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A group of Gryffindors—both past and present—spill into the sun beating down upon the cobblestones of Diagon Alley, their weekly summer lunch at The Leaky Cauldron having come to an end. The group of seven loiters for a handful of minutes, lamenting upcoming obligations that are sure to decrease their numbers in the coming weeks.
As the idle chatter crescendos into excuses and farewells, Lily’s eyes take in the group around her and she feels warm and happy in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. Her very public falling out with Severus had hardened her heart to friendship for so long, she feels nothing but gratitude for the six Gryffindors who had made such an effort to wear down those walls.
Dorcas Meadowes and Samantha Fawley were whispering conspiratorially to her left, Sam undoubtedly filling the other girl in on her first weeks at the Ministry offices since graduating Hogwarts in June. Milling about in front of her, oscillating between chatting and people watching, stood the last people she ever expected to befriend: James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. It was slow and gradual, but over the last year, she had come to enjoy their company, begrudgingly respect their talents for mischief, and feel as strongly protective of them as they seemed to feel about her, Dorcas, and Sam. It was a friendship she’d grown to treasure.
Sam and Dorcas broke apart and walked to the group, signaling time for final farewells.
“I might not be here for the rest of the summer,” Peter sighs, kicking a nearby rock with a beaten up trainer. “My gran’s sick, so we’re taking the train to see her come Tuesday. I don’t expect we’ll be back for a few weeks.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Peter—I hope she feels better soon,” Dorcas offers gently from her spot next to Lily.
Peter shrugs, unsure of what to say. “I’d apparate here for next week, but it’s trickier with Muggles. Mum says she doesn’t care if I’m of-age, I should keep magic to a minimum while we’re there.”
Lily nods in understanding. “It’s so funny, isn’t it? To finally be able to use magic as freely as we want but still meet these arbitrary restrictions?” The shorter boy smiles, grateful for a shared perspective from someone in the group.
“Well that’s rubbish.” James scoffs in disbelief. “As long as you’re not breaking the Statute of Secrecy, what does it matter if you use magic when you want to?”
Lily feels the collective eye roll of the group, opening her mouth to speak before being beaten to the punchline by Remus.
“Prongs, how many times must we go over this?” It’s a good-natured admonishment from the tall, frail boy. “Not everyone can do what they want whenever they want. That’s a Potter specialty.”
“Hey!” he shrouts indignantly, looking around at the group for someone to come to his defense. His eyes land on those of his best friend and Lily stifles a laugh as Sirius throws his hands up in defense.
“Moony’s right, mate. I faced many consequences of doing whatever I wanted. That is”—a smirk takes over his face—”before I started living at the Potters.”
The group breaks out in an appreciative chuckle at James’ expense and he crosses his arms in defiance.
“I won’t be here next week either, Peter,” Sam offers in solidarity. “The Ministry’s identified a new herd of Centaurs along the eastern seaboard and our department is setting out to make contact with them at the end of the week.” Her brown eyes flash with excitement, eager for her first job assignment.
“Wow, they’re really putting you to work right out the gate,” Sirius comments.
“I’m ready.”
“Be careful, won’t you?” Lily asks, stepping around to hug the taller girl. Sam shoots her a cheeky grin.
“When am I not?”
A snort is heard from across the group. “I can think of a couple of times,” Remus deadpans, eyebrows raising. This sends the group into another fit of laughter in which hugs are given all around, their numbers slowly dwindling as Sam, Peter, and Dorcas peel off one by one and head for the apparition points.
Remus and Sirius leave together, muttering about working on a motorbike, and Lily realizes that she and James are the last two left. She shifts back and forth on her feet, restless at the idea of going home. Her sister’s wedding prep is well underway and she’s dreading returning. She heaves a heavy sigh.
“Sickle for your thoughts, Evans?” James is looking at her curiously, and she feels her skin burn under his gaze.
She’s been feeling that way a lot lately.
Sighing, Lily shrugs. “It’s my sister. I’m supposed to help her with wedding preparations today but it’s going to be…so unpleasant.”
A crease forms between his brow. “Wait, your sister who—”
“My sister who wrote me a letter specifically outlining why I will not be a bridesmaid in her wedding, yes,” Lily nods, finishing his unasked question.
“Merlin she sounds like a piece of work,” he grumbles. As if realizing he spoke out loud, panic washes over his face and he looks at her with concern. He opens his mouth, likely to apologize, but Lily cuts him off with a small shake of her head.
“No it’s okay. She is.”
His mouth closes, and he’s thinking. “Then why are you going?”
“Because I’m her sister and I’m supposed to?”
“Do you want to go?” He presses.
“It’s not that simple.” If only it was. Of course she didn’t want to go.
The boy in front of her shrugs. “It sounds simple enough to me: it’s going to be miserable for you. Don’t go.”
Lily blinks at him—he speaks as if it’s the easiest thing in the world to just live by your own rules, put yourself first. He’s standing there, staring at her as the concept winds its way through her mind.
Why should she go? It’s not like Petunia actually wants Lily anywhere near her wedding. This is just a can’t-miss opportunity for her to boss Lily around, have the younger girl do her bidding. What Lily really wants is to stay as far away from the house as she can until Petunia and her friends have gone back to whatever inn they’re staying at. What Lily really wants is to enjoy her last summer with her friends before she enters the real world. Before she’s forced to face, on such a larger level, all the daunting perils of a divided wizarding world.
James bumps her shoulder with his and the motion jerks her out of her reasoning. She casts him a glance and sees him grinning at her expectantly.
“I don’t know if it’ll sweeten the deal any, but I have nothing to do for the rest of the day. I know an afternoon with me might not be as fun as picking out paper samples, but…” She doesn't know if she’s imagining the faint blush on his cheeks as he talks, but a swooping in her stomach takes the reins.
What Lily really wants, if she’s being honest with herself, is to spend the day with James Potter.
She tilts her head to the side and raises her eyebrows in response—a challenge. “Alright, I won’t go. But I expect a fun and jam-packed day—one for the books. Petunia may kill me for skipping today and I want to have lived a full life before the end comes.”
“Well in that case,” James said, holding out his hand, “we’d better get started.”
.::.::.::.
“Bewitched by Bravemont: A Lover’s Curse.”
“The Potion-Master’s Passion: The Cauldron of Conception.”
“You’re joking!”
“I swear, look!” James turned the book in his hands around to face where Lily was doubled over in laughter, a copy of Bewitched by Bravemont clutched tightly to her chest. Sure enough, there was, on the cover, a handsome wizard bent over a simmering cauldron, his impossibly busty and beautiful companion wrapped around his shoulders, with the scrawling title up at the top.
Seeing the cover sent Lily into another fit of giggles, earning them disapproving looks from other customers in Whizz Hard Books. James scoots closer to her to hide her from view, pushing them both into the nearest shelves. She feels her pulse begin to rush at the closer proximity and knows a blush must be creeping up her neck as he bends down and whispers close to her ear.
“Easy now, Evans, or you’ll get us kicked out, and that’s not on the agenda. I can’t have you cross with me.”
She clears her throat, hoarse from the laughter and looks up at him quizzically. “I wouldn’t be cross with you.”
James lets out a light-hearted scoff and steps back, looking around them at the high shelves. “You’d absolutely be cross with me if I managed to be the reason you got kicked out of a bookstore.”
She surveys him and begrudgingly rolls her eyes after a few seconds of silence. “Fine, you’re right.”
He gives her that dazzling smile that she’s become so enamored with and then goes back to searching the shelves for more ridiculous titles. As he does so, Lily watches him and feels her heart constrict in her chest at the realization that the two of them get along so well now.
Ever since the middle of sixth year, the formerly strained relationship between herself and the sixth-year Gryffindor boys had been slowly mended. It took time, but growth and forgiveness were the types of actions that didn’t go unnoticed in Gryffindor Tower, nor unrewarded in a time as fraught as these. As tensions eased and friendship bloomed, Lily found she quite enjoyed the pack of boys she’d once been so apprehensive about. She’d slowly pieced together that their public facade wasn’t everything it seemed, and it made her affection for the boys—all of them—grow a little deeper.
There was something about how they all rallied around one another in times of hardship, supported each other through the lows and celebrated louder than anyone else at the highs that made Lily’s heart glow. Peter, perpetually forgotten by students and teachers alike, was always lauded for his discerning eye and sense of humor. Remus, always having to miss classes once a month due to his affliction (because of course, Lily knows he’s not visiting his mother, but she’ll tell no one), was always caught up-to-speed by the next week of classes. Sirius, broken with his family since the summer before, was regarded, she knew, as the Potters’ second son, having moved in with them after running away. And James, so fiercely protective of those around him, the glue holding everyone together, harboring any and all burdens thrown at him.
The depth to which he cares for his friends is something she finds both incredibly noble and frightening. She’s never known loyalty, never known love, like that. Petunia and Severus had been the strongest relationships in her life and had both fallen apart, damaging her in ways she’s still not fully sure she’ll ever understand. She has Dorcas and Sam, of course, but truthfully ever since Severus, she’s kept her friends at a distance, unwilling to give someone the power to hurt her again.
But she’s realized, much to her initial horror, that she craves to be known, to be cared for with the ferocity she sees James display towards those in his life.
The realization hit her shortly before the summer, on an unremarkable, boring day. After meeting with Slughorn to discuss the possibility of a work-study project for the following year, she realized she had missed lunch. This in itself wasn’t a problem—she’d taken some extra toast at breakfast and wrapped it carefully in her bag, knowing that missing lunch would be a very real possibility. Deciding to head straight to the common room before the masses, she was able to claim the spot on the sill by the open window, enjoying the sweet, slightly warm air that had come to signal the end of term. Her housemates trickled in, but she paid them no mind, her thoughts wandering to her last summer before the end of Hogwarts. His voice calling her name drew her attention, and luckily it did, for he had tossed a small package towards her before she fully knew what was happening.
Instinctively, she reached for it. Miraculously, she caught it. Her eyes went from the crudely wrapped package to the boy in front of her, brows furrowing in an unasked question.
“They had lemon drizzle at lunch today, so I grabbed you a slice. I know you like it.” James saluted with two fingers before turning to joining whatever conversation the other three of his mates were settling into.
Lily stared at the bagged treat in her hands and she felt her breathing become shallow. It was such a small thing to elicit such a reaction from her. Sometime in the last term, he’d learned enough about her to just know things, even when she didn’t speak them aloud. She wasn’t going around school waxing poetic about the delicacy of lemon drizzle—it wasn’t even her favorite of the Hogwarts puddings. But he knew, he’d learned that she liked it. He knew her.
That was the start of the ache. The longing to be cared for, to be looked after. An ache that only grew deeper every time their group of friends met up over the summer and she was faced, blinded again and again, by the kindness and affection he shows for those around him.
“Like what you see?”
James’ voice again pulls her out of her thoughts and she’s mortified to find him staring at her, grinning.
“I was”—she grasps for an excuse that’s not ‘thinking about all the ways you’re incredible’, “—reading the titles on the spines. Better to get a bigger picture back here.” She gestures at the full wall of books with her hands, feeling like an idiot.
“Uh-huh,” James responds skeptically, still grinning. He moves towards her and brandishes the book he’s pulled for this round of their game.
“Under the Spells of Seduction.”
She snorts, to her horror, at the title. “No counter-spells, I presume?”
“What did you find? You know, since you were reading the spines?”
The heat rushes to her face again and she approaches the stacks, sending a silent prayer to the universe to pull something decent from the shelves that wouldn’t expose her rotten lie. Fingers dancing along the spines (which she now sees have author names rather than titles) she chooses a pale yellow book and hands it to James without looking at it.
He’s silent as he reads the cover.
Lily strains to read it upside down from its position in his hands, and feels her face turn a deep shade of crimson as she reads ‘Magicking More: Taking the Next Step in Love’ on the cover.
She snatches the book back from him, stifling a groan and feeling pinpricks of panic sweat all throughout her body. She takes a deep breath, hoping her voice is passably normal when she calls out over her shoulder, “So where to next?”
.::.::.::.
“Scales, Evans?”
“I shouldn’t have to listen to this. You promised a fun afternoon and now you’re berating me!”
“Yes, because it’s summer and you’re window shopping for school supplies!”
They’re standing shoulder-to-shoulder in front of a rather intense display in the window of Wiseacres Wizarding Equipment, passing a boat of chips back and forth between the two of them. They’d spent the better part of an hour wandering aimlessly through the alleys of Wizarding London, window shopping and commenting on some of the more outrageous wares for sale.
“You were oohing and ahhing over that broom kit a few stores back!” she cries indignantly.
“Yes, because quidditch is a hobby.”
“Potions is just as much a hobby as quidditch!”
“Evans, you’re breaking my heart. That may have been the worst thing you’ve ever said to me.” James feigns chest pains and Lily scoffs, chucking a chip at him in protest.
“Leave me alone!” she laughs, stepping closer to look at the price tag on the silver scales. Her smile falters as she scans the price tag and reads Seven Galleons. She had hoped to start the year off with her own set of high-end scales, but that didn’t seem to be in the cards. She steps back in line with James and grabs another chip, gnawing at it while trying to calculate how quickly she could save up.
Lily feels his eyes on her—he’s noticed the shift in her demeanor. Throwing him a sideways look, she summons her smile again and shrugs. “If it’s any consolation, I’m not going to order them until school starts.”
His eyes are flickering between her own, trying desperately to understand how to fix whatever’s happened. “You sure?” He steps towards the door. “I don’t mind going in if you need them.”
She shakes her head, waving him back. “I’m sure, really.” He stands for a second, staring at her, and she shifts uncomfortably under his gaze before sighing. “James Potter if you step one foot into that shop I’m leaving.”
He’s not fully convinced by her performance, and she can see the question on the tip of his tongue, but he bites it back nonetheless and returns her smile instead.
“Well we can’t have that.” He steps back in line with her, grabbing a chip before teasing her. “Merlin, I still can’t believe you’re looking at school supplies on summer break.”
“Hey, at least I’m not buying school supplies on summer break.”
“Right you are, Evans,” he says, checking her hip with his. “That’d be a true crime. I’d have to cut ties with you completely, I reckon.” His eyes flash towards hers, shimmering with mirth. “You’re safe this time.”
Lily lets out a faux sigh of relief. “Good.”
“Good,” James agrees warmly, eyes lingering on her face.
She feels the heat rising in her cheeks under his stare and breaks eye contact, looking down the cross-section of the street. “I do need to buy some treats for Tess while we’re here, otherwise I’m afraid I’ll get no letters this summer.”
“Eyelops is just up the road.” He nods his head towards where she’s already looking. She takes a step in that direction and they’re off to the next shop. “Honestly, you’d think the owls were the ones in charge…”
.::.::.::.
Lily’s getting antsy as she stands in the little shade offered by Florean Fortescue’s awning, a never-melting ice cream cone in each hand as her neck cranes over the crowds in Diagon Alley. James had stepped out a quarter of an hour ago with a quick “be right back,” and he was nowhere to be seen.
She battles with the anxiety that bubbles to life in her stomach—she knows James isn’t the type of person to ditch her, but maybe she was so suffocating he just needed some time away? Maybe he was regretting his commitment to spending the whole day with her. Maybe she’s being too flirty, maybe she doesn’t have as good of a grip on her emotions, on this crush, as she thinks she does.
Running through the events of the day in her mind, she frowns. If she’s being honest with herself, she actually thinks the day is going well—she’s having a lot of fun, and it seems like he is too. There hasn’t been any sort of awkward tension, at least not any more awkward than usual.
Maybe he’s run into trouble?
Her feet shuffle as she debates herself—does she stay here, wait for him to show up? Or does she take his prolonged absence as a sign to go looking—a sign that something’s wrong? If she does go looking for him and nothing’s wrong, how much of a fool will she feel like? How much of this is her overreacting based on her own experience?
She’s agonizing over the dilemma when she spots his messy head of dark curls speed around a corner, nearly knocking over a rubbish bin. She stifles a laugh and the knot in her stomach loosens at the sight of him hurrying along to her.
“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, out of breath. He must’ve run from wherever it was he went. “That shouldn’t have taken that long but—” he cuts himself off, and Lily realizes with a jolt that wherever he went, whatever he was doing, was a secret he wasn’t intending to share with her. Uncertainty winds its way around her mind, suddenly making her feel foolish for this entire day—what was she even doing here?
“Here’s your ice cream,” she says in response, a little flatter than she intended. She holds out the cone of pistachio for him to grab and his eyes find hers, wide with worry at the change in her tone.
“Lily, really, I’m so sorry. I just—” he paused, weighing his words. “I had to place an order and the cashier was just so chatty when he realized I was Fleamont Potter’s son. I thought I’d be in and out in a flash.” He carefully takes the cone from her, letting out a frustrated breath. “Happens every time I so much as even look at a cauldron.”
“A cauldron?”
James’ eyes quickly dart down to his ice cream and he shrugs, inspecting the small bits of nuts decorating the top. “I had to place an order. Some potions equipment…for my dad,” he replies.
Lily feels the tension in her shoulders melt at this confession. She’s not sure if it’s the whole truth, but he seems genuinely sorry to have upset her, so maybe she can make the leap to believe him.
“You could’ve told me,” she says softly, eyeing her own cone of toffee-flavored ice cream. “I thought…” she trails off, shaking her head and dismissing the end of her sentence. James’ eyes are on her, though, and his face grows horrified.
“You thought I was trying to ditch you?”
Lily shrugs again, raising her head to look at him, a small divot between her brows. “I wasn’t sure what was going on. It didn’t seem like something you’d do. And then I started worrying you’d gotten hurt, caught up in a brawl somewhere…”
“A brawl?” The corners of James’ lips twitch.
“I don’t know!” She cries defensively. “I certainly didn’t think you were running potions errands for your father, not after giving me such a hard time about wanting to look at scales.”
“That’s why I couldn’t very well tell you where I was going,” James shoots back, fighting a laugh. “I knew you’d take the absolute mickey out of me after I gave you such grief about buying school supplies and turned around and did that exact thing.”
Lily stares at him for a beat, contemplating.
“Well you’re absolutely right.” An exasperated smile pulls at her lips and she rolls her eyes. “I’m calling your bluff here and now—you didn’t buy anything for your dad.” He fidgets with his ice cream cone as she continues. “I bet when we show up for N.E.W.T. level Potions next year, you’ll be sporting a brand new cauldron.”
“Wait, what’s wrong with the one I have now?”
She arches an eyebrow. “You burned a hole in it last year brewing doxycide.”
“The doxycide,” James whispers under his breath, realization dawning on him. A grimace settles in on his features. “Shit.”
Lily tosses her head back and laughs. Doubts now set aside, she feels herself ease under his warm gaze. In an effort to cool the heat that’s prickling the back of her neck, she averts her eyes and takes a lick of her ice cream.
She sees James shift from the corner of her eye accompanied with the clearing of his throat. When she looks at him again, there’s an air of nervousness around him, as if he’s debating the next words to come out of his mouth.
“At the risk of sounding too bold,” a hesitant smile plays at his lips, and he shrugs, eyeing her ice cream. “You did say I could try it.”
Her heart, concerningly, skips a beat as her eyes dart from his down to the ice cream in her hands. She did say that, somewhere between the bookstore and the chips and the scales and the pet shop. And it’s not that she minds sharing—quite the opposite. The thought actually makes her skin tingle. Wordlessly, she holds her cone out to him, dragging her eyes away so as to not stare as he tries.
“Not bad,” he decides. “Can’t say that it beats my go-to.” At this he gestures with his ice cream.
“May I?” Lily asks, surprising herself. Her heart pounds as James’ eyebrows shoot up in surprise.
“You’ve never had pistachio?”
“No, I have.” The heat is rising to her face and she’s sure it’s matching the color of her hair at this point. “But it only seems fair. Tit for tat, and all of that.”
A grin lights up his face and James lets out a bark of laughter, holding his ice cream out to her. “Well with a poetic argument like that, how can I refuse?”
Debts settled, the two find a table nearby and sit, watching the foot traffic passing by them. After a while, Lily checks her watch and sighs.
“I should be going soon.” Her voice is apologetic. She genuinely doesn’t want the day to end. She’s laughed harder today than she has all summer—it’s been such a nice distraction from her sister, the wedding, the brewing war. Looking up from her ice cream, she finds James looking rather disappointed.
“Oh…do you have to?”
Silence settles between them and something faint flutters deep within.
“I should,” and then a pause. “I don’t want to, though.”
She sees a spark of something return to him as he straightens up, eyes still boring into hers with an intensity she’s not seen before.
“What do you want?”
She sucks in a breath, making sure her jaw is shut tight at such a loaded question so as not to blurt out the first thought to her mind (“You!” ). She fights with every fiber of her being to keep her eyes from flickering to his lips and fails for the quickest of seconds.
“What I want,” she starts carefully, “is to enjoy my last summer before graduation.” She eases the tension on her jaw, the slightest whisper of a smile on her face. “And I’ve been doing that today, with you.”
The boy across from her smiles, his hand jumping to his hair as his eyes look away. Lily feels a swooping sensation in her stomach at the picture: James Potter is bashful . Something like confidence possesses her and she opens her mouth to continue, only to be stopped short.
“Well I’m sure anything is better than spending the day at your sister’s beck and call.”
“James Potter, is that humility?”
“Hey! It’s been known to happen!”
Lily can’t keep the smile off her face as she looks at him, feels the butterflies in her stomach, and pushes forward. “And if I’m looking at what I want,” her eyes flicker down to her hands briefly before finding his again, “I’d like to keep today going. I don’t want to leave. Not yet.”
The grin on his face is so genuine, so big, that it must surely hurt. From behind his specs, his eyes are locked on hers, deep and rich and sparkling. She wants to always be looked at like this, by him, she realizes somewhere deep within.
The air feels like it’s been sucked out of her lungs and she shies away from his gaze, afraid to stare so long at something so brilliant. Her attention is caught by a flyer hastily charmed to the wall next to their table. On it, ropes and ribbons of fire dance mesmerizingly around a man creating yet another flame from the tip of his wand.
FIRE SHOW
SUNDAYS AT DUSK BY THE HOPPING POT
FREE TO THE PUBLIC
Her eyes still on the flyer, she can hear the mischievous smile on James’ face in his voice. “Care for a show, Evans?”
.::.::.::.
By the time they’ve finished their ice cream and made it to the clearing by The Hopping Pot, a healthy crowd has already gathered around a man on a makeshift stage. They manage to find a spot off to the side that still has a good vantage point.
The wizard on display doesn’t speak, but as he starts his show it’s apparent why: he needs every ounce of focus as he controls and contorts his several ropes of fire.
Starting slowly, he magicks a long stream of orange flames from the tip of his wand, using it as an extension of his arm as he swings it around with ferocity and precision, hitting the cobblestone ground below him with a crack! and a flash of searing light as the orange rope severs itself from the wand and continues to wind its way above the crowd in an alarmingly fast and complicated manner.
The proximity to the flames, plus the new strand of blue fire making its way out of the tip of the man’s wand cause some excited murmurs in the crowd. The wizard performs a similar dance with the new ribbon of fire, but instead of whipping the ground, spins the blue stream into a funnel above his head, where it detaches and surfs above the crowd.
Lily gasps as the blue fire passes over them—what she expected to be hot proved to be chilly as ice. She snapped her head to look at James, exhilaration coursing through her at the pageantry of it all. She meets his stare—which had, it seemed—already been on her, and she feels her excitement mirrored.
Back on the makeshift stage, the wizard is conjuring another ribbon of fire—this one purple. Lily’s mind races through the spells and charms in her repertoire to try and figure out exactly what type of spells this man is casting, and comes up at a loss.
“It’s got to be a modification of something,” she mutters to herself, eyes still captured by the writhing flames. Her attention briefly flickering to the wizard onstage, she feels an excitement, a fondness swell within her. This was not harmful magic. This wasn’t magic for practical use or for war. This was magic for delight. The magic of imagination, of her pre-Hogwarts days.
“What’s got you so smiley?” James asks, leaning in to better be heard. She turns her attention to him excitedly and words begin tumbling from her mouth before she can stop them.
“This is…incredible,” she starts, feeling a warmth in her chest as she looks up at the boy who had spent the day with her and helped her enjoy some semblance of normalcy in such an odd and uncertain time. Her eyes flicker between James and the show as she continues. “You don’t see magic like this often, do you? Magic for magic’s sake? Everything we learn is so practical, so regimented. So violent. But this? This is…immense talent and passion, to modify a spell in so many ways. But it’s also kindness, it’s joy, it’s light, it’s—”
She doesn’t get to finish what else it is, because all of a sudden James’ lips are on hers, his hand pressed into the small of her back. She’s caught off-guard for the smallest fraction of a second but responds instantly, bringing a hand to his cheek, her lips moving in tandem with his. The warmth in her chest spreads throughout and she feels cocooned in this feeling. Feels cocooned in passion and light and joy.
Another crack! and a bright flash of purple light startles the two of them apart, their eyes glued to one another. James takes a step back, distress washing over him.
“Lily, I’m so sorry, I should’ve—”
She’s shaking her head, unable to tamper down the smile that she feels reaching from ear to ear. She closes the gap between them, placing a reassuring hand on his chest. “Don’t apologize, it’s okay.” She sees his breathing stop, his worried features smoothing out.
“It is?”
“Yeah.”
After a few seconds of staring into each others’ eyes, another whip of light forces their attention away. They avert their attention back to the show in front of them, overwhelmed by the matching blush that colors both of their cheeks. Streams of blue and purple fire reflecting in her eyes, Lily holds her breath as she feels James’ fingers gently skate over the inside of her wrist, as if asking permission to take the leap. She twitches her fingers in response, and before long feels the warmth of his palm on hers, calloused fingers intertwining with her own. An exhale whooshes from her lips and she sees from the corner of her vision James look at her, a soft, dumbstruck smile playing on his lips.
She doesn’t look at him for the remainder of the show, too focused on slowing the rapid beating of her heart. She holds on firmly, however, unwilling to let this go—whatever this is—if even just for the half hour they stand immersed in the crowd, invisible to all.
The show ends and the crowd begins to disperse, the darkness having taken over Diagon Alley broken up only by the flickering oil lamps lining the street. Beside her, James is tense in his stance, fidgeting as he releases her hand and turns to face her. Nervousness is etched on every centimeter of his face and her stomach drops.
“Okay so…don’t get mad.”
He’s making a conscious effort to avoid her eyes. The hand that had only seconds before been laced securely in hers is now tugging at the curls on top of his head as he struggles to find words.
Any day before this, Lily would have found herself ready to soften the blow of ‘It was a mistake, Evans’ or ‘I just got caught up—I think we’re better as friends’. But as she waits for him to speak, she finds herself bracing for something else entirely. ‘I really like you but I’m in trouble with the law and have to go into hiding’ or ‘I want to make this work but how do you feel about long-distance because I’m moving to America’. She’s enjoyed herself so immensely today, knows that he has as well, and is confident that there’s no mistaking what had happened between them. The spark had finally caught flame.
“I wasn’t running errands for my dad earlier.”
Lily blinks, not prepared for this turn in the conversation. Her brow crinkles and she gives a curious smile. “I know that. You’re actually quite a terrible liar.”
“First of all, I resent that. Second of all…you should be receiving a package by owl in the next three days.” He pauses, eyes darting to her. “From Wiseaceres.”
As realization dawns on her, she sees James cringe as her eyes widen in disbelief. “No,” she draws out, hoping he’ll jump in and contradict her. Instead, he shrugs, bashful. “James Potter, you did not double back and go to Wisearces after I explicitly told you not to!”
“To be fair,” James points out, “you said if I set one foot inside that shop, you’d leave.”
She narrows her eyes at him, knowing exactly what the next words out of his mouth will be.
“I used both feet to walk inside so technically…”
“You’re such a prat!” Lily groans, rubbing her face with her hands. Feeling a little more sobered up after the initial shock, she folds her arms and stares him down. “Well, thank you, but I can’t accept them.”
“But you wanted them.”
“Of course I wanted them, but—”
“So you should have them.”
She stares at him in silence for a second, struck by how simple the world must seem to him. “They’re too expensive, James. I can’t—you can’t just buy them for me. It’s too much.”
“Would it help to consider them a gift? A ‘Congratulations on making Head Girl’ gift?”
She shakes her head again, frowning. “It’s too generous. And besides, letters haven’t gone out yet. We don’t know who’s getting Head Girl.”
“You’re Head Girl, Lily.” He states it as if it’s fact, stepping in closer and picking up her hand. “There’s no competition.”
Lily’s protest dies in her throat. They stand there in companionable silence, both their gazes locked onto their intertwining fingers, breaths hitching at the newness and thrillingness of it all. It’s James who breaks the silence, his voice quieter.
“Look, I’ll return them if it really makes you uncomfortable.” His thumb is stroking her knuckles, reverently and reassuringly. “But I see you in Potions using your brass scales and having to measure the ingredients three times for accuracy. Especially with that Slughorn work-study, you’re going to need these.”
She drops her eyes from their hands to the stone street beneath them. She knows everything he says is true—she’s been increasingly and increasingly frustrated by the inefficiency of her potioneering due to her current equipment. She never realized he had noticed as well.
It was like the lemon drizzle all over again. He watches and he sees and he cares and she wants nothing more than to feel like she matters this much to this boy.
Filling her lungs with something like courage, she looks up at him to find his hazel eyes searching hers for some sort of sign of anger or indecision. Raising up on her toes, she gently presses her lips to his. They only meet for a moment, but already Lily knows she won’t sleep tonight, her pulse sending electric shockwaves through her entire being.
Rocking back onto her heels she looks up at a very stunned, very chuffed James Potter. “Thank you,” she says quietly, a little embarrassed. “For the scales,” she quickly adds, color rushing to her face.
James grins down and tugs her into his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head. “It was quite literally my pleasure. Just, make sure to send me a gift basket or something when you’re head of the Department of Potion Development and Regulation.”
Lily laughs into his chest, breathing in the scent of cedarwood and summer days that lingers there. She pulls back and looks at him, eyebrow raised. “And will you be requiring pistachio ice cream in that basket?”
He chuckles and tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear. Under the softness of his gaze, she feels for the first time what it’s like to be adored. “Oh, at least four pints of it.”
At a loss for words but unable to smile anymore for fear of irreversible muscle pain to her face, she does the only thing she can think of, and kisses him again. In this moment—once again enveloped in James’ arms—Petunia, the war, any responsibilities vanish in her mind. All that matters is how she feels, and what she wants.
And what she wants is finally what she has.