Chapter Seven: My Bet Is Before The Story's Over
By Natali K. A.
-Lily's POV-
Oh my gosh.
Oh my fucking gosh.
"This is too good to be true," I muttered, sitting up in bed. His bed. James' bed. Perfectly nice night, perfectly nice food, perfectly nice bitch to bug me, perfectly nice argument, and a perfectly nice shag.
I could hear the shower running, and had to worry about the strength of the charm on his room. Someone must hear something. I mean, water running through pipes all throughout the house has to make noise.
Well, what would I say, if we were found out?
"Yes, Mrs. Potter, we were shagging under your roof."
I snickered as I imagined Mrs. Potter's response.
"I should bloody hope so. If I'm lucky, you'll get pregnant and the wedding will be all the more sooner."
It would be so like her to say a thing like that.
"Are you planning on getting out of bed today, Miss Lily?" James asked, opening the bathroom door clad in just a towel tied around his waist.
"If I bloody feel like it, I will." I stretched, all the while surveying James' bum as he searched in his closet for a shirt. "What's with this sudden sense of propriety, James? Take the damned towel off."
He grinned at me. "Now, Lils, it won't do for you to be so commanding."
I yawned lazily. "Take the towel off," I repeated, lowering my voice and throwing the covers off of me. "Then come back to bed, baby."
He turned around and looked sorely tempted for a moment. His eyes looked over my naked body with such pleasure that I felt myself blush. Gosh he's so hot.
"We need to get back to school," he muttered. "I'd rather not have everyone yelling about, asking where we are. Doesn't take a genius."
"They can't possibly know where we've got to, though," I pointed out smartly. "What's the rush?"
"They might not know how, but they know what and why. Bad enough."
"I don't care," I shrugged.
"I do."
"Can't see why."
"Because the entire world doesn't need to know when we're off sleeping with each other, Lily," he sighed. "I'm going back to the shower."
"But you just-"
"A cold shower, you evil little strumpet. Sitting yourself like that on my bed, all innocent and naked." He gave a cry of frustration. "We're never going to make it to school like that!"
I sat back on my heels, unable to keep a howl of laughter inside.
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-Robert Potter's POV-
"Kathryn, did you manage to catch a word with James before he, Lily, and Sirius went back to school?" I asked my wife the morning after our party. I'd just stepped into the kitchen where she was already sipping her tea.
"No, dear. Did you?"
"Nope."
"Ah. I'll make sure to pen him a letter later today then." She took a sip of her tea, looking over its rim at me with a look that reminded me of why I married her. "Anything in particular you'd like me to say?"
"What is it that you're planning on saying?"
"The usual. If he's changing his underwear daily, if he's eating properly-"
"You'll never have to worry about his appetite. It's fine."
"-if he's had a chance to realize that he needs to marry that girl and marry that girl soon as possible. You know, just the usual." She grinned at me. "What do you make of it?"
"Sounds good," I chuckled, pouring myself a cup of black coffee, as one of our servants had already made it. "Tell him that I want my cuff links back."
"No, I meant about Lily Evans."
I cocked my head to the side and squinted, thinking. "Well, that would depend."
"On what exactly?"
"On which opinion you'd like."
"What are they?"
"Spectacular and just right for the wife that James will no doubt need one day to run this house after we're old and decrepit. The other is so fan-fucking-tastic and perfect for him that he shouldn't let another day go by without making sure he's snatched her up. Women like those only come by once in a lifetime."
"I was one of those, right dear?"
"Of course," I replied smoothly, smiling. "As if you'd be anything different."
"Never."
"The only thing my mother ever disliked about you was that I was entirely too head over heels for you," I pointed out, laughing a bit.
"The only thing?" Kathryn snapped. "That woman hated my very guts until the day she died. Even when I had James, she found reason to fault with me. Says his `crooked nose' comes from my side of the family." I grinned at her as she practically threw her cup into the sink.
"Our son doesn't have a crooked nose, and if he does it's from my side," I said soothingly. It always does give me some secret pleasure to see her so upset. Mother had always been a cool and difficult person to live with. She'd often gasped and asked how dare I place my wife over his own mother…
I would then look at my father who would automatically answer, "Any man who wants children knows to please his wife first, and then his mother. I did the same with you."
To which my mother would shriek, "You can hardly compare me-me, who is always ready to lend a helping hand-to that wretched woman you call your mother! She was a pest!"
Oh, Mother, Mother…
I glanced back at my wife, who seemed to have cooled down a bit.
"Right, as for you being head over heels for me"-she beamed at me-"there is no better way to have it. Had I been in any better state, I would have thought to abuse your little crush on me."
"Little?" I asked with raised eyebrow. "My `little crush' has resulted in nearly thirty-eight years of marriage and a certain son you like to dote on every now and again."
She humphed. "Yes, well… I never said it was an unfortunate little crush, but you're little more than besotted. One day I'll get too old and wrinkled for you and you'll find some younger witch that can make your wand do things it hasn't done in years." Her pretty blue eyes twinkled mischievously and I swear I fell in love with her all over again.
"Not to be crude, my love," I said, lowering my voice in case any servants were about-wouldn't want to frighten them, "but my cock has not had a day's rest ever since we got married. And a bit before that, as well."
"Robert!" Kathryn gasped, grabbing a hand towel that had been on the counter and swatting at me with it. "Go wash your mouth out with soap." But I knew that when she turned around to replace the towel, she was grinning anyway.
"Want to place a bet?" I asked.
"On what?"
"How long it takes them to get engaged. I'd say get married, but you know how these young things nowadays like to put it off for a year or so. I can't wait that long."
Kathryn considered it, then nodded. "Under a month, and if not, on the day they get off the Hogwarts Express for the last time. Three-hundred galleons."
I gave a low whistle. "Heavy bet there, Kathy. Sure you're up for it?"
"Not like I'm going to starve anytime soon or anything," she scowled. "Are you in? You need to name a specific time period that does not include my own."
I nodded, pondering. "I say under six months after they graduate, and then the hours after their actual graduation. The ceremony, I mean."
Kathy nodded. "Good choices. Very specific. But do you really think it'll take them that long? James isn't a very patient person. I highly doubt that Lily is either, and she most certainly will not wait so long for a proposal once she sees that it's the only thing to do."
"Do you really think he'll propose at Kings' Cross?" I laughed. "I've never heard of such a corny proposal in my life! James is a charmer, but he isn't disgustingly corny either, Kathy. How well do you know your son?"
"Here is my reasoning. They will get so caught up in the moment, so afraid that they might lose whatever it is they've had all year long and suddenly he'll see there's only one thing for it." She picked up one of the apples that had been in a bowl and bit into it. "He'll ask her in a spur of the moment sort of thing, but he'll have the ring on him."
"Why?" I asked, amused. She had a good point. I'd asked her in much the same way, only in different circumstances. She had been about to go off to her distant aunt's house straight out of school because her father thought I hadn't been serious about marrying her (conflict of station, long story), in order to find someone else. And the only way I could think of to stop her from doing so was to ask her to marry me.
Worked, didn't it?
Kathy crossed her arms satisfactorily. "Why, because he'd realized back a month after the party last night that he wanted to marry her and was just keeping it warm. He'd probably almost left it in his room and had gone up last minute to retrieve it and had had to slip it into his pocket for lack of a trunk."
I raised a brow. "That's far-fetched, Kath."
"So was your coming to my rescue thirty-eight years ago," she smirked. "But you came, didn't you? And with a very important question as well. Imagine my luck."
"Luck my arse, you planned the entire thing!" I laughed. "Fine. If that happens, Kathy-just as you say it will and every bit, including that part about him almost forgetting the ring-then not only will I give you 300 galleons, but I'll also cook for you every day for a month and give you foot massages once a week for a year."
The confident look on her face almost made me regret that. Of course, I'd probably end up doing most of that without betting it (love cooking and I love making her feel better, even if it's feet), but it felt very obligatory suddenly.
"Deal."
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-Three Days Later, James' POV-
"My parents are incredible," I sighed to Sirius, throwing myself onto my bed. "You won't guess what they've just written."
"To marry Lily?" he asked offhandedly, studying his shoes. "Which pair goes best with that mustard yellow shirt I've got, Prongs? With the black slacks."
"I like your penny loafers myself," I answered automatically. This was my usual response. He knew how clueless I was about fashion, especially about what matched with mustard yellow. What had possessed him when he'd bought that shirt? He looked like a giant walking bogey in it.
"As for your little dramatic entrance," Sirius said, turning this way and that in front of his full-length mirror, "my guess is that your parents have written you saying how much they want you to marry Lily, and how it should be A.S.A.P., without delay. Though I'm sure your mother added something about your parents having placed a bet on when you get engaged, but not to feel pressured. And then Bobby's handwriting would pop up, saying something which your mum scratched out. Am I close?"
"You've been reading my mail again, have you?" I asked dryly.
"I have."
"Good, I don't have to explain it all to you. What do you think?"
"I agree. It's a good bet to make."
"What do you mean?"
Sirius turned around and gave me a hard stare. "Well, it's sort of bloody obvious the two of you are getting married, therefore engaged. It's only a question of when. We don't think it'll take too long-you're not a patient sort of chap, Prongs, and anyhow, true love conquers any qualms about losing your freedom. So, it's just a question of when. I think you should wait, however, until the next party if you are thinking about it. Or at least until a party. Girls love that."
I glared at my supposed best mate. "You bet on our engagement, didn't you?"
"Yes, and be a dear, would you? There's 300 galleons on the line, and not to be blunt, but your parents hardly need the money." He began to head for the door.
"Sirius, what would you do with 600 galleons?" I asked curiously, though a bit afraid to do so. I wasn't so sure I wanted to know the answer.
"Buy that bike I've always wanted and buy Fira's pain in the arse of a father out of his position." With a wink, Sirius left.
"Faggot," I muttered under my breath. "Bloody faggot."
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-Letter to Mr. and Mrs. Potter, written later that evening…-
To Mr. and Mrs. Potter,
These are the bets we'd like to place. Please put us down.
Ariana: 20 galleons they get engaged before school ends but don't say a word of it until sometime during the summer.
Remus: 50 galleons it's in the month of July. (With the exclusion of July 5th, as I'd like to trade that in return for August 5th.)
Chloe: 30 galleons, ten knuts that they're engaged before August, and Lily gets pregnant. Expectedly or unexpectedly.
Peter: 2 knuts they don't.
*~*
A/N: Late, Wilma, etc. I just got power back early this morning, but I posted as soon as I could (I had to actually write it. Thankfully, I already had an idea of what I wanted to do…). Um, the reason I didn't do smut in this chapter is simple: I did it in White Houses. I don't have the energy to come up with two good smut scenes! Maybe next chappie? Who knows.
Be warned. Cazzy is my assassin. This goes for all stories, however, and not just A Budding Romance. She says no one is allowed to flame. I give a bit more freedom here in my realm of fanfiction, but as Caz would no doubt be a duchess or something in my little monarchy (or perhaps tyranny, I don't know, ha ha!), I would fear her wrath. I am also here to warn against Amanda's wrath. Let me assure you, these are not people I'd cross. As I'm on their good side (so long as I update on time), I am safe, but I fear for my people! Lol. Wow. It's 3 a.m., forgive the hyper-ness. Right. But they can badger me without getting on my bad side. Tell me then, how good are they at it? (Answer: Very) They use just the right amount of guilt, too…
To Janine: No, chapter five was not their first time together sexually. Sorry if I gave that impression. Just their first time together in his bed (I might be making up a male fantasy here. My silly little romance novels have given me the impression that men have some sort of possessive issue with the women they love and want desperately to make love in his bed. I don't know, shows ownership or something. Perhaps it goes back to the primitive "This woman mine" days… Again, might be incorrect. But as I don't have male genitals, we can hardly blame me, can we? But I shall alert you if and when I ever do acquire those-I do not plan to do so, however).
Thanks for your patience and your reviews, as well as those I intend on receiving tomorrow morning (or later this morning, more specifically), all filling up my inbox.
Hint, hint.
To Amanda, Goddess of White Houses: Yes, I know I said I wouldn't post just yet, until I was sure you were asleep as to not distract you. But I couldn't help myself. If you're reading this before having gone to school on Wednesday, October 26, 2005, YOU ARE IN BIG TROUBLE, MISSY! Beware the wrath of the Goddess of Bed-Pissing Dogs!! Lol. Just kidding. But seriously. Homework!!
Natali K. A.
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