It was Boxing Day, and our large farmhouse was covered in snow. The rag-taggle roof tiles poked their noses through the thick pile that had settled upon the roof, and the winding, York stone path that led to the bright green door was startlingly white, dotted with the first few footsteps of that morning.

The surrounding fields were pure – they would stay perfect, up until the moment someone chose to amble across them. Then, beyond the fields was the forest. It could be from a storybook – tall, dark trees with twisting, gnarled limbs and long, encroaching roots. I'd spent my childhood in that forest; playing hide-and-seek with Petunia at first, for that was all she wanted to play – but then I met Sev, and we spent long hours lounging on the grass, dangling our feet in the lake and catching minnows.

The view was the first thing I saw that morning – I had fallen asleep on my window seat with my cheek pressed against the shockingly cold window. My neck complained loudly as I sat up, yawning and trying to get some feeling back into my knees. Wincing, I changed out of my crumpled reindeer dress from Christmas the day before and into a temporary jeans and robin jumper – running a brush through my red hair.

Downstairs, I peered impatiently out the window whilst the kettle boiled, and let my tea steep for too long as I watched the clockticking. I said goodbye to Petunia whilst craning my neck over her shoulder, looking down the path, and gave her an awkward hug (because that's what sisters are supposed to do) whilst wondering when on earth he'd show.

I'd spent Christmas with my muggle family, wishing I wasn't there. It wasn't that I didn't like all my cousins and aunts and uncles and nieces and nephews – it was that I didn't like being a muggle. I mean, how on earth did I survive for the eleven years before I went to Hogwarts? Anyway, Petunia had gone to her boyfriend, the horrendously dull Vernon's house, and this year Mum and Dad had agreed to let me invite all my wondrously entertaining wizarding-world friends over for a Boxing Day Christmas party.

As I ate my toast and sipped my overly-steeped tea, I continued to look out the window at the path. James should appear just beyond the rickety wooden gate at any moment, as he had offered to come early and help me sort everything out. It was a pathetic excuse – but I was happy to accept it. It had been far too long since we'd last seen each other.

It wasn't until an hour later, when I was engrossed in a cheesy American Christmas film and absent-mindedly waving my wand to clear away the dirty dishes, that the sudden appearance of a young man with scruffy black hair and brown eyes that were magnified under his large glasses on the path – just beyond the rickety wooden gate – caught my eye. He was quickly followed by Mr and Mrs Potter, bundled up in all manner of things woollen.

I rushed to the door, flung it open and beamed at them. "I was beginning to think you'd never show up!" I laughed as James enveloped me in a hug.

"Yes, sorry about that Lily. We got a bit delayed when the neighbours knocked on the door with a plate of mince pies." Mr Potter apologised, smiling as he trotted inside. "Although… not to say I don't like mince pies. I love mince pies, me." He added as the wire rack of cooling mince pies caught his eye.

I smiled to myself as James put his arm around my shoulder. "Would you like a mince pie, Mr Potter?" I offered wryly.

He pretended to be taken aback. "W- well, I don't mind if I do. Thank you, Lily." He chuckled to himself as he selected a slightly warped mince pie and took a large bite. "Yum."

Mrs Potter rolled her eyes as she began to unwrap the many layers of woollen items from herself. "Leave some for the rest of us, dear."

I laughed whole-heartedly and rested my head against James' chest. I loved being around the Potters – they were so different to occasions at my house, what with frosty Petunia and Mum stressed half to death she screamed at everyone, mostly Dad. Mr and Mrs Potter were aurors, still going strong. Mrs Potter looked as if in her day she was stunningly beautiful, and she still had a kind of regal grace, even if there was a long, white scar splitting her left cheek in half. Mr Potter was charming, his hair already a mixture of light brown and white and his brown eyes generally twinkling with mirth.

After Mr Potter wiped the last of the mince pie crumbs of his moustache, there followed the general exchanging of pleasantries as Mum and Dad came into the kitchen, and I filled up the kettle for some tea.

The rest of the morning was spent talking and laughing with the Potters, and then James helped me decorate the house, with much giggling and – at one point – James almost took my eye out. At four o'clock when the light was beginning to fade, Lucy Abbot – one of my best friends from Hogwarts – and her husband William rang the doorbell. The moment I opened it I was met with the high-pitched screams of a wailing baby, and Lucy smiled apologetically at me.

"Sorry Lil' – she doesn't seem to like sidelong apparition much."

I assured her it was fine and gestured for them to come into the warmth of our kitchen, where Dad and Mr Potter were playing Wizard Chess at the table (Dad couldn't get enough of it) and Mum and Mrs Potter were gossiping whilst preparing the supper.

Lucy had been in Hufflepuff, but we had bonded one Care of Magical Creatures lesson when her robes had ripped on the unicorn's horn and her white daisy knickers had been revealed for all the year to see. She'd flushed red as a beetroot and I'd accompanied her to back to the Hufflepuff common room, waiting outside while she changed and assuring her that it hadn't been too bad. We'd laughed about it afterwards of course, but she always kept her distance from the animals in lessons from then on.

By five o'clock Sirius, Remus and Peter had arrived and the sitting room was bustling with people laughing and catching up, the flickering light from the bright orange flames giving everyone a cosy, wintry feeling, and the bright evergreen holly upon the mantelpiece making me smile proudly (even if it did take several bleeding cuts on my hands before it occurred to me to use magic). I changed into the dress I had picked out for the occasion – it was a deep, green colour that (I hoped) complemented my eyes – and did some basic makeup. James was a sweetheart, telling me I looked breathtaking and kissing me on the lips.

Downstairs the doorbell was going crazy, as first Sev arrived, then Arrabella Brown, her older brother Daniel and lastly, Connie Jordan. Arrabella and Connie were my two best friends from Gryffindor. All through Hogwarts it had been us three along with Lucy, and later we'd bonded with Remus, Sirius and James after James and I got together. Peter had always been there, but none of us four had really liked him.

Once everyone was there we sat down for supper, feasting on a huge turkey with crispy potatoes roasted in goose fat and buttered carrots and parsnips, eighteenth century chestnut stuffing and sage and onion stuffing, pigs in blankets and green beans. Then there were the dreaded Brussels sprouts, which Sirius and James started throwing at each other. We had wizarding Christmas crackers which popped and spurted bright colours like tiny fireworks with white mice crawling out and performing magic tricks. Everyone wore silly, bright coloured hats and won pointless items, and the spotless white tablecloth became dotted with gravy stains and lumps of potato.

Then came the Christmas pudding with a blazing blue flame and both a bronze-knut and a penny hidden inside – one for each side of my life (Remus found the penny and Connie found the knut). There were also mince pies with pastry stars and clouds of icing sugar, and Christmas biscuits in the shapes of dragons and sphinxes and garden gnomes as well as the general reindeer and bells and stars and moons.

Afterwards we all sat in the sitting room with terrible Christmas songs playing in the background and Mum, Dad and I had great fun introducing the wizards to muggle games such as Cluedo, Monopoly, and Scrabble, whilst we drank butter beer and laughed long into the night.

Then it was time for presents! We huddled onto the sofas under the blankets and laughed and showered the room in wrapping paper, and smiled and said 'thank you!' so many times it lost all meaning. It all seemed to go into a blur of happiness and warmth and a full tummy – until it was James' turn to give me his present.

I'd noticed he'd been rather quiet this past hour, and I tried to silently ask him if he was okay as he gave me the tiny parcel (which was terribly wrapped). He averted his eyes, and I felt worried. Was he okay? Everyone was looking at me however, so I unwrapped the present, and immediately forgot about everyone else.

There, in a little blue box, was a delicate, ornate silver ring with a small diamond twinkling out. It was beautiful, and I was speechless.

"Lily Evans," Whispered James. "Will you marry me?"

For a second, I didn't know what to say. I simply gaped at him – and it was only when I saw a flicker of fear in his eyes that I realised I hadn't said anything.

"Yes!" I cried, tears forming in my eyes as I jumped up and kissed him furiously.

Lucy shrieked, and we hugged – dancing happily around the room. Arrabella and Connie joined in, throwing their arms around us and laughing hysterically. Then I was hugging Mum and Dad, and we were all crying – or was I laughing? And then I ran back to James and kissed him again, and did another foolish dance with Connie.

Eventually the ridiculous celebrations faded, and I sat down on the sofa next to James – his arm wrapped tightly around me. I was in a daze of happiness, smiling and snuggling further into my boyfriend's – no, fiancé's – arm. That is, until I saw Sev leave the happy room. He looked crushed, and I felt awful.

Making my excuses, I got up from the warmth of the sofa by the fire and security of James, and went out to the quiet kitchen where Sev was looking glumly out the window. It was shockingly cold in the kitchen, the light more harsh and bright when compared to the golden light of the sitting room, and I could only just about hear the chatter of through the closed door.

"Congratulations." He said in a monotone, never turning around.

I rubbed my arms, feeling horrible. "Sev, I –" But I stopped short. I what? It wasn't like I'd promised myself to him. I sighed. It was all such a horrible mess! I'd always known Sev was in love with me. When I was little, I'd dreamt that one day we'd marry. I shared my first kiss with him, by the lake we'd played in since we were very little, at dusk.

But then I'd started to notice James – notice him more than as 'that irritating boy in all my classes'. I saw that he could be nice, that maybe – just maybe – I liked the scruffy-haired boy with brown eyes and a mischievous smile. Of course, he was also impossibly arrogant and endlessly irritating, what with all his "Hey, Evans, want to go out with me? I'll show you a good time." -wink- "Hey, Evans, you missed me?" -wink- "Hey, Evans, if I'm so bad at potions, how 'bout you give me a few… lessons?" -wink-

Whereas Sev was the sweetest guy I'd ever met – not counting that period of time in early fifth year when he'd called me a mudblood. We'd made up, but in sixth and seventh year we had a proper fallout. It was around that time that he turned into a first class git. It seemed Sev had decided that being a Slytherin made him better than me, and we'd fought bitterly. Regardless, we'd made up and were as close as ever. Except that he loves me. And I love him. I've always loved him – but… as a brother. As a good friend. As a best friend. Yet he was in love with me. And it killed me to have to choose between them… and I had to choose James, because I wouldn't be happy without him.

But even so, it must have been horrible for Sev to watch us get engaged. I yanked agitatedly at a red strand of hair. Why couldn't James have done it in private?

I settled with the safest option. "Sev, I… I'm really sorry you had to see that. Sometimes… sometimes James can be a real arse. I mean, ugh why is he so stupid?! He shouldn't have done that in front of you! It was so dim-witted!"

A smile flickered on Sev's lips. I was the only one who could ever make Sev properly smile, make him properly laugh. "If you say so," He chuckled, looking at me.

"Yeah, I do say so!" I tried to calm down. I wasn't really angry at James, I was angry at the horrible mess I was in. I was in love with James, not angry with him, and although it may not seem like that at times, there was a difference. "Look, Sev, I'm sorry we're in this mess, but… I'm... I'm marrying James."

"I know," He murmured, looking out the window again. "And I'm happy for you, honestly Lily."

The fact that I believed him made me feel like I'd been punched in the stomach. I didn't think there was anyone in the world who was kinder than Severus. And I was breaking his heart.

"I love you, Lily. You know that. And I know that you don't love me. I want you to be happy, Lily. He makes you happy, more than I ever can."

I was openly crying now. How could I go from being so happy, to so upset in the space of two minutes? "Sev…" I whispered.

"Congratulations." He said again, but this time his reflection in the darkened window smiled at me. "Goodbye, Lily."

"Sev, wait!"

But he was gone, apparated somewhere else. I sighed, wiping away my tears. After splashing water on my face to get rid of the puffiness and re-applying makeup, I put on a big smile, grabbed a bottle from the shelf and sauntered into the sitting room.

"Who wants fire-whiskey?!" I sang, and everyone cheered. Mum, Dad and Mr and Mrs Potter took that as their cue for bedtime, and left us young'uns to our mischief. Or something.

Things got a little crazy after that. Arrabella and Sirius started seriously making out under the mistletoe (something we'd never let her forget as she claimed he was unbearable), Peter got a little too drunk and started blindly stumbling around in rat form, his whiskers sticking straight up in the air whenever he hiccupped, and Lucy was giggling at everything everyone said. Connie was seriously hitting on Remus, who was painfully oblivious, and Daniel was snoring in the background.

James and I were in a haze of post-proposal bliss, laughing and kissing and laughing some more. The drunken hilarities lasted long into the night, until Connie and Remus were asleep together on the sofa, her head resting on his shoulder, and Peter was snoring – still a rat – in front of the dying embers of the fire, his stubby little rat-legs spread-eagled around him. Lucy and William had gone to bed (still exhausted from early parenthood) and Sirius and Arrabella had disappeared together. Frankly I didn't want to know what they were doing. Or where.

Ew.

James was half asleep, his glasses still squashed on his face and his hair even more messy than usual. He was adorable when he was sleeping. I disentangled myself from him and went out to the kitchen. Sighing, I opened the door and sat on the front steps, the cold night air biting at my arms.

It was beautiful, the moonlight reflected on the expanse of snow making the night bright, and the air was sharp and fresh. I shivered, rubbing my arms – and that was when the blanket was wrapped around me, and James sat down beside me.

"What are you doing out here?" He asked sleepily.

"Just thinking. Besides, it's beautiful."

He looked right at me. "It is."

I laughed softly. "Please, James, that's so clichéd."

He shrugged and pulled the blanket so it covered him as well. "So, what are you thinking about?"

I leant against his shoulder and sighed. "Oh, James. I love you so much, but why did you have to propose in front of Sev?"

James put his arm round me. "I'll admit, it wasn't my finest moment."

"I feel so bad about him… Oh why does he have to be in love with me?"

He shifted, and sighed. "It'll be alright, Lily love." I looked up at him with hopeful eyes. "You know I've never liked Sniv – I mean, Severus – but, even I have to admit that the guy's not that bad. Give him a haircut, get him to wash once in a while, and I'm sure he'll get another girl, one that he'll care about just as much as he cares for you."

I gazed out at the picturesque scene and smiled at the idea. "You really think so, James?"

He smiled down at me. "Yeah. And we'll get married, and have lots and lots of little Lilies and Jameses," I grinned at that. "And we'll grow old together, and live in a beautiful old house by the sea."

"I don't want to live by the sea." I protested.

He laughed. "Then we'll live somewhere else. A wizarding village, where our children can play on toy brooms in the streets and we can magic the neighbours."

I chuckled. "Sounds wonderful, James Potter."

"Why, yes it does, Lily Potter."

I beamed at the sound of my soon-to-be new name. But then I sighed. "If only it could happen like that."

"It will, Lily. Trust me."

I burrowed into his chest, suddenly exhausted. "You promise?" I asked sleepily.

"I promise." He said, drawing me closer still.

And, you know what? As a fresh shower of snow began to waft lazily down, and my eyelids began to flutter, I believed him.