II.

James

Cold December Night

15 December 2031

So, please just fall in love with me this Christmas.
There's nothing else that I will need this Christmas.

James's teeth were chattering. It was eleven o'clock in the evening and it was bloody freezing. No flakes of snow drifted down from the dark sky, but a needle-sharp wind was whistling through the air, relentlessly biting into every inch of James's skin. Cursing himself for not thinking to change out of his oldest and thinnest flannel pajamas, James glanced around the Leaky Cauldron's brick-walled back courtyard, looking for a stone.

With a jolt, he spotted a pile of gray pebbles lying under a nearby dustbin. Hurrying forward, he scooped up the pebbles with his numb fingers. Then, he stepped back, facing the pub's tall building.

One—two—three—four—five—James carefully counted the floors. Then, focusing intently on the third window of the fifth floor, James seized a pebble and flung it directly at the glass. With his impeccable aim as a Chaser, James did not need to hear the soft clang that followed to know that he had hit his mark. Shivering, he quickly extracted a second pebble and hurled it up at the window. Clang—it hit its mark, as well. Gritting his chattering teeth, James withdrew a third pebble. Clang. Then, a fourth pebble. Clang. Five. Clang. Six. Clang. Seven. Clang.

Then, just as James was about to fling up an eighth pebble, a dim light flickered to life inside the room. James inhaled sharply, standing bolt upright. A moment later, the window was wrenched open, and the beautifully furious face of Alice Longbottom emerged, her long gingery-blond hair disheveled and her bright gray eyes flashing.

"What the bloody hell is your problem?" she bellowed.

"Alice!" James cried, dropping the rest of the pebbles he was holding and hurrying to stand directly beneath her open window. "Alice, I'm sorry!"

"Oh, are you?" Alice demanded icily, and James flinched at her tone. "Well, that's convenient, isn't it? Deciding to make up with your girlfriend right before the holidays—that's a happy coincidence!"

James gulped. "No—Alice, I—"

"What are you doing down there anyway?" Alice interrupted acidly, narrowing her eyes. "Why didn't you just come upstairs?"

"Your dad wouldn't let me!" James lamented.

Alice snorted. "Yeah, because I told him not to. I thought you might still try something, though—like always. Because that's what you do, isn't it? You never take anything seriously, James, not even your girlfriend!"

James gaped at her. "Alice, it's not like that!" he croaked.

"Then, what exactly is it like?" Alice shrieked, and James stumbled backwards, alarmed. "I'm tired of this, James! I'm tired of wondering whether or not you'll show up to a date! I'm tired of trying to riddle out how much you like me! I'm twenty-four years old, and I think I've made it really bloody clear how I feel about you—so if you can't be an adult about our relationship, then I don't see the point of having one!"

James's stomach plummeted to his feet. "Alice—"

"Go home, James," Alice's voice trembled slightly. James squinted, trying to see her face clearly through the darkness. "Goodnight."

She began to duck out of the window—and at that very moment, James was suddenly seized by a paralyzing, stupefying realization.

"Alice!" he hollered, his voice breaking. "Alice, I love you!"

Alice froze with her head halfway inside. There was a very long, tense silence; James crossed his shaking fingers tightly in the pocket of his pajama pants.

Then, at last, slowly, Alice stuck her head out of the window again. Her gray eyes were very round. "Say that again," she whispered, though her voice still carried over the wind.

James swallowed heavily, a vast sense of mingled relief and euphoria crashing over him. "I love you," he repeated loudly, cupping his hands around his mouth. "And I'm sorry we still have fights like this. And I'm sorry for not making up with you until the holidays—but I love you! I love you!"

Alice's smile was resplendent, luminescent, filling James with an overwhelming, overwhelming joy that seemed to radiate from his chest, warming him from the inside out. "Alice!" he shouted. "Come down here!"

"James, it's freezing!" Alice cried, laughing. "You come up!"

"No, Alice, you've got to come down here!"

"I—why?" Alice asked, gaping at him.

"Why?" James repeated incredulously, letting out a hysterical, little laugh. "Because I love you! Now, get down here!"

"James, I'm not dressed—and neither are you," Alice protested exasperatedly, though she was positively beaming. "You come up!"

"I'm not coming up there, Alice! You've got to come down!"

Alice gave a strangled laugh, covering her mouth with her hands and shaking her head in wonder. Then, finally, she ducked out of the window and slammed it shut. A moment later, the light went out in her bedroom.

James let out a loud, triumphant whoop, punching the air. But then, the very next instant, it occurred to him that he couldn't possibly wait for Alice to climb down five flights of stairs. Making up his mind in a split-second, he turned and sprinted down the length of the courtyard, through the backdoor, down the dark corridor, and back into the Leaky Cauldron's main room. Heart pounding against his ribs, he jogged past several crowded booths, past the bar, where Neville was grading Herbology papers—he glanced up briefly as James rocketed by him and rolled his eyes in an amused, long-suffering way.

Heart leaping into his throat, James raced up the pub's center staircase, up to the first floor landing, and then, up to the second—and then, up to the third—

And then, suddenly, she was there, her gingery-blond hair in a disarray, her pale pink nightgown rumpled, her dressing gown hanging loosely from her shoulders. James stopped short in his tracks, taking her in—every inch of the beautiful woman in front of him—the woman he loved—

Alice stepped forward, beaming, her eyes alight with a kind of happiness that James had never seen before. "I was going to—"

"I know," James breathed.

And then, the next second, she was in his arms and his hands were tangled in her hair, and laughing uncontrollably, they kissed, clinging to each other for all they were worth—and suddenly, it wasn't so very cold anymore.

I want something that lasts forever,
So kiss me on this cold December night.

—Michael Bublé

Author's Note:

These two are both such drama queens. Honestly. XD Teehee, I love James. He's exasperatingly amusing.

Tiny disclaimer: the whole "Come down!"/"No, you come up!" bit is loosely borrowed from Season 1, Episode 22 of How I Met Your Mother.

Thanks, everyone, for the lovely reviews! So glad you're enjoying this! Next up will be Dominique with 'Meet Me Under the Mistletoe.' :)

Ari