A/N: Temperatures are dropping a bit here in my little corner of the world, so here is some snowy sixth year fluff of our favourite little Gryffindors.

**Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the world that J.K. Rowling has so kindly welcomed us into.

"So do you want to tell me why you're sitting in the snow all alone when I saw you walking down the alley with Will Speckman a few hours ago?" James Potter casually slid down the brick wall next to the sodden redhead. He grimaced as his rear hit the snow, immediately feeling the cold seep through his trousers. "Or should I guess?"

Lily refused to look at him and chose to scowl instead. She seemed to be offended by the glimmering Christmas lights and jovial sounds coming from the rest of Hogsmeade. "His hands are huge."

James snorted. "What?"

Lily suddenly turned towards James, her green eyes alive with passion. "Speckman! His hands are huge. He tried to hold my hand and my fingers were almost ripped apart!"

James didn't hesitate, widening his eyes in seemingly serious surprise, saying, "Let me see." He grabbed her hand and investigated it. "Oh, yes," he mused, thoughtfully. "You really should get this checked out, Evans. There's blood everywhere. I'm no Pomfrey, but I do say that if this isn't professionally looked at it within the hour, you'll likely be dead."

Lily jerked her hand away and nudged him with her shoulder. "Oh, sod off. It was just a really rotten date is all."

"Rotten is your date being half an hour late or missing your lips on your first kiss. Will Speckman is a downright depression."

Lily scowled. "Thank you, Potter. I feel better already."

"Something tells me, Evans," he began again, "this isn't just about his abnormally sized hands." It was his turn to nudge her shoulder. He allowed his arm to stay pressed against hers, unsure if the warmth radiating from her was tangible or imagined. He took in the busyness of Hogsmeade ahead of them and quickly wondered how there could be so much going on around him, yet all he really wanted to do was lean against a building in the snow all day and talk with a particularly snarky witch. "What happened?"

Lily stared ahead, chewing on her lip, and rubbing her thumbs on the outside of the mug of warm butterbeer she was holding. James watched as several emotions danced across her face, before she finally said, softly, "He's a bit...prejudiced…"

James immediately felt his body heat up. That tosser. If Speckman had possessed the nerve to comment on Lily's blood status—Merlin, on a date—then he was ugly and stupid. He turned to Lily, prepared to jump into a spiel on boys being idiots and how she didn't deserve to be—

"He hates werewolves."

What?

"Actually, he thinks they pose a danger to society and would like to see them stripped of all human rights, because they're—and I quote—fucked up dogs with an appetite for blood." Lily shuddered as she repeated the harsh words of her date.

James felt an entirely new heat rising up in him, immediately lending his thoughts toward Remus. With all of the blood status rubbish being in the headlines every day, it was infuriating to hear people talk about things they actually knew nothing about. It wasn't that James hadn't heard his fair share of disparaging comments toward his best mate, but that didn't make it any more okay. Speckman had it coming if he thought he could deprecate Remus without support.

Before he could consider how to retaliate against the Ravenclaw idiot, a new thought hit James with equal force. He jerked to look at Lily. Her green orbs were already staring back at him, full of empathy, as she bit her lip in anticipation of his surprise.

Merlin.

"I know," she said, quietly. She closed her eyes and scrunched up her nose, pulling her light dusting of freckles into a particularly interesting constellation, James noticed. "I know."

The sixth year boy took a breath. "How long?"

"Fourth year." She pulled her legs up to her chest, stabilizing her butter beer on her knees. "I had suspected for a while, but Cragenmeier's Astronomy group assignment confirmed it."

James nodded, slowly, recalling the unit on lunar cycles and how antsy it had made Remus. As soon as Professor Cragenmeier had introduced the topic to the class, Remus had excused himself in a hurry and had spent the rest of the day vomiting in the hospital wing. He claimed a bad round of pumpkin juice at breakfast and most students didn't think to consider the fact that the majority of Gryffindor had drank out of the same pitcher and maintained their health.

Remus had spent every night for two weeks in the boys' dorm worried that someone—anyone—would make the connection between the lunar cycle and where and what Remus had been doing once a month, every month. Apparently, his fears had not been completely unfounded.

"Does he…"

"No," she said quickly. "I wanted him to be the one to tell me. It hasn't happened yet, but I like to think that one day, he'll trust me enough with it. And if he doesn't…well that's all right, too." As an afterthought, she turned to James and blurted, "I haven't told anyone. I wouldn't do that. To Remus."

"I know."

The two teenagers sat in silence for a few moments, observing Hogsmeade. James vaguely considered the fact that Lily had never moved her arm back away from his. A couple of third years ran by, laughing, at a distance so close that James had to quickly pull his legs in to avoid tripping them. As they leaned against the back wall of The Three Broomsticks, loud Christmas music could be heard in short bursts, every time the door opened to a new customer. The lights adorning every rooftop and doorway glittered and sparkled, even though it was the middle of the day.

Lily broke the quiet, first. "So, yeah. I just…didn't feel like spending the rest of my day with Speckman."

James held back a smile of admiration. "So where's the git now?"

"Don't know." She took a sip of her butterbeer. "Don't care. I left him outside Honeyduke's half an hour ago."

A gust of wind picked up and both wizards lowered their heads and closed their eyes to brace for the sharp chill. Lily buttoned the top button of her coat to safeguard her neck while James tried, in vain, to shove his hands in the shallow pockets of his trousers. Afters several sharp attempts, he sighed in defeat and lifted his hands to his mouth, blowing slow, hot air into them. Lily tilted her head toward the messy-haired boy.

"Where's your coat?"

He picked at the flimsily woven material on his shoulders. "Right here."

Lily rolled her eyes and shoved against him again. "That's a cardigan, you twat. It's below freezing; didn't you look outside this morning?"

James' mouth twitched. "I did in fact look outside this morning, Evans. And I did in fact begin my day with a more adequate coat, but we can't all be Miss Perfect Prefect and I seem to have misplaced it in the course of the day."

"Well, it's a rather stupid day to be inane." Lily took another sip of her hot drink and looked at him, coyly, out the corner of her eyes. "But I suppose you can't help it at this point. It's just your nature."

"If inane means devilishly handsome and charming as hell, you are absolutely right. My nature, indeed."

Her light laugh rang out and James's own smile grew in reaction. "How'd you manage to convince Rosmerta to let you out here with that anyway?" he said, gesturing toward her mug. "I thought I was the only one to flirt my way out of Rosie's rules."

"Everyone knows that she likes Sirius more than you, Potter, so don't flatter yourself." She flashed him a snarky smile. "Sorry to ruin your fantasies, but no flirting was involved. What Rosie doesn't know can't hurt her, right? I needed to be alone for a bit, so I just grabbed the mug and came out here. I'll take it back in before I head to the castle."

"Tsk, tsk, Evans. Didn't your mother ever tell you—"

"Oi! POTTER! Did Ben just run by here?!" a new voice, breathless and high-pitched, interrupted. Third-year Grant McGuire placed his hands on his knees as he leaned forward and took deep breaths. He looked at James, red-faced and in obvious distress.

"Sorry, mate, but I haven't seen him since the battle! Sirius is inside, maybe ask him, eh?"

"Right! Thanks!" the third year yelled in retreat, already at a full sprint as he rounded the corner to enter The Three Broomsticks.

Lily turned toward James with a devilish grin. "The battle? Oh, do tell."

James gave a sheepish short of smile, an uncharacteristic bit of pink creeping into his cheeks. "Well, erm…Sirius and I agreed to have a bit of a snowball fight with some of the second and third years before we left Hogwarts's grounds this morning."

"I will one hundred percent regret saying this, but that may be the most adorable thing I have ever heard." She took another sip of her butterbeer, amused at the pink she observed coloring the tops of his ears. "James Potter, don't you dare go and get nice on me after all this time. I've spent far too many years putting you in a box of debauchery. I detest being wrong, y'know…"

James's grin grew. "I'm not proud of it, believe me, Evans. I really do strive to live up to the reputation you've created for me. But being a despicable git can be a bit of a task and I must admit that I occasionally find myself accidentally stepping into territory you may call… nice." He gave an exaggerated shudder as Lily laughed. Her giggle quickly turned into a gasp as another gust of wind appeared and chilled the bones of the two teenagers.

James tucked his hands under his arms and chattered, "You could've picked a less exposed place, y'know, Evans."

"You could've kept your damn jacket instead of playing hero and giving it to Grant, y'know, Potter," she quipped back without hesitation, popping a cocky eyebrow in his direction.

He jerked his head back to look at her. "What was that?"

She shoved her shoulder into his again, for the sake of warmth, of course. "Oh, shut up. I don't recall you giving up your captaincy to Grant McGuire of third year. So, puzzle me this, Potter: how did he end up with a Quidditch coat with an obnoxiously large C emblazoned on the day you happened to misplace a similar one? You wear that god forsaken piece of material everywhere, so I think I know your Quidditch coat when I see it."

James sighed in defeat. "He was really shoddily dressed, okay? The idiot didn't even bother with a cardigan or a jumper!"

"James Potter, that is two marks against your debauchery within one Saturday."

"Stick with me and who knows what else you'll see," he winked back.

"You asking me out again, Potter?" She tried to ignore the way her heart picked up as she taunted him. It wasn't as if she was hoping for him to miss the joking nature of it and take the inquiry seriously. Of course not.

"Nah, I heard you're picky about hand size. If Speckman didn't make the cut, I sure as hell won't. As a chaser, I tend to have pretty massive hands, Evans. Not sure if you could handle them."

"I'll have to be the judge," Lily reached for his hand before pulling back with a sharp intake of breath. "Merlin, Potter, your hands are ice!" She reached toward both hands this time, a little more timidly, placing her warm mug of butter beer in his hands and wrapping his fingers around the base. "There. You need it more than me."

James watched her, frozen, his hazel eyes locked on the way her small hands caressed his large, calloused ones. "Y'know, Evans," he started, a bit shakily, "you better be careful or people may find out you're nice, too."

"It's a dangerous world we live in, James Potter." She pulled her hands away from his and leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes. A small smile formed on her lips. "We may just have to risk it. This whole nice thing."

For a moment, he considered leaning his own back next to hers and spending the rest of the day enjoying the warmth and joy that is Lily Evans. They hadn't had a conversation this lengthy or cordial in all of their time at Hogwarts, and although they had certainly made progress in their friendship this year, it was still a slippery slope. James had a definite knack for recklessness, but with matters of a particular redhead, he was willing to be cautious.

So, he placed Lily's mug back into her own hands and stood up, pulling his cardigan tighter around his torso and dusting the snow off of his trousers."Well, Evans, I'm sorry you had to discover Speckman's idiocy in such a distasteful way, but I think this day saved you from a good bit of misery as the potential Mrs. Speckman. Besides, his complexion with your hair? Those children would be hideous. You're not just saving yourself, Evans. Think of the children."

She didn't open her eyes, but her smile grew. "Go cause trouble with your mates, Potter. I've got my butterbeer and a book. I'm a happy girl."

"You sure? Being alone on Hogsmeade isn't any fun, you can always come inside and sit with—"

"I'm fine, Potter." She peaked an eye open and offered him a smile. "You've got two strikes against you today. Unless you go blow something up or piss of Fortescue immediately, you'll be stripped of Marauder status."

"You don't have that power, Evans."

She picked up a handful of snow and lazily tossed it at him with a smirk. "Wait until I tell the school that you wrote two extra pages for the Transfiguration report last week just for fun."

Hope you enjoyed! Please review if you feel so inclined. :)