Chapter Text
Lily totally had a crush on James Potter. She was willing to admit this to herself, if only to herself. She should most likely be paying more attention to the Transfiguration lecture that McGonagall was giving, but James Potter was just so...distracting. He was chewing on the end of his quill, staring out of the window. Lily knew that, despite appearances, he was almost certainly listening. He was so good at Transfiguration, he had to be. She sighed, brushing her red hair over her shoulders. Trying to re-establish her focus, she looked down at her notes.
But really, why did it have to be him? Sure, he was fit and intelligent, good at Quidditch, and the Heir to a prominent pureblood family; he was funny and quick-witted and had shown lately that he had a good heart. But was that really a reason to feel this way? She huffed. Her mother had always told her that the heart wanted what it wanted, without a thought for reason, but up until now, she’d never really believed it. Despite all her protestations and the years she’s spent scorning him, her heart had now decided that it wanted James Potter, and there was nothing she could do about that.
There was a prickling at the back of her neck, and she knew if turned around, she’d see Severus Snape watching her from his usual spot at the back of the classroom. She didn’t see much of him these days; he hadn’t dared to approach her since the beginning of sixth year. But she couldn’t avoid him in Double Transfiguration when Slytherin joined Gryffindor, and so every Wednesday, she pointedly ignored him and his staring.
Mudblood, he’d called her. Mudblood. The same term all the pureblood snobs used, the same slur the Death Eaters were reported to spit at their victims before they killed them. Some things were unforgivable. She knew that he was angry with her for being friendly with James Potter, his childhood tormentor, and she could see his point. James had been horrible, for a long time, and had been especially horrible to Severus. And yeah, James Potter was a bully. But James Potter also tutored younger students without being required to, and stuck up for members of other Houses and mediated in squabbles. James Potter comforted crying students and spoke out against blood status discrimination and planned to use his future Lordship to actually guide public policy, not just as a status symbol. James Potter had ethics, a moral compass that pointed unfailingly towards the right thing to do.
She hadn’t really understood James’ hatred for Dark magic until she’d gone to Pottershall that summer and met James’ uncle, Charlus. He was a high-ranking Auror, and the horror stories that he had, about the madness and destruction Dark magic could cause, it...well, it didn’t make sense totally, but she could see it. She could see it more. Lily set down her quill with a sigh and rubbed at her temple. Some things she could forgive; others she could not.
Sure, James could be arrogant. Sure, his moral code was inflexible and drove him to some strong reactions. But James Potter was a good man, and once she’d accepted that, it seemed inevitable that she would fall for him.
Saturday nights were meant for the girls. That’s what Marlene always said, at least, and it meant that at least once a month, Marlene, Mary, Dorcas, and Lily had an official ‘sleepover’. Up until the end of last year, Alice would come down and join them too, but even after she graduated, the dorm felt full enough with just the four of them.
“Hey, watch it!” Lily cried, attempting to knock aside the pillow Marlene had thrown at her face. She huffed, smoothing a hand over her ponytail; there wasn’t too much she could do, as she didn’t want to crack her face mask. Mary had brought a whole package of them to school with her, picked up from a muggle department store in London.
“Don’t be so sensitive,” Marlene scoffed, flicking through her copy of Witch’s Weekly. “Ooh, look at this, seven tips and tricks to catch the Keeper of your dreams.” She waggled her eyebrows at Dorcas, who smacked her thigh and giggled. “Although, if I remember, Potter’s a Chaser, isn’t he?” she asked Lily. Lily’s jaw dropped, and the mud mask cracked.
“Don’t be stupid, Marlie,” Mary laughed, not looking up from where she was painting her toenails, “Lily doesn’t need any tips on how to attract Potter.”
Lily groaned and collapsed back on the bed. She unfolded her legs from underneath her and stared at the canopy above her head. “You can say that again,” she huffed.
“I dunno,” Dorcas mused, “He hasn’t asked you out this year, has he?”
“No,” Lily mumbled, throwing an arm over her face. “He hasn’t. Not even once.”
“Wow, Lily,” Marlene said, a fox-like grin on her face, “It almost sounds like you want him to be asking you out every other week.”
Lily groaned louder, rolling off the bed with a thump and crawling over to the enchanted record player in the corner. She lifted the needle and flicked through the selection of records on Mary’s little shelf. There. A Night at the Opera . Lily grinned as she set the record down and replaced the needle. The sweet, sweet strains of Queen began to fill the room, and she turned up the volume.
“ I dreamed I saw on a moonlit stair
Spreading his hand on the multitude there
A man who cried for a love gone stale
And ice-cold hearts of charity bare”
Lily sang alone at the top of her lungs. Mary laughed and joined in, setting down her nail polish and wiggling her toes in the air. Dorcas shot up and started dancing, pulling Marlene up to join her, the two of them swinging around the room, not paying much attention to the actual beat of the song, but laughing just the same. Lily could be worried about James Potter and all his nonsense tomorrow; tonight was for her girls.
Severus Snape was watching her from across the Great Hall, and Lily didn’t like it. It wasn’t uncommon, sure, but it made her uncomfortable, the consistent staring. And it wasn’t just him, either, not today. She supposed that was what she was really worried about; Severus was joined in his staring by Avery and Mulciber, two of her least favorite people. They were, in a word, creepy.
Lily tried to shrug it off, to focus on her Darjeeling and her toast, but the unpleasant feeling lingered.
“Good morning, Evans-divine,” James greeted, dropping onto the bench across from her. He blocked her view of the Slytherin table, at least.
“Good morning to you too, James,” she muttered, taking a sip of her tea. “Where are the usual suspects?”
“Oh, nowhere special,” he said, flashing his dimples at her. Lily laughed, because there was absolutely no way he was telling the truth, and because his bedhead was ridiculous.
“Sure, James,” she said, shaking her head.
“You don’t believe me?” he tried, widening his eyes and raising his brows like that could make him look innocent. It might have, if he wasn’t still wearing a shit-eating grin. That did tend to ruin any innocent image he might’ve been trying to cultivate. Lily gave him a skeptical squint over the rim of her cup. “Okay,” he laughed, “That’s probably fair, I admit.”
Lily hummed, but before she could continue, the flurry of wings announced the arrival of the morning post. An owl landed in front of James, a copy of the Daily Prophet tied to its leg. James accepted the paper, paid the owl, and unfurled the paper with a flourish.
The headline of the Prophet announced another attack. Lily blinked. It wasn’t uncommon, these days, but it still gave her an uncomfortable twinge in her stomach, a twist of fear and disgust. A fire, set in Bristol, had killed three muggleborns the night before while she, Lily, had been studying and taking her Head rounds with James.
“It’s getting worse,” James commented, glancing up from his paper. His hazel eyes were serious, for once, the corners of his mouth pulling down.
“It is,” Lily sighed, “And there’s nothing I can do about it. I feel...helpless, I guess. I want to...to do something about it.”
“I agree,” James said, folding up the newspaper. “I can’t stand just watching this happen. There has to be something we can do, you know? I just...I can’t stand it.”
Lily nodded. She wasn’t very interested in her toast anymore. James sighed.
“Kind of killed the mood, huh?” he said, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. Lily smiled.
“A little, yeah,” she admitted. “Hey, by the way, have you had a chance to look at the revisions to the prefect duties? I know you know the Quidditch schedules better than I do, I just want them to be reasonable, you know?”
James answered and before she knew it, Lily found herself absorbed in their conversation, forgetting about the uncomfortable stares directed at her from the Slytherin table.
Lily had stayed later in the library then she had intended. It was skirting too close to curfew to be good, really; she had her reputation as Head Girl to maintain, after all, and being caught out after curfew was hardly beneficial. It was dark in the library; even Madam Pince had abandoned her usual post at the front desk. She gathered up her notes, trying to stuff them back into her bag in some semblance of order. She huffed, hurriedly screwing the lid back on her jar of ink and trying to pile her books up at the same time.
“Shit,” she cursed as a book slipped off the table and thumped to the floor. She bent down to pick it up.
“Ladies shouldn’t curse, you know.”
Lily had to press a hand over her mouth to stop her scream. She shot up, clutching the book, coming face-to-face with Mulciber and Avery. They were leering at her, wands in hand, looming over her, matching dark looks in their eyes. Lily swallowed. This was bad.
“Can’t be a lady,” Avery snorted, “She’s a filthy mudblood.” Mulciber cackled like he’d said something funny. Her wand, Lily thought frantically, where had she put her wand? It wasn’t in her pocket, she would have felt it poking her. Shit, she was so stupid. Was it in her bag?
“Well, you know what’s happening to all the dirty blood lately, don’t you?” Mulciber drawled, raising his wand to point it at Lily. “It’s getting spilled.”
“The Dark Lord will destroy the filth, he’s come to save us, to raised us up to the top where we belong,” Avery continued, a fanatical light in his dark eyes. Lily shivered. A Dark Lord? She hadn’t heard anything about an actual Dark Lord. Oh god.
Avery had raised his own wand, getting ready to cast, and Lily tensed. She’d have to run for it; there was no way she could get to her wand in time.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Lily had never been so glad to hear James Potter’s voice in all her life. He was storming towards her down the center aisle of the library, wand in hand, his eyes ablaze with rage, and relief flooded through Lily like a tidal wave.
James stepped between her and the two Slytherins, his wand held at the ready.
“Potter,” Avery spat, “We were just leaving.”
“You’d better,” James replied, his voice colder than ice, “It’s almost curfew.”
Avery and Mulciber cast Lily one last malicious look, but they did scurry out of the library, cowed by James’ reputation for duelling and his status as a pureblood. When he was sure they’d gone, James turned to her.
“Are you alright?” he murmured, checking her for injuries.
“I’m fine,” she assured him, “Just a little freaked out. I’m glad you got here when you did.”
“Me too,” James muttered. His eyes were so bright, staring at her with that fierce intensity he sometimes showed.
“Thank you,” Lily replied, unable to look away from his face. There was that trembling pressure again, that sense of a dam being overwhelmed. “You saved me,” she admitted.
“I shouldn’t have had to,” James whispered, his jaw tense. “You need to be more careful, Lily.”
“I know, I know-”
“No, you clearly don’t,” James snapped. “People like Avery and Mulciber, they’re out there killing muggleborns just for their parentage. You don’t even have your wand where you can reach it. You need to be more careful.”
Lily was at a loss for words. She had never, ever seen James upset with her; he’d never even been close. “I...I’m sorry,” she managed, unwelcome tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. James sighed.
“I didn’t mean to snap,” he apologized, “I just...I can’t see you hurt. I really can’t. So, please try to be more careful?”
Lily stared up at him, taking in the set of his jaw, the slope of his nose, his fierce hazel eyes, the untameable mop of black hair. She swallowed.
“I’ll try,” she murmured. An impulse to touch him rose in her, and she didn’t fight it. She placed her hand on his bicep, carefully, tentatively, the irrational worry that something was changing between them if she did was not enough of a reason to stop her. He closed his eyes and exhaled.
“Please,” he said, his voice edging something close to a plea. She nodded, pretending his tone didn’t make her heart stutter in her chest.
The idea of James Potter and his bright-eyed intensity in the library would not leave Lily alone. It was getting so bad that even Marlene had noticed she was distracted.
“Hey, Lils, why the long face?” Marlene asked, slinging an arm around Lily’s shoulders, despite the fact that Marlene was even shorter than Lily herself was. They were on their way to dinner, meandering down the staircases from the Charms classroom. Dorcas trailed behind them, still absorbed in the essay she’d just been handed back.
“Oh, nothing,” Lily muttered, trying to brush off her friend’s concern with a wave of her hand. But this was Marlene, so of course she would insist on pushing it.
“Sure, nothing, okay, I totally believe that,” Marlene continued, rolling her eyes. From behind them, Dorcas snorted.
“Seriously, Marlie, it isn’t a big deal,” Lily tried.
“It’s about Potter again, isn’t it?” Dorcas piped up, catching up to them and taking Marlene’s hand.
“No,” Lily huffed, but neither of her friends looked particularly convinced. “Okay, maybe,” she admitted, adjusting the strap of her bag. “Maybe it is James’ fault.”
Oh, who was she kidding? It wasn’t James’ fault, it was her own. She had finally realized that James Potter was everything she wanted in a man, just in time for him to stop asking her out. Typical.
“Ooh, what’s he done now?” Marlene asked, her blue eyes alight with mischief and the promise of good gossip.
“It’s what he hasn’t done,” Lily mumbled.
“Stars, Lily Evans,” Marlene gasped, “Are you upset that James Potter hasn’t asked you out yet this year?”
“Maybe?”
Both Marlene and Dorcas were staring at her, eyebrows raised. Marlene’s mouth dropped open and Dorcas shook her head.
“I never thought we’d see the day,” she said, “Lily Evans admitting she actually does like James Potter after all.”
“Oh my stars,” Marlene screeched, and she probably would have jumped on Lily, too, if it hadn’t been for Dorcas restraining her. “You have to ask him out!”
“What, no!” Lily cried, “And shush!” She glanced around in fear, but there didn’t seem to be anyone paying attention to them. The last thing she needed was for this to get back to James before she’d worked it all out.
“I’m not going to ask him out,” Lily grumbled, more quietly this time.
‘Why not?” Marlene asked in a whisper-shriek.
“Because he doesn’t really like me, does he? He likes the chase, that I never give in,” Lily said, but even to her own ears, that didn’t sound quite right. James really wasn’t that type.
“He’s really not that type,” Dorcas unknowingly echoed. Lily huffed.
“Do it, do it, do it,” Marlene chanted, elbowing Lily.
“Okay, fine,” Lily sighed, already exasperated by her blonde friend’s antics. “I’ll consider it.”
Marlene looked like she wanted to say more, but Dorcas put a hand on top of her head, and she shut her mouth.
They had made it to the Great Hall, but as they passed over the threshold, Lily felt a strange tug, a shift in the air around her, for just a moment, before it settled like nothing had ever been wrong. She frowned, glancing at Marlene and Dorcas, but they didn’t seem to have noticed anything. Lily shrugged; it was probably nothing.
She joined the Gryffindor table, Marlene dragging them to sit with the boys. Lily sat across from James and he smiled at her.
“Good Charms lesson today, wasn’t it?” he commented. Lily loved Charms, so of course she had to agree.
“I thought Flitwick’s approach to the calculations behind longer lasting charms was interesting, but I’d really like to be able to look at it in an Arithmancy context. I think it could get very complicated, so I understand why he’d only mention it, but still.”
James nodded. “Yeah, Arithmancy makes everything complicated,” he laughed, “But I bet Sirius would know, and he’s pretty good at making things simple.”
“I’ll ask him, although-” Lily started, but she was cut off by a strange shivering sensation. Then, everything in the Hall began to float, including the students themselves. Lily gasped as she and the bench she was sitting on rose into the air. Across from her, James had pushed off from his own bench and was windmilling his arms frantically, trying to get higher. Lily could hear Sirius’ barking laughter from above her and she glanced up. Sirius and Remus were floating a few meters higher than she was; above them, Peter was making his way towards the ceiling with a neat breaststroke. All around the Hall, people were laughing and exclaiming as they hung, suspended, in mid-air.
“This is what Sirius was working on,” Lily realized, her voice colored with amazement despite her usual opinion of Sirius. James laughed, floating closer.
“We’ve been planning this for ages,” he admitted with a conspiratorial wink, “Took us months to work out. What do you think?”
“It’s…it’s really cool, James,” Lily said. It was, to be fair. Floating around the Great Hall like it was some massive swimming pool was probably one of the coolest experiences of her life so far, and magically impressive, to boot. Even McGonagall was looking begrudgingly impressed, holding onto her hat as she hovered over the staff table.
“I’m glad you like it,” James murmured, and Lily’s gaze snapped back to him. He was smiling at her. Not grinning, but smiling, soft and sweet and a little too gentle for the middle of the Great Hall. The pressure in her chest was back, pushing against her restraint. James Potter, who lived in a manor and was doted on by his parents and was a loyal friend and so bloody persistent it had driven her mad. James who had saved her in the library and called out blood purists and showed first years how to find the Great Hall and smiled at her with that sort of expression on his face. She was staring, she knew she was.
“What?” James asked, rubbing his chin, “Something on my face?”
The spell they had used on the Great Hall was beginning to fade; Lily could feel gravity beginning to pull more insistently. James was looking at her, his hazel eyes curious, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, and the floor was coming closer, slowly, gently. The pressure in Lily’s chest was, in a sudden instant, too much. The dam broke. As they sunk back towards the floor, she reached out and pulled James Potter closer to her and kissed him on the mouth, right there in the middle of the Great Hall where everyone could see. He inhaled, sharp and surprised, and for a split second, Lily was afraid he’d pull away. But he didn’t. Instead, he tilted his head to kiss her more thoroughly and wrapped his arms around her waist as they floated towards solid ground.
When their feet landed on firm stone, they broke apart. Lily stared up at him, at James Potter, with his wide eyes and his tousled hair and his glasses askew and his cheek bright pink.
“Hey Potter,” she said, “Wanna go out sometime?”