At Christmas

Lily Evans at Christmas

She couldn't remember, as she sat there on the couch with her glass of eggnog held precariously in her hand, what it was that had possessed her to come home for Christmas break. What had made her think that anything would have improved?

Surely this was the worst night of her life.

Worse even than the first day she'd been introduced to her sister's boyfriend, worse than the day she'd first been called a freak, worse than the day she'd first been called a mudblood. Nothing could compare to the horrible sum of this climax- every day seeing her sister with that disgusting man, every day discovering a new embarrassment she presented for "poor" Petunia, every day uprooting a new story that had been circulating about her, and now this.

Now they were getting married. Not for a few years still, of course, but they may as well have tied the knot this evening, for now his whole family had barged in on her family's Christmas Eve. Now these strangers were tainting her usually untouchable joy on this evening.

She'd borne Vernon and Petunia's looks all through dinner bravely, borne all their whispering stoically, she thought. But when the rest of the Dursleys came over after dinner, her bravery, her tolerance, and her resolve ended. She sat now with only her sister, Vernon, and Vernon's sister, as both sets of parents mingled in the dining room over tea. She sat on this couch near to her tree in her living room in her house, staring at Vernon's chubby and aggressive sister- Marge was her name- who sat in the chair almost directly across from her. Vernon and Petunia were squeezed into one of their largest armchairs, Petunia balanced idiotically in Vernon's lap.

She'd been talked to, in the past five minutes, as though she were a mentally impaired and slightly dangerous inmate who'd been let out of her ward for the holiday, and her sister had not once pulled her face out of or away from her boyfriend's in order to defend her. Marge was possibly- no, she was the rudest girl (woman?) Lily had ever met.

"Oh, really?" Marge had plowed on loudly. "Down at Spinner's End?" She was continuing on the topic of Severus Snape and his poverty, which Petunia had so considerately brought up for discussion. "Not by that whorehouse, I hope. There's such a disgraceful increase in bastard children- you know, whores' children- down there. It's destroying our area's image!" That last comment she directed to her brother and Petunia, but then she turned to face Lily once more. "Yes, that is down by the whorehouse. Do you spend much time down there? You must, I suppose."

It was at this last conclusion that Lily had frozen, half an inch from dropping her eggnog, gaping at Marge, who sat there bold as brass, going on about her experience with "filthy people like that," how it was in their blood, and there was no fixing them.

"What? "

She was surprised at the ice in her own voice, even afraid that some bit of magic might burst out of her.

Marge brushed her offense aside, continuing.

Lily turned to her sister.

"What? " she repeated. Had this woman just pretended to know her social circles, pretended to know anyone down Spinner's End? Had she just implied that Lily was somehow whoring herself out simply by knowing someone who lived there?

Petunia refused to meet her gaze.

"You've never MET me before," she accused Marge suddenly. Marge stopped, looking offended.

"I know enough. One doesn't need a long conversation to gather if someone is-"

"I never thought I'd agree with such a judgmental sentiment, Marge. I must say, though..." Lily felt her fingertips warming, burning. "I should've known the instant you stepped into our house what a horrible person you were." And she walked coldly from the room, down the hall, and out the door (though she did have sense enough to snatch her coat, scarf, and gloves off the wall before leaving).

She'd walked quite a ways, furious in the numbing cold, before she realized that it was Christmas Eve and that she was miserable.

Older sisters were supposed to protect you, not feed you to the dogs. The stupid smug look on Petunia's face as Marge had rambled on kept coming back to Lily. Was she happy to see her little sister endlessly badgered?

She'd been crying so much lately, and she was determined not to cry now. She kicked up some snow. It was a perfect Christmas Eve- snow falling gently over everything. Maybe she'd go down to Spinner's End, visit some of her friends at the whorehouse- if there even really was one down there (which she doubted). Oh, that's right. She didn't know anyone who worked at a whorehouse. Too bad.

She kicked more snow and watched it fly in front of her, sparkling in the street light.

She walked in towards town. It was bustling with last-minute shoppers. She buttoned her grey coat's large buttons up to the top and adjusted her scarf to cover the V of skin that was left exposed on her neck.

A black figure ahead caught her attention, hunched and walking with that familiar gait- twitching slightly and loping.

The old excitement rose in her- the thrill of having someone else "like her" to talk to.

Then she remembered that there were only hours before Christmas Day and that the two of them were probably the only two people in all of town who were wandering aimlessly and alone on this night.

What a terrible idea it was to have magic sprouting up all over the place outside of its own realm. This was all that came of it- people who belonged nowhere, floating lonely through the middle ground.

"Severus Snape?" She'd nearly caught up to him already, since he was meandering along rather slowly, kicking chunks of icicles that had fallen from the rooftops. He turned sharply, looking hopeful and then beamed at her.

"'Lo," he greeted her quietly once she'd stepped right up to him.

"Hello," she answered, wrapping her arms around herself against the cold. "What're you doing out here by yourself on Christmas Eve?"

He lifted one shoulder.

"Dad stormed out, probably went drinking. Mum was crying..."

"You left your mother alone and crying on Christmas?" Lily gaped incredulously.

He looked stung. "Well it wouldn't 've made a difference if I was there," he muttered to the sidewalk, digging his toe angrily into the snow bank.

"Oh, well, I guess you're right," she conceded, not caring to pick a fight. She scooped up a clump of snow, packed it, and began to form it into a perfect globe.

"What about you?" he asked softly, his voice taking on a concerned tone that always frustrated her when she was trying to be angry with him. "I would've thought..." he trailed off, uncertain.

"Petunia's boyfriend and his family got to be too much, so I left."

She could almost hear his thoughts on Petunia and anyone who might like her pile up in his mouth, and then hear him swallow them back down with an effort. Her lips twitched into a reluctant smile- it felt better to smile. She glanced over at him, catching him as usual in an all-out stare. He looked away quickly and jammed his hands deep into his pockets.

"Want to get hot chocolate?" he inquired of a large chunk of ice before kicking it.

She laughed and threw the snowball she'd been making at him. It hit him squarely in the shoulder, standing out against his black coat.

"What?" he asked innocently, a smile spreading over his face. She could hear a laugh bubbling over behind his voice. He scooped up his own handful of snow, which packed easily in his fist, and threw it up over her head. It burst and fell down as a million glittering flakes, all too perfect to be natural.

"Sev!" she gasped as the flakes sparkled around her, falling into her hair and failing to melt. "We're not allowed!"

"They can only trace the spell, not who cast it. If we aren't here when- if- they come check, they'll never know who did it." He gave her one fleeting glance of hesitation before boldly snatching her hand in his. She noticed that he had no gloves as he pulled her off down the street at a run.

They ran through a few small crowds of people laughing and tripping on the ice patches.

"Okay, Sev, okay," she pleaded, pulling back on his hand so that he was dragged to a halt. He bent over, laughing silently (he rarely laughed out loud) and squeezed her hand tightly. One of his fingers moved ever so slightly on the underside of her wrist, where her glove ended. He was feeling bold today.

"Hot chocolate?" he persisted, pointing to a coffee shop only a few feet ahead of them (their destination, actually, during that whole run). Lily laughed.

"Alright, but only because of that whole genius scheme of yours. I couldn't possibly spoil the plan now," she clarified, squeezing his hand in return absent-mindedly. She felt quite comfortable standing there, his cold fingertips on her wrist, his hand tight around hers, the snow falling all around, making everything look softer and cozier. They stepped into the warm, buzzing coffee shop.

Lily scanned the store and was happy to see no one she knew. She didn't want questions or stares. Of course Sev would draw a few looks anyways, but she didn't care about that.

They got into line and Lily ordered two hot chocolates. She paid for them both too quickly for Sev to protest and made sure the boy behind the counter put a pile of whipped cream on both.

Severus eyed his tower of whipped cream topped with pretty little dashes of cinnamon doubtfully as she handed the drink to him.

"It's Christmas, Sev, so yes, you must eat all the fluff on the top as well."

Severus smiled. As they made their way back to a table he licked a gob of whipped cream off the top. Lily picked up a plastic spoon from the counter and began to eat her topping like ice cream once they'd sat down. He laughed at her.

"Mind your own cream," she huffed before surrendering to a smile.

He got a little distracted then, fiddling with something under the table.

"What're you hiding under there?" she teased, craning over the table to try and see. He shrugged and sipped his hot chocolate, sticking whatever it was back into his pocket and blushing slightly.

"There was a really strange woman at the pharmacy yesterday," he began, and thus launched into the story about the poor woman who'd needed the directions on the back of the bottle read to her about five times before they finally sank in. The whole ordeal- the overly stressed old lady and her shaky little voice- had been nothing but annoying at the time, but now it was all worth it, as he managed to make Lily laugh a few times.

"Oh, Sev, you've got whipped cream on your cheek," she informed him now, leaning across the table and brushing her finger over his skin. "There." She smiled and sat back as if he were now perfect. He swallowed his heart quickly back down to its proper place, but the place where her finger had touched his skin was burning.

He poured the last of his hot chocolate down his throat, all in one sip.

"Want to go for a walk?" he asked the moment the cup had left his lips.

"Oh--" she looked a little surprised, "sure, just a minute." She held up one finger as she gulped down the rest of her drink. Having finished, she licked her lips to make sure they were clear of whipped cream. His eyes fell down to them.

She plopped her cup into his-

"Earth to Severus!" she chimed, whisking away both of their empty cups before he could try to defend himself.

She returned shortly, and they headed back out into the snow, pulling their coats around themselves. They wandered back towards the houses, where the only people outside were a few hurried shoppers, running one way or the other.

He stopped abruptly at a lamppost on one of the corners. She turned to see why he'd stopped and almost collided with his outstretched hand, which held a tiny box wrapped in very pink paper with a rather pretty and definitely enormous lace bow on top.

"I got you a present," he explained awkwardly.

She almost laughed at the gaudy prettiness of it, but forced her lips to stay straight.

"Thank you. It's lovely. Did you... wrap it yourself?" That damned smile was now creeping over her face- she couldn't seem to stop it.

"No. I had it gift-wrapped at the shop." A flicker of a smile danced over his face. "It is rather awful, isn't it?"

She laughed and took the box. "No, no, absolutely not. It's lovely, really. I'll just... erm... unwrap it now?"

He nodded quickly.

She carefully took off all the paper and opened the box beneath it all. Inside, on its little cushion, sat a silver-colored necklace with a small group of tiny green flowers dangling from it. The center of each one sparkled in the lamplight.

She had a brief flash of Severus standing in a pretty little boutique, staring at all the jewelry and picking out the one that he thought was pretty enough. She could've hugged him, but she just grabbed his hand.

"Thank you so much. It's the prettiest thing I've ever gotten."

"Do you want to put it on?" he asked eagerly.

"Well... sure, why not?" It didn't really match what she was wearing and it seemed silly to try on a necklace outside with a coat and scarf on, but really she didn't care.

"It matches your eyes, anyways," Severus offered, as though he'd heard her thoughts.

"Right!" she agreed enthusiastically. "I could wear it all the time, with everything, really, if I wanted!"

He laughed at the ground, but said nothing.

She put the box and paper in the pocket of her coat and pulled off her scarf so that she could get the chain around her neck. Her hair got in the way, but with a little trouble she managed the shut the clasp on the back. The chain was made of a wonderful material, thin and light. She arranged the flowers properly, centering the collage under her collar bone.

"Do you like it?" she asked, striking a pose.

He stepped daringly close to her, though he didn't really realize it, so intent was he on giving her an accurate opinion. After a few moments he nodded.

"It's beautiful," he stated simply.

Lily smiled wryly at him.

"That's your professional analysis, is it?"

He smiled.

"Yes-" but then he looked up and met her eyes, and his voice caught unexpectedly. He was awfully close to her. "I got it because I knew it would be..." He grasped for words. She looked down, embarrassed.

"You didn't have to, though."

"Oh, I know. I just wanted to... make sure you knew..." he trailed off again. She was still looking away, a faint blush making her face radiant.

He leaned forward.

Her lips parted as his met them. He kissed them once, his own lips parted then, and he suddenly froze, shocked at what he'd just done, shocked at his own courage and now afraid to move. Their lips were pressed lightly together, mouths partially open, both frozen before some kind of barrier which they'd just sunk part way through. He could have sworn that she was breathing perfectly opposite of him, as though he was breathing for her, and her for him.

At last he dared to take another step forward and to close his mouth on hers. She kissed him back as shyly as he kissed her. Kiss, pause, kiss twice, pause. He kept his eyes closed, let the slow, warm ecstasy of her soft lips fill him up. He even dared to raise his left hand, to let his fingers linger in her blazing hair. Kiss, pull back gently.

His eyes were wider than she'd ever seen them. She could see down to the deep bottoms of them, see his thoughts rushing by them, rippling across the surface.

His hand was still woven lightly into her hair.

"Sev... I'm sorry..."

"It's okay. It was my fault. I just meant to tell you that I didn't think you were a freak. I wanted to give you that necklace so you knew." He pulled his hand carefully from her hair, his fingers sliding gently over her scalp, daring to brush one fingertip against her jaw as he dropped his hand back to his side. "I wanted to wish you a happy Christmas, you know, so that maybe you wouldn't have to be as sad..."

She threw her arms around him. He was startled, but then allowed his eyes to close, since she couldn't see him, and breathed in the scent of her coat and her hair.

"Thank you, Sev. It's the prettiest- the most beautiful thing I've ever gotten." He was unsure, for a moment whether she was talking about the necklace or the kiss. "I'm not sad," she said into the shoulder of his coat. "You've completely made my Christmas."

She pulled back, hands on his shoulders, and opened her mouth to speak. A kind of sorrow flitted past her face. She clutched his shoulders, said nothing, and let go.

Her arms swung slightly at her sides. She reached up and touched the necklace and beamed at him.

He tried to imitate her smile.

She looked around, probably about to leave.

"I'll walk you home," he offered/exclaimed quickly.

"Oh, good. It is a little ways off."

She grasped his hand and they headed down the sidewalk. She squeezed his hand.

He squeezed back.