Disclaimer: I don't own anybody you recognize.

This was written for Mystii's Prompts, oh, Prompts challenge on Next-Gen Fanatics with the prompts 'sword', 'fighting', 'candy floss', and 'devil'


Life would be a lot less fun without older brothers to annoy, and I'll toast to that.

"Lily, get back here!" Al demands, running straight past my (excellent, if I do say so myself) hiding place. "Where the hell are you?"

"Good question," I tell his girlfriend cheerfully as she wanders by me on her way to restraining Al. "He's a keeper, he is."

Nessie sighs and offers me a smile. "If I had any sense at all, I would have stayed in America. You Brits are just too bizarre."

I affect an affronted air. "Bizarre? You're the one with the silly accent!"

She rolls her eyes and runs after her boyfriend before he does anything stupid like accosting random redheads in an attempt to find me. Which I think he's already doing.

I wonder what people with smart brothers do for fun…

"What did you do this time?" Roxanne asks, stopping by my hiding place (okay, maybe it's not that excellent). She looks amusedly exasperated—or maybe exasperatedly amused. It's an expression a lot of people like to wear around me. Can't imagine why.

"Nothing," I answer, wearing my most innocent expression. I can practically see my halo.

And Rose accuses me of being a 'devil child'. The horns are there to hold up the halo, of course. Silly Rose.

Roxanne, shockingly, isn't buying it. "Al's running around like a maniac. Al never runs around like a maniac. He usually lets James do that. What did you do?"

I pout. "Why do you always blame me?"

She raises an eyebrow in an excellent imitation of my mother. And my cat. "You're Lily," she says, as if that explains everything.

All right, maybe that does explain everything. Whatever. "I may have told Mum and Dad that he eloped with Nessie last weekend."

Now both her eyebrows shoot straight up. "Why on Earth would you do that?"

I cross my arms defensively. "Lorcan dared me to!"

"Did he actually elope?" she demands.

"No," I scoff. "Al's a romantic. He's probably waiting to propose on New Years' Eve or something equally cliché."

"That's sweet!" Roxanne protests, probably because she's dating Scorpius Malfoy and he's the most cliché bloke on the planet.

"That's stupid," I counter, beaming. "If I ever have a guy propose to me, I want him to do it in the least cliché way possible."

She rolls her eyes. "What, you want him down on both knees?"

"Hey, there's an idea," I say approvingly. "You might want to mention that to Scorpius. Maybe then he'll abandon the fireworks plan."

Her eyes widen. "What fireworks plan?"

I giggle. "Whoops. Sorry. I'm on a proposal-ruining streak today, aren't I?"

Roxanne huffs. "You're impossible, Lily," she tells me, looking vaguely amused.

"Correction," interrupts James, randomly appearing behind me and draping an arm around my shoulders. "She's impossibly Lily."

I shrug off his arm. "Thank you, brother dearest. What the heck are you doing here talking to us lowly girls?"

(See, Mum? I can refrain from using profanities! I said 'heck' instead of 'hell'—even Al said 'hell'! Two points for me!)

James clears his throat and makes a big show of…something. I'm not quite sure what the point of all his theatrics was. "I wanted to personally invite my two of my favorite girls to watch me battle in the jousting tournament."

"Who are you jousting?" Roxanne asks as I daydream about my most annoying brother getting his butt kicked by a faceless professional jouster.

Here, James shoots me a mischievous grin. "Lily's one and only Lorcan Scamander."

I'm not sure whether to be outraged or embarrassed.

Deciding on outraged, I smack him and say, "He is not mine, you dolt. And he is totally going to kick your butt."

"Don't be silly, Lily," James says, smiling proudly at his own (stupid, if you ask me) rhyme. "Ha. Silly Lily. That rhymes."

This idiot is eighteen. I kid you not.

"Lily?" Roxanne pokes my shoulder. "Stop daydreaming about murdering James. Or Lorcan without a shirt. Whichever."

Perhaps this comment requires some exposition (yes, yes, I know, I hate it, too. But it's necessary, all right?).

See, the delusional members of my family—i.e. mostly my cousins and occasionally my mother—have decided that I am in love with my best friend. That would be Lorcan Scamander, for those of you who've been living under a rock. Why they have decided this, I have no clue. It has nothing to do with my hexing Lucy bald when she tried flirting with him, I'm sure.

(I'm not violent, I swear! My cousins and brothers just drive me crazy sometimes. All the time, actually. But that goes for all of us, really.)

Anyway, if nothing else, I inherited that stupid Weasley blush from my mother (stupid, because it tends to pop up at the most inconvenient times). "Shut up, Roxie! Or I'll tell Fred what you were really doing that night you snuck out."

She gasps. "You wouldn't!"

"She would," James answers cheerfully for me. "Come on, then. It's almost time for my tournament with Lil—"

I press my wand to his throat. "Don't even go there, Jamie."

He scowls at me over my wand. "Don't call me that."

In James-ese, that means I win.

"Carry on, O Fearless Leader," I declare brightly. "Lead the way to your butt-kicking!"

He makes a move to strangle me. Roxanne restrains him in an act of kindness—or is it bribery so I won't tell Fred?—and we go marching onwards. Eventually, the three of us reach a large, crowded platform, where the last two combatants are basking in the adulation of the crowd.

"Hey, there, Firecracker!" greets a very familiar and highly welcome voice from behind me.

"Lorcan!" I beam and fling my arms around him, grateful for the rescue from the company of my idiot brother and my silly cousin (all right, I'm exaggerating. But I'm a teenager—I'm allowed to do that, okay?). "Are you ready to kick James's butt?"

James, already up on the stage, scowls over at me. Roxanne smothers a laugh before attaching herself to Scorpius, whom has conveniently popped up near us.

"You bet I am," Lorcan grins, tweaking one of my bright red curls. "Check out my sword!"

"Is that a euphemism?" I wonder—completely innocently, of course, as I know nothing of sexual innuendos and all that grown-up stuff, of course.

He rolls his eyes and pokes my waist, making me squeal. I'm dreadfully ticklish and he, that little bast—um, prat, knows it, too!

(Mum would be so proud of me. My New Years' Resolution was not to swear, and look how good I'm being!)

(Okay, my resolution was to not swear in front of Mum, but in that case, I'm doing even better! So, ha!)

I open my mouth to call him a name, but he draws his sword and I fall silent.

See, I have to admit, I kind of have a thing for anything dangerous and/or shiny. Swords, shields, unicorns, crowns, and my neon blue, glittery medieval dress all qualify. So, upon seeing Lorcan's sword, I was a little wonderstruck.

It's this shiny silver sword with a golden hilt, and it's so crystal-clear, I can see my reflection in it. The hilt is decorated with the bluest aquamarines I've ever seen, and Lorcan's hand fits perfectly through the hilt and his smile—never mind.

Point is, it's a beautiful sword.

"James is going down," he promises me, leaning in and lowering his voice and maybejustmaybe inducing butterflies in my stomach.

I beam. "He totally is."

And then I look over his shoulder, see Albus scanning the crowd, and run for my life.

Lorcan, bless him, just winks at me and ascends the platform, probably too used to me and my brothers acting paranoid around each other. The pranks we pull, well, we put Fred and Roxie to shame, we do. Potters just prank better, in general, because we're way cooler.

Ahem.

I take cover behind a candy floss stand where I have a perfect view of both the jousting tournament and Albus's mutinous expression. The owner of the stand looks at me curiously, takes in my red hair and freckles, shrugs, and goes back to his work.

This is why I would never attend a muggle medieval festival. Those people don't understand the power of the Redhead Clan, as we are known around this part of England.

Lorcan and James take their stances, swords at the ready, and the referee signals for them to start fighting. Their swords clash, and the battle is on, and maybe I should stop being so dramatic when I have no audience, huh?

Oh, well, that's not quite true. The candy floss stand owner is looking at me again.

"Miss, I'm going to ask that you buy some candy floss if you want to continue hiding behind my stand," he says, looking kindly at me over his glasses.

I glance once at the large, pink balls of fluff and beam. "I'd love some! How much?"

Yeah, all right, I have a bit of a sweet tooth. Sue me.

"Two galleons," he says, seeming pleased, and hands me a stick of pink fluff. I fish out two galleons from my pocket and hand it to him, gratefully accepting the candy floss, and then return to watching Lorcan and James's match in delight.

Because James is totally getting his butt kicked. Lorcan may be younger and smaller and handsomer—um, that is, Lorcan may be younger and smaller, but he knows what he's doing. I think Uncle Rolf used to fence or something similar, because Lorcan is just creaming James like there's no tomorrow.

And it's awesome.

I bite into my ball of floss and it melts in my mouth like…well, like a ball of floss, I suppose. At the same moment, Lorcan makes one neat slash with his sword, and James's (not as cool, if you ask me) sword goes clattering to the floor. Grinning, Lorcan presses the tip of his sword to James's throat, and the referee declares the match over.

And Albus is gone.

Quickly, I dart out from my new-and-improved hiding place and launch myself through the crowds at an impressive pace, if I do say so myself. Taking care to avoid any remotely dark-haired boys, I clamber up onto the stage and straight into Lorcan's arms.

"Did you like the match, Firecracker?" Lorcan asks, grinning as he buries his head in my hair.

"Of course I did!" I reply, pulling back to flash him a smile before turning to a defeated James. "I told you so," I say, just to keep with the theme of being the most annoying little sister possible.

"Shut up, Lily!" James glares at us. "Where'd you learn that, Scamander?"

"Dad taught me," he answers, extending a hand around my body to James. "Good match."

James huffs but accepts his hand and shakes it reluctantly. "You're good," he admits, sounding as if it pained him to say that.

"What are you eating?" Lorcan asks, turning his attention back to me and completely ignoring the screaming girls clamoring for his attention—not that I care.

"Candy floss," I tell him, offering him a bite. "It's really good. Say, uh, aren't you going to control your fan girls? I think one of them is trying to steal your sleeve."

Lorcan twists around and practically dazzles the girl with his smile like he's one of those silly, sparkly Muggle vampires. She blushes and giggles and titters like a right idiot and her friends all squeal. I make a face, because that is just pathetic.

(And it has nothing to do with the fact that he's never used his Prince Charming smile on me, despite me being his bestbest friend in the whole wide world. No, siree, nothing at all.)

"There," he says cheerfully, turning back to me. "Now that I have thoroughly humiliated your brother, do you wanna head to that café on the corner of the street?"

I catch sight of Albus out of the corner of my eye. "Yes. Definitely. Let's do that," I say firmly, nodding.

Lorcan follows my gaze and snorts. "Is he still upset about the whole eloping thing?"

"Yes."

"Didn't you apologize?"

"…Yes."

"Lily!"

"What? You would have done the same thing if this were your brother!"

"Maybe, but Lysander's always off making out with Rose," Lorcan points out as we descend the platform and enter the throngs of screaming girls.

"Well, Al's always making out with Nessie!" I retort, accidentally-on-purpose shoving away one of the girls who tries to drape herself over Lorcan.

"You're still going to have to face him eventually," he points out, switching subjects because he knows I'm right, clearly.

"Yeah, yeah," I roll my eyes, waving off his not-so-concerned concern. "C'mon. Cider Café is a hop, skip, and jump away!"

He sends me a weird look. "Who says that anymore?"

"Lily Luna Potter, that's who!" I tell him cheerfully, dragging him into the blessedly-warm, homey café. "Smells like your cottage, Lorc."

Lorcan grins. "It does, doesn't it? Hey, I see a free couch over there!"

We manage to beat Molly and her latest beau to the last free couch and settle in comfortably to wait for the waiter.

Hey, look at that, we're waiting for the waiter. I crack myself up sometimes.

"What do you wanna order, Lils?" Lorcan asks, his arm brushing mine as he opens up the menu sitting on the coffee table in front of us.

I finish off my candy floss. "Apple cider, of course. What else?"

Lorcan grins and beckons over the waiter. A fairly young-looking wizard, as far as waiters go, approaches us.

"What would you like to order?" he asks us politely, but he's definitely looking at me, not Lorcan.

Hey, I haven't been related to three part-Veelas my whole life without learning a few tricks of the trade. I twirl a red curl around my fingers—that's Victoire's trick—and bat my eyelashes—Dominique's trick. I, uh, don't actually know what Louis does to pick up girls, but whatever.

"Apple cider," Lorcan answers, and is it just me or does he sound distinctly annoyed?

I glance over, and he seems perfectly normal. Just me, then.

(Or is it? Insert dramatic music here.)

"Me too," I add, throwing in a dazzling smile for effect.

The waiter—his name tag says Caleb—looks smitten as he writes down our orders. Mission accomplished. Two more points for me!

Lorcan nudges me as Caleb wanders off to the kitchens. "Stop doing that."

I blink innocently—see, Rose, angel, not devil!—at him. "Doing what?"

Lorcan makes a few random gestures. "Flirting with him!" he splutters finally, shooting a dark look in Caleb's direction.

I swear, I'm required by law to jump on that. For Merlin's sake, he's all but admitted he's jealous!

"Jealous, much?" I tease, grinning at him.

He blushes. Oh, my gosh, I made Lorcan Scamander blush. That must be worth about a hundred points right there!

"No!" Lorcan denies.

"Sounds like it," I giggle. "If you have a crush on me, Lorc—"

"Shut up," he grumbles.

I'm about to make fun of him some more when Caleb reappears with our apple ciders. That was…insanely fast.

Lorcan makes a face at him, but Caleb's focused on me (and I say that with the least amount of arrogance possible—hey, a girl's got to have fun sometime, doesn't she?) as he hands us our ciders. Lorcan nearly spills his as he grabs it.

"Relax," I mutter to him, flashing Caleb a smile as I daintily (okay, not really, but let me pretend!) accept my glass. "Thank you!"

"Welcome," he says, sounding slightly dazed.

Lorcan glares at Caleb as he walks away. "I just don't like him, Lils."

"Clearly," I say with an unladylike snort, taking a sip of my cider.

"Seriously," he insists, turning to face me, and there's something dangerously bright in his silvery-blue eyes.

And you know me. I like dangerous things.

Without really thinking about, I lean forward and kiss him, completely disregarding all the spectators and his surprise and the apple cider in our hands. Because if I'm being honest, I've wanted to do this for a long time now, and if I finallyfinally have proof that he feels the same way, well, I'm not going to waste my chance.

He tastes like apple cider, and, okay, so I've kissed a lot of boys before, but none have made me feel like this. This is all fireworks-butterflies-cliché, and maybe I don't do cliché.

But I'll make an exception for Lorcan.

He pulls back, his breath warm on my face, and grins that Prince Charming grin of his. "Does this mean you'll stop flirting with that waiter bloke?"

I laugh and snake my arms around his neck. "Only if you shut up and kiss me again."

And we lived happily ever after. Or something like that.

(I still don't do all that sappy stuff, all right?)


Author's Notes: Lily…let me get better at writing you in first person, pretty please? Haha, I hope you all enjoyed this regardless of the first person and the present tense (which would probably bother me, too, but Lily was insistent!), and if you did enjoy it, please review!

Additional Disclaimer: Nessie belongs to Stephenie Meyer ;)

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