Lily collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table a few days later, skin aching from the cold. Still, she was smiling. She had enjoyed the past few days at the Potter mansion greatly; she and Mrs. Potter had put up all the decorations while the boys played chess or Quiddich and Mr. Potter was a work (Mrs. Potter insisted it was much more fun to do by hand, without magic), and now springs of mistletoe, and garlands with everlasting candles set in them and red bows tied to them, decked the stairwells, the hearthstone, around the windows, and a great Christmas tree twinkled at them from the sitting room. Their last project, planting poinsettias about the house (with major heating charms on them to keep them from freezing) had just been completed, and Lily felt as though her nose was about to fall off from the cold.
Mrs. Potter, cheeks rosy, slid into a chair next to her.
“Well, I’m glad that’s done. And we still have a week until Christmas!” she exclaimed, removing her heavy cloak and placing it over the back of the chair. “Now, if only I had something to drink... Mally! A glass of “ never mind. I sent her off to the Diagon Alley for me.”
“I’ll get it,” said Lily, sliding up from her chair and heading towards the cabinet she knew the mugs were in. She felt perfectly at home here.
“Nonsense dear, you don’t need to.”
“It’s the least I can do.”
As Lily bustled around the kitchen making two glasses of hot chocolate (with vanilla, of course), a tawny owl delivering a Daily Prophet tapped at the window. She aimed her wand at window, and with a flick, the window opened enough to let the owl in, then slammed it shut.
The owl flew over to Mrs. Potter, who promptly paid it and let it out again. The scream that issued from her mouth was enough to make Lily spill the drink on the counter, and to send one of the boys flying down the stairs. With a slight curse, Lily cleaned up the mess.
Sirius entered the room, dressed neatly in blue robes, his hair combed straight.
“What?” both he and Lily asked at the same time.
Mrs. Potter didn’t answer. She stared down at the front page of the paper, face pale, mouth open.
“What’s wrong?” Lily reiterated when Mrs. Potter didn’t say anything.
She met Sirius’ eyes, and then he slowly reached out and took the paper.
It’s another attack. Oh, Merlin, I know it is. Please don’t let it be bad... The attacks from Voldemort and his supporters had been coming every few days, some muggles or muggleborns that had been attacked, and even some Ministry officials. Many officials were being tortured or put under the Imperious Curse, as Lily had been. No one ever saw the attacks, or knew who was a Death Eater and who wasn’t. All anyone knew was that if the Dark Mark (a skull with a snake crawling through it) appeared, it had to be bad.
Lily’s fear grew as she saw Sirius’ reaction to the article. He clenched his hands about the paper, knuckles growing white, and seemed just about to rip the paper when he controlled himself.
He silently handed over the paper, which Lily took reluctantly, and then he knelt down to comfort a sobbing Mrs. Potter.
Lily read the headline.
MINITRY OF MAGIC ATTACKED
It was a startling and bold move made, and ended, by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his supporters (who call themselves Death Eaters) only twenty minutes ago. It seemed a peaceful time, many of the Ministry employees making their way home. You-Know-Who stormed the busy Atrium, laying waste to whatever defense that opposed them...
Lily’s heart began to race as she read the article. It was short, badly written, and was bluntly ended with: “It is unclear why the Ministry was attacked, other than to cause damage. Who-Know-Who and his supporters suddenly vanished from the Atrium, leaving behind no dead or wounded Death Eaters for identification. Dead and wounded officials, and of course, the infamous Dark Mark, were all that were left behind. Readers are encouraged to remain calm. Neither the Minister nor his staff were injured.”
Lily dropped the paper and slid a mug into Mrs. Potter’s hands. “I’m sure Mr. Potter is fine.”
No sooner had the words come out of her mouth than there was a pop in the kitchen and there appeared Mr. Potter, looking disheveled. His brown hair was on end, sweat and blood glistened on his face, and he had a large gash on his forehead. His hazel eyes, which usually reminded Lily so much of James’, were clouded and his usually jovial demeanor was gone. Lily liked Mr. Potter very much, as he was just like an older, more tried version of his son, but his attitude at the moment was unsettling.
“Elise,” he said, moving to stand by his wife. She threw herself into his arms.
“Oh Thomas! When I read the article, I thought that “ “
“Shh,” he said, comforting her. “I’m fine. But I have to go back to the Ministry and help sort some things out.”
He smiled at both Lily and Sirius over his wife’s shoulders but asked gravely, “Where is my son?”
“He wasn’t feeling too well, so he was lying on his bed last time I saw him,” Sirius responded.
Mr. Potter nodded and helped his wife back to her chair. “Now, I must get back to the Ministry, and I’ll be late. Don’t hold diner for me. Sirius, I understand you have an appointment with your Uncle this evening?”
Sirius nodded.
“I want you to go there and straight back, if you please. I have to go now... by the way, Lily, the decorations look wonderful.”
And with another pop, he was gone.
After he had gone, Mrs. Potter went off to her room for a lie down, without ever taking a sip of her drink. Sirius squeezed Lily’s shoulder in a comforting manner and apparated away. Lily sighed, alone. She decided to see if James was feeling all right.
She brought both still steaming mugs of hot chocolate up to his room and rapped on the door. No answer, he might have been asleep. Deciding to leave the drink on his beside table, she opened the door, only to find James wasn’t in bed.
His window was open, and the cold gusts of air blowing in were enough to extinguish the fire in his fireplace. With a pang of realization, Lily realized where he had gone. She shivered, levitating the mugs carefully before her, and climbed out of the window, thankful she hadn’t taken off her winter cloak and taking time not to squash the garland.
She saw him, leaning up against the chimney with his arms crossed, and staring across the woods. She could barely see him through the gathering darkness.
James was snatched out of his reverie by the scent of chocolate, and a waft of warm steam hitting his face. He glanced down, and noticed a mug floating in the air. Smiling, he took hold of the handle and turned around. Lily was standing there, looking at him quizzically.
“So you found me,” he said, sliding down so that he was sitting on the slanted roof. He took a sip of the drink and with his other hand patted the space of tile to the right of him.
She took the seat. “Sirius said you weren’t feeling well.”
“Just a headache, but I feel better now.”
“Good,” she said, a blast of white mist coming from her mouth as she did so. She shivered, slightly, and wrapped her arms around her legs.
James tentatively draped his right arm over her shoulders. When she didn’t resist, James pulled her closer to him. He had found that ever since she had come to him that night, he had craved for her touch and closeness. And ever since that night, she had been willing to give it to him. He had a nervous feeling in his chest, and was sure his heart was racing, but it was a good feeling. If he didn’t know better, he’d say that he -
“There was another attack today,” she said, effectively erasing most of the positive feelings he was having.
James sighed and furrowed his eyebrows. “What did he do this time? Murder more innocents? Torture some undeserving muggleborn?”
Lily tensed beside him. “He set the Dark Mark over the Ministry,” she said, knowing he understood the implications of that.
James gasped in alarm, a thousand unpleasant thoughts running through his mind. “But... my father? The minister?”
“They’re all safe. Your dad came by for a minute to tell us he was fine but that he had to go back to the Ministry.”
“He came but didn’t see me?” asked James in a bitter voice.
“He asked about you, but Sirius told him you were lying down,” she said in a soothing voice.
There was an awkward pause.
“Your mum and I finished decorating today,” she said for a change of subject, looking up into his eyes.
“I know. The house looks fantastic,” said James, setting his mug gently down on the roof and shifting his left hand over to stroke her cheek.
She closed her eyes, enjoying his touch, when some sudden and overwhelming desire hit James. He lowered his head and touched his lips to hers softly, and her eyes fluttered open for a second. She reached around to run her fingers through the hair on the back of his head, and James melted. He lowered his head again, pressing more forcefully, more passionately, against her lips, and to his delight, she was kissing him just as passionately in return.
James cupped her face with his left hand and lowered his other arm down her back, feeling her in a way he had never been permitted to feel her before: with an intimate touch. He didn’t even realize he had laid her back onto the roof until had had already done it. He regretfully pulled back, still half holding her, and he just looked at her.
“That could keep a man warm on a cold winter night,” he said, joking.
“James,” she said, smiling. “That... I... we...”
He smiled as well. “I have been hoping for that for the last six and a half years.”
“Was it worth the wait?”
He answered in another kiss. They were about to get back into it again when she pulled away.
“What did I do?” he asked, hoping he hadn’t offended her.
“James... we have to move slowly, all right? I don’t want to take things too fast.”
He considered her words. “Agreed,” he said. “But on one condition.”
“And what’s that?”
“You have to go out with me.”
She laughed and snuggled up against him. “James Potter, we have an agreement.”
He could have died right then and been the happiest man alive. They got settled down, comfortably enjoying each other’s company, dreading the moment when James’ mum would call them away to dinner.
They had been sitting there quite a while in the dark before Lily spoke.
“James, the last night of term at Hogwarts, after... the incident...”
“Yes Lily, what about it?”
“You said something as you were, were holding me.”
James said nothing, waiting for her to continue.
“You said that Who-Know-Who “ “
“Voldemort, Lily,” James pressed firmly. “Don’t be afraid of him.”
“Well I am,” she replied simply. “Anyway, you said that He made you watch as he attempted to destroy the one thing that you.... that you what? You never did finish that sentence.”
James heart was beating uncomfortably fast by this point. What if he told her how he felt, and it just scared her away? He took a calming breath, kissed her forehead to buy some time, and decided to tell her the truth.
“Lily, you know I’ve liked you for ages. But lately, the feeling has intensified tenfold. I’m not saying this to force you to say it back to me; in fact, I never want you to say it unless you mean it. And I hope that nothing between us gets akward because I admitted this, but... the other night... I was going to say that Voldemort was trying to destroy the one thing that I care about more that anything.
I love you, Lily.”