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char10 · 4 years ago

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Of Cake Wars and Firewhisky

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From my ao3, many days after it was posted (for James Potter’s birthday) because I am not on top of things and I forgot :)

It's James' eighteenth birthday, the last one of his Hogwarts years, and he knows immediately that he needs to make the most of it. Various Marauders antics ensue, among them a food fight. Also, Jily.

“Is he awake?”

“Shut up, Peter, you’ll ruin the surprise. You whisper about as quiet as a bloody lion.”

James smiled to himself, listening to his friends’ bickering. “You’re not so quiet yourself, Pads,” he said.

Sirius yelped in surprise as James sat up, rubbing his eyes and fumbling on his bedside table for his glasses so that he could see the look of shock on his friend’s face. When he had managed to get them on, Sirius looked like a deer -- ha -- caught in headlights. Was he using that right? Lily had taught him Muggle idioms, but he couldn’t remember what exactly headlights were. Were those the ones Muggles wore on their heads to see at night? Really, he couldn’t imagine life without magic. How could he possibly sneak up on Snivellus without his Invisibility Cloak? And what if he’d have to make his bed by hand? James shuddered. Best not to think about it.

Remus was eyeing Sirius with an odd mixture of disdain, amusement, and that lovey-dovey feeling that James was seeing far too frequently on the faces of his two closest friends (really, he was happy for them, but he didn’t think it was too much to ask for one Transfiguration class without them eye-fucking the whole damn time, thanks).

“Surprise?” Peter squeaked out, glancing nervously between James and Sirius, who quickly recovered from his surprise and was grinning his trademark grin (which James had heard far too much about from Remus).

“Happy birthday, mate!” Sirius exclaimed, pouncing on James’ bed with his surprisingly -- and quite painfully -- sharp knees directly digging into James’ thighs.

“Oi!” he said, moving himself out of the way of what he could only assume were actual rocks in Sirius’ legs -- he couldn’t be missing out on his final Quidditch season because someone had snapped his femurs -- but grinned at his best mate and let himself be wrapped in a hug.

Remus and Peter, more peacefully, sat down on James’ bed without crushing him -- for which he was grateful -- and, somewhat awkwardly, joined in on the hug from either side.

“Alright,” James said after a moment, having been thoroughly convinced that at least four of his ribs were broken -- was this why Lily claimed he was dramatic? Probably. But really she was just as bad, and far more devious -- and he wasn’t sure of the last time Peter brushed his teeth, but judging from the smell it had not been recently.

Slowly, they let go of him and James pushed himself out of bed. It was just his luck that his birthday fell on a Monday of all days, but he intended to enjoy his morning before Potions began. Then again, he was eighteen now, and eighteen-year-olds really didn’t have to go to little things like Potions lessons, right? Right. It wasn’t as if he was pursuing a career in anything remotely related to Potions in any case, so it really didn’t matter. And besides, he’d never exactly needed an excuse to skip a class before -- especially if that class was Potions -- and he didn’t fancy starting now.

“We’ve got cake in your Common Room,” Remus said, once they had all disentangled themselves and were standing upright. James was wearing some stupid deer pyjamas that Sirius had got him as a joke at Christmas, but that were quite possibly the most comfortable thing he’d ever worn, so despite the embarrassment that came with the knowledge that he was fairly certain Sirius had bought them from a Muggle store for a six-year-old and enlarged them, it was entirely worth it. Besides, Sirius probably wouldn’t mention it today. It was his birthday.

Sirius raised his eyebrows, scanning James’ body. “I didn’t think you actually wore those bloody things, mate. They’re for little kids, you know. You look like a seven-year-old.”

Well. He probably should have seen that coming. James shoved Sirius’ shoulder. “They’re really bloody comfy,” he mumbled, feeling his face go red.

Sirius chuckled. “Alright, Prongs. Alright.”

Remus cleared his throat. “Cake,” he repeated. “In your Common Room.”

Oh, how James enjoyed having his own Common Room. Well, it wasn’t technically his own. But he shared it with Lily Evans, of all people, and he would never, ever, in a million billion trillion years, complain about that particular fact. It was, without a doubt, the best part of being Head Boy. When he’d gotten that shocking piece of parchment along with his list of school supplies he’d been…well, shocked . As had his parents -- that one had hurt a little, though he’d never admit it, and really they had every reason to, so he didn’t know exactly why it had hurt, but it had. As had Sirius. Oh boy. Sirius had howled , literally howled, with laughter for pretty much the entire day, once he’d gotten past his shock, and confirmed that it was not, in fact, all an elaborate prank set up by Dumbledore to...do something that Sirius had never gotten around to deciding on. Did Dumbledore even play pranks? Probably not. James laughed at the mental image.

Remus narrowed his eyes. “What are you laughing at?”

James shook his head. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

That stopped Remus in his tracks, where he’d been walking to the door of James’ dormitory. “James,” he said. “What are you laughing at?”

James sighed. “Well,” he said. “It’s just…I mean, Dumbledore was our age once, right?”

“Yes,” Remus said slowly, “That’s generally the way aging works.”

James rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Moony. What I meant was…well, what d’you think Dumbledore was like when he was at Hogwarts? Like, did Headmaster Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore ever play a prank? Did he have a girlfriend? Or a Snivellus?”

“You-Know-Who was his Snivellus,” Peter piped up.

Sirius sighed, exasperated. “Dumbledore and You-Know-Who didn’t go to Hogwarts at the same time, Wormy. They’re like, fifty years apart or something. I dunno. But Dumbledore’s way older.”

“ Anyway ,” Remus put in. “School-aged Dumbledore aside, there is, for the last time , cake waiting in the Common Room.”

James grinned. “Right,” he said, stepping past Remus and opening the door to the staircase that led down to the Common Room that he shared with the most beautiful, smart, perfect, wonderful, brilliant, impressive person in the entire world: Lily Evans.

“Never thought I’d practically have to drag James bloody Potter of all people down the stairs to birthday cake,” Remus muttered behind him.

Sirius snorted. “It’s actually James Fleamont Potter.”

“Oi!” James shouted, a retort on the tip of his tongue, but he’d gotten to the bottom of the staircase, and Lily was sitting on the couch, holding a cake in the shape of a snitch, and he felt his face split into what was probably the largest, most genuine grin in the history of the world.

“Happy birthday,” Lily said, grinning to match his own. She set the cake down on the coffee table and made her way over to where he was standing, planting a kiss on his lips.

Lily tasted like strawberries and sugar and goodness, and he found himself inexplicably grateful that she, unlike Peter, had recently brushed her teeth. He deepened the kiss, wrapping a hand around her waist as she wrapped hers around his neck, pulling him closer and James felt himself smiling against her lips and --

“Hey! We’re trying to get through here!”

James groaned. The perfect human that was Lily Evans had caused him to forget about the far more imperfect humans that were his best mates, lined up in the stairwell behind him. “Like you and Remus aren’t like this practically every day,” he retorted, because it was true, and, as happy as he was for his friends, it was sort of getting in the way of things like, you know, walking down what was apparently their favourite snogging corridor: the one directly in front of the Great Hall. The one that he, and every other bloody student at Hogwarts, walked though at least three times a day.

“If you two are all done,” Lily began, looking between James and Sirius, amused, “Then --”

“We’re not,” Sirius interrupted.

Lily glared at him. “It was rhetorical , Black.”

“Well, you asked!” Sirius exclaimed, at the same time James said:

“Bold of you to assume Sirius knows what ‘rhetorical’ means.”

Sirius glared at him, shoving his shoulder, but there was no real mirth in his face.

Lily rolled her eyes. “ Anyway ,” she said. “James --” she gestured to the cake on the table “-- cake? Your idiot friends have bribed the house elves into bringing you a feast, so you’ve probably got an incredibly unhealthy amount of biscuits on their way up here.”

James grinned. He certainly enjoyed unhealthy amounts of biscuits. His mum had learnt in his first year that sending James biscuits was not a motivation to get him to write home more often, and in fact only served to cause further detentions as a result of increased sugar in his already far too energetic eleven-year-old self. Needless to say, the biscuits had stopped coming. So naturally, he’d gotten very familiar with the fine art of bribery, especially in regard to house elves and their ability to procure biscuits for him and his friends.

As long as his mother never -- never -- found out that he was eating birthday cake and biscuits for breakfast, everything would be fine. With his luck, she probably would. Somehow. But he’d just cross that bridge when, and if, he came to it.

And in the meantime, he very much intended on enjoying said birthday cake, biscuits, the company of his wonderful, perfect girlfriend who he still couldn’t really believe was his girlfriend, and the company of his less wonderful, very imperfect mates (but really, James loved them more than he could possibly hope to express).

Lily had the now sliced cake floating around the room (“like the Snitch!” she’d said, which James found endearing, as it was quite obvious), which James had enjoyed until one piece had smacked directly into the back of his head, which had him sputtering and coughing on his piece of cake, while the rest of his so-called friends laughing uproariously like the traitors they all were.

James had, naturally, plucked a piece of cake out of the air and smashed it into Sirius’ face in response.

“Oi!” Sirius said, spitting golden frosting out of his mouth and pointing at James. “I’ll get you for that! I, unlike somebody , actually put very hard work into my hair; I can’t have bloody Quidditch-themed birthday cake messing it up!”

“Lily likes my hair!” James said, looking to his girlfriend, who had , on numerous occasions (some of the more…intimate occasions Sirius had, unfortunately and, James hoped, by accident, been present for) voiced her appreciation for the hair that was unnervingly impossible to tame.

Lily shrugged. “It’s alright, I suppose,” she said.

James gasped dramatically in mock betrayal, while Sirius cackled and grinned triumphantly.

“Oh, you’ll pay for this, Potter,” Sirius said, reaching for his wand off the coffee table and accio-ing a piece of cake before shoving it at James’ face.

James, thanking his brilliant Chaser reflexes for what was probably the millionth time, ducked and yelped, tumbling over the back of the couch. “It’s my bloody birthday , you prat!” he yelled, as the piece of cake Sirius had thrown at him hit the wall behind the couch.

Despite his protests, though, James had never been one to turn down a fight of any kind, especially if it was a fight involving food. Extra especially if said food was cake. So he summoned a piece of cake and threw it over the couch. Without looking. Which…turned out to be a mistake.

There was the distinct smack of cake hitting a face. Followed by…silence. And then:

“James,” Remus said.

James cringed.

“Do you maybe want to…look at where you’re throwing your cake next time?”

Well shit. “Did I…hit you?” James asked.

“No,” Remus said. Very sarcastically. “You didn’t.”

“Sorry?” James poked his head above the top of the couch.

Which was another mistake.

A piece of cake that James could only assume was from Remus -- based on the flash that he took the signify magical involvement that would never have come from Sirius, who preferred brute physical force -- filled his field of vision, and he was knocked back, thanking Merlin for his glasses which had at least somewhat protected his eyes.

But also, he could no longer see. There was cake and frosting coating his specs, but he could hear Lily’s beautiful, ringing laughter from where she was sitting, untouched by their cake war, and despite the mess that was his face, he smiled.

And readily summoned more cake to throw at his friends.

Thirty minutes, and a lot more splattered cake later, Lily stood up.

“Protego!” she yelled, throwing up a shield just as a piece of cake Sirius had sent at James nearly collided with her. She had joined in their fight after Remus -- Remus of all people -- had hit her with a large chunk of what had been part of the wing of the Snitch. Their Common Room was a mess.

The poor house elves had appeared a few minutes into The Great Cake War of 1978 (as it was later to be deemed), and there had been a momentary pause in the battle while they had each grabbed as many biscuits as they could carry before returning to their various positions and resuming their food fight.

All flinging of cake stopped at Lily’s shield charm, and the attention of the room turned to her.

She grinned at each of them, eyes lingering on James. “I declare myself the victor,” she said. “And none of you are to argue, seeing as I made that cake, which I’m only now realising, we unfortunately have thrown all over our Common Room, and eaten almost none of.”

“That’s not a reason for victory, Evans,” Sirius pointed out. “I reckon I won, because I’ve kept track --” James found this doubtful, given Sirius’ track record with “keeping track” of things “-- and I do believe I’ve dealt the most damage.”

“If anyone’s won,” James cut in, “it’s me. I’m the birthday boy, in case you’ve forgotten?”

There was a minute of silence, before shrugs and a smattering of begrudging acquiescence. James grinned triumphantly. He’d bathe in cake batter if it meant winning something. There was also a possibility that he’d bathe in cake batter just for the fun of it because now that he thought about it, that did sound pretty cool.

“Scourgify,” Remus -- ever practical -- muttered, pointing his wand at himself, then repeating the charm on Peter, Lily, James -- notably not Sirius, who glared at him and performed the charm himself -- and the more batter-covered surfaces in their Common Room before tucking his wand into his robes and clearing his throat. “Well,” he said, glancing at his watch, “as enjoyable as that was, we’ve all got a Potions lesson to be off to, so…”

He made for the door, but paused upon realising that no one had followed him. “Or…” he began, raising an eyebrow, “do we not?”

James grinned. “It’s our final year, Moony! Lighten up a bit, let’s have some fun. It’s been ages since we’ve missed Potions, and frankly, I can’t be held responsible for my actions if I’m forced to listen to Slughorn drone on about the bloody healing properties of Asphodel for an hour.”

“As if you’re ever held responsible for your actions,” Remus muttered.

Which, true, but James didn’t need it pointed out. “Oi!” he said. “I am! All those detentions, remember? School records and what not?”

Remus rolled his eyes. “ Anyways , if we’re not going to Potions -- which I maintain is especially irresponsible given that our NEWTs, you know, the most important exams we will ever take are coming up -- then what exactly are we doing?”

James shrugged. “I was thinking Hogsmeade, I’ve been meaning to go to Zonko’s, we need more Dungbombs --”

“ Need is a strong word,” Lily cut in.

“We need more Dungbombs,” James continued, “and to your point, Remus, it’s not really as if our NEWTs matter much at this point, do they?”

They were all going to be working with Dumbledore and whatever organisation he was putting together to fight Voldemort after Hogwarts. James’ parents had given him a Look when he’d come home at Christmas break announcing his plans for his future. He’d come prepared with a long list of arguments as to why they should support his decision, expecting them to put up a fight and convince him and Sirius to pursue a less dangerous option.

Looking back on it, he should have known better. His parents had looked at him with an odd mixture of pride and fear and sadness, but they’d just hugged him tightly and told him how proud they were; that they loved him and they were so so scared for him. And of course they were. He’d been stupid to think his parents would do or say anything else.

He felt both terrified and excited for what came after graduation. As soon as Dumbledore had told them about his organisation his mind had been made. There was no other option for him after that, and he’d spent every second since wanting to fight, wanting to do something, more than what he could do within the walls of Hogwarts. His school had never felt so suffocating.

But on the plus side, NEWTs were pretty irrelevant for him. Remus and Lily, the nerds, still insisted on actually studying for the bloody things, which James would never understand.

“James,” Lily said, in that annoying condescendingly patient tone of hers that James had a very conflicting love/hate relationship with, “we’ve been over this. Just because we’re not going to be needing our NEWTs immediately after Hogwarts does not mean that they’re not important.”

He stuck out his tongue because, as Lily often reminded him, he was an actual five-year-old. Then he frowned. “You’re not going to Potions, though, right?”

His trip to Hogsmeade would be significantly less enjoyable if Lily wasn’t accompanying them.

Her face softened. “It’s your birthday, James. Of course I’ll skip Potions for you. And besides,” she grinned, “I’d very much like to see this ‘Marauder’s Map’ that’s caused such an inordinate amount of trouble for me over the years.”

James felt a smile return to his face. “That…can be arranged.”

Lily came over from where she was standing a few paces away to wrap her arms around his head. “Good,” she whispered. “We’ll need it for some alone time later, yeah?”

Aaaaand he couldn’t breathe. Merlin, she was incredible. Somehow, he nodded weakly. “Yup. Yes. Definitely.”

Lily smiled and stood up on her toes to catch his lips in a kiss.

Behind them, Sirius gagged dramatically and Remus cleared his throat.

James flushed as Lily stepped back, winking at him, flipping his mates the bird.

“You’re intolerable, the both of you,” Sirius muttered once he had finished pretending to vomit.

Peter was looking anywhere but James and Lily, his face red, and Remus’ eyebrows were raised, exasperation clear on his face. James wasn’t sure if it was meant to be directed at him and Lily or at Sirius’ antics, but had a long-standing rule of when in doubt, blame Sirius. Well, technically, the rule was when in doubt, blame Snivellus, but somehow he was pretty sure the greasy git could escape blame for Remus’ exasperation this time. So Sirius it was.

“Honestly, Padfoot? As if you’re not twice as bad. So dramatic,” he said, shaking his head.

Sirius laughed. “ I’m the dramatic one?” he asked, looking around the room in disbelief.

“Hey!” James said. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that --”

“If we’re going to be skipping Potions could we at least get to it?” Remus interrupted, glaring at James and Sirius in turn. “I’d rather not miss Transfiguration as well.”

James straightened at that, a grin on his face. “D’you think Minnie will remember it’s my birthday?”

Remus fixed him with a stare. “No,” he said. “No, I don’t.”

James frowned. “And why not? I’m clearly her favourite student.”

“I don’t think Professor McGonagall is one to give out birthday wishes, James.”

“I’ll prove you wrong,” James said, “mark my words.”

Remus rolled his eyes and turned to his boyfriend. “Sirius, have you got the Map?”

“Always,” was Sirius’ immediate answer, and he reached into a pocket of his robes to procure the most genius awesome piece of parchment Hogwarts had ever seen. “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

Lily let out a snort. “That’s what you’ve chosen?” she asked. “ I solemnly swear that I am up to no good ? Really?”

James frowned. “What’s wrong with it?” He thought it was a rather clever name, himself. Maybe that was because he’d come up with it, maybe not. Regardless, there was absolutely nothing wrong with it, and he wasn’t entirely sure why Lily seemed to be insinuating that there was.

“It just sounds funny, is all,” she said, leaning over Sirius’ shoulder to look at the Map. Her eyebrows shot up. “It is…extensive, though. I can see how this might have been…useful in your trouble-making.”

James took a bow. “Thank you,” he said proudly. “It was entirely my idea.”

Lily pecked his cheek. “Of course it was,” she said sweetly.

James frowned, but didn’t have time to come up with a retort before Sirius had the Map on the table and was showing Lily its various functions.

“Here,” he said, pointing to a…familiar broom closet on the fifth floor. “Is where you and James go to snog every time one of you has rounds up there, but I suppose you knew that already.”

Lily flushed, as did James, and he reached over to point to a different spot on the Map, his favoured route to Hogsmeade, “and here ,�� he said, “is how we’re getting to Hogsmeade.”

Lily’s brows furrowed as she looked it over in wonder. “How on Earth did you discover all of these?”

James shrugged nonchalantly, trying not to show just how proud he was of the Map (it had taken so much work). “We’re just clever like that.”

“Oh, are you now?” Lily teased.

“Well, maybe just Remus then.”

“That’s better,” Lily said, laughing. Remus blushed.

James tapped the Map with his wand. “Mischief managed,” he muttered, and it became an ordinary piece of parchment, which he tucked into his pocket. “I’ll be just a mo,” he said. “I’ve got to grab the Cloak.”

The others nodded, and James raced back up the stairs to his room, grabbing the Cloak from where it was strewn on the floor -- one of the many joys of having his own dormitory was that there was no one to steal his things if he left them lying about -- before heading back down to where the others were waiting.

The Cloak, of course, was nowhere near large enough to fit all five of them under it, but Sirius, James, and Peter could squeeze under while Lily and Remus -- who they all figured would never be suspected of wrongdoing, being the perfect students that they were -- remained on the outside.

It was…uncomfortable to slide into the underground passageway with five people, and perhaps even more uncomfortable to walk through the cold, damp earth, but there was also the thrill that James still got from breaking the rules, and Lily -- despite begging him to obey the rules -- had a bit of a wicked streak, herself, and James could tell that she was enjoying it.

They walked together behind the rest of the group.

“Romantic, eh?” James said, leaning in to whisper in her ear.

Lily chuckled. “It’s not so bad.” She took his hand and squeezed it.

James smiled to himself and squeezed back, relishing her touch for the rest of their now less miserable hike.

Honeydukes was everything that the dark tunnel was not. James grinned, Invisibility Cloak in his extendable robe pocket, as they entered the store. There was no need for it, really, not when he was on the terms that he was with the Flumes.

James and the Flumes had a simple arrangement: he paid extra for excessive amounts of sweets which he frequently distributed at parties in Gryffindor Tower, and in return for his loyal business, the Flumes chose to look past his shopping in their store instead of attending, say, Potions classes.

So he simply waved at Ambrosius, who was re-stocking the Chocolate Frog cards.

“James, my boy!” he exclaimed, putting the box he’d been holding on a display table. “What can I do for you?” His eyes scanned over James’ companions, settling on Lily. “And who’s joining us today?”

The Marauders rarely did anything without their friends, so naturally James’ relationship with the Flumes extended to his friends as well.

Lily, who had unsurprisingly never skipped a Potions class to sneak into Hogsmeade for candy, did not.

“This is Lily,” James said, grinning. “My girlfriend.”

Ambrosius’ interest seemed to have peaked. “Not Lily Evans?”

James blushed. He’d never exactly hidden the fact that he massively fancied Lily Evans from anyone. Including Ambrosius, who’d asked if he had a ‘special someone’ after James had bought two dozen packages of Honeydukes Best Chocolate and Pumpkin Pasties the day before Valentines Day. James had not, at the time, had a special someone, as he informed Ambrosius, but he’d very confidently -- over confidently, as he’d later learn -- stated that he would the next day. The next day he’d come in and bought himself an absurd amount of pity chocolate, and Ambrosius had patted his shoulder lightly and told him that he’d get there one day.

Lily looked at James, a smile on her face. “That would be me,” she said.

Ambrosius smiled warmly, coming over to shake her hand. “I’ve heard so much about you, my dear. You’ve finally said yes, then?”

Lily laughed, nudging James in the side. “I have.”

James was fairly certain that there was a dragon in the room, because his face was quite possibly on fire. Sirius would never let him hear the end of this, if the gleeful look on his face was anything to go by, which, unfortunately for James’ dignity, it most definitely was.

“Right,” James said, scratching the back of his neck before the conversation could go any further. “I was thinking…Fizzing Whizbees?”

Ambrosius nodded eagerly. “We’ve just had a fresh batch.”

“And Exploding Bonbons?” Sirius asked.

“Chocoballs,” Remus added.

“Jelly slugs, too!” Peter squeaked. James would never understand his obsession with jelly slugs.

Ambrosius simply nodded, more than used to their lack of restraint when it came to sweets. “Anything for you, Lily dear?” he asked, smiling at her.

Lily, who looked amused and not the least bit surprised at the insane amount of candy they were purchasing, shook her head. “I think what these lads have gotten will be more than enough for us.”

James rolled his eyes. “Some treacle fudge, too, for her.”

Lily turned to him. “Should I be concerned about the amount of sugar we’re going to be consuming?”

James laughed. “Nah,” he said. “You’ll be fine. Maybe we can run from Filch to finish the adventure off, get some of our energy out like that, yeah?”

She shoved his shoulder. “I hope you’re joking.”

He wasn’t really, but it was fine. Running from Filch was a time-honoured Marauders tradition. No escapade was fully complete without the thrill of almost getting caught, and Filch wasn’t much of a real threat in any case.

Ambrosius, who’d left to find the massive amount of sweets they’d ordered, returned with Remus’ extendable bag, filled to its metaphorical brim. “What’s the occasion?” he asked as James fished around in his pockets for the galleons.

Lily grinned. “It’s James’ birthday!”

“Oh!” Ambrosius exclaimed excitedly. “Happy birthday, my boy! It’s eighteen now, right?”

James nodded.

“That’s a big one in the Muggle world, you know,” he said, leaning back with a wistful smile. “I remember my eighteenth birthday. Summer after I graduated Hogwarts, spent it right here in this store making Crystallised Pineapples. I was quite fond of them at the time. Here,” he said. “I’ll get you some. On the house, it’s your birthday, enjoy it.”

“There’s really no need --” James began, but both Ambrosius and Sirius shushed him, so he shrugged and accepted the bag the shop owner placed in his arms. “Well, thank you,” he said. “And we’ll be back soon. I’m planning on crushing Hufflepuff next week, so I’ll be stopping by for the party materials in a few days.” He grinned.

“So arrogant,” Sirius muttered as they walked out of the door into the chilly late March air.

James looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t think we’re going to lose to the Puffs, do you?” he asked, his voice full of mock concern.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Shall we sit over here?” he gestured towards a patch of grass just beyond the Hog’s Head.

Peter frowned. “On the grass there?”

“Well, I was going to conjure up a picnic blanket, but you’re welcome to sit on the grass if you’d like, Peter,” Sirius said.

Peter flushed. “Blanket’s good,” he muttered, following Sirius to the patch of grass.

The ground was cold and damp, even through the blanket, but with the absurd amount of candy that they’d purchased and were now eating, it was easy to forget about.

“Better than Potions?” James asked, looking pointedly at Remus, who was lying on his back enjoying his chocolate.

Remus sat up and smiled. “Maybe a little bit,” he said.

“Lily?”

She sighed. “It is a nice day,” she said. “And you know Professor Slughorn loves me too much to stay mad at me for much of anything.”

“Not after Francis,” James said, grinning at her. “I’m fairly sure Slughorn would retire if you asked him to after you got him Francis.”

“Sorry,” Sirius asked, brows furrowing. “Who exactly is Francis?”

Lily’s grin grew wider.

James laughed. “Oh boy,” he said.

“Francis,” Lily began, shushing James, “is a fish.”

“A fish?” Sirius asked, deadpan. “You bought Professor Slughorn a bloody fish ?”

“Let me finish ,” Lily said, “Francis is a fish whom I transfigured from the petal of a lily and gave to Professor Slughorn as a gift because I am his favourite, and best, student of all time.”

Sirius stared at her for a moment. “So you’re how that fish got to his classroom?”

“I am,” Lily confirmed, beaming with pride.

“Well,” Sirius said. “We got a Slughorn a different gift, and personally I think it’s much better than yours.”

Lily looked wary. “Do I want to hear this story?”

“Yes,” James said, smiling at the memory, just as Remus said:

“Probably not.”

“That’s a yes,” Sirius said, glaring pointedly at Remus, “so --” he turned to face Lily and set down his Exploding Bonbon “-- you know how Slughorn’s oddly obsessed with these?”

He held up a crystallised pineapple and Lily nodded.

“I’ve given him some,” she said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Sirius said, “he was being a right git to Peter one day, and naturally we all needed to get back at him for that, so we came down here, bought some crystallised pineapples and then went back up to the castle. Now he’d been awful to Peter, just for yawning in class -- absolutely ridiculous that man, we’re bloody students, we get tired sometimes, you know? -- so we coated them in a Sleeping Draught and then had Peter give them to him the next class as an ‘apology for being tired in class.’ Peter said he’d made them himself and wanted to know what Slughorn thought of them, so the stupid man tried some right then and there, which was of course all part of the plan, and he was out in, what, five minutes? Ten minutes? What was it, James?”

“I’d say ten,” James said, smiling broadly.

“He deserved it,” Remus said.

“Of course he deserved it,” James replied. “You’d never have let us prank a professor if they didn’t deserve it, Moony.”

Lily shook her head. “Would I be correct in assuming you wormed your way out of detention for that one?” she asked.

“We don’t worm our way out of anything,” Sirius said. “We’re just very strategic. After Slughorn was out, we switched the bag of drugged pineapples out for some normal ones. He cast all sorts of diagnostics on the bloody stuff to see if we’d done anything, but found nothing. We only get detention when we’re sloppy.” He paused, “Well, when we’re sloppy and before we had the Map.”

Lily sighed. “I do pity our professors for having to deal with you.”

“What about me?” James asked, mock hurt.

Lily leaned over and planted a kiss on his mouth, then pulled back to whisper, “Especially you.”

James blushed, Lily laughed, and they spent the remainder of the morning on the blanket eating a stupid amount of sweets and telling stories.

But, like all good things, it came to an end when Remus insisted they get back to the castle for their Transfiguration lesson.

“D’you think she’ll remember my birthday?” James asked for what was probably the hundredth time as they made their way to Transfiguration.

Remus, who had long since stopped responding, only sighed and exchanged an exasperated look with Lily.

The only thing Professor McGonagall said when they walked in, five minutes late was:

“You’re late.”

“Sorry, Professor,” James started. “We got stopped by some firsties, you see, who wanted to talk to me because today, as I’m sure you know, is…”

He waited for her to finish the sentence.

She raised an eyebrow. “Is what, Mr. Potter?”

“My birthday,” he mumbled dejectedly. “Today is my birthday.”

McGonagall sighed. “Take your seat, Potter,” she said, but James could’ve sworn he saw the slightest hint of a smile on her face, so he smiled and sat next to Lily.

“Did you see that?” he asked her. “She smiled at me! Professor McGonagall smiled at me .”

Lily pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’m sure she did.”

“She did!” James whispered furiously. “I swear it!”

Lily nodded. “Yes, love.”

James sat back in his chair and sighed. “You’re the worst.”

“But you love me.”

James froze. They…had not said that. It was true, of course, but they hadn’t said it. She knows, he thought. Sheknowssheknowssheknowssheknowssheknows.

“--ames? James?” Lily was whispering frantically. “James? I didn’t -- if you don’t --”

He shook his head. “Yeah,” he said, his throat suddenly dry. “Yeah I do.”

She stared at him. “You do?”

He forced himself to nod. “I love you.”

Lily’s face was about five centimetres away from his own, filled with wonder and awe and hope. He could smell the cake and frosting from the morning’s battle, the treacle fudge and chocolate from Honeydukes, even a trace of the sweet smell of her shampoo that he couldn’t quite place a finger on. “I love you too,” she murmured.

Now it was James’ turn to stare. He’d loved Lily for an embarrassingly long time. Or, it should have been embarrassing, but it truthfully wasn’t because nothing about loving her could ever, ever be even a little bit embarrassing. Loving her wasn’t something he did , exactly, it had just happened, not that he’d minded, because even though years of rejection had hurt, he’d do it all -- maybe less of the whole part where she’d called him an arrogant toe-rag and he’d deserved it, but the rest of it -- a thousand times over if it meant loving her. He’d loved Lily for so long, but he’d really never imagined her loving him. If fifteen-year-old James could hear her now…well James actually preferred not to think about what fifteen-year-old James would have done. Probably something that would make her take it back. But eighteen-year-old James was better than that. Eighteen-year-old James stared at her in disbelief and felt a bit like crying. “You do?”

“I do,” she said. “So much. I love you so much.”

He felt his face shifting from wonder and disbelief to a wide smile. “I love you so much, too,” he said and he wanted to kiss her so badly. So very badly. So he did his best to forget they were in the middle of a Transfiguration lesson -- and it looked like Lily was doing the same thing because how could they not kiss now? It was the perfect moment, if you took out McGonagall lecturing about the dangers of human transfiguration (disappearing limbs, misshapen bodies, and, in severe cases, death, James’ stupid transfiguration-oriented brain provided for him) -- and leaned forward, both of them smiling broadly as their lips met. It was everything James needed, and he felt a warmth spreading throughout his body and --

“Mr. Potter! Miss. Evans!” McGonagall’s voice cut through the moment and James and Lily snapped apart. “Absolutely unacceptable! From our Head Students! Wait outside, the both of you, I’ll deal with you in a minute.”

James and Lily happily -- and not very shame-faced -- stood up, holding hands and made for the door to the classroom. James could see Peter looking at the ceiling, Remus shaking his head, which was in his hands, and Sirius barely containing laughter.

McGonagall seemed to realise that, perhaps, sending the lovebirds to the corridor by themselves was not the best punishment. “Just a moment!” she called out. “I’ll actually be moving your seats. Potter, you’re next to Vance now; Evans next to Fletcher.”

And Transfiguration was thus ruined.

James spent the remainder of the lesson attempting to transfigure himself into Mundungus Fletcher so that he and Lily could sit together, but after he nearly cut his arm off -- they were learning about human transfiguration, so really, he felt like he was justified in his practising -- McGonagall saw what he was doing and confiscated his wand for the rest of the lesson. So he did the only thing left to do: sulk. But really, there wasn’t much to sulk about. Lily Evans loved him! She said she loved him! He had snorted with happy laughter at one point and Emma Vance had looked at him like he’d just proclaimed his love for Divination.

After he’d done it a second time, she put down the quill she’d been attempting to transfigure into a toad and looked at him. “What in the name of Merlin is so funny, Potter?”

“She loves me!” he’d said, practically whooping with joy. “She said she loves me!”

Vance had looked supremely unimpressed, and had only raised an eyebrow before turning back to her quill. James didn’t care. He didn’t care much about anything other than Lily’s voice, ringing in his ears: I love you. So much. I love you so much .

Those words were probably the only things that got him through the bloody Transfiguration lesson. All he’d wanted to do was kiss her, and hug her, and spin her around and never let go. Just live in that moment, where she’d said it forever.

When McGonagall finally released them, with a withering glance at James, who’d spent much of the lesson with a dopey grin on his face, James had made a beeline for Lily, bypassing his mates who wanted to know why exactly he and Lily had been going for a snog in the middle of Transfiguration.

“I love you,” he said, kissing her the very moment they were out of the classroom. “I love you, I love you.”

She pulled them off to the side, out of the doorway. “I love you too,” she said, kissing him again.

People were probably looking at them, snogging in the middle of the Transfiguration corridor did tend to draw attention, but neither of them cared.

“Alright,” Remus said after a few minutes.

James hadn’t known that his mates had stuck around, and whipped around. “Hi,” he said breathlessly, grinning.

“That’s enough,” Sirius said. “Now, do you two care to tell us exactly what happened in there?”

Lily and James looked at each other, wearing matching lovesick grins.

“We said it!” James said, practically squealed, really.

Sirius looked taken aback at James’... odd tone. “Said what ?”

“Love,” James said dramatically, waving a hand through around. “Is in the air.”

“Oh my God,” Remus muttered.

“It’s all around us,” James continued, “between us, within us. It’s --”

“Sweet Merlin,” Sirius said. “Enough of whatever in the everlasting bloody hell that was. Are we meant to guess that this means you two officially love each other now?”

Lily nodded. “We do,” she said sweetly, looking at James, who smiled back at her.

“We do,” he repeated. “Very much.”

“So I suppose you’ll be even more intolerable after this, won’t you?”

“We’re never intolerable,” Lily said.

James nodded. “We’re adorable, sure, but never intolerable.”

Sirius snorted, but then his face softened. “I’m happy for you, mate,” he said, walking over to James and wrapping his arms around him.

James hugged Sirius back. As much as they ragged each other, at the end of the day, they were brothers and there truly wasn’t a person in the world James was closer to than Sirius. His mum had told them that she worried they were too codependent, but James could never really see the issue with their codependency. There was no denying that it existed, but they never planned on spending much time apart, and as long as they didn’t, there was no problem. They enjoyed each other’s company, and worked well together. They were each other’s best friends, brothers, inseparable partners in crime, and James never wanted it to change.

“I’m happy for you, too,” James said.

Sirius frowned. “Why’re you happy for me?”

James shrugged. “You’re happy, yeah?”

Sirius smiled. “Yeah.”

“Then I’m happy.”

“James, quit stealing my boyfriend,” Remus said.

James gasped dramatically and Sirius shoved his shoulder, walking to Remus and pecking him on the cheek.

“Am I the only single person here?” Peter chirped.

“Reckon so, Pete,” Sirius said, wrapping an arm around him. “You’ll get there one day.”

“Hope so,” Peter said glumly.

James wrapped an arm around Lily, still feeling giddy, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. He didn’t say anything, just enjoyed her steady touch at his side as he listened to his idiot mates bickering about anything and everything. He smiled.

*********

“Knock knock,” came a soft voice from the outside of James’ door.

They’d just gotten back from dinner, where he’d gleefully opened the presents his friends and parents had gotten him. Most of it, unsurprisingly, had been bought at Honeydukes and Zonko’s, but James would never complain about anything from a candy store or a joke shop. Lily had gotten him a personalised broom cleaning kit, along with a Muggle antler that he could put on his head. He’d liked it far too much. His parents had gotten him a new broom, which he was most definitely going to spend all of the next day flying around on (he’d read so much about it, and hadn’t exactly been surprised to unwrap it, but thrilled all the same). Now, he was sitting in his room writing a very nice letter to his parents to thank them for the broom and excitedly tell his mother about the important development in his and Lily’s relationship.

“Yeah?” he called back.

“Can I come in?”

James smiled. “Always.”

Lily entered and sat next to him on his bed. “Nice day, yeah?”

He leaned against her and smiled contentedly. “Perfect,” he hummed.

They were quiet for a few moments, simply sitting in silence, happy to enjoy each other’s company.

“Go for a walk?” Lily asked. “I want to see the stars.”

James stood up, offering a hand to Lily before picking up his Invisibility Cloak. “Have you ever known me to turn down a late night escapade, Lily Evans?”

She smiled at him. “No I have not, James Potter.”

“Well, come on then,” he said, holding the door open for her, then grabbing a bottle of Firewhisky -- yet another perk of being Head Boy: it was far easier to smuggle in substances otherwise not permitted. Breaking the rules was really much easier when he was the one meant to be enforcing them -- and following her down the stairs to the entrance of their Common Room. He slung the Cloak over the two of them, enjoying their close proximity. “Astronomy Tower?”

She nodded and James could smell the minty toothpaste on her breath under the enclosed space of the Cloak. “Best place to see the stars, don’t you think?”

He shrugged. “I’ve always liked the top of Gryffindor Tower, personally.”

Lily stared at him. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

James grinned. “Only sort of.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged. “Well, I’ve flown up there a few times at night, because it really is incredible, but then McGonagall confiscated my broom except for practices and games, and that was before we had the Map, so it was damn near impossible to get it.” He paused, frowning. “I guess I haven’t really thought of it since we made the Map. I’ve got my broom upstairs if you’re interested.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” James said. “Why not?”

Lily grinned at him. “Sounds like a pretty nice way to close out the evening.”

So, fifteen minutes later, they found themselves sitting on one of the edges of Gryffindor Tower, looking at the vast night sky above them.

It was clear, and the moon was a crescent -- which James had known even before he looked up and saw it, because what sort of friend would he be if he didn’t keep track of the lunar cycle with Remus? -- so it was the optimal time for looking at the stars.

“There’s Sirius,” James said, pointing to the brightest star in the sky.

“The dog star,” Lily said, chuckling a bit.

“The dog star,” James agreed, he opened the bottle of firewhisky with a hollow pop and took a drink before passing it to Lily.

It was cold out, being nearly midnight in the Scottish Highlands in late March, and the alcohol burned in the best way as it went down his throat.

“James,” Lily said, setting the bottle down between them.

“Hmm?”

“What do you think happens when we die?”

James startled, a bit surprised by the heavy question. “What do I think happens when we die?” he repeated dumbly.

“Yeah,” Lily said. “Like, I dunno, d’you think there’s an afterlife or something. Mum and Dad took me to church when I was a kid, but I haven’t really been since Hogwarts. I know religion in the wizarding world is…different. But…I dunno. Hard not to think about death these days.”

He silently squeezed her hand. “I don’t know what to think,” he said softly. “Mum and Dad…well, we’ve never really done…religion or whatever. I’d like to think that we all go live with all our departed loved ones in some utopia, but I really don’t know.” They were quiet for another few moments. “What do you think?”

Lily shrugged. “I don’t think I really know either. Logically, my brain would tell me we die and then there’s just --” she waved a hand vaguely through the air, taking another gulp of whisky, “-- nothing. But logically, my brain would tell me magic isn’t real, so I really don’t know.”

James hummed. “Are you scared to find out?”

She looked at him. “Is this you asking me if I’m afraid of dying?”

He shrugged.

Lily rolled her eyes. “Alright then.” She paused, considering. “I don’t think I’m scared of dying ,” she said slowly, “I’m scared of not living enough. I’m scared of not making whatever life I’ve got left count. I’m scared that when I do go, I won’t make it count. I suppose I’m scared of what comes after, too. But dying? I dunno. It’s pretty inevitable, right?”

“Fairly,” James said, his lips twitching up. “Fairly inevitable, yeah.”

“Right,” Lily said, managing a small smile. “If I…” she hesitated, “If I die, then I want it to mean something. My life, my death, I want it to do something. For someone. Something. I need it to have meaning, you know? I think that’s a lot of the reason why I want to fight. Obviously because it’s the right thing to do; something that affects me personally a great deal, too, but also because I’m so scared of not making it count; of dying, being killed, whatever, without making it count, make sense?”

James nodded, looking into her beautiful emerald eyes, shining in the dim light produced by the moon and stars. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Perfect sense.”

“Are you scared?” Lily asked. “Of dying?”

He shook his head. “You’ve said it perfectly,” he told her. “Far more eloquently than I would have, I’m sure,” he smiled at her, and she returned it. “We shouldn’t have to fight this war,” he said after another minute or so of comfortable silence, his voice barely a whisper. “But we do. And I want you to know that no matter where we are, no matter how far apart, I’m with you.” He took the hand that was holding hers and he put it over his chest. “We’re in this together, Evans. And I don’t bloody well intend on letting some blood supremacist arsehole rip us apart.”

She smiled at him, putting her head on his chest. “Neither do I, Potter.”

He smiled, looking at Sirius shining brightly above him. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too, toe rag,” she returned affectionately.

James had to laugh at that, running his fingers through her hair. He didn’t know how much longer they’d have together. Days? Weeks? Months? Years? Hours? The world was changing, and they along with it. And in that changing world, James knew nothing but her calm breathing on his chest, his heart beating against her head, their love, winding around them, above them, within them.

He didn’t know how long that love would have, but he’d take every second that this horrible, twisted universe would give them.

#jily #james potter #lily evans #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #hogwarts

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