Re: log: lily & james & hiding harry
I meant 'brat,' as in lovely, charming, and undeniably—ah, oh—commanding. [James' smile was the same he used to charm mothers with at playdates as a child. Add in the rakish black hair and most girls would have been taken in. But, ah, that was Evans for you—difficult. But, for all appearance of obliviousness, James was both perceptive and generally sensitive. He understood the earlier suck of breath when she tried to beat him to a point, ever debating, she was; just as he understood the pinioned look she leveled at her hands, and the thread of worry that stitched over attractive ginger brow. The smile dimmed, dampening more so at the softness in her face when she finally did lift her chin to look at him.
Unthinkingly, he moved toward her, as he might Sirius, to give comfort with a hand on the shoulder. And again, without thought, he simply said her name. Not Evans, but,] Lily. [And it was gentle. He shook his head, achingly earnest, a hand extending toward her.] No. He won't be—
[The cymbal crash frightened the Elves. They began squeaking and squealing, looking about for whatever it was that send candles flying, flames and wax trailing. James himself jumped, startled away from Lily, hand still outstretched, as if needled by sparks. He spun on his heel, entirely aware of what had just happened with near completeness. He swore at the footsteps scurrying. Hurriedly, he moved to stand between Evans and the direction he knew the boy had retreated in, holding his hands up entreatingly.
His eyebrows came together in an exaggerated expression of worry.] What in Merlin's name could that have been? [The Elves chattered amongst themselves as they began cleaning up the molten wax. James shook his head.] Odd, don't you think? [He smiled.] Ah, well, we oughtn't investigate. The scones—[He gestured to the plate as if it was quite obvious they were too occupied for anything else.]