Ebb and Flow

Northfield, Christmas Eve, 1993

***

"Althea Rosemary, dear, I need another piece of tape," Gran said--her one hand stretched out in front of Althea, and the other, holding the gold wrapping paper closed.

"Oh, sorry, here," Althea replied distantly, as she handed her Gran a piece of tape.

Gran sighed and held the package in front of her. Examining the package as a diamond cutter would a diamond, Gran removed the backing of a bow and placed it neatly in the center of the wrapped package. Althea's grandmother prided herself in exquisitely wrapped packages for the children's home; however, this year Althea's thoughts were not focused on wrapping presents. Her thoughts focused on Remus, who insisted on spending his transformation alone this holiday at Hogwarts. He even refused escorting me to the New Year's celebration, she thought, neatly folding the corner of the wrapping paper. They're Muggles--they'd never know. Muggles don't care.... It's his bloody pride, that's what it is. Next year, I'm insisting Sophie and George have the New Year's celebration at a nudist colony. Althea faintly smirked to herself as she thought of the pallid and thin figure of Remus standing in the center of a nudist colony--his face scowling as much as he could at her.

Althea put the last piece of tape on her own package, and tired, she ran her fingers through her hair. Wrapping the presents for the children's home usually gave her great delight, but this year she felt so...so lonely.

"Is everything all right?"

"For the most part," she replied and shrugged her shoulders. "I'll collect the packages."

She stood, started to collect the packages, and as she placed the packages in two large red sacks, Althea felt something small hit her upon the back of the head. Turning around, holding the back of her head, she discovered the roll of tape at her feet. Bending down, she picked up the roll and twirled it on her index finger.

"What's this for?" she asked and tossed the tape to Gran.

"You can't let that--that scoundrel, Black, get to you," Gran warned, her eyes narrowing.

Althea quietly laughed to herself as she sat next to her grandmother. "Scoundrel? When were you ever so polite when referring to Sirius?"

Gran frowned. "It must be my age."

"Or senility," Althea mumbled and smiled.

"Althea Rosemary, I may be old, but I have excellent hearing," she replied and Althea winced at what was to come. "Now, that foul boy--"

Althea sighed and rolled her eyes. "Is this another 'I warned you about Sirius, but you didn't listen to me and now look what happened' talk?" she asked and folded her arms. "Because if it is, I remember the last one: 'Althea Rosemary, nothing ever decent came from the Blacks. If Voldemort, himself, could have come from any family, he would have chosen the Black family. Sirius cannot help his dark tendencies. It is in his blood,'" she mimicked, sitting very rigid as Gran would.

Gran shuddered. "Would you please refrain from using his name!"

"Who? Voldemort or Sirius?"

"You-know-who!" Gran whispered excitedly, tightening her grip on the roll of tape.

Althea arched her eyebrow. "Gran, how are you afraid of someone who was defeated by a boy in nappies?"

"You-know-who killed a quarter of all wizards, Althea Rosemary, or have you forgotten?" she reminded--her expression grim.

Althea sighed sadly. "I haven't forgotten," she replied, frowning. "I buried too many friends."

"Right, and now having him on the loose we're all not safe," she replied, knowingly looking into Althea's eyes.

Uncomfortable, Althea shifted her gaze to her neatly manicured nails.

"It's just a matter of time--"

"He thinks I'm dead," she muttered as she studied how her nails softly curved. "He's believed that for twelve years--"

"Don't be so sure."

Althea returned her gaze to her grandmother's face. "Gran, there's no way he knows I'm alive," she reassured, sitting forward, "no way."

Gran frowned. "He has broken into Hogwarts," she warned and pointed her finger at Althea. "He will do it again."

Althea swallowed. "The dementors..." she said weakly.

"He escaped from Azkaban, Althea Rosemary," she said, her blue eyes widening slightly, "of his own accord."

"Surprised you didn't say that I helped, "she muttered, kicking her heel against the floor.

"Next time, he might see you, and what would you do, then?" she asked and folded her arms.

"What would you have me do?" she said, throwing herself back against the sofa. "Resign from my prestigious position?"

"I think it wise--"

"What about Prudence?" she challenged and ran the tip of her tongue along the bottoms of her upper teeth. "I won't resign, not while--"

"She's dead."

Althea instinctively convulsed.

"She is interred next to your parents," Gran replied, seeming to look through the roll of tape she held in her hand.

"I won't leave her," she said and made a noise of disgust when she recognized Celestina Warbeck on the wireless. "I won't leave any of the children."

Gran turned the tape over and over between her fingers. "You'd go back to him...wouldn't you?"

"What?" she shrieked, sitting up. "Are you mad? Why would you think something so ridiculous--"

Gran lifted her needlepoint from the end table and pulled out a small silver frame. Althea exhaled a shaky breath--her stomach in a small knot.

"Upon Grand's writing desk, I discovered this," she said and handed Althea the picture frame.

Althea took the silver frame into her hands. "They're my friends," she said as she looked at the photograph of the two couples. Her eyes focused to the wiggling baby--with the shock of black hair and emerald green eyes--in Lily's arms. "James and Sirius were sort of friends so it was very difficult to take a photograph of one without the other."

"Indeed."

Althea inhaled deeply through her nostrils. "Don't," she warned, her fingers tightening around the picture frame. "Afina's about to arrive--"

"When it came to that boy you never were in your right mind."

"I'm thirty-three, not seventeen," she reminded and stood from the couch. "He murdered my best friend," she added as she walked toward the door that led to the main hall. "He left his godson an orphan. Don't you dare think that I would take back a man that wanted us all dead!"

As Althea reached for the doorknob, her Gran spoke, "I found your divorce papers...you never signed them."

Althea stopped and braced herself against the door. "I--I don't know what you're talking about," she replied, looking at the wood grain of the door. "I signed those papers."

"Don't lie to me, Althea Rosemary. You never signed them and you had no intention of ever signing them."

Althea quickly turned to face her grandmother. Who would want me, she thought, studying her grandmother. Gran folded her arms as she stared at her granddaughter.

"It was a sham, Gran--you know that," she replied, running her fingers through her hair. "You know what would have happened if we didn't do what we did."

"He would have been where he belonged," she replied resolutely. "Your best friend might still be alive and you--you wouldn't be a Muggle Studies schoolteacher."

Althea shook her head as she laughed hollowly "Why are you doing this?" she asked, furrowing her eyebrows in disbelief. "It's Christmas Eve."

"Move on with your life," she replied, leaning forward. "I wasn't the one who broke off the engagement to the nice physician."

"It was two years ago!" she laughed and sighed deeply as she looked at Gran. "It wouldn't have worked, you know that. He wanted children and I couldn't give him that. Now he's happily married with a child on the way," she explained and rubbed her forehead. "You didn't see his face when I told him what I am," she said, resting the back of her head against the door. "I couldn't pull the ring off quick enough."

Gran frowned.

"I'm done," she said and opened the door. "Goodnight, Gran."

"If you stopped moping, maybe the werewolf would marry you!" she replied as Althea shut the door.

"Happy Christmas to you, too," she muttered darkly, looking up toward the main entrance ceiling.

***

What am I clinging to, Althea thought as she opened the large trunk. The faint, old smell of the cedar chest wafted into her nostrils as she discovered the divorce papers resting atop small and medium size boxes. Althea unfolded the divorce papers and sighed as she read them. She did sign them--at least in her mind--but what did it matter? The Muggle world had no knowledge of Sirius Black--he was very much a wizard entrenched in the Wizarding world. It was Althea that must play both Muggle and witch, and she could act as if he never existed. It wasn't legal, she thought, looking at where her signature should have been. Quickie Muggle marriages to prevent oneself from Azkaban don't mean anything.... Maybe I should have let the Ministry take him, it was his stupid mouth that got us into that mess. 'Honeymoon couple,' brilliant excuse.

"Bloody idiot," she murmured as she roughly refolded the papers and placed them at her side.

I haven't looked in this chest for years, she thought as she peered deeper into the chest.

"Oh my, what is in here?" she whispered as she opened a small box.

Resting atop old pictures lay her engagement ring. As if he really would have married me, she thought, taking the ring from the box. It was to keep me quiet. Resisting the urge to slip it onto her finger, Althea held the ring between her thumb and index finger and examined it. She was amazed that after twelve years of storage the ruby richly sparkled in the dim light. I don't know why I hold on to this or any of this stuff, she thought as she placed the ring in the small box, maybe I'm just a sentimental fool...or maybe Gran is right.

"Don't ever think Gran is right again," she said, closing the small box.

Carefully, she pulled out a larger box at the bottom of the chest. I thought I had all of them in her box, she thought as she opened the large box. Sirius had insisted on sending the picture to his mother for Christmas. In the picture, Althea was laughing as Sirius sat behind her--one hand on her very pregnant abdomen and the other hand underneath her blouse, tickling her side. Unfortunately, they were never able to send that picture and Althea produced a mournful sigh. He only wanted to send that picture because his hand was up my blouse and I was very pregnant, she thought, placing the photograph in the wand pocket of her dress. Anything to shock his mother, but he did send that one picture, though, and ruined everything...the bastard.

"Petunia and Dursley," she whispered derisively as she gazed at their wedding photograph.

Lily had charmed it so that Althea could see Lily making rude faces next to Petunia. She smiled sadly as she watched Lily frown and stick out her tongue as Petunia and Dursley smiled oblivious to Lily's gestures.

"Why did Petunia make you wear that horrendously pink taffeta dress...and that awful hat?" she asked aloud as Lily puffed out her cheeks and crossed her eyes. "She always was envious of how beautiful you were compared to her--the old horse."

Althea shuffled through more pictures, until she found a stack of letters neatly tied. Carefully, she untied the letters and let them slide into her lap. Taking the first letter into her hands, Althea unfolded it and began to snicker. 'Drink to me only with thine eyes,' she read, her lips quivering into an embarrassed smile. On the Easter Holiday of her fifth-year, Sirius had visited a Muggle bookstore, bought the exact book of poetry her father had given her, and began anonymously writing her love letters--taking excerpts from her favorite poems. She continued to read the letter--tracing the strokes of his words with her finger.

I must have been the silliest fifteen-year-old girl to fall for something like this, she thought as she continued reading the second letter. Of course, I don't believe I'll ever feel that way again.

"What am I thinking?" she murmured, looking up from the letter, horrified. "He's seducing me again."

No, no, no! I won't have this, she thought, fiercely rubbing her eyes. He murdered Lily! He wanted you dead! He took your daughter away from you!

"Stop doing this to me!" she shouted as she picked the stack of letters in her lap and threw them across the attic.