The villagers of Godric's Hollow were well-used to oddly dressed members of the community — and right they were to be, as more than half of them were witches and wizards. So when two tall, rather good-looking men appeared to leap out from behind the church (for where else could they have been hiding?), none of the passers-by, except for old Mrs. Halloway, who had always had a thing for tall young men, batted an eyelash. The taller of the two, with his messy black hair and glasses, might have been slightly less handsome than the other, but there was a playfulness that drew the eye. It was this that had Mrs. Halloway stop, cat in arms, and stare.
"Morning," said the messy-haired one, tipping her a wink. Mrs. Halloway jolted, then tossed him a wave.
"Think she saw us Apparate behind the church?" said the other one, out the corner of his mouth.
"Nah," said James. "C'mon, I want to show it to you." Together, the two wizards hurried across the street of cobbled stone, and up a side street marked with cottages. They were spacious things on large parcels of land — the gardens were lovely — and there were several that showed signs of magical intervention: a potted dirigible plum here, multi-colored smoke rising from a chimney there. James breathed in the crisp morning air, beaming. "It's a little off the way... here... you're going to love it..."
"Why so nervous, mate?" Sirius asked, lips twitching.
"Ha," said James. And then, there it was. There was a tall hedge around it and a little gate. The hedge was more than a little unruly, but he was confident it would remind Lily of his hair, and it would make her laugh. The roof was thatched, and both the regular Muggle ivy and the magical variety that had little bits of flames running up and down the vines. The deed to this place was in his pocket — it was his wedding present to Lily, and he would give it to her in three days time, when they were wed.
Sirius cut him a look. "Are you certain it's..."
"Safe?" asked James. With the war going on, and Voldemort's power growing unabated, it was a fair question. A part of him wanted to choose a place far away from any village. But it simply wouldn't do. "It's safe as it could be... I think I'll ask Mad-Eye or maybe even Dumbledore if they have any suggestions for protective enchantments."
"Wise of you," said Sirius. Then, shoving him lightly in the shoulder, added: "When did that happen?"
James laughed. But when he set his hand on the gate, ready to usher his best mate in and show off his new home, a memory struck him with such force that he felt it tingle from black, decorative metal to fingertips, up his arm, and made him suck in his breath at the feel of it, humor gone, warmed into something else. There was another gate, nearly a year ago and far to the north. James saw it as clearly as though he tumbled into a Pensieve.
Hogsmeade beckoned.
James bounced on the balls of his feet, wishing Peter would hurry his arse. It was the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year, and he wanted to be there. Not here, waiting at the gate for Peter.
"Easy, mate," said Sirius. The crowd jostled him, and he shoved into Remus. "He'll get here when he gets here."
"I've got to—"
"—learn some patience," said Remus, swiping his dirty blonde hair off his forehead. There was a livid scar bisecting his eye, pulling it upward. "He said he had to finish off a letter to his mum."
James suppressed a groan.
But just then — just when he had had enough waiting — just when he was about to surge through the gates with the rest of the Hogwarts students and flee toward Hogsmeade — the crowd parted and there she was. Lily's dark red hair deepened in the wan sunlight. James forgot Peter. It really was a distinctive color; there was hardly anything like it. It was short enough it just barely brushed her shoulders and had a flippy little curl at the ends that he suspected she managed with a charm.
Charm or not, it was perfect.
James was distracted enough that it took a moment to recognize she was paler than usual and there were dark streaks under her eyes. She and two of her friends stood huddled up against the other side of the gate, and — to his shock — Lily turned and began to walk away from the coursing crowd, away from Hogsmeade, and toward the path that would — eventually — take her to the lake.
"Right," said James. His hand fell away from the cold metal of the gate. "Have fun in Hogsmeade. If Peter ever shows up, that is."
Then, without waiting for comments from his friends, he shoved through the crowd. James was still excited; his excitement simply had a different focus. There was a warmth in his belly that had not been there before he'd seen her, and it was this he focused on as he maneuvered his way through. It took some time; he was fighting his way through the crowd, but at long last he was clear. The dark red of her hair was a pleasant beacon.
He caught up to her by the time the swell of voices receded into the background. "It's me," he called when he saw her shoulders stiffen. Her reflexes were not to be underestimated.
She whirled around, surprise writ on her fine features. "Potter?"
"Evans," he said.
Her hands went to her hips. "Don't you have tricks to plan down at Hogsmeade?" she asked.
James had actually been planning to pick up a couple of books and transfiguration supplies, but his smile widened at her words. "I like to make sure Filch still feels relevant," he said. "Give him something to do."
"How altruistic," she said. There was a bit of a wobble in her voice, and her generous mouth trembled.
"Let's walk, Evans," he said.
A month ago, she might have argued. But ever since they had become Head Boy and Girl, there had been a distinct softening between them. Six months ago? Lily Evans would never have let him see that wobble at all. Hell, in third year, her father had died and he had never seen a tear on her face. But here she was, clearly upset, shoulders hunched... but stepping closer to him.
"I thought you'd be with Sirius and Remus and Peter today," she said.
"Nah," he said. As they stepped forward together, he rested his hand on the small of her back — something else she wouldn't have permitted a month ago. He kept it there as they walked, and he did not think he imagined it when she drew closer to him. They walked on, up, and through a thicket of trees. "So what's going on, Evans?"
"We're leaving Hogwarts this year!" she burst out at nearly the same instant.
The texture of the air changed. They were near the water, now. Damp, clean-smelling air filled his lungs when he breathed in. "You don't want to leave?" he asked. They were at the edge of the trees at the very top of the long, sloping bank. The waters had a silvery glint to them that rippled out toward the center.
"James."
Lily took his hand and his attention jerked back toward her.
"I don't know exactly what I'm going to do," she said. Her eyes were wide and there was a whiteness around her lips.
"Easy," he said, "you'll do anything you want. You don't need me to tell you you're one of the most talented witches our year."
And really, she was. Even Horace Slughorn, who James's dad always said was far more interested in bloodline than he liked, recognized it. For a Muggleborn, she was—
Ah. It struck him then that this had nothing to do with talent.
"There was another attack yesterday," she said, squeezing his fingers. Her hand was warm in his. "I didn't know them. It was just... more deaths. More Muggleborns being killed."
James twined his fingers with hers. He took a moment to enjoy the feel of her small hand in his. Her skin was so soft and smooth. Awareness slid in her eyes. This was as close as they had ever been to one another, and James knew she felt it too. But now was not the time. "I am sorry," he said. It was the first thing that came to his mind to say.
"For what?" she said bitterly. Her red hair swung. "You didn't do anything."
"No," agreed James. The skin on her fingers were just as soft, except for the calluses from her wand. He rubbed his thumb over one of these spots. "I just wish the wizarding world were better. I wish you'd come into Hogwarts and not have to deal with any of that utter rot." This he said with as much disdain as he could manage. "I wish people were better — I wish they were as good-hearted as — as you, so none of this had to touch you."
Her eyes widened, and the look she gave him could only be described as thunderstruck.
"I... that may be," she said, throat working. "I just... don't know what I want to do after Hogwarts. Go back and live as a Muggle and hope I can avoid the darkness ahead?" His heart squeezed at the thought of losing her to crowded streets and anonymous Muggles. "Go bury myself in the country?"
"You don't see a happy medium?" he asked.
"Do you see one?" she retorted, but with little of her usual sass.
James squinted at her. "I can't see from your eyes, Evans," he said. He tipped his head, and adjusted his glasses. "I can barely see from my own. But I'm not a Muggle, nor a Muggleborn. I can't tell you what you see. Our world is a shit place for Muggleborns right now, and it isn't fair."
"It isn't," she said. "I don't want to lose what I am. I'm a witch."
"And a damn good one," he said, "better than any of the Death Tossers."
A small laugh passed her lips and James had never wanted to kiss her more. And that was saying a lot.
"I don't want to lose my heritage, too," said Lily. "You remember Thomas? Three years ahead of us? Marlene says he saying he's half-blood now... she says he's even got in with the Johnsons, getting them to say he's their cousin."
"I don't blame him," said James.
"I just... I don't want to do that. I want to have both," she said. The hand not holding his came up to dash away an unwelcome tear. "I want to work and be a witch and still go home and visit Mum and Petunia..."
They both looked out over the lake. James led her a bit down. They were holding hands properly now, giving each other little sidelong glances as they did so; James did not want to curse this new closeness by mentioning it. "I think you'll find a way," he said, as he helped her up and over a driftwood log. They sat upon it; Lily started a little fire with her wand, setting it low to the ground. James could not believe just an hour ago, he'd wanted to go to Hogsmeade with Sirius and the others.
"You meant what you said, didn't you?"
"Generally," said James.
A smile flickered over her face. There was a lightening of her eyes; the shadows in them lifted, revealing brilliant green.
"If anyone can find a way to do it, it's you," he said. And it was true.
There was an impulse to tell her that he would help. He'd do what he could to make sure she could have both. But Lily surprised him by cupping his jaw, stretching slightly up, and kissing him. All thoughts of anything but the feel of her lips on his flew out of his mind. How could he put sentences together? It was all he could do to kiss her back...
James stepped away from the gate and cast Sirius a rueful look. The memory of his first kiss with Lily and the circumstances behind it had caught hold of him, and he suddenly did not want to do this. "Sorry, mate," he said. "But I've decided I want Lily to see the house first."
Sirius's mouth slowly fell open. "You got me up at the crack of dawn—"
"—it was eleven in the morning!"
"—drag me here and then say, oh, sorry, no! I've decided not to show you!"
"It should be Lily first," James said, stubborn.
Sirius gave him a long look, eyebrow raised. But James had known him since he was eleven years old, and was immune to any sort of supercilious Black attitude. It had been, he realized, a bad decision on his part. "You think she'd mind?" Sirius asked. "My guess is she'll take a look at this place and won't care if anyone saw it before she did. Your secret is safe."
"It's... not that," said James. "It's just..."
"Something a besotted fool would do?"
James laughed at that. He couldn't deny the truth, could he? "Let me buy you a pint at the Leaky," James offered.
Sirius's face relaxed into a grin. "Three days before your wedding? Are you sure that's allowed?"
James steered Sirius away from the house, and allowed some good-natured abuse from his best man. It was a bit silly of him, but he wanted, suddenly, for Lily to be the first to see where they would spend their life together, where they would be married to one another and possibly even become parents together. No, it was Lily, not Sirius, who he wanted to be first to see the inside of the cottage in Godric's Hollow.
Their home.
Three days later, it was Lily who Apparated with him to the tiny, out of the way corner of Godric's Hollow. Mrs. Halloway, who happened to be there yet again, sighed when she saw the handsome couple in their wedding finery — the bride wore a gown that made her look luminous, and her husband — the handsome one with the messy hair — held her so carefully.
"—if you do hate it, we can sell it," said James. He was anxious, suddenly, not wanting Lily — his wife! — to hate the home he had purchased for them.
"I'm sure I won't hate it, but James that was — was rather extravagant of you, wasn't it?" Lily laughed. She'd been laughing all night, and James had never been happier.
He took her hand and strode down the street. Her hand was cool and soft in his and they both were laughing as she tried to keep up. Lily was a tall woman, but his legs were longer... it seemed to take no time at all, but then they were standing in front of the new cottage, just outside the gate.
"Well?" he asked, casting her a look, and flicking his hair out of his eyes. "I thought you might like it... your mum and your sister can drive here in their Muggle car... most of our neighbors are our kind, but there are a few Muggle couples down the street..."
Her eyes were roving over every inch of the cottage; they were bright... shining, even. Had James told his bride how lovely she was?
"Oh, James... it's beautiful."
James blinked. "You're certain?"
"I love it," she said. Her fingers were on the latch now, opening the gate. "It's perfect! I love it. I love you."
James caught her hand and pulled her toward him. His hands cradled her face and he searched her eyes for any hint of doubt or annoyance. But the green was unshadowed and brimming with happiness. In her eyes, he saw reflected back to him everything he felt for her. His lips brushed hers for the countless time today. It felt like the first. He sighed against her mouth and kissed her deeper, not caring they were in full view of the neighbors.
When they pulled apart, their breathing was ragged.
Lily gripped his wrist. "We should go inside," she said.
For a moment, the outside world intruded. He glanced down the dark, empty street, then back at his bride. "You're right," he said. And then, he flipped her up and into his arms while she squawked and then laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck.
James crossed the yard with her, whirling about in a full circle once, halfway across, feeling rather lighter than he ever had. Steady happiness pulsed through his entire body; it was a heady feeling, this, being Lily's husband. They were family now. When they got to the door, James kissed her again. He was still kissing her when he walked them across the threshold and into the entryway of their new home. The lamps kindled as they entered; the small charms he'd placed held true — not that he had doubted.
"No furnishings?" Lily asked, as he set her down.
"Very little," he said. "I wanted you to help with that."
She gave him a sidelong smile. "I'd like that."
And James wanted to see her choice of decorations and ornaments filling their new home. "There is one room I've got mostly set up, but—"
"The bedroom?" Lily asked with a knowing little smirk that sent a jolt of heat straight to his groin.
"No," said James, who suddenly wanted to take her up the stairs. "I mean, yes, we do have a bed—"
"—which I have heard is very important to a wedding night," said Lily. Her smirk widened and she set her hand on his hip.
Blood rushed downward. James blinked rather rapidly. "Just let me show you this one thing, and then we can go inspect whether you approve of the bed or not..."
Her hand drifted closer to his erection, then gave it a tweak. "I'd rather perform a more personal inspection," she told him.
Sometimes it still shocked him that Lily Evans, the love of his life, not only consented to touch him, but did so with a great deal of enthusiasm. His insides did a pleasurable squirm and he hardened further. "It's a good thing the photographer isn't following us around anymore," he said, gesturing at his waist.
"Yes, those are mine," said Lily.
They were hers. But James pulled himself away and tugged at her hand, leading her down the hall, past the empty dining room, and into the kitchen. This, too, was nearly empty, but the little breakfast nook beyond was not. The lamps kindled as he led her to it. No ordinary spot, this. James had enlarged the space, added shelves, and copied everything his own father had in his private potions room — separate from the larger one he had at his office — down to the various cauldrons.
"James!" Lily said. Her mouth fell open. "You did this?"
"I knew you'd want a spot to work," he said, lifting his shoulder in a shrug.
Her eyes met his. They were blurred with emotion, easily read because James felt it, too.
James lingered in the potions classroom, watching Lily work, dark red hair damp with sweat. Her lips moved as she stirred the cauldron clockwise, then counterclockwise. Perfectly diced tail of newt floated in the air around her. Precisely every thirty seconds, one would drop into the potion and it would emit a loud, satisfied belch when she did.
"I can feel you staring at me," said Lily.
"Can't help it," said James.
He slipped into the seat across from her.
She looked up, frowning a little. "Did you spill amortentia on yourself?"
"No?" said James, bewildered.
"I thought I smelled—"
But she cut herself off and turned a shade of red that was nearly dark as her hair. James blinked at her, before his thoughts caught up to what was happening. Warmth spread through him and he settled into his chair, a smile widening across his face.
"Don't," she said warningly. "I walked by an open bottle today—"
"And smelled me, clearly," he said. His smile had got so big it hurt his cheeks. Lily loved him. They'd been dating about a month, but they'd never really had this discussion. Not yet.
"Maybe I just like your aftershave," she retorted. Her head ducked down and she gave her potion a stir. No longer belching like a happy potion, it gave a little whine. Lily smacked it a spoon.
"Lily," he said quietly, "I love you, you know."
She dropped the spoon in her potion, which let out a high-pitched scream, and looked straight at him. The potions dungeon fell away. There was only Lily, looking at him, green eyes wide. James loved her eyes, how expressive they were, how he was starting to get better at guessing at the thoughts behind them. At the moment, she was bewildered...
Finally, she sighed, and her lips tilted upward into a smile. "I love you, too."
They clasped hands across the table, each reaching for the other at almost the same time. Her hands were smooth and dry and small in his. Their fingers linked. There was a pulse between them — an awareness — that he hadn't felt before, not even in the last month, which had unfolded like a dream. That kiss at the lake had led them here — to this — to Lily telling him she loved him. He had never before noticed how romantic a dungeon could be... and yet, James wished he was on the roof of Hogwarts, shouting that yes, Lily Evans loved him.
He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, never once taking his eyes from hers. He could look at her forever...
And now she was his.
"Have I mentioned today that I love you?" James asked, voice raspy.
"You did — once or twice — and promised to do so in front of friends and family," said Lily. "James... this is wonderful."
Her wedding gown was soft and spilled out after her in a long, lacy train. She twitched it aside and examined the ingredients he'd gathered for her on the shelves while he examined her. She'd let her hair grow out a bit, and it spilled down her back. She was so slender, Lily; her curves were subtle and beautiful. He admired them as she muttered under her breath. It had been three days since they'd had sex; weddings were incredibly stressful. His erection swelled again as he watched her.
"James! You've even got thestral scales!"
"That was a gift from my dad," James said.
She looked back at him, beaming. The lamplight played on her creamy skin; her lips were very red. Her hand went to his chest. His came up to clasp hers. James couldn't look away, nor did he want to — he could look at Lily forever.
"This is perfect," she said, softly. "But James... will you show me the bedroom now?"
"Gladly," he said with great fervor.
Their surroundings blurred as he led her away from her potions nook, through the kitchen, and up the stairs. They were a bit rickety and creaked under their footsteps. Eager anticipation settled somewhere low in his belly, just above his erection, which was pulsing now. Sex with Lily had always been wonderful, but now it was going to be sex with his wife.
He glanced at her. She was biting her lip.
"Ready?" he asked, when they were just outside the door.
"I'm ready."
James opened the door and gestured her through it. As she passed him, mouth widening with surprise, James thought of the night that stretched ahead of them, the pleasure they would give each other, and couldn't help but think of the first time in the cramped dorm he'd shared with the other Marauders...
It hadn't been planned. Not exactly. James smuggled her up to his dorm room during a two hour stretch when they had a free period and the other Marauders did not. He slipped the invisibility cloak over her head, tucked her against his side, and then pulled her into his dorm, shut the door, and cast enough protective enchantments that there was no chance of interruption.
But he would have been happy if all this led to simply snogging on his bed — with a bit of the light touching they'd begun to do.
It was Lily, however, who tugged his robes off and his shirt up and over his head. She kissed his as she had never kissed him before — hot, heated kisses that made his head spin.
"Is this all right?" James asked, hoarse. His hand cupped her breast. Her nipple was under his palm, poking into it.
"Yes," Lily said. And her fingers went to her buttons.
In what seemed like no time at all — and to James's surprise and delight — they were tumbling over each other, naked. James drew back to look at her, once she'd wriggled out of her knickers, and nearly came undone at the sight of her, Lily, dark red hair spread out in his pillow, long, slim body revealed to him for the first time. Her pale breasts curved outward and were peaked with honey-red nipples. Her waist dipped in, just as pale. James's eyes lingered on her small belly button for a moment, before they drifted downward. The hair between her thighs was even a darker red than that on her head. His fingers brushed through it.
Then he looked up at her. "Will you show me?" he asked, swallowing. "I don't really know... I don't exactly know what I'm doing."
Lily opened her thighs a little wider, and over the next little while James learned a gentle rhythm that made a flush spread over that creamy skin and her green eyes grow wild. Her body moved under his fingers, and James ignored the heat of his own arousal, so focused was he on hers, wanting to learn the pattern of her pleasure — there was a rhythm to it. So James ignored the ache...
...until he made her come and she pulled him down on top of her, hands on his face, and she kissed him in such a way that all his thoughts went downward, to where he ached for her. He was pressed full on top of her, now, her warm body tucked under his. It was half an accident, really. He was close enough to her he could feel her heat on his aching flesh.
"James..." she breathed. "Do you want to?"
"Want to — yes!"
That was the limit of their discussion of whether they wanted to have sex with each other — right then. The answer was yes. James scrabbled for his wand and cast the charm his father had taught him not long ago.
He was gentle as he could be, sliding into her, watching the thoughts flicker on her face, ready to stop the moment he saw pain or doubt. But he never did, not even when he was full inside her, his hair tangling with hers, his body surrounded by her wet heat. Her hands roved his back; each touch was reassurance that she wanted this, she wanted him like this.
It wasn't until after, when pleasure had near made him lose his head, and he cuddled her, that he had a moment of regret. "I'm sorry, Lily," he said.
"Sorry? For what?"
He pulled a face. "Well... it wasn't very romantic, was it?" he said. "There should have been... you know... flowers."
Her fingers circled his navel. "Flowers and silk sheets and little cherubs shooting arrows? I didn't need all that, James."
He looked at her. "Are you certain?"
She smiled at him. It was a soft, bleary sort of smile. Six months ago, James didn't think he could stand a chance to make her smile like that. Something twisted in his chest. "Merlin, Lily, I love you," he swore. He was still sorry he hadn't done the thing properly... but he would make it up to her. Eventually. Perhaps after they had a small nap...
"James," said Lily, startling him out of his reverie. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was open.
Smug pride swelled up inside him.
"Did you steal your old bed from Hogwarts?"
"I only borrowed it," said James. A grin tugged at his lips.
He had, he realized with some satisfaction, outdone himself. While their first time had been a spontaneous thing, their wedding night was not. His old four-poster bed had been smuggled away from Hogwarts, but he had not used the same bedding. No. Lily had mentioned silk sheets, and that was what he used... silk sheets that held the scent of roses. Not that they particularly needed that — there were rose petals strewn all about the room, swirling in an enchanted breeze.
"The only thing missing is a cherub," said James.
She looked at him. "We don't need one," she said softly.
James wanted to take her into his arms and kiss her until they were both dizzy. Instead, he began the process of slowly undressing. His cuff links came off first; they'd been in his family a long time, so he took care with them, setting them snug inside the velvet box he pulled from his pocket. Then he pulled off his robes and hung them in the closet.
Then, when he was naked and she was not, James helped divest her of her wedding gown — he'd seen it for the first time as she walked down the aisle toward him, and he took care with it, gently undoing the pearl buttons with fingers that shook only a little. The creamy skin of her back was revealed inch by inch. He pressed kisses along her spine.
James was not in any hurry. Their whole lives stretched out before them, bright as a dream.
When her dress was hung beside his robes, and they were once more on top of his old bed — the site of many a sexy moment between them — James kissed her until she was shaking in his arms. He no longer needed her help to learn the rhythm of her arousal and pleasure. He knew it. And he tasted it that night, tasting her until she pulled at his hair and ordered him about.
"Now, James," she said. "Please!"
Their gazes locked as he entered her in a slow glide. Her green eyes were hot and bright. No shadows dimmed them. Her hand came up to cup his cheek as he began to thrust. The scent of roses and Lily lingered as he moved within her, driving them both to the heights. Lily writhed beneath him, and made soft sounds of delight that burned through his focus.
"My wife," he said.
Her hand came up to press against his wildly beating heart. "Mine," she said, possessive.
Long after, when they were nearly recovered, James tucked her against his body and pulled the white blanket over them. "That was a most excellent start to our marriage," he said.
"The beginning of the rest of our lives," said Lily. She murmured it against his chest.
His hand was in her soft hair, stroking it. His heart seemed to wobble, and his eyes half-closed. It still was slightly unbelievable to him, in the best possible way, that they were married. But they were, and the delight of it suffused his limbs.
Later, much later, when rosy dawn spread its fingers in the east, James showed Lily the rest of the house. He wore only pajama bottoms and she wore only a blanket. It was white as the gown she had worn yesterday. With her dark red hair tousled and lips swollen from his kisses, she looked as beautiful as she had yesterday, illuminated as she was by the early morning sun.
"There's one bedroom downstairs," he said in a hushed voice. "I thought — if your mother and Petunia ever visit — that would be where they stay." He led her down the hall. "Three bedrooms up here, here, I think you'll like this one—"
He nudged the door open. It was small and painted in soft colors. The green walls were pearly in the light, and the wood floor under their feet was weathered and lovely. A bit of the ivy that climbed the outer walls of the cottage gave a little wave, as though telling them good morning. James shook his head over that silly thought, then watched the thoughts flicker over his wife's face. This was the room, surely, that the previous owners had used for their small sons and daughters, and it was partly why James had bought the house.
They both wanted children. James wanted an entire horde of them; his own childhood had been wonderful, but he wanted a houseful.
James wrapped his arms around Lily and rested his chin on the top of her head. They stood there, looking out into the dawn. James's thoughts had been pulled to the past these last few days. Today, they were drawn to the future. He could almost see those children, his and Lily's, with their mother's dark red hair — or his messy black hair — and her smile and his love for Quidditch. He could almost hear their laughter... he could see this room filled with soft furniture and happy Potters... the family they had created yesterday going on into the future, Voldemort be damned. This was what mattered.
He smiled, hoping they all had her eyes.
The darkness would not touch their house in Godric's Hollow.
Author's Note: This fic was written for the incomparable ConstanceZin for a Secret Santa type gift exchange, and required more hand-holding than normal because it is nerve-wracking to create for someone so talented and want to do it justice! So thank you very much to Magic, Hazza, midnight elite, Velvethope, and bum for the encouragement. Gift exchanges are so much fun! (If you would like to read the gift written for me, it was done by prongsdamnyou and is adorable). I hope you had a Merry Christmas, if you celebrate, and a pleasant day, if you don't. Thank you for reading, and if you feel like leaving a review, I would very much appreciate it.