a/n: written for hogwarts, assignment 8, muggle history, task 7: write about forgiveness, as well as the extra prompt of (situation) a winter ball. special thank-you to shay for inspiring this :) (wc: 1323)

Shivers ran down Lily's spine that had very little to do with the bitter chill outside. Snowflakes swirled in a winter breeze, chasing each other across the bleak, heather-grey sky. Frost lined the window, and as Lily allowed her splayed fingers to linger on it for a brief moment, they were nipped by the exceedingly cold air.

Oddly enough, as Marlene McKinnon swept past her, the satin skirt of her dress rustling against Lily, asking if she wanted a shawl, Lily simply shook her head.

Outside might have been a whirl of ice and snow, but within Lily, a fire blazed.

Her emerald eyes were piercing as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror. While the other girls were ecstatic at the idea of a Christmas ball, all Lily could think about was how awful it was going to be to have to see James there.

He went to the school, after all, Lily reminded herself, much as she'd been attempting to avoid him these last few weeks.

He hadn't done anything to her, not in the slightest.

But something had been done to her, something that sent her heart aflutter and her tongue in knots every time she encountered him.

Perhaps tonight, she decided, fastening a jeweled bracelet around her wrist, she would figure out why.

Set with newfound determination, Lily slipped her feet into a pair of silk heels. Yes. Tonight she would confront James Potter and she would tell him that -

That -

Well, she'd tell him something.

Satisfied with that, at least, Lily grabbed her purse and hurried to catch up with Marlene.

The orchestra filled the Great Hall with the rich sound of string music, so loud and full it reverberated through Lily and her head thrummed slightly from the sheer volume of it.

She turned towards Marlene to comment on it, but her friend had already disappeared into the throng of students that crowded the center, swaying in time to the music.

She was surprised to find James not deep within that crowd, but rather off to the side, a bottle in one hand, dragging the other through his slightly matted hair.

Almost of their own accord, Lily's feet crossed the distance between them.

He spun to face her, a lazy smile stretching across his lips.

Lily noticed that his eyes seemed somewhat animated, bright to the point of crazed. Her own eyes landed once more on the bottle as she arched a brow.

"Lily!" he drawled, bracing a hand on the table beside him. "So good to see you here," the words tumbled out, seemingly unchecked.

"I wanted to - " she was not sure if the pounding was the music or her heart. "To talk to you," she stammered. And before she could stop herself the rest of the words came pouring out, about how she was feeling and how he made her feel, and that she didn't understand it, but there was a chance that maybe, just maybe, she'd like to try to.

Green eyes wide, imploring, she finally stopped talking.

And waited.

And then he laughed, a rueful, uncontrolled sound.

Her heart skipped a beat. That was not the reaction she had expected, not what she had hoped for.

To have everything brushed aside as though it was a joke.

"Lily…" he said again, and then he hiccuped before dissolving into another fit of laughter.

Merlin, what was in that bottle? As he took another swig Lily caught a sharp, lingering scent. Firewhisky.

Undeniably so.

James Potter was drunk, and Lily had just confided in him some of her most serious and intimate thoughts.

She turned away, struggling to keep her chin lifted, to keep her composure.

He had laughed.

As though her feelings were nothing but a joke.

Perhaps they were.

She did not say goodbye before walking away.

The first thing James was fully aware of was the headache. Piercing and throbbing, it felt as though his skull was being cleaved in two.

The night before was a hazy mess of memories, tangled up in one another as he sat up, trying to piece together his thoughts.

Pulsating music, hastily tied ties, and emerald eyes.

Lily Evans had said something to him, something he couldn't recall.

At the time he'd found it utterly hilarious, though she did not seem to share his sentiment.

In fact, if he was recalling correctly, James was fairly sure she had walked away after that. He hadn't the slightest idea why, and it was only once he was awake and stumbling down to the common room with Sirius did the words she'd said come flooding back to him.

I think there's a feeling I can't pinpoint. I'd like to try and figure things out, though. With you.

And he had laughed.

Merlin, he was such an idiot.

An idiot and an ass and a damned fool, because -

That had been one of the sweetest things she - or anyone, really - had ever said to him. One of the most genuine.

And he'd laughed it off with a bottle of Firewhisky.

He had to find her.

Lily was one of the few students who had dared to venture outside. She walked along the frozen Black Lake, her burgundy boots leaving footprints in the freshly fallen snow.

How could she have been so foolish? Clearly, James didn't feel the same way, and now she had no idea how she could ever look at him again.

She unwound her scarf, embracing the bitter chill of the wind as it swept over her, lifting her auburn hair and frosting her eyelashes over.

She could still hear the music from last night, accentuated by his laugh. Once a sound she loved to hear, now all she could feel was complete and utter mortification.

She was so tangled up within her own thoughts that she did not hear the voice calling her name until she felt the person's warm breath near her ear, seeing the fog it had created float past her face.

She whirled around - and stumbled back a step as none other than James greeted her. "Lily!" he said, beaming. "I've been looking all over for you!"

He came up beside her, slowing his slightly breathless pace in order to match hers.

"You have?" she replied, trying her best to sound nonchalant.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I wanted to talk about last night, actually…"

His effervescent confidence faltered for a brief moment.

Lily stopped in her tracks, barely remembering to conjure up an aloof, uncaring expression as she uttered a simple, "oh."

"And I wanted - " he paused, dragging a hand through his hair. His hazel eyes darted to the sky before he finished, "to apologize. I heard what you said and that was…" All signs of his usual mischief were gone, replaced by a serious look of intensity. "That was brilliant, actually."

Lily could hardly hear him over her thudding heartbeat. She swallowed hard, waiting for him to continue.

"So, I'm sorry for being such a prick about the whole thing," James said rushedly. "Anyway." He stuffed his hands into his pockets.

Lily opened her mouth. Searched for the words. But nothing came.

"Anyway," James said again. "I'll see you later, I guess?"

All Lily could manage was a nod.

James turned away, heading back towards the castle. She watched him until he disappeared somewhere within the mass of stone, before reaching up to adjust her scarf as a particularly violent gust of wind blew past. She only managed to tug on the ends of the fabric before her hand fell away.

The bitter chill was gone, but it was not anger nor nerves that had dissipated it this time. Her cheeks bloomed crimson, eyes burning bright.

It was not the fire from last night now, but the sun.

Lily basked in its rays and let a smile warm her face.