Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Can I get the rights for Christmas?

A/N: This is an unedited version of a fic I wrote for the Christmas season. It would take a year for me to be happy with the piece, and I decided that I need to post it around Christmas. Enjoy. (I'm still new to fanfiction, so please don't be too harsh).

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Traditions.

James Potter was quite fond of traditions. From everything to the first prank of the year at Hogwarts to the legendary April Fools' Prank to the end of the year prank. In fact, he stuck to his traditions quite religiously.

The young man was in his awfully large room at Hogwarts—namely, the Head Boy's dormitory at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A picturesque scene was able to be seen from outside the Head Boy's window. Snowflakes fell like feathers toward the blanket of white snow on the ground. Hogwarts looked like a Winter Wonderland. James was laying spread-eagle on his maroon and gold blanketed bed, his tousled raven hair rubbing against his pillow. Hazel eyes gleamed behind round glasses as he gazed at his ceiling which was adorned with posters of his favorite Quidditch players. He was thinking. He was thinking fondly about how much he adored his school traditions and how it was quite amazing, awful, and scary that since it was his seventh year, it would be the last time he would ever do his school traditions. He had performed his last Welcome-Back-Prank. And this year would be the last year he would scheme with Sirius about April Fools' Day pranks and this would be the last few times where he would have to convince Remus to help them with the pranks. James would miss it all dearly, he decided. But the Welcome-Back-Prank, the April Fools' Day pranks, and not even the End of the Year Prank would be missed as much as the tradition he was about to complete for the final time on this Christmas Eve. James' eyes suddenly couldn't see the ceiling before—they weren't looking at Quidditch celebrities, but now he was viewing things that he had already experienced.

The Mistletoe tradition, James had fondly dubbed it.

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An eleven-year-old panting James Potter sat in his dormitory on Christmas Eve, a piece of mistletoe in his hand. He had just stolen a piece of the many Christmas decorations that had adorned the Great Hall. Unfortunately, Filch had discovered him tampering with the mistletoe that hung over the grand doors of the Great Hall and James had to run all the way back to the Gryffindor Tower—a rather strenuous run, if you ask me.

James was grinning boyishly to himself as he lay down on his bed, a joyful feeling overcoming him. A couple of days ago, he had seen all of the Christmas decorations being put up in the school and then witnessed a couple snogging each other's faces off when they discovered that they were standing right underneath mistletoe. The young boy had come up with an idea fairly quickly after that. James had decided that he would use this Christmas ornament to his advantage. He would use it to get Lily Evans to kiss him! Hopefully she would snog his face off, just like that one couple was doing.

You see, James had already managed to get Lily Evans to dislike him thoroughly. Though, James himself was just as convinced that Evans was faking her dislike. After all, everyone liked him. Dumbledore liked him, the students at Hogwarts liked him, his Mum and Dad liked him. Why would Lily Evans dislike him? Never mind that James had humiliated the girl the day she was trying to get on to Platform Nine and Three Quarters and made her yell "I LOVE JAMES POTTER" as she ran straight into the wall between Platforms Eight and Nine. To make a short story even longer, the point was, James was planning to chase Lily Evans with mistletoe in his hand.

"Oi, James, what's with the stupid smile?" Sirius Black asked James from his four poster bed.

"What?" James asked, he hadn't even heard the question.

"Oh, no. James has got that lovey-dovey face on," Peter Pettigrew squealed with a disgusted look on his face.

"I do not!" James replied childishly.

"Do too!"

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

Sirius had then proceeded to squint his eyes and analyze James' face. "You're right, Peter!" he yelled. "Get some water; we need to drown James in it."

"DO NOT!" James screamed.

James' other friend, Remus Lupin, was quite silent, he was probably rolling his eyes behind the book he had his nose him. Remus was the only reasonable person in the group of four.

"What's with the lovey-dovey face this time?" Sirius asked. "What's Evans done to you, mate?"

"How'd you know it was Evans?" James asked. After a momentary pause, he said, "Never mind." The raven haired boy sighed and then ran his fingers through his hair. He pushed his glasses up higher on his nose slightly. "I've just got this idea," James started hesistantly, holding up the mistletoe. "I'm going to take this mistletoe, and hold it above Evans' head—and then I'll kiss her!" he explained. "Oh, Merlin, I love Christmas!" James then sang out happily.

Sirius merely looked at James like he was crazy. "You do realize you'll get hexed into the next century, mate? Evans hates your guts."

"She does, she does," Peter agreed, bobbing his head stupidly.

"Even I have to concur with that one," Remus spoke quietly, after clearly his throat, peering at his three friends from right over his book.

"Remus, you're supposed to be on my side!" James complained bitterly. "Anyway, Evans does not hate me. She's only playing—"

" '…hard-to-get. After all, who could hate a face as innocent as mine? I'm smart, too! Everyone loves me! Evans can't hate me, in fact, she looooooves me'. Yes, we get it, Jimmy. We've heard the story a million times," Sirius finished James' statement monotonously.

"Could you please not call me, Jimmy?"

"Alright, Jimbo," Sirius replied.

"Arghhh," James groaned, throwing his pillow at Sirius. "Just you watch, I'm going to go and Lily's going to make out with me as if there's no tomorrow!" he proceeded to say confidently as he stood up straight and placed the mistletoe in his pocket and marched out of the dormitory and into the common room.

"He's going to get hexed into the next millennium," Remus sighed as the door slammed shut behind James.

"Let's go watch!" offered Sirius, running down into the common room.

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Lily Evans was quite content sitting near the roaring fire in the Gryffindor common room, thank you very much. Her feet were propped against the mahogany coffee table in front of the scarlet couch she was sitting at. Her short auburn hair was tucked behind her ears as she just closed her eyes and basked in the comfortable silence.

"Oiiii, Evansssss!"

Lily's eyes flew open, showing the intense emerald color that was hiding underneath those eyelids. Oh, great. So much for comfortable silence.

She did not respond to the voice that had basically hollered her name, knowing that oh-so-familiar voice and that oh-so-familiar greeting. It was James Potter, about to ruin her day.

"Evans, it isn't nice not to respond," James called from the stairs as he run down them.

"It isn't nice to humiliate people, either," Lily responded in a solemn tone.

James had cheerfully ignored her and before Lily knew it, the raven haired boy was standing right in front of her. He was hiding his hands behind his back.

"I have a present for you, Evans!" James said cheerfully, but his cheerful tone quickly turned serious—a tone that was rarely heard coming out of Potter's mouth. "But first, I have to ask you a question."

"What?" Lily asked in a hesitant voice.

"Will you go out with me?"

The redhead's face almost turned as scarlet as her locks. "NO."

On the other hand, James' expression was quite calm, cool and collected. He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "You know you want to, Evans. You'll admit it one day or another."

Lily jolted up from her seat. She looked down at James angrily—at age eleven, she was taller than James. At this point, smoke was almost ready to steam right out of Lily's ears. "I don't want to go out with you and I never will, you prat," she said through grinding teeth.

"Whatever you say, dear," James said calmly. "Anyway, I've got a gift for you, remember." And with that, James had pulled his hands away from behind his back and held the green leaf of mistletoe over Lily's head. The hazel-eyed boy quickly leaned in and gave Evans a peck on the lips.

To return the favor, Lily had scrunched up her nose disgustedly and backpedaled, pulling her arm behind her back just to forcefully slap James on the face. "POTTER, YOU COMPLETE GIT!" she screamed in a fiery voice.

James' hand reflexively went to his cheek and he gingerly rubbed his face. "Maybe you'll feel different next year. Merry Christmas, Evans."

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The seventeen-year-old boy had a small smile on his lips. James completed the Mistletoe tradition every year for the last six years. Every year he would greet her with an "Oiiiii, Evanssss!" and every year Evans would slap James in the face.

But this year, James knew it would be different—or at least he hoped. This year, he would finally kiss Lily Evans, and she would finally kiss him back. Sure, he would start out with his traditional "Oiiii, Evansssss!" and he would end with the traditional "Merry Christmas, Evans", but in the time between, James would change his strategy. James had spent his whole seventh year trying to be more mature for Evans. So, therefore, the Mistletoe tradition would also be treated more maturely.

James sat up on his bed and ruffled his raven hair. He then stood up and left his room, knowing that he would find Lily in the Head Common Room. She was always in the Common Room on Christmas Eve.

Lily Evans sat in the Heads' Common Room, a book propped open on her lap. She couldn't find the ability to read though. She was much too nervous. Lily knew what was coming. It was Christmas Eve. And for the first time in seven years, Lily was kind of anxious for this annual thing to occur. If you had told Lily that she would be looking forward to James Potter's Mistletoe tradition in her Seventh Year last year she would tell you that you were crazy. If you then proceeded to tell her that whenever she saw James her heart started beating like she had run a thousand miles and that she was glad to be in his company, she would tell you to go to St. Mungo's and get your sanity checked out—it was starting to get serious. But the truth was, Lily Evans liked James Potter. And for the longest time, she couldn't admit it to herself. She couldn't fancy the boy who humiliated her every day for the last seven years. She couldn't like the boy who asked her out to a date every day. She couldn't like the boy who was so immature that he could probably win an award for it. But the thing is, Lily realized, James Potter wasn't a boy anymore. He was a man. He had matured greatly, and now he was attractive.

"Oiiiiii, Evanssssssssssss!"

'Right on time,' Lily thought to herself with a small smile, 'but he could really stop it with that 'Oi, Evans!' thing.'

"Guess what," James said with a small smile. He had edited asking Lily out on a date out of the tradition—Remus had told him it was part of his immaturity.

"What?" Lily said, with a knowing half-smile on his face. 'I have a present for you,' she completed James' sentence in her mind.

"You're looking really pretty today," James said with a twinkle in his eye, sitting in the gold sofa across from Lily. "Actually, you look pretty every day."

Lily smiled inwardly to herself. "Thanks," she replied. Wait a second, just wait. What happened to 'I have a present for you'? Was James /not/ going to hold the mistletoe over her head like he did every year? Was he not going to try to kiss her? Had he given up? Oh, no! No, no, no! The one year that Lily really wanted him to hold that mistletoe over her head, he decided to get all mature on her and stop doing it. Just her luck!

After a few moments of silence, James had cleared his throat and opened his mouth. "By the way," he said as he stood up and walked over so that he was right in front of Lily. "I have a present for you."

Lily grinned from ear to ear as she stood up quickly. She was a good head and a half shorter than James now. She looked up anxiously at the tall raven haired young man and said, "Oh, do you?"

"I do," James replied, his hazel eyes sparkling from behind his glasses. And from there, James had placed his hand and his pocket and pulled out that traditional leaf of mistletoe. He held it over Lily's head and kissed her gently on the lips—a chaste kiss, but a kiss it was.

He pulled away and waited.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

Lily hadn't slapped him yet! This was a good sign.

"I like you, James," Lily confessed a mere three seconds later. Though, it really felt like a lifetime.

"You what?" James sputtered, "And did you just call me James?"

"Are you deaf, Potter? Just kiss me."

And James did exactly what Lily asked. He snaked an arm around Lily's slender waist and slammed his lips against hers, not so chaste this time. And Lily kissed him passionately back.

Lily pulled away first and as she tucked her auburn hair behind her ear, she looked at James, narrowing her jade green eyes. "Didn't you forget something?"

"What?" James asked, clueless.

"You forgot the part where you ask me out," Lily explained curtly.

"I thought you wouldn't like that," James shrugged casually. Though his habit of rumpling his already messy jet-black hair when he was nervous made his casual act fail. "Would you--?"

"I would love to," Lily cut him off.

James grinned a large smile. It was a smile that lit up his entire face. "Merry Christmas, Evans."

A merry Christmas it was, indeed.