AN: Hey there! Are you reading this? Thank you! Let me know if you like it. This is cold, lonely work.

Lily sat up in bed at the Potters' manor, heavy with a sense of dread and panic, as if something bad had happened and it was all her fault, as if she'd forgotten something and now someone she loved was in crisis over it.

What was it? NEWTs weren't for months. Potter and the lads were back in human form. Mum and Dad were living the life on their Swiss pre-Christmas trip. Petunia was -

PETUNIA.

Thirty hours earlier, Lily hadn't waited until whatever unreasonable hour Petunia must have come with her grouchy new boyfriend to pick her up at Kings Cross. That in itself wasn't the problem. The problem was that she hadn't contacted Petunia since then to let her know she hadn't been kidnapped. For all Petunia knew, she was floating face down in the Thames at this moment. What must she be going through right now, waiting for their parents to get home, no sign of their little Lily, wondering how she was going to break it to them? She might have called the Muggle police already. But at almost eighteen years old, would they even investigate Lily's absence without something suspicious to tip them off?

Throwing on some clothes, Lily bolted down to the kitchen where the lads and the Potter family were well into their morning porridge.

"No worries, Lily dear," Old Effie said at the sight of her crashing through the door. "No need to rush. There's plenty of mush left for your breakfast."

"Erm - oh - thank you, Madam Potter. It's not that - er - James!"

He was already standing, rushing forward to smooth her uncombed hair. "What? What's gone wrong?"

"Where's the town? I need to get to a phone. A Muggle phone box," she said, working to mime a rectangle with her hands. "They're red, and metal, rather like lifts taken out of their shafts and set on the pavement."

"I know them," Sirius said. "There's one in Godric's Hollow for sure, standing right outside that tea shop with the snooty cat."

"Sure, right there," Remus agreed. "But what's the emergency, Lily? Can we help?"

Relieved, Lily fell into a chair at the table. "No, I have to do it myself. I'm so stupid. I forgot to tell my sister where I was going. She has no idea I'm not lost or killed in London. She's got to be mad with worry."

"Yeah, well. She was the one that ditched you. Serves her right," James said, catching Lily's coat with one hand after having summoned it to the kitchen.

Sirius growled. "That's not how it works between siblings, James. You know that. You wouldn't see me throwing Regulus into fits over nothing - not for very long, at any rate."

"Yes, you'd best be off to set your sister straight," Effie said. "Here's a scone with some jam for you to eat on the way, dear. Mind the cat, James. You'll kick him straight across the floor and then your father will kick you."

Monty broke out of his snoring over his coffee to mutter, "Oopsie, Jimsy. There's a nice kitty."

"Sorry, Mum," James said, smacking a kiss against her cheek. "We're off."

"Aren't the others coming too?" she began.

A jumbled chorus of excuses rose up from the lads, about how they weren't finished eating, and had to wash their hair, and fix their shoes, and on and on.

"You've got your apparation license too then? I've never been anywhere called Godric's Hollow," Lily said as they stepped onto the large veranda at the front of the house.

"Right, so we're doing side-along," he said.

Lily stood waiting as James looked her over from head to foot, not sure of the best way to take hold of her for the apparation.

"Oh, come on already, Potter," she said, lunging toward him and holding him around his waist, her eyes level with his collar. "Don't waste any more time."

There was nothing for him to do but clasp his arms around her back. She had ducked her face into his shoulder to ward off the coming dizziness, and somehow it made his hand come up automatically to brace the back of her head, embracing her.

Come on, Potter, he told himself over an increasingly racing heart rate. Remember how it goes: Destination, Determination, Deliberation.

In a twisting rush they were standing in a street in a picturesque village crowded with Christmas shoppers. A brass band was playing carols somewhere nearby, and the air smelled of cut fir boughs and candle wax.

Lily pushed free of James's hold, scanning the area for the phone box. There it was, exactly as Sirius had described. She rushed toward it with James barely close enough to shut himself inside with her.

She grunted as the door slammed closed, crushing into the wall opposite the phone itself. "Potter, it's meant for one person."

"What? Oh, sorry. I thought it'd be bigger on the inside. I'll just - oh dear - "

"By the stars, Potter - "

"I can't get past you to open the door, unless you let me - "

"I don't have time for - "

"Sorry. Make your call and ignore me. I'll wriggle out once you're connected."

"Yes, but I can't even reach the number pad around your enormous head."

"Just tell me the numbers and I'll push them."

She snarled. "Fine, but you need to pass me the receiver first. The handle. No, the - the grey talkie bit on the end of the cord."

She caught the receiver as he dropped it over his shoulder. They got the numbers right on the first try. Off in Cokeworth, Petunia snatched up the house telephone on the first ring.

"Petty? Petty, it's me."

James could hear nothing but a high roar of indistinct chatter coming from the plastic cup Lily held against her ear.

She spoke over it. "No - no, I'm. Yes, I'm sorry. I waited at the station for ages and then went home with some friends."

She raised her finger to bite at her nail as another barrage came through the phone.

"Yes - yes, I'm sorry. You're right. I should have called that night. I didn't mean to wait so long. It's all my fault. I did wrong, Petunia."

Lily was quiet for what seemed like a long time. James felt her forehead brush against the back of his coat as she nodded along with the conversation, though Petunia couldn't see her.

"No, that's not it at all. I honestly just forgot. I was being stupid, not - . No, of course not. I would never want you to feel that way."

There was silence again, until at his back, James heard Lily sniff. "I'm so sorry, Petty. Please - "

She was crying. The realization stabbed at James's heart. Lily was crying while he stood and did nothing but be in the way. He reached behind himself and found her free hand, the one not holding the phone. He took it in his, curving it around his waist to hold it in both of his hands, hoping it reassured her that she wasn't bad, and she deserved love, no matter what she'd done, or forgotten to do.

Maybe Lily didn't understand all of what he meant, but she let herself slump against him as she listened to her sister describe how terrified and guilty she'd felt during those hours when she didn't know what had become of Lily. Petunia was crying too, loud and angry. She'd blamed herself for losing Lily, her worst big-sister nightmare made real.

"Tomorrow. Christmas Eve," Lily said at last, still sniffing. "Yes, when Mum and Dad get back. I'll be there then. Yes, they're no one you know. In the West Country. Freaks, yeah. All of them. All of us."

Her hand was shaking now, and James tightened his grip on it.

"Alright. Yes. And again, I'm sorry - No - Petty, I love you."

James heard a low, mechanical tone as the call went dead. He crushed the phone - numbers sounding their tones, a recorded operator's voice explaining that he hadn't keyed his call correctly - as he turned himself against it, coming around to face Lily. She dropped the receiver and it bobbed against James's knee. He let it hang, crushing her against his chest, hushing her as her tears overtook her. She sobbed into the front of his coat, muffled by the wool and his body.

"She was so worried," she hiccoughed.

"Of course she was, thinking she'd lost a sister like you," James said, speaking into the crown of her head.

She scoffed through her tears. "She was afraid of telling our parents. She doesn't care much about me."

"If she doesn't, then she's a fool," James said. "You made things right as soon as you could. You're not perfect, but you're not bad."

"No, I'm self-centred and," she looked up at his face, "easily distracted."

It would have been elegant if he could have used his thumb to wipe a single, crystalline tear descending gracefully across a smooth white cheek, etching a gentle arc from one of her eyes. But Lily was a true redhead. Her face was a splotchy mess - an adorable catastrophe. James hummed a laugh and used both of his palms to wipe her wet, red cheeks. He left his hands braced against her jaws as he finished. "Easily distracted? It wasn't easy to distract you. Not in the least. I transfigured myself into a stag, for stars' sake."

She actually laughed, blinking back the rest of her tears, letting him continue to cradle her face in his hands. One corner of his smile twitched. He sighed as he let go of her face to wrap his arms around her shoulders again, pulling her close and dropping a kiss on the part of her hair, the first time he'd ever touched her with his mouth. It could be the last time too, for all he knew. But something about it came so naturally he had already done it before he thought to stop.

They both jumped when a noisy rapping rattled the phone box.

"Someone needs to use this," Lily said, leaning away from him.

"Well, they needn't be so rude about it."

"Come on. They think we're in here snogging."

James huffed. "And what if we were? It's not like that's not important."

"Just - we're going now, Potter."

Back in the street, Lily stretched her arms, as if she'd just set down something very heavy. She was feeling better, but her complexion still hadn't recovered from the crying.

James frowned. "Let's get you a cup of tea before we go back to the manor. Mum is liable to suspect it was me, naughty Jimsy, that upset you, and keep me grounded in my room for the rest of the day just to be sure. No, I'm not taking you back looking anything less than content as a cat."

She went along with it, following him across the pavement to the tea shop Sirius had said would be there. He was right about the cat being unfriendly. It blinked down lazily at them from atop a high bookcase.

"I saw you eyeing that cat. Did we get to you?" James asked once they were settled at the table nested into a window seat with their tea. "Did you spend all night wondering what animal your animagus form would take? Hoping it was something feline?"

"No, actually," she said. "I admire all of you immensely for putting in the work to do it yourselves, but turning into an animal doesn't interest me as a personal goal. I wonder why not."

James raised both his eyebrows, slightly stunned at the idea of someone smart enough and gifted enough to become an animagus not immediately setting about doing it. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Maybe it's the animal thing," she said. "I've never had much of an interest in magical creatures, let alone becoming one myself."

"What about a Patronus?" James pressed. "You must be able to conjure one. Doesn't it have a corporeal, animal form?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. To tell you the truth, I've never tried to conjure one."

James fell back in his seat as if struck by a spell. "Why ever not?"

"It's just another area of magic I've never been that interested in. Defense Against the Dark Arts - it's not a real discipline, is it? More like just a collection of charms and transformations with a similar purpose," she said. "Now potions - that is a discipline. Good for turning back dark arts too."

James groaned. "Spoken like Slughorn's golden girl."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't be jealous, Potter."

"So, what else are you interested in? Arithmancy?" James shuddered at the word as he said it.

"I thought you did well in Arithmancy?" she said.

"Yes, I do fine. But that doesn't mean I don't hate it."

Lily nodded. "I only like Arithmancy inasmuch as it's a kind of Divination. Same with Astronomy. They're specialties of my true favourite discipline."

"Which is divination? Really," James said, in a drawling, sceptical kind of way. "What have you managed to divine so far?"

"No major prophecies yet," Lily answered. "But I am a spectacular interpreter of dreams."

"What about tea leaves?" he asked, handing her his empty cup.

"These are in a bag, James."

"Right."

She set down the cup with a clang. "I can't read a squashed mess in a soggy bag. No one can. You've never even tried divination, have you?"

"I prefer to live in the now," he smirked.

"Well, there's an entire wing of the Department of Mysteries full to the ceiling with shelf upon shelf of prophecies stored in glass orbs. We visited on a field trip this year. Our society has a lot invested in divination. There's got to be something to it," she said.

"Here, I'll tell you what." James sidled closer to her, crowding her corner of the window seat. "I'll give divination a chance if you agree to try some new magic for me."

She blinked. "I refuse to turn myself into a cat for Sirius to chase around. Remus already warned me about reduced impulse control while in animal form."

"A cat?" James said, taken aback. "No, Peter would hate that. All I want," he resumed, "is for you to conjure a Patronus. It's not just out of idle curiosity either. The way things are going, with the Death Eaters acting up, you may wind up needing one someday. I'd feel much better if you didn't have to conjure one for the first time with a Dementor breathing down your throat."

She patted his hand where it lay on the tablecloth. "There, there, Potter. I'll let you teach me Patronuses. Maybe there's still hope for a cat for Sirius there. Now what will you learn from me?"

"Let's do the tea leaves after all," he said, raising a finger to trace a vine painted on her teacup. "Are yours in a bag?"

She faced him with a broad, genuine smile that made his cheeks colour slightly. "What a nice idea. No, mine is exactly the right kind of tea. Let's have a look."

James happily inched further into her space. Their heads close together as Lily took up her cup. "This is tasseography," she said. "I take my cup in my left hand, swirl it - "

"Counter-clockwise?"

"Of course. Then we flip it over on the saucer. Wait."

"How long?"

"Just enough. Like so. And then we turn it upright, always moving from the right-hand side."

"Isn't that what upright means?"

"Don't be smart, Potter." She tossed her head and said, "Now, the key is not to overthink. For me, this is the hardest part of tasseography. Try to trust the impressions that come to you quickly, naturally as you read. Ready?"

She turned the cup over.

James hummed, as if thinking hard.

"The rim of the cup tells the present," she said. "The middle is the near future, and the bottom is the distant future."

"There's nothing on the bottom of yours though," he said, squinting into the cup. "Dying young, are you Evans?"

She gave an exasperated sigh. "Be serious, Potter. It means there was still too much liquid in the bottom of my cup when I turned it upside down. I should have known better. This reading is wasted."

"Now wait a moment," James said, holding back her hand as she moved to set the cup aside. "Right here by the rim, that's a heart. I may be just a beginning tasseographer, but even I know what a heart is meant to symbolize - "

"Don't, Potter - "

"Evans, you're in love." He said it far too loudly, most of the shop full of older Muggles turning to look at them, as they sat framed by the sunlight coming through the window, shining like the memories the Muggles themselves had of when they were part of the magic of being young and wondering about love.

Lily snatched the cup from him. "That is not a heart. It's a triangle. It means unexpected good fortune."

"It is a heart," James insisted. "And even if it was a triangle, that doesn't rule out the unexpected, good fortune of finally realizing you're in love."

She set the cup upside down in the saucer. It clattered loudly enough for everyone to turn and look at them again.

James sat back, folded his hands in his lap, and watched himself threading and rethreading his fingers. "Alright, I'm sorry," he said. "I have no idea how to read tea leaves, obviously. I mean, I hope not. If I do, then you have no distant future and that's too awful. I wouldn't choose you being in love right now over you getting to live out a long, proper life later on."

She smirked and leaned closer, still joking. "Well then I'm not the girl for James Potter, the boy who risked becoming an unregistered you-know-what just to ease the suffering of a good friend. No, James, the girl who gets you in the end will definitely be someone you'd love in spite of death."

He looked up from his hands. "Maybe that's it, Lily. Maybe no matter who we are, or how noble or brave we are to begin with, maybe all anyone can do is love in spite of death. Look at my parents. They've lived a good long life together, a charmed life. And every morning when my mum turns over in bed, she knows she may very well find my dad dead. Not because life is particularly tragic, but just because that's what life is."

She looked at him as long as she could bear it, until she felt like it was showing in her face - the tenderness she felt for him when he spoke this way about the love in his family, between his parents, the love he would bring forward with him into the family he would make for himself. Why did it warm her like this?

Ridiculous, she thought to herself. Ridiculous at seventeen for the pair of them to be talking about death and eternal love as if either of those things had anything to do with them.

"Well," she said, clearing her throat, "you still owe me a proper reading. We'll come back to it another time."

"Right," James agreed, pulling what looked alarmingly like a broken shard of glass out of his pocket. "For now, we'd best head back to the manor. Sirius has been signalling me for a good half hour." He looked into the glass. "Oh no. Mum is making them help her with a hundred Christmas cards she needs to get out by tonight."

Lily laughed. "What good boys. How bad can that be?"

"Have you ever seen a howler?" he asked. "Wizard Christmas cards are a lot like them, only they belt out Christmas cheer instead of threats. Equally messy to send. Almost equally unpleasant to receive."

"Fine," she said. "Let's go rescue the boys."

"And after we've finished with that," James smirked. "We'll be happy to show you our next secret."