IT WAS CHRISTMAS EVE
WordCount: 1331
Author: Potty and Weasel
Pairing: Lily and James
Disclaimer – Despite the fact that I've heard Denial is quite nice this time of year, I am aware I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters or scenes associated with aforementioned subject. Sadly.
Lily and James are friendly with each other, so they must have put aside their differences by this point. And this was written for fun, I'm sure both parties would be home with parents.
It was Christmas Eve. Her friends were upstairs, doing last-minute gift wrapping and doubtlessly still making far too much noise. Lily's presents had been wrapped for an entire week and since she felt no desire to gloat she had retreated to the common room.
With a book, of course.
It happened every year, a relentless cycle. And Lily never quite managed to avoid being dragged off to Hogsmead to help her friends choose the perfect gift for their sister/brother/mother/father/boyfriend/best friend/mutual friend/that-boy-who-sits-next-to-them-and-they-fancy-like-mad.
Lily knew she was good at the gift choosing side of any commercially targeted holiday. She'd had practice.
It had begun when she was four and when asked what her father wanted for Christmas had replied with 'socks and chocolate.' Which happened to be a very good guess. So every Christmas and Easter and Valentines she was forced to accompany various friends to various shops to purchase various gifts for various people.
It wasn't that Lily disliked her friends; she would die for any of them without question. It was just that every time it was the same. No matter if it was socks or perfume or tacky jewellery.
It was fun though, to get out of the castle and wander around with her friends after they had finished their mad buying spree – throwing snowballs and drinking bottles of butterbeer.
On the other hand, the endlessly questions concerned Lily's own gifts could be quite happily done away with. Honestly, it wasn't that long until everything was unwrapped and praised. They'd find out soon enough.
Lily carefully slipped her finger between the next two pages and flipped one over. The book was boring. The plot was barely there, the characters two-dimensional and the author's writing style lent the book an exceedingly dry tone.
The only thing between Lily and throwing the damn thing in the fire was the simple fact that it had been a birthday present.
Stupid ethics.
"Why are you reading that rubbish?" A voice sounded behind her left ear.
Lily shoved her finger in between the pages she had been reading as a rudimentary bookmark. It was only because of her pride – and because she would know that voice anywhere – that she didn't turn around.
"It has no plot, the characters are ridiculously two-dimensional and it practically screams to be used as fuel for some massive bonfire constructed by literature lovers to destroy any of those-"
"All of this wonderfully vivid imagining of the demise of this book really begs the question as to why you know that?" Lily swivelled in her chair to face James Potter. With a classically handsome face, topped by what can only be described as a mop of brown hair he was often the subject for many fantasies entertained by various students.
Him or Black.
At the moment one eyebrow was delicately raised and a smirk was swiftly spreading its way across his face. Lily thought it looked far too comfortable.
"I read it."
It was a close-fought battle, which resulted in the raise of one of Lily's eyebrows in return. "Why?" She quested. It was, after all, just some muggle book given to her by Petunia.
"My mother thought I needed educating. Sadly, she sent me the wrong book. I was meant to get some incredibly famous muggle romance. Instead I get this. Which I'm assuming was the weekly novel from my cousin. She sends my mother a muggle book every week, but most of them are absolutely horrid."
The other eyebrow went up.
"I take it you've read them too?" Lily asked. She was curious, a character trait which she had yet to kick.
"Well, yes." He at least had the dignity to look sheepish.
Lily was slightly bewildered by this new piece of information. She had lived with the boy for six years yet still had no clue about his reading habits. And Lily usually made it her business to find out everything about everyone.
Except, as it would seem, James Potter.
"You've wrapped your presents then, I take it?" He asked her.
Lily cocked her head. "Well, yes, but what would give you that idea?"
His eyes tightened at the corners while he attempted not to smile. "Might have to do with the fact that you're here, yet I can hear your friends up there shouting about a lack of wrapping paper. They are aware they can just transfigure some, aren't they?"
Lily smiled. He was right about the raised voices. At the moment it was Alice's 'There's not enough! Argh! Save me, O' Almighty God of Celebratory Wrapping Paper!' that was resonating down the stairs.
A quick movement brought her back to the boy in front of her. He was looking at her funny.
"What?" She quested, her smile fading.
He blushed, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He glanced up at her, then looked down again. "Youhaveaprettysmile," was mumbled to the floor.
Lily didn't quite not-hear it. She would have been shocked if it had not been one of many incidents were the infamous James Potter had been reduced to blushing at mumbling at her over the course of the last few months.
As it was, she stared owlishly at him and grinned, "why, thank you, Mr Potter, " whilst trying desperately to control the blush spreading across her cheeks.
He grinned back, making one of his famous rebounds. "Isn't James more appropriate, after all, we are friends, right?"
Lily ducked her head. "I suppose, James. Happy?"
"Always."
She raised her eyebrows. "Really."
He smirked at her. "Really, truly." He glanced away from her and frowned.
Lily followed his gaze. Hanging above them was mistletoe.
She looked back to James. His face was confused, then suddenly anxious. He looked at Lily.
"You don't have to kiss me Lily. It's okay. I don't mind." He actually didn't appear to mind, from Lily's perspective.
She wondered why that made her so upset.
Lily gave him a brief smile then got up out of her chair. "Oh. Night, then, James."
"Good night, Lily."
Lily made to walk across the common room to the Girls' Dormitory Staircase. And found she couldn't. She swivelled back to James, wondering if this was some kind of trick, but saw he was suffering a similar fate to her.
"You know, that's charmed mistletoe, that is." Came a voice from behind Lily. "You'll have to kiss each other – on the mouth and everything."
Lily briefly closed her eyes, willing herself to be calm.
"You know, Sirius, it is not particularly polite to charm mistletoe in such a fashion." She told him, refusing to turn and give me any sense of satisfaction.
"Sirius, remove the charm." James' voice called across the room. It was strained; he obviously didn't want to be in this situation.
Which hurt Lily more than it should.
It also made no sense that she felt extremely relieved when Sirius said, "can't. The charm's permanent until fulfilled."
Lily looked at James, who was fuming. "It's okay." She told him. "It's just a kiss."
James looked at her and nodded. With an audible sigh he crossed the few steps between them. He looked down at Lily. "You sure?" He asked her.
"Yes."
He swooped down on her, obviously only planning on a quick peck. But the hands knotting their way into his hair stopped him.
He was almost as surprised as Lily.
But they weren't thinking straight, wrapped up in each other for the first time. Both thinking how wonderful it was, finally taking that last step, which both of them had been thinking about, though James had been ahead of Lily on that front for quite a while.
Lily's last coherent thought was devoted to thanking Sirius afterwards.
Neither of them noticed the slowly dispersing crowd, all of whom had wide grins. It was about time, they thought. Honestly.
When Lily opened her gift from James the next day and saw a portrait of Hogwarts castle, she smiled.
The signature was J. Potter.