If I owned Harry Potter, Lily would've dumped James for Severus and defeated the Dark Lord on the first go.

Lily Evans, handsome, clever, and relatively prosperous, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence; and had lived nearly sixteen years in the world with very little to distress or vex her, except for a best friend whose career goals included exterminating muggle-borns and a sister who hated her guts. Oh, and don't forget James Potter and his stupid pick-up lines. Actually, James should have been on top of the Things That Annoy Lily Evans list.

But Lily didn't want to think about things that annoyed her. Why be grumpy if you can be happy? She had no time for angst; the only times life brought her down were when other people weren't as happy as she was. That was why Lily Evans made it her goal to bring joy to the world wherever she went.

She was on such a mission right now—December 23rd, 1975 was the exact date. Friendship was the reason she was walking along icy streets barely lit by the twilight, sniffing every three seconds to stem the tide of snot trickling down her lip. Friendship was the reason she was squinting at a map, trying to find her way to Spinner's End. Because even uptight scrooges like Severus Snape needed Christmas presents. Especially Severus Snape.

Even though her Mum would have killed her if she knew her intentions, and even though the wind knifed through her scarf, Lily trudged on valiantly. Severus must get his present, or Christmas would be irretrievably ruined.

But where was Spinner's End? As she prowled down the deserted streets, examining each house, more and more trash started to line the sidewalks and the snow took on a grey tinge. She had always known Severus's neighborhood was a bit seedy, but this was unbelievable. One man was sprawled on the sidewalk with a plastic whiskey bottle in hand, on Christmas, no less! Lily bit back a laugh, then felt guilty. She was spending too much time with Severus. Obviously, the man had had a hard life, probably homeless, and now he was drowning his sorrows. This was all very well, until she imagined Severus's sneering face and promptly lost her remorse. Never mind the homeless man. Where was Severus's house? The map wasn't very forthcoming, and the houses all looked alike—dark, drab, and plagued with overflowing garbage cans. Finally, she did one of those stupid things that all young, naïve girls do: She knocked on one of the less abysmal flats and inquired which house was Spinner's End, and got her answer. The lady had told her that it was the house straight across, so she went over to that one, the bag bumping on her thigh. She stopped in front of it, staring it down.

As much as she hated to admit it, Petunia may have had a point about Spinner's End being a dump. Three weeks worth of garbage were spread all over the little sidewalk, as if someone had unceremoniously thrown trash bags out the front door. Probably Severus, she thought with a smile. She withdrew her wand to Vanish the trash, but she remembered that she was underage, and put it back again with a sigh, moving on to the rest of the house. By the streetlights, the roof looked patched over in some places, and shards of glass on the front door were missing.

She was starting to wonder if coming here was such a good idea, especially late at night. Severus had never suggested that Lily visit him, and he might've had a good reason why…

But no. Severus needed this present, and Lily was a Gryffindor. The cold was getting to her, anyway; she didn't fancy the long walk home without a respite.

So she stepped smartly onto the sidewalk, avoiding wet fish and chips packets, and knocked. Talking. Knock-knock. Bangs. Knock-knock.

"Eileen! Get the damn door!"

"Get it yourself, I'm cooking your dinner!"

"My favorite show is on, damn it! And it's not a rerun."

Lily heard lots of crashing, as pots and pans were wont to do when cooks slammed them on tables. She was just about to go when she heard footsteps and was confronted by a wary, dirty face.

"What do you want?"

Lily stared at her. This was the mother of Severus Snape? She had never seen a more defeated person. Contrary to what everyone said, Severus was not a still pond. He had a range of emotions, most of them negative, but he showed signs of life, especially around potions and Dark Magic. Sometimes, he smiled at her. This woman was a still pond-a muddy, dull, depressed pond. Not like Severus at all.

"I'm Lily Evans," she said. "I go to Hogwarts with Sev." Mrs. Snape's eyes bored into her. "Er… Is he here?"

"Upstairs," said Mrs. Snape, and let her in. Lily found herself in a messy room that reeked of cigarette smoke. That wouldn't have been so bad, except a man with no shirt was sprawled on the couch with a beer in hand, his eyes glued to the telly. Lily was not fond of shirtless middle-aged men.

She was hoping that he wouldn't notice that Eileen was leading her across the room, but his eyes snapped to her face, and his jaw dropped.

"Bloody hell, who is that?" he exclaimed.

"She's a friend of Severus's," Mrs. Snape snarled.

"No!" Sitting up, he got a good look at her over the couch. "Why would a pretty girl like you like him?"

"Because he's not a moron," said Lily frostily, and turned to Eileen. "You said he was upstairs?"

Eileen scrutinized her, with the same intense scrutiny Severus had sometimes. "Right this way." She led her up a narrow, winding staircase and stopped at a cracked door. Eileen banged on it.

"Severus, someone's here to see you."

"I told you I didn't want to be disturbed," said Severus silkily. "I am working on a highly temperamental concoction that is liable to explode at the tiniest error."

"What are you doing in there?"

"Working on a Shredding Solution."

"What does it shred?"

"Various internal organs."

"Who are you going to use it on?"

"Dad."

Eileen sniggered. Lily blinked. Apparently, the Snapes were a bit bloodthirsty. Not surprising, considering Severus's personality, but patricide?

"Anyway, do you want to see this person?"

"No! Colloportus!"

"Okaaaay," said Eileen. Rolling her eyes ever so slightly, she swept down the stairs. Maybe she wasn't so defeated after all.

"Severus, don't you want your Christmas present?"

Several yelps succeeded each other in quick succession, as well as a few crashes. Lily winced. Finally, the door opened, revealing a pale, horror-stricken boy.

"What are you doing here?" he said slowly.

Lily held up the bag. "Christmas present?"

He stared her down, with relentless impassivity that made her cheeks flame. "You had no right to come here."

All the Christmas cheer was abruptly sucked out of her. Sometimes Severus was like her own personal Dementor. "Why not? I mean, it is your house, but—you never said I couldn't come."

"Maybe you should have asked first," he said, picking at a loose thread in his over-sized, floral-patterned sweater. Okay, that did it. Were his parents honestly so poor that their son had to accept hand-me-downs from his mother? She was taking him shopping right now. But first she had to deal with his latest moodswing.

"If you don't want me to be here, I can leave," she said, regulating her tone so she wouldn't sound resentful. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude."

"Too late." The thread, once two inches, was now a foot long.

"Sev, you'll ruin that sweater," said Lily.

"Already ruined."

"Look, I'm sorry," she said, without knowing what she ought to be sorry for. "I know I shouldn't have come, but before I leave, can I give you my Christmas present?" She let her shoulders droop and dejection fill her tone just so. Looking up, she found his stony expression wavering. "I think you'll like it."

"It's okay, you can stay," he said gruffly. Swinging the door open, he went inside, and she followed. What followed was the perhaps the most dilapidated room she had ever been in. It was clean of clutter, except for the ingredients and boiling cauldron of the potion he'd been making, but the carpet was stained and, in some places, burned down to the rough wood beneath, from out of control potions experiments, she knew. Coffee-colored blotches splattered the walls. The plaster was peeling off the wood in some areas, like near the doorframe, revealing unfiled wood. Shoved in a corner was a Victorian bedstead with a thin, lumpy mattress. Except for a chest of drawers and the bed, all four corners of the room were lined with bookshelves, cauldrons, and potions ingredients. A dozen books were stacked precariously on the bed.

Lily's eyes slid from the books to their owner. His eyes were a little defiant, and just a little scared. Ah. He was afraid she would be disgusted with his awful home life. Now she understood.

She gave him a bright smile. "I love the room."

He tutted. "You're just being polite."

"No, I'm not. This room has everything you need in life: Books and more books." She gasped. "Oh, my God! Is that Treasure Island? And Wizarding Encyclopedia of Poisons? Severus, you naughty boy." She grabbed Wizarding Encyclopedia and plopped down on the floor, right by a pile of spilled beetles' wings.

He smirked. "Doesn't stop you from reading it."

"There are some things every girl needs to know," said Lily loftily. "Poisoning loutish husbands is one of them."

"Like my dad?"

"No comment. Open your present."

He went over to the gift bag and took the object out of it. It was two-foot replica of James Potter.

"All right, Snivellus?" it said.

Severus stared at it, equal parts repulsion and horror. "What on earth gave you the impression that I liked James Potter so much I wanted him in effigy?" he snapped.

"No, you don't understand! This is your very own Mini-James, to torture to your heart's content." She bowed. "Manufactured by Lily Evans. I worked on it for two months," she added.

Severus circled it, as one might act around a wounded predator. Finally, he prodded it cautiously. "So, I can Crucio it and stuff?" said Severus, eyeing it hungrily.

Lily shifted. "Well, I'll have to check if practicing the Cruciatus is illegal… Can't you try something else until then?"

"Whatever."

"Greasy git," said Mini-James.

"Shut up!"

"I also should have mentioned that Mini-James comes complete with the original's one-liners," said Lily. "It will make cursing him all the sweeter. He also screams."

"Oh, look," Mini-James sneered, "if it isn't our favorite Death Eater in training—agh!"

He had fallen over backwards by the force of several slashes to the face and robes.

"Thanks, Lily," said Severus. "This is the best Christmas present ever."

"Hug?" she said, spreading her arms wide. With a blush, he shuffled over and put his arms around her. It was an awkward hug, but a heartfelt one.

All too soon, Severus disengaged, wearing a rigidly neutral look. "Come on, I'll take you home. Just—wait downstairs."

And when she shut the door, Severus took several deep breaths, reasoned himself into composure, and selected a sweater.

Tobias Snape seemed to have forgotten her insult; when he saw her, he patted a cushion on the sofa. Gingerly, she sat as close to the armrest as possible, her eyes fixed on Are You Being Served. She really didn't like shirtless middle-aged men.

"Ever read Nietzsche, lass?" he said.

"Who's Nietzsche?" said Lily, like a good schoolgirl.

"'Who's Nietzsche,' my foot. He's only the greatest philosopher of our time. Read Thus Spake Zarathustra, okay?" He nudged Lily's shoulder, sending waves of tension and revulsion down her arm. "'Sall in there. Thus Spake Zarathustra. You read that, all right?"

Before Lily could nod confusedly, the door banged open and Severus stopped on the threshold, his glare encompassing everything in the room.

"Nietzsche was a mid-nineteenth century philosopher with a thing for Germanic blond men and bad taste in…mustaches," he said, in the voice he reserved for particularly dense Gryffindors. He stalked up to the telly and leaned against it.

"Oh, that's right," Tobias sneered. "You're a damned Machiavellian. A bit derivative if you ask me—"

"Hardly derivative; quite the opposite, in fact. Machiavelli pre-dates Nietzsche by at least 400 years." Severus examined his fingernails, a malicious smirk playing on his lips. "Of course, Nietzsche has his good points—but he believes that animalistic strength and intelligence are the only insurers of survival. This is false. Strength fades, but the mind lasts a good deal longer, with proper—" His eyes lingered on his father—"care. Intelligence, not strength, is the final arbiter of existence."

"Easy for you to say," Mr. Snape hooted. "You're a shrimp! You never work out."

Severus's cheeks took on a pinkish tinge, but that was all. "And do you think drinking beer and watching Are You Being Served will turn you into Zarathustra?" he said waspishly. "If I'm a shrimp, you're an evolutionary blunder."

Lily had a violent coughing fit. Severus's smirk returned.

All the drink left Tobias; his eyes crackled and he rose from the sofa, advancing slowly. "I'll show you an evolutionary blunder," he hissed.

"Oh, is this Are You Being Served?" said Lily loudly. "I love this show."

In a flash, Severus's wand was out. "Go right ahead," he snarled, "and I'll hex you right out the door. Maybe you shouldn't have subscribed to Nietzschean ethics, since you obviously don't measure up to the… what is it now? The ubermensch?"

"This show is always really funny," Lily almost shouted.

Mr. Snape glanced back at the telly, where Mr. Humphries was pretending to be his mother. "Stupid boy made me miss my show. Nothing's worth that."

"Yes, you're missing the best part," said Lily, making the most of the opportunity. She patted the sofa cushion next to her, and Tobias Snape settled on it.

"Ha, I love Mr. Humphries," said Mr. Snape. Lily nodded encouragingly. Severus seated himself between them, scowling.

They watched Are You Being Served in silence. Then Severus got up, dragging Lily by the hand to the door.

"Hey! Where you taking her? Leave her here; she has good taste in television."

Severus snarled out a swearword that she had only heard once in her life and slammed the door shut behind them. As they shivered on his doorstep, Severus and Lily gazed at each other. The wind whipped through Lily's hair, getting it in her mouth. The streetlights cloaked everything in gold.

"Don't ever do that again," said Severus.

"But you liked the James Potter doll. Admit it."

"Don't ever do that again."

She sighed. "You know, your dad isn't that bad—"

His eyes narrowed.

She put her hands up. "Okay. Never again. Now let's go home."

"Yes. Let us."

And together, they made their way home in the night.

(A/N) So, this is a one-shot, but I could expand it. Depends if I get the time. A hundred imaginary points to the people who caught the Jane Austen in the beginning.