A/N: (Edit) It was midnight, and I had this massive urge to write something down-right dirty, and that was based around Christmas and giving gifts and all that jazz and then I was like, "Well, I already have a fic about a present, received," – I literally started talking to myself – and decided to extend this to a three-shot.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but my overactive emotions. Chapter titles from Only If For A Night by Florence + the Machine. Also the image is not mine, I found it on fanpop.

January 30th, 1977

.

You approach her slowly, quietly. She laughs loudly with her friends and you say her name softly. She turns, looks at you, emerald meeting hazel, and – in all honesty – you're shocked to see the glow of happiness doesn't leave her eyes as they rest on you.

"Yeah?"

The two of you have been getting along better ever since Flitwick paired you in Charms for the Michaelmas term where you had to do work outside of class and she found that you actually weren't that bad, despite a couple of false starts. You'd apologised for the OWL incident, and she had too, (unnecessarily in your opinion) and she'd even admitted in her round-a-bout way that she'd missed you over the holidays when she'd gone home for Christmas.

And so because you're friends, and friends give each other things, you hand her the present, a modest box containing an outrageous present that you really probably shouldn't have got her, it was a definite mistake, and now she's grinning up at you, questioning, and tearing off the paper with a smile, biting her lip, and you really shouldn't have got it for her and you should take it back and fucking hell, she's opening the box and bloody Merlin -

The smile disappears.

You're not entirely sure how she looks now.

But… it's not a bad look. In fact, you'd say it's a happy look.

A very happy look.

"Thank you," she breathes. "Potter, it's beautiful!" Despite your insistence, you're still Potter, but you know that the day you become James will be worth the wait. It's lifted from the box, the charm fingered, rested in her palm. She giggles. "It's perfect!"

She undoes the clasp and hands you the two ends. "Put it on!" she insists, face alight with joy.

"What, on me?" you ask, smirking.

"No, on me, idiot," she giggles, turning away and twisting her hair up off her nape. You resist the urge to run your hands over the creamy skin, instead settling for resting your fingers gently on her neck as you tremble to do up the necklace.

"How did you know?"

"Know what?"

"A doe - it's my Patronus. How did you know?"

Your heart soars and you feel a grin rising to your face. You try and fail to arrange your features into a look of unconvincing nonchalance.

"Lucky guess, I suppose," you shrug. She gives you an odd look, trying to decipher your expression, but gives up and decides on a hug instead. It's when she has her arms around your neck, her lips brushing your skin for the smallest moment that you realise.

You'll never get over Lily Evans, no matter how hard you try.

And you're really not sure that you want to.

Reviews are having all four complete series of Merlin on DVD so you can look at Bradley James' beautiful face any time you so wish to do.