Four Christmases
I - 1977
Lily wraps her arms tight around herself; it is the third time she has had to drag herself out of bed to send students to their dorms and it isn't getting any warmer. She sighs in frustration as she slides her feet into her slippers and makes her way to the door of the dorm. She knows it is Christmas, but it is two in the morning and McGonagall has already been up here once.
Lily has discovered, in the short four months of being a head girl, that there are certain times she hates it; after Quidditch matches, on Hogsmeade's weekends, at Halloween and now she can add Christmas to that list. She feels she has barely had time to enjoy it; instead of the lazy lie-in she wanted, she was up at the crack of dawn to supervise the younger students in the common room. Instead of sitting down to enjoy her Christmas dinner, she found herself jumping up and down every two seconds to round up the mice that came scrambling out of Christmas crackers, to stop the first years eating too much and to quickly quash an almost-food fight before any of the teachers noticed.
And if Lily thought for a second that she would be able, at the very least, to enjoy her Christmas evening, she was very, very wrong. No sooner had she flopped onto the squashy sofa in front of the fireplace with Alice, a party had started. She had tried to ignore it for a while, but the stress of the day had left her with a thumping headache and an overwhelming urge to be curled up in bed, so she bade goodnight – she wasn't going to try and break up a Christmas party at nine 'o' clock at night – and heaved her exhausted body to her dorm.
Lily had a couple of hours of reading in bed – and maybe of dreaming about a certain bespectacled head boy – before everything got a little out of hand. The music was turned up, the shrieking became louder, and the sounds of smashing – Lily didn't even want to know what – filtered up the stairs. The first time Lily went down she simply told everyone to calm down – it was still only eleven – and returned to her bed. The second time, a few hours later, McGonagall appeared at the door with her tartan robe on, and an unimpressed expression on her face. That time, Lily politely asked everyone to go to bed.
By now, the third time, Lily is extremely hacked off; her eyes are itchy from tiredness and the toe-numbing coldness that hits her every time she throws the duvet off herself is increasing her annoyance, so she marches down the stairs and yells, "RIGHT, EVERYONE. GET TO BED NOW." Lily has done a lot of yelling in her time, but she thinks that this might be the loudest. The various groups of students still milling about stop dead in their tracks. The serious look on Lily's face makes them decide not to mess with her, so before she can even blink the common room is empty.
The relief that settles over Lily is enormous – she doesn't think anyone will try to start up the party again – but she doesn't immediately return to bed; the fire hasn't quite died down yet, and the warmth that it exudes draws her over. She throws herself down on the sofa with her feet pointing nearest to the fire. This is more like it, Lily thinks to herself as she snuggles down into the sofa.
Lily hasn't had long to relax before she is startled back on to her feet. "What's going on?" a sleepy voice asks her, and even after she realises it is James, her heartbeat doesn't return to normal. "I hear all this yelling, so I come down to help you break up the party, and no one is here," James explains. "What you doing yelling to yourself down here?"
Lily groans and sits back down. "God James, you scared me."
"You scared me. There I was, having a nice dream about Quidditch, and I get woken up by your bellowing voice," James said with a shudder. "The number of nightmares I have had with you shouting in them, god, I thought my nice dream had gone horribly wrong."
Lily contemplates getting up to swat James around his head, but in the end settles for poking her tongue out at him. "Funny that," she smirks. "Most of my nightmares happen to have you in them too."
James waves a dismissive hand and ignores her. "And then," he continues, in an outraged tone, "I come down and you're yelling to yourself. At two in the morning." James puts his hands on his hips – Lily has to stifle a laugh – and looks at her expectantly; waiting for an explanation.
"You were too late James," she explains. "Everyone scattered before you came down."
"Oh. Right," James shrugs in a what-are-you-going-to-do fashion. "So why aren't you going back to bed?"
"I was so cold and the fire was too tempting," Lily answers, and then, "Come sit with me for a bit. I feel like I have barely seen you today."
James cannot help but grin as he makes his way over to the fire. "Oh the irony," he drawls. "A few years ago you were screaming at me to stay away from you, and now you are begging me to sit with you."
"I did not beg."
"You're begging," James smirks.
Lily shakes her head. "Nice pyjamas," she scowls, as he sits down next to her. It is a cheap shot – and she knows it – but at least it deflects James's attention away from her wanting to spend time with him. The thought of how bloody obvious she is being almost makes her blush.
"Hey," James says, holding his hands up defensively. "Don't insult my Christmas pyjamas. Mum gets me a pair every year." He runs his hands over the white material covered in tiny Father Christmases, and adds, "And I happen to love them."
"You need me to leave you alone with them?" Lily asks, raising one eyebrow. James shoves her gently in the side and then pats his lap. Lily obliges – which is mental, but it is so late and she is too tired to resist the pull of him – and drapes her legs across James's lap. He rests his hand on her mid-thigh and Lily cannot decide whether the heat from the fire has suddenly hit or, or it is James's hand on her leg that has made her feel hot.
Lily is only half aware of James's voice as he talks to her about his day; tells her what presents he got, fills her in on Sirius's Christmas date with some fifth year. She nods along in all the right places, but really, she can barely focus when she at such close proximity to James. His fingers trace absentminded patterns along her skin as he talks and Lily wonders if he has any idea what he is doing to her and whether he is doing it on purpose.
It has been a long time – the end of fifth year – since James has asked her out, something she was initially extremely grateful for, but for a while now she has increasingly found herself wishing he would. And occasionally she has really thought he was going to – those longing looks he has sent in her direction and those times he has started to say something but then stopped abruptly made her sure – but then nothing.
Maybe she is so desperate for him to ask her out or to kiss her that she is imaging things, Lily thinks to herself now. Maybe, despite what James spent many years promising – though it used to feel like threatening – he has moved on. The thought makes Lily want to cry; all of those opportunities she had to just say yes and she blew it.
"Hey," James says, as he nudges her in the side and startles her out of her revere. "Are you listening to me?"
"Sorry," Lily mumbles. "I'm just tired. What were you saying?"
"I was just saying that if you had told me two years ago that we would be up past two alone together on Christmas, I would never have believed you."
"Yeah," Lily agrees with a nod of her head. "Everything has changed."
"Not everything," James murmurs so quietly that Lily isn't sure at first if she heard him right. And then he gives her one of those looks again – one of complete longing – and she just knows.
Lily can't help it; she laughs out loud; partly from happiness and partly because she cannot believe how ridiculous she has been. If she wanted James she should have reached out and grabbed him. James throws her a curious look and before she can even think about it Lily says, "I hope that next year everything will have changed."
James has no time to ask her what she means before Lily grabs him by the collar of his Christmas pyjamas and pulls him towards her. She presses her lips briefly, but firmly, against his. "What was that?" James asks in bewilderment when she has pulled back.
"I like you, James," Lily whispers and this is all the invitation he needs. This time it is James who pulls Lily towards him until she is right up against his body.
"Took you long enough to get here," James murmurs.
"But I'm here now," is all Lily can say. With a groan she reaches up to grab James's hair and uses the leverage to pull is head down to hers. James responds with fervour; he wraps an arm around her waist, pulling Lily even tighter against himself, whilst his lips move relentlessly against hers. Lily can barely breathe, but she never wants this kiss to end, and she cannot even pretend to resist – not that she wants to – when James runs his tongue along the contours of her mouth and then slides it intoher mouth. Lily moans, almost embarrassingly, but she has needed this for so long and it is everything she has hoped it would be.
When James finally pulls away from her to suck in some much needed air, Lily whispers "Happy Christmas James."
II - 1978
James stirs and rolls over, yanking the duvet off Lily, who wakes the second the cold air hits her. She sits up in shock, blinking rapidly as her eyes try to acclimatise themselves to the barely-there dawn light. It isn't very long before she realises what – or more specifically who – caused her to wake.
Lily sighs, but cannot stem the smile that creeps up her face. Despite being woken up nearly every night by James stealing the covers, Lily is still so beyond happy that it is her – and only her forever since James married her a few months ago – who gets to wake up next to him every morning, she doesn't really mind. All she has to do is see the top of James's head poking out from the cocoon he has built around himself, and all is forgiven. And really, Lily thinks as she pulls her share of the cover back and snuggles down, she can't get cross with him today; it is Christmas after all.
Lily tries for a few minutes to get back to sleep, but soon gives it up as a lost cause. The excitement of Christmas has driven away any need she had had for sleep. She rolls over to face James and wonders if she can justify waking him; she doesn't want to be on her own for hours whilst she waits for him to wake, but it is very early. Although, she thinks, slyly to herself, she could justify it. Didn't he wake her up first?
It is all the reasoning Lily needs, and before she can talk herself out of it she has unceremoniously poked James in the side. He stirs slightly, but his eyes remain tightly clamped shut so Lily grabs him by his shoulder and shakes him. It does the trick; with a slight groan his eyes snap open. "What's going on?" he asks sleepily, and then, noticing the lack of winter sunshine spilling into the room, "What time is it?"
"Er… I'm not sure," Lily half lies - whilst she does know it is very early; she isn't sure what time it actually is. "Anyway, who cares about that," Lily continues, trying to shift the focus away from the time, "Happy Christmas."
It doesn't work. James, who is clearly suspicious, simply grunts and drags one arm out from the warmth of the cover and reaches over to grab his watch from the bedside table. "Jesus Lily, it's practically still night time.'
"Don't be ridiculous," Lily says, snatching the watch from James. "See, it's six thirty," she states. "Not night at all."
"Okay," James huffs. "So it isn't night. But it is only just getting light." Lily laughs at how grumpy James can be in the morning and rolls over so she is lying on top of him. She pushes his hair away from his forehead so she can plant a kiss on it.
"Stop being so grumpy," she scolds. "It's our first Christmas together."
"No it isn't," James scoffs. "I have spent nearly every Christmas for the last seven years with you. Or rather," he adds, "I have spent every Christmas for the last seven years being told off by you."
Lily swats him gently around the head. "Well what do you expect to happen when I am minding my own business in the common room and you and your reprobate friends start a snowball fight?" Lily demands. "Snowball fights are for outside James. And besides, I meant it's our first Christmas as husband and wife."
At these words, James finally cracks a smile – apparently he is just as pleased about forever as Lily is – and, pushing her red hair away from her face, captures her lips with his. As far as Lily is concerned, this is the perfect start to their Christmas day. She responds to the kiss with enthusiasm; pushes herself harder against him, tangles her hands in his unruly hair.
When they finally break apart it is a while before either of them can breathe, so they lie in silence, Lily's head resting against James's hard chest, his arms tightly wrapped around her.
Lily shrieks in mock-outrage as James tears the paper away from another present and once again balls it up and chucks it at her head. "Right Mister," Lily cries, as she grabs one of the many balls of paper that surround her feet, "This time I'm going to get you."
"That's what you've said every time," James laughs, as Lily aims for his head, but misses again. "Face it; you just haven't got my Chaser skills."
Lily sticks her tongue out at James. "Move closer," she demands. "Let me hit you!"
"Not a chance," James replies and then, finally taking note of what was inside the present he stops dead in his tracks and just stares at what he has just opened. "You got me Christmas pyjamas," he murmurs.
"Yeah," Lily says with a shrug, wondering if she has done the right thing. "I know your Mum used to get them for you, and now she can't, so I just thought…" she trails off lamely. "I'm sorry if it upsets you, but-"
"I love them," James interrupts. "And I love you," he finishes, breaking into a huge grin. In an instant he is pulling his shirt over his head.
"What are you doing James?" Lily asks patiently, even though she knows exactly what he is doing.
"Putting them on of course," James answers incredulously. Lily laughs and reaches out a foot to nudge James playfully in the side.
"You just got dressed," she cries.
"So?"
"And it is Christmas."
"So?" James repeats. "All the more reason to wear them. Besides, it's just us today," he continues and then he reaches over and presses a swift kiss upon Lily's lips. "No order meeting, no friends-"
"No Petunia," Lily interrupts, as she thinks about how awful spending Christmas with Petunia making jibes at her all day would be. James pulls a sympathetic face at Lily, and touches her hand.
"Exactly," he says, as he gives her hand a quick squeeze. "Just us." James lets her hand go and returns to putting on the pyjamas. In a matter of seconds he is in front of Lily, in a pair of red pyjamas covered with snowmen, a big grin on his face.
"Give us a twirl," Lily commands. James does as she asks and shimmies around on the spot.
"How do I look?" he asks.
"Ridiculous," Lily replies through her giggles, and then when James pulls a face at her, "Lovely, I mean. You look lovely."
"Much better Mrs Potter," James drawls.
"Say it again," Lily orders.
"Mrs Potter, Mrs Potter, Mrs Potter," James chants. He makes his way across the room to where Lily is lying on the sofa and throws himself on top of her. "Mrs Potter," he whispers once more in her ear. Lily laughs and wraps her arms around his neck. "Thank you for my pyjamas." He plants kisses down from her cheek and along her jaw line and breathes, "I love you" against her skin.
Lily just has time to whisper "I love you too," before James presses his lips against hers.
"Happy Christmas Lily," James murmurs between kisses.
III - 1979
Lily wakes early, as she usually does on Christmas day, and immediately slides out of bed carefully, so she doesn't wake James. In a matter of minutes she is staring out into the garden from the kitchen window, the smell of freshly brewing coffee in the air. Once the coffee is ready, Lily puts on her winter coat and slides her feet into a pair of fluffy slippers, and goes and sits on the porch that overlooks the garden to drink it.
It is ice cold outside, but it is just what Lily needs; the sharp chill clears Lily's head, allowing her to think. She thinks back to earlier that week, when the Mediwitch confirmed what she had suspected for over a month. Her and James have made a baby, a baby that is a bit hers and a bit his. The thought of something that they have made together is probably why Lily feels the way she does about it. She knows she ought to be worried and scared. She knows she ought to be rational; that she ought to realise that they are too young to have a baby, that this is no time to be having a baby.
But what she ought to know and what she does know are polar opposites. She wants this baby. She needs this baby. The very thought of it makes her hair stand up, makes her whole body shiver in excitement and anticipation. When she runs her fingers over her still-flat belly she giggles in delight. When she thinks about the day she will meet this tiny life growing inside of her, her heart skips.
But Lily is not sure that James will feel the same way. She does not want to tell him just yet; she wants to cling onto the thought of their baby for as long as possible. If she tells him he may tell her it is stupid; they cannot possibly keep it; it is not the right time. The thought of losing something she already irrevocably loves is dreadful and chilling.
The sound of the door banging shut makes Lily jump, but it is just James. He comes and sits in the chair beside her, a cup of coffee clutched in his hands.
"Happy Christmas you," James says and he leans over to press a kiss to Lily's temple. "What are you doing out here?" he asks with a shiver. "It's bloody freezing."
"Just thinking," Lily mumbles.
"About what?"
"Nothing."
James nudges Lily in the side. "C'mon," he pushes. "Tell me what's up. You've been weird for days." Lily doesn't say anything for a while. She simply stares out into the garden – trying to hold onto the idea of the baby for a while longer – whilst James looks at her expectantly. It isn't long before his look turns to one of worry. "Lily, tell me. We always tell each other everything."
Lily sighs. She has got to tell him; she can't hide this forever. "I'm pregnant." James instantly stills; freezes with his eyes on hers. Lily can barely breathe; she holds her breath and waits for James to say something, anything.
"Pregnant," he repeats eventually. Lily nods and finally looks away from him. "Bu-but how?" James stammers.
Lily sighs again. "What do you mean how? The normal way," she cries. "Does it even matter?"
"But we're always careful," James states. "Aren't we?"
"Not careful enough," Lily says. She turns back to James and puts her hand on his shoulder. "But it's irrelevant. We're having a baby." At the word baby, James seems to come back to life. He reaches out a tentative hand to Lily's stomach and presses his palm against it. The corners of his mouth finally begin to lift upwards.
"A baby," he says in wonder. "We made a baby." He strokes Lily's belly, making her giggle. "When is it coming?" he demands.
"July," Lily answers through her laughter. James stands up and pulls Lily onto her feet too; wraps his arms around her. "So we can keep it?" she asks.
James looks at her incredulously. "Keep it?" he repeats flatly.
"It's just we're so young and in the middle of a war," Lily explains. "I just wasn't sure if you'd think it was a good idea."
James laughs and picks Lily up; swings her around until she feels dizzy. "We made it Lily. It's ours and we're keeping it forever. I'm never going to let anything happen to it." Lily laughs too and then reaches up and pushes her lips against James's.
"Happy Christmas James," she says when she pulls back.
IV – 1980
The sound of crying wakes Lily and James up instantly; they both groan and crack their eyes open, taking a moment to realise what is going on. Lily tentatively begins to push the covers off herself, but James stops her. "I'll go," he says sleepily. Lily is too tired to even argue that it is technically her turn; it probably wouldn't make a difference. James has fallen head-over-heels for Harry and he wants to do everything.
James is back again with Harry before Lily has even registered him leaving the room; he puts Harry in the bed next to Lily and slides back under the covers. "It's bloody freezing," he shivers. "What time is it?"
Lily crooks her neck so she can see the clock on the table next to her. "It's five."
"You little terror," James says affectionately. He props himself up on one elbow so he can look down at his son. "Do you think he knows?" James asks.
"Know what?"
"That it's Christmas of course," James cries, rolling his eyes.
"No James," Lily laughs. "He's five months old. I don't think he knows it is Christmas."
"Rubbish, you know, don't you Harry?" James argues and he leans down and blows a raspberry on Harry's cheek, making him laugh. The sound fills Lily with joy; she has fallen for Harry as much as James has. "Well, as we're all up, we might as well go and open presents," James adds excitedly.
Lily nods and stretches, and climbs out of bed. She slides her feet into her slippers and pulls on her robe and then picks Harry up. "Come on mister," she coos.
Lily follows James down the stairs, and into the living room, smiling at the sheer quantity of Christmas decorations; they – well, James really – went all out this year. "It's Harry's first Christmas," James had argued when Lily had tried to stop him hanging up another set of lights. Lily had given in; he was right after all, and, if she is honest, the cottage does look beautiful.
By the time Lily sits down on the sofa next to the Christmas tree, James, spurred on by his eagerness to open presents, has already nearly finished sorting the presents into three piles. Lily laughs at how ridiculous the piles look; a handful for both her and James, and a mountain for Harry. "I don't think you need all these presents," she sings to him.
Barely anytime has passed before all the presents are open; James and Harry are both in matching Christmas pyjamas, Lily is smitten over her emerald bracelet from James and wrapping paper litters the entire living room. Harry seems to be more taken with the wrapping paper than with any of his presents; he and James are rolling about in it, making Lily laugh.
"My silly boys," Lily murmurs softly to herself and then she stands up, stretching as she does, and opens the curtains, and is delighted to see that it is snowing gently outside. "James," she calls. "Quick. It's snowing."
James is by her side instantly, Harry perched on one hip. "Look Harry," he says. James winds an arm around Lily's waist and pulls her tight against his body. The three of them stand and look out at the snow falling and Lily decides that this is all she needs – the three of them together – to be happy.
Lily sighs and rests her head on James's shoulder. "Best Christmas ever," she mumbles contentedly.
"Best Christmas ever," James repeats in agreement. He looks down at his wife and son and then presses a kiss on to the top of both of their heads. "Merry Christmas Lily," he says.