Summary: The Head Girl is fed up with everyone asking her the same question. James attempts to cheer her up, but Lily isn't being very cooperative…
A/N: Hello, all! I came up with this in the spirit of the holiday season, so it's meant to be just a cute, fluffy piece. It's the direct result of me sitting down at my computer and typing whatever random idea comes to my mind, no matter that I had no clue where the story was going to end up at all when I started. Enjoy the randomness, and happy holidays!
Disclaimer: I am at a loss for something clever to say, so: I do not own anything that you recognize as property of J.K. Rowling's.
Where's your Christmas Spirit?
If one more person asked her where her 'Christmas spirit' was, Lily Evans was going to scream. She had had enough, really. Did the students of Hogwarts honestly think that the fact that a certain holiday was coming up gave them the right to sing obnoxious carols at the top of their lungs, chuck snowballs at each other indoors, and snog each other passionately in the middle of the friggin' corridor? Because it didn't. And did they honestly think the Head Girl was just going to let their crazy behavior slide, all in the name of jolly old Father Christmas? Ha. In their dreams.
"That's not even mistletoe, dammit!" she yelled angrily as she passed a couple snogging passionately under what looked like an evergreen tree branch nailed to the ceiling. What the hell is that doing there? she wondered, irritated at the stupid plant that obviously didn't belong in its current location. They pulled apart abruptly and both gave her hefty glares. The boy started to speak: "Where's your Christ—"
"It's on vacation in Tahiti!" she snapped, before quickening her stride down the crowded corridor.
"Not your best one, I'm afraid." The smug voice caused Lily to almost—almost—stop in her tracks. James Potter. She walked faster.
He caught up with her, of course. Damn his long legs.
"You see," he continued, as though he were having a pleasant conversation with someone who actually cared a coin's toss what he had to say (which Lily certainly did not), "I'm rather partial to the time when you told that first year to, what was it again?" He paused, feigning a contemplative expression. "Oh right, 'piss off'." He smirked at her, but it was a wasted smirk (the worst sort of smirk, I tell you) as she was determinedly looking straight ahead. Maybe if she pretended he wasn't there, he would actually disappear... She glanced to her right. Or not. Damn it.
"He was in my way. He should've known better," she insisted, though reluctantly. It wasn't like she wanted to continue the conversation, after all.
"You made him cry." She cringed. That wasn't really one of her best moments.
Then she remembered who she was talking to, and that she really didn't want to be.
"Well, er, go away!" Yes, that was her cleverness at its very best. Impressive, huh? She glared at James, which proved to be a stupid move as she proceeded to trip over the ground. He caught her, of course; her skin tingling, even through the fabric of her school robes, where his hands held her around her waist. Stop it, you stupid skin cells! I hope you all die! Yes, she was mentally threatening her skin cells. Who hasn't?
James pulled her to her feet, and then proceeded to laugh. And laugh. Lily glared at him the whole time. He seemed strangely immune to the death wishes she was mentally sending his way. Finally, he pulled himself together (but not before wiping a tear from his eye). "I—," he started, but couldn't prevent one last chuckle escaping. He tried again: "I didn't know you couldn't walk. My apologies." It seemed as though he was about to break into another bout of laughter, but Lily stopped this with a well-aimed punch in his left shoulder. She didn't hit him that hard, but hard enough to get the message across. Why she aimed for his left shoulder, she couldn't tell you. "Ow, dammit!" He clutched said shoulder, wincing. "Have you ever heard the phrase, 'violence is not the answer'?"
"Oh but it almost always is," she insisted dangerously. Maybe if he thought she was a crazy psychopathic murderer he would leave her alone. She tried to put on an expression she thought a crazy psychopathic murderer would have (which involved much eye twitching). James gave her an odd look.
"Are you having a seizure?"
She stopped the eye twitching, offended. "No."
"My mistake. You were doing this weird twitchy thing."
"If I was having a seizure, Potter, my whole body would be involved in the twitching action. And it clearly wasn't."
"Whatever you say, Evans," he dismissed, seemingly bored with the conversation already.
She stared at him for a moment, and then came to the horrifying realization that she had just held a conversation with James Potter. Gasp! "I'm going to Charms now," she stated quickly (it had been her original destination), and started to hurry away.
"Don't."
She stopped, turned back. "Don't?" she repeated.
He looked at her like what he was saying was obvious. "Don't go to Charms."
"Don't go to Charms?" she repeated again, aghast.
"No need to repeat whatever I say, Evans," he said impatiently.
"The Head Girl can't just cut class whenever she wants to, Potter! I have a responsibility to the professors, to the headmaster, to—"
"Yourself. Come on, it's Christmas. You deserve a break."
"That's what Christmas Break is for." She gave him a pointed look. He started to speak, but she interrupted. "What would everyone think if the Head Boy and Girl skipped class? All of those impressionable first years would say, 'Lily and James did so that means we can too!' and then no one would show up to a lesson ever again." She gave him a 'so, there!' look because she had obviously just won the argument. Obviously.
James looked rather skeptical. "I highly doubt the reaction would be that extreme. And how would the first years know we skipped class in the first place?"
"Their older siblings would tell them of course!" Right. Yeah. Of course.
"Because the subject of whether or not we cut class is so interesting that they'll have no choice but to discuss it with their younger family members."
"Exactly." He laughed, which caused a subsequent frown to cross her face. What on earth was so humorous?
"You're deluded, Evans." His mouth was set in a straight line but his eyes still twinkled. Yeah, that's right, they twinkled. Bet your eyes can't do that.
"Thank you," she said coldly. She was about to walk away again, but he spoke first.
"I mean that in the best possible way." That stupid lopsided grin was on his face, and it took all her restraint not to punch him in the left shoulder again. Because that grin was just so annoying that it made her want to hurl.
It was at this particular moment in time that the bell chose to ring.
"Oh dear Merlin!" Lily exclaimed, horrified. "I'm late! What am I going to do? Potter, this is all your fault!" She cursed the world for not reminding her that it was time to get to class. She cursed herself for getting caught up in a conversation with Potter of all people. She cursed her feet for tripping over nothing. She cursed her skin cells for tingling inappropriately. And finally, she cursed James Potter for being a huge git.
The cursed boy gave her an unfazed look, and she suddenly had the strong urge to slap him. Seriously, her hand twitched.
"Relax, Evans, you won't be late."
She was flustered, to say the least. "Well unless you have a time turner in your back pocket, I already am!"
He pretended like he hadn't heard her. "You won't be late because you're not going at all. Now come on." Without any warning at all, he grabbed her hand—her hand!—and pulled her down the corridor in the opposite direction of the Charms classroom.
Lily was having none of it. "Let go! Let go now or I will curse you into the next century!" Unfortunately for her, he was holding her right hand, AKA her wand hand. Magically, she was powerless. So instead, she tried desperately to pull her hand out of his grasp, which served to be quite impossible. "Damn you and your vice-like grip!" she exclaimed, her face going red with the exertion. Eventually, she gave up with a tired sigh, and let him drag her along down the empty corridors of Hogwarts. When he noticed her sudden willingness, James looked quite surprised, as though he had expected to have to drag her kicking and screaming the rest of the way. The surprised look soon turned into a pleased grin.
"Where are you taking me?" Lily demanded suddenly.
She expected him to evade the question, but he answered immediately. "The lake."
"Oh so I get to freeze to death! Great!"
He rolled his eyes. "Accio Lily's cloak!" About 45 seconds later, the black shape emerged from around the corner (a rather foreboding sight, if truth be told) and found its way neatly into James' hand. He tossed the cloak back to her (she was trailing behind him, after all). "Happy?"
"No," she answered moodily, but put it on anyway. This involved a need for momentary separation of the couple's hands, which gave Lily the idea that if she was quick, she could make a run for it. Too bad James' reflexes were quicker and, once the cloak was on correctly, grabbed her hand back before she could escape. "Damn."
He grinned. "You can thank quidditch for that."
"I hate quidditch," she said for no particular reason other than to annoy him. The truth being that she was quite fond of the sport—well, watching it, not playing it.
He gasped. "How can you…hate quidditch?" The idea that someone could despise the sport he loved was so utterly foreign to him that he couldn't wrap his head around it.
"Easily," she answered, beginning to enjoy the lie she was forming. "I bring a book to every game and read it the whole time because the game itself is so boring. A bunch of people just flying around knocking balls into hoops; I mean, where's the excitement in that?"
James appeared as though he was about ready to pass out. Lily was smiling sweetly at him, actually enjoying herself in his presence for once. "You—you did not just say that. I—a book—more exciting?" The lack of comprehension was written clearly across his face.
Eventually, he seemed to recover himself somewhat, for he continued on in a more determined tone. "I'm taking you flying right now."
Lily's smile fell. That was not supposed to happen. "Potter, it's about fifteen below outside and it'll be even worse in the air! We'll die of Hypothermia!"
"Oh. Right." Phew. "Well some other time then." Oh great. Just bloody perfect. A flying date with James Potter.
"Looking forward to it," she remarked sarcastically.
He started dragging her down the corridor again. "You know, you could just refuse to go."
She reddened. That's what she meant to do! "Right! Yeah, I refuse to go!"
"That's too bad, because you're going. I said you could refuse to go, not that I would let you." She could just imagine the grin that was on his face now, but she could only see the back of his head so her suspicions couldn't be confirmed. He sent her back a questioning glance, probably wondering why she had suddenly gone mute.
"Er…don't tell me what to do!" she managed to get out, but it was a little late and half-hearted at best. Oh dear Merlin did she actually want to go on this flying excursion Potter was offering? No, she was just excited to try the flying part was all, because she hadn't been on a broom since first year. And that was the only reason. The fact that Potter would be there was just an unfortunate aspect of the event. It's not like she would be riding on the back of his broom with her arms around him like in all those trashy wizard romance novels. Er, not that she read those or anything…
The pair had reached the oak doors that led to the outside of the castle. James, being the gentleman (cough) he was, gallantly held the door open for Lily. He let go of her hand and, shockingly, she didn't try and escape. Instead, he was on the receiving end of an icy glare as she crossed the threshold. That, however, he could deal with.
They made their way across the grounds (James had put on a cloak he had brought with him), carefully trudging through the thin layer of snow.
James apparently felt the need to interrupt the silence. "You know Evans, I think you're warming up to me."
Lily was alarmed to say the least. "Whatever gave you that idea?"
"You cut class with me, you let me drag you through all of Hogwarts holding your hand, and now you agreed to go flying with me." He looked rather smug about the whole thing, actually.
She was angry. "Every single one of those things you forced me to do!"
"You didn't put up much of a fight."
"Does vice-like grip ring any bells?" she seethed.
"Yeah, yeah, blame it on my impeccable muscles. They all do." His haughty tone (even if it was pretended) did nothing for her temper.
"You're impossible! And arrogant! And…and…dammit!"
"I'm dammit?" he asked curiously, his eyes betraying his amusement.
"No! I just," she paused, then mumbled the last part, "my mind went blank."
"What was that?" He leaned toward her, clearly enjoying himself.
"My mind went blank, okay! I couldn't think of anything to insult you with!" Lily looked deeply disturbed by this information. "There's something wrong with me," she declared.
That stupid grin was back. "You fancy me."
She stopped in her tracks. "I—what?" James finally realized that his companion wasn't really doing anything of the moving sort, so he stopped and turned back to face her.
"You fancy me," he repeated, like it was a 'Duh' sort of statement.
"Do you honestly believe that?" she asked, in shock.
"Yes. Now can we please quit stopping? It's taking forever to reach the lake." He tried tugging on her arm to get her to move but she determinedly stood her ground.
"Well you're wrong," she argued (quite pathetically, might I add).
He smirked. "You keep telling yourself that, Evans."
She was incensed. "You are the most infuriating, obnoxious human being I have ever—"
"So you've finally found those insults you were looking for, then?" he interrupted, less humor on his face than before. He had thought they were doing so well…er, well enough, anyway.
"It appears I have," she replied coldly, not caring that it was her words that caused the frown to form on his face. Well, maybe she cared a little…she just wasn't fond of hurting people, that's why.
A resigned expression graced his features. "You know, you can leave if you want." It clearly pained him to say this. "If you really don't want to be here, I can understand…"
Lily was flabbergasted. He dragged her halfway across the school and out into the cold with such determination, and then told her she could leave? Clearly he had mental issues. Oh well, not her problem.
Go, Lily, go. Move! But something was wrong. Her body wasn't moving. No matter how much she willed it to, it stayed put. Her brain was obviously getting the signals a little mixed up. Unfortunately, there was not much you could do about a mixed up brain.
"It appears I am temporarily paralyzed from the waist down," she sadly informed her companion.
James' frown slowly transformed into a grin. "Can you manage the rest of the way to the lake? Or do I have to carry you?" he teased.
"Er, no carrying will be necessary," she said quickly, terrified at the thought.
"Right then." He looked disappointed for a brief moment, but recovered. "Let's go." The two continued their way to the lake, and Lily was annoyed to find that her legs had now decided that moving was not, in fact, beneath them. She would give them a talking-to later. Er…I mean, she never talked to her body parts.
Finally—finally—they reached the lake.
"So…what are we doing here?" Lily asked, glancing around as if some sort of purpose for being at this particular location would pop out at her.
"Ice skating." She paled. That was not the sort of purpose she wanted to hear. "The lake is completely frozen over, and the ice is thick enough, so I thought it might be fun." He gave a little shrug, before looking to Lily to see her reaction.
She stared pointedly at the ground. "Um…I'm rather terrible at ice skating, actually."
"I can help you," he offered. Which was sweet of him, really, except for the fact that Lily really did not want to go ice skating.
"How about you skate and I'll watch?" It was a weak proposition, but did I mention how much she really did not want to go ice skating?
He laughed like her idea was completely ludicrous. Which it so wasn't! Ahem. "Right." He conjured a couple pairs of skates anyway and handed one to her. She glared down at the two objects, remembering how much suffering they had caused her the first and only time she had worn them. Not this particular pair, of course, but ones that looked eerily similar. Because ice skates look so different from each other, you know.
"They go on your feet, by the way."
She was about to say, 'Of course I know they go on my feet, idiot!' but then, upon a glance at his expression, realized he was, in fact, joking. After a sarcastic 'ha ha,' Lily found the strength from somewhere deep within herself to put the offending objects on.
Once she was done, she noticed that James already had his on. "You look like a girl," she informed him. Perhaps this stemmed from the fact that when she thought of ice skating, she could only picture girls doing it. She really didn't get out much.
James was amused, which Lily didn't consider very normal. If someone told her she had the physical characteristics of someone of the opposite gender, she would be quite disgruntled. Apparently James Potter was used to it, or something. "In general or just right now?"
"I meant right now, but now that I think about it…" She pretended to consider him, even going so far as to put her hand on her chin in the universal 'I'm deep in thought' pose.
"Checking me out, Evans?" Punch. "Jeeze, woman! I'm sorry! It's a force of habit." He winced, rubbing the offending area. "And in the same spot as before, too…" he muttered.
"You deserved that."
"I know," he conceded. "Forgive me?"
Er…what? He had never asked her to forgive him before in such a sincere way. Poor boy must be mentally ill or something. "I don't know…"
"I won't make you go ice skating," he offered, albeit reluctantly.
She immediately brightened. "Really?"
A grin. "No."
Daggers were sent his way. "Then I don't forgive you."
"You already have." She appeared to be in a mild state of confusion. "I can tell."
"Oh you can, can you? You can read my mind, I bet, right?" She snorted in a very un-lady-like manner.
"Yes, actually." That was…creepy. And his serious expression did not help her nerves in the slightest.
"What am I thinking about right now then?" she asked doubtfully.
"You're thinking about how much fun it would be to go ice skating with me."
"Ha! Wrong! Because I would never in a million years think—Wahhh!" He interrupted her ramblings by grabbing her arm and beginning to drag her toward the lake, which was about ten feet away from them. This involved much clambering and stomping (they were wearing ice skates after all) until the pair finally reached the edge. Lily was not very happy about this turn of events; no, she was not happy at all. "Please please please don't make me go," she whined desperately, as a last resort. If she were in her right mind, she would have realized that she was literally begging James Potter for something. Her right mind would not be very happy with her, to say the least.
"It won't be that bad, Evans. I'll be holding on to you the whole time—" Her look of horror prompted him to change tactics. "I mean, I definitely won't hold on to you at all." Now she looked even more alarmed. He let out an exasperated sigh. "Look, Evans, I'll catch you if you fall, all right?" Eyes wide, she nodded, not the least bit convinced.
The nod was enough for James. He stepped out onto the ice in a fluid motion, and turned back to face her. "Here, hold my hand at first." She looked doubtful, but figured a hand to hold was better than no hand at all. She grabbed the proffered hand and stepped out onto the ice…and promptly fell on her arse.
James resisted the urge to laugh and cringed instead. "I was supposed to catch you there, wasn't I?" He took the glare to be a yes. "Sorry about that." He tried pulling her up, but she slipped and fell once again. After a few more unsuccessful attempts at stability, Lily was finally back on her feet.
"I told you this was a terrible idea," she complained loudly.
"Once you get the hang of it, though, everything will be fine," James assured her. He then tried to show her the proper foot movements involved in the art of skating, and she actually paid attention to him for once. Well…sort of. He was a pretty good skater, she had to admit, and she actually found herself—dare she say it—enjoying watching him. She couldn't deny that he was, to be frank, one of the most attractive guys in Hogwarts. He had the perfect build, beautiful eyes, amazing hair…Oh Merlin, what was she thinking! She wasn't thinking, she concluded. Because if she had been in control of her thoughts, she definitely wouldn't have thought about how attractive James Potter was. Because he wasn't attractive. At all. Not one teensy bit. His hair was unkempt, and his eyes were hazel. I mean, who likes hazel eyes anyway? Certainly not Lily. And his body…well, fine, that part of him was rather easy on the eyes, but other than that, there was nothing about him that would make any girl, especially not Lily, swoon.
"Evans? Hey, Evans! Hello?" She broke out of her reverie and focused on James standing in front of her. She reddened at the reason for her spacing out, and made a vow to attempt to be more alert from now on.
"Right! Hi!" Her overly cheery façade quickly diminished as she looked into his probing eyes (hazel, ugh). Oh dear Merlin, what if he really could read her mind? He would see all her not-so-innocent thoughts about him, and know that she—know that she what? There was nothing to know, except that she despised him as much as she always had. Of course. Duh.
"Hi," he returned her greeting warily. She sincerely wished he would stop looking at her like she belonged in St. Mungo's (even if she probably did). "So…you listened to what I said, right?"
The cheery façade was back. "Of course!" She smiled reassuringly. "I definitely heard everything."
He gave her an odd look. "Okay then…so you want to try it yourself now?"
She blanched. "Right. Yeah. Sounds great!" she added quickly before he noticed her not-so-eager expression. "Um, so you just put your right foot right here," she proceeded to slide said foot forward. "Then the left one goes over here," her left foot slid off in the left direction. "Er…uh, then the left foot comes back to the right, and…then you're done?" She gave James a hopeful glance. True, she hadn't moved forward at all, but she had to be close, right? And she hadn't fallen over, so that had to be considered progress.
He was still giving her a strange look. "Did you listen to a word I said?" Wait, was there amusement in his eyes?
"Er, uh, well I was more watching you than listening to you, you see, because…all right, so I don't really have a reason, but…why are you smiling like that?"
Indeed James was smiling in a way that seemed to imply to Lily that he knew something that she didn't. And that scared her.
"No reason." Damn him and his smugness, she thought. She hated smugness of any kind, especially on Potter. It was unnerving.
"Fine. Whatever. I don't want to know." Liar.
There was a short silence, in which James continued to grin at her and she continued to stare at him. Then, "Are you ready to listen now?"
"Yes," she said defiantly.
"And you promise you won't start daydreaming again?"
She scoffed. "I'll have you know, Potter, that I was not daydreaming because there's nothing I could possibly want to daydream about."
"Of course you weren't, Evans." He was doing that smirking thing again which meant one of two things: either he had some sort of smirking problem in which he was incapable of doing anything but smirk (highly possible considering how often he did the action throughout the day), or he didn't believe her. She sincerely hoped it was the former, but deep, deep down knew it wasn't.
A sigh. "Can we just get this over with?"
"Certainly," he acquiesced happily. This time around, Lily paid full attention to what he was saying and doing and was proud to say she did not think about his eyes, hair, or body the whole time. Well, more than once each anyway.
When it was her turn to try the moves, she followed what he said as well as she could. Sure, she was a bit more wobbly than graceful, but as it was only her second time ice skating, this was perfectly understandable. James gently holding onto her arm the whole time to prevent any accidents may have helped a little, but she wasn't one to readily admit that fact.
In fact, as the minutes flew by, she was actually improving quite nicely, to the point where she could move forward at a relatively decent speed. And she had only fallen four times. Amazing!James eventually let go of her arm, but still kept a close distance just in case. Lily was not too happy with this turn of events, but only because it meant she had a better chance of falling on her arse without him holding onto her. There was no other reason. Got it? Good.
She was gliding—er, wobbling—along happily when she suddenly felt her balance tip a little too far left. Lily did not want to fall again so she did the only thing open to her: she grabbed James' nearby hand. That was all well and good, and it did keep her from falling on her arse, but the trouble was, she didn't let go. Even after it was clear she wasn't going to trip over her own two feet, she still held on. She didn't dare look to see what James' expression was, for it would probably be a very smug one. She was surprised he didn't say something cheeky like, "If you wanted to hold my hand, all you had to do was ask. No need to pretend you're about to fall on your arse." Because that would totally be something he would say. Or it would have been last year, when he was a complete prat. Truth be told, he wasn't a complete prat anymore. Maybe still a partial one, though.
In Lily's defense, her hands were cold and she hadn't brought any mittens or gloves; James' hand was warm for some reason, so it only made logical sense to hold it. Right? Well, at least, that's what Lily kept telling herself.
It did feel quite nice, though. Comforting, even. Of course, she would die before she admitted that to anyone.
A sudden thought hit her. What if he thought the hand-holding meant she fancied him or something ridiculous like that? Oh the horror! She had to stop this before he got any ideas into his head. But if she pulled her hand away now, wouldn't that make everything even more awkward? It's Potter, for Merlin's sake! Who cares if it's awkward? It's not like I make a point to talk to him very often. But then again, we still have to work together as Heads… All these confusing thoughts were making her brain hurt. Lily Evans did not appreciate her brain hurting one bit. The brain hurting thing had to stop. Immediately.
"Potter." She boldly turned her head to look at him. He looked very…content, she decided. Serene.
"Hmm?" He turned toward her, and their eyes met, which was not good. She had seen his eyes before obviously, but never this close. They were so intense, and warm. And chocolate-y. Yes, they reminded her of chocolate. She found herself forgetting what she had meant to say, which was also not good. What the hell is wrong with me?! she asked herself desperately. He had never affected her this way before, so why now?
Unfortunately for Lily, she had also forgotten that she was still moving on those blasted skates. This, my friends, was her downfall.
Without her full attention presiding over it, her right skate swerved much too far to the right, and after a second or two of limb flailing, she was laying face down on the ice. James, who had unfortunately still been holding her hand during this time period, was pulled down as well, landing face down next to her. "That hurt," he announced, his voice muffled however as his face was currently pressed against the ice.
"Yeah, I'm really sorry about that," apologized Lily, cringing at the combination of cold plus pain.
A few moments later, both had managed to get into a sitting position.
An awkward silence reigned.
And then, for some odd reason, Lily started to laugh. And laugh. And continue laughing. And…nope, still laughing. James looked bewildered by all this euphoric action. "S-sorry!" she exclaimed between giggles. "I d-don't know what's g-gotten into me!" Soon enough (or not so soon, actually) her laughter subsided so that only a few stray giggles remained.
"Do you need to go to the Hospital Wing?" he asked eventually. "I think you might have hit your head a little too hard…" She almost burst out laughing all over again at the concerned look on his face, but refrained from doing so for his sake.
"I'm fine, Potter," she insisted. In all honesty, she didn't really know where the laughter had come from. She guessed it was a combination of all of the events of that day: her terrible skating, her multiple falls, the fact that she had voluntarily spent multiple hours with James Potter... What would normally seem horrifying to her struck her as quite hilarious for some odd reason. Maybe she really should go to St. Mungo's, on further contemplation. They probably already had a bed waiting for her…
"If you're sure." James was still looking rather doubtful.
"I am. But we should probably head back to the castle, anyway. I'm freezing." It was true: sitting on ice did make one feel rather cold. Funny how that happens.
The couple got up and carefully maneuvered their way back to the shore of the lake, with no more accidents. Once their ice skates were removed, they began the trudge back to the castle. It was rather dark out now, maybe even past dinnertime. The three-quarter moon lighted their path, however, so they didn't have to worry about pulling out their wands.
After a lengthy, though not uncomfortable, silence, James spoke. "So was it worth it, Evans?"
"Was what worth what?" she queried, still a little lost in her thoughts (which were definitely not about him).
"Was ice skating with me worth missing a lesson?" To be honest, Lily had actually forgotten about the Charms lesson that she had skipped. To her great alarm, she found she didn't really care a coin's toss about it.
"Well…" she began, as though pausing to consider her answer, "I was dragged through half of Hogwarts, had the circulation to my hand nearly cut off, fell about twenty times, and missed Professor Flitwick's lecture..." She ticked each item off on her hand. "But some parts of it were mildly enjoyable." Couldn't let him get too cocky for his boots, after all.
James' pleased grin said it all. "From you Evans, that's like a five-star review."
"Whatever, Potter." She rolled her eyes, but couldn't prevent a small smile from gracing her features. He noticed this, and his grin grew wider. They continued on in this way, talking about nothing and everything, until they reached the shared Heads' common room. The password was said, and they stepped over the threshold, the portrait hole closing behind them.
Lily turned to face James, feeling that she had to say something. "Listen, Potter," she started, "today was actually not that bad." She paused, prolonging the inevitable—this was very difficult for her to say. "And you weren't that bad, either, I suppose." With great effort, she continued. "So, um, thanks, I guess. For giving me a break from school, and…everything." She hesitated, wondering if she should add the last part; deciding to. "Goodnight." It was softer than she had originally intended. Oh well, too late to take it back now. She turned to go, but he held her back with a hand on her shoulder.
"Evans." His intense stare and their close distance made her heart beat erratically, to her great distaste. "I've fancied you for quite some time now," he stated bluntly, "and I think," he hesitated, unsure of himself for the briefest of moments, "I think you fancy me too."
She was about to deny it, to tell him off for thinking so highly of himself, but he was just so close that any coherent thoughts she had flew right out the window. His hand reached up to caress her cheek, seemingly encouraged by her lack of protest, and she nearly shivered at his touch. He was leaning in, the distance between them getting smaller and smaller. Run! Escape! Flee! But his intense hazel eyes and his breath on her skin rooted her to the spot. Her eyelids involuntarily fluttered closed, her lips parted. And then, his lips captured hers.
It took her all of half a second to kiss him back.
It was gentle at first, but soon escalated into something more passionate as his tongue demanded entry, and she, surprisingly, granted it. His lips tasted vaguely minty, and it was a taste she definitely wanted more of. She wrapped her arms around his neck, sure that he was the only thing holding her up right now, for her legs had turned to jelly. His arm that wasn't involved in holding her cheek wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer every passing second. It was the most amazing kiss Lily had ever experienced (though she had only had two previously, but I digress). She knew James was rumored to be a good kisser, but she had never really believed it until now. Finally, when the lack of oxygen proved to be too much for the two of them, they pulled apart, gasping for breath.
"I—I can't believe—" Lily stuttered, out of breath, not sure exactly where she was going with that statement. She couldn't believe a number of things: that she had just kissed James Potter…that she had spent practically the whole day with him…that she found herself to enjoy his company somewhat…that she wanted to kiss him again… She felt something more needed to be said. "I—I still despise you, you know," she managed in between breaths. "Just—not as much."
"Of—of course," he agreed, breathless as well.
"And I'll probably never be your girlfriend," she added. Inhale. Exhale.
"No?" he inquired roughly.
"But one date couldn't hurt, I suppose," she reasoned, to the great surprise of both of them.
He recovered quickly from his shock. "No, it couldn't," he agreed.
"I mean, what could possibly happen? It's not like we're going to end up married or something."
He laughed. "Don't be ridiculous, Lily."
"So…" She bit her lip in thought. "We'll talk about the details later, yeah?"
"Later's good for me."
"Good."
"Yeah."
A smile. "Goodnight, James."
A grin. "Goodnight, Lily."
_+*+_
The next day, Lily Evans did not yell at a single person who threw a snowball indoors. Because if she really thought about it, it could be cleaned up in a second, right? And when Roger Davies strolled down the hall singing 'Oh Christmas Tree' at the top of his lungs, she didn't deduct house points or tell him off. She actually had the urge to laugh, in fact. And when she spotted a couple snogging passionately under a sprig of mistletoe, she didn't get angry. She figured, well, they might as well enjoy it while they can, right?
And, funnily enough, no one ever asked Lily Evans the question of "Where's your Christmas spirit?" again.
A/N: Does anyone else out there love italics as much as I do? I've become a bit obsessed with using them, actually; it's rather disturbing.
But anyway (there I go again), did you love it? Hate it? Don't care a coin's toss about it? Leave a review and tell me what you think! Otherwise I'll never know and that would be rather depressing, don't you think? Yes. Yes it would.
Happy Holidays!
-pleasestandby