A/N: Not hugely seasonal, but it'll have to do. Enjoy Easter people!

Christmas

'Well, Henry, what did you think of him?' Cynthia Evans asked later that evening as she brushed her hair before bed.

'I'm not sure about him. He's a darn sight better than Vernon. He seemed decent though, well brought up; but he avoided an awful lot of questions.'

Cynthia sighed and turned round, 'Darling, you just about had him pinned to the wall with all of your questions. I thought he seemed like a nice boy.'

'You said that when you met Dursley; I'd still say there's something off about him. He seemed alright in my book though.'

'Well?'

'Well what?'

Sirius rolled his eyes, 'How was it? What were they like? Did her Dad ask you what your intentions towards his daughter were?'

James' parents weren't back yet and though they had been invited to go along, Sirius and James weren't inclined to stand around with a bunch of boring, bureaucratic adults.

James shrugged, 'They were alright, her Dad was a bit nosy, but I kind of expected that. Oh, and he wouldn't leave us alone for two seconds, but her Mum seemed nice.'

'And the sister?'

'On holiday with her fiancée; he sounds like a barrel of laughs though,' James grinned, 'Hope I get to meet him.'

Sirius raised an eyebrow, 'That good?'

'Yeah, even her Dad basically said he was a pompous arse.'

Sirius grinned back.

A female voice floated along the corridor, 'James? Sirius? We're home!'

Christmas passed in a welter of arguments, excitement, snow and presents.

The snow fell on Christmas Eve; starting late in the afternoon, it drifted down from the soft grey clouds, first a few flakes at a time, then thickening as the sun began to set. When Lily went to lock the front door that evening she opened it and looked out into what seemed to be a ghostly white world that was slowly filling up with snow.

She'd been arguing with Petunia and her parents about Vernon coming over for Christmas lunch and was not happy to hear that he would be coming whether she liked it or not.

She desperately wanted to see James again; arguing with Petunia was never easy and now she just wanted to curl up in his arms. Of course, Petunia had found out that she now had a boyfriend, and had been making jibes about him ever since she had got home.

'How's the other freak?'

'Is he not writing to you? He must have forgotten about you.'

'If he's got any sense, he's probably found a new girlfriend.'

'I'm not surprised he hasn't written; you're probably more freaky than all the rest put together.'

It was true, James hadn't written to her, but then she hadn't written to James. They were only apart for a week or so, and the idea of it hadn't bothered Lily; a week wasn't a long time.

When it came down to it though, each day dragged painfully; full of building Christmas tension and Petunia's horrible little remarks. Despite her previous convictions and telling herself that Petunia was just trying to wind her up, she began to worry again.

Lily stared at the huge, thickly falling snowflakes and closed the door against the cold. She was only wearing her pyjama bottoms and t-shirt after all; she turned, went upstairs and climbed into her bed. She lay under the duvet for several minutes, then she shuffled back out from under the covers and went across to her trunk that was lying in the corner of her room.

She opened the lid and shuffled through the clothes she hadn't unpacked yet. There, under several skirts was a jumper of James' that she hadn't given back after they had been for a walk round the lake when it was cold.

It was cashmere, it was warm and it smelt of him. She slid off her t-shirt, feeling the cold air round her chest before she pulled on the jumper. The wool-like material was soft, but slightly itchy; she didn't care though as it grazed gently against her shoulders and breasts. The sleeves fell round her fingertips, and the hem was definitely past her waist, but she slid once more beneath the covers and balled the excess sleeve length into her fists. She curled up under the duvet, surrounded by his smell and pressed her fists against her nose, breathing deeply to inhale him.

She knew still that he wasn't all hers; he was still keeping something distant, but right now she didn't care about that. She could smell him here beside her, and if she closed her eyes, she could imagine his arms around her. She fell asleep like that, dreaming dreams filled with burning looks and his smell round every corner.

'MERRY CHRISTMAS!'

Thud

Something cold, wet and decidedly indecent landed on James' face, followed shortly by, 'ARGH!'

'Merry Christmas to you too, Padfoot,' James said, rubbing melting snow out of his eyes and shaking it out of his hair.

He looked down at where Sirius was struggling out of the magical snowdrift under the window and sliding on the icy floor James had created before he went to bed the night before. He surveyed Sirius regally, then reached for his wand and vanished the snow, returning the floor to its usual thick, plush carpeting. Sirius scrabbled to his feet, grinning, 'How'd did you know?'

'You did exactly the same thing last year, and the year before; I just didn't feel like letting you off this time.'

Sirius' grinned widened and he bobbed his head in acknowledgment.

'Presents?' he asked, eyes shining with anticipation.

'Yup.'

James heaved the covers aside, found some pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt and followed Sirius in bounding along the corridor and down the stairs.

'Here come the rampant lions!' Charlus Potter called to his wife from where he was viewing the snowy garden through the French windows in the living room, cup of tea in hand.

'Merry Christmas Dad! Merry Christmas Mum!'

Dorea Potter appeared from the kitchen as they flooded down the hallway; Sirius grabbed her in a hug, kissing her soundly on both cheeks and saying, 'Merry Christmas, Mrs Potter!'

'Thank you, Sirius! And the same to you!' she replied, giggling like a teenage girl and a few wisps of greying hair escaped from the unruly bun at the back of her head. It was easy to see where James got his ridiculous hair from.

He reached the living room, and approached Charlus, holding out a hand to say, 'Merry Christmas, Sir!'

'How many times do I have to tell you…' Charlus said, shaking his head and Sirius hand, before pulling his surrogate son into a warm hug, 'And a Merry Christmas to you, old boy!'

They turned to look at the tree; a pine leviathan from the forests of Scotland, glistening with gold and silver baubles, crystal snowflakes, fairies glowing in the depths of the spiny leaves and dusted with magical snow. In the place of a star or a fairy, at the very top, the little yellow jobberknoll that usually lived in the kitchen perched in pride of place and gazed serenely down at them all, as if daring them to say it wasn't supposed to be there.

Best of all, though; to James and Sirius, were the presents. Although not stacked high in piles or heaps, they were there and they could already tell that each had been chosen with thought and care.

But before they launched themselves at the presents, Charlus Potter was to go through a ritual that had occurred in James' family as long as he could remember. Charlus' two elder brothers; Jacobus and Thomas had all been Aurors once, during the dark days of Grindelwald's reign over much of Europe. The eldest brother, Jacobus, had fallen in love with a French witch and moved to France before Grindelwald rose to power. He had died on the night of the fourteenth of August, nineteen forty-two, defending his young wife and his home when he refused to join the ranks of Grindelwald's followers. On hearing the news the younger two brothers had immediately resigned their Auror commissions to go to the continent and fight.

The middle brother had died on Christmas day, nineteen forty-four, during the Christmas Truce of the Muggle World War. Charlus and Thomas had been staying behind Allied lines, looking for information on the whereabouts of Jacobus' killers, when they were ambushed in the small French town of Chartres. Thomas had died so his younger brother could escape and avenge both his brothers' deaths.

So today, on Christmas Day, Charlus Potter always remembered his brothers' sacrifices. He brought out a bottle of Nineteen Forty-four, Alexandre's Ambrosia Armagnac from a drinks' cabinet disguised as a world globe, and poured four measures into four crystal glasses. He handed them round, looked down into the amber liquid of his glass for several long moments, swirled it and then lifted it in a toast, 'To those who cannot be with us.'

'To those who cannot be with us.' His wife and the boys echoed, draining their glasses.

His sombre face faded with as the warmth of the brandy spread through his stomach and he smiled, 'On to happier things then, I believe it's time for presents!'

James and Sirius crouched beneath the spreading branches of the tree to hand out presents as they checked labels.

'Oh no; you shouldn't have! Is this even out yet?' Sirius blurted out as he unwrapped the new Oakshot 2 broomstick James' parents had bought him, 'The other one's perfectly fine!'

'James said it was a bit slow on the acceleration; said it cost him a broken bone in your match against Slytherin. So I gave my old friend Lazenby the nod and he got me this for you.'

'But it's not out till March!' Sirius protested.

'Perks of the job,' Charlus Potter winked at him, 'Oh, wow, James; this is fantastic!' He just pulled the ribbon off a large parcel and the wrapping fell away to reveal a fully functioning model of the solar system. James' Father had recently become very interested in the planets, buying several telescopes and turning one the upstairs rooms into a sort of miniature observatory.

Immediately he started prodding the planets about with his wand, like a young child until his wife tutted at him and handed him another present.

'Oh, Sirius, this is marvellous,' she said as she unwrapped a necklace.

'It's made from Chameleon Coral,' he explained, 'It's more of a summer thing really, but if you leave it beside a dress you want to wear for a day or so before you wear it, it'll change colour to suit the dress.'

'How wonderful!'

Lily went to bed early on Christmas Day; Vernon's presence hadn't made anything better than it usually was, her mother had ended up in tears after the young man had left as Petunia and Lily screamed insults at each other. Her parents had bought her some lovely new clothes, and a beautiful dress she thought she might wear while she was at James'. It was more of a formal dress, but it was so lovely that Lily just felt she had to wear it as soon as possible.

To tell the truth, she didn't think she could wait till tomorrow to see James. She knew she would hardly sleep tonight, but she went to bed early anyway; mostly to get away from Petunia who never came in Lily's room. Not since Laura's owl, Flummox, had delivered a letter while Petunia was stealing one of Lily's blouses; Lily had heard the screams from the garden.

She slept fitfully; too much Christmas pudding weighing in her stomach and wishing for sleep that would not come.

Even after a day of presents, excitement, snowball fights, chasing the Crups round in the snow, while the Jarvey called ribald and inappropriate commentary from under the rose bushes, a feast of a Christmas dinner, including champagne, wine and brandy afterwards. James was physically tired but his brain was buzzing as he collapsed into his bed, knowing that tomorrow Lily would be here, in his house.

He thought of his parents downstairs; cuddling together on the sofa in front of the fire, listening to Ben Fuller's 'Magical Christmas' on the wireless. He wondered if he'd be like that when he reached that age and he wondered if it would be Lily he'd be cuddling.

James woke with a start, breathing heavily as the dream vanished in wave of adrenalin that left sweating beneath his twisted duvet. He'd been falling, and he had shouted, scrabbling through his pockets for his wand as the ground rushed towards him. Some instinct had told him Lily wasn't there.

His breathing was ragged in his ears as he reached for the glass of water by his bedside. Oddly, his eyes seemed to be watering and suddenly remembered what day it was. It was Boxing Day and that meant…