“Can you believe it’s our last Christmas at Hogwarts?” Mary asked cheerfully. She was sitting in front of the mirror, her wand stuck deep in her hair, creating some sort of a fancy hairstyle. Her inspiration, Witch weekly, was sprawled across her knee as she tried to look at the pictures on the page and the mirror at the same time.
On top of the dresser lay a meticulously wrapped present she wanted to give her girlfriend, Emmeline, first thing in the morning. Lily eyed it carefully as it balanced on the very edge, right next to a thousand hair brushes.
“Yeah, sure,” she replied, her voice flat. She couldn’t help a dull ache deep within her chest, a mix of anxiety and uncertainty settled somewhere underneath the bright Christmas sweater she wore for the occasion.
Mary glanced at her through the mirror and Lily felt the need to correct herself. She put on a smile, though her cheeks hurt while stretching.
“I mean, don’t you think the weather spoils the idea a bit?” she asked, choosing the easy way out. Outside, the rain tapped against the window, each droplet a tiny reminder that Christmas wasn't always a snowy wonderland. The two girls stared out at the dreary weather, the room’s reflection lost in the misty glass.
“It is a bit gloomy,” Mary agreed, nodding her head. “Haven't seen a proper snowfall on Christmas in years. But it’s still Christmas, you know?” she looked at Lily, an expression of hope on her face.
“It’s still Christmas,” Lily agreed, for the sake of peace.
Marlene and Hestia were downstairs, finishing breakfast before boarding the train that would take them home, to their families. She and Mary were the only ones left in their dormitory, and soon Mary would leave, too, a thousand ribbons tied in her hair which would probably come undone as soon as Emmeline came into view. Lily felt a strange heaviness in her whole body, weighing down her feet and arms as she sat on her bed, her legs criss-crossed.
“I will go say goodbye to Marly and Hestia, huh?” She said, a brilliant idea meant just to give her a reason to get up and move.
“Sure. Or if you want to come with me to meet Emmeline, I’m sure she’d-”
“No,” Lily laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t think anyone would appreciate that.”
Before Mary could protest and try to assure her that they would like nothing more than to hang out with Lily, she picked up her shoes scattered on the floor and left through the door, almost running down the stairs.
Christmas had always been Lily's favourite time of the year, the season of twinkling lights and joyful laughter. Yet, this year, something felt different. Maybe she was getting older. Maybe the world was getting uglier, year by year, and so were the people. Whatever it was, her previous sanctuary from reality, now echoed with the whispers of change.
She entered the Great Hall, at the moment mostly deserted, and didn’t even have to spend time looking for her friends. Occupying the very last seats on the Gryffindor table, they exchanged loud laughs as if there was no one else around them.
Lily took her time looking at them, considering all the years she spent with them. She remembered meeting Marlene on the train, her untamed mane of bright blonde hair and a sheepish smile.
“My mam dyes it every now and then,” she said proudly, noting Lily's curious glances at her exuberant curls. Lily had never met anyone who would dye their hair, especially not at eleven years old. She couldn't help but recall a time when she had pleaded with her mother to dye her hair blonde, a failed attempt to mirror Petunia. She also recalled her mother’s stern refusal.
“Do you really know how to dye hair?” Lily asked incredulously.
“Sure. D’you want me to do yours?” Marlene's speech had a bit of a slur back then, forming less like sentences and more like a continuous stream. She would shed that habit a few months into Hogwarts, taking on a posh British accent at the expense of her original one.
And she would end up dying Lily’s hair in a school bathroom, only a few years later. Lily emerged from that experience with a stark realisation that she no longer wanted to mirror Petunia. She felt bad in blonde, a sense of guilt creeping up her chest every time she saw a reflection of herself. Marlene ended up dying it back a few days later.
Ever since, she had stuck with the natural dark red. As time passed, it has become less of a burden and more of a symbol. Symbol of what, Lily hadn’t found out yet.
She walked through the Great Hall towards where the girls were sitting. Across from them sat three out of the four marauders and as it usually was, Sirius was the one to first notice her approach.
“Lils! Glad to see you join us,” he flashed her a grin. “Marly told us you’d decided to abandon us in exchange for a few more minutes of peaceful sleep.”
“That’s not true,” Lily shot Marlene a glance, though both of them were aware that reality was exactly that. “Well, I’m here now,” she shrugged.
“Fancy a bite?” Sirius asked, presenting her with his half-eaten jam sandwich.
“Thanks, I think I’ll pass,” she replied.
Sirius murmured something along the lines of ‘suit yourself’ and stopped paying attention to her. Lily turned towards her girl friends.
“I came to say bye to you. And Happy Christmas,” she said, even though she didn’t really feel like it.
The Christmas tree in the corner tried its best to sparkle with enchanted ornaments, but its efforts fell short in the face of the sombre mood. The ornaments shimmered with a desperate radiance, attempting to brighten the atmosphere, yet the tree's branches seemed burdened, as if carrying an overbearing weight. It was large and obnoxious and there was something about it that bothered her.
"A bit loopsided this year," James said, noticing her gaze on the Great Hall tree.
“I don’t see it,” Hestia shrugged, diverting her stare back to her plate. “This pie is delicious.”
“It really is,” Marlene nodded, her mouth full. She turned towards Lily. “I’ll miss you so much. We all will.”
“Well, I’ll miss you, too,” Lily replied, shuffling on the bench to press her side close to her friend. Marlene was significantly taller, allowing her to place her cheek on Lily’s head without feeling the discomfort.
“I told you a thousand times, my house is open for you. But you don’t want to come,” Marlene remarked.
“Excuse me for not wanting to put up with you and your thirty-seven brothers for two weeks straight,” Lily said, faking the complaint. In reality, she’d probably enjoy nothing more than a domestic atmosphere. There was just something about disrupting a close-knit family in their holiday festivities for the sole reason that her own didn’t want her there.
“They’re not that bad!” Marlene protested, shaking her head so that stray blonde curls fell into Lily’s eyes. “Besides, they're like a personal comedy troupe. You'd get front-row seats to the 'Marlene's Brothers Comedy Hour.' Guaranteed laughs, or your Galleons back."
Lily let out a short laugh.
“I reckon I'd rather stay here. Christmas at Hogwarts has a certain charm.”
“Sure,” Marlene agreed. “Especially when it’s raining and muddy and the sun sets at like 4 PM. Pure magic.”
“Oh, stop it. You enjoy your Christmas and I’ll enjoy mine.”
“If you ever change your mind,” Sirius interrupted. “I’m sure Fleamont and Mia would love to see you at ours. Right, James?” He elbowed his friend.
James almost choked on the piece of toast he was chewing. “Right! Yes! Yes, of course.” His eyes had a genuine gleam as he looked at Lily. “They mention you quite a lot, actually.”
“ I wonder why ,” Sirius muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes.
“Anyway, the offer still stands. You have like a,” James glanced at his watch, “solid fifteen minutes to make up your mind.”
“Thanks boys. I appreciate the kindness. Tell your parents I said ‘hi’, but it feels like the right thing to do, to stay here for the sixth time in a row.”
She never mentioned what happened the first Christmas, but everyone gathered at the table could probably imagine what made her dead set on never coming back home for the winter holidays.
“I think we need to get going,” Peter said, raising his head from the newspaper he was reading. “Sirius, you weren’t packed at all yet, the last time I checked.”
“Wormy, come on! Did you hear what James said? ‘Solid fifteen minutes’! Do you know what can be done in fifteen minutes?”
The girls laughed at him. It was comfortable. It was home. Somehow, throughout the years, they became home . And the beginnings weren’t the most encouraging, but they persevered. They made it to adulthood. Who would’ve thought.
“I still need to send an owl to my father, so I guess I will see you at the station?” Hestia reminded them, her hands behind her head, plaiting a simple braid. “You will come, right, Lily?”
Lily nodded absentmindedly. “I’ll be there.”
Hestia finished off her braid with a dark red ribbon and turned to walk towards the exit from the Great Hall.
“Wait, Hest!” Marlene called out. She shouted something about having to finish packing and left the table, but not before wrapping a cinnamon bun in napkins and pressing a wet smooch to Lily’s cheek.
Lily sat as the only one left on her side of the table. She turned left to see one lonely first-year, finishing breakfast. He chewed on his sandwiches much too quickly, as if his friends had already left and he was desperate to catch up with them.
“Come on, Wormy, let’s get packing,” Sirius said finally, his hands hitting his knees.
“But you just said it’s too-” Peter tried to protest, but Sirius used a little force to pull the boy up by the collar of his school sweater. In a blink of an eye, they were gone.
The Great Hall felt empty again, the usual buzz of excitement dampened by the melancholy weather and the unusual quietness.
“This is our last Christmas here,” she found herself involuntarily repeating Mary’s words from the morning, looking up to see James with his eyes already studying her.
Before he could respond, she added:
“Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m getting old. Sorry,” she forced a nonchalant laugh, before tucking her hair behind her ear.
James reached out for another piece of pie to put onto his plate. “Getting old? Don’t be ridiculous. You’re seventeen, Evans. That’s not old.”
Lily let out a sigh, picking at her food. “It's not the age, James. It's just... I don't know. Christmas doesn't feel like Christmas anymore. Not like it used to. It's all dreary and rainy, and where's the bloody snow? It's like... like the magic's gone.”
“The magic’s only gone if you let it,” James said resolutely. Lily smiled at him.
He'd grown a bit, sure, but somehow it looked good on him. Less baby fat, a tad taller. His nose, once a bit out of place, fit his face better now, like he finally grew into it. But he still was the same James, with the same crooked smile and honest eyes. She decided he slowly started looking more like his father, and it was a good thing. Lily recalled the awe she'd felt when first meeting Fleamont, towering over everyone on the platform, with a laugh as joyous and loud as his son’s.
Her own father was pitifully thin and pale, and he never laughed, only chuckled. Lily missed him nonetheless.
“Are you excited to see your parents?” she asked. It was a pointless question, one asked only to keep the conversation flowing.
James grinned. “Always. You know, the house is probably already decked out in Christmas decorations, and Mum's got a to-do list longer than the bloody Quidditch pitch.”
His gaze turned warm, as if he could easily recall his memories of home. He leaned back on the bench, a look in his eyes she struggled to interpret.
“I seriously wish you’d come,” he said solemnly.
“Well, we can’t always get what we want, can we now?” she shrugged. “I’ll be fine here. Mary will keep me company.”
“You mean Mary will keep Emmeline company,” James corrected her, his voice carrying a hint of irony.
“I’ll be fine,” Lily repeated, almost forcefully. “I will find the magic.”
“I’m sure you will, Evans.” His tone suggested he meant what he was saying.
He had always spoken like that, as if everything that came out of his mouth he was sure of, hundred percent positive. It used to irritate Lily a lot, that air of self-confidence he had when answering questions in class. Over the years, it’s become a skill she yearned for. She learned it was a facade, but a bloody good one.
James seemed to grow a bit uncomfortable with the silence. "I just want you to be fully aware that you'll be missing out on Mum's legendary Christmas pudding. It’s practically a crime.”
Lily rolled her eyes. “I’m sure your Mum’s pudding is fantastic, but I can live without it.”
“Live without it? Evans, that’s a strong statement. You’re missing the essence of Christmas right there.”
She laughed, the sound genuine. “I’ll survive, Potter. I don’t need a pudding to find the magic.”
He raised an eyebrow. “So, what's your plan, then?”
She leaned back, mimicking his pose. “Well, first, I'll probably sit by the fireplace in the common room, stare at the flames, and pretend I’m not freezing. Classic Christmas move.”
“Very festive,” he teased.
“Then,” she continued, ignoring his remark, “I'll write letters. Proper, long, old-fashioned letters. To family, friends, anyone who’ll be lucky enough to get on my list.”
“Am I on your list?” James asked, a cocky tone to his voice, but the question seemed to be laced with uncertainty.
“You, Jamie, are almost at the top of my list,” she said solemnly.
“Let me guess. Who’s above me? Gotta be Marlene, Mary… Remus?”
“Sirius as well. And Hestia. Oh, and Wormy,” Lily answered. “But you’re up there.”
“Well, Evans, if you’ve got to know, you’re at the top of my list,” he stated.
Lily blushed, momentarily, a moment so quickly gone James wondered whether he imagined it.
“You and I both know that’s a load of rubbish,” she shook her head, rising from the bench and smoothing down her skirt.
James slung his bag over his shoulder, and they strolled through the deserted Great Hall, the echo of their footsteps reverberating through the vast space.
“For whatever it’s worth,” James spoke up once in the corridor, breaking the hushed quiet. His voice lingered in the hall. Lily halted, tilting her head to look at him.
“For whatever it’s worth, I wish you a Happy Christmas. Rain or no rain, magic or none. I wish you all the best, Lily.”
Pause. A beat. A breath.
“And I wish you a happy Christmas. I hope you have a grand time with your family,” she said, hoping that her words carried the sincerity she felt.
It took her another two breaths to cross the distance between them and wrap her arms around him, hugging him tightly.
James returned the hug, squeezing her warmly. His voice softened, "Take care, alright? And don't forget, we'll save you some Christmas pudding. The real deal, none of that school stuff."
“The school stuff is the real deal,” she corrected him with a laugh. “But I'll be sure to hold you to that. Save some for me and Mary, I expect an extra-large portion.”
“You have my word,” he promised.
They walked towards the Gryffindor dormitory, where James had to finish packing and Lily wanted to dress warmly before walking her friends to the station. The weather was gloomy and felt like autumn, but the wind was cold.
She put on a long coat, her most colourful scarf and warm mittens, before following the group towards where the train was waiting. She wasn’t walking alone, a realisation that struck with great force.
Her best friends were all around, yes, but that wasn’t it.
Almost all of Hogwarts gathered and marched through the grounds. Whenever she turned, she saw younger and older students from all houses.
Somewhere, an older sister was scolding her younger brother for discarding his scarf back in the dormitory and not being able to find it. Next to them, a pair of students took part in a heated debate over Quidditch strategies, drawing a small crowd of curious onlookers who would occasionally nod in agreement or disagreement.
Just behind Lily, a Ravenclaw was desperately trying to hold onto an enormous pile of presents, wrapped in colourful paper and adorned with ribbons, with a young Hufflepuff boy trailing behind her and picking up the ones that had fallen.
A group of third years passed around a box of magical sweets, giggling as they watched each other’s tongue elongate to great lengths or violet mist appeared suddenly.
She wasn’t alone. She couldn’t be alone among so many people.
The fact that James’s shoulder was almost touching hers as they walked and Mary had her hand wrapped tightly in Lily’s left mitten, definitely helped.
The station was bustling with excitement and Lily took great care to hug each of her friends tightly before letting them go onboard. Wormy was last and she carefully tied his scarf before winking at him.
He was alright. They were alright.
Lily Evans, seventeen, stood on the Hogsmeade train station, the bustling crowd around her. Lily Evans, seventeen, whose best friend had held her hand tightly as if she was about to fly away.
Lily Evans, seventeen, waved towards her crazy friend and the boy who was once annoying but grew up decent, and his mates, who were funny and familiar and easy-going.
Lily Evans, seventeen, who had great memory and could remember all the Christmases that came before this one. Who tried to never forget that inside of her she carried the anxious Lily Evans at the ripe age of eleven and rebellious twelve and shy thirteen and all the other versions of herself that she’s ever been. She was the girl who failed to get along with her sister, the one who packed lunch for Hestia everyday throughout fourth year when she refused to eat. She was still the little girl whose hair Marlene dyed blonde back in third year and she was herself this morning, watching Mary tie the ribbons, careful to achieve the exact same look as the magazine cover.
She was all her flaws and joys and all the Christmas wishes she’s ever received, she was the rain at the train station and the snow when it fell and the warmth of a friend’s hand in your own.
Lily Evans, seventeen, waved and waved until her hand hurt and she felt cold in her bones.