Lily Evans Potter

[on-borrxwed-time]

Of Nursery Rhymes and Jumping to Conclusions || Lily & James || April 1st, 1980

[on-borrxwed-time]

far-from-wilted:

As Lily reached the top of the steps with James in tow, an overwhelmingly calm, warm, easing sensation swept over her. Tickled her skin, smooth, soft and teasing, lapping against her nerves and causing a faint, pink blush on her cheek. She peered back and up at James as best she could, pearly whites chewing impishly against the bottom corner of her lip. As she was still carrying her wand, she flipped it twice and charmed their dropping curtains to block out the daylight creeping in around them. Trick their minds into thinking it was only evening, past twilight.

“What, like you don’t like Hephaestus? I’m really offended! Perhaps Sagittarius, keep the Divination teacher blubbering about bright futures. Set him up to get great grades already with a name like that.” She huffed, struggling to keep a straight face. “S’just Mum who loved floral names. She’d have begged our kid to be named Violet or even Peony or Rosie to keep a garden growing of her relatives.” She tilted her head, grinning nostalgically at that. Her parents would’ve been thrilled they were having a boy. It was a shame the Evanses would never meet her child, nor Petunia’s- she was expecting, so Lily had heard.

Once the redhead sat her wand down on the side table, then whirled to pull James towards the bed, smoothing back his wild dark hair as her eyes kept stuck on his for a second - unable to keep her lips from dancing into a grin. “What sorta names D’you want to add to our list, then? Tell me the simple, And if it’s fate something’ll stick. Or he’ll be like you lot and go by a nickname his mates give him.. like a bloody animal.”

She guided him past the moving portrait of them swaying together, laughing in silence as they both tried to reach for the camera lens. To the right, a collage of photographs needed to remind them of how much they had when so many struggled to maintain any sort of love. The four Marauders lined up at their wedding, in the very front of the guests portrait- wands sparkling like fireflies. Road trips, order outings, Muggle experience excursions. The time when Lily showed James her shit Muggle car back home, and when they got stuck in the mud on a winding, one-lane farm road, and she told James the best way to get the car out was to push the good ole manual Muggle way. She couldn’t allow this haven to be tarnished, no matter what would try and wreck what they had achieved against all odds.

Smooth, poised, Lily shot James a look and slid onto the bed, smoothing over the covers. “Fuck off any daytime meetings and c’mere. You wanted sleep..? Come try and get it.” She said haughtily with a smirk, shrugging off her robe and tossing it to the side, running one smooth leg over the other. Truth be told, she couldn’t rest soundly without him there anyway, the night before, although she’d scarcely admit it to him. Her hand reached out for his, fingers spreading til her thumb grazed over his knuckles, bringing them up to her lips and pressing them for a slow kiss.

From the moment Lily has started leading him upstairs it was obvious to James what she was planning. The gleam in her eyes was familiar enough and was a yet another proof that she was not cross with him. Willingly letting her guide him, he listened how she fretted over a possible name. It has brought a smile to his lips of a different kind, one that was more gentle, more mature and father-like. 

‘What would you say about John? Or Paul? Or maybe Matthew so you wouldn’t want to accuse me of trying to raise another generation of the Beatles?’ He could come up with several more possibilities on spot, but he could also understand her meaning. There was a possibility that they will just know the name of their child the minute both of them lied eyes on him. They might decide that it’s going to be Micheal, but the name might simply not fit forcing them to come up with another. And besides settling on one was such a great deal…

Despite what others might say, James actually thought that flower names were beautiful. Not only because she had actually married Lily and was so completely wrapped around her pinky, but because those names at least had a meaning that was not hidden under a heavy weight of long forgotten Latin or Norse. No, Lily was a beautiful name because it made sense, it was tangible to some extent even. ‘I actually think that Rosie and Violet are great. Though Peony might be really unique and one of a kind. We should think about having another baby right after this one is born.’ 

He watched as she darkened the room and claimed the bed inviting him to join. He wanted to sleep, his eyes dry behind the eyelids and heavy with exhaustion, but the sight of his wife enticing him with her body was too much to pass up on.  

‘So you want to keep me from my beauty sleep? How devious of you!’ Sleep forgotten and all the exhaustion pushed to the back of his mind, he moved to the bed grabbing her hand before taking a spot right next to her. As Lily kept pressing kisses to his skin, he used his other hand to pull her towards him and more to the side making it easier to navigate their bodies without putting too much pressure on her belly. ‘So which name did you liked the most?’ Coming back to the previously cut off subject has been used by his as a way to give her lips another purpose. Not waiting for her answer he leaned his head close to her chest to litter her skin with kisses of his own. 

[far-from-wilted-blog]

Lily’s head was still spinning, thinking of the fact that they were having a bouncing baby boy. Would he grow up top of the class? A soldier, should the war - dreadfully - still be going on? No, she couldn’t let that happen.

Their child’s future- their son’s future - wasn’t meant for uncertainty and constant turmoil.

So, Lily tried to tell herself with confidence, thusly dictating to the babe growing inside her, that the Order and the Ministry were forming an evolving powerhouse. Despite the terrors she’d seen face-to-face, the young Mrs Potter had to have a constant reminder that their organisations were gaining strength. Something to be able to close her eyes at night to, tangled up with James and their cat. Instead of masking over the fact that the Death Eaters were indeed gaining power as well, a very pregnant Lily was now, more than ever, ready to improve her son’s future life. She wouldn’t allow him to be anything other than a normally extraordinary, very loved boy, with all the prospects of a strong future ahead of him. 

As James moved onto the bed with her, Lily’s muscles relaxed and she let out a shaky sigh. Every husky word James uttered from his lips brought Lily under a spell of a new caliber. She ran her hand through his dark curls, pushing his head down further with a naughty smirk. “You know, we could have a James Junior.” She teased, her haughtiness fading less than she’d hoped with the word would’ve carried from the feeling of his lips against her skin. “But I like Henry.. or something simple and sweet. Any ideas?”

[atwistedoldfriend]

Let’s Spend the Night Together ||Lily & Old Friend

[atwistedoldfriend]

far-from-wilted:

Lily was shaking, head spinning, his haunting voice only found deep within the confines of her memory now blaring at her - feeling more like an electric shock with every syllable he spoke. Glistening eyes blurred as he cut at her knees, and squeezed shut as she let out a frantic cry for help, a scream, a grinding teeth growl of rage and pain. “Cowardly prick- let me out of this bond now and we’ll see how weak I a–” Her words were running, rushing, escalating pitch and frantic severity as her bloody wrists slipped against the enchanted bindings. If her knees gave way completely, her hands would swell and numb, and she was worried she wouldn’t be able to push herself back up from such a state. 

Where was her wand? Surely she could try to writhe free. Wandless magic was incredibly difficult, especially with too much discipline and control to muster during a time such as this. As she’d read - wandless magic is like riding a bike with no hands. During an earthquake. Mumbling a spell to herself, she closed her throbbing green eyes and just as she lashed against the bindings, Lily experienced a pain like no other. Her whole shoulder radiated the worst pain imaginable. Burning, stinging, electric, cutting, slicing, sharp and dull sensations all at once. She let out a stifled moan, barely able to even breathe from the pain, lips parted in silence as she could barely look over to him. His attack points were inching in, a finely manicured pattern in his masterpiece display. Of course, she didn’t know what he could do to her unborn baby, she never knew the mysterious Old Friend’s limitations. Their sick and twisted game of cat and mouse now left her with less might and finesse. No longer as nimble, Lily would keep fighting until it meant the baby wouldn’t be harmed. Wouldn’t even be able to hear its mother’s agony. But the fear of it all, the utter helplessness of remaining stuck against the comfort of her bedsheets, was overwhelming. 

Her body contorted like a dancer’s, Lily’s knees gave way as the searing pain of her shoulder intensified. Just behind the masked figure, she saw a moving picture on the wall smile back at her. Laugh, even. Slow motion, dancing James and Lily, flirting with each other as James hammed it up for the photographer. “James!” Her vocal chords broke from shrieking too loud, in vain pleading for him to come home by some odd miracle.  Just as she heard herself beg for her husband to return home to her, she tried to find any comfort she’d know he’d give her. Courage. Stay up. Keep fighting. Lure him in, get him while you can. She gnashed her teeth together and leaned forward, towards her masked stalker. Her speech slurred from the pain, her words wouldn’t come out right, but she glared at him all the same, hissing and panting as her shoulder writhed, chest bucking, “Let me- let me go- you aren’t allowing your glorious moment to live up to its full potential-” A mixture of trembling, yelping, huffing, she managed to speak. Her shoulder had drooped tremendously, arm giving way at any feeling as she slithered towards him as best she could, peeking down at her belly a moment. “I’m familiar with your gifts, but I haven’t-” she struggled to breathe,  but pursed her lips and forced out a sharp huff against the cool mask, adrenaline kicking in despite the tears welling in her eyes, “I want- to give you a gift…”

“I want—to give you a gift.”

Such temptation. He couldn’t deny the way his own pulse picked up at the words, not because she had anything to give him beyond the screams that he could take at will, but because she was trying to play him. It was marvelous. So often his victims were no different than the animals he’d tormented as a child. Like calves to the slaughter, they bellowed and thrashed, but ultimately they were no more fascinating.

Until he met one like Lily. A victim that tried to think through the pain. He could only imagine where her mind had gone, how those cogs were spinning as she tried to outmaneuver and outwit him. It turned his game into a dance, and every step was calculated. Careful. The balance of power was tilted dramatically in his favor, but one misstep, one wrong twist, could tip that balance into her favor.

He licked his lips, thinking about it, weighing the consequences. Unfortunately for her, there was no possible outcome, nothing she could offer him, that made the temptation worth the risk. So he silenced her with a flick of his wand and a silent langlock, removing her ability to tempt him further.

The room was filled with her ragged breathing and muted grunts of pain, and he almost sighed in relief. As thrilling as a scream could be, he’d learned from her, that there was something indefinably appealing about knowing that she was in agony, and yet denying her the ability to even hear it. There was hope in sound after all. A random passerby, a friend, an animal, so many interruptions existed in the presence of a scream. Even with charms in place, sound could still escape.

Their first encounter had been silent. He’d relived it often because there had been something different in the way that she’d expressed her pain. She’d taught him to appreciate the finer qualities of silence, and while he was by no means through listening to her screams, her attempts to lure him into more dangerous waters meant that she was still too cognizant and in tune with her faculties to give him what he wanted. Painful screams weren’t enough to sat the darkness that churned in his gut, always craving more. It was ravenous for something deeper—for the kind of desperation that existed at the end of hope, when death looms, and the energy is sapped. He wanted to hear the bitterness of defeat in her dulcet tones, so clearly he would have to do better.

He flicked his and at her feet, another flesh rending spell dancing along his tongue. It was so easy to overlook extremities, but they were such sensitive parts of the body. Pain in those areas tended to radiate farther. Deeper. “No need to give me anything Mrs. Potter. I will take what I want, whether you wish it or not, and I will enjoy every moment of the reaping.” He promised softly, turning his wand back to her hands where he summoned scalding water to sluice over those grasping fingers. And all the while, the ropes of the incarcerus spell twisted and twined, pulling ever tighter, responding to her struggles like a living thing, its sole purpose to bind and contain.

[far-from-wilted-blog]

Lily thrashed now, once the even slight gleam of hope she kept within her wildly twisting and thrusting to try and break free - flickering out like a candle against a gust of sudden breeze. She even felt her little baby kicking inside her - perhaps her child could feel its mother’s adrenaline speeding, racehorse pace, and the pain radiate down to it. One of the last things Lily would ever belittle herself to do at a time like this was cry. She was the kind of woman who cried with a smile on her face, just to herself -- Once, from an genius holiday season Muggle ad whilst insisting on taking the tube instead of apparating. Another, after James proposed and she left her parents’ house after telling them the news and couldn’t believe that her life had seemed so lucky. 

This time, her Old Friend tore the tears away from her, and steal them he did. 

This torture, subjecting her mind and body to an almost otherworldly being who craved to see her destruction, her submission was an exhausting sensation Lily had never known existed. He was smart. Dedicated. Agile. Innovative. If Lily wasn’t so distracted with pain to even gather her thoughts, she would’ve wondered what the world had missed if he decided to be inherently good. Although human nature could be found as deeply rooted, Lily was a stubborn believer in the power of choice. 

So evocative, this Old Friend was throughout their unholy relationship, that he managed to make Lily crave a new level of violence - a thing she would never condone. All she wanted to do was hurt him. Rip off his delicately curved, rose petaled mask, gouge out his eyes through the intricate material’s holes - those eyes that gleamed and hazed, eerily following her when she least expected it. Take away one of his favourite senses, deprive him of seeing such craftsmanship he’d inflicted on her. That would only be the start. 

She felt her eyes nearly pop out of her own head, pearl teeth clenched in a gutteral grown of agony as she sank further down, the weight of her wrists tearing at the rubbed raw bits of skin that lapped against the magical bonds. Sweat beaded against her forehead, the world tilted and her gaze temporarily fuzzed. She desperately tilted her head in her intruder’s direction, opening her mouth wide, trying to ‘Accio’ her wand. Think of any spell she could in her state. Not a sound came out. She tried again, whining in fear and a newfound rage, as if to shout James’ name into the void once more. He had to hear her, as unrealistic as it was. But as she pushed out all the air within her hollow chest, only to hear nothing, the hot tears dripped feverishly down her cheeks. As he uttered another spell, Lily looked possessed, brow crinkled, lips pursed and gaping open as if in awe, instinct kicking in. Her limbs were burning, searing, she forgot time and place, body vibrating. And she screamed, begged, pleaded, only to get the scalding water on her hands. Pale, thin fingers stretched and reached up and out to him, and she fully slumped against the bed she once felt so safe and secure in, not even allotted a moment’s rest. The pain was ceaseless, fingers now an eerie shade of white and blotched red, Lily whimpered and paled as they blistered over, seizing up. How could she live through this, now? What else had he in store from her, tied up, subjected to his whims? This was the moment when her darkness crept into her, when she felt herself begin to succumb, and submit to his whimsies.

Then, a bang from the corridor. Perhaps she was imagining it. A mind is a powerful tool, tricking the redhead into hearing the deep shout of her husband coming through with Sirius, or Remus, or Moody. Her knees gave way as she nearly fainted, knees turning blue from the circulation against the bindings, heart still hammering away. Unfortunately, the sound was just her kitten at the other side of the door, clawing at the wood trying to come for a visit, blissfully unaware of the twisted ordeal, jumping from their hallway table and knocking over a house plant. 

[far-from-wilted-blog]

Collision Act |Severus & Lily | Stripper!AU

[notlibatiusborage]

far-from-wilted:

“I’m /beneath/ you already, or have you forgotten your previous sentiments? What’re you doing nowadays, concocting drinks for the same men you just kicked in the bollocks?” Lily’s fingers flexed as she quickly peered down at her flushed arm, rouge rings forming around her trembling wrist where he held her. She couldn’t tell what she specifically felt more within her to quake: rage, shock, a flurry of unlocked emotions she wasn’t prepared to face when colliding with Severus Snape of all people, particularly in all places such as this.

Eyes snapped onto his murkier pair. Even in the time she hadn’t seen him, she could tell Snape had sprouted, evolved. Her attention stayed on him, boring in to try and reduce him back into the sweet boy who she thought would always know her best. “If you’ve /ever/ known /anything/ about me, Severus, its’ that a woman has a right to be whatever she pleases and find power at any kind of work she does. It doesn’t make her anything less. The money’s good, I don’t feel violated, I’m intellectually stimulated people-watching here. Anthropological study, if you will.” She found herself stumbling over her words, speaking fast and sharp. “Reducing the idiots who need to come here and pay for a show to jelly, seeing what ridiculous information they let slip through their slobbering lips. I’m taking what I want out of it, and I don’t need you here defending me like you have my best interest at heart.” 

She twirled the dressing gown’s belt in her hand, whipping it slightly as she contemplated fully putting on the robe. Despite the fact that she was nearly naked in front of him, a part of her stubborn redheaded senses craved to defy his attempt at covering her up. She was there, she was real, he couldn’t avoid her, no matter how may times the both of them had tried to hide away within their separate lives. Just to flaunt her defiance in his face, Lily rolled her shoulders back and smoothed her flowing locks over her shoulder, letting the silk material of the robe slink down her shoulders and pool in a puddle at her feet. “What’re you sorry for? Go’on, then.” She muttered, lips twitching as she felt a small blush creep up on her neck, her skin prickle and rise as she crossed her arms. “Prove it.” She squinted in a glare. 

“that’s not true.” The answer was instant and immediate. It took even less thought than it had to say..what he had. “That’s not true you’re not beneath me. You never were and you must kno-” He looked back towards the where the room would hae been if the walls weren’t there. “I’m studying. This is just a job, Lily.” He felt his lips tighten at the realisation that he’d fallen almost completely into the trap. if it was a job for him, why wasn’t it for her? “It’s not about ruddy, women’s power it’s…there are some not nice people here. I know what I’m doing here, Lily. I can handle them if they kick off.” 

That hurt a lot, “I do have your best interes- I’ve got nothing BUT your best interests at heart, Lils. “ He watched the silk slide off her shoulders and an ugly blush high on his sallow cheecks made his anger seem like embarassment. He balled his fists again, took a few deep breaths and exhaled some fo the tension. Enough to open hs hands at least. “I’m sorry for what I called you. I really am, Lils.” He was nothing but honest now. He really hoped she was ready to listen this time.

How di dhe prove that though. he looked down at himself, as though he was the one in barely any clothing, not her. he needed to prove he had changed, but he knew that outwardly he didn’t seem to have. And working here didnt really invite her to think favourably of him. His eyes refocussed, staring at the ground more determinedly now as he bent and knelt down like a supplicant at an altar, slightly uncomfortable on his knees and in these boots, but not uncomfortable at all compared to the look Lily had been fixing on him.  He looked up at her. “Please, Lily.”

[far-from-wilted-blog]

Lily wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not when he said it wasn’t true. Sure, her cutting him off completely for calling her those words when they were young was a drastic, hard-hitting decision, but at the time she was beginning to see their rather knotted friendship begin to unravel already. How strange a phenomenon society was, pushing two people together and ensnaring them, binding them to each other, then ripping them apart when evolving social circles, expectations, and influences prick and prod. 

“This is just a job for me, too- not all of us have influential new pricks for friends-” She took her time, tilting her head and steadying her breathing as best she could, failing to steer clear of trembling. She couldn’t allow him to see her crack- despite the circumstances, she was doing so well to try and hold any sort of power or prowess over the much taller of the two. The blush on his cheeks, the clench of his fists, the stumbling over his smooth, low words, caused her fair cheeks to flush and creep up on her. Skeptical as ever, afraid of the fact she wished she could give him another chance, she swallowed hard and braced herself as he kneeled before her. A looming knight, of sorts, pledging his oath to a woman who didn’t need, nor want, to be saved. “You’re a lot better than this, Severus. We were a lot better than this with each other.” She scowled, clicking her heels as she shifted weight onto her other foot before him as she took a step closer. 

The second she caught his eye, and he looked up at her and said her name, her lips parted and the glare faltered for a split second. Enough to show him the same expression gave him when they first met in the playground. Eyes never aged, only the memories within them.  Fuck. The word blared in her ears, and she leaned forward, tilting up his chin to cast the blaring ceiling light on him – to get a clear look at the man before her and find all the memories in him. 

The thing she didn’t want to have happen started happening as she leaned in, face growing hot and eyes squinting at his. Stinging face. Glistening pupils. An annoying punch at her chest. “Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like if you didn’t think what you did… Obviously you were thinkin’ it, at the time, or you wouldn’t have said it.” She whispered. “Where we’d be. Sometimes I miss telling you about only things I know you’d appreciate. Comin’ to you when my parents passed.” 

She blinked a few more times, forcing out a harsh sigh as her sharp face softened only slightly, subconsciously. “It’s difficult to forgive and forget. It’s not just the name you called me, it’s the years of us avoiding each other that’ve cemented this shite. It’ll take some time to believe you, and that depends on what you do with our little situation..” 

[notlibatiusborage]

The artificial lights shone down on him as she touched his face and his skin seemed to prickle. He’d missed Lily’s eyes, and he held them hungrily for a moment. He wasn’t one for touching in most cases, but he had missed just being, and someone understanding his being. He wanted to hug her around the waist and pull her close but she was still wearing so little and he was still not sure she would want anything he could offer. Not after what he had said.

His hair fell back a little, exposing his angular features: too-big nose, too-sallow skin, too-thin lips parting to reveal too-crooked teeth. His dark serious eyebrows above dark serious eyes drew down slightly and he looked away from her. “I didn’t mean what I said. I was…under a lot of stress and I know that’s no excuse but…”

But at school all he would hear was people talking about the problems people like Lily’s parents caused. And obviously they didn’t mean Lily’s parents. They were talking about the majority. Not the law abiding minority. Or so he’d thought.

But somewhere along the way, the rhetoric had got into his mouth, and once it had got in there it had spread until he’d called her what he had. And then he’d been in deep and he knew half the reason for his tattoo on his elbow hadn’t been a simple pride in his county, but a different kind of pride that he didn’t even qualify properly for in the eyes of some people. He’d just wanted to have somewhere to be. Like he’d always had around Lily.

“I know.” Maybe he should have reached out to her. She hadn’t known about him for years, but he’d followed her progress- distantly but carefully, like a wildlife photographer. “I’m sorry about your parents.” His father had died in the intervening time too, but he didn’t need a shoulder to cry on for that, he needed a confession booth and he wasn’t a Catholic.

He rocked back on his heels and slowly stood, until he was at her height again. “Just-” promise me you won’t do any of the lucrative parts of this job? Let me look after you? He didn’t even know what condition he wanted to attach to this acquiescence so he swallowed it. “I know it’s just a job but please be careful, Lils. And- ” did he dare tell her? He had to. He steeled himself and met her gaze firmly “It might not be a good idea to tell clients everything about yourself. I know you’re not ashamed but-” he inclined his head a little. “Even in London some people are…ignorant.”

[far-from-wilted-blog]

There. Did she catch it before this feeling left her? That very moment Severus’s eyes snapped up at hers, Lily swore for a fleeting second she could actually scrape down any bit of Snape that grew over the years and whittle him down to the boy she couldn’t imagine being without - as a naive child- made her stomach twist all the same. If she was any younger, Lily would have quickly sprinted out of that room and wouldn’t have even stopped walking once she got on her train- racing down each car until she couldn’t get away from him any further. But here, feeling his shaky breaths mix with hers, her feet were cemented into the floor. 

“I’m sorry about your parents.”

Although her porcelain skin remained softened, doll-round and wide eyed, the second she heard his low, scratching voice say his condolences she cracked. When she found out about her parents’ death, Lily was told it’d merely been an accident. Growing up within her community, she was unable to erase memories of prejudice -- from being refused service in pubs, to being spat at by local boys, bullied in the school once other students found out what her blood was. Her kind didn’t deserve to be part of this community-- so she’d been told over and over again. Her skin grew thick and hardened, any cutting words turned dull. But something didn’t sit right about the circumstances of Mr. and Mrs. Evans’ deaths. Haunted her, in the still of the night, crept up in her, like two ghosts with their arms outstretched, never able to speak to her, hold her, give her advice as she battled the challenges of growing up. What would her father say to her now? How would her mother say she should treat Severus? Severus knew her parents better than anyone else - other than Petunia, growing up- and she couldn’t even bring herself to inviting him to their funeral, as much as she wished she could forgive him and do it, she wouldn’t. 

He didn’t deserve to see her cry about the tragedy, least of all when her limbs were covered in dewy highlighter and her outfit gleamed when she moved. Here, in the back stage and storage room of a club she had to appear strong inside. Her investigative pursuits would be ruined if she cried. Her eyes clouded and welled, and as he stepped away and he gave her his version of advice, by concealing who she was around her clients, she rolled her shoulders back defiantly. “I am who I am, Severus.” She murmured smoothly, voice lower. “Don’t you see? We’re made of the same material. We all work for a living. And if I didn’t take your advice, and people call me a pikey, what would you do, then?” She said quicker than she expected, then moved away from him, deciding to take pull her hair up flustered, agitated. “For some reason, I don’t see you stepping up. We’re all creatures of habit.”    She stepped behind one of the changing areas, head still visible as she shimmied out of her outfit behind the thick canvas, reaching for her cotton dress and sweatshirt, eyes looking back at his.  

[on-borrxwed-time]

Of Nursery Rhymes and Jumping to Conclusions || Lily & James || April 1st, 1980

[on-borrxwed-time]

far-from-wilted:

“I’m going to be stuck with two of you. Tuney’s attempt at cursing my future ended up being right.” Lily teased smoothly as the corners of her lips ever so slightly raised into a gentle, sweet smile, words soft and quiet within the confines of their entryway as she slowly rocked with him in the dim morning light. “Now, now- don’t need to make another excuse, love. We’ll laugh about this one day when we’re grey haired, I’m not gonna be cross with you til then.” She pressed her forehead against his, fingertips drifting over the tired material of his shirt, his aching and sleepy limbs. He must’ve been beat, after all, the young Order member’d barely had any hours of sleep throughout the entirety of the night. To be fair, Lily had a hard time sleeping soundly lately whenever James was away. Nightmares crept in through the brick walls, and as independent as Lily believed herself to be, she was quickly evolving into a family woman. A woman who needed to make sure everyone she loved was safe, secure, comfortable, at peace. Struggling to get through the days and nights, with hollowed out eyes and escalating tensions, threatened the little shot at normalcy the newlyweds sought to keep for themselves. 

This moment, caught up with the boy who used to make her blood boil, made everything worth it. Every fear, every pain, every single risk. Sure, they could run away from the conflict, the two of them - now three. Try and forget everything horrible had ever happened. But the thing she loved about James, one of many aspects, was his incessant need to ruthlessly fight for those he cared for. She’d be damned if she wasn’t going to face their lives head-on. They weren’t the type to cower. 

Here, swept up in his arms, Lily Potter finally found it easier to block the demons in her head and temporarily replace them radiating love. 

Lily flipped her river of bright red hair to cascade down the small of her back, Her plush lips left traces of lingering kisses over his jaw, down the sensitive veins of his neck and lightly nipping on his collar, toying with him, finding amusement and awe as her hands wandered over his sides. She let out a loud jingle of a laugh, instant flashbacks of the pranks she’d become accustomed to subjecting James to. “Jinxing the armour suits to chase you through Hogwarts grounds on Head Boy duty, replacing your drinks with Bertie Botts Every Flavour Bogie Bean melted down..” She purred, hand curling into his curls, pushing them away from his face. “Pretending I broke your broom just to give ya a new model. That was a bit far. I’ve only learned to trick you just by observing your years of shite!” She steered him away from the doorway, walking backwards as she began to pull him, inch after inch, up the stairs. 

When he mentioned baby names, her eyes lit up again. “Names, names, names. I’ve heard every suggestion- from traditional magical recommendations like Merlin - Merlin, for Godric’s sake-” She made a face, “To Promethius - Agamemnon- yikes.” She laughed, “What do you think? Hard to name a baby without properly meeting him! He could look like someone entirely different.”  

‘Merlin’s beard, you are so full of rubbish.’ He chuckled at her words, pushing his face into the soft crook of her neck, tickling her skin with his breath. ‘I bet you can’t think of anything better than having the two of us in your life.’ But as he was teasing her, he moved slightly away from her and his eyes took on an impish glint. ‘Especially if he’s going to grow up to be like his papa. He’d be a force to be reckoned with at Hogwarts and mommy’s boy when back here. I’ll teach him to make the best puppy eyes so you’re never too cross with him.’

He was only teasing her, though. He had known first hand that being raised with barely any restrictions was not a good plan and not only for the parents. If there was anything he was going to teach his baby boy, then it was going to be how to respect others, be a good person, all his studying tricks and how to be happy. At least he was hoping that all that was teachable, but he still had years or trials and errors ahead. He couldn’t wait to spend his life with those two amazing people.

He laughed with her  at the memories of their school time shenanigans. It was such a different time, filled to the brim with laughter and adventure and he would love to go back to those times, only with several improvements. 

His hands moved to grab hers so that backward walking wasn’t quite as hard. ‘You know… With how hard you’d been pranking me back then, I was fairly sure you were joking when you agreed to go out with me.’ Though perhaps it was Sirius’ fault too, because he had been insisting that it was all just a set up and that James should forget about it all and move on. 

‘Ugh who made those suggestions? Sounds like something Sirius would do to be honest.’ Of course he wouldn’t be serious with it (James hoped), but coming up with the most ridiculous potential names was probably his favourite past time as of now. ‘So do you want to wait until his birth? Or you’d rather chose something simpler? Because that second idea is the reason why I am who I am.’ And he was going to continue with a tradition of naming their children names that were not overly the top. ‘Hey… If we were to have a girl instead of a boy, would we call her a name of  a flower?’ By the time he had stopped talking they had reached the upstairs. 

[far-from-wilted-blog]

As Lily reached the top of the steps with James in tow, an overwhelmingly calm, warm, easing sensation swept over her. Tickled her skin, smooth, soft and teasing, lapping against her nerves and causing a faint, pink blush on her cheek. She peered back and up at James as best she could, pearly whites chewing impishly against the bottom corner of her lip. As she was still carrying her wand, she flipped it twice and charmed their dropping curtains to block out the daylight creeping in around them. Trick their minds into thinking it was only evening, past twilight.

“What, like you don’t like Hephaestus? I’m really offended! Perhaps Sagittarius, keep the Divination teacher blubbering about bright futures. Set him up to get great grades already with a name like that.” She huffed, struggling to keep a straight face. “S’just Mum who loved floral names. She’d have begged our kid to be named Violet or even Peony or Rosie to keep a garden growing of her relatives.” She tilted her head, grinning nostalgically at that. Her parents would’ve been thrilled they were having a boy. It was a shame the Evanses would never meet her child, nor Petunia’s- she was expecting, so Lily had heard.

Once the redhead sat her wand down on the side table, then whirled to pull James towards the bed, smoothing back his wild dark hair as her eyes kept stuck on his for a second - unable to keep her lips from dancing into a grin. “What sorta names D’you want to add to our list, then? Tell me the simple, And if it’s fate something’ll stick. Or he’ll be like you lot and go by a nickname his mates give him.. like a bloody animal.”

She guided him past the moving portrait of them swaying together, laughing in silence as they both tried to reach for the camera lens. To the right, a collage of photographs needed to remind them of how much they had when so many struggled to maintain any sort of love. The four Marauders lined up at their wedding, in the very front of the guests portrait- wands sparkling like fireflies. Road trips, order outings, Muggle experience excursions. The time when Lily showed James her shit Muggle car back home, and when they got stuck in the mud on a winding, one-lane farm road, and she told James the best way to get the car out was to push the good ole manual Muggle way. She couldn’t allow this haven to be tarnished, no matter what would try and wreck what they had achieved against all odds.

Smooth, poised, Lily shot James a look and slid onto the bed, smoothing over the covers. “Fuck off any daytime meetings and c’mere. You wanted sleep..? Come try and get it.” She said haughtily with a smirk, shrugging off her robe and tossing it to the side, running one smooth leg over the other. Truth be told, she couldn’t rest soundly without him there anyway, the night before, although she’d scarcely admit it to him. Her hand reached out for his, fingers spreading til her thumb grazed over his knuckles, bringing them up to her lips and pressing them for a slow kiss.

[forever-toujourspur]

learning curves / narcissa & lily / april 12th 1980

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Malfoy, but we don’t offer private sessions as an option.”

It took a few moments for Narcissa to realize fully that her request had been turned down.  Somehow, the words “I’m sorry” and “we don’t offer” seemed foreign in a sentence spoken to her.  With nothing more than a cool glance, Narcissa flashed the receptionist a cordial smile.  “Surely, there is something you can do to accommodate my needs.  You understand the need for privacy, given the curiosity that my life seems to garner, of course.”  Her gaze turned steely behind the smile she offered.

The girl stuttered, intimidated by the force of Narcissa’s will, her eyes wide and her face pale.  ‘I-I’m sorry, Mrs. Malfoy, it’s simply… not available. The course was designed to foster a sense of community among expectant mothers, not to offend, by any means.  I can’t… do anything to change the rules, even for someone such as yourself.”  The girl was holding her ground admirably, Narcissa had to give her that.

When even contacting her manager failed, Narcissa reluctantly admitted defeat.  She needed the class; there was no way she would get through the remainder of her pregnancy without it.  She couldn’t wait until July creeped forward and only then begin to learn what would happen.  No.  As much as she hated to admit it, she needed this course, and as much as she hated to admit it, she would resort to taking it with common witches and wizards.

That was how she found herself in the corner of the open room, clearly used for fitness classes of some sort.  She’d been one of the first to enter the class, more than fifteen minutes before it started.  The littlest amount of extra attention she could garner the better.  She’d pulled her hair off to the side in a low ponytail, sure that it wouldn’t get in her way and began stretching as more people begna to filter into the room.

As the clock over the floor to ceiling mirror ticked on and more people began to set up, fewer and fewer spaces became available and her attempts to take up as much space as possible in her corner were successful.  She almost got away with keeping everyone else away, with avoiding whispers of what she was doing there until a shadow fell over her and Narcissa found herself looking up at Lily Evans.  The girl had been but a blip on her radar in school, in the Slug Club with her despite the years between them.  Slughorn liked to take them young, gain more influence with them to claim fame.  As much as she liked the man, Narcissa had always abhored his blind eye when it came to this.

“This space is taken,” she said quietly, hoping not to attract much attention from the other women. “I might suggest you find somewhere more suitable to set yourself.”  The words, though polite, were dripping with distaste.  Just the very feeling of directing her attention to a Mudblood felt likea waste of time, of energy that could have been valuably used elsewhere, just like the very magic that ran in her veins.

[far-from-wilted-blog]

As Lily’s belly expanded, and the Potter couple’s cabinet under the stairs kept filling with books she couldn’t stuff in between her haphazard bookshelves in any other room, the spritely witch decided it was necessary to take all of those book bound plans into action. Throughout most of her life, Lily was a practical dreamer. Nimble, tactical, passionate, the feline-eyed female grew a habit of diving wholeheartedly into anything that caught her intrigue. After all, what sort of Head Girl would be able to own that title in school, from being too timid to test her curiosities out-of-the-textbook?

Propping her arm under her growing gut, Lily arrived at the Magical Mothers Maternity course clad in one of James’ old Quidditch shirts and 70′s work-out shorts, her long mane braided and tumbling down to her waist. Adjusting to pregnant life was a challenge, sure, but as her future child continued to grow - and show - Mrs. Potter felt her fears subside, and joy replace it more often than not. Adjusting to other pregnant peers was on her to-do list. Once the Ministry stubbornly convinced her to take some more time to herself -- that such strenuous physical, mental, albeit dangerous activity was not advised in such a state -- Lily submitted to making the most out of a true situation. S

he stepped in a bit later than most of the fellow mothers-to-be, smiling bright enough so the shine reached her eyes and waving at a few somewhat familiar faces. Some from school, one from a holiday party, none too close and yet fascinating all the same. How odd it was, that their children were all likely to go to school in the same year. Who would be friends with her son? Who would be--

A blinding gleam of blonde met her as Lily reached the corner of the room. In truth, Lily barely knew what sort of sound would come out of Mrs. Malfoy’s lips. She didn’t care to associate with people who didn’t care to hold onto Sirius in her family. Who likely looked down the crescent of their perfectly ski sloped noses and struggled to breathe around her - lest they should become infected with whatever poison a Muggleborn would leak. No, no. Lily didn’t stand to be bothered by anyone people like Narcissa associated with in school, she most certainly wouldn’t make the time outside of Hogwarts’ walls. 

“Taken, hmm?” Lily drawled, lips curved upward all the same in a calm, nonchalant whisper of a grin, almost pleased with the venomous syrup dripping from Narcissa’s tongue. She disregarded Narcissa’s suggestion, plopping her floor mat loudly beside the poised stranger. She stretched, moving onto it, and sat down with a satisfied sigh. “Looks like they’ve closed the doors behind me, what a pity. I was hoping my view wouldn’t be of someone who looked so pained before she’d even gone into labour.” She winked with a cheeky grin, looking the woman over. “You’re already setting a great example for your child, Mrs. Malfoy, volunteering to be my partner for the afternoon.”

[peasysqueezy]

[far-from-wilted-blog]

Lily Evans Potter

[notlibatiusborage]

far-from-wilted:

“I see…” Lily nodded slowly, brushing some bright red waves away from her face and tucking it behind her ear. Vertigo began to tease her as she felt his eyes roam over her form and settled on her new addition. Her hand instinctively moved over her dress, the fabric pulling tight around her protruding middle. Lips parted as if to say something, but what could she even begin to tell him? How far they had fallen from each other since their days of muddy knees, cloud spotting, giggling together in empty fields. Their different paths were evident, and even within the amount of time Lily had not seen Severus, he was still steadily evolving into a new creature from her Sev.

But there remained so many stark reminders of him. Even the way he fidgeted with his shirt, his long and nimble fingertips grazing ever so slightly over himself. Lily forgot time and place. Her younger voice, brighter, then - full of laughter, echoed from ear to ear. She heard an afterthought of his laugh too, before his thick accent was replaced by something far smoother, his chuckles steadily fleeting in the distance. Snap out of it, Lily.

Congratulations.

“Hmm?” Button nose scrunched up, doe eyes blinked and she forced an over animated “Oh, right-” then looked down at her growing bump. “It, um…. It’s unique timing, really. But fate has a funny way of popping into the picture every now and then.” She knew his congratulatory comment was bland, causing her stomach to churn with annoyance and her stubborn disposition. Eyes flashed up at him as she took a step closer, crossing her arms.

“Wouldn’t have expected you to be happy for me, y’know. You don’t have to say things you don’t mean.” She muttered before she could help herself.

“Unique…” He said the word slowly, as though savouring it, and not enjoying the taste, his lip curling a little in a reflexive sneer at the feeling in his chest.“I don’t -” He cut himslef off from letting her know that he didn’t understand how she could do this, could build a life with someone like Potter. Maybe it was the money, but Lily had never been obsessed with the stuff before.  “I’m happy for you. Or at least, you’re happy so..I’m not upset.” He was though and it showed on every line of his young face.

He didin’t like the way it made her seem so different. So unlike the Lily he had known before. The Lily who had liked him. 

“I’m going to apply for a job at Hogwarts. I got my Mastery.” He knew what he was doing. The back of his head was saying, show her how far you’ve come from the scrawny victim. Show her you’re somebody. Make her see how you’ve changed from that awful boy. “I’ve got an interview tomorrow.”

He looked down at her stomach again, that same sullen expression on his face. “when is it…” He gestured vaguely as though he didn’t know whether to say, due, completed, or over.

[far-from-wilted-blog]

Lily’s light eyes danced over his, retaining the same natural, feverish abundance of a gaze she’d always maintained – especially with him. Plush lips parted as she chewed on her cheek, watching the paradox between his appearance and his words. Severus was usually a man of his words, that she knew well. Although she’d never daydreamed of the day they’d wither away into adulthood, Lily struggled to expect a moment when Severus waned from her completely - diminishing her into a person he had no time for, no interest for, no affection. Disgust when she felt pride. Self-consciously, now, her pale hand moved over her midriff and stroked it, as if to reassure her unborn child, ‘This stranger was once my everything.’

Red brows raised ever so slightly at his own accomplishments, conscience temporarily ignoring itself as she felt the odd sensation of pride for Severus. For as long as she could recall, he was an avid, stubborn pursuant. “You didn’t-” she snapped, failing to remember herself as she took a step closer to him, grin growing exponentially and accelerating at a speed she couldn’t halt. “That’s - that’s wonderful news! What position is it? What’re the interview questions - do you have enough  ingredients? Do I have to call you Professor-” she stopped herself, mind unable to keep steady with her running tongue. Of course, they weren’t friends. Obviously, they no longer fit like the puzzle pieces she’d gathered in their second year - after six rounds of Wizard’s Chess.

She forced her focus elsewhere, which worked, temporarily. The buzz of a few rambunctious lads, itching to get their hands on the latest broom. Elderly women buzzing about a pet shop storefront window. How could he be so distracting, amongst all the springtime chaos? She shifted from foot to foot, gingerly buttoning her sweater as she interrupted him, fighting back an overwhelmed blush. “Due? July, I think.” Her grin grew, finally meeting his eye with newfound confidence. “Late July or early August. I’m not nearly ready, not with Tuney having a baby so soon, but… Can you imagine another me in the world? Or someone so similar, perhaps? I want to blink and have /it/ be here…” She cleared her throat. “Of course I would’ve told you sooner. We, uh.. We haven’t had the chance to run into each other.”

[notlibatiusborage]

Severus couldn’t bring himself to properly focus on the bump any longer it was making him feel unwell. Not physically nauseous but a kind of mental discomfort that he was ill equipped to deal with out of the blue. He tried occluding away the sensation, but it was hard when he looked at her. when she was interested, in him, like nothing had ever cleaved them from each other. “I applied for the Defence Against Dark Arts job-” He wondered if that would still be a sore subject to bring up, after all, they had started to drift when her friends had taken issue with his interest in other forms of magic. “I don’t really know how the interview will go, but, that is probably how Headmaster Dumbledore intends it. I don’t exepct a practical component but I’m sure I can handle one. “You’d be safer with me to look out for you. Potter can’t defend you. You don’t even fully understand the schale of- He took another breath, hand twitching to rearrange the fron tof his robes this time.

“So soon? That doesn’t seem wholly wise.” It would be better to delay. To not have it at all.He felt uneasy talking about the…thing inside her, and he didn’t really know why. It felt like more that just jealousy or disappointment. But he couldn’t think of any impending attacks or raids planned, so he let the feelings sink down under the waves of his mind. 

“I don’t think Potter would approve. But thank you for the thought.” He didn’t believe her and he didn’t try to hide that fact. But he appreciated her attempts to not hurt him further, especially since ultimately their schism was not her fault. He took a step back, feeling that only putting distance between them could stop him wanting to grab hold of her and side along apparate her somewhere away from the war and Potter or demanding answers from her. Under the smooth mask of his face hec ould feel the weakneses in his occlumency , felll memories and emotons clawing at the surface, struggling for the air above the waves.. “ This has been…good. I’m sure you -” Didn’t want to see me ever again.  “Are busy. ” He swallowed. but couldn’t bring himself to move any further than this. He was stuck, not as close as a friend, but not as far as a stranger. and it felt terrible. “I won’t keep you any longer.”

[far-from-wilted-blog]

The moment Severus mentioned his intended position, Lily’s famously light, pixie expression paled and drooped. Eyes cooled. How ironic that Severus would be teaching to fend against the magic he grew so fascinated with in school. In the end, it was in fact his curiosity with such evil things that tore them apart more than that horribly discriminatory mudblood word he called her ever could. Even Lily’s many friends who talked so horribly against him for those latter years in school certainly reiterated the fact that Lily should never associate with someone who’d made the choices he did. If he valued their friendship at all, he would’ve seen her influence was for his own good. “Ah, I see... Surely you’d better ensure students steered clear of taking too much interest in the Dark Arts - but instead defending against it. All depends on your curriculum, though, right..? You know children, capable of being swept up into stupid, dangerous things and thinking it’s important for them to do so.” She said more stiffly, taking a singular, gingerly step onto the cobblestone behind her as her eyes tried to pry their gaze away from the very much broader, even somehow taller man before her’s form, moving up to his eyes and his hair. 

So soon? That doesn’t seem wholly wise.

Lily scoffed at that remark, gently curved brows bouncing erratically. “Can’t help nature, can I? Suggest I keep the little’un as a lodger in my belly ‘til the war’s over, hmm? It’ll come out fully grown, and it’d be the death of me.” Despite the awkwardness of time apart, Lily always had her knack of slightly dark humour a twinkle in her eye. 

As he took a step back, she mirrored him almost instinctively. Like a glass wall had jutted between them, smack dab in the middle of the Village center, and she had to think of his voice muffled again, and she had to remember the aspects she didn’t miss about him. That was the hard, bitter truth of reality. Seeing someone she loved so much slip away, out of her life, as she put him into a far-off compartment she couldn’t keep opening. She isn’t supposed to miss him. She’s supposed to remember the worst. And she did, indeed, remember the worst.

“Not nearly as busy as I’d like to be, Sev- never destined to be a lady of leisure-” Lily muttered, patting her stomach again as she stretched her back. “But perhaps I’ll see you again one day, Potential Professor.” She nodded, adjusting her bag. “Who knows where we’ll be in a decade or so? You could be stuck with my parent/ teacher meeting.”  She huffed, flustered again as she turned one shoulder away from him, ready to strut off somewhere without looking as affected, but she was sure he’d known her long enough to read her better.

[on-borrxwed-time]

Of Nursery Rhymes and Jumping to Conclusions || Lily & James || April 1st, 1980

[on-borrxwed-time]

far-from-wilted:

There were some things Lily liked to keep separate when it came to her Muggle and Magical lives. Although she was a strong advocate of supporting and mixing the two - especially under the growing scrutiny and hostility on such a combination that bubbled from the times - she often sought to abandon magical abilities to keep herself grounded. Surprised. Humbled. 

This decision stemmed since her father’s birthday one summer, when her mother lit the candles using matches. No spells, no shortcuts, just a bit more work than a charm, situational luck, and cause and effect. When Lily discovered she was pregnant- despite using even wizarding world contraceptives to not be pregnant at a time such as this- it took her a while to remind herself that this wasn’t some form of magic. It had to be, right? If she could travel back in time and tell her fifteen-year-old self that she would be having James Potter’s offspring…. 

But here they were, the new Potter family, and in this very hall James would hold her and they’d almost cry, or shout, or laugh, or anything in-between, and the only magic Lily could really believe in, without a doubt, was the feelings James sparked within her, and promise of passing that love onto someone they both created. And as she was steadily shifting into the later stage of her pregnancy, she kept reminding herself that whoever their little one was - be it a boy, a girl, purple, gold- she’d give it more love than she’d ever imagined possible.

Which is why she was so adamant about not knowing. Something the redhead wouldn’t allow magic to even tell her. She kept her focus on James’s lips as they flailed, talking quickly, his words maintaining that fire she had grown to loathe and adore at the same time. “It’s never certain?” She repeated him,  “Ja- we went to Saint Mungo’s, not some fortune teller in the back of a corner off shop.” She said quickly, despite herself with a laugh, gawking at him as he unleashed their little mystery. 

She gawked at  her husband, jaw dropped, her slender fingers caressing between James’ in shock as he laced his hand over hers. A boy, a boy, a boy, a sweet, perfect little boy, all their own, someone who would likely look just like James- at least she hoped. She blinked away a few tears, a sputter coming from the back of her throat. “A boy..” She repeated softly, much more an sappy and sometimes unexpected emotional wreck with these damned pregnancy hormones, “You seriously can’t keep a secret from me, can you?” She shook her head, running her spare hand over her face, “But a - damnit I’m mad at you for telling me- just over three-ish more months or so but you’re too impatient to wait as is the James bloody Potter way-” she swatted his side, then pulled him in by his collar and kissed him hard, “You can’t keep a bloody secret, and now I know, and we’re having a SON! A son!” she rambled,pushing him up against the wall, kissing him again, brows drawn together, “And all I want to do is meet him- and he’s going to have your laugh- and you two’ll prank me til I’m in the dirt-” she moved her hand up to his cheek, ecstatic and surprised and fired up at him all at once. 

Such a whirlwind of emotions was exhausting, but he welcomed all the changes with a happy grin nonetheless. Lily was, as one could say, a high maintenance at times, but he himself required just as much work. It was never boring when it came down to them, never predictable or repeatable. Every day was a new adventure swiping them up into the unknown. 

But if there was one thing that was constant and unchanging then it was how much they meant to each other and how set on making the best out of life they were. So seeing Lily happily learning about their baby’s gender, all proud and excited to meet the kid anew, had made James’ heart swell in pride. This was his little world. This was it their little world. 

Lily’s happiness didn’t change the fact that he had screwed up. He had promised not to reveal the gender, but keeping it a secret apparently was too much for him to handle. He was disappointed in himself, because he really thought he could do this. He was fine with keeping appearances when it came to the Order’s business. As far as he could tell he had never spilled any beans to any third party people. Still, his thoughts were much less negative when Lily’s lips were all over his own. 

‘Even the healers can be wrong, love. I mean… there were supposed to be close to no chances of us conceiving, right?’ But he was happy that the healer who told Lily all she needed to know about wizarding contraception was wrong. Because there was nothing more exciting for James than having a baby on it’s way. ‘I didn’t mean to tell you, though. It slipped.’ He tried to explain himself, even though it was more than obvious she wasn’t really, truly mad. 

‘But think about it, baby, now we can start planning everything for real.’ His thumbs wiped away those few lonely tears that had escaped Lily’s green orbs. Her pushing him against the wall had knocked the air out of his lungs, such was the power of a pregnant lady, but he paid it little mind. Chuckling at her behaviour he wrapped his hands around her waist, trying to keep her more or less in place. ‘You didn’t think we wouldn’t prank you if our baby was a girl, did you?’ He furrowed his brows in a mock disapproval, but it was quickly gone, because he leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers. ‘I’ll have you know that girls can be much sneakier than boys. I personally can recall several unexplained happenings that could be traced to a certain redheaded pixie.’ He added with a lough, remembering some of the finest pranks that Lily herself had pulled on him. Dating her was not always all honey and milk. ‘We should start thinking about the names, now. We seriously only have a few more months.’

[far-from-wilted-blog]

“I’m going to be stuck with two of you. Tuney’s attempt at cursing my future ended up being right.” Lily teased smoothly as the corners of her lips ever so slightly raised into a gentle, sweet smile, words soft and quiet within the confines of their entryway as she slowly rocked with him in the dim morning light. “Now, now- don’t need to make another excuse, love. We’ll laugh about this one day when we’re grey haired, I’m not gonna be cross with you til then.” She pressed her forehead against his, fingertips drifting over the tired material of his shirt, his aching and sleepy limbs. He must’ve been beat, after all, the young Order member’d barely had any hours of sleep throughout the entirety of the night. To be fair, Lily had a hard time sleeping soundly lately whenever James was away. Nightmares crept in through the brick walls, and as independent as Lily believed herself to be, she was quickly evolving into a family woman. A woman who needed to make sure everyone she loved was safe, secure, comfortable, at peace. Struggling to get through the days and nights, with hollowed out eyes and escalating tensions, threatened the little shot at normalcy the newlyweds sought to keep for themselves. 

This moment, caught up with the boy who used to make her blood boil, made everything worth it. Every fear, every pain, every single risk. Sure, they could run away from the conflict, the two of them - now three. Try and forget everything horrible had ever happened. But the thing she loved about James, one of many aspects, was his incessant need to ruthlessly fight for those he cared for. She’d be damned if she wasn’t going to face their lives head-on. They weren’t the type to cower. 

Here, swept up in his arms, Lily Potter finally found it easier to block the demons in her head and temporarily replace them radiating love. 

Lily flipped her river of bright red hair to cascade down the small of her back, Her plush lips left traces of lingering kisses over his jaw, down the sensitive veins of his neck and lightly nipping on his collar, toying with him, finding amusement and awe as her hands wandered over his sides. She let out a loud jingle of a laugh, instant flashbacks of the pranks she’d become accustomed to subjecting James to. “Jinxing the armour suits to chase you through Hogwarts grounds on Head Boy duty, replacing your drinks with Bertie Botts Every Flavour Bogie Bean melted down..” She purred, hand curling into his curls, pushing them away from his face. “Pretending I broke your broom just to give ya a new model. That was a bit far. I’ve only learned to trick you just by observing your years of shite! D’you have a favourite you’ve ever pulled?” She steered him away from the doorway, walking backwards as she began to pull him, inch after inch, up the stairs. 

When he mentioned baby names, her eyes lit up again. “Names, names, names. I’ve heard every suggestion- from traditional magical recommendations like Merlin - Merlin, for Godric’s sake-” She made a face, “To Promethius - Agamemnon- yikes.” She laughed, “What do you think? Hard to name a baby without properly meeting him! He could look like someone entirely different.”  

[far-from-wilted-blog]

From James: I’m buying ten.

Right, that’s at least six out of seven days of each week sorted… ^^ can we get a few other subjects in there as well, James? Familiarising our baby with roots and plants can be as interesting and compelling, even dare I say riveting - as Quidditch… 

-smirks-

[atwistedoldfriend]

Let’s Spend the Night Together ||Lily & Old Friend

[atwistedoldfriend]

far-from-wilted:

When the seconds seemed to crawl by, the moment her unwelcome visitor said he’d be staying hours, Lily shook her head and squeezed her bright eyes shut, willing him to disappear out of her life. “Get out… Get out- Get out- get out-” She growled in vain through clenched teeth, veins on her wrists bulging as her arm’s cuts continued to ooze. Her left leg jolted. kicking hard against the rope hoping to set the charm loose to no avail. She glared at him, heart rate speeding to full throttle now as he picked up her baby’s toy. “Don’t you DARE speak of my child-” She snapped, voice escalating in desperation and anger as she hissed at him, “Don’t you even mention my baby, you fucking coward- I’m the one you’re lured to-” Her knee kicked at the stuffed animal’s body as he flung it to her, ricocheting the toy back at him in a snap. The little toy squeaked pathetically once it hit him and rested on the wood floor. She dared herself to stare him in those beautiful, chilling eyes as long as she could, jutting her jaw out towards him and lifting her chin stubbornly. 

She didn’t have time to react, further, her mind too distracted by him even mentioning her unborn child until the powerful curse hit her. She’d never experienced such pain before, body tensing and writhing to her right side, hunching over as much as her restraints could permit as she let out a guttural cry. All of her nerves were on overload, eyes rolling madly as the excruciating pain zapped from her shoulder, to her neck, to her fingers, and lingering there like a burn. She tried her hardest not to scream out, but after a few seconds as her head grew red and she felt like exploding, she let out a louder moan. Lily couldn’t think- the only thought on her mind stuck on repeat was praying the baby didn’t know what was happening, and that it wouldn’t be hurt. Her body was weaker, now, her will caving, but she persisted as she bucked and turned stiff as a board.

The second Evan released this punishment, Lily nearly collapsed into herself. Her body was beaded with glistening sweat, red tendrils clinging to her exposed skin as she struggled for a breath, hands and feet swollen as her weight and gravity fought against the restraints. It took her a moment to see, to get the stamina to speak to him. She watched him with heavy eyes, lips parted as her tongue slithered over her bottom dry lip gaping at him, chest heaving up and down. “Think you’re an artist or something, hmm? You look like you’re loving this masterpiece… Admiring your ‘handiwork’? ” Her voice was more hoarse, lower, slower, as she tried to will her knees to lock and she stood back up fully. “Let me free so you can properly appreciate your art. That’s what you wanted, right? The house is big, my- my husband’s gone–” She implored him, daring not to look around the room to remember what she could try and use to her advantage. She knew she didn’t have a chance in hell, but she looked at him and tilted her head slowly, mind racing at her resources. He’d taken her wand from the side table, these magical chords couldn’t be released. “Hunters don’t wait ‘til their prey’s in a cage, now do they?” 

Another smile flickered along his lips as she struggled to sass him. She didn’t give any more ground than she could manage. She was right of course. He was admiring his handiwork. Lily was a witch worth being wary of. She was smart, possibly smarter than he was (though he reserved some doubt on that point because he knew his own intelligence), and she was strong. Even pregnant, she continued to struggle, not just against him, but against the physics of her situation. Her body was a far cry from helpful and he knew it.

“Hunters don’t wait ‘til their prey’s in a cage, now do they?”

He chuckled softly. “Such a romantic. I’m no hunter. I’m a predator.” He corrected softly, the French accented charm drawing out the syllables. “If I were after the hunt, I would have taken you on the street, maybe followed you after your morning snack at the corner café.” He shook his head and added, “But I’m not, which means I go for the smart victim, Mrs. Potter. Predators look for the weak member of the herd. They wait until the prey is separated—alone. Most important, a predator recognizes that there are other predators out there.”

He flicked his wand, a soft spell tumbling from his lips, and cuts opened along her calves as he intentionally weakened her legs. It would force more weight onto her wrists and shoulders, which would be more painful. Evan had been studying the human body very intently after all. He had learned how to couple the power of his spells with the weaknesses of the body itself to maximize his victim’s pain. Since he would not be killing Lily Potter, he wanted to be sure she remembered her agony. He wanted it to haunt her.

What she had yet to figure out, was that his choice in victim had more to do with impact than just her. Oh he thoroughly enjoyed tormenting her. He’d have to be sure to follow their evening with some friendly letters in the mail, just to keep the experience fresh—and not just for her. Her ridiculous husband would also be haunted by his actions. The fact that he’d failed to protect his precious little wife once again. Evan claimed as much power from the act of torture itself as he did from the fallout that ensued after such a session.

He watched her continue to resist, noting how weak her resistance was growing and was almost disappointed. Her body wasn’t as strong this time around thanks to the baby. In that moment he was more inclined to view the fetus as a parasite, stealing its mothers strength and vitality. Unfortunately, he couldn’t ignore the fact that it was a child, and born or not, he drew the line at children. So rather than going for the obvious weakness, he chose to chisel away at the red-headed witch from the extremities. He aimed his wand at her upper shoulder (the other side this time) and uttered the cruciatus curse once again…

[far-from-wilted-blog]

Lily was shaking, head spinning, his haunting voice only found deep within the confines of her memory now blaring at her - feeling more like an electric shock with every syllable he spoke. Glistening eyes blurred as he cut at her knees, and squeezed shut as she let out a frantic cry for help, a scream, a grinding teeth growl of rage and pain. “Cowardly prick- let me out of this bond now and we’ll see how weak I a--” Her words were running, rushing, escalating pitch and frantic severity as her bloody wrists slipped against the enchanted bindings. If her knees gave way completely, her hands would swell and numb, and she was worried she wouldn’t be able to push herself back up from such a state. 

Where was her wand? Surely she could try to writhe free. Wandless magic was incredibly difficult, especially with too much discipline and control to muster during a time such as this. As she’d read - wandless magic is like riding a bike with no hands. During an earthquake. Mumbling a spell to herself, she closed her throbbing green eyes and just as she lashed against the bindings, Lily experienced a pain like no other. Her whole shoulder radiated the worst pain imaginable. Burning, stinging, electric, cutting, slicing, sharp and dull sensations all at once. She let out a stifled moan, barely able to even breathe from the pain, lips parted in silence as she could barely look over to him. His attack points were inching in, a finely manicured pattern in his masterpiece display. Of course, she didn’t know what he could do to her unborn baby, she never knew the mysterious Old Friend’s limitations. Their sick and twisted game of cat and mouse now left her with less might and finesse. No longer as nimble, Lily would keep fighting until it meant the baby wouldn’t be harmed. Wouldn’t even be able to hear its mother’s agony. But the fear of it all, the utter helplessness of remaining stuck against the comfort of her bedsheets, was overwhelming. 

Her body contorted like a dancer’s, Lily’s knees gave way as the searing pain of her shoulder intensified. Just behind the masked figure, she saw a moving picture on the wall smile back at her. Laugh, even. Slow motion, dancing James and Lily, flirting with each other as James hammed it up for the photographer. “James!” Her vocal chords broke from shrieking too loud, in vain pleading for him to come home by some odd miracle.  Just as she heard herself beg for her husband to return home to her, she tried to find any comfort she’d know he’d give her. Courage. Stay up. Keep fighting. Lure him in, get him while you can. She gnashed her teeth together and leaned forward, towards her masked stalker. Her speech slurred from the pain, her words wouldn’t come out right, but she glared at him all the same, hissing and panting as her shoulder writhed, chest bucking, “Let me- let me go- you aren’t allowing your glorious moment to live up to its full potential-” A mixture of trembling, yelping, huffing, she managed to speak. Her shoulder had drooped tremendously, arm giving way at any feeling as she slithered towards him as best she could, peeking down at her belly a moment. “I’m familiar with your gifts, but I haven’t-” she struggled to breathe,  but pursed her lips and forced out a sharp huff against the cool mask, adrenaline kicking in despite the tears welling in her eyes, “I want- to give you a gift...”

[pixiebootsana]

Harry: No need to call me ‘sir’, Professor

Meanwhile in the afterlife: 

James:

Sirius:

Lily:

And when Remus heard about it:

[runningquill-art]

Life

“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…”

[blvnk-art]

“Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you’ve just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can – I’m surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK.” Lily Evans, HP5

James after a Quidditch match. 

[instagram @potterbyblvnk]

[far-from-wilted-blog]

@on-borrxwed-time

[on-borrxwed-time]

Of Nursery Rhymes and Jumping to Conclusions || Lily & James || April 1st, 1980

[on-borrxwed-time]

far-from-wilted:

James was a dance. Lily found herself constantly swept up in a give, a take, a collision or a slow synchronisation when they moved against each other. Over time, the couple’s dances shifted more fluid – more erratic and unexpected, depending on their circumstance. Away from the sheltered veil of Hogwarts and all that they thought was stressful, vbefore reality hit them square in the jaw once adulthood met them. Lily grew to crave this evolving interaction with James - one of the only people who could ever stir up some quick reactions aroused deep within her very core.  

James would pull, Lily’d push. Some days their roles would switch. In school amongst the flurry of students and butting heads over a project and hormones and Gryffindor common room parties and long Head Boy and Girl shifts, she was able twirl just out of his reach or snap a quip and they would succumb to each other’s stubborn advances and avoidances until all the pent up aggression spilled over. For the young witch who felt so sharp and serious when it came to her studies, her personal goals, her morals and her facts and figures, James Potter never let her forget to feel young. He was the perfect target for a prank, or a spontaneous adventure, or an abrupt conversation that didn’t tiptoe. Not afraid to fight with her, which escalated lately with the bubbling conflicts of the outside world infiltrating their home. Turning them both into a fiery display of attitude that fought for dominance, at times, then came together in an eruption.

Lily still felt like quite like an inexperienced child giving birth to a child. She was nineteen when she fell pregnant, eighteen when she exchanged vows, and the summers went by quicker and before she knew it she was still running as though a candle’s flame would burn out in the prime of her youth with two very concrete facts held close to her: She was a wife to a stubborn, brilliant person who wasn’t afraid to place himself in danger. She was going to be a mother. And this flurry of excitement, fear, and curiosity of the unknown future was getting to her. Shook her into changing her priorities, fearing things she used to embrace. 

These thoughts remained ever present as she leaned into him, biting on the corner of her bottom lip whilst James spoke quietly to her, then to the growing little human in her stomach. She smiled so cheekily, her dimples creased as she glided a hand to his lower back, stroking it and laughing in spite of herself out of her nose. “I found your stash of cauldron cakes and liquorice wands – should’a brought those with you to keep you awake.” She sighed, trying to stop being angry or frustrated, her voice still had a small growl to it though she smirked. 

He?

The smirk popped away, like a light switching off. Abrupt. Then, a dawning. Big eyes snapped to James suspiciously, “What do you mean? D’you.. d’you mean it’s a…?” She could barely talk. Surely, James didn’t know? Lily didn’t know the baby’s sex, she was determined not to. But her heart was racing and she felt high and strange and her hand moved over her belly, like this was a new introduction with the babe. Her lips still stuttered. “What did you just say, then?”

James was usually a pretty suave bloke. He could talk his way out of many punishments during school and knew just what to say to make sure people liked him despite his misbehaviour. But when it came to Lily, his foot tended to pay visits to his mouth more often than to rest on the ground. It was a miracle really that they had ended together, since their fights usually tended to resemble a storm or an earthquake rather than your regular married couple squabble. Though, considering how much they both loved each other and how passionate they were in other fields of life he supposed it wasn’t all that surprising. 

What also wasn’t surprising at all, was that whenever it was James who instigated the fight the reason for it was his total lack of thinking. No, he wasn’t insensitive or brash, but he was too quick to simply let the words roll out of his tongue without filtering them in his brain. 

In retrospect, they both should have known that having him check the gender was a bad idea. Lily wanted a surprise, she wanted to wait a bit longer before learning the sex of their child, but he couldn’t help his curiosity, he didn’t want to wait anymore, because this was their kid and he had so much planning to do, so many dreams to create. He needed to know whether it was a boy or a girl, because while he was certain that any child of his would become a pro quidditch player, some things would be different. He needed to prepare for being the loving father of a girl, who’s heart one day would be stolen by some ungrateful brat, a father who needed to protect his precious daughter and learn how to braid her hair, tie bows of her frilly dress and one day be able to tell nail polish colours apart. And if it was a boy, he would need to start educating himself on how to play this muggle football thing, that he had seen fathers and sons play on the telly and start preparing long, motivational speeches about how to be a gentleman (for he surely needed to teach his kid that behaving the way his dad did when in school was a no-no). Or so he had said to Lily after she had caught him sneaking a glance into the file that the healer had left them. Because he truly couldn’t imagine loving a daughter more than a son or the other way around and he was going to be the best dad any child had ever had… but he was a curious bloke. And they do say that it was the curiosity that had killed the cat. And even though he hadn’t been able to learn what their child was back then, he had checked it again… And he knew it was a boy…

Lily wasn’t supposed to learn that way. He had promised that he was not going to spill the beans to her and that he was respecting her wishes. And he had failed big time. Surely, they weren’t going to argue about him ruining the surprise, because it was their child they were talking about!

‘Lils… It doesn’t matter what I’ve said. It’s never certain until the baby is born.’ Though when it came to the magical check ups, they were certainly more accurate than the Muggle ones. He could deny knowing anything, but that would come too close to lying for his taste and that was one thing he was adamant about keeping away from their relationship. A good husband never lied to his wife and he wasn’t going to start doing that now. 

He could see that Lily was distressed and he couldn’t blame her for it. He had dropped quite a bomb on her and he had done it so suddenly, curse his stupid mouth. Putting his hands on her shoulders he tried to stay calm and explain himself as best as he could. With his thumbs moving in circles over he skin, he continued:

‘I’m sorry… I know you wanted to wait longer before finding out, but the cat’s out of the bag, now.’ Once again in that short span of time he has moved his hand to rest on hers. ‘We’re having a boy. Our son, Lily.’

[far-from-wilted-blog]

There were some things Lily liked to keep separate when it came to her Muggle and Magical lives. Although she was a strong advocate of supporting and mixing the two - especially under the growing scrutiny and hostility on such a combination that bubbled from the times - she often sought to abandon magical abilities to keep herself grounded. Surprised. Humbled. 

This decision stemmed since her father’s birthday one summer, when her mother lit the candles using matches. No spells, no shortcuts, just a bit more work than a charm, situational luck, and cause and effect. When Lily discovered she was pregnant- despite using even wizarding world contraceptives to not be pregnant at a time such as this- it took her a while to remind herself that this wasn’t some form of magic. It had to be, right? If she could travel back in time and tell her fifteen-year-old self that she would be having James Potter’s offspring.... 

But here they were, the new Potter family, and in this very hall James would hold her and they’d almost cry, or shout, or laugh, or anything in-between, and the only magic Lily could really believe in, without a doubt, was the feelings James sparked within her, and promise of passing that love onto someone they both created. And as she was steadily shifting into the later stage of her pregnancy, she kept reminding herself that whoever their little one was - be it a boy, a girl, purple, gold- she’d give it more love than she’d ever imagined possible.

Which is why she was so adamant about not knowing. Something the redhead wouldn’t allow magic to even tell her. She kept her focus on James’s lips as they flailed, talking quickly, his words maintaining that fire she had grown to loathe and adore at the same time. “It’s never certain?” She repeated him,  “Ja- we went to Saint Mungo’s, not some fortune teller in the back of a corner off shop.” She said quickly, despite herself with a laugh, gawking at him as he unleashed their little mystery. 

She gawked at  her husband, jaw dropped, her slender fingers caressing between James’ in shock as he laced his hand over hers. A boy, a boy, a boy, a sweet, perfect little boy, all their own, someone who would likely look just like James- at least she hoped. She blinked away a few tears, a sputter coming from the back of her throat. “A boy..” She repeated softly, much more an sappy and sometimes unexpected emotional wreck with these damned pregnancy hormones, “You seriously can’t keep a secret from me, can you?” She shook her head, running her spare hand over her face, “But a - damnit I’m mad at you for telling me- just over three-ish more months or so but you’re too impatient to wait as is the James bloody Potter way-” she swatted his side, then pulled him in by his collar and kissed him hard, “You can’t keep a bloody secret, and now I know, and we’re having a SON! A son!” she rambled,pushing him up against the wall, kissing him again, brows drawn together, “And all I want to do is meet him- and he’s going to have your laugh- and you two’ll prank me til I’m in the dirt-” she moved her hand up to his cheek, ecstatic and surprised and fired up at him all at once. 

[far-from-wilted-blog]

Run To You | Marlene & Lily | March 26, 1980

[cherrybomb-witch]

[far-from-wilted:]

Marlene tread carefully as she took off her shoes, balancing the basket of goodies on her hip. She knew to step smoothly, speak calmly, every action a necessity when dealing with her best friend under these pressing moments of stress. When she saw Marlene, Lily’s smile grew wide, and she saw her for a moment as she did for their first year at school. 

Looking smaller, then, needing her but never asking for it. 

Now, Marlene McKinnon was many things to Lily. Despite being one of the strongest witches, Lily saw her as a human. Strong, a powerhouse, feisty. But eventually mortal, needing tender things, like a hug and a bit of reassurance to keep her chin up. She sat down on the couch beside the blonde, resting her temple on her fist just for a moment and eyeing her. “Course, you didn’t expect me to show up yet, but I love doing the unexpected.” She winked, then pushed her basket of treats towards her. “Hastily wrapped but I figured, knowing you, it’d be out of the packaging anyway soon. Your emergency miracle kit. Better than magic, these things, I swear.” She let out a small laugh, eyeing the beauty as the flickering light of the television screen sprawled out on her delicate features. She took out the manatee cuddly toy out, first, and brought it up to Marlene. “Yes, it’s cheesy as hell, and yes, I’ve saved the naming ceremony for this little guy until I got here.”

Before she could help herself, Lily moved her arms around Marls, “I’m not going anywhere.” She mumbled, bringing Marlene’s head down to her shoulder and rubbing her back. “I only wish I could’ve been with you, when it happened. Not cooped up, given my state.” She huffed. “I would’ve been there in a heartbeat at your side, love.” She whispered, frowning when Marlene couldn’t see her expression and squeezing her eyes shut to snap herself out of being a blubbering mess. No, she needed to be strong. She petted Marlene’s hair in gentle strokes, the kind her own mother used to give her whenever she needed to curl up against someone. The kind that could lull someone to rest their eyes, and forget the world for even a moment. 

Finally cracking a full-curve grin, Marlene grabbed the basket with little greedy hands and started taking out its contents. The first thing to emerge was a grey, soft and cuddly stuffed manatee. The blonde witch’s eyes seemingly grew in size as she reached out to take the stuffed animal in her hands and immediately squishing it to her chest, burying her face in it. She could not help the child-like squeal that came from her laughing lips.

“I can’t believe you got me a manatee stuffed toy, Lils! Where did you even find one!? Oh my God, it’s so fluffy” it was not that much of a secret that Marlene loved stuffed animals. She was a natural hugger in her sleep, so it was always nice to have something to cuddle with. She already had, of course, her stuffed blue bear Bleu since she was three, but it would be nice to add a new member to the family. She looked at Lily with big, grateful eyes “Of course, the naming ceremony is important” she studied the stuffed animal’s bead eyes for a moment, taking a comic solemnity in the picking, before finally nodding to herself “Yep, I got it. Nenetl. It’s Aztecan for ‘doll’. When I swam with manatees in Mexico, one of them was called Nenetl and she was the sweetest. It kind of looks like her”.

The other things inside the basket were not any less satisfactory. Marlene took the different chocolate treats while running her tongue over her lips, and it was not even a cartoon show. She literally did it because of how tasty those brownies looked. Finally, at the bottom of the bag she found a copy of The Fellowship of the Ring.

“Oh my God, Lils! I actually don’t have this one yet!” she gave her friend a knowing smirk “Somebody’s been doing her homework!”

Some people collected stamps, some collected artwork, some collected buttons. Marlene collected different copies of The Lord of the Rings. Many thought her collection was crazy even by collecting standards. Why collect the same book over and over again? She simply likes having different editions: hard-cover, soft-cover, different cover designs, with annexes, with pictures, pocket editions; whenever she found a version she did not yet own, she bought it. At the head of her collection was, of course, her own actual copies, which she had inherited from her grandfather and —Merlin knew how the old man had managed to get them— were autographed by Tolkien himself. It was always exciting to come across a new copy, of course. Now, she did not know whether if it was a matter of chance that she did not have that one, or if Lily actually knew her collection by hard. Either way, the fact that she had actually taken the time to look for a copy and get it for her meant the world.

And considering the emotional vulnerability the blonde was currently going for, she felt like she might actually cry over the fact that someone would know how to treat her greyness so well. Unlike her family, or James, Lily had not known Marlene for her whole life, and yet she’d managed to become one of the very few people the Hit witch had confided about her depression with, and even more, knew how to treat sometimes even better than others who had known about it since the beginning. So when the redhead wrapped her into one of her life-saving hugs, the blonde immediately relaxed her defences and gave in to her best friend’s comfort.

“I know you would’ve, Lils” she replied, curling under her redheaded friend’s arm and resting her head on her lap like a child. She had suddenly become smaller, in a way. Her voice had lost the previous sparkle, evidence of how the conversation has shifted to more grave waters “But I’m glad you weren’t. Couldn’t have bared the thought of the little Peanut getting hurt because of me. It’s such a horrible place, Lily. It reeks misery like if it was something palpable in the air”. There was so much more she could have said about the horrors of Azkaban, but she kept those details locked inside her chest. It upset her just to think about talking about it, and she did not want to pass that greyness than inhabited her on to Lily and the baby Potter.

[far-from-wilted-blog]

“The zoo gift shop is littered with ‘em- Shall we go to the zoo together, sometime? I always wonder if any magical creatures ever tried to infiltrate the cages without any Muggles figuring out otherwise.” Lily smirked, “I think I saw a snake that seemed to look at the children as if it followed along to their conversations once, but all snakes are rather hypnotising..” She said conversationally. The way Lily talked, sometimes, she used her hands and flung them about, voice airy and light. Her over exaggerated features matched her actions, lips pulling into a broad smile when Marlene found a little laughter to bring into the room. This was the kind of day she wanted --- to distract Marlene McKinnon enough to make her smile and laugh and remember the joys of her life, no matter how many burdens she was facing. 

She leaned in, propping her chin onto Marlene’s shoulder. “Neneti, hmm? You have a knack for findin’ the unique names, darling. Perhaps we’ll have to take you up on some baby name recommendations...” Her dark red brows bounced suggestively, heavy-lidded gaze narrowing. 

Once she hugged Marlene, she found comfort in the blonde’s arms. What a strange sensation to be the person who comes to console a great friend, and feeling an enormous reward from receiving a hug from the mourner? She stroked her hand through Marlene’s blonde waves once her best friend cuddled into her, humming slightly as she sank into the soft couch. 

“But you’re doing a great deal by even venturing into that horrible place.” She murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re making the world happier. And I know it’s hard for you, it takes a bit of your soul when you spend too much time in such a desolate place. But you have-” she shook her head now, passionate about the subject, “You have SUCH a light within you, Marls. I’m here to help you keep that glowing, okay? We’re in this together, we’re not going to let you sink into a state where you can’t find that beautiful gift you have.... Got it?” She kissed her temple. “What do you say we go for an adventure? Get some fresh air on our faces? If you could do anything - within means of a pregnant sidekick - what would you want to do?”

[far-from-wilted-blog]

Collision Act |Severus & Lily | Stripper!AU

[notlibatiusborage]

far-from-wilted:

“I’m /beneath/ you already, or have you forgotten your previous sentiments? What’re you doing nowadays, concocting drinks for the same men you just kicked in the bollocks?” Lily’s fingers flexed as she quickly peered down at her flushed arm, rouge rings forming around her trembling wrist where he held her. She couldn’t tell what she specifically felt more within her to quake: rage, shock, a flurry of unlocked emotions she wasn’t prepared to face when colliding with Severus Snape of all people, particularly in all places such as this.

Eyes snapped onto his murkier pair. Even in the time she hadn’t seen him, she could tell Snape had sprouted, evolved. Her attention stayed on him, boring in to try and reduce him back into the sweet boy who she thought would always know her best. “If you’ve /ever/ known /anything/ about me, Severus, its’ that a woman has a right to be whatever she pleases and find power at any kind of work she does. It doesn’t make her anything less. The money’s good, I don’t feel violated, I’m intellectually stimulated people-watching here. Anthropological study, if you will.” She found herself stumbling over her words, speaking fast and sharp. “Reducing the idiots who need to come here and pay for a show to jelly, seeing what ridiculous information they let slip through their slobbering lips. I’m taking what I want out of it, and I don’t need you here defending me like you have my best interest at heart.” 

She twirled the dressing gown’s belt in her hand, whipping it slightly as she contemplated fully putting on the robe. Despite the fact that she was nearly naked in front of him, a part of her stubborn redheaded senses craved to defy his attempt at covering her up. She was there, she was real, he couldn’t avoid her, no matter how may times the both of them had tried to hide away within their separate lives. Just to flaunt her defiance in his face, Lily rolled her shoulders back and smoothed her flowing locks over her shoulder, letting the silk material of the robe slink down her shoulders and pool in a puddle at her feet. “What’re you sorry for? Go’on, then.” She muttered, lips twitching as she felt a small blush creep up on her neck, her skin prickle and rise as she crossed her arms. “Prove it.” She squinted in a glare. 

“that’s not true.” The answer was instant and immediate. It took even less thought than it had to say..what he had. “That’s not true you’re not beneath me. You never were and you must kno-” He looked back towards the where the room would hae been if the walls weren’t there. “I’m studying. This is just a job, Lily.” He felt his lips tighten at the realisation that he’d fallen almost completely into the trap. if it was a job for him, why wasn’t it for her? “It’s not about ruddy, women’s power it’s…there are some not nice people here. I know what I’m doing here, Lily. I can handle them if they kick off.” 

That hurt a lot, “I do have your best interes- I’ve got nothing BUT your best interests at heart, Lils. “ He watched the silk slide off her shoulders and an ugly blush high on his sallow cheecks made his anger seem like embarassment. He balled his fists again, took a few deep breaths and exhaled some fo the tension. Enough to open hs hands at least. “I’m sorry for what I called you. I really am, Lils.” He was nothing but honest now. He really hoped she was ready to listen this time.

How di dhe prove that though. he looked down at himself, as though he was the one in barely any clothing, not her. he needed to prove he had changed, but he knew that outwardly he didn’t seem to have. And working here didnt really invite her to think favourably of him. His eyes refocussed, staring at the ground more determinedly now as he bent and knelt down like a supplicant at an altar, slightly uncomfortable on his knees and in these boots, but not uncomfortable at all compared to the look Lily had been fixing on him.  He looked up at her. “Please, Lily.”

[far-from-wilted-blog]

Lily wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not when he said it wasn’t true. Sure, her cutting him off completely for calling her those words when they were young was a drastic, hard-hitting decision, but at the time she was beginning to see their rather knotted friendship begin to unravel already. How strange a phenomenon society was, pushing two people together and ensnaring them, binding them to each other, then ripping them apart when evolving social circles, expectations, and influences prick and prod. 

“This is just a job for me, too- not all of us have influential new pricks for friends-” She took her time, tilting her head and steadying her breathing as best she could, failing to steer clear of trembling. She couldn’t allow him to see her crack- despite the circumstances, she was doing so well to try and hold any sort of power or prowess over the much taller of the two. The blush on his cheeks, the clench of his fists, the stumbling over his smooth, low words, caused her fair cheeks to flush and creep up on her. Skeptical as ever, afraid of the fact she wished she could give him another chance, she swallowed hard and braced herself as he kneeled before her. A looming knight, of sorts, pledging his oath to a woman who didn’t need, nor want, to be saved. “You’re a lot better than this, Severus. We were a lot better than this with each other.” She scowled, clicking her heels as she shifted weight onto her other foot before him as she took a step closer. 

The second she caught his eye, and he looked up at her and said her name, her lips parted and the glare faltered for a split second. Enough to show him the same expression gave him when they first met in the playground. Eyes never aged, only the memories within them.  Fuck. The word blared in her ears, and she leaned forward, tilting up his chin to cast the blaring ceiling light on him -- to get a clear look at the man before her and find all the memories in him. 

The thing she didn’t want to have happen started happening as she leaned in, face growing hot and eyes squinting at his. Stinging face. Glistening pupils. An annoying punch at her chest. “Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like if you didn’t think what you did... Obviously you were thinkin’ it, at the time, or you wouldn’t have said it.” She whispered. “Where we’d be. Sometimes I miss telling you about only things I know you’d appreciate. Comin’ to you when my parents passed.” 

She blinked a few more times, forcing out a harsh sigh as her sharp face softened only slightly, subconsciously. “It’s difficult to forgive and forget. It’s not just the name you called me, it’s the years of us avoiding each other that’ve cemented this shite. It’ll take some time to believe you, and that depends on what you do with our little situation..” 

[far-from-wilted-blog]

We should start thinking about the nursery room. I've seen this brilliant mobile with tiny snitches and broomsticks on it. You reckon we could get it for the tiny one?

I think we should get one for our room as well, keep you occupied and relaxed to watch the little brooms zoom ‘round the ceiling after a night out in the pub. I worry if we just get one for the baby’s room, I’ll find you both asleep in the crib.

‘Course we can get one! On one condition: we paint the walls Muggle style, no magic allowed. Caution: paint war may ensue. Going down, Potter!

[on-borrxwed-time]

far-from-wilted:

That sounds like a challenge. Is that a challenge, Evans? 

Photographic evidence: then the boy’ll relate to me one day when he sees those pics and realises how much his father hogs the bed - that arse of yours seems bigger than a bloody hippogriff’s in the middle of the night, tossing and turning. 

You and your challenges… S’a deal. I have some dangerous tactics to get you covered in paint…

Let me remind you that this is the arse you’ve married. You’ve chosen that arse to be your one and only, and you had sworn to love it both in sickness and in health. And with how much you like groping it, I think you’re full of hippogriff’s shit, darling. 

And I know how to make sure we don’t ruin… any clothes.

[far-from-wilted-blog]

You’ve always been a walking arse to me, love. Between those years of Quidditch training for that golden boy bum and your cruel pranks growing up-- 

Is that so, hmm? I’d love to ruin you instead.

Turn you into an absolutely hopeless mess.

Spare room now, Potter. Give me your worst. I’ll shut you up in a heartbeat.