Jily oneshots

A Winter's Tale

by yellowbright on fanfiction.net

It all started innocently enough. A small white lie, a bid to save face. Who hadn't committed such a sin? Who among us hadn't fibbed, just a bit, to our best friend slash adopted brother whose mission in life was to irritate him beyond belief?

To err was human. To forgive, divine.

(Something his father often said when he was in trouble with his mother.)

(It never worked.)

Sirius had been on one, as usual, proselytising at length about how his relationship with Remus was so "fulfilling" and "exhilarating" and "you wouldn't understand, Prongs, being so out of the dating loop"; a monologue delivered largely to meet the dual goals of delighting Euphemia and annoying James, goals he met with room to spare. Euphemia had made a series of cooing noises as she prepared dinner, and James had felt his blood pressure steadily rise. All in a day's work for Sirius Black.

That was when it had slipped out. He wasn't sure how—it was possible that he had lost consciousness for a moment—but he'd found himself telling the assembled hordes (or, his parents and Sirius) that, actually, he did have a girlfriend, thank you very much.

"You're a fucking liar." Sirius was smirking, that annoying expression he had when he knew full well that he was winding James up—knew full well and was enjoying every second of it. "Just admit it."

"It's not a lie."

"Says the liar."

"I'm not a fucking liar!" James lied in return.

"James," Euphemia frowned over the top of her glasses, a standard motherly glare that he was entirely used to by now. She should have realised that it had stopped working back when he was ten years old. "Language!"

Sirius' smirk only deepened as James let out an affronted gasp. "He swore first!"

"And if he jumped off a bridge, would you do that too?" his mum asked primly.

"Probably," Sirius said, leaning back against the kitchen counter. "He's always been a follower, Phie."

"Piss off," James grumbled.

"It's okay to not have a girlfriend," Sirius continued blithely. "Nothing to be ashamed of. Just because you haven't dated anyone since Lissa—"

"I know there's nothing to be ashamed of," he said, feeling his cheeks heat with something like stress or embarrassment. It felt right to just double down, commit to the lie. He could worry about the repercussions later. (A classic approach to problem solving which had served him very well so far in his life.) "Doesn't change the facts."

"Alright," Sirius grinned, and that was when James realised he'd been led into a trap, the kind where you plummeted down a deep, dark hole only to get mangled and your remains had to be sent to your family in several small boxes. "Great! She'll be coming to the Christmas Eve party then?"

Well, bugger. Both Fleamont and Euphemia turned at that, their little faces lit up like children about to open their presents around the tree. He could hardly break their hearts now, could he? "Um," he said, wisely, eyes darting briefly to Sirius' smirking face, "yes, of course."

"Oh, lovely," Euphemia beamed, closing the distance between them to pinch his cheeks. "I thought you'd lost your mojo, darling, after what happened with Lissa—that woman, honestly—but this is wonderful!"

"Mojo?" James cringed, looking for help to his father, who merely shrugged with a smile. "Mum, that's—"

"Horrifying?" Sirius supplied. "Disturbing? Borderline child abuse?"