Seven years into their relationship, James Potter and Lily Evans are at a crossroads. What had once seemed fated and gold-plated is now under immense pressure. The question is: are they something worth fighting for?
Did I write another thing? Yes, I did.
Is it complete yet? No, it’s not, but it will be soon.
How would I describe it? It broke my heart to write it.
The idea for this Jily fic came to me after posting the third chapter of Knocked Up By My Ex. I had no intention of writing it or posting it until after I finished the fourth chapter of KUBME, but I found myself typing it out and then suddenly I had finished two chapters.
Consider this a peace offering, because I won’t be able to update Knocked Up By My Ex until Wednesday 4 May, since I’ll be flying to Stockholm with two of my best friends tomorrow.
Take care, sweethearts! I will probably still be on Tumblr and I will still write over the next few days, but I’m leaving my main writing device - my laptop - at home for once.
I just updated this one. Chapter 3 is up. I had hoped to update the full story, but I got sidetracked and wrote too much of KUBME these past few days instead.
I promise the final chapter will be up soon, though!
Thank you for reading this story and the support I’ve received so far.
Summary: Sleekeazy’s warns of “unique results for gingers.” There’s a chance Lily didn’t read the label.
She massages the potion in slowly, fingers working in goosebump-inducing figure-eights against her scalp, just like how Annabeth from Ravenclaw had recommended.
Her fingers starts to freeze up after about a minute, so she straightens, reaches to flip her hair over one shoulder, and —
Screams. She screams.
“Oh my god,” says Mary, agape at the other sink. Her mouth works uselessly for a few more seconds as she points, shakily and seemingly unconsciously, at Lily’s reflection. The gesture, as Lily would later recall, looks straight from the mind of Edvard Munch, and it’d be the most comical thing in the room, if not for… well.
Prompt: “we make eye contact before both trying to steal the last seat on the bus/train and i end up in your lap and fuck you, I’m going to stay here because I’ve had a really long day and this seat was rightfully mine”
There are two rituals Lily held sacred to her heart; they were processes that Lily thoroughly enjoyed and neededto unwind her day. As a chronic overachiever, Lily had packed her uni days to the brim with classes, clubs, and jobs, which led to a lot of stress. So, she found solace in her rituals. They felt like luxuries to her.
The first ritual was to walk to the coffee shop and get the strongest cup of tea they served on the menu, piping hot and sickeningly sweet. Lily swore the second she took a sip, half of the day’s worries and stresses melted as the tea burned her tongue.
The second ritual was her bus ride. Her packed schedule had somehow miraculously worked out that Lily wouldn’t need to commute at the busiest times. Sure, there were still a lot of people, but there was always a seat available for her to sit in and wait until the last stop. She’d tap in, her headphones already playing an audiobook or her relaxation playlist, and sit down. She could sip her tea, stare out the window, and take these forty-five minutes to pretend that everything was fine and her life was put together.
Hey everyone~ I’m not on the Jily Discord but I’ve read everything on Tumblr as it appears on my dash, and I just want anyone who’s been hurt by it to know I hear you and I support you I’ve never had plans to write DE James and I never will because that’s not who he is to me. My stance on the Death Eaters is clear in my writing; I refuse to romanticize, validate or support their beliefs through my depictions of the characters or plots.
On that note, I do have a fic where Sirius is a Death Eater though it’s revealed he’s actually a spy; he subtly helps James when he came and flees to the Order when he’s exposed. He’s still Sirius, firm in his beliefs of right and wrong and with a good heart.
I’ve never been good at tags, and the ones on that fic are kinda sparse, but I do have ‘death eater Sirius’. I understand why someone would turn away from that so, what can I add to the tags to protect anyone who might not want to see/read it in their searches?
James is a wizard; Lily is a muggle. Magical folks don’t meet muggles, not on purpose. And yet, even with the war on the rise, they impossibly become pen pals.
-
Lily could hear James’ teeth clattering over the phone.
This was the weekly struggle she had; talking to James knowing that he stood in an uncomfortable ice box while she sat in warmth and comfort in her living room. Currently, a thick wooly blanket that had been in her family since before she was born was bunched over her lap. A steamy mug of hot cocoa sat on the table in front of her, the sight of which Lily tried her best to ignore because it felt rude to even have as James swore his way into believing he was fine.
His whispered swears, of “Merlin’s balls, it’s cold…” and “fuck, fuck, what’s a nose?” made her want to smile in amusement but he sounded more than a little miserable.
“James,” she said, trying to sound practical rather than guilty. “If it’s too cold…”
“What? Nah, I’m fine.” Something rustled, banged— he cursed his elbow and the glass door now— then he muttered something she couldn’t make out. He let out a sound of relief a moment later and then something else rustled like a long sigh and he said, “much better.”
James is a wizard; Lily is a muggle. Magical folks don’t meet muggles, not on purpose. And yet, even with the war on the rise, they impossibly become pen pals.
-
Lily could hear James’ teeth clattering over the phone.
This was the weekly struggle she had; talking to James knowing that he stood in an uncomfortable ice box while she sat in warmth and comfort in her living room. Currently, a thick wooly blanket that had been in her family since before she was born was bunched over her lap. A steamy mug of hot cocoa sat on the table in front of her, the sight of which Lily tried her best to ignore because it felt rude to even have as James swore his way into believing he was fine.
His whispered swears, of “Merlin’s balls, it’s cold…” and “fuck, fuck, what’s a nose?” made her want to smile in amusement but he sounded more than a little miserable.
“James,” she said, trying to sound practical rather than guilty. “If it’s too cold…”
“What? Nah, I’m fine.” Something rustled, banged— he cursed his elbow and the glass door now— then he muttered something she couldn’t make out. He let out a sound of relief a moment later and then something else rustled like a long sigh and he said, “much better.”
summary: being a muggleborn dating Regulus meant you had to keep it a secret. When your older sister finds out she raises fear of heartbreak in both of you
♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~
You and your sisters had been born jealous. Petunia turned to envy first as the attention that had been solely given to her was split between two other daughters. She had always been bitter towards you and Lily, never forgiving you for interpreting her perfect young life. She had taken your things, broken your toys and ripped your clothes trying to punish you for being born and turning her from an only child to the eldest.
Lily was next when she realised she wasn’t the only one who could sprout fire from her fingertips. She had accused you of faking your magic for years, doing everything she could to best you even if she never fully understood her powers herself. Luckily she outgrew this jealous fit and by the time you shared a cabin on your way to Hogwarts she was beaming ear to ear.
It was you who was last to realise what the burn in your chest really meant. The feeling came heavy like thick rain drops as you watched your sister fall so effortlessly in love. Each time she gave James a quick hug or leaned onto his shoulder your eyes narrowed, fury irrationally rising in your throat.
This wasn’t because you wished James was yours instead. In fact you had considered him an idiot since you met him and would have rather drown yourself than date the loud mouth fool. You were instead jealous of the simplicity of their relationship. Envious of how they could be carefree, how they could dream of picket fences and happy futures. You hated that they could still be stupid kids. How they were given the freedom to make out in hallways and sneak into eachothers dorms with their worst consequence being a slap on the wrist and week of detention. Nothing hurt more than watching your sister live a simple life you knew you never could.
You stared across the room locking eyes with Regulus for only a brief moment before his darted away. Charms was dreadfully boring, the lecture practically putting you to sleep, you knew you should have been paying attention, but watching the younger Black perform the spell with ease was far more interesting. The flick of his wrist was an addicting, dull look in his eyes far more attractive than it should have been. He had woken up late that morning, his hair messier than usual. You thought it looked adorable, the way a few strands drooped in front of his lashes. He only got cuter as he blew them from his face with a pout.
“You have a staring problem.” Levi muttered from beside you.
You rolled your eyes, “Do you ever mind your own business?”
“Please, you make your thing for Black everyone’s business.” He muttered and you kicked him under the desk.
Cussing at you he glared, leaning down to massage his bruising shin.
You wondered briefly how he would have reacted to the reveal of your relationship with your “hopeless crush” as he liked to call it. The surprise on his face would have been sweet as honey.
Regulus was watching you now as you continued to talk to your desk mate, he had never liked the boy, call it jealousy or anger, something bitter always rose in his throat when he saw you with him. Maybe it was because he knew your life would be so much easier if you had loved him instead.
“I don’t get what you see in him anyway.” Levi said, looking across at Regulus whose eyes had quickly retreated back to his parchment.
You grew brittle at the statement.
“I mean I know he’s attractive but if it’s really about looks why not go for his brother?” He grumbled.
You scoffed, “Please, Sirius is a piece of work.”
“And he isn’t? I’m surprised he hasn’t called you a slur yet.”
Rage bubbled in your stomach, your chest feeling hot, “Shut up.”
Levi was either oblivious to the anger set in your tone or unbothered by it “I mean really y/n, you have a crush on a purist? It’s sickening.”
You screwed your eyes shut in an attempt to stop the hot tears building behind them. You wanted to scream at him, slap him across the face and shout how Regulus would never do such a thing. You wanted to tell him how wrong he was, make him regret ever speaking such cold words. But instead you looked away, wiping your tears as they came while your boyfriend sat across the room pretending you didn’t exist.
You were used to it, you knew as a muggleborn dating a pureblood from a family like his would never be easy but the words still stung. That night you sobbed into Regulus’s chest as he held you in your usual hidden courtyard.
As your tears soaked through his sweater he felt nothing but the cold grip of guilt. He had never meant to fall in love. He had known it was a mistake the second it had happened. Even now he knew he had been wrong and stupid and naive to let himself feel so deeply for someone he could never truly be with. He would never forgive himself for forcing you into the hellish life he lived with a simple confession. He hated himself every day for it, he didn’t deserve to indulge in his emotions knowing it would cause you nothing but pain. He didn’t deserve you and he had known that from the start.
Yet every night you met, kissing under the pale moon until your lips grew numb. Everynight he found himself falling deeper and deeper into you until you filled his dreams and nightmares alike. So he forced you closer to him, knowing he would cause nothing but hurt. And you were so childishly in love you let him.
Later as you lay asleep on his chest, legs tangled beneath a blanket he let his own tears go, silent apologies dripping down his cheek as he tightened his grip on your waist.
Lily watched you from where she sat at her table, green eyes narrowed as she tried to read your mind across the dining hall.
“Something is definitely off.” She mumbled turning to James who stared at her with a dopey grin. “You haven’t been listening to a word I said have you?”
“How can I when you’re so beautiful?” He murmured back and she scoffed, face darkening.
Sirius gagged, “You guys are disgusting.”
“Christ Black, how old are you?” Lily spoke with the roll of her eyes.
He scrunched his nose and pretended to mock her silently only earning a sigh from Remus who sat beside him.
“Something is wrong with y/n, I can just feel it.” Lily continued content on ignoring Sirius.
“Maybe she’s dating that Callahan kid.” James offered. “There’s been tons of rumors.”
Lily scoffed, “Please, she has told me multiple times she has absolutely no interest in him.”
“A few months ago you were telling her you had absolutely no interest in James.” Remus offered not to look up from his book.
Lily sputtered blushing heavily again, “That is completely different.”
“Sure it is.” Remus drawled, eyes peering over the cover at her.
Lily furrowed her brow, “But why wouldn’t she tell me? I mean I thought we’ve always been close.”
“Maybe it’s not that serious.” Sirius shrugged, “Maybe they’re just fuck buddies or something.”
Lily pulled back in disgust, “Don’t talk about my little sister like that!” she hissed as Remus kicked him under the table.
“What? She’s almost 17! It’s not like she’s 12 or something, Godric.” Sirius complained and James threw a spoon at him.
“You know if you’re really that curious we could always just check the map.” James said looking over at Lily who was trying to set Sirius on fire with her glare.
She considered it for a moment, “Isn’t that kind of..” she paused “intrusive?”
He shrugged, “She’s your little sister.”
The sky was dark that night as you met with Regulus. The moon was new leaving only the blinking stars to light the ground beneath you.
You grinned when you saw Regulus leaning against the small statue in the middle of the courtyard. You quickened your pace pulling him into a brief kiss as you met.
“Hi.” You whispered against his lips and you felt him smile.
“Hi.” He responded, hands on your waist pulling you closer once again.
You tasted sweet like the nectar of the gods, soft and tender in his arms. Your hair smelt of pomegranate, your flowery perfume engulfing him. There was nothing more addicting on this world than your lips.
You both pulled away breathless and grinning stupidly, “Your hair looks so cute like this.” You mumbled running your hands through it and tugging lightly on a curly lock that had fallen down his forehead.
Regulus practically purred, melting into your touch. He dipped his head low to hide his blush, lips skimming the skin of your neck.
You giggled as he mumbled a bashful thank you before nipping slightly below your ear. He was always careful to never leave marks that could be seen the following day. You wished he wasn’t.
You felt his hands on the back of your thighs lifting you off the ground. You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your nose in his hair as he walked until your back hit the wall of the castle. You scratched your nails lightly against his scalp and Regulus groaned. You gasped at the feeling of his tongue on your jaw as he pressed you further into the stone. Your legs now wrapped around his waist as he left sloppy kisses on your collar bone.
It was then you heard the shuffle of footsteps.
“Regulus.” You whispered and he broke away to look up at you, his lips red and glossy , “I heard someone.”
He slowly lowered you to your feet, “You sure?”
You nodded and you both stood silently, ears craning for another sign of life among you. After a minute you sighed, “Sorry, I must have been hearing things.”
Regulus just shook his head grinning lightly, “ ‘s fine babe.” words slurring, intoxicated by your taste.
Your lips reconnected, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as you began to work on the buttons of his shirt, tugging on his tie to loosen its knot. But there it was again the soft sound of feet, closer this time.
You both paused Regulus pulling away leaving your skin feeling cold in his absence.
“Who’s there?” He demanded into the darkness, wand lit.
There was no response and you grabbed his hand to pull him back to you. Regulus stood his ground so you leaned into him, lips ghosting against his ear.
“It’s probably just a mouse or somethin’.” You murmured hands coming back to undo the remaining buttons of his shirt.
Regulus glanced around once more before looking down at you, “You’re probably right.” he said before he began to untuck your blouse, hands sliding slowly under it.
It was that which finally broke Lily, her vision going red. She stepped from beneath the invisibility cloak ignoring James’ protests.
You let out a small yelp as your sister appeared from thin air, Regulus who had his back turned to her immediately drew his wand pushing you lightly behind him. His eyes went wide as he found himself inches from your older sister. It was your turn to pull Regulus behind you.
“Lily, What in bloody hell are you doing here?”
When James sheepishly appeared as well you gasped, “What is wrong with you both, are you stalking me?”
Lily looked stern, her arms crossed, “Why are you with him?” she seethed.
Your eyes narrowed, “None of your fucking buissnes. Now take your dog and leave.”
Regulus almost didn’t believe it was you that was talking. He wasn’t accustomed to the harsh tone you used, your anger hardly ever directed at him.
“This is most certainly my business!” She spoke shrilly.
“It is most certainly not. Now get out.” You shouted.
“How can you expect me to leave when you’re getting all touchy feely with a purist?” She hissed, grabbing at your wrist to pull you away from the boy behind you. You slapped her away so hard the sound echoed off the walls, “Call him that again around me and you’ll fucking regret it.” You growled.
Lily stepped back surprised by your sudden aggression but not backing down, “Please y/n, I’m just calling it as it. The sooner you realise that the better.”
Regulus felt his throat tighten as he listened, teeth biting into his lip as he had nowhere to look but his feet.
You stepped closer to your sister inches from her face, “Leave.” your voice struck heavy.
Lily responded just as harshly, “No.”
James shifted behind his girlfriend feeling like he was intruding on the fight which was taking place. Sensing his awkwardness you looked back at him with a searing gaze.
“Get out Potter, you have no place here.” You spat.
He was planning on shuffling away when Lily turned back to him angrily, “No James stay.”
You scoffed as he did as he was told, “Fucking pet.”
“Don’t speak to him like that.” Lily scolded.
“You’re the one who’s calling my boyfriend a purist.” You growled your mouth bitter at the taste of hypocrisy.
“Because he is one!” She bit back. “You really think he actually loves you after being raised how he was? With a mother like his?”
Regulus felt like he had been slapped, his cheek stinging as the older girl spoke.
“Don’t you dare bring up his mother.” You were shaking with rage by now, your face streaked with angry tears, “And how dare you speak ill of Regulus simply because of his upbringing as if his brother isn’t one of your closest friends. How do you think Sirius would feel hearing what you just said?”
This took Lily back a step, her rage cooling a bit as she realised her mistake, “It’s different,” She tried to recover, “He isn’t with his family anymore. Sirius has already broken away from them. He made the choice any good person would.”
Regulus felt her eyes on him as she spoke. She was no longer interested in her sister and instead focused on him. He felt like he was choking under the pressure of her stare. When he glanced up to meet her gaze he inhaled sharply. He hadn’t seen such hatred in a long time.
Your lashes were thick with tears by now, disgust and fury morphing your face, “Go fuck yourself Lily.” You spat.
She ignored you, gaze locked on Regulus, she had no intention of speaking to you anymore, “You stay away from her.” she demanded, “If you truly love her you stay away from her.”
You shouted lunging forwards and shoving your sister backwards. She stumbled back catching herself.
It was you who fell, your feet tangling, forcing you to the ground. You hit hard, hands and knees scraping against stones and moss which made up the floor. You couldn’t find it in you to stand up simply letting exhaustion and misery take you where you lay. You shook with sobs, voice cracked and raw. Lily immediately dropped beside you, hands circling your neck as she drew you into a hug. You fought her as you always did but she held on, letting you beat her chest with your fists until you stilled.
Regulus took a step forward but was stopped by your sister whose glare told him everything he needed to know. Tears pricking his own eyes he stumbled past the two of you and disappeared into the darkness of the dungeons. He didn’t hear James shout for him over the sound of the ring in his ears. He wasn’t sure where he ended up, somewhere deep in the depths of the sprawling castle, dust coated the staircase he collapsed onto. Only there did he let himself cry, choking sobs rubbing his throat raw as he looked for someone to blame. His mother for forcing him into the terrifying world of dark magic? His brother for abandoning him in his abusive home? Or your sister for pointing out the truth he prayed you would never see? Regulus wished he could pass the blame off to anyone but he wasn’t stupid, he knew he had no one to hate but himself.
Regulus disappeared entirely for three days. Three days you spent desperately avoiding your sister who seemed just as adamant to talk to you again. You skipped meals opting for hunger instead risking meeting her in the hall. She would show up outside your classes forcing you to scramble out the back way or sprint away like a child running from punishment.
On the fourth day of your boyfriend’s absence you felt yourself beginning to panic. Fear of him never returning, filling your head with irrational thoughts. It wasn’t like you could ask around for him, your relationship needed to remain secret despite the difficulties you were facing. It was then Lily cornered you.
You stared at the redhead as she blocked your only exit. “Lily, move.” You sighed exhausted by the past few days, sleepless nights not improving your condition.
She didn’t listen, “Y/n we need to talk.”
“About what?” You scoffed, “I have nothing to say to you.”
“I just want you to understand why I,” She paused, “Why I said what I did.”
“I don’t care why you said it Lily.” You said, “I don’t care if you think you were protecting me or saving me from some hopeless relationship. I honestly don’t care.”
Her eyes swelled, “How can you say that? How can you not care? I love you y/n I just want you to be safe.”
You stared at her, “I just don’t understand why you couldn’t just let me be happy.”
“He’s dangerous.”
You shook your head, “No, his family is dangerous. His situation is dangerous. He’s not.”
“Y/n please.” She begged, for what you did not know.
“Just stay out of my shit Lily.” you mumbled pushing past her and back into the hallway.
You spent the night where you always had, the small courtyard hidden between two towers of the castle, a statue of a woman draped in vines and flowers at its center. The moon was a small sliver, a dusting of clouds blocking the stars from your view. The shuffle of footsteps brought your eyes from the ground.
There stood Regulus, his face shining in the pale light. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, nose pointed at the floor as he refused to meet your gaze.
You stood quickly throwing your hands around his neck. He leaned into your touch burying his head into your shoulder as his hands found your waist.
You smelled delightful as always, your lips soft against his cheek and hands in his hair. Regulus hadn’t realized he was crying until you began to comfort him. Sweet words whispered into his ear as you only held him tighter.
“She’s right, you know.” He croaked, lifting his head to look at you. “You shouldn’t be around me.”
You shook your head feverishly, “You’re wrong Reggy.”
“I don’t deserve you y/n, I don’t deserve to be with you.” He sobbed, “I could never deserve you.”
“You’re right, love.” You mumbled, smiling through the tears that coated your cheeks, “You deserve so much better.”
Written for the @bite-me-delight-me-hp-fest and revealed today! Genie!James grants all of Lily’s wishes… until he can’t.
It took 900 years, but James finally found his one true love.
She was young—exceptionally young, really, in comparison to James. He met her on the eve of her twenty-first birthday. She caught his attention because her hair caught the sunlight, and it looked like she was dancing with a crown of fire. He asked her to dance, and he got lost in the cool green of her eyes, fell for the soft rosy pink of her lips. The sound of her voice was as fragrant as the flower that she was named for, and she laughed when he said that to her.
“So posh,” she said. “Bet you use your pretty words on all the girls.
In 900 years of searching, he had never found someone who made him feel even a fraction of what he felt for her.
Happy Pride Month! I’ve been working on this fic for about nine months, and I’m so excited to share it with you. I wrote this for the Marauders Pride Zine, which has a theme of trans characters and headcanons this year. The zine can be purchased here, and proceeds go to the Stonewall Housing Charitable Foundation. There’s a ton of lovely art and several fics included this year, so please consider making a donation and getting a copy!
TW: This is a transition story, so the fic and summary refer to pre-transition character’s dead name and pronouns prior to transition. Please take care of yourself before reading.
Liam Evans has never felt like he fit in. When he discovers he is a wizard, he hopes that this is finally the thing that he was always missing. However, when his first year at Hogwarts leaves him feeling unfulfilled, Liam Lily discovers that she might have so much more going on inside of her than she ever expected.
Hi, so I wrote a short nsfw jily piece I’d meant to post for James’s birthday as a one-shot…
…but now it’s just a drabble ♀️
Anyway, 18+ below the cut!
sour like sweet
She sighed something heavy, eyelids weighed down by the assault of the overhead sun and the feeling of his hair, slipping like water between her fingers; his mouth, slow and lethal between her thighs. The sour tang of the orange she’d been eating earlier grew sharp on her tongue with her next hot inhale.
The fruit peel still sat somewhere to her right, discarded innocently on the grass and forgotten entirely, much like the copy of Intricate Transfigurations for the Advanced MindthatJames had brought out to their backyard for a bit of light reading. She’d teased him mercilessly for being a swot even now, outside of Hogwarts’s imposing walls, and—perhaps more importantly—years after already having mastered what was probably the mostadvanced piece of transfiguration-related magic there was.
He’d peeled his eyes away from the text, head tilting back on her lap to look at her orange-coated fingers upside-down. A familiar smirk over his lips, and her insides unfailingly became a mess.
“Did you have some other activity in mind for this fine Sunday morning, then?”
“I mean…” She’d curled a hand around his jaw, sticky fingers and all, and bent forward to lazily slide her mouth over his. “It is your birthday, isn’t it?”
He’d groaned lightly into the kiss, the golden band on his finger catching the burst of sunlight splayed over them, reflecting back the brightness for a flash, before the hand had reached behind to bury into her hair, pull her closer against him.
And that’s how they’d ended up here: Lily on her back with the blue, bluesky stretching above while the ground below tilted and swayed with the slight, involuntary movements of her hips. James’s thumbs swiped gentle arcs along the crease of her thighs, her pink summer dress falling like ripples along his wrists as he swirled his tongue over her clit. Again. And again.
“James,” she moaned, unbearably warm, grass prickling at over-sensitive skin against the back of her neck.
He lifted his head for a beat, eyes honey-sweet and open, glasses tossed aside several slow, time-lost moments ago. “Everything okay up there?”
She huffed, played with the strands along his hairline, watched the sweat beading over his lip and brows with gasping impatience. “Don’t fucking stop, my god—”
A finger brushed brazenly up her center, cutting off words and breath and sense in one fell swoop.
“Hm, okay it is,” replied her smug bastard of a husband, placing a teasing nip against her thigh before returning his mouth to her once more.
For my dearest, HazzaP, on your birthday. Thank you for being my friend, confidant, sounding board, fellow horse riding enthusiast. You are a joy to have in my life. You gave me hand gifs as prompts, and I did my best to give you fluff (seeing I keep making you cry with my angst) xx
That first time, it was just a brush, really.
The back of his hand, against hers.
She knew, probably in greater detail than she should, that the palm of James’ hand was covered in calluses, his left more than his right, preferencing his throwing arm. But the back of his hand, that was silky smooth.
It sent sparks through her, a sharp burst of heat across every millimetre where they connected. That tingle, that fire, it travelled like a bolt of lightning, a one way ticket, directly into her chest.
It made her stand taller, straightening her spine as they remained shoulder to shoulder, a united front, an imposing, unlikely yet unrelenting force. Something she’d never thought possible, yet it had happened so organically, so quickly, Lily had never bothered to question the improbability. She had just accepted it.
Much like she accepted the confidence, the comfort, the reassurance his touch gave her now. It made it all the easier to face the Slytherins, seventh years like themselves, who thought along with being Merlin’s gift to the wizarding world, also took the position that the rules didn’t apply to them. It gave her the courage to hold her chin high, her wand higher, and stick to the strength of her convictions.
It was only a small thing, that gentle yet purposeful touch.
“Honestly, Evans, you need to be taller. We’re going to lose you in this crush.”
Lily turned, finding the speaker of the mocking words so close behind her she almost ran into him, a quick hand to his chest preventing the collison. “Excuse you, my height is perfectly adequate, thank you very much.”
James grinned, a smile that was so much better than the smirk he’d worn when they were younger. “Nothing, absolutely nothing about you could be described as adequate, Evans.”
She fought the urge to blush, to lower her eyes. He said that type of thing so easily, yet so sincerely. It was all a bit much sometimes.
Most of the time.
“Regardless,” she chose the path of avoidance, refusing to acknowledge the quirk that turned his lips back towards his old teasing expression, “my height is not the problem here.” Her arm swept back, encompassing the heaving crowd that was the area in front of the Three Broomsticks bar at lunch time on the last Hogsmeade Saturday before Christmas. “It’s this madness.”
James looked briefly away, taking in the muddle of students, regular patrons and tourists come to enjoy the splendour of the picturesque wizarding village in full festive spirit. “That is definitely accurate.”
“I’ve made no headway into the crowd,” she complained. When James turned back with a raised eyebrow, her nostrils flared unconsciously. “Don’t say it’s because I’m not tall enough.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” the boy who had grown several inches practically overnight to become a man in front of her very eyes said wisely. “But how about I see if I can help?”
“Only if you let me pay this time.” Lily stepped sideways, allowing James to move past her and attempt to push and shove his way through the crowd.
He snorted as he moved forward. “As if.”
She would have retorted, would have protested, would have insisted, given he’d bought her every butterbeer Lily had had this year under falser and falser pretences, only she couldn’t.
As James came alongside her, his hand caught against hers. In the first instant she thought it was an accident, a coincidence, a mistake. But then he didn’t move away, his skin gliding along hers, that heat she’d felt a month earlier never more present than it was right then. It sent those same sparks, raising the hair along her forearm, thankfully hidden by her woollen holiday themed sweater.
His little finger caught against hers. Again, she waited for him to remove it, sure it was purposeful, intentional. Yet another moment she was wrong about. Because he didn’t let go. If anything, the curl of his finger tightened his grip on Lily’s. James tugged, gentle enough given the small surface area of their link, but strong enough that she was pulled into motion, falling into place just behind his tall frame.
They moved through the crowd effortlessly, frustratingly given the fruitless ten minutes Lily had spent before James’ arrival on the scene. His stature, his popularity, his notoriety, all of it gave him the gravitas that made him the envy of many of their peers, and was undeniably effective. It got them to the front of the crowd, where James leaned one elbow against the bar, catching the eye of Rosmerta with equally impressive ease to order their drinks, and that of their mates.
“I’ve got-” she huffed as he placed a handful of coins on the bar, ignoring her clear reach for her purse. “I was going to get these.”
“Evans,” James’ voice was teasing, light, as if she was making one of her terrible punny jokes, the likes of which he’d never quite found funny but seemed to tolerate because of his fondness for her.
Another tug on her pinky pulled her forward, bringing Lily in front of James now, his broad shoulders protecting her from the push and pull on the unruly crowd. She didn’t say anything more. James didn’t either.
But neither of them let go
******
The next move was hers.
It had to be really.
Lily Evans was a lot of things, but shy had never been one of them. And she wasn’t the type to wait around.
And he needed her. She could tell.
James needed her.
She’d watched the others try. Peter had tried distraction. Exploding Snap, Wizard’s chest, a rousing game of Basilisks and Brooms, without absolutely no engagement. Remus had tried reassurance, using reason and truth to remind James of all the work he had put in, all the preparation, all the training and drills and planning. He hadn’t bought it for a second. Sirius had tried mischief, of course he had, offering dungbombs, pranks and marauder-worthy shenanigans. James had shaken him off, stared into the fire in front of him, brooding.
He needed her.
How to help him, Lily had really no idea. She’d never paid attention enough in the past to notice how nervous he got before a Quidditch final, never cared enough to pay attention. She cared now. And she wanted to help now.
She needed to help him.
Every inch of James screamed tension when Lily took a seat next to him on the couch. Such was his sullen mood that no one else had dared to share the space closest to the fire with the Quidditch Captain. His hands scrubbed relentlessly at his face, his knee jerked in a statico beat, his body hunched forward, though she knew he couldn’t be cold. If his face had been visible, the lines of worry, fatigue and stress would have appeared etched across it.
For the first time in a long time, James didn’t react to her presence. He gave no sign that he knew it was her, that he knew anyone had sat next to him, but he had to know. Yet, he did nothing to acknowledge her.
Lily considered her options. Crossed off most of them pretty quickly as weak, pathetic, useless. Went with the one that felt the most appropriate, the most right.
Moving slowly, how one would move if they didn’t want to startle a deer in the forest, she reached for his face. Both hands slid along James’ arm, tracing the defined muscles, the tanned skin until she reached his wrist. Careful fingers curled around it, pulling until he finally allowed it to come free from his face and for Lily to pull it toward her. She wasted no time, bringing his hand to her lap, cradling it in both hands.
He still didn’t make a move of his own. He allowed his hand to be manipulated by her, his fingers curling slightly under the pressure of hers. Lily found herself holding her breath, wondering, doubting, fearing what his response might be.
But Gryffindor she’d been sorted, and a lion she most definitely was.
The worry was for nought. The glide of her fingers up James’ palms, her fingernails scraping, scratching gently was met with the opening of his hand. His fingers spread wide, allowing hers to intermingle and weave between them. She gripped, the pads of each digit pressing into each knuckle. Her heartbeat kicked up a notch when he returned the hold with equal attention.
As Lily kept her eyes focused on their connection, her thumb stroked back and forth in a way she hoped James found soothing. Words didn’t come, but she tried not to worry about that. Instead she paid attention to him, to every part of him, trying to be enough.
It wasn’t quick, the change, It took far longer than she would have liked. The fire burnt down in the grate, the candles melted low in their sconces, most of their housemates retired for the evening. If she hadn’t attuned herself to James, she might have missed it.
His knee, vibrating in anxiety, settled into a hum, then a march, before stilling completely. His other arm dropped, resting on his thigh, at first playing mindlessly with the crease in his trousers, but eventually coming to rest as well. And as time went on, his back unwinding, his shoulders dropping, until he leaned back into the couch, head still down but now relaxed and tranquil.
His words were quiet, when they finally came.
“Thank you.”
She didn’t reply, except for another squeeze of her hand in his.
****
It became the norm soon after.
At first it happened when there was no one around. Sitting by the fire, walking together on patrols, leading each other through corridors and crowds. Hands twisted, fingers mingling, teasing, playing, comforting. They never really talked about it, beyond looks of offer and expectation, secret smiles of pleasure and peace when the other acquiesced. It was just for them, for a while, just a bubble of comfort and progress and something that wasn’t defined, wasn’t explainable, but didn’t need to be to make her feel good.
Lily began to know his hands better than she knew his own. Each callous on each finger, the rough texture of the tips, the edges of his nails. What it felt like when he was tired, when he was worried, when he was pleased. She recognised the tremors that shook from his arm to hers when he laughed so hard it rocked his whole body. She came to know, to expect, the heat that came from him holding her, the way it flushed her body, head to toe, sent her senses singing, her spine tingling, her heart a flutter.
One day, walking with their friends to Hogsmeade in the fresh spring air, James reached for her hand. It was such a common occurrence, a frequent gesture by then, that Lily thought nothing of it. She tickled his palm before threading their hands together, smiling herself when he gave a delicious squeeze. Neither missed a step, broke a stride, and both continued on, happy in their private moment.
It was the choking sound from Sirius behind them that reminded them they were in public. The stifled gasp from Mary, the delighted laugh from Marlene. The whispers, the murmurs, the looks, the pointing from their classmates and other students who were delighting in their choice of opting to walk rather than go by carriage to the town, and spotting this brilliant piece of gossip.
Lily looked up, finding hazel eyes waiting for her, a questioning look in his eyes. He hadn’t let go, if anything, he gripped her tighter, yet not painful, more possessive, more reassuring. She let her eyebrows lift, sending her own ask, while brushing her thumb along his. Her head inclined, as if to offer the choice as his, hers already happily made.
Instead, he stepped closer, his shoulder knocking into hers, their joined hands bumping back forth between them. His head tilted, mouth coming closer to hers, his speech for her and her alone. “Alright, Evans?”
Words weren’t needed. Not for this.
Not when another clasp, another grip, another squeeze worked just the same. A simple touch, that said everything she ever needed it to say.
