Written for jily secret santa over on tumblr.

It is a hot day, too hot for a Marauder like James Potter to possibly bear sitting in a lesson like History of Magic all morning. Especially not with the sunlight streaming through the open windows, the lack of breeze in the room, and his lingering thought of the day: where is Lily Evans?

Lily Evans lies, unbeknownst to James, under the shade of the beech tree where the Marauders once sat. She has skipped class. She figures she can afford to – it is her last year at school, the Easter holidays start tomorrow, and she has a stellar attendance record. Binns certainly would not notice that there was one missing face from the bored crowd.

But James does notice. Looking back, she supposes that she should have known that he would find her. He is James Potter, is he not? The master of mischief, the Marauder. Lily knows about his magical map, but forgets in this summer-like moment, that she may be caught soon.

James Potter sits in his uncomfortable chair, in an uncomfortable classroom, uncomfortably wriggling the Marauders' Map out of his pocket. He mutters the words under his breath and no one sees except Remus, who rolls his eyes, and Peter, who slumps back onto his desk. Sirius is softly snoring, his hair swept elegantly across his forehead.

James scans the pages and his eyes are drawn to her name like a magnetic force has dragged them there. He smirks briefly. The Head Girl is not so innocent. So he figures, if she can get away with it, so can he.

He passes a note to Remus – Cover me, will you? – and sneaks the cloak over his head and torso, grabbing his bag and becoming invisible. Inaudibly, James gathers the cloak around him, and moves smoothly out of the room. Only a few people – those who are still awake – see these movements, but everyone is so used to his antics, they do not question him.

In the more spacious corridor, James breathes a sigh of relief to be out of that stuffy classroom. He shoves the cloak into his bag, constantly checking the map as he walks quickly towards the front door. No one seems to be around, and so he is free. Outside the castle, he smiles euphoric as he spots her.

Lily sits now, with her eyes closed against the bright sun that is unhindered by any clouds. She does not hear James as he approaches and smirks. She has been caught in the act. If you had asked Lily Evans a mere year ago if she thought James Potter would ever catch her skipping school, she would have personally accompanied you to the Hospital Wing.

"Well, well, well. Lily Evans, skipping school? I can hardly believe my eyes."

Lily's own eyes snap open. She is surprised, but not shocked. She always has a comeback for him. "Maybe you shouldn't, Potter. You do have some issues in the sight department."

His smirk grows into a grin as she motions for him to sit beside her. "I'm offended, Evans." he replies, "I'll have you know that my sight never fails me when it comes to you."

"Is that so, Potter? We'll see about that." Without warning, she snatches his glasses from his face and the world becomes blurry.

He groans. "Evans, you know my eyesight's crap. Give 'em back, yeah?" He makes a grab at where she was, but she has vanished.

He hears her instead, running around and giggling as he comes to his feet and swipes blindly in the air. "I'm going to catch you!" he shouts, and she laughs louder.

"Catch me if you can!" she yells, teasing.

James cannot see much at all, just the shapes of the trees, the lake, and the blurred line where the sky meets the grass in the horizon. He sees colours, the vibrant green of the grass, the shy pink of the flowers, the reflected blue of the lake and then – there. He sees it, a rapidly moving shape that is grey uniform, flushed skin and vivacious red hair. It's a giveaway and he pounces before she realises what he's doing.

He laughs triumphantly as they collide and begin tumbling down the slight slope, coming to a stop just by the lakeside. His glasses are tightly clenched in her hand, and her grip loosens as she comes to see that he is hovering above her, the smile fading from his face as she comes into focus. With this short proximity, even James can see her clearly.

Clearer than he's ever seen her before, he thinks, as he can count the freckles that spatter her nose and cheeks, and see the exact shade of pink that she has flushed. James Potter can see everything about Lily Evans here. He sees the emerald colour of her eyes, and the rosy tint of her lips that are now tempting him, willing him to lean his head in an inch further...

She does it for him, takes the first move. Tilting her head to the side, she catches his lips with her own and lets go of his glasses, pulling him closer with her daring hands. James smiles against her lips. They feel soft and perfectly shaped to his own. He kisses her harder, she makes a humming sound of delight and they break apart all too soon, resting their foreheads together. James savours this moment: surely she will come to her senses soon?

Instead of shouting at him, Lily starts to laugh. James frowns and hopes that it is not at his kissing skills. But she kisses the frown off his mouth and between his eyebrows and the creases vanish.

She explains. "I've been waiting to do that for ages."

He gapes at her, "But...but..." The frown returns, "I thought you didn't like me. I mean, I know we've been friendly this year, but still..."

Lily's eyebrows rise in disbelief, "Are you seriously telling me that you didn't notice all the hints I've been dropping? All the little 'Nope, no one's asked me to Hogsmeade, what about you, James?' and 'I've broken up with my boyfriend, he thinks I like someone else'?"

James squints at her, "Well, I guess I kind of just assumed that you would never like me."

"Like you?" she repeats incredulously, "James, I've been waiting for you to ask me out since October!"

"Oh." he says and their eyes lock. Lily is dazed by the hue of his eyes, the kaleidoscope quality that they have, changing from brown to hazel to gold and back, an ever changing beauty that normally hide behind his frames.

"Lily," he starts again, "Erm, will you..." He takes a deep breath. After all, he has not asked her out since he was last shot down in fifth year. Remembering this, his smirk reappears, but she is not apprehensive. She has come to love his smirk.

"Evans," he says, in a deep, attractive voice, "Go out with me?"