Work Text:
He’s going to murder Sirius.
No, James thinks as he looks around the small cafe that smells more like desperation rather than coffee, he’s going to figure out a way to punish his flatmate that goes beyond the merciful act of murder.
He supposes he only has himself to blame; it was his mistake, after all, for telling Sirius that his own mother was hosting some speed dating thing in the family coffee shop. His mistake, for accidentally letting it slip that his date with his mother’s book club friend’s cousin’s daughter had gone anything less than swimmingly, and his mistake, for not remembering that while his mother is many things, she also fancies herself a matchmaker - especially when it comes to her only son.
Sirius, on the other hand, she’d deemed completely hopeless a few years prior.
Lucky bastard.
James can see Euphemia flitting about her shop, checking in with the haggard-looking woman who must have organized this entire abomination and making a point to introduce herself to all of the lonely singles in attendance. She’s the welcoming and warm hostess everyone’s come to expect her to be, her favorite role to play, but James knows better. James knows that really, his mother is getting a gauge for what competition he might have and what girls he might be interested in, who might be able to handle the fact that there is no James without Sirius, whatever that may entail. Ever a schemer, his mother.
Sirius whistles from behind the counter, pointing rather obviously at his phone and blatantly ignoring the bloke waiting to place his order. Not exactly the makings of employee of the month, but there’s something to be said about nepotism. Euphemia has, after all, claimed that Sirius is her favorite son, if only to get a rise out of her actual, biological spawn.
Padfoot: ready to meet the love of your life, mate? ;) ;) ;)
Prongs: shouldn’t you be doing oh i don’t know
ANYTHING ELSE?
Padfoot: but this is so much more entertaining
James sends a rude gesture Sirius’s way, the motion catching Remus’s attention even as he tells someone named Petunia that her peppermint tea, extra hot, is ready. Their neighbor and other best friend, upon realizing what James is here for on his day off, starts snickering.
Traitor.
He’s considering making a break for it and jumping behind the counter to hide, but he’s fairly certain that Euphemia Potter would actually kill him, and if that wasn’t threat enough, the idea of his mates taking the mickey out of him once he’s in the safe zone is repulsive enough that James stands his ground.
Thirty minutes. He only has to endure this for thirty minutes.
The event hasn’t even started, and James can’t remember the last time thirty minutes had ever felt so long.
The woman standing next to Euphemia rings a bell and James glares in Edith’s general direction (because of course the tall, wraithlike woman with a narrow face and thin blonde hair would be named Edith , and James thinks it’s safe to say that she probably has a daughter named Marigold, too).
“Hello everyone! I’m Edith, and I’ll be facilitating the event this afternoon. I’m very excited to help you all get to know each other and potentially make a connection in those three minutes that will last a lifetime! The rules of this game are pretty simple: you’ll have three minutes with each person and during that time you try to get to know them as best you can, but you cannot trade any contact information. This way, no one is pressured to reject or accept, and then you have to take initiative if you want to follow up with someone.” Edith beams and James has to suppress the urge to roll his eyes, carefully avoiding looking at the register where he just knows that Sirius and Remus are attempting - and failing - to suppress their cackling.
“You’ll all notice that your name tags have a number written on the bottom right corner and that each of the tables is assigned a number as well. When I say start , please find your designated starting table and start chatting! When time is up, ladies, move to the next table in numerical order and gentlemen, stay where you’re at until you end up with the partner you started with. And...begin!”
James blinks as the people surrounding him hastily move to the claim their seats, and only a pointed glance from Euphemia has him moving as well. He finds himself sitting across from an undeniably lovely girl and makes a considerable effort to look interested. He supposes that under different circumstances, he could have been.
“Hi, I’m Elaine,” the girl says, blushing slightly as she extends a hand across the table.
“James,” he says, shaking her hand briefly. “Nice to meet you.”
And it is. It is nice to meet her. Elaine is sweet, and pretty, and he’s always had a penchant for blondes. She’s smart, too - studying to be a nurse at the local university, and when James tells her he’s majoring in sports and exercise science, she asks questions like she’s genuinely intrigued.
He enjoys himself, for what it’s worth. He remembers to be charming and compliments her until her cheeks are flushed yet again and thinks that he could fancy her if they weren’t at a bloody speed dating event orchestrated by his mother .
“I can’t believe a bloke like you is single,” Elaine says, sipping at her vanilla latte. (James is more of a chocolate man himself.) “What brings you to something like this?”
James doesn’t think she’d respond well learning that he’s here because of a bet, so he opts to deflect her question with one of his own. “I could ask you the same.”
Elaine shrugs, a small smile playing at her lips. “What can I say? I wanted to see if love at first sight was a real thing.”
“And what’s the verdict?” James asks, grinning and leaning back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. Elaine on the other hand leans forward, but whatever she’s about to say next is cut off by Edith’s shrill voice ringing through the air.
“That’s time! Move to your next table everyone!”
The next few girls he’s paired with are nowhere near as interesting as Elaine, and by the sixth round, James is pulling out his phone to send a litany of threats to Sirius and doesn’t notice when someone sits down across from him.
“I take it from the way you’re glaring at your phone that it wasn’t your idea to be here either.” There’s laughter within those words, a wry type of amusement that has James’s head snapping up.
“Sorry,” James says sheepishly, running a hand through his hair as he slips his phone back into his pocket.
“No need to apologize.”
She’s lovely, that’s for sure, but James has known lovely girls before - dated quite a few of them, too. He can’t stop himself from comparing her to Elaine, who was much more receptive to his questions and giggled at every single one of his quips. Lily, on the other hand, proves to be a much tougher audience, and it’s difficult for James to focus when his mother is hovering near their table.
He sends her a warning glance which he hopes Lily doesn’t notice, so of course she does.
“You know Euphemia?” Lily asks, her head tilted to the side as she watches the exchange.
James gapes at her. “ You know Euphemia?”
Lily shrugs and waves at James’s mother, who grins in response. “Sure, she’s always really sweet to me. Sometimes when I’m in here studying after class she’ll sneak me a pastry. How do you know her?”
“She’s my mum,” James says, outright laughing at the way Lily’s head whips from him to his mother as if searching for confirmation.
“Wait a minute,” Lily says, frowning as she considers James. “That would make your name James Potter.”
“Guilty as charged.”
“And you’re a SPECS major at Cambridge?”
“Right again.”
“Holy shit .”
James is about to ask what she means, but then Lily laughs . Really, truly laughs, head thrown back and eyes full of mirth, and James decides that no, she’s not lovely. Lovely doesn’t even begin to describe her.
Lily Evans is breathtakingly, undeniably gorgeous .
“Uh,” James manages to say as Lily attempts to get her laughter under control.
“I’m sorry, it’s just, I wrote a piece on you for the school paper less than a month ago! I mean, what are the odds, right? I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you! Mary made me go through about a hundred shots of you from the football match against the Eagles to pick three for my article.”
“ You wrote that? My mum framed that edition of the university paper! That article was brilliant! And that one you wrote investigating the swimming coach scandal?” James simply shakes his head in awe. “I couldn’t believe a student wrote something like that!”
Lily’s cheeks redden but she doesn’t duck her head, doesn’t shy away from his praise the way Elaine had. “Yeah, well, investigative journalism is sort of my passion.”
“How come you’re writing for the sports section? Not that I’m complaining, because, like I said, your writing is brilliant , but why not go for a different part of the paper?”
“I was a little behind in figuring out my major so by the time I tried for the paper my second year, the only positions left were sports and the advice column, and no one else really understood sports much, so here I am,” Lily says with a slight smile.
Gorgeous. Absolutely bloody gorgeous.
“You really come here often enough for my mum to give you free food? How’s it I’ve never seen you before?”
Lily shakes her head and laughs again. “Beats me. I’m usually here around three in the afternoon during the week.”
“Ah,” James says as realization dawns on him. “That’s when I’m at practice or the gym. Shame, that. You ought to consider coming around on weekends.”
“Why’s that?”
“‘Cause that’s when I’m working,” James says, grinning.
Lily rolls her eyes, but James swears she’s trying to hide a smile. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“So, Evans, I have to assume from the way you write about the sport that you must be a star football player yourself.”
“God, no,” Lily scoffs. “My mum and dad tried to get me and my sister into sports when we were younger and failed spectacularly. Petunia was a born ballerina but once she got into high school she quit entirely, and as for me, I have about as much grace as a newborn fawn, so our parents had to settle for having a daughter who could write about sports rather than participate in them.”
“At least your mum hasn’t taken it upon herself to take control of your love life,” James offers, reveling in Lily’s genuine, albeit reluctant, grin. “Unless she has, in which case you have my sincerest apologies.”
“No, that occupation has rather unfortunately been filled by my sister,” Lily says, scrunching up her nose as her mouth twists into a frown. “She met her husband through one of these speed dating things, and because I am currently the age she was when she got married, she thinks that if I don’t meet a bloke now I’ll die an old maid.”
“How old are you, anyway?”
“Twenty one this past January.”
“I’ll be twenty one in March!”
“You better hurry on and meet the girl of your dreams, then, else you’ll be doomed to be single for the rest of your life,” Lily says, a wicked gleam in her eyes that delights James completely.
“I wouldn’t dare do that to my poor, sweet, conniving mother - although it would serve her right.” Lily laughs again, and James is distantly aware of Edith letting everyone know that their time is up. From the way Lily grimaces, he can only hope that she’s just as loathe to end their conversation as he is.
“I suppose this is goodbye,” Lily says, and while she’s still smiling, James lets himself think that her tone is rueful. “See you on the field, Potter.”
“Stay fit, Evans.” Lily sends him a look of pure disbelief at his audacity, but there’s a telltale crinkle in her eyes and he knows she finds him utterly charming, because how can she not?
She’s almost to her next table when James calls after her. “Come by tomorrow morning? I make the best latte you’ve ever had in your life.”
Lily pauses, and looks over her shoulder to say, “I’m more of a hot chocolate girl myself,” and then she’s gone.
-/-
“Mate, give up already. She’s not coming,” Sirius says, exchanging a long-suffering look with Remus that James feels rather than sees, so he promptly chucks the dish towel he’s holding at Sirius’s face.
“Don’t believe him, James,” Euphemia says, throwing a rag of her own at Sirius. “She’s coming.”
“I don’t know what’s worse. My best mate telling me I’m never going to see the girl of my dreams again, or my mum reassuring me that I will.”
“Definitely the latter,” Remus chimes in, ducking as both James and Euphemia somehow find more ammunition and simultaneously try to pelt him with cloth. It figures that the Potters would be the ones to find a way to use towels as weapons.
“I don’t pay you two to stand around and gossip about my son’s love life. That’s my job, and I do it for free.”
“Yeah, but I’m the one who pays the price,” James mutter, hopping over the counter before Euphemia can turn her wrath on him. The bell above the door chimes, and his head snaps up, just like it’s done every time a new customer’s walked through the door, but he doesn’t spot telltale red hair, and doesn’t even try to conceal his disappointment.
“Pathetic,” Sirius snorts, and while Euphemia smacks him on the arm, she doesn’t seem inclined to disagree.
James is sullen throughout the rest of his shift and he knows his tips will suffer for it, but Sirius is more than willing to turn up the charm in compensation. It’s when he hears a girl ask Sirius if he’s ever considered being a model that he decides it’s time to take a break. (There have to be some perks for being the son of the owner, after all.)
He’s just about ready to admit that Sirius is ready and Evans isn’t coming when Remus calls out two hot chocolates with extra whipped cream and cinnamon for Mary. The name’s all wrong, but James can’t help but hope as he pokes his head out from the break room and scans the cafe.
“Looking for someone?” And then she’s standing in front of him, grinning because he’s obviously looking for her and James can only blink like a deer in the headlights.
“I didn’t think you’d show.”
Lily winces and offers an apologetic smile. “Sorry ‘bout that. Mary was having a bit of a crisis this morning - and by crisis, I mean she wouldn’t leave the flat until after eleven because it was the exact lighting she wanted for her photos. That’s her, over there, shamelessly trying to convince that poor employee to model for her portfolio.”
“I just thought she wanted to get in his pants,” James says, trailing after Lily as she goes to claim their drinks.
“I’m sure that’s part of it,” Lily agrees, looking back to grin at him. “I almost feel bad for the bloke.”
“Don’t. This’ll only inflate his ego more.”
“Fantastic,” Lily says, rolling her eyes. “By the time Mary’s done working him, his head will be too big to fit through the door. Shame, though - her chocolate will go cold before she manages to tear herself away. I don’t suppose you’d want it? I know most people don’t like cinnamon with their hot chocolate, so don’t feel obligated to say yes -”
“I love cinnamon with my hot chocolate,” James says, and he’s rewarded with a smile and an invitation to sit across from Lily as she sets the mugs on the table.
So maybe he won’t murder Sirius after all.
-/-
Lily makes a habit of coming into the shop every Sunday morning, thirty minutes before noon, and James happens to start taking his breaks around the exact same time. Pure coincidence, that.
His mother personally takes it upon herself to prepare the hot chocolates and croissants that Lily initially claims she comes in for every week, but after Euphemia finds her in the breakroom with James, his shirt halfway unbuttoned, they all drop the pretense.
They also refuse to talk about the way Euphemia had tossed a condom at them and advised them not to contaminate any of the perishables before locking the door behind her. Lily can’t bring herself to look her in the eye for about a month after.
“You should thank me, you know,” Euphemia tells James one day, when Remus and Sirius have gone home for the night and it’s just the two of them left, rolling out the dough to be baked the next morning.
“For what? My hair? My flawless complexion? My charming wit?”
“Yes, to all of those things, but I was actually talking about Lily.”
“What about Lily? You had nothing to do with our meeting,” James says incredulously. “In fact, you rather uncharacteristically didn’t introduce me to her even though she was one of your favorite regulars!”
His mother is, after all, quite the matchmaking genius - at least she fancies herself to be.
“While I didn’t introduce the two of you directly, I may or may not have heard from Lily that she was attending the event, and so I may or may not have set you up on a date with a girl I knew you’d be incompatible with, and then may or may not have encouraged Sirius into goading you to admitting it in front of me, where I could proceed to be both shocked and concerned and suggest to you, with Sirius in the room, to participate in said event, and I may or may not have told Sirius exactly what to say to get you to agree to a bet we both knew you’d lose. You can thank me later.” Euphemia’s tone is matter-of-fact, her smile smug as James’s mouth opens and closes several times.
Screw genius, his mother is an evil bloody mastermind.
“I take flowers, jewelry, and free labor as payment,” Euphemia adds as an afterthought, and when James relays the conversation to Lily a few days later, he watches in horror as his girlfriend laughs.