Chapter Text
A trail of white smoke billowed up and away from Lily, evanescing into the snowy clouds until the train was gone and the whole of it forgotten. Well, not wholly forgotten. Lily remembered everything.
She started on the trail back to the castle alone—there were no return carriages, and Severus declined to join in her farewells—and wrapped her thick, black winter school robe around her deep green Muggle peacoat. The first day of winter had not disappointed. Snow had long blanketed Hogwarts grounds, but seemingly overnight it had grown to meet Lily’s knees. She trudged through the pathways made by the carriage wheels, each foot right in front of the other.
This bothered her none. Hogwarts in the snow was beautiful, and without hundreds of students milling about, it was peaceful , the rarest thing.
“Oi, Evans!”
Her heart skipped a beat. She’d played herself with her daydream of serenity, but she swore she saw him get on the train. James plodded noisily through the snow, not bothering to take the path of least resistance, and, with what felt like a fist clenched in her chest, she turned to watch him catch up.
“Wotcher, Potter.”
Lily gave him a two-finger salute, which James returned as he reached her side.
“So, you’re staying.”
“Yep.”
Lily resumed walking.
“I could melt the snow, make it faster.”
Lily’s fingers twitched to her wand with the impulse to turn that spell on Potter. Of course, she wouldn’t. She had control of her impulses, unlike some people she knew.
“If I wanted the snow melted I’d do it myself,” Lily said with a touch of condescension.
“Wow,” James breathed. “I finally get you, Evans. There’s always been something about you I never quite understood, but you’ve revealed yourself at long last.”
Lily let her face drop into a disinterested near-frown.
“Do go on.”
“You like to suffer.”
For a moment, Lily was speechless in her incredulity, turning to give James her most mocking grimace. It only brought an over-sure smile to his face.
“I suppose your data’s skewed since I'm suffering almost every moment I’m with you.”
“Oh, Evans, you wound me. Now we’re both suffering.” He looked happier than she’d seen him in weeks. “At least we have each other.”
Lily’s lips twitched into a smile.
“As the cause and the comfort? Quite an ouroboros we’ve created.”
“You’re so dramatic.”
“I’m dramatic?”
They continued in this way over the hilly road, past the safe edge of the forest, and to the castle doors. A few times they lapsed into normal conversation, but one of them always seemed to have a quip ready. Lily was quite spirited by the end of it, mind buzzing with ideas for comebacks, for ways to trap Potter with his own words; she knew the flush of her cheeks was from the fun of their repartee just as much as it was from the cold.
“Ladies first,” James said, waving a hand to the wide open doors of the Great Hall.
“This doesn’t count as chivalry since the doors are already open,” Lily said, turning her gaze to look up at James as she passed through the threshold a few inches closer to him than necessary.
Without a clever retort from her contender, Lily turned the corner with enormous self-satisfaction. Perhaps too much so, as she overlooked Severus around the way until she was a split second from bashing her forehead into his chin. Lily jumped and let out a small but loud noise of fright.
“Oh, God, Sev, you scared me!”
He put a steadying hand on her shoulder, just as James placed a hand between her shoulder blades. Lily malfunctioned at the disparate experience of each boy’s touch, what was hot and what was cold, did either offer any comfort behind the anxiety of this moment?
“Alright, Evans?”
“Are you okay, Lily?”
As they spoke, the boys’ attention turned from Lily to each other. Her stomach was in her throat, of course, less than an hour into the holiday and she was in the middle of a fight only she could moderate.
“What are you doing with him?” Severus asked in a low, careful tone.
“Walking.”
Oh, the crinkle in his forehead when he glared—Severus was hurt.
“Walking? With Potter?”
Lily knew the derision in his voice was self-defence. It still stung. Behind her, James made a repressed sound, a huff of irritation, or a poorly hidden laugh?
“Who else do you see standing here?” Lily asked cooly, shrugging Severus’ hand from her shoulder. James kept his hand firm on her back, and without Severus’ touch as a balance, it felt too much, too warm, too distracting.
“Well, why?”
“Is that really your business, Snivellus?” James asked.
Lily whipped her head back to face him, snow-dampened hair flying behind her.
“Don’t call him that.”
And James just grinned, like he always did when he got under her skin, not a hint of remorse in his eyes, no, not even a hint of understanding at the damage he did with his clever comebacks and well-timed hexes.
“See you, Evans.”
He gave her a two-finger salute, and in the corner of her eye, Lily caught Severus giving him a single-finger salute.
“Do you have to instigate?” she grumbled. “Come on.”
They walked to the end of Gryffindor table, where no one would bother her for inviting a Slytherin.
“He started it.”
“You started it! We were just walking back from the train station, since you didn’t want to go with me.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
Severus, at least, looked ashamed of his actions.
“Yeah.” Lily sat but took just an apple. Nothing looked appetising. Until forty-five minutes ago she thought she and Severus were the only fifth years staying at the castle, and now James' presence was the hemlock in the Felix. “It’s fine.”
The crackles of the Gryffindor fire sounded louder in the stillness of the common room. Lily had been alone in the common room before, but there was always a sort of buzz of life, the noises of the dormitories, anticipating the creak of the portrait hole, feet pounding up and down the stairs, as students went between rooms.
Lily wasn’t sure if there was a single soul in the tower but her.
This didn’t detract from the homey feel of the common room; it made the occasion special. Lily took two blankets, a quilt, and a large mass of crocheted lions and swords, and sprawled out on the biggest couch to start her annual re-read of Little Women.
She had barely gotten to Jo declaring herself the man of the family—something she giggled at as a girl, but now made her throat tighten—when James Potter disturbed her peace for the second time that day by climbing through the creaking portrait hole.
“Afternoon, Evans.”
“Hullo, Potter.”
Then he did something wholly unexpected.
James walked to her couch, standing at the end where her feet were nestled on a pillow, and asked, a touch sarcastic, “I know it’s cramped, but can I have just a bit of space?”
Lily curled her feet up enough for him to sit and pulled a cushion from the floor to prop her up against the arm of the couch. James was still in his school robes and had turned bodily to face her, his arm slung over the side of the couch. Even confined to the single seat he took up space easily, though this was inevitable, as he’d grown a head taller than Lily since their fourth year.
He smiled at her, now, glass slid down his face til they hit the bump on his nose, hair dishevelled, looking ever so James. The difference was the silence. The stillness, but for wind and ice on glass and the crack of logs and heat. They were alone in a meaningful way, and Lily felt it in her body. A nervous tingle. How could they be just the two of them?
“What d’you want, then?”
“A seat.”
Lily pushed at his knee with her foot.
“This one had been taken.”
“By me,” James nodded and Lily huffed. “What’re you reading?”
“Little Women. It’s Muggle.” She held up the book.
“Is it new? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you read it.”
Lily stifled a laugh.
“Oh, you poor pureblood boy. It’s like a hundred years old, a literary classic. And I read it every Christmas.”
James grinned as she insulted him and leaned further into the couch, making himself comfortable. Lily played with the edge of her shirt sleeve under the blankets.
“You’ll have to let me borrow it when you finish, then.”
“I don’t think you’d like it. It’s just about being a young woman.”
“I gathered.” Lily rolled her eyes at him. “Do you even know what sorts of books I like, anyway?”
“Transfiguration theory. I saw you with Remus’ Lord of the Rings. Fantasy adventure, then? Er, Quidditch books, maybe?”
She didn’t know why she was humouring him. A simple, “When did you learn to read?” would have sufficed. James’ smile didn’t widen, but there was something in the crinkle of his eyes that made it feel stronger.
“That’s true.”
“This is nothing like that.”
He kept looking at her in that way, unyielding yet quietly pleased.
“I’d like to broaden my horizons.”
“Well, fine. Once I’m done.”
“Brilliant. So, what now?” He asked. Lily made a questioning noise. “This is the first time I’ve stayed at Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays,” James grinned. “I’m lost.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I like to see my parents for more than two months out of the year.”
“A rare thing for a teenage boy.” He shrugged. “Why’d you stay, then?” She was aware of the insensitivity of the question; James Potter merely never seemed a person affected by insensitivity. But his face fell, just slightly, and Lily followed quickly with, “I mean, we don’t need to talk about personal topics.”
“Evans.” He knotted his hand in his hair, elbow resting on the back of the couch, looking quite relaxed. “That is the opposite of what I came here to say to you.”
“What?” Lily’s face scrunched, she sat up and pulled her knees to her chest. “This is your common room, too, you didn’t come here for me.”
“I was looking for you.”
“Found me pretty quickly.”
“I’m good at finding people,” he smirked.
Something about the way one corner of his mouth pulled higher when he was being rude, or smug, or generally annoying and so very pleased about it, irritated her to no end. She blinked and flitted her eyes back to his.
“So, you came to your common room, in search of me, to tell me why you aren’t with your parents for this happy Christmas season?”
“I was looking for you,” his voice had softened. Lily twisted a lock of hair around her finger and tugged. “Because we’re the only fifth-year Gryffindors, and I think we’d have a lot more fun spending the holiday together, on good terms, than alone and irritated whenever we saw the other.”
“Which involves personal questions,” Lily said slowly, nodding.
“Conversation, personal questions. Perhaps even friendship.”
“You know Severus is here.”
“I haven’t been Confounded in the last two hours, no.”
“So he’ll be around me. We’re friends.”
“Shockingly, I’ve made the connection.”
“You hate each other.”
“I don’t hate anyone, Evans. It’s like you always say, we’re just people.”
“Last week you were on this couch going on about how much you hate Severus and the ‘whole lot of them’ to Black.”
“Well, Snape turned my hair blonde and it took me the whole day to figure out a counter jinx.”
Lily grinned at the thought.
“I can’t believe I missed that.”
“I hid.”
“Wow, Sev managed to put the great James Potter in hiding?”
James waved his hand.
“That’s beside the point.”
“And the point is?”
“Patience, Evans, I’m getting to it. Give a man a moment to breathe. The point is that I’m proposing we spend the holiday together. It’ll be a bit less lonely.”
The stillness while Lily considered was answer enough. As enjoyable the moments of peace were, a whole two weeks of this would drive her mad. And Severus couldn’t be with her all the time, not in the common room, at the very least.
“I think that’s a decent idea, Potter.”
“A wonderful idea.”
Lily sunk back into the pillow and opened her book.
“Don’t be so full of yourself,” she muttered, hitting his knee with her foot again and flashing him a small, fleeting grin.