Christmas

Seventh year

"MERRY CHRISTMAS, JAMES!"

James woke up groggily to find Peter bouncing excitedly on the foot of his bed.

"Geroff, Wormtail…" he mumbled. Then his eyes sprung open.

Christmas!

He rubbed his eyes quickly, slipping on a pair of discarded shoes by his bed. This Christmas holiday, many seventh years had decided to remain at Hogwarts – by many, he meant about ten people, rather than the usual two or three – as it was high time they began revising for their N.E.W.T.'s. Naturally, none of them had even touched a book in order to revise yet, nor would they.

James headed downstairs to the Great Hall after opening the stack of presents heaped at the end of his bed, to find some of the students already downstairs, the majority of them still in their pyjamas, chatting animatedly to one another mainly about what they had received.

"Prongs!" Sirius and Remus looked up from where they were sitting, trying to teach a tiny model of Santa Claus to dance. James grinned and headed over to them, Peter scurrying behind him.

"Thanks for the presents," said James. "Any luck with him?"

Remus nodded enthusiastically, nudging the Santa Claus. "We've got him to tap dance – look!"

And sure enough, the little Santa Claus began to click his heels quickly down on the tabletop, spinning in circles and making extravagant movements with his chubby arms. James laughed; Peter followed his lead, sniggering quietly away.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, James caught sight of Lily, who had just entered the Great Hall, looking around for a familiar face.

"Won't be a minute," said James, his eyes fixed on her, and left the Marauders oohing behind him.

She smiled as he approached, and he saw with a pleasant surprise that she was actually wearing the necklace he had given her.

"Hello, Head Girl," he said. "See you've got my present."

"Thank you," she replied, her hand instantly moving to touch the small golden stag that hung there. She did not know of its significance, but it still made his heart swell to see it around her neck. "It's beautiful."

"Oh, it's nothing," he laughed. "You haven't stayed behind for a Hogwarts Christmas before, have you?"

"No," she said. "I always go home. But I thought, you know, it was my last year and–"

"Not because of N.E.W.T.'s?" he asked, surprised.

"That's the excuse I gave my parents," she said. "Actually, I was just curious to see what goes on."

"Nothing really goes on," said James. "It's quite laid back, really."

"I see," she said, her eyes widening as she took in every decoration. Then, suddenly, "I'm sorry that I haven't got you anything, but I didn't think you were–"

"Going to give you anything?" said James. "Well of course I was. You're my fellow Head!"

She looked somewhat upset by this. "I feel so guilty…"

"No," he said hurriedly. "Don't be. It's fine. I…"

He broke off as he felt something tickling the top of his head. Both he and Lily glanced upwards in unison, to see the angel that was perched above the entrance of the Great Hall every year holding an enormous sprig of mistletoe over them.

"Go on," encouraged the angel. "Kiss her! Kiss her!"

"I…" James had no words to express the feeling of nervousness that had suddenly crept over him. He suddenly felt the weight of the gazes of every student in the Great Hall upon them, and Lily… she didn't like him, not in that way. She had expressed herself on that subject profusely enough countless times.

"Oh, come on," grumbled the angel. "This mistletoe is heavier than you think. Just hurry up and bloody kiss her!"

"How romantic," muttered James under his breath.

He turned to look at Lily, whose face was now reminiscent of one of the Gryffindor colours, and in whose eyes he saw reflected his nervousness, his awkwardness.

Merlin, he was nothing like he used to be.

If he had still been the James Potter of the past, he would have swooped in with a cocky grin and kissed her hard on the mouth. But the thought of doing such a thing now… well, it terrified him. He swallowed.

"Will you hurry up?" the angel half-shrieked.

Not allowing himself any more time to think about it, he moved quickly, and grazed a light kiss on her cheek. When he drew back, she was staring up at him with an unreadable expression, and her cheeks – if it were possible – were even darker than before.