For Teddy ~ hpaddict_marauders

【In which Lily helps the coffee shop singer to find his sound... 】

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The cafe seemed to come alive on Saturdays, Lily Evans noticed. It was like watching the same mundane place of work that she frequented the rest of the week but in some sort of superlative pair of glasses that painted everything in a new light. People seemed to chat in a more amiable way, the smell of caramel cake and coffee seemed to become sweeter and the whole place was lifted miraculously off the ground.

Lily wasn't quite sure why it was always Saturdays that made the room brighter (she had her theories but most were utter tripe conceived purely of boredom while spending her hours out-with Uni wasting away in a barista's apron).
But today things were a little different...

The cafe had always supported local artists (many of which were quite diverting) but today a man whom she had never seen before was standing behind the microphone at the top of her cramped, yet homely, place of work.

He was quite pretty as far as boys in their twenties went. His hair was the colour of dark chocolate and his eyes glimmered inspiration and cleverness from behind a pair of rectangular spectacles, giving him a charming intellectual look about him. Lily might have appreciated him if he didn't carry himself so deftly. Anyone with that much self assurance should be shot at dawn as far as she was concerned. Especially blokes of the good looking, reasonably dishy pedigree.

He didn't announce his name, nor his song like most musicians did, leaving his identity enigmatic in, what Lily presumed, must have been a hard-to-get trick he had played on many a girl in his time (well, she thought, if he hadn't it would be a damn waste!).

An introduction on his guitar made it easy to recognise his music style immediately, and Lily was rather upset that she found it so agreeable. Riptide had always been a modern classic according to her, and yet she was expecting something more earthy and real for a person like this unidentifiable, cocky Adonis; something like Elton John or something of Elvis Presley's earlier work perhaps.

All the same he sang very well, with the sort of breathy tone that could hit or sorts of notes, celestially. He was impressive to say the least, and he played softly and sweetly; just loud enough to carry all around the room but not too loud that the music was forced along the cafe, making it sound phoney. She liked that about him, people seemed to be captivated in his music, genuinely wanting to listen rather than letting it occupy the background.

That was when she noticed the change in ambiance. The cafe was no longer filled with chatter and cheer; it was instead filled with this delectable cafe singer's guitar strums and airy tones.

He played for a total of an hour, in which not a single person bought another coffee, all of them too spellbound by this man that stood at the top of the cafe, strumming a guitar and working the microphone like he was born to sing.
Once he'd stopped it took a few minutes for the world to carry on turning, if a new customer walked in they wouldn't be judged for assuming the place was simply filled with stupefied zombies, under some sort of hypnotic curse.

"Could I trouble the pretty girl for a cappuccino?"

Lily's head snapped up in a gyre of red hair, her half-up bun unravelling completely as she jumped to see the cafe singer across the counter, smirking at her in an irritably coquettish way.

"I'd rather you didn't call me that, but it would be my pleasure," Lily, ever the brilliant employee, said, smiling brightly at him and pulling a cappuccino mug from under the counter.

"Thank you kindly, sweetheart."

Lily chose to ignore him. She liked him a lot better when he didn't talk (although she would be lying if she said he didn't look better up close).
It only took her a minute to fix up the coffee which she placed in his hands expertly, "there you are, sir. Three pounds, five?"

The man grinned, "this is why I like these kind of places better than the chains: Starbucks is at the rob, I'm telling you," he handed her a small pile of coins which she filed away in the till.

"So, how long have you been cafe singing?" She asked him, splitting her hair in half and re-doing the top knot she had in prior.

"A few months, paying Uni fees. I suppose that's why you're here too?"

Lily nodded, "English Literature."

The singer nodded, "music." (She hadn't asked).

"I figured."
Despite finding herself disliking the man and his cocksure manner with every passing second, there wasn't much else to do at that moment (she could always go back to her nonsensical theories but she didn't fancy space-staring at the minute while she had a chance to look at the pretty boy across the counter).

"So, what did you think?" He asked with a confident wink that made her unsure whether her stomach was supposed to churn or flutter.

"Of the set?"

"Yeah."

Lily frowned in thought, "I'd have chosen different songs but you play well."

"I'll take that," he nodded more to himself than anyone else.
"What songs would you have chosen?"

"Elton John, Elvis Presley– you know? Love songs, the classics."

The man smirked a smirk that she wouldn't mind punching off his gorgeous face, "love songs? Well just say the word and I'd sing you a love song any day of the week."
She sent him a glare that would turn medusa into stone.
"Oh, come on, love! I was only joking!"

"Really? I didn't notice?..." she jibbed sarcastically back, turning away and beginning to count the money in the till (he may have been good looking but she'd rather like to have scalded him with the hot coffee pot behind her.

"Figures. You don't strike me as the sort to enjoy a joke."

This irked her haply more than the previous comment.
"How so?"

"Well judging by the look on your face, sweetheart, you look like the sort that'd rather enjoy ripping my spinal cord out from my throat."

She almost chuckled... almost.
"That would be correct."

"Thought so. I'm James Potter."

Lily's eyes widened, "Ironic– I'm Lily Evans."

James Potter chuckled, "isn't that a coincidence? Harry Potter fan?"

She nodded, "who isn't."

"Of course: Literature student. 'Ask a stupid question' i suppose," he shrugged, taking the last dregs from his coffee and placing it back down in the counter.
"Anyway, I'll best be off. I'll see you next Saturday?"

"You're coming back?"

"Of course. University fees won't pay themselves, sweetheart, they're very expensive. You should know. See you later Lily Evans."

He picked up a leather jacket and flung it over his broad shoulders, he was gone in less than a flash. She didn't even have anytime to admire his crisp sense in style...

He came back the following Saturday. Lily watched him arrive, rolling her eyes as he winked at her while hoisting a guitar bag on his shoulder.

"Who's he?" Asked Marlene– a fellow coworker– when she descried their rather one-sided interaction.

"The ironically named James Potter. The new cafe singer, very cute but an ego the size of northwest London." Lily replied, already bored with the way he ran a hand through his hair before he began to play his first song.

"Oh you can tell can't you?" Marlene agreed, however the way she was watching him suggested something completely paradox to her tone.

"Marlene! You're supposed to hate him!"

The blonde beauty rolled her eyes while she wiped down the counter, "why? He's good looking, so are you. You're a university student and you never come on the nights out! I'm serious, Lily, if you don't fuck him, I might!"

As if he could hear them James turned; his bewitching rendition of Lego House by Ed Sheeran tickled the room like a spell that bound the public near by.
She rolled her eyes, he's doing this out of spite. He knew she thought mellow pop wasn't his genre and yet he still sang it (beautifully but that was besides the point).

"See, he's smiling at you!" Marlene slapped her arm as she wandered off to find something else to do. Marlene got bored.

Not an hour later Lily was hit with an odd stroke of de ja vu as he slid into one of the high stools at the counter and asked for a cappuccino.

"What did you think this time?" James Potter asked her with a smirk that Lily assumed was signature.

"Still not your genre, but I'll give to you: you do know how to sell an Ed Sheeran song."

He laughed, "well I'll take that as a win, sweetheart."

"For the last time Potter you call me that again then this steaming hot coffee is going to ruin your pretty face!"

Once again all that seemed to do was bring him great amusement.
"So you think I'm pretty?"

"I own a set of eyes. Just because I think you're pretty doesn't mean I don't think your a prick because I most certainly do."

He nodded seriously, "well for the record I find you rather enticing too; charming even."

"Don't try that on me, Potter it wouldn't work. Anyway, Marlene wants to ride you– said so herself– why don't you go and flirt with her instead of wasting all your good charm material on someone clearly not interested?"

This in particular seemed to entertain him more than Lily imagined it would, quite lame really, (on the contrary she would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy making him laugh).
James glanced over in the blonde barista's direction, leaning back to get a better gage of her appearance, he smirked approvingly when she caught him watching but said nothing.
"She's lovely n' all but not my type. I have a friend who'd be interested and he's much hotter than me, practically the lovechild of Zayn Malik and Demi Levato."

Lily resisted all urges to smile, "I can't imagine that kind of beauty is possible..."

"You've never met Sirius."

"So you're not interested in leaving me alone?"

James grinned wolfishly, "not even a little bit. You're much better looking than blondie, besides James and Lily just sounds better, don't you think?"

"Not Lily and James?"

"Both are good."

"I like neither."

This coaxed one of the most radiant laughs Lily had heard in a very long while. The type that could end wars, start religions or change the world (perhaps all three).
"You're a wonder, Lily Evans. I love it."

Saturdays followed and without fail, every time he would arrive, wink, play a pop tune, flirt relentlessly with her then disappear in a flash of chelsea boots, guitar bags and leather jackets.

Over the weeks Lily had grown accustomed to the Saturday. A Saturday when instead of the world she worked in being a buzz of chatter it was instead a captivating quiet of spellbound clientele.
She had her theories (it would be safe to say that James Potter had found a nice little space in her permanent inner monologue– not that she would care to admit that). She had her theories but most of them boiled down to the fact that James was just naturally a talent to behold, she wondered why he needed the music degree that he was supposedly paying for.

It was late autumn when James arrived without his guitar for the first time ever (and he was an hour late into the bargain). Lily watched him with intrigue, forgetting to roll her eyes when he winked, when he reached the top of the cafe, instead of standing by the microphone he sat by the piano. Lily had no idea he could play.

The sun had retired early due to the time of year and so the cafe had the kind of moody lighting that made the whole place seem submerged in the golden glow of the tea lights on the tables and the bare bulbs suspended from the cafe ceiling.

Never once had James introduced himself to the customers– Lily was pretty sure that none of the regulars knew his name– and yet here he was. On a piano stool, addressing the small room like it was his.
"Good afternoon– or evening, rather. I'm a bit late. Anyway, here's a song I hope you'll like:" he turned to look directly at Lily, "I've finally given in."

He played piano somewhat differently to the way he played the guitar, with six strings he looked more boyish but with his back straight, his specs on the end of his nose and his messy hair shielding one eye he looked quite sophisticated.

She recognised the introduction after about three notes and she grinned, he glanced over at her and winked, this time she didn't roll her eyes.

"It's a little bit funny,
This feeling inside,
I'm not one of those who can,
Easily hide,"

Your Song by Elton John; an artist she had suggested he would thrive with the very first time they met. She couldn't help but feel overwhelmingly touched by his benevolence to the extent where she didn't even bother to stop herself staring.

"I don't have much money, but,
Girl if I did,
I'd buy a big house where,
We both could live."

The rest of the cafe seemed quite stunned too; whether that was out of recognising the irregularities in James Potter's usual song choice or if they were simply enthralled in the lull of his voice for the first time. Either which way Lily couldn't blame them for their gaping mouths.

He seemed radiant in the glowing abendrot of autumnal golden hour. He appeared as if he might disappear with a gust of wind, like a pile of leaves children spend hours gathering once they fall off the trees, only to be carried away by the wind and to swirl back beyond the trees where they once lived.

Candlelight danced across the jaw she had spent perhaps too long watching the past months he'd been coming here– or perhaps years? She hadn't been paying attention, only to the fact that he always came, and she always looked forward to the blithe, shameless flirting– if one could call it flirting?...

"And you can tell everybody,
That this is your song.
It may be quite simple but,
Now that it's done."

She grinned, watching him skim over the keys so simply like he might be able to in his sleep. She realised how easy he was. How easy it was to be with him. She liked easy. She liked it a lot.

It was bizarre how a song could make her revaluate an entire relationship so suddenly.
But maybe it hadn't been so sudden? Maybe it had been this way all along?

"I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind,
That I put down in words,
How wonderful life is, now you're in the world."

He looked up (it was hard to tell whether he even needed to see the keys anyway) and watched her with a charming intent that Lily wasn't sure she could ever forget. There was no doubt about it that this was her song.

"You sang it?"

"I did."

She grinned, her eyes glimmering with verklempt tears that brimmed around them ( she might have cried but she'd rather not ruin her eyeliner).
"For me?"

James just smiled, making his entire face light up, making the entire room light up like nothing she'd ever seen before.
"All for you, sweetheart, it's Your Song, remember."

She nodded, wearing a grin to match his and totally forgetting there might have been customers waiting to be served. She didn't so much as spare them a thought.
How had one song changed so much?

She knew the answer to the question before she'd even finished asking it: because it was Your Song. No, it her Her Song, and she wanted to hear it again... and again... and again.

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