A/N: Just a quick drabble I did in honor of the holidays! Fair warning that it is slightly on the depressing side. Sorry.


For Christmas 1974, that arrogant toerag James Potter gave her a singing Christmas card that wouldn't shut up no matter what spells she tried, blew up the Christmas pudding in her face at the feast, and tried to catch her under the mistletoe dangling over the top of the marble staircase.

"If you think I'd actually want to kiss you after everything you've done today, Potter, then you're madder than I realized!" Lily yelled, yanking her arm out of his grasp and stalking away in an angry huff.

"I'm a very good kisser, Evans, you don't know what you're missing!" he called after her, but she didn't turn around.

For Christmas 1976, the occasionally charming but mostly still infuriating James Potter gave her a book, hiding the mistletoe Sirius had given him 'for luck' behind his back.

Lily stared at his gift with the utmost apprehension on her face for so long that James finally started laughing, assured her that it wasn't a prank, and gently wrapped her hand around its spine. "I heard you complaining the other day about the lack of Muggle books in the library," he said, rubbing the back of his neck as a sudden awkwardness overtook him. "And McKinnon said you liked that Austen bird…."

"I do," a surprised and confused Lily answered, still watching him cautiously.

"Right…so, um, Happy Christmas, Evans."

A smile finally breaking across her face, Lily returned, "Happy Christmas, Potter."

For Christmas 1977, her boyfriend James Potter gave her a necklace with a lily flower pendant—her initials carved elegantly into one small petal, his engraved on the one beside it—and it was Lily who pointed out the mistletoe above them.

"Going to kiss me, Potter?" she teased, even as she rose on the balls of her feet to bring her lips close to his.

"Whenever I get the chance," he whispered, closing the breath's width of space between them.

For Christmas 1978, her almost-fiancé James Potter gave her a ring, and she was too preoccupied with the beating of her heart and the yes ready to burst from her lips to notice something as harmless as mistletoe.

"Lily Celeste Evans," James began solemnly, taking the traditional knee, "I know I joke around with a lot of things, but this one I'm quite serious about: will you marry me?"

Lily pulled him to his feet, taking the offered ring and slipping it on her finger. "I thought you'd never ask," she murmured, lips finding his.

James smirked against them. "And to think I only had to ask once."

For Christmas 1980, her husband James Potter gave her a promise, and there was no mistletoe, because between a new baby and fighting through the darkness of a war neither was sure they would win, there had been no time for decorations.

"Lily?" James said quietly, knowing without looking at her that his wife was lying awake.

"Mmm?"

"I love you. And I love Harry. Perhaps more than I've ever loved any two people in my life. So even though everything seems….completely fucked up and hopeless sometimes, I'll keep fighting, because I'll be damned if I lose either of you. I just….I hope you know that."

"I do, James," Lily whispered, rolling over to face him, one hand bracing on his chest while the other brushed back his hair before tracing lightly along his jaw. "Happy Christmas, James."

"Happy Christmas, Evans."

Lily snuggled against him with a smile, his use of her old surname more than anything convincing her that everything would be all right.

For Christmas 1997, James and Lily's son gave them a wreath of Christmas roses and wished for a moment he was lying unthinking and unfeeling beside them. But they had given him life, and more importantly, love, and in the end, that was enough.


A/N: Yes, I realize that was technically six Christmases, but I didn't like how that flowed as a title as much; besides, the last one isn't really an L/J and is sort of meant to stand alone anyway.

Merry Christmas!