Boiling the Tarts
by Beedaily

Rating: PG
Ship: Lily & James
Canon: Books 1 - 6
Genre: Humor, Romance
Status: In progress
Length: 2,907 words in 1 chapter
Published: 4 Aug 2006
Last updated: 4 Aug 2006

Christmas tart making gets a bit out of hand when James decides to boil his batch of dough in the fireplace.

From the Unofficial Portkey Archive: https://portkey-archive.org/story/6399/

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1. Boiling the Tarts

Author’s Notes: Boiling the Tarts was written for The Unknowable Room’s Scrivenshaft IV’s competition. A little holiday
cheer with a whole lot of mess! I hope you enjoy!

Boiling the Tarts

"One...two...three...fou—"

"No! You're not supposed to do four! You're only supposed to do three!"

James froze, the fourth full cup of sugar stopped halfway over the large bowl in front of him. "What?" he asked dumbly,
looking towards the irate redhead that was seated at the kitchen table before him. The girl sighed, rolling her eyes as
she rose from her place at the table.

"It's three cups of sugar," she explained to him slowly, pointing out the measurements on the handwritten recipe James's
mother had left them earlier that morning. "Can't you read?"

"I can read," James grumbled, shooting the pretty redhead a dirty look. He squinted down at the recipe laying on the
countertop beside him, seeing the three next to the ingredient sugar, but not believing it. When he looked back up, Lily
was staring at him with her eyebrows raised knowingly. "It said four a second ago," he muttered stubbornly, eyeing the
piece of parchment again, thinking that perhaps it would change back if he only looked hard enough. Lily rolled her eyes
again, going back to sit down at the kitchen table where she could finish writing up Christmas cards. Watching her from
behind, James stared at the extra cup of sugar, then back down at the recipe. With a small smile to himself, he raised
the cup over the bowl to pour it in anyhow, when it was suddenly forcefully removed from his hand.

"Hey!" James cried, swiping at the confiscated item, looking up at his girlfriend who had magically appeared right at
his side once more. "Give it back!"

Lily shook her head, glaring at him pointedly. "I am not going to let you ruin these tarts, James Potter!"

"I'm not going to ruin them, you madwoman!" James jumped for the cup again, only to have it easily kept away from his
grasp. He glared. "Will you quit it? You said I could make this batch!"

"Not if you're going to do it wrong!" Lily shot back, folding her arms stubbornly across her chest.

"I'm not doing it wrong!"

"You were about to add a fourth cup of sugar!"

"They're tarts," James responded dryly. "You can't have too much sugar in tarts!"

Lily let out a groan of frustration, shooting a glare over her shoulder as she moved back towards the kitchen table,
taking the measuring cup with her.

"I can just get another one out of the cabinet, you know," James informed her smugly, moving to do just that. Lily
snorted from her seat.

"Just keep your tarts away from mine," she told him, dipping her quill into the ink as she began to write another card,
random smudges of black littering her fingertips. "I'm not having my perfect tarts mixed in with the disasters you're
about to produce."

James scowled at the back of his girlfriend's head, then glowered at the perfectly set rows of Lily's cranberry and
caramel tarts cooling on the countertop behind him. He had a sudden urge to smash and ruin them all.

He didn't know how he and Lily had been roped into making all these tarts for his mother's Christmas party that was
being held early the following morning. After being forced to clean every single solitary corner of the entire Potter
estate for the past few days, James had been looking forward to today as simply a day of well-deserved rest. He'd owled
Lily early this morning, asking her if she would like to floo over and relax with him, and was utterly thrilled when she
had agreed. It was the first time Lily would be seeing the Potter's home, and for once, James wasn't bitter about the
fact that he had just spent the last four days of his Christmas holiday cleaning it.

But when Lily had arrived an hour or so later, James hadn't been the one to greet her as she shot through the fireplace
and into the Potter's impeccably clean and Christmas-clad living room. Instead, his mum had been the first to accost
her, stealing Lily away and whisking her off into the kitchen before James even had a chance to give her a proper hello.

And then somehow he had ended up here, forced to watch Lily bake batches and batches of cranberry and caramel filled
tarts for the past two hours while his mum was off in Diagon Alley with his dad picking up a few last-minutes supplies
for the party tomorrow. He'd finally grew sick of just sitting around and doing nothing, and had somehow convinced Lily
to allow him to try and make a batch of tarts of his own.

And it wasn't exactly going too smoothly.

Still scowling miserably to himself, James continued to search through the various cabinets in his kitchen for another
measuring cup, but couldn’t for the life of him find another. After a few more seconds of hopeless searching, he eyed
Lily carefully, slowly making his way over to where she was still writing, the beginnings of a plan being formed in his
mind.

"You're not getting this back," Lily informed him stubbornly, moving the cup more possessively towards her body as she
felt James approach. James smirked from behind her, knowing full well that that just wasn't going to be the case.

"I know," he lied, coming up behind her as he easily slid his hands onto either side of her, leaning over so that his
head rested near hers. His body was so close that his breath blew onto the sensitive skin of her neck. "It's just, I
realised something."

"That you're a dreadful chef?" Lily mumbled breathlessly, feeling as she always did when she was this close to
him—slightly lightheaded and full of anticipation. James chuckled softly, pressing his lips to the soft spot where her
shoulder met her neck. Lily shivered in delight.

"No," James answered quietly, his lips moving up her neck, past her ear and down her jaw line, leaving a trail of small
butterfly kisses as he went. Lily couldn't help but grin, waiting for him to get to where they both wanted him to be.
"It's just I realised that I never got to properly greet you."

"Properly greet me?" Lily turned her head to face him. "And how exactly does one go about doing that?"

James returned her soft smile, not certain what he was more excited about—snogging his girlfriend senseless, or making
her so angry afterwards that she flushed a pretty shade of red. He decided it didn't much matter, because he probably
wasn't going to have to pick or choose. "Well," he said, snaking his arms fully around Lily now and pulling her up from
her chair, pushing his length to hers. "I'd imagine it'd go something like this."

And with that, James's mouth swooped down on hers, their lips locking together with a sudden burst of electricity that
always seemed to come when they were together. His mouth moved easily over hers, and she responded with all the feeling
and sweetness that she possessed as he continued ravishing her mouth with his long and thorough kisses. Her arms came up
around his neck, her fingers playing with his already messy strands of raven hair, pulling his body more tightly against
hers, aching for that sense of joy and closeness that only seemed to come when she was tangled up with him. James
circled his hands more firmly around her waist in response, pulling her even closer.

Beneath her mouth, James's lips curved into a small smile as he slowly began backing her up against the kitchen table.

By the time Lily had realised that one of his hands had gone missing from her back—and the pieces of the puzzle began to
fit together—James had already broken away, a large smile on his lips and the previously confiscated cup of sugar
residing in his hand.

He'd tricked her.

"You're a dirty rotten arse," Lily muttered angrily, trying to glare but finding it difficult when the feeling of his
lips pressed so completely against her own was still fresh in her mind. James grinned mischievously at her half-hearted
crossness.

"A bloke's got to do what a bloke's got to do," he responded lightly, pressing another quick kiss to her lips. Lily
pulled a face and swiped at her mouth, pretending to wipe off the kiss James had just planted there. James gave her a
mockingly sad face.

"Oh, now don't do that," he teased her softly, his eyes gleaming behind the thin frames of his glasses. He leaned in
closer, whispering before he kissed her once more, "That just means I have to do it again."

"Hmm," Lily hummed in agreement, her lips separating from his. "Pity."

James pulled away, going back around the counter, a large grin on his face and the cup of sugar still held tightly in
his hand. Unceremoniously, he dumped the cup's contents into the large mixing bowl. Lily winced.

"You're ruining them," she protested weakly, knowing it was really no use to fight it anymore; the tarts were already
ruined. James puffed out his shoulders haughtily.

"Au contraire," he announced with a flourish, brandishing a mixing spoon as he began blending the contents of his bowl
together. "They're going to be bloody spectacular—the best tarts in the bunch." He grinned foolishly at her. "Try not to
be jealous, will you?"

Lily snorted, watching as he added far too much cranberry sauce and even more caramel into his disaster of a mixing
bowl. She watched as the Potter's tabby cat, Maxie, jumped on top of the counter and made his way over to where James
was concocting his tarts. The feline took one waft of the stuff and stalked away, looking offended that it even be
placed in his presence. Lily stifled a laugh.

"I think this needs to be boiled," James decided a few moments later, looking at the gooey concoction he had just
created with a curious, thoughtful look. Lily groaned.

"It does not need to be boiled, James. It's supposed to be doughy. It's not supposed to be a liquid, as I see yours
already is." She eyed the bowl carefully, not hiding her smug smile as she took in the mass of mess that resided inside.
"Perhaps you should have listened to someone who is obviously so much more intelligent and so much more experienced than
you are in such things, hm?"

James shot her a dirty look, grabbing the bowl with the unidentifiable substance and motioning to his cat, who was still
lounging about lazily on the countertop. "Come on, Maxie," he said, still glaring at Lily. "Let's go."

"Go where?" Lily asked with a laugh, watching as James made his way stomping past her and into the living room, mixing
bowl in hand and two other large bowls containing the cranberry sauce and the caramel charmed to float behind him. Also
floating drunkenly behind him drifted a very angry looking Maxie the cat.

"To boil my tarts!" James called from the living room, and Lily heard the unmistakable sound of a fire beginning to
brew.

"In the fireplace?" Lily cried, abandoning her Christmas cards on the kitchen table and rushing into the living room,
holding back a groan as she spotted James down on his hands and knees, poking a fire into a proper flame under a small
black cauldron in his fireplace. Lily rolled her eyes, stepping up behind him and giving him a light tap in the bum with
her foot. James grunted, but otherwise ignored her.

"This is a bad idea," she told him matter-of-factly, watching as he continued to poke at the fire.

"Leave me alone," James muttered darkly, determined to get the flame just right. Lily rolled her eyes again, plopping
herself down onto the sofa behind him, content to just watch James as he struggled to get the fire to reach a roaring
blaze.

A few minutes later, the fire was built to James's liking, and throwing another dark look her way, James brusquely
deposited the entire contents of his mixing bowl into the small cauldron. Lily winced as the mixture began to make a
peculiar bubbling sound. Finally being let down from his floating state—and sensing the dangers that laid where he
stood—Maxie also quickly retreated back to the sofa, growling menacingly at his master as Lily began to pet his soft
fur.

As James continued muttering quietly to himself, watching his mixture rise and fall and make noises that probably
weren't the healthiest of sorts, Lily took out the time to scan the rest of the Potter's charming, Christmas-filled
living room.

She and James had been dating since early October, but this was the first time she'd had a chance to actually come to
his home. The Potter's estate was large and luxurious, but somehow also managed to keep that warm, homey feeling within
its high ceilings and elegantly decorated rooms. The living room itself was something to be awed; not only just for its
immense size, but also for the brilliant way the Christmas spirit seemed to shine from each and every corner. Various
Christmas cards were kept upon the mantle of the fireplace James was currently working at and long reefs of evergreen
and holly littered the walls and banisters. The chandelier that hung from the ceiling let off a soft glow as the
Christmas tree in the corner shone brightly for all to see, the angel-like tree topper singing softly to "Hark! The
Herald Angels Sing" from her place atop the tree. Lily sighed contently, taking it all in. It really was such a
beautiful house. And, she reminded herself, a faint blush glowing on her cheeks, she didn't much mind the company
either.

She didn't know how it had happened, and all so quickly as well. One second, she couldn't stand James Potter and the
next, she couldn't stand to be without him. Her mates all teased her ferociously about it—about him—but Lily hardly
cared anymore. James was just...well, she really didn't know what he was. He certainly wasn't perfect—as was obvious
from his lame attempts to boil his Christmas tart dough—but then again, perhaps he was. Or he was perfect for her
anyway, and she supposed that was all that really mattered. Looking at him now, still down on his hands and knees,
moodily stirring the cranberry sauce and the caramel, Lily couldn't help but smile...

That is, until she realised just what he intended to do with that caramel and cranberry sauce.

"Don't put anything else in there," Lily warned, nodding her head towards the nearly overflowing cauldron. James stole a
glance back at her.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because it'll overflow, that's why." Lily eyed the cauldron uncertainly. She heard James snort, and then, despite what
she had warned him—and because, even though he may be perfect for her, he could really be just the biggest dolt
sometimes—James completely disregarded what she had to say and began to pour the two bowls into his cauldron.

"James! No—"

BOOM!

Lily dove down onto the couch, hiding her face in the cushions as she suddenly felt herself being sprayed with what she
could only assume was the previous contents of James's cauldron. Lifting her eyes hesitantly from the cushions, trying
to ignore the sudden sticky feeling on her clothes and in her hair, Lily glanced upwards, a sudden large groan escaping
her mouth as she took in the aftereffects of the explosion.

The living room was ruined.

"Holy Merlin, Maxie's tail is on fire!"

Lily's head swung over to where Maxie the cat was now frantically prancing across the fireplace mantle, her tail indeed
flaming with bright orange embers.

"Aguamenti!" Lily shouted, unleashing water onto the burning cat, but knowing that the damage had already been done. The
Christmas cards previously sitting atop the mantle had been carelessly pushed off and now seemed to be slightly charred
as well. The cat was also looking more than a little displeased.

Lily couldn't force herself to look back at the rest of the room.

The cranberries and the caramel were everywhere.

"Oh, shit," James muttered, and Lily could only nod her head in agreement. From out of the cauldron still smoking in the
fireplace, the curious smell of cinnamon swept through the air.

"Cinnamon?" Lily questioned.

James shrugged. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

Lily let out a helpless giggle, not sure of what else to do at that point. Still afraid to look completely around the
room, Lily had to content herself with just looking up at the ceiling, watching as large globs of cranberry hung down
from the crystals on the chandelier.

"How long exactly before your parents get home?" Lily asked, her eyes not moving from the ceiling.

"Er, not for a while. Hours," James answered.

Lily sighed heavily, her eyes straying down from the ceiling for the first time, moving straight on down to a very
pained-looking James. She smiled at him grimly and rolled up her sleeves.

If this wasn't love, she really didn't know what was.

"I hope you know your Cleaning Charms, Potter. This is going to be a long afternoon."
