A/N: Written for Fire The Canon's "50 Days of Inspiration Competition" over at HPFC.

Wrote this one in the present tense, as opposed to the last few chapters. Hope you enjoy it!

prompt: Day 30 injured

too much, not enough

3 November

Lily is drunk.

Teddy can tell that simply by the glassy look in her eyes. He doesn't need to smell the alcohol permeating off of her. He doesn't need to see the stain of spilled vodka on her shirt. It's just so obvious by the look-of her goofy smile and too-bright eyes.

"Lily, it's after hours. Get back to your dormitory."

Lily giggles, and Teddy's heart melts at the sound. She's been so dour lately, staring at her feet and barely raising her hand in class. "You think I'm a perfect prefect girl, don't you?" she asks, sauntering up to him in her too-short skirt and her too-unbuttoned blouse. She's entirely that – entirely too much.

Teddy can't help but roll his eyes at her words, though. She's close enough that if he tried hard enough, he could kiss her. She squints up at him, nearly begging him to. Oh, Merlin. Oh, Christ.

He smirks. "I knew you were trouble from day one, Potter. Never thought you were a perfect prefect." He pops his "p"s when he speaks. "An imperfect one, maybe."

She likes that, his sarcasm. She smiles, bites her bottom lip. He can't help it – he lets out a groan of frustration.

She's been teasing him like this all school year, trotting into his classroom with her skirt magicked to be an inch shorter than the rules allow. Of course, most of the girls do this, but she has to know what effect she has on him. There was one time she wore these long socks that ended just below her skirt and…

Oh, Merlin. Oh, Christ.

"I've got to tell you this, Professor," Lily says, biting that damned lip again and staring down at her shoes. They haven't been in private much since term began, but when they were, she never called him "Professor". Then again, he's never called her "Potter" until now. "I've got to tell you this because, as I'm sure you know, I'm drunk and sometimes I have to say things I'll later regret when I'm drunk."

This territory is dangerous, and Teddy knows it. He grabs Lily by her arms to get her to look him in the eyes and he's about to say, "Get back to your dormitory, Lily." Instead, she meets his gaze and he leans forward just a bit and bites that damned lip himself.

She groans against his lips, then pulls him to her as his arms fall to embrace her. She kisses him back, her tongue sliding against his lower lip, tasting as much of him as she can, and he tastes her back, relishing in the feel of her hands against his back and…

Oh, Merlin. Oh, Christ. He pulls away, missing the feel of her lips already. Anyone could walk around the corner at any moment. He's her professor. And she's drunk. And he's not.

And she's seventeen.

And he's twenty-eight.

"Shit, Lily."

She turns, looks at the wall, the ceiling, the floor – anywhere but him. "I just wanted to say that I love you," she chokes out, her cheeks bright red. She's the picture of innocence and demureness – though really he knows she is neither.

"I love you too," he says, because he owes her that, at least. "But I love you too much. We can't do this. I'm your professor."

She meets his gaze now, straightening her Slytherin green and silver tie. "No, you don't love me too much," she says, tears evident in her voice. "You don't love me enough."

And with that, she turns on her heel and runs down the hall and he doesn't chase after her because maybe she's right.

5 November

"It's just, I think it's stupid they only have a Yule Ball for the Triwizard Tournament. We should get to have fun like that more often."

"Oh, my God. You are so right."

"Well? Lily, couldn't you bring it up at the next prefect meeting?"

"I mean, I guess I could. It sounds like a good idea."

"Oh, and you know Max would be down with that. He'd probably ask to take you, even."

This is why Teddy normally doesn't assign textbook work – it leads to idle conversation. But this morning he has a raging hangover and his head is pounding too badly for him to even attempt to teach properly. Last night he took to his rooms to down an entire bottle of firewhisky – too much or not enough, he's unsure. It got him to sleep, though, which was a miracle. His thoughts were so filled with her.

Lily sits in the back of the classroom now, as opposed to her usual spot front and center. She laughs with a group of girls who want a Christmas dance. If Teddy didn't have a hangover – if I didn't love Lily, he thinks – he would walk up to those girls and demand that they get back on task. But he can't do that, no, because that would mean talking to Lily…

Lily, who apparently is going to get asked to the Yule Ball by Max.

It's like he's seventeen again, he realizes that night as he cleans up his rooms. There's a tumbler where there shouldn't be, a sticky stain of firewhisky gluing it to the table he left it on. It's like he's seventeen, and another boy just asked Victoire out, and goddammit, he is pissed.

But Lily is no Victoire. Oh, Merlin, she is not.

10 December

He has to chaperone.

He has to bloody chaperone.

Oh, Merlin. Oh, Christ.

21 December

She's drunk again, and Teddy wonders idly if her date – Max, the Head Boy – is drunk, too. But Lily is outside now, sans-Max, enjoying to magicked rose garden all by her lonesome.

He can see her, over here from his perch on the bench. He's escaped for a smoke and some fresh air to clear his head. Indoors, he could only glare jealously as Lily danced with Max and laughed with other boys. Here, he can smoke a cigarette and forget about her… Well, not anymore, since she's before him, a vision in white.

"Can I have a smoke?" she asks, sitting down next to him.

He should say no, but he doesn't. Teddy reaches for his pack, a Muggle brand, and hands Lily a cigarette. He lights it with his wand and she laughs at that trick like she's never seen it before – like he's some bloke she just met at a pub. Her laughter makes his heart do crazy things.

She exhales and holds her cigarette low in her left hand, resting the same hand on the cold stone bench. "Stuffy in there," she murmurs.

It's the first they've spoken since the kiss.

"Exactly why I'm out here."

They are silent for a moment until she says, her voice as honest as possible, "You know, I was so injured that night, when you blew me off. But I understand now, I really do."

He's flummoxed that she's brought it up, but nods. His head is spinning. Are her words affecting him so much? Or is it just the mead he shared with the professors earlier? "I meant everything I said, Lily. I love you. It's just…"

"It's impossible." She ashes her cigarette before inhaling again. "Do you think it'd be worth a try, though?" She cocks her head to the side, meeting his gaze with her soft green-brown eyes. When he doesn't respond quickly enough, she continues on. "It's just, you're nothing like Max or the other boys. You're not a boy at all, and… Well, I've loved you my whole life, really. Only now I'm brazen enough to act on it."

"I've loved you forever, too," Teddy answers, not caring how awful it all is. "And I've wanted you since that day I came to talk about the position with McGonagall and saw you with your bow and arrow." He smirks, remembering.

Lily shrugs. "I've wanted you longer."

"Wasn't aware this was a competition," Teddy says with another, deeper smirk, and then she laughs her glorious laugh and their cigarettes are forgotten, left burning on the cobblestone, and they kiss, and it's not enough and it's too much, but with the touch of her lips to his she kisses away all of his injuries and he thinks that maybe, just maybe, they can make this work.