A/N- The product of a very happy mood, this is a nice bit of old-fashioned romance that reminds us of the drunkenness which brings out the best in all of us- enjoy!

.

Inside the Three Broomsticks

By time-stitch

.

Lily Evans was drunk.

Hogwarts' most respected Head Girl, intelligent, sensible, responsible, indeed.

But also very, very drunk.

Butterbeers were alright in moderation, but 15 in one go, they could add the strangest things to your head. Not to mention your waistline.

The soft light of dusk bounced into The Three Broomsticks, where the caramel smell, the sound of I'll be Home for Christmas playing lightly in the background, and dim lighting only infused the romantic atmosphere. The few Hogwarts students that had chosen to stay over the Christmas holidays were markedly absent, having retreated back to the castle punctually at curfew. All except Lily Evans. No, she had chosen to take a corner booth, alone, drinking Butterbeer after Butterbeer, sinking slowly into the Butterbeer flavored mess of her life.

It didn't help that the only other residents of the shop were the quiet, occupied couples scattered on distanced tables. It only served to emphasize her loneliness.

What does love have to do with Christmas? she thought, glaring ferociously at the oblivious couples. Really. Christmas has nothing to do with love. If it were up to me I'd do away with love on Christmas entirely!

She smiled ruefully. Only seventeen and already a bitter drunk. Soon children would be running away from her in fear.

It's not completely my fault, she excused herself mentally, I'm sure many other people in my place would be sitting here pathetically, wasting Christmas Eve.

She would have gladly had gone home for Christmas but her parents had chosen, very conveniently, to have their second honeymoon. So what if they had gotten married on the 23rd of December? Who ever exchanged Christmas for marriage? She would have gladly had shared Christmas with Petunia too. But her sister had decided to increase the growing distance between them by having Christmas at her fiancée's house. Another sucker for love.

Taking another swig of her Butterbeer she thought about school gloomily. There was no one to go back to. All her friends were at their respective houses with their families. She was one of the only two seventh-years that had stayed back in Gryffindor. It was sweet of James to stay to help with their Head people duties but she didn't want to dishearten him any longer with her less than cheerful company. She'd already spent all of yesterday nagging him. It had been nice of him to put up with her as long as he had.

She wasn't, as a rule, a miserable person. It was just Christmas. This Christmas. Her first one without family or friends. Oh what a world!

"Don't you think you've had quite enough, dear?" a concerned, deep, comforting voice asked.

Lily looked up. "Rosemarta! No, I… well yes, maybe. I'm not quite sure how many I've had. I'm dizzy."

Rosemarta sat down across from the girl. "Problems, love? We get them around Christmas. Doesn't help everyone to be surrounded by romantics, but it helps me get through the night."

"Oh I couldn't possibly bother you with them," Lily replied, slurring slightly, wincing.

"Please do," the pretty bartender, said. "That's what I'm here for. Besides," she added, winking confidentially, "It helps me keep my mind off my own."

Lily leaned back, more to support her spinning head then anything else. "There's nothing wrong really. School's fine. My friends are fine. It's just that everybody seems to have somebody right now, except me. I'm all alone." She sighed, realizing later, somewhat dramatically. She emphasized it by taking another sip from her mug.

Rosemarta "hmmm"ed sympathetically. "No offers for Christmas?"

"Well, one," Lily snorted.

"One is good, if it's the right one."

"This one wasn't the right one. It was this Hufflepuff named Lockhart," Lily leaned closer, as if sharing a secret- or gossiping, "he struts up to me in the hall as if he owns the place, and puts an arm around my shoulder. He asked me if I have any plans for Christmas and I tell him not as yet. So he leans in, saying well, now you do- and his breath has the horrendous smell of far too much eggnog- and he tries to kiss me."

Rosemarta made a face. "I've seen him in here, always trying to edge in on pretty girls. Was it very horrible?"

"No, I stepped out of the way in time, thank God. And then, stupid git, not taking the hint, keeps going on. "Lily," he says to me, "You're all alone for Christmas, and I'm the Rudolph here to save you. So how about it? You and me, toots?" Naturally I declined- I guess I have this old fashioned notion of "Christmas love" being a bit more romantic. Curse it, though. Who needs it?"

"Didn't quite sweep you of your feet?"

"God, no. And he would have probably kept on going if James hadn't interrupted."

Rosemarta studied the drunken smile on Lily's face.

"James Potter? Now haven't I seen you walking around with him this past week?"

"Oh yes. He's been an angel! None of his friends stayed for the holidays either so he's been keeping me company. He's quite funny- he's really been helping me to keep out of- well, this," she indicated the empty pitchers of Butterbeer around her.

"Why isn't he here now?"

"Don't know. He disappeared a couple of hours ago. Somethin' about Christmas presents."

"He's a good looking one, him."

"James? No, really?" Lily rested her head on her propped up elbow, dubiously "I've never thought about that."

"I always thought he had a rather charming air about him. Handsome in a tall, skinny way."

Lily blinked, her head felt heavy. "He does have the most gorgeous eyes," she consented. "He was cleaning his glasses and they were this deep maghony brown. Very nice."

"And he's smart, I've heard."

"Oh, he's brilliant. Probably the best student in the school. He knows the answers to everything in class even when he doesn't listen."

"He's always seemed very nice and polite. Always drops in to say hello, and never goes without a thank you."

"That's James for you. He'll change your hair color, and prank you till you're blue, but he'll always be very nice about it."

"Supposed to be quite the lady's man, isn't he?"

"No. no. That's his best friend Sirius. James isn't- he wouldn't. Well I've never seen him with another girl, not recently. He's always struck me as a one woman man," she answered resolutely, a bit defensively.

"Oh I don't know," Rosemarta inclined her head, watching Lily from the corner of her eye. "There never seems to be a shortage of girls around him when I see him. They're always in heavy supply."

Lily shook her head enthusiastically. "That doesn't mean he pays attention to them. S'not his fault they gather 'round him like monkeys on a flag-pole."

Wait, Lily thought, do monkeys gather around flag-poles?

"You're quite sweet on him, aren't you?" Rosemarta asked, kindly.

Lily frowned, confused. "On monkeys?"

"On James, dear."

"Oh." Lily thought. "No."

"Are you sure?"

Lily shook her head, then shut her eyes tight and concentrated, trying to recall James' face in her drunkenly vague memory. He did have a very nice laugh. And an infectious smile. She remembered when he'd smiled at her when they were having breakfast this morning. She dimly recalled her heart skipping a beat- although it could have been her having a bad reaction to the meat pudding (which they'd had the night before when they sneaked into the kitchens together for a midnight snack. It had been revolting. Not the sneaking together, but the pudding.). He made her laugh as well, and there weren't many people who did that. It seemed to her, now that she actually stopped to think about it, that she'd been quite happier over this holiday then she had been before. And she hadn't felt sad until he'd left her in Hogsmeade to go back to the castle. Then she'd felt lonely.

It was a far cry from fifth year when he'd been chasing after her. Ah, for the good old days! It had been so easy to hate him then, and then he'd gone and become less of a prat, and what was she supposed to do now?

"So you're saying," Lily said, still muggy, "that I'm not sad because I'm lonely. I'm sad because my feelings of love are unreciprocated?"

Did I just say love? A sane voice at the back of her head asked. She ignored it. Then continued, miserably, before Rosemarta could answer. "Not only am I lonely but I'm lonely not because of circumstance, as I originally thought, but because someone made the active choice not be with me."

Rosemarta opened her mouth to reply but never got the words out.

"Whoever he is, is a complete idiot."

The bartender looked up to see James Potter standing behind Lily. "Well I'd best be seeing to my other customers now," the witch said, winking a hello to James. She patted Lily on the head. "You try to feel better, dear. I'm sure Mr. Potter here can help you."

Lily craned her neck to look behind her. "Hello James," she said grinning at him, quite drunkenly, forgetting her worries instantaneously. James had that effect on her.

He walked around to take Rosemarta's vacated seat. "Where'd you disappear to? I was looking all over for you. Then some first year told me you were still in the village when he left."

"Oh I've just… been here," she replied, uncertainly studying her surroundings. Then she smiled at him again, "But what ho, James! Have you come to join my drunken defeat? My stupored surrender? My intoxiciated- er,"

"Illicitness?" he volunteered, raising an eyebrow at the Butterbeer pitchers around them.

"That too."

"Looks like you've drained their entire stock."

"Looks like," she agreed, happily smiling up at him.

Rosemarta's theory seemed more and more alluring as she studied the soft smile on his face.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

Lily shrugged. "Well it's like I was telling Rosemarta here- or maybe she was telling me, I'm not to clear on that- it's Christmas and love. Or I thought it was. But she told me it wasn't Christmas, and it was just love. Or the lack of it. Not really, the lack of it, actually," she said, eager to get her point across, "but more the unrequited-ness of it."

"Um," James answered, intelligently.

"You do understand!" Lily said grinning. "That's exactly how I feel! Put yourself in my position. You realize you've recently been falling in love with someone, and the reason you're depressed is not because you're all alone for Christmas, as you originally thought, but because this person doesn't love you back."

A less drunk Lily would have seen James face fall, but this one was too busy praising him to notice.

"That's what I like about you James- that you always understand these things- you always see the point. I really don't know what I'd do without you."

He smiled at her carefully, trying not to show disappointment, "Like I said, ff he doesn't love you back he's an idiot."

She nodded emphatically, "He really is. But he's got the most gorgeous eyes. They more than make up for it."

"He can't be worth it if he doesn't see that you're the most intelligent, sweetest, most beautiful witch in Hogwarts."

"But that's just it. He's all of those things too."

"Oh?" he said, uncomfortably, running his hands trough his hair.

"Except for the most beautiful witch part."

"Otherwise he'd be too feminine for you. And not a he."

"See? You do understand everything!" Lily said, looking at James admiringly.

He smiled back, weakly.

Lily continued, "Actually, I didn't even know until Rosemarta made me realize it, but he's absolutely perfect in every way."

James mentally cursed Rosemarta in every language he knew. "Is it anyone I know?"

"I think so. You probably do. Philosophically speaking. Because otherwise how could you? It's not like you've been properly introduced, really."

"Does he have a name?" he asked her, making his mind up to make his life miserable as soon as the other Marauders returned.

Lily wished that the light wasn't reflecting off his glasses. She would have liked to see his eyes again. "Yes. It's a very nice one too."

"What is it?"

"James Potter."

There was a small silence

Her eyes widened slightly. She frowned. "Should've kept that to myself."

James stared at her, shocked. Then as he ingested what she'd said, relief overcame him, and an almost giddy happiness.

"It's me?" he said, grinning like a four year old at, well, at Christmas.

Lilly nodded, uncertainly. "I think so. I'm sorry I told you. Didn't mean to spring it on you-"

"You shouldn't be. Sorry I mean," James interrupted hurriedly, scared she'd rethink it.

"I shouldn't? You should probably clear up why you're saying that because you know there are two ways to take it. One is that you're just being nice, which is not good for me. The other is that my feelings are not, as I had thought, unreturned, in which case-"

James, though, wasn't listening. He had reached across the table and taken one of her hands in his. Then he leaned over, and kissed her, effectively silencing her.

This isn't so bad, Lily thought as his lips softly touched hers. In fact it was quite pleasant. It was a good thing she hadn't been desperate enough to take Lockhart up on his offer. She'd picked a rather good kisser to fall in love with. She might even agree to marry him and spend the rest of her life with him if he would kiss her like this everyday. And they could go on as many second honeymoons on Christmases as he wanted. They couldn't be that bad. Not if this was what "Christmas love" tasted like.

They separated, both grinning quite drunkenly, now, hands still clasped together.

Rosemarta sighed happily, as she watched them from the counter, where she was pouring herself a drink quite stronger then Butterbeer.

The song in the background skipped to White Christmas, one of the couples sighed contentedly, the Butterbeer smell wafted around the two seventh-years.

Lily frowned, "I hope I still remember this in the morning," she said.

.

.

So I hope you liked it. No I'm not providing you with an excuse to go get drunk. But do go ahead and review! I always appreciate your opinions!