Starman

January 30th 1972

Amalia crept up to Marlene’s bed, leaning down to whisper, “Wake up,” as she gave the snoring girl a gentle shake.

Marlene did not wake. Instead, she mumbled something incoherent and rolled over, still fast asleep. Amalia sighed, already regretting not waking Mary first—she could have used backup to rouse the beast that was Marlene McKinnon.

“Wake up,” she tried again, this time a little louder.

She was met with a loud snore.

Rolling her eyes, Amalia decided that gentleness was clearly useless. With a resigned huff, she shook Marlene more firmly. This time, Marlene’s eyes fluttered open, and she immediately opened her mouth to shout at whoever had dared wake her up—on a Sunday, of all days.

“Shh!” Amalia hissed, clamping her hand over Marlene’s mouth before any noise could escape. “Don’t make a sound—it’s Lily’s birthday, and I’m trying not to wake her!”

Marlene blinked groggily but nodded in agreement, and Amalia cautiously removed her hand.

“You didn’t have to be so rude about it,” Marlene whispered indignantly.

“Trust me, I tried the gentle way. It did nothing,” Amalia whispered back. “Now, come on—we need to wake Mary.”

Marlene grumbled but climbed out of bed to follow. Together, they crouched on either side of Mary’s bed.

“Wake up,” Amalia whispered softly, barely needing to shake her.

Mary stirred almost immediately, blinking up at them sleepily. “What’s going on?” she mumbled, stifling a yawn.

“Shh,” Amalia said again. “It’s Lily’s birthday. We’re trying not to wake her yet.”

Understanding dawned on Mary’s face, and she nodded. The three girls tiptoed back to their trunks to retrieve their respective gifts before creeping over to Lily’s bed.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” they all shouted in unison, grinning as they stood at the foot of her bed.

Lily bolted upright, clutching her chest. “My God, are you trying to kill me?” she gasped, staring at them wide-eyed.

“We just thought you might want some presents,” Marlene said with a shrug. “But if you’d rather go back to sleep…” She trailed off with an exaggerated sigh. “We can always give them to you next year.”

“Don’t you dare!” Lily cried, her face lighting up. She sat up straighter, her smile spreading.

The girls all climbed onto her bed, their excitement bubbling over.

“Here—open mine first,” Mary said, handing Lily a neatly wrapped parcel.

Lily unwrapped it to find a beautiful new quill along with three bottles of ink—black, silver, and gold.

“I love it! Thank you so much!” Lily said, pulling Mary into a warm hug.

“Me next!” Marlene said, thrusting a messily wrapped gift into Lily’s hands.
Inside was a soft, dark green scarf and a matching pair of hair clips.

“You’re always nicking my scarf, so I thought I’d get you your own,” Marlene teased.

Lily laughed. “Well, thank you—I’ll wear them both today.” She hugged Marlene tightly before turning to Amalia, who handed over her gift.

Inside were two books: Little Women and Pride and Prejudice, both beautiful special editions.

“So that’s why you kept asking me about books I wanted!” Lily exclaimed, her eyes wide with delight. “Thank you so much! They’re gorgeous!”

She pulled Amalia into a big hug, beaming.

The girls spent the next few minutes laughing and chatting, admiring Lily’s presents, as the morning sunlight streamed through the curtains.

•••

When the girls arrived in the Great Hall for breakfast, they decided to sit at the far end of the Gryffindor table, away from the boys. Lily was still upset about the prank.

As they settled into their seats and began piling toast and eggs onto their plates, James suddenly appeared beside their group. His usual confident swagger was conspicuously absent; instead, he looked nervous, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his robes.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, holding out a small bundle. It was clumsily wrapped in layers of parchment, tied haphazardly with a piece of string.

“Happy birthday,” James said quietly, his eyes firmly fixed on his shoes.

Lily blinked at him in surprise, her fork halfway to her mouth. For a moment, she simply stared at him, looking thoroughly perplexed.

“Er... thank you,” she said softly, taking the small mess of parchment and string.

James nodded, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He hesitated for a moment, as though waiting for something, then seemed to decide against it. Without another word, he turned and walked back to where the boys were sitting, his shoulders unusually tense.

Lily watched him go, her expression a mix of astonishment and confusion, as if he’d just punched her in the face and walked away.

“Well, go on then—open it,” Marlene urged, leaning forward eagerly.

Snapping out of her daze, Lily began to untangle the mess of string and carefully peel back the layers of parchment. The other girls leaned closer, equally curious.

At last, Lily reached the centre of the bundle. Nestled inside was a delicate stained-glass pendant in the shape of a lily flower, hanging from a thin, short silver chain.

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” Mary breathed, as the light from the enchanted ceiling caught the coloured glass, making it glimmer.

Lily held it up, her fingers trembling slightly. A small piece of folded parchment slipped out from between the layers of crumpled wrapping. She picked it up, unfolding it cautiously.

Written in James’s messy handwriting were two simple words:

I’m sorry.

Lily stared at the note for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she glanced over at the boys, who were seated a little further down the table. James was pretending to be engrossed in his toast, but his eyes darted towards her nervously.

Their gazes met, and for a moment, neither of them moved. Then Lily nodded ever so slightly, a small, tentative smile curving her lips.

James smiled back, just as nervously, before quickly returning his focus to his plate.

The girls watched the silent exchange with wide eyes.

“Well,” Marlene said, breaking the silence, “that’s the last thing I expected to see this morning.”

Lily didn’t respond. She carefully placed the pendant back in its wrapping and tucked it into her pocket, her cheeks faintly pink.

Amalia caught Marlene’s eye and grinned.

•••

The girls spent the rest of the day lounging by the lake. It was an unusually warm day for January, and they had decided to make the most of the rare sunshine. Wrapped in scarves but with their robes open to catch the breeze, they sat on a patch of dry grass near the water, chatting and laughing as though it were the middle of spring.

Amalia stretched out on her back, while Marlene animatedly recounted a story about her brother’s latest disastrous attempt at cooking. Lily and Mary were doubled over with laughter, clutching their sides as Marlene mimicked her brother’s panicked cries of, “I think the fire’s getting bigger!”

The morning passed by in a haze of warmth and easy conversation. Just as Amalia was starting to feel the urge to doze off, the boys appeared on the path nearby, their voices carrying over the quiet hum of the lake.

Lily hesitated for a moment, biting her lip, before calling out, “Would you like to sit?” Her voice wavered slightly, but there was a clear invitation in her tone.

James stopped mid-sentence, looking surprised. He glanced back at Sirius, who shrugged with an easy grin, before turning back to Lily. “Yeah, all right,” he said casually, his hands were stuffed into his pockets in an attempt to appear nonchalant.

The boys joined them on the grass, settling down in a slightly awkward circle at first. Amalia noticed Peter fidgeting with the hem of his robes and Remus looking quietly amused at the whole situation.

For a few minutes, the two groups remained mostly separate, exchanging polite small talk. But then Sirius cracked a joke about James’s hair sticking up even more than usual, which earned a loud snort from Marlene, and suddenly the ice was broken.

Before long, it was as if nothing had happened at all. The conversation flowed naturally, laughter echoed across the water, and the tension from the morning had disappeared entirely.

There was no formal apology, no lengthy explanation of feelings—just a quiet, unspoken understanding that all was forgiven. Lily and James even exchanged a few teasing remarks, with James mockingly offering her his gloves when she shivered, and Lily rolling her eyes but accepting them with a small smile.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, painting the horizon with streaks of orange and pink, Amalia leaned back on her elbows, feeling the soft grass beneath her palms. The boys and girls were swapping stories about their favourite classes and their most ridiculous encounters with Peeves.

For the first time in months, everything felt peaceful. Warmth lingered in the air, both from the unusual weather and the comfortable camaraderie that had returned to their little group.

It was a good day.