jon snow in adwd tho
A/N: Here’s a little student!Lily/ teacher!James that I hope is not too cliche…
“Lily,” Marlene hissed, this time louder than the numerous times she had done it before. A few students sitting in the rows in front of them turned to throw them annoyed glares.
Lily continued to ignore her friend, determined as she was to stay out of trouble in this class at least. She failed to repress the thought of Professor McGonagall’s harsh reprimand when she caught them whispering to each other in their previous lecture. Her cheeks, she was convinced as she waited for class to begin, were still faintly tinted with color from having all eyes on her.
But Marlene McKinnon was not one to give up so easily. She scribbled something on a blank piece of paper before setting it in front of Lily.
AN: Hey, anon! I, um… I don’t know about this. I still have to edit it tons, and I didn’t think it would get this long, but it got away from me. Also, you didn’t mention a resolution for them, so… here you are.
(Does it make a difference? Being muggleborn?)
She’s read the article four times in a row now, but her eyes stay glued to the paper. Her fingers don’t shake. Funny. Her left hand doesn’t grip the mug tight either. And she ought to, she thinks, she ought to, doesn’t she; after all, she’s got to find some way to channel the… this. Whatever it is. What even is this? It feels… hollow. Her body’s gone numb. Is this limbo? Oh god, she’s losing it. Something’s starting to whir in her brain, something she’s worked long and hard to turn off. She can feel it slowly reverbrate back to life. She’s scared. She knows why it’s there, she knows what it’s saying, and she’s scared she may finally give in to it. But her fear seems to have just knuckled down on her heart rate. No shaking this time. No lashing out. No biting her lower lip in apprehension. Her heart, just her heart, has gone absolutely, beyond control erratic. She’s going to break here, now; Merlin, she’s brittle, and it’s cold, and something… something is falling inside of her, or trying to gnaw its way out—but why then is everything else so still—?
“Evans?” Sirius calls from across the table.
She raises her head up a second too late to pass for nonchalance. “Yeah?”
Dedicated to Kayla as a late birthday present.
"If you ever put a ring on my finger, if it costs more than a galleon I’m giving it back," Lily had said, looking at the giant sparkling gem gracing the hand of a fellow Order member. James is determined to hold true to the promise.
He’s thought about cheating her condition by presenting her with a family heirloom, but for all the belongings his mother has passed on, a ring was not among them. In his parents’ age, wizards were more fond of pendants for engagements than rings, and so that is what his father had given to his mother when he proposed. He wouldn’t mind giving it her, but it is a Muggle tradition to drop down on one knee and present a ring, and he does not want to take that moment away from her. Besides, he understands the spirit of her statement and wants her to be happy.
And so, feeling a little ridiculous, he is looking around at a 99 pence store for something to ask Lily Evans to be his wife.
"Something seems to have snuck into bed with James," remarks Sirius casually, inclining his head towards his best mate’s four-poster. "Now, what do you suppose it could be?"
Remus eyes the two pairs of feet sticking out of the curtains. One is the familiar sight of the feet of their friend and dorm mate, the other a noticeably smaller pair entangled with his. “The feet are smaller. Perhaps a first year?” he proposes, grinning.
"Or a house elf," suggests Peter from his spot on his own bed. He wears an identical expression to Remus.
Sirius puts on a face that is the picture of worry. “D’you reckon our mate has been attacked by a rogue house elf? He might be lying there, dead, behind that curtain. Seems like it’s our duty to check on him.”
"Only out of the purest concern for his safety," says Peter, nodding.
Remus rolls up his sleeves. “Sacrifices must be made.”
Lily hears him before she sees him, because when a person has a penchant for becoming invisible in order to cause trouble, you learn to recognise the sound of their footsteps. Sure enough, as the footsteps grow louder, James appears around the corner, windswept in his Quidditch robes. His muddy Quidditch robes, Lily notices, seconds before she spies the wand held loosely in his hand, surreptitiously erasing the muddy footprints his boots are creating.
She shakes her head and turns back to Wilbur, the sweet little second-year she’s been tutoring for a few weeks now. She and James have slipped unconsciously into numerous routines since they started going out, one being Wednesday evenings: James has Quidditch practice while she tutors Wilbur, and then comes up to the library as soon as he finishes so they can walk back to the common room together. His appearance now either means that he finished early or she’s running over, and she has a feeling it’s the latter, but Wilbur’s doing so well, and the look on his face when he gets something right warms her heart … besides, she muses wickedly, it won’t do James any harm to be made to wait for once.
yeah well my otp had an actual statue erected in their honour wbu