Author's Note: It has been far too long since I've last prowled around this site with intent to read and write. But, I must say, that I am finally back into the mood. This here is a oneshot I started a while ago - perhaps a year and a half ago - and just finished today. If the characters do not seem true to their earlier selves, that's because, obviously, my mindframe today is not what it was o-so-long-ago.

Disclaimer: This is an AU of Harry Potter characters that I quite unfortunately do not own.

Thanks for reviews!

Business Only

She checked her reflection in the metallic lustre of the elevator doors. The red arrow was still pointing downwards. She looked up at the numbers indicated at the top of the door: 27, 26, 25, and lastly, 24. There was a beeping noise, the young woman stepped lightly inside, sending only a curt smile to her co-elevator-travellers, turned 'round to face the way from which she came. She slowly extended her hand out, pressing the button that indicated the third floor. The doors slowly closed before her, and the young woman continued to stare at her reflection.

Her thick mound of a red mane was pulled back in a soft ponytail. Her bangs were combed to the side, staying there with the help of a little magic she had learned while she had attended a very private school. Two curly strands hung loose in front of her ears flowing like the soft contours of her face that accentuated her femininity. Her large sea green eyes were drawn out by her thick black mascaraed lashes. No one could contest the fact that Lily Evans looked every inch a lady.

Even her attire seemed to exude femininity. From the delicate, almost khaki green business overcoat to her black tight at the hips, looser towards the knees skirt, right down to her lovely shoes…Lily Evans possessed womanly curves that were never seen as a curse. Lily made full use of what genetics had handed to her.

Alas, she arrived at the third floor. With one last look at her reflection, one last brush of a loose strand-that-wasn't-really-there back behind her ears, Lily stepped lightly off the elevator and walked directly towards the grand opening of the hotel's private restaurant. Just one look at the marble tiling of the floors and the tuxedo the host wore, it didn't take a genius to figure out that her company would be paying mucho mucho deniero for the business meal she was about to take.

That's when Lily's hands went cold. This was a business meeting, she had to remind herself. She was here on business. Her employer depended on her abilities to earn the trust of the other business person and to persuade them into letting go of their company. She had to earn their trust. The company had to earn this one person's trust and, since Lily seemed to be the most honest, sincere and trustworthy person at the office, all her superiors and subordinates had voted her the most likely to succeed in this undertaking. What the others didn't know was that her business savvy and prowess would have nothing to do with the outcome of this deal.

"Vous avez une reservation, Mademoiselle?" asked the host.

Lily, barely able to recall some of her French, nodded. "Oui. C'est sous le nom: Evans et Potter, s'il vous plait."

"Un instant…" The man looked down at his guest book. "Oui, bien sur. Je vous prie de me suivre." Lily nodded and followed the man as he led her to the back of the restaurant, stopped, and directed her with an open palm towards the direction of her table.

Lily's feet went cold at this moment. He was sitting there, leaning his face on one fist, twirling his fork between his fingers, hunched over, crumpling his very expensive Pierre Cardin suit. She smiled to herself at the fact that she was able to tell it was Pierre Cardin from this distance. He looked just like he had years ago: from his charmingly messy jet black hair, to the way his glasses went askew from his resting arm pushing against the rims. Lily straightened herself, pushed the thoughts out of her head, and walked directly towards James, thanking the host as she did.

"James Potter," she spoke as she drew near. James seemed to snap out of his reverie. He stood very quickly, straightened out his glasses, and made his way around the white clothed table to meet her.

"Lily Evans," he replied, smiling slightly. "We meet again, at last." Lily grasped his hand and gave it a firm handshake. It was the way of the business – no messing around. A soft shake of the hand meant you were a pushover, that you wouldn't stick to your guns. Lily was not a prissy princess. She was a go-getter. She was getting this contract signed.

But there was always time for play, no?

Lily brushed another invisible lock of red hair behind her ear. "It's nice to meet someone from my past, again. I see that if your personality hasn't matured, then your tastes at least have?" She smiled at him, eyeing his suit. He looked very, very gorgeous. It was black, with a touch of, could it be a grayish silver? that could only be seen at a particular angle of the light. The overcoat itself had no collar, and instead only a small piece of cloth stuck up in the back, making his neckline slide into his shoulders. He looked sophisticated, classy, but his eyes still held on to the same gleam Lily had been insanely attracted to throughout her Hogwart's career (of course, he didn't know this, although she was sure he was suspicious of it) that spelt tons about his character: wild, unpredictable, protective, and mischievous.

"I think you will find, Miss Evans," he spoke deliberately as he extracted a mahogany chair from underneath the table cover for her to sit in, "that not only have I matured in taste and character, but I have also matured in…" he sat down, "well I actually have nothing to add. Wine?" he lifted up his own glass to indicate that yes, he had wine in his crystal wine glass.

Lily shook her head. "No, Mr. Potter, I am here on business." She hated it. Right now she did. She wanted to drink a little wine, catch up on old times, on what James had been up to during the last six years, she wanted to tell him what she had been up to, and, most of all, she wanted to allow him the pleasure of perhaps playing footsies, followed by an exchange of Floo Addresses, and the evening perfected with a small, soft kiss on the lips.

James smiled at her. "Always straight to the point. I can tell you have not changed much, have you Lily?"

Lily smiled, taking it as a compliment. "I have only grown, James, at least, that's what my mother keeps telling me."

"Are you still living at home, then?"

"Would you like to see the proposals?" James nodded, finally giving in.

"Just, promise me we won't be all business this afternoon? That we'll get this over with quickly so that we can move on to more interesting things…"

"Mr. Potter, I believe you should find that our acquisition of your company is very interesting." She surveyed him, keeping track of all the times he glanced into her eyes. His gaze, she felt with a rather warm feeling that reached the coldest part of her toes, was steady. That's when she remembered that, no matter how obnoxious or self righteous James had been, even if he had acted like a jerk, James Potter had never ever been one to divert his eyes from hers. In a way, Lily had always found this strangely comforting that he would do so. She also realized (upon her own development of a 'silly schoolgirl crush' on him) that he would never gaze at others the same steady, confident-yet-shy way he would look at her. And here he was, more than a decade later, looking at her in the same way.

"I'm all ears, Miss Evans. Please go on with the proposals and projections. I apologize for my forwardness." He smiled teasingly at her, as though it was all a game.

Perhaps it was.

Lily unfolded her brown leather folder and extracted from it the carefully designed projections that she had slaved over for the passed three months. She really badly needed him to take at least this part of their rendez vous seriously. She had literally bled and sweated over the content of these papers.

James didn't need to be told twice, a pleasant surprise to Lily. He not only listened to what she said and responded in the appropriate places, but he also engaged himself, applied himself into the questions he asked, probing all the areas of her presentation, some of which she knew everything about, others which she had fallen short of a decent answer.

James leaned back in his chair, one arm hung over the back of it and the other one was lifting the water-filled wine glass to his lips. He eyed her, looked over more papers, then looked in her direction once more.

"Miss Evans, I'm not sure I am completely satisfied with what I have seen. My great grandfather invested too much of himself, too much of my family, into this for us to happily hand it over to corporate London on a silver platter. Since then, it has always been a battle against time for us Potters to innovate the company in a way that would pique the interest of both our Muggle and Non-Muggle customers. We built relationships with our suppliers and dispatchers, we have strong ties within the communities to which we belong. We are a very humble franchise, Miss Evans, and we aren't very keen on joining the massive force you are representing here, today."

"James, you saw the projectiles…we could triple your sales in less than two years. We could cut manufacturing costs by twenty per cent by next quartile…Mr Potter, we would enable your services and product to reach a whole new global audience. Surely that sounds enticing to you and yours?" He could not be backing out on her, not now, not ever. Didn't he know how much depended on this one deal falling through? Her entire reputation was at stake.

But he isn't here to help a friend, much like I am not, she reminded herself. This is a business meeting, not a time to ask a favor from a fellow Head Boy.

James shook his head lightly. "We don't really want that. We want to provide only for our present audience. Lily, I don't think you truly grasp the reason why my great grandfather started this business in the first place. He wanted to find a way to draw, to lure Muggles and Wizards and Witches onto a common platform so that eventually, all of wizardkind would be as accepting of them as he was, as they should be. Forget about profits: my great grandfather had been, at one point, Minister of Magic. He made enough money to deposit a large sum in a vault at Gringotts, keep some to start up his own company, and leave the rest for his children for when he would die. And when he died, his company had flourished and grown to a size where my grandfather was able to expand that and open up a second branch, and then a third and fourth. And when he died, my father opened twelve branches, not on the premise of making more profit or hitching more sales, but on the notion that wizards are willing to go to places where Muggles shop, they are willing to attempt at a life where there is a common ground between us all. We don't care about profits.

"I am no fool, Lily, I know that I am possibly sitting on a goldmine. But I just can't bring myself to care very much about that. And if I did care at all about money, then I wouldn't be able to dishonor my great grandfather's wishes like that. Bringing the Potter enterprise into corporate London, corporate France, Japan, America, the works, then the homeliness, the intimacy of it all would be ruined. The whole goal of the entrepreneurship would be annihilated and replaced by greed. I just cannot have that."

Lily was ready to scream. Part of her wanted to scream at James for wrecking her one shot at becoming a trusty CEO. The other part of her wanted to scream at James for not having kissed her at all during his ramble. The words flowed effortlessly from his heart. She had never thought that James was capable of all this. He did indeed have a backbone. He did radiate a sort of all around knowledge concerning his company and genealogy. He was passionate about his responsibility. And he was genuine. Never before had a man been so attractive to Lily as the man before her – the same man she had seen with pimples over his thirteen year old forehead, or with a rat tail sprouting from his elbow after a terrible transfiguration class.

Except, she was here on business.

Lily argued, without coming on too strongly of course, that her company would preserve the humbleness and homeliness of the Potter's ever-growing enterprise. She argued over caviar, over salads, soups, French bread, some very fancy, very fruity cake, and, at long last, all the way up the elevator and into James Potter's suite.

"Would you like something to drink? Like water or something," he said after she had officially choked on a dry throat.

"Please. How about some wine?" James eyed her suspiciously and quickly retrieved a bottle from the small fridge. After she sipped on the glass, she turned to James with a dawning of understanding. "Oh," she said, unable to wrap her mind about it fully. "You – you don't want to – you're not here to sell your company, are you James?" When he didn't answer, she went on. "You're only here for-"

"Don't flatter yourself, Evans. Yes, yes I have been longing to see you again, but it is not the sole purpose of our rendez-vous. I honestly am getting tired of running this large enterprise alone. I need help, need someone to take control of some of the reigns."

"So…"

"So the real purpose of this meeting was to see whether or not you would be sufficient enough for my company."

Lily almost dropped her glass of red wine all over the white carpet. "Excuse me?" she was barely able to speak. "W-w-w-what did you j-j-j-ust say?"

James chucked throatily, clearly enjoying himself and her reaction. "I said, I want to hire you, Lily Evans. I want you to be with me. A – er – I mean, well, be with our company."

"James, that, that doesn't make sense, that does. How would you know where I was working?"

James' hazel eyes went three shades lighter. "I have my ways." Clearly, he was just not willing to give it up.

"And how did you know-"

"Lily, I was Head boy with you. You were excellent at it. You're a great leader, an awesome manager, you have a good head about you, you get things done, you know how to motivate others, and…well, you're Lily." She didn't laugh. But, honestly, she would have, had she not been totally overwhelmed.

"James, I can't accept this job offer! Can you imagine what that would look like? Lily Evans goes to buy one company and ends up selling herself to their company! It would completely ruin any prospect of becoming anyone our there!"

James took her glass and set it upon the table, grabbed both her shoulders and helped her over to the couch. He then sat down beside her and glanced evenly into her eyes. "Lily," he began with a lick of his upper lip, "you working for me would honestly be the best thing that could happen to us – to er, me and the company that is." Lily stared, lost transfixed in the way his lips seemed to make every shape of each vowel and consonant like it was the most careful and deliberate action they'd ever do. "It would be a gradual shift. You could, you could tell them that I would rather have you work for me for a while under the goals of your company and then I would eventually reveal to you and your boss that I no longer wish to sell. You could, a while after, tell them that you much rather work under our mission statements than theirs and make the switch." He stopped speaking in a way that ordered Lily to reply, though she, having always been quite the defiant one, did not comply.

Instead, she contented herself with the scene before her. Here she was, six years out of Hogwarts, sitting in a posh French hotel on a white leather sofa in the most expensive suite, currently being rented by none other than James Potter. Oh, and James Potter was sitting in front of her in a very flattering Pierre Cardin suit, his sight weakened by the alcohol, his lazy eye more apparent now than before. She watched as he leaned back against the couch, took off his glasses, and rubbed his face with a furry. Obviously, James Potter hadn't changed.

And after all these years, who would have thought that Lily would meet James. True, she had known who the proprietor of the company was, although she hadn't let her superiors know, and she had known that this meeting would be something of a struggle for self-composure to her. As always, however, Lily would fight 'til the death. She could turn off her woman instincts with a blink of an eye, she could block out memories or silent cries with a sigh. Lily was a machine. Everyone always made a point to tell her.

But yet here she was, with James, Potter mind you, and she was finding it difficult to take his offer seriously simply because of the fact that they were now officially in a good snogging place. The couch of a fancy hotel. Brilliant. How had she managed to let her guard down so long as to not realize that this could actually turn into some sort of disaster, ending with her waking up to a ruffled-hair scrawny twenty-something year old man and her running out of the room with yesterday's makeup running down her eyes? The answer was simple, she knew it, had known it all along.

Any human being will tell you that anything has a weakness. If you look at trees, what do you see? A hole in the trunk where eventually a wild animal will take advantage of and find a way to knock down the tree. James Potter had his weaknesses – his poor eyesight, his inability to keep his lazy eye straight when he was tired, his certain affinity for citrus smells that could distract him from flying well in a game of Quidditch – even though apart from these and a few more, Potter was next to perfect. Even Lily Evans had her flaws. Yes, Lily Evans was most often regarded as a machine, as a perfect creation to replace the normal human for his faults. But, Lily wasn't perfect, she knew that. The only thing Lily could find special about herself is the fact that she was able to manipulate her imperfections into something of a charm, or tune them out like a radio. Except her one true weakness, her Achilles' Heel. James Potter.

He was the only one she'd ever felt unsure about. She never had doubted his abilities to graduate and become successful, nor did she ever second guess his motives for asking her out in seventh year (when she had finally accepted). The only thing she had doubted was her reaction to him. James…had a way of turning grains of sand into a fine white powder and blankets to knives. He was impulsive yet a thorough analyst, which gave him a certain edge that most certainly contributed to his success operating the family enterprise. It was this dual nature about him that had at first drawn Lily to James, and it was that dual nature that had also caused their split. Yet despite their history, despite their spats and regardless of how many times Lily had managed to convince herself that James was simply not the right one for her, she knew that no matter what, there would be no telling whether her arguments would make sense once she came into eyesight of the one James Potter.

Like right now, Lily was about to throw caution to the winds. But she couldn't. She was a go-getter, remember?

"James, I don't think this is a good idea. This not only meaning me sitting on your couch in your private suite, but this as in the proposal. I'm flattered, believe me, I have never felt more honored but I just cannot. Surely you must know why…"

James didn't bother to look out from behind his hands. "What, you're not still on about…well…seventh year summer are you?"

"No,"

"Well I am." And there it was again, that duality.

Lily blinked once, then again, and decided to press the matters further since she hadn't woken in her own bed. "What?"

He turned to face her, this time pushing his butt back towards the corner of the sofa where the back and the armrest met, rested his arm against the uppermost part of the back, and spoke. "It's almost been six years, Lily, and I still wake up thinking about stuff…stuff about you, I mean." His pale face gained a pinkish glow. "Well, not obsessively so, but, you know, I er, I guess it's just that er, I'm still, how do you say…curious about you – us. Curious about us."

"Uhm, James?"

"Yes?"

"What?"

"'What' what?"

"What are you curious about?" she replied, eyes glazed over by her attempts to hide all she was really thinking. Things like, is he curious about what I am like, about what we could be together…

James' black hair moved back. It was odd, but she had noticed all those years ago that, sometimes, if James ever became uncomfortable enough, a muscle in his scalp would twitch and pull back his hair. The thing was, James had so much of it, so much flying all around, that although the twitch wouldn't be visible around his forehead, his mop of hair would flutter. It was cute, really, and quite an empowering feeling whenever she could lure James into a place where he'd become as uncomfortable or embarrassed as he was now.

"About how it could be. How it would be…about…am I mumbling?"

"N – yes. But it's okay, I can comprehend." She smiled. He smiled back.

After a moment of thoughtful silence, his stare plunging into the shallow depths of his nearly finished glass of wine, James looked up again. Placing his eyewear back on the bridge of his nose, he turned to her with new resolution. "Miss Evans, Right Hand Chief to the CEO of the present master of Corporate London. What benefits do you see at this man's side, that you do not foresee being offered by being my equal? Remember, you wouldn't be vice to my president, you would be my partner. The balance," he added as an afterthought.

Lily was about to crack. Of course, her demeanor made no inclination as to confirm this, what with her back stretching up straight, her eyes narrowed to scrutinizing slits. She pursed out her lips as if in deep thought and consideration, a thorough analysis of the situation, but a steady one nonetheless. Unfortunately for her, she was knowingly falling for it. Because, in all rationality, what bad could come out of working for a company where magic was the norm? What good spirited witch would not want to work alongside James to achieve the Potters' goals? What awful events could possibly take place from seeing James Potter every day?

"Mister James Potter. IF this is an attempt to rekindle an old flame, I must say…" James' ears fluttered back slightly, his mop of hair fluttering along accordingly. Lily had no clue how his insides were churning, his heart stopped beating, how he held his breath firmly in his lungs. "You are sly, clever, and flawless in your plans." (A fraction of a smile played on his lips.) "However, should this be your only motives for meeting me here today, I must decline your offer and be heading back to my own hotel room. Should you, however, be able to convince me otherwise, then I will consider the options at hand, and return to you promptly my answer to your proposal." Satisfied with her little speech, Lily refilled her own glass and leaned back comfortably on the couch.

"Lily, I…" He looked in despair, as though he had no clue how to defend himself. She almost felt sorry for him, but she had to make him work. She had slaved over her company's works for the past six months, and with three sentences, he had crumpled that down to something so insignificant. She needed to know this was not one hundred percent self-involved. She had to hear it from him that he really, truly, was looking for a business ally.

"Should I be making my leave, James?"

"No!" he looked up into her eyes. "Stay right where you are. It's something that is proving to be slightly more difficult to vocalize. Let's see, where to start?" He refilled his cup, added a few more drops to hers, and taking small sips here and there, he began. "Four years ago, my last cousin died. All along, she had been helping me with the tasks involved. She was never one to marry, though, and she left behind no heir to her throne, no one to help me with. My father, in his will, was quite spot on with what he wanted me to do with the company. Feed it, let it grow of its own accord, He wants me to let it progress in its life much the way he let me. It's my family jewel, our pride, our baby.

"I need someone to help me, that I figured out the year Mathilda died. But I just couldn't…couldn't find anyone worthy of the position. Sirius is far too reckless. Remus has found himself quite the pleasant employ at the ministry. Pete, well, he's never been the cleverest of us all and that doesn't work in his favor. I went through forty five interviews in three weeks and was so utterly let down that I resolved to do it all my own. I pushed aside my casual Quidditch, stopped showing up to Order meetings, and I just worked non stop for three years. My live-in girlfriend decided to give up on me three months later. She claimed I was being far too gold-oriented." (Lily smiled to herself, privately applauding the fact that he had been as unfortunate as her in that department.) "Last year, I got a message from your boss asking me to meet with him. I agreed to a phone meeting of sorts. And I must say, I was impressed. The man…he was exactly what I needed, but there was no way I could introduce a Muggle to our world, a Muggle who, so late in his life, was still hungry for power. And so I probed around, sending a few choice people inside closed doors to find out who his right hand man was. Lily, I must say, everything took a turn when my spy brought back information about you."

He took a moment to refill his cup, a moment she took advantage of and interjected. "Who was it? The spy?"

He smiled cheekily. "A good employer never reveals that sort of information. Would you like a snack?" She shook her head no, insisting he should move on with his story. "Right. So here I was faced with a few problems. First was the simultaneous opening of three branches. Second was the fact that I hadn't slept properly in over two years. Third, I was getting a slight suit-man pudge right around the middle, and most importantly, I had the opportunity to reacquaint myself with the woman of my life." She tried to concentrate on his chin, on anything but the reddening of her cheeks. Life, as merciless as it often is, spread her shyness to the rest of her body, and she was forced to put down her cup, lest her quaking spill some of the burgundy liquid on the furniture. "Obviously, my motives, Lily, changed the moment I found out who you were. And I apologize for that. I wish I could sit here and honestly tell you that my seeking you and my attempts at recruiting you are totally and utterly business related. But you know me, Lily. I couldn't forgive myself for lying to you. Can you imagine the sort of torture I would be inflicting on myself if I led you to believe it, and all the while, once you agreed, I would be unable to pursue you in any other way? I would be killing myself. Every time I'd arrive at my empty home, I'd imagine you there with me. We'd make supper together, we'd fall asleep before putting on the dishes charm…There is so much we could do together, that I can and want to see myself doing with you, Lily. I can't mislead you. I want you in my life to be my life. And if you'd like to help out with affairs, then, by all means, I'd be glad for it. Do you see? Do you see why I'm telling you this?"

Silence. It seemed indefinite. It was ringing in her ears, allowing her thoughts to scurry from one end of the spectrum (NO! Don't do it! You can't put yourself in this helpless situation!) to the other (FINALLY! How long I've waited to hear him confess this! Jump on it, this is our last chance!). Being Lily, she forced rationality upon herself. She inwardly detailed a list of pros and cons for going along with James and not. Lily found herself almost reprimanding herself for doing so. Why not? Is what it ultimately came down to. What is the worst that could happen?

"James," she slipped off her heels and tucked her feet beneath her. "I'd be lying to you if I stood up and walked away. I'd also be lying to you if I jumped in your arms and told you that everything will be perfect so long as we're together. We have a history, James, and I am sure you remember it quite well. But…" she let her voice fade out, mostly for dramatic effect. From the way his eyebrows were set in a half furrowed, half curved upwards position, to him forcibly pressing his lips together, Lily knew she was the only detail in his line of attention. She delighted in it, reveled in the fact that every move she was making, his mind was recording as a timeless memory. This is the moment that could potentially make all the wrongs in both of their lives, right again.

"But?" he asked expectantly, his voice cracking at the mystery behind the word.

"But…but I don't care right now, James. We're old enough to put all that behind us and start anew. Mister Potter, I accept your invitation to scout out your company, to implement my company's goals and missions whilst working alongside you with your own goals and missions. And then afterwards, I look very forward to you taking me to a nice restaurant, where we will both eat with our fingers and catch up on the old times." Lily stood, finishing off the last of her wine, picking up her shoes as she spoke. "And don't you believe for one second, James Potter, that I will be so nice as to let you get away with not kissing me at the end of every date." He stood now, following her to the door. She was relieved that he played along with the formality of it all, looking so casual in with his overcoat off, his white chemise untucked. Putting on her shoes, she continued to thank him, "for taking the time to consider our proposal. But mostly," she stopped. She couldn't go on.

James proved his maturity then and there. Tucking a very visible loose strand of red hair back behind her ear, James tilted her chin up towards his face, leaned down and said softly, "Thank you for coming back into my life." After a pleasantly light fluttering of lips, James Potter, proud owner of Potters Retail and Lily Evans' heart, opened the door and, placing his hand on her lower back, ushered Lily from his apartment.

"I'll see you in the morning, James." Walking away back towards the metallic doors of the elevator, Lily released a breath she had been holding for six years.