Chapter Text
The trip from Ireland to Paris, along with the dizzying heat of mid-august Europe had given Lily the worst headache of her life, and the mess some stranger was making in her assigned room might as well have been her final straw.
She’d managed to keep her calm when the old man sitting next to her on the plane had spilled his coffee all over her and given her nothing but a cocky grin by way of apology. She’d barely batted an eye at the snoring behind her, but there was a limit to her composure.
“Why don’t you turn the beds over while you’re at it?” she spat at the stranger, who was desperately trying to plug his phone into the room’s only socket, “If you can even call those things beds.” She spared a glance at the carefully mounted pieces of cardboard and almost tore out her hair at the sight of the chaos taking over the room, which may as well have Single man-child written all over it.
The stranger instinctively got up at the sound of her voice, or maybe at the tone she’d used, and hit his head against the nightstand he was crawling under. Lily felt a kind of satisfaction hearing him grunt and scoffed, ignoring her teammates' pointed looks.
Most of them had gone and found their rooms already, but Mary and Marlene, who would share with Lily for the time of the Olympics, stood on each side of her, waiting patiently for her to kick the stranger out.
“Don’t knock yourself out too fast,” Lily teased as the boy finally stood up, looking a bit dizzy but functional in his bright green and yellow t-shirt, “We’re gonna need you to clean up this mess first.” She waved her hand at the clothes scattered on the sheets and the dumbbells of various sorts taking over the floor. With a tilt of her head, she let her ponytail fall over her shoulder and hoped that she looked smug enough to drive him out.
“Hi! I’m James Potter” the guy answered with a slight Brazilian accent, giving the three of them a smile too wide for the situation, “Is it a problem if the room is messy? Is it against the rules or something?” He scratched his head innocently and gave her an almost believable look.
“Are you doing this on purpose?” Marlene snorted. She’d leaned against the door frame and crossed her arms, looking every bit the arrogant setter people knew her as.
James Potter looked around and pushed his glasses up. “Uhm… No?” he answered warily, “Are you? I’m confused.”
“So are we, James Potter,” Lily pronounced the name with pointed insistence, “I’m afraid it is my bed your impressive and slightly concerning number of briefs are scattered on right now.” She took a step forward and glanced at the spiderman-patterned pieces of clothing lying at the corner of the bed.
She half expected the man to grow bright red and realize he was in the wrong room, but he merely stood a little taller with his hands in his pockets and affirmed through his smirk, “They’re cool, aren’t they?”
“What?” Lily let out as soon as the man’s words registered, but her interjection was barely audible through the sound of Mary’s laughter.
“I said,” James repeated, leaning forwards, an inch away from her space, “They’re cool, aren’t they?”
“They’re childish,” Lily spat but did not step back. She’d finally gotten her thoughts back in order and was not about to lose to this guy.
“Thank god, they are! I love fun, you see? Don’t you?” He pulled back, but the grin he gave her only made the small victory more bitter. He waited for a beat, maybe for Lily to snap back, maybe for either Mary or Marlene to take over the situation.
Lily hoped they would, she could barely think through her headache anymore, and that James Potter guy was shaping up to be a bigger thorn in her side than she’d expected.
Because neither of the girls budged, Lily breathed in at once and explained, “This is our room. You’ve just spent the last hour or so unpacking like an animal in the wrong room, and the day’s been shitty enough. The last thing I need is to have to pick up and throw away your stuff one by one, but I will do it if I have to. So let me be as clear as I can be. The girls and I will leave our bags on the side and go get ourselves a treat downstairs. When we come back in half an hour, if you’re not packed up and gone, I’ll tear that stupid grin off your stupid face with my bare hands.”
“Lily, maybe don’t threaten the other athletes…” Mary suggested, but she ignored her.
James did too. His eyes were locked on Lily’s and he waited a second too long before saying, “Sounds like a plan. Let me check with the office while you get yourself that treat.” He waited for her to nod and turn around before he added, “You could definitely use one.”
Lily could have murdered him right here and there, but the looks the girls gave her stopped her long enough for her to breathe in and out and walk down the corridor and away from him.
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
As much as she hated admitting it, she could indeed use a treat, and she felt better the second the chocolate muffin she’d gotten for herself reached her mouth. The fact that the room was empty and clean when they came back helped as well, although the guy’s snarky comments still resonated in her head.
A full day then passed after the encounter. The next morning, the team went to stand on the Irish boat and sailed down the Seine along with every other country. Lily had already forgotten all about him by then. He likely stood on the Brazilian boat, maybe a mile ahead, and she hoped he would stay this far for the next two weeks.
She spent the cruise waving at the insane amount of people clustered at the railing running alongside the river and let his arrogant pout wash out from her thoughts.
It had worked pretty well, and the next two days had been about nothing but volleyball. The team had practiced harder than ever before, and Lily could sense that none of her teammates would leave France without a gold medal around their necks.
It was the same for her, and she’d drilled her team as hard as she could, pushing them to the edge of their capacities.
They’d spent the last months, years even, doing so, but it still felt like they weren’t doing enough somehow. She drilled them on receiving until they were able to keep the ball up for hours, made them block fast, and spike even faster. Her players were good, great even – they were in the Olympics for a reason – but every team here was good. The Italians were particularly good, and Lily feared that team more than any other.
They’d lost every mock game they’d ever played against them – by far – but the team had new recruits now. Between Marlene who could set any ball to anyone, and Mary, who jumped fast and hit precisely, the team had better odds than it did four years ago.
It was the girls’ second year playing for the national team, and Lily’s fourth, but they were good enough to be starting players and to have brought Ireland up in the women’s teams volleyball ranking. They would win, and if Lily had to go over every single crack in her team and fix it up, she would.
She was running those over in her head, sitting at the Village’s cafeteria, when a voice too loud to be ignored forced her out of her thoughts. She looked up from her empty plate and past the back of Marlene and Mary’s heads as they looked in the same direction as her.
Three tables away, leaning against a pillar like he owned the building, was Brazilian swimmer James Potter telling a story no one cared about.
She’d learned he was a swimmer from the enormous screen in the cafeteria that had played his qualification in the men’s 100-meter Butterfly event the previous day. The finals had taken place in the afternoon, or so the commentator said. He’d also congratulated James on the win and said to catch the swimmer up in the 200-meter Freestyle semifinals and finals tomorrow. Lily had made a mental note to avoid any screen at that time.
“He’s so loud,” Mary noticed, “But what he doesn’t have in delicacy, he makes up in pretty smiles.” She tilted her head, and Lily knew she was narrowing her eyes in examination. With a smiling tone, she added, “And muscles.”
“He’s the kind of guy who thinks smiles and muscles are enough to be a good person,” Lily bounced back, making it a duty to take this man down, “Sure, he can swim, but he’s cocky about it, which makes it less impressive.” She shrugged and frowned at the face Marlene gave her as she turned back around.
“Don’t act as if you weren’t cocky about your game,” she teased, “Miss Made Captain Of The National Team At Twenty-One Years Old.”
“I don’t go around bragging about it,” Lily countered, “I mean, look at him! ‘I breathed in too early and thought I would drown right there in the Olympic pool’ – ” she imitated him – “He’s saying as if he didn’t swim half a second faster than the silver.”
“Lily,” Marlene tried to stop her, but she was far gone.
“I mean, it’s ridiculous, really! And he has to let the entire Village know about it, too.” she threw her hand above her head and realized how irrational she was acting. She didn’t need to care about him, because he was a man, who competed in a different sport for a different country. She’d never cross paths with him again. She didn’t have to avoid screens just because they’d play his events. She only had to tune him out whenever he was in the same room. She brought her hands down and apologized for the scene.
The girls gave her a smile and a quick shake of their heads, and it was only when they left the room that his stupid voice came back to echo in her ears – I love fun, you see? Don’t you?
𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒
The first preliminary game went smoothly, but their opponent was not big enough of a threat for them to rejoice at such a win.
Lily made sure to remind her team of that as she drilled them while they changed, not without giving them a reasonable amount of praise and congratulations.
She was just finishing up when the commentary coming out of one of her teammates’ phones cried out, “James Potter misses gold by three-thousandths of a second and will have to content himself with silver, as Spanish favorite Diego Alamilla stands at the top of the podium today!”
“Noooo!” Amelia, Emmeline, and Charity complained at once as the latter turned her phone off, cutting the commentator short.
Lily, who couldn’t help but listen, felt that same old spike of smugness crawling up her spine as she asked, “Disappointed?”
“Well, yes!” Amelia shouted, “He’s got that champion aura. And Emma’s rooting for him, so I have to as well.”
“Ew,” Emmeline let out before turning towards the door and leading the group out – it was only the four of them left. “I don’t like him that much, to be honest. But Am’s right, champion aura, makes you want to root for him.” She shrugged, and they all glanced at Charity, waiting for her final verdict.
“He’s my emotional support man. Every lesbian has one.”
“He seems more like an emotional disaster than any kind of support to me,” Lily let out, “But I’ll trust your judgment, I suppose.” She didn’t at all, and would rather die than call a man like James Potter her emotional support, but Charity could do no wrong in her eyes.
And so, for her sake as well as Mary’s, who would quit volleyball before missing a party, Lily accompanied the team to the small athlete-responsible soirée the Village’s committee had organized to properly welcome the athletes and celebrate the start of the games, despite Potter’s certain attendance.
It had been a few days already, but everyone had been too busy to get the thing planned out before that evening. It was nothing grand, and most athletes had bailed out due to early events the next day.
Unfortunately for Lily, James Potter had nothing in the morning and was acting way too cheerful for someone who’d just gotten third place.
He and what must be a friend of his stood on a wide bench, half singing to the French song playing in the background and half handing out glasses of juice and various non-alcoholic drinks to other athletes.
The soirée took place on the Village Plaza, which had been arranged for the occasion. The Café was still open to give out drinks and snacks, and a few tables had been set for beer-pong, or ice-tea-pong, Lily assumed as she glanced into one of the glasses.
She could fancy a game of ice-tea-pong and kept an eye on the ongoing games as she followed Mary to the Café.
Marlene had already disappeared, mingling with the small crowd. Lily thought she saw her talking to Potter’s friend but decided to ignore it for her well-being.
She grabbed the cup of tea Mary handed her with a thank-you and took a sip from the hot beverage. It was not the season, but Lily couldn’t handle coffee, and she needed something to keep her up.
“It’s green tea,” Mary let out, as she picked up the small sandwiches the barmaid handed her, “and mini caprese sandwiches.” She gave her one and bit in the other before glancing at the bench James and Friend had just gotten off of. “Marls is on a mission to ruin your life, I think,” she teased, “Already befriending your archnemesis.”
“Archnemesis is a bit strong. He irritates me, sure,” Lily answered and followed Mary towards the bench despite herself, “but I’m not a child anymore.”
Mary hummed lightly as they reached the small group and gave the two strangers a wide smile. “Hi! We meet again!” she exclaimed in Potter's direction, “And we –” she turned towards the other athlete – “have not met yet, but it’s a pleasure. Mary Macdonald, Irish volleyball team.” She shook the stranger’s hand vigorously.
With a bright tone and a thick accent, they answered, “Sirius Black, gymnast for France. My pleasure.”
“James and Sirius were just telling me how Swimming and Gymnastics were the two best sports out there – just above volleyball – although I’m not sure which one of the two comes first.”
“Gymnastics, of course,” Sirius chimed in, and James rolled his eyes with a smile.
“Don’t listen to her,” he said waving his hand in front of Sirius’ mouth, “They have no idea what they’re talking about.”
“Try doing a flip on the beam, and then we’ll talk!” Sirius insisted.
Without missing a beat, James retorted, “Try swimming a hundred meters, Butterfly stroke, under fifty seconds.”
Sirius flipped their hair and spat, “Or I could try swimming the 200-meter Freestyle like you did today.”
“Okay, fuck you.” The insult was sharp, but the smile on James’ face was broad. This was clearly the kind of bickering they were used to. “Maybe I could remind you the 2022 world champ-”
“We haven’t been introduced!” Sirius suddenly exclaimed, purposefully cutting James off. She turned to face Lily, who would have preferred to go unnoticed but smiled politely, and stretched out her hand.
“Lily Evans, Irish volleyball team. Captain,” Lily said as she grabbed Sirius’ hand.
“Oh, my! Pleased to meet you,” they exclaimed, “I’ve heard all.”
“All?” Lily tilted her head and glanced at James, who was grinning like a madman.
He made a sloppy military salute and slurred, “Cap’n. Nice to see you in a better mood.” He smiled and waited for a beat. Understanding that she wouldn’t answer, he clapped his hands and moved on, shouting at whoever might listen, “Anyone wants to play beer-pong?”
A few heads turned and some people raised their hands or came to them, and in under a minute, the tables were surrounded by players and spectators.
Lily, who should have probably left and ignored James Potter for the rest of the night, failed to keep her competitiveness in check and went to stand on the other side of him and Sirius. Marlene stood beside her, ready to play, and Mary sat on the nearest available chair, slowly sipping on a drink she’d just gotten from the Café.
The glasses were ready, and James only went to grab a couple of balls from the people in charge. As he came back, he asked, “What do losers get?”
“A dare! A dare!” Sirius jumped cheerily beside him. “Let the other team use their social media for ten minutes! No, Have to wear the winners’ team T-shirt for a day! No, no, better, they have to come and cheer for the winners in their next event!”
“Woaw!” Mary interrupted from her seat, “Are we even allowed to do all that? Do you guys not have a PR team?”
“We have managers,” James shrugged, “But I’m sure they’re fine with it, or they better be, because I’ve been cheering for France in every gymnastic event I could possibly attend.”
Sirius nodded vigorously and opened their light leather jacket to reveal a tight t-shirt in Brazilian colors.
“Uhm, mh.” Lily crossed her arms, “No way. No. Let’s just settle on the social media one, but only for three minutes, and nothing compromising.”
“That’s no fun!” James exclaimed, “Why would I want to win now?”
“Because you’re an athlete and it’s literally your everyday job?” Marlene suggested with a raised eyebrow.
“Oh, I want to win for the gold medals,” Sirius countered, “I like letting them hang off my boyfriend’s neck when we have sex.” She smiled wide enough to show her white and sharp teeth.
“That’s too much information, love,” James jumped in, but the damage was done, and Mary was folded in half laughing beside them.
“Let’s just play,” Lily let out when she thought they’d all laughed enough, “If you’re not happy with the dare, you can go play against someone else.” She tilted her head in that way she did so well, and James Potter shrugged.
“No, I can be happy with the dare.”
They all agreed and started playing. The small ping-pong balls flew from one side of the table to the other, splashing ice tea here and there.
It was over quickly, although they did end up with one glass left on each team. Lily managed to get a ball in their last cup, but James got redemption for the team and Sirius scored with the second ball as well. When both Marlene and Lily missed their next round, Sirius and James jumped into each other’s arms and ran to get their hands on the girls’ phones.
Lily made sure to keep an eye on what was posted, but it mostly consisted of stupid TikTok posts and tweets that made her roll her eyes more than they made her tear her hair out.
They played again, and this time Sirius managed to convince them to come cheer for them if they lost.
Lily played like her entire career was on the line, and with Marlene’s precise throws, they won the revenge game. Both James and Sirius would have to come to any of their games and cheer for them as loudly as they could.
Lily felt very smug about it, but it faded out as she noticed how excited the two seemed about it. Unable to leave on a bitter win, she challenged them to a third game.
James accepted with a smile, but Sirius threw her hair to the side and let out, “Not me, sorry. I won’t push my luck. Plus, I love this song.” And she disappeared through the crowd, likely heading towards the homemade dance floor on the other side of the plaza.
“Me neither,” Marlene sighed, “I’ll go get something to eat, want something?”
“No, thank you, I’ve had a sandwich already,” Lily answered, and Marlene left with a nod, followed by Mary, who’d just finished her drink.
She turned back towards James with a look that she hoped would unsettle him, but he only smirked and said, “I guess it’s only the two of us now. Are you ready to wear Brazil’s colors for a day?”
“In your dreams.” She would never lose with a dare like this one.
They played fiercely, but of course, ten minutes later, her last cup was down. It fell under the small ball’s impact, spilling ice tea all over the floor, and Lily crouched with her face in her hands, taken by despair.
“I suppose dreams do get true,” James teased, walking over to her and picking the cup up.
Lily looked up at him and wished she could tear his face off. “Again,” she spat and got up, “Let’s play again.”
And so they played again, and again, and again. They played until every other table was empty and there was only water left to fill the cups. Lily had to wear a Brazilian shirt, learn the Brazilian national anthem, learn to speak Portuguese, and many more she’d forgotten. James had to change his wallpaper to the Irish flag, hang a poster of Lily’s team in his room for a month, and admit that volleyball was better than swimming – he got this one out through gritted teeth at Lily’s greatest pleasure.
By the end of the night, they’d played so many games that neither of them could tell who had actually won.
“I won at least three more games than you did!” James attempted one last time, but Lily denied him.
“You did not.”
“Argh, that’s okay. Seeing you walk around Paris in a Brazilian t-shirt is enough to make me happy.”
“No as happy as it made me to hear you admit that volleyball is the better sport.”
“That was coercion. Nothing comes above swimming.”
“Volleyball does.”
“Swimming, the kind I do anyway, is about speed. You can’t compare to that feeling, being in the water and feeling it run over you. It’s like flying.”
“No, you can’t compare to the feeling of being on the volleyball court, the ball going back and forth so fast you can barely see it, and then you hear it hit the opposite court. That’s sport.”
“Do you even ever hear it hit the opposite court?” James teased, but the tone he used was the same he’d used on Sirius earlier.
Lily took this as a sign she was allowed to fight back and asked, “How was the view from that second-place podium? Did you enjoy looking up at Alamilla with your silver medal between your teeth?”
James narrowed his eyes and studied her. It seemed like an eternity before his lips curled back up into his usual smile. “You’re laughing now, but I will be the best swimmer in the world one day. Matter of fact, I bet that I will go further than you will in this competition.”
“Oh, you want to bet?” Bad idea, it was a terribly bad idea, but the rush in Lily’s veins was too addicting to ignore. “How can you even compare? It’s not the same kind of competition at all.” If she found a way to turn such a bet into nonsense, maybe she could avoid making the mistake of accepting it.
“Doesn’t matter, you go as far as you can – you hopefully end up with a medal in between your teeth as well – I win as many events as I can, and, in the end, we add up all of my medals and decide where I stand overall. And then I win the bet,” he finished with an arrogant smile.
“This makes no sense.”
“And yet, you want to say yes.” He stared her down, waiting for her to deny it, but she couldn’t.
Her eyes were locked in his, every brain cell of hers urging her to refuse, but the adrenaline of that kind of bet was too good to pass on.
After they’d looked into each other’s eyes for so long it seemed they would burn each other down, Lily asked, “What does the winner get?”
“Whatever is your desire, M’lady.”
“Every unfulfilled dare the winner got from the tea-pong games,” Lily started, ignoring the ridiculous nickname, “they get wiped out. Nothing. And a wish, they get a wish.”
“Sounds good to me,” James agreed and stretched out his arm.
With an excitement Lily hadn’t felt since she’d started volleyball – that kind of childish excitement you can’t help but long for as an adult – she took his hand and shook it.