Author's Notes: Written for the the lilyjames_fest's third drabble round on livejournal. The prompt was Lily and James's wedding invitation (dated 10 March 1979).

A Quick Rummage

Truthfully, she'd forgotten about it entirely until, rummaging through her rucksack in search of the quill she'd filched from him yesterday, James jokingly remarks that he hopes she's not hiding anything embarrassing in there.

She lunges.

"I'll find it!" Her chair nearly topples over at the inelegant dive, but Lily somehow manages not only to successfully seize her rucksack strap, but also to remain off her arse doing so, an improbable victory. She gives the strap a forceful yank and the bag jerks out of James's grasp. She hopes her thin-lipped smile doesn't look as manic as it feels. "It's probably at the bottom. Such a mess."

James's hands are frozen mid-rummage. "Evans?"

"Hm?" Lily buries her very red face in the bag.

"What exactly do you have in there?"

Lily snorts dismissively—"In here? Come off it, Potter!"—but she's grateful for the shield her hair is providing as she briefly glances up because dear Merlin, she's too easy to read and this cannot be happening. She knew she should have burnt the damn thing to ashes the very second Marlene had passed it to her during History. But instead, Lily had just shot her mate a dirty look and jammed the stupid thing between the pages of an old Charms tome before anyone could see. There it had remained since class this morning, untouched between the brittle slabs of bound parchment for any rucksack ransacker to find.

Well...mostly untouched, anyway.

Lily may have...she may have flipped open the tome a few times—for scholarly purposes only, of course! And if she happened to come across Marlene's poor attempt at a joke in the process...well, it wasn't as if she'd gawked at it or anything. She'd just had a nice laugh. Bloody daft Marlene. The girl had clearly lost it.

And as if Lily would ever be married at bloody nineteen. What was she? Knocked-up?

Oh dear god, you depraved twat, why would you even think that?

Lily buries her head farther in the rucksack.

"Illegal potions, isn't it?" James is guessing, thankfully unaware of the direction her thoughts have just taken. "Sipping the speed? Sampling liquid hallucinogens?"

"You've caught me."

"Or is it dirty magazines?" Lily can hear the smirk in his voice. "Playwitch, perhaps?"

"Oh, yes. In here, too. A couple of them."

"Or maybe—"

"Ah-ha!" Lily brandishes the stolen quill jubilantly, waving it aloft as she immediately shoves her rucksack to the floor and kicks it beneath the table, safely hidden. She passes the quill over to James. "There you go. Quill's returned. Now bugger off."

"But now I have a question," James says.

Lily sticks him with a baleful stare. "Yes, Potter, there is a drug for that little problem of yours and I'll see if I can drudge it up."

"Thank you," he replies quickly. "But while you're at it..."


"Would you mind terribly changing our wedding date? Invitation says 10 March. Remus's birthday. He'd be terribly forlorn if we usurped it."