A late night story, so don`t judge if it`s not that great.

By the way, I own none of the characters (though I wish I did) but the plot is all mine.

At times like this, she felt weightless. They'd fought those bloody awful Death Eaters and won. And they had been magnificent. She could still remember it; the moment the last spell was cast and they stood there, the victors, she'd been on a high that came from every battle won, and it was addictive; it made them rush into battle without a second thought and if Lily thought about it, it was irrational and stupid. But right now, all she could think about was the adrenaline that still sang in her veins, the wild thrum of giddiness that hung thick in the air and the feel of James next to her. The bartender slid them another glass of firewiskey and Lily eagerly took it into her hands.

"I don't think I've ever seen you drink so much, Lily," James laughed, pulling her closer and dropping a kiss on the tip of her nose. Though they took up the space of two bar stools, they were so close that Lily was very nearly sitting on top of James. Though Lily adamantly refused to just sit on James because 'I am not a dog, I am not going to sit on him'.

"Well, there's a first for everything," she said, turning her head slightly, her hands already tilting the glass so that the burning liquid could fill her with body with warmth and make her head feel light. She set the glass down with a giggle; she really couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this happy. She glanced around, wanting to memorize every single detail of this night, wanting to have this feeling burned into her skin so that it would never leave. And James was looking at her, wanting to remember just how beautiful she looked in that moment, with her red hair mussed and tumbling past her shoulders, the top of her shirt slowly dipping downward, body loose and relaxed because of the firewiskey.

All around them, in the bar, everyone was celebrating the victory. People joked around and laughed, every one of them wanting this night to never end. Every one of them silently hoping that they could stay like this so that they would never have to rejoin the soul-crushing heartbreak that was war.

Sirius was past drunk, and it was true, no one could get wasted the way he did. Lily laughed as he attempted to stand on a table to do Merlin knows what, and he glared at her, but the look held no anger and was really more of a squint.

"What do you think you're doing Sirius?" she called out. He turned around slowly, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to keep his balance and not drop the bottle of firewiskey he clutched in his hand.

"I'm gon be getting' on tha table." He slurred back, as he slowly swayed back and forth, the alcohol making him shaky. Lily wondered if she should help him into a chair, he looked as though he would fall any second now. And she was right.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!?" Remus shouted, as Sirius finally toppled over and had desperately tried to regain his balance and composure by grabbing onto Remus for support.

"Yoo saved me, Moooony, tank yoo,"

"I'm actually very sorry that I saved your drunk arse."

"Moooony, yooo swear when yooo are drunk," Sirius said, as though that was an incredible scientific discovery. Lily couldn't help but giggle.

"We've been getting smashed with Hogsmeade firewiskey for two years and you haven't noticed?" Peter asked, and though he looked a tad pale and those were probably the first words he'd said all night, everyone laughed as though he'd always been a part of the conversation.

"Dose aren't even proper swears, Moooony," Sirius added, "Yoo should try saying fuck or wanker."

"I'll say those when I'm really good and smashed. Give me 30 minutes and you can check back on how vulgar my language is." For a moment Sirius looked confused, and everyone laughed again because that expression was priceless. James, chuckling, leaned over and took Lily's glass, downing the rest of the contents.

"Hey," she protested half-heartedly, pounding gently on his chest, "that was mine."

"You drank more than enough for one night." He told her.

"No I haven't," she protested, but he knew better. She would regret it tomorrow. And to keep her from ordering more firewiskey, James leaned in towards her, letting his eyes slide shut. And instinctively, she closed her eyes too, tilting her head up. And their lips met, not for the first time that night. But while the other kisses had been giddy and wild and fiery, this one was slow and lingering, and tasted of firewiskey. A kiss to acknowledge that though they won the battle, they had still fought and that in itself should be a tragedy.

"You stole my drink," she breathed when she finally pulled away, in desperate need of air.

"You'll thank me tomorrow." He whispered back, and though he was still breathless, he leaned in to capture her lips again. And this time, the kiss was slow and deep and reminded them of how much they loved the taste of each other. And how, soon, just kissing wasn't going to be enough.

A second later, they'd vanished with a loud crack. For a brief moment, it was deathly quiet in the bar.

"Padfoot, you wanker! Five galleons says that they're shagging right now."