im-drunk-on-daydreams:

whatever you do don’t think about james potter facing the most dangerous wizard alive without a wand, to try and give his wife and their son the tiniest chance. don’t think about him yelling out what he knows will be his last words to them. don’t think about lily listening to her husband die and screaming out for both him and the fact that he’s here and he’s going to kill her and harry. don’t think about harry believing his parents were playing a game and that they’d wake up soon and laugh. 

whatever you do don’t think about harry james potter, sixteen years later at christmas, staring at the graves of his parents, the closest he had been to them in years. wishing more than anything in the world to be buried with them.

stuckwith-harry:

you: happy halloween

me, an intellectual: happy jily dying day

alrightevans:

- the important transition between ‘potter’ and ‘james’
- james’s growth spurt the summer before 7th year
- being forced to be potions partners against their will + discovering they actually work well together
- when they go on their first hogsmeade date just as ‘‘’mates’’’
- the mysterious 7th year heads of house dorm 

herhmione:

“It’ll be fun!” Marlene promises, thrusting the pamphlet at her. “Please! If a third person comes, we get half off the class.”

Lily rolls her eyes, plucking the pamphlet out of Marlene’s hand and throwing it in the corner of the room. It lands on a stack of dirty clothes that Lily’s been neglecting for what looks like weeks, but is probably only a few days. “I don’t do yoga, Marlene.”

Yoga and Lily are perhaps the two most opposite things in the world. Like ice cream and potatoes. Or apples and artichokes.

Lily Evans is not relaxed. She does not wake up early in the morning. She is about as flexible as a metal rod, hates sweating, and would rather wear a paper bag than workout clothes. Yoga, she thinks, would run from Lily with it’s tail between it’s legs.

But Marlene McKinnon is nothing if not persuasive, and so Sunday morning, Lily finds herself waiting by the door, clad in leggings, a rather unnecessarily complicated strapped sports bra, a zip up hoodie, and a scowl. She taps her foot impatiently, about to yell into the apartment until Mary bursts out of her bedroom, her hair half in a bun, looking as if she just rolled out of bed.

“I’m so glad you’re coming, Lil,” she exclaims, sticking a piece of toast in her mouth.

“You’re just glad you’re getting a discount.” Lily retorts. Her eyes feel heavy, and she thinks that if they aren’t out of the door in two minutes, she’ll fall asleep right there in the entrance hallway. The clock in the living room reads 7:40 am, a good three hours before Lily would even think of being awake on a Sunday,

Mary shrugs. “That too. But seriously, thanks. We’ll make it up to you! Your post-yoga smoothie’s on us.”

“I want coffee,” Lily protests. If she’s being forced to wake this early, the least she wants is caffeine.

“Coffee,” Marlene rebutes, appearing in the hall, “is not a post-yoga drink. We’re trying to purify ourselves, not add in toxins.”

“I’ll have you know that coffee is one of the major food groups,” Lily replies, only half joking.

Marlene just rolls her eyes, and the three girls exit their apartment, opting for the stairs rather than the shaky elevator, which seems to have an annoying habit of getting stuck at the most inopportune times.

Marlene and Mary go to yoga every Sunday, 8:00am sharp, bright eyed and ready, looking as if they came straight out of a Lululemon catalog. They look the type, too - athletic, constantly in workout gear, always on some vegan food diet. Lily doesn’t know how they stand to be so cheery in the morning, and it takes all her energy to keep up with them as they practically bounce down the street, looking as if the bright morning air has given them a high.

She must look a sorry sight, trailing behind them. She doesn’t have an ounce of makeup on (as if she was going to wake up an extra twenty minutes early for that just to sweat it all off at the class), her eyes are definitely red with lack of sleep, her hair is uncombed and swept into a rather messy (and not in a good way) side-braid, and her every movement looks as stiff and tired as she feels. Still, she did promise she’d come. And Lily Evans doesn’t back down on promises.

They arrive at the studio soon - it’s bright and all metal and glass and looks as if it costs a million dollars. Marlene checks them all in together, stopping a moment to make sure that the amount they pay reflects the discount, and then leads them into the room.

It’s larger than it looked from the outside, but perhaps that’s just the mirrors that line the entire room, reflecting back the already filling floor as people lay out yoga mats and set down water bottles, the atmosphere chatty and lively. Mary hands Lily an extra mat and gestures for her to spread it out next to hers. Marlene stands on the other side of Mary.

“Look, Lil. Just think of it this way,” she says, grinning. “There’s always a ton of hot guys, if you get bored.”

Lily just laughs, feeling a little guilty about being in such an off-putting mood. After all, this is something that her two best friends love. And she’s already here - there’s no use sulking and making the situation even worse. And so she plasters a smile on her face, attempts to pinch some color in her cheeks, and waits for the instructor to show.

“Hey, excuse me, but can I put my mat down here?”

Lily turns to see a man looking at her expectantly and does a double take. He doesn’t look like the type of man to do yoga - for one, he’s fit, like, athlete fit, and looks as if he spends his spare time running or doing push-ups or making out with girls at parties. In short, he’s more than attractive. His eyes are a murky sort of golden-brown, partially hidden by glasses and a mop of hair that just edges on the side of sloppy but somehow manages to look windswept and purposeful. He’s wearing a dri-fit tank top and basketball shorts and looks like he should be at the gym, not the yoga studio.

He’s still looking at her, a little confused now, so Lily hastily nods. “Yeah, no problem.” She can feel a sharp nudge in her side from Mary, who’s no doubt grinning at Lily’s luck (Mary, Lily thinks, is much too invested in other people’s relationships), and Lily shoots her a glare before taking a seat on her mat.

The man next to her sits down on his too, turning towards her. “So, I haven’t seen you here before.”

“Yeah, I was dragged,” Lily explains, trying not to sound too bitter. “For the -,”\

“Discount, yeah.” He chuckles, running a hand through his hair, making it even messier than before. “I tried to get two of my friends to come, but they said, and I quote, ‘Yoga is for girls and men who like fruit cocktails.”

At this, Lily laughs. “What the hell?”

“Yeah, they’re idiots.”

“So, which one are you?” Lily jokes.

“Oh, I quite enjoy fruit cocktails,” he quips back, flashing her a grin. Lily laughs, something fluttering in her stomach.

“Really, though. No offense, but you don’t seem the type to, well, you know -,”

“Be at yoga? I’m not, to be honest. But I’m also stressed as hell. And my cousin runs the class. So here I am.”

Said cousin appears a second later, taking her place at the front of the room, and Lily turns away from the man and to the instructor, who starts out the class with so many stretches that Lily feels like a limp noodle at the end.

The yoga itself isn’t as bad as Lily thought - it’s quiet and calming, and while she usually wouldn’t associate herself with those two words, it feels nice to slow down and relax. In fact, Lily finds herself enjoying the class.

“Alright, the next exercises we’ll be doing are partner ones, so everyone find someone near you to partner with,” the instructor says, her voice cheery and bright and too loud for 8:30 in the morning.

Lily turns to her left, but Mary and Marlene are looking at her with conspiratorial grins, arms linked. Mary gives her a little wink, and Lily can feel her face flushing as she turns to the man to her right. He’s looking at her with an amused expression growing across his face, eyes sparkling.

“I guess we’re partners, then.” he says, holding back a laugh.

“Yeah. Guess so.”

The positions start out fairly innocent, only the occasional hand hold, and Lily’s almost gotten comfortable when she hears the instructor say, “Alright, this next one’s going to be a little harder and require a little more trust on both of your parts.”  She demonstrates it with her own partner - another yoga instructor - and Lily goes slack jawed.

No way.

The instructor - Helen, her name tag reads - lays with her back on the ground, legs up, perpendicular to her body. Her partner’s back rests on the soles of Helen’s feet, and her upper body stretches down so that her and Helen’s faces are mere inches away from each other.

Lily thinks she hears Mary snort, and she turns to see the girl giving her a gigantic grin.

Next to her, the man’s eyebrows jump into his hair, and he turns to her. There’s a small flush running up his neck - it’s kind of adorable, actually, and Lily feels her heart give a little stutter.

“Think we can pull that off?” He asks.

Lily nods, feeling her cheeks become red. Whatever amicable feelings she had towards yoga are gone now, replaced by dread, embarrassment, and a little (only a little) bit of anticipation.

After all, there are worse looking partners she could have.

It takes a few tries, and there are many a face plant on the yoga mat. Lily finds herself laughing as she falls for a fourth time, her head ramming into his chest. His hands are still on her waist, no longer steadying her but just there, and a little breath rushes out of her as he chuckles. She can feel the vibrations of his chest against her head and back.

They finally get it on their seventh try, and Lily grins at her partner as she looks at his face upside down, the soles of his feet digging into her lower back. He grins back.

Their lips are inches apart. So close, that if Lily wanted to, she could close the gap in a second. And part of her does want to - he’s cute and funny and smells really good (like mint and sandalwood and chocolate) - but she’s never been the most forward when it comes to the opposite sex, so she just hangs there as his laugh fades away.

He looks at her with an odd expression in his eyes. “So, I think two people in this compromising of a situation should know each other’s names, don’t you? I’m James.”

“Lily,” she replies, a smile growing on her lips. James. The name suits him.

“Well, Lily. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” He gives her a grin that lights up his eyes, and Lily almost loses her balance. “So what about lunch? On me?”

“Are you asking me on a date?” She jokes. “Because I don’t think it’s quite fair to ask a girl out when you have the power to drop her on her ass if she says no.”

He just gives her a little smirk. “It can be a date, if you want it to be.”

She pauses. This is spontaneous. It’s quite un-Lily like, but then again, this entire morning has been. And Lily finds that she sort of likes being un-Lily like. So she nods.

“Yeah, guess it’s a date.”

poppypomfrey:

hc that james and lily get so good at loving each other that they actually don’t know how to be with anyone else:

• say that. like. at some point after they’ve left school. they get in a real big fight over something stupid
  
• ‘REGULAR DIGESTIVES ARE NOT BETTER THAN THE CHOCOLATE COATED ONES’ ‘YES THEY ARE, JAMES’
  
• and somehow they end up at the conclusion that they need to take a break
• ‘well, do you want to date other people’ ‘sure’ ‘no problem’ ‘fine’ ‘cool’ ‘awesome’
  
• and five minutes later james is despairing into a bottle of firewhiskey and sirius is telling him that he’s an idiot
• and lily is over at marlene’s and she can’t seem to stop repeating the words ‘what the fuck. what the f’
• basically they both work themselves into a stupor and end up spending several nights at bars and clubs trying to get themselves a date
• sirius takes james to one and sits in the back with his head in his hands because james has completely lost it
• he has to keep ushering girls away from himself to concentrate on what james is saying
• and it’s a whole lot of ‘uhh do you like…quidditch? ‘quidditch.’ ‘i like quidditch.’ ‘have you ever played quidditch before?’ ‘these bar crackles are stale’
• and all he can think about is how this girl isn’t lily and how she’s totally different and doesn’t hold herself in the same way and doesn’t look like her or sound like her and he doesn’t like it
• but the girl doesn’t mind bc this james potting fellow is handsome af
• they end up making out in the back of the bar for two hours
• and james doesn’t mind
• but like
• it’s not the same
• and he forgets
• he forgets how to do this
• he forgets that only lily likes it when he bites slightly on the underside of her jaw or loosens his grip around her waist or rests his cheek against hers’
• he forgets that only lily likes muggle tv shows and shitty romance novels and fresh daisies and he makes assumptions
• and he doesn’t know what to do
• and it’s not the same
• across town lily has been dragged to several shitty cafes and groups and classes and she hates it
• the only good thing abt it is that there are so many cute girls at the baking sessions and the movie nights but they’re all straight and lily ends up a disgruntled mess with red cheeks and marlene and mary end up looking at each other like ‘this is a fucking stupid idea’
• but then at this one little village shop she meets this lanky boy who wears tweed blazers and has spiky, caramel coloured hair and sea-green eyes who introduces himself as seth
• and she’s taken aback bc he’s cute and he’s nice and he likes books
• he takes her out and she has dinner with him and he’s a little awkward and endearing
• but he’s not as capable as james
• his hands don’t quite fit around her the way james’s do
• and lily forgets
• she forgets that only james likes the smell of the extra-soft washing powder and he listens to the bee-jees when he thinks she isn’t watching and he’s scared of learning how to drive a manual
• she forgets that he likes it when she straddles his hips and bops her nose against his and presses kisses along his jawline
• she forgets
• and it’s not the same
• and basically neither of them last more than a two months and it takes all of their strength and self-preservation bc they’re both stubborn and childish af
• but then there’s a cutesy dinner party that mary and marlene host completely inconspicuously and very subtly forget to mention to either james or lily that the other will be there and so james wears his shirtsleeves rolled up with dress pants and forgets to muss his hair and wears the same aftershave he always does and lily has her hair soft and wears a dress where the cotton is fraying slightly and paints her lips red
• and she walks in from the kitchen
• and he walks in from the front door
• and there are fairy lights strung all across the living room and mary is playing swanky jazz and the fire is going and sirius is making several crude and unnecessary remarks
• and they stop
• and lily has to turn away for a second
• the dinner is stunted and quiet and brash
• the food is nice and the conversation is stilted but james can’t quite stop looking at lily and lily can’t quite stop giving sideways glances at james and biting her lip
• she ends up standing in front of the fire, just looking into the flames
• and he musters up all the courage he has and goes to stand beside her
• and instead of saying something measured and meaningful all that comes out is ‘you have lipstick on your teeth’
• and lily looks at him completely shocked and her eyes widen and then she starts laughing
• ‘james what the fuck i haven’t seen you in two months and the first thing you say to me is you have lipstick on your teeth’
  
• and he starts smiling
• but the moment splinters and breaks
• and lily looks at him with the most strained and heartbroken expression
• they look at each other for a full thirty seconds before they walk silently down the hall and into the broom closet outside the kitchen
• she switches the light on and he locks the door and she starts pacing and he sits down on an upturned box and she bursts out with ‘ok. ok. i can’t do this anymore.’
• and he looks up at her with something really harsh and unrestrained in his eyes and says ‘thank fuck’
• and then he’s kissing her
• and it’s all tongue and teeth and messy and yet completely the way it was meant to be because they fit
• his hands fit perfectly around her waist and her legs end up straddling his hips and he manages to sneak in kisses around her neck and she loops her hands around his shoulders and presses her lips to his jawline and they fit
• they work
• and by the time they stumble
• stumble
• out of the closet
• and everyone’s in the living room looking at them and smiling quietly
• and lily’s hair is disheveled and james’s shirt isn’t buttoned properly and she’s flushed and now james is the one with lipstick on his teeth
• and then sirius says ‘i think that went rather well, if you ask me’
• and lily laughs and james calls sirius a fuckface
• ‘well, it worked, didn’t it?’
  
• james and lily leave holding hands and drive home together
• and the night is dark outside and lit by the street lights and the beatles are playing softly on the radio
• and neither of them can stop smiling
• ‘ok but chocolate covered digestives really are better than regular ones’
  
• ‘oh for fUCKS SAKE JAMES’