Blushing Home

"Telling a teenager the facts of life is like giving a fish a bath." - Arnold H. Glasow

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Merlin, bloody stop. Finite Incantatem.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Shut the ruddy hell up!

Be—

I swung out my arm and smacked the crap out of whatever was so inconsiderately arousing me from my slumber.

"Oww! Bloody freaking oww!" I yelped. I moved my blankets out of my face and opened my eyes to examine my hand. Thankfully, no blood was visible, but a dark red mark was forming by my knuckles. That was going to bruise. Moaning languidly, I wriggled a bit so that I was almost in a sitting position.

"Lily? Are you okay? What happened?"

Great. Now my mother thought I was being murdered in my sleep. I knew that shrill tone of panic. It was motherly concern voice number nine.

Beep. Beep. Be-

I looked over at the malevolent alarm clock and switched it off. My worthy adversary was defeated. I slumped down onto my pillows.

"Lily!" My mum called from the bathroom, I guessed.

I groaned. "I'm fine, Mum. No rapists or murderers or Petunia. You can stop freaking out."

"What was that noise? Are you hurt?"

I looked down at my hand, which was still bright red and swelling very slightly. At least my nails still looked good. Now I couldn't be forced back for a retouch before we left the Spa From Hell.

"Just my hand and my pride," I called back to her. "Who sets an alarm clock?"

I could hear her chuckling from all the way underneath the covers. "Lily, it's what you're supposed to do with them. It's completely normal."

"Yeah, well, I'm not," I retorted grumpily. "I hate beeping noises."

Emerging from the bathroom and looking refreshed, my mum walked over to me with laughter in her eyes. I hated it when people laughed at my expense. I was in pain!

She sat down on the bed next to me and kissed my forehead.

"Yes, but I needed to get you up somehow. I didn't want to get kicked, and Petunia's downstairs getting her arms waxed."

Ignoring her latter comment and the utter absurdity surrounding my sister and her unfathomable brain which made her think her blonde arms were hairy, I frowned at her.

"You set it?"

"Yes, and now you're up," she told me with a grin. "See, it does work!"

"Ooh, amazing. So do guns, but we don't test them out on our poor, unsuspecting children," I muttered underneath my breath.

"I heard that," Mum grumbled and smacked me over the covers.

"Oww!" I screeched. Somehow, she had managed to hit my hand. I tore it out from underneath the covers. "Of all the places," I moaned.

"Oh, let me see that," Mum said as she grabbed my hand.

"Ouch!" I exclaimed.

"Sorry," she apologized while decreasing the amount of pressure she was using. She analyzed my hand with her fingers and pressed gingerly on the forming bruise. I did my best not to whimper or let the tears forming in my eyes fall.

"Well, it's definitely not broken. You don't need a doctor."

"Thank Merlin," I breathed. I hated hospitals and examinations. They always made you take your clothes off, wear those gowns that exposed your butt, and then asked you embarrassing questions like "how long has it been since you've last engaged in sexual intercourse?" or "have you pooped yet today?". Frankly, I was not in the mood today.

"We'll just keep an eye on it and maybe get some ice at breakfast before we leave."

I looked up at her eagerly. "We're leaving soon?"

If she noticed the enthusiasm that our bonding would be over soon, she didn't let on. "Yes, we're going to spend a few hours at the mall first before we head home. Petunia has a party to go to with Vernon that she needs a new dress for."

The mall? Hell, I'd rather go to the hospital. I'd take butt-revealing gowns any day over Petunia's fashion choices. At least, then I would know that only my butt was being revealed. Damn my hand for not being broken!

"Mum, Tuney takes forever to pick out clothes! Can't you just drop me off at home?"

My mum ruffled my hair. "Then, I'd have to endure the torture alone. If I'm going down, Lily, I'm bringing you with me. Besides, the sooner you get ready, the sooner we can get this all over with." She smiled at me to try to make it seem enjoyable, but I knew better than to accept the bait. Unfortunately, I had made a promise to myself not to upset my mum.

I sighed dramatically and then threw my legs over the side of the bed before heaving myself upwards. I stumbled towards the bathroom.

"Lily?" Mum called.

I halted by the door and turned around. "Yeah, Mum?"

"Were you wearing that shirt last night?" she asked me with suspicious eyes.

My face immediately blushed, and I begged every higher power that I could think of that she would not read too much into this. "Umm, no. I got hot last night and found it at the very bottom of my suitcase. I must have missed it before," I babbled quickly.

She nodded, but the skepticism still lined her face. She opened her mouth to say something else, but I quickly averted any more questioning by yanking the bathroom door open and launching myself inside. "Gotta pee, Mum!"

With my back against the door, I took a brief moment to regain my wits. Running my fingers through my hair, I moved over to the sink and splashed some water on my face. Looking at my red cheeks, I took a deep breath. Today was day five, and I was fairly certain that I was already having a mental breakdown.

I mean, last night! I had let him get too close. I needed to stop letting him affect me so much physically. I couldn't believe that his body could make mine act so primitively, instinctually. He just had to get within a few centimeters of me, and my entire body succumbed to the estrogen flooding through my veins. Thankfully, however, my brain was in better shape. I knew he was still the same James Potter. That, at least, would never change.

I carefully took James's shirt off and sniffed it one last time before guiltily folding it and putting it where it wouldn't get ruined. Then, I stepped into the shower. Time to get ready for the mall. Happy, happy, bloody, joy, joy!

I ate breakfast without really tasting anything. I doubted I missed out on anything too spectacular. Complimentary breakfasts always meant the same thing: bland cinnamon rolls, fatty bacon, and orange juice with too much pulp in it. My mum tried to engage me into a conversation about her plans for her students next year, but I was too wrapped up in my own thoughts and drowsiness to reply with anything very meaningful. Eventually, she gave up on trying to capture my attention with her coloring ideas and short story read-a-thons and talked to Petunia, instead.

I would have pitied her, but my hand bloody hurt.

Once the lackluster breakfast was over, we grabbed our bags from the room and left after searching all the drawers for anything we might have missed. The world would have imploded if we had left Tuney's favorite eyelash curler behind. However, all that was left was the Bible. Vaguely, I wondered if the Leaky Cauldron had any books that it left out for its patrons. I highly doubted that Hogwarts, A History would have the same desired effect. Nevertheless, we piled into the elevator and went all the way down.

Petunia and I hovered around the posh lobby furniture while Mum checked us out.

"Your arms look very hairless," I told Petunia.

"Thank you," she replied without really turning to address me except for a flash of her eyes.

I decided it would be better for everyone present if I didn't mention that my comment had not been meant as a compliment.

"You should really consider getting waxed," Petunia told me in an unfamiliar attempt at helpfulness. "It lasts for so much longer than shaving does."

"Yeah," I agreed. "But it hurts too."

Petunia shrugged and pivoted so that she was facing me now. "Yeah, but it's nice for the summer. That way you don't have to shave everything every morning. Sometimes, I long for pants."

I smiled. "But then you always get too restless and long for flip-flops."

"No, I don't," she argued.

"Yes, you do!" I corrected her. "Mum got so mad at you that one winter when you wore them to school and nearly got frostbite on your feet!"

"Oh," she chuckled. "Right."

I related to her completely. I hated when any season wore on for too long. I always felt the need to change, to escape, to begin something new. I hated feeling trapped.

"But it's too hot to wear anything long in the summer," Petunia complained. "So I'm stuck habitually removing hair from my body," she resigned with a bitter sigh.

I grinned. All females knew exactly how she felt. "Great genetics we've got, huh? Mum's side has heart disease, and Dad's family are all hairy beasts. It's a good thing we're pretty," I added as a joke.

"Some of us," she countered as she poked me in the arm.

I stuck my tongue out at her.

Petunia rolled her eyes, but smiled lightly. "We should really look into trading them in for a new model."

I chuckled quietly. "But then we would be so normal," I reminded her as I contorted my face in disgust at the word. "Didn't we decide that we were going to be superheroes when we were younger? Do you remember that day when Dad showed us all of his old comic books?"

Petunia nodded. "I remember. I was going to be the superhero, and you were going to be my trusty sidekick because you were shorter than me."

"And I always threw a tantrum because I wanted to be the superhero, too," I said as I recalled the memory fondly.

"We even convinced Mum to help us make costumes," Petunia added.

"We did," I agreed.

My mum walked over to us with a large smile on her face. "What's this?" she asked rhetorically. "My girls are actually talking, in fact, smiling," she emphasized, "without fighting? Did I miss something? Did they make an announcement that there was going to be a natural disaster soon? Should I invest in some flood gear?"

I laughed humorously. "Funny, Mum," I deadpanned.

"I thought so," she sing-songed.

"You were the only one," Petunia muttered. "I knew we should have traded in," she added quietly.

Mum looked at her strangely, but Petunia didn't reveal anything. I caught her eye, and we smirked together.

As we got into the car, I reflected on how glad I was that I hadn't just told Petunia that I could magic off my hair anytime I wanted to. Everything was so much easier when I pretended to be normal. I knew it was wrong, and I knew that I was special and all that crap, and I knew that I could be so much more with my gifts, that I had the responsibility to do more. But for my sister's sake, I desperately wanted to be normal.

However, our moment of sisterly bonding turned out to be just as fleeting as anyone could have predicted. By the end of the car ride to the mall, we were both affronted and loudly not speaking to each other. I seemed to be incapable of not saying something flippant whenever Vernon was brought up, and Petunia always had to take it as a personal attack. I knew I should have kept the whale stuff to myself. But still! It was a perfectly legitimate comparison. She was just being impossible. As always.

Annoyed more with the frequency of our fighting rather than this particular fight itself, Mum sighed heavily and forced us into the nearest department store. We were going to bond, damnit, and no amount of hissy fits was going to change that. I had to admire her pluckiness. For a Mum, mine kind of kicked ass.

It was hard reminding myself of that fact as she forced me to try on clothes, however.

"Mum," I told her irately. "I don't need any dresses. I'm a witch. We wear robes!"

"Because you belong in bathrooms," Petunia sneered.

"Well, then you must see a lot of wizards, then, Tuney, because when are you not in the bathroom fretting over your imagined blackheads?"

Ahh, now things were back to normal. Insult and comeback, repeated over and over again. It was a familiar rhythm that I had memorized long ago.

"Stop it, you two. If you don't behave, we're going home right now," my mum interrupted us sternly.

"Great!" I exclaimed as I put the dresses down on a chair in the dressing room.

"Lily," warned Mum, looking so much like a tiger about to pounce that I picked the dresses back up and walked into one of the changing rooms.

"I really don't need any dresses," I insisted as I tugged off my clothes without caring if they got all wrinkled. "I don't ever go anywhere anyway."

"You never know when you'll need something nice to wear. It's good just to have it in your closet in case the opportunity presents itself," called Mum wisely, as only women who have experienced life could advise.

I immaturely rolled my eyes and, with a great deal of body contortions, tugged the zipper up my back. Unceremoniously and without even glancing at myself in the mirror first, I pushed open the door and emerged.

"Voila," I muttered acerbically.

My mother and my sister eyed me critically. In my family, if something looked ugly, we said it. Their gazes made me feel uncomfortable.

"I'll just go take it off then," I mumbled.

"Don't!" Mum assured me. "It looks lovely on you, Lily. Do you like it?"

I looked into the closest mirror. The dress was strapless and about an inch above my knees. It was white but adorned with a colorful floral pattern mostly around the bodice. I had to concede, even though I didn't really want to, that it was a very pretty dress. Still, I would never have any place to wear it to. I couldn't exactly show up to the Hogwarts Halloween feast in this getup.

"Lily doesn't even want it, Mum. Shouldn't we be trying to find me a dress?" Petunia, forever the narcissist, complained.

"Just a second," Mum insisted. "Lily, as your mother, who so rarely offers to spend money on things and won't have the chance to do so in the future because as soon as you graduate your father and I are promptly kicking you out of the house so you can just magic your own money, I suggest you stop being so bloody stubborn and let me buy you the dress."

I snorted.

"Besides," she added with a smile. "I think James would really like it."

And just like that, I had a new dress.

Riled, I watched my mother slyly saunter off behind Petunia. She played dirty.

I changed quickly and dragged my bloody dress behind me. Who cared if James would think I would look pretty in it? I didn't need to dress up for him. He wasn't even my real boyfriend. Besides, he'd seemed just fine with what I had worn last night. I blushed when I thought about his t-shirt, which I had fastidiously packed away into my suitcase after, I was ashamed to admit, I had put a charm on it so that his smell would never leave it. Yes, apparently I was that pathetic.

Shaking my head to rid the weird thoughts that had been plaguing me all day, I finally found the other Evans women. My mum was trying to persuade Petunia to consider what I thought was a pretty skirt, but Petunia just sniffed her nose at it with her Tuney 'tude.

"Mum, I'm going to Vernon's promotion celebration, not to a grimy retirement party. I don't need to look like I'm in geriatrics," Petunia complained.

"Vernon got promoted?" I asked. "So can he actually use the copier now, or is that still too advanced for him?"

I laughed at my own joke, but my mum's withering gaze silenced me quickly.

"Lily, shut it," she hissed into my ear before whacking me in the arm.

"Petunia, you don't like any of the dresses and since you can't seem to even subject yourself to the skirts, I don't know what else to tell you," said Mum diplomatically.

"Well, then, we'll just have to go to another store," said Petunia simply. "Preferably not one with such tacky clothes," she added haughtily with an eye on my dress.

I forced my features into a grin. I might or might not have been sending hexes at her with my eyes.

We, well, Mum, paid for the dress, and then we traveled to a different, much more expensive and presumptuous store that advertised its "only the best" policy. From the overzealous workers to the trendy music, the entire place made me want to gag. Of course, Petunia adored it.

She fluttered through the racks of clothing and snatched the miniature-sized clothing like it would disappear if it wasn't in her hands immediately.

"Mum," I called. "I'll be right back. I'm going to run to another store."

My mother looked at me with panic in her eyes. "Don't leave me alone with her," she pleaded.

"Mum," I cooed with a smile. "This trip is about bonding. Don't you want to spend quality time with your eldest daughter while you still can?"

My mum eyed me murderously. "I'll make you make small talk with Vernon for the rest of the summer!" she threatened.

I laughed as I strode out the door.

Glad to be out of that claustrophobic store, I went to the only place I ever really enjoyed going to in the mall: the book store. As I walked inside, I strained my ears for any sound, but gloriously, I was met only with welcomed silence. I smiled. I allowed my fingers to skim the spines of books as I meandered through the shelves. I stopped at the Classic Literature section and gazed at all of the noteworthy volumes. Writing came naturally to me. I could pop out a half-meter on the Goblin Wars, or something equally as heinous, in thirty minutes. Still, I never ceased to be amazed by the wondrous allure of good fiction. I could link a few phrases together: subject, verb, object. Yet, nothing I could ever write about Potion Theory would compare to the love before me. For, if something was going to be written well, it must be done so with love.

I gently pulled one of my beloved volumes off the shelf and turned to my favorite part. I inhaled the smell of newly printed pages and sat down in the middle of the aisle. Sliding my legs underneath me, I immersed myself into the pages. It felt heavenly to be in someone else's world where magic really was the stuff of fairy tales. Time ticked by, and I was safe in my own little world. No one bothered me, and I had no worries, no expectations, and no thoughts other than the story. The only possible downside was that at some point I would have to leave this wonderful world and return to my own.

After I had finished a chapter, I slowly got up and put the book back. Though I could have stayed in the store for hours and still wanted more, I needed to return to my mother before my sister killed her. Though, I was sure that if it had come down to it, my mum could have taken her. Petunia might kick, but my mum could put some force behind a punch.

As I could have easily guessed, my mother was not happy when I returned. I heard her spouting off about her gray hairs when I arrived. Apparently, we all had hair issues. She clung to my arm like a drowning person would to a lifeguard. I had the nail marks to prove it. Eventually, after I had rolled my eyes at least a dozen times, snorted indignantly twice that amount, and vowed to never allow Petunia near retail again, we left and got some lunch.

Eyeing Petunia's dainty forkful of salad, I shoved my chicken sandwich into my face and grinned into its juicy tenderness.

"Excuse me," said Petunia, who sounded slightly disgusted. "I'm going to go to the bathroom."

"Yeah, to avoid my sandwich's awesomeness," I mumbled to myself as I watched her retreat, most likely to find if she could get dressing with negative calories to go "on the side."

"Lily, I need to talk to you about something," my mum said as she put down her fork and watched me with guarded eyes. Her eye was twitching slightly, which was never a good sign.

I nodded with a mouthful of fried goodness. "Okay, shoot," I answered after swallowing.

"I'm worried about your relationship with James," she said cautiously.

I put down my sandwich in shock. Did she really just say that? Was this the chance I had been looking for to end this whole debacle? Yes, Merlin loved me again!

"What?" I asked.

"Well, Lily, you're seventeen years old, and now you have this boyfriend who you have really strong feelings for. And, I know what it's like when you're in love with a boy and all you want to do is be together."

I nodded slowly. Sure, I guess you could call it that. What would James's girlfriend do?

"And don't get me wrong, I adore James. I think he's a wonderful boy. He's so polite and charming and handsome."

"Yeah, he's a wonder," I replied without bothering to remove the sarcasm.

"Which is why I'm worried about you," she said.

I wrinkled my noise. "I'm not following you," I told her.

She sighed wearily. "Lily, I realize that you and James might want to be sexually intimate, and I-"

I banged my hand down onto the table in shock. Of course, it was the bruised hand, but I was too frozen with mortification to even worry about the stinging. "Mum!" I screeched.

"Lily, I feel we need to have this conversation. You have all this peer pressure, and you're thinking, 'Well, if everyone else is doing it, why can't I?'"

"Mum, don't tell me what I'm thinking!" I squealed as I tried to hide my bright red face underneath the table of out booth.

"Lily, this is important," she chastised.

"Aww, Mum!" I interrupted her. "You can't seriously want to have a sex talk with me right now," I complained. "This is a public restaurant."

"I know that, Lily," she continued. "But this morning when I saw you in his t-shirt I thought it was time for us to have a little chat."

Damn, I knew that shirt would get me into trouble. It smelled too bloody good not to.

"Mum, please not now," I begged her as I felt my face begin to redden even more.

"Lily, boys want certain things from girls. They have urges that are stronger than ours."

I highly doubted she had ever been snogged by James Potter. Hell, I knew what urges were. Mine were probably a hell of a lot stronger than his were lately. Oh, Merlin, I really just thought that. My face turned ten times redder than before.

"It's a natural, beautiful part of life. However, you need to be mature enough to handle it. Plus, there are risks: unwanted pregnancy, herpes, genital warts."

"Mum!" I squealed as I eyed the other diners furtively. "Not so loud!"

"You just need to make sure you're ready, sweetheart. Don't rush into anything. Personally, I'd rather you waited till you were married, but I trust that you'll make the right decision for you. I remember when your father and I—"

"Mum, if you do not want me to end up in therapy for the rest of my life, I need you to stop talking," I ordered.

"But—" she tried.

"No," I cut her off. "In my mind, you and Daddy got me from the stork in a basket with a balloon tied to the top. End of discussion."

"Lily, you're being very immature about all this."

"Yes, well, you're being too graphic for my liking," I told her.

She laughed freely as I wanted to find a small, dark hole to curl into. "Well, how am I supposed to know what's going on? You and James are at the same school without parental supervision for the majority of the year. It worries me."

Against my will, my mind pictured us together at Hogwarts. It would be so easy for him to sneak up to my dormitory one night, even with the stair rule, and ruin my mother's precious calm. Hands, tongues, limbs would entwine. I thought of the sighs he could make me moan with just snogging and wondered how much they would intensify. Then, I looked at my mother. Sexy thoughts gone.

"Besides," she continued. "If you aren't mature enough to even talk about sex with your mother, the woman who gave birth to you, I feel like you're not ready to engage in it."

"That's not a big problem, Mum," I muttered.

"What?" she asked hopefully.

I fiddled with my hands awkwardly as the blush continued to control my face. She was really going to make me say it. "James and I are not having sex," I mumbled.

She sighed audibly. "Oh, thank God," she muttered before smiling at me. "Not that I don't like James, Lily, dear, but I just don't think you're ready yet. You'll know when the time is right for you. You've always been a bright girl. I know you'll make smart, safe choices, Lily," she told me. "Choices that hopefully won't happen till you're forty."

I rolled my eyes.

"Now are you sure you don't want to hear any of my stories?" she offered wickedly. "I have some good ones, kinky too."

My eyes bulged out of their sockets, but before I could even begin to articulate a response, Petunia sat down.

I had never been so happy to see her in my entire life.

My face was almost back to its normal complexion when we arrived home. Eagerly, I flounced inside and let my eyes linger over all of the familiar images: the scrubbed, wooden kitchen table, the picture of a crying Petunia and my toothless self, pulling Petunia's hair, from when we were younger that hung by the stairs, and the worn, snug couch that swallowed you when you sat down.

"We're home!" my mum announced to the whole house.

I heard some shuffling of feet and other noises before the boys – well, I supposed a male whale could also be considered a boy, loosely – promptly rushed down the stairs and arrived at our side. James's eyes found me quickly. I looked back at him for a blazing second before my mum caught my eye, and my face started to heat up again.

"My women are back!" my dad exclaimed as he embraced my mother. "I was worried that the police were going to call me soon to inform me of an epic chick fight."

"Dad!" I squealed.

"Hey, baby girl," he greeted as he threw his arm around my shoulder and kissed the top of my head. "And Tuney," he added as he reached out for Petunia as well. "My two favorite daughters. I'm glad you didn't kill each other. It takes so long to get past that annoying toilet-training phase."

"Dad!" Petunia screeched.

Laughing genially, he let us go and turned back to my mother. "You look more radiant than ever, dear."

My mum giggled but then controlled her face into a scowl. "Don't flatter me, Henry. I can smell the Indian food."

"Damn," my dad sighed. "Cat's out of the bag now, James. I told you she's got a nose like a dog."

"Henry!"

At this point, I was too distracted by James, who was less than a meter away from me, to pay any more attention to my lovesick parents. Wordlessly, we followed each other into the empty living room.

"I'm back," I offered lamely with an uneasy smile.

He grinned. "Yeah, have fun?"

"On a scale of one to ten?" I asked.

James nodded.

"It sucked. My mum thinks we're having sex."

He barked out a laugh and pulled me into a hug. "That's fantastic!" he chuckled.

"Idiot," I muttered darkly. "It was awful!"

"Poor, Lily," he cooed sweetly. "Would it really be so bad?" he asked with a laugh as he allowed his hands to drift lower down my back.

"James!" I squealed and brought them back up. "Yes, it would. Remember? That was the one part of this whole ridiculous arrangement that we have ironed out for sure."

"Sorry, I'm so forgetful," he whispered as he nuzzled his face into my neck so that I could feel his breathing and warmth pressed up against me. "I'm glad you're back," he sighed into my ear.

I closed my eyes and inhaled his scent, which was so much stronger than that of my new favorite shirt. "Me too," I admitted.

"Missed me?" he asked as he pulled away from the hug so that he could look me in the eye.

"Less than I missed my bed," I answered cheekily.

"Well, I know one sure fire way to solve both those problems," he replied back with a wink.

Rolling my eyes, I shoved his chest backward. "Not in this lifetime, Potter. Now, shush. My mum will hear you," I hissed. "Do you know how mortifying that was? I don't think I'll be able to look her in the eye for a week."

"I think it would be a rather pleasant experience," countered James, smirking.

"James," I threatened.

"Lily," he mirrored, though his utterance sounded less like a warning and more like a reverent prayer, as he let his fingers roam across my face in what felt like an attempt to memorize every feature.

"I can't believe you can be so nonchalant about all of this," I told him. "I was a complete and utter mess the entire time. I can't even think about it without my face going all red and splotchy."

He chortled as his thumbs brushed over the evidence of my obvious embarrassment. "We're in control of the situation."

I snorted. Maybe he was, but I definitely wasn't.

"Parents are petrified of their children growing up," he continued. "I'm sure you would have gotten the talk eventually, regardless. My parents gave me it when I turned fifteen, and there were many long-winded and unfortunate metaphors. To this day, I can't look at hippos without blushing."

"Hippos?" I asked.

His face reddened slightly as he fidgeted in what some could call an adorable manner. "My dad really should not use metaphors."

"I guess it's dreadful for everyone then," I sighed. "I was hoping my mum would just wait till I was old and gray to give me it. Too bad my fake boyfriend just happened to expedite the process."

He grinned. "Can you blame her? Of course that's what she would be thinking. I'm devilishly handsome, you know," he teased. "She has every reason to be fearful for your purity."

I refused to let those enticing words, combined with the flicker of lust in his eyes, let my breathing falter. My lungs, however, refused to comply.

"You're easier to resist than you think," I told him.

"Oh, really?" he challenged. He grabbed my hip and guided me over to the couch. He leaned over so far that I had no choice but to lay down to preserve the space between us. He moved even closer to me so that his face was only mere centimeters away from my own and his body was pressed into mine.

My breath came out in shallow spurts that revealed how poorly I was resisting.

"You're saying," he whispered as his breath mingled with mine. "That you're not thinking anything sexual right now?"

My heart pounded in my chest. "No," I choked out, though to my ears it sounded more like a question.

He moved his lips down so they hovered along my jaw until they found a pressure point at my neck and teased the flesh there with the most tantalizing of touches.

"Are you sure?" he pressed huskily.

I felt my eyes want to roll to the back of my head. "No," I breathed.

"Mmm," he groaned so that I felt the vibrations in his chest along with the breath against my neck. "I thought so," he stated slowly.

Then, he popped up off of me with a grin. I sat up in dazed confusion. What? Where was the kiss? How dare he leave me just waiting like that? I opened my mouth to protest, but then I realized that would give him way too much power. I snapped it shut forcefully.

He must have noticed my hungry stare and disappointed eyes because he started laughing.

"James! You tricked me!" I accused as I swatted him with my arm. "That's not fair!"

"And neither are you when you look at me with your innocent little eyes and talk about sex with me. I'm a teenage boy, love. I can't control myself around you."

"Doesn't seem like it," I muttered.

"That's because you're always breathing too hard to notice," he replied with an impish smirk.

I narrowed my eyes and reached out to smack him again, but his Quidditch reflexes were too fast for me.

He examined my hand carefully as I let out a wince of pain.

"What did you do?"

"The alarm clock was asking for it. It needed to be exterminated," I told him.

"Lily," he sighed as he gently trailed his fingers over my purpling bruise. I hissed, and he stopped abruptly.

"I'll make it all better," James promised.

I rolled my eyes. "If you're going to kiss it to make it better," I warned.

He laughed and took out his wand. "How quickly your mind jumps to my kisses," he replied. He pointed his wand at his hand and suddenly the pain was gone and so was the bruise.

I slapped my now healed hand to my forehead. "Merlin, I had my wand on me all day, and I never thought to do that. My muggle life must really be getting to me."

James chortled. "You were too busy trying to be just like Petunia," said James, pointing to my nails.

I rolled my eyes but then let my expression soften. "Thank you."

He shrugged and then raised my hand to his lips. "All better."

"Cheater."

He smirked at me.

We didn't have long to play chicken with suggestive words and forward caresses because dinner was soon ready. We had fish. Apparently, while we were doing the clichéd girls' outing, the boys went on the quintessential male bonding adventure: fishing. The mere mention of the idea made me want to giggle uncontrollably. I could just picture my father in his "special" fishing hat and thigh-high galoshes trying to pacify a nauseous Vernon as James sat in the back and chuckled as he rocked the boat. It was even more ridiculous than three women shouting in a dressing room.

After abandoning half of my chicken sandwich at lunch as a result of having felt too revolted to eat with the knowledge that my mum was worrying that James had, uh, shown me how his wand worked, I ate my fish with gusto. I chose to listen to my parents discuss their respective weekends as I plowed my forkfuls into my mouth. James, who had yet to stray far from my side since I had returned home, reached out for my left hand underneath the table.

With curiosity, I watched as he interlaced our fingers.

I leaned over. "Now you can't eat," I whispered to him.

"I'll use my left hand," he told me as he gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, kissed my cheek, too close to the corner of my mouth for me to view it as chaste, and clumsily grabbed his fork with has left hand. As I watched him struggle to maneuver pieces of fish into his mouth, the corners of my mouth perked up on their own accord.

Once dinner was over, James left to go take a shower, and I tried very hard not to think about anything related to that completely prudent necessity that should not be used to fantasize in any way. It was necessary. Ahh, necessary meant something entirely different to me now. I would have to remove it from my vocabulary unless I, too, wanted to shower. I chose to squelch my thoughts by plopping down on at the kitchen chair next to my dad.

"Hey, daddy," I greeted him.

"Hello, my favorite flower."

I laughed. I only let my father refer to me as a plant. "What'cha doing?" I asked as I watched his fingers fiddle with a bunch of foreign metal objects.

"I'm just putting away some of my fishing gear," he told me. "I had a lot of fun today with the boys. James, particularly, is very good. He caught five out of the seven fish!" he exclaimed excitedly.

"Really?" I remarked in interest. "I didn't know he fished."

"He doesn't apparently. But, he's very good with his hands."

I didn't need him to tell me that. I controlled the rising blush and hastily changed the subject. "I bet you had more fun than we did."

Dad chuckled. "Only my little Lils would hate getting pampered. You were always a weird kid. You wanted to climb mountains and create explosions. We never could get you to just sit down and play dolls with Petunia."

"That's because that's so boring," I dramatized as I scrunched my nose.

He tapped my nose with his pointer finger. "You were just like me when I was younger," he told me.

"Really?" I asked.

"Really," he answered.

I smiled but then arranged my features into a fake pout. "Drat," I complained. "I wanted to be like someone cooler."

"Lily Evans!" he cried.

I giggled. "Just kidding, Dad."

He crossed his arms across his chest and made a show of sighing melodramatically. "You better be," he ordered.

We both broke out into fits of hysterics.

He took off his glasses and wiped his eyes as he tried to regain control. "Lily, I'm really glad you went with your Mum. It meant a lot to her to spend some time with her girls."

I blushed at his gratitude. My dad always made me feel like I was special just for doing the littlest things. Even remembering to bring laundry up the stairs would award me praise. Sadly, I could never shake the feeling that I didn't deserve it. "I could have been a bit nicer to Tuney," I admitted.

He smiled at me. "You do your best with what you can do. Older sisters are supposed to drive you mad. It's in the handbook. It's the younger sibling's job to antagonize them. Just ask your Aunt Lucy. I never missed an opportunity to annoy her as much as humanly possible. She positively hated me," Dad finished gleefully.

I laughed. "It's a good thing I'm the baby of the family then."

"You're not so little anymore, Lils," he reminded me softly.

"Yeah."

He paused for a second before opening his mouth to speak again. "You know, Lily, I really like James. I think he's a nice boy."

I smiled slowly. "He is," I sighed.

"Good, because I don't want anyone unworthy stealing away my little girl's affection away from me."

"Dad," I enunciated as though as I was talking to a toddler. "Don't worry about it. You're still my guy."

"Five fish, Lily!" he exclaimed excitedly. "On his first time out fishing, too!"

I shook my head and laughed.

I didn't see James again until midnight when he met me outside by the swings. "Hey," I greeted him.

"Hey."

He sat down next to me and started to rock in his swing a bit.

"My dad really likes you," I said. "He told me earlier."

James sighed in relief. "That's good. I wanted to make a good impression on your parents."

I frowned. "Because you're pretending to be my boyfriend, right?" I asked to make sure.

"Yeah," he agreed.

"Well," I said as I struggled to say the next part. "Thanks, James. I really appreciate how much effort you're putting into this. It's probably the most ridiculous thing I've ever done, and I'm not even sure how we've managed to dupe everyone so far. So, er, thanks."

James chuckled. "You practiced that, didn't you?"

I shifted in my seat. "Maybe," I replied vaguely. He grinned at me, and I sighed in exasperation. "Well, you were inside for a long time!"

He laughed loudly. "Sorry I had to keep you waiting," he apologized. "And you're welcome, Lily, even though I don't really understand why you're thanking me. Though," he amended, "it is rather a nice change to what I've grown accustomed to."

I smiled sheepishly as I recalled all of the awful things I had said to James in the past. "Anyway," I continued. "You've managed to win over my dad, and we already know my mum's on board the S.S. Lily and James Prudeship."

James sniggered. "Funny," he remarked.

I shrugged. "It comes and goes."

"You know, I really like your dad, too," said James, swinging back and forth. "We had a lot of time to kill this morning, so we ignored Vernon, obviously, and started talking Quidditch. After I explained the rules to him, your dad really seemed to get into the game. He's really great with strategy, too. I'm going to try out some of his ideas next year with the team. I want to take him to a real match someday."

"He would probably love that," I replied.

The idea of James and my father bonding was a weird one. On one hand, it bode well for me that my dad wasn't looking to make any trouble so that I could continue this charade for the next few days without any major suspicion. However, I didn't want them to become too close because I didn't want Dad to get hurt. Sure, James was terrific. He had managed to earn the affection of my overprotective and overbearing parents in a mere five days. He fished, he healed, and he charmed. When I needed him most, he pulled through for me and never once complained about having to be my fake boyfriend. But how did he know how much was just acting? Dad had just managed to reverse some of his former prejudices against James. Any new territory was only bound to hurt him when this all ended and life returned to normal. Dad had to take care of himself and make sure that he wasn't losing his head, diving in too deep. He couldn't let himself pretend that this was real. Eventually, he would get hurt.

"Lily?" asked James, flashing a hand in front of my face. "You okay? You look like you've just been obliviated."

I laughed and shook my head to get rid of my thoughts. "Just thinking," I told him. "So, James, how did you really catch five fish?"

Ruffling his hair, James grinned mischievously. "Can you keep a secret?"

I rolled my eyes. "Obviously," I said pointedly.

"I summoned them with my wand when nobody was looking."

We laughed for a long time. Part of me suspected it was more from the time of night than the hilarity of the words, though the image still amused me greatly.

After we had settled down and the high had ended, James rested his face against the rail of my swing.

"Mmm, I'm tired," he yawned as he nuzzled his face onto my shoulder. "Your dad woke me up at four this morning."

"But you didn't leave my hotel room till about one," I said.

He yawned again. "I know," he groaned.

"Merlin, you must be exhausted. We should go inside."

"No," he argued. "I'm good here," James protested from my shoulder. "You smell like strawberries." Now he was really starting to sound tired, the type of tired you were when you spouted off random things that didn't make much sense.

"C'mon, James, it's time to go to bed."

"But not with you," he pointed out.

"Yes," I agreed. "Certainly not with me."

I nearly had to drag him into the house and to his guest room.

He laughed when we reached his door. "You walked me home!" he said. "Does that make me the girl?"

I chuckled. "Yes, it does," I whispered.

"Then you have to kiss me."

"No, I don't," I argued.

"Yes, you do."

I realized that we would be standing outside this door for a very long time. "Fine," I huffed. I leaned up and kissed him on the cheek, but after I had made contact with his face, he turned it so that I got his lips. He kissed me slowly, as though he was lulling me to sleep.

However, as he broke away, I felt too wired to sleep anymore.

He grinned happily. "Night, love."

"Good night, James," I returned.

I drifted away into my room and pulled out my suitcase. Gently, I removed James's folded shirt and slipped it over me before crawling into my bed and falling asleep.

Story credits to Molly Raesly