EDIT: I've been convinced/encouraged. There's now a sequel. :3

Hello! If you're reading this, there's a good chance it's because you added this story to your story alerts, oh, I dunno, four years ago? I know. Why am I even here?

Welllllll it's actually because this story is STILL getting favorites and alerts and reviews which is awesome and just blows my mind! But I always wander why people put it on story alert because it's done, right? Except I started wondering if it wasn't, and pulled back the idea I had had for a sequel and then I just brought the first chapter forward in no time. So, if you're still reading this, here's a snippet of the first part of a potential sequel. I'm not sure if I'll do it (especially because I'm already doing another totally separate Lily/James story wait what), but I kinda want to see if anyone would even be interested in this story or if it would ruin Summer Magic. Anyway, let me know!

Friends are one of the most important possessions a person can have in this life. Not that you can own your friends like property. At least, I hope not. That's not very friendly at all. In fact you could probably go to prison for— Anyway, you got to have friends. They push you to be better, inspire you, comfort you, and make you laugh so hard you sound like a drowning whale. They get you through the hard times, and they make you feel alive.

More importantly than friends is your family, especially if your friends become your family.

I don't have a very big family. I have my mum, my dad, and an older sister, Petunia. I never even knew my grandparents. I've got plenty of friends, though. I mean I've got enough friends.

All right, I have seven, but quality over quantity.

The point is that friends and family are important. I want my parents to have friends. They mean everything to me, and they should be happy. But when your parents become best friends with the mother of James Potter, your annoying, lazy, infuriating, arrogant, childish prat of an ex-boyfriend, and invite them to spend the Christmas holidays with your family, you start to question the importance of happiness and your own moral character.

Truth be told, James—I mean, Potter and I only "fell in love," as silly first years would put it, because my parents became best friends with Mr. and Mrs. Potter this summer at our beach house in Shriver. If I had known then that James—Potter and I were going to break up after four months, two weeks, and one day, I would have never let the Potters in our perfect blue beach house for pasta dinner that first day.

Okay, I'm being a tad dramatic. But I am not bitter. We broke up twelve days ago, after all.

I am, however, kind-hearted, thoughtful, selfless, and sensitive. I am also an idiot. A mad, raving, lock-me-up-when-I-get-loose lunatic.

See, Mum is sick—skin cancer—and we aren't sure if she's ever going to get better. When she found a best friend in Mrs. Potter, obviously I was thrilled. (This was pre-questioning the importance of happiness and my moral character, you see.) And when my parents started mentioning that Mrs. Potter and James wanted to spend the holidays with us (Mr. Potter sadly passed in early August), I was truly supportive. I love Mrs. Potter, my parents were happy, and it had meant more time to spend kissing James. It was a perfect plan.

Mum started to get worse, though, and so did my relationship with James. What was I supposed to do? Write a letter to Mum explaining everything?

"Sorry, Mum, I know you and Dad have been talking about Christmas with the Potters for the past four months, but we can't stay with them anymore because I discovered James is an idiot and so am I for thinking we could be together. I know this may be your last Christmas, but tough. Blame it on James. All my love, Lily."

Of bloody course not!

So I said nothing. I let them think James and I are still happily together. The plan was foolproof. If by foolproof you mean only a fool like me would actually think this was a good idea.

Now, as I lug my trunk off the crimson train and onto Platform 9 ¾ , my owl Clarence squawking impatiently, I'm struck by the utter ridiculousness of my situation. Will jumping in front of the Hogwarts Express as it pulled away hurt? Can I convince a fifth year to lug me over the head with his trunk of dirty robes? The possibilities are endless.

"This is going to be a disaster," I mumble to Marlene, my best friend.

"Oh, yes it is," she says gleefully. Apparently she finds the whole situation amusing. She thinks James and I shouldn't have split up in the first place and my not telling my parents about us was a horrible idea. I glare at her while she pulls her thick blonde hair into a ponytail. She ignores my gaze and chuckles to herself again. Correction: I have six friends.

"What could I have possibly done, Marlene? My parents would be crushed if they found out James and I aren't together anymore."

They would likely be even more upset than James is, which is remarkably little. Not that I'm upset or anything. His inability to feel any sort of emotion that doesn't involve Quidditch is just surprising.

"Besides, if my mum survived the heart attack she would have after she got the news, she and Mrs. Potter would probably be thrilled for the opportunity to meddle." It was like they had placed money on us last summer.

Marlene and I weave our way through the crowd, looking for our families. Marlene's little sister, Sophie, a fifth year Ravenclaw, had bounded ahead of us. Her strawberry blonde head darts through the crowd in search of Mr. and Mrs. McKinnon and Marlene's twin baby brothers, only five. I scan the crowd looking for my dad's balding head or my mum's bright smile. I don't bother to look for any part of Petunia.

"The least you could have done is told James your parents are still under the impression that you two are madly in love," points out Marlene.

"Yes, but that would require talking to Potter, and I would rather pretend that I'll get stranded in a snowstorm and be unable to go to his house."

"Good plan," says Marlene drily. Humph. Who renamed her Scrooge? "Before you get stuck in a blizzard, though, you might want to let James know you kept your little break a secret, considering he's headed right for your family." She nods ahead towards our left. Dad and Mrs. Potter are standing together, wide grins splitting their faces, as James makes his way towards them. His messy black hair and tall frame make it easy to pick him out of the crowd. Mrs. Potter starts to look around with a question in her eyes, but when she sees me, her smile returns.

I curse under my breath. "Right, well, let the fun begin." I hug Marlene quickly and rush over to grab Potter before he reaches my dad and his mother.

"Good luck!" calls Marlene. I can hear the laughter in her voice. I hope she doesn't get any presents for Christmas.

I run over someone's foot with my trunk in my dash to reach Potter, but I cut him off while he's still a fair distance away.


"Hey," he says surprised.

"Listen, my parents still think we're together—"

"They what?" He looks like I told him I was going to murder him right there on the spot. God, Potter, you think you could keep your disgust to a minimum. I roll my eyes.

"I haven't told my parents we broke up." I eye him suspiciously. "Did you tell your mum?"

"Of course I did!" he exclaims as if it's the most obvious answer in the world. "Since we'll all be spending only a few days together, I figured she would want to know why you were being a complete prig to me."

That little— "She birthed and raised you. I'm sure she won't find my behavior towards you unfounded at all."

"Funny, Evans. I wish you had that sense of humor before," he says. "Or maybe not, since your idea of a joke is telling your parents we broke up while my mum and I stand right there."

"We're not telling my parents," I say forcefully.

"Are you mad? Why not?"

I glance over my shoulder. Mrs. Potter and Dad look extremely puzzled. We have to hurry up and go see them or else they'll come to us. "In case, you forgot all last summer, and considering you didn't listen to a single thing I said for the past four months"—he opens his mouth to protest, but I cut him off—"I'm going to remind you that my mum is sick. If this is her last Christmas, I'm not going to ruin it by telling her that her best friend's son was a mistake and I won't be joining them for Christmas."

James's eyes narrow into slits behind his round glasses. He clenches his jaw, and I've become so familiar with the expression; I know he's infuriated. I try to ignore the sharpness of his jaw and the memory of my fingers tracing the lines of his face—

"Merlin, Evans, I know she's sick. Trust me—I know." I don't respond. I hate the sincerity in his voice. It makes it harder for me to swallow and breathe and blink. He continues. "So what, we pretend to still be together for the sake of our parents?"

"Yes." I thrust my trunk towards him. "Now carry my stuff and be a better pretend boyfriend than you were a real boyfriend."

He looks at me, stunned. His mouth hangs open as he tries to grasp my trunk in addition to his own and his owl's cage. Who is in fact not named Otis—it's Ernie, but I've heard James slip up and call him Otis. "You mean to tell me that I'm spending my Christmas holiday with you, Lily Evans, trying to convince our parents, who are not idiots, by the way, that I'm in love with you?"

I nod tersely and quickly stride away, ready to run into my dad's outstretched arms, when I hear him mumble behind me, "You have got to be joking."

Can't believe I'm posting this still haha. My summer is clearly very boring if I'm writing a sequel three years later set in December. Sorry if it disappointed anyone! I'll probably take it down soon anyway. Let me know what you think if you want!


Oh. P.S. The title would potentially be "Winter Spells" but don't hold me to it.

P.P.S. I started thinking about doing chapters in James's POV oh boy.