A/N: I will probably never write this pairing ever again, but it seemed like a good idea at the time (note to self: do not listen to brain when it comes up with bad ideas). This was inspired by the sprig of mistletoe hanging in my Algebra class (so far, everyone has avoided that spot). Flashbacks are in italics (Just the long-ish stuff. Not the one or two words.).
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Mistletoe, he decides, is the worst plant on earth.
James is standing under the mistletoe with Lily. He looks almost ecstatic at his good fortune (so different from last year, when she told him he was an arrogant pig and was the last person on earth she would ever even touch at the mere suggestion of a mistletoe kiss). Lily is blushing, though she is trying to hide it. A crowd has already gathered, cheering them on—everyone knows that they will (not might) get married one day. Kiss, kiss, kiss, they chant.
He wants to run away, but his feet seem to be glued to the floor (Actually, they are. He's quite sure the mistletoe's charmed, but he's never bothered to learn the countercharm.). She's looking at him almost like a deer caught in headlights, and he knows that she can't move, either. No one is watching (as far as he knows, they are still in the Great Hall, having pudding), but it seems as if all eyes are on them.
He wants to tell all of them to shut up already, that not everyone is happy, but it is Christmas, and it would be unkind to say that.
Oh, he wants to kiss her, but he knows that a mistletoe kiss isn't what he wants. It isn't real; neither of them have a choice in whether they want to be kissed. He wishes that he had simply stayed put and waited until after dinner to go to the loo. Really, wetting his pants would have been preferable to this.
James leans in awkwardly, his head at a strange angle that will most likely lead to his mouth colliding with Lily's ear. At the last second, he turns. Their lips meet, and Lily winces when their heads knock into each other. Still, he knows this is James' first kiss (no one believes James' claim of having snogged a girl during the holidays, partly because James barely knows the difference between snogging and kissing), and it isn't a bad one, all things considered.
"Oh," she stammers.
"You don't have to," he says. "I can always kiss you on the cheek or something. That would break the charm."
She smiles weakly. "Well, its tradition, isn't it?" Before he realizes it, she's standing on tiptoe, and her hands are on his shoulders.
He wonders if it is simply cruel irony that he had kissed the same girl who is standing next to James now, looking at him as if he is the most beautiful thing on earth, messy hair and all (how a year can change so much). He should have known he would never have her for himself (because James is James, and he is barely anything at all).
Her lips are on his, now, and for a split second, he can taste treacle tart and cream. A moment later, she's pulled away, and he can see splotches of red on her cheeks.
Oh, he hadn't loved her, but what was love anyway? Love was unnecessary affection and too many I love you so much and no, I love you more. Love was romanticized tales of a knight saving a princess from a dragon. Love was something he could never have. No, he hadn't loved Lily, but she had been safe, someone who he could bring home for Christmas holidays (not that that had ever happened) and his parents would say, What a nice girl, and Why didn't we know about her sooner?
"Sorry," she says, and he feels a need to tell her that no, it was okay (more than okay) and was that real or just because she had to?
She answers the question for him. "Is this okay?" she asks him, motioning at her lips. "We can forget about it if you want to, and go finish dinner or something."
"No," he replies. "No, I don't want to forget about this." The swiftness of his answer surprises himself, but he knows it is the truth (So what if this was a mistletoe kiss? She meant it.).
Lily smiles. "Good." She allows him to lead her back into the Great Hall, holding hands all the way.
James is walking over to him now, his face split open in a wide grin. "I kissed Lily Evans!" he exclaims. "I just kissed Lily Evans! This is the greatest day of my life!"
He smiles at James, managing to conceal his own bitterness. "That's great, Prongs," he says.
"Thanks, Moony," James says. "Now, I have to go convince Sirius that Lily might actually let me go to Hogsmeade with her next month." With that, James runs (practically skips) off, leaving Remus to stand alone in the long hallway (but this time there is no mistletoe over his head, and no Lily Evans standing next to him).
Once upon a time, he had kissed her under the mistletoe (her lips had been a pale pink, and the kiss was so light it was barely real).
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A/N: Did you guess who the narrator was going to be before the ending? Review/Feedback?