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“God, I hate working the bar.”
Lily throws her corset down on the floor, giving it a reproachful look. At the locker beside her, Marcie applies lipstick for the fourth time, the ruby red looking near radioactive by the sheen.
“Yeah, you’ve been saying that—but again , I promise you, this is the best gig you’re gonna find. Do you think those idiot fairies make this much money in one shift?”
Lily scowls. No, she doesn’t. It’s the double edged sword of taking this god forsaken summer job—she makes good money, really good money, but at what cost.
“Chin up, red!” Marcie crows, giving her a little pat. “Show some cleavage, make some quid, then after your shift you can get pissed and forget about it ‘til tomorrow like the rest of us. Rinse and repeat until you fly away back to your weird Scottish school.”
Fly away. God, if only Marcie knew how remotely close she was to actually being capable of doing just that if she wanted.
Lily sighs and picks up her uniform, pulling her arms through the thick fabric and threading the front lace. There probably is some sort of sick irony to the fact that a real witch is working at a fake magical fair, but if there is she isn’t particularly interested in parsing it out.
It’s the one thing she’s learned fairly quickly in both worlds: muggleborns will always be required to check their ego at the door.
The bar is fairly busy despite the wooden clock on the wall reading 10:30am. Men and women in various attempts at costume clamor to get to the front of the line, some of which she’s seen everyday since the tentpoles were grounded. On the other end of the bar, Marcie flounces around the taps, her teeth gleaming and tits pushed to the heavens. At her entrance a few of the regulars shout her name and she awards them with a simpering wink, running her hand up and down the tap handles with a fake innocence.
Well, at least someone is having a good time.
Heaving a sigh, Lily plods over to the other set of taps, steeling herself for the inevitable broken Old English and undercurrent of innuendo that will plague the rest of her day. Counting the till, the shadow of her first customer looms and she attempts to mask her annoyance with a cheery voice.
“Sorry, I’ll be just a moment—”
“Now worries, Evans. I’ll wait.”
Her head snaps up, coins falling back into the till uncounted. It must be some twisted joke—that or the stress of the summer is finally getting to her. Either way, James Potter stands in front of her, hair windswept to hell and a beaming grin on his face.
“My, you’re looking absolutely bygone this morning,” James says as he glances down at her bodice. Lily continues to gape at him, hoping he’ll just disappear if she prays hard enough.
He does not.
“Potter, what are you—why are you—the fuck?”
Unruffled by her confusion, he takes a peanut from the bowl on the bar and pops one into his mouth.
“I gather from the language that you’re happy to see me, then?”
Lily’s eyes narrow, her hands tightening around a tap handle so hard her knuckles turn white.
“Kidding, kidding!” James backtracks quickly, holding up his hands in surrender. “Don’t worry, Evans. I just happened to see there was a fair going on. Thought I’d stop in and—”
“Bollocks,” Lily cuts him off, absolutely seething. “Absolute shit. There’s no way you traveled from the Cotswolds—”
“—Aw, you know where I live? Touching.”
“—to come to some muggle fair in my town.”
James considers this then surreptitiously turns to see the small line that has formed behind him. Satisfied with his disruption, he turns back with a smile and pops another peanut into his mouth.
“Alright, you got me. Mary might have tipped me off that you took a summer job at a—how did she describe it— ‘a muggle’s very very bad interpretation of the wizarding world’ and I couldn’t resist.”
“But how did you know it was here? There’s loads of fairs like this. I swear if Mary gave you my address—”
James blinks. “Evans, you told me, remember?”
The memory resurfaces in a haze. They were studying about troll habitats, sitting opposite in the common room long after most of the rest of the students had gone to sleep. In passing, she’d joked that Cokeworth fit all the requirements for a suitable troll settlement and he’d given a serviceable enough laugh.
Her face reddens. If he remembered something so small and silly like that, what else does he know?
“I guess I forgot,” Lily says, trying to sound nonchalant. She pulls a rag from her belt and begins wiping away at an imaginary spill on the counter, hoping he doesn’t notice her blush.
“Aw, please don’t be cross with me, Evans. I’m not trying to cause you trouble,” James says, looking somewhat guilty. “Summer’s been such a drag and I figured…well, I figured I’d check in on you and do a little research for muggle studies—”
“You don’t take muggle studies.”
“But I could,” James shoots back, earnestly. “And considering I’ve learned so much in the past ten minutes of being here, I reckon I’d get an O no problem.”
Lily blinks at him, trying to control her breathing and decide which course of action to take. On the one hand, he’s here, in objectively the most mortifying place in the world, seeing her like this. But on the other hand, he had come all this way and actually seemed at least semi-earnest about it…
“Look,” James sighs, crestfallen. “If you don’t want me here I can leave. It’s really ok. I’ll just—”
“Red ! What’s going on ? Is the keg line busted or—oh, hello there handsome! What can I get a dashing rogue such as yourself?”
Marcie sidles up next to Lily, giving her a sturdy nudge with her hips to lean over the bar At the sight of her, James’ eyes grow wide and he flicks a panicked look over to Lily, clearly trying his hardest not to look directly down her corset. Lily can’t help but laugh at his expense. James Potter is rarely someone who experiences discomfort, but christ, does he look like he’s feeling it now.
“Uhm. Can you repeat that?” James asks, blinking rapidly. “I’m, er, new here.”
Marcie lets out a high pitched giggle. “Oh honey, I’ll make sure you aren’t new for long.”
Marcie reaches out and playfully shakes James’ chin and Lily’s amusement shores up. An immense desire to punch her in the gut takes its place.
“Well, what do you want?” Marcie continues, letting go of his chin and straightening up.“Lager? Guinness ? If you pay a few quid extra I’ll pour it down your throat and talk dirty to you.”
James goes pale, swallowing hard. “I think I’ll just stick to water—drunk the normal way, thanks.”
Marcie tuts and picks herself off the bar, shooting Lily a sly glance.
“Whatever you say, love. But if you change your mind, I’m sure red here will be happy to help.”
James’ fingers tap anxiously against the bar as Marcie crosses back to her side. Finally, when he’s sure she’s out of earshot, James rounds back on Lily.
“Uh—do you really offer that?” James asks hesitantly. “The bit about the–er– dirty talk I mean…”
“I don’t advertise it,” Lily says quickly, face burning. “But it’s technically part of the job.”
“Part of the job…” James echoes. His expression darkens and he stares off behind the bar for a moment. Lily clears her throat.
“My break is in an hour if you want to meet me behind the tent?”
James blinks. “So you can…talk dirty to me?”
“No! No, ” Lily stutters, absolutely mortified. “To see me. You said you wanted to check in on me, right?”
James’ face burns bright red.
“Yeah, if…if that’s ok?”
A small smile appears on his face, hesitant but hopeful. Anxiously, he runs his hand through his hair and Lily watches the curls part and stick up between his fingers. She has the strange urge to reach over the bar and feel them for herself.
“I can tolerate it,” Lily says, attempting to be teasing. “Since you came all this way.”
Like turning on the electricity, the James she’s used to flickers into place, his whole being lighting up and a dimple-spotted grin exploding ear to ear. His fingers grasp the edge of the bar, and the wood groans beneath him.
“Alright Evans,” he says, trying and failing to sound cool. He steps back, trying to manage his emotions, but there is a clear spring in his step.
“An hour. Behind the tent. Sounds like a plan.”
* * * * * * * *
It only takes a few seconds after James leaves for Marcie to pounce.
“Who was that?” she whistles, giving Lily’s shoulder a tug. “Do you know him? You must, there was such a strong aura around you both.”
Lily blanches. She doesn’t particularly like hearing about Marcie’s auras on a good day—much less that she now shares one with James.
“He’s a classmate of mine,” Lily says, pouring a beer for a man wearing a viking helmet. “And I hate to tell you but your aura detection is off—he’s barely a friend so I highly doubt we share some invisible—”
“Oh no, there was an aura all right,” Marcie cuts in, nodding her head. “Bright red with pink and green around your chakra points. It’s the classic ‘sexual tension with lasting romantic potential.’ No wonder he didn’t want anything to do with me—he’s so into you.”
Lily stares at her, dumbfounded. If Marcie knows auras as well as she says she does, then how is she not picking up on her desire to tell her off?
“There is no sexual tension,” Lily says with a frustrated sigh. “Just… maybe regular tension sometimes. He can be quite the berk when he wants to be.”
“He can be whatever he wants with a bum like that,” Marcie retorts, turning back towards her station. “No matter. He seems off—perfect for you though—and besides, the auras don’t lie.”
* * * * * *
After an hour of increasingly drunk and dehydrated guests, Lily excuses herself, ducking back behind the tent. James isn’t there so Lily slouches against an empty beer keg and undoes her hair, letting it fall in messy waves against her shoulders. She takes a whiff of her sleeve and recoils. She reeks of stale beer and sweat.
It’s a nightmare beyond her imagination. It’s already bad enough she even needs to take a job during the summer, but now with Potter here to witness it…
He’s probably already off running back to Black and his mates to take the piss out of me , Lily thinks to herself miserably. Oh, how funny! Muggleborn Lily Evans plays pretend on her summer hols because she’s too poor for new quills…
She stares out ahead of her into the rubbish lined outskirts of the fairgrounds. Past a crooked treeline, some teenagers smoke pot against a trunk while at the other end a couple dressed as pirates snog heavily, the eyepatch on the man’s head tugging upwards into his hair.
Lily lights a cigarette and takes a long, well earned drag, bouncing her attention between the two groups. She doesn’t remember the last time she did anything remotely fun or reckless like that —but maybe it’s for the best.
Maybe, she’s not cut out for fun.
With the cigarette down to the filter, she crushes it into the dirt and straightens up, looking around the immediate area for any sign of James. From just beyond the tent, a small gathered crowd on the main path bursts into an applause. Bored and impatient, Lily wanders idly over and her eyes widen in horror.
James stands in the middle of the circle of people, a young girl dressed as a fairy waiting expectantly in front of him. Holding up a 50 pence coin to show to the audience, he places it into the palm of the girls’ hand and curls her fingers into a fist.
“Alright, I want you to think of a flower as hard as you can…”
The little girl squeezes her eyes shut, grasping the coin with her life. James pulls his wand out of his pocket and taps her hand three times.
“One…two…three… open!”
The little girl opens her hand and a red rose sits perfectly where the copper coin had been. She shrieks with joy, turning back to her parents to show them while the rest of the crowd claps. James beams, soaking in the attention.
Lily’s feet move before she even realizes it.
“What are you doing?” Lily hisses, taking James by the arm. James blinks up at her, a breezy smile forming.
“Oh hey, Evans. Is it time already? Blimey.”
“Have you lost your mind? ”
She pulls him away from the crowd and he lets her direct him, looking fondly down at the hand on his bicep. When they get to a more isolated spot, she wheels around to glare at him.
“Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ll get in if you do magic in front of muggles?”
James blinks. “But I’m not doing magic—well I am, but not magic magic.”
Lily opens her mouth then closes it, at a loss for words.
“It’s muggle magic,” James says, puffing his chest. “Slight of hand tricks. No real wizardry involved.”
“But you used your wand.”
“I tapped my wand,” James says cooly, “But no magic—though I’m honored you thought there was. I’ve been practicing that bit for ages…”
Lily looks at him, completely flabbergasted. There are many words she’d use to describe James Potter but a complete enigma was not usually one of the front runners.
“Hey! Hey You!”
Lily straightens immediately, pulling back her hair as quickly as she can to pretend it’s still in its required updo. A spindly looking man with a patchy beard stomps over to them from the other side of the fair, his bejeweled, plastic crown glinting in the sunlight.
“What do you think this place is? Some kind of talent show?” The man bellows, his voice dropping to a lower register to sound authoritative. “There’s no soliciting on the fair grounds.”
James smiles, quirking his eyebrow in amusement.
“Oh, my apologies–er– sire? It’s just this fair maiden here was lamenting about how she’d faint if someone didn’t perform some magic for her and—well, I guess my chivalry kicked in. I’m sure you understand, being a bloke of royal standings and all.”
The man does not look like he understands. His face goes a blotchy shade of pink.
“Do you think you’re funny?”
“Er, do you want me to answer honestly?”
Hastily, Lily steps in, pulling on James’ arm to step off.
“I’m sorry Roger, really,” Lily says with a smile. “He just didn’t know—it won’t happen again.”
At her presence, Roger softens, his face going from an angry red to a light bashful pink. His eyes go wide and rake over Lily’s face, pimple lined chin ticking anxiously.
“Oh, Lily. I didn’t realize it was you!”
Beside her, James’ demeanor darkens. He stands up straighter.
“Sorry, but you know the regulations,” Roger continues, stammering slightly. “Nothing against you but if it happens again I’ll have to tell my dad and I really don’t want to see you—”
“It’s fine,” Lily says quickly. “I absolutely understand and it won’t happen again. Thanks Roger.”
At his, Roger blushes and straightens up a bit more. “Oh you’re welcome. But, hey! If you aren’t doing anything after work—”
“She’s got plans,” James cuts in bluntly. Like having forgotten he was standing there, Roger turns to James, his eyes narrowing.
“Sorry, didn’t realize you were speaking for her.”
James smiles sweetly.
“And I didn’t realize they crowned annoying little gits around here.”
A heated moment passes between the boys as they size each other up. Sensing an impending scuffle, Lily steps between them and pushes James on his chest. He doesn’t budge.
“It’s fine Roger, really. I’ll—”
“You know I’m getting really tired of sticking my neck out for you, Evans,” Roger cuts in cooly, staring directly at James. “This is my last warning, otherwise I’ll make sure to let my dad know—”
“Ooooh, your dad,” James mocks back. “How scary of you. Running to your daddy.”
Roger takes a sharp inhale, his jaw clicking. “Seriously, Lily, last warning,” he says quietly. “It would be sad to see you sacked over this knob.”
James frowns as Roger stomps off, his arms crossed over his chest.
“What was that all about?”
“What?” Lily yelps, “Nothing. Just another boss taking the piss—”
“No, he said he’s tired of helping you out. If my memory seems to recall, you’re nowhere near the trouble making terror I pride myself as so what’s he on about?”
Lily looks at him warily, debating the consequences of explaining how hellish her summer has actually been, then decides against it.
“I’ve just been late a few times, that’s all,” Lily says, turning away quickly. “Car problems, you know? Well, I guess you don’t know actually…”
James frowns, not buying it. He opens his mouth to continue, but Lily cuts in quickly, taking hold of his hand.
“Hey, can we just forget about it? Roger’s a bellend—he’s only nice to me anyhow because I have tits and am required to interact with him. Here—let's take a walk, yeah? For muggle research purposes?”
James doesn’t look like he wants to drop it, but he does, seemingly distracted by the hand that now grasps onto his. He lets her lead him down the long pathway through the makeshift village and quickly becomes enamored with his surroundings. Things she would have never blinked twice about are now shrouded in wonder: the parking lot, a water fountain, a deep fryer. He asks about it all and the childlike awe that exudes from his eyes is enough to lighten her heart just enough to feel like she’s having fun—maybe the first time all summer.
“Hey, look!”
They come up on the craft market and James tugs her gently towards a stall filled with exotic plants and flowers, the tent nearly suffocating with fragrance. He pulls her to a large treelike rack that displays different variations of flower crowns and begins to sift through them excitedly, picking each one up and surveilling it, searching.
“My mum wore something like this for her wedding,” James explains. He picks up a crown wrapped in sunflowers and places it on his head with a mischievous grin.
“How do I look?”
Honestly? He looks radiant, like the sun god himself doesn’t have a leg to stand on— but Lily doesn’t tell him that. Instead, she pretends to smell some nearby daisies.
“I thought all pureblood brides were supposed to wear goblin casted tiaras,” Lily says casually.
James snorts. “Mum and Dad have never been too reverent on what the other pureblood families are up to. Besides, mum says the Potter family diadem is the ugliest bit of goblin work she’s ever seen. She keeps it around on the off chance my future wife would want to wear it but every year she threatens to give it to a house elf.”
Lily smiles, imagining a house-elf parading around with a priceless heirloom, newly freed.
“That’s really sweet actually,” Lily says quietly. “But I guess it’s good she holds onto it—for tradition and all that.”
James shrugs. “Bah, haven’t ever really cared much about tradition. Just look at Sirius’ family, all they ever do is whinge about tradition and they’re about the most messed up family I can think of—ah, here! This one will go well with your hair.”
Out of a mass of intricate woven dandelions and blush-pink roses, James pulls out a fairly simple halo of green vines sprigged with babies breath and lily of the valley. Fingers moving softly, he sets it on her head and fiddles to get it straight, tucking bits of hair behind her ear and straightening her bangs. He’s so close to her face she can feel the heat of his breath on her cheeks and the best she can do is stare back in quiet amazement, afraid to move or even breathe; afraid to ruin the small, quiet moment.
“There—perfect!”
He pulls her to a hanging mirror and Lily looks back at herself. It is pretty, the white contrasting nicely with the deep auburn of her hair. She turns her attention to James and finds he didn’t bother to look at the mirror at all. Instead, he stares directly at her, face still entirely too close with something soft and unreadable glimmering in his eyes.
She isn’t quite sure what the feeling is, but it washes over her with an overwhelming force–and the power and depth of it scares her.
“It’s lovely,” Lily says, meaning it. “But, I can’t really afford—”
“I can buy it for you,” James says earnestly. He begins to dig into his pockets. “I’m good for it! Got muggle money and everything!”
“No, no, James, it’s fine,” Lily says quickly. “You really don’t have to—”
James stops searching in his pockets; his shoulders so rigid, she wonders if he’s somehow been hexed.
“You said my name.”
Lily blinks. “Sorry?”
“You said my name,” James repeats, a smile forming. “You called me James. You’ve never done that before.”
Lily blushes, her heart giving a strange sort of flutter.
“No, there’s no way that’s the first time. Surely I’ve—”
“No,” James cuts in, “I would have remembered if you had. This is the first time— ever. ”
Lily doesn’t know what to say. She shifts her weight. Her pulse goes into overdrive.
“Well…we’re friends now, aren’t we?” She says hesitantly.
James watches her curiously for a moment, scanning her face for an answer she doesn’t know if she has. Eventually, he just smiles.
“Yeah, we are—and I’m buying you the crown.”
* * * * * * *
Up above the main thoroughfare, a cobblestone path Lily had never noticed before intersects and leads up the hill away from the large crowds and into a more wooded part of the grounds. A rundown well sits idly in the shade of the nearby trees, its thatched roof worn to the point of breaking and a creaky bucket hanging on by a thin rope. Lily wonders if they might have wandered too far, but James approaches the small wooden well with a look of sheer awe, staring down into the depths.
“What’s this for?” James says, his voice echoing back up to him.
“It’s a wishing well—or I guess, just a regular well. I reckon you can wish for things just about anywhere you like.”
James pulls his head out from the well, and stares at her.
“So, it’s just a hole to yell all your hopes and dreams in?”
Lily laughs. “No—well, actually, sort of—but they’re normally just used for getting water. The wishing part is just something that comes from muggle stories—you want to try?”
Lily has him pull out the 50 pence from earlier and throw it over into the opening, an echoing plop reverberating back to them after a few seconds. With a flash of a smile, James steps up to the side again and careens his whole top half into the wood, voice reverberating back in an eerily, distorted boom.
“I wish that Puddlemere United wins the Quidditch Championship and that I get all O’s on my NEWTS and that Voldemort will just fuck right off .”
Lily snorts. “Wow, anything else?”
James pulls away from the well and shrugs. “What? I’m trying to get my money’s worth here—very expensive, these wishes.”
Lily giggles and steps beside him. Reaching for her coin pouch she finds a small one pence, closes her eyes and flicks it down into the well. When she opens them, James stares back expectantly.
“Well?”
“Well what?” Lily says, blushing slightly.
“What’d you wish for?”
“None of your business!” Lily huffs. She starts to walk away but James jogs up to her, grabbing her by the shoulders. Her heart gives the same flutter it made at the flower shop.
“C’mon Evans! I wanna hear it! You heard mine!”
Lily scoffs, “No way! Besides, you aren’t supposed to tell people what you wished for. It won’t come true that way.”
James considers this new bit of information for a moment before falling back into his cajoling mood, rounding in front of her with a smug grin.
“You have to tell me. It’s only fair. What’s wrong? Is it something scandalous?”
Lily starts to blush. “No, it’s not. It’s just—”
“Please, Lily. I’m dying here. Tell me. Tell me and I’ll never ask you for anything ever—”
“I wished to not be here.”
It comes out harsher than she means. A look of anguish spreads quickly across his face and he takes a stunted step away, shoving his hands into his pockets.
“Oh,” he says quietly. “If you had wanted me to go you should have just—”
“No, oh christ, I’m sorry.” Lily says, feeling her stomach turn to knots. “It’s not you, I swear it—I’ve actually really enjoyed today. It’s just—”
A long, uncomfortable pause washes over them.
Finally, Lily musters up the words.
“If I don’t work this job I won’t be able to afford textbooks next term.”
James' eyes soften immediately. He takes a small step towards her.
“Lily—”
“Dad hasn’t been able to keep a steady job after mum died,” Lily continues quietly, looking down into her hands. “My sister plans to move to London with her friend, so that clears up some of the money trouble—but Dad hardly makes enough to cover a Tesco run just for the two of us already and—and I really don’t have it in me to ask for money for school.”
“I didn’t know,” James whispers, searching her face. “Merlin, you should have told me. I–I’d be happy to help.”
Lily stops, turning to him with a frown. By the way she stares at him, he might as well have suggested jumping off the Astronomy Tower.
“I’m not looking for handouts, James.”
“It’s not a handout,” he says matter of fact. “Friends help each other. Merlin knows I don’t need the money—”
“It’s not that simple,” Lily says, lowering her voice. She hugs her arms to her chest. “We just became friends— it’s not like I’m going to ask you to–”
“But you should. I’m good for it,” James interrupts her. “I’m serious Lily. Whatever you need. I’m–I’m here.”
She opens her mouth to say something but James wordlessly turns back to the well, fishing out a pound sterling and tossing it in. He squeezes his eyes shut, focusing hard behind his eyelids, then reopens them, a small accomplished smile dawning.
“I thought of a new wish,” he explains, turning back to her.
“And don’t even ask to hear it. I need this one to come true.”
* * * * * * *
They round the rest of the way back to the beer tent in silence, both looking down at their feet as they trudge past growing crowds. In front of her work, guests spill out into the pathway, their rosy cheeks and slurring speech becoming more raucous as they get closer. Lily sighs and slows to a stall.
“I need to go back to work soon,” Lily mutters, quietly. “Do you…want to come in for a beer or something?”
James shakes his head. “I’ll just take a water and head out if you don’t mind. Alcohol and apparation seem like a bad mix.”
As they enter, Marcie eyes her new flower crown and the proximity James stands next to her and shoots Lily a small wink which makes Lily blush. She ducks behind the bar and grabs James a small cup of water and he downs it in one sip, placing back onto the bar.
“I guess I should be off. Thanks for the drink, Evans—and the time. See you…in September I guess?”
“Yeah, see you.”
He smiles, then with a small wave turns back towards the entrance. As a line starts to form in front of her, she tries to keep track of him in the crowd, but his dark curls become camouflaged by the fray of bodies and a hollow, rumbling feeling pounds at her chest.
She knows it’s silly—it’s a fantasy really—but without overthinking it, she pulls up the bar door and pushes through her line of customers, trying to catch up.
“James!”
She doesn’t hesitate. The second he turns, she launches herself at him, wrapping her arms tight around his neck and pulling him close. He smells like bonfire and cedar and quidditch leather—and she’s certain she couldn’t think of a more comforting scent in the world.
“It was nice to see you,” she says, hugging him closer. He hugs her back, a sturdy arm wrapping around her body. “Thanks—for being a good friend.”
Already feeling properly embarrassed, she doesn’t wait for him to say anything. With a final squeeze, she scurries back to the bar, picking up where she left off with a newfound sense of levity. When she looks up again to the entrance of the tent, he’s already gone.
“Hey!” Marcie screeches, plodding over to her side. “That fit bloke of yours is a dick! That bastard paid with counterfeit money!”
Lily frowns. “That’s not possible. He didn’t buy—”
She looks down at where Marcie holds James’ water cup and her voice cuts out. Fifty galleons glint back up at her, their serial numbers as clean carved into the gold as though he’d taken them from the goblin who made them himself.
Fifty galleons. Enough for her textbooks and then some.
“I can’t believe it. And I thought that guy looked posh!”
Lily stares for a moment, then a laugh bubbles up out of her chest, unable to be held back. It’s freeing and floating and something she’d really missed doing ever since summer began. Her heart starts to flutter and a strange sensation takes over her once more—a feeling, she’s decided, is a good thing.
“Yeah, the bastard,” Lily giggles, smiling fondly.
“Oh, by the way. I quit.”