Chapter Text
MAY
Lily Evans was the first to arrive at the hall where her first A-Level exam would take place. So early, in fact, that a few invigilators had actually arrived after her. She had been too wired to sleep, thanks to nerves and about three litres of black coffee she felt the urge to neck last night. Plus, these days it was easier to hitch an early lift with her dad instead of Petunia, who’s new passion since their mum passed away was lecturing Lily over the top of the crooning harmonies of her new favourite boyband, Blue.
So here she was, nodding at the college receptionist who appraised her with an odd look as she passed. On the contrary, Lily wouldn’t see her best friend, Marlene, rock up until two minutes before. Marlene had confirmed that fact happily when they were on the phone at one a.m. in the morning.
Lily’s antsy foot tapping merged into a new set of approaching footsteps. She glanced up, glad of the potential company or a last minute exam tip from her Biology teacher, Mr Slughorn.
Instead, a tall, messy dark haired boy rounded the corner, whistling and tossing his standard issue clear pencil case in the air, so that it did several somersaults before he caught it again with ease.
Lily raised her eyebrows at the newcomer, and James Potter laughed. But then again, he was always laughing. In the seven years they’d gone to school and then college together, he was usually laughing. Not that she was paying particular attention. James was just the type of person you noticed. He liked it that way.
“Evans,” James greeted, half-smile giving her a glimpse of his white teeth. He wore jeans with a t-shirt, overlaid with a worn maroon button down he’d left open. He was the picture of relaxed, meanwhile Lily was one startle away from rocketing through the ceiling.
“Potter, what on earth are you doing here? Early for an exam and without your lads?” She craned her neck as if his three magnets - Sirius, Remus and Peter - would join him. Lily hoped for at least Remus; they had always had an easy friendship despite her tumultuous opinion on James, with whom she had spent years often vying for the top of the class. Lily’s competitive nature could never resist, but she always got the feeling James just did it for fun. That had frustrated her no end.
Grinning like she’d complimented him, James didn’t miss a beat. “Of course you’re here. You’ve probably been in and measured the width between desks to make sure it’s fair.”
She bristled at his delight. Although, she hoped that somebody in there had judged the width appropriately. Matt Eveson would be sat right in front of her as always, and Lily swore he was a bloody cheat…
“Oh God, Evans, you’re actually thinking about it!” James looked very pleased by this.
“Well, fancy bringing it up!” She protested.
James chuckled as he came to join her lonely queue, leaning heavily on one shoulder as he creased his eyebrows, forcing her to glance up at him. She’d recently noticed he had a few freckles on his face, very tiny, and the warm, sun-kissed equivalent to her fair, red headed complexion.
They were silent for a moment too long to be natural. Lily’s brain scrambled for words, but she couldn’t think of any that weren’t ‘freckle’ or ‘photosynthesis’. Her social brain was mush, which was a shame because Lily needed all her wits about her when talking to James.
So, James, as he so often did, took the lead. “You are so-”
“Well prepared for Biology?” Lily quipped in the nick of time.
James nodded, pressing his lips together with yet another smile. “That’s exactly it. That’s exactly what I was going to say.” His tone directly contradicted his words, and Lily frowned.
“Alright, Potter,” she chastised, rolling her eyes. James mimicked the gesture with a playful smile.
He had a talent for sewing compliments into conversations so well that they tended to trip her up and make her beyond confused. He, in contrast, barely blinked. James liked to charm people. It was practically his hobby, like playing guitar or football, and Lily had watched him win over every teacher and every classmate they’d ever had. She refused to be so delusional as to think his treatment of her was at all preferential, no matter what Marlene said, or how fit he was. (Whatever, everyone thought it).
Marlene was their initial mutual connection, having grown up with James and becoming Lily’s best friend, but the pair had never quite bridged the gap themselves. They existed entirely with other people’s involvement. Their various disagreements over everything from pranks to the point that Brontë was making in Jane Eyre ended up as canon fodder to the school’s gossip mongers.
“Why are you here so early?” Lily pushed past the moment in an effort to regain control. “I didn’t know you cared about college anymore.”
James slapped a palm to his chest in mock affront. “How can you say that, Evans? Have I not been your greatest academic rival - as well as secret crush - all these years?”
“I have never made a secret of just how much I will crush you in these exams.”
He whistled. “Expertly evaded.”
“Learned from the master,” Lily rebuked pointedly, as he hadn’t answered her at all.
A telltale hand jumped into his hair, and she smiled slightly at what she’d come to learn was a nervous habit for him. James’ twinkling hazel eyes slid to the small gesture and Lily had the insane, unbidden thought that sometimes the school crowds they were used to felt extraordinarily like buffers.
“Hey, I care about college!” He relented, holding up his hands in defense. “The boys and I just… booked a lot of gigs this year.” James rolled to lean his back against the wall instead.
The band. Marauders. James, Sirius, Remus and Peter formed it a few years ago, back when Lily was still friends with Severus Snape and did her best to boycott the whole charade because it annoyed him so much.
Of course, the whole band thing made their school go crazy. Already popular, Marauders made all four of them the local Beatles. They played every shitty venue in their town that would have them and by the time Lily had ended her friendship with Snape and turned up to a gig, they were writing their own songs and were pretty damn good.
Lily folded her arms, still facing him. “Well, Sirius can actually play the bass now so that must help.” James’ best mate made no secret of having picked up the instrument just to pull.
James smirked as his pencil case did another impressive pirouette through the air. “I just want to make sure I’ve considered all my options.”
Lily blinked at the earnest answer. “All your options?” She repeated, intrigued by this serious side of him glimpsed so rarely - at least by her. “Everyone says you’re going to Cambridge.”
Rather embarrassingly, she knew exactly what grades he needed to get in, too. It was part and parcel of having an academic rival, unfortunately. It wasn’t like he didn’t know she needed one A-star and two As for St Andrew’s.
“They do, don’t they?” He glanced over, considering. His sole gaze felt like a stage spotlight. Were they standing a little too close? “But if you want to give something a go, why wait? I don’t know how to say this to you without sounding like a right prick, but we’re serious about this band.”
“I know you’re serious enough to skip several double periods of further maths,” Lily reasoned, feeling like she needed to choose her words carefully. “I didn’t know you were serious enough to skip uni.”
“I could just defer it, my acceptance. If I get in, obviously,” James tacked on hastily, shooting her a rueful look. His sigh turned into a breathy laugh as Lily’s mouth popped open. “If it all goes belly up, I promise I’ll let everyone laugh at me, and I’ll go to Cambridge with my tail between my legs.”
“Doesn’t sound like you want to go at all,” Lily replied, before instantly turning away. That had probably been way too direct.
But James grinned, eyes glinting. His previous unease slipped off him like water. “Do you hate that you know me so well?”
Surprise caught Lily off guard, and she laughed skittishly. “Do I?”
“Well, you sound a lot more fond of me than you used to be, Evans. Noticed that I was missing double maths, did you?”
Lily felt her face heat, and she faced away from his all encompassing attention, tucking strands of red hair behind her ears. “Yes, well, in the way that I could finally hear what Mr Flitwick was saying without your continuous stream of commentary.”
“Hmm. I seem to remember you always interjecting, though.”
“You dragged me down to your level and I’m not proud. That whole class probably hates us both.”
“Is it weird that I’ll miss it?”
“Being hated?”
“Winding you up about maths.”
Lily knew what he’d meant, of course. The ridiculous rituals that felt eternal whilst she was in them were ending.
“Sounds like you’ve got Stockholm Syndrome, Potter,” Lily huffed a laugh, because James sounded like he was saying he’d miss her.
There was a sudden, uncharacteristic almost shyness to him and Lily got stuck in his gaze like a helpless fly on a web. She wondered if she would she miss him.
“What’s all this?” A stark voice broke through the strangeness.
Lily jumped a foot in the air, whilst James’ head dropped back in apparent frustration. Their classmate Bertha Jorkins stood before them, her ponytail impossibly tight and a single eyebrow quirked as her eyes flicked between them.
“We’re taking an exam, Bertha,” James gestured to their surroundings as though she had flown in from space.
Lily cut in at Bertha’s insulted expression, “He means we’re here a bit early for Biology. Separately. Totally random.” She threw a glance at James for back up, who watched her hasty conversational patch up job, face softening into a knowing smirk. He shrugged, leaving Lily a little off kilter.
Bertha snorted. “Fine. Picture for the newsletter?”
Her small silver digital camera flashed before either of them had a chance to object.
James laughed in baffled amusement as Bertha checked her photo with clear satisfaction. “Oh, Bertha. The Stockholm Syndrome does not apply to you.”
“What?” Bertha frowned, swapping her camera for the flip phone in her pocket. She threw one more glance at the two of them. “How’s Amos, Lily? Still going out with him?”
In her periphery, James coughed, but Lily did not divert her gaze from Bertha, frowning slightly.
“Yeah, he’s alright. Is there something you wanted from him?” Lily asked, because she knew she didn’t. She felt warm with embarrassment, quickly followed by irritation. Standing next to Potter was hardly a crime, even if Lily herself used to act like it was.
“Nope,” Bertha actually smiled. It was fairly off putting.
“Good luck in Bio,” Lily said dismissively as Bertha moved down the line, already texting.
James clicked his tongue, “Do you think there’s any chance she’ll retake that photo?” He was seemingly (and annoyingly) oblivious to the awkward tension.
Lily hissed to James despite herself, smoothing her hair down, “Unbelievable. She’s bloody ruthless in that newsletter.” Lily just loved being immortalised in her last, panicked moments before her literal future-deciding exams.
Although, now she thought about it, she hadn’t had a single meltdown about the nausea-inducing two hours ahead of her since James had arrived. Lily narrowed her eyes at him. Wasn’t that the same feeling she’d had in every lesson for who knows how many years? The anxiety, the need to prove herself, all swept up under a rug the moment James Potter goaded her into a debate about Theology?
James gave up on quite obviously trying to read Bertha’s texts to look back at Lily. He stopped short at her expression. “What is going on in that head of yours?”
Lily sucked in a breath. “Uh, I think I’ll miss it, too.” She tilted her head meaningfully, hands flapping in the air as though that’d help him understand she was referencing their conversation just now.
James, thankfully, didn’t make her elaborate. Maybe it was ridiculous to feel in sync with him and all his bravado. Maybe he really did just make everyone feel that way. She’d never been able to ask. His features relaxed into understanding and his hand ruffled his hair again.
“But anyway,” Lily cleared her throat, as several more people turned down the hallway. The quiet hum was gone. “Best of luck in the exam, Potter.”
“Good luck, Evans. Not that you need it.”