We Were Bound | james potter

t w e n t y f i v e

chapter 25

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lost cause
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Sirius Black found it incredibly offensive that Peter Pettigrew was one week older than him.

Why couldn't the git wait at least two more weeks to come pushing his way out of his poor mother's womb? It would have probably done him some good anyway, he even mentioned one time that he was born prematurely. It was as if he was born earlier just to spite Sirius.

That means that currently, Sirius was sulking like the natural-born dramatic that he was, a drink in his right hand and his left hand finding solace in the sleeping werewolf's hair that was passed out on his lap. It was considerably rude of Remus to sleep through the entirety of Peter's birthday party, and Sirius wasn't sure he loved him more than he did at that moment.

And Lily Evans could argue that she had never been more frustrated than she was at that moment.

Because both Faeryn and James were sitting on opposite sides of the common room drinking away their sorrows as they so obviously looked longingly at each other for the whole night.

And they still both had the audacity to deny even the concept of the other one returning their fancy. They were both overdramatic self-deprecating sods, and Lily Evans would have none of it.

Okay, more like she would try to have none of it. Because she had spent a good amount of the previous two months trying to get even the slightest amount of self-confidence ingrained into James' dull brain in an attempt to talk him into confessing his affections.

At first, he had tried to explain why it was so impossible that Faeryn would ever see him as more than a friend, and when Lily would have counterpoints for each argument he attempted to make, he would just sigh like a love-sick fool and sulk the rest of the day in denial.

Then when she realised James would be a lost cause, she switched her efforts to focus on Faeryn, who was more annoying than James, honestly. For she would just wave her hand and laugh it off, because for no apparent reason, the idea of James Potter returning her fancy was only one thing, laughable. And then when Lily had cornered her and attempted to tell her that it was in fact very plausible for him to like her, she gave a very terrible reason for why it just wasn't true, (it was a very good reason and honestly if Lily were in her shoes she would think the same thing.)

Her reasoning was that 'If James Potter even had any interest in me, I would know. He practically shouts all of his feelings to the great hall every morning. Potter is a very public person, if he fancied me he would have spelled it out in fireworks or something.'

And very similar to James, Faeryn slumped into the chair she was inhabiting and spent the rest of the day brooding over the fact that James Potter hadn't spelled all of the portraits to sing her sonnets.

That day was the day Lily determined that James Potter and Faeryn Lupin were perfect for each other.

But as she sat in between Rowan's legs in front of the fire as Brussel sprouts (out of all possible vegetables, why Brussel sprouts?) flew around their heads, she was really questioning her never-ending need to get them together. Because at that point, if they were meant to be, it would happen naturally, right? Lily refused to find out though, and it may have been the alcohol thrumming through her veins, or the feeling of Rowan's clumsy hands running through her hair, or maybe it was the burn of the opened mouth kisses she was leaving all over the back of her neck, but she made a promise to herself, well, technically it was a promise to herself, Faeryn, and James.