There was loads to do as a couple around the holidays, James discovered, and he was mighty glad for it. Although it was sad that Sirius and Remus were back at Hogwarts because of Remus's transformation falling on Christmas itself, he was sort of glad that they were kept busy without him there, and it was nice to think of Peter not having to be alone. Really, it had worked out for the best, he reasoned. This would give Peter the company he needed, Remus the safety he needed, Sirius the time to perhaps get over his rift with Peter, and, most importantly James reckoned, because it meant he got to spend a good deal of time alone with Lily Evans. 

"You have to glide, like this... just move your hips," Lily was saying as she slid gracefully across the ice, her skates leaving white tracks behind her on the blue-silver of the frozen water.

"You've known me seven years, Evans, have you ever seen me glide?" James asked, wobbling on the skates.

Lily laughed, "C'mon, you can do this." She held out her hand. "For a kiss?"

Motivated now, James attempted it and his ankles nearly gave out as he tried it, but he waved his arms and somehow managed to stay upright, the skates sliding over the ice, not even close to graceful, but somewhat effective, and he struggled that way across to where Lily was, colliding with her. "There's no brakes," he said.

"The front of the skate... like this," she said, and she quickly skated a circle about him, wide and arching, coming to a stop by using the front of the skate.

James watched her do it, then complained, "Oi, you owed me a kiss. I didn't get my payment for making it over to you."

"Then come over here and I'll give you two," she replied.

"Better not be lying or I'll riot," James muttered and Lily laughed as he struggled over, nearly getting the hang of it, then trying to stop and falling on his arse on the ice, spinning a bit as he landed and sliding toward her, coming to a stop at her feet. He fell backward so he was laying on the ice, staring up at her. "Why must you try to do me in like this for, Evans?"

Lily laughed, "It's fun, you nutter."

"Is that what you call this?" he asked, sitting up and trying at getting back on his feet. The skate kept slipping out from under him, and he returned to his bum twice before finally making it, Lily pulling him up, still gracefully balanced on her own skates. "What'd you do? Put a charm on them or something?" he accused.

Lily shook her head, "No, I've been skating every winter since I was a tiny little thing. Dad used to take me and Tuney when we were really small and we'd dance and pretend we were winter fairies." Lily looked across the frozen pond they were on and sighed, remembering, practically seeing it before her from the memories. It was back when her and Petunia had been best friends, when it had seemed they were inseparable, before she'd met Severus Snape and learned a thing about the wizarding world. Things back then had still been magical, even without actual magic, she thought, and she wished that things with Petunia were different - now, during the holidays, more than ever.

James took her hand. "Evans."

She looked at him, rousing from her memories of the past. "Potter?"

"About those two kisses..."

Lily laughed and gave him his reward and then some.

Later, when James had declared his arse had been bruised enough for one day, they went and got some hot chocolate at a cafe. James's nose was red from the cold and he flapped his jacket to let the heat in as they sat at a booth in the little diner where they'd gone the night James had come to the Evans's house after her dad had died back in fifth year. They were in the same booth and everything, Lily realized, and she smiled at the napkin dispenser, remembering James dismantling the poor thing, trying to figure out where the napkis came from.

"We danced here," Lily said.

James looked at her in surprise. "Yes, we did."

"And you hate pickles."

"Bloody nasty things," James nodded.

Lily stared at the pitiful little Christmas tree in the corner of the room, old and worn out from years of use, with fake wrapped parcels collecting dust beneath it. The diner was as old and worn out as the tree was, with stained grout between the tiles of the floor and a tear in the old leather seat cushion, but it held some sort of old charm that couldn't be denied, with the photographs of famous people who had eaten there, posing with the staff, and the old jukebox, flashing colorful lights in the corner.

The waitress came over and James said, "Coffee for me, please."

"Tea," Lily ordered.

"And a hamburger with loads of chips," James added, "And a chocolate frappe." He paused then, "And no pickles, please."

The waitress was writing all this down, "Anything else?" She looked to Lily.

Lily shook her head, "I'll just steal his chips." She grinned at James.

"Better make it extra chips," James said, laughing. "Oh and do you have some of those... those onions with the crispy outside?"

"Onion rings," the waitress nodded, jotting it down.

"Yes those!" 

"James, you're ordering the entire menu," Lily laughed.

"I'm hungry, we've been in the cold all day." He looked up at the waitress, "Maybe scratch the onion rings. Just make it extra, extra chips." The waitress scribbled out the onion rings and wrote an additional extra next to his chips order and left before James could add anything more to his order.

Lily smiled at him as he nudged the napkin dispenser, having the same memory as she'd done just a few moments before. She kicked his trainer with her own under the table, and he looked at her, and kicked hers back with his lop sided grin, his lip hung up on his tooth. "Hullo," he said.

"Hullo," Lily answered.

James smiled and reached across the table for her hands and she put them in his. He ran his thumbs over her knuckles and smiled as he spotted a small freckle on her right wrist, noticing it for the first time. His eyes moved up to meet hers. "Let's make it a tradition to come here," he suggested. "Every year for the rest of our lives."

"Alright," Lily smiled.

He twisted their fingers together. "Have I mentioned I'm incredibly lucky?"

"Have I?"

James kissed her fingers and released them, seeing the waitress coming their way with their drinks. A coffee, a tea, and a chocolate frappe. She dropped two straws and a spoon for the frappe and turned away, leaving them alone again. James watched her go, then ripped open the straw and stuck them into the thick chocolate. He pushed it toward her, "You want some?"

"No thank you," Lily replied, dropping her tea bag into the tea cup to steep.

James added sugar and cream to his mug of coffee and drank deeply before switching to his frappe, which made a spectacular slurping sound going up the straw, and he laughed at the sound. He ended up sucking up frappe through two straws simultaneously. When his meal came out - piled ridiculously high with chips - Lily stole some and they shared a pool of ketchup, dipping the chips. 

"What's your favorite food?" Lily asked.

"Mum's roast," James answered without even a blink. "She makes this sort of apple-mustard sauce... I know, it sounds nasty, but trust me it's the most incredible thing. It mixes with the gravy and it's just this sweet, tangy... Gods, I can almost taste it." He bit into his gigantic cheeseburger, and the hamburger juice ran out, soaking the bun and dribbling onto the plate and his wrist and he laughed as Lily pulled napkins from the dispenser for him.

"You're so messy," she accused, reaching across to wipe the mess from his skin.

"Thanks," he said. Then, "What's your favorite food?"

Lily thought for a moment. "These chips are definitely climbing the charts."

"They are bloody good chips," James agreed, nodding.

"If you could change one thing in the entire world, past or present, what would you change?" Lily asked.

James stared at her for a long moment. He thought about fifth year, about the time turner and the timelines, about Maryrose and the various things that had happened as a result of all of the insane things that had happened... about the way one action had changed the entire world as he'd known it... one small thing... He shook his head, "Nothing."

"Nothing?" Lily asked, "Nothing at all?"

James shook his head, "Not a single tick."

Ned Veigler knocked on a door at a rank old house. The roof shingles were sparse, completely missing in one spot, where the rain must surely leak into the attic, and it smelled of mildew and damp air. He looked about at the unkempt yard, at the unswept porch. A weathered pink doll house stood on a short table next to a wood porch swing that moved gently in the wind.

The door creaked open after several knocks and a long wait. Mr. Frek opened the door and peered out the crack at Ned Veigler. "What's you be wantin'?" Frek asked, his voice croaked from lack of use and perhaps emotion.

"I've got to talk to you," Ned replied lowly. "It's about... him."

Frek hesitated and then the door closed. Ned Veigler heard locks clicking open and the mumbled release o a protective charm, and the door was opened wide, permitting Ned entrance. He stepped inside and closed it behind him. Immediately, all the locks clicked back into place and he followed M. Frek into a study, where they sat down in two overstuffed chairs, leaving the ornate one behind the desk empty, the place where Garm Tyr ought to have sat down. 

Ned Veigler couldn't help but notice empty firewhisky bottles and sticky glasses with flies buzzing about them that littered the place.

"How are you, Mr. Frek?"

"Seen better days, I have," Frek replied.

"Haven't we all?" Ned said rhetorically, then, "Mr. Frek, I'm very sorry for your loss."

"Me loss," Frek chuckled, "Rich coming from you."

Ned Veigler's eyes gleamed with the pain of the words and he drew a deep breath, trying to stay level. "I'm sorry just the same. Perhaps more so because of... how it happened."

Frek got up and went to a bottle of firewhisky with just a few gulps left in the dregs of the bottle, and he uncorked it and started drinking.

"He said to switch the watches." Ned Veigler said.

Frek choked on the firewhisky and turned to look at Ned, his eyes bright. "What's that now?"

"Switch the watches," Ned repeated.

Frek stared at Ned long and hard. "How's it you be knowin' about that?"

"Garm's last words," Ned replied, "He told me to tell you, he said... he said something about Voldemort, about switching the watches, that the pair of you had switched watches, and he said it was very important that I come to you and tell you to fix it."

Frek put down the bottle on the table and he came back across the room and whispered, "Don't be speakin' his name..."

"Garm's?" Ned asked.

"No," Frek replied, "You Know Who. Uses it, he does..." he looked about, as though expecting something to happen, then paused, "Can trace it, he can, uses it to find his enemies sometimes."

Ned looked nervously about, too, now. "Does he?"

Frek nodded. "Told Messer Garm so hisself, he did."

"Did Garm have many conversations with V-- You Know Who?" Ned asked, his mouth shaking over the beginning of the name.

Frek shook his head, "Jus' a cupple. Tried at recruiting us, he did."

Ned nodded slowly, "And?"

"And Messer Garm played along a bit, thought it might be helpful in trying to round up the werewolves, see, seeing as a good lot of 'em is doin' work for You Know Who."

Ned said, "I see."

"Was how he found out 'bout the watches," Frek continued. "Been You Know Who's obsession, they has."

"What watches?" Ned asked, leaning forward as Frek talked.

"He's lookin' for one, it was made by Messer Mopsus, oh a good long time ago now. Passed down, it was, through a particular family. Has lifetime stored that's mighty important... don't know why or what 'zactly it is all of that means meself, but Messer Garm thought it right important, when he found out who it was that was havin' the watch, he thought it important they ought not to, and we was out in the woods and he found the watch and we switched it so it wasn't vulnerable no mores."

Ned Veigler said, "You found the watch... in the woods."

"Well, yes, sort of, we was goin' lookin for it, of course, but we knew who had it as Messer Garm knew who had it a'fore, see, and a cupple questions and we knew where it was, and Messer Garm didn't think it safe, it was too obvious who was havin' it, see, and only a matter of time... You Know Who had a faithful servant helpin' him find it, and they was havin' the wrong one at first, but that was thanks to Dumbledore makin' a switch, too, but Messer Garm, he thought what Messer Dumbledore's done wasn't good 'nuff, and he says to me, Messer Frek, we needs to go and switch it again. So we finds out the owner of the watch, and we finds out where they've taken it and we waited for just the right time, when the watch was left by itself, and we switched it."

Ned Veigler stared at Frek. "Well where's the watch now?"

"The true watch? He has it hidden a place only me and Messer Garm knows." Frek answered, then, "The fake's at Hogwarts."

"At Hogwarts?" Ned Veigler asked, perplexed.

"Aye," Frek nodded, "With Sirius Black."