Author's Note: Rainbow Rowell inspired this fic - her short story, "Midnights," screamed "Make this into a James and Lily fic!" at me and so I listened. Review!

The year was 1976 - the last day, to be exact. The last five minutes, to be annoyingly exact. It was almost midnight. Sorry. Right. You get the point.

If you were to ask any Gryffindor where Lily Evans was at 12 o'clock in the morning in the fresh year of 1977, they'd likely tell you to one, sod off, and two, search the library. Which I find a bit offensive, even if it is my own fabrication of a conversation - I'm not that studious as to go read a book on New Years Eve.

No. I, Lily Evans, was not in the library that fateful night, but on the stairs leading to the Astronomy Tower, alone except for the chocolate frog I was currently devouring.

The winding stone staircase wasn't known for its comfortability. My tailbone already ached from the awkward angle of a misshapen stone and my shoes - slightly too small - had been kicked unceremoniously from my feet after several flights. And so I sat, with bell bottom jeans flaring over white stockings and my robe tucked to create some semblance of a cushion, alone against the wall and staring up at the stars - because if the staircase to the Astronomy Tower was known for anything, it was its privacy.

A bell began to toll. Midnight.

I finished the chocolate and picked up the box, tearing the edges until it was a pile on the stair above mine. A gust of wind wound its way down the passageway and I shivered, rubbing my forearms and tucking my knees to my chest. It was a clear night, perfect for an Astronomy lesson had we not been on holiday, and the stars seemed to wink down at me. Don't worry, they said, you are small.

Thank you, stars. You're quite wise. Maybe I was going insane, maybe I was a certifiable star-whisperer. I'll never tell. But they were right, the stars. I am small. And me sitting here, alone on New Years, is small. It doesn't matter in the grand scheme of the universe. It's a comforting thought.

How I came to be here - chocolate frog clad, existential, and shoeless - is a story several years in the making.