In the Tower
Chapter Eight: Bickering Lightly
Summary: James and Lily ate their big toes. The end. JOKING!
Disclaimer: I don't own it, stupid nimwads! GODS!
Author's Note: This used to be a very long author's note, but now it's all meaningless. So… this is your author's note!
Previously: "Well what." He said to them, annoyed, and frightened. They growled and he sighed. "He was fine." They backed up, but still had the looming thing on him. "Can I go, to bed?" They nodded and he breezed past them and up the stairs to his and Tina's room. He changed in the bathroom and got in his bed quickly, falling asleep not five minutes later. He dreamt of something he thought couldn't possibly be right. James and Lily were getting along. In his dream, James and Lily were getting along! Something is definitely wrong. Worst part was he saw them kissing, really hot and heavy. He screamed like a five year old girl.
"Remus?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you believe in destiny?"
"Yes,"
"Do you think that you can't escape your own?"
"That depends,"
"On what?"
"On whether you want to or not,"
The Memoirs of Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, by violet-angel07
Lily rolled over and opened her eyes, to stare directly at James's face. The sharp angels of his cheekbones fit his face perfectly. His eyes under the lids were twitching in rapid motion as she watched. His breathing was irregular, gasping, and she didn't know what was wrong. She knew that wasn't normal.
He slept on his side, his face pressed up against his silk crimson red pillow, and his glasses on the small night table near his side. She tilted her head up and looked around. The house elves had obviously come, for the little tower was sparkling and there were more muffins and pumpkin juice and coffee. She felt the wind howling around the tower, seeping through the stone walls and entering the cramped room.
She put her head back down on the silk pillow and sighed. Even the thick comforters were letting some of the cold chill in, and she felt it enter her skin and blend with her bones, making her rattle and shiver to try and warm herself. She went down deeper in the bed and moved involuntarily toward James. He in turn did the same thing.
Lily was about to go to sleep when she felt something crawl over her stomach, all very warm, and stay there. She shivered. She reached down, lifted it up, and set it down between her and James. This process repeated itself several times. She finally lifted it and brought it to her face. First thing she saw was long, tan fingers. She sighed and put it on his cheek, so it looked like he was pressing his head into the blankets.
But then she looked at his face. James's eyes had been watching her. The big hazel iris's watching her every move with a dazed, confused look to it. That's because he didn't have his glasses on. But he was grinned slightly and his eyes were twinkling. She pretended she didn't notice. She waited until the arm went around her again, and then she took it and put it between his legs. His eyes practically popped.
She laughed at him.
"Lily…" He whined at her, shifting under the blankets they shared so he could remove his hand. She grinned and hunkered her shoulders under the blanket it went up farther on her neck and arms.
"I didn't do anything!" She said, innocently. He rolled his eyes at her playfully.
"Of course you didn't," he said in his usual voice around her. But in a lower, huskier tone, he told her, "But I wish you did." Her mouth was open like a fish. He reached out a bare arm and shut it gently. His usual bright hazel eyes were a darker color than normal. That was scaring her.
"So!" She told him with a high, strained voice, jumping up from the bed and started pacing on the floor, casting nervous glances at James every few moments. He was watching her with his head in his hand, being supported by his elbow. He was smirking at her with a kind of lost look about him. He turned and got on his glasses. He then took them off, wiped them on the blanket carelessly, and then resumed staring at her once they were firmly back on the bridge of his nose.
"So what?"
"Happy Christmas Eve!" She told him, sitting at the foot of the bed, shoving a cranberry muffin in her mouth in the most unlady like way. She heard James chuckle behind her.
"Yeah, same to you," She shivered uncontrollably as he sat down at the foot of the bed next to her, dressed in yet again, just his fucking boxers. He reached out a muscled arm and she watched as all the muscles twitched and moved in his arm as he reached out and took a… muffin. What the hell? She was getting excited over watching him get a muffin? What the hell was wrong with her?
She turned to the side and started hitting herself in the head with her palm, making sure the sound of skin knocking against skin was only heard to her. She felt the shift of the bed as soon as she felt his breath over her shoulder. He caught her hand with surprisingly good reflexes and held it over her head in an unnatural way so she was bent to his will and to his advantage. She whimpered as she felt the arm go farther back and her back popped. About ten times in one second or so. He let go.
"You're too tense." James told her calmly.
"You're too calm," she snapped at him, and bit her lower lip.
"I'm calm," he told her slowly, "because tomorrow is Christmas. `Good will towards all men.'" He told her, then added as an after thought, "And women."
"Well, I don't care." She told him simply, jumping out from his reach and started pacing the kitchen area. She stopped, tore the long emerald cloak that James and her had hid under yesterday from the bitter cold on, and paced again. He sat watching her, occasionally reaching out indifferently and grabbing a muffin and shoving it in his mouth. She paced for a while, occasionally raising her arm and biting her nails. Not that they were perfect.
"Do you happen to have a fetish with your nails?" He asked her, amused. She gave him a sharp look and shook her head, before pacing again. She felt him look her up and down. "Because I'm happening to have one watching you," She glared.
"Ass," She told him simply, before storming up the stairs to the tower clutching the cloak about her shoulders tightly. She slammed the door open and expected an onslaught of cold air running through her hair and bones. Instead, she got a sunrise.
She sat down dangerously close to the edge of the tower, her long legs dangling and swinging over the side.
"Sorry," he mumbled to her, five minutes later. She shrugged and said nothing, he knew what she felt. "It was a very rude thing for me to say."
"Well of course it was." She told him snappishly. But she looked at him over her shoulder and smiled slightly. Only because he finally had a shirt and some simple jeans with holes in the knees on. "But you wouldn't be James Potter if you weren't rude."
He grinned. "I would tell you, if this were three years ago and we were fourth years, `hell yeah, Evans. Go out with me?' and you would turn and walk away. But now, hell, I think I would still say that." He grinned impishly at her, and she blushed lightly, looking at him. "Except for the `Hey Evans!' Part."
She laughed a little and bumped shoulders with him. "If you did, I'd still tell you `no.'" He looked down at her.
"Well that's not nice. Even if I'm the only guy you see because we're stuck in a tower together for at least the next two weeks?"
"Even that,"
"Cruel hearted,"
"Big headed," They bickered lightly with each other.
"Insufferable know-it-all,"
"Codfish,"
"Untouchable,"
"Toerag," He gasped.
"The ultimate insult. I'm impressed, Evans." She shoved him and he fell over sideways.
"When one deals with the infamous James Potter, they must be quick of mind and of tongue. Dull wit is never an option."
"Poetic," He mused. She grinned and twirled a limp piece of hair around her finger.
"I do what I can."
He took a deep breath. "Can you kiss me?" She almost fell over the tower wall in shock.
"Excuse me?" She said in a high pitch.
"I said, `Can you kiss me?'"
"Can I, or may I?"
"Well, you certainly may, but can you?"
She was flabbergasted to say in the least. His hitting on her had calmed down drastically, as they were both named Head's. And he truly only started hitting on her today. Cupid must have shot him in the ass. She changed the subject. "We don't know much about each other, do we? So let's do `Twenty Questions.'" He blushed and looked the other way, once again being rejected by Lily Evans.
"Fine," He said stiffly, "you first. Ask questions first anyway. We'll switch off. You answer the questions you asked me."
"Birthday?" She said abruptly, and leant back until she had her arms folded behind her head and was lying down on the cool stone, watching the sky over head get lighter.
"May 15, 1960." He answered promptly.
"November 25, 1960. Family?"
"Only child, mum and dad, unless you count Sirius as my brother." She rolled her eyes.
"Mother and father, sister. Pets?"
"A bunch of horses, one which has a very deep connection with Sirius. Horse's name is Charlie. And then like twelve more, and then an owl named Black MaJik."
"A cat named Flatus, and an owl named Tristor. Favorite class?"
"Transfiguration, that's a given."
"How could I forget? Mine's Charms. Favorite person?"
"…Sirius, Remus or…" he looked at her. "You,"
"Guinevere or Tanya, who was my best friend before Hogwarts. Fucked yet?"
"…" He thought about it, and told the truth. "Yes."
"Nope. First kiss and who?"
"First year, Jennifer Breslant, who was then a third year."
"Fourth year, you because you somehow got a mistletoe over my head and just had to be my hero." He laughed. "Did you want to?" He gave her a look that clearly said, `what?' "Did you want her to kiss you?" He shrugged. "Did you want to kiss me?" He nodded his head rapidly.
She took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eyes. He looked at her just the same way. She had no idea why she was doing this, or when she even got the idea. "Still want to?" She said vaguely.
"What?" He said, his eyes getting wide. She blushed and looked down.
"Never…" But he cut her off.
"Of course I want to!" She looked up at him and immediately closed them, her arms wrapping around his neck as his lips descended onto hers in a passionate kiss. It got much worse than that, well not worse but more, heated, but this is PG-13.
She gasped and opened her eyes. She saw black. She looked to her side, nothing. She looked up at the black sky again. The stars and the almost full moon were looking down at her, looking like they were laughing. She barley hid a scowl and bit back a loud curse. She slammed her hands from under her head as her pillow, and felt her head hit the stone, and then she plummeted her hands on the stone, feeling the distinct pain from how hard the impact was and then the familiar tingle of pain flowing through the nerves.
She got up and swept down the passage into the lower chamber. James's head snapped up and he smiled as he heard her. Then his lovely face immediately changed to a frown as seeing her in a huff. "What's wrong?" He asked her.
"Nothing," She told him, pulling out a chair and sitting down opposite her. "I just had a weird dream."
"Oh," he said surprised, not really knowing what to say. "You fell asleep playing the game. I thought of bringing you down but I didn't want any chance of hurting you or waking you." She grunted. "You fell asleep as I was answering who my first kiss was." He grinned at her and headed off to the bathroom to take his daily shower. "Happy Christmas Eve," She slammed her head down on the table as she heard another door close.
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