It had been six months since they had been wed, and James wanted to give her something that would surely impress her. It had to be something very nice; not too expensive, but not secondhand either. Lily deserved to have a wonderful something that was wrapped in shiny paper and tied off with a big red bow and a gift tag that read:
James
Up until the Christmas Eve of 1979, James thought he knew everything about Lily; her favorite nail polish color (garnet red), her favorite food (Italian), her favorite music group (The Beatles), and her favorite book (To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee). But today, none of those facts were useable. Lily had enough garnet red nail polish to last a lifetime. The Italian restaurant that she loved to go to did not offer gift cards. Her cassette tape collection boasted every single Beatles song ever recorded. A copy of To Kill a Mockingbird was always at her bedside table, ready to be read.
That was why, that morning in 1979, James found himself lying in a creative slump on his bed, staring at the snow drifting outside his bedroom window. Every now and then, a gaggle of carolers would pass by the house that James and Lily lived in; the music of their song drifting up to the second floor windows.
The Christmas carols stressed James out even more. It was like a ticking time bomb that was ready to explode the next morning.
James’ hazel eyes followed the snowflakes path downwards, wandering past the window sill and down the wall before resting on an antique writing desk. It had belonged to Lily’s great grandmother before she had died. Lily treasured that desk very much. It was a handsome walnut table with a single drawer decorated with delicate gold scrolling.
For a second, James shut his eyes and imagined the contents of that drawer. Her diary, a cheap green notebook decorated with cartoon-ish pink roses, would definitely be inside it for sure. Lying beside it would be a sleek and shiny leather case. James concentrated on what was inside the case.
Resting inside would be The Pen. The Pen was a gorgeous, burgundy fountain pen that was a gift from Lily’s father for her sixteenth birthday.
While most people wrote with feather quills, Lily opted for her fountain pen; and that honor was reserved for writing in her diary.
James eyes snapped open and he rose from the bed. He went over to the writing desk, opened the drawer, and drew out the diary. It was just like what he had expected to see; a small paper back notepad with roses on the cover. He snorted in disgust.
“This is the diary for a little girl, not for a grown woman,” James said to himself as he flipped through the pages.
There was nothing written in the diary that indicated what Lily wanted. Her diary simply summarized the day’s events illustrated by little doodles and newspaper clippings. Even if the entries were not much, James felt a little guilty about reading it. It was invading Lily’s right of privacy. Despite those guilty thoughts, he did notice one thing. The book was almost nearing its completion. Another page more and then it will have concluded The Diary of Lily Evans, July 1978 to December 1979.
Ding dong.
James hastily stuffed the journal back in its drawer, closed it, and ran down the stairs to the first floor.
Ding dong. Ding dong.
“Hold your broomstick,” shouted James. “I’m coming.”
He opened the door, revealing his friend, Remus Lupin, who was jamming the door bell at fifty hits per second.
“Hey, James, I’m going out to get some last minute things for Christmas. Wanna come?” Remus asked. He immediately stopped ringing the door bell.
James replied with an excited "Yes," before going to grab his coat and his old Cleansweap Five and running out the door.
It was in an old junk shop that he found The Journal. It was a handsome, burgundy leather bound book filled with thick, cream coloured pages that was worthy to be written on by The Pen.
“That is going to be twenty three galleons,” announced the shopkeeper, a portly man with grizzled grey hair and mutton chops.
James checked his wallet. He only had three galleons, fifteen knuts, some string, and a paper clip. But that wasn’t all that was needed to buy The Journal.
“That broomstick you’ve got,” the shop keeper sneered.
James glanced at his hand. He was clutching his old Cleansweep 5, his most prized possession. He had gotten it on his twelfth birthday, and it had helped him get onto the Gryffindor Quidditch team. It had later led him to the glory as one of the team’s star players. There was no way in hell he would give it up; unless it was for the sake of getting a present worthy for Lily Potter.
“No way, you don’t have to do this,” Remus shouted at James.
He shook his head. “I’ve got to.”
“I’ve got money, James. I could give you some, and you can pay me back,” Sirius shouted from outside the shop. He had joined his friends a little earlier.
“I can’t, okay?” James snapped.
“I’m going out. I don’t think I can bear this,” Remus moaned before running outside to join Sirius.
With tears in his eyes, James gave the broomstick and the money to the shop keeper.
Outside, Remus was leaning his head against the door post, trying his best to not break down in tears while Sirius was screaming, “Don’t do it, damn it!”. Holiday cheer was soon replaced with grief of the loss of a fine broomstick. It felt like being at a funeral for a famous sports star.
“You are the biggest moron I have ever met,” Sirius roared at James as the three friends trudged up the sludgy street in Diagon Alley. “Honestly, you are even more stupid than Regulus- and he joined You-Know-Who’s side!”
James tried to ignore Sirius’ insult. Sirius didn’t have a girlfriend, nor did Remus. They couldn’t understand the wanting to impress a woman that James had. He made a sacrifice to appease that feeling, but it was replaced with guilt. It felt like James had betrayed one of his best friends. However, he also felt a sense of accomplishment. He had finally found a gift that he Lily was sure to love. He couldn’t wait to see the look on her face when she opened up the gift box, and finally laid her eyes upon a diary that she was sure to treasure for a long time.
He just prayed that she wouldn’t notice the absence of his once revered and now gone broomstick.
*****************************************************
Lily got home before he did.
“Oh, James!” she called out from the living room as he entered the house, “I got you something that you are going to love!”
Lily ran into the next room, her hands behind her back, and a huge smile on her face. The lamp overhead illuminated her features, making her look like an angel.
She whipped out from behind an elongated black suitcase with the words "Broomstick Servicing Kit" embossed in gold.
“I knew I should have waited until tomorrow to show you, but I just couldn’t contain my excitement,” she gushed. “That thing you call a broomstick looked like it needed some serious tune-up, so I got this for you.”
She thrust the box into his hand, smiling.
“Um, Lily...” James stammered. He froze in mid-sentence. He wracked his brains, hoping that a brilliant excuse for why he didn’t have his broomstick anymore would come to his mind.
“What if I told you that I didn’t have my broomstick with me anymore? Would you be cool with it?”
The beaming smile on Lily’s face vanished.
“What are you talking about James? If you are going to expect me to believe that little green Martians abducted your broomstick, again, you’ve got another thing coming!”
She raised her fist and shook it in his face. “Remember, I am a purple belt in Tae Kwon Do. I can throw you to the ground in a heart beat!”
James found himself practically shouting. “I traded my broomstick so that I could get you a Christmas present!”
Lily was completely silent as he reached into his coat pocket and drew out the Journal.
Even in the light, the Journal looked old and fragile. It reminded James of that lousy bargain he made.
“I noticed your old diary was close to completion, so I got you a new one,” he said gently. “Something worthy of The Pen, eh?”
Lily broke down in tears. She slumped to the floor, her face covered in her hands.
In just a split second, her anger turned to sadness.
“I sold that pen so that I could get the kit,” she sobbed. “Angelica Henry said she would get her hands on a Servicing Kit; but she said that we had to make a trade. I offered my pen to get it for you!” A tear rolled down her cheek.
James reached down and comforted his wife.
“Shh. Please don’t cry," he told her softly, wiping the lone tear away. What’s done is done,” but at least we have each other,”
“That is the most overrated thing I have ever heard in my life,” Lily said. She sat up and brushed more tears from her face. “But I am glad you said that... I forgot that Christmas was more than presents. I am more than happy to spend it with you.”
“I am glad to hear that,” James replied.
They embraced for a few seconds before Lily broke apart from their hug.
“Hey, James, if you already haven’t blown all your savings on giving me a now-useless Christmas present, can you go to the corner market? I have this weird pregnancy craving for chips all of a sudden.”
“Oh, alright! But before that, let's put away these things. I don’t think we’ll be using them for a while.”
He then embraced her one more time just for the heck of it. The sound of carolers singing drifted into the house. And this time, they no longer served as a ticking time bomb. They reminded James of the more pleasant part of the holidays.