Jily oneshots

A House Call

done by AshenMoon42 on fanfiction.net

"Someone needs to go and speak to Potter again."

Constable Lily Evans sighed and rested her head against the rim of her mug, as if it would hide her from the vengeful Inspector.

"He had another party and the neighbours are complaining. Evans?" He looked around, gaze passing over every other constable until resting on what could be seen of her face past the mug.

She raised her head, trying to school her features to give a professional impression rather than one of loathing. "Yes, Inspector?"

Inspector Slughorn's moustache bristled as he spoke. "I want you there within the hour."

Wincing internally, Lily nodded. "Of course, sir."

She downed the last of her coffee, straightened her chequered tie, and stood from her seat, snatching up her walkie-talkie as she turned for the door. She gave the warm office a last longing glance before stepping out into the cold and making for the car park, spitting scathing comments about James Bloody Potter as she walked.

Of course the car got stuck in traffic on the way, and of course she couldn't put the siren or the lights on, however powerful it made her feel because this isn't an emergency, Evans.

Of course it's not an emergency. It's only James Bloody Potter and whoever of his ilk are left after last night's drug-induced havoc, breath still stinking of expensive wine and wearing stained shirts that would cost thousands of pounds to buy. Why was Lily so desperate to arrive anyway? Slughorn wouldn't care if she ran over the hour. In fact, she doubted he'd notice at all, but all she wanted was to be off this probationary period to leave and specialise in anything but the soporific domestic peace-keeping her job had been limited to for the past year. The only way to do that, she supposed, was to succeed with flying colours for another year and shock even the unshakeable Chief Superintendent McGonagall into giving her the promotion to Detective Sergeant.

"C'mon," she hissed to the steering wheel. "I could kill whoever created the bloody M25."

James Potter was the lead singer of the Marauders, a boy band which had been every British ten-year-old's obsession for the past two years. With dashing good looks, voices like bad boy angels and blinding interview smiles, they were presented as so, so perfect. So bloody infuriatingly perfect. Not to mention repetitive.

In the year since she had become a constable, Lily had been called out to James Bloody Potter's mansion just outside of the city no less than seven times for his raucous parties. She swore again even thinking about it.

By the time she reached the celebrity's house, her scathing comments had turned to nothing but strings of curses and a strand of red hair had fallen from her bun. She slammed the fluorescent car door behind her before stopping and berating herself for the display of anger and taking a deep breath.

Lily trudged down the driveway, putting her hat back on and tucking that strand of hair underneath it. She resisted the urge to kick at a perfectly groomed bush as she walked.

Her knock may have expended more force than she would use on any other house call and was answered in seconds. The man at the door was instantly recognisable as another member of the band: the heartthrob of the group, Sirius Black. For once his eyes were free of eyeliner, and his hair was unbrushed (but still, Lily noticed to her frustration, perfect). He stood in the doorway in a pair of ratty pyjamas, fluffy slippers on his feet.

"Oh," he said, voice hoarse. "Hey."

"I'm Constable Evans and I've been called this morning to talk to James Potter?"

He brushed a strand of long black hair from his face. "You?"

She frowned, dumbfounded. "What?"

"You're Evans?"

"Yes."

He made a face. "It's always the gingers with James." Before she could say something in return, he turned to face the house and yelled: "There's a police officer for you, James! Get your arse out of bed and get down here!"

"So," Lily said. "Party last night?"

He spun to face her. "Nah."

She eyed the bags beneath his eyes and his unkempt look. "Really?"

"Uh-huh. Just the four of us."

"Any drinking going on?"

"Nothing more than a pint each."

She couldn't quite imagine the four celebrities having a normal night in. Then again, she'd never imagined Sirius Black facing a member of the public in nothing but flannel pyjamas, but here he was in front of her. Shouldn't she be starstruck? Shouldn't she be honoured to stand on the doorstep of a house containing the entire of the Marauders? If anything, this was disappointing.

James Potter came down the stairs at that moment, looking a little less normal than Black in a My Little Pony t-shirt and some boxer shorts. And glasses. When he saw her, he flushed bright red, eyes widening, suddenly trying to cross his arms over his chest to hide his choice in fashion.

Oh, how she wanted to tease him for it. But she hid her smile and stayed professional. "James Potter."

"Uh, hi."

"We've had reports of loud music and screaming coming from this house last night. Again. Have you anything to say on the matter? Inappropriately raucous parties without telling inhabitants of the surrounding neighbourhood? We've warned you before."

He was blushing brighter now. "It wasn't a party."

"How do you explain the reports then?"

He stuttered. "I… well…"

Sirius chose that moment to rest his head on James's shoulder and say, "It's movie night."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "Movie night. What were you watching?"

James opened his mouth but Sirius beat him to it. "Mamma Mia."

She stared for a moment. "Loud music and screaming?"

"Exactly."

She began to laugh. Potter was blushing redder than a tomato now, reaching up and adjusting his glasses self-consciously. Sirius had joined in with the ugliest laugh Lily had ever heard, and it was so normal—laughing with a pop star—that she wondered about her sanity.

"Mamma Mia," she choked out. "See you next time, Potter, Black."

As she turned towards the car, she heard a murmur of: "Why the hell did you tell her about Mamma Mia, Black? She's gonna think we're stupid!"

"Speak for yourself, Potter. You should see the colour of your cheeks."

This time, Lily found herself hoping the Marauders would have another party (or sing-along) soon.