Disclaimer: i don't own these characters, or sylvia plath.

The embers of the fire crackled and spluttered, but Lily didn't feel like going to bed just yet. She and James were the last ones up. Everyone else had buggered off, even Sirius, and now it was just the two of them, in silence. It was the kind of warm, comfortable silence that Lily felt on those mornings where she woke up before everyone else and her blankets were wrapped around her like a cocoon. James was re-reading Quidditch Through The Ages for the one millionth time, and she had her battered copy of Sylvia Plath's The Colossus in her hands,but she had long stopped reading it. She was watching the way James bit his lip when he was concentrating, the way he kept one hand in his hair, like if he left it for one moment it would suddenly flatten onto his head. She liked his messy hair. She liked him.

"Good read?" she asked him

"Hmmm? What – oh, yeah, Quidditch?" James gestured to the paperback he was holding. Lily nodded. "Yeah, it's brilliant. I could read it a thousand times over and never get bored."

"That's the best kind of book, isn't it?" she remarked absentmindedly, and he nodded.

"Mmm."

"James?"

"Oui?"

"What're you doing tomorrow?"

He closed his book, and shifted so he was sitting upright, instead of slouched in the armchair.

"Dossing about in Hogsmeade, I s'pose."

"D'you fancy going for a drink?"

"What, with you?"

She nodded, and pulled her legs up so she was sat cross legged on the settee.

"Yeah, alright."

"Excellent," she let out a yawn, "right then. Bed time for me."

James rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands, and his glasses bobbed up and down on his knuckles. "Might go up myself…"

They both got to their feet, limbs heavy with exhaustion. Lily caught his eye as they wandered over to the staircases, walking together, but not touching. The corners of his lips curved into a small smile, and hers followed suit.

"See you in the morning," he said, and nudged her shoulder with his own.

"Night, James," she replied quietly. He smiled again, and began to climb up the stairs.

When he was half way up, between the first year's dormitories and the toilets, it hit up like a ton of bricks. He was going for a drink with Lily Evans. Bloody hell. When he thought about it, he wasn't surprised. He'd been spending more time with her than he had with Sirius recently. Hours and hours, the pair of them in the common room going through patrols, playing Exploding Snap, just talking about…well. they talked about everything. About the war, about how lonely he'd been as a kid (something he'd never told anyone, ever, but Lily wasn't anyone was she?), about Petunia and Severus Snape, about Hemingway and The Ramones. And even when the conversation dried up, when his wit failed him, just sitting next to her was an adventure. And he was going on a date with her, she wanted to spend more time with him. Bloody hell, indeed.

Lily was in bed when she realised she'd asked James Potter out. Her stomach flipped over when the thought formed, and her heart started pumping double-time. It hadn't even been particularly difficult (before, with other boys, it had always been a struggle to get the words out, but with James it was as easy as breathing), and she wasn't even nervous. She liked James, and James liked her, and they could talk for four hours at a time without even stopping for breath. And even on nights like tonight, where they sat on opposite sides of the common room, in silence, it was nice. She'd never found sitting in silence with someone interesting before. Not even with friends; she'd always forced the conversation, talked about whatever came into her head. With James she didn't need to. As she drifted off to sleep, an owl hooted in the darkness.

She was already at the breakfast table when he and the boys came down the next morning. She caught his eye as he sat down, and smiled widely at him.

"What time d'you want to go up later?" she asked, and Sirius nearly choked on his pumpkin juice.

"Where're you and Evans going later, James?" he asked, sniggering.

"A drink," James replied, trying to be nonchalant, "Half ten?"

Lily nodded, and took a bite of toast. Beside her, Mary MacDonald's eyes had widened, but the redhead took no notice.

"Three Broomsticks sound alright?"

"Fine," James shrugged, even though his heart was banging against his ribcage like the bass line of a disco song. Lily smiled at him, a funny half smile that she reserved for him and him alone. Sirius and Peter kept giggling like children, and Remus was smirking into his bacon.

"Right then, kids," Lily said, putting down her fork, "I'm going to get changed – can't go on a date looking like this, can I?"

As she stood, James replied very quietly, "you look lovely."

She laughed. "You're very sweet. I'll meet you in the Entrance Hall?"

"I'll be there," he promised.

He was waiting for her, leant against the wall with his hands in his pockets.

"All right?"

She beamed at him, and tucked a lock of long, red hair behind her ear. "Flying without a broomstick. Yourself?"

He laughed, a twinkly chuckle that made her heart flutter. "Sirius has been giving me so much hassle about this."

"Bad hassle or good hassle?"

"I dunno," he opened the door for her, and a gust of wind whistled through the hall, "Good hassle, I guess? I-can't-believe-you're-going-for-a-drink-with-Lily -Evans hassle?"

"Bless him," Lily replied, "what're they doing today then?"

"Pissing about here, probably. They might go into Hogsmeade at lunchtime, so, uh, we'll have to be out of there by then."

She gave a mock gasp, and caught his thin hand with hers. It felt like an electric shock, and his skin broke out in goose bumps. "Honestly, James, anyone would think that you're embarrassed by me!"

"I'm not embarrassed," he mumbled, and she laughed loudly.

"No, no, I understand," she told him, "It'd be weird, wouldn't it? Our first date, with your mates."

"So this is a date then?" His breaths were shallow, and his heart was in his mouth, because he couldn't quite believe that this was happening, that he was wandering down to Hogsmeade holding hands with Lily Evans. She smiled up at him.

"Why? What did you think it was?"

He ran his free hand through his hair, and she laughed because he was an idiot, but he was her idiot, wasn't he?

"I dunno, I didn't – uh, y'know, I didn't want to assume, or anything."

She cocked her head to one side, taking in his lopsided glasses and his long nose, and the way his hair stuck up like he'd shoved his fingers in an electric socket. It made her head spin, how much she liked him. Every moment with him sort of felt like that evening where she and Mary and Marlene went to a disco and they played Dancing Queen and she'd spun around and everything was, just for those few moments, completely golden. Of course, the squirmy, spinny feeling wouldn't last, she knew that, because nothing ever did, but for now…for now, it was alright.

"This is a date," she replied, grinning, "just, uh, to clear things up."

"Right," he exhaled, and squeezed her hand. He sort of felt like he was dreaming. But the feel of her small hand in his told him he wasn't, that this was as real as real can be.

"So what's your poison?" she asked cheerily, as they turned into the High Street. It had started to drizzle lightly, and James knew instantly that his glasses were going to steam up as soon as they entered the pub, but he didn't really care. She would laugh at him, and that's all he really wanted, for her to laugh at him.

"Butterbeer."

"Be serious!"

"Shacklebolt's Best Sloe Gin."

She laughed so loudly it made a group of first years look round in shock, their mouths slightly agape at the sight of the Head Boy and Girl wandering down Hogsmeade High Street holding hands.

"That's an old man drink!" she cackled, and he pulled her towards him, laughing as he did so. She let out a cry of mock-protest, yelling with laughter, and the first years looked even more confused. For a single second, it looked like they were going to kiss each other, because their noses were practically touching, and his hands were on her waist, and they were breathing the same breaths. Hazel met green, and the air around them stilled. Shit, James thought, I'm about to kiss Lily Evans.

Shit, Lily thought, I'm about to kiss James Potter.

One of the first years let out a giggle, and the wind whistled around their ears again, and they broke apart, both blushing slightly. James ran a hand through his hair like he always did when he was nervous, and Lily tapped her thighs with her fingers.

"So." James said.

"So." she replied. He caught her eye, and a bubble of laughter burst from her lips. It was alright, wasn't it? This. Them. It was alright.

"Sloe gin is not an old man drink," he said, and she cackled again.

"It is!" Lily told him, taking his hand again, "It's an old man drink, I'll prove it to you!"

They took barstools, because the booths were all taken by snogging fourth years. Lily wrinkled her nose at them.

"Ugh. It's like sitting in a laundrette."

"A what?"

"Muggle thing," she replied absentmindedly, "Two butterbeers please Rosmerta?"

Madam Rosmerta, the pretty and plump barmaid, nodded, glasses in hands.

"Hey, Rosmerta," James leant on the bar with his elbow, "is sloe gin an old man's drink?"

The barmaid snorted. "I only ever serve it to old men, yeah."

"Ha!" Lily declared triumphantly, "I told you!"

"Yeah, yeah, alright, you win," he grumbled, but there was a crooked smile on his thin face, and Lily couldn't quite believe that it had taken them this long. How, how had it taken them so long?

"Seriously though, James," she asked as Rosmerta handed them their drinks, "sloe gin?"

"It's refreshing!" he protested, and she laughed.

As the sun set they walked back to school, hand in hand. Lily's cheeks ached from smiling, and James' normally clammy hands were warm, because they'd spent an extraordinary amount of time interlocked with Lily's fiery fingers. She was like a flame, and she flickered and burned around him. Not a flame, then – a firework. Every moment with her was like Bonfire Night, mug of hot chocolate in hand, watching the colours explode above him. He couldn't take his eyes off her. If Sirius had been there, he would've called his best mate pathetic.

"Oh gosh, look at that sunset James!" Lily cried, pointing to the horizon. She stopped still, and they watched as the sky bled pink and orange.

"It's lovely," he said in a low voice, and she looked up at him, smile wide.

"You're lovely."

"You flatter me."

"No," she replied quietly, "no, I don't. You are."

He glanced down at her. Merlin's bollocks, she was beautiful.

"Kiss me," she quoted softly, "and you will see how important I am."

"Sylvia Pl-"

He was cut off, because she stood up on her tip toes and kissed him for the first – but not the last – time.