Lily In The Sky With Diagon Alleys

Rating: PG-13 for implied (albeit unintentional) drug use, adult language, and adult situations. Parental discretion is advised. This rating has been scaled back from an “R” based on the MPAA guidelines.

Title: Lily In The Sky With Diagon Alleys

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters, settings, and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling as published by, including and not limited, to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. The use of these characters and settings is for entertainment purposes only; no infringement is intended or should be inferred.

Additionally, this work of fan fiction does not in any way condone, support, nor encourage the use of so-called recreational drugs. It is merely a work of fan fiction and the portrayal within is intended for the hopeful amusement of the reader. For the brownie recipe, please contact Ms. Nymphadora Tonks, the executrix of estate of Mr. Ted Tonks and Mrs. Andromeda Black-Tonks.

Spoiler Alert: The old brown shoe of Books 1—5.

Summary: “You...berks should know better than to eat anything that Tonks has cooked up! Honestly! How thick can you be?”

Pairings: James/Lily

Author’s Notes: This isn’t pants bad, but it is bad. And it’s totally pointless to boot. I’ve seen many a fic on PK that have our favourite characters getting sloshed, tanked, pickled, blotto, smashed, plastered, drunk, (and yes, I even wrote one of them), but I have not yet come across one that has the characters getting unintentionally…lit up. I didn’t see anything against it in the PK guidelines, so, here goes.

Thanks to gabriella for pointing out the rating – I wouldn’t have checked and reconsidered otherwise.

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LILY IN THE SKY WITH DIAGON ALLEYS

[] OR, NEVER TRUST A DOMESTICATED TONKS

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“Which...of you sodding bastards...put a sock on my tongue and, pray tell, for the love of Morgana’s left fanny...why?”

There was a snicker from Sirius Black’s left.

“You are insane, man.”

He mock scowled at James Potter. “That’s as maybe. And that is not my point. My point is...”

“...a bit limp right now, mate.” Remus Lupin pointed, batted his eyelashes at Sirius, and blew him a kiss.

Sirius’ mouth hung slack and he gasped. “HOW DARE YOU. OOH, YOU BEAST, DON’T LOOK AT ME AND MINE LIKE I AM A - A - A - A SLICE OF PUMPKIN PIE!” Sirius panted melodramatically and wound himself into a ball on the wing chair, staging an ersatz attempt at modesty.

“Pumpkin pie. Now that’s a thought. Hmm, here, Jamie, pass us some of that Devon cream...I needs it for Siri...”

“Ooh, that is a thought, you are a genius, Remmy, darling...Siri, don’t squirm away from us like that, love...”

“YOU NUTTERS STAY BACK! I’M WARNING YOU!” Sirius crawled to a kneeling position in the wing chair and brandished a bit of half-gnawed rope candy before him. Remus and James started to lackadaisically move in the direction of the wing chair. Sirius’ eyes widened and he pointed (as much as one could manage to point rope candy) his weapon of choice at them. “TAKE THAT!” He performed a sad flick of the rope candy. “AND THAT!” Another sad flick.

At this point Peter Pettigrew, chortling boisterously, rolled off of the back of sofa, and landed with a loud and pulpy thud.

James, Remus, and Sirius stopped and turned to stare at the vacant sofa back and blinked.

The Common Room was still for a moment.

Then Pettigrew popped up from behind the sofa and held his arms over his head as if he were in some victorious pose: “I’m okay!” And then he wobbled and promptly fell back down.

All four of them started giggling in hysterics. Tears streamed down their grinning and sniggering faces. Sirius turned his face to bury it in the crook of the wing chair. James’ glasses were liberally flecked with his tears. Remus had a death hold on the table before the fire, attempting to remain upright. The sound of Peter’s cackling rose from behind the sofa.

The four Marauders’ insane laughter was soon following by their shushing of one another. Loudly. While snickering.

Suddenly, Lupin stopped shushing and laughing. He cleared his throat and announced, “The volume of our shushing negates the intended effects of said shushing,” in a sombre tone.

His three mates immediately sobered. Potter, Pettigrew, and Black all took turns blinking blankly at Lupin.

“Bugger,” said Potter.

“Blimey,” said Pettigrew.

“Balls to that,” said Black.

“I am brilliant,” proclaimed Lupin, who then started tittering madly.

His friends immediately followed suit.

When the giggling died down again, the four boys sighed in unison.

“What was I talking about?” asked Black. “It was rather important. Staggering stuff. Of significance to all Wizarding kind. I should command one of you to take notes.”

On hearing this, Lupin and Potter simultaneously gave Black the fingers.

Pettigrew dragged himself up from off of the floor and clambered onto the back of the sofa. “Erm...I think it had to do with feet.” He lost his balance and fell forward into the sofa cushions, displacing Potter, who had been sprawled on the couch. As Pettigrew rolled onto the cushions, Potter rolled off and onto the floor.

“Oof! Dammit, Peter!” Potter was on his back, staring at the chandelier. “Ow...I think me back is broke...” He made painful looking, spasmodic movements with his legs.

“Sorry!” Pettigrew dragged a cushion across his face and cackled into it. “Howf aref yeh gohnna plahy Middithch?” he shouted through the cushion.

Black started guffawing at them. “NEVER MIND ALL THAT, WORMTAIL WAS AFTER A BIT OF RUMPY PUMPY!” he howled, curling up in the armchair.

“How dare you! I was not, you prat...but I was after a grope.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Potter.

Potter’s face twisted into a parody of outrage. “No! Pettigrew, you fiend! I trusted you!” Potter clasped his hands to his chest and feigned a collapse. He lay sprawled on the rug, arms and legs akimbo.

Lupin perked up at this. “S’he dead?” he asked, eyes wide and bright.

“Erm...” Pettigrew took the cushion he had been laughing into and he bunged it at Potter’s midsection. Potter didn’t move. “Oh dear...”

“OOOH, WORMY BROKE HIM,” Black hissed in a stage whisper. “I’m telling.”

“You are never going to tell. There’s no one to tell anyways.” Pettigrew stuck a tongue out.

“I’d tell...Evans.” Black returned the gesture.

Pettigrew sucked in quick breath. He appeared to be frightened by the suggestion. “You would not, Padfoot.” His voice was filled with dread.

He grinned widely at Pettigrew, showing the smaller boy all of his teeth in the process. “Want to dare me, Wormtail?”

“No.”

“Hrmph. Pansy.”

“Well, yes.”

“S’he still dead?” asked Lupin in a voice louder than what he had intended.

“Who?” replied Black.

“Prongs.”

“Oh. Lemme check.” Black took his bit of rope candy and flung it at Potter’s head. It landed on his glasses with a soft ‘thwack’ and slowly relaxed to drape itself across and over the lenses.

Potter still didn’t move.

“Bugger,” said Lupin in a flat voice. “I s’pose this means I shall be pressed to do something.”

“How’s that?” asked Pettigrew.

Lupin straightened his back and puffed his chest out. “I am a Prefect.”

Black, seated in his wing chair, mimicked Lupin’s pose and said, in a posh voice, “He is a Reject.”

Pettigrew tittered at this.

“Takes one to know.” Lupin flung a brownie at him. Black easily caught it and took a large bite.

“I wash dishowneded,” he grinned around the brownie. “I wash noht resheckted.”

“Semantics,” muttered Lupin, grabbing a brownie for himself.

“Balls to semantics.”

“You always say ‘balls’ to everything,” Lupin grumbled.

“Balls to you for thinking that.” Black had finished his brownie and he now reached for a bottle of Butterbeer. “These aren’t half bad,” he said in a pleasant voice, motioning with his bottle to the package of brownies set on the table before him.

Pettigrew leaned across the body of James Potter to reach the items in reference. “They are really quite good. I mean, ah, better than what the House Elves make.”

Lupin regarded the partially consumed brownie in his hand. “It does taste...better.” He tilted his head to one side as he regarded it. Pettigrew did the same with his brownie.

Black snorted loudly. “The sole of my shoe would taste better, provided it’s not been touched by a House Elf.”

“It’s because Kreacher upturned a tureen of lobster bisque on you the last time you criticised his cooking,” Potter chuckled, his eyes closed. He still had yet to move from his prone position, so the rope candy remained on his spectacles.

“HE’S A LOATHSOME LITTLE SPECK OF BASILISK EXCREMENT THAT NEVER DESERVED TO HAVE BEEN SHAT OUT IN THE FIRST PLACE. My only hope is that Mum becomes fond enough of him to hack off his disgusting little head and mount the ugly bastard on a wall. At least then I could have a game of darts.”

Pettigrew tittered merrily at that.

Lupin titled his head to one side and nodded over to Black. “Oi,” he said.

“Oi,” responded Black.

“Who said that?”

“Who said wot?”

“Who said you got lobster bisque in your lap?”

“It wasn’t his lap, it was his head,” corrected Potter from his place on the floor. “On his head. And it went down his shirt.”

“And it bloody well pained me,” Black growled.

“There it was again!” Lupin looked around them, his head whipping back and forth. “You didn’t hear that?”

“Hear what?” asked Potter, finally rising to a sitting position. Lupin boggled and fell back against the overstuffed chair behind him. Potter then yelled. “MY EYES!”

“Wotsamatterwityereyes?” Black calmly took a sip of his Butterbeer and gargled.

“MY EYES ARE BLEEDING. RED. ALL I SEE IS RED. ALAS AND ALACK, MY POOR EYES…”

Black swallowed loudly, made a sighing noise, and shrugged. “Eh. You were blind without yer specs anyways.”

“I CAN’T BE A CHASER NOW! SLYTHERIN’LL MURDER US!”

This caught the attention of Pettigrew. “Bloody hell, we need to get him to Hospital!” he yelped, struggling to rise from the sofa.

Black snorted, got to his feet, stalked over to Potter, removed the rope candy from his glasses, and then stalked back to his seat, chewing on the confection. “Honestly, Prongs, you are thick.”

“Siri, you saved me sight!” Potter turned to grin at him, and then immediately frowned. “Bloody hell, what is all over me specs? YECH.” He then haphazardly attempted to clean his spectacles with the edge of his dress shirt.

Lupin, in the meantime, continued to point and gape at James. “YOU’RE ALIVE!”

“Who?” Potter looked round the Common Room, confused.

“You.” Lupin pointed at him vigorously.

“Me?” Potter directed his forefinger to his chest.

“Yes.” Lupin nodded vehemently.

Potter started poking random parts of his body. “So I am.”

Lupin sighed audibly and returned to his brownie. “Brilliant. I was loathe to have to dispose of your remains.” He took a bite and leaned against the foot of the overstuffed chair, obviously indulging in the taste of the baked item.

“And how in the hell were you going to do that?” wondered Black.

Lupin slowly finished chewing. “I’m a Prefect.” By way of self-reference, Lupin jabbed a thumb into his chest. “I’ve me ways.”

His three mates laughed in perfectly choreographed, sarcastic unison. “HAH!”

Lupin blinked and put on a hurt air. “Wot’s that s’posed to mean?” he pouted.

Black sniggered loudly and explained, “That’s means that you’re powerless as a Prefect. You are a Marauder first, Moony. As a Prefect, you are, as they say in the States, a lame fuck.”

Lupin boggled at him. James started laughing so hard he dropped his glasses. Pettigrew shrieked and grabbed another pillow from the sofa to stifle his cackles.

“I beg your bloody pardon?” Remus said in a loud voice, his eyes wide.

James, who was still laughing, responded instead. “He meant duck. The term is ‘lame duck’…not lame fuck…” He fell over onto his side, helpless with laughter.

Sirius shrugged and nodded at the prostrate Potter. “Yeh. Wot he said.”

“Have a care and learn the bloody language ‘fore you go usin’ it on me!” snapped Remus, reaching behind him to grab a cushion from the overstuffed chair. He bunged it at Sirius, who misjudged the throw and caught the pillow head on.

Lupin began to roll with laughter, loud, hearty laughs. He wrapped his arms around his mid-section and lolled back against the chair.

Black, the offending pillow having ricocheted off of his face and onto the low table, glared at Lupin murderously.

“You swine. That’s it.” He launched himself out of the wing chair and towards Lupin.

Remus still had the good sense to know that Black wanted blood, so he scampered round the back of the overstuffed chair to put it between them. Black hopped up into the chair and took a swipe at Lupin’s head. Lupin ducked and backed away, still laughing. “You’ll have to do better than that, Padfoot.”

Black clambered over the top of the chair with some difficulty. “Stay still a moment, damn you.”

“Bugger off.” Lupin continued to back away.

Black finally made his way to the top of the chair. He stood on the back, one hand on his hip, the other raised into the air. “I feel like Admiral Bloody Bird right now.”

“You look more like Admiral Bloody Berk right now,” sniggered Potter from the rug.

“Oi, now, you…” Black wobbled and pitched forward, falling off of the chair and sending it tumbling onto its back. Black managed to careen into Lupin, who had not backed far enough away, and the both of them crashed into the stone floor.

“FUCKING HELL,” barked Sirius.

“YOU GOBSHITE,” yelped Remus.

“SHH,” said Pettigrew, who had struggled to a sitting position and was holding a forefinger before his lips. “Someone might hear you.”

“I DON’T GIVE YOUR ARSE,” Sirius and Remus yelled in unison. They began to push and shove and otherwise brutalise one another in an effort to get up off of the floor.

“WATCH YOUR HANDS, YOU GIT, I’M STILL PURE!”

“OW, WOT IS THAT, POKIN’ ME…AIGH, THAT’S NEVER YOUR WAND! GEROFF ME!”

They wrestled their way over to the base of the stairs leading to the girls’ dormitory. Rather, they wrestled their way almost to the stairs to the girls’ dormitory. They were stopped sort of the first stair step.

“Wha’?” They both looked to see what the obstruction was.

It was one very red-faced and thin-lipped Lily Evans.

“Crikey, it’s the Bill!” chirruped Lupin.

“Wot are you talking about, you dip, you’re a Prefect, too.” Black took a swipe at Lupin’s head.

“OW.”

Lily folded her arms across her dressing gown and tapped her foot against the floor. Black and Lupin’s eyes moved from Lily’s stern face to her foot. “Ooh, Lils, you’ve got nice ankles,” murmured Black.

She snorted loudly, reached down to take Black by one of his earlobes and Lupin by one of his, and pulled them to their feet.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow…” they whinged at the same time.

“If you two berks think that this hurts, my, oh, my, boys, you are quick to be in for a rude awakening.” She took them by the ear lobes and dragged them over to the sofa. She glared down at Pettigrew, who instantly skittered to the opposite end. She sat Black and Lupin down on the sofa and glowered at Potter. “You. On the sofa. Now.”

Potter began to open his mouth to object, but though better of it when he saw the set of Evans’ jaw. He pulled himself up and onto the couch and sat there, shame-faced, with his mates.

His mates weren’t nearly as quiet as he was, in particular, Sirius Black. “Ow, me lug hole,” scowled Black, flickering a sour glance at Lily.

“You are fortunate that I didn’t use my wand on you.” She surveyed the scene in the Common Room and frowned at the Marauders. “What in the bloody hell is going on here?”

“Don’t be such a nosey parker,” grumbled Black.

With a sound that reminded James of a snarl, Lily reached forward with a speed that would make a Seeker envious and clasped Black’s nose between her thumb and forefinger. “I suggest you stuff it, Black, straight away.”

He pouted at her dangerously, but he fell silent. She released him and he rubbed his nose with one hand and his sore earlobe with the other.

Lily took a step back and shook her head at them. “You lot have some explaining to do. Especially you, Remus. What are you thinking? Have you gone mad? You’ll lose your prefect’s badge over this!”

“That’s not so bad,” volunteered Peter, who then attempted to stuff himself into the sofa’s cushioning on the look he received from Lily.

“What happened here?” she asked again, in a calmer tone.

Remus sucked in his lower lip and gave her a great heave of his shoulders. “We were just having a laugh. Had some sweets from Honeyduke’s, some Butterbeers, and some brownies.” Lupin pointed to the remains on the table. “We only were having a laugh, Lily, honest.”

“You were so bloody loud you damn near woke the entire tower. And for you to have Butterbeers in here…”

James made a face and then asked, “So why are you the only one down here?”

“Pardon?”

He looked up at her, squinting his eyes so that he could see more than a red-topped ivory blur. “If we were so loud, why are you the only one to have come downstairs?”

At this, James could barely see the ivory blur turn a faint shade of pink. “Well, erm…”

“Aw, Lils,” began Sirius in a cheerful tone, “you cast a Silencing charm on the Common Room.” He grinned winsomely at her.

Remus, Peter, and James looked to him (James squinted at him, rather), and then to Lily. “Did you?” asked Remus, a note of hope in his voice.

Lily sighed, clasped her hands before her, and hung her head. “Yes,” she answered in a small voice.

“But…why?” wondered Pettigrew.

“Never you mind, just be grateful that she did,” said Potter, interceding on her behalf. Lily gave him an odd look, one that Potter couldn’t really see to even wonder about.

She shifted on her feet uncomfortably and regarded them. She gazed into each of their faces. “Have you been drinking Firewhiskey as well?”

“Nope.”

“No.”

“Nah.”

“It makes me ill.”

She cast a dubious glance at the Marauders and then at the table. “I find it difficult to believe that sweets and Butterbeers put you into this state. Your eyes are blood-shot and glassy and the lot of you don’t seem quite there. It’s simply not possible for you to be arseholed on what you have here.”

“No, I s’pose you have a point,” murmured Remus.

“Did she just say ‘arseholed’?” wondered James, his eyes wide.

Sirius stared up at her in wonderment. “Evans…” he said at length. “I am duly impressed.”

She snorted at him. It appeared that she was finding it difficult to formulate a proper response for his infernal cheek. It was too late in the evening / early in the morning for it. Lily nodded her head at the box of brownies. “Did you get those from Hogsmeade as well?”

“Oh, those.” Pettigrew shifted on the sofa. “No, we didn’t get them from, ah, Hogsmeade. I’m not really sure where they, erm, came from, really…” His voice trailed off.

“Gentlemen?” she enquired of the three remaining Marauders, her eyebrow arched.

Potter and Lupin looked to one another and shrugged. Black snickered and proudly proclaimed, “Eh, I nicked ‘em from Fartbottom.”

“You didn’t,” said Lupin, with a hint of a smile.

“Yeh, I did. For he is Fartbottom, Lord of the Puffs! Himself got a package by owl post. So, I, of course, nicked it from him.” Sirius giggled. “I says we’re even now.”

“Brownies for socks, then? That’s, ah, quite the return,” commented Peter.

“That’s it!” Black gave Pettigrew a violent shove. “That’s what I was talking about! Here, which of you wankers put a bloody sock on me tongue?”

“No one knows and no one cares, you knob,” muttered Lupin.

Lily, who had only been partially listening to the exchange, had walked around the table to where the box lay. She peered inside, and then checked the lid. Affixed to the lid was a note. As she read it over, her eyebrows rose. She gingerly picked up a brownie and gave it a sniff. She immediately dropped it back into the box and stared at the boys, aghast.

“Do you know what these are?” Evans asked them, astonishment evident in her voice.

“Brownies?” replied Peter. This immediately sent Black into another fit of giggles.

She shook her head in aggravation and continued. “Didn’t you notice something odd about them?” she pressed.

James pulled a thoughtful face. “Well, they seem to be really good…”

“Yeah, really, really good…” continued Remus.

“Really, really, really good…” snickered Black.

Lily made a noise of aggravation and pointed at the box. “D’you know who sent these to Fart – damn you, to Longbottom?” The Marauders exchanged blank glances and then mutely shook their heads at her. She grunted again and picked up the box lid. “TED TONKS,” she growled, pointing to the note card attached.

There was a moment of silence as the information attempted, and failed, to settle itself into the impaired minds of the Marauders. “Why would Tonks send Fartbottom something?” wondered Pettigrew.

Black, Potter, and Lupin slowly shook their heads in a negative. Then, Lupin gasped as comprehension finally found a hold in his considerably foggy mind. “Lily, do you mean to say that…”

“Yes!” she exclaimed with some measure of relief. “You...berks should know better than to eat anything that Tonks has cooked up! Honestly! How thick can you be?”

“What’s that?” asked Potter, still squinting around at everyone in an effort to see.

“Tonks’ brownies, mate. These are Tonks’ brownies.”

“Yeh, Lils already established that,” mumbled Sirius.

“No, you stupid git, these are Theodore Tonks’ Bespoke Eat But Not Smoke Brownies.” Remus made special emphasis on the title.

After a beat, Black’s eyes grew wide. “Ach, no…”

“Yeah,” said Lupin, grinning. “Can you believe it?”

Pettigrew appeared confused. “How are they ‘bespoke’?”

It was Lily who answered him. “They’re not just ordinary brownies, Peter.”

“I’m sorry?”

“They are what the Muggles call hash brownies, Peter.”

“How’s that?’

“They’ve hashish in them.”

“I still don’t…”

“ARE YOU DAFT, MAN? TONKS’ MADE MARIJUANA BROWNIES!” roared Potter.

Peter started laughing madly. “No…he never!”

Lupin started to laugh as well. “But I feel fine.”

“Wot’s Fartbottom doin’ getting a package of these?” demanded Black. “The prat is undeserving!”

Lupin gave him a nudge. “Oi, mate, the question is, why is your brother-in-law…”

“Half-brother-in-law,” corrected Sirius, nudging him in return.

“Shite, I can’t follow that logic, man,” said Lupin with a scowl. “Why did Tonks’ bake these for Fartbottom?”

“Who cares?” offered Pettigrew.

This was met by a bellowing laugh from Sirius. “Too right, Wormy! Blow me, what a victory this was, me liberatin’ them! Bastard prolly wouldn’t have shared!” The boys started another round of rowdy laughter.

“Oh, bugger!” Evans threw her hands into the air and collapsed into the wing chair. “This is officially hopeless. For the love of Morgana, what I am going to do with you?”

The boys stopped laughing and blinked at her. “Huh?”

“YOU’VE GONE ALL PEAR-SHAPED,” she yelled at them, stamping her feet on the rug, “GETTING YOURSELVES ARSED ON TONKS’ BLOODY BROWNIES! AND THE BLOODY COMMON ROOM IS A BLOODY WRECK!” Evans cast another look round the area, her green eyes wide. “This is a disaster. Morgana knows how long this will take to sort…”

“Oh, Lily, Lily, Lily…my girl with the Sneakoscope eyes…” Sirius burbled.

“Lily in the sky with Diagon Alleys,” chimed in James.

“All things must pass,” sang Remus.

“You’ve got to admit it’s getting better,” added Peter.

‘How do you do it?” giggled James.

Lily stared vacantly at them as she held her head in her hands. “Lils, Lils, no worries, love; we are all right as rain. We’ll have it all sorted by morning, don’t you fret. We are professionals, my dear lady. Besides, nothing there’s the matter me with.” Black grinned wolfishly and relaxed against the cushions. His head then fell onto the back of the sofa and he began snoring immediately.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Evans moaned, rubbing her forehead. She looked around the Common Room in frustration. “We’ve – I’ve got to get this place sorted before the morning comes. Oh, great Morgana.”

“You’re going to…you mean you’re not… it’s…you won’t be grassing on us?” stammered Remus.

She stared at him. “Get him –” and here she pointed at Black “– up to your dorm. And try to be quiet about it. The Silencing charm doesn’t cover very far up the stairwells or into the dorms themselves, just the Common Room, really.” Lupin and Pettigrew gaped at her. “Go, now, before I change my mind.” She made a move for the pocket of her dressing gown.

“Right,” chirped Lupin.

“Going,” added Pettigrew.

They considered the lifeless and snoring form of Sirius Black.

“Eh,” started Pettigrew.

Lily sighed again, took her wand from her pocket, levelled it at Black and said in rapid succession, “Pinnula Agilis, Obrigescere Tabulationis.” Black’s body immediately become rigid and snapped into a fully upright position, as if he were standing sideways against gravity. Remus took a finger and poked him. He was pleased to discover that Black was light enough to float. This made Remus grin, a great toothy grin.

James cocked his head and thought for a moment. “Your incantation. Did that mean what I think it means?” he asked her.

Lily nodded silently.

“You’re amazing.” Remus flashed his grin at her. “Thanks, Lily, that was brilliant.”

She snorted yet again and motioned to the staircase with her wand. “Go. I ought to get started on cleaning up after you berks.”

“Love ya, Lils,” Remus grinned, as he and Pettigrew took hold of Black’s body and walked/floated him to the staircase leading to the boys’ dormitory.

She watched them leave, shook her head for the umpteenth time, and then wearily rubbed her eyes, wand still in hand. When she finished, she noticed that Potter was still on the sofa.

“You ought to follow them, your Marauders,” Lily said tiredly.

“I can’t.”

“What? How’s that?”

James pointed to his face. “I can’t see.”

“What? Are you –” Lily frowned and then finally noticed that he wasn’t wearing his trademark round specs. “Where…?”

At that, James shrugged, his palms outstretched. “Dunno.”

“Morgana, help me. You can’t find your way upstairs without them?”

Potter gave her a grin that would have melted the hearts of most of the girls at Hogwarts into a puddle of love-struck goo. “I can hardly see as it is, Lily, and you’ve just told us that we’re high on Tonks’ brownies. I could well die trying to get to my room without me specs.”

“Bloody hell.” Lily frowned terribly, a look that would have concerned James if he had been able to see it properly, and started looking around the Common Room. She held her wand before her and said, “Lumos Maxima.” She pointed the wand at Potter. “Where is the last place you remember having them?”

“Crap, Lily, I might be longsighted, but I can still see.” Potter put his hands before his face to block the glare of her wand.

“Sorry.” She lowered it. “Do you remember?”

“Uh…” In contradiction of the commands being issued from his brain, Potter found his body slowly sliding downwards. Thankfully, the sofa came between him and the floor. The tip of Lily’s wand dropped, illuminating his spectacles.

Or, rather, the remains.

Potter made a sickly squelching sound of sorrow. “What is it…” Then Lily saw them. “Oh. Oh. Well…I’m sorry.”

He gently picked up the carcass of his glasses and set the warped frames on his nose. The glass of both lenses was cracked horribly, to the point of uselessness. “I’m buggered,” he lamented.

He heard a sigh and then, quietly, “Nox.” Lily walked over to him and waved her wand at him. “Oculus Reparum,” she said.

His glasses were magically repaired before his eyes, to the sound of tinkling and chiming. He blinked up at Evans, a smile spreading across his face. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, looking as though she felt very awkward. When Potter started to giggle, she nodded and motioned to the stairs. “Right. You’ve your spectacles now. Go to bed.”

Chuckling, he gracelessly rose to his feet and wobbled toward the staircase. He held his arms out from either side to balance himself. “You won’t need any help?”

“I’d rather not have you in the way,” she muttered.

“Hey, that’s not nice,” he complained, though he was laughing when he said it.

Lily gave him a push toward the stairs and he nearly fell over. “Careful, love!”

“I’m not your love,” she scowled, though her voice didn’t sound angry.

When they reached the foot of the stairs, James suddenly had it in his mind to turn and face Lily. In stopping short, she nearly walked into him, and he had to put his arms around her to keep her from falling. In his unusual state, he spun her around to where her back was against the wall.

“Hiya.” Though he had Lily pinned to the wall, his arms to either side of her, James didn’t seem to be bothered in the least.

“You’re supposed to be going to bed,” she snapped.

“I’m going, I’m going,” he murmured. “But, I’ve a question, Lily, Lily, Lily, Lily…oh, Lily, Lily, Lily, Lily…”

“Will you ask it already?”

“’Kay. I just wanted to know…” Here he paused to giggle. “Why’d you put a charm on the Common Room?”

“I – well, I – listen, Potter, I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“Yes, you do,” he smiled, leaning in close.

She thought he smelled like Butterbeer and chocolate.

He saw her blink at him. “No, I don’t.”

“C’mon. Please?”

“No. Now go to bed.”

“Not until you tell me.”

Lily growled in frustration. “Bloody hell, Potter, I’m a Prefect, and I am ordering you to bed.”

He grinned at her. “Don’t care. I’m the Captain of the Quidditch Team and I’ll not move ‘til you tell me why you put a charm on the Common Room.”

“You are an insufferable prat.”

He pouted. “Hey, now, no need to get all personal like.”

“And you’ve got icing all over your mouth,” she grumbled.

“Do I?” Potter crossed his eyes in an attempt to look. “All over?”

“Mostly. You’re a mess. You ought to be in bed, so I can take care of things down here.”

“Ah, you see, that was my follow up question. Why sort the room for us?”

“Why are you so damn curious? Why can’t you be this bloody alert in class?”

“’Cause…I’m never this close to you in class…”

Lily glared at him. “Of all the infernal cheek.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Nah. Not yet.” When Lily started to say something else, he closed the distance between them and kissed her firmly on the lips.

She placed her hands on his shoulders as if to push him away, but there was no force behind her motion. They stood here, Lily with her back against the stone wall and her hands on James’ shoulders, and James standing pressed against Lily, propped up with a hand to either side of her. As he continued to kiss her, he smiled. She still wasn’t pushing him away, but the kiss was innocent. Potter decided to press his luck (sod it all, he was already high on Tonks’ brownies, right?) and he gently, softly, began to kiss her again.

Lily was stunned. Firstly, she was a bit put off by her protecting the Marauders. When she first heard them carrying on, she had come downstairs to tell them to shut it, but placed a Silencing charm on the Common Room instead and lingered just past the barrier to listen to them. Secondly, this was the closest she had ever been to Potter. Thirdly, he was kissing her…and she had never been kissed like this before. He was very soft, very gentle. The first kiss was chaste, but now he had shifted gears and was administering his attentions first to her upper lip and then to her bottom lip, tenderly wrapping his lips around hers and plying them with moist kisses. Then he parted her lips with his tongue. He was very tender and very warm and very wet…and he tasted just like chocolate.

Lily’s mind reeled and she found herself wondering if it was possible to get a contact high from Potter’s chocolate-flavoured (courtesy of Tonks’ brownies) kisses.

When James made the move in touching her tongue with his (which was, admittedly, unplanned, as he had intended to do something else, but his body wasn’t quite cooperating with him), he immediately thought of pumpkin juice. Lily reminded him of pumpkin juice. That went very well with Tonks’ brownies, he thought.

With a gasp, Lily pulled away from him. She stared into his face, her breathing hurried, her face flushed. “What was that?” she asked.

“Erm, what?”

“What just happened?”

He blinked. “We had a bit of a snog?”

She frowned at him. “Is that all it was?”

“For Merlin’s sake, Lily, don’t do this to me, you know I am in no state…bloody Tonks’ and his brownies…” He had closed his eyes, and opened them to find that Lily was still glaring at him. “Okay. Fine. I really wanted to kiss you. For what you did. For what you are doing. For what it means.”

“What makes you think it means anything?”

“Evans, I am smarter than that and you know it. I fancy you. And despite Prewett asking after you, I think you fancy me as well.” When she didn’t answer him, he sighed, backed away from her, and turned to face the stairs. “Right, then. I s’pose we’re back to where we were. I’m Prongs the Chaser Prat and you’re Evans the Swotty Prefect and this never happened. S’awright. I understand.”

“Do you?” she asked in a voice so soft he barely heard it.

He didn’t look at her. “No. But that’ll do for tonight, right?” He turned, flashed a grin and a wink at her, and said, “Tonight’s a special night. Not every night that my arse gets saved by the Gryffindor Prefect.”

“Lupin is one too, you know,” she said, but there was a slight smile about her lips.

“Yeah, but he’s arseholed, as you said, so he don’t count.” He grinned again and started to his dorm. He paused and turned back to face her. “Say, what’ll happen in the morning? I mean, after the brownies are done with…whatever…?” He looked vaguely concerned.

Lily shrugged for him. “I’m not really certain. I’ve never had…been, well, you know. I’ve heard about them, but…I think you might be famished. But other than that…?”

“Famished, eh? Won’t be different than any other morning, then.” He grinned at her. Lily had the impression that there was something of a grimace to it as well, but the impression was fleeting. “’Night, Evans.”

“Good night, Potter.” Lily watched him as he ascended the stairs, and then turned back to the Common Room. “It’s not so much a special night as it is a different night, James. Things are different. I’m not sure I want you to know how so, not just yet.” She touched her lips with the tips of her fingers. “I’m not even certain yet.” She walked to the centre of the Common Room and stopped, staring in the fire that was beginning to burn itself out in the hearth. “Hmm, I do know that you are a wonderful kisser, James, even if you are arseholed. I do wonder what you’d be like when sober.” Then she grinned. “That’s a terrible thought.” She licked her lips. “…hmm, Tonks’ is a pretty good baker,” she murmured, with a giggle.

As her giggles increased, she started on the arduous task of straightening the Common Room. “With a bit of luck it shouldn’t take too long,” she chuckled, using her wand to set the overstuffed chair back into position. “I should have this sorted well before morning.” She paused for a moment, a thought occurring to her. “Oh, dear. I never told them how to reverse the spell on Sirius, did I?” The image of a raging but frozen Black set her to laughing. The more she thought on it, and the more of the party remnants she disposed of, the harder she laughed. Black was going to be livid. How she wished she would be there to see him come to. Her laughs turned to chuckles as she replaced the lid on the box of Tonks’ Bespoke Eat But Not Smoke Brownies.

Damn that Tonks. He’d actually paid some sort of attention in Potions Class, the sneaky bugger. Lily thought for a moment and came to the conclusion that she most definitely had a contact high from snogging Potter. Tonks would have to pay for giving her the giggles. He would be made to rue the day. She could probably get Andi to help her. She could likely get the Marauders to help her as well, especially Sirius, after he got over being made light as a feather, stiff as a board. At the thought of that she fairly roared with laughter.

It was a good thing, she mused through tears of brownie-induced merriment, that I didn’t reverse the Silencing charm on the Common Room.

∞