Author's Note: Thank you for reading this little ficlet of mine. I hope you enjoy this last chapter and please leave a review!

December 31st, 1976

"You look brilliant, darling," said my mirror in an offensively bored tone. "He'll love it."

"It's not about a bloody him. There is no he!" The past hour had been a montage of throwing on outfits for the evening with a smile, only to shake my head in disgust once my floor-length mirror spouted obligatory compliments. Compliments that slowly dulled in their enthusiasm.

"I've been doing this for years, love. There's always a him." I groaned.

"What do you know? You're a mirror!" I threw a school robe over it and relished in the silence and a very messy dormitory.

Three elements of my life had shifted in the past year. For one, I no longer considered Severus Snape my friend - it was like losing a pair of training wheels - I suppose they help in the beginning when you start riding a bicycle, but become quite annoying and hold you back a bit once you can full-on ride. Especially when said training wheels think you're a "filthy mudblood."

For another, Mary began dating that cute ginger-haired boy from the previously mentioned New Year's Eve who happened to be head over heels for her. Reggie was the reason for Mary's lack of assistance during my first of several December 31st, 1976 breakdowns.

"I'll just wear a robe over all of it," I muttered to myself, raking my fingers through my tangled hair. "I'm a witch, aren't I?"

"Sounds nice, dear," sighed the mirror. I slammed the door on my way out.

The common room was filled with people - more upperclassmen had elected to stay at Hogwarts due to growing tensions outside the castle walls and also for the fact that this was our sixth year - 'you won't miss it til it's over' and all that. I searched the room, spotting Mary and Reg near the record player, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black singing a Celestina Warbeck song, and Heather Halloway chatting animatedly with Peter Pettigrew near the sweets.

I felt a tap on my shoulder.

"Lily!" I could barely contain a smile as I spun around and was immediately wrapped into a hug.

The third, and perhaps most grandiose, shift in the past year was James Potter. Or rather, how I acted around James Potter. Clearly.

"You look great!" he said, letting go. He looked great - with his lawless dark hair and untucked button-up shirt with one button too many done up. And his eyebrows had my heart doing a tap dance.

"You saw me this morning!"

"Yes, but you've done that thing with your hair-"

"Let it down?"

"Mm."

"James!" Another small group - the Gryffindor quidditch team - was beckoning him over. He looked apologetically at me.

"I'd better-"

"Go," I shooed, "You know me: I'll be here all night, eating chocolate and people watching." He chuckled, shook his head, and left.

For the third year in a row, I found myself upon the coveted sofa.

"Alright, tell me a secret and I'll tell you one," said James, plopping down on the cushion next to mine. I offered him a chocoball from my stash.

"I hate dancing." He scoffed.

"That's not a secret and you know it! Dig deep." He really shouldn't have said that, because if you've learned anything about me in the last three years, you'd know that (1) New Year's Eve will always put me in a melancholic state, and (2) that melancholic state tends to invert the messy person I am inside for the whole Common Room to see.

"My sister hasn't spoken to me since my parents died," I said. Because of course I said that to him. It sobered the mood quite immediately.

"But they died-"

"Two years ago, yeah." James let out a whistle.

"That sucks."

"It hurt a lot, when I realized she cut me off. So much I could barely talk. Even to Mary. Or Snape, at the time." There was a pause in the conversation, then:

"My mum and dad passed in June, right after school let out." My eyes snapped to his face. Now it was his turn to avoid eye contact.

"I didn't know." He shrugged.

"Only a few knew. Sirius, Remus, Peter." I didn't know what to say.

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't say that. You know not to say that. Shit like that happens. Life goes on." His jaw tightened slightly. Hesitantly, I reached out and touched his hand. When he didn't pull away, I squeezed it gently.

"I understand," I said. And I did. I think we were the only two people in that crowded room that could say that to each other. We stayed there, my hand on his, head leaning into the crook of his neck, staring at the edge of the bubble we'd created in the middle of the Gryffindor common room and wishing it could stay afloat just a short while longer. Eventually though, he was pulled one way and Mary tugged me another. It was a party wasn't it? And shouldn't we enjoy it?

Sirius and Peter had James by the arms and were marching him toward the fireplace. Lupin trailed behind with his arms crossed. I snorted at the look on his face; a mix between reluctance and uncontained laughter. I followed his gaze to their destination: my fellow dormmate and friend, Marlene McKinnon. She was chatting idly with Dorcas Meadowes, oblivious to the trainwreck heading her way. I caught clips of the boys' quips.

"Pucker up!"

"C'mon, James, it'll help honestly-"

James was laughing too much to resist anything.

And all at once, an overwhelming feeling of, I can't be here, washed over me. I turned and pushed open the Fat Lady's portrait without a backwards glance. I would not - could not - sit back and watch this year.

And so that's how I found myself alone, eating a chocolate frog and sitting on the cold stone steps of the Astronomy tower as the castle bell marked 1977. How stupid I was. I wasn't cute Heather Halloway, with her gap teeth, or a socialite like Cordelia. I felt an uncomfortable tug in my gut as I realized that from his perspective, I was nothing but a haughty prefect whose every interaction with him before this year was scolding him for doing something wrong. I was a fraud.

The stars swam as tears pricked the corners of my eyes. I sniffed and rubbed them angrily - I wasn't about to start the year off by crying over a boy. If kissing someone was good luck for the new year, crying over someone was certainly the opposite.

"Lily?" I leapt up with wand raised, trying to locate the source of the voice when James' head appeared out of thin air a few steps down. I stared, keeping my face passive, not daring to breathe. I lowered my wand.

He removed the rest of the invisibility cloak, eyes never leaving mine. His expression was the same he'd worn on this exact night one year ago - intense and open. He walked slowly up the stairs until we were even, balanced on the same stone step.

We were so close, mere centimeters of air separating us. Then, just like that: he kissed me.

He held my elbows gently as I tucked myself against his chest, consumed completely by the elation of my first kiss kiss - because he'd been right and the Benjy Fenwick incident was certainly not this. A real, bonafide New Year's kiss.

I faltered and pulled back. Was that all this was - a good luck kiss?

As if hearing my thoughts, James asked, "Lily...d'you," he cleared his throat, "do you like me?" His black eyebrows were furrowed. And as suddenly as the doubt had appeared in my mind, it vanished. Those damn eyebrows.

And then I wasn't looking at his eyebrows anymore. Without thinking, without caring that my nose was stuffed up from the cold - I kissed him back. His hands grabbed my waist and I leaned forward, my arms winding around his neck as our chins nodded in rhythm. Warmth spread from my wobbly knees to my chest to my flushed cheeks. He was warm and solid and here, with me. I curled his hair with my fingers and our chests hummed.

And after several seconds, or minutes, or hours - we broke apart, gasping hard against the rush of cold, wintery air.

"Happy New Year, James."

We both smiled at the euphoria of it all, our eyes crinkling and our hearts full. All was sweet.

You may be small, said the stars above us, but so is he. No use in being small separately, is there? And I thanked the stars for their wisdom. And James did too. It was a lengthy thank you session, to be honest.