Parisienne et dessinatrice / Parisian and illustrator /// for more illustration follow my Instagram https:/www.istagram.com/constancezin1 and https:/www.istagram.com/constancezin2
Lily paused her drag, taking enough time to hide her surprise at the fact that Petunia Evans– Dursley, now, as of roughly an hour ago– had managed to find her alone in the back alley of the wedding venue, large pastry wedding dress and all. When Lily didn’t answer her sister, Petunia held out her hand and snapped her thumb impatiently.
“Don’t be rude, Lily. Or are you too good to spare a cig?”
“Oh, I’m never too good for my big sister,” Lily rebuked coolly, using her spare hand to dig in her shoulder purse for her pack, fingers brushing past her wand that lay inside. James had withdrawn himself to mirror Sirius about some of the absurdities he’d already been witness to at the wedding ceremony alone, what with Vernon’s sister Marge manhandling him about his apparently scandalously tight Muggle suit in the church and the amount of real cars he’d been able to see up close. Lily decided that indulging herself with a smoke now would prevent the hell of the wedding reception from getting to her later, and now with Petunia waiting impatiently for Lily to light her cigarette with the butt of her own, Lily was grateful she didn’t opt for the joint also resting rolled and ready to go in her bag.
“You shouldn’t smoke, you know,” Lily parrotted back to Petunia when her sister took her own slow inhale, the ghost of a playful smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “It ages you.”
Petunia opened one eye at Lily, almost in boredom. “I just got married. I don’t need any help being aged.”
“S’pose you’re right,” Lily and following Petunia’s lead, she opted to look at everything in the alley but her sister in that stark white gown. She broke the silence after just a few heavy moments between them. “Beautiful ceremony, Petunia. Really.”
“Don’t patronize me,” Petunia snapped, her eyes flaring as she shook off a couple flakes of ash. “The florist has obviously never thought to attempt color coordination in his life, and the organist was off tempo for the whole processional.”
“Well, you seemed pretty happy,” Lily pressed on, then decided that now was as good of a time as any to be bold with her sister. “You are happy, right?”
“If I wasn’t, do you really think I’d be wearing this monstrosity?”
Petunia gestured to the large sleeves draped from her shoulders and to the tacky tool spooled around her waist. Her nose scrunched up in distaste. “Marge loved it, and so did Vernon’s mother, and she payed for it so I really didn’t have much choice in the matter,” she admitted begrudgingly, defensively. “But I’m here and I’m married to a good man and I’m happy. Don’t think so little of me to believe anything less.”
“Alright, alright,” Lily held her hands up in surrender, ready to drop the subject. This wasn’t exactly the peaceful break she’d been searching for– when was the last time she and Petunia had spoken more than a couple of words to each other? Standing next to Petunia in her distinctly bridal gown, contrasting with Lily’s own distinctly not bridesmaid’s dress, felt a bit like rubbing salt on a wound whose existence she was vehemently trying to deny. Lily took another slow drag before Lily opened her mouth again. “I was genuinely curious. No need to freak like that.”
If Petunia noticed Lily’s word choice, she didn’t comment. Instead, she eyed Lily’s thin pink dress and lack of winter coat with some weariness before her gaze flicked down and back up to notice Lily shift her weight from her right foot once again, leaning on the door frame.
“So I’ve been in heels since the crack of dawn, which explains my limp. What explains yours?”
“Excuse me?” Lily’s hand flew up, tucking her hair behind her left ear. Ah, the same old familiar tell. Petunia has known that move since before Lily could string more than four words together.
“At first I thought you just couldn’t help yourself from hanging off that boy, but then I saw you walk out here without him, and now you’re favoring one leg. Spill.”
“It’s nothing. I just fell of my broom,” Lily consoled Petunia. “You always were saying that they were unnatural atrocities. Guess I got what I deserved, didn’t I?”
“You were always a shit liar.”
Lily threw her cigarette on the ground, stamping it out. “You don’t have to pretend to care. I know you stopped doing that a long time ago.”
“I’m not pretending.” Petunia’s unfinished cigarette joined Lily’s on the ground, and she grabbed Lily’s arm in a vice like grip that surprised the both of them. “What happened?”
There was a moment where Lily understood her options. She could lie, as she always did with her family. Like how she lied to her mother about school going well, and how she lied to her family about the real reason she stopped hanging out with Severus (though they didn’t need much of an explanation, having never liked him in the first place). How she lied to Petunia about the war when Petunia cleaned her room one afternoon last summer and saw that morning’s copy of The Daily Prophet resting open on her bed. She could lie, as she’d always done, and things would stay the same as they’ve always been between them.
Or she could tell the truth. Afterall, didn’t Petunia deserve as much? Their relationship, regardless of its current state of ambivalence lined with loathing, had once been something that deserved the truth. Call her a sentimental fool for the thought, but Lily did feel like she owed Petunia something. A gesture of goodwill, a remnant of the past gone by and forgotten.
There was a separate part of her, persistent and sullen, that knew another truth. That this could be the last time she saw Petunia. After all, time left at Hogwarts was running thin. She’d join the resistance, whatever organization they may be, and hide away from Muggle society just as her mother always feared she would. She’d fight, and then what? What would be left of Lily Evans after the war?
Someone needed to know. Their mother was too emotionally unstable after their father’s death, but Petunia? Petunia could know. And it could be one less lie between them, one less brick in the wall that separates them from being the sisters– the best friends– they used to be. Petunia could know, and someone of her old life would understand the trouble she’s found herself in her current one.
Lily ran her hand through her loose hair (and tried not to think of what James would say if he saw that she picked up his nervous tick) as she took a step into the unknown with her lip between her teeth before she admitted her more gruesome truth, quietly. “Slytherins. Kids at school. Got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time alone and had to spend a day in the Hospital Wing.”
Petunia nodded, her eyes steely. They’re odd sights, those grey eyes. Like what their father’s had been. She narrowed them in confusion, or criticism, Lily couldn’t tell. But she knew Petunia understood that she got the truth this time, and Lily could almost hear her make the connections in her own head. If there is one thing Lily understood about her sister, it’s that she always knew more than she let on. Petunia loved to collect knowledge and secrets and scandal– she’d always known more than she’d admit.
“Like that Snape boy? Are they horrible, like him?”
A beat. “Yes. And more so.”
“And James? Is he like that?”
Lily’s face broke into a gentle smile that reaches her eyes, and Petunia once again sees truth there. “No. Not at all. James is…. he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
They stare at each other a moment longer, and new sort of emotional rawness in the air that hadn’t been seen in years. But as quickly as it appeared, it left. Petunia dropped her arm and Lily dropped her gaze back to the ground, and she thought the subject dropped before –
“He’s got a great arse. James.”
Lily’s gentle smile cracked into something new and deviant, cutting into her cheeks. “You have no idea.”
And Petunia, a bag full of surprises this evening, giggled. It wasn’t long before she composed her face back into it’s regular state of impassivity, but it had happened nonetheless and Lily felt a sort of peace establish itself over them. Sighing, Petunia stood a little straighter, adjusting her dress as she did. Again, she evaluated Lily through the corners of her eyes.
“Don’t lean against the wall like that, Lily, you’ll spoil your dress. And give me another smoke.”
Lily obligingly reached back into her purse, pulling out the pack to hand to her sister. Petunia took the whole thing and hurled it across the way right into a deep murky puddle, the little cardboard box landing with a pathetic splash. Lily stared indignantly at the sight, then turned on her sister with a snap.
“What did you do that for? That’s a fresh pack!”
“You didn’t learn anything from Dad, did you? Those’ll be the death of you.”
Lily, a moment away from saying that she didn’t need any help finding her death in the midst of a war, or the fact that death by smoking is likely kinder than the one she’s trying to avoid, found the words dying on her tongue. She doesn’t have to ruin the moment, or the sentiment behind Petunia’s actions. Before she can say anything, however, the door to the alleyway swung open between them, trapping Petunia on the other side. A very frantic and ruffled James Potter appeared in the entrance, his shoulders falling in relief at the sight of Lily.
“Fuck, Lily, I nearly thought to Summon you back in there. You’ve got to come quick. I think I’ve mucked it all up.” He stepped into the alley, grabbing Lily by the arms. “A McLaran isn’t the same as a Cleansweep, is it? That’s like a Muggle broom, right? And that horrid woman cornered me again, asking what my family does, and I couldn’t well say potions manufacturing, could I? And– bleeding hell!”
James jumped back the moment Petunia shoved the door back to reveal herself, an indignant expression shining across her features. James, much to Lily’s chargan, mirrored it in full.
“Merlin and Morgana,” he breathed out as if he’d just seen the Dark Lord himself in the alley. “Warn a bloke next time, would you?”
“Watch your language!” Petunia snapped back. “Normal people will hear you, and in case you forgot, this is in fact my wedding that you’ve supposedly mucked up in there. No one heard your blunder about brooms, did they?”
James rubbed his neck in embarrassment, and Lily nearly smacked herself in the face in exasperation. “Er. Maybe just Vernon…”
“Good lord, you are hopeless” she seethed, sweeping her dress up so she could storm back through the door into her reception, which she surely has been missed from. And as she took a final, wavering look at the couple in the alley, Lily swore, swore, she saw Petunia’s eyes dart down to check out her boyfriend’s ass for herself, but the next moment Petunia was hitting them both with her usual horse-like grimace.
“Don’t dawdle here. People will talk. You’ll make me look worse than he already has,” Petunia warned as she reached her arm out to close the door, and Lily understood their moment to be completely gone, only to be forgotten or remembered however they like.
“Tuney!” Lily called, grabbing her sister’s lacy wrist before it was out of reach. Petunia looked at her in detachment, which Lily suspected was more of a show for James than for her. Lily smiled, trying to convey as much genuineness as she could. “I’m happy for you. I really am.”
“I know,” Petunia replied curtly, and later in life Lily imagines that Tuney smiles back and says, I’m happy for you, too.
But she doesn’t. Petunia Dursley doesn’t say those words, and Lily knows the reason why. Petunia Dursley isn’t happy that Lily left her world, isn’t happy that Lily’s become someone she doesn’t know, isn’t happy that Lily’s in trouble and won’t run from it. She’s not happy for Lily because Lily isn’t coming back to her. But it doesn’t matter that Petunia isn’t happy for her. She could be happy enough for the both of them.
And when Petunia vanished through the doorway in shining, lacy, puffy white, Lily was left with the person whose presence in her heart had managed to mend the brokenness she’d felt after both her childhood best friends abandoned her. She felt James’ hand tug at her elbow, drawing her attention as Lily blinked away the lone tear that had managed to form.
“Did I miss something important?” James asked, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He didn’t need to know much about Lily and Petunia to note the difference in their exchange from their past conversations.
Lily shook her head. “Nothing big,” she lied, snaking her arms around his waist to distract him with a peck on the lips. “So. What did you tell Marge your family does?”
“Nothing.”
“You didn’t tell her anything?”
“No,” James shook his head, mortified. “I said we do nothing. Which isn’t actually a lie, because Mum and Dad don’t work anymore. But then she and that colonel man started fussing about ‘jobless riff-raff’ and I made a run for it.”
Lily laughed easily. “Well, she wasn’t wrong about the riff-raff part. You’ve got trouble written all over you, Potter.”
“And it can be written all over you too, Evans, if you play your cards right.” As if to emphasize his point, James brought his lips to her own, slow and lingering. His hands gripped the dress fabric on her lower back tightly as she drew away and pulled a crooked grin at him.
“Oh, I know this game.” Lily said evenly. “It’s far too easy for me.”
“We don’t have to play games, then.” His hands dropped a little further, and he brought his face to hover over hers, trademark smirk pulling at the corner of his lips and hazel eyes aglow with amusement. “You know, I kind of think Petunia was on to something when she told us to, what, dawdle here for a while.”
“Tell you what,” Lily pushed his face up with her finger squished against his nose, holding him away in place. “We go back in there and act like a nice, sane Muggle couple who know when to shut it about broom models and we can dawdle on the way back to my place all you want. Sound good?”
“You’ve got yourself a deal.” James grinned cheekily down at her before escaping her hold and swooping down to give her another quick kiss. Pulling away, he threw his arm over her shoulder as she led them back inside to the reception.
“Now you’ve got to explain how these Muggles have found a way to make Aguamenti work with chocolate. They’ve got these fantastic little fountains at the dessert table…”
Lily fought the urge to smack her forehead again.
The evening had not lived up to the ceremony they’d planned together years ago, with bouquets of lilies and petunias, their cat Jingle as ring bearer, or Lily as Maid of Honor. Petunia’s groom was leagues away from the prince she’d cooed about, though Lily’s own date was eerily similar in appearance to the raggedy straw doll she’d charmed together as a child, just as unkempt and just as magical. Well, Lily supposed that some details were bound to be lost over the years since then. But when she and James finally stumble out (get chased out, to be more accurate) of the reception hall complete with two bottles of champagne nicked from the bar, Lily actually can’t imagine Petunia’s wedding going any other way.
((on ao3)): I’ve always really believed that Petunia thought of Lily as selfish, and dying was her most selfish act of all. And Petunia has always known more than she claims– seen in ss and ootp, Petunia understands more about the magic world than anyone has given her credit for (actually, anyone but Dumbledore).
Hey guys, as you may know, I love finding and reading Jily fics. This is a blessed fandom as its so active with new fics being written every day but also the archives run pretty deep as its literally been popular for over 20 years.
Back in the day, when fanfic was younger, there was a bunch of different sites for harry potter discussion and also fanfiction. Many of these old sites are (or will be) preserved on Archiveofourown. Check out a full list here.
In regards to Jily fictions there's a sizeable amount in fiction alley and The Unknowable room.
If you are searching on there, as its imported, tagging is very limited and unreliable therefore, I recommend searching by character, either James or Lily, as a lot of shipping fics aren't actually tagged with the ship.
Day 2 of 12 Days of Jily Christmas in July
The Gryffindor sixth years decide to do Twelve Days of Secret Santa. Lily is surprised by how well her Secret Santa seems to know her.
AO3
~3700
The sixth year Gryffindors were sprawled around the otherwise empty common room late one November night when the topic turned to family holiday traditions.
“My family and I all do twelve days of Secret Santa,” Mary said, taking a swig of Remus’s butterbeer as it was the closest bottle to her. Remus merely raised an eyebrow at her as she placed it back in his hand. “I have five siblings, so it’s pretty fun between the eight of us.”
James, an only child, looked awestruck. “Five siblings?”
Mary rolled her eyes. “Yes, Potter. They haven’t disappeared since the last time you asked.”
He leaned back against the hot brick and took another drink of his Firewhisky, still staring at Mary like the idea of growing up around so many other children was a wild one. It was far from the first time he had abruptly been reminded that growing up surrounded by elderly relatives was not the norm.
“We should do that,” Sirius said.
He was lying on his back in front of the roaring fire, head near James’s feet. He had drunk more than the rest of them, but you would never know. Sirius had always handled his liquor well. Lily, face flushed and head spinning, pouted at him jealously.
“We’ve done Secret Santa before,” Marlene pointed out. She was using a large armchair like a couch, curled up sideways with her legs draped over one arm and her head hanging at an uncomfortable angle over the other. On the ground beside her, Lily began to play mindlessly with the soft strands of her dangling blond hair. Marlene either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “Two years ago. With the whole House. I got frogspawn from a first year.”
“We haven’t done twelve days of it,” Peter pointed out.
“Ooh, yes!” Dorcas cheered, already reaching for an abandoned quill near her where she sat atop a table by the window. She picked up someone’s forgotten parchment and began to tear it into little scraps.
“What’s Muner?” Emmeline asked, watching over Dorcas’s shoulder as she began to scribble on the scraps.
“It says Remus,” Dorcas pouted. “I’m writing all our names for the drawing.”
James, Sirius, and Peter all sniggered. Lily glanced around to see that they looked highly amused while Remus seemed vaguely pained.
Emmeline, who rarely drank, sighed and took the quill from Dorcas. “Perhaps I should write the names.”
Dorcas grumbled, but relented.
“How would we handle the logistical problem of Christmas holidays?” Remus asked, watching in mild concern as Mary heaved herself to her feet beside him and set off in search of a hat or vessel of some sort to put the names in.
“We’ll figure it out,” Lily said, nudging his leg with her socked toe. “There’s owls. Or… something.”
Lily nodded. Sirius smirked lazily at her. James kicked his shoulder. Lily realised belatedly Sirius may have been mocking her, Remus, and Dorcas – or at least Dorcas’s drunken penmanship – at the same time.
“Before we start putting names in, we do all want to do this, right?” Emmeline asked as Dorcas began folding all of the papers Emmeline had already written on and Mary popped up with an empty goblet someone must have stolen from the Great Hall.
There was a general sound of consent around the room, and then all the names were in the goblet, and they were all gathered around Mary except for Sirius, who was still sprawled in front of the fire.
“Just chuck me one,” he said lazily.
“Get over here, you lazy mutt,” James grumbled and walked over to heave his protesting best friend to his feet.
Sirius glowered as they came to stand in the group. Lily peered around James, who had ended up beside her, to smirk at Sirius. She wasn’t sure why, but she was sure he deserved to be teased a bit.
“You can’t hold your liquor, Evans,” Sirius told her as if it was new information.
She stuck her tongue out at him, and ended up leaning against James a bit in the process. He didn’t protest.
The goblet was in front of her. Still leaning a bit unsteadily against James, she drew a name. Carefully, she unfolded it, cupping her hand around it to keep anyone else from seeing it. She rolled her eyes and sighed as the bleary name slowly became legible.
Sirius
Great.
-
The logistics of it all did end up being a bit of a problem. In their alcohol-induced enthusiasm for the idea, none of them had stopped to consider that they were all going home for the holidays.
“We could do it before we leave,” Remus suggested at lunch the next day. None of them had made it to breakfast.
“No!” Mary protested immediately.
“That would only give us like a week to figure out twelve gifts!” Dorcas said.
“We could do it after,” Marlene said as she reached across Peter for the jug of pumpkin juice.
“Twelve days of Secret Santa in January? I think not!” Sirius protested sarcastically around a mouthful of roast potatoes.
“You’re a pig, but you’re right,” Mary said.
“We really just need to decide which twelve days will be our twelve days of Christmas,” James pointed out.
“What do you mean?” Lily asked. Somehow, they had ended up beside one another even though the girls had been a good fifteen minutes later than the boys coming down.
James shrugged. “Twelve days of Christmas starts on Christmas Day, right? Traditionally? But Christmas gift-giving is usually more centered on, well, Christmas being the big day. So it seems to me like you’d start twelve days before and end on Christmas Day with the nicest gift for the big reveal.”
Down the table, Mary nodded. “That’s how my family used to do it. Of course, the timeline’s been a bit funny since I’ve been at Hogwarts.”
“But that’s hardly better than doing it all before the holiday!” Dorcas exclaimed. “It’s only, what, four days longer to prepare?”
“If you want to do the big reveal from a distance, sure,” James said.
“What are you talking about now?” Dorcas moaned. She was being extra dramatic because she was the only one Lily’s Hangover Potions didn’t work for.
James laughed at her. “We’re not going to be together for Christmas, Dor. Are we going to let the reveal happen via owl post?”
“It’s two weeks,” Lily said.
“What is?” Peter asked.
“Dorcas is panicking because she thinks she’s only got one week,” Lily explained. “But we’re still in November. We’ve got two weeks, even if we start on the eighth and do the final gift on the Hogwarts Express.”
“That’s reasonable,” Marlene said.
“So, case settled? We’re doing it all before the holidays?” Peter asked.
Everyone agreed.
Remus sighed. “If only someone would have suggested that from the start.”
“Get over it, Muner,” Sirius said, and flung a sausage roll at him.
-
Lily found herself actually very thankful she had drawn Sirius’s name. He was a complicated bloke in that he was moody and funny and dark and light and could be sweet or volatile at the drop of a hat. But he was surprisingly easy to shop for. He liked sweets, and he liked interesting knick knacks; he liked Muggle things, and he liked anything that reminded him of his friends.
She wrote home to her parents on the very first day asking them to send her a load of the best Muggle sweets they could find. They delivered in spectacular fashion. Piles of Curly Wurlys, packages of Spangles, packets of Flying Saucers, Drumstick Lollies, Wham Bars, and an entire container of Fruit Salads. For a brief moment, she considered giving him nothing but sweets for the entire thing. But that would be too little effort on her part, and would leave none for her to enjoy.
When she wrote them back a few days later asking for a Pet Rock, they sent her one with a bewildered request for explanation. When she explained the premise of their gift exchange and requested a Rubik’s Cube, they sent one back along with a load of Muggle reading material including a book of bizarre facts, an anthology of strange historical events, and a book of Muggle magic tricks. They were brilliant, and perfect for Sirius.
The rest she found in Hogsmeade the weekend after they drew names. Except for the motorcycle repair kit. That she ordered from a catalogue rather than ask her parents to send it. Likely, they’d have a heart attack thinking she was joining a group of motorcycle-riding delinquents.
The evening of December seventh, Lily realised something dreadful.
She was sitting cross-legged in her bed with the curtains drawn for secrecy with all of Sirius’s gifts piled around her. There was the deck of cards she’d charmed to switch images whenever shuffled and the photo frame she’d gotten to cycle through a collection of images she’d chosen – mostly of the boys, one of their entire friend group messing around by the lake. There was also the quill that would disguise his handwriting, and the little music box that could only be heard by him.
The rest was all Muggle.
Which was fine. He would love it, she knew.
But she and Mary were the only two Muggle-borns in their friend group. He would figure her out nearly immediately. She groaned.
“Alright, Lily?” Mary called from the privacy of her own bed where she sat doing the same thing.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Lily said. And she was. It wasn’t the end of the world if hers were the most obvious gifts. Sirius would make fun of her, but he wouldn’t be mean about it because she knew she’d actually done a pretty good job for him.
He would just be annoying as all hell. Which really wasn’t anything new.
-
There was a long, thin box waiting for her, hovering at her eye level at the foot of the stairs when she walked down from her dormitory the next morning. She’d sent Sirius’s first gift – the charmed playing cards – flying up to his dormitory in the middle of the night hoping all the boys would already be asleep.
Plucking it out of the air, she opened it to reveal a self-inking quill. It was a pretty standard small gift, but it made Lily smile. She hated inkwells, had an awful habit of knocking them over and making a mess. It was a deep green besides, nearly the same shade as her eyes.
“That’s pretty,” Marlene said when she pulled it out as she settled into her seat in Transfiguration to wait for Professor McGonagall to show up.
“Isn’t it?” Lily asked, twirling it between her fingers with a soft smile. “It was my first gift.”
“Very nice,” Mary agreed.
Lily glanced at the boys sitting a few rows behind. Sirius was shuffling the deck of cards. James was laughing as Peter failed to guess which card would end up on top. Remus was eating a bit of chocolate - his first gift - as he looked on. James looked up and saw Lily watching them. He smiled and nodded at her. She smiled back and turned to face the front when McGonagall walked in.
-
On day two she unwrapped a small notebook that all but accosted her as she ate breakfast in the Great Hall. There was a note in an unrecognizable handwriting explaining it was charmed to organize notes by topic. It was not store bought. Well, the notebook itself was. But the charmwork had been done by her Secret Santa.
Sirius spent most of lunch that day forgetting to eat as he attempted for the third hour straight to solve his Rubik’s Cube. Lily grinned down at her stew as Sirius grumbled his frustration across the table and tossed the cube to Remus to have a go.
The notebook seemed oddly familiar, and it took her most of the day to place why. She was at dinner when it hit her. Someone had mentioned a self-organizing notebook. She couldn’t recall who, but was fairly certain it was one of the boys. But that didn’t mean one of the girls couldn’t have taken inspiration.
When she retired to the dormitory for the night, she grabbed her new self-inking quill and notebook and began to list her friends in order from most likely to least likely.
Remus - quiet, thoughtful, capable
Mary - my best friend, i love her, but maybe not quite her style
Marlene - definitely capable, but probably would give wilder gifts
Sirius - capable, might have been the one bragging about his own notebook, would be funny if we drew each other
Dorcas - not always the most creative person, but a brilliant witch
James - more of a joke gifter than a practical gifter, but definitely capable of the spellwork
Emmeline - probably not
Peter - definitely not
-
Day three produced a glass cutting board waiting at her table when she walked into Potions. She’d recently complained to Dorcas that her old wooden one was scarred and badly in need of replacing, which certainly shifted her rankings.
She studied it closely. It was perfect, and smooth, and had a slight luminescent glow to it as she turned it over in her hands.
“Nice board, Evans,” James said lightly as he walked past her to the table he shared with Sirius.
She nodded, smiling. “It’s lovely.”
“Say, James, isn’t that the same style your father uses?” Sirius asked loftily, stopping next to Lily and making a show of examining it.
She looked up at James. He was looking at Sirius. When he realised she was looking at him, he shifted his attention to the cutting board with a thoughtful frown. He shrugged. “Is it?”
“What did you two get today, then?” Lily asked.
“Funny you ask, Evans,” Sirius said, narrowing his eyes at her.
“What do you mean?” She looked up at him with what she hoped was a bewildered expression on her face.
“I got a book of Muggle magic tricks,” he informed her.
She hummed, and nodded. “Sounds like something anyone might think you’d find entertaining.”
He hummed, and nodded, clearly mocking her. “Sure.”
She rolled her eyes and turned back to James. “What about you?”
He laughed. “I got a plush Quaffle.”
“Haven’t all your gifts been Quidditch related so far?” she asked. He’d gotten a poster of the England national team on day one, and a bottle of broomstick wood polish on day two.
He shrugged again. “I don’t mind. I guess I am kind of the Quidditch guy.”
“I bet Dorcas got you,” Lily told him. “I love her, but she’s the type to put people in boxes.”
“Who do you think got me?” Sirius said loudly.
She frowned at him. “How should I know?”
He laughed. “How indeed.”
Lily rolled her eyes again and turned her back to him.
-
The next few days went much the same. Her gift would appear randomly in front of her at some point during the day, she would open it to find some neat, useful little thing, and go on with her day. At some point, that would inevitably lead to a conversation with at least one of her friends wherein they would exchange guesses.
Sirius, of course, continued to make pointed comments at Lily. When he walked into Charms on day eight with his little music box in hand and loudly told her he couldn’t hear a word she was saying over the ruckus only he could hear, she wanted to strangle him. He had been loudly reading passages from the bizarre Muggle history book every time she was near since he’d opened it two nights ago. It was to the point where she was about to start just chucking his gifts right at his face.
So far she had received another specialised quill (self-inking again, but this one changed ink colour depending on her mood while writing), a charmed bookmark that always remembered exactly where she’d left off, a reading lamp that automatically adjusted the light output depending on the time of day, a glass stirring rod to match her new cutting board, and a book of interesting if seldom-taught charms.
When she set out her newest quill at the beginning of Alchemy, Sirius reached across the aisle with the handwriting-changing quill she’d given him that morning and pretended to swordfight with her.
“Look, Evans. I got a quill today, too! Our Secret Santas have so much in common, don’t they?”
She shot him a scathing look and shoved him out of her space while James rolled his eyes at him.
-
“I swear it’s him,” Mary said.
They were sitting in the Quidditch stands watching the final practice before they left for the holiday.
Lily looked up from her latest Secret Santa gift, a book detailing all the ways Muggle inventions had influenced magical society, to find Mary watching James as he hovered near the ground staring up at the rest of the team flying high above him.
She frowned. “You think James has you?”
Mary side-eyed her. “You haven’t been listening to a word I’ve said, have you?”
Lily smiled guiltily. “Sorry. This is really interesting.”
Mary sighed. “Not for me. He’s got you!”
“What?” Lily looked at James again. He had risen up now to join the rest of the team and was calling out feedback to adjust their flying form. “Why do you think that? There hasn’t been a single impractical gift.”
Mary stared at her. “You’re joking? That boy is not impractical when it comes to you. He’s observant, and half in love with you.”
“Now you’re the one joking,” Lily said, dismissing her assertion. “James Potter hasn’t fancied me since last year.”
“Just because he stopped making a fool of himself about it doesn’t mean he stopped fancying you,” Mary pointed out.
“Maybe,” Lily said. And maybe she kind of hoped Mary wasn’t dead wrong about that. “But I still think Remus is the more thoughtful one.”
“Well, I guess we’ll find out in two days,” Mary said.
“Hello ladies!” Sirius called, climbing the stands towards them. His arms were full of Muggle sweets.
Lily took one look at his stupid smirking face and stood up. “No, I’m not sitting through this again.” She placed her charmed bookmark to keep her place and shoved the book into her bag. “See you later, Mary.”
“What’s the rush, Evans?” Sirius called as she hurried past him. “Don’t you want to join my taste test?”
Lily stubbornly ignored him.
-
There was a different sort of excitement in the air as the Gryffindor sixth years all piled into the same compartment on the train. Sirius had somehow secured the largest compartment so they could host their final gift exchange. She suspected he had intimidated his way into it, but she was willing to overlook that likelihood since the size suited their needs.
They had been traveling for about an hour when the anticipation got to be unbearable and they all began rummaging in their trunks for their gifts.
“Here.” Lily thrust a package at Sirius. “Ho ho ho.”
He gasped dramatically. “It was you? All this time? How ever could I have guessed that?”
“Shut up and open it,” she demanded.
He did as instructed, smirking at her all the while. When he looked down at the unwrapped motorcycle repair kit, his smirk vanished. Slowly, he turned the box over in his hands, inspecting the contents.
“How did you know?” he asked warily as he looked up at her.
“Really? You think you’re quiet when you’re talking about anything that interests you?” she retorted.
He blinked, his face carefully blank. “Thank you, Evans. This is brilliant.”
“You’re welcome,” she said, and looked around the compartment.
Remus and Marlene had exchanged gifts, apparently having gotten each other. She was forcibly shoving a warm, soft blue sweater over his head, the Sneakoscope he’d gotten her sitting beside her on the seat.
Mary was unwrapping a parcel from Emmeline, who was looking over the charmed clock Peter had handed her. Peter was inspecting an odd little trinket Sirius had given him while Dorcas was already reading the book Mary had given her. James had feigned surprise a little more convincingly upon receiving his final gift from Dorcas – a set of customized Quidditch gloves with his name emblazoned on them – than Sirius had.
Which left…
James held out a small box to her.
“I genuinely didn’t suspect you,” she told him.
“I know,” he said, smiling. “Mary told me. I thought, for a moment, Sirius ruined it early on.”
She remembered. “The cutting board.”
He nodded.
She shook her head, shrugging, a bit embarrassed. “I didn’t catch on.”
He smiled and nodded at the box in her hand. “Open it, then.”
She did, unwrapping the little box and tipping the contents gently into her hand.
It was a small figurine. A deer, she realised. A little doe with green eyes curled up in a resting position as if nestled in a soft bed of grass in the forest. When she stroked it wonderingly, it stretched its long neck as if savoring the sensation. She gasped quietly, charmed, and beamed up at him.
“Your Patronus is a doe, right?” he said, looking oddly self-conscious.
She nodded. They'd had a lesson on the Patronus Charm just a few weeks ago. She had mastered it in the first lesson.
“I thought it was pretty,” he admitted. “So I made it for you.”
“Thank you,” she said quietly, looking at the doe nestled comfortably in her hands. “I love it.”
“You’re welcome,” he said equally softly.
Remus asked him a question then, and James turned his head away, and Lily tuned back into the chatter in the compartment.
When they arrived at King’s Cross and everyone began to disembark, Lily surprised James by hugging him, and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
“Thank you, James.”
She didn’t know how to express that she was so very touched by how deeply he knew her.
“I think I had the best Secret Santa experience out of everyone,” she said.
He swallowed thickly and ran a hand through his hair. “I dunno, Lily. I think Sirius had a great twelve days.”
She smiled. “I guess you and I are just the best gift-givers in Gryffindor.”
“I guess so,” he agreed, grinning at her as they walked onto the platform together.
“You told me that we were just friends,” James said to me, all mock-offended. “So why’s she mad?”
I didn’t answer straight away. Just looked down at Mary again, who was moodily pulling papers out of her book. She looked so sad...like a kitten left out in the rain...or something equally as depressing.
“She thinks we were flirting, James,” I mumbled.
"What time?"
“On the Quidditch pitch.”
“Oh, that’s what that was,” Sirius said, dragging every word out like he was being forced to speak. “Merlin, it was exhausting to watch—anyways—back to my problems.”
12 Jily one-shots in 12 days. 7/14-7/25 so my birthday can be part of it, and so I can hopefully do something else for Harry's.
Day 1: The Mistletoe Conspiracy - James and Lily are hounded by bunches of stalking mistletoe. James is going mad trying to work out who in Gryffindor Tower is responsible.
Wordcount: ~2300
Read it on tumblr / AO3
Day 2: 12 Days of Secret Santa
Day 3: A Christmas Wish
Day 4: The Jumper
Day 5: Decorating Duty
Day 6: The First (and Last) Annual Gingerbread House Competition
!!! UNPOPULAR OPINION !!! Sirius is not doing things because 1. His parents would hate it or 2. He thinks Remus would find it cool.... he is doing things because He Fucking Wants To
Kelsey ( @kay-elle-cee ) and I are thrilled to host Jily Week for the third year in a row. After being treated to 80+ creations each of the past two years, we can’t wait to see what all of you talented people will come up with this year. GET EXCITED for the week of August 17th to 23rd!!
To participate, post a creative work corresponding to the daily prompt – fanfiction, fanart, playlists, metas, moodboards, etc. – anything goes! You can participate in as few or as many days as possible, but we challenge everyone to try and create something for every prompt, even if it's only a hundred-word drabble or a 5-minute sketch! Don't stress about meeting the exact prompt or the deadline - the most important thing is to have fun with it!
Remember to tag your works with #jily week 2026, mention @sunshinemarauder and @kay-elle-cee, and add any fic you write to the Jily Week 2026 AO3 Collection.
🌟 PROMPTS:
☀️ Day 1 – 17th of August – Mistaken Identity
Or: when the road to love is obscured by mistaken identities. Secret superhero identities, masquerades, love squares, or wrong numbers can complicate things… but don’t worry, they’ll get there eventually.
☀️ Day 2 – 18th of August – Star Power
Romance is hard as it is, but it can get even more complicated when you’re in the limelight. Put one or both of our favorites in the public eye, and you get a recipe for delicious fanfiction. Make ’em celebs, actors, royals, athletes – anything goes!
☀️ Day 3 – 19th of August – Break Up / Make Up
You’ve heard of Angst vs Fluff – now get ready for Break Up / Make Up. Choose your fighter: break hearts or put them back together?
☀️ Day 4 – 20th of August – Mythos
Whether you choose to modernize your favorite myth or place James and Lily on Mt. Olympus, this is the perfect time to pull out all the obscure folkloric trivia we know you’ve been waiting to put in a story. (Percy Jackson crossovers WELCOMED.)
☀️ Day 5 – 21st of August – Damned to Detention
We all know the Marauders spent much of their Hogwarts years in and out of detention. Though Lily may have been a Prefect, she wasn’t so removed from their antics. Who’s the unlucky one this time?
☀️ Day 6 – 22nd of August – And There Was Only One Bed
You know it — a trope as old as time and a forever favorite.
☀️ Day 7 – 23rd of August – Write a Fic Rec
There’s a wealth of fantastic Jily works out and about. Take a moment to shine the spotlight upon a current fav/recent read/comfort fanfiction. Write the recommendation the author deserves and introduce it to a new audience!
———
Feel free to message either of us or drop an ask if you have questions! 🌟
He was on his way back up to the common room, chilled to the bone and still frustrated, when he turned a corner and nearly collided with Lily Evans herself. He stopped just short of toppling her over; his hand instinctively went to her arm to catch her as she reeled back. Almost immediately, he released her and stepped back.
They both stared in horror as two nearly identical bunches of mistletoe came zooming toward them at breakneck speed, one settling squarely over each of their heads.
The nursery was dark, save for the wedge of light from the hallway, and Harry Potter was having opinions about bedtime.
"Come on, little man," James whispered, swaying on his feet, his glasses askew. "Mummy's been up with you three times already. Give your old man a break, yeah?"
Harry gurgled, then screamed, tiny fists clenched in fury.
James tried singing. He tried the mobile. He tried a warming charm on the milk Lily had left in the fridge. Finally, mercifully, Harry's eyes drifted shut, his breathing settling into the rhythm of deep sleep.
"Thank Merlin," James breathed. He reached for the blanket usually draped over the cot but his fingers found only empty air. He patted around in the darkness, exhausted, until his hand closed on something soft and draped over the back of the chair.
"That'll do," he muttered, shaking it out and draping it over the baby in the cot. It settled strangely, seeming to vanish into the shadows, but James was already stumbling toward his own bed, collapsing beside Lily with a groan.
~~~~~*~~~~
"Lily, love, calm down."
"Calm down? James, he's gone!" Lily was tearing through the nursery, blankets flying, her face pale as death. "The cot's empty! The window's open—"
"It's not open, it's just unlocked."
"Harry!" Lily shrieked, dropping to her knees to check under the cot. "Harry, Mummy's here!"
From somewhere near the center of the room, a muffled, indignant wail rose up, seemingly from nowhere.
James and Lily froze.
The wail came again, accompanied by a rustling sound, and James, slower than usual due to sleep deprivation, finally spotted the shimmering distortion in the air, the way the light bent oddly around the shape of their son.
"Oh," he said weakly.
Lily reached out and yanked. The Invisibility Cloak came away in her hand, revealing Harry, red-faced and furious, waving his fists from where he'd been perfectly concealed in the middle of the cot.
"You," Lily said, turning slowly to her husband, her voice dangerously soft. "Threw. The Cloak. Over our baby."
James held up his hands, backing toward the door. "In my defense, I was very tired!"
"You thought a blanket made of nothing was an appropriate substitute—"
"He was warm! Technically! Cloaks are warm, that's their whole—"
"James Potter, you absolute—"
"I'm sorry!" He scooped Harry up, who immediately grabbed his glasses. "But look at it this way…he's already brilliant at hide and seek. Natural talent. Must get it from his dad."
Lily stared at him, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. Then, despite everything, she laughed, a relieved sound, and collapsed against his shoulder, Harry squished between them.
"Never again," she mumbled into his neck.
"Never," James agreed, kissing her hair.
From beneath the cot, the Invisibility Cloak shimmered innocently, already waiting for its next adventure.
“I don’t understand what you want from me. I keep my distance and you tell me I’m being rude, I speak to her and you tell me I’m bothering her. What do you suggest I actually do?”
“Well, I could push you in the dive hole,” Sirius offers.
“How on earth would that help?” asks James, perplexed.
“It would stop you whining, and I think that would be good for everyone.”
****
Sirius has the World's Worst Day, mainly because he has to spend time with his best friend.
MANY thanks as ever to @bloodonthetracks93 for putting up with me pulling a James and bitching about this chapter constantly for 2 months straight.
Lily Evans' sixth year ends with a bang: after accidentally witnessing classmate Peter Pettigrew transform into a rat, the witch is left drowning in conspiracy theories about the ever-so-mysterious Marauders, at the centre of which stands James Potter and his confusing character. Much more so after the bloke is appointed Head Boy to Lily's Head Girl. What follows is a final year at Hogwarts that upends Lily's tidy little world, forcing her to face fears and insecurities she'd worked very hard to ignore. Amidst a brewing wizarding war, a fight with her best friend, and the tumultuous start of an unexpected romance, Lily suddenly finds herself in the eye of the hurricane, having no choice but to make a decision that will forever change her life.
andulkaphoto
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