Just a little Christmas fun :) Thank you for reading! Part 1 of 2 below:
Lily Evans had always, always loved Christmas time. She loved it despite that, with red hair and green eyes, she had pretty much been a living, breathing form of Christmas her entire life (as she been reminded, plenty, by every living, breathing boy in primary). She'd loved it the winter her father had been laid off and her mum had enlisted her and Petunia into crafting homemade gifts for family and friends. She'd loved it even when, only seven and still naive to her magic, she had accidentally set their tree on fire after Petunia had told her Father Christmas wasn't real (mum would still insist it wasn't her, but come on, trees didn't just spout flames out of thin air).
Lily Evans had loved Christmas time for seventeen years of life...that is, until December of 1977. In December of 1977, Lily was not feeling particularly happy or hopeful about the holiday season. And to the casual observer of her life, there were quite a few reasons as to why this could be.
For one, there was the letter her sister had sent to her on December 1st, coincidentally the first letter she had received from Petunia since their shared hamster had died back in second year (though, she wasn't sure she wanted to count "Pebbles is dead. I thought Miss All Powerful Sorceress would like to know. Don't write back." as an official correspondence). This particular letter somehow managed to be worse than its predecessor, as it pompously announced Petunia's engagement to Vernon Dursley. Lily had been unfortunate enough to get to know her sister's boyfriend over the summer and had grown pretty confident in her assessment that he was one of the most vile men on the planet.
Secondly, there was Severus. Her former best friend had quickly devolved this year from pleading his absolute regret to regarding her with bitter contempt. Lily wasn't quite sure as to what had sparked this change, and frankly she no longer knew enough about Severus's life to make any educated assumption. It wasn't as if she was still holding onto hope to revive the friendship, but she expected at the very least to receive some form of respect from him. It was nearly impossible for them to exist in Slughorn's NEWT-level Potions class without being at least civil, but Severus seemed determined to test that theory.
And lastly, there was the most obvious reason of all: the fact that she was waking up almost daily to headlines in the Daily Prophet that spoke of mysterious disappearances, terrible deaths and a growing hysteria. They could, at the very least, Lily thought, name the man who was causing all of this terror. Everyone knew who he was, and what he was trying to do, and who he was trying to do it to. Even if they couldn't speak his name, couldn't the cowards at least bloody write it? That was, decidedly, not very merry.
All this to say that the casual observer of Lily Evan's life would not have been able to guess why she having a terrible holiday in December of 1977 (and she would have very much liked to keep it this way, thank you very much). For, the top tier, number one persistent problem that was ruining Lily's good cheer was not her sister, her surly ex-mate, or even the looming prospect of a wizarding world turned upside down.
None of these things seemed quite as insurmountable as her massive, soul-crushing, utterly foolish crush on the Head Boy.
It had happened slowly at first, so slowly that her self preservation instincts−the ones that tend to kick into overdrive when one's best mate slanders them in front of the whole school−never picked up on the warning signs.
She'd started to warm to him last year, not quite so much to be mates but enough to retire exclusively calling him "Potter". Enough, at least, that when he'd written her to tell her he had been made Head Boy, her reaction hadn't been "what the bloody fuck is happening" (as he had predicted in said letter), but surprisingly "Hmm...I suppose I could see it."
Since then, it had been one surprise after another. Because it turned out there was a lot she didn't know about James Potter, after all, and the more she learned, the more she liked. Sure, she could make the excuse that a lot of their time together was mandated by their duties as Heads, but that certainly wouldn't explain all the other times she now sought out his company.
You see, she'd begun to notice things. Like his laugh...it was fucking infectious. She could be in the worst mood, and all it took was hearing James Potter's loud, effortless, completely-devoid-of-self-consciousness laughter to break the spell. The better she knew him, the more Lily realized that the boy was just rather predispositioned to think that life was grand. Could it be positively irritating at times? Of course. But it also gave him the most exceptional capability for joy of anyone she knew. And, yes, it was that same easy nature and blatant self assuredness that used to drive her bonkers, but 17-year-old James Potter was no longer careless or cruel with his fortune. His ego had always been a blinding flash, but now he wore confidence like a favorite old jumper.
It wasn't just his laugh, though. It was...well, it was increasingly everything. Like, his footsteps...had they always been so distinct? Even with her back turned in the common room, she would know exactly when it was James coming through the portrait hole. And his handwriting was just so neat−so neat, in fact, that one day she'd commented on it and he'd divulged that his mum was keen on calligraphy, and Merlin she didn't even know handwriting could be endearing but it was.The boy was also surprisingly obsessed with Muggle culture. He loved talking to Lily about Muggle bands he'd discovered, and their new favorite game to play during patrols was a James Potter original, Muggle or Befuddle, in which Lily would have him guess which was real between an actual Muggle invention and utter rubbish like "a telephone vacuum" (yes, she'd somehow won that round, though James had argued that it could very well be pending copyright).
Oh, and to make it all so much worse, there also was this maddening tendency she felt to impress him (she especially hated that). She'd find herself applying lipstick before Head meetings, or fluffing up her hair before class. One day James had complimented her grandmother's barrette and she'd pinned it in her hair every day for a week.
It was at once rather exhilarating and also entirely awful. It was making her seventh year and ruining her life. Well, all right, not her life (she was, after all, well aware of that whole wizarding world turned upside down business). But definitely, definitely her holiday season.
For instance, there was today.
It was a Saturday morning in early December and she had been awaiting his arrival in the Heads' office for approximately four minutes. Now, had Lily ever been a stickler for punctuality in the past? Eh, not particularly. But if you were to ask her another pointed question, say, whether or not she was desperately grasping at straws to find anything even remotely reproachable about James Potter these days? Well then, a witch would plead the fifth, or perhaps temporary insanity.
Alas, at approximately four minutes and thirty three seconds past the 9 am meeting time the two had agreed on, James practically jogged through the open door, shirt rumpled and tie strewn around his neck, a covered cup in each hand and a small bag tucked underneath his chin.
"Sorry, sorry, sorry. Practice ran late, which meant I had to deal with Sanchez whinging to me about how practice went late, and then Gudgeon ate all our table's muffins again, so I was just going to nick a few from Hufflepuff and then−." He stopped, a smirk sneaking its way across his face. "And then I remembered I was Head Boy, and Head Boys do not steal, so I definitely did not take them from the Hufflepuff table and yet somehow procured them anyway. The end. Anyway, muffin?"
He had placed the cups on the desk in front of her and was now dangling the open bag under her nose.
"You're just trying to make me an accessory to your crime."
"They're cranberry streusel."
"Consider yourself accessorized." She nabbed one of the muffins out of the bag. "And the cups?"
He quickly rounded her, settling into the chair on her right. "One is hot cocoa and the other is the strongest tea known to Muggle and wizard-kind that only one human I have ever met could possibly stomach."
She grinned, snagging the latter with a chirp, "Thank you!"
He nudged her leg with his knee, allowing his limb to stay pressed up against hers underneath the table. "Honestly, Evans, you have such little faith. Give a bloke some credit."
Gahhh, the touching. She straightened.
"Well, look at you−you're a mess!" She meant to sound sterner, and it aggravated her quite a lot how soft and endeared her voice came out. He was a very cute mess, after all. She was meant to be annoyed about something, right? Ah, yes: "And...and late."
It also aggravated her quite a lot how heavily she tended to lean toward this stodgy, not-very-Lily version of herself whenever he got too close these days. It was just that they were too close all the time now, and adding a layer of separation−something that kept them as opposites, reminded her that he had once just been Potter and not James−was really all that was keeping her wits about her.
"But I brought you a pastry. A pastry with streusel." He was pouting.
"All right, all right." She drawled. "I suppose it's fine."
"Like, legitimately fine? Or 'poke-needles-in-your-Potter voodoo doll fine?"
She stroked her chin thoughtfully. "On the one hand, I am getting fairly rusty with the voodoo craft these days. But it would be a bit mean to saddle Madam Pomfrey with your whinging so close to the holidays. Hmm, tough call..."
"Rather nice not feeling those phantom pains anymore, if I have any say that is."
Before she could retaliate, a polite tapping interrupted them.
Genie Hughes stood at the door, as bright and shiny as if an actual ray of light followed her around wherever she went. Mary had once called Genie a tart in fifth year, but it had coincided too neatly to Genie's visit to Hogsmeade with Mary's ex-boyfriend, Tim Davies, for Lily to give it too much merit. Bubbly and popular, and Ravenclaw Quidditch captain to boot, Genie was the type of girl who could easily inspire envy and misplaced malice. She'd never bothered Lily, though, who had always found her to be perfectly sweet and an affable confidante among her fellow prefects.
"Hi, Genie," Lily greeted. "Everything all right with your schedule this week?"
"Yup, all squared. Everything has been so mad this year and you both have been doing such a nice job accommodating everyone. I really appreciate it."
Lily was about to respond in kind when the other girl continued.
"That's actually not why I'm here, though." Her face flushed a bit, and her smile grew wider as she reached into her jacket pocket. "James, you left your gloves on the pitch this morning. I tried to catch up with you, but you were in such a hurry. My team would consider their return high treason, so let's keep this hush hush, yeah?"
The Head Boy let out a good natured laugh, to which Genie Hughes beamed.
It turned out Genie's bright smile was decidedly less charming when it was focused on James Potter.
"Well, ten points to Ravenclaw for good sportsmanship," James had stood to retrieve his gloves, but swiveled back to Lily when he'd reached the door. "I can do that, right?"
Lily forced a smile. "Are you going to ask me that every time?"
"We're only in December; I'm sure by April or so I'll be over it." He turned back to Genie to accept the proffered glove. "Hughes, with enemies like you, who needs friends? You're a gem."
If at all possible, Genie's smile grew even wider. "I'd hardly call us enemies. I much prefer 'well meaning competitors who are actually quite fond of one another.'"
And before she could curate a more preferable reaction (and truly, even scalding herself with hot tea would've been preferable), Lily found herself letting out a very audible "mehhhhh".
James and Genie both turned to look at her, the latter looking truly quizzical while her co-Head was raising an amused eyebrow.
"Sorry?" prompted Genie.
"I...well, speaking on behalf of my house, I have to consider our rank for the Cup this year, and I just would consider you...and when I say you, I don't mean just you, Genie, but the whole Ravenclaw team...maybe even all Ravenclaws in general...as, er, the enemy." Lily paused for a moment, forcing her lips into what she hoped was an affable smile. "But that's just my viciously competitive side talking, carry on…"
And of course Genie, being the bloody delight that she was, held up her fists and made a good natured jab in Lily's directions, laughing all the while. "Watch out, Lily, we're coming for you!"
James laughed, too, but he was still eyeing her curiously.
Shit, shit, shit.
Genie continued to linger in the doorway, her body angled toward James. Lily noticed her sweep a lock of hair behind her ear. Her hands were fidgeting.
"I'm so looking forward to Slughorn's Christmas party, aren't you? I'd hate to ruin the surprise, but I heard a rumor that−"
"Glynnis Griffiths is coming?" James looked doubtful. "She hasn't made the rounds in ages - I highly doubt Sluggy has lured her out from the blissful repose of retirement to rub elbows at his annual brown noser's bash."
Lily made a noise of exasperation from her chair. "Don't let him fool you, Genie. He's just being dramatic since he knows he has to attend this year. Professor Slughorn actually has many incredibly talented friends and acquaintances, so I wouldn't be surprised at all if she was coming."
"See? I don't want to get my hopes up, but I would just die if I met her." Here, Genie, paused for a moment and briefly glanced toward the floor. "I hear that people are bringing dates. Are either of you bringing someone?"
Lily swallowed, a wave of hot discomfort swarming her senses.
James spoke first, his voice mercifully light. "I'd figured Evans and I are a package deal these days. Makes Filch nervous if I don't maintain a certain radius to her. He thinks I'm staging a coup."
Genie giggled, but it was a bit too loud. "You're such a laugh. You'll, um, you'll just have to come and find me if you spot Glynnis, yeah?"
"He was only kidding." Lily added, almost immediately wishing she hadn't.
A brief silence ensued, and Lily felt a sudden compulsion to fill the gap with whatever she could.
"Genie, I wish we could all have a proper chat, but we are just so busy. Swamped. Up to our..er...ears in paperwork, and...and such."
"And such?" questioned James.
"Indeed." Lily bit her lip.
"Oh, of course. See you, Lily. Bye, James!" Genie raised a slender hand to wave and then turned on her heel.
No longer trusting her mouth, Lily closed her lips in the best smile she could muster. James had closed the door behind their guest and made his way back to their desk. He picked up the patrol schedules he was meant to be reviewing, giving Lily at least one whole blessed minute of sweet relief to think that he was going to let her odd behavior slide.
"I've got to say, Evans, I had no idea you felt so passionately about the Cup."
At least he was ignoring that last bit. The knot in her stomach began to unwind. All she had to do was act natural.
"I suppose I'm just full of surprises like that. There's plenty you don't know about me."
James snorted. "I beg to differ. I am practically an encyclopedia on the topic of Lily Evans."
Her smile relaxed. "You are not. I should've never taught you what an encyclopedia was."
"Sure I am! Lily Catherine Evans was born January 29th, 1960…"
Lily placed a palm to her chest, mock aghast. "You mean you know my birthday? Wow. I thought I'd take that one to the grave. You're good."
"It's an important fact. 'Sides, I bet you don't know my birthday."
"You convinced Sir Cadogan to make it the tower's password for nearly three weeks in fourth year, so, I do, actually−it was quite unavoidable."
At that, James smirked. "I don't recall, but that certainly sounds like something I would do."
"Something annoying, you mean?" Lily grinned full on at him and he laughed.
"All right, all right−stop distracting me, Evans. Didn't you hear we are up to our eyes in paperwork and such?" His tone was mild and teasing, but that didn't stop her cheeks from going pink.
"We are busy," she insisted, picking up a large stack of papers and placing them in front of him. "In fact, you can start cross checking the prefect's schedules against the patrols we drew up yesterday. Stebbins has been practically accosting me in the corridors, claiming we are deprioritizing his requests. It's absolute bollocks and he knows it!"
James groaned, his chin lifting proudly. "Stebbins is a nob, agreed. So why are we going to cater to his every whim? It's only going to make him worse. We're ace at this, and I'll have no one accuse us otherwise."
She rolled her eyes, sighing. "I'll not have the good name of Gryffindor slandered under our watch."
"You know, your righteousness is one of my least favorite things about you."
"Oh? And what else is on the list?"
A grin spread wide across his face, ducking quickly out of view as he leaned in front of her to scribble on a spare bit of parchment. Within a few moments, he had popped his head back and cleared his throat pointedly.
She read it, and immediately felt a slow creep of heat burn up her neck.
My Least Favorite Things About Lily
Her righteousness
^Nothing else, that's it. She's perfect.
And with this renewed discomfort, this small flit of nerves, she backtracked.
"Quit buttering me up, Potter−it's not going to get you out of checking the schedules."
James gave her a funny look, one that she couldn't quite pinpoint. It only lasted a moment, though, before his usual easy manner returned. "Fine, if you want to live in a world where Stebbins wins, who am I to be the voice of reason?"
Not allowing herself to dignify his ribbing with a laugh, she merely allowed her lips to quirk before focusing in on the week's patrol infractions. A few minutes lapsed in silence, both of them (in theory) lost to their work. And then−because damn it, she honestly could not help herself, Lily said:
"Genie's nice, huh?"
James was still studying the schedule, his brows knit together. "Erm...sorry, say that again?"
"I was just saying how nice Genie is. Almost too nice really, yeah? Like 'oh, enough already with you'." She paused, swallowing. "She's just so nice, right?" God, Lily.
James raised his eyes, blinking. "Oh, er yeah, Genie's brill."
She felt a swooping in her stomach.
Genie's brill.
You're perfect.
"You know…" She paused. "It seems she fancies you."
He gave her a strange look. "Genie?"
Lily crossed her arms. "Don't be daft, of course. She was hinting that she wants you take her to Slughorn's."
James's eyebrows had knit together but the rest of his face was unreadable, frustratingly so.
He shifted in his seat, quiet. And then finally: "You, er, you think so?"
"It's quite obvious."
"No, I mean−you think I should ask her?"
She breathed in through her nose, holding the breath in her throat for an added beat. He was watching her carefully and she was terribly conscious of the flush that she was sure would soon overtake her face.
She forced a smile. "Absolutely."
Whoever said this was the most wonderful time of the year was a right foul prat, indeed.
"Let me see if I have this straight−you told him to ask Genie Hughes−tarty Genie Hughes−to Slughorn's party?"
"Firstly, she is not a tart. And I was figuring that if he fancied someone else and I knew they were together, then all of this mooning over him would just...sort itself. It was all very in the moment, Mare." "
"Never in the history of crushes, ever, has it worked out that way."
After spending the rest of her weekend in a tizzy of overanalysis and self doubt−oh, and pretty much becoming a hermit in order to avoid James−Lily had decided she was going to start Monday off on the right foot. That plan had already gone a tad awry, as she had word vomited the entire tale to her friend Mary Macdonald in the spare minutes before Potions started.
"Well, there's a first time for everything, right? Maybe I will start a trend."
Lily now busied herself with setting up her cauldron and supplies, avoiding Mary's incredulous stare.
Never one to be satisfied with being ignored, her friend let out a dramatic sigh. "I hope you realize that you've only left yourself with one option now."
Lily's eyes widened. "Mary, I am not telling him how I feel. Not after that. Haven't I embarrassed myself enough?"
The other girl scoffed. "Course not. But you can't just show up alone now and be the sad sack in the corner, now can you?"
"I would not be a sad sack−."
"Miss Evans!" Professor Slughorn had swept into his classroom in his usual effusive manner, making a beeline for their table. "Very fortunate I'm seeing you first thing this morning. Do you know you're the only guest who is yet to RSVP to the Christmas party? Now I don't want to go dropping hints, but there may be certain special guests in attendance that I know you wouldn't want to miss."
"I'm sorry, Professor, it's been a mad weekend." Lily hoped her smile wasn't as weary as she felt. "I'm definitely coming."
Slughorn's face lit up. "Ah! Excellent, silly of me to worry. I am making the final touches to our seating arrangement and I need to have everything just so for our special guests, you see? Now tell me, dear girl, who will be having the great privilege to squire you to my affair?"
"Oh, she will be squired, Professor," piped up Mary.
"Mare-." warned Lily.
"Of course she will! And that is excellent because a good soiree is like a potion−everything in the exact right amount and you make the perfect evening. Our count will be exactly even, everyone in a pair. Symmetry is important, girls."
Exactly even. Everyone in a pair.
Okay, so maybe she would not be starting a trend. Oh god, her chest ached. What the hell had she been thinking? All she'd had to do was keep quiet, accept that they'd be going as Heads, as friends, but instead she'd made everything so, so much worse.
You're perfect.
Everyone in a pair.
Genie's brill.
Slughorn and Mary were talking again, but her hearing felt fuzzy. What was he saying now? Focus.
"An interesting choice, my dear! I have to admit I'm quite excited. Do you know I've invited him to the Slug Club for years and he's never accepted?"
"You know, Lily was just saying how there's a first time for everything. Right, Lil?" Mary was grinning at her wickedly.
Lily blinked, then blinked again. What? "Huh?'
"Miss Macdonald tells me you'll be bringing Sirius Black to my party. First time for everything, indeed. This may just be my best party yet."
Fucking hell.