He wasn't supposed to be here tonight.

At least, he hadn't told her he was coming.

She hadn't seen him come in, either, but none of that prevented her from instinctively knowing precisely who had just come up behind her. Was standing so close she could feel his breath on her shoulder. Had just placed a hand on the small of her back.

Since when did that happen?

"You look good."

Lily heard the smile in his voice and matched it with one of her own.

"Only good? I was rather hoping for better than that."

Did they normally flirt this much, or was the champagne heightening her awareness? Worse still, was the champagne responsible for her loose tongue? She was too distracted by his warmth and his smell and the electricity crackling where, fucking hell, his fingers were tracing lazy circles on her back.

"What are you doing here, James? You never come to these things."

Here tone wasn't at all accusatory, James obliged her curiosity by leaning in, further than what was strictly necessary—not that she was complaining—and whispering conspiratorially, "If you must know, I heard a rumor that a pretty girl was going to be here."

"Oh. And?"

"The gossips were wrong, of course, as per usual."

She scoffed, just as he knew she would, just as he hoped she would. He laughed.

"Alright, then, more than good. I'll admit to three, perhaps four solid minutes of staring before I came up to you."

"That good?"

"Mhm."

James, facing her profile, noted her flaming cheek and mouth turned up at the corner, but she didn't turn to face him, and she didn't say anything. He hoped he hadn't crossed a line. They flirted, yes, but never this outrageously. But it was true—she was beautiful. Gorgeous, really.

He didn't want to take it back.

He didn't have to, turns out, because Lily surprised him with a confession of her own, perhaps as a reward for his own honesty.

"You look good, too, you know."

It was his turn to scoff. "You haven't even turned to see me yet."

"Didn't have to, James. I've seen you in dress robes before."

"That was last year. I didn't realize you were paying attention then."

"Well, I was."

"Fair enough."

He'd made his mind up about something, Lily could tell. Barely a moment passed and James reached across her with his free hand to relieve her of her goblet. As he set it on the table beside him, it was more statement then question that he spoke into her hair.

"So, are you ready to dance?"

"With you? Absolutely."

They held each more closely than the moment called for, paid no mind to the stares, the tempo of the song they'd begun swaying to, or anything, really, but the immediacy of this long, long overdue moment.

It was all tingling hands and stuttering heartbeats and warm breaths. Damn it to hell, was this what they had been missing?

James, who was going to burst if he didn't do something to relieve the tension, but not quite trusting himself to speak, started to spin Lily in wide circles. She played along.

Soon, they were performing a ridiculous, exaggerated waltz on the outskirts of the dance floor. They were poking fun at the other dancers as much as at themselves, which was all for the better—taking each other too seriously was more than either of them could handle, just at the moment.

When James spun her out and back again, she exclaimed him a madman. When he dipped her, the room spun more than she liked, and for more than one reason.

"No more dips, please, all right?"

"Too much champagne?"

She nodded.

" Drinking too much at a school function?"

She nodded solemnly and brought their entwined hands upwards so she could poke his chest.

"Yes! I'm of age," she defended. "Anyway, it's all your horrible influence."

"You're sure it's me who's corrupted you, not the other way around?"

His wore a well-practiced expression of utmost innocence, one she'd seen many times as he was trying to weasel out of various punishments. She knew what he was doing, and damn if it wasn't working. Her lip twitched and broke into a grin despite her best efforts.

"Alright. Your influence isn't that terrible."

"Thank you. I finally get the credit I deserve. You are rather crazy about me, you know."

He'd said things like this before, teasingly, about her fancying him, and she could brush it away with a laugh and an eye roll. She had done just that on numerous occasions, but this…this was different. They'd been skirting around this question, this moment, for months.

He'd done the brave thing by asking the question, she could follow suit, couldn't, she, and lay her cards on the table? She cocked her head slightly, and allowed a smirk—the one she'd learned from him.

"Finally figured that out, did you? Not too bright for top of our year."

"I'm brilliant," James smiled. "Just a bit of an idiot sometimes. Only took me three months to figure it out."

She buried her head into his shoulder, shaking her head as she muffled into his robes, "Four. Four months."

"Four?"

"Yeah, that I was aware of. Probably a bit longer than that, though. I've been an idiot, too."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She tilted her head back to look him in the eye again.

"A million reasons, all of them complete rubbish."

His gaze didn't waver—she knew he was expecting her to elaborate.

"We were mates," she continued, "It wasn't my place. I thought you didn't fancy me anymore. I didn't want to be a prat and ruin everyth—"

"I wouldn't have minded, you know."

"But I didn't know that, and I can't undo it. Besides, we're here now."

"Yes. We are." He didn't bother editing the grin that split his face. "And now we know the truth."

"Do we?"

"Yes, of course. The truth, Evans, is that you find me devastatingly gorgeous…"

"…tolerably handsome..."

"…brilliant…"

"…occasionally clever…"

"…charming…"

"…unfairly charismatic…"

"…mysterious…"

"…obnoxiously enigmatic…"

"…witty…"

"…alright, yes. You have a special talent for making me laugh."

James was satisfied with this until she added, as if she couldn't help herself—and really, she couldn't.

"Even if your jokes are dead awful sometimes."

"You always preface your compliments with a cutting adjective. Why must you wound me?"

She put a placating hand on his check. "Now James, if I start throwing compliments at you, you might die of shock. Your head would explode. You would be—"

"Flying without a broomstick? You're in my arms, love, I already am."

"You did not just say that. Ponce."

"I did just say that, and it's true. Awful, but true."

"Thank you for proving my point for me, by the way."

"I aim to please. But you aren't going to be good for my ego at all."

"When have I ever? If it helps, I'm crazy about you, all the same."

"Immensely. Crazy about you, too, you know."

"I do now."

At this, what little space had existed between them vanished completely as her arms went around his neck and both his hands pulled her into a tight hug. Lily eventually broke the silence.

"Do you want to get out of here?"

"Can we leave this soon? We've only had one dance."

"I can't be sure, but I think it's been seven or eight songs. I think our spectators would be relieved if we left, actually. Mostly, James, I refuse to let our first snog be in Slughorn's office."

"Snogging in a corridor is better?"

"Isn't it?"

"Let's go."