Step one, he decided, was making it clear he was serious about the whole thing. Because he was.

To that end, he broke a few rules. Well, laws, more like. He broke into a records office at the ministry and stole her address. Well, less broke into, and more strolled in, chatted with the girl out front, convinced her he was picking up a file for his father, and strolled back out with her address memorized.

Then, before he could lose his nerve, he set the rest of his plan in motion.

He knew he probably couldn't do anything on the 24th or the 25th, but he wanted to see her before Christmas. So on December 23rd, he arrived on her doorstep.

He could see through the bay window into her house. She was dancing – ridiculously - around the Christmas tree, with a woman who had to be her mother. They were adding tinsel to the already decorated tree. As he watched, they disappeared into another room. The only remaining resident was a middle-aged man, reading a newspaper in an armchair.

James screwed up his courage and knocked on the door.

"Yes?" the man answered. He looked James up and down. "Missed a turn for the opera?"

James raised both eyebrows. "I don't think so, no. Is that close to here?"

The man laughed. "What are you looking for, boyo?"

"Lily. I'm looking for Lily. Is she in? I'd like to take her to dinner, if that's acceptable to you." He kept his hands folded behind his back, couldn't quite resist the urge to bow, even though he knew it wasn't a muggle convention anymore.

"She is," her father said, amiability draining away. "And you are?"

"James Potter," he supplied. When all warmth vanished from the man's face, James knew his reputation had preceded him.

"I see."

James wanted to explain himself, but didn't even know where to start. "Could you ask, if she's willing?"

"Doubt she will be," the man muttered. "Wait here." And he closed the door in James' face.

Well, then, James thought. Not the best start, but a start nonetheless.

Lily appeared a few moments later, shocked and red-faced. "James," she said, pushing him outside, with an apologetic look at her father, who watched from the doorway. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you."

"James."

"And take you out for a proper date."

"James."

"And give you your Christmas present."

She sighed, and glanced back at her father.

"I take it they've heard about me?"

Lily nodded slowly. "A lot, over the first few years. I'd come home on breaks pretty upset. They wanted to take me out of school, wanted to have a word with Dumbledore, wanted to have more than a few words with your parents."

"Understandable," James said.

"So I'm sure you can see why they wouldn't be overjoyed to find you on our doorstep."

"I can," he nodded. "I'd still like to take you out."

He looked over, found that Lily's mother had joined her father at the door.

"Will they say no?" he asked.

Lily glanced back at the pair. "Probably not. They're very big on me being able to make my own choices."

"Then will you come?"

"James."

"I missed you, at the party last night."
She sighed.

"I told Remus about us," he added.

"You what?"

"You don't mind, do you? He knew already. Said he'd had a crush on you, in fifth year."

"He what?"

"Also mentioned you knew about him," James whispered. "So thanks, for not . . . you know, telling anyone, or making him feel bad or anything."

"Of course I wouldn't . . . Remus had a crush on me?"

"Yeah," James nodded. "You didn't have one on him did you?"

"No. Yes. A little, maybe. I don't know. It was fifth year."

"You liked him?" James asked, voice rising a bit.

Lily shot another worried look at her parents. "I don't know. It was ages ago. He was sort of sweet, and funny. He can be very kind."

"Right," James said. "Is this where I should be the bigger man and let you two-"

"Don't be stupid. I thought he was cute and occasionally entertained fantasies of kissing him."

"Did you?" James said, sounding more and more annoyed.

"And exactly how many girls have you shagged, James Potter?" Lily hissed at him.

"Point," he acknowledged with a little nod. His hands slipped into his pockets. "Come out with me? I've found a place that should be adequate." He rocked back on his heels, waiting for his answer.

"Adequate, huh?" she said.

He nodded.

"Is it very formal?" she asked, eying his outfit.

"I don't think so. It's meant to be nice. I imagine normal dinner attire is acceptable."

"Are you in normal dinner attire right now?" she asked.

"Am I not?" he whispered back.

She giggled. "You're in a tux, James."

He looked down at himself. "Should I change?"

She shook her head, still laughing. "No. You wear it well."

"I thought, since I was coming to ask permission to take you out . . ." he mumbled, trailing off.

"It's fine, James. Just, out of curiosity, the place you found? Were most of the people wearing tuxes?"

He shrugged. "Some, I suppose."

"The waiters?"

He shook his head. "Well, yes. But the diners as well. Some wore other styles. I didn't see any tails, though, so I thought the tux was a fair choice."

She dissolved into another fit of giggles. "It's probably best you didn't wear tails. Those are . . . old-fashioned."

"I see." He eyed his tux again. "Do I look like an idiot, then?"

"No," she shook her head, grinning. "You look very nice. And very formal. I doubt I have a dress to match."

His eyes lit up. "You should look. I'd like to see you in a dress. A formal dress."

She looked torn between amusement and dread. "Don't mention that to my father, please."

He shook his head. "No. That would be very impolite."

She shot him a curious look, that he couldn't interpret, and told him to stay put. Then she went off and had a whispered conversation with her parents. After a few tense moments, she waved him over.

"You can come in, James. I'll just go change." She introduced him to her mother and father before darting upstairs, her mother following her up.

"Well, then," her father said, leading him into the living room. "I suppose you should sit."

"Mr. Evans," James said, remaining standing. "I just want you to know that I know I was out of line, the way I treated your daughter. I don't expect you to give me a chance to prove I've matured since then, but I would appreciate it if you did, all the same."

Her father made a noncommittal noise. He glared at the chair he had offered previously. James promptly sat, folding his hands. They sat in absolute silence.

Upstairs, Lily's mother was helping her pick out a dress.

"Is this the first time he's taken you out?" she asked, as Lily held up the green one.

Lily nodded. "Yes," she sent her mum an apologetic look. "We've been working together pretty closely, since we're both heads."

She knew her mum well enough to know she hadn't convinced her.

"I see. You seem to have forgiven his . . . previous behavior," she said.

Lily slipped on the dress and examined herself in the mirror. "We'll see," she said. "He asked me to give him a chance. I'm trying to do that."

"Do you think he's worth a second chance?" her mother asked, handing her a wrap.

Lily shrugged it on and set about doing her hair. Her mother shooed her hands away and guided her into a chair.

"Thanks, mum. And I'm not sure if he's worth it. But I won't know if I don't try, will I?"

Her mother focused on her hair, twisting it up into a complicated style. "I've missed out on this with you," she said quietly. "I was here for Petunia's first date. I've missed all of yours."

"Don't be so sure of that," Lily mumbled.

Her mum studied her in the mirror. "Don't settle for someone you don't want, because you think you don't have any other options. You're a beautiful, intelligent, kind young woman. You have all the time in the world to find a man who appreciates you."

"He says the same sorts of things all the time. I think he does it just to make me blush."

"Does he appreciate you?"

Lily sighed, knowing how worried her mother must be. "I think so."

"Well, don't expect me to like him until you can tell me you're absolutely certain."

"Deal."

Her mother added a bit of hairspray and studied the final result. "Am I right, to assume it's too late to talk to you about where this might lead?"

"I don't-" Lily began, but then comprehension dawned. "Oh." She pressed her lips together, blushing furiously. "Yes."

Her mother simply sighed. It was the exact same sound Lily tended to make. "I thought so. That conversation in the yard didn't look like the sort two colleagues would have."
"Do you think Dad knows?" Lily asked, barely a whisper.

"Your father can't see what's five feet in front of him. He knows that boy made you cry. He'll just ruminate on why you'd ever let him in the house."

"Do you think I shouldn't? Give him a chance, I mean."

Her mum kissed the top of her head. "I think you're the only one who can know your own heart. Just remember that you have to take care of all of you. If her hurts your soul, he isn't worth the heartache."