The Hogwarts Express was less crowded than it had been on 1 September, but was nevertheless packed full of people eager to get home for the Christmas holidays. I'd struggled to decide whether I wanted to stay at school for the break or not, but eventually had, at the behest of my cousins and friends, opted to return to Godric's Hollow. So there I was, piled into a compartment with Autumn, Mason, and Rose and Hugo Weasley. Charlie and Scarlett had been with us back at the station, but they slipped away soon after we boarded the train. Their families were going abroad together, and they apparently had some plotting to do.

The conversation in the compartment largely revolved around various plans we had for the holidays. Autumn's siblings were all coming for Christmas, so she was happy that her house would actually be full of people for once. Rose and Hugo and I would, of course, be attending plenty of gatherings hosted by one Weasley or another over the course of the next few weeks, with the actual Christmas day celebration being at the Burrow. Mason and his mum typically went to stay with his grandparents, who had moved to America after the War, but this year they were coming to England, so he'd be around to spend time with and the whole Bones family would doubtless be invited to the New Year's party we'd be hosting at my house.

The train ride was long, and difficult to sit through with the endless possibilities of several weeks without school ahead of us, but somehow we made it to Platform 9¾ without losing our minds. We were out of our seats before the train had come to a stop, and when it had we practically launched ourselves out the door. It was easy to find my family - who else could such a large clump of redheads be but my mum and my uncles? And then, of course, the bushy mass of brown locks was my Aunt Hermione, and the sleek blonde sheet of hair was my Aunt Fluer. And right in the middle of it all, the eternally tousled dark hair that could only belong to my dad. He spotted me first, and the grin that spread across his face made me realize just how much I'd missed him.

I sprinted across the platform, dodging elbows and jumping over the occasional misplaced pet, and tackled my mum and dad in one leap. They somehow managed not to lose their balance, and laughed at my antics as they embraced me. "Godric, Lily," my Dad muttered, "how much taller did you get in three and a half months?"

"Just a couple of inches," I said, smirking. "I think I'll be taller than Al before you know it."

"Oh, I hate this part," sighed Mum, who had materialised at Dad's shoulder.

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

"The part where you come home from school and we find you've grown up," my mother explained, a hint of sadness in her voice.

"What, Lily? Grown up? Don't be silly, Mrs. Potter, there's no fear of that. She can't even write an essay without help-" I shot a cold glare at Mason, who immediately shut his mouth, although his chocolaty eyes laughed.

I glanced at my parents, hoping they wouldn't read too much into his words, only to find Mum's eyes fixed on the boy at my side. Uncertainty wasn't a look I'd often seen on her face, but I saw it now, along with something else that seemed peculiarly like pain.

After a moment of strange, tense silence - well, whatever semblance of silence was possible on a crowded train platform - in which I watched my parents have a conversation with their eyes that seemed to end in my mum's favour, Dad spoke.

"Say, Mason, have you spoken much with your mum lately?" My father's voice seemed unusually cautious, much like it sounded when he was trying to avoid fighting with James, and I couldn't understand why.

"Not really," Mason said, knitting his eyebrows together. "The last I heard from her was when she wrote to say Grandad and Nana were coming. That must have been at least a week and a half ago. Where is my mum, anyways? I thought she'd be here."

"Something came up, last minute, and she had to go to Switzerland for a few days," said my dad, seeming to choose each word with care. "I hope you don't mind staying with us until she's back?"

Mason grinned. "That sounds brilliant!"

Neither of us had any idea how far from brilliant the holiday would turn out to be.

It didn't start out bad, of course. In fact, there were a number of very good things that happened, most of which had to do with my brother. Not Albus, but James, who for some inscrutable reason had written to Mum at the beginning of November telling her he was coming home for the holidays. I wasn't quite sure what I expected from him - I thought perhaps he wanted something, like spending money, or perhaps the newest broomstick, and was going to suck up to Mum and Dad and wave Gryffindor's victory over Slytherin in their faces until they agreed to give him what he was asking for. What I didn't expect was genuine repentance, considering how much gossip I'd heard about him skiving classes and sneaking off with girls in the last few months.

But when James appeared at Dad's side as we exited the station, the nervous expression on his face seemed real. He was twisting his hands the whole way home in the car, and when we got to Godric's Hollow, he pulled aside my parents just inside the door.

I glanced at Mason. "Do you want to take your stuff out to the treehouse? I'll be along in a moment."

He'd been around often enough that he knew a good deal of James' history, so he seemed to understand. He nodded and slipped into the kitchen, headed for the backyard. I, meanwhile, deposited my things on the stairs and slipped around the corner, where I could hopefully hear what was being said without being obvious about it.

"...not what I want to be," James was saying. "I know I've been... well... difficult. I was taking things out on you that had nothing to do with you, and I hope you can forgive me for that."

The sound of rustling fabric - probably my mum hugging my brother. Then Dad's voice. "I know what it's like to be fifteen, James. So does your mum. Don't- don't cut us off, alright? We want the best for you."

"I know," said James, his voice very quiet. Then, I think, it was my dad's turn to hug him. Before anyone came and found me listening, I ducked into my dad's office and out his window into the yard.

Up in the treehouse, Mason had already unpacked, and was sprawled on the sofa, waiting. When my head appeared at the top of the ladder, he raised a questioning eyebrow. "Is everything good? With them?"

I smiled. "Somehow, I think it is."

"Wonderful," he grinned. "So, what shall we do?"

I detected a very slight hint of envy in his voice. Mason would have liked to have siblings, and I think he felt like me and mine were his, but at times it was clear he felt like he wasn't one of us. I shrugged in response to his question. "A board game? Wizard's Chess, perhaps?"

My friend's eyes brightened. "Alright, Potter. If you're set on losing."

Mason was a chess master, and I knew this. But winning made him happy - not in an obnoxious way, just quietly pleased - and seeing him happy made me happier, so I figured it was a good way to set the proper mood for Christmastime.

Rolling my eyes at his smirk, I went to retrieve the board and pieces.

---

That night, we were going to watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Around nine-thirty, I sent Mason down to the house to get snacks. I waited on the sofa, snatching a bit of reading time. A few minutes later, a dark head appeared at the top of the ladder. When he had extracted himself, I realized that it was not Mason, but my brother.

James looked at me, uncertain. "Hey," he said, in a soft, hesitant voice.

I tried to remember the last time I'd had an actual conversation with him, alone. I couldn't. "Hi."

My brother moved towards me, glancing at the sofa. "Can I-"

I scooted over. "Yeah."

He sat down, stiffly. Then he said. "I think you were listening earlier. When I talked to mum and dad. I know because I used to do it too. We're more alike than you'd think, you know. But, anyways- I think you deserve your own apology. I haven't been a good brother, Lily. Not for a long time. You deserve better than that. I've been dealing with loads of shit - sorry, I shouldn't swear - and I-"

"I didn't know that choosing which of your fifteen hangers-on you wanted to snog on a given day was so taxing," I said.

He looked hurt, and irritated. "I'm trying to say I'm sorry, Lily."

"And I'm trying to understand why you can be a douche the whole term and then come home and act the role of the regretful son."

He ran a hand through his dark, unruly hair. Then he put his face in his hands. "There's a lot of shit going on at Hogwarts that you don't want to know about, alright? Trust me on that. I'm trying to get off the fucking train of destruction; I just don't... I can't... This is me trying, Lily. It's the best I can give you. If that's not enough... I'm sorry."

I sighed. "Sorry. I wasn't trying to be mean, I-"

"Don't apologize. I probably deserve it. Just- let me try to make things up to you? Please?"

I looked into my brother's sad brown eyes, and realized how much I had missed him these past few years. "Okay," I said. Then, "Do you want to stay and watch the film with us?"

James stared at me. He blinked. His lips curled up into a fraction of a smile. "Maybe. What are we watching?"

"How the Grinch Stole Christmas."

"You know that's absolute rubbish."

I raised an eyebrow at my brother, not responding.

"Oh, bloody hell... of course I'll stay," he sighed, chuckling. "But only if you promise to watch The Bourne Identity with me tomorrow."

I scoffed. "This is a masterpiece compared to that mess of a film. But I suppose I'll watch it, if you insist."

"Aw, don't be such a downer, Lils. I thought you loved mushy-gushy romance."

"Sure. When it's not a rushed subplot tucked in the middle of a nonsensical action movie!"

"So you don't like Jason and Marie as a couple?"

I frowned. "I didn't say that. They're cute enough."

"So the movie's not a total mess."

"Whatever," I sighed, putting my hands up in surrender.

"Am I interrupting something?" Mason had just poked his head through the trapdoor, tossing a bag of crisps and another of licorice towards the sofa. I caught the food and shook my head.

"Not at all; come on up. James is going to watch the film with us."

"As long as that's alright with you," my brother interjected.

Mason grinned. "The more the merrier."