Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Cigarettes, By Ron Lover6789

She'd always wondered why there was such crackling electricity between them. She used to find it bothersome and irritating, but she wasn't so sure now. It was still slightly bothersome, but in a different way. It was bothersome how her heart raced when she laughed with him. It was bothersome when she had a compelling urge to mess up his hair. It was bothersome when she was so nervous around him all she could think to do was be coy.

So, as one could easily predict, she found herself in quite a situation. There was certainly chemistry between them that was curiously palpable. When they fought, it was so passionate the moon hid at night and the lake surface trembled. When they kissed fiercely in secret, days afterward their cheeks blushed scarlet and all the cream in the kitchens curdled. They did almost everything in extremes: tear shedding altercations, belly-laughing conversations, and sweltering twilight meetings. When they were together, it was unbearable to be near them just because of their intensity.

That isn't to say, however, that they didn't have lighthearted moments. Perfectly contrary, they'd joke and tease quite as much as the next pair of adolescents.

It was positively simple for her to think about loving him. She knew he was everything she ever needed. Where he was a free-spirit and extraverted, she was quieter and thoughtful. There wasn't much of a question of interest; she knew he had feelings for her. Even still, she found herself stopping, pretending to be mysterious and denying herself what she truly wanted.

There was a certain façade she kept up for everyone: tough, cheeky, and funny. That's what most people knew of her. Not many knew she had a softer, sweeter side. One can have as many sides as she needs to satisfy her own mind.

She reminisced about a night when he asked her why she always pulled away when he kissed her. "I like to keep you on your toes." She had replied. That was partly true; another, subconscious voice told her it was because she needed to be in control. She had pushed that fleeting thought away at the time, and leaned in to kiss him once more before she ran off again.

She was baffled that he continued to let her do this. She figured they would have a little fun a few times and he would move on, preferring to spend time with his other, less mysterious friends. Some people might call her a tease, but she favored the term "complicated and enigmatic." Perhaps it was a little bit of both.

So, as Lily Evans leaned against a wall on the tallest tower, the breeze frigid against her thin cloak, she pondered why she did these things to herself. The way her mind worked maddened even her sometimes. She reached into her pocket and grasped a half-empty pack of cigarettes, a routine of sorts. She methodically lit her lighter a few times as the wind teasingly blew it out and managed to catch the paper of the cigarette alight. Inhaling the intoxicating clove and tobacco mixture, Lily gazed to the heavens. The sky appeared to be asleep, most of the stars dim. The moon shimmered in the lake's reflection, a friendly wave to her with nothing but these unfriendly thoughts to keep her company.

Lily exhaled, the grey smoke billowing out of her mouth. Her father would kill her if he knew she had been smoking. This thought occurred to her grimly, even as she raised the cigarette to her lips. She pushed it away quickly, hating the small blossom of guilt in her chest. As her thoughts strayed away to a certain bloke, she heard the door open and close. Partially concealed by the shadows, Lily hoped no one would see her, but knew otherwise.

A handsome, black haired young man leaned against the wall next to her, following her cigarette with his eyes. "Hey," James said quietly, glancing up at the stars fleetingly.

She glanced over at him as she tried to light another cigarette. "Hi."

He rifled in his own pocket for a moment and pulled out a pack similar to hers. His was slightly more crumpled. He flicked one out and lit it. "I didn't know you smoked, too."

Lily paused for a moment. "Yeah," she mumbled. She was too tired to think of something cleverer, and he seemed to be rather exhausted as well. They both inhaled deeply. "I'm sorry about what I said this morning. I didn't mean any of it." She cringed inwardly as she remembered the fiery insult-throwing debacle.

He gazed at her guilty expression. "It's all right. And I'm sorry, too. I was a git."

"Yeah, you were," She said lightly. "But I was a brat, so we're even."

He smirked. "All right."

They stayed in an easy silence, and Lily lit yet another cigarette. Her hands shook very slightly and she felt that jittery, nervousness swell inside her. It happened almost every time she was around him and she was beginning to think, no matter how much time they spent together (doing entirely innocent things or otherwise), it wasn't going to go away. He observed her antics curiously.

"Why are you chain-smoking?" He asked, tearing her away from her thoughts.

"Because you make me so fucking nervous I could burst," She replied truthfully. Perhaps it was the exhaustion that made her answer him so completely positively.

"I do?" He asked with an amused tone in his voice. She kept her eyes on the moon.

"Yeah, as a matter of fact, you do."

"Well, I haven't the faintest why. You have nothing to be nervous about."

"You say that as if you do." She turned her head to look at him and quirked an eyebrow.

"Well, I am in love with you." He pointed out. Perhaps his exhaustion was what made him answer so truthfully as well.

Her heart caught, but her tone didn't betray her. "No you're not," she scoffed.

"Maybe I am."

"If you are, that's awfully stupid of you," she said.

"And why is that?" He asked, challenging her.

"Because I'm the worst person in the world to be in love with," She said, throwing down her cigarette butt and stepping on it. She turned and found him looking at her.

"Even so," he said.

The whole conversation had been so casual it seemed like it hadn't even happened. But Lily, as she got into bed when it was nearing daybreak, would frequently look back on that exchange on top of the highest tower at Hogwarts. She would forever remember the taste of the cigarettes, the brush of his stubble against her chin, and the way he had looked at her when he said it. She needn't wonder if he meant it. She knew he did.

A.N. So there I was, trying really hard to work on Introvert and suddenly I had a flash of a tough, smoking Lily and secret rendezvous between she and James. I really love how this came out. I'm surprisingly proud of it.