China Patterns

"Ow! That one hurt!"

James rubbed his steadily reddening hand while simultaneously glaring at the woman responsible for his pain, the recently-christened Lily Potter. ‘Women are not supposed to hit that hard, hard enough to make manly Quidditch players shriek in pain,’ James thought, wondering if perhaps Sirius' suggestion that Lily was part witch, part tiger was correct. Sure, he had been drunk at the time he had made said suggestion, but that was irrelevant...

"Well, that will teach you once and for all not to touch anything," Lily said, returning his glare with one of her own.

"You can't take me to a store filled with shiny, pretty things and expect me not to touch anything! And you were the one who told me to look," James added with a slight whine.

"Look with your eyes, not with your hands, James," Lily said, reciting the old adage her mother used to tell her daily. Lily had never expected to use it on anyone who wasn’t a very small child, but she figured that James, or at least his maturity level, was roughly the same as that of any 6 year old.

"Hands aren't for looking, Lily," James said in an exasperated voice, one which then lowered in volume and pitch, taking on a suggestive tone, "they're for touching..." He snaked one of his own around her waist.

"James," Lily said, moving out of his embrace purposefully (and, yes, a bit reluctantly), "shopping for china patterns is reserved for that activity only, and no other."

"Right...just like Head Boy and Girl duties are reserved to patrolling the halls, and no other?" James asked with a smirk.

Lily blushed. "One time, and it was only to shut you up."

"Well it worked then," James replied. "But what about now? Shouldn't you test it?"

"James," Lily said through gritted teeth, "China. Patterns. NOW."

"Fine," he replied sulkily, "although I don't even know why we have to do this. Magical china changes patterns with the flick of a wand, so you don't have to spend ages picking it out...time that could be well spent doing other things…." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Lily glared. "First of all, do try to develop a 2-track mind. Second of all, choosing a china pattern is a rather Muggle tradition and, as such, I would like to do it in a Muggle store."

"Why are we even doing this? My mom has loads of china she's looking to give away," James asked.

"Don't you want something that's uniquely us? A symbol of our love and union and all that other stuff? And isn’t this what newlyweds do, anyway?" Lily answered.

But Lily knew that that was not the real reason why she wanted to shop for china patterns. It was a distraction, a distraction from the Event, the Event that she didn't wish to talk about, think about, or ever acknowledge again.

James knew, but he played along, eager for a distraction himself. "I don't care what's on my plate as long as it's food. In fact, I don't even need the plate, just the food."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Yes, well, your best friend also drinks out of a toilet on occasion, so your etiquette leaves much to be desired."

"Fine," James scowled. He cast his eyes around for a pattern. "How about this one? It has flowers on it, and you’re named after a flower!"

"No!" Lily exclaimed. "No flowers on our plates, or our curtains, or our rugs. I've had to live with flowers on every item of clothing, toys, linen, etc. given to me over the years. Nothing flowery will be allowed in our house."

"I guess that means no lace teddy with embroidered flowers, then?" James asked.

Lily resisted the urge to smack him again. "No teddies at all."

James grinned widely. "So you'll be naked, then?"

Lily gave in to the urge and smacked him. "Don't say 'naked' in front of...the plates."

James stared at her.

"It's just that I equate the plates and other Muggle items with my parents, and it's weird to have you talk in such a manner in front of them!" Lily said, realizing she sounded a bit irrational and paranoid but not caring.

James nodded and smiled, having long since learned that that was what you did when your wife was acting crazy. "Sorry, er, Mr. and Mrs. Evans."

Lily sighed. "When will you start calling them by their first names?"

"When your father stops sending out those 'Who are you and why are you corrupting my child?' glares."

"Those aren't directed at you, James," Lily said, "only at Sirius. And what about my mother?"

"Well, still..." James said, "the glare is there and it scares me, and if I can't even mentally refer to your father by his first name, how can I verbally refer to your mother by hers?"

"You have a very strange mind," Lily said, not without affection, "and Godric knows what goes on inside that head that you never even mention. I pity the person who ever enters and finds out..." Lily trailed off, because entering minds recalled memories of someone who could, and had, and had done other things, and the Event...

James sensed her unease. "Err...look! Yellow plates! How about those?"

Lily forced back the wave of memories. "No. Yellow plates are too bright and not okay in my book."

"Hmm…is this the same book in which you recorded all of the embarrassing childhood stories you know about me for blackmail? Or the one in which you wrote down all the people you dislike, which I also featured heavily in?" James mock-pondered.

"There's just the one book, you know," Lily said, "and it is a part of me, and since you married me, you have to deal with the book."

"Then *you* have to deal with the unfinished 'Marauder's Guide to Making Professors Cry' Sirius and I started." James insisted.

"No, because that's yours and Sirius', and to accept that fully would be to marry both of you, and that's not legal..." Lily was suddenly aware of what she was saying. "Potter! Stay on topic! China. Patterns!" She directed him towards one side of the store while she looked in the other, secretly glad for his ramblings and their distracting nature. He was so good at making her laugh, even during the darkest times, even after the Event...

Lily wandered over to a display of less conventional dishes- not white with patterns but different colours, blues, and greens and a deep, rich red...

Red, like blood...Lily's blood...James' blood!...spilling all over, everywhere, hand too slippery to hold the wand, but if she didn't, she would die, James would die…Lily would not let some evil snake take James...but those eyes, horrible red like the blood...

Lily still wasn't entirely sure how she and James had escaped that night, but they did. Later on she lay in St. Mungo's, sneaking peeks at James' sleeping form from under the sheets, where she was supposed to be sleeping, constantly reassuring herself that, yes, he was all right, and of course he‘s breathing, see? But she knew, knew without having to hear Sirius' exaggerated laugh, or see Remus' strained smile, or feel Peter's trembling fingers while he patted her back in a vain attempt at reassurance...knew that Voldemort did not like it when his chosen victims escaped, and he would come after her, and James, with a frightful vengeance...they were as good as dead.

"Lily? Liiiillly…Lily! Are you okay?" James' voice asked from behind her.

Lily jumped slightly at the voice and turned to face its owner. "I'm fine," she said, adding a "really" when his frown did not disappear.

"Are you sure? Because we can leave...And I'm not just saying that because if I don't smash one of those delicate, blown-glass plates soon I might go mad..." James asked, worry still evident in his voice.

Lily smiled. "No, I'm fine..."

"Good...is that the dish you like? The red one?"

Lily stared at it. "Uhh..."

"Because I like it! It's a Gryffindor color, and I don't care if we are out of school, I still have my house pride and do *not* mock me for it." James said, examining the plate in her hand.

Lily looked it over, too. James was right...it was a Gryffindor color. And he was a Gryffindor, and so was she. She was brave, and strong, and would *not* let Voldemort hurt the ones she loved. She would *not* let him kill and torture the innocent, would *not* let him exert his reign of terror over the world.

There were things worth fighting for, and people worth dying for. She glanced at James, who was still examining the dish and humming a tune that Lily recognized as a song Remus and Peter had made up to sing during Quidditch matches in 3rd year.

"What?" James asked, seeing her stare at him. "When I think of Gryffindor that song comes to mind, and I have to hum it. It’s a reflex, like when Sirius always tries to trip me before meetings, and I always somehow fall."

Lily felt a wave of emotion wash over her- a love so powerful, she hadn’t known she was capable of feeling such a strong emotion. Maybe she couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when she had decided that James did, in fact, have a soul, maybe she couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when she became aware of the true threat of Voldemort to wizard and Muggle kind alike, but she knew that years later she would be able to pinpoint the exact moment when she decided that no matter what, she would fight Him, and protect the people most important to her. ‘Hopefully,’ Lily thought, ‘I’ll be alive to look back on this moment.’

James, after having carefully scrutinized the dish and matching cups and humming through 2 verses of the Quidditch song, smiled and said, "Can we take this one, Lily? Please? I want our children to eat from authentic Gryffindor plates." Lily smiled at the image of her, James, and a bespectacled, messy haired boy sitting around a table set with red plates, while the males hummed a very familiar tune and Lily rolled her eyes in mock exasperation.

‘I rather like that image,’ Lily thought. What she said, though, was "Fine. I like them too."

"Yippee! I’ll go tell the store clerk!" James sped off in the direction of the front of the store. And when he returned a few minutes later, accompanied by a disgruntled store clerk and carrying the remains of a large crystal dish decorated with flowers, oddly enough, Lily didn’t berate him at all. She just smiled, shook her head, told the store clerk that they would take the matching plates and cups and the crystal dish, and told James that, no, he would not have to sleep on the couch tonight and, yes, she did still love him.

More than he would ever know, in fact. More than she had ever known she could, and Godric help her, she would fight Voldemort and keep him from James, and their friends, and her parents, and everyone and everything else she cared about. She had not dedicated herself to the Light just to run away screaming after her first encounter with true Darkness.

‘After all,’ she thought, ‘if James had the courage to ask me out even after I threatened him with castration, I can certainly face Voldemort.’

"Lily! Look at this tea service…it’s so shiny! It’s like a mirror, only without the rude and sometimes lecherous comments!"

‘Correction,’ thought Lily. ‘*We* can face him.’