Disclaimer: I own nothing.


December 1st

Hello Notebook, it's been a while. A few months. You must understand, we've been very busy. The reason I've made time to write again is because that time has, once again, arrived. I'm not talking about my monthly friend, no. I, for once, am talking about James' time of the year. It's December, you know what December means...


December 1st 1980

Hello, again. I had to document the fact that James thought building snowmen would be fun. Building a snowman is fun. Building ten snowmen is NOT fun. I repeat, I do not find any pleasure in it whatsoever. Same can't be said about James. He's building the eleventh as I'm writing this. I hope they all melt. Harry finally started sleeping at night.


December 1st 1980 (almost midnight)

Lily, you fell asleep. Your lack of support for my snowmen building ambitions is downright disappointing. But I love you and therefore I will not punish you by not buying you a gift this year.

James

P.S. Thank Merlin that he's sleeping at night. Finally.


December 2nd, 1980

Apparently James (yes, you) thinks it's funny to spy on my inner thoughts. Now I really do hope his (yours!) snowmen melt and die a slow and painful death. May the sun use Cruciatus on those nasty, frozen, non-living creatures in my yard. I love you, too.


Still December 2nd, James is not at home. I'm trying to bake a new version of pumpkin pie. Marlene sent me a recipe. It's not working out. I will have to abort this mission and get rid of the evidence. Harry didn't stop crying since noon, he's a bit cranky today. Don't know where to hide the notebook in case James tries to find it again.


I hate pumpkin pies.


December 3rd 1980 (00:13)

Lily, your hiding place is awful. I am deeply ashamed. You married a Marauder and thought I wouldn't find it there. Oh, and I am very pleased to inform you that I've put a spell on the snowmen. They won't be melting so soon. Besides they are not nasty, I think they're rather cute. Pumpkin pie fiasco warms my heart, that's what you get for hating on my snowmen.

I hate pumpkin pie. Do you really, Lily? Do you? I've known you since we were eleven and you do not hate pumpkin pie. You just hate making one.

James


December 3rd 1980

Good morning, love. The child has been fed.


James, you're a prat.


December 4th, 1980 (very early in the morning, hello Lily)

Your hiding spot was awful. Still buying you that present. Maybe I've already bought it, you never know.


You sodding idiot. Stop reading what I write in here. (December 4th, afternoon) I will poison your butterbeer.


December 5th, (you know what year)

Now, let's not be rash. You don't really want to kill me, do you? It would be awful for Harry to have to grow up without a father and without a mother (since you'd be locked up for killing me, think Lily, think!) How can I stop when you constantly write about me? I want to know.


Seriously, James? Seriously? Did you put a charm on this notebook? Is that how you find it? Is that how you know I talk about (to!) you? I really should hex you once you get back from Diagon Alley. Oh, and I think the spell you put on those snowmen is wearing off because one of the looks dead. Ha!


Update on snowmen. Five of them are dead. I am observing them from the window and trying not to laugh evilly. Contemplating going outside and pouring hot tea over them. Harry is also amused. Your son hated those snowmen, too.


James is asleep. Good.


December 6th 1980

You still haven't changed the hiding spot. I think you want me to keep finding this. Two snowmen remain standing. I think you had something to do with their sudden downfall, but carefully avoided writing it here. My son absolutely loved the snowmen, you brainwashed him, woman. Nevermind the dead snowy men, I'll make more as soon as more snow falls… which will be in a few days according to that muggle weather forecast you've been telling me about. Hey, it appears that it's useful after all.


December 8th 1980

Are you okay? You haven't written in this silly thing in two days. I'll assume you're gloating because the last two snowmen melted. I'm sad.


December 10th 1980

Lily?


December 13th 1980

I'm not amused, you killed the fun. Now what am I supposed to do?

LILY!


December 14th 1980

Found a new hiding spot after I stopped writing in here for a while. That should confuse James. The spot is in my pillow case. Let him try to get it out from there. The git. Still have no idea how I ended up marrying him. The 'muggle weather forecast' was wrong, if you want to know. It didn't snow enough and James was very upset. Spent the whole afternoon in the library, pouting and searching for new hexes. I didn't know there were any left that he hadn't already learned. Sirius stopped by yesterday afternoon. He doesn't know what to buy Harry for Christmas. I suggested he punches James. Sirius laughed.


December 15th (it's 2 o'clock in the morning, Lils)

And you thought that your pillow case would stop me. James Potter, Marauder Extraordinaire. Well, you were fooling yourself, Lily Potter (that still sounds so good, ex-Evans!). Now, let me see. Yes, I applaud you for the crafty way you tried to stop me from being such a git and continuing this charade. You failed. The way you ended up marrying me? Let me see: we fought till 6th year when you realized how brilliant I was and decided that you loved me all along; I proposed, you said yes; it was a nice wedding… although much too stressful for me.

Believe it or not, there actually are hexes I haven't learned. I really should get started on that, though.

I am still not over those snowmen. I know you ended up pouring that hot tea all over them.

James

P.S. Sirius would never betray me in such a way, he loved the snowmen too.


December 15th (afternoon)

Sod off, James Potter. I'm not in the mood. Stop looking up from the sodding newspapers at me writing this like you know exactly what I'm writing. It's unnerving. And you don't know. I hope all of your future snowmen die


December 17th 1980

James went out this morning and came back with a pile of Christmas decorations. Maybe I can choke him with something. Or at least hurt him a bit. Hung bloody mistletoes all over the house, too. The prat. I know you're reading this, the mistletoes are not an excuse to back me up against the wall first thing in the morning, especially when you know how disoriented I am before my first cup of coffee. Damn you, James.


December 18th (ah, it's midnight)

The mistletoes are not an excuse, just a valid reason to back you up against the wall in the early morning hours (yes, I know you're disoriented; blame a guy for taking advantage of a girl's half asleep state, won't you?). Oh, and when you put it like that it seemed you enjoyed it, so prepare for tomorrow morning. Love you lots, Lily.

P.S. You know you'd never actually kill me, you just say that because you love me so much. (think of our child!)


December 20th (sodding evening, I'll kill my husband)

The house looks like a mess. James bought more decorations and got down to business. It's day even when it's night and all the lights are out. Someone needs to punch him, I think I'll call Sirius and see what he can do… even though he refused once. I'm sure he can be persuaded. The bloody prat kept the mistletoes, I should start throwing Christmas decorations at him, we have plenty to go around.


I hate December.


December 21st (it's 5 o'clock, in the morning, I can't sleep)

Dear Lily,

your son is awake. He is crying. You are still asleep. I think I may be the one doing the killing after all. And the house does NOT look like a mess, I have decorated it tastefully! Of course I kept the mistletoes. If I can recall they served their purpose… well more than enough times. I think I won't kill you after all. I love kissing you too much to do that.

Harry's asleep.


(almost noon)

I'm glad you made yourself useful tonight James. Usually I'm the one taking care of a crying child in the middle of the night while you snore away (because you've been up until 1 in the morning writing in this notebook, but who cares anymore, right?).


Always glad to be useful during the night, Lily.


December 22nd (afternoon)

James you are inappropriate. I didn't mean that. (while we're on the topic, you seem to be more useful during the evenings and mornings, git).


I love it when you insult me.


You two are weird, but everybody has their kinks, right?

Sirius

P.S. I didn't read past the last page, but you shouldn't leave this around.


December 22nd

It's 8 o'clock in the evening. JAMES I AM GOING TO KILL YOU. You left the notebook lying around. You didn't 'hide' it back.


December 23rd (you're asleep, I'm alive)

So, I'm still alive and that's why I'm assuming you've calmed down about the whole Sirius finding the notebook deal. It's Sirius, Lily, come on. He doesn't even care. (okay, so maybe he does and he'll tease us about this till the day we die, but come on… we can always hex him).


December 23rd

I bloody don't care James Potter. You are not allowed to touch this or leave this lying around.


Snow. Snow everywhere. I'm about to throw myself through the window.


December 24th (ONE DAY MORE!)

You're alive which means: a) you didn't jump out of the window after all; or b) you did jump but there's just so much snow (yes!) and you weren't able to kill yourself. Think of Harry!

I made more snowmen, as I'm sure you've noticed, hence the suicidal thoughts. I think these one's are much prettier than those before and I made only 9. Named them after the reindeers. Aren't you proud?


You are a child, James. A child.


You didn't say that last night. No worries, I'll hide the notebook this time. Besides, Sirius isn't coming around until dinner time.


You're dead.


Kinky.


I have poisoned the butterbeer, James. ALL of them!


Tasted all of them, they are okay. People are arriving in half an hour, I hope no one dies tonight. It would be awfully tragic seeing as it's Christmas Eve.


December 25th (it's midnight)

I think you're cleaning up the kitchen and you know how much I hate doing that. I'm hiding with Dasher and Dancer, nice fellas. Anyway, I wanted to wish you a very merry Christmas and tell you that I love you so much, even when you threaten to kill me (or when you hex me). And I am so happy to have met you because you make my life infinitely better, Lily… Potter. Still sounds great. Looks great, too.

I love you.


December 25th

You're asleep and you are the most adorable git I've ever met, James. The most romantic and annoying person ever. I hope Dancer and Dasher weren't bored. And I love you too. So much. (even if I do hate your snowmen). And even if you didn't help out in the kitchen. And you spiked the punch I made. And you and Sirius ate dessert before the main course. And a lot of things, James. But I really love you and I love how annoying you are.


December 25th

I knew you'd never murder me.


December 28th

I'm sorry your snowmen melted, James. Please stop sulking on the porch.


Sometimes I think you loved them more than me.


Don't be ridiculous.


Joking.


I know. They were good snowmen.


They just bloody STOOD in the garden.


December 30th

James held a funeral for the snowmen. Why?


I'll assume that was a rhetorical question and just pout because you refused to attend.


December 31st

Tonight.


January 1st

Lily, buy a new notebook, this is the last page.


I will.


Fin.

A/N: I hope you like. I don't know what this was supposed to be about, but I felt like writing something, so I did.

Maja.

P.S. Merry Christmas!