The Dance
“You’re not serious.”
She gazed at him silently.
“You really want to… now?”
She nodded, biting her lip.
“You’re mental.”
A smile tugged at her mouth, and she shook her head.
“Fine, but if the others see us, I will never live this down.”
She smirked, and took his hand. Together they slipped out of bed, walking quietly down the hall. He followed her out the back door into the yard. The early lights of dawn gave the grassy clearing a soft glow.
Lily skipped ahead, spinning to face him. Her bright green eyes lit up as she offered her hands. James sighed, but couldn’t keep a grin from stealing over his face. Crossing the yard, he seized one of her hands, lifting it to his lips.
“My lady,” he said with a courtly bow. “May I have this dance?”
She’d stared at him, seemingly aghast. Practically the entire school surrounded them. She’d shaken her head quickly, stepping back, trying to pull her hand away. But he’d held on, and asked again, “A dance, Miss Evans?” Even as he spoke, he wondered for the first time what he’d do if she refused. Silently, he cursed Sirius for putting the idea in his head. Then, to his surprise as well as everyone else’s, she’d nodded, and moved forward.
“You may have a dance, Mr. Potter.”
He stepped even closer to her, putting his free hand around her waist, while she wrapped her arm around his back. For a split second he thought about what complete idiots they must look like; two nineteen year olds, a married couple, outside in the chilly November morning, about to start dancing in their nightclothes. Then Lily gently guided him forward, and he no longer cared what anyone else might think.
He’d taken the lead, pulling her through the steps with him. Unfortunately, his dancing skills weren’t quite as suave as he’d thought. She had laughed lightly as she almost tripped over his feet when he attempted to turn too soon.
“Maybe you should let me lead.” She’d told him breathlessly, her eyes sparkling.
“That wouldn’t be very gentlemanly.” He was only slightly embarrassed. She probably was a better dancer than him. But he had another trick up his sleeve, and he’d need to be leading to pull it off properly.
He could hear the rest of the school behind them, laughing and whispering as they watched. He tuned them out; focusing on the beautiful redhead whose hand rested on his back, who was close enough for him to smell her perfume.
“Your dancing hasn’t improved much,” she commented, giggling.
It was the giggling that threw him off. Lily didn’t giggle. He’d never once heard her giggle. At least not like that- not girlishly, like some entranced pre-teen. He took a misstep, and almost fell over.
His foot had caught on something, and he stumbled, accidentally stepping on her feet. She pulled back instinctively and lost her balance. She tumbled over backwards, and he fell on top of her, mortified. For a moment they both lay on the ground; she stared up at him, her green eyes startled.
Oh blazing hippogriffs, that was not supposed to have happened. He was going to murder Sirius. And Remus too, for good measure. Stupid Moony, reading things in books that should never be mentioned in real life. Stupid Padfoot, talking his friend into humiliating himself and the girl he loved in front of the entire school.
“I’m so sorry,” he said quickly, rolling over and scrambling to his feet. He offered her a hand.
She laughed and accepted it, allowing him to lift her to her feet. “I think you’re a better flier than dancer.”
“Probably,” he agreed, with a growing grin. “No hard feelings, though, right?”
“None,” she told him, her lips curving into a smile. Stepping closer, she looked up into his face. “I enjoyed it. But you missed the last step. It goes like this.”
She kissed him.
He loosened his grip on her waist, determined to get the move right this time. She tilted her head at him, curious.
“Ready?” he whispered. Without waiting for an answer he grasped her sides and lifted her into the air, spinning in a circle. Her gasp and clear laughter rang through the morning air. Grinning, feeling immensely satisfied with himself, he lowered her back to the ground, setting her gently on her feet.
Still laughing, she leaned into him. “That was impressive.”
He pulled her to him, running one hand through her long red hair as he grinned down at her. “Impressive? Me? Now I really wish I’d pulled that off before.”
Another giggle escaped her. “What, the kiss wasn’t enough for you?” She somehow managed to jab an elbow into his stomach playfully without loosening their embrace.
“I was shocked, when you kissed me.” he murmured to her. “I didn’t know until then you actually liked me back.”
Laying her head into the crook between his neck and shoulder, she sighed, “Neither did I.”
They were silent for a minute. Then she spoke. Her voice, so quiet he could barely hear it, teemed with love, passion, and joy. “James, I’m pregnant.”
He froze. His hand paused, entangled in her hair. She drew back a little, casting her eyes up at him. At first he couldn’t make sense of it. The words tumbled around in his brain. Pregnant. Pregnant meant baby. Baby meant- “You mean I’m going to be a father?”
“Yes,” she breathed. To his surprise, her eyes were filling with tears.
“Lily, don’t cry. It, it’ll be fine. I-you-we-” he fumbled for an answer, still trying to process what she had just said.
“I know, James.” A tear slipped down her cheek, but she was smiling. “I’m happy, James, I… I’m so happy.”
Then it clicked. James realized what it meant. Lily was pregnant. She was going to have a baby. His baby. Their baby. She was happy. And so was he.
“Me too, Lily.” He clasped her to him, holding her tightly. “I’m happy, too.”
She gazed at him silently.
“You really want to… now?”
She nodded, biting her lip.
“You’re mental.”
A smile tugged at her mouth, and she shook her head.
“Fine, but if the others see us, I will never live this down.”
She smirked, and took his hand. Together they slipped out of bed, walking quietly down the hall. He followed her out the back door into the yard. The early lights of dawn gave the grassy clearing a soft glow.
Lily skipped ahead, spinning to face him. Her bright green eyes lit up as she offered her hands. James sighed, but couldn’t keep a grin from stealing over his face. Crossing the yard, he seized one of her hands, lifting it to his lips.
“My lady,” he said with a courtly bow. “May I have this dance?”
She’d stared at him, seemingly aghast. Practically the entire school surrounded them. She’d shaken her head quickly, stepping back, trying to pull her hand away. But he’d held on, and asked again, “A dance, Miss Evans?” Even as he spoke, he wondered for the first time what he’d do if she refused. Silently, he cursed Sirius for putting the idea in his head. Then, to his surprise as well as everyone else’s, she’d nodded, and moved forward.
“You may have a dance, Mr. Potter.”
He stepped even closer to her, putting his free hand around her waist, while she wrapped her arm around his back. For a split second he thought about what complete idiots they must look like; two nineteen year olds, a married couple, outside in the chilly November morning, about to start dancing in their nightclothes. Then Lily gently guided him forward, and he no longer cared what anyone else might think.
He’d taken the lead, pulling her through the steps with him. Unfortunately, his dancing skills weren’t quite as suave as he’d thought. She had laughed lightly as she almost tripped over his feet when he attempted to turn too soon.
“Maybe you should let me lead.” She’d told him breathlessly, her eyes sparkling.
“That wouldn’t be very gentlemanly.” He was only slightly embarrassed. She probably was a better dancer than him. But he had another trick up his sleeve, and he’d need to be leading to pull it off properly.
He could hear the rest of the school behind them, laughing and whispering as they watched. He tuned them out; focusing on the beautiful redhead whose hand rested on his back, who was close enough for him to smell her perfume.
“Your dancing hasn’t improved much,” she commented, giggling.
It was the giggling that threw him off. Lily didn’t giggle. He’d never once heard her giggle. At least not like that- not girlishly, like some entranced pre-teen. He took a misstep, and almost fell over.
His foot had caught on something, and he stumbled, accidentally stepping on her feet. She pulled back instinctively and lost her balance. She tumbled over backwards, and he fell on top of her, mortified. For a moment they both lay on the ground; she stared up at him, her green eyes startled.
Oh blazing hippogriffs, that was not supposed to have happened. He was going to murder Sirius. And Remus too, for good measure. Stupid Moony, reading things in books that should never be mentioned in real life. Stupid Padfoot, talking his friend into humiliating himself and the girl he loved in front of the entire school.
“I’m so sorry,” he said quickly, rolling over and scrambling to his feet. He offered her a hand.
She laughed and accepted it, allowing him to lift her to her feet. “I think you’re a better flier than dancer.”
“Probably,” he agreed, with a growing grin. “No hard feelings, though, right?”
“None,” she told him, her lips curving into a smile. Stepping closer, she looked up into his face. “I enjoyed it. But you missed the last step. It goes like this.”
She kissed him.
He loosened his grip on her waist, determined to get the move right this time. She tilted her head at him, curious.
“Ready?” he whispered. Without waiting for an answer he grasped her sides and lifted her into the air, spinning in a circle. Her gasp and clear laughter rang through the morning air. Grinning, feeling immensely satisfied with himself, he lowered her back to the ground, setting her gently on her feet.
Still laughing, she leaned into him. “That was impressive.”
He pulled her to him, running one hand through her long red hair as he grinned down at her. “Impressive? Me? Now I really wish I’d pulled that off before.”
Another giggle escaped her. “What, the kiss wasn’t enough for you?” She somehow managed to jab an elbow into his stomach playfully without loosening their embrace.
“I was shocked, when you kissed me.” he murmured to her. “I didn’t know until then you actually liked me back.”
Laying her head into the crook between his neck and shoulder, she sighed, “Neither did I.”
They were silent for a minute. Then she spoke. Her voice, so quiet he could barely hear it, teemed with love, passion, and joy. “James, I’m pregnant.”
He froze. His hand paused, entangled in her hair. She drew back a little, casting her eyes up at him. At first he couldn’t make sense of it. The words tumbled around in his brain. Pregnant. Pregnant meant baby. Baby meant- “You mean I’m going to be a father?”
“Yes,” she breathed. To his surprise, her eyes were filling with tears.
“Lily, don’t cry. It, it’ll be fine. I-you-we-” he fumbled for an answer, still trying to process what she had just said.
“I know, James.” A tear slipped down her cheek, but she was smiling. “I’m happy, James, I… I’m so happy.”
Then it clicked. James realized what it meant. Lily was pregnant. She was going to have a baby. His baby. Their baby. She was happy. And so was he.
“Me too, Lily.” He clasped her to him, holding her tightly. “I’m happy, too.”