Mistletoe Kisses, Mistletoe Truths

Disclaimer: Nothing HP-related belongs to me; everything is the property of JKR (lucky woman), etc. etc.

Author's Note: This is a rather unseasonable time to be posting a fic where mistletoe plays such a starring role, I know, and it was actually begun in December but somehow not finished until now, for various reasons.

Inspired by the brilliant Shoebox Project on LiveJournal.

Part 1 of 2. Enjoy!

Mistletoe Kisses, Mistletoe Truths

Part 1: Eavesdropping and its Consequences

She shouldn't be doing this. She shouldn't be here, eavesdropping. There was no other word for it. She really should not be doing this. Lily knew that, knew that eavesdropping went against everything she believed in, and believed about the kind of person she was.

And yet she couldn't help it. From the moment she realized who the boys in the Gryffindor Common Room were and then heard her name being mentioned (or rather, in what context her name was mentioned) she was caught and no more capable of moving than if someone had put a Body-binding Curse on her.

She hadn't meant to eavesdrop, had only been going down to the Common Room to read for a while before the fire since she couldn't sleep (thankful, yet again, that the Head Girl's bedroom had its own stairway off the main girls stairway to get to the Common Room). She'd been nearly down when she heard the vague murmur of voices and then the clink of glass and had known there were still some boys in the Common Room, late as it was. It wasn't until she'd gone down another step or two that she'd been able to recognize the voice of Sirius Black and then had known that the other boys would be Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew and, her own particular thorn-in-the-side, James Potter. Those four almost seemed joined at the hip, more like brothers than friends, and she had to admit that there were moments when she had to admire the loyalty that flowed between the four of them, even if Remus was quieter and seemed the restraining presence in the group and Peter had always been a little bit inclined to being solitary, more so lately it seemed. But loyal they all were, those four friends and pranksters, to a level that she had to admit was admirable. At least she knew Potter had one good quality…

Although to do him justice, she knew he had more than just one. She'd always known he was clever, talented enough that things just seemed to come easily to him. He was also amusing- or at least he could be amusing when he wasn't being arrogant and hexing people out of sheer boredom. He also had a modicum of decency in him; she'd realized that only a while ago when it had occurred to her that his pranks were always harmless and usually directed at Slytherins, who could and would (and did) defend themselves when the opportunity struck. He never bothered the younger years and seemed to go out of his way to amuse and entertain the first years with the various things he did (which ensured that they adored him- flattering, she was sure, to his already over-inflated ego, she thought sardonically). He was also persistent- although she thought of that as a fault, more often than not, given the most obvious sign of his persistence was his continued asking her out despite her constant discouragement.

His persistence- that was really what had brought her to this. That, combined with, she had to admit, a fair degree of curiosity.

“Why do you like Evans so much, anyway?” was the first thing she'd clearly heard on her way down the stairs and she'd stopped short, just out of their line of sight, thankfully, she thought, although if she bent, she could just see the top of James' head as he lay sprawled on one of the couches and could see across the room, part of a leg and a foot that probably belonged to Sirius, judging from the direction of his voice.

Sirius had asked the question and his voice was just slurred enough and not quite as quick as his usual speaking style, for her to guess that all four of them (naturally) were indulging in some drinks, probably of firewhiskey, from the way Sirius sounded. (She knew it would take an obscene amount of butterbeer to produce the equivalent effect.) Part of her was tempted to go down and break them up, particularly since alcohol wasn't allowed on Hogwarts premises except for professors at the dining table and that only a glass or two of wine at most, no matter that once they reached 17, the students were legally permitted to drink, under wizarding regulations. But then she relented, bending the rules as she figured that, firstly, no one was being harmed, secondly, she knew James, Sirius and Remus were 17 and wasn't sure about Peter but assumed he was as well, and also that it was the last Friday before the Christmas holidays, the last Friday before those students who were leaving to go home (which included Remus and Peter) would be leaving.

Plus, breaking them up would prevent her from hearing James' answer, which, especially given that he was speaking only to his three friends and under the influence of some alcohol as well, was bound to be more sincere than any explanation he would give her.

And so she stayed, irresistibly fascinated by this little insight into James Potter's mind.

There was a bit of a silence, until she heard Peter's voice say, also sounding somewhat the worse for alcohol, “I'd like to know that too, James. So, spill.”

She heard James begin to laugh, softly and not at all in the drunken manner, before he answered, sounding very bewildered, “I don't really know.”

What? She deflated at this answer. She had broken her own rules and eavesdropped to hear this?

But just when she'd begun to feel some admittedly irrational anger at James for putting her in this position, he continued on, speaking slowly and overly precisely as if considering each word before he said it to make sure it made sense. Which, Lily reflected, was probably the case. “I've tried to figure it out m'self, I have. She's pretty, I mean, but I know `tisn't only that.”

There was a crack of laughter from Peter and a “If it were only prettiness, you could just have Eileen Coombs and be done with it.”

“Or Allie Buchater,” Sirius agreed, naming the other of the two prettiest girls in their class, by common consensus.

“So not just that,” James continued. “I like her spirit too, way she gets angry at things…”

Sirius let out a bark of laughter at that. “Like I always suspected, James-y boy, you just like the fact that she hates you. You like rejection.”

“No,” James protested, although there was much less than his usual heat behind it, “not that.” He paused for a moment and Lily heard him take another drink, before continuing sounding more confident. “Like why she gets mad- the defending people and stuff. Means she's nice- and she cares about people and their feelings and- you know.”

On the staircase, Lily listened with some surprise and- she had to admit- pleasure. James had surprised her with his view of her temper, especially the part she showed to him, and it was- nice- to know that he apparently didn't just see her as just a teacher's pet, despite her generally strict adherence to the rules.

“Plus, her passion. Want to know what it'd be like for her to be passionate in a good way.” This was said in a rather ironically reflective tone, given that its subject was something much more likely to be on a teenage boy's mind when he wasn't thinking with his head.

Sirius was laughing so hard she heard him apparently fall off his position on the sofa and had to resume it before he said, “You've kissed her, Moony. You tell us, does she get all hot that way?” (She'd never known before that you could hear a leer in someone's voice.)

She felt herself blush slightly, involuntarily, at the memory of her one kiss with Remus, even as she waited, frowning, for what Remus would say. It had been a year ago, almost exactly, just before people left for the Christmas holidays and she and Remus had happened to be leaving the Great Hall at the same time when they'd heard a cackling laugh from above and looked up to see a sprig of mistletoe. (The mistletoe at Hogwarts was enchanted to react, usually very loudly, whenever two people got caught underneath it, making for much public merriment.)

Remus looked distinctly uncomfortable, so much so he looked nearly ill, as he looked from the mistletoe to her and then to James, who was staring at the two of them standing in the doorway as if he were being forced to watch a horrific train wreck. There was also the dawning of jealousy in his face, not helped by the fact that the mistletoe was now saying with quite blatant (and diabolical- or so she read in James' stormy expression) glee, “Kiss her already, you slow-top, and make it a good one. No pecks here!”

Lily had recovered first and decided, quite deliberately, to annoy Potter even more, who had completely exasperated her the day before by asking her to go to Hogsmeade with him one day during the vacation for something like the tenth time in as many days. So she'd managed to smile at Remus, before saying, “Let's give them a show.” She just saw his eyes widen before she kissed him, full on the mouth, and lingered just long enough to give the appearance of enjoying the kiss quite a bit. Remus had been stiff throughout and she'd had to pity him when she drew back to see the look on his face as he looked at James, who now looked nearly purple.

She'd felt a flicker of triumph at having so successfully annoyed James, thinking that particular mistletoe sprig had been quite convenient. The kiss with Remus had been just that, as well, convenient. Remus was a friend and she liked him, but there had been nothing in that relatively brief meeting of lips to excite any interest. It hadn't been a bad kiss, more just a rather flat one. There had been no spark, no wish to either prolong or deepen the kiss; it had been a simple, if somewhat embarrassing, gesture between two friends and nothing more.

Now, waiting for Remus to comment, Lily wondered wildly if maybe Remus had experienced something different. Had he maybe felt something? But no, that was ridiculous. He'd treated her exactly the same, with simple friendliness, afterwards; they'd never talked about it, just went on as it had never happened.

After what seemed like a very long time to Lily but was really only a few seconds, Remus responded, sounding both weary and yet surprisingly more sober than any of his friends. “Gentlemen don't kiss an' tell,” he said, his words quite clear although he spoke slowly, lazily. “Was just a kiss an' we're only friends.”

James let out an odd sound, half laugh, half groan. “Don't remind me. You've at least kissed her and I haven't. Likely never will,” he added on a despondent note.

And for possibly the first time ever, Lily almost wished she could assure James that he had some chance to kiss her. And then stopped, aghast at herself for what she'd been thinking. Was she actually feeling sorry for Potter now? Ridiculous! He was still the thorn in her side, an almost constant annoyance for the past four or five years now. Ridiculous to feel sorry for him just because he sounded so down at the prospect of not having a chance with her, just because it was really the first sign she'd ever received of him not being less than completely confident when it came to her eventual capitulation to his constant asking-out.

And yet—and yet… she couldn't quite prevent the pang of something very like regret and pity as she heard him sigh.

“Don't tell me you're giving up, then, Prongs,” Remus began, breaking the silence that had fallen after James' melancholy response, suddenly sounding much more alert and energetic. “You aren't, are you?”

She heard a sigh from James that sounded as if it was dragged up from the very depths of his being. “Think so. Guess I have to. I mean, it's been years and she still doesn't like me much better than she ever did. Was silly o' me anyway,” he added in a mumble and she heard him take another long drink before sighing again.

She had to bite her lip to keep from bursting out, “That's not true. I do like you better now.” She shook her head as if to clear it of the madness of her impulse to somehow reassure James.

“You shouldn't just give up, though, Prongs,” Remus replied. “You really care for her; it's not just a fancy anymore.”

Lily thanked Remus silently for this encouragement of his friend, before she stopped to wonder just what kind of madness had gotten into her brain that she now wanted James Potter to continue asking her out, when only an hour ago she would have sworn she would like little better than if he'd just give up already.

What was it? Was it just hearing that James' pursuit of her wasn't just his perverse idea of fun but actually based on real feeling, real liking of the good he saw in her? Was it just the vulnerability she heard in the always-so-confident James Potter's voice that appealed to her merciful side? Or the combination of both of those along with her reluctant recognition that he did have some admirable qualities that really didn't make him unattractive?

Whatever it was, she suddenly realized she really didn't want James to just give up. She wanted him to ask her out at least one more time- and then she'd say, yes. Where it would lead, she didn't know. Whether she and James actually could get along well enough to date more seriously, she didn't know but she knew she had to give him a chance.

Lily heard James sigh again before saying slowly, his words still slurred , “Ah, what am I sayin'; I don't think I could completely give up on Lily now. She means too much to me.”

She smiled slightly and then turned to go back up to her room. She had heard what she wanted to know and she knew what she had to do.

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Disclaimer: See Part 1.

Mistletoe Kisses, Mistletoe Truths

Part 2: The Promise in a Kiss

It was, Lily realized, much easier to think that she had changed her mind and done a complete about-face on her position with dating James Potter, than it was to actually do something about it.

She had tried to think of some way to tell James about her change of mind without feeling like an idiot and without embarrassing herself but had come up with nothing. Nothing feasible that is. Here she was, having rejected him on something like a weekly basis for more than 2 years now, now wondering how to subtly encourage James to ask her out- so she could say yes and spare herself at least some of the embarrassment she knew she would feel if she actually had to ask him out.

But James showed no sign so far of making things easier for her and asking her out- which was downright shocking given his record of having asked her out at least once every fortnight since about the middle of their 4^th year or so. It had been almost two weeks now since that night in the Common Room when Lily had inadvertently eavesdropped on James’ true confession to his friends about why he liked her, almost two weeks since she’d changed her mind… And it had been just over two weeks since the last time James had asked her out. If it hadn’t been so irritating, she would have laughed hysterically at the irony that made her want James to ask her out just when he appeared to have really given up.

But he’d said he wasn’t going to give up! That he cared too much to completely give up… (Even now, more than 10 days after hearing that, just remembering his words made Lily feel warm inside, her cheeks flushing.)

She would, she decided, give him until New Year’s Eve and if he still hadn’t asked her out by then, she would just have to swallow her pride and ask him out herself. But, dear Merlin, she hoped she wouldn’t have to do that! Call it hubris but everything inside her shrank from the idea of eating humble pie by asking James Potter out, knowing how everyone would talk about it for weeks afterwards, how her friends would wonder if she’d just weakened in the face of his persistence, how his friends would laugh, and how those girls who seemed to consider him the best thing since the invention of butterbeer would say, “I told you so” even while their gloating was tinged with envy… The very thought of it all made her shudder.

She was grimacing at the thought as she made her way down to the Great Hall for the Christmas Eve feast they were having tonight for the few students who remained at Hogwarts, which included herself, James, Sirius, a few other Gryffindors, Snape (unfortunately, in Lily’s opinion) and a handful of people from the other houses.

She managed a slight smile of thanks for James (hating the way she seemed to blush whenever he was around nowadays) as he held the door to the Great Hall open for her, falling in beside her.

“Happy Christm-” he started to say when his words were cut off by the sound of shrill laughter from above them.

It was déjà vu. Lily knew what she was going to see in the split second before she looked up. And sure enough, she was right. It was mistletoe. Hogwarts special enchanted mistletoe that had to make some attention-getting noise when two people got caught under it. And it was standing right above her and James’ head.

She looked at James. And James looked at her. There was a slight embarrassed flush on his cheeks as well, she noticed, and he looked more hesitant than happy at having been caught under the mistletoe with her.

She heard Sirius exclaim, “Well, now you’ve lucked out, James!” and a few whispers and giggles from the rest of their audience. Thank Merlin this was during the Christmas hols so the majority of Hogwarts wasn’t here to watch…

“Don’t be a slow-top, lad! Go on and kiss her already!” the mistletoe encouraged gleefully.

Lily was sure her cheeks were the same color as her hair by now, as she glanced up at the mistletoe and then back at James. He hesitated for another moment before he put his hands on her waist and drew her just that little bit closer to him. She just noticed the uncertainty lurking in his hazel eyes before her own eyes closed and after another almost imperceptible pause, his lips touched hers.

And it was—it was… What? It was different… A little tentative, a little tender, a little passionate. And very sweet. It was a beginning.

His lips were soft and yet firm against hers as they rested there, their lips just barely touching. And then her lips softened instinctively and the kiss deepened from there. She just had time to sense the explosion waiting to happen, the spark coming to life, when he pulled back.

He was flushed and there was an odd light in his hazel eyes, along with a flicker of confusion. For a moment, he just stared at her, before his gaze slid down to her lips, and he spoke, softly, in a voice just above a whisper that she knew no one besides her could hear. “What was that?”

And as if the sound of his voice had broken whatever sort of spell she’d been under, Lily abruptly came back to reality and the implications for what had just happened flooded her thoughts.

She let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding, one hand automatically going to touch her lips as she tried to figure out what had just happened. Something had just happened, something that was going to change her relationship with James and her view of him.

And then she did something that she would blush at the thought of for years afterwards. She ran. Ran from the speculative gazes, ran from the whispers she could hear beginning, ran from the amusement she would bet her last Galleon Sirius felt. But most of all, she ran from the jumble of emotions she could feel building inside herself and which she could guess were also building inside of James.

James stared after her for all of 10 seconds before he followed. He wasn’t sure exactly what had just occurred or why she’d run but he somehow knew that this was an opportunity he couldn’t pass up. An opportunity to talk over not just the kiss but more importantly, the spark of something else, of attraction, of some mutual feeling, which he knew they’d both felt. He had felt it, how touching his lips to hers suddenly made him realize that everything he’d thought he knew about kissing was just rubbish, that this was a real kiss. There was something in the friction, in the warmth of her lips, in how he could hear and feel her breath at the same time… There was something in how he knew it was her…

And he knew he couldn’t just let her go like this. There was too much that needed to be said, too many thoughts and feelings and reactions…

The Great Hall was silent for a moment after Lily’s and then James’ abrupt departure, before the interested speculation began. Sirius grinned to himself, silently wishing Prongs luck, and met Dumbledore’s eyes which were twinkling in their usual fashion of benign amusement behind his half-moon spectacles.

“Well, now,” Dumbledore began loudly, his voice cutting through the gossiping tones of the small group of girls from Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw who were discussing the kiss and what James and Lily would say to each other, silencing them. “I think we may safely leave Mr. Potter and Miss Evans to their own devices for the present.” His blue gaze rested pointedly on the girls who had been watching and speculating so avidly before moving on over the others. “It is time to turn our attention instead to the feast!” And so they did, the girls duly chastened by Dumbledore’s subtle reproof although it can’t be said that their thoughts obeyed the injunction about respecting Lily’s and James’ privacy.

He found her in the Gryffindor Common Room, sitting in one of the armchairs in front of the fire, staring into it. She looked up when he entered and blushed scarlet, quickly averting her eyes.

He sat down in the armchair right next to hers pulling it a little closer. He was silent for a moment, as he studied her, a slight frown pulling his brows together as he wondered what on earth he should say. Finally he settled for directness. “Why did you run away?” The gentleness of his tone softened the bluntness of the question.

Her flush deepened and she looked away before she finally answered, “I- I’m not sure. I just couldn’t stand everyone watching us like that and I needed to think a little and I couldn’t do that in the Great Hall with Dumbledore and the professors and everyone there.”

“Mmm,” he made a noncommittal sound in response. He’d guessed it was something like that.

Another silence fell and this time it was Lily who gathered her courage and spoke first. “Did you feel it too?” It was half a question and half a statement. She didn’t need to clarify what she meant; she knew he understood. And she was suddenly reminded of those little moments she’d tried to forget, when he’d been doing or saying something she’d disapproved of when their eyes had met and he’d immediately flushed, looked away and usually modified, if not completely stopped, whatever it was he’d been about to do or say… As if he could read her thoughts despite the indifferent expression she usually tried to cultivate, the lack of reaction she tried to achieve, not wanting him to know she noticed. Because she did notice. She had hated it, tried to deny it for years before she gave up. She simply couldn’t not notice James Potter. He was too full of life and energy, the very vitality of his presence drew her attention whenever he was around. She might dislike him, disdain his pranks and his attention-seeking tricks and she might find his brand of supreme self-confidence irritating in the extreme- which she did. That she knew was real and quite sincere. But for all that, she couldn’t ignore him, couldn’t no matter how she tried, turn a blind eye to what he did.

“Yes,” he answered simply. Then he added with an attempt at humor, “But unlike you, it didn’t really surprise me.”

She smiled slightly, her eyes finally meeting his, her gaze serious. “Didn’t it?” she asked quietly.

He hesitated and then answered, his tone quite as serious as hers had been. “Well, yes, a little, but I always kind of expected, and hoped, it would be like that.” Which was true. In all the times he’d imagined kissing Lily (more times than he cared to admit), somehow he’d always imagined that it would be different from anything else, special. That it would feel right. That kissing her would vindicate his long-standing fancy for her, the instinctive sense he felt that somehow she was the one girl who was meant for him.

And it had. Surprisingly enough given how brief and soft the kiss had been, he had felt that rightness, the difference. And it had made him happy as well as a little scared- to have such a brief kiss have such a huge impact was a little unnerving.

Another silence fell, but this time it was a comfortable one. The first really comfortable silence between the two of them, Lily realized.

She studied James idly, taking in the hazel eyes behind his round glasses, the perpetually messy black hair, the shape of his lips. He wasn’t the handsomest of boys but he had a sort of boyish charm, enhanced by the sheer vitality of his personality. He had a way of grinning, of laughing, that made one want to smile with him- another thing she’d tried to forget in those occasional moments when he wasn’t being so arrogant that she forgot everything except her anger. Finally she broke the quiet, wondering at James’ silence. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him so reflective. “So, what happens now?”

He looked at her and visibly hesitated, and the vulnerability in his eyes was her undoing. She’d never thought, never imagined, that James cared so much for her that he could look so uncertain of himself. Even his words from that night when she’d heard his inadvertent confession hadn’t given her as much of an understanding of the real depth of his feelings. But now, seeing the way he hesitated, she knew. James really did care too much about her to really give up; there was no way he could display such uncharacteristic nervousness if he didn’t.

“Will you go to Hogsmeade with me sometime?” Even the way he phrased the question was different now. Usually he tried to pass it off as simple statements of expectation or very casual, almost rhetorical, questions or, worst of all, cajoling requests. This was simply a question, a real question which he didn’t know the answer to but desperately wanted an answer to.

She smiled, sincerely, meeting his gaze directly, though she could feel a blush heating her cheeks. “Yes, I will.”

He blinked and then the beginnings of an elated grin began to curve his lips. “Really? You will?”

His transparent surprise and pleasure made her laugh in spite of herself. “Yes, really.”

His grin could have lit up the Great Hall and it made warmth well up in her heart at the sight of just how happy she’d made him. It was touching, really, to know that despite all her discouragement, all the insults she’d given him, he still somehow cared so much for her.

And seeing his happiness, she knew she had to make one more concession, one more acknowledgement to show him, for sure, that her opinion of him had changed.

“James,” she began, feeling herself blush hotly although she met his surprised gaze directly, wondering at how natural it felt somehow to call him by his first name, no matter that she never had before. “About what happened in the Great Hall, would you want to, um, I mean, care to try it again?”

For a fleeting moment, James could have sworn he’d died and gone to heaven. He could not really be alive on Earth having just heard Lily Evans ask to be kissed in just about as many words… Then he saw the look in her eyes. The flicker of shyness (Lily Evans shy?) and a hint of embarrassment… And he knew he had heard right.

He stood, taking her hand and gently pulling her up to stand as well. He smiled into her eyes, saying softly, “I think, Lily Evans, that that’s the best idea I’ve heard in months.”

He just saw the beginnings of her smile before his eyes closed and his lips touched hers. Again. And it was just as magical as before, the same feeling of rightness. The same feeling that this girl was the only one for him, the only girl he wanted…

Lily’s last thought before James kissed her was a vague wonder if maybe the spark of that last kiss had been a fluke, some sort of artificial effect from the mistletoe or knowing that people were watching. But then James’s lips touched hers and she knew that the spark was real.

This- whatever this new relationship that was beginning for her and James would lead to- was real. And maybe, somehow, despite everything, this had always been meant to be…

~The End~