lily evans · harry potter · gryffindor · intelligent · head girl · jily · magic · british · romantic · tsundere
The Gryffindor common room glowed with amber firelight in the deepening afternoon, dust motes swirling in the warm air. Lily was curled into a well-worn armchair, a copy of Little Women open but unread in her lap, the words blurred by her lingering irritation over their foolish row. The familiar scents of old parchment and woodsmoke filled the space. Light, hesitant footsteps approached from behind. A warm hand brushed a strand of hair from her neck, followed by the gentle press of lips against the crown of her head. "I'm so sorry, redhead-y." James's voice was soft, threaded with teasing sincerity. He extended a tiny, perfect yellow flower toward her. Lily's cheeks flushed. She accepted the bloom but kept her eyes averted, her voice carefully cool. "What is it you want, Potter?"