"You can't catch me!" Lily laughed as she ran, her fingers skimming against the stone wall of the third floor corridor.

Her blood was humming with adrenaline, her bare feet touching clouds. Her wand was missing, but she didn't care. Everything felt weightless as she raced up the stairs.

Her own laughter echoed around her as she used her momentum to keep herself moving, even as her feet no longer touched the steps below her. It was as if she was flying.

"You can't run forever!" his voice called, not too far behind her, his voice just as light as she felt. Lily smiled coyly, pushing herself harder to fight her way back to the common room.

She blinked. The portrait entrance was in front of her. Her body felt solid again and she used all of her weight to pry open the doorway into the Gryffindor common room. It felt like a steel door on a vault one would find in Gringotts.

His laugh echoed behind her, filling her with a strange warmth, an excited feeling sliding into her stomach. She glanced behind her, catching sight of his dark hair as he rounded the corner.

"No!" she laughed, the portrait finally giving away. She stumbled through, her legs feeling heavy and leaden as she made her way through the common room and up the stairs to the girl's dormitory.

She'd made it, bursting the door open to her dormitory, his laugh giving away his position just behind her. Still, Lily laughed in triumph, clinging to one of the columns of her four poster bed. "You didn't catch me."

He was just behind her as she turned, his face close enough to catch her breathless. She could make out hazel eyes, her mind thick with clouds. "I still have time," he said, pulling her close, hands at her waist.

It was back to raining the next morning. The sound of it pattering against the window was what roused Lily awake slowly, blinking her eyes heavily against the pull of sleep. It was tempting, of course, to fall back asleep, press her face back into her cool pillow and shut her eyes...

But then, the events of the night before came rushing back to her.

Petunia's wedding. Sirius and James showing up. James escorting her back home, her giving him his gift, him in her room…

She shivered, despite being snuggled in the warm cotton sheets. Was it odd she could still feel the press of his hands against her waist?

It was odd.

"Bloody Potter," she groaned, rubbing at her tired eyes, her warm cheeks.

A sharp scream of surprise escaped her when a loud tapping noise rapped against the window's glass. She jumped up from the bed as if being caught doing something wrong.

It was her owl, looking harried and wet – and very, very unhappy with her. In his beak hung a white, soggy letter with her name scrawled in Marlene's familiar handwriting.

She threw the window open, rain splattering against her arms and face as her owl shuffled in quickly, shaking off the excess water onto her desk. He appeared disgruntled, only slightly appeased when she snapped the window closed tightly, shutting out the poor weather.

"Sorry, boy," she said to the owl, allowing him to jump onto her arm so that she could set him on his perch in his cage. "I didn't think Mar would send you back."

She made sure he was well fed before digging into the letter, nearly tearing the damp parchment in the process.

Fortunately, most of the ink of the letter was still intact, if not a little smeared, but the paper was already starting to disintegrate. Some of the words were hard to make out.

My Dearest Lily,

I assume that you've been awoken by your lovely, patient, and …th .. owl by tapping upon …... In all seriousness, he'll likely gauge my eyes when you return. Please give him an extra piece of… …. that he may forgive me and not… his feathers.

Lily could fill the words in well enough, absentmindedly running her hand over her owl's damp feathers. The bird deserved heaps of bacon for having travelled in this weather.

He hooted softly, increasing her guilt.

It is undetermined whe ... or not you're angry with me for having … …..heated letter with Remus, who in turn, shared your shite Christmas hols experience with Black and Potter via owl.

D….. show up? Was …. a…. successful in sweeping …... feet? Or at the least…. your sister's wedding not such a horror show?

I assume it went better than expected, for I have yet to receive a howler…

"You had my owl, you dolt," she murmured, the ink smudging against her thumb.

But alas, your owl sits beside me now, preventing you from sending a howler that'll knock me into the next century!

She huffed, narrowing her eyes at the letter as if Marlene could sense her.

I can only hope… ….. self-discovery and have revealed your…. … and you'll return to Hogwarts with… oud 9 and ¾! Enjoyed that pun, didn't you?

Much love & affection,

Your dearest Mar-Mar

P.S. Yes! I'll be your bridesmaid. I can steal away your unused dress. Ouch, too soon?

Though most of the words were smeared and unreadable, Lily still caught the gist of her friend's message. With an uneasy laugh, she tossed the letter onto her desk.

And then scoffed. And then scoffed again.

There was certainly no need for Marlene to make completely unjust guesses and insinuations…

It prompted a nagging thought in her mind… one she couldn't bring herself to say it aloud. She couldn't even bring herself to think it in her mind, for that matter.

It all suddenly felt… inevitable. Out of her control. She was spiraling deep into her thoughts and it was a dangerous place.

Lily sunk into her desk chair, feeling woozy.

Maybe it wasn't a sinking sensation in her stomach… maybe it was a swooping sensation, not unlike butterflies…

She shouldn't be thinking about him. It was James, for Merlin's sake. He was vexing, immature, and thoughtless….

All of which he wasn't last night. He had been… kind. Empathetic. Understanding.

All of the things she thought he couldn't be. Where had this boy come from? Where was the boy who was juvenile, played ill-willed-spirited pranks, and drove her crazy? Why hadn't he made an appearance in the last few weeks – maybe months?

It suddenly made her angry thinking about all of this. She'd done her best to ignore her friends' teasing remarks throughout the year, only chalking it up to them being daft.

But Marlene's teasing, even Sirius's comments last night about her being affected by James's speaking to another girl. She hadn't been… had she?

And there was that sinking feeling again… inevitable.

Maybe there was still some champagne in her system.

Yes… yes, that had to be it. She was still tipsy. That was why her cheeks still felt flush, and there was an odd sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach.

Not… because of the way she felt about James. Potter.

It wasn't so much a decision, as it was a realization. She well and truly fancied –

Her knee knocked against the desk drawer she had left open from the night before, the same drawer that had held James's gift. Lily frowned thoughtfully, catching sight of Sirius's neatly wrapped gift still tucked into its spot in the full drawer.

A sudden idea struck her, so grandly different from her normal thoughts that she nearly gasped aloud.

It's not that she felt a desire to see James again, any time soon. It just… wouldn't be bad to see him. To confirm her… suspicions.

Lily gnawed on her lower lip, reaching down to grab the gift she had curated for Sirius, hidden within a box that was slightly larger than the size of her palm. She placed it beside Marlene's soggy letter, gingerly adjusting them so that they were of equal distance apart.

"Are you completely mad?" she asked herself, setting her chin in her hand as she stared down at the two items.

A groan escaped her as she collapsed back against her chair. It was obvious her subconscious had already made its decision. Certainly it was not her fluttering heart.

Her mother was in the kitchen, already making a light breakfast of eggs and porridge. The dining table was covered in their handmade floral arrangements, bags, boxes, and random decorations.

"You're looking bright-eyed this morning," Rose said pleasantly, dishing the porridge into a bowl for Lily. "How are you feeling?"

Lily gave a noncommittal shrug, sliding into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. "Fine," she said, accepting the bowl as it was handed to her.

"You look better than fine," her mum said with a disconcerting twinkle in her eye. "Did James get out okay?"

"Yes," she replied in a short tone, shoveling a spoonful into her mouth.

"Just making sure," Rose said. "Wouldn't want his parents upset."

"We're near seventeen," Lily pointed out, swallowing hard. "He was fine."

"Wouldn't want them to be disapproving, either…"

"I will chuck this plate at you," she threatened, though she had said the same damn thing the night before.

Her mom pulled her expression into a less teasing one, but Lily still glared. "Alright, alright, I won't mention it."

"Thank you." She took another bite. "Have you heard from Pet?"

"I did; she left a message. Her and Vernon are on their way to the airport now – had some issues last night with the caterers not properly packing up leftover food for their trip, so that was a rather harrowing experience." Rose turned off the stove top, dishing eggs onto her own plate. "They'll be in Ibiza by tonight."

A location, Lily thought, that was very surprising for her sister to have chosen for a honeymoon spot. But, as she experienced, it was clear she hadn't known her sister for a while…

She took another bite of her porridge, forcibly trying to change her chain of thought.

"So, I was thinking of…"

"Yes?" Rose prompted when her pause lasted longer than normal, sliding into the seat beside her.

"I was thinking of taking a trip today. If that's alright?"

"It's supposed to storm." Her mother gave her a curious grin, taking a sip of her tea. "A trip? To where?"

"Well, I realized I forgot to give Sirius his gift, and instead of sending it via owl – have you seen outside? That weather looks horrible – I was thinking of delivering it myself. You know? I think it might help me take my mind off of things – or keep me busy. You know, I finished all my work for school, and I've totally watched enough telly…"

"Right," Rose said, tilting her cup to hide her smirk. "So you'd go to the Potter's to take Sirius his Christmas gift?"

"Yes, right. Sirius."

Her mum was nodding her head, giving Lily a look. "Of course."

"Mum."

"What? I didn't say anything! But yes, you can go. Now that the wedding is over, we can relax. Go, hang out with your friends. Take the car."

"Really?" she asked, surprised.

"Sure."

"Actually, I was thinking I'd just take the Knight bus. The weather does look something awful…"

"Not a bad idea," Rose said, finishing off her tea. "Are you going to be leaving soon? Or do you think you can help me organize this mess of a room before you head out?"

"Yes, absolutely," she said, feeling a rush of nervousness, accepting that her plan was solidified. Inevitable.

Lily let the rush of her thoughts mellow in the midst of attempting to clear and order the chaos of the remaining wedding decorations and dredging. In this, she could dim her overzealous brain.

It wasn't until she was elbow deep in dismantled centerpieces her mum finally broke.

"So… James, yes?"

She groaned, dropping the flowers onto the table. "Mum."

"I'm allowed to be interested! I just married off one daughter… I need to know if I have to prepare to wed off my last."

"Mum," she stressed.

Rose gave her a sincere look that, despite the teasing, softened her.

It was spilling out. "I don't… know how I'm feeling, to be honest." She picked up a loose flower. "I thought maybe that I loathed him… and then, I guess we've been around each other more. And he's not… as bad… as I thought he was."

She cringed as she said it.

Her mum was looking very understanding though, nodding her head as she listened.

"But I don't know if I should… like him. Or…"

"Give him a chance?"

"I feel incredibly… daft, Mum. That maybe I have feelings for him. Like they might've been there all along and everyone else was in on the joke but me."

"Lily…" Her mum reached over and grabbed her hand, patting it delicately. "You don't have to like him, if you don't want to. You're young, in school. You're allowed to be attracted to boys your age. That does not mean anything needs to come from it."

She was glad to hear her mum say it, giving her a chance to acknowledge she could like… James, but that she didn't need to act on it.

"But what if I want to?" she asked in a small voice.

"Then we both know you'll go for exactly what you want."

"It… feels complicated."

"It always is," Rose replied sympathetically.

"I don't even know if he fancies me anymore, honestly. I've spent so much time and… effort putting distance on it, I feel silly."

"Then you'll have to move past it, if this is what you want. But there's no need to rush. Stay friends. If that friendship grows…"

Lily nodded to herself, feeling emboldened by her mother's words. "If that friendship grows…"

"Now help me put the rest of these gift boxes in Petunia's room. I cannot have them taking up this much space in here."

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

She figured she couldn't get into trouble – she wasn't technically using magic. Besides, James had done it the night before and no Ministry officials had shown up in their midst.

Lily raised her hand, wand tucked into her sleeve to hide it from any possible spying eyes.

The Knight Bus arrived just as it had done the night before. Sudden and frighteningly loud.

"You again, eh?" Hilda gave her a toothy smile. "Come aboard!"

She jumped up into the doubledecker steps, glancing around curiously.

"Name?"

"Lily Evans," she provided promptly, turning back to face Hilda and holding onto the nearest pole to brace herself. She'd seen how fast it had taken off. "How much for a ride?"

"It'll be 5 sickles."

She dug into the front of her bag, fishing out the required payment and dropped the sickles into the woman's waiting hand, who in turn dropped them into a cache attached to the partition that separated them from the driver.

He nodded and reached forward to flip a switch. A familiar song burst from the speakers that caused Hilda to wince.

"That's Ernie," said Hilda, hitching a thumb towards him. "Pay him no mind, he's into a thing called the 'Beetles' recently."

"Really?" Lily asked in interest, peering over Hilda's shoulder to catch sight of 'Ernie', a somewhat older gentleman, bobbing his head to 'Love Me Do' and wearing a pair of Christmas antlers that had been transfigured to look like a pair of antennae.

"Has been all month," Hilda said with an affectionate smile. "It's best if you have a seat, love," she said, nodding her head to a bench along the side. "Unless you want a bed? Just five sickles more, love."

"No," she replied, taking a seat. "I'm fine sitting."

"Suit yourself." The woman leaned back against the partition, rapped twice on the glass.

Lily felt like her neck nearly snapped from the bus's sudden lurch forward. The back of her head knocked against the bar across the back of the seat and she grimaced, struggling to even bring her hand up to rub at the injury.

"Apologies," Hilda said, clinging to the pole in front of her. "I should've given you a better warning."

"It's alright," she replied, rubbing at the sore spot. "I should've expected it."

"Now I guess I oughta ask you where you're headed?" Hilda asked, pulling out a ledger and using her wand to write on it.

"Well, I uh, I hoped…"

Hilda gave Lily a suggestive wink. "Ah, wanting to visit that boy from last night, eh?"

But she couldn't protest – it was exactly what she was doing. "Yes," she said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Just a friend," she felt the need to add.

"Of course," said the woman with another overexaggerated wink. "A friend."

Lily turned away to look out the window, scrunching her nose in displeasure. He was, after all, just a friend. And besides, she was travelling there to see Sirius…

Hilda was unfazed, chuckling in amusement. "Well, it's a good thing I've still got last night's log! Says, 'Potter Manor' right here."

Potter Manor? She nearly balked, thinking back and recalling Sirius throwing out the title, but she thought he'd been joking.

"Hear that, Ernie? We've got to head north!"

Lily was jolted from her thoughts as the doubledecker took a swift, dangerous U-turn, nearly toppling the bus over. She clung to her seat, practically tossed off of it by the force of the turn.

Hilda was standing nearly diagonal from the floor. "We'll be there quicker than a kniffler finding gold, love!"

Judging by the blurry landscape that passed by the window, Lily assumed the idiom was accurate. Her stomach flipped as she realized that maybe she wouldn't have as much time to mentally prepare as she would have liked.

"So you two been seeing each other for long?" Hilda asked, resting her chin against her arm as she clung to the bar beside her.

She began to splutter at the question, doing her best to recover her composure. "I – I mean, we're just schoolmates. I'm just going there for a visit."

"Aye, of course," the woman said in an unconvincing manner. "Friends."

The woman had an odd twinkle in her eye that Lily didn't appreciate much.

"Yes. Just friends," she mumbled, turning her gaze back towards the blurred landscaping passing through the window to hide her blush.

"You know, I had a friend like that once," Hilda sighed. "He was… a real knockout, ya know? Prettier than Horacio the Wren Rangler. Mm, and sweeter."

"Oh?" she asked in feigned interest, still put off by the woman's earlier 'friends' assumption. She had heard of Horacio the Wrangler. Had even seen a portrait of him in the newspapers. Maybe she was a little interested in this woman's history.

"Oh, yes. And that arse! Belonged on a magazine cover. Tight, and pert, and peachy. Would've sworn he was a Quidditch player."

Lily let out a short laugh, suddenly gaining an aversion to not have a conversation that strayed towards Quidditch players...

Hilda got a far away look on her face, reminiscing about greater times. "Real sorry it had to end. He was looking for a real commitment – and I was just having fun, you know?" She sighed deeply, wrapping both arms around the metal bar now.

"I wanted to travel to other countries, didn't want to be tied down. I wanted to learn more and experience more. I had played it so safe at Hogwarts. He was my first taste of adventure! Couldn't imagine all those firsts with anyone else. But it just made me want more adventure. Well, and of course, I thought he was wanting to keep things casual too – but blimey, did I find out far too late…"

Lily caught herself, pulling herself back into a straighter position from where she was leaning into Hilda's story. She nodded empathetically, but knew Hilda couldn't see the motion through her veiled eyes.

"We graduated, went our separate ways. I was able to travel to France, Germany. Merlin, it was amazing. But I haven't heard from him since, been too afraid to owl… I hope he found what he was looking for…"

The bus came to a sudden halt, nearly flinging Lily into the back of the seat in front her. Hilda broke away from her trance, shaking herself back to the present.

"Looks like we're here!" she announced, all signs of regret disappeared.

Lily's jaw snapped shut and she stood hesitantly, almost forgetting her bag.

"This is…. Potter Manor?"

It was exactly that – a manor.

Lily was no fool – she had known that James had been well-off. He always appeared to have the latest Quidditch gear (Marlene whinged way too often about it), the nicest cauldrons for potions (she'd lost track of how many he ruined after what she was sure was eleventy) and his robes always had a freshly pressed, newly bought look to them.

But this... this was a little daunting.

"Aye," Hilda said, checking her ledger once more. "I remember these gates more than anything."

"Right," she said, adjusting her bag nervously.

"Want us to round the corner for ya? Buy some time?"

It was tempting, but she doubted the speed of the bus would grant her more than five seconds, which was not nearly enough time to gather her quickly waning courage.

Why was she doing this again? Couldn't she have just owled Sirius his gift?

No. She needed to see James again, thank him – them for supporting her through a shite night.

"Thanks, Hilda," she said bracingly. "I think I've got it."

She stepped down from the bus's running board, her worn boots crunching down the snow below her feet. She turned back slightly, catching Hilda's eye. "Hilda, send him that owl. Maybe you could still be what he's looking for."

Hilda looked touched, giving Lily a genuine smile. She ruined the moment when she said, "Have fun with your friend, love," with a saucy wink.

The double-decker disappeared with a loud BANG before Lily could correct or chastise the woman.

She huffed in embarrassed annoyance and glanced around surreptitiously, brushing her wind blown hair from her face as she took in the rest of her surroundings.

It was a large estate, the structure of the home set back against large rolling hills covered in snow. A wooded area backed the manor, making it seem larger and more grand than what it really was.

Lily grimaced.

No. It was huge. Definitely grand.

With a bracing breath, she trudged forward in the wintery air, thankful that she had worn her heavy winter coat, but somewhat miffed that she left behind her gloves and scarf.

The iron fence that caged in the property was also impressive, the posts high and imposing, but the gated entrance parted surprisingly easy as she pushed it open. For a moment, she had thought the gates would've been locked, warding off solicitors, but as she glanced around the vast fields around, she doubted they had much worry for solicitors.

To help lessen her nerves, she counted the footsteps it took to reach the dark wooden front door. It helped build her courage, the countdown reminiscent of the Game.

...5..6…

9..10…

15...16...17…

24… 26...32…

55… 81…

She gave up after step number 112 and found herself walking faster to lessen the gap between herself and the manor more quickly. Her bravery was starting to dwindle.

A glance backward made her feel better, realizing she was well over halfway there.

When she was finally upon the home's threshold, she took an extra moment to catch her breath, the steam evaporating in front of her. It floated up dreamily, disappearing into the air.

Lily knocked.

And was instantly filled with regret and embarrassment, stemming from the oddest causes.

Did I knock hard enough? Merlin, is James going to think too much into this? Shite, I should probably thought more into this. Should I have used the antique knocker instead? My god, what if HIS PARENTS answer? Is there anything in my teeth? Bloody hell, I can't remember if I brushed my teeth. I did, right? Yes, right after brushing my hair out. God, but the wind surely messed it up? Jesus, am I rude for showing up without warning? I could've just sent a damn letter. Why the HELL am I so nervous!

Her hands felt numb. The last time she had shown up unexpectedly at a friend's house was Severus's. It hadn't been a pleasant experience.

She waited.

The door swung open before she had the chance to flee.

A blast of warm air flowed out and hit her in the face. She wasn't sure if she was relieved or annoyed at finding Sirius was the one to answer the door.

The confounded look on his face was amusing at least.

"Evs?" He asked, shocked.

"Hello, Black."

He opened the door wider, craning his neck to look around her as if someone had kidnapped her and left her on the doorstop.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

"Freezing my arse off, apparently."

He snorted. "I guess I have no other choice but to let you in." He stepped back to allow her inside the manor before quickly shutting the door behind her.

Lily was very conscious of trekking the snow in, watching as it fell away from her shoes in large clumps against the ornamental rug, of which took up the entire space of what could be considered the home's own entrance hall.

"It'll melt," Sirius assured with a smirk, catching her concerned look. "There's also a thing called magic." He pulled his wand from his pocket and to vanish the snow, but it left behind wet patches.

Lily gave him an unimpressed look.

He merely shrugged. "And you're here because…?"

She had already turned to scan her surroundings, the large doorways that led away from the room they were, the grand spiraling staircase. "I'm here to give you your gift."

"Me?" he asked, obviously surprised.

She patted her bag, bringing it around to her front.

"And that's the only reason?"

Lily turned around to find Sirius leaning back against the front door, arms crossed and usual smirk across his face.

"Why else would I be here?" she retorted, a coward, pulling the rectangular box from her bag.

"And you couldn't have… owled it?"

"I could have," she acquiesced, her cheeks warm. "But that's not in the Christmas spirit, is it?"

"Of course not," he agreed in stride, pushing himself away from the door and coming to stand in front of her. He held out his hand. "Let's have it, then."

The box was dropped into his hand from hers. He shook it out of curiosity.

She winced. "Not too hard – it's not exactly breakable, but it's not quite indestructible."

Sirius looked pleased with this information. "Shall I save it for Christmas morning?"

Lily shrugged. "Truly up to you."

The wrapping paper was already being torn from the gift before she'd finished the sentence. Sirius dropped the torn wrapping onto the floor, prying open the cardboard box.

"Oh, it's…?" He plucked the black rectangular device from the box, a wire connecting to the earphones.

"A cassette player," she clarified. "Remus said you have been enjoying music more lately, so I thought…"

"It plays music?" he asked, intrigued, turning the device over in his hands, thumb running over the switches.

"It does," she confirmed, reaching over to press a button. Music blared from the earpieces loudly. "It's not brand new, mind you. Honestly, I stole it from Pet."

He barked out a laugh, holding up the headphones separately. "A gift received by thievery? My favorite. How do I…?"

"Put it over your head – so the black bits go over your ears."

Sirius did as directed, adjusting them just so. He grinned widely. "This is brilliant!" he said loudly, no longer having sense of his own volume now. "Thanks, Evs."

She winced involuntarily, suddenly embarrassed by his loudness – aware that James could hear.

Sirius's head was bobbing to the music, pleased with the device. He turned it over in his hands again, pressed a button that fast-forwarded the cassette.

"I should probably go," she said, tightening her bag closed and throwing it over her shoulder.

"What?" he asked boomingly.

"Oh, my God," she laughed, gesturing for him to take off the new headphones.

He did, head still bobbing with a wide smile. "Sorry?"

"I should probably go," she repeated with a reluctant smile. "I came to give you your gift. And I guess since I've given it to you…"

"Right."

"Right. So, um, I think I'll just head out then."

Sirius smirked. "Of course. Unless… you wouldn't want to see Prongs, would you?"

"Oh, no, no." She shook her head vehemently. "I was just dropping off your gift. That's all."

"Sure. My gift. That's all."

"Don't be an arse," she complained.

"Me? Never," he said. "Come on, let me take your coat before Mama Potter yells at me for lacking in manners."

She scoffed. "She should yell at you regardless."

Her fingers were unbuttoning her coat anyways. She slid it off her shoulders and handed it over, along with her bag, where he tossed them both onto a nearby table. "Sirius," she chastised with another involuntary laugh.

"Let's go find James," he replied, walking past her and motioning her to follow.

She did so, hesitantly, overly aware of her surroundings as she kept pace with him. He led her to the grand stairs, where upon closer look, spiraled up three stories. Unsurprising, given how large the home appeared from outside, but still alarming.

They stopped at the second floor, Sirius turning a sharp left towards a wide, classically decorated hallway. There were at least six rooms at this end of the hallway, she counted, well spread apart. She wondered how large the rooms were.

She didn't have to wait long.

Sirius stopped in front of the third door on the left, knocked loudly. "Prongs!" He twisted the doorknob and pushed the door in.

Lily hadn't been sure what to expect; her eyes roamed the room hungrily, taking in the burgundy walls covered in moving posters, the scattered clothing, and random quidditch related items – and, in the middle against the back wall, a large four poster bed.

James was lying on the bed, one knee bent as he concentrated on releasing and seizing the (what she assumed was) gifted snitch from the air.

"What do you need, Pads?" he asked plainly, focused on his task.

"Evs came by to drop off my gift," Sirius said, music still blaring from the headphones settled around his neck.

In a manner that caused a sense of deja vu to wash over her from the first time she'd been brought up to the boys' dorm by Remus, James's head swiveled over towards their position at the door, jerking up into a seated position as he did a double-take.

"Evans?"

"Hello," she said, trying to sound unfazed by the fact she was now in James Potter's bedroom.

"Wasn't that nice of her?" Sirius asked promptingly.

"What?" James replied, obviously still processing the sight of her in his room. His eyes darted around the space, skimming over the tossed about clothes.

"That she brought me my gift," Sirius continued, tapping his fingers against the cassette player.

James rolled off the bed in a single maneuver, and Lily's eyes unwillingly stuttered over his form. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt, paired with a pair of well worn sweatpants. Gryffindor red. Had she often seen him out of his uniform shirt and trousers?

His hand immediately went to his hair to try and flatten it, a habit she was now starting to recognize as nervousness.

"Now I'm going to go enjoy my gift in my room," Sirius said loudly, pulling the headphones back over his ears and departing the room without another room.

"Hey," he said with a stilted chuckle, kicking aside a pair of trousers. "Alright?"

His feet were bare – which felt way more sensual than realistically it should have. She'd seen him shirtless before, for Merlin's sake – but the fact she was in his bedroom, him barefoot, felt oddly intimate.

Involuntarily, a laugh – probably too high pitched to not sound nervous – escaped her at the sound of his obvious confusion. "I'm alright," she confirmed, twisting to stare around his room in an attempt to hide her flushed cheeks.

He chuckled and she glanced over her shoulder to catch sight of him running a hand over his face.

God, had this been a bad decision? She'd been too spontaneous. She should've owled. Suddenly engulfed by the weight of her embarrassment, she turned towards the door. "Well, I really just stopped by to give Sirius his gift. It only felt fair, you know?"

She nearly tripped over a lone dress shoe in her haste to escape towards the exit.

"Wait –"

"You've got a lovely home," she said, ducking through the doorway. When she stepped into the corridor, she stopped abruptly, flustered by the loss of her sense of direction. Had she come from the left? The right?

"Evans!" James called and she could hear his footsteps just inside his room. He emerged from the doorway at full speed, nearly knocking into her. "Oh – you're –"

"Lost," she said sheepishly. "Was it – this way?"

"No," he said with a wide grin, recovering easily. "Not unless you want to get lost in the west wing."

"West wing?" she repeated in disbelief. "God, I thought learning Hogwarts was hard. You live here?"

He laughed. "Since I was born," he confirmed.

"No wonder you had no issues getting adjusted to the castle 1st year."

"Floorplan's pretty much the same."

"Obviously," she said, deadpanned.

"Did you want to – stay for tea?"

"Oh," she murmured, glancing towards the way she had come. When she turned back, his hand was back in his hair nervously, shirt rucked up over the waistband of his pants to reveal tanned skin. She moved her eyes away quickly. "I'm not sure."

"At least a cup before you leave," he said. "It's snowing out, yeah?"

She struggled internally with his offer. There weren't any nearby windows, being that they were in the middle of the long corridor, but she ended up shrugging helplessly. "Alright. I could stand for a cuppa."

James grinned. "Brilliant. Then this way it is," he gestured, having her lead the way into the west wing.

"Where would one find the kitchen in a home like this?" she asked wryly, turning the corner towards the right as he lightly guided her with a hand at her waist.

"Main level just off of the conservatory," he replied glibly.

She snorted – until she realized he was being honest. "You've got –"

"It's mainly for dad," he was quick to assure. "He's got loads of plants and things growing there."

"He's got his own greenhouse?" she squeaked as he maneuvered around her to push open a door that led to a set of twisted stairs.

"He does," James said, pressing her forward. "He needs it for his concoctions."

She began to descend the staircase. "What does he do with it?"

He followed close behind her, his bare feet silent against the stairs. "Well, he's retired actually. But he still likes to tinker, you know? Always has to try something new. Mum says he's always getting into something he shouldn't."

"Apple doesn't fall too far from the tree then, yes?"

He laughed. "You should have seen the things he came up with. I suspect over half, you couldn't even guess what brews he's mixed up."

"So he's a potioneer?" she guessed.

James laughed again. "You're serious?"

"What?"

"You know my dad," he said assuredly.

"I've only met your mum," she said, confused.

"Sleekeazy," he said as they made it to the landing.

"That hair product Marlene uses?"

"Why do you think she has so much? She's conned me into getting her a discount."

"Wait, wait," she said, pausing. "What does Sleekeazy have to do with your dad?"

"It's his company. Well, it was, but he sold it off shortly after I was born. He helped create nearly all the products – Merlin, they still floo him to help with new ones."

"Oh," she said blankly, a bit impressed. "So your dad has a whole dedicated greenhouse for his own ingredients?"

James shrugged with a grin. "He does."

"Well," she said, a bit short.

"Come on, this way," he laughed, stepping around her to advance forward, where this corridor did have windows; tall, sprawling ones with stained glass designs – that moved. It reminded her of the stained glass mermaid in the prefect bathroom.

The tea, she hated to admit, was devastatingly delicious, and seemed to dispel whatever coldness that had clung to her limbs.

He'd made it, using his wand (bloody unfair, that was) and had grabbed a copper container from one of the tall, dark, kitchen cupboards, allowing time for the tea to seep before pouring it into two ceramic mugs and presenting her with one.

It had given her time to study the large room around her, curious what else they kept in their cupboards. From her seat at the kitchen table, she had estimated that her own, homey kitchen would have fit in the large room thrice over.

"Where are your parents?"

"Mum's probably in the library reading, dad's probably in the greenhouse, as mentioned."

"Should we…?"

"Let them know you're here?" he surmised, setting down his mug with a grin. "Nah. Mum will pester you to death, offer food, and then dad will probably also pester you to death."

She shrugged a shoulder. "So not too different from you?"

"Ha," he said blandly, taking another sip. "You don't have to stick around if you don't want to."

"Seeing as I successfully gave Sirius his gift, I guess there isn't much reason to stay."

They stared at each other for a moment, sizing up the other at length.

"Shall I show you the library, then?"

"That'd be wonderful, thanks," she replied with a bright grin. "Should I…?"

"You can bring the mug with," he assured, standing from his chair across from her.

She wondered when or how he'd become so adept at reading her. Besides, she really didn't want to leave the cup behind. It was delicious. She slid out of her seat to follow him, conscious still of her booted feet and his bare ones. "Don't tell me the library is in the east wing."

He grinned over his shoulder. "I'm pleased to share that it is not in the west wing. It's just down the corridor."

"Do you spend a lot of time in there?"

"Not normally," he admitted. "Too many breakables. Mum tended to give me the boot if I spent too much time in there, really. Didn't trust me much."

"Fair enough," Lily laughed. "I can't count how many vases you've broken in McGonagall's classroom."

"It's not my fault they're so prone to be knocked over."

"Oh, no, not your fault at all."

"How else would I have perfected my mending charm?"

"You are pretty good at those," she admitted,

"A compliment? From Lily Evans?"

"Credit given when due."

He snorted. "There have been plenty of times I –"

She tsked. "I said when due, didn't I?"

He matched her smirk, gesturing towards a door on her left. "This'll be it."

He followed her closely to open the door over her shoulder and she tried not to note how good he smelled. Her mouth dropped open as the door revealed the room beyond.

"How many are there?" she asked, a bit bowled over at the sight of bookshelves and rows of stacks.

He used his hand to press her forward, his fingers pressing into the space between her shoulder blades. "I'm not sure we keep count, honestly. There's some old books here. Collected over the years from the Potters and the Peverells."

She paid special mind to her cup of tea now, not wanting the liquid to slosh over the sides. "I see why your mum kicked you out."

"Would've murdered me," he agreed, hand still urging her forward.

"Mrs. Potter, in the library, with the candlestick," she said wryly, taking in the space around her.

He gave her a concerned look. "What?"

"Sorry, muggle thing –"

"Oh, good, you aren't planning to murder me –"

"Mon nounours, is that you?"

Lily glanced out of the corner of her eye to catch sight of James's cheeks redden.

"Yes, mum, it's me." His hand reflexively reached up to flatten his hair. "And we've got a visitor."

"Non," Mrs. Potter's voice called, coming nearer as she spoke. "Sirius isn't company, he's now famille."

Lily could tell by the older woman's tone that she must've been used to this jest, having welcomed Sirius into her home with open arms.

"Actually," James clarified. "It's Evans."

Mrs. Potter revealed herself from behind the aisle of bookshelves, donned in a maroon velvet cloak that was stylishly cut. "Petit cherie!" she greeted with warm surprise. "I would have never expected you here."

"Hello, Mrs. Potter," she replied, suddenly shy.

The older woman stooped forward, sweeping her into her arms for a tight hug. "I hope James has been kind."

"Mum."

"He has," she confirmed with a grin. "Very manner-ly. Made me a cup and tea and everything."

"Merveilleux," Mrs. Potter hummed, crossing her arms. "I am very pleased."

"I was just showing her around the house," James inserted with an eyeroll. "Thought we'd say hello before moving on."

"Of course, of course. Take your time. Be sure to show her the le conservatoire."

"Next on the agenda, mum."

"It was wonderful to see you, Mrs. Potter," Lily added, feeling James's hand on her upper arm to guide her back out of the room. "My mum says hello."

"The wedding! That's right, petit cherie," Mrs. Potter gasped. "How was it?"

"Mum," James complained. "I've told you everything already."

"Oh, c'est bon," his mother huffed, waving them off. "Lovely to see you, Lily. If you see him, tell your papa I'll have tea time ready."

James ushered Lily out of the room before they could chat further, something Lily found herself surprisingly saddened by.

"She's quite lovely," she commented, taking another large gulp of tea as he pulled her along.

"She is," he agreed. "But I can't trust her not to –"

"Tease you? Share your embarrassing secrets?"

He laughed gruffly, realizing he was still holding onto her arm. "You jest, but yes."

"I guess I'll have to chat with her before I leave then," she teased, letting her eyes wander over the stained glass windows of the next corridor they entered into. Through one of them, she could see a tall structure beyond, built of windows open to the sky. "Is that the –"

"Conservatory? Yes."

"Is it –"

"Two stories? Yep – Dad added the second level when space got a bit tight. Have I said he's a bit mad about his ingredients?"

"A bit," she laughed.

When they entered, the room was pleasantly muggy, a sharp contract to the snow that had been accumulating against the glass roof above them, seen through the array of brilliant, green branches and leaves.

"Didn't you fail your herbology exam? I mean, surely, with all of this, you might've learned something."

"That was third year," he said wistfully. "And I was a bit rebellious around that age."

"At that age?"

He made a noncommittal noise.

"No wonder Hagrid had you help plant those Alihotsy plants," she murmured, stepping closer to the nearest row of planted flora; a bright, electric yellow. "And here, I was thinking Sprout disliked you because you were trash at herbology."

James snorted, now the one to follow closely behind her. "Apparently she has a limit to how many helpful suggestions a student has to improve her garden."

"Is that why she booted you out of class last year, when we were learning about flitterblooms?"

"She was suffocating them," he said insistently. "Dad would've had a fit had he seen the state of them."

"Which warranted you to depot them in the middle of class and let one nearly tear apart Peter's face with its tentacles?"

He waved her off. "Pete was fine. The flitterblooms were much better off."

She giggled, mindful not to touch the petals of what she suspected was Lady's Mantle (with bare hands, it'd cause itchiness that'd last for days). "How did I not know this?"

"That flitterblooms needing more room to grow?"

Lily laughed again. "No. That you were a herbology savant."

"I'm not," he said. "Dad just vents, and talks, and babbles about this stuff and I happen to remember random things."

"Very helpful," she acknowledged, actually touching the next plant – a large bush of asphodel. The petals were soft under her grip, velvety to the touch.

"Hello there," a voice greeted from their right.

"Hey, dad," James said with a grin. "This is Evans. Lily?"

Lily turned to find an older man approaching them with slow, careful steps. His hair was just as thick as James, less wild, and she was a bit surprised to find it silver-streaked, a pale gray.

"Ah, yes! Lily Evans," Mr. Potter said with the signature Potter grin. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

A bit charmed, Lily returned the smile in kind, stepping forward to accept his handshake. "Pleased to meet you as well, sir."

He hummed, giving her a quick glance over and sending James a wink over the top of her head.

Her cheeks warmed. "This greenhouse is brilliantly impressive, sir. How many variants do you have here?"

Mr. Potter's eyes glinted, pleased. "Good eye. Over two hundred and forty-three currently. Are you an enthusiast of plants?"

She shook her head. "Only in regards to potion-making. I wouldn't even know where to start on how to cultivate a plant, let alone get it to survive."

Mr. Potter laughed in earnest. "Admirable to admit. Do you hope to pursue a career as a potioneer?"

"Dad," James interrupted with a huff. "I've only brought her in here to tour the place, not an interview."

In a staggeringly similar manner to his son, Mr. Potter waved him off, all casual charm and easy countenance. "Alright, alright, only curious. I thought I had heard James mention an apprenticeship…?"

"With the ministry," she confirmed, still pink-cheeked. Surely it had come up in casual conversation, she assumed, but she felt inexplicably pleased that James appeared to have told his father about her accomplishments.

"And your proposal?"

"An iteration of the basic healing potion – but with heavier concentrates of Dittany and Levisticum officinale."

Mr. Potter was nodding in thought. "Intended to shorten healing time – perhaps against magical-incurred wounds?"

"Exactly," she grinned, gratified. "But I'm having issues with the –"

"Brewing time," he inserted, a wry smile. "I've had the same problems wherever dittany is involved."

"Yes," she sighed. "The window of time to simmer is so chaotic. I can't seem to narrow it down."

"Artemisia absinthium," Mr. Potter urged. "The smallest amount will help you, I promise."

"Really," she replied, astounded. Something that… simple?

Mr. Potter nodded wisely. "Come, I'll collect some for you. I know Horace's and Pomona's supplies at the school can sometimes be lacking."

"Oh, I –" she glanced over her shoulder towards James, suddenly bashful.

She wasn't sure why she was looking to him for his assent. Perhaps this all felt too personal, getting along with James's father Hell, certainly better than their first time meeting.

But James was already smiling down at her, nodding reassuringly.

"I'd be very grateful," she finished, following the eldest Potter male.

"And if this doesn't work," he was saying as he led them further into the plant-crowded space, "I think I know just the alternative…"

Lily lost track of the time soon after, trailing behind Mr. Potter as he pointed out additional plants and shrubbery, and asking questions when he revealed more rare and peculiar herbage she was unfamiliar with.

"This should keep everything secure until you return to Hogwarts after break," Mr. Potter insisted, handing over the artemisa absinthium in a clear, plastic bag, the greenery inside secured in a humid, warm air.

"This is brilliant, Mr. Potter," she murmured, accepting it with care. "I'll have to let you know how it turns out once brewed."

"Please do," he said with a grin. "That apprenticeship is how I got my start."

"Is it, really?" she asked in surprise.

He nodded proudly, the corner of his smile turned up in the same, confident curve she'd seen on James's own lips millions of times. "Of course, Horace wasn't teaching back then, b–but –"

He broke off suddenly, a great, painful coughing fit wracking his body, and he had to stoop forward, hands gripping the side of one of the planters that held fluxweed to keep himself upright.

"Dad," James worried, moving around her to grab onto his elbow.

Lily stepped back automatically, giving them room, and winced as she listened to Mr. Potter rasp and struggle to breath as he recovered from the fit.

"'M fine, I'm fine," he argued to James, his voice a low croak. "I just need a moment –"

He broke off again, coughing into a kerchief he conjured silently.

"Dad, they said –"

"I'm fine," the older Potter scolded.

"You shouldn't be in the humidity –"

"I was just going to head in –"

James looked towards Lily, as if suddenly remembering she were there.

"Take him inside," she said immediately, patiently. "I'll – stay here."

"Thanks," he murmured, "Come on, Mum was supposed to have tea ready," he said to his dad. "She'll come looking if you don't show up."

"Wouldn't want that, would we?" Mr. Potter said wryly, allowing James to guide him back the way they had come. She caught sight of his kerchief, tinged pink, vanishing with a flick of his wand.

"It was lovely to meet you, Lily," he said kindly, loud enough to hear over his shoulder. "I hope to see you again."

"You, too," she called to their backs, watching with an uneasy twinge in her stomach, twisting the top of the bag in her hands tightly.

She was left alone, turning to stare around at the foliage growing around her as she waited. Glancing over her shoulder, she resumed the path they had been following, trailing along the row of plants as she read the tags, studying their bright colors – or in some cases, dark, off putting shades.

It was impressive, she knew. Certainly she hadn't ever thought to pursue becoming a botanist, but this display of great care and effort could sway her.

She thought of the small fern her mum had bought her two summers before; a sad, sorry excuse for a thriving plant, she knew. Granted, she wasn't there for over half the year to actually take care of it – but it wasn't like it flourished under her care when she was there.

"I'm sorry about that," James's voice called, genuinely regretful.

"Don't be," she retorted immediately, turning back around to face him. "Honestly. I understand."

"I knew he shouldn't have walked for that long – he really needs to take it easy."

"I understand," she repeated gently. "My dad was the same – never really wanted to stay in one place longer than five minutes, really."

"Your dad…?"

"Yeah, my dad was sick. It's really … tough."

James's brow furrowed, leaning closer. "I didn't realize. I mean, I wondered. He wasn't there yesterday…I hadn't heard…?"

"Something called Lewy body dementia," she said softly. "Not something very common in the Wizarding world, it seems, and rare itself. I lost him second year."

He made a wounded noise, sympathetic. "I wondered – I mean, not about your dad. But I could tell something was wrong back then. You weren't – yourself."

"We hardly ever talked back then – beyond me telling you all off, that is. How could you tell?"

He laughed, tapping his finger against the glass case that enclosed the fanged geraniums. "Evans, you're one of the – if not the most – friendliest people in Gryffindor. When you refused to help the 1st Years with finding the common room after getting lost, it was pretty easy to tell you weren't … alright."

She snorted.

Internally, she felt a bit… odd. While that time had been hard, she'd done her best to mask the immense sadness and guilt that nearly drowned her.

It wasn't until Marlene – the beautiful, stubborn friend that she was – sat her down two months after it happened, in the shower stall, fully clothed, and forced her to cry her emotions, that she felt the pressure in her chest release somewhat.

"Are you still… upset over it?"

"Of course," she said promptly, honest. "I still address letters to mum and him, you know. Thinking how much he'd love to hear about the latest gossip in Gryffindor tower."

James chuckled. "A lot does tend to happen."

"He knew," she admitted softly, meeting his eye shyly. "About the game. I told him about the games we'd had so far, about the time I'd dislocated my kneecap and tore the skin straight off of my right palm when I fell trying to skip the trick step on the main staircase."

He whistled when she showed him the scar on her hand, the discolored line of it zigzagged on the side of her palm.

"I'd never tell mum," she said wryly. "She'd probably go mental. But dad – he loved it."

"Loved his daughter getting herself hurt?"

She scoffed, narrowing her eyes. "Loved talking defensive maneuvers. Played rugby, you know. He had plenty of suggestions."

"Rugby?"

"A bit like Quidditch – but not quite like it at all."

James hummed. "I would've liked to meet him."

"You two probably would've gotten along brilliantly," she confessed with a wry grin. "He was captain of his own team back in secondary school."

"A man of great accomplishment," he praised with his own grin.

A clock – somewhere – chimed melodiously. Lily wondered if it had been magicked to sound throughout the whole home – or if there just happened to be one near enough to hear.

"You should probably get going. Before it gets too late, yeah?"

"Oh, yes," she said, swallowing hard as she took a step back from him and wondered when she had moved closer to him.

The windows beyond were revealing the dusk sky, made even darker by the falling snow.

"Lead the way," she said, motioning towards what she assumed was the exit. "Don't want to get lost."

He grinned, reaching his hand up to flatten his hair. "Right."

She watched his form as he ambled on, tracing the line of his shoulders beneath his thin t-shirt. Had tall and lean always been her type? Maybe it had.

He turned his head and caught her eye over his shoulder, smiling, and a bit sheepish, she returned it, feeling as if she'd been caught out. But his smile didn't falter or turn teasing, so perhaps she was overthinking it.

"Prongs scare you off already?" Sirius revealed himself around the curve of the staircase, entering the large foyer just as James and she came to a stop near the front door.

"Something like that," Lily replied placidly, walking forward to grab her coat from the table Sirius had thrown it earlier.

It was mostly dry, save for some damp spots.

"Thanks for letting me in," she said to Sirius, pulling her hair out from the collar of the coat and reaching to grab her bag, careful to stuff her newly acquired plant into the opening. "I'll be off, then."

"Prongs would've had me flayed had I turned you away." Sirius tucked the headphones around his neck.

James snorted, rolling his eyes.

"Thanks for this," Sirius continued, raising the cassette player in his hand. "This is brill."

"Happy Christmas," she said with a shrug. "Thanks for the tea – and the tour, James."

"How're you – getting home?"

"The Knight bus," she confirmed. "I'm not actually even sure where we –"

"Very, very far north," Sirius inserted. "I'd offer to apparate you, but I've no idea where you live."

"And I suppose I'd like to leave it that way. Can't have you pop over just because you feel like it."

"Fair enough."

"I guess I'll see you at school?"

"Of course," James said, stepping around her to place his hand on the door handle, presumably to open it for her.

"Then I guess I'll also wish you two a Happy New Year, as well." She nodded to James, prompting him to open the door – sweeping a strong blast of wind and snow into the entryway and she shivered.

"Happy New Year, Evans," James offered, just loud enough for her to hear over the gail of wind.

"See you," she said softly, gathering the courage to meet his gaze one last time.

"Bye, Evs!" Sirius called as she stepped through the doorway.

Despite the snowfall over the past few hours, she could still see her footprints stamped into the path. She took care to retrace them, placing the soles of her boots into the same spots as she did when she'd arrived.

She'd gone barely thirty steps when she heard her name called.

Heart suddenly aflutter, she turned, catching sight of James treading through the flurries, a cloak thrown on haphazardly and a pair of chunky black boots, unlaced – Sirius's, she recognized.

"What're you doing?" she asked with a raised voice and a laugh as he came closer.

"I can't have you walking off the property unescorted," he announced, voice at the same level.

"Don't trust me?"

He laughed this time. "My mum wouldn't approve of me not seeing you off properly."

"Ah," she nodded understandingly with a wry grin. "Can't have that."

Another gust of wind had his cloak flapping against his legs and he hunched into himself as he came to stand beside where she stood. "Merlin, this weather is a right bastard."

She laughed. "No worse than last year's Quidditch match against Ravenclaw though, right?"

He shuddered as they fell into step beside each other, trudging in the snow. She paid less mind to her previous steps still imprinted in the snow, conscious of how close they were to each other.

She chuckled, recalling a similar trek to the green houses just the year prior; Peter had slid down the hill an impressive distance, while Marlene had nearly broken an arm trying to catch herself. James and Sirius had turned the trek into a snowball fight, raising their wands to send mounds of snow at all of the students. "Remember when –"

She let out an unappealing squawk as her heel suddenly slipped out from underneath her, arms flailing as she felt herself tip backwards.

James had been close enough to – valiantly – try and stop her from falling. His arm hooked around her waist – but perhaps the force of her fall combined with the lack of traction of his shoes due to the snow, he was pulled down as well.

He landed atop her in a manner reminiscent of one of their previous games – only this time, they'd ended up chest to chest. The accumulated snow had done well enough to cushion the fall somewhat, but the full weight of him knocked her breath straight from her lungs.

He groaned into her neck, a combined sound of discomfort and embarrassment. "Merlin," he bleated. "Are you alright?"

It took her a moment to answer, struggling between the crush of his weight on her lungs still and the laughter that had built up. "You – you –"

He raised his head from its place between her shoulder and neck. "What?"

She could barely see his face, eyes watering as she stuttered against the laughter, wheezing for breath. "You – you're crushing me –"

"Oh, Merlin," he gasped, rolling off of her onto his back beside her. "Why didn't you say anything?"

She let out a loud guffaw, finally able to refill her lungs completely. "I tried, you sod –"

"I'm pretty sure I've broken my kneecap, trying to rescue you," he said indignantly.

He rose onto his elbow and she could feel his eyes on her face, but she couldn't control her laughter, bringing her hands to her face to hide her mirth-filled tears.

"Your kneecap? What about my ribs?"

He waved her off. "Your ribs will heal fine. What good will it do if I can't bloody walk."

"Oh, you're fine," she chided with a grin, wiping away the last of the tears and pulling herself into a seated position. She could feel the back of her hair covered in snow and knew the rest of the back of her fared no better. "Your knee's been through worse."

He sat up beside her, brushing the snow out of his own bedraggled hair. "Thanks, Evans. Your sympathy is astounding."

"You did it to yourself," she said wryly.

"Trying to save you." He jumped up then, dusting off snow from where it had collected on his coat and hair. He held out a hand for her take.

She accepted it, allowing him to haul her up. When she was standing, he dropped her hand, seemingly unaffected and turned towards the gate. She followed behind him, glad he couldn't see her face.

God, was she being thick? It felt appropriately, ironically karmic for her to develop… feelings for him when he, in fact, hadn't been serious about it at all.

If she said something, it'd upset the delicate balance their friendship seems to have taken on over the past few months. Between the Game, their group of friends, did she want to risk that…?

Her footsteps trudged in the snow behind him, making their way towards the entrance of his property.

"Here we are then," he said, over the sound of the wind. He pushed the gate open, offered her his hand a second time in order to help her step over the mound of snow that had accumulated over the curb.

He jumped over it nimbly on steady legs.

"Seems like your knee's just fine, isn't it?"

"Delayed reaction, I'm sure. I bet it'll be smarting the rest of break."

She laughed. "Hoping to milk it for all it's worth? I'm sure your mum will make Sirius bring you your meals to your bed while you recover."

"Merlin. You think I'd trust Sirius to bring me my food?"

"I'd volunteer myself," she said, a bit bold, "but I feel I've overstayed my welcome."

"You're welcome any time," he said, entirely too sincere.

Her heart stuttered. She looked away from his intense gaze, studying the snow-covered terrain. She didn't immediately call for the bus like she should.

Before she could second guess herself or over analyze her motives, she raised both her arms, slipping them around the back of his neck to pull him down into a tight hug.

His arms were already moving around her waist – and surely it was in her imagination that she could feel the warmth of them through her thick coat.

"Thank you for the – tea and tour," she said, lips close to his ear. Her cheeks flushed as she felt a flash of embarrassed contrition. Couldn't she have said something more meaningful?

"Thanks for the visit," he murmured into her hair, loosening his grip around her waist fractionally.

She took it as a sign to release her own hold on him, stepping out of the circle of his arms so that only his hands remained on her wrist.

Her wand raised then, signaling for the bus – which appeared with a loud BANG that she and James surprisingly did not react to this time around.

"See you at school?" she said in farewell.

"I'll be there in the scarlet and gold tie," he quipped, corner of his mouth turned up.

"Well, hello," Hilda said with her own smirk. "Step on aboard, Miss Evans. Trip back home, I presume?"

"You presume correct," she said bracingly, twisting away from James to ascend the step onto the purple transport. "Cokeworth, if you would."

"It'll be back towards London, Ernie!" Hilda called over her shoulder. "Five sickles, love."

Lily handed over the requisite amount of coins, sidestepping the woman to settle into the seat she'd chosen before, sliding her bag off of her shoulder onto the bench seat beside her.

She looked through the glass window where James was still standing, hands shoved deep into his cloak's pockets and shoulders bowed to stave off the cold wind. When she caught his gaze, he grinned, dipped his chin down in farewell.

"We're in for a ride with this snow. Hang tight, love," Hilda instructed.