Entry One: Last Night

James had been on high alert ever since Lily gave him that look. He’d woken up worried as usual, not knowing where he was, or what time, nor what duties might be needed of him once his head cleared; but then her face had been there. Once he had his glasses on, he saw that she had been watching his hand, resting on his bare chest, and that she was hungry.

Tea and toast were all very well, but everything about it signalled a different type of hunger. There had been no time to do more than exchange a handful of words and meaningful glances yet though, and he was on his third fruitless semi of the day. The joys of being – well, whatever it was they were these days.

The fireplace was lit and the mantelpiece adorned with the trinkets you pick up when you’re sentimental; his and hers and theirs. Wet black leaves plastered themselves on the centuries old windows to tell him he wouldn’t want to be outside, anyway. Big fat liars, those leaves. Half-sized shapes were moving out in the slippery cobble-stoned road despite the rain and the wind, and he squinted, trying to discern what they were.

Movement behind him and his heart dropped before he remembered they were quite safe.

“There you are!” she said with a purr, running towards him, index pressed to her lips and the bounce in her breasts the only thing he could think of until she’d jumped straight into his arms and pushed her hand into his shorts. Why he’d opted to dress up like a Puddlemere United player today was lost to the recesses of his mind as soon as realization hit he’d forgotten to wear underwear. Her touch had him weak in his knees and like the world’s worst quidditch player he fell to the ground with her legs wrapped deliciously around him and the hand that wasn’t teasing him to hardness pulling at the kinks in his untidy hair, both actions sending firebolts up and down his spine. They met and he moaned, mouth so full of her tongue and laughter he could’ve paused for all eternity here on their oaken sitting room floor.

“Is this more how you imagined tonight?” she asked, and he never even saw her touch her wand but the room spun and they were on fresh green grass, three hoops towering behind them into a sunny sky. Her thumb did a little figure of eight around his dickhead, her soft mouth touching his stubbled chin and her breath syncing with his increasingly laboured panting. James’s broom flew over from the corner, like a hopeful dog who’d heard the noise of its leash being handled.

It took him every ounce of self-control and perseverance he had to stagger to his feet, dumping his precious armful of redheaded sexiness on the broom and telling her with a wicked wave of his wand that this, actually, was how he’d imagined it.

Lily’s jumper and jeans disappeared, as did her underwear and socks. James had to grab himself when her breasts burst free, a guttural noise wiping away anything else he might’ve teased her with. Her smile was almost fragile, her eyes following his gaze when it caressed the new shape of her nipples and the web-like stretchmarks on her belly. She must’ve decided she liked what she saw in his eyes, because she reached out her hand to him and invited him in.

The weight of her breasts felt the same as ever and he had just lifted one to his mouth when she reigned him in with a finger in the neck of his Puddlemere shirt.

“Is it fair that you’re fully dressed and I’m sat here naked?”

James, whose quidditch shirt was halfway up his torso and shorts by his ankles, didn’t particularly feel fully dressed. With a flash of inspiration he remembered a trend he’d encountered in muggle transatlantic media. With a wave of his wand, Lily’s breasts were squeezed into a tight red top adorned with the Gryffindor lion and a short, ruffled skirt settled round her hips. Her hands held onto gold and red pompoms rather than his broom.

“Very appropriate, don’t you think?” James asked, meaning both the sporty setting and the day, pleased as punch he’d involved himself in muggle culture because Lily could not have looked any hotter than this. She was spreading her legs for him, a balancing act on the broom and he got down on the lush green grass, sun on his back and her most enticing centre so near that the smell of her made him salivate.

He licked up her slit, then kissed her deeply, tongue squiggling to get inside when there was a loud noise of children’s laughter.

Lily jumped over him like it was a game of leapfrog, and giggling she ran towards the window, which came into sharper focus amongst the green grass and the quidditch goals. From his vantage point he could watch her lean over the sofa to better look out, her plush, round behind peeking out from underneath the skirt.

“I levitated my old school cauldron out there, it’s full of sweets!” Lily told him excitedly without looking back, “since we can’t… you know…”

What James did know was that Lily had decided to put one foot on the sofa to lean closer to the windowsill. Like he had a new purpose in life, James began to crawl, shorts still awkwardly in the way and the grass leaving stains on his knees. Soon, he could stick his face back in between her legs.

Bubbling with laughter that made all her best parts bounce, Lily flung herself onto the sofa and James crawled up over the armrest, discarding his shorts while he kissed her feet, her ankles, her soft squishy thighs, her wonderfully tasty vagina, her freckled belly and the exposed underside of her breast.

“I needed you naked like five hours ago,” Lily whispered, pulling off his shirt and squeezing and caressing him all over his chest and back and arms, her mouth stumbling over his neck and chin and mouth.

They kissed deeply while he squirmed his hands into her top, the top he’d made to be so form fitting it shouldn’t’ve been possible. It wasn’t for long and he took them out, one by one, admiring each between kisses, filling his hands with them and then pinching her nipples in the way she used to love but now said she wasn’t sure anymore if she did, not after. But her fears were wrong, she clearly still did, and he grinned proudly at her when she moaned and writhed and slapped his bum with both hands to make him stutter and fall in love with her all over again.

He undressed her with awe, the backdrop of the quidditch pitch fading. The warmth from the fireplace and the smattering of rain from the windowpanes were hypnotizing.

She took his dick while he kissed her breasts and her neck, his mouth sloppy when she rubbed him slowly over her pubes and against her sticky wet folds. Up and down, over and over, almost slipping in and his tongue accidentally pushed into her ear.

“Stop tickling me!” she hissed, tickling him on his stomach and underneath his arms, making him gyrate and attempt to push himself inside.

“Only if you stop teasing me,” he groaned back, but she held all the cards, always had, in as sure a grip as she right now had his cock.

“Touch me here,” she breathed in his ear, using his dickhead to rub into her clit.

“So you do want to be tickled,” he said, but barely coherently because his lower belly was spasming threateningly and he had to get his hand there quick, first to stave off coming, then to get his thumb right there on her, right on her sweet little button.

She made the cutest little moans in his ear, then he was suddenly let into paradise. The warmth and wetness all around him, trying to thrust in the same rhythm he was rubbing her, same rhythm she was moaning her love of him, honey in his ear, their chests together and their hearts beating, all in the same rhythm.

Watching her come in his arms sent him over the edge immediately, red hot liquid down his spine and all inside of her.

Her moans stopped and his rubbing stopped, the thrusting stopped. Just their hearts continuing in the same rhythm.

“I think I’m done with Halloween,” James said a bit later, vanishing his discarded Puddlemere United costume and getting into his everyday clothes instead. Cramming his glasses back on his face, he watched Lily get dressed in her jeans and jumper, vanish her cheerleader outfit but not the pompons. She placed them on the mantelpiece, throwing him a last saucy look. Then she began staring out of the window.

“The kids must be mostly done with Halloween too,” she said wistfully. He could tell how much she hated not being able to participate properly. “All the sweets are gone from my cauldron. There are a few stragglers, though, look how cute! They’re dressed as pumpkins!”

James came to join her at the window, but he wasn’t particularly looking outside. He was smelling her hair and counting the winter-pale freckles on her nose. He hoped for everyone’s sake that by next Halloween, there would be no need for them to be under the Fidelius Charm.

A crying noise rang out and Lily hurried off, leaving him there. He stroked the broom guiltily, and it hummed annoyedly before flying back into the corner.

“Can you entertain him for a bit, I’m gonna go freshen up. He’s had too long a nap, bet he’ll be as cross as two sticks at bedtime.”

“As cross as two wands, you mean!” But Lily had already left the room.

“Your mother and her funny muggle sayings,” James told Harry affectionately as he held onto him with one hand and dug around between sofa cushions with the other for his wand. “I bet she’s reading all sorts of odd muggle bedtime stories for you behind my back. Aha!”

Triumphantly, James pulled out his wand and watched Harry try to reach it. He missed by quite some margin.

“Bet you’ll need glasses. But don’t worry, all the best people do.” Smiling lovingly into his son’s face, James made puffs of red and gold smoke appear from his wand. “Same colour as the pompoms,” James explained to Harry, who was attempting to clench his tiny fists around the smoke.

Outside, something that might’ve been the wind rustled the leaves on the path to the house.