Really short chapter, but only because its more of a part one than anything. The next chapter is already in the works, if that's any consolation.

Reviews are always welcome!

Disclaimer: My blonde hair comes from a box.

Chapter 39

The scent of Christmas can quite often be felt in the December air. The smell of stale decorations being extracted from the basement, of pine invading the houses, of fresh baking, freshly fallen snow, and the stale perfume worn by some distant great-aunt entwining itself in your nostrils.

While altogether it is not a very pleasant combination, the scent is reminiscent of Christmas' past, of childhood filled with humour and love, and of a time without worries. The decorations unearthed that seemed to have never changed now show many signs of wear and tear; the tree that used to be indefinite to you now has a distinct peak; the never ending baking now leaves you completely uninterested in anything that has any more than a tablespoon of sugar in it.

The difference is not with the scents, the decorations, nor the baking. The stale perfume that refuses to permit you to smell anything else long after the decorations are packed away hasn't, and will most likely never, change.

No, the only difference, from one Christmas to the next, is you.

It is your perspective, the way your memories distort your past, the way your childish naivety permeates in everything you recall. When these things fail to live up to expectations, there is a definite disenchantment as to the magic of the holidays.

Instead, you are left, alone with your memories and the phantom scents, with a definite feeling of abandonment permeating in the frigid air.

Until you find love.

Until you find someone, and it's like there's an audible click, where you just compliment each other.

Where you want to surround yourself with them, burry yourself in their scent, rather than the horrid perfume, and bake so many different pastries that you could never hope to grow tired of them. Where decorating a tree is enchanting, and seeing the way the snowflakes land in their hair brings out the dimple in your cheek that only appears when you smile hard enough.

Love itself may creep up upon you, may startle you, but it's hinted at by another emotion.

Hope.

Hope for a future, hope for happiness and companionship. For understanding and trust, and complete openness.

Hope that life may turn out to not be so bad after all, but rather an adventure that leads to the next.

If one only has hope…everything becomes imaginable.

When the sounds of apparition rang out on the cobbled streets of Hogsmeade, the Prefects were extremely thankful that James Potter and Lily Evans were that year's Head Boy and Girl, if only because of James' determination and Lily's protectiveness.

While the Prefects had spent hours groaning to the Head Students, they were still submitted to hours upon hours of gruelling practices where they had to protect a squadron of supposed students from assault, in the supposedly unlikely event that the school came under attack.

Supposedly, apparently, was much more frequent than everyone had hoped.

All the Prefects were to break off into pairs and split up, trying to gather as many students into a group as possible and lead them back to the school. The older students would form rings around the younger ones and be prepared for the likely scenario of them having to duel their way to safety. Lily and James would already have called for Misa, the Head House Elf's, help, who'd then send as many elves as possible to bring lone students back to the castle before coming back to assist the groups, until finally all the students were sequestered away within the ancient walls.

However, things rarely go according to plan, and reality is often much messier than imagined.

The chaos rained over the students, mania and panic disrupting the overwhelmed Prefects' attempts to organize all the students despite their own fears. While James himself was trying to gather students, he noticed two fifth year Prefects running about themselves in a panic, able to offer no more assistance than a regular student. He began duelling two Death Eaters, hoping to distract them from the two hidden fourth year students behind him, when he heard them start screaming and gurgling. It was with dreaded clarity that James realized that there were more Death Eaters than what they were prepared for.

You can plan all you want, but it never makes a difference: once you show up, all hell breaks loose – and that is what you must be prepared to deal with: the chaos and the panic.

While that was Fleamont's favourite saying, James had never appreciated it more than at that moment. Determined to do his best in a war that he never had any choice but to fight in, he threw himself into the throng of destructive Death Eaters and begun duelling.

It was only a short while later, as Misa and other Elves had already begun disappearing with students, that he was duelling four enraged Death Eaters; the diminishing students hadn't gone unnoticed, only serving to enrage the Death Eaters further. He had just returned a hex that downed two of his opponents when pain exploded across his entire body and time seemed to slow, an image of Lily forming in his mind. He fell back, eyes closed and focusing on the image of the redhead that was forever burned into the back of his eyelids, as he let reality fade into the depths of his mind.

Earlier that morning when Lily woke up, it was to a mess of black hair covering her face, an arm draped across her back, pinning her to his chest, and soft breath ghosting over her forehead.

And it was the most beautiful morning that she had ever had in a long, long time.

There was no death looming over her door, no Petunia to stomp on her and insult and berate her, there was only the tangled blankets and bare chest underneath her.

All that existed… was sunshine setting fire to her hair and James' face so close to hers, peaceful and eyes closed, James' steady heartbeat underneath her palm and his arms around her.

That was how Lily finally recognized how deep her feelings for James went...

That was how Lily Evans realized that she was in love with James Potter.

'Crucio!' Lily ducked behind an overturned bench as the flash of light passed overhead, and tried to catch her breath. While not entirely surprised about the reactions of her fellow students, Lily was feeling rather frustrated as she spied three fifth years doing nothing more than scream as they ran from shop to shop, continuously fleeing the destruction the Death Eaters rained in their wake. After directing a House Elf to return them to the school, she prepared to continue her duel with the four Death Eaters that had their sights fixed on her. It was only as she heard a female cackle that sounded dreadfully familiar that she realized who, exactly, she was duelling.

'And here I was, hoping I'd never have to see the pitiful face of such a wretched Mudblood again…' The mocking voice of Bellatrix Black rang out, a high pitched drawl that would always grate on Lily's nerves, and that caused her to remember a flash of pain and screaming. She unintentionally began clutching her forearm, whereupon the scarred, faded word Mudblood was still discernable. 'It seems as if Dumbledore really has lost it, to make someone like her Head Girl.' Bellatrix sneered to her cronies, her full lips dipping downwards in a revolted frown, her eyes glinting in malicious fury as she began twirling her wand in her hand.

Lily merely narrowed her eyes as she forced herself to distance herself mentally from the duel, in an attempt to keep a level head. If she had any hope of surviving, she had to keep the fight from getting personal for her. It was only after a nearby potions shop exploded after being set fire to that the began to duel, the explosion acting almost as a signal.

While Lily was definitely more than a competent dueller, it was still four against one, and there aren't any shields that can be cast to protect against Unforgivables. It was because of this that it sent her into a lot of ducking, twirling, and jumping, leaving her very little time in which to return fire. It was only as she dropped to the ground and rolled in order to avoid a Crucio that she was able to shoot off a painful jinx that would incapacitate one of the Death Eaters, with many barbed chains wrapping tightly around him and pinning his arms to his side, unable to cast anything.

Snarling at Bellatrix, Lily began casting solely at her, her attention diverted as she continued to dodge her other opponents. Calling upon all of her training with the training dummies, Lily was able to distract Bellatrix with an illusion of a thestral preparing to maul her long enough for her to send her flying backwards, far enough away that she went through the wall of the Three Broomsticks and stopped moving.

Turning to her remaining adversaries, Lily caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Without another thought, Lily dispatched her opponents with a charm to make them drunkenly hysterical and turned her full attention to him just in time to watch James fall like a marionette whose strings were cut.

She watched him fall, his body seeming to mingle with the snowflakes in its descent.

She watched the way he didn't seem to be able to move, the way he didn't seem to even be breathing, and felt her breath catch.

He plummeted along with the snow swirling around him, and didn't seem to notice that he took her heart with him.

'James!' Lily shrieked, her terror rendering her nearly hysterical as she ran towards the man she loved. She reached him after what felt like an eternity since he hit the ground and didn't move, but could no nothing more than scream in agony.

That was until she saw six approaching Death Eaters, and let only the thought of what they would do to James' prone form if she didn't get herself together cloud her mind.

She had always thought her fate to be that she'd die to protect those she loved, and with the thought that James was no exception, she combined her love, fear, pain, determination, and panic, and turned towards them.