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“I’m supposed to be under arrest.” Potter wiggled his fingers against his back. “Come on, Evans.” He looked over his shoulder, grin lopsided and hazel eyes sparkling. Lily swallowed, stomach fluttering. Get a grip. Just because James Potter had deigned to be halfway nice to her this year – there was no need for her legs to go to jelly and her heart to do loops.
“Prefects don’t arrest people,” she said, keeping her voice as even as possible. He pouted.
“You can, if you like.”
“Sit down.” They had the classroom to themselves, and a fresh wave of nerves washed over her. Stupidly. What was she afraid of? She’d tell Potter to write his lines, he’d kick back and put his feet up on the desk and refuse, and she’d finish off her Charms essay while the hours of his detention ticked down. Simple.
“Take my wand, at least,” Potter said, pulling the offending object from his pocket. Lily snorted.
“You wish.”
The offending words flew from her tongue before she could register them; she clapped a hand to her mouth. Potter guffawed, and then his grin further brightened, eyes twinkling. Lily’s cheeks flamed, but she marched to the teacher’s desk and dropped behind it, rummaging through her things. Potter deposited his bag in one of the chairs. Lily reefed out a textbook at random and flipped it open. Why? Why had she said that? Why –
“You think?” Her head snapped up. Potter stood over her, leaning on the desk. His hair was ruffled artfully, and his smile flashed like sunlight. Her insides squirmed. “You think I wish?”
“I have no idea what goes on in that brain of yours, if it exists,” Lily said.
“Zero insight?”
“Zero. Zilch. Nil. Naught.” Lily raised her eyebrows. “Why would I?” Why would you think I would?
Potter shrugged. “Prefect insight.”
“You seem to have very warped notions of what makes a prefect.”
“Well, Remus obfuscates.”
“Remus -?” It took Lily a moment; she’d never actually heard that word out loud. “Mm. Well, I’ll tell you a power we do possess – the one to give you another detention if you don’t do the work in the first.”
Potter slipped himself onto the desk, sitting atop the oak slab. He was dangerously close to Lily’s hand. She could feel the warmth radiating from him. She skipped a breath.
“Misuse of property,” she cited. Of everything, it was the most expected.
“Good view, though,” he said, looking down at her. She rolled her eyes.
“Wrong way, idiot.” She gestured to the classroom beyond. “There. The perspective of someone responsible. How’s it feel?”
Potter cocked his head. “Dull. Much better as a student.” And then he was off the desk again, doing little hops and zig-zags back to his seat, where he watched her attentively. Her face stayed hot under his gaze. Idiot.
“You know what to do,” she said. Potter leaned back.
“Yeah.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “When are you free?”
“What?”
“For another detention.” He flexed his fingers. “Don’t feel like lines tonight.”
“Write.” Her heart thumped traitorously. “Honestly, unless you want to have to deal with all this again…”
Potter smirked. “You wish.”