A/N: Omygosh look! I'm actually finishing this story! It is now officially complete! I am so sorry I haven't updated this story for…holy crap a freakin year! – I didn't mean for that to happen haha. I do hope that you guys enjoy this last installment in this short, smutty story of Lily and James ;).
Disclaimer: No own =(.
He was utterly and completely speechless. When he looked closely, he saw Lily trembling slightly, but that bright fire was back in her eyes and her posture was straight, chin almost in the air, and the same aura around her that she used to have when he'd smirked at the haughty way she used to speak to him.
"Lily…" he murmured.
Sirius and Remus were talking loudly, but out of all of them, Sirius was obviously the most impressed.
Not two minutes ago, Randy had stepped over to the Gryffindor table, tugging roughly on Lily's arm to try to get her to follow him out of the Great Hall. James had immediately stood, ripping Randy's arm away from her, and the other boy sneered. The Hall had gone strangely quiet.
Lily had stood a moment after, body stiff but her eyes spitting flames, and James had thought he would never see her that fiery again. She hadn't needed to yell at Randy – her words echoed throughout the Great Hall walls so everyone could hear – and merely told him that he was an utter and complete asshole and that they were over.
James had never heard Lily curse before, but from the way her lips curled and how she practically spit the word, he figured it must be some sort of Muggle curse. Then, to the great surprise of all, Lily reared her fist back and socked Randy right in the nose.
For a while, James could only stand there, stunned. He had been on the receiving end of Lily's punches a lot, and he knew what they were like. And Randy was holding his nose, hurling more curses at her before fleeing the Great Hall.
They, too, had left quickly, knowing that once the teachers overcame their initial astonishment, one would certainly come to Lily and demand the entire story. And James knew that should something happen, Lily would get off clean. He would willingly testify that he had witnessed the bruises, and he suspected that Alice and Mary would stand up for her as well.
"You know, Evans," Sirius started, "I think I like you. I mean, I thought you were a stuck-up prude before, and especially since you became a Head for seventh year, but you know what? You're definitely not a prude."
She had the good grace to snort. "Sure, Sirius. Sure."
"What? You're not."
"She never was," James butted in. Lily had never been a prude. Sirius just didn't…follow…her like James had before.
The redhead absently rubbed her knuckles, glancing down. "Ow," she murmured.
James took her hand, carefully running the pad of his thumb over the raw and reddened skin. "Well, I think it's a good hurt knowing you got Randy back."
For a quick second, he saw her contemplating it before a slow smile spread across her lips.
"Yeah. I feel good."
He thought she looked radiant, and he could see every part of her was alive. Now that was his Lily. The Lily that didn't let anyone walk over her, the Lily that was one of the most talented witches at Hogwarts, the Lily that studied hard in front of the Gryffindor Common Room fire only to look up in amusement at the antics of some of the first and second years.
Suddenly, one of the large Great Hall doors creaked and banged open, and out stepped a confused and purposeful and very furious Professor McGonagall. Lily glanced at him, her green eyes a bit tense and a sheepish smile on her face, but he knew what she was asking.
"Do it," he urged quietly. It was high time she told someone about Randy. "Tell her."
She stared at him, smiling hesitantly, but it was broken when Professor McGonagall was close enough to splutter, "M-Miss Evans, I – Explain yourself!"
Professor McGonagall's face was flushed underneath her pointy witch hat, and she was wringing her fingers in the extra fabric of her robes, her voice clearly shaking with fury even though she had no idea what to say.
Lily turned towards their Transfiguration teacher. "Professor," she said slowly, "I would be more than willing to explain in your office."
James could tell that McGonagall was about to respond with some sort of retort along the lines of "You certainly will," but as Lily looked at her, something stopped the older woman from speaking. The lines of her mouth were turned down in a serious frown, but she simply nodded brusquely.
"Follow me, then, Miss Evans," she instructed, turning on her heel and walking away. As much as he didn't want her to, Lily followed.
But she looked back at him.
His back hunched forward and his concentration on Lily's retreating figure broke when Sirius suddenly clapped him on the back. "Well done, mate."
He raised an eyebrow. "Well done? On what?"
Sirius grinned. "You got her, didn't you? After all those years of moaning and groaning and moping and being so lovesick you finally got her to see who you really are! Of course, who couldn't help but love a Marauder?"
James shook his head. "You are incorrigible, Sirius." But he smiled nonetheless. This was why he was friends with Sirius and Remus and Peter. Peter definitely wasn't as outgoing as Sirius or even Remus, but the three made it all worthwhile. They were his best friends, and he would do anything for them.
"I still can't believe it," Remus mused. "She actually likes you now."
"Gee, thanks," James muttered sarcastically.
Remus just shrugged. "Well, she's just hated you for so long. I'm still in shock about the whole thing."
"Yeah, yeah. You can shut up now, Mooney."
"Really, though, Prongs, it's a miracle. Hell, even I wasn't expecting it." Sirius looked serious, but there was a glint in his eyes, and James knew he wasn't being as serious as it seemed.
So he rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine. Make fun of me all you want, but I'm leaving."
"Aww, Jamesy-poo! We didn't mean it!" Sirius called, but James didn't listen. Most of this was still new, and while he was cocky and easygoing most of the time, he just wasn't in the mood for Sirius – and even Remus' – remarks about him and Lily.
He was worried about her in McGonagall's office; apparently when Mary and Alice had tried to get her to talk before, she wouldn't, and he wondered if she needed support. He supposed that seemed stupid, but anything pertaining to Lily wasn't stupid to him.
And really, he wasn't mad at his friends at all. They were being who they always were, and they didn't know how many times Lily had come to him in the middle of the night, trusting him and him alone to take care of her. After Mary and Alice had refused to, of course, but it didn't lessen the significance – not to him.
In all honesty, they were right. Most of it was shocking. Lily could have taken his advance in a completely different way. She could have convinced herself that she wanted nothing to do with him, even after she had asked him to make love to her.
There was no way he could resist. He had been dying to touch her in any way other than "friends" and besides, he had felt the intense urge to show her how she should be loved, how she could be loved.
Thank Merlin she had given him the chance.
"Hey, Potter! POTTER!" Someone suddenly yelled.
James was broken from his thoughts, and whirled around, eyes narrowing when he caught sight of just who was walking towards him. His lips curled and he sneered, "You've got a lot of nerve showing up here, Randy."
The Ravenclaw still had a light bruise around his nose and eyes, but he had no doubt gone to see Madame Pomfrey when he had fled the Great Hall since he was no longer bleeding. And if there was one thing James new just looking at Randy, it was that he was absolutely livid.
"You have no right, Potter! No right!"
But James was livid, too. "No right to what? Give Lily what she deserves?" He could barely control his temper. His fists were clenching sporadically as he tried desperately not to lash out and break Randy's nose again.
"She was mine, Potter!"
"Lily's not a possession, Randy!" James yelled, cheeks flushed with anger. Randy's hair was disheveled, but some sort of idea came to Randy, because when his eyes flashed, James felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. He didn't like that look.
"All right then, Potter," Randy growled – a very good impression if James had any say – and took a step closer. "Meet me by the Black Lake. Eight o' clock. We'll fight for Lily."
James' lip curled again. "No way." He wanted to – Merlin, he wanted to fight on Lily's behalf, to show this Ravenclaw what for, but he knew that Lily wouldn't like it.
"Then what are you waiting for?"
He didn't have to tell Lily…did he? Would she find out?
"Come on, Potter. What do you have to lose? You're the best, aren't you?" Randy continued, his voice taking on a lilting tone, one that had James' heart thudding in his chest.
He remembered first meeting Randy. He was always neat, his hair combed, clothes straight, and he would smile a lot. But this…James had never seen this before.
"Fine. I'll do it."
Randy grinned. "Tonight, then, Potter." He turned to walk away, but smiled widely when he looked over his shoulder. "Oh, and…don't bring your wand, Potter. We settle this Muggle style."
James didn't like that either, and Randy's wide mouth was creeping him out, but he gave one curt nod before he left, not knowing where he was headed, but he just needed to go anywhere, somewhere, other than where Randy was.
Soft, pale fingers swirled against his chest, and James let his eyes fall shut. His breathing was still slightly ragged, as was Lily's, and every time she breathed he could feel her breasts press against his side. It was ridiculous how much Lily turned him on with merely a word or the simplest of touches.
Once James had calmed down, he had found Lily, silently sitting on his bed in the Head Dormitories. She had changed from her robes into his Quidditch shirt. After discussing how the meeting with McGonagall went (she had explained everything, and only after that had McGonagall expressed her suspicions that something was indeed wrong), Lily had leaned forward, lightly pressing her lips to his.
From there, everything escalated until they were breathless and panting, tangled in the sheets as they both came down from their high. Slowly, James ran his fingers through Lily's hair, marveling at how soft it was and how lucky he felt to have managed to convince her that he was indeed good for her.
True, the events hadn't been pretty that led to this, and he wished that Lily had never had to go through an abusive boyfriend – even at Hogwarts – but he had no doubt that she was stronger because of it. And the other reason he couldn't find it in himself to regret the circumstances was that it had brought her to him. Without it, they wouldn't be here.
Her fingers still traced unknown patterns over his skin, and she slowly kissed his shoulder. He gazed at her, knowing it would still take a while for her to completely become herself again, but he could already tell she was so much better.
It stroked his ego to know he had been able to help her, but even more so, he was just happy she was finally happy. It had almost physically hurt to see that fire die out a little every day until he couldn't see it anymore, but now…
Now, she was starting to heal.
"James…" she murmured, scooting against him until she was comfortable, a small smile on her lips. "Goodnight."
He grinned, happy that she was so sated (even though for a while there before they hadn't even slept and had made love practically all day), but when his eyes glanced at the clock, his grin vanished as soon as it had come.
It was almost eight o'clock.
He felt his heart drop. He knew Lily wouldn't like it, but Randy had asked for it. Literally. James couldn't believe things had happened this way – that Lily was finally his. He had dreamed about it for so long that it almost seemed like it didn't happen, but there she was, lying next to him with a contented smile on her face.
Which was why he had to protect her.
Everyone knew that he and Sirius were the two most troublesome and uncontrollable students at Hogwarts, but they were also two of the best wizards in their year.
James sighed. In all his duels, he'd always had his wand. This time, he wouldn't. Randy had said that, but even still, he was certain he could beat Randy even without a wand.
He glanced at Lily, guilt pressing at his chest. He had to go.
Quietly, James left the bed, careful not to move Lily and wake her. Sirius and Peter were out, making sure the second, less dangerous night of Remus' change went just as smoothly as last night. He'd already told them he couldn't make it tonight, and Sirius had wiggled his eyebrows, and while James didn't like it, he let them think that. He didn't need them to know exactly what he was doing.
Once he was out of the Head dorms, it was easy to find his way through the halls. He had travelled them so many times he didn't even need to look at the map. Granted, they were the ones that made it, so they were the ones that had discovered all the paths that led throughout the school, but it was definitely a nice addition to the map when they'd added the feature to see where everyone was.
He wanted to do that with Randy, but it was probably a bad idea. Even though he never took a bad idea into consideration (because he could mostly get out of it later if it went down the drain), this was something he didn't want to mess up.
Finally, he was outside, moving towards the Black Lake and keeping a sharp eye for Randy. There was a reason the Ravenclaw hadn't wanted him to bring his wand, and he had to make sure he stayed alert. One wrong move, and he could be killed, so he had to tread carefully.
Every sense was on high alert, waiting for Randy to pop out of nowhere and hex him – or something worse. Still, each step carried him further, and before he knew it he was at the Black Lake, stopping a few hundred feet from the shore, watching for the smallest movement.
When Randy appeared over the hill, James felt butterflies rage in his stomach, even though he deflated slightly when Randy appeared. He'd expected to have to fight for his life suddenly, and it was all anti-climactic really.
Randy stopped in front of him, hair shaggy, face drawn in a mixture of malice, disdain, and some sort of hidden pleasure at a secret only he knew. James wanted to say something, but he locked his jaw, keeping his mouth shut. That was always his problem – he just couldn't ever keep his thoughts to himself.
And dammit, he still couldn't. "So? How're we gonna settle this?" He wanted to get it over with so he could go back to Lily, but for some reason, when Randy smiled, James felt that this wouldn't just be short, it'd be deadly.
"You ever heard of the legend of the werewolf, Potter?" Randy asked.
He stiffened. "Yes."
"Well, of course! That's right," Randy sneered, failing to look surprised. "Your dear friend Remus is one himself."
"How do you know about Remus?" James demanded.
Randy kept his mouth shut. He just smiled, eyes glittering unnaturally in the moonlight. Finally, he said, "I can tell."
"What are you getting at?" James bristled.
"Nothing, nothing," Randy said evasively, his light answer a complete turnaround from the anger in his voice a moment before. "But I'm surprised that dear Lily never noticed – considering how smart she is and all."
"Stop playing around, Randy!" James yelled. "Make your point already!" He really didn't like the tingles of warning running down his spine.
Randy grinned and stepped closer. "My point, Potter?" His smile turned feral. "I wanted you to come completely defenseless. I—"
Whatever else he had been about to say was cut off as the grass and the lake sparkled with silver moonlight. Randy's eyes glowed, and before James could even think of what was happening, his stomach was already at his feet, because even though he couldn't think, he knew what was happening. He'd seen it too many times before to miss it.
Randy was a werewolf.
He swallowed, watching the nails lengthen first, then the hair, and finally the bones. They cracked, splitting and reforming, popping ligaments as the hair on his body grew, making him a musty brownish-grey color. Spit flew from the open fangs glinting like the sharpest ivory, eyes glowing a devilish black as they fixed on James.
It was hideous. It was the only thing James could see. He'd never liked it when Remus turned into a werewolf; he stood mostly on his hind legs, abdomen a mess of rippling, hairy muscle, but he was thin, too, pointed ears on the back of his skull. But Remus had been James' friend, so he hadn't given it a second thought. He'd accepted his friend unconditionally, and they had even come up with a plan to become animagus so they could help him.
This werewolf looked the same, but his ears weren't pinned back in shame or remorse. His ears were pinned back because he was angry and he wanted to kill, those eyes a deep hole of glinting black death.
So he did the first thing that came to mind. Only when he started to shift did the anger course hot and heavy through his body, and his eyes hardened as Randy ran ever closer.
The werewolf looked surprised, but roared in fury, charging that much faster as the last of James' transformation materialized. Then, he was the mighty stag, antlers pointed viciously towards the monster seconds away from crashing into him.
Then, Randy was on him, the two clashing in a flurry of hooves and claws and angry roars. Randy's sharp claws dug into James' skin, ripping it away. He let out a cry of pain, quickly swinging his head around the side to smash his antlers into Randy. It clipped his arm, and the werewolf roared, lashing out, one claw catching James' face as he tumbled away, digging at the grass to stop his momentum.
James turned, wincing as eh felt the gash on his face sting and swell and the claw marks on his side drip blood oozing with yellowish liquid.
Slowly, Randy stood, fangs dripping with venomous saliva. A furtive glance down, and James saw the right arm he had hit hanging loosely at Randy's side. The werewolf looked positively livid. Whatever happened, he couldn't get bitten. He just couldn't. This wasn't Remus who – compared to this one – was a tame type of werewolf that tried his best to think through the addicting state that came every full moon. This werewolf would kill him if he let him get too close.
Randy let out another roar before he charged again. James dug his hooves into the ground, watching, waiting to put his antlers down just before Randy would collide with him. At the last second, he swung them at the werewolf, but he dodged, whipping around to slash at James again.
He sidestepped, twirling around and kicking out with one hind leg, connecting with Randy's chest. A claw slashed at the back of his leg just above the hock, and panic made his heart suddenly stutter in fear as he felt the werewolf fly back, angling his head so his teeth just barely grazed the cannon bone.
Don't get bitten. Don't get bitten. Don't get bitten!
It was like a mantra repeating itself over and over in his mind, and he backed away quickly, eyes looking at the thin trail of silver-red blood dripping from the wound he had inflicted.
He flinched again, feeling the pain lancing up his leg from the slice of Randy's claw. There were a few other injuries – most bruises from the sheer force of impact when Randy had slammed himself into James without a second thought.
Suddenly, Randy moved, briskly, soundlessly, and James barely had time to jerk away before Randy was on him, claws digging painfully into his chest as James reared up, trying as best as he could to avoid those vicious, snapping jaws mere feet away from his face.
Back feet dug into the grass, trying to find the support to rear even higher. His front legs were almost trapped, but he lashed out with them as best as he could in attempt to find some place that hurt Randy.
The werewolf lunged again, and James jerked back, eyes suddenly wide as he realized just how efficiently he'd grabbed hold of the dirt, because his back feet weren't moving. He tilted, the claws ripping out of his chest and a strangled cry of pain and fear escaping his throat as he teetered back.
Then, before he knew it, he crashed to the ground onto his back, the heavy thud knocking the wind out of him completely. He didn't even have a chance to get it back. Randy was on him in a flurry of hair and limbs and spit, and even without air, the instinct in James shot forward, blood filling his veins with adrenaline as he tried to push the werewolf off.
It was going to be the end soon. He knew it. He could barely suck in enough air to recover, and those teeth kept coming dangerously close to ripping the skin and letting the venom slip into his bloodstream.
The cry was deep and loud and forceful in the midst of the battle, and James had no trouble hearing it. It startled him and Randy, but after a second, the werewolf fell limp over James. He sucked in breath after breath, finally relaxing, not realizing that when he had fallen backwards he had changed back to a human after he'd hit the ground.
He slid from underneath Randy's unconscious body, panting, scooting away from the wayward student. His hazel eyes immediately swept to his savior, and while he was surprised, he also wasn't. Of course it would be Dumbledore.
"Are you all right, James Potter?" the old man asked, voice soft and sure in that contemplative way he always seemed to have, not at all like the fierce cry that had echoed over the lake moments before.
All he could do was nod. James still didn't have any breath, and his skin felt like it was on fire. He was in pain, the cuts still oozing blood.
Not one moment later, three teachers hurried over the hill, one of them McGonagall, her face set. There was no doubt that she obviously believed everything Lily had told her, and if not, her evidence was right in front of her.
"Mr. Potter? I think it would be best if we left. I'm sure the teachers are more than capable of seeing to Mr. Turnbuckle."
James nodded again, slowly standing and wincing, following silently behind the headmaster as he lead them to the infirmary. Madam Pomfrey was immediately a bumbling mess, saying something about children and their wonderful habit of getting hurt and into trouble as she bustled around the battered Gryffindor, applying salve and bandages in all the necessary places.
Dumbledore was still there throughout the whole process, and it wasn't until a few more minutes after Madam Pomfrey left that James was finally able to speak.
"He was a werewolf." It was all he could manage. Yet after that, it was like everything just flowed out. "I didn't even know. I couldn't tell. And I see Mooney every day…!"
"You have questions, then, Mr. Potter?"
He nodded, and Dumbledore sighed. "Please lay back. Poppy will have my beard if I don't keep you calm," he chuckled. James had to admit it lightened the mood, and he obeyed Dumbledore's request, but he couldn't hide the expectant curiosity on his face.
"When Randy Turnbuckle's mother came to the school, she was desperate to give her son a good education. She wasn't sure what to do with him since she reported that he had been bitten only six months before his entrance to Hogwarts. From the description, it sounded like Fenrir Greyback…again."
"Voldemort's follower…the werewolf," James said breathlessly.
"Yes. I kept a close watch on him. I figured that since I took a chance on Mr. Lupin, I could take a chance on Mr. Turnbuckle. I didn't trust him as much as I did your good friend Remus, and unfortunately, my hunch was proved correct. I'm sorry for what it caused you, James."
James shook his head, rubbing his forehead and swiping a hand through his hair. "No. No, if anything, apologize to Lily. She was the one that…" he swallowed, "had to deal with him."
"If you wish, Mr. Potter," Dumbldore nodded. Then, the old headmaster tilted his head, eyes suddenly sparkling. "Then again, that might not be necessary. Miss Lily Evans is headed this way as we speak."
He stood. James still had questions, but he knew he could get those later. Dumbledore nodded to him once, then proceeded to exit the hospital, catching Lily at the large doors. They exchanged a few words, then he disappeared, and Lily slowly stepped closer.
"Hey," James smiled, and that was all it took. Lily's steps quickened until she was almost running to his bed, eyes quickly roaming over his form once she reached him. A quick fist jabbed his good shoulder, and James let out a loud "Ow!" before rubbing the spot and glaring at the green-eyed girl.
Lily's gaze was just as intense. "Don't ever do that to me again, James Potter!" she said viciously. "I can't believe you just – I mean, you simply can't – you're such an—"
But James didn't get to hear what came next. Quickly, even though it made him wince at the slight pain, he grabbed Lily's wrists and tugged her down to him, sealing his lips over hers.
When he pulled away, her cheeks were flushed, green eyes dark but sparkling with lust and something else James didn't understand until she spoke. "Please don't do that again, James," she whispered. "When I found out…" She heaved in a breath. "I was so worried."
"But we're going to be okay."
"Yes, but you're so hurt…!"
"Lily. I'll be fine."
She pouted, but this time, she was the one initiate the kiss, her hands curling in his hair and she carefully pressed closer. When they were like this, nothing else mattered, not even the fact that he was injured. He had finally gotten the girl of his dreams, and though she'd been through hardships, she had learned to remain the same girl he'd always known.
And this time, James really did believe what he'd said.
A/N: Okay, so I know I rushed the end a bit, but it's all done! I'm so excited I finally finished this. I loved writing the fight scene between Randy and James, and I think it came out wonderfully if I may say so myself.
Edit Note: A couple reviewers have commented on this particular subject and I just wanted to say my reasoning in case any future reviewers are wondering the same thing: While it does seem improbable that Dumbledore would accept another werewolf, it also seems improbable that he wouldn't accept another werewolf. Think about it: they are only 11 when they're sorted, and Dumbledore himself said that "sometimes I wonder if we Sort too soon." Every child is different. At 11, we're all at a moldable age. Remus had the desire to not be a monster because of his friends and who he was. As for Randy, maybe he was a good kid in the beginning. Maybe something happened along the way that caused him to choose another path. Maybe nothing happened but he simply decided to follow baser instincts. We don't know, (and even as the author I never wanted to delve that deeply into Randy's character; this is just a simple story). Dumbledore isn't all knowing. He admitted he had no idea what Tom Riddle would become when he was merely 11. I don't think any of us know. Anyway, that was why I made him a werewolf – it was completely unexpected but, like I try to do in all of my stories, it breaks the bounds of expectations and our assumed reality and makes you look at things in a different way – for the characters as well as the readers. Not everything in life is as it seems, and almost nothing will happen like we expect it to.
PS. Yes I cut out the last line. Late edit but I felt better about it. It was unneeded, really.
- wolf's paradise