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Disclaimer: Everything you recognise from the Harry Potter world belongs to JKR and her team, I only own the plot.
Snowflake on the tip of your nose
That winter morning, James and Lily were still sound asleep when the door of their room creaked open. A little black-haired boy, dressed in a warm, red onesie embroidered with fluttering golden snitches (courtesy of Minerva McGonagall), slipped in through the crack. Tiptoeing his way to the window, he grabbed the heavy blue curtains in his small chubby fists, and opened them, letting the bright morning sunlight bathe the room in its golden glow.
“Mummy! Daddy!” Shouted 5-year-old Harry excitedly, his piercing child voice breaking the silence and rousing his parents. “Look! It’s snowing!”
Those three simple words immediately convinced Lily to get up and out of bed: saying that she liked snow was a massive understatement. Lily Potter absolutely adored snow. For her, it meant happiness, joy, light, love, friends, and family. Almost as excited as her son now, she picked him up and shoved her still sleeping husband lightly in the shoulder:
“Come on! Wake up!”
The messy-haired young man growled but relented nonetheless. Rushing to the kitchen with Harry still in her arms, she turned the kettle on and took the leftovers of yesterday’s chocolate cake out of the fridge.
“Don’t tell your dad I’m letting you eat this for breakfast,” she said, winking at the toddler while cutting a big piece for him.
Two strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist, hugging her from behind.
“Unfortunately for you, you have been caught red-handed, Mrs. Potter,” whispered James into her ear.
Lily giggled, wriggling her way out of his grasp and grabbing a chunk of the cake, just as the front door swung open and a snow-covered Sirius, closely followed by Remus, entered the house.
“Hey, buddy!” Rang out Padfoot’s voice.
Immediately, Harry sprang up and ran towards the newcomers, flinging himself into Sirius’ arms, his mouth still covered in chocolate crumbs:
“Uncle Moony! Pa’foot! It’s snowing!” He exclaimed, pointing at the window with an icing-covered finger, before jumping over to Remus and hugging him too.
“Well, hello, Black. I wasn’t expecting you here today,” greeted Lily, joining them with a raised eyebrow.
“What can I say, dear Mrs. Prongs, I’m a man full of surprises,” replied Sirius cheekily before planting a kiss on her cheek.
“Oi! Hands off my wife!” Rang out James’ voice from the kitchen as he appeared too, with an elated grin lighting up his face.
“Scourigify,” muttered Remus pointing his wand at the chocolate stains on his cable-knit sweater, before leaning down to hug the red-haired woman. “Pete wasn’t able to make it, but he sent this box of pastries for Harry,” he said handing her a red tin box that smelled deliciously.
“Thanks,” she answered with a smile. “I’m making some green tea, suit yourself.”
The tall, brown-haired man nodded, before disappearing into the kitchen. Next to Lily, James and Sirius were wrapped in a tight embrace, with Harry bouncing up and down eagerly near to them.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t strangle my husband, Black,” she gently chided him before playfully slapping his shoulder. “He’s got many more years left to live at my side, you know. Now, off to the kitchen you two. Harry and I are going to get dressed.”
“May I interest you with my presence? I’m sure we would have loads of fun,” shot back Sirius, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
“There are children here, Padfoot,” groaned James, dragging his best friend behind him back into the kitchen.
Lily rolled her eyes, before grabbing Harry and vanishing in the hallway.
“Incorrigible, the lot,” she thought. They hadn’t changed one bit since their Hogwarts years. It all seemed so long ago now, yet somehow still as if it had only been yesterday when she boarded the Hogwarts Express at platform nine and three-quarters, and walked in on the four of them in one of the carriages, eating the biggest amount of candy she had ever seen. Pulling open the white oak drawer chest in their room, she took out two matching brown hand-knitted sweaters, Remus’ Christmas present. Putting the smaller one on Harry, she finished changing. He looked adorable: the sweater was still a bit large, and the sleeves hung long over his tiny hands, covering them. The black-haired little boy looked up at her adoringly, his bright green eyes shining with excitement.
Hand-in-hand, Lily, and Harry went outside. The porch was decorated with big, gold-lined red bows, Christmas wreaths, and woven holly garlands. The garden was coated in pure white snow, like a thick blanket, which shone brightly in the morning sunlight. The plants and winter flowers were covered in frost, trapped in ice crystals. A thin sheet of ice stretched over the small pond, the shadows of running water lurking beneath it. On a few trees, the naked, snow-covered branched sported multicolored baubles, which reflected light in funky, joyful, patterns. As mother and son walked around the garden, the fresh snow crunched under their feet, their heavy boots sinking ever so slightly into it. Kneeling, Lily started to roll a snowball, which gradually became larger and larger, while Harry watched, his eyes full of wonder and amazement.
A solid hour later, James, Sirius, and Remus came out of the house, just to see a beautiful, pristine white snowman ruling over the garden. His raised bent twig arms were too short, his grin a little crooked. On top of his head, a battered old top hat sat askew, way too small for him. An orange carrot stuck out proudly in the center of his round face. The snowflakes kept on falling peacefully from the sky, twirling through the air before gracefully landing on the ground. Lily’s green jacket stood out brightly against the whiteness of her surroundings, her red hair falling over her face in wet strands. Harry kneeled on the other side of the snowman, warmly bundled up in his little blue jacket, joyously throwing handfuls of snow in the air. A fuzzy Gryffindor hat sat tightly on his head, matching with the redhead’s scarf and gloves. James gazed lovingly at his son and wife, and as she picked him up in her arms and spun him around, his heart swelled just a little more with love, content to see his family safe and happy.
Meanwhile, Remus had settled in a chair, wrapped in several blankets, a heavy leather-bound book resting on his lap. Sirius kissed him briefly on the lips, before running out into the garden, shadowed by James. Nearing the snowman, Padfoot took off his Gryffindor scarf and tied it around the snowman.
“I present to you, Rudolf the Gryffindor snowman!” He exclaimed proudly.
“I’d like to point out that we made it, Black, so the naming right befalls on us,” retorted Lily.
“Rudo’f,” said Harry carefully. “Rudol. Ru-dol-fff. Ru-dolf!”
“See? The kid has good taste, Evans,” smirked Sirius.
“It’s Potter now, Pads,” replied James smugly, wrapping his arms around his wife.
“Sorry, Prongsie, old habits die hard!”
Taking Harry by the hand, his best friend left them alone, probably off to torment his boyfriend. The redhead turned around in his arms, staring into his hazel eyes with her clever green ones.
“You look gorgeous Lily…”
“I know, you remind me of my beauty every day if I’m not mistaken, Potter,” she smirked. “Are you in need of acknowledgment as well?”
“Now, Potter, my god-given good looks are an indisputable truth,” he laughed.
Small snowflakes settled on her fiery hair, getting lost in the dark red locks, each and every one of them different and ethereally beautiful. Her pearly white skin was speckled with little freckles, which James found adorable. A single snowflake fell right on the tip of her nose. With the tip of his finger, he gently brushed it off. Lily raised a questioning eyebrow.
“You had a snowflake on the tip of your nose,” he said softly, before kissing her. It was like their first kiss all over again, soft, sweet, and magical. She tangled her fingers in his impossibly messy hair, while his hands cupped her face tenderly. It was just them, Lily and James, kissing in the middle of their garden next to a snowman, snow falling around them as they remained in each other's blissful embrace.
“I love you,” he whispered into her hair before placing a tender kiss on top of her forehead.
“I love you too, you dolt,” she chuckled.
“That was mean and unnecessary,” he whined, before kissing her again.
“Oi! You two!” Resonated Sirius’ loud voice somewhere far behind them.
A snowball hit James square in the back.
“Get over here! We’re having a snowball fight!”
“Bloody hell, Pads, we were having a moment here!”
“Language, James!”
“Sorry, Lils.”
Sirius was now very carefully aiming a snowball at Remus, who was still engrossed in his book.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Black,” warned Lily.
“Padfoot! DON’T!”
But the snowball was already flying through the air, colliding with the spine of the book, snow flying everywhere and staining Remus’ short brown curls with white snowflakes. He stood up, looking quite pissed, and quietly made his way towards Sirius, who now seemed more than slightly afraid.
“Look, Moony, I’m sorry, I just—”
A perfectly shaped, well-aimed snowball shut him up by crashing right into his face. Suddenly, the garden was nothing more but a giant snowball fight, with flurries of snow flying left and right, punctuated by Harry’s undying, bubbly giggles. The little boy ran around amidst the adults turned back into children, picking up snow, throwing it in the air, watching as it rose high up in the sky and fell back down like powder sugar. All of a sudden, a snowball hit him in the back, sending him crashing forward. He plummeted face-first into the snow, where he lay still, without a sound. Sirius, Remus, James, and Lily all stopped, frozen for a few seconds, before rushing to his side.
“Harry!”
“Harry!”
“Harry! Are you ok?”
The child looked up, pink-faced, white snowflakes coating his messy black hair and long lashes. Slowly rising, he shakily stood on his feet, taking a few tentative steps, and looking up curiously at his mother kneeling next to him. An illuminating smile spread across his chubby face, and he exploded in a fit of laughter, his joyous, childish delight infecting everyone around him, while Lily squeezed him tightly.
“Mummy?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“I want Uncle Pete’s cookies.”
“Anything for you, my little troublemaker,” answered James, coming up from behind them, and hugging them both.