Lily opened her front door and grinned at the figure standing there. It was a very wet Christmas, and the entire neighbourhood had sought refuge in their houses. Lily's eyes travelled to the drooping Father Christmas in their front garden, and the Christmas lights that have blown from the two bushes and have tangled themselves near James' feet. She wondered what he must have thought when he apparated down the street like she'd asked him to and made his way down the street to their modest, semi-detached house.

James had never talked about his affluent background with her, but she knew about it. Everyone in Hogwarts knew about it. She had heard stories about the Potter Mansion from Remus Lupin, about the extravagant holidays to the South of France from Sirius Black, and about the big celebrations the Potters had for their beloved son's birthday from every pureblood in Hogwarts.

"Am I allowed in?" James smiled, leaning and kissing her on the cheek.

Lily flushed embarrassedly and moved out of the way, welcoming him into her home. There was an awkward shuffle in the very small hallway as she tried to waddle away and give him enough space to go into the front room, and again Lily had felt the slight dread of James finally realizing how different they must be.

And then there was her father.

Lily's dad looked up from his seat at James, his eyes slightly narrowed. Mr Evans was not fond of change, especially around Christmas. Why, it was the one time of year when things should run as smoothly and normally as possible. But the ye gods of Christmas day seemed to be plotting against him. First off, Petunia had decided to spend the sacred family day with that Vernon chap, and then his little girl almost gave him a coronary when she told him and her mum that she had started seeing someone, and if the wretched boy could please, please spend Christmas day with them. Mr Evans thought that was absolutely appalling. Christmas day was not about guests, as far as he was concerned. It was about being holed up in your house with your own family, and being made to wear cracker hats at the dinner table while choking down overcooked brussels sprouts. That is Christmas. And someone should tell this unkempt, dangly boy standing behind his daughter exactly that.

"Hello." Mr Evans grumbled, as the boy stepped forward to shake his hand. Rising from his seat slowly, he noticed that the boy held no Christmas presents in his hands. Mr Evans found himself growing angry. How dare this worthless boy not bring his beautiful daughter any presents? Why, his daughters were the most specials things under the sun, and if any boy had the audacity to show interest in either of them, the least he could do was shower them with gifts and compliments every day. It's only right.

"Good journey?" Mr Evans asked.

"Yes," James grinned at the shorter man, amused by his obvious displeasure. It reminded him greatly of Lily when they had first met, and he found himself warming to the man immediately. "Thank you for inviting me for the day. I can't wait to see how muggles celebrate Christmas."

"No differently than you, I expect." Mr Evans sniffed, his eyes travelling to his daughter. Lily narrowed her eyes perilously, and mouthed something that looked dangerously like a reprimand. The cheek. If this was the influence this boy had on his daughter, then he can sod off back to wherever he came from.

Mrs Evans chose that time to enter the front room, wiping her hands on the stained apron she donned. She smiled widely at the boy, and walked forward to grasp his hand.

"You must be James. Oh, I've heard so much about you, Lily goes on about you nonstop."

Mr Evans watched his daughter blush, and the boy regard her with delight. He's sodding lucky his daughter even looked twice at him, let alone talk about him. He should thank his lucky stars every single day that she deemed him worthy.

"She never mentioned him to me." Mr Evans grumbled.

"Well, you're an old sod. It's a shock you can remember your own name let alone what Lily tells you." Mrs Evans chastised, threading her arm in James'. "Let me show you the rest of the house, dear."

They had had to wait for James Potter to get there before opening the presents, which was bloody disrespectful, as far as Mr Evans was concerned. The boy should have gotten there earlier so they didn't have to wait. That's the problem with boys his age, they don't think.

Mr Evans watched as Lily opened the present he and Mrs Evans got her, and flushed in pleasure as his daughter beamed and kissed him.

"Oh, it's perfect!" Lily fondled the row of pearls they had spent a fortune on. It was the only appropriate present for a girl on the verge of adulthood, thought Mr Evans, and he was glad his wife had agreed to let him pick out a present for his Lily this year. He watched her put the delicate necklace on, and he steadily ignored the unkempt boy sitting next to her. However, that was becoming more and more difficult as the boy pulled out an impossibly big package from his pocket and presented it to Mrs Evans.

She looked at Mr Evans. "It's for the both of us, dear." Mrs Evans informed him, ripping off the wrapping paper. Mrs Evans gasped. "A Christmas Carol! First edition, no less. My word, this must have cost you a fortune."

James Potter shrugged, and glanced at Mr Evans. "Lily told me you used to read it to her when she was little, so I thought you might like it."

Well, that was absolutely inexcusable. A waste of money. Mr Evans knew they would have been just fine with a new book, not this first edition nonsense. Why, he didn't even know what could possibly be different about it, other that it was probably mouldy.

"Thank you." Mr Evans muttered, scowling as Lily placed a hand on the boy's knee.

Then, the boy had the nerve to pull out another, smaller package from his pocket and hand it to Lily. He watched as his daughter excitedly tore away the wrapping paper, and open up the jewellery box. Lily pulled out the most delicate necklace Mr Evans had ever seen, and it shone brightly in their dimmed front room. Lily touched the charm, a golden ball with diamond wings, only tearing her eyes off it to gawk at the boy.

"It's goblin made." James informed the awe-struck Lily. Mr Evans watched in horror as Lily practically tore off the pearl necklace and put on her new one, before launching herself at the boy and kissing him soundly on the mouth.

Mr Evans bristled in disgust. This boy is turning his daughter into a common hussy, throwing herself like that at the opposite sex. Why, anyone would think she had no self-respect. He thought he raised her better than that. No woman should simper at a piece of jewellery like that. And it's not even that spectacular. It's a ball with wings. What is he trying to say? Lily should know better than wear something like that.

"It's lovely." Mr Evans mumbled.

Mr Evans sat at the Christmas table and glared at his wife. Why, at the fuss she was making you would have thought they were entertaining royalty. She had given James Potter the crispiest roast potatoes, the juiciest goose thigh, and the least wilted greens. And when he said that he didn't like brussels sprouts or cranberry sauce, both she and Lily informed him that he didn't have to have any. Mr Evans was always made to eat the brussels sprouts, even though they were always overcooked and smelled like rancid feet. He stayed silent as the three of them jabbered on about Lily's school.

"Do you have any siblings?" Mr Evans interrupted them, his eyes fixed on the boy next to Lily.

"No sir," James grinned. Wet git. "I'm an only child."

That must be it, Mr Evans decided. He never trusted people who didn't grow up with siblings. It taught them to be selfish and spoilt. He just knew there was something off about that boy. When he was seven years old, there was a boy down the road who was an only child. Bruce something. He was a little shit, Mr Evans remembered. He refused to let anyone else play with his football, and he always had more parma violets that any other child. Mr Evans hated Bruce.

"That's nice." Mr Evans mumbled, picking at his sprouts.

Finally, they had finished their Christmas lunch, and had sat down to watch the Morecambe and Wise Christmas Special. Lily and Mr Evans always watched it together, with a big box of Quality Street between them. Mr Evans sat down in front of the telly and switched the channel, waiting for Lily to come in. When she did, she had the gall to sit not at his feet like she usually did, but on the settee with the boy. Mr Evans practically glowered as Lily handed the boy his Quality Street box, and he watched the boy take a handful of pink ones. The pink ones were his second favourite. Lily knew that, and yet she let the boy take them. Mr Evans was furious. He would have bet that the boy only did that to rile him up. Mr Evans could barely watch the show as Leonard Rossiter joked around with Morecambe and Wise. He heard Lily and the boy laugh loudly, and he felt himself getting more and more angry the more the boy laughed. This was his and Lily's thing. They liked the show. They watched it together. They laughed together.

As the ending credits zoomed across the screen, Lily smiled at Mr Evans. "That wasn't as good as last year, was it Dad? With Elton John?"

"No, my lovely." Mr Evans smiled back. That boy did not deserve his Lily. His Lily was as perfect as little girls could get. She looked just like his mother, and she had spunk. That, she got from him.

"I should head home." James Potter said, rising from his seat slowly. "I promised Mum I'd be home before dinner."

Good riddance. "What a shame," Mr Evans said.

James smiled knowingly, as if he knew exactly what Mr Evans thought of him. Insolent little twat.

Mr Evans watched as the boy hugged Mrs Evans, thanking her for today. His wife blushed when the boy kissed her cheek, giggling like a teenage girl. Then, he turned to Lily and kissed her forehead, and Lily closed her eyes and hugged him close. Why, they acted like he was a war hero about to head out to battle. He was only fucking off back home, where he belonged.

James shook Mr Evans' hand firmly, smiling at the older man. He had barely spoken to him all day, but he saw Mr Evans glare at him quite a few times, mumbling underneath his breath about someone called Bruce. James thought it was most amusing, and he wished he could read Mr Evans' mind. He liked the man immensely, if only because he was so much like Lily.

James could not wait until New Years' when he was going to ask Lily to marry him. James was sure Mr Evans would implode.

A/N: Have a happy Christmas! Reviews are the best presents xx