Hello my beloved readers. Tis your Authoress with postage. Just so you know, I had meant to get a chapter in before this, but it didn't work out, so I was forced to synthesize both chapters. Then I wanted to post this one X-mas but I kept tweaking it and stuff. So if it feels like I'm jumping around, I am. And if it doesn't, good! I've been working hard on this chapter for awhile, so…yeah. Enjoy. (and read til the end for much-overdue shoutouts/responses. There's lots of them).

Last update: 12/12/04

This chapter posted: 12/29/04

Last time on L2B: James and Lily are still on the outs—she burned him, and he is reluctant to accept her forgiveness. He concludes to himself he wants to be in some sort of relationship with her—even if that means being just friends—but doesn't know if he can or think its possible. Lily needs James as a friend rather than a boyfriend right now because things are complicated enough as it is. Sirius is elsewhere, fighting off viscious money-grubbing family members out to contest his late Uncle Alphard's will (which left everything to Sirius), but promised Linda he wouldn't leave her alone on a Christmas eve party. Reg has told Linda a great big secret.

Now. Meha is done babbling.

"My Lord," Lucius Malfoy tried to keep his calm in front of his Lord Voldemorte, but couldn't keep the doubt from his voice. "You can't possibly be thinking—" Lucius was cut off by Riddle's simple glare. The latter practically floated, circling and stopping finally in front of Malfoy.

Riddle stepped forward once. Twice. "You've my instructions. You will obey."

Regulus Black resisted pounding his fist on the table. All around the table 'Death Eaters'—as the newspapers were now calling Riddle's supporters—were seated; some eminating doubt in their lord, others overflowing with their foolish loyalty. He could kill you in an instant, Reg kept reminding himself, just keep your cool. Remember what happened last time. Regulus twitched when he recalled what his leader had done to him the last time Regulus tried to voice his concerns. Just. Shut. Up.

Then an older supporter, Antonin Dolohov—who was also as ruthless as it came, having killed anti-Voldemorte wizards in the past, and having no scruples about killing his own—surprised Regulus by speaking up and perhaps inadvertantly opposing his master's scheme. "But, M'lord, we've already planned—by your instructions—to attack the—"

"I am postponing that plan." Riddle circled the table again, this time his eye was fixed on Dolohiv. "You've all done well following my orders. Indeed, you've proven your loyalty time and time again, done whatever I asked you to do, in the name of the cause." He stopped, his steps dying in the echo of the stone underground lair. "But I find myself wondering what it is that makes it so difficult for you to obey me now. Is this mutiny?" Riddle glared at a select few of his so-called supporters, who shifted in their seats. "Opposition."

There were the random cries further down the long table of "Never!" and "To our Lord do our loyalties lie, and to our Lord do we serve!" Most of these cries came from the Lestranges, just a few seats down.

"We have no reservations about following your orders," another supporter—Augustus Rookwood—assured him. "We just wonder why you would want to postpone a plan that took two months to put into motion, to leave us to even the score of a personal vendetta."

The very ground under their feet shook, rattled, even quivered beneath them. Riddle was proving his might. "Just do it." And he vanished.

Regulus couldn't believe it. He just couldn't believe it. The plan was to attack the—well, guess that was a bust. They couldn't complete that plan successfully without Voldemorte, and he made it abundantly clear that he was not going to be there, not going to help them, because he'd be elsewhere, fulfilling a personal vendetta. The twit, Reg dared to think, a small part of him hoping his master could read his mind. Regulus finally truly understood the saying "stuck between a rock and a hard place." He'd betrayed his side, his family, one of the most powerful wizards on earth, by warning Linda (hoping that she'd in turn warn the appropriate people, especially Amelia, someone he couldn't bring himself to admit to about who he was). And now, they were all probably still in danger. But it didn't matter. Now, because of his master's fickleness, Regulus had risked his life to warn Linda about the wrong thing.

But it was too late, he'd never get there in time even if he could. This woman would die and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Dec. 20th, 1977. Hogwart's Express. Countdown: Five days til Christmas.

In the past few days, the students of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry filled their time by studying for the last few finals, taking the blasted finals, packing and planning for the holiday. Finally, it was time for students and faculty to all flock home for the holidays, bubbling up at the idea of leaving school and all forms of work. With Christmas in only a few days, there was no measure to the excitement felt and expected.

Lily had spent the entire train ride wanting to talk to him, to James, but not. And when she wasn't doing that, she worried about going home and seeing her parents at opposite sides of the room, disgust and a thousand miles between them. Her head swam with thoughts of where and with who she would live, whose house would she stay at on weekends, how chaotic would holiday dinners be?, custody battles, alimony, and all that divorce-drama you see in the Made-for-TV movies. Between her family unit falling apart and the loss of her best friend (which she blamed only herself, but it hit hard all the same), she didn't see Christmas as much of a holiday. In the end, Lily Evans could be found sitting in her Heads Compartment—alone, and bored. She held her camera in her lap, turning it over. She hadn't used in a couple of months with school and everything, but felt a bit more comfortable holding it now. (A/N I introduced some time ago that Lily liked photography and everything and am bringing it back now. Just saying this in case anyone forgot). She turned the camera around to face her, and with a low "Merry Christmas" to herself, the camera flashed—a self-taken portrait of Lily Evans.

James on the other hand—instead of in his own Head Compartment (which in his opinion, 'wasn't big enough for both him and the redhead,' or so he told Remus and Peter)—decided to spend the train ride in Compartment 17, losing round after round of Wizard's Chess to Remus. Peter, in one of his rare appearances lately with his crew, spent the entire ride eating Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans or sleeping (but never really seemed to be at rest since even in his sleep—similar to his conscious hours—he twitched and trembled). Linda caught up on some reading. Meanwhile, Amelia—before joining her friends in Compartment 17—spent most of her time with for-the-most-part quiet Reg (who told her he loved her one more time in hopes of a response, but receiving only a smile and a hug). They were saying goodbye until she'd see him—she hoped!—at the Potter's Christmas party.

A few hours later, and not a moment too soon, the train stopped and its occupants spilled out through the doors, running away it seemed from the fear that they would somehow be forced back on and taken back to school.

"You meeting your parents, Lily?" asked Amelia when they'd all gotten off the train, retrieved their luggage and met up.

Lily smiled too weakly and shook her head. "I'm supposed to grab a cab or something and meet them at the house. Petunia's visiting, too, with Vernon and mum doesn't want to leave them in the house alone."

James, who'd been standing with the group but a good six feet from Lily, brushed passed her. "Just spotted my parents. See you guys in a few days," James said before leaving them.

Amelia glared at James' back out of indignation for Lily. "How un-chivalrous. Knowing you didn't have a ride, and you two being neighbors, and it being the holidays, he could have at least offered to take you home. Not like he doesn't know the way. Oh, look I think that's my dad coming towards me…wearing that winter jumper. Lord."

Linda cut in. "Come on, honey," she picked up one of Lily's bags. "I think I see my mum. We'll give you a ride."

"You sure it's alright?" Lily asked, even though the Linleys lived fairly close to the Evans.

"Alright? Please," Linda scoffed, smiling. "Mum likes you better, and once you give her that brooch you bought her for Christmas, she'll want to adopt you and give you my room."

The Potter Home, nearly an hour later.

James.

He paced his room, unpacking his dark blue suitcase. God, this room was stuffy. Assuming noone had aired it out while he'd been away at school, James went to open his window a crack, despite the cold chill fighting its way in. As he did so, James chanced to see a flash of red in the midst of all that outside white. Lily.

Lily standing on her porch. Staring at the door, her bags in her hands. She wasn't even moving. How long had she been standing there?

He leaned out of the window. "Lily," he called out to her before he could stop himself. He voice pulled her from her reverie, he could tell, because she dropped her bags suddenly as if startled. "What are you doing?"

She looked up at him, squinting. She murmered something, too low for him to hear. "Wait," called James, disappearing from the window. Half a minute later, he emerged from his front door and jogged across the lawn t o land on the step right below Lily. "It's freezing out here, Evans. What are you doing—haunting your porch?" He realized as he asked this, it was the most he'd said to her since, well, that day he yelled at her in the Quidditch pitch. But she was staring at her door, by herself and turning red.

"Linda and her mother just dropped me off," she said, distracted.

Ok, but… "But what are you doing out here, in the absolute frigid, late-December, London weather?" He was getting chills and he'd only just stepped out.

It was awhile before Lily answered. "I can't go in just yet."

"Why not?"

Lily took a steadying breath. "My parents are in there."

"They live there."

"But behind that door, they're separated. Out here on this porch, I still have my childhood image of them happy and in love." She seemed to realize that it was cold out here, and slowly rubbed her hands over each other. "I know it must sound like a broken record at this point—Poor Lily upset about her parents splitting up. I'm sure you guys are all saying how I should get over it, and it's sad but these things happen. But…I can't just get over it, James." She looked at him, sorry that she couldn't 'get over it.' "Once I walk in there and see them, like that, I'll slowly start to forget how it was when we were still a family."

Sirius was right. No matter how hurt he was, or how disappointed…Lily needed him, her best friend. "You have to go in sometime."

She looked unsure. "But then it'll all be real."

He stepped up, now level with her. Beside her. "It is real. And you have to go in there. Can't live on the porch. It's only ten degrees out here, and that coat can't possibly keep you warm til January."

"James," Lily's face was even redder, her white breath getting whiter. "I-I—"

"There you are!" The door flew open, and an attractive woman with red hair to match Lily's and the obvious source of her green eyes stood in the doorway. "We thought we heard voices out here. Lily, my goodness, it's so good to have you home—Just look at you!" Her mother jumped on Lily and hugged her tight, feeling like a warm blanket on Lily's frozen body. Her mother smelled like a mixture of some keen spices and fresh peach cobbler straight from the oven.

"I'm just going to leave you to your family reunion then," James said in the background as he backed away. "See you later, Lil."

Lily was then ushered into the house, and she was thankful the warmth hit her full blast. Having left her bags in the hall, her mother guided her to the living room, where her father sat with a scrawny-as-ever Petunia and a roly-polyVernon.

Later that night. Lily.

Lily opened her window as high as she could and locked it in place. Daringly, she grabbed a bunch of useless trinkets from around her room—a hair clip, stubby pencil, broken makeup sharpener, a few pence, and a marble. She began to throw. She had good aim, too, nearly always hitting his window opposite her dead-center.

Finally, after a couple of the pence, James pulled back his curtain and opened his window.

"About time you took a hint," Lily smiled, feeling quite a bit more comfortable than when James had found her.

"Or a hit. Could have broken the window if I'd let you go on like that," James called back in through the distance, which couldn't have been more than a few yards.

Lily smiled. "Don't be such a ninny. I couldn't have done any real damage."

After a minute of throwing quips back and forth, James asked, "So was it all as scary as you thought it would be?"

"Sort of." Lily went on to say that her parents were perfectly civil towards one another—her father even cracked a few jokes, and her mother had laughed at them whole-heartedly—and though there was a degree of awkwardness that would probably never go away, it wasn't as apocalyptic as Lily feared. Of course, she'd only been here for one afternoon, and there was still loads to discuss and sort out, and Lily was terrified of it all, knowing it would be dreadful, but for today. Today wasn't too bad.

"But I just risked breaking your window," Lily added, "because…I wanted to thank you, for listening to me before. And pushing me. And just…coming out when you saw me instead of walking the other way." It meant more because she knew she didn't deserve him to be so James to her. And he had made it clear he wanted to stay away, so for him to give her words of advice at a time when things absolutely sucked between them meant more to her than anything. "And I wanted…to ask you again…if things could be alright between us. James, I hate us not talking, and having this weird tension around each other and avoiding each other, especially when I want to talk to you, and I don't want to avoid you. And vise versa."

James rumpled his hair on top of his head—it wasn't looking so flat these days and was actually starting to reach its normal height of like, four or five inches high. "I know." His broad shoulders filled up a majority of the window frame's space as he leaned on forearms. James was looking at his hands, fiddling. "I still don't think I can be around you and not…be a bit hurt, sometimes. At least not now. And I don't think you and I can just be 'best buds' and forgive and forget."

Lily's heart sank, and she knew it was a longshot, but she just had to give it a try. It seemed nice, talking to him before on the porch. And now at their bedroom windows, like they used to as children. But she realized when he went on, that James wasn't finished talking. "But I think that…I'd be willing to, I mean…I can handle being at least just Us together. Just Lily and James," he offered. "If that's alright."

Wow, she thought. And a Merry Christmas to me.

At that proposal, Lily was smiling again, like she hadn't in a long while. She realized that day that her parents' splitting was yes, still devastating and sad for her, but on some level she knew it wasn't the end of the world. And she was sort of getting her James back. Yes, today, in the world of Lily Evans, was not a bad day at all. "Yes, James," she said trying to keep the giddiness from her voice, "That's alright."

Dec. 24th, 1977. The Potter Christmas party.

"Well, Lily, you're looking quite spiffy," remarked Amelia, who'd just walked into Lily's room with Linda in toe. They'd all three planned to meet here before going next door to see what all this talk about the Christmas party was about. "So where's this horrible sister you were talking about? I want to meet her."

Lily scoffed. "What the hell for? Anyways, she's not in; out on a date with Vernon. I just hope they don't come home early and try to take advantage of the empty house."

Amelia laughed. "Reminds me, I'm surprised you're going, really, considering you and your ex have been more than strained lately."

Lily, who was a simple green skirt (with ribbon at the waist) and much lighter green cashmere sweater, put on emerald-drop earrings. "We talked, and decided to be—"

"Just friends?"

"Just Lily and James. Whatever that means," Lily put on her red coat, and grabbed a simply wrapped trinket in brown paper and single red ribbon.

Linda nodded approvingly. "Good for you." (A/N Just in case you're wondering, Amelia's and Linda are also just wearing skirts and sweaters—this is a simple party, not a prom. LoL) "Let's get going, shall we?"

-------

They took off their coats and looked around. Where was everybody? There was garden where gatherings were usually held, but that was outside—it couldn't be there. Were they just early…at 9:00?

"Thank God you're here," Remus rushed in from the back of the house. "James had me babysitting his Uncle Lloyd for the past half hour. Hilarious drunk, but I'm afraid the more I hang out with him, the more I smell like gin. Don't you girls look nice?" He swept his hair out of his face and greeted Lily with a kiss on the cheek, Amelia with a hug, a just smiled at Linda. Oh boy, Linda thought, it's gonna be a long night.

He led them out to the veranda that led to the garden, which was magically heated. "All the beauty of winter without that pesky chill," Remus commented. He grimaced. "There's Lloyd again. Is he pouring that flask into the punch? God, I'll see you girls later. Lloyd, not everyone likes to hit the sauce!" he called out.

Lily straightened her sweater and announced that she was going to pay her respects to Mr. and Mrs. Potter.

But she really went to look for James. She found him chatting up some fellows, and seemed to be making them laugh. Lily hesitated to go in the middle of a group of guys—they might see her, she foolishly thought. But turned out she didn't have to at all, since after standing outside of the group for a few seconds, James' attention caught on her, and he excused himself.

As James came over to her, it brought a bit of attention from the young men he'd just been with. She tried not to blush but didn't know if she was succeeding. "Hello," James greeted. "Did Linda and Amelia come with you?" James looked behind her to see.

"Oh sure," Lily was only half-distracted by the one guy—who looked a bit shifty—checking her out from behind James. "I just left them for a moment. Um, could we go inside for a second?"

Minutes later, when they'd secured the living room—at least it was inside, away from the roving eyes of Shifty guy—Lily faced James. "I got you a Christmas gift." Lily fiddled with the brown-wrapped package beneath her arm, and offered it to him. It was long and wide, but fairly thin. "I know we just agreed that we'd try to be…normal again, so I don't expect one back—that's not why I got this. I just…saw it and wanted you to have it."

He smiled secretly to himself, barely a smile but enough of one. Just the slightest curve to his pink lips. James walked away, down the hall, to the coat closet Lily guessed from the angle he turned at, and returned with a package of his own. "I did a bit of Christmas shopping myself." He gave Lily her gift from him. "I'm not going to pretend that everything's just perfectly fine between us, but I think this is a step in the right direction."

They smiled sweetly at each other and Lily opened her box. "James," Lily whispered when she saw what he'd gotten her. A photo album, a beautiful photo album, for all her pictures that she had nowhere to put. And she had loads. She opened the cover and inside was a note from James.

Amemory is what is left when something happens and does not completely unhappen. Thanks for sharing so many memories with me. ...James.

"This is wonderful," Lily couldn't take her eyes from the page. She held it close to her chest. "Open yours."

James tore at the brown paper with its single red ribbon and revealed what she'd gotten him. A dark wood frame, holding a picture inside. He blinked twice before realizing what it was.

It was a picture of him when he was seven years old, sitting in front of presents. It is on Christmas, nearly eleven years ago. A seven year old version of Lily is sitting next to him. The picture was taken just as she leaned over and kissed his seven-year old cheek. By complete accident, they'd been sitting under mistletoe. The colors of the picture were so deep, the memory flashed in his mind as vividly as if it happened yesterday. James remembered his innocent shock at feeling Lily's warmkiss on his cheek. He couldn't help the toothy smile that came to his face now. "This is just perfect, Lily. Thank you." And they then spent some moments musing over their already beloved presents, and that one person who gave it to them.

---

Amelia and Linda sat together at a small table, looking out at the people here tonight (among the crowd, influential people like the Minister of Magic and even the President of Gringott's were here). "Oh my God," Amelia remarked. Linda thought she was going to comment for the fourth time about how her boyfriend wasn't here. But she was wrong. Amelia was looking towards the entrance and that's where he stood. "Reg's here, I can't believe he made it." She had wondered if he was coming at all. "Would you mind if I left you for now?"

Linda shook her head, and told her to take her time. Now, sitting alone, she looked around at everyone. They seemed to be having a marvelous time; the Potters really did throw a lovely party. And she seemed to get caught up in the motions of it all. Guy asking girl to dance. Guy and girl under mistletoe, blushing and avoiding eye contact, with their hands behind their backs. Guy and girl giggling to each other, because everything the other says is witty. Remus taking away Uncle Lloyd's spiked punch, which he insisted wasn't 'spiked' so much as it was 'Irish.' Then she realized she was sitting alone at her little table. How pathetic am I? she thought. She fiddled with the coffee in her hand.

"Is this seat taken?" a hand gestured to Amelia's seat.

"Actually, it's my frien—" She was cut off by almost-black eyes, and struck by the beauty in them.

It was Sirius. Whoa nelly, he was looking like some kind of fine. "No, it's not," Linda corrected very quickly with a dry throat. He smiled at her—this wide lit-up-the-room charming smile. "What are you doing here?" she heard herself ask.

"Didn't I say I'd be here?" he teased.

"Well, yes—but—"

"Was there any doubt?"

"No. A-a little," she grudgingly confessed. "When did you get back?"

"Just left King's Cross about an hour ago." Sirius sat down. "Don't you look smashing?" his gaze roamed over her. As always in moments like this, she thanked God she didn't blush easily. "So, what'd I miss?" Sirius leaned back in his chair as he looked out at the rest of the party, and Linda couldn't help but notice how wonderfully fresh-off-the-train he looked, and also noted his fine eyes and his sultry features.

She shrugged, pushing the thoughts. "Not much. The Minister of Magic and the President of Gringott's nearly came to blows before about who was most successful between them. We all thought they were going to resort to fisticuffs," she mocked, "but alas. No entertainment on that front."

Sirius laughed unexpectedly. "That's too bad," he said smiling. But then that classic mischeif and playfulness returned to his eyes, in true Sirius fashion. "You want entertainment?" He leaned closer, still smiling widely as if about to laugh. "We could go find some mistletoe to stand under—"

It was Linda's turn to laugh outright, and she pushed him away, smiling shyly. "Black, you are absolutely wicked."

He winked. "Sometimes."

---

Still at the party. 11:45pm.

Rose Evans was standing with Mrs. Isabel Potter just a bit aways from their husbands, holding their tea in their hands and discussing their children's acheivements, like most mothers do. "Our Lily has so many options to choose from, and excels in all of them, it's a wonder she'll ever decide what she'll pursue after she graduates."

Isabel Potter nodded her agreement. "Richard and I were just saying the same thing about James. Though we expect he'll probably take up that Quidditch scholarship those scouts keep throwing at him. Do you know how many letters I get…"

Rose Evans shook her head, and quite involuntarily glanced up at her house next door. From here, she could see her window. Her bedroom light was on. She never left her bedroom light on.

Isabel Potter went on, "…but he's just so free-spirited, I don't think he'll ever take up some corporate job like his father or…" Rose unintentionally tuned her out again, and looked towards her bedroom window. Something was drawing her attention to it. Was there someone in there?

"Excuse me, dear," she interrupted her friend. "I'll be right back."

Charles Evans turned from his conversation with Mr. Potter. "Rose, where are you going?"

She grew uncomfortable, and wanted to leave the party right now. "I think I just forgot something next door. Won't be long."

Rose Evans walked quickly through the crowd, and hurried to the veranda door, leading inside. She had hoped to get out without running into anyone else. She hoped in vain.

"Mum?" Lily stopped her. It seemed she'd been sitting nearby with James. "Where are you going?"

She didn't want to lie to her daughter—she didn't even know what she was lying about. It was perfectly reasonable to go to her own home, she rationalized. But… "Just next door for a minute, dear."

Lily smiled. "But Mum, it's a party. Can't you wait until we all go next door together?"

Rose was wasting time. "No, darling, I'll just be two seconds, really."

Her daughter held her hand. "Then I'll come with you if you want."

"No!" she refused to fast. With a breath Rose continued. "No, that's alright, darling. You stay here, with your friends. I'll be right back." Lily gave her a concerned look, probably thinking her mother was acting odd. Rose added reassuringly, with more emphasis on the words, "I will be right back."

And she was out of the Potters', across the lawn, and in her own home before anyone else knew she left. Rose climbed the stairs slowly—Why was she afraid of her own home? She was just a paranoid woman, afraid of her own shadow. But those thoughts didn't calm her nerves as she reached the stairs' landing and walked the long hall to her bedroom door.

She turned the knob and, before she'd even opened the door all the way, heard in a deep menacing voice that chilled her down her spine the words, "Come in."

Rose Evans opened the door wider, knowing who would face her, but hoping against all hope that she was wrong. That this was a really bad dream and that he'd just go away the second she woke up. But it wasn't. He was here, and he came for her.

"Tom," Rose tried to steady her voice, but it just came out a bundle of quivering waves. "W-what are you doing here?"

He was standing at her vanity, holding a picture frame in his right hand. His left hand was pointing to each face in the picture as he seemingly memorized the photo's every line. When he turned to her, with cold fathomless eyes, she saw that the picture he held was a family portrait. Her, Charles, Lily and Petunia. She was sure—if she remembered Tom's jealousy correctly, and she was positive she did—that all he saw in the picture was Rose…standing next to Charles. His Rose, married to another man.

Without even noticing, she heard glass break. Tom had been gripping the picture so tightly, the protective glass cover cracked, the eye of the crack on Charles' head. "Tom," Rose started, reaching for courage. "I don't know why you came. You should leave."

This wasn't the man she'd known since she was a young woman. The man she knew was kinder, and loved her deeply, with all the passion a man like him could give. But he was bitter at times, despising where he came from, despising himself, and soon learned to despise everyone and everything around him because of it. But not her. The man that stood in front of her now was cold, harsh and dangerous. Spiteful and mean…and still wanted her.

But she didn't want him. Not anymore, not for a long time. "You should leave, Tom," she repeated, gathering strength.

His black hair was slicked back, every strand in place. His eyes of ice stilled her in place and bore into her own. Menace filled his voice. "Love me forever, will you, Rose?"

That measley amount of courage she had found was slipping away from her, fast. "Forever isn't what it used to be."

He laughed—a dry, humorless, merciless laugh. "He won't have you. No one will. I'll give you this last chance—"

Rose filled with fear faster than she could've imagined and wanted to bolt. But his eyes kept her in place. "I told you before, Tom, I can't go with you. I won't."

She whispered in her mind Goodbye Charles, Lily and Petunia. Because she knew what was coming. He'd warned her since their last unexpected meeting, and since then she had just been binding her time. Riddle's cold hand caressed her cheek with all the smoothness of needles. "I'm sorry it had to end this way, my dear."

11:58pm.

--- ---

Lily, James, Remus, and Peter were all standing, talking with the Chaser of the Montrose Magpies: Alasdair Maddock. The Maddock.

"So can you tell us," Peter asked eagerly, "about the time you tried to dribble the Quaffle like a basketball, because that was just classic."

Maddock laughed at his own memory. "Right that was when we were playing against the Chudleys…"

James leaned over towards Lily. "Is it just him or do you think all Quidditch players are that happy to talk about themselves?"

They both turned back to Maddock. "Don't forget to remind me to tell you about the time I headbutted the quaffle like those muggle soccer players..."

Lily quietly chuckled. "If you ever play professionals, James,don't end up like that. Hey, I'm going to get a glass of water. Be right back."

"You're going to leave me with this windbag?" James accused. "That's cold, Lil."

She excused herself and went to the kitchen. She opened the cupboard, retrieved a glass, turned on the sink and filled her cup with water. Thirstily, she began to drink its contents. She could feel the cold liquid move down her throat.

Then—right then—Lily felt a familiar sort of pain. Too familiar. She dropped her cup; glass broke into shards across the kitchen floor, water spilling into a pool. Her head began to split into pieces. Her eyes were burning and dry. She crouched over in pain. Oh my God, what the hell is going on? She didn't even know how to react to agony. Somwhere, a clock stroked Midnight.

Lily had never felt a pain quite like this. Bleeding inside out. Like her veins were slowly tearing apart and blood was spilling over her insides, like inward acid on skin. Experiencing it…she didn't know whether to scream, or cry, or tear at her own skin. Mute cries went unheard.

She let out a sharp, dry sob, the only audible sound her shut throat would allow her. It was dark…either her burning eyes were closed, or she was losing her vision.

A chill ran down her spine. Then, right when Lily thought she couldn't take it anymore—no sound. In the throbbing ache, a vaccuum of her mind sucked out all sound. Lily's unheard inner screams were covered by a blanket of silence. And in the back of her mind, in a black void, she heard… a woman peircing scream. A heart-splintering, blood-curdling, throaty scream as if being tortured out of the skin.

Finally, Lily let go. 12:01 AM.

On the morning of Dec. 25th, Rose Vivienne Evans was murdered.


------------------------------Merry Christmas---------------------------

Alasdair Maddock—This is a real quidditch player according to Rowling. See, I done did my research. LoL.

Announcements: I'd like to thank Kaitlyn and Kelly for their help to me whenever I IMed them looking for opinions/ideas. Woot, you rock, and Cheers! to you. And a HUGE shoutout to all of you who wished me luck on my exams—it worked! I passed!

KELLY—I swear, I feel like writing a cameo character named after you just because of how you are so…you. LoL. Kelly/Sirius? You never know, crazier things in fanfiction have happened. And I miss "Lost" too! It's coming on tonight but probly a rerun. Jeez, what happened??? Is Claire gonna be ok??????? We must stay tuned to find out.

SAM—you're awesome too! James can't just 'learn how to grow up,' because he's been hurt deeply by someone he loved and thought loved him back—and worse, it's his best friend. So yeah, double-burn. And thanks for the luck on my exams—musta helped because my final grades were A's in 3 classes and Bs in 2. Time to get drunk! J/k LoL.

KEEKS—Reading and crying in the comp lab? LoL. That's Rufus (forgive me, I just watched Never Been Kissed again, and am re-loving that word). And I don't know why you don't have guy friends like Sirius, but if you see any, don't forget to give them my number, too, eh??? ::Sings 'All by Myself' for the third time today::

BRIGHTON BABY—Aw, you think I have everything planned out? I'm flattered, but Heavens no. I mean, I've got a general outline, but I constantly change my mind and the story is Nothing—with a capital 'N'—like what I thought it would be when I first started writing. So even when I do have something planned, it stands a 50/50 chance of getting changed.

KAITLYN—Damn I love when you review! "I'll fight you for him, bitch!" LooooL! And YES, the Outsiders rules. I read it in 8th grade, and me and my entire all-girla lot of estrogen class were fighting for Soda-Pop. Ah, just a preview of my feelings for another fictional character, Sirius. Oh, And you spelled it favourite. Love it. I'm gonna start being more like you. ::Is Canadian::

VICK—My story made you a sometime nail-biter? Well. Don't that beat all? LoL. And I'm ecstatic that you thought the end of the last chapter was "perfect." Seriously you—and everyone else—totally make my day. To know that you guys actually like what I write. Mindblowing.

PADDY—See, who Sirius will inevitably end up with is ME—I mean! Who he'll end up with is yet to be determined (I know, but the story doesn't. LoL). Just have to keep reading to figure out who he's meant to be with.

PIA—Aw, ramble away. Good for the soul, and the skin. LoL. And gasp! I never want you guys to rip your hair out over my story lines (It'd be a bit odd with only bald readers. LoL). Love ya lots!

KATIE—LoL, at first I thought YOU played in the game, but then you just said you watched. RIGHT ON. I'm a spectator, not a player. At least of sports. I'm an old-fashioned girl, raised to believe girls watched Oprah and shopped, others did the real work. Denmark boys? YIPPEE. I watched Prince & Me, I know how the story ends. ;) And you had a fish named Samwise Gamgee the Brave? I'm at a loss for words—if I ever get a pet, I wanna name it a LOTR name. I hope your Samwise is in a good place now. And hope you got that X-mas laptop!

CPSOCCERGIRL—fics take so much time to write? You're preaching to the choir, baby. LoL. I even think about what I'm gonna write in posts while I'm eating dinner, down to when I'm talking on the phone (so, NOT listening to my friends LoL). But your fic was pretty good, don't just give up!

LAUREL—Oooh! Cookies, AND brownies, AND gingerbread people (wow you spoil me!) AND Spice cake? I never had it before. What's it taste like? :: Takes a bite::

LYR942—Girl. Girl. Girl. Gotta tell ya, LOVED the link. I showed it to nearly everyone. Made it my desktop. Some of my friends are STILL looking at it. Damn…Sirius was hot. Remus, too. ::cries:: I want one.

STEPH—12 reviews in one day? LooL, that just kicked ass. I loved all of them. It was like reading a comic strip minus the pictures. So funny! And to your "who needs this rubbish called precal?" I SO AGREE. I practically bled in that class. Precalthe devil. But stay strong, it'll all be over soon. LoL, good luck!

AMANDA—starbucks' peppermint hot chocolate—Is that any good? I go there all the time—even made good friends with the employees, LoL—but peppermint? Hm. The possibilities. And the song was "How Does it Feel?" by Avril. And dreams of Stanford, eh? Nice. Best of luck getting in, drop a line if you do. Oh, and I have AIM, yahoo and MSN, but mainly use aim. (sn: ahem605)

MISSY—I say James and Lily, too, but I'm getting in the habit of saying Lily and James. Just because…I dunno. Girls rock. There, I have a reason. LoL. GIRL, do you ever go online? I miss my Missy. And that last review for chap 12…I was nearly in TEARS. You are just the sweetest person in the world. ::hugs::

KELLI—Of course L/J weren't being fair to each other during the fight. All's fair in love. And war. Mwaha. LooL. And haha, you twirled in your review—right on! LoL.

KATIE/sn: singing—I think I might remember you—thanks for reading!! I'm so glad you found the story here and are reading now. If we didn't get to talk much before, I hope we can now.

XYZABC90—Page 174 isn't working? Well, I'll get on it, but if you don't want to wait, don't bother pressing that little button at the bottom of the page; just plug in the number in the web address—instead of 173, fix it so that it reads 174. Hope that works! And thanks for reading.

KELLY/Sweety5721—Ah! YOU're reading again! So glad to see you! And alas, no, the HP boards never got fixed to the way it used to be. They have this new stupid way of being. I'll fill you in online (AIM), if you IM me at ahem605. What's your sn? IM me anytime.

LACEY—LoL, Sirius can make even that funny because…well, he's Sirius. And yes! Both Finals and Midterms suck like hell. Finals just a bit worse (more pressure). Best of luck, though!

HOPE YOU ALL HAD A MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAVE FUN ON THE NEW YEAR!