Summary: You know the drill. Lily/James, Pg-13ish, one-shot. Once more, similar to Ten Things Girls Want Guys to Do, To Every Guy, and… Wait, is there another? I was working on Ten Things Guys Want Girls to Do, but I never finished. Oh, I Shall. There be it. Yes. Also, the time sequence is out of order, just FYI.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I don't not own this font. I do not own these settings. I do not own you either. Incidentally, I do not own this list of things women should have.

It got sent to me by OhioSucks via a review. I have never been so enamored of one of my readers (except for perhaps Amanda, who has truly become my twin in a slightly parallel universe). I am honored that you thought of me—if even for your own gains (another story). Lol. You were right: I love it and WILL write something on it. Thanks for being the inspiration when there wasn't any.

A Woman Should Have…

By Natali K. A.

A woman should have...

A set of screwdrivers,

a cordless drill, and

A black lace bra.

"Twit, twit, twit!" Lily Evans muttered as she rummaged around her room. She threw her favorite bra—black lace, in case you were wondering—over her shoulder.

"My dear Lily, I know you want me. You needn't throw lingerie at my head… unless you want to," said a smug voice from the door.

"Get bent, Potter," she growled. "Why the bloody hell are you up here? I thought I told you I'd turn you in to the Headmaster if you came up here again?"

"I have some information that might interest you," he said.

"I highly doubt that," she snarled. "I lost my wand. And I need a flathead screwdriver to unlock the bathroom door which Annabelle locked because she's an absolute ninny—"

"Evans, how did you manage to become Head Girl? It's beyond me. Accio Lily's wand!" She heard the wood whiz through the air after appearing from under her bed.

"But I just checked there!" she whined, unwilling to thank Potter for helping her. He'd want something in return. "May I have my wand?"

"Touchy, touchy. Incidentally, Annabelle finally realized that it wasn't that the door was locked, but that it was jammed. The bathroom door does not require fixing, love."

"And they sent you because…?" she hissed, seething. How dare he waltz in here commandeering her wand to and fro as she searched wildly for it to no avail? The bloody nerve! Dirty wanker.

He smiled. "They didn't. I invited myself, because I remember you going off muttering about screwdrivers. They weren't going to send anyone, actually. Go figure, Evans. I'm actually quite nice at times."

"When it suits you," she argued. "What is it that you want?"

"Besides you?"

"Obviously a good kick in the bollocks!"

"Down, O Fiery One. I'll leave. No, I didn't need anything." He opened the door to exit. "I just did something nice, without any expectations of receiving something in return. I do that, you know. I'm not always a selfish blockhead." He gave her a cursory glance. "S'more than I can say about you."

Her eyes opened wide in shock and anger as he closed the door after him. She grabbed the object nearest to her—a clock—and threw it at the door.

A woman should have...

One friend who always makes her laugh

And one who lets her cry.

"I can't take this," Lily muttered, ripping out her hair. "I can't do this anymore. I need this year to be over." She felt her eyes begin to water. "I simply can't believe that I lost that essay. I'll never rewrite it in time."

Not for the first time that month, Lily felt absolutely helpless. She was cramming for N.E.W.T. exams, trying to stay on top of her Head Girl duties, all while maintaining a part time job in Hogsmeade to help out her folks. It was too much. Now, on top of everything else, she had lost the essay due tomorrow for Transfiguration on the principles of changing water into wine and why it was outlawed in 1458 by a stupid wizard named Gangee the Great.

The first sob was rather quiet, without much passion infused into it. As they kept coming, however, they became much more enthusiastic.

It was in this vulnerable position that the Marauders found her after returning from one of their night time jaunts about the land. Sirius, Remus, and Peter looked at him, alarm on each of their faces. James waved them on. He'd stay and see what was wrong.

At first, he couldn't believe that the great and mighty Lily Evans was crying. Once that shocking thought set in though, he took initiative. He was no insensitive clod.

"Are you alright?" He almost regretted saying the words when her sobbing increased in volume. Perhaps he should have left her alone in her grief.

"No. I'm not. So just move away from me, Potter. I'm not in the mood for your games," she said viciously.

"I… I don't plan on being mean, Evans. Even I—lowly and horrid James Potter—could never be so cruel. I was just concerned."

"Just go away," she pleaded. "Please."

He didn't obey her, but instead moved to sit next to her on the couch where she had collapsed. "You're tired, huh?"

Nodding, she cried harder. "Yes. I am so tired. I don't think I can go another step. And now I've lost my paper and it's due tomorrow. That's half of our grade! What am I going to do?" She buried her head in her hands, shoulders shaking violently.

"You tried summoning it?"

"Yes! To no avail."

"Do you think you're simply too exhausted to summon it?"

"No. It's not here anymore. I don't know where it went. I had to leave to take care of a squabble between two idiotic Third Years and when I returned… It was gone."

He had never heard anyone sound so miserable and so lost. Knowingly breaking the rules of man versus archenemy, he hugged her.

"Come on, we'll find it. Finish crying and use my shirt to dry yourself. It has to be here. No one hates you. I can't think of a single person who would sabotage your grade."

"You would. You should. I'm awful to you."

"Well, I'm pretty awful to you as well," he chortled. "I'd never do that. Not for something this important."

"I know," she whispered. "But you should."

He sighed. "Never mind. Do you want something to drink? Cool water for your face?"

"I just want to sleep," she cried, although she'd calmed down now. "And the thought of having to climb those steps… I just want to fall asleep for weeks. I want this pain to stop. All this pressure. I have to be so many different things to so many different people. And I just can't anymore. I'm burnt out."

He considered that for a minute. "Well, I can't ease all your burdens. But I can take care of one." He stood up and took her into his strong arms.

"What are you doing?"

"Just relax. I'll take you to your room—without a single attempt to hit on you either."

She nodded, resting her head against his chest. She could hear his heart beating. Needless to say, his strength impressed her. Lily weighed a good 125 pounds.

Soothed by the rhythmic heartbeats, she paid no attention to the way in which he managed up the girls' stairs—something that had always intrigued her. All she knew is that she woke up the next morning in her bed with her essay on her night table, accompanied by a note saying that one of her friends had taken it for safekeeping.

She was flooded with relief and a certain tenderness for the young man who could've taken advantage of her, but had instead been the biggest blessing she could have expected at that dark hour.

A woman should have...

Eight matching plates, wine glasses with stems,

And a recipe for a meal that will

Make her guests feel honored.

James found Lily in the drawing room crying the day after they returned from their honeymoon. In her hands was one of an eight-piece wineglass set. She looked utterly pathetic.

"Are you alright?" he asked from the doorway.

She began to sob harder. "We have matching plates and matching glasses. For eight!"

He stuck his hands in his pockets. "Is this one of those funky moodswings you mentioned the morning after we first had sex?"

She shook her head, wiping her nose on her sleeve. She wasn't a pretty crier. Her face was blotchy, her eyes were swollen, and her nose was running. Tres sexy.

"My mum. She never had a matching dinner set. She always wanted one, but I never got the chance to… to buy one for her." She began to sob in earnest now.

Alarmed, James crossed the eight paces to sit next to her. She immediately threw herself onto him, crying uncontrollably onto his shoulder.

"Lils, my love… It's alright."

"A dinner set! That's all she ever wanted for Christmas, and Daddy couldn't buy for her, and it broke his heart."

At a loss, James said the only thing that came to him.

"Well, now you can make them proud. Their daughter Lily married an obscenely wealthy, disgustingly attractive wizard, is unbelievingly beautiful and wonderful, and happens to own a matching dinner set for eight people. What's best about this is that Lily Potter knows eight people to invite for dinner so that Lily Potter can show how much she loves them. Best of all, Lily Potter—who abhors cooking—has her very own chef to cook for her!"

"Lily Potter is loved," she said simply.

"Yes." He kissed her nose. "Lily Potter is most definitely loved."

"I'm a blubbering mess," she said with half a chuckle. "I feel I look atrocious."

"Rubbish. You look adorable with a red runny nose, dear. Very charming. It'll be all the rage in Hogsmeade come fall, you watch."

She met his eyes. "Lily Potter loves James Potter more than anything else in the world."

His arms tightened slightly around her. "James Potter feels the same about Lily Potter. James Potter also feels that the Potters should cease speaking in third person."

"Lily Potter agrees."

A woman should have…

A man who will rescue her

Even when she doesn't need it.

Clack. Clack.

Lily glanced up from her book. What was that sound?


She got up from her bed and went to the window. Pushing aside the curtains, she saw the cause of the noise.

James Potter was in her backyard, throwing pebbles at the windows that her father had just replaced. Hurriedly, she opened the window.

"James? What are you doing?"

"I'm rescuing you." His smile warmed her to her toes. "Come with me."

Lily shook her head. "Are you mad? My parents told me I couldn't go."

"So? They'll never know, Lily. Come with me. We'll have fun, and I'll have you back before they know it. This is your day, too. You're a part of our class. Come and celebrate our graduation."

It was tempting. But she wasn't so sure she wanted to piss of her father so soon after their last argument. "James, my father isn't a patient man."

"Neither am I."

"He'll kick me out."

"You're an adult, Lily. You can find your own place to stay if he does. Come on, Lils. Celebrate with us."

She sighed, a million thoughts running through her head. All her life she had been obedient and done what her father had asked. How many things had she missed out on because of his strictness? She knew that he just wanted to protect her, but maybe it was time for her to learn to protect herself.

"Fine. I'll go. You'd better hope we don't get caught." She apparated down beside him. "Or I'll kick your arse to Greece and back."

He chuckled, extending his arm to her. "Shall we, my dear?"


That party would be the official beginning of a very special relationship.

Every woman should know…

How to fall in love

Without losing herself.

The morning following the graduation, Lily sighed as she looked out past the lawn. "Are you ever afraid of just letting yourself go?"

James turned to look at her. "Sorry?"

"Just… Do you ever hesitate about giving it your all?"

He turned over the idea in his head, swishing around the whiskey in his glass. "Yes."

"Have you ever not gone head first for fear of getting hurt?"

"Could you be a bit clearer?" he asked, scratching his chin. "I mean, I don't whether you mean hypothetically, literally, or something completely serious."

She didn't look at him. "Whenever you do something, James, you do it with your all. It's never half-hearted. Even when you don't do something, you don't do it with gusto. I just wonder if you've ever hesitated."

"Always," he replied instantaneously.

"Really? But you seem so sure."

He looked at the woman who had spent the night with him. If she seemed at all uncomfortable at being in his home, in his robe, on his balcony overlooking his lands, she didn't show it. She hid feelings well—too well.

"Lily," he began slowly, "don't you figure that because you're hesitating, it might actually be worthwhile?" He paused as he let that sink in. "If your mind automatically gives you the go-ahead, isn't there something wrong? As human beings, don't we naturally err, err, and err some more?"

"But hesitation is good?"

"Undoubtedly. Or at least in my opinion. Hesitation doesn't mean you should do it—it means you should think. That's something that I think many people forget to do, don't you? We were given a mind for a reason. Now we should employ it. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

Lily sat silently for a good two minutes. He decided to let her get lost in her thoughts for awhile.

"Last night," she said suddenly. "Did you hesitate last night?"

His dark brows lifted and he took a sip of his drink. "No."

"Then isn't that a bad thing?"

"Besides the fact I do not believe I was capable of any form of thinking when the moment arrived, I had made up my mind a long, long time ago. Yes, I hesitated. Just not last night."

She toed the ground in order to make her chair rock. He smiled as he remembered the way his own mother would rock herself like that, holding him in her arms… He loved that chair. He loved this entire house. He loved her in this house.

"You didn't hesitate? Is that what bothers you?" he asked softly. "Do you regret it now?"

"Looking back, I think the decision was made for me when you ended your own hesitation. I've been yours for ages, James. I just think that now it's official."

He smiled hungrily at her. "While I love that idea, you're mistaken. You had—and still have—every right to deny me."

"I don't want to." She finally turned her head to look at him. "I think you fit."

James couldn't resist chuckling. "Well, we sure did fit last night. If heaven's half as good as that, then I'm dandy."

"What you are, you twit, is randy." But she said this with a tender smile. "However did you manage it?"

"Manage what?" he asked confusedly.

"To make me fall in love with you without ever once taking me out. As anything other than friends, anyway."

"I didn't do anything, Lily. I think you were already like that."

She sighed. "I'm not easy to live with. I'm an awful bitch in the mornings. In fact, I'm an awful bitch pretty much 'round the clock. I have horrific moodswings, I don't like onions, and I can't stand a dirty house. I'm impossible."

"Good. You won't bore me to death. You might even last awhile."

"I hate cooking."

"I love it. I'll cook, then. Or we'll go out for dinner. Whatever. We have, essentially, the world at our very fingertips, my love."

She lowered her eyes. "I don't want the world just yet. Your bed will do."

"Got it. World later, bed now." Laughing, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her inside, ready to make amazingly hot, passionate love to her. "What will you tell your father?"

"That I've found some place else to live."

Every woman should know…

When to try harder and

When to walk away.

"Is that it, Lily? We have one bloody argument and you're ready to throw this sodding marriage away?" James yelled.

She didn't pause in her packing. She was throwing the bare essentials into a bag—however, the bare essentials for a woman are quite numerous.

"Leave me alone, James. Alright? Just leave me alone! You should've walked straight past me that night in the common room when you saw me crying! Why didn't you? Why did you suddenly have to become good and noble and caring?"

"Oh, you're right. This is all my fault. I'm the one who's an insufferable bitch every moment of every day over the stupidest things! I'm the one who's going about flirting with every prat on the block. Apparently you don't care about the rumors, eh?"

She gasped. "How dare you? You think I never knew about that little thing you had with your maid? You think I never knew? Ha!" She threw a pillow at him. "That's rich."

He blinked. "We weren't dating."

"You faggot—we were anything but. We ate together, studied together, hung out together, went to Hogsmeade together—what else is that but a relationship? I can name over fifteen different times that you nearly kissed me. If you think that doesn't count, James, then I have a few rude words for you."

"You always have rude words for me," he muttered. "Here, let me help you pack." He picked up the book she'd been reading and threw it into her bag. "In fact, let me help you destroy and completely abandon our marriage!" With a violence she had never seen, he picked up a photo of them right before their wedding and chucked it at the wall. The glass shattered into thousands of pieces.

Her gasp was small but significant. The only sounds in the room was his heavy, ragged breathing and the whir of the television from the living room.

Furiously he added, "And let's add this to the mess, shall we?" Quickly removing his wedding ring, he tossed that to the other side of the room. "Get out of my house."

Her swallow was audible. "James."

"Get out of my effing house, Lily. Out."

"James… I…"

"What? This isn't what you wanted?" he roared. "Didn't you just ask me for a divorce, Lily? Over a stupid mistake? I'm sorry I forgot our dinner was tonight. But if that's all that it takes, perhaps you were looking for a reason to break it off." He ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up on end. "Go. A man needs to cry alone."

"I'm pregnant." She paused, watching for his reaction. There was no difference in his countenance. "If you still want me to go, I will. I just… wanted you to know." When he didn't move, Lily felt her heart break into a billion pieces. But she held herself together. She strode to her luggage and finished packing the last of her clothing. She had zipped it up and put it on the floor before James spoke.

"What are you doing?" came his soft voice from behind her. "I don't want you to go, and you know it."

"You didn't say anything."

"It's a lot to take in during the space of a half hour, Lils. First divorce then you're pregnant. I can't recover that quickly."

She refused to meet his eyes. "Maybe it's better that I leave anyway, just for a few days."

James inhaled deeply. "You know as well as I do that if you leave, you will never come back." He touched her arm. "How long have you known?"

"I suspected about a week and a half ago. I verified yesterday. I'm six weeks along."



"A July baby."

She nodded, looking to the ground. She realized that she had been about to leave barefoot. This caused her to chuckle, even though humor was the last thing she felt.

Lily saw his feet leave her line of vision and heard him pick up the pieces of the picture he'd thrown. There had been a huge dent in the wall. They'd have to fix that…

"Oh, man," he groaned. "I'm sorry, Lils." She looked at him and saw that he was shaking his head, hands covering his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Me too." A shaky breath was released. "I shouldn't have said I wanted a divorce. I didn't mean it. I didn't even plan on leaving. It just… escalated. I don't know. It happened so fast."

He didn't reply or move. She walked to stand next to him.

"I didn't mean it," she whispered, placing her hand on his shoulder delicately. "I'm sorry. My temper gets the best of me sometimes. You know that."

When he removed his hands from his eyes, she saw that he was trembling. She noticed that she was too.

"I need a drink," he said gruffly, walking over to the decanter of whiskey he kept in their room. "Do you care for s—Oh, bloody fuck. Never mind."

She smiled weakly. "Yeah, I can't."

He downed the glass all at once. Refilling it, he sat down in one of the armchairs by the French doors. He turned to her and patted his thigh. "Come?"

Acquiescing, she sat on his lap.

"I didn't mean any of it, either. I would never have signed the divorce papers. I—I… There aren't any words for it."

She nodded and proceeded to lean her cheek against him, letting the warmth of her body calm her raging nerves.

"Love you," he murmured, kissing her hair. Her responding "Love you, too" pleased him immensely. James and Lily Potter would not file for divorce that day or any other.

Every woman should know…

That she can't change the length of her calves,

Or the width of her hips.

"I'm fat," Lily whined, looking at her reflection in the mirror, clad in just her bra and underwear.

"Shut up," James said automatically. "That's rubbish."

"It's true. Did you see Mira the other day? She looks wonderful. The woman's got to be the most beautiful woman ever to walk this earth."

"That's you, Lils. Not Mira."

She humphed. "At one point you didn't think so."

He raised his eyebrows. "I didn't think you remembered that I dated her."

"How couldn't I? Our entire school was talking about it. A Fourth Year dating a Seventh Year. Sleeping with her, too."

"I wasn't your average Fourth Year," he chuckled, then sobered. "I don't know why women compare their beauty to that of someone else. There's no one out there like you, Lils."

She pouted at her reflection. "I'm fat. And my bloody hips make it well near impossible to buy anything that fits right."

"I love your hips."

"You have to say that!"

"No, I don't. I say it because I mean it—I love your hips. And so what if you've got more than a five percent body fat? You keep me warm at night with all your blubber."

Her eyes narrowed. "I am not amused, James."

He threw aside the paper he'd been reading and walked over to join her by the full length mirror. "You're not fat, sweetheart." He bent to kiss her shoulders, sliding a finger under the band of her knickers. "And if you are, you are fat in all the right places. Your hips are divine, dear, and I would never wish them any narrower. You have beautiful hands, beautiful feet, beautiful lips, beautiful everything. You're perfect."

"You're charming," she smiled, turning in his arms. "You know, I think you're more beautiful than I am."

He wrinkled his nose. "Men aren't beautiful, they're handsome."

"Nope," she giggled, "you're just plain beautiful."

"Next you're going to tell me I have lovely eyes."

"But you do!"

"Lily," he whined. "No, I'm rugged, handsome, and devilishly good-looking. You are soft, beautiful, and graceful. So there."

"So there?"

"Yes. So there."

Every woman should know…

What she would and wouldn't

Do for love or more.


She grunted.

"Lils, I need to ask you something."

"What?" she mumbled, still half asleep.

"Would you run away with me? If things get bad?"

She cracked open an eye. "James, what the bloody hell are you on about? If which things get bad?"

"I just need an answer. Would you come with me?"

She sat up on her elbows, seeing the concern in his eyes. "Are you in trouble?"

"No. Not yet, I don't think. We might be able to avoid it altogether."

"Avoid what?"



"Would you go with me?"

"Go with you where? What's the matter, James?"

"Lily Potter," he said sternly, his voice shaking, "would you come with me if we had to run away?"

She was close to tears for a reason she didn't even know. "Yes."

"That's all I needed to know."

"Of course I would. You don't even have to ask." She reached out to smooth back his hair and found that he was in a cold sweat. "You're scaring me. Why won't you tell me what's wrong? I could help."

He wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her luscious red hair. "My sweetheart, there is nothing you can do to help. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. We're safe for now, and I'd rather not tell you any information which could harm you."

Lily wanted to know desperately what he meant, but she knew it was futile. "Alright. I trust you."

"I'll take care of you. I promise. I will die before I let anyone touch you."

"Does it have to come to that?" she whispered, a tear slipping out.

He didn't answer.

Every woman should know…

Where to go

When her soul needs soothing.

"Lily, you know you're my world, right?" James whispered into her ear as they lay in their backyard under the starry sky.

Still languid from his love, she replied with a grunt.

"I'll always be here for you, sweetheart."

"I know," she smiled, cuddling closer. "And I'd never let you forget it."

A/N: I haven't written in ages. What I wrote last time wasn't so hot. I understand. But I simply don't have the UMPH to finish my other stories. So… Sorry. I write this at 4:39 AM, after a definitely depressing morning. I'll never look at a wheelbarrow the same.

On the bright side, my tears mean a wonderful—or at least better than the last piece of crap I spewed from my fingers—story. I hope. Enjoy. And if you hate it, you should by no means feel guilty that I slaved over this after crying my little heart out and fighting with my best friend, on top of everything else. Hee hee. GUILT FACTOR!! Now you should feel compelled to review. Just kidding, just kidding. I joke with you! (This is what two cups of coffee at 5:30 in the morning do to me.)

Who didn't miss my insomniac stories??

And now I'm sick again. Dandy.

By the way, OhioSucks, you may have noticed that I removed quite a few of them. I ran out of energy after 15 pages on Word, lol. But thanks anyway!

Love you all,