Fairy Lights and Broken Silence

Tuesday December 14

- Lily -

Lily and Greta headed down to dinner.

"Shame we didn't get to work on Charms for longer," Greta said, sounding anything but disappointed. Lily was watching the red and gold baubles floating in a serene dance near the ceiling of the corridor, and didn't reply.

There was something about Christmas that Lily found calming, even in her moments of deepest doubt. There was a promise hidden among the trappings and the food, a promise of family and safety. It had been written on her heart as a young girl, back when Christmas had indeed been a time of cheer and feasting, carols and family. Lily shut out her worries about what the coming holiday would bring, and focused on the decorations adorning every corridor between here and the great hall.

Dinner was, once again, magical. Lily wondered if the house elves made the final week of term so special because so many of the students would miss the feast on Christmas day itself. Tonight it was the roast turkeys Lily had smelled baking earlier, surrounded by roast pumpkin and potatoes, honeyed carrots, minted peas, rich gravy and thick cranberry sauce.

Lily, further comforted by the sights and smells, sunk gratefully into her seat and served herself a large portion. Greta and Lily were joined by Alice Fortescue and Mary MacDonald, their fellow Gryffindor sixth years. Alice was a calming presence, soft and willowy, quiet and intelligent. Tonight her sheet of silvery blonde hair reflected the candlelight, and her blue eyes twinkled. Mary was short and plain, also quiet, with an ordinary brown bob and gentle brown eyes. Both of their cheeks were flushed from the air outside – clearly they'd been enjoying the bonfire.

"I heard Pandora Page is in the hospital wing," Mary said, scooping peas onto her plate.

"Yeah, thanks to Potter and Black," Lily said, her voice hard once more.

"It wasn't exactly their fault," Greta amended, causing Lily to frown at her. "What, its not like they knocked her over."

"If they hadn't frozen the corridor-"

"They did what?"

"They made an ice rink out of the third floor," Greta said, turning to her friends with enthusiasm. "You should have seen it!"

"It was dangerous!" Lily interrupted hotly.

"Only because they didn't warn people about it! I wonder if they'd do it again," Greta mused.

Lily's reply was cut off by a barn owl swooping low and dropping a letter into her half-eaten dinner. Lily was surprised – letters were almost always delivered at breakfast – but her surprise turned to a roil of emotion when she saw the muggle stamp on the envelope. A letter sent through the muggle post, forwarded to Hogwarts. Lily's parents had their own owl. This could only be from one person.

Lily sat frozen for a moment, unsure whether she wanted to open the letter at all, now that it was here. Then she realised three sets of eyes were on her and her mysterious letter, and what she wanted most was to be alone. Lily stood up abruptly, shaking the peas off the envelope.

"I'll be back," she told her friends, ignoring their curious or concerned expressions.

"Lily, if you need anything," Alice began, but Lily merely gave her a weak smile that failed to be reassuring and ducked out of the great hall.

Lily began the long trek to Gryffindor tower, knowing she was merely putting off opening the letter for a few more minutes. But, she told herself, she didn't know what was inside. She might be glad of the absolute privacy once she found out. Lily hated the idea of anyone witnessing her in a moment of fragility. Petunia was one of the few people in the world who could still make Lily lose her grip on her emotions.

Both a moment and an eternity later, Lily was sitting cross-legged on her bed, curtains drawn, the envelope staring back at her. What was the worst it could say? That Petunia couldn't come?

Lily slit it open, hands trembling slightly. She unfolded the letter – typewritten rather than penned. It shouldn't matter, but there was something familiar about her sister's perfect flowing lettering that made Lily feel some small connection to her – a sight from her childhood. Something else lost.

Lily,

Vernon is unable to get time off work. As for coming alone, father's sickness upsets me so much I just can't face a family Christmas without Vernon's support. I know you'll understand.

I will also be unable to pick you up from the train station.

Have a good Christmas,

Petunia

Lily read the letter through three times without pausing to allow her own thoughts to surface. Her blood felt hot in her veins, her stomach weighed down.

Phrases began to stand out to her, able to be comprehended only one at a time.

Vernon. Lily had felt an unfounded dislike of Petunia's boyfriend, Vernon Dursley since the first day they'd met, which had only driven Petunia further away. The fact that his numerous flaws had been revealed in the following months was imperceptible to Petunia.

Coming alone. Alone? Since when was Petunia alone when she was with her family?

Father's sickness. As though terminal cancer was a bad bout of flu.

Upsets me so much. Yes, because things always had to be about Petunia.

Without Vernon's support. Support. Lily's gut twisted angrily. It had been a long time since Lily had felt supported by anyone except her weakening father, and he was the one who really needed their support. Not that Petunia was of any use in that regard.

I know you'll understand. Lily bristled. It was Petunia's way of saying she wouldn't change her mind. 'Don't bother asking again,' she meant.

And, Lily thought, now shaking with suppressed anger, how was she supposed to get home from King's Cross? Her father normally drove her, but he was too ill at the moment to be permitted his licence. Lily's mother, a nervous driver at the best of times, was frankly dangerous in the crowded city streets. Lily huffed out an angry, but not yet defeated, sigh.

First things first. Lily grabbed her wand and burned the letter. When this didn't disperse her anger, she burned the envelope too. Now breathing in smoke, and still far from calm, Lily grabbed some parchment to send Petunia back a response worthy of such a letter. Her quill hovered over the paper, like a poised sword. And it hovered. Some ink dripped onto the page. Lily scowled at the parchment. Then she threw down the quill in disgust.

She had no words. She was too angry for words. And was there anything she could say that she hadn't already told Petunia? Any name that she hadn't already called her? Anything that wouldn't push her further away?

Lily jumped off the bed and paced, turning sharply on her heel each time she reached the wall. What scared her more than the depths of her anger – Lily had a temper and was accustomed to anger – was the weight sitting heavy in her stomach. A clenched aching thing. Lily refused to acknowledge it, hating the counsellor her mother had bullied her into seeing last holidays, because now she had a name for it. Grief. Lily Evans didn't grieve. She was strong. She was the pillar in her family. Like her father had been. It was as though his mantle would pass – was passing – to her. Lily swallowed, her throat feeling dangerously restricted, furious with herself. Lily Evans didn't cry.

And then her situation got immensely worse. Lily heard three sets of footsteps, three concerned voices, ascending the dormitory steps. Lily took a deep breath, which hitched traitorously in her throat. This wouldn't do. Lily strode for the door before her friends could open it. Before they could say anything, Lily announced,

"I'm heading to the prefects' bathroom." One place they couldn't follow. "Don't wait up."

And then she was successfully past them and down the stairs. Lily crossed the common room, determinedly ignoring the people reclining and laughing on couches, enjoying the last of the term, and ducked out of the portrait hole. Lily didn't notice a certain black-haired someone watching her, or see him stand up as she left the common room.

The corridors were silent and empty, a relief. It was after almost curfew, but as a prefect Lily could invent a believable reason for being out of bed. Lily stalked down the cold corridors, hands deep in her pockets, fuming silently.

Stupid Petunia. It had been a long time since Lily had allowed her sister's antics to upset her like this. Lily struggled not to name her emotions – they were easier to deal with as a hot vague roil under her skin – but she knew what she was feeling: abandoned and betrayed. It was one thing for Petunia to sulk and hover on the edges of a family Christmas, but for her to bail completely…

Lily clenched her fists. Christmas was supposed to be a time of family, of peace, of joy. Not guilt and anger and exhaustion. And quite suddenly, Lily knew where she wanted to be tonight. She'd been angling vaguely in the direction of the prefects' bathroom, but now she changed course, heading for the ground floor.

Outside the windows the sky was black, the air crisp but no trace yet of snow. Lily pulled her cloak closer around her, wishing she'd swapped it for her big coat. Her pale face was pink with cold, her nose almost as red as her hair. The stone walls radiated the cold back at her, but Lily hurried on, rubbing her hands together for warmth. It would be worth it. She needed this.

Several staircases later, Lily finally descended into the entrance hall. The twelve Christmas trees stood sentinel, some decorated with candles, some with bubbles of light. But Lily headed for the one nearest the front doors, the one bedecked with live fairies, glowing bright like intricate ornaments.

She paused, staring at the tree. This. Just this. Christmas, like it had been that first year at Hogwarts. The first time she'd seen the twelve trees, the first time she'd seen living fairies, like the pictures in her old story books brought to life. Perfect little faces, tiny hands, flickering insect wings. Their postures were proud and haughty, aware of their own beauty, but beautiful nonetheless.

That first Christmas Lily had expected to go home to a house unchanged. To a Christmas like all the others filled with family, food and fun. Peace joy and love. Carols and caring and cake.

Knowing she couldn't stand around in open like this – she'd be caught – Lily made her way behind the wide lower branches, finding a place in the corner of the hall where she could sink to the flagstone floor, hidden by the pine needles, watching the fairies without being seen by anyone passing by. The warmth of dozens of glowing fairies was like a gentle blanket. There was nothing stopping her from sitting here all night, from spending just a few more hours in the past before she had to face another week of classes, another Christmas feeling alone.

Lily leaned her head back, eyes fixed on the glowing fairy on the low branch in front of her. She took a few deep calming breaths, felt her heart rate finally slow, her fingers unclench. Lily Evans, prefect and class-topper, hadn't been a little girl for a long time. But that didn't stop her wishing for simpler times on a night like this.

Footsteps sounded on the marble staircase. Lily held her breath. It was probably just a teacher getting a hot chocolate or something. There was no reason for anyone to come near the front doors, to come anywhere near her hiding spot.

But the footsteps passed the doors to the great hall, hesitating as they approached the last couple of Christmas trees. A few more steps and a face poked around the edge of the tree. The last face Lily wanted to see when she was hiding like a child, clenched fingers aching with suppressed anger, heart heavy with longing for the past.

James Potter looked just as surprised to find her here, of all places.

"Red?" he asked tentatively, a hand jumping to mess his black hair.

"I'm not in the mood for you or your dumb nicknames, Potter," Lily said coldly, with much dignity as she could while sitting cross-legged on the flagstones behind a fir tree.

"I was looking for you to give you your Christmas present," Potter said hesitantly, clearly reading the look on her face, for once. "You know, since you don't like public displays of affection."

"I don't like any displays of affection from you," Lily said, trying to put the usual venom into her voice, and failing. Her voice sounded small, fragile. Lily grit her teeth and clenched her fists more tightly. "Leave me alone, Potter."

"I- I saw you leave the common room…" James' voice was hesitant, his face apologetic.

"You followed me?" Lily demanded, bright green eyes flashing dangerously.

"You looked… sad." Potter looked down at his hands. His head was still at an odd angle around the tree where he'd poked it to find her. It would have been comical if she hadn't been so displeased to see him.

"And what part of that made you think I'd want you to join me?" Now her voice carried some ice.

Potter swallowed, and finally looked away from her intense gaze to watch a fairy fluttering her wings. "I just… don't think people should be sad by themselves."

"Did it even occur to you that I left to be by myself?"

"Nobody wants to be alone when they're sad." Potter sounded so sure of himself – as usual. Though his voice was serious – one of the very few times Lily had heard anything but a smart-arse comeback or suave pick up line.

"Some people do," Lily told him sharply, but she averted her gaze so he couldn't see her eyes.

"No. People might not want to talk about their sadnesses, but no one wants to sit alone in the cold with a heavy burden."

Lily looked up at him, frowning, a crease between her eyes. Was this cliché-spouting boy the same James Potter who had hexed Param Patil earlier today because he had taken the last cream pie? Not that she liked this interfering Potter any better than the regular one.

"So," Potter said, turning his solemn brown eyes back to hers, "Budge up."

"What?" Lily snapped, her frown deepening again.

"Move over. I'm coming in." Potter's sure-of-himself smile reappeared as he turned side on to squeeze past the branches.

"Don't you dare. There's no room in here."

"Sure there is. Just move over a couple inches."

"No."

"Then I'll sit on you," he said cheerfully.

Lily was trapped between Potter, the tree and the wall.

"I'll hex you if you come any closer."

"No you won't. You don't have your wand."

Lily cursed under her breath. It was true.

Potter grinned at her, that trademark cocky smirk, and Lily clenched her fists and scowled.

"Come on, I promise I won't even say anything. I'll just keep you company."

"I don't want company."

"Yes you do. You just don't want my company. Or – you don't think you do. I mean it," he added bending his knees. "I will sit on you if you don't move."

"This is your idea of consoling?" Lily grumbled, scooting over the required three inches, and just managing to avoid poking herself in the eye with a branch.

Potter lowered himself to the ground, stretched out his legs under the tree branches, and closed his eyes. Lily watched him suspiciously. She waited two whole minutes. Potter neither moved nor spoke, his eyes remaining closed as though he was napping. Lily watched the pulse in the side of his neck for a moment. He looked perfectly content as he sat on the hard stone floor beside her.

"You're really not going to ask?" Lily demanded impatiently.

Potter's eyes opened. He glanced at her, then away.

"I thought you didn't want me to ask."

"I don't."

"Right then."

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes again. Lily sighed in exasperation.

"How is this supposed to be helpful?"

Potter didn't open his eyes this time.

"You're not alone, and I'll wager you're less sad than you were before I got here."

"Only because now I'm angry."

Potter shrugged as though this difference was unimportant.

Lily swiped at a branch in irritation, upsetting a fairy who protested in a shrill cry, shaking his tiny fist at her. Lily shook her fist back, and the fairy, glowering, flew to a higher branch.

"Taking your anger out on people smaller than you…" Potter tutted, a slight lilt of teasing in his voice.

Lily turned a glower of her own on him.

"Says the school bully."

"Hey, I'm not a bully. I only hex people who can defend themselves."

"You hex people when they're not looking, and Slytherin first years too."

"I said 'can defend themselves', not 'are itching for a duel.' And the Slytherin first years we hex know more curses than you do. We just teach them their place early on. Helps keep the peace for everyone."

"Is that why you hexed Severus Snape on day one?" Lily demanded.

Potter turned to face her. Lily hadn't realised how close their faces were, how his eyes had flecks of green in them. This annoyed her more than anything so far, and she turned resolutely back to facing the tree.

"Snivellus Snape knew more dark magic the day he arrived than the seventh years did."

Potter's voice was firm, his jaw tense. There were a few beats of silence. Lily didn't have a counter-argument to that. These days she knew exactly what Severus Snape was like. But she didn't have to like it.

"So… did you want me to ask?" Potter ventured.

"No."

"Okay."

They both stared at the tree some more.

"I don't know why you even care," Lily said a few minutes later.

"Well, there's the small fact that I like you."

"No you don't."

Lily got great satisfaction from the way Potter's jaw dropped. He turned to her but she pushed his face back to face the front on with a firm hand.

"How can you say that? I ask you out all the time."

"That doesn't mean you like me. You want me to say yes because I'm the only girl who's said no. That's not a crush. That's a conquest."

"Evans, I swear, you are not a conquest. I like you."

"Fine. What do you like about me?" Lily's voice was not encouraging. Potter shifted where he sat, tried to look at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Well, you're pretty. And you don't take any crap. And you're smart. And you can do the curse of the bat bogies."

"Wow, such deep reasons. Do you know how many girls fit that description?"

"Name one."

"Andromeda Black."

"Er, name another one."

"Emmeline Vance."

"Er-"

"Greta Catchlove. Prisha Patil. Arabella Goldstein."

"Okay, okay. I get it."

"You don't like me Potter. You like the idea of me."

"You really believe that, don't you?"

"How could you like me? You don't even know me."

"I know you."

"You know that I'm smart and I can do the curse of the bat bogies."

"How am I meant to get to know you if you won't go out with me?"

"I won't go out with you because you're an arrogant berk with an ego the size of Hogsmede village. And because you're arrogant enough to think you know me when we've never even had a conversation."

"This is a conversation."

"This is you trapping me behind a Christmas tree because you decided my life would be better with you in it."

"Your life would be better with me in it."

Lily sighed deeply.

"My life would be better if you stopped asking me out, stopped trying to flatter me like I'm some dull-witted bimbo, and stopped getting me stupid showy presents."

Potter hesitated.

"And would that… help you get through what you're going through right now?"

Lily's eyes narrowed.

"What am I going through right now?" she demanded. Surely Potter didn't know anything?

"All I know is, half the time you're your usual glorious, feisty self," (Lily resisted the temptation to poke out both of Potter's eyes at the word 'feisty') "and the other half you're trying to pretend you are. People who don't know you like I do are fooled, but I've been watching you a long time, Lily Evans, and I know that you're not okay. You just want everyone to think you are."

James Potter said all this in a calm and level voice, maintaining eye contact with the fairy in front of him. Lily was grateful he wasn't watching her. Her cheeks were flushed with either shame or anger, it was hard to tell which as they were both battling in her chest. When she was sure her voice wouldn't tremble Lily ground out,

"Is that an admission of stalking?"

Potter chuckled good-naturedly, still not looking at her. Then he sobered.

"What I want for Christmas, Red, is to make you happier."

"Then stay out of my life!" Lily snapped without thinking – her own autopilot response.

"If I did – if I gave you space – would that make your life easier right now?"

"Why do you care?" Lily asked suspiciously, not daring to place any hope behind his words.

"Because whether you believe it or not, Lily Evans, I like you. So, if it makes your life easier, then I will step out of it. For now."

Lily studied him under lowered brows.

"I don't believe you."

"Doesn't matter. You'll see."

Lily waited. Potter didn't move.

"I don't see you stepping out of my life."

"Not just yet. You're still sad, underneath that façade. I'll give you a bit longer, then we can get hot chocolate and go to bed."

Potter must have felt her glower without looking at her.

"Separately. Geez Evans, you've got a dirty mind."

"I'm not drinking hot chocolate with you," Lily said firmly.

"I'll get you a to-go cup. Now, do you mind? I'm trying to watch the fairies and decompress."

Lily gaped at him for a moment. He glanced sideways at her and grinned a cheeky grin. Then he turned his eyes frontwards and settled down, crossing his arms and closing his eyes again.

Lily swallowed, crossing her own arms for warmth, and grudgingly watching a fairy flutter in front of her nose.

Beside her, Potter reached into his pocket, eyes still closed. He took out a salamander, which curled gratefully into the heat of his palm. Potter reached over and, with the briefest glance, right into her eyes, he laid the little lizard on Lily's knee. Then he went back to his crossed arms, eyes closed position as if nothing had happened.

Lily looked down at the glowing reptile for a moment. It was glaring at the chilly air. Lily sighed and took it into her cupped hands. It curled up for her just like it had for Potter. Lily felt it vibrating with pleasure against her skin.

She hated to admit it, even to herself, but it was nice not to be alone.

"Don't you dare tell anyone about this," Lily muttered darkly.

"Cross my heart," Potter said softly, a small smile playing over his lips.

Lily hated that she believed him. Trusting Potter even an inch was a slippery slope.