A lil' short..

The Monday before Christmas, the castle was suddenly flushed of a great majority of its students, who were returning home to their families for the holidays. Lily spent Sunday evening with Emmeline, helping her pack while her best friend talked happily of her return home, and of the day in London she and Benjy had planned together, the day before their return to school. Lily listened patiently, exclaiming at all the right moments, and was cheerful enough for Emmeline to miss the secret longing hidden within Lily's almond-shaped eyes. James, on the other hand, hadn't missed the arrival of a letter just before lunchtime, nor Lily's deeply saddened reaction. Her mother, the letter said, was feeling rather ill, and her father thought it might be best for Lily to stay at school that Christmas. James had given her a weak smile, and grasped her hand.

"Don't be so sad, Lils. The lads and me are all staying. You won't be lonely."

"You're not going home to a family who wants you there?"

James had shrugged, pulling her into a hug. "Dad will be working all holidays anyway. Besides, this is the last chance for Marauders to wreak havoc on Hogwarts over Christmas. Do you really think we'd miss it?"

Lily had laughed quietly. "No, I suppose not."

James had then pulled away and peered down at her, smiling. "I'm glad you're staying," he confessed.

Lily and Emmeline finished packing, and moved down to the common room, taking the comfy armchairs by the fire just as three fourth years vacated them. James sat with the Marauders across the room, and had found it impossible to miss Sirius' unblinking staring toward Miss Vance.

James nudged him gently. "Oi."

"Oi what?" Sirius asked crossly, tearing his eyes away for a moment to glare at James.

"Stop staring at Em."

"Was not," Sirius responded softly, and excessively childishly.

'Were too," James retorted, a smile playing around his lips.

Sirius stood up abruptly. "Fancy a trip to the kitchens, Prongs?"

"I do!" Peter replied eagerly, while Remus kicked him.

"We're staying here," Remus told him, smiling painfully at James.

James frowned, not wanting to leave any of his friends behind, but Remus merely shrugged.

"I'd like a chocolate muffin, if it's not too much trouble," Remus added.

Sirius smirked. "Oh, I bet you would, wouldn't you, Moony?"

James rolled his eyes and roughly dragged Sirius away, pausing by the fire and smiling at Lily and Emmeline.

"Fancy anything from the kitchens, girls?"

Lily smiled and shook her head, although Emmeline requested a pastie, smiling sweetly at them both all the while.

As soon as James and Sirius left the common room, James heard Sirius sharply expel his breath. Crossing his arms, the Head Boy raised his eyebrows.

"Is it really that hard to be around her?"

Sirius sighed. "Yes," he replied, sounding miserable. "Pete and I could form W.A.L.E - the "We All Love Em" fan club. It's bad, Prongs. You have no idea."

James scoffed, and rolled his eyes. "You seem to forget that I've fancied Lily for years."

Sirius shot him a look of disbelief. "But that's completely different!"

James frowned, falling silent as they continued their way down the school. It was rather late, although not quite curfew, and there didn't seem to be anyone else about. It was strange, to have the school so deserted, but at the same time it suited his purposes perfectly: namely, it was empty enough to hold a private conversation without being overheard by anyone but the portraits. And, as Peter had always said, rather darkly, 'The portraits know everything, anyway."

"How?" James asked finally, as they made their way down the marble staircase into the Entrance Hall. "How is it any different?"

"Because everyone could see that you were going to get your happy ending. Not me, Prongs. The Black family doesn't do happy endings."

James opened and closed his mouth, surprised, and found that for once in his life he couldn't offer his best mate any comfort.

"You're not much of a Black, anyway," James said eventually. "Always gone against tradition. Plus, you're a Marauder. Doesn't that count for anything?"

Sirius seemed to consider that, pushing open the door and entering the cheerfully lit passageway that led to the kitchens.

"Marauders do the honourable thing," he said finally. "And the honourable thing, for me anyway, is to do nothing, Prongs. Emmeline's happy, and last time I interfered I messed things up."

James grinned, remembering the sound of Emmeline's cauldron contacting with Sirius' head.

"Besides," Sirius added. "I am a Black, as much as I want to ignore it. I'm as stubborn, bitter and cynical as the best of them. So I think I'll just sit back and let her go, thanks very much."

"And you won't sit there and moan about your long suffering love?"

Sirius gave a bark-like laugh suddenly. "Hardly. I had to listen for you for long enough, you've thoroughly put me off pining. Although I can't speak for Pete."

James shrugged as they reached the entrance to the kitchen. Carefully, he extended a single finger and tickled the pear.

"Peter's always been all talk anyway," James said lightly. "I wouldn't worry."

The pear became a handle, put James hesitated. "Sirius?"

Sirius looked at him, surprised by the tone of his voice.

James smiled, reassuringly. "Just wanted you to know I'm proud of you, for putting Em first, and all that."

Sirius grinned and rolled his eyes. "Don't give me that, Prongs," he protested, although secretly pleased. "Besides," he added offhandedly, although his eyes were serious, "I had a good teacher."

In the ensuing days, with the castle so empty, Lily seemed to move about it in a daze. It wasn't that she had never stayed at Hogwarts over the holidays before, and more so that all her previous Hogwarts Christmases had been celebrated by choice. On the other hand, it was lovely to be able to take a break from patrol duties, and Lily could quite easily source out a cozy corner in the library in which to sit and immerse herself in a book without any interruptions…. Well, almost.

"You feel like a walk?"

Lily glanced up from her book, startled, to meet the hazel eyes of her wild-haired boyfriend. She nodded. "Sure."

Carefully, Lily bookmarked her page. James watched, faintly amused by Lily's obvious reverence.

"Cloaks?"

"Of course."

James took her hand as they wandered through the school, making Lily smile at the simplest of gestures.

Without the usual crowd of students, the grounds too seemed to be flourishing. The snow lay across the rolling hills largely untouched, except for the deep footprints that led down towards Hagrid's hut. James and Lily followed them, laughing as they leapt from hole to hole. The fun ended abruptly for James as he lost his balance, landed face first in the snow and decided that it was so cold he didn't fancy repeating the experience.

Lily laughed to hard that it was some time before she offered to help him up, a small, cheeky smile on her face. With a sympathetic wave of her wand, he was completely dry again.

"You amaze me," he murmured gratefully as they resumed their walk.

It might have been the cold air whipping colour into Lily's bright pink cheeks, but James didn't think so. Her emerald eyes were large and bright in her little, flushed face, and her hair set the snow on fire, spilling down her back in rich red waves. Feeling suddenly compelled, James cleared his throat.

"Lily?" he began. "You know when I said I loved you?"

Lily raised her face to look at him, eyes glittering with mischief. "You lied?" she prompted.

James frowned, confused, until he recalled that they had been his exact same words only a week before. He grinned then, and rolled his eyes. "No," he told her, deliberately emphasizing her silliness.

"It's more… That I want you to know that this is so real to me, Lily. It's not just some childish thing we have going on. Well, I mean, I don't know how you feel, but I know that…"

He broke off, running his hands through his permanently ruffled black hair, and looking thoughtful. Lily watched him, patiently waiting for him to continue. He was almost a good foot taller than her, she realised with surprise as she gazed up into his face. His left hand was now fingering the bridge of his long nose.

"I just want you to know that I'm in this for the long haul, if that's what you want."

Lily blinked, eyes still intently focused on James' face. It was his turn to colour under her gaze. Nevertheless he didn't break eye contact, and Lily felt her stomach flutter as he grinned. He was what? She smiled weakly back.

"What do you mean?"

James shrugged, casually draping an arm around her and resuming their walk. "Nothing important," he told her. "At least not yet, anyway."

"James."

He detected a warning note in her voice now, and she tried to pull away from his arms.

"You can't just go all serious and then not explain yourself," she accused, gloved hands planted on her hips.

"Can't a guy be mysterious?"

"Not my guy."

James blinked, once more surprised, and then smiled ruefully. "This is going to sound rather silly," he warned her gruffly.

Lily shrugged, and cocked her head to the side, waiting. James sighed.

"Well, Miss Evans, the fact of the matter is that I have the full intention of marrying you one day."

Lily squinted up at him, her face inscrutable. James waited, twisting his free hand behind his back, the only betrayal of his nerves that he would allow.

Lily finally nodded. "Good," she said, and resumed walking toward the lake.

James watched her, confused. Now what did 'good' mean? Lily turned, still moving toward the lake, to beam at him.

"Are you coming or what?"

But she wasn't going to have to wait very long: James was already running. He caught her in a hug, so fiercely that Lily, who had still been walking backwards through the snow at the time, toppled backwards, landing beneath James with a small squeak.

Hogwarts became increasingly festive toward the end of the week. Floating balls of mistletoe seemed to zoom out of nowhere to drift above Lily's head whenever she was with James, and when she wasn't with James, she was invariably attacked by sprigs of holly trailing delicate little snowflakes that settled in her hair and refused to melt. The portraits were all getting into the swing of things, and held wild, raucous parties fuelled by spiked eggnog late into the night. But no where, it seemed, was exuding a more festive spirit than the kitchens – at least, according to the four boys who seemed to be spending an awful lot of time down there.