Make a Wish
Author: Kali ( thirty2flavors)
Genre: Romance/humor, I suppose. I hate classifying things.
Disclaimer: It isn't mine. All Rowling's.
Summary: A fluffy little piece. James encourages Lily to wish for something, and she notices something she hadn't before.
Notes: This is the result of a little contest type thing I ran a little while ago for my Silly Love Songs readers. The winner wanted a cute little piece starring Lily and James during seventh year, before they go out. So...voila! Hope you enjoy it. It's a rather long one-shot, but it's a one-shot, I assure you.
Reviews are always nice.
Also, for those who might not know - carpe diem means 'seize the day'.
Always leave something to wish for; otherwise, you will be miserable in your very happiness.
James Potter was the biggest prat Lily Evans had ever met.
Without a doubt, he took the cake – no, scratch that, James would never settle for just taking the cake. Potter would take the entire bakery.
That was why she loathed him so much.
He led an undeniably good life – really, he did. His was good at Quidditch (waste of time though it was), he had friends (who were as stupid as he was), he was Head Boy (who on Earth thought that up?), he got good grades (how?) and he even had his own miniature fan-club-in-the-making (why?). It should have been plenty to satiate his appetite, it should have been more than enough to keep him happy, but it wasn't. Of course not. There was one minor defect in his already-perfect life and unless that defect was flattened out, James Potter would never rest.
Most agitating of all was that she, Lily Evans, was the defect.
Just because everyone else in the bloody school loved him didn't mean she had to. Just because he was good with words, good with a wand, good with a Quaffle and, okay, she admitted it, perhaps a little less than downright hideous sometimes, when he wasn't grinning like an idiot, which he always was… that did not mean she had to worship the ground he walked on like he obviously expected her to.
Perhaps the worst thing about James Potter, first and foremost, was that as of late he had been everywhere. As Head Boy to Lily's Head Girl, they were forced into working together. He was at the meetings with the prefects. He was one of only seven in her Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts class. He'd stopped hexing people for fun, finally, and while Lily was glad, that meant he spent a great deal more of his time around her…in the common room, by the Great Hall, on the grounds, and sometimes even, to her downright horror, the library.
Moreover, and perhaps most insidious of all, he was in her mind, constantly.
She wasn't sure whose cruel idea that was, but it was driving her mad. She couldn't place it. The boy had finally wormed himself so firmly under her skin that he came up all the bloody time. No matter what she'd be doing, he would pop to mind.
She'd be doing her homework. ("You've got to move your wrist sharper on the upswing, Evans, or it'll never transf—" "I don't need your help, Potter.")
She'd be doing her rounds. ("You know, Evans, no one would ever know if we just skived off and snogged in a broom closet." "I am not snogging you in a broom closet, Potter.")
She'd be washing her hair. ("Your hair smells like almonds, Evans." "Potter, you git, stop smelling my hair!" "I never liked almonds much.")
She'd be getting dressed! ("Nice robes, Evans. They—" "Would look better crumpled on your bedroom floor, I presume?" "Well, actually, I was going to say they bring out your eyes, but we can try yours if you like.")
She'd be writing home! ("You have a sister? I haven't got any siblings, unless you count Sirius – he lives with us, you see – but I suppose he's really more like a dog than a brother." "Prongs, you're an idiot." "Well, it's true. He's not even house-trained.")
Anything she did, somehow, he would spring to mind and she'd be completely thrown off target. It was obnoxious. She wasn't sure how he did it, but it made her want to grab him 'round his scrawny little neck and squeeze as hard as she possibly could until maybe then that damned smirk would finally vanish.
By far the worst thing about James Potter, however, was that he was walking towards her.
"Save it, Potter."
"What? Can I not wish a good morning to my favorite Head Girl?" He fell into step beside her, and she rolled her eyes.
"You didn't say good, you only said morning. Besides that, I'm the only Head Girl."
"You're still my favorite."
"I've no doubt about that, Potter."
"There's a Hogsmeade weekend coming up soon."
"It is. Would you—"
"I didn't even—"
The silence lasted long enough that Lily thought, maybe, he'd actually left and she hadn't noticed. James rarely stood next to her silent for very long. Turning her head to the side, she was saddened to discover this wasn't the case – rather, he was staring at her intently, head tilted to the side.
"What?" she said impatiently, halting mid-step.
James doubled back to stand in front of her. He reached a hand forward and she pulled back instinctively, unsure of what he was doing. His hand was faster and his finger touched her cheek – and then it was lifted. Just like that.
"You had an eyelash on your cheek," he noted, holding the tiny lash up to her for inspection.
She sighed, rolling her eyes.
"Wouldn't want to get it in your eye, now. Terrible irritant, that is. Used to happen to me all the time when I was a kid, since I was so dashingly handsome—"
"-that my eyelashes got in my eye all the time. Hurt like a bugger, too. My mum used to try and pull them out with Q-tips. Now there's a funny word – Q-tip. Why are they called Q-tips? Have you ever wondered that? I mean, if you look at them, they don't really have Q-shaped tips, do they?"
A disbelieving stare on her face, she shook her head. "Are you aware that you're babbling, Potter?"
James nodded, one hand shoved in his pocket and the other still outstretched with the eyelash between his fingers. "You'll have to forgive me. It's a curse I've been afflicted with. I babble in the presence of beautiful women."
Lily frowned. "I'll be sure to let you know if I see any, then."
The lopsided grin she'd grown so used to spread across his lips and he shook his unruly head of hair. "You don't give yourself enough credit, Evans, you know that?" he said.
"Oh," she said loftily, sending him a coy look, "well, that's alright. I can make up for people like you who give themselves too much credit."
"Are you always this witty or I am especially lucky today?"
"Oh, I'm always this witty."
"It was a rhetorical question, actually. And I beg to differ."
"You dare insult my intelligence?"
She arched an eyebrow, placing a hand on her hip. "Are you always this daring or am I especially lucky today?"
"You're especially lucky," he replied seriously. "When I woke up this morning I said to myself, 'James, my boy, today you are going to live as though it is the last day of your life. You will do things you never dreamed possible, you will abandon all propriety and fear and you will carpe the diem.'"
"Carpe the diem?" Lily repeated, amused.
"Yes. It's Latin for 'be really badass'."
"Oh, I see."
"Why, just this morning I was doing a crossword in pen."
In spite of herself, Lily laughed. "How Gryffindor of you," she remarked sarcastically. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have things to do." With that, she swept around him and continued down the hall.
"Evans!" he called after. "Wait!"
With a bit of a growl under her breath, Lily glanced over her shoulder. "What do you want, Potter?"
The grin on his face was purely childish, and despite how much it aggravated her – despite how much she wished she had a mature Head Boy to work with – as she glanced back at him, in that second, she hoped he never lost that grin.
He should stay eternally young. Like Peter Pan.
Somehow, she didn't think the world was going to cooperate.
"You haven't made a wish yet," he informed her through the boyish grin, eyes alight behind his glasses.
"A wish," she repeated, turning to stare at him.
"A wish indeed. That's how it works. You lose an eyelash, you're granted a wish."
"That sounds very scientific."
"Oh, it is, it is. Pure fact."
Between the two of them, silence settled, and for a moment, they were both staring only down at the eyelash on the tip of James' finger.
It was then Lily became rather suddenly aware that she had walked towards him.
"Well? Are you going to make a wish?" he prompted, staring at the top of her head.
Her gaze lifted to meet his. "No. I'd feel silly."
"Silly?" he repeated, before scoffing. "Silly! You, Lily Evans? Silly? Why, Miss Evans, you are so far from silly that you are, in fact, quite serious... Although you are not, in fact, Sirius."
"If you ever make that pun again I will hit you."
"Please do. That was absolutely dreadful, I apologize."
"I suppose I can let it slide."
"Thank you. Now make a wish."
"I can do nothing of the sort."
James rolled his eyes and shifted so they were shoulder to shoulder, peering down at the tiny thing he held in front of them. "Yes you can. It really isn't very difficult."
Lily sighed. "I have things to do, Potter. I cannot debate this with you all day."
"Then make a wish and I will leave you well enough alone. To leave an eyelash unwished is almost blasphemous."
"Yes. It's practically the 8th deadly sin."
Lily shook her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. After a moment's consideration, she looked at him again. "No, Potter, this is stupid."
"Stupid! Stupid?" His tone seemed to imply complete offense. "Why, Evans, that is by far the most harrowing thing you have ever said to me. Stupid!"
"Yes. Stupid, Potter, now move so I can—"
"How about we both make a wish?"
She stared at him for a minute or two. How much fun was he having with this? "Pardon?" she asked.
"We'll both make a wish," he repeated. "That way, you won't feel silly."
"Oh, I assure you, Potter, it will make me feel sillier."
"So? You ought to feel silly once in a while. On the count of three—"
"No, Potter, I—"
"Really, I should be doing my homew-"
"You aren't actually—"
She didn't know what possessed her to lean forward, close her eyes, make a wish and blow the eyelash from the tip of James' finger. She could not figure it out for the life of her.
Something did, though.
When she opened her eyes a second later, she saw James' face was rather close to hers, his mouth curled into a smile, his eyes lingering shut. She wondered why; momentarily, she thought she understood. She could see a five-year-old with black, unruly hair perched cheerfully atop a woman's lap, leaning forward eagerly to blow an eyelash from the tip of his mother's finger and hope for the newest Nimbus… and she could see a seventeen year old with black, unruly hair, savoring a short-lived moment of nostalgia.
James' eyes opened a split second later and he looked at her, but to Lily's surprise, the image of the four-year-old wasn't shattered.
Maybe he never would lose the boyish grin.
"What did you wish for?" she asked before she knew why, straightening up slowly and in time with the boy next to her.
His reply was prompt and sure.
"A world without Death Eaters or dark magic or Voldemort, a world where, in five or ten years, children – maybe my children – will be able to play outside at night, a world where parents won't have to make arrangements for their children in the event they're murdered, a world where people will be hired because of skill and not because of background, and a world without petty prejudices tearing at the seams of society."
She gaped at him, for a moment, eyebrows lifting up and jaw slackening a bit. "Really?"
The grin was back. "No, I'm afraid not; I wished for something far less noble."
She felt a slight pang of disappointment. "And to think I believed you."
"Besides," he continued, "What's the sense in wishing for all that?"
That question in itself seemed absurd. "What's the point?" Lily repeated. "Potter, if that were to come true, the world would be so much –"
"Better, yes," he interrupted, "but in the end fighting for those changes is what I'm looking forward to the most. Fighting for those changes is what makes getting them so valuable."
Lily shook her head slowly, a look of complete astonishment crossing her features.
His grin dimmed a bit and he eyed her. "What?" said James. "Are you honestly that surprised I said something intelligent?"
Lily shook her head. "Yes, but aside from that, it's just…"
She trailed off.
"Just what?" he prompted.
"It's just that I think my wish came true." Smiling deviously, now, she walked past him.
James' eyebrows perked up in interest and he grinned rather widely. "Oh yeah?" he called after her. "And what was that?"
She spun on her heel, hands in her pocket, grinning wickedly.
"I can't tell you," she called back, "It might ruin it."
Lily spun around again, continuing down the hall, away from him.
I wish James Potter was not the biggest prat I've ever met.
I wish Lily Evans didn't think I was the biggest prat she'd ever met.
Incidentally, they both got their wish.