Author's Note: Saucy scene ahead-no sex and nothing terribly graphic, but if it bothers you, skip to the break! Just a quick reminder that life goes on even when our minds are in dark places. :) Don't worry, the story won't become a total smut-fest. This chapter is some happy and some fluff, because next chapter is some action and some dark. I'm trying to lighten the story and keep it from being terribly dark/depressing, because that's not how life is. Even in the darkest times there are happy moments.

Once again, thanks so much for all the reviews. I've got a job interview tomorrow (at a place I used to work, so I know 100% I've got the job) so after this week updates may be further apart. I'll try and pound out as much as I can between now and then without killing the story.


As soon as they entered her room, she shut and lucked the door. "Muffliato," she murmured. "Now no one can hear us."

Suddenly, and for the first time in Lily's memory, James seemed awkward and unsure of himself. "Um, good. Ah, why don't we unpack your things?"

She smirked, inwardly hoping she was taking this in the right direction. "Oh, that can wait," she purred, stepping toward him. "After all..." she traced a finger gently over his shoulder.

"After all?" he prompted her after a moment.

"After all..." she stepped closer, so there was barely a finger's width between them, stood on tiptoes so their lips were very, very close. "It's awfully warm in here. I'm going to change into pajamas."

She had the satisfaction of his looking absolutely baffled before she turned toward her trunk. "You'll stay a moment," she ordered over her shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll keep my back turned so you don't see anything... indecent."

She slowly removed her cloak, her jumper, her shoes. One by one she undid the buttons on her blouse, slid it gently over her shoulders. She knew he was watching her from behind, and because he was, she bent over more than she had to in order to shimmy out of her skirt. She unhooked her bra and tossed it carelessly behind her. That left her in socks and green cotton panties, a close match to her eyes. She pulled the Scrunchie out of her hair and shook it out so it spilled over her back.

Again she bent more than was strictly necessary to pull the thin nightgown from her trunk. She slipped it on, then schooled her face into an innocent look before turning to face him. "Why don't you take your cloak and jumper off?" she suggested. "It's much warmer out here than it was out there. You look a little flushed."

"I'll say," he muttered, but took off the offending clothing.

Again, she sauntered up to him, this time pressing her body flush against his-and was satisfied to find him stiff. "Kiss me," she ordered softly, her arms wrapping around his neck.

His hands wrapped around the small of her back as he did just that. They had kissed before, of course, but it was always... something like chaste. Lily opened her mouth, gently, experimentally.

It was all the invitation James needed. He kissed her with passion that went straight to Lily's core. Without realizing it, she pressed her hips to his as their tongues danced and their need grew.

His hands coursed up and down her back; hers tugged gently at his hair. He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding against him with the rhythm of their tongues.

"Have you ever-" he panted between kisses as he laid her on the bed, caging her with his arms.

"No," she answered. "You?"

"No." She bit his lip, tugged, making him groan softly. He slid a hand under her nightgown and cupped her breast; fireworks went off in her brain with the need for more, more, now.

She pushed him gently, a signal that had him backing off. She sat up in the bed, tugged her nightgown off. The surging passion wouldn't let her be self-conscious as she started flicking open the buttons of his shirt

"Wait, wait," said James suddenly. "Wait."

"What's wrong?" she asked, alarmed. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No no no," he assured her. "The opposite." He kissed her, gently. "But if we go any further I'm not going to be able or willing to stop."

She nodded, understanding, and reached for her nightie once more. "Not tonight," she agreed. "We'll take it slow." In truth, she wasn't sure she wanted to stop there, but then she also didn't want to regret herself in the morning.

"You don't necessarily have to put that back on," said James. "I'm rather enjoying the view."

Only then did she remember her self-consciousness; she blushed as she looked down at herself. Unfortunately, losing weight had meant her breasts had shrunk as well, and her stomach was still far bigger than she was comfortable with. She knew she wasn't fat, objectively, but wished she was more toned.

"You should probably get to bed," she said with no small regret. "To be continued?"

He nodded, smiled. "Good night, Lily," he said, and kissed her very chastely.

"Good night, James."

She'd never done anything like that before, she mused. Never acted with confidence, certainly never put the moves on a boy. She was fairly certain she liked it.


The next few days went by in a blur: a trip to London for Christmas shopping, where they met up with Alice and Peter for lunch; afternoons spent reading outside while the boys played Quidditch; evenings spent pretending to eat or purging after dinner; nights spent snogging James in her bedroom while they both yearned for more, but were too nervous to take it.

On Christmas Eve, Mrs. Potter had her helping to bake cookies. She'd never really baked before, and found that she enjoyed it quite a bit. Food was much less intimidating to prepare than to eat. The task, and its roots in tradition, helped ease the ache of her first Christmas without her parents.

And she enjoyed the company of Mrs. Potter, who never bored her.

When the last batch of cookies (for now) was in the oven, the older woman took a seat at the island and began using her wand to clean up; Lily followed suit, and very quickly the kitchen looked as though it hadn't been touched. Mrs. Potter conjured them each a cup of tea; Lily kept hers black and sipped slowly.

"While we wait for these to be done so we can decorate them, why don't you tell me a little about you and James," the older woman said casually.

"Oh um." Lily racked her brain, trying to decide what to tell and what not to. "We started dating right before Halloween. He asked me out on a not-a-date, and I kissed him. That's sort of the long and short of it."

Mrs. Potter chuckled. "That's sweet. The secret, Lily, is that men need a little extra help now and again. I love my husband and my son, and I'll be damned if I haven't come to love Sirius too, but the fact is that sometimes you need to give them a push. I'm glad you got the ball rolling on that because the boy's been mooning over you for years."

"Part of that's my fault," she admitted. "I was a little, ah, harsh to him the first couple times he asked me out. Couple hundred," she corrected with a half-laugh.

"I'm glad he has you," said the older woman. "The light left his eyes for awhile after my parents-in-law died, and you've helped to bring it back."

"The war has taken its toll," murmured Lily, thinking of her family. "On all of us. I imagine it will only get worse until someone is able to stop him."

Mrs. Potter nodded. "That's true. These are dark times for us all... and the only thing, the best thing to do is remember the good things we still have. Fall in love and bake cookies and dance, while we still have the time."

"You're right," the girl realized. "It doesn't do to dwell on pain and forget to live, does it?"

"When we succumb to misery and struggle, the Dark side wins." The oven timer went off, making a strange sound like that of an angry Cornish pixie. "That'll be the cookies. By the way, are you and James being safe?"

Lily nearly choked on her tea as her face colored to match her hair. "Excuse me?" she spluttered.

"You know the contraceptive spell, don't you? It's-"

"I know the spell," interrupted Lily. "But it's not... I mean we're not..." Mortified, she suddenly wished she was out with the boys... even if it meant cruising on that treacherous flying motorbike of Sirius's that they had insisted on taking out tonight.

"Lily, I'm a mother, and mothers know everything. You'll find out yourself eventually. Since placing you at opposite sides of the house did nothing, if you'd like to move into his room, you're welcome." She said it conversationally, as if they were discussing the weather, as she transferred the cookies to a cooling rack.

"I... I don't even know what to say," she said, defeated. "Um. But just so you know, we haven't. And I do know the spell for if and when."

"Good," she said, nodding. "Now, you know that Harold and I had James late in life. While I would certainly appreciate your waiting a few years, I'd like to live long enough to meet my grandchildren."

If Lily had been shocked before, it was nothing as compared with now. She nearly choked on her tea. "Mrs. Potter, we've only been together a few months! Not nearly enough time to think about all that."

The smile Mrs. Potter sent Lily was almost pitying. "You don't even realize it, do you? It's all over your face that you're in love with him."

"I... what?"

"Things move faster in the wizarding world, at any rate. For most. Why, Harold and I were married when we were seventh years, during the Christmas holidays. I wouldn't be terribly surprised if-"

"Mum!" James and Sirius slammed through the front door and their trainers squeaked on the hardwood as they ran to the kitchen. "We were cornered by Death Eaters!"

"After Muggle... what's it called. Please-men?"

"Policemen," corrected Lily. "What happened?"

Sirius began, and they traded off telling the story. "We were going a little too fast on the bike-"

"-but it was on the ground-"

"and the Muggle policemen stopped us in an alley-"

"-and we were having a bit of fun with them-"

"-when Death Eaters flew in-"

"-but we used the policemen's car to stop them and flew off-"

"-so if the Ministry pays us a visit-"

"-we're not home," they finished together.

Lily's eyes were wide as saucers. "You what? James Potter, I told you you were going to get yourself killed on that motorbike. Would arrested be much better? And you, Sirius, do you want to prove your family right when they say you're a good-for-nothing?"

"No," they said in unison, chastised.

Mrs. Potter only sighed. "I trust the Death Eaters didn't follow you here?" When they shook their heads she said, "All right then. Get washed up and help us decorate these cookies. I swear the two of you will be the death of me."


That night, Lily passed on the message that she was allowed to move to his room. "Only if you want to," she insisted.

"That would make it even harder to resist... you," he said, nuzzling her neck. "But why not?"

They levitated her things to his room, and she realized she had never been inside. If she had thought her suite was big... his was monstrous. The four-poster bed was bigger than a king size, decked in Gryffindor red and gold. The bathroom sported a large claw-foot tub that, she imagined, she could soak up to her neck in. It wasn't quite as big as the prefects' tubs, but she couldn't wait until she had the chance to have a long, hot soak in it.

She was, in some ways, still a child at heart. The prospect of Christmas still made her giddy, and she was certain she wasn't going to be able to sleep. However, only a few minutes in James's comforting arms and she was out.

Entirely too early, there was a loud rapping on the door. "Guuuuys!" came Sirius's muffled voice. "Come on, it's Christmas, get up!"

She glanced at the clock beside the bed; it was ten till six. She groaned, not ready just yet to face the day, but turned to see that James was up and looking eager. "Come on!" he urged. "There's Christmas breakfast, and then presents!"

"Urgh," she muttered. "I'm gonna keep sleeping through breakfast. Wake me up after breakfast."

"Nope!" He hooked a hand onto her elbow, tugged as he stood up. "Christmas breakfast means pajamas. Put something on that's a little more... decent though."

She glanced down at the nightie that skimmed just barely over her breasts, and stopped high on her thighs. When James held out one of his t-shirts, she took it gratefully, and slid on pajama pants underneath. Why did this family have so many meals together? she wondered, half-desperately.

But Christmas breakfast wasn't nearly as bad as she expected it to be. The food was laid out Hogwarts-style, with many different options set out on the table, so she could eat what she chose. She ended up loading her plate with fruit, adding cheese cubes and yogurt to balance it out. The homemade pastries and fritters smelled divine, but she didn't want to be panicky on Christmas of all days.

Now that she was fully awake, she was more than a little excited. She couldn't wait to see how James felt about his gift, and the rest of them.

She and Sirius were at equal measure, practically bouncing to the great room. The tree was huge-not as big as the ones at Hogwarts but certainly taller than her own house-and had been decorated overnight, and lavishly so. But it touched her to see that there were ornaments hanging in prominent spots that had obviously been made by a child. They weren't so different from the ones she herself had made, though these featured clay sculptures of faeries and drawings of the Gryffindor lion rather than the Santa Clauses and reindeer she had crafted as a child.

"Lily," offered Mr. Potter, "why don't you open the first present, since you're our guest? We'll take turns."

"Thank you," she murmured, a little self-conscious to have all eyes on her. Her first gift was one from the Potters, a pretty bag that was, strangely, rustling... she was a little bit nervous as she removed the paper. "Oh!" she murmured softly. The kitten was so small she could hold it in her hand. It was black with a small white spot on its chest, and greeted Lily by nibbling on her finger.

"Do you like her?" asked Mrs. Potter. "James said cats were your favorite, and black cats with white spots are known to be lucky in the wizarding world."

"She's perfect," she gushed. "Oh, she's so precious. Does she have a name?"

"That's up to you," piped up James.

"Thank you so much." Lily stood to hug Mr. and Mrs. Potter in turn. "I'll have to get to know her a little before I name her, I think. Oh, I love her."

The kitten snoozed on her lap as she stroked it gently and they took turns opening gifts. She had followed James's advice on gifts for his parents (books on history for his father and a red sweater for his mother) and made Sirius a gift basket of joke supplies ("Use any of this on me and I'll hex you into next week," she warned), and all of the gifts were well-received. When it came time for James to open her gift, she held her breath.

He tore into the paper like a child, lifted the lid off the small box quickly. And said nothing.

"If you don't like it I-"

"Shh," he said quietly. "Don't ruin the moment." He lifted the ancient Muggle pocketwatch by its well loved chain.

"'Hugo, counting the minutes. Rose.'" He read the engraving out loud, looked at her questioningly.

"It belonged to my grandfather," she explained. "He was in the war-a Muggle war, that is-and his sweetheart, my grandmother, gave it to him as a parting gift to remember her by. So he knew she was counting down for his return. Family legend tells it that the gift kept him motivated to keep moving and survive, even when he wanted to give up, because he knew she was waiting for him."

"How sweet," whispered Mrs. Potter.

"I love it," said James, running a thumb over the opened face. "I'll wear it every day. Now it's your turn to open mine." He handed her a small box; she took more care, undoing the wrapping paper gently so as not to tear it.

She lifted the lid off the box and gasped. A large oval garnet surrounded by a halo of small diamonds was set in gold, suspended from a thick gold chain. "James, this is too much," she said, staggered. "It's beautiful but-"

"But nothing," he interrupted her protest. "I didn't pay anything for it if it helps you feel better. This is an heirloom, too. It was said to have been made for Godric Gryffindor to give to his daughter, and a Gryffindor's always owned it. Dunno if that's true or not, but it's been with a Potter for generations."

"I can't-" Her voice choked. "I can't take something as valuable as this. It's a family legacy, James."

"Of which we have many," pointed out Mr. Potter. "Keep it. James discussed it with us beforehand and we've all agreed it's perfectly fitting."

"Here, James, put it on her," insisted Mrs. Potter. "No more of that. He wouldn't give you anything he didn't feel you deserved."

She felt almost silly with this magnificent piece of jewelry on her neck, clad in her pajamas. She stood to look in the mirror that hung over the great fireplace.

It truly was remarkable. Now that it was on her neck she didn't think she'd ever part with it. The red of the stone complemented the red in her hair, her cheeks. It was too formal for her everyday wear, but she didn't care. She'd wear it daily nonetheless.

"Now that's settled," joked Sirius, "say 'Thank you, James, I love it.'"

She smiled. "Thank you, James," she parroted. "I love it." She strode back over to him, kissed him deeply. "I'll treasure it always."


The day was so full she nearly forgot to miss home. Potter tradition, from games to carols, took up nearly every minute.

She was pleasantly exhausted by the time they curled up to bed. "Remus comes tomorrow," she reminded James. "And the day after that, Petunia's wedding. Then it'll nearly be time for the new year and back to school."

"I wish we could stay here," he murmured, nuzzling against her. "Not that I don't love Hogwarts, but we don't have nearly enough time together."

"We've certainly become spoiled the last few days," she agreed. "It's been so wonderful I've almost forgotten to worry about what we have coming ahead. But let's not worry too much about that now."

She cherished those minutes between silence and sleep, hoping she had many more nights like this to come.