” said Sirius, peering around his wingbacked chair and sounding like McGonnagal during a practical lesson, “but with more tongue.”
James groaned again, dropping his arms from Lily’s sides. She looked up and met his eye, the guarded look was gone, replaced by a look much more akin to the one he’d first given her back in the library; hard, determined, full of desire?
This time Lily made the move. She reached up and cupped his face, giving him a look that she hoped said ‘well if we must do this we might as well do it right.’
She didn’t even lean in halfway before his lips were crashing onto hers once more. One arm snaked around her waist, pulling her closer, while the other tangled itself in her hair. Lily wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her fingers into the back of his head, drawing him closer, lips parting for his tongue before it even asked for entry. When she did finally feel his tongue caressing the inside of her mouth, she let out a deep sigh and sank into his arms.
They didn’t even notice that the spell had broken until James’ hand slid down from Lily’s waist to cup her arse and she responded by wrapping her leg around his waist. Sirius’s incessant coughing finally distracted them and they pulled apart, breathless, ragged, staring at each other with a longing reflected in both of their eyes. Lily could see James’ erection bulging against his thigh and felt her own arousal, stronger than she’d felt since that day in the library, pulsing between her own legs. She might have whimpered.
She hoped she didn’t whimper. She caught Sirius out of the corner of her eye, looking at them gleefully with his hands pressed together under his chin, like he was about to start clapping. She smoothed down the front of her wrinkled skirt.
“Well,” she said, searching James's face for any silent communication but he wouldn't meet her eye. “Happy Christmas to me then.”
James didn’t so much as look at her as she swept past him and out the portrait hole - not that she’d really know if he did, so keen she was on avoiding any look he might shoot her way.
Outside the portrait hole, she slid down the wall and banged her head backwards against it a couple of times. She thought he’d liked her, at the end of last year. She knew he’d enjoyed their kiss in the library, and had reason to believe he liked this one almost as much. So what was so wrong with her? Clearly he was attracted to her, but he just wanted to be her friend.
Well fine.
January 1977
Mary had pulled one over on her for sure. She’d thought they’d celebrated her birthday plenty in Hogsmeade the day before and Lily was quite pleased with her plan to ring in her 17th birthday with a leisurely day hanging around the castle, working on a side project for Slughorn and perusing the leatherbound Jane Austen anthology her mother had sent her. She’d spent most of the day doing just that; dividing her time between the potions classroom and her favorite window ledge in the girls dormitory. So engrossed in Captain Wentworth (an altogether underappreciated Austen Hero in Lily’s opinion) she was that she was taken completely unawares when Dorcas Meadows urged her downstairs under the pretext of needing help with the Charms homework and she found the entire 6th year of Gryffindor (and some 7th years, like Alice Fortescue, Marlene McKinnon, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Frank Longbottom) waiting to jump out and yell ‘surprise’ at her.
Mary and Sirius Black both rushed up to greet her at the bottom of the stairs where she stood, shocked and touched after the surprise. Mary to hug her and pull her into the crowd, Sirius to shove a glass of firewhiskey in her hands. “Mixed with your favorite, muggle coke” he whispered into her hair as Mary pulled her past.
She took a sip and shivered. Sure, she’d had muggle whiskey before, but that was nothing compared to Ogden’s Old, even watered down with the Coke. How had Sirius known she loved it? You couldn’t get that stuff within 100 kilometers of Hogwarts. She looked back at him wildly but he just tipped his glass to her and winked.
Mary whirled her into the crowd as someone started up the music and before she knew it everyone was dancing. Kingsley swooped her up almost as soon as the music started and whisked her into a frenzied dance. She barely managed to knock back her drink before splashing it all over herself. Sirius’s hand appeared out of nowhere and replaced the empty glass in her hand with a butterbeer bottle. Was he trying to get her drunk?
She couldn’t quite care though, as Kinglsey spun her around in time to the song. Other couples were dancing nearby, crowding in on them. Kingsley didn’t care and she laughed as he swung her violently into nearly everyone close by. Mary and Sirius were attempting some sort of complicated duet but were nearly falling over themselves laughing. Alice and Frank, Hogwarts’ newest IT couple, were holding each other much too closely for the fast tempo, swaying dreamily. Poor Peter Pettigrew was trying in vain to dance with every girl on the floor, but was mostly ignored.
Only James was missing from the dancing. Lily looked around as best she could while being swung about by Kingsley and just managed to catch a glimpse of him. He was standing by the fire, drinking straight from a firewhiskey bottle, staring at her. Well, no, staring wasn’t the right word. He was glaring straight at her. It was enough to make her stumble. Kingsley caught her but with a quick, “sorry,” she ducked out of his arms and pushed through the other dancers. James's eyes followed her the whole way over to him.
“Bee in your bonnet, Potter?” she asked, his dark gaze bearing down on her after she stopped in front of him.
“Who, me?” asked James, the darkness evaporating in an instant, replaced by a light wide-eyed smile, “never.”
“Then why have you been glaring at me for the past 10 minutes?” she asked “If you wanted to dance that badly, you could have cut in.” She didn’t really think he’d been glaring because he wanted to dance with her but the deep blush that spread rapidly across his cheeks made her start to question if she hadn’t landed close to the issue.
The dark look faded from his eye as he reached behind him and produced a 6 pack of Coke in glass bottles. His eyes glinted again. “Happy Birthday” he said brightly, “From the Marauders.”
“How did you get this?” she asked, as he produced a glass from seemingly nowhere and poured a shot of firewhiskey and then topped it off with the coke.
“I know a guy.” he said mysteriously, the quirk of his lip begging her to press him.
“And who might that be?” she asked, accepting the proffered glass and taking a delicate sip.
“None of your business,” he said, but not rudely, and pulled a little white box wrapped in a red ribbon from behind his back and handed it to her.
She grabbed it greedily and tore into the bow. She recognized that distinctive ribbon featuring a little white dog. But this couldn’t be - how could he - “Yes!” she said out loud upon seeing the contents of the box; a perfectly formed Bakewell tart from her favorite bakery in her mother’s hometown of Cork, Ireland.
She gingerly took the tart from the box and bit into it, her eyes widening at the taste of the almond filling - her very favourite. Her eyes found James’, the hazel swirling behind his glasses was dark, his pupils dilated. He looked rather as he had, in both the moments before he’d kissed her.
“But James!” she said, mouth still full of sticky tart, “How did you - where - but this is my favourite!”
“Your mother.” said James, in answer to her half questions.
Lily swallowed the tart so quickly it formed a lump in her throat and her voice was a little hoarse sounding to her ears as she said, “You’ve spoken with my mother?”
“We’ve been corresponding.” said James, a glint back in his eye. “It’s not every day that a witch comes of age. Wanted to do something speci- oomph.” For of course, Lily had tackled him in a hug, bakewell tart carefully held behind his back in one hand, the other wrapped around his neck. After a brief moment of stiff surprise, Lily felt James relax and his arms wrapped around her and held her tightly. She pulled away and pressed her lips gently against his cheek. She watched his hand raise up to touch the spot, a bit of a dazed look in his eye.
“Thank you, James,” she said, setting the box down on the table beside them and holding out her hand to him. “Let’s go dance.”
With a big smile, James took her hand, downed the rest of her whiskey and coke and followed her out onto the dance floor where he didn’t let go of her until the wee hours of the morning when someone finally turned the music off and everyone collapsed onto the common room floor in a giant heap.
February 1977
Lily hated Valentine’s day. It was all Potter’s fault. Every other year, he’d publically humiliated her in front of the entire school with some lame Valentine’s themed prank. This year, the first time she actually wanted his attention, he barely acknowledged her all day.
It seemed that since James didn’t want to make Lily the victim of this year’s Marauder’s Valentine’s prank, Sirius stepped up to the plate and chose Marlene McKinnon, his co-beater on the Gryffindor team.
When Lily saw the little cupid fly into the great hall that evening at dinner, she’d downed her pumpkin juice and pushed her plate away, ready to accept her fate, and whatever convoluted declaration of love that was on its way to her. She’d resolved herself from the moment she awoke to be receptive to whatever James threw her way today, no matter how embarrassing.
And yet. And yet, the cupid had flown right over her head, merely scattering a handful of red and gold confetti onto her, thankfully, empty plate, before parking a few seats down in front of Marlene McKinnon, pulling out a trumpet, and delivering a cringe worthy pickup line, at which point Sirius Black practically materialized from nowhere, got down on one knee and proposed actual marriage to McKinnon.
Without quite realizing what she was doing, Lily jumped up from the table in a huff and stormed out of the hall. She brushed past James on her way down the aisle, managing to send him a fierce glare and ‘accidentally’ stomp on his foot on her way past. She barely registered his expression change from glee, to confusion, to concern, to pain, as he went from watching the spectacle, to noticing her approach, to seeing her glare and then feeling her foot stomp his.
She half wished he would follow her out. She was playing out a rather endearing fantasy where he followed her out onto the grounds, begging her forgiveness and declaring his never ending love, resulting in a kiss that picked up right where they’d left off back in December under the mistletoe when she walked smack dab into Benjy Fenwick in the entrance hall.
She threw her arms out to steady herself and Benjy very happily caught her around the waist.
“Well,” he said, smiling down at her as if she was a gift, delivered to him by the gods, “Happy Valentine’s Day to me!” before he kissed her, right on the mouth.
She struggled against him, but he paid her no heed, and didn’t seem to care or notice that she wasn’t actually kissing him back. It was his tongue, barging it’s way through her tightly closed lips that fully awoke her to her situation and with a burst of panic and claustrophobia, she bit down on his tongue, hard. Benjy yelped and Lily tasted blood. She thought she ought to feel a little bit bad about that, but the boy really needed to learn to take a hint.
Before Benjy could do more than scowl at Lily, Mary and Dorcas rushed up and jumped on her, squealing in admiration at her and admonishing Benjy quite harshly. Lily couldn’t help but feel rather proud of herself, as Benjy ran off muttering through a thick mouth about ‘crazy birds’ and ‘just a bit of valentine’s fun’.
The next morning as Lily was revising a History of Magic essay with Remus Lupin over breakfast, Benjy plodded up to the Gryffindor table, absolutely covered in green pustules that burst noisily every time he opened his mouth. She fought the urge to cringe and duck away under the table to avoid him but he looked so pitiful that her better nature won out and she listened to his embarrassed apology while trying to stay out of range of the puss, forgave him whole-heartedly, and was genuinely pleased to see the pustules disappear immediately upon her forgiveness.
“How did that even happen?” asked Lily quietly to Remus after Benjy returned to the Hufflepuff table. Remus shot her a look.
“Surely you recognize a Marauder prank by now?” he asked incredulously.
But later, when she sat next to James in potions and thanked him for getting revenge on Benjy for her he looked genuinely shocked and asked “why would I need to get revenge on Fenwick?” in such a convincing way that she didn’t know what to think.
March 1977
The common room blared with music, much as it had done on Lily’s birthday two months ago. This time, however, there were more than just the 6th & 7th years celebrating. Half of the Gryffindors it seemed were on the dance floor, and Lily was certain she saw a few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws in the mix. As a prefect, she really should do something about this, but that was James Potter, loved by all, and you couldn’t stop them from celebrating his birthday - not this birthday.
Where was the cheeky bastard anyway? Lily didn’t have to look long before she spotted him, next to Sirius, dancing with a group of girls, all probably hoping to give him a birthday snog. When James’ eyes caught Lily’s, it was not lost on her that this was very much the reverse situation of her birthday. And likewise, he extricated himself from the dance floor upon seeing her and made his way over. The girls around him put up a much bigger fight than Kingsley had, all grabbing at his shirt and arms, trying to snake their bodies around his and entice him to stay. But his eyes stayed locked on Lily and he ignored them. Lily felt a feral thing awaken in her chest at the sight of those girls putting their hands on him. She almost growled.
“Bee in your bonnet, Evans” asked James, leaning close to whisper into her ear over the music.
Lily laughed and felt her body simultaneously relax from her jealous tension and tense up at the closeness of him. He smelled good, clean and fresh, and with just a dash of a very manly cologne that flooded her senses and made her a little weak at the knees. She grabbed his forearm to steady herself and he pulled his face away from hers, a questioning look in his eye.
“Happy Birthday Potter,” she said, for lack of anything clever to say. Her brain was far too drunk on his scent, his closeness, the feel of his sinewy arm under her fingers. How much firewhiskey had she had? But that didn’t matter, because James was smiling down at her, eyes glinting behind his glasses. Gosh, did they ever not glint mischievously? What was he thinking? Lily leaned in, just slightly, the better to gaze into his eyes, she thought.
“You’re pissed Evans,” said James, pure glee radiating from his face. Their faces were quite close at this point, or at least, as close as they could be with the height difference. Lily found herself thinking that if only James would be so kind as to lower his face just a bit, she might bite his nose. As such, it was the hollow of his throat that was at her eye level and she might have been a little tipsy, but she wasn’t drunk enough to lick it. She wasn’t. She wouldn’t do that. Even if it took all of her effort and mental power to stop herself.
She shook her head and took a step back, still holding onto his forearm, but creating a little more space between them. The space diluted the scent of his cologne and she felt her head clear a bit, allowing an idea to form in her mind. She slid her hand down his forearm and interlaced her fingers between his.
“C’mere” she said, “have a birthday gift for you.” James merely smiled and followed her like an obedient puppy.
She led him to a secluded corner of the common room; tucked behind the fireplace was a little window seat that couldn’t be seen from the area posing as a dance floor. With her fingers still interlaced with his, she backed up against the wall.
“S’not every day a wizard comes of age,” she said, tugging his hand until he rocked forward and stepped right in front of her, their bodies almost touching. He towered over her. When did he get so tall? She would swear he’d been through a growth spurt even in the last two months. Certainly, he was much closer to her own height last June in the library than now.
It was the thought of the library that sealed her fate. Desire pulsed under her skin, in all the places where only he elicited a response. Her pupils dilated and her eyes clouded over. He smiled gently down at her, desire mirroring her own in his eyes.
“C’mere,” she said again, raising up on her toes in an effort to reach his face. He stayed where he was, eyeing her warily. “I don’t bite.” she added, for good measure.
“Don’t you?” he asked, that playful glint fully at home in his eye, “That’s not what I’ve heard.”
“I knew it was you!” she cried, triumphantly. The smirk he gave her was all the proof she needed to be sure that it had been him who’d cursed Benjy last month. She laced her fingers through his other hand and attempted to tug him down to her level. “Anyways, I’ve never bitten you.”
“Only with your words.” he replied lightly, before kindly leaning down into her and allowing her to press her lips against his. She didn’t know if it might be the alcohol slowing her movements or what, but this kiss was slower and deeper than their other two. James slipped his tongue into her mouth but instead of a heated exploration like under the mistletoe, his tongue moved anguishingly slowly as it gently caressed her tongue and the inside of her mouth.
With their fingers still interlaced, James raised her arms above her head and pressed her firmly into the cold wall with his body with a groan. She could feel every inch of him pressed against her.
They stayed like that for quite some time, mouths leisurely exploring each other, bodies pressed fully against each other. Lily felt like a pot of water slowly rising to a boil over an open flame. After a while it became too much and she struggled against his grip, trying to free her hands. She was going to burst if she didn’t touch him, if he didn’t touch her. James groaned into her mouth at the feel of her body wiggling against his but didn’t release her hands.
Instead, with a soft bite to her lower lip, he pulled away entirely, letting their arms drop but keeping her hands tightly intertwined with his. Lily gasped at the bite and then definitely whimpered out loud this time at the loss of him. She stared up into his face, not caring about what kind of lovesick dreaminess played out over her features. James’ own face was bright red, his breathing haggard.
“Lily” he breathed, pressing his forehead against hers. With a deep sigh, he stepped back and released her hands.
“Why-” she started, reaching for the front of his shirt, desperate to keep kissing him. His large hand wrapped around her own before she could grab his shirt to pull him back in.
“You’re drunk Lily,” said James heavily, “I won’t take advantage of you.”
And with that, he disappeared back into the crowd, leaving Lily tipsy, slightly hurt, and so aroused she could cry.
September 1977
Lily thought she was hallucinating when she walked into the prefect’s carriage, Head Girl badge pinned proudly to her robes, and saw James Potter standing there chatting with Remus Lupin over a chocolate bar, matching Head Boy badge shining from the front of his robes.
“Very funny Potter,” said Lily walking up to them, “give it back to Remus now.”
“What?” asked James, “I don’t have anything of Moony’s”. He made a big show of looking confused and patting his pockets, but his crooked grin gave him away.
“Seriously,” she asked, “You?” She tried to sound exasperated but couldn’t quite keep the smile off her face.
“Dumbledore’s off his rocker.” said James, grinning at her. She took another step closer.
“Congratulations James,” she said, putting a hand on his arm as she reached up and gave him the softest of cheek kisses. “You deserve it.”
“Him?” came a voice from behind them and Lily and James jumped apart. She knew that voice. She turned around and saw Severus standing there, a pained look on his face.
“Yes,” said Lily, “I think he deserves the honor, don’t you? It’s quite fitting after he saved your life last spring.” She fixed Severus with a pointed look that dared him to comment further.
Severus had the decency to flush at this remark. He gaped at them all for a moment. “No - you kissed him!” he finally sputtered out.
Oh, so this wasn’t about James becoming Head Boy.
“Cat got your tongue, Snivelly?” asked James. Lily elbowed him in the ribs. “Ow - Lily - what?” he asked, looking from her to Severus. But Remus beat her to it.
“Don’t rise Prongs” he said, taking a step forward, “he’s not worth it.”
“You kissed him” said Severus again weakly, not paying any attention to the two boys in the carriage.
“Yes, I kissed him.” she said hotly, anger rising up at the thought that he dared to have an opinion on her actions. “On the cheek. This time.” she finished darkly, knowing what that would do to him. It worked.
“This time?” he sputtered, “This time, but you promised-”
If Lily wasn’t angry already, that was enough to tip her over. She felt her own face flushing in imitation of Severus’s. “I never promised you anything, Severus.” she said, eyes flashing. “I can kiss whoever I damn well please and if I think James Potter is worthy of my affections, then who are you to say anything about it?” Her pulse was rushing but she felt James step closer beside her and wrap his hand around hers.
“Sit down Snape,” said James with an authority to his voice Lily had only ever heard on the pitch before. “It’s time to start the meeting.”
Lily looked past Severus for the first time and noticed they’d gained quite an audience as the rest of the prefects filed in. What a great way to start off her headship.
Surprisingly, James took charge of the meeting. He had a natural bent towards leadership and people listened to him easily. By the end of 10 minutes, he’d completely won over the entire carriage.
When the last of the prefects had gone and they were alone in the carriage, James turned towards Lily, a dopey grin on his face and a glint in his eye. “Worthy of your affections, am I?” he asked.
Lily’s breath hitched in her throat. James closed the distance between them in three strides and once again he was so close she had to crane her neck back to look up at him. He stopped just shy of touching her and she found herself desperately wishing he would.
“Hi” she said, after he’d only gazed down at her for a moment, dopey grin firmly in place.
“Hi” he breathed in response. He reached out with one hand, captured her own and raised her hand to his chest. “Hi” he said again.
“James?” Lily asked, prompting him to action, subconsciously licking her lips as her eyes flicked back and forth between his lips and eyes.
“So,” started James slowly, fear creeping onto his expression. “If I’m worthy of your affections, does that mean you’ll go out with me?” His eyes, wide behind his glasses, sought hers.
Lily laughed. She felt the all the tension drain from her body. “Finally!”
“Finally?” asked James, grinning wildly and caressing the back of her hand with his thumb. “Shouldn’t that be my line?”
“I’ve only been waiting for you to ask me again since, I don’t know the end of fifth year!” said Lily, sounding more exasperated to her ears than she would’ve liked. But she had her own dopey grin plastered across her face.
James dropped her hand and jumped back from her. “Since the end of fifth year?” he repeated, “But - in the library - you said-”
“I know what I said, you dolt.” said Lily, smiling as she closed the distance between them again and took his hands in her own, “But since when do you ever listen to what I say?”
James smiled wryly and squeezed her hands, “I guess I started listening after you practically snogged me to death and then still didn’t want anything to do with me.”
“Well that’s patently not true” said Lily. Why wasn’t he kissing her? She shuffled even closer so the toes of their shoes were touching. But James seemed content to just smile down at her like an idiot.
“If you wanted me to ask you out, why did you go to Hogsmeade with Aubrey?” asked James, his brows creasing.
Now it was Lily’s turn to frown. “I waited weeks for you to ask me! I didn’t accept his invite until two days before, after you made it perfectly clear that you were going with the lads, even though I’d been hinting I wanted you to ask me!”
“Hinting?” asked James incredulously. “You never hinted anything! I would’ve picked up on that. I’m quite good at hints.”
Lily laughed. She extricated one hand from his and reached up to pat his cheek. “No love, you’re really not.”
James harrumphed and opened his mouth to argue but Lily cut him off.
“Oh just shut up and kiss me already!”
With a glint in his eye, James pulled her to him and pressed a rapid sequence of kisses all over her face, rubbing his nose against hers, before finally finding her lips and capturing them. His hands tangled in her hair and Lily’s pressed against his back, holding him close.
He tasted like chocolate. When he licked the outside of her bottom lip, Lily readily opened her mouth for him and sighed against him as his tongue resumed it’s exploration. His arms wrapped tightly around her body and lifted her right off her feet. Lily gasped against his mouth and James released her lips only to swing her around before placing her gently back on the ground. She thought his face might break in half if he smiled any wider.
“I took that hint.” he said, proudly.
Lily laughed, “That wasn’t a hint, it was an order. But I am glad to see you can follow orders Potter.
“Now,” she added, lacing her fingers with his, “why don’t you kiss me one more time and then tell me about this date you’ve got planned.”
James did as he was asked.