A/N: Happy Christmas from alrightginger and women-inthe-sequel! We will be updating this fic once a week up until Christmas week!

Chapter One: Cold and Grey

Christmas was cold and grey. Another holiday, alone to celebrate.

James has never really had an actual job before.

There had never really been a need for one in the past. His parents insisted that he need not distract himself with working long hours when he should be focusing on school and sports instead. They made more than enough to provide for him comfortably where he didn't feel like a burden and didn't question them.

He had never been lacking for anything, and neither had his parents for that matter. He received a weekly allowance and that was that.

He realizes that it makes him seem a bit spoiled to other people. How it makes him miss out on the grueling experiences that only a college part time job can provide.

But his parents had insisted.

They were adamant, and he always went along with what his parents wanted.

Even after their unexpected passing a few months apart from each other, his parents left him with enough money that he didn't need to work. They had left him more than comfortable with his inheritance.

They had always been preparing for this, he realizes. For a world he would have to face without them.

But it didn't cross his mind that such a world could exist. At least, not as young as he is.

For the first few months after, when he had been trying to figure out how to be the sole Potter in a world where he always had his parents, he hadn't even considered looking for a job. There were too many other things for him to focus on, and he didn't have bills piling up or anything go the sort.

Having to plan a funeral for his father alone was enough to block out the real world for a while. At least when his mother passed, Fleamont had been around to help him with all the little details of funeral planning.

But when Fleamont passed (of what James assumes now is a broken heart from missing James' mother), James had been left to deal with it all alone.

He had to deal with listening to the contents of his father's will being distributed like they were merely objects. Like everything he owned was just simple things with no memory attached to them at all. He had to come home to a large house that he inherited and now lived in alone at the age of twenty-one.

But the hardest thing he's had to deal with yet is the fact that Christmas is fast approaching. For the first time in his life, James is going to be alone on Christmas.

The thought is depressing. Maddening. He doesn't even understand how it can be possible.

His parents had been so vibrant and seemingly large with just their presences. How is it that the world keeps spinning and things like Christmas keep happening without his parents around? How is it that he hadn't realized how very alone he would be without them?

He always assumed they would be around forever.

"You need to get a job," Remus told him a week ago when he came over to find James wallowing. "It'll get you out of the house. Get your mind off of things for a while. You'd be around other people too."

James had snorted into his drink. "Who would ever want to hire someone like me? I've never even had a real job before."

"I'll hire you," Remus said. "At the coffee shop. We need seasonal help anyway. It'll be good for you."

James feels like a posh, spoiled prat for curling his nose up at the thought of working during the Christmas season, but Remus had made a point.

He doesn't want to be alone.

Especially not at Christmas.

Which is how he finds himself dressed as a barista for the first time in his life, feeling every bit like he's playing a character instead of going to the actual first day of his actual first ever job.

The Book Nook is an older, shabbier looking storefront with a coffee shop inside, nestled between a bakery and clothing boutique. James has been here many times before to pester Remus during his working hours and to browse for books while sipping on one of Remus' creations.

Today, he opens the door as an employee. A seasonal employee, but still.

Remus looks up when he hears the bell ring from his place in the corner. "Hey," he says, looking generally pleased and a bit shocked. Maybe he hadn't expected James to actually show up. "You made it. Five minutes early too."

"Gotta impress the boss," James says, saluting Remus as he steps behind the counter.

"You pass. Your first impression is good," Remus says. "Do you want me to show you how to use the grinder and espresso maker?"

James flinches at the term grinder, and wonders not for the first time why he took a job working with a drink he cannot stand. Bean water, coffee is. Disgusting. Even the smell gives him a headache. Working here is going to be like having a permanent migraine.

"Okay," James says, trying to keep his tone cheerful. Christmassy, even.

James tries his best to pay attention to everything Remus tells him and even attempts to make a carbon copy of whatever it is Remus has just made, but it comes out even worse than he could have ever imagined.

He's pretty sure it's alive, the way it's boiling angrily at him.

"Maybe we will keep you on the register," Remus says, rubbing the back of his neck. "At least for now."

"I can make hot chocolate," James says, feeling down on himself. "I know how to do that."

"Hot chocolate is perfect for this time of year," Remus says generously. He not so subtly tips James' coffee concoction into the sink and runs the water. "There's actually some candy in the supply room. Maybe you can come up with some cocoa flavors to put on the sign?"

"Sure," James agrees, moving to do as he's told.

He wonders if this is going to end up like Bio, where he's extremely rubbish at it and usually manages to do something so impossibly bad that people can't believe it. Like when he nearly blew up his lab station.

In Bio.

Not even fucking Chemistry.

He shakes his head, willing himself to believe that his chances of blowing up Remus' coffee shop are extremely low, and begins to work on the sign. He's in the middle of drawing a terrible version of a hot chocolate cup with a candy cane sticking out when a pleasant smell from next door hits him.

It takes him a moment to realize what it is. When he does, he has a horrible case of deja vu where he's transported back into his mother's kitchen at six years old, making sugar cookies for Santa on Christmas Eve.

A wave of homesickness hits him. He feels a terrible mixture of tears and the need to vomit.

He hadn't even considered the fact that this would be his first year not making sugar cookies for Christmas with his family. It's a tradition that he's left alone with now, and he's not sure if he wants it.

But he sniffs the air and decides that maybe it would hurt less if he doesn't actually make the cookies himself.

"The bakery next door is baking sugar cookies," James tells Remus as soon as he opens the door to go back into the shop.

"Oh."

Remus is a good friend, one of James' best friends, but this isn't the first time he's looked at a total loss. Since getting the news and helping with plans and everything in between, he's tried. He has let James call him in the middle of the night and slept over at his house when the emptiness echoed too much. He's sat through difficult conversations and spent hours researching terms to explain confusing legal language.

But he still can't make it better.

That, more than anything, is probably what makes him look like this when he doesn't know what to say. Remus likes to find an answer and solve a problem.

This - everything that's happened in the last year - doesn't have a solution.

"Come inside," Remus says. "I'll open the front. Do you need a minute? Or - or anything else?"

James knows he probably looks a bit off, standing there in the doorway with wide eyes and parted lips. He knows Remus is still worried over him and that the way he's acting over the smell of the sugar cookies from next door isn't helping, but he can't stop the next thing that comes out of his mouth.

"Cookies," he says, sounding desperate. "I need cookies. I need those cookies. The ones they're making next door."

Remus' shoulders drop and the line on his forehead disappears. "Okay," he says, relieved. "We'll get some."

He goes back to the counter and reaches into the tip jar sitting by the register. Remus fishes around for the bills, but there aren't many tips before the shop has opened for the day.

"Could we offer a trade?" James suggests. "That's a thing, right? People trade goods all the time. Some hot chocolate for some cookies?"

"Um." Remus blinks and withdraws his hand from the tip jar. "I hadn't thought about it, but sure. Bartering has been around for ages. We can make them an offer and see what they say. Do you want to take care of it? I'll open while you do it."

"Sure. How many people work over there anyway?"

"I've seen three at the most during their shifts," Remus says. "You might want to take four cups just in case. Butter them up more."

James nods, quickly setting to work to make the most festive hot chocolates he can and penning a quick note.

Hope you enjoy this special concoction, brewed with extra Christmas spirit.

And extra marshmallows, but don't tell my secret.

He pauses, unsure if he wants to sign his real name to the bottom of the note. It seems silly to do so. It also seems silly not to.

In the end, he draws a picture of a stag and signs off as Prongs.

"I'll be back," he calls to Remus before he heads out, shivering in the winter air.

The bakery isn't open yet, something James hadn't considered, but he balances the hot chocolate carrier in one hand and knocks on the door with the other, hoping someone will answer. To his immense relief, a boy peeks out from the back, his face brightening when he sees James standing there with his drink carrier.

"Hey," the boy greets, unlocking the door and leaning against the frame.

There's no other way to describe this boy other than cool. He's so effortlessly cool that it makes James a bit sick with jealousy. Whereas James' hair sticks up all over the place as if he's been electrocuted, this boy's hair falls to his shoulders with effortless style. His grin as he takes James in is the heartbreaking sort seen on the front of a magazine. James' own grin is a bit lopsided and a bit wonky, like the rest of him.

"Hey," James says, remembering his manners. He holds out the drink carrier. "I work next door and was wondering if you'd guys would be open for a trade. Some drinks for some of those cookies I can smell all the way over at our store?"

The boy's eyes go to the steaming drinks in the carrier. James sees them noticeably widen and then alight when he takes them in. "Yeah, we'd be open to that. What do you think is fair for at least three of those?" A perfectly timed breeze directs the steam toward him and causes him to shiver, making him perfectly in need of the hot chocolate James is offering. "Maybe all four."

"Oh, um, ten maybe? What do you think?"

He hadn't thought this far. Why hadn't he thought this far? He can hear his mother's voice in his head telling him that it's because he never thinks.

He isn't sure how much a single cookie actually costs. Surely it's not more than a cup of hot chocolate.

He really needs to get acquainted with how the real world works a bit more.

James nearly had a panic attack his first time shopping alone. He feels a similar sort of anxiety bubbling up now, because for some unknown reason, he wants this boy to like him. To not think of him as some uncultured idiot.

"I'll see what I can do," the boy says. He pushes the door open with his foot and gestures James inside. "Want to come in?"

The mood shift between The Book Nook and the bakery is obvious.

While the Nook relies on the old spines of their books to make up most of their decor, this place has fully embraced the holiday spirit. There are a few garlands and some added red features in the bookstore part of their shop, but this bakery doesn't do Christmas half way. A full size artificial tree is standing proudly by the entrance. The ornaments, James notices, are mostly bakery themed - sparkly cupcakes and handmade cookies - with some Santas, ice skates, and presents thrown in for good measure.

Speaking of good measure, he even sees some measuring cups placed on the branches like improvised ornaments.

This space is more open than the Nook. They also have a few tables for customers, but the path to the counter and display case is clear. There are bright white lights overhead and centerpieces on each table made of candles.

Despite the over-abundance of decorations that would often make a place tacky, this bakery isn't, even he has to admit. This bakery has some real charm to it.

Without him noticing, the boy slips behind the counter and into the backroom. James hears some conversation, but it's impossible to make out exactly what they're saying.

Only a minute or so later, the bakery boy emerges again. This time, he has a white paper bag in his hand, which he offers to James.

"We had some discussion about it, so here's what I can offer. They thought about giving you six, but I talked them up to eight. Plus, there's a mini cinnamon roll for you to try. Can you let me know what you think about it? We're not sure whether the icing is ready for the public yet."

James' eyes brighten pathetically at the bag as he takes it. Cool he most definitely is not.

"Eight is perfect. Thank you. And yeah, I'll let you know about the icing…" He squints at the name tag the boy has on, realizing that he's going to have to make his first eye doctor appointment on his own soon. "Sirius. Huh. Interesting name."

"Blame my family," Sirius says with a dramatic eye roll. "They have this weird thing about stars, but I'm still attached to it, even if they're…" He shakes his head, clearly deciding whatever he was going to say is too much for a first meeting. "What's yours?"

"James," he answers. "Terribly plain, considering my parents were named Fleamont and Euphemia. I guess they wanted me to have a simpler name."

Sirius laughs, short and loud. Somehow, even that is cool when he does it.

"They must have learned some lessons from their time in middle school. They wanted to give you a chance. Did they stick you with an embarrassing middle name, at least?"

James' own lips quirk. It's been a while since he's laughed but he feels the familiar action bubbling up in his throat.

"Afraid so. My middle name is Fleamont, after my dear old dad."

"Perfect," Sirius says, grinning. "I got Orion from my old dad too, but I wouldn't call him dear."

"Sirius!" someone yells from the room in the back. James can hear an oven closing. "Did you open the front?"

"I got it," he calls back, reaching past James to flip the sign. "We're here all day if you want to let me know about the icing. We're still trying a few things."

"Sounds good," James says, offering Sirius a parting wave. "See you later, Sirius."

"See you, James," he replies, ducking behind the counter and grabbing an apron from the hook by the door that leads to the kitchen. "Pleasure doing business. Merry Christmas."

James walks back to the shop, digging a reindeer shaped cookie out of the bag and taking a bite out of it, feeling happier than he has in a while.

He makes a mental note to tell Sirius that the icing is incredible when a note falls out of the bag. He picks it up, unfolding it to find the words Merry Christmas written out neatly. Under those words is a short note in careful, rounded letters.

The cocoa smells just like Christmas. You have a gift. By the way, we love marshmallows here. What's your favorite kind of Christmas cookie?

The end of the note has a messy doodle of a doe instead of a traditional signature.

He looks back at the bakery as if whoever wrote the note would be there watching him, but he finds he's alone. It's starting to become a more normal feeling for him.

But he clutches the note a bit tighter in his hands as proof that he's not.

Lily has worked at odds and ends jobs since she was fifteen.

There was an ice cream shoppe over some summers, stocking the shelves at the grocery store closest to her parents' house, and even a brief time as a waitress at an old fashioned drive in.

That last one didn't go as well as the others.

It's not her fault, Lily has argued, that one order of burgers and fries looks pretty similar to the next one. They should have worked out a better system to make sure she got the right food in the right cars.

College, her parents insisted, was a time to take a break from job hopping. For the first year - at least the first semester, her father asked - she could keep her resume on her computer and focus on getting used to new classes and schedules. They would send her an allowance so she wouldn't have to dive into the first place with a Help Wanted sign.

Her deal with her parents lasted about a month.

By the end of her first semester, Lily had a part time job on campus, along with a few hours of tutoring at the Academic Support Center.

Lily, it turns out, is good at many things, but she isn't good at not being busy.

Too busy, her mother would argue.

By now, though, her tendency to jump in and figure out how it all works later is not news. Her mother only lifted a brow when Lily came home on the first day of winter break, explaining that she found the perfect position for her few weeks at home.

It doesn't hurt that one of her best friends works there too.

For the time she is away from school, Lily wants to be immersed in the season. She wants to hear Christmas songs when she walks into the store and dig out all of the boxes from her parents' attic. She wants to wrap presents and bundle up in several layers to look at lights.

Lily Evans loves Christmas.

The bakery is perfect, she knows immediately, because the bakery is Christmas in a place. Or, at least, it has the potential to be.

Mr. Dumbledore, the old man who owns the shop, gives her and Sirius what is pretty close to free rein. He didn't flinch when Lily spent a whole afternoon with a stack of felt and scissors to make some of the ornaments that decorated the large tree by the door. He didn't mind when she put away the boring cookie cutters and bought every Christmas-adjacent one from Homegoods.

Lily could have sworn she caught an actual twinkle in his eye.

She decides, as she cuts out some Christmas tree cookies, that she has to prove that she is a valuable asset to the bakery during this time of year. New decorations will attract new customers. Themed cookies will make them want to buy a set instead of one or two to eat while they walk and shop.

She can put her talent and Christmas spirit to use.

Each member of their team has a specific job. Together, they can make everything work.

Because Lily has many talents, but baking isn't one of them. It's only a minor problem when she makes a point to work at a small bakery.

Sirius is in charge of most of the baking. Between him and Marlene, who has most of the ideas for the recipes, they keep the ovens running and churning out new creations for their customers. While Sirius checks on the supplies, Marlene comes up with names for the new things they add to the menu every day.

Decorating is something Lily can do. The store, the cookies, everything that can be decorated. These days, she goes to sleep with visions of Christmas cookies and icing dancing in her head.

That's how she finds herself going back and forth from the register to the decorating counter all day. She's usually trying to sell the goods in the display case, but she makes a point of going into the back and creating a few masterpieces to make them stand out against the more corporate grocery store bakeries on the other side of town.

Why Sirius is hanging out with her in the back instead of helping Marlene in the front, though, is anyone's guess. He will probably argue that he's keeping an eye on the stuff in the oven since Lily can't be trusted with it.

She decides not to bring it up for the sake of her ego.

"No one," Lily says, brandishing the pastry bag like a dagger, "should be alone on Christmas."

"In theory." Sirius lounges against the fridge with his arms crossed over his chest. "But when the choice is alone or with my family… I think I'd rather go it alone."

"But it's Christmas!" Lily argues. "Haven't you heard any of the songs?"

"You clearly haven't heard my dad's rant about how the protests are all a ploy to -"

"Oh, I don't need to hear it," Lily says, shaking her head. She bends to add another row to a gingerbread man's sweater. "My brother-in-law is always going on about how safe spaces are ruining the world."

"Exactly. I think I'd rather be alone."

Lily sighs. "I'm going to find something to get you into the spirit."

"Oh, don't worry, Evans," Sirius says, standing. "I love Christmas, even if I don't love spending it with my family." He swipes the hot chocolate sitting by her side and takes a drink. "I can't believe you claimed this one first! You know how much I love caramel."

"Hey!" Lily elbows him and snatches her cup back. "I've been saving that! This is the best hot chocolate I've had in my life."

"Greedy isn't a good look on you, Evans," Sirius faux chides.

"Thievery isn't a good look on you, Black."

"The boy does make a good hot chocolate, though. Assuming he is the one who made it. I don't actually know. I wonder if we could trade him twice in one day?"

"Definitely," Lily says confidently. "As long as we give him something worth trading. He's the one who wanted the cookies first, right? Did you tell him to get back to us about the new icing?"

"I did indeed. Do you have something else in mind?"

"I tried another new flavor," she says, pointing to a bowl on the counter. "Caramel sauce, inspired by the cocoa. We should see what they think about it."

"And if in return they give us more hot chocolate…" Sirius says, smirking devilishly.

"Even better."

"Want me to run them over after you decorate them? You can decorate, right? You won't be able to burn the kitchen that way, surely."

"I've only decorated everything in the display case," Lily replies drily. She lifts the pastry bag and puts a spot of icing on his nose. "Get an extra caramel cocoa so you don't steal mine this time."

"Evans!" Sirius cries, scrunching his nose in fake outrage. "How uncivilized of you!"

"You deserve it, Black." Victoriously, Lily takes the last drink of the coveted hot chocolate. "There's some fresh cookies on the bottom rack to give them. Plus," she slides the gingerbread man she was working on into a bag, "this one. Can you get everything else ready?"

"You're bossy," Sirius comments, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his jumper. "You just want to send these things? Nothing else?"

"Should we offer them something else?"

"I don't know," Sirius says, shrugging. "A confession of love, maybe? I may marry that bloke just for his hot chocolate skills."

"You're trying to find someone to spend Christmas with. I knew it!"

Sirius rolls his eyes, used to this line of argument from her. "You got me, Evans."

"Is he cute?"

"Sure," Sirius says, though he doesn't elaborate. "Looked like he could use some cheering up, though."

"I'll write a note," Lily says, wiping her hands on her apron and putting down the pastry bag. She grabs a sticky note and pencil.

Any of these your favorite? Give me a hint.

Let me know if the icing lives up to its inspiration. More cocoa, please!

Like in the last one, Lily draws something vaguely resembling a doe as her signature.

"Are you flirting through note?" Sirius asks over her shoulder. Lily nearly jumps a foot in the air, not expecting him to be standing so close.

"I'm not flirting," Lily says, folding the note and putting it in the bag with the cookies. "I don't even know what the guy looks like. You're the one who met him. Are you flirting when you go over?"

"I'm always flirting," Sirius says, giving her a wink. She can't tell if he's joking or not. Probably not. Most likely not. "Wish me luck, Evans. At least one of us should get a boyfriend out of this."

"Don't break up!" she says, handing him the bag. "You don't want to make me choose between you and hot chocolate."

A week passes by and James starts to find himself actually looking forward to work.

He knows this isn't typically how you're supposed to feel about a job. Or, at least, he's heard people grumbling about them in the past. Considering this is his first job, and he's working alongside Remus everyday, he doesn't feel like he's got it too bad.

There are certainly worse things he could be doing with his time.

Like sitting around alone in his house for one. He's been doing that for over a month now, and ever since starting his job where he's around actual, live people during the day, he finds it harder to go home to the silence.

It's even harder waking up to the silence instead of his mother's singing, which is why he suspects he shows up to work even before Remus this particular morning.

"Hey," Remus greets as he pushes the door open, tilting his head in that concerned way he does around James sometimes. "You're early."

"There's nothing wrong with being early," James tells him. "I've been working on a new hot chocolate mix. Considering it's the only thing I'm good at around here. Other than charming the customers into buying those awful pre-packaged brownies before they realize there's a bakery next door."

Remus smiles, seemingly deciding that if James is in the mood to joke around, he must not be doing too badly.

"You the only one here?"

"No," James says, having to keep his tone as neutral as possible. "Unfortunately -"

The back door opens with such force that both James and Remus nearly jump out of their skin.

"Benjy is here," James finishes, gesturing at the boy who entered with a candy cane.

"Remus!" Benjy greets, loudly. He's wearing headphones. He's always wearing headphones and refuses to take them out until absolutely necessary. Most of James' conversations with the other boy have been at shouting level.

James has patience for a lot of things, but Benjy Fenwick is not one of them.

"Benjy," Remus greets with a nod back. He gives James a look that clearly says play nice.

And James absolutely doesn't want to play nice, but he will. Mostly because he doesn't have a proper partner in crime here, and pranking Benjy is a two person job if he's ever seen one.

"James!" Benjy calls at headphone volume, turning his grin toward him. "Have something new for us to try?"

"These aren't for you," James says, quickly putting a chocolate drizzle on top of the whipped cream. "Sirius will be stopping by soon for another trade. These are for our bakery friends."

"Sirius?" Remus asks, doing that concerned head tilt again.

"He works next door," Benjy says. He goes to straighten a few books on their shelf, but he's still in shouting range. "Are you two friends?"

James blinks at this.

Are they friends?

He isn't sure. Sirius certainly makes a point to talk to him any time he comes in, and not just passing greetings. They've had tons of conversations about random things that Remus doesn't have the attention span for. It's like they're riding the same particular wave of ADD and know exactly where the other person is going with their thousand fork in the road conversations.

Remus, god love him, always says he can't follow James' train of thought to save his life.

He thinks he's friends with Sirius.

He wants to be friends with Sirius.

"We're friends," James says, hoping it manifests. "He's pretty cool. Remus, you'd probably like him, if you could ever pull yourself out of the back enough to meet him."

"I'm making sure we don't need to put in another order for supplies. Last year, we ran out of candy canes just in time for Christmas Eve, and -"

"Sirius is a good guy," Benjy says, moving down the shelf. He actually moves his headphones around his neck, for once, but James can hear the faint noise of the music. "He's friends with my girlfriend."

"You have a girlfriend?" James asks a bit too harshly. He clears his throat, trying again. "I mean… I didn't know you had a girlfriend."

Benjy grins, unbothered by James. He's unbothered by most things, apparently.

"Her name is Mary," Benjy says. James swears he has hearts in his eyes. "We've been together for two years now."

"Does she work at the bakery too?" Remus asks.

"No," Benjy says. "She's stuck at Target for the season because she wanted the employee discount. But her best friend works next door."

James wonders if that's who has been writing him the notes. It could be Sirius, for all he knows, but the handwriting is so neat and the signature is a doe. He's assumed it's a girl.

Whoever it is, he looks forward to their notes more than they could possibly ever know.

He tucks his own response into the drink carrier, snuggled next to a cup with a doe drawn on it.

I hope you like this drink, Doe, whoever you are. I made it with you in mind. Let me know what you think.

The icing was wonderful.

Still not my favorite flavor, but mine is a bit less traditional for this time of year. ;) My mother used to make it every Christmas for me to go with my cookies.

— Prongs

He wonders if he's over sharing in his note to Doe. Probably so. He has a tendency to over share. He pauses over the last sentence, his pen hovering over the word used.

He frowns.

"James," Remus says, shaking him from his thoughts. He's looking at him with concern in his eyes again. He keeps catching James like this, teetering between normalcy and despair.

"I'm fine," James says. He doesn't feel fine. Not at all, but he doesn't want to bother Remus. "Really, I'm okay."

Remus opens his mouth, probably about to argue, but the bell to their shop dings and James looks up to see Sirius strolling in, looking far too cool to be James' actual friend.

"Hey," James greets, quickly placing the rest of the cups in the carrier. "I've got your stuff ready to go."

"We're trying something new," Sirius says. He strides in confidently, like there is no reason he shouldn't belong in the shop. He holds out the bag, which has a doodle of a deer's head on the side. "Snickerdoodle icing sandwiches. Still experimenting with the icing flavor, if you have any opinions. I brought three for three, if that works for you?"

James' eyes brighten. "That works perfectly."

"Hey, Sirius!" Benjy says, appearing out of nowhere to throw an arm around Sirius. James watches as Sirius doesn't look at Benjy like he's the most annoying person on the planet. Sirius grins. "How's it going over there?"

"We have another Christmas tree that got brought in this morning," Sirius says. "We are going to look like Santa's workshop by the end of the week if Evans has anything to say about it." He plucks Benjy's headphones from around his neck and laughs. "You don't get enough Christmas music from hanging with the girls?"

"Are you kidding?" Benjy laughs. "They have nothing on my Christmas spirit."

James watches the way Benjy and Sirius interact with a weird sense of jealousy. The familiar way in which they play off each other. Whenever Benjy tries to hang off of James, he just ends up shoving him away.

He feels like a Christmas grump watching them.

A Scrooge.

He cuts his eyes to the side, feeling like a jerk, when he notices that Remus is still standing there. Just standing there, actually, with his mouth open and his eyes wide. James follows his gaze back to Sirius.

No way.

"Sirius," James says, hopping across the counter and not so gently shoving Benjy out of the way. "Have you met Remus? He's the one who hired me."

Sirius ducks out from under Benjy's arm to take a step toward Remus. "Hey," he greets, flicking back his hair in a movement that is too much like the hero in a movie to be real. "Thanks for hiring a cocoa expert. We're basically running on this stuff at the bakery."

"Oh, um," Remus stutters, his face flaming red. James bites his lower lip to keep from snickering. "Yeah, no problem. I mean, James is my friend. Good friend. Just a friend."

Benjy laughs, but it's not mean-spirited.

"We've known each other since we were five," James chimes in. "He used to correct the way I spoke in class."

"He put an s on words that didn't need them," Remus explains, blushing at the floor.

"Drove Remus crazy," James says. "But I think that's what he looks for in a friendship. Someone he can correct. Make better."

Sirius nods and puts his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He's looking at Remus instead of James, which seems to be making Remus' ears turn red. "I know someone like that. We knew each other as kids, so she's always telling me to make sure I sound as smart as I am."

"Remember when she made you enter the geography bee in high school and you won?" Benjy says, turning the volume down slightly on his headphones.

Sirius grins. "I have a good memory."

"Remus was on the debate team in high school," James says. Wingman James, reporting for duty. "He's the smartest person I know. He's always wanted to go to the trivia nights at that little pub downtown. What's the place?"

"The Three Broomsticks," Remus manages to choke out. He's looking at James now like he's on fire.

"That's right," James says, snapping his fingers. "He can never quite find enough people to form a team, and I'm hopeless at that sort of thing. I go for the half off appetizers."

"I like half off appetizers," Sirius says. "You know, I think I could talk a few people into coming with me if you needed some more. Right, Benjy?"

"Definitely," Benjy agrees, nodding. "Mary loves a chance to show off being right."

Sirius lets out one of his bark-like laughs that James has come to recognize. "Our friends do love doing that."

Remus manages to finally look at Sirius, and his face fades to a pink. "You'd really come?"

"Yeah." Sirius grins again. "I'll ask them about it when I get back to the bakery with these." He takes his hand out of his pocket to grab the drink carrier. "I don't know what they'll do to me if they're cold when I get there. You'll let me know what you think about the cookie sandwiches, yeah? All of you?"

"Will do," James says before Benjy can open his mouth. "I might stop by later anyway to get a few treats for myself after my shift ends."

"See you then." Sirius raises his other hand in a wave. "Good to meet you, Remus."

The tips of Remus' ears go pink again. "Nice to meet you."

With another wave to Benjy, Sirius turns and disappears with the jingle of the bell over the door.

James waits the obligatory twenty seconds to make sure Sirius is around the corner before he bursts out laughing.

"Shut up!" Remus shouts, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "I can't believe you did that!"

"Did what?" James teases. "Get you a date with a guy you clearly like?"

"I dunno, Rem," Benjy says, leaning against the counter. "It looks to me like James did you a favor. Sirius Black doesn't always say yes to people he doesn't know."

"Really?" Remus asks, matching James' disbelief in his tone.

Sirius seems like he says yes to everything just for the experience of it all.

"I don't want to get too into it, since it's not my stuff to tell," Benjy says with a shrug. "He has some family stuff that makes him think twice about who to trust. He must like you, Potter, to go all in so fast."

James can't help the pride that swells embarrassingly in his chest.

"Yeah, well," he says, trying to brush it off with a hand in his hair. "He clearly likes Remus more."

"He doesn't even know me," Remus protests. His face hasn't fully gone back to its normal shade. "God, what if I make it awkward at trivia? I can't believe this."

"How would you make it awkward?" Benjy asks.

"By being myself!" Remus' hands fly in the air like he's praying. "What if he thinks I'm too much of a know it all?"

"What if he thinks it's adorable?" James counters.

"Some of Sirius' best friends can be know-it-alls. He likes people who challenge him," Benjy says, dragging the bag of baked goods toward himself. "Hey, can we try these?"

"Wait!" James cries, snatching the bag. He opens it, checking for a piece of folded paper. "Just let me see if — ah ha!"

To his delight, Doe has packed another note. He unfolds it, handing the bag back to Benjy.

Another experiment for you! If you're tired of trying new things, I can

"What's that?" Remus asks before he can finish reading.

"Oh," James says, blinking. Now it's his turn to blush. "It's nothing, really."

"It can't be nothing," Benjy says, already munching on one of the cookie sandwiches. "Not with the way you ripped the bag from my hands."

"It's just a note," James says simply. Because it is that simple. Right? "I've been sending notes back and forth with someone who works over at the bakery whenever we trade."

"Who is it?" Benjy says between bites. "I could introduce you."

"I… don't know," James admits. "We don't use our real names."

"That's silly," Benjy says. He pushes the bag toward Remus for him to take his cookie sandwich. "There's only so many people it could be. Do you want me to find out?"

"No," James says quickly. Maybe a bit too quickly.

He isn't sure why, but he doesn't want Benjy being the one to tell him who Doe is. He hasn't even considered finding out himself, really. At least not yet. She's someone he enjoys conversing with through the notes they send back and forth, sure. He thinks she's someone he would like to get to know in person, based on her taste in icing alone.

But he sort of likes the mystery of her right now.

He likes how simple it is to talk to her on paper while everything else feels hard right now.

"No?" Benjy repeats.

James shakes his head. "I'm not there yet, but when I am, I'll figure it out myself."

Remus looks at him.

"Okay." Benjy shrugs after a beat and stuffs the rest of his cookie sandwich, which is a little too large for one bite, into his mouth. He turns and heads toward the stacks. "Tell them the icing's good!" he calls over his shoulder, pulling his headphones back up and getting into sorting mode.

"I can go up front and make sure everything is ready." Remus takes his own cookie sandwich and wraps it in a napkin. "Are you good?"

"Fine," James says. "Just fine."

He wonders how many times he's answered that same question the same way.

James opens the note to see the last line by Doe.

Merry Christmas, Prongs!

Every day they get closer to Christmas, the bakery gets busier.

Pretty soon, Lily doesn't have time to banter with Sirius or tease Marlene about which hot chocolate she selects. Sirius is in the kitchen practically non-stop, leaving fresh trays of cookies on the counter for Lily to decorate when she has a chance. Marlene takes over the register more often so Lily can whip up new icing and make a gingerbread family's smiles charmingly crooked.

By the time evening rolls around, Lily is glad for the chance to breathe.

The dinner rush is good for servers who need tips and the tired crew of their bakery who need a break. With unanimous agreement, they send Marlene to the diner at the end of the road to get them something to eat and Sirius upstairs to talk to Mr. Dumbledore about plans for the next day.

That leaves Lily alone in the shop, but she can handle it. Their display case is as fully stocked as could be expected this late in the day.

And she has a tree to decorate.

Lily moves onto her toes to reach one of the higher branches. She strings the lights and starts to move down, trying to make them evenly spaced.

The bell chimes, making her look around the tree to the door.

"I'll be right there!" Lily calls. She tucks the end of this string of lights into the branches and straightens her apron. While she walks toward the counter, she adds, "How can I...?"

She stops in her tracks when she sees the person standing by the counter. He isn't wearing a hat, despite the recent dip in temperature, but his jacket is buttoned to his neck. It's not the clothes that stop her, though. It's the fact that his smile is possibly brighter than the decorated tree by the door.

Mary's teasing about Lily's type comes to mind immediately. He has a pair of thick rimmed frames that remind her of those pictures of celebrities where they try to look like average people by wearing glasses. His hair sticks up in a way that makes her want to run her fingers through it to see if it can lay flat.

What is wrong with her?

Lily clears her throat. "Sorry about that. How can I help you?"

"Hi there," the boy greets cheerfully. His cheeks are pink. Likely from the cold, Lily assumes. "I was wanting to get some cupcakes. Do you have a mix and match option? Is that a thing?"

"We can do that," Lily says, going behind the counter and gesturing toward the display case. She grabs a box, puts on a glove, and opens the back of the case. It gives her a few seconds to get back into bakery mode. "Do you know which ones you want?"

"Two chocolate, two strawberry, and…" He peers over the display, his eyes searching before they land on what he wants and light up. He has bits of gold in his hazel eyes. "Two lemon cupcakes. They're my favorite."

A laugh bubbles out of her chest before she even realizes it.

That makes his eyes sparkle distractingly.

"You got it," Lily answers, ducking down to get his requested cupcakes. She makes a point of selecting the ones that she thinks show off the best of her decorating abilities, including the lemon cupcake she decorated like a star.

Standing up again, Lily closes the box and sits it on top of the display case. She looks back at him and can't help but smile. "Anything else I can get you?"

"No, that's perfect," he says, handing over his credit card and looking around appreciatively. "This place looks amazing. I haven't even gotten a tree yet."

Lily takes his card but doesn't swipe it.

"You have to get a tree!" she says with a mix of affected outrage and surprise. "How else will Santa know where to leave your presents?"

The boy blinks at her, taken aback for the slightest moment before laughing.

"I guess you're right," he says, his eyes softening as he looks at her. "I'd hate to be the only one on Christmas morning that Santa missed. Especially since I've been so good this year."

"It's never fun to be disappointed on December 26th. I argued for the extra tree in the corner because we weren't quite right without it." As she gestures to the half-lit tree, Lily catches a glimpse of the card in her hand and hurriedly runs it through the reader. "Here's your card. And your cupcakes!"

"Maybe I need your help picking out a tree," the boy comments, taking back his card. "You seem to have good taste."

"Well, I am the unofficial Christmas decorator of this bakery."

"Well, I appreciate your Christmas spirit," he says, picking up his cupcake box. "Thanks again, by the way. For these."

"Of course." Lily tucks some hair behind her ear.

No other customer has left her so flustered and curious at the same time. He has talked to her more than almost anyone else who stops by the shop, so maybe that's why she doesn't want him to leave.

"I hope you like them," she says. "We're here with Christmas spirit and baked goods for the whole month."

"I'll keep that in mind…" He pauses, looking at her name tag. "Lily. Pretty name."

"Thanks. My parents had a theme in mind when naming me and my sister, so it's a little -" Lily catches herself rambling. "Anyway. Merry Christmas."

"My name's James," he says, pausing by the door to wave. "Merry Christmas, Lily."

"Merry Christmas, James. Hope to see you again."

After he leaves, Lily lifts her fingers to her warm face. Her heart is beating and her cheeks are flushed like she raced down a hill on a sled instead of doing her job and selling cupcakes.

The front door opens again, revealing Marlene with a bag of food and Sirius with a grin.

"Hey," she greets, schooling her features into place. "Want to help me decorate the tree?"