Lily Evans (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lilium_evansiae) wrote2011-12-22 10:54 am
lilium_evansiae) wrote2011-12-22 10:54 am
Great Hall, 6 January 1977
Even after two months of Officially Dating, Lily and James don't eat many meals together. After all, he has his friends and she has hers, and there's such a thing as too much togetherness. But some days he joins her friends, and some days he joins hers, and some days they eat by themselves -- or at least as by themselves as they can at a table with the rest of their House.
On the morning of 6 January -- the day after the full moon -- Lily comes down to the Common Room with her roommates and finds James waiting by the portrait hole, no sign of the other Marauders. "All right?" he greets them, and then, more directly to Lily and with a very Jamesish smile, "Breakfast?"
Lily nods. "Yeah." Breakfast with James sounds good. "I'll see you later," she tells her friends, and she and James wait until they've gone on ahead.
James looks absolutely knackered. And that makes perfect sense -- unlike her, he probably hasn't slipped off to Milliways for a post-full-moon nap. But she can't quite believe she's never noticed it before, that James looks exhausted every month at the full moon, just when Remus is "ill." Is he not making as much effort to bother to conceal it from her, since she knows where he's been all night and what he's been doing? Or was she just not paying as much attention as she perhaps should have been?
Lily reaches out to take his hand, and they start for the Great Hall. "How did last night go?" she asks.
She won't -- can't -- ask more specifically than that.
But she will ask that much.
On the morning of 6 January -- the day after the full moon -- Lily comes down to the Common Room with her roommates and finds James waiting by the portrait hole, no sign of the other Marauders. "All right?" he greets them, and then, more directly to Lily and with a very Jamesish smile, "Breakfast?"
Lily nods. "Yeah." Breakfast with James sounds good. "I'll see you later," she tells her friends, and she and James wait until they've gone on ahead.
James looks absolutely knackered. And that makes perfect sense -- unlike her, he probably hasn't slipped off to Milliways for a post-full-moon nap. But she can't quite believe she's never noticed it before, that James looks exhausted every month at the full moon, just when Remus is "ill." Is he not making as much effort to bother to conceal it from her, since she knows where he's been all night and what he's been doing? Or was she just not paying as much attention as she perhaps should have been?
Lily reaches out to take his hand, and they start for the Great Hall. "How did last night go?" she asks.
She won't -- can't -- ask more specifically than that.
But she will ask that much.
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Albeit a tired one, but still a smile.
"As routine as it can be," he says, running a (free)hand through his hair. "Nothing terribly exciting."
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This is one area of his life in which his girlfriend would like as little excitement as possible.
"You look like you need a cup of tea.
"Or twelve."
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"Twelve sounds brilliant right about now," he says. "But I'll settle for one and maybe a stack of toast."
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She can't quite approve.
(She worries, and James might as well get used to it.)
"Not eggs or sausages or kippers or bacon or something slightly more filling?"
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James laughs, shifting a little so he can hold Lily around the waist, rather than just hold her hand.
Even at the risk of a professor telling them off for 'public displays of affection'.
"You're starting to sound like my mum."
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Then she looks up at him again.
"Though that doesn't mean I'm not right about this."
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Because Merlin's Beard, if Lily isn't the most adorable girl in the world —
"Why don't you tell me exactly whatever you think I should have."
He's ... admittedly a little too exhausted to think beyond tea + toast right now.
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"We'll see what Milty sends up," Lily says.
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"Blimey, no. I do draw the line at feeding. Sirius, of course, doesn't."
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(Actually, she could probably give him a list.)
From up ahead, she can just hear the voices of their fellow students as they get closer to the Great Hall.
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As they get to the Great Hall, he lets go of her to take her hand again.
(After all, professors eat breakfast too.)
"I hope you got some sleep last night," he says conversationally as they cross the threshold.
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Last night, this morning, at the end of the universe, all the same difference, right?
"Certainly more than you got.
"C'mon, tea," she says, taking a seat at the Gryffindor table that's about midway between where his roommates are sitting and where hers are.
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He nods in Remus and Peter's direction, but notes that Sirius is being his usual ridiculously sulky self, worsened by the fact that none of them had any sleep last night.
James resists the urge to sigh.
He just takes his seat beside Lily and dreams of delicious things like tea and eggs and toast ... which inevitably leads to images of warm, cozy fireplaces and cuddling with Lily.
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Lily surveys the dishes sent up this morning my Milty and his fellow houseeleves, and then pushes appropriate plates and platters toward James.
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Honestly, staying up all night really develops a rather voracious appetite.
He picks up his silverware and starts at it.
Merlin, these houseelves really know how to cook.
And Lily? Lily is, as usual, amazing.
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Lily turns her attention to her own breakfast, or at least starts to, before one of the dozens of arriving owls drops a letter onto her plate.
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He swallows a forkful of sausage.
"From home?" he inquires curiously.
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"See, you can always tell a letter from my dad by the address," she says, holding the envelope out to him.
Just below the line that says Hogwarts School are lines reading Parts Unknown and Here Be Dragons.
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"Your dad's clever," he says. "A bit cheeky too, I see."
He can see where Lily gets it.
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James remembers that, right? From their meeting?
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He passes the letter back to Lily just as Sebastian Edeson, the new Beater for Gryffindor's team, comes up to him.
"Potter," he says by way of greeting. Then he frowns. "Captain, you're looking a bit peaky. All right?"
James nods. "Yeah, I'm fine. What's up?"
... this about the time the two boys start talking about their upcoming practice.
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When James does turn his attention back to his girlfriend, he may find her frowning rather hard at her father's letter.
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A moment later, James is peering over Lily's shoulder, not actually looking at the letter in her hands, but pretending to be nosy about it.
That's when he notices her frown.
"Bad news, Lily?"
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"Definitely unexpected."
She hands the letter over to James.
"Last paragraph."
The one that reads:
Sorry this is shorter than usual, but we're expecting Harold and Florence Potter any minute, and your mum needs help in the kitchen with something involving Yorkshire puddings gone dreadfully awry. Sounds exciting! I'll write again soon. Dad.
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When that doesn't work, he takes his glasses off, cleans them, then puts them back on before rereading the letter.
No, the result is still the same.
"... your dad doesn't seriously mean my parents, does he?
"My parents very, very rarely leave the Wizarding World."
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"I'm pretty sure he does. I don't think we know any other Potters, and even if my parents know some I don't ... well, it'd be a hell of a coincidence on the names, wouldn't it?"
Lily looks down at the letter again.
"I think our parents had dinner together last night."
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"Blimey.
"Our parents.
"Having dinner.
"Together."
He rubs his face, glasses going askew.
"They probably told each other the most embarrassing stories about us."
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"And my parents probably brought out pictures to illustrate them."
Oh, dear.
"Your parents really don't leave the Wizarding world much?"
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"They actually don't know very many Muggles. Especially given the current climate, it's a bit difficult to get to know many."
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"That's amazing, James.
"Completely terrifying, when you consider the stories they were probably trading, but ... amazing."
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He takes another sip of his tea.
"So what is Milton like?"
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"It's a Northern manufacturing city, a little fallen on hard times, maybe, these days, but that's hardly unique to Milton, is it? There's a river, and mills, and shops and schools and all the things you get in a city.
"Mum and Dad have a little house with a little garden on a street full of little houses with little gardens.
"It's kind of hard to describe. I guess you'll just have to come and visit some time."
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He smiles.
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"I've lived there for a few years since learning that, too, you know," she says, cheerfully, and refills James' teacup.
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"Right," he says amusedly, watching her refill his cup with a fair amount of fondness. "Of course."
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"After all, they could be conspiring all sorts of things now. Think of the trouble they could get themselves into.
"Think of the trouble they could get us into."
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"Would your parents start owling mine?"
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James laughs.
"Despite the things they'd likely write to each other, I rather like the idea of them corresponding.
"Is that bad?"
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"It's probably even good."
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"I think so," he says.
It shows that even if some blood-purity parties may think they're in power, they're really ... really not.
"... now d'you think you could you pass me another piece of toast, please?"
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And then passes him another slice of toast.
Or three.
(They're small.)