♥️ 𝒥𝒾𝓁𝓎 ♥️

【Every night, Lily watches Leerie light the lamps...】

(Victorian Muggle AU)

(Entry for arnoldthe-pygmypuff 's competition- 2nd Place)

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A fine sprinkle of snow began to settle along the rooftops and gas lamps of the cobbled street, splendidly resembling the icing sugar across a glorious Victorian sponge cake. The sun had long since hidden until such times as tomorrow would arise and the lamps would no longer need to be lit.

It was always half past eight that Leerie arrived in the street. On the dot he'd come, regular as clockwork, to light the lamps, illuminating London bit by bit like birthday candles on the cake.

She called him Leerie. Of course that was, most likely, not his name (and if it was then it must have been enormous luck). In truth he probably had a perfectly normal name that didn't have an attached profession like Gerald or Henry but somehow Leerie suited him. It was puckish and clever.

She wasn't ashamed to admit she got copious amounts of unexplained pleasure from watching him do his shift in the street. She often frequented to the window at the rear of her home to study the figure that lit the lamps with care, carrying his own gas lantern that revealed his dark hair and endearing glasses.
Although she wouldn't dare call out to him like some other's did. She wasn't a child anymore and so shouldn't behave in such a puerile way but she still relished in watching him; tea cup in her hand and a book in the other as the lamps gradually cast light over the vast blanket of shadow that often carried the name London.

Sometimes Leerie would whistle a tune to himself that she might catch if the window was open, other times he'd sing a silvery classical melody that one wouldn't expect from a lamplighter. She didn't suppose many scholars would be on poor Leerie's payroll and yet she was positively charmed by the man in which she had never engaged in conversation.
Over the years of observation she'd grown quite in fond with him. He seemed, by all means, an eloquently charming gentlemen; perhaps not a scholar judging by career choice, but nonetheless an alluring character she couldn't seem not to enjoy.

He came tonight, in fact, on the night before Christmas with a gas lit lantern in hand, battling the cold with a scarf wrapped tightly around his neck and a plethora of jumpers underneath his jacket -although she could still tell he wasn't as round he looked because his long legs stretched his height to an alarming standard, to the point where he needn't use the top three steps of the ladder he carried in his other hand.

Snow was still gliding out the sky in gentle little flakes and settled on the ground and in his hair. She watched from the warmth of her own flat and wondered if Leerie had a family to go home to over the festivities. He couldn't have been any older or younger than herself and she still lived alone but she'd often cerebrate over what sort of a character Leerie might be.

She hadn't expected the perfect opportunity to find out to arise that eve. Her forehead was rested on the window pane when she noticed that there was a bundle on the snow stricken, cobbled street that had clearly been abandoned unintentionally by Leerie in his kerfuffle with the ladder he carried. It was a handkerchief, surely now laden and ruined with snow but she wouldn't allow him to assume he'd lost it and so -without so much as a jacket- she fled out onto the streets to fetch the little square of fabric, embellished with the letters JP in the corner.

Leerie was only a few feet away, his back to her and striding away to the other end of the street.

"Excuse me?!" She cried, hurrying after him and narrowly avoiding tripping over the snow hadn't it have been for the small pools of light that the freshly lit lamps offered.
"Leerie!"

The figure turned and for the first time she saw him up close. He was indeed of a similar age to her, his hair was dark and shaggy but his eyes were a bright and friendly hazel that seemed to gleam under the flame of the lantern he carried. He wore a pair of glasses that sat, slightly crooked, on the end of his nose which was blushed pink with the cold.

"You'd dropped your 'kerchief, Mister and I didn't think you'd noticed," she told him, now face to face with him and feeling a little sheepish.

"I hadn't noticed, no. Thank you sweetheart," he took the handkerchief off her and placed it back in his pocket, this time fastening the button.
"And I'm James by the way."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'm James. Common misconception: all lamplighters are not named Leerie at birth."

She laughed, melodically realising that her theory that he had a normal name -not associated with a profession- was quashed.
"You should have been a carriage driver. I'm Lily." She held out her hand.

"Lily." James repeated, as if he were trying out the name on his tongue, "it's a pleasure." When he smiled he revealed dimples that took years off her estimated age for him. His smile was infectious.

"And for me. You make a fine job of the street. I've always wondered how you manage to light up London with such haste."

"I could show you?" After a pause his hazel eyes went wide and he rushed to correct himself, "-only if you weren't opposed to the idea?"

This time she grinned, letting it illuminate her face in a flurry of dainty freckles and rosy cheeks.
"I'd be delighted, Mr James."

James offered her his arm, secretly charmed by her delightful smile and canorous tone of voice.
"Please don't call me Mister. I feel like I should be old to be a Mister."

Lily giggled and looped her arm through his, not quite noticing it was snowing and she hadn't lifted a coat of any sort, "and how old are you?"

"Nineteen, Miss Lily."

"So am I. So I shan't call you Mister, or Leerie for the duration of his outing."

"Splendid."

He guided her to the end of the street where he set his ladder to do the final lamp while she observed with fascination. And it was at this point that she reinforced how tall he was. He hopped down and observed her shivering before shrugging off his jacket without any thought.

She opened her mouth to protest but he assured her it was perfectly fine with a shake of the head and a comforting wink. It was much too large for her but it smelt of matches, and London, and something else marvellous that she knew she shouldn't forget in a hurry.

"Better?"

Lily nodded and his dimpled smile seemed to warm her up more that the coat. They continued on to the next unlit street and while they walked he noticed she was still shivering and so hastily put an arm round her and rubbed her side vigorously, attempting to give her any heat he could offer.
The new street was almost pitch black but James seemed to know exactly what he was doing and so Lily had to hold onto his hand to avoid being lost in the shadows.

"You don't need the light, do you?" She asked him once they'd made their way halfway along the street.

"Not at all. A Leerie knows where everything is like a vagabond child knows which floorboards creek in his house," he glanced down at her from the ladder with an elusive and outlandish stare. Lily didn't ever remember being looked at quite like that.

"Are you saying that you're a delinquent?"

"Only if your asking."

"And if I didn't ask?"

"Then I'd be a liar."

"And if I did?"

"Then I'd be a delinquent. Are you asking?"

She laughed as he jumped down to stand face to face with her, much too close for her to steady her breathing, and cocked his head to the side.

"I think I shall ask, yes."

"Then I'm a marauder. I solemnly swear that I am -nearly always- up to no good."

He scooped up his ladder and frolicked away, fancifully and in such a manner that only endeared her further. She'd spent longer than she'd care to admit wondering what sort of person Leerie might be, but she didn't think she'd have been able to imagine he'd be as splendid as this.

They came to a street nearer the city-centre (after passing a pitch black alleyway aided by James who might have been able to navigate these side streets blindfolded), the noise seemed to be louder and a few businesses already had lanterns out. The snow still hadn't yet stopped and now lay thicker on the ground
so Lily used the light of her companion's lantern to assure herself she wasn't going to make a wrong step.

The clock tower stood proudly above the cafes and bistros and by the time their penultimate street was illuminated they had grown to pleasurable conversation.
Lily had leant that James was nineteen, he'd come from a middle class family before his parents passed but had only ever wanted to be a Leerie. He'd watched his own lamplighters go by when he was a boy and so hadn't appreciated any other profession more.
James had learned that Lily's father was a banker and so she lived a decent childhood and homeschooling provided her with the qualifications to begin her training to be a nurse at the local hospital.

And yet, having only met each other today, their companionship had gone well beyond formalities. She had also learned that James loved chocolate, hated mint and had three best friends but he lived only with one whom he called Sirius. She'd also learned that James was a charming, electrifying and perhaps a little elusive character that she didn't want to be without ever again.
He had learnt that Lily adored strawberries, preferred plain biscuits to chocolate ones and lived with her best friend (Marlene was also to be a nurse once she'd finished training).
During their adventure he'd also discovered that Lily was vivacious, witty and celestially beautiful. The type that one only dreams about...

Their way back to Lily's home was much better lit than the journey away from it and yet she wished she might blow out all the flames in hopes he could go round lighting them all again in her company.

"I'll leave you here, sweetheart. Good night and Merry Christmas," he let go of her hand, feeling at a loss without it. He'd daydream of her hand in his...

"Merry Christmas to you too."

There are sometimes when a lady wishes she'd be kissed by a gentlemen but too timid to do it herself.
She stood there, within kissing distance to that knee-jerking smile and felt something she never had before..

There was snow in his hair, she noticed, and longed to reach up and pull it out; running her fingers through her his dark, messy curls.
She wished he would kiss her but he didn't.

"You'll be cold." He stated with an even tone of voice. He sounded a little strangled and his cheeks were pinched from cold (at least she assumed that's why he was blushing).
She was shivering too but that wasn't the point in the matter. What she wanted was to be kissed, but some gentlemen took their role as polite far too seriously.

So she reluctantly turned her back on the lamplighter, still with his jacket around her shoulders to keep the heat in.

As she walked awake the paused taking a deep breath and allowing the smell of the jacket to override her senses, or perhaps it was the Christmas cheer that clouded her better judgement but all of a sudden she turned back.

"James!"

His glasses had slipped to the end of his nose as he turned quickly and she reached up to fix them. They locked eyes and she was hit with a sudden force of a tonne of bricks, it was unlike any drug she'd ever heard of. His gaze was smouldering and light all at once, she felt dizzyingly intoxicated and marvellously uneasy. She pushed his rectangular glasses back up to their spot on his nose and in one swift movement she'd kissed him.

His lips were pleasantly warm against the paradox of the world around them that was slowly being buried in snow. Perhaps it was the close proximity to the gas lamps that did it but regardless she was grateful. She tingled from head to foot with the wonder of the boy that, an evening ago, she'd been too afraid to even say a word to.

She didn't want to part ways with his safe embrace but she did so reluctantly. When James managed to look at her clearly she was blushing a scarlet red that make him grin even brighter.

"You look utterly delectable when you're shy, you know?" He smirked, running his fingers ever so tenderly through her hair and enjoying the shade she went.

"I hadn't a clue."

"Well now you do."

"I do."

They stood in each other's arms for a moment longer, both wishing the snow might halt in the sky and morning wouldn't come so they could stay trapped in Christmas Eve for the rest of their days.
"May I inquire a question, miss Lily?"

Miss Lily nodded, pulling him closer to rest her head on his chest contentedly, "of course, Mr James."

"How long have you been watching me light the lamps?"

For a moment she said nothing, losing herself again in the safety of his eyes.
"Long enough to be half in love you after only ever meeting you once," Lily replied, looking timidly gorgeous.

"You're a delight, Miss Lily. A delight, and I wonder if I might be half in love with you too?" and so he kissed her again, just to make sure...

And now, whenever Learie comes round to light the lamps, if one looks close enough through the snow and the shadows they might see him tip his hat to the beautiful girl in the window, who smiles so radiantly that the heat might light the lamps themselves...

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This oneshot was inspired by the poem by Scottish poet Robert Louis Stevenson called Leerie the Lamplighter. Hope you liked it (: