A/N: I've owed this fic to my friend KN for just about forever. It's a really belated birthday gift—she chose the prompt "Secret" out of my 100 situations table. Sweet. So I guess I'll do anything to get out of studying for my finals tomorrow :-S. Hope you enjoy this. It's…a plot bunny that has been in my mind since basically September so yeah. Long overdue. If anyone asks, guys, I'm studying for English via practice. Screw the Socratic method.
There were a lot of things that Lily liked about the Muggle culture. But the class, Muggle Studies, made her like it so much less. She thought that it was going to be an interesting class. She thought that she was going to see the world from a new perspective. She thought that she was going to be enlightened. She thought that she'd look upon the Muggle world fondly with Rose-colored and wizard-enhanced glasses due to her newly gained knowledge. It would be like she was a well-informed hippie or guru. Except much more respectable.
But as she sat there, looking dully upon the object that the professor held up—a telephone—and watched him describe it as a plug and wonder dumbfounded as to why it wouldn't run electrical items that were placed on the receiver, she felt bored to tears. She was not the guru or well-informed hippie. She was a girl that knew way more about this subject than her wizarding teacher ever did.
"Ah I see what the problem is! The pages were stuck together! Here we are now, class, a telephone is this wonderful little object invented by Alexander Grahm Bell and what you do is you speak into this little end here—" the professor pointed to the ear-piece "and you listen to what your other person is saying here—" he tried to demonstrate but it ended up like a twisted display of him trying to hang himself with the cord. A girl in the front row, Kaitlyn, had to come and untangle him. He was turning purple.
This would have been slightly comical had Lily not been bored as hell.
She felt her eyelids closing. Sleep was overcoming her. Powerful thing, that sleep. Do not succumb, Lily. Slackers sleep. She looked around the room at a very unattractive Sirius Black, who's head was down and mouth blatantly opened, allowing pools of drool to soak up the parchment that he was using for a pillow. Sirius Black sleeps. This should have been reason enough to keep her awake. Peter Pettigrew sat next to him drawing obscene things and Sirius slept on, his nose twitching every now and then as he let out a great snore.
She blinked the forbidden sleep away and stared forward, determined not to let sleep overwhelm her. She watched Kaitlyn untangle the frantic professor. That should have been interesting. No. No not really.
And then she heard the tones of one, James Potter, ring through the room, breaking any form and desire for sleep. James' voice, she discovered, does that. And she wasn't sure that effect was a good thing. She shook it off.
For a while, James Potter had been having weird effects on her. She shouldn't be having them. Sort of like she shouldn't want to sleep during this class. She was Lily Evans. She didn't want to sleep through classes.
She didn't want to kiss James Potter.
…Who said that?
She looked behind her and noticed the casual seating he had—the front two legs of his chair were off the ground as he leaned back in leisure. His hair looked windswept as always and his tie was loosened, his sleeves rolled up exposing his forearms. He looked like a model. Or a poster boy for just what a private school boy should not act like.
Lily's stomach lurched involuntarily. Stop that. You're Lily Evans's stomach. You should not lurch.
He yawned exaggeratedly and then glanced back up at the professor. "So what about that Muggle game?"
The professor stopped from tangling himself up in the cord and answered at an awkward position—slightly bent over and with the cord wrapped around his nose, ear and chin (how did he manage that?). "What Muggle game, Mr. Potter?"
"Y'know the one," James allowed the two front legs to land on the ground with a satisfying thump. "Where the kids all sit around in the circle and whisper gossip in each other's ears until it's all screwed up?"
"Yes, well, that's a differen't kind of fellytone. Now this one…"
"I like the other one better."
She had gotten the note at breakfast that morning. It had been sent out to everyone in their Muggle Studies class.
Gryffindor Common Room.
Starts at 10.
-Mssr. James Potter
Messer James Potter. Did he really have to sign off on a note like that?
Lily traced her hand over the curvy and slightly girly writing that Sirius always makes fun of him for.
Stop it. You are Lily Evans's hand. You do not want to trace James' writing.
Of coursethere was alcohol. Did she really expect there not to be? Well, the stuff in the cup that Sirius offered to her was "butterbeer" but he said it with a slur. James was standing next to him and laughed, taking the cup from drunken Sirius' hand.
"It's really alright, Lily. If you stop after four cups, that is." He offered it up to her and she looked down hesitantly.
Stop it. You are Lily Evans's urges. You do not want to take that cup.
She was wasted before the she was through with her second cup. Or as she called it "blissfully buzzed".
"Get in the circle!"
"You can sit next to me!"
"I wanna sit next to Marlene."
"Ow no shoving."
"OI! YOU LOT! SHUT UP!" James' voice was heard over it all. It made her ears tingle. Stop it…ear-tingle forces? She was too far gone to scold herself.
Ear-tingle forces. Good.
What's a fellytone?
"It's a boy's private part," Kaitlyn slurred next to her. Oh she said that out loud.
"Nu. That's a penis," Marlene McKinnon corrected knowledgably. Dorcas Meadows giggled and nudged Emmeline Vance.
"You would know."
"PENIS!" Lily shouted and twirled around, falling down with a giggle. She felt like she would be shouting a lot. It was like drunken Turettes. She took her place in the circle that they had formed between Emmeline and James.
She briefly heard him explain the rules. James would start the game but Sirius was second and he would probably turn it into something extremely obscene—"PENIS!" Lily shouted again at the thought—and the game would really have no use but it was always funny to see what would happen.
The first few rounds were ridiculous and mostly offensive about James. Lily had no problem shouting them out at the end. "James Potter rapes hippogriffs." "James Potter's messy black hair is really the pubic hair of a niffler made into a wig." "James Potter and Sirius Black are gay together."
There were many objections—Remus came up with the last one obviously and was hit in the back of the head as a result.
"You're not getting to play in the next game," James told Sirius sternly. Sirius pouted.
"I have drunk fourteen glasses of this crap and you're really going to send me into a corner? Failure on your part, James. Epic. Failure."
"You mess it all up. You don't get to play."
Remus laughed from the corner. "And you!" James rounded on him. "You neither. You and Sirius can go off in a corner. Have a baby for all I care—"
"Not physically possible. Nor would I want to. Could you imagine him as a father?"
"I HAVE SPOKEN!"
"Alright, alright," Remus said bowing out of the round, taking an upset Sirius with him to the refreshment table (which was really just a table with the punch bowl and a bag of chips. They were classy, those Gryffindors).
The next few rounds continued without much of a contortion to the original phrase. It was almost always incoherent. James took a swig of a glass that had been at Sirius' empty place before continuing. He glanced over to his right, where a absolutely wasted Lily Evans sat.
"You've got hair in your eyes."
"Do I?" Lily went cross-eyed to view the offending hair and swatted at it a few times like a cat but to no avail. She pouted. "James get it for me?"
James—being the only one slightly sober—blushed at the thought of it. "I think you got it…"
"No but I really don't." Lily took his hand in her own and placed it on her cheek—he guessed that she was aiming for forehead placement but missed, but then he was perfectly fine with how it turned out. "Get it for me?" she asked again.
He nervously took his hand and brushed the strands from her piercing eyes. She smiled brilliantly at him and he thanked god for alcohol because he knew that she wouldn't let him do that if she was sober.
But then, he didn't know about the lurches of her stomach or the motions her hand made over his piece of paper either. Everyone has their little secrets.
"You're lovely, James Potter," she sighed and the way she said it made him almost believe she meant it.
A red color rose in his ears and cheeks as she sat there, looking as wonderful as ever with a slight glow from the fire cascading onto her face. "You're drunk, Lily Evans."
"You're both arses if you don't get the game going," Marlene complained loudly from her part in the circle. James cleared his throat and turned away from Lily.
The round continued. He looked at Lily once before turning to Dorcas and whispering something incoherent into her ear.
Everyone rolled their eyes as the secret went around. It was typical that James would whisper something like this into a game of telephone.
"Go out with me, Potter?" was what came out of Lily's mouth.
That was not supposed to come out of her mouth. What was supposed to come out of Lily Evans' mouth was 'James loves Lily'. No one changed it to 'Go out with me, Potter'.
James looked at her wide-eyed, any alcohol that had been in his body had been soaked out with those few words.
Stop it, he wanted to tell her. You're Lily Evans. You do not get drunk and ask me out.
This can't be real. It couldn't be. It had to be a fluke. And then she giggled and he realized. She was drunk.
He slowly lifted his wand.
"Surely you're not going to Avada Kedavra her so that you won't have to go on a date!?" Kaitlyn exclaimed in horror. Marlene shushed her, all of them too enraptured in the scene that was taking place before them.
James whispered a sobering spell and Lily clutched her head. "Bugger fuck, ow."
He looked sadly on at the hungover teen—still beautiful, but never his—and reflected on just how stupid he was. He should have just said yes. It would have been his only chance.
But then she did something that he didn't expect.
She leaned over and whispered something in his ear, as if the game was still going on between just the two of them.
"Go out with me, Potter?"
He sat there, astonished. He gaped like a fish—his mouth opening and closing for a few seconds.
Everyone has their little secrets. But it was funny how a game of telephone and a glass of "butterbeer" could change that.
Stop it. You're James Potter. You're not supposed to be kissing Lily Evans in the common room for all the world to see.
A/N: I know, it's not as funny as the other ones. It has it's moments, I guess, but it was really more-or-less centered around just Lily and James rather than all the Marauders. I'm sorry if this turned out like crap. I had my mind on 3 different subjects as well as this. Don't judge P. Alright, off to study Spanish...