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The clearing by The Hopping Pot has already drawn an impressive crowd for the Fire Show by the time James and Lily arrive. After shuffling here and there, he steers them towards a gap in the crowd on the side of the stage and they settle into their spots right as the wizard takes to the clearing to begin.
A hush falls over the crowd and James glances down at Lily nervously, hoping that whatever was in store for them was enough to end this day they spent together on a good note.
This day had been incredible, by James’ standards. No fewer than three times had he stolen glances at her when she wasn’t looking and just marveled at how far they’d come in the past year. That Lily Evans would willingly spend an entire day with only him in the first place was a thought he never dared entertain, even less the thought that she would confide she was enjoying their time together.
He’s trying desperately to not read too much into it. They’re friends. They’re friends and it’s taken them so long to get here and he really doesn’t want to mess it up. He’d almost done just that when he lied to her about his quick excursion to Wiseacres, and he wasn’t planning on jeopardizing things again.
No matter how many times he thought he caught her looking at him.
Pulling his focus from Lily back to the stage before them, James watches as the wizard from the flyer begins casting a long stream of orange flame from the tip of his wand, and a faint memory in his mind begins to take focus. As the show wizard continues, swinging the flame around in a fierce and precise manner, that memory sharpens and he remembers. Remembers his parents whisking him around the country when he was younger, being hoisted up on his father’s shoulders to see above the crowds. Remembers the firelight reflecting off his glasses, just as it is now. Remembers how the trips became fewer and farther between before stopping completely.
He’s surprised with how quickly this magic before him unearths feelings, long forgotten memories of his childhood. As a child, he had loved shows like this and the awe they inspired. He always assumed he and his parents had stopped attending because he was getting older, they were getting older, and it just became too much of a hassle.
Now, standing here in the crowd with a wonderstruck Lily Evans beside him, it dawns: it wasn’t that his parents had stopped taking him, it was that the world had decided there was no place for magic like this—as a vessel of happiness and entertainment—as unease spread and war was creeping nearer. It wasn’t seen as practical. But this was the magic that embodied the spark of life within every witch or wizard, the excitement of seeing your first hints of accidental magic and imagining what was to come.
Lily’s gasp brings him back to the here and now as a cold blue flame flies over their heads. He smiles to himself, chancing another look at her from the corner of his eye. He doesn’t know if she’s ever gotten to see magic displayed in this way before, born of nothing but passion and joy. He goes to ask but stops himself, watching how her eyes flicker between the flames and the wizard on stage—she’s engrossed and he doesn’t want to interrupt. Their sixth year at Hogwarts had been so dark, so bleak, that a reminder of the inherent magic of magic felt like the first breath of air after being submerged. And he was grateful for the chance to bask in that feeling with her.
He’s still watching her when he sees her lips move ever so slightly and James recognizes the pattern anywhere. She’s talking to herself, whispering under her breath like she does when their group studies in the library or when she knows the answers in Defense but doesn’t raise her hand because she’s too busy taking notes. Her lips settle and pull into a soft smile.
Curiosity burning, he leans in. “What’s got you so smiley?”
Her eyes snap to him instantly, and he feels like he may never breathe again. He’s seen her happy before, seen her eyes shimmer with excitement before, but this was different—new. She seemed lit from within, the exhilaration radiating from her very essence, and it was impossible to look away from.
Before he even has time to snap back into reality, she’s speaking, her words flowing freely and excitedly.
“This is…incredible,” she breathes, gesturing at the show as she stares up at him. Seeing the effect the demonstration can have on someone, especially Lily Evans, makes James quite inclined to agree. She’s looking up at him and he feels a pull to her, a shared connection in this moment (of this day if he’s being honest). He knows the fire in her eyes is set ablaze by the show, but at this moment it’s directed at him and he swears he would give up magic if it means she’d look at him like this all the time.
She carries on, completely enraptured by the show and completely oblivious to how pathetically enamored James is with her .
“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.”
James is listening, he’s hearing, he’s agreeing with everything she’s saying—after all, hadn’t he thought the same just seconds ago? But there’s something in the way she’s speaking—the unfiltered, unbridled warmth and passion springing forward in every syllable of every word—he just feels as if his heart is in a vice grip and he can’t breathe and he can’t think about anything else.
“But this? This is…immense talent and passion, to modify a spell in so many ways.”
Only Lily Evans.
“But it’s also kindness, it’s joy, it’s light—”
Something possesses him in that moment and in one swift motion he’s pulled her towards him and his lips are crashing into hers without hesitation, the only thoughts in his head ‘I need her like air’ and ‘she is the most incredible girl I’ll ever know.’
Almost instantly he feels the gentle caress of her hand on his cheek, feels her lips matching the fervor, the eagerness of his own—and surely he’s dead, because there’s no way that this is real, that Lily is in his arms and kissing him back with the same hungry passion that’s threatening stop his heart.
A bright flash of purple and a loud crack! rips him out of his mind, sharpens his clarity to the here and now as they pull apart and stare at each other in shock.
Something like lead drops in James’ stomach and he steps back, horrified as the reality of the situation washes over him. He had been so deliberate all day to not overstep the relatively new and tentative boundaries of the friendship they had finally built. Yes he was helplessly head-over-heels for her but first and foremost he wanted to support her today as the friend she needed—no ulterior motives, no advances.
His damn lack of impulse control.
An apology starts falling from his lips as she’s stepping towards him, shaking her head. “Lily, I’m so sorry, I should’ve—”
He doesn’t register the ear-to-ear grin on her face until her hand is on his chest, tampering down his erratically beating heart. “Don’t apologize, it’s okay.”
His breathing stops. Because he must’ve been right the first time—surely he’s dead. Surely Lily hasn’t closed the gap again, smiling after he’d interrupted her with his lips. But he’s looking at her, looking at the way her eyes are shining at him , and the way her smile is shining at him and his confusion slowly fades.
“It is?” he breathes.
“Yeah.”
A smile tugs at his lips as they stare at each other under the shimmering, dancing ropes of fire, until another crack! draws their attention back to the show they came for. The air hums with energy in the space between them as they both stare straight ahead, not daring to look at one another. James takes a breath and reaches for her hand in that moment, as if pulled by an invisible force. His fingers graze her skin as a warning of his intentions this time around, giving her the option to retract her hand.
Instead her fingers twitch, reaching for him, and it’s all the reassurance he needs to lace them with his, squeezing tight. Her sigh reaches his ears and his attention briefly turns to her, checking to make sure he didn’t misread the cues.
Still staring at the show in front of them, a blush stains her cheeks and a demure smile plays at her lips, and James can’t remember a time where he’s ever felt this…happy.
Because yeah, it’s fine he kissed Lily Evans.
He knows he has to come clean about the scales he bought her when he sent her for ice cream. He knows she’s going to shout at him for buying her a gift. But he also knows there’s something here, more than he dared let himself hope there was.
So for now he keeps his gaze focused on the show before them, blush creeping up his neck, hand clasped with hers, the feeling of her lips still lingering on his. For now he is endlessly content to stand here, watching a display of magic long since lost to today’s world, something a lot like magic filling the space between them.