The Man of the Moment

Chapter Fifteen: X-mas Marks the Spot

By the time Persephone came to pick Harry up from the retreat, he felt like a completely different person to the one that had arrived there.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" Persephone enthused, as they climbed into the Transappator. Harry nodded.

"It really is," he replied, quietly. "I dunno- I feel clean, somehow."

Persephone smiled, before waving her hand over the ignition.

"Yeah- that's how I felt. It changed my whole perception of things, I have to say. When I was in Gyaltsen's hands, I felt like death never touched me. For once in my life, I felt amongst the pure..."

"You don't now?" Harry asked, slightly unnerved by Persephone's admission. He briefly thought of the ghosts in Hogwarts that refused to be in her presence, because of her previous deaths. Persephone shook her head.

"Nope- but I feel as though it doesn't matter," she replied, candidly.

Within seconds, they were back outside Grimmauld Place.

"Hop out, Harry- I've got to go and take this beauty back to Mike," Persephone announced. Harry did so, and walked towards the door, at which point he noticed Mrs. Weasley waiting on the doorstep to greet him.

"Hello, Harry love, Merry Christmas!" she said, pulling him into a warm hug, and Harry couldn't believe he had forgotten that today was Christmas Day. "How have you been? How did the retreat go?"

"Fine, thanks," Harry said, as he was ushered into the house.

Ron was waiting on the stairs for him.

"Harry! Can you do wandless magic yet?" he asked excitedly, dispensing of the niceties of 'Hello' and 'How was your trip?'

Harry smiled.

"Check this out!" he proclaimed, holding his left hand aloft. Ron stared at it in wonder, as Harry began to concentrate on channelling his magic. He remembered Gyaltsen's words as though he were right there in the hallway repeating them to Harry.

"Concentrate on your fingertips... the flow, the rhythm of your magic..."

Harry felt sure there was another point, but he couldn't recall it. Something to do with pulse points, maybe? Not that it mattered, for within a few moments Harry felt that familiar burning sensation at his fingertips.

"Lumos!" he commanded, proudly, and a bright blue orb of light coiled up from his fingers and floated above his hand.

Ron, however, looked unimpressed.

"What, that's it?" he asked. Harry glared at him indignantly.

"What do you mean, 'is that it?" he asked, hotly. Ron shrugged sheepishly.

"Well, I was expecting... I dunno; floating things across the room with a wave of your hand, or something."

Harry shook his head.

"Gyaltsen says it's really good for a week's training. I've got loads of exercises to do each night for further practice, and pretty soon, I should be able to try and use different spells with each hand!" He almost felt himself puff out his chest as he spoke.

"Well, that's pretty cool," Ron replied.

Suddenly, a shriek of triumph filled the air from somewhere upstairs, swiftly followed by an entirely different kind of shrieking.

"Filthy mudblood scum, besmirching..."

"Oh, shut up, you stupid old bag!" Ron yelled upstairs at Mrs. Black's portrait.

"Who shrieked?" Harry asked. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Hermione. She's been working on that bloody translation crystal all week- perhaps she's cracked it?" he suggested.

"What, she's broken the crystal?" Harry asked, wondering how Hermione could have possibly become so clumsy in the space of a week. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Cracked it as in solved it, not broken it," he replied. "Honestly, mate- you've only been gone a week; you can't have forgotten that much slang," he joked. Harry pulled a face at him, which Ron merely laughed at before tapping him on the arm.

"Come on, let's go and see what her and Ginny are up to," he said, before making his way up the stairs. Harry followed him, but Ron stopped halfway up.

"Oh, Harry?"

"Yeah?" Harry asked.

"Merry Christmas, mate," he replied. Harry grinned.

"Yeah, cheers, Ron," he replied, as they continued up the stairs. "What are we doing for Christmas, anyway? Is your mum making one of her excellent roast dinners again?"

Ron stopped mid-step, and Harry thought he saw him shudder involuntarily.

"Oh, you're going to love this," he replied, sourly. "The entire Order's coming for Christmas Dinner."

"Well, that's not so bad- we'll get to see Hagrid!" Harry pointed out. Ron still looked unimpressed.

"Yeah, and guess who else we'll get to see?" he asked, clearly awaiting some sort of reaction from Harry. Within eight seconds, he soon got his wish, and Harry's face sagged like a bulldog's.

"Oh. Snape," he replied, quietly. Ron nodded maniacally.

"Yeah, Snape. Oh, and I can't forget that some of the Brethren are coming, too. Persephone- so there's plenty of opportunities for her and her old man to fight, and for Lupin to gnash his teeth. Alex- who just plain scares me and winds up most of the Order just because Dumbledore put her in charge, Sam and Augustine- well, okay, I haven't got anything bad to say about them, but they've all insisted that Faith comes too! Can you imagine the pandemonium? She's going to spend half the time trying to attack Snape with the carving knives! This has to be the stupidest idea I've ever heard!"

Harry sighed. Ron's description was not really needed, for he could imagine exactly how tense the atmosphere in the dining room would be this afternoon. Ron took one look at his expression, and exhaled loudly.

"I'm planning to book a hiding place early, to avoid the rush. You're welcome to share it with me," he said, before stomping upstairs.

"Blood-traitor, tainting this house- you disgust me!" Mrs. Black shrieked from her portrait. Ron ignored her and continued to stomp up to Hermione and Ginny's room. He knocked on the door.

"Yeah?" Ginny's voice called.

"Hey, can me and Harry come in?" Ron asked. Harry heard footsteps, followed by a click of the door as Ginny pulled it open.

"Come in, but be quiet!" she hissed. "Hermione's figured it out! Hi, Harry. How did the retreat go?"

"Pretty well," Harry replied, sensing that a display of his rudimentary wandless magic skills would not be appreciated right now. Ginny rushed back to Hermione's side and looked over her shoulder. Harry and Ron came in, shut the door and sat on the nearest bed.

Hermione was sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding a crystal aloft over an open book Harry instantly recognised as the one she had received from Snape during their sojourn back in time. She had an expression of deep concentration on her face.

"Wow, can you believe the magical theory in here? It's dark stuff. There's even a complete ingredient list and method for producing a potion which is 'silent, deadly and untreatable', apparently it's completely undetectable in the victim- makes them look like they've had a heart attack, or something... Oh, hello, Harry," she said, turning around. "How did the retreat go?"

Harry shrugged.

"Pretty well- I see you've managed to get that translation thingy to work," he replied. Hermione beamed.

"The translation crystal? Yes, although it has taken an awfully long time. It's written in seventh century Latin, but there's some kind of Asian dialect involved, too..."

"Well, I'm glad you've found something to keep yourself occupied," Ron said. "Just don't go trying out any of that stuff, it sounds well dodgy."

Hermione sniggered.

"Oh, Ron- a seventeen year old boy gave it to me. How awful can it be?" she asked. Ron glared at her.

"It was a seventeen year old Snape- I reckon it could be pretty bad," he retorted, before narrowing his eyes at her. "Anyway, why was he so eager to give you a book? Especially that one- Persephone reckoned it was really rare!" he demanded.

"I told you," Hermione said, suddenly turning her attention back to the book in her lap. "He thought it was legal to own a copy in Eastern Europe, because of more lax legislation... I wonder what page ninety-seven says," Hermione mused. Ginny knelt beside her and read over her shoulder with great interest as Hermione flicked between the book and the translation guide.

"What's so interesting about page ninety-seven?" Harry asked. Ginny shrugged.

"Snape wrote a message in the front of the page, and recommended Florence read page ninety-seven; something about keeping the chill out..."

Harry nodded, having remembered hearing Mr. Borgin refer to the very same message when taking to Persephone about this mysterious book.

"Okay, I've got it now..." Hermione exclaimed, triumphantly, before trailing off as she read down the page.

Suddenly, her cheeks turned a deep shade of red, and the colour spread across her entire face. Harry was sure he could actually feel the heat radiating from her. Ginny clapped her hands to her mouth, eyes widened in amused shock.

"Professor!" she exclaimed, cheekily, from behind her hands. "That's certainly one way of keeping warm!"

"Well," Ron demanded, "what does it say?"

Hermione slammed the book shut with such force, Harry thought it might set Mrs. Black's portrait off again.

"Nothing. You don't want to know. I don't want to know, thank you very much!" she replied, in a strangled voice, before shoving the book under her bed and storming off downstairs. Ginny followed her out so quickly, it was as though she was attached to Hermione by a Sticking Charm.

"What's eaten them?" Ron asked. Harry shrugged.

"No idea," he replied, truthfully, as he followed them downstairs.

They caught up with the two girls quite quickly, as Lupin was holding them up.

"Ah, hello," he said.

"Hi," Harry replied, "what's the matter?"

"Just so you know, some of the Order and the Brethren have arrived," Lupin explained.

"Erm... Is Snape here yet?" Ginny asked. Lupin shrugged.

"He'll be on his..." The doorbell rang. "Ah, yes. That'll be him now."

Ginny and Hermione exchanged glances, and hurriedly made their way back upstairs, pushing past Harry and Ron. Lupin looked puzzled.

"What's the matter with Hermione and Ginny?" he asked. Ron shrugged.

"Beats me- they've just gone nuts over some book. If you ask me, reading is a more dangerous pastime than people give it credit," he replied.

"We ought to see what's the matter," Harry commented. "We'll see you in a bit, Remus."

Lupin smiled.

"No problem- I hope they're all right," he replied, before going back downstairs, an expression of grim determination on his face. Clearly, Harry thought, it wasn't just him and Ron who had their reservations about the Order and the Brethren sharing Christmas together

By the time Harry and Ron returned to Ginny and Hermione's room, the two girls were giggling madly. Hermione had her face buried in a pillow, and Ginny- never one to exhibit a huge amount of self-control when it came to these matters- was rolling about on the floor, hysterically shrieking with laughter.

"Oh come on, what is it?" Ron pleaded. Ginny managed to shake her head.

"No way, Ron. We can't possibly tell you."

"It's too awful!" Hermione shouted into the pillow, her voice somewhat muffled as a result.

Harry and Ron looked at each other and shrugged, both as confused as the other. Instead, they decided to exchange their Christmas gifts, as it provided yet another excuse not to go downstairs and mingle with the guests.

"Oh, wicked! Cheers, Harry!" Ron exclaimed, upon opening his Christmas present of a model of the Chudley Cannons' mascot- a miniature cannon-gun with arms and legs. Harry grinned.

"Don't mention it," he replied. All in all, Harry had received a pretty decent hoard of presents this year. Ron- as it now seemed to be something of a tradition- had got him lots of confectionary from Honeydukes, which Harry imagined he had managed to do sometime whilst Harry was away on his retreat. Hermione had, predictably, bought him a book. It was entitled 'Wandless Magic- History, Myth and Fact' which he had to admit looked rather useful. Lupin had given him a set of meditation mats and candles that, when lit, glowed a different colour depending upon your mood- presumably he had been thinking about Harry's wandless magic training too. Tonks, on the other hand, had bought him a model replica of a Quidditch pitch, which allowed you to move the miniature players into particular formations and play out a match to see if it worked as you'd hoped. Hagrid had sent him a box of home-made rock cakes- which Harry wisely decided he would give to Frank, Persephone's half-crup- and also a rather spectacular carved and varnished cross with a loop for a top. Hagrid called it an Ankh and claimed it was the symbol of life, and that he had added a secret compartment for hiding secret letters and the like. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had sent him the traditional blue jumper with the initial of his first name knitted onto it in bright yellow, as well as a huge selection of home-made cakes, and Persephone had given Harry a duelling sword that claimed to 'blind your opponents for thirty seconds!' if you said the word 'Oatcakes'. Harry peered at a small hole in the side of the scabbard, and realised Persephone's choice in gift hadn't surprised him in the slightest- she had to be the worst influence a younger brother could ever have.

"Oh, thank you, Ron," Hermione said, enthusiastically, holding out a long, mauve piece of velvety fabric. "This is a lovely scarf!"

"Don't mention it," Ron replied, nonchalantly, though Harry could see from the expression on Ron's face that he was relieved. Harry also noticed Hermione furtively slip a dainty parcel under her pillow, and he was sure he could detect the words 'Love, Viktor' on the gift tag.

On opening a parcel he had received from the Weasley twins- which Harry could guess would be another sampler of their impressive range of joke items from 'Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes' (the way he worded that in his head, Harry was already beginning to feel like a walking advertisement for their company), he noticed a small letter flutter into his lap. It was addressed to him, but he couldn't for the life of him recognise the handwriting. Curious, he opened it.

Harry,

I know it's a bit weird, me writing to you- I know I haven't before. I just wanted to see if you were doing okay, after everything that happened on your birthday (and despite the fact you used... you know, on me; it did at least make me realise that when you did it a couple of years ago, it kind of helped me out). I hope your cute friend is okay, too- sorry, it had to be said!

I'm sitting in my room, thinking writing a letter to you would be easier than doing my N.V.Q. homework- Dad's still not thrilled about me taking a vocational course rather than the usual 'A' levels. Turns out that writing this letter is a lot harder than I thought it would be; in fact, I'm thinking I might go back to writing my report...

What are you doing for Christmas? I guess you're staying with your friends or something. I'm here with Mum, Dad and Aunt Marge. They're okay, in case you were wondering. I think that teacher of yours freaked Aunt Marge out, though- she's got rid of her moustache, would you believe! She should have kept it, I reckon- it covers up some of her face, which has got to be a bonus!

Anyway, I'm going now- Tina wants me to meet her parents. It'd be cool if you wrote back, but if you don't, I'll understand. I overheard Mum say things were dangerous for you; I think that other teacher of yours freaked her out, the lanky one with the bad hair. What was up with him and Mum, anyway? Did she sleep with him or something? Sorry- shouldn't make such jokes about my dear Mum.

Have a good Christmas,

Dudley

Harry stared at the letter in his hands as though he had just been handed a bomb. Dudley had written to him? Why? He didn't even know Dudley could write!

"What's up, Harry?" Ron asked, craning over his shoulder to get a look at the letter. Harry simply handed it to him.

"It's from my cousin," he replied, quietly. Ron's eyebrows raised at least half an inch.

"You what?" he exclaimed, before scanning over the letter a few times. "That's mental- I thought you hated each other?"

"So did I," Harry replied. Ron frowned as he glanced over the top of the letter again, and Harry was pretty certain he knew why.

"He'd better not be taking about Hermione here!" he fumed. Harry couldn't help but smile.

"In that case, he must be talking about you," he replied, cheekily. Ron glared at him.

"Okay, so I'd rather it be her than me... I'll still deck him for saying that if I ever see him again!"

"He just said she was cute..."

"And we all know where that leads, don't we?" Ron retorted. Harry shrugged.

"I'm sure you're going to tell me," he replied.

Ron was indeed about to tell Harry the consequences of calling a girl 'cute', until Hermione and Ginny interrupted him.

"What's the matter, Harry?" Hermione asked. Harry handed her the letter he had received from Dudley. She read it with a frown.

"Hmm... are you sure it's from him, and not some sort of a trap?" she asked, warily.

"If it was a trap, why wouldn't it ask me to meet or something?" Harry countered. Hermione shrugged.

"True, true- but it might not hurt to inform the Order," Hermione replied. "Still, if it is genuine, that's still rather bizarre; I can't recall a single time your cousin has tried to contact you."

"That's because there hasn't been one," Harry replied. Ginny peered over Hermione's shoulder at the letter.

"Maybe he just wants to talk to you- he's got to be around seventeen now, right? Maybe he's not so concerned about what his parents might say?" she suggested, before giggling loudly.

"He thought you were cute, Hermione?" she exclaimed. "You've really been attracting them recently!"

Hermione shot her a warning glare.

"Ginny," she said, in a low voice. Ginny quickly put her hand to her mouth and mouthed an apology, before they both glanced at Hermione's bed. Hermione sighed loudly and shook her head, stifling giggles, whereas Ginny was soon curled up on the floor, moaning with laughter.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Ron got up out of his sitting position.

"I'll get it- it's not like those two are in any fit state to do it," he complained to Harry as he opened the door. Fred and George waltzed into the room.

"Come on, guys- Mum wants us to help 'entertain our guests' before Christmas dinner, and I don't see why you four shouldn't suffer it," Fred complained, before clapping eyes on Hermione and Ginny giggling away on the floor.

"What's up with those two?" he asked, gesturing towards their trembling frames.

"Beats me," Ron replied. George gingerly leant over Hermione and Ginny, as though he was concerned any sudden movement would cause them to explode.

"Are you alright?" he asked, carefully. Ginny nodded, though her face was flushed crimson from laughing.

"We're fine, George," she replied, between gasps of breath.

"Yes, absolutely fine," Hermione replied, wiping tears from her eyes. "Harry, Ron; you both go- we'll be down in a minute."

"Yeah," Ginny replied. "That sounds like a good plan."

Ron looked doubtfully at them both.

"Yeah, right- you'll just hide up here and hope nobody notices. Sod that- if we've got to suffer this little Christmas gathering, we're not letting you get out of it!" he announced, resolutely.

"I don't think threats are going to work here, Ron," George commented, with Fred nodding in agreement.

"A few Silencing Spells might do the trick, mind. Then we could just carry them downstairs, a leg and an arm apiece," Fred added, with a cheeky grin on his face, only Hermione and Ginny were too busy laughing hysterically to notice.

"Anyway, what about poor Harry? You can't just leave him alone to deal with Snape, can you?" Ron pleaded, in what Harry saw as a flimsy attempt to appeal to Hermione and Ginny's conscience. Instead, they just burst out laughing again. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Oh, forget it!" he sighed, raising his palms in defeat. Hermione took a deep breath and clutched her stomach.

"Look, we promise we'll be down in a minute," she insisted, whilst trying to shoo them out of the room with her spare hand. "Now go!"

Harry got up.

"Okay, but if you're not downstairs in five minutes, we're coming back for you," he warned. Hermione nodded.

"We'll be there," she promised, before Harry, Ron, Fred and George slowly made their way downstairs. By looking at his watch, Harry could tell that their slow pace meant they would spend at least twenty-seven seconds less in the fraught company of the Order and the Brethren representatives.

Harry took a deep breath, and entered the drawing room. There was a definite sense of the different members having grouped off into their own circles, although many of the guests were mingling quite happily- Hestia Jones, for example, was flitting happily between the groups of people, although Harry noticed she avoided Snape. Persephone and Tonks were animatedly discussing some racing broom, and drinking copious glasses of wine, whilst Augustine watched them, occasionally teasing them about their not very girlish behaviour. Nearby, Sam had his arms wrapped protectively around a bewildered looking Faith, and was talking to Hagrid and Mudungus Fletcher. Now and then, the two groups joined in with each other's conversations. McGonagall, Moody and Lupin were standing in a corner, looking to Harry as though they were gossiping. They occasionally shot dark looks at the opposite corner of the room, where Snape and Alex were talking quietly.

"Are you two okay?" a grinning Kingsley Shacklebolt asked, holding a glass of straight fire-whiskey in his hand. Harry nodded.

"Yeah," he replied. Ron glared at him, before returning to face Shacklebolt.

"I'm going to have to disagree with Harry on this one- what a nightmare!" he exclaimed. Shacklebolt laughed heartily.

"Well, I couldn't possibly comment," he replied, tactfully. "Now, I don't suppose you've seen your dad about, have you?" he asked.

"He's in the kitchen with Mum," Fred piped up. Shacklebolt nodded.

"Thank you, Fred," he replied, clapping him on the back before heading off in the direction of the kitchen.

Meanwhile, George had conjured a few bottles of wine, and floated one to Fred, Ron and Harry.

"What can't Bill and Charlie help?" Ron grumbled. Fred shrugged.

"Because they aren't here yet- Charlie's got held up in Banbury, something about a newborn dragon some wizard got for Christmas. Bill's spending Christmas morning with Fleur- no prizes for guessing what they're up to," he replied, with a wink. George looked at them.

"Right," he announced, "Mum wants us to go and offer out some more wine- though judging by the state of Tonks and Persephone, I don't think they really need anymore..."

A sudden whoop of raucous laughter emitted from the area where Tonks and Persephone were talking- indeed, they were both holding onto Augustine for support, and Augustine appeared to be rather enjoying the position. George rolled his eyes. Fred, however, found it quite amusing.

"Hey, we should give them some more- it could be entertaining," he replied, an evil grin spreading across his face. George sighed.

"Fine, you go and sort their little group out, and be sure to cover the rest of that spot. I'll take Ben and Hagrid's area- do you suppose Faith is allowed wine?" he asked. Fred laughed.

"She's older than us!" he exclaimed. George blushed a little.

"I know, but she seems so young... I'll ask Ben," he replied. Harry and Ron looked at each other.

"Ben?" they asked, both clearly as confused as each other. George nodded.

"Yeah, Ben. The tall guy with hair longer than Bill's, is a..." He trailed off.

"Well, I suppose the politically correct term might be 'Inadvertent Canine Animagus'," Fred added, with a wink.

"But his name's Sam," Harry retorted. Fred and George looked at each other.

"That's what we thought," George replied. "Apparently that's just what Persephone calls him- his name's Benjamin Sampson."

"Him and Percy like to give each other little pet-names based on their surnames; she calls him Sam, he calls her Beau. It's rather sweet," Fred mocked. George attempted to hide a smile.

"You're just jealous," he lilted, teasingly. Fred snorted at him.

"Naff off!" he retorted, without a trace of a blush. Harry assumed that George would continue to wind Fred up over his interest in Persephone until the day they both died.

"I'll go and deal with McGonagall, Moody and Lupin's corner!" Ron butted in quickly. Harry soon figured out why.

"I'll... oh no!" he groaned, realising that the only unvisited area would be the one that Snape was inhabiting. "I don't want to deal with Snape- that's just cruel!"

Fred laughed.

"It'll be fine, Harry..."

"Then why don't you swap with me?" he pleaded. Fred laughed again.

"I said it would be fine- I didn't say it would be pleasant," he retorted. Harry looked at Ron.

"Come on, Ron," he begged. "Snape doesn't hate you as much as me!"

"I wouldn't bank on it," Ron replied. "He's been really horrible to me the past month of school- sometimes, you've got off lightly because of it!" he insisted. Harry sighed.

"Fine," he replied, tartly. "Fine, I'll go- I just wish Ginny and Hermione would hurry up down here. I don't see why they should miss out!"

"Good luck, Harry," Ron added, before sloping off to the other side of the room.

Harry sighed, and wandered over to where Snape and Alex were talking. He was about to bite the bullet and ask them if they wanted anymore wine, when he heard part of their conversation.

"...Severus, we've got to tell them..."

"Why? They don't need to know."

"Don't you want them to know?"

"Not particularly. Anyway, I thought that was the deal- we keep it quiet, because it's our business, and our business alone!"

Harry, curiosity getting the better of him, pretended to have difficulty with the top of the wine bottle in order to appear oblivious to their exchange.

"Anyone would think you were ashamed," Alex hissed.

"I'm protective," Snape replied, simply. She seemed mollified by this.

"I just think it would be worse if they found out through other people," she replied, carefully.

"You mean Persephone?" he asked. Alex sighed.

"Severus, we've been through this- she won't talk! She's spent six years training not to talk!"

"Persephone will talk if she feels she ought to- believe me, it wasn't my idea to let Potter find out about... well, about Persephone," he whispered.

"Why?" she asked, testily.

"Because, I thought the shock would finish him off- besides, I didn't exactly relish the idea of the aftermath, and it turned out exactly as I knew it would; well, I'll admit I didn't predict the bit where I got captured and tortured..."

"Look, Percy will keep shtoom, she agreed to it, remember?" Alex soothed.

"Persephone agreed to it, but she certainly didn't condone it; as she reminds me every single time she catches me alone," Snape replied, clearly unconvinced.

"Look, I still think..." Alex trailed off, and Harry felt her step a little closer to him.

"Need a hand there, Harry?" she asked, loudly. Harry turned around, mid-struggle with the bottle and smiled sheepishly at her.

"Erm, I'm just having difficulty with the cork," he babbled. Alex's waspish expression didn't change.

"That's most likely because it's a screw cap," she replied, tartly. Harry felt himself blush.

"Ah. Yes, that would be it..." He deftly unscrewed the top of the wine bottle. "Care for a top up?" he asked. Snape glared at him.

"Get out of here, boy; this doesn't concern you!" he snarled. Alex placed her hand on Snape's shoulder and gave him a warning look. Reluctantly, he backed off.

"You could get us a brandy, Harry," she suggested, and Harry raced off to the kitchen, grateful for the escape route.

Upon bursting into the kitchen, he walked in on Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who looked as though they were engaged in a slightly heated discussion. As soon as they noticed he was in the room, they promptly shut up, which confirmed Harry's suspicions.

"Hello, Harry love," Mrs. Weasley beamed. "Are you alright?"

"I just wondered where you kept the brandy," Harry replied.

"Oh, it's just in the bottom cabinet of the French dresser in the dining room," Mr. Weasley replied, cheerfully. Harry nodded.

"Thanks," he said, before walking out of the door and into the dining room, but not before he heard Mrs. Weasley hiss, "Arthur, it's Christmas Day, it's one meal- they just might all manage to bond a little bit over it. Surely it's worth a try?" before he closed the door to the kitchen.

In the dining Room, Harry found Ginny and Hermione. They had managed to evade interacting with the Order and the Brethren by setting the enormous table for Christmas Dinner- Ginny was pulling the crockery and cutlery out of the various cupboards and drawers, whilst Hermione was conjuring the items onto the table, and attempting to use some spell to fold the serviettes up in pretty shapes. Neither of them had noticed Harry come in.

"As long as we sit far away from him, I don't mind," Hermione said, emphatically. Ginny giggled.

"Oh, come on, Hermione- he was a seventeen year old boy. I'm sure he just thought you'd find it funny." She grinned devilishly. "Or, perhaps he thought you might enjoy it..."

"Ginny!" Hermione snapped, and the crockery she was floating nearly crashed onto the floor.

"What? I'm just saying!" Ginny protested. Hermione blushed.

"Well, don't! How would you feel if Dean suggested that to you, anyway?" she asked, tapping her foot impatiently. Ginny appeared to mull the question over.

"Well, I'd wonder why he thought I was double-jointed," she replied. "I can't see how else it'd work, otherwise... Oh, hi, Harry!" Ginny said, once she looked up and saw Harry standing in the room. Hermione's skin colour was still at least three shades redder than usual.

"Hello, Harry," she said, slightly nervously. "What are you after?"

"The brandy- Alex wants some," he replied. Ginny grinned.

"Oh, I see you've got the fun job of serving drinks. You should have offered to set the table- a lot less interaction involved," she said. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, don't remind me- whose idea was this anyway?" he asked.

"Mum's, I think. I reckon she's the only one who thought it'd be a good one, too. Except maybe Hagrid," Ginny pointed out.

"Although he is an eternal optimist," Hermione added. Harry looked at his watch and groaned.

"How long have we got?" Ginny asked.

"About half an hour until lunch- I don't suppose everyone will leave straight after, will they?" he asked, hopefully. Ginny and Hermione shook their heads.

"Harry- now you're just being naïve," Hermione replied, with a sympathetic smile.

Before long, Harry found himself sitting at the huge dining room table with Ron, Hermione and Ginny. The latter two had apparently calculated the exact table place that would ensure they were at a maximum distance from Snape, who was sitting next to Alex and Persephone. Tonks was sat on Persephone's right hand side, and the two appeared to be aiding each other in staying perpendicular to the table. Lupin was sitting next to Harry, and staring at Tonks and Persephone with a very grim expression. McGonagall, who was also sitting nearby, looked especially thin-lipped. On Ginny's side sat Augustine, who seemed relaxed enough, despite having Ginny gawping at him now and then. Sam was sitting next to him, patiently attempting to stop Faith from wriggling about in her chair.

"I'm hungry!" she moaned. Sam hushed her.

"We'll be eating in a minute. Now just stop fidgeting, there's a good girl," he soothed.

Next to Sam sat Hagrid, who watched Sam and Faith with a look of sympathy etched into his features. He looked up at Harry and gave him a broad smile.

"'Ere, Perseph'ne, 'ave yer brought Frank?" he asked. Persephone looked around the room, bleary-eyed.

"I think sho," she slurred, clambering out of her seat onto the floor, Tonks laughing at her hysterically. Fred and George looked at each other and grinned.

"Frank? Frank? Here, boy!" Persephone called from under the table.

"I'm sure he's around here somewhere- don't worry about it, Persephone," Bill said, languidly.

A bang from under the table shook the wine glasses, and their contents rippled across the surface.

"Oh, bollocksh! I've hurt my head!" Persephone' voice complained from underneath the table. Tonks shrieked with laugher and clapped her hands together, except she kept missing occasionally.

"Sh'not funny!" Persephone retorted, as she clambered ungainly up to her seat, using Snape's lap as a crutch. He soon winced in pain, and Harry assumed that when Persephone had attempted to rest her entire weight on his body, she had missed his thigh.

"Oh, shorry, Dad," she slurred, staring at him in a slightly cross-eyed manner, whilst Tonks continued to screech with laughter.

"It'sh funny from where I'm schitting!" she replied.

Suddenly, a high-pitched yapping sound came closer and closer to Harry's leg. It was definitely Frank, sniffing at the ankles of the various guests sitting at the table.

"Theresh you are!" Persephone exclaimed.

"Hello! Aren't you jusht adorable?" Tonks squealed, swaying slightly as she attempted to reach over her chair to pet the small half-crup. Frank evidently had enough sense to shift out of her way, and instead turned his attention back to Harry.

Hagrid pulled some rock cakes out of his trouser pockets.

"Ere, Perseph'ne- yer don't mind if I give Frank one of these, do yer?" he asked, showing Persephone the rock cake. She stared at it momentarily.

"Not at all- he'll love it, I'm shure. Frank! Look what Rubeush hash got for yoush!" she cooed. Frank looked up at Hagrid and barked, before Hagrid rolled the rock cake towards him. Harry watched with some interest as Frank pushed it around the room with his snout, growling at it as thought it would bite him back at any minute. Hagrid seemed most amused by the little dog's behaviour.

"Heh, heh- are yer enjoin' tha', Frank?" he cooed. Frank woofed happily in reply.

All of a sudden, Faith pointed at Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was sitting directly in front of her, and burst out laughing.

"What is it?" Sam asked, gently. Faith stopped laughing, but still had an eager grin on her face.

"That man's got no hair!" she said, loudly. Alex looked apologetically at Shacklebolt, who seemed to find the whole thing amusing.

"Really, it's okay," he replied, smoothly.

Snape slid his sleeve up his arm and took a brief look at his watch.

"Is it Boxing Day yet?" he muttered under his breath, and received a sharp nudge in the ribs from Alex for his troubles.

"Severus, you're going to enjoy yourself, and that's an order!" she hissed back, though Harry could tell her tongue was firmly placed in her cheek. One look at Snape's expression told Harry he wasn't the only one who had noticed.

At that point, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley entered the room, floating the serving dishes of food out onto the table. The beaming smiles they had plastered to their face suggested to Harry that they were both extremely nervous about how things would turn out. Harry exchanged glances with Ron and Hermione, and he knew he could add them to his unwritten list of people who thought this Christmas gathering was a Very Bad Idea.

"Oh, excshellent! Thish shmells amashing, Mrs. Weasley!" Tonks piped up.

"Yes, it does. It's very nice of you to cook for all of us, Molly," Lupin added, appreciatively. Everyone else followed his lead and made similar gestures of approval. Soon enough, everyone's plate was soon piled high with roast turkey, pork, vegetables, roast potatoes and gravy.

Harry had passed along the applesauce to Hermione, when he noticed that Ginny was staring at Augustine, who appeared unconcerned by the attention he was garnering as he chewed on a mouthful of turkey.

"Do you eat, then?" Ginny asked, evidently curious as to why Augustine was busy consuming a Christmas dinner. He shook his head.

"Not for nutrition, but it does give me something to do at functions," he replied, swirling his wine goblet before taking a sip. Harry noticed, and not without aversion, that he was drinking blood, and with every sip, his canines became a little more pronounced. Ginny, however, seemed awestruck by the transformation of his mouth.

"Wow- what kind of blood is it?" she enquired. Augustine looked quizzically at the glass.

"I don't know- I think it's rude to ask such questions of the host," he replied. Ginny seemed satisfied enough by this response to continue eating her own meal.

Faith, whilst busying herself by making a fort out of her mashed potatoes and cocktail sausages, was humming loudly.

"What are you doing?" Fred asked.

"Defending my plate against enemy Bombers," she replied, without looking up. Fred looked confused.

"What's a Bomber?" he asked.

"They're Muggle flying machines that drop explosive devises onto buildings to destroy them," Mr. Weasley explained. "I had an interesting chat with the Prime Minister about them during a coffee break once."

"Hey, Faith- what about the Bombers that can get in overhead?" Fred asked, at which Faith stopped making a drawbridge out of her slices of turkey and started indignantly at him.

"They won't!" she announced, haughtily. "I've got two cannons here to bring down enemy planes!" She pointed at two cocktail sausages placed on a turret of mashed potato, before continuing with her original humming.

"Fred, stop being cruel!" Mrs. Weasley hissed.

"Mum! I'm just aiding her creativity," Fred protested. Faith appeared to pay no attention, for her humming had become louder and louder.

"We pity... Pity Jason!" she sang, repeatedly, and Harry dropped his goblet upon hearing it. It was the exact same song she had sung in his dream.

The crash of the goblet upon the table suddenly rang in his ears, as did the enthusiastic clapping from Fred and George.

"Well done, Harry!" George said, clapping languidly as he did so.

"We'll have to stop giving you any more wine- even your soak of a sister hasn't dropped anything yet!" Fred added.

"Half-sister," Snape corrected, sourly.

"I make that distinction all the time," Harry snapped back.

"Don't even shtart, either of you!" Persephone ordered, suddenly, before going back to her meal. Tonks pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows, before also continuing to eat.

Lupin placed his hand on Harry's arm.

"Are you alright, Harry?" he asked, quietly. Harry nodded.

"I'm fine," he lied. Lupin looked carefully at him.

"Are you sure?" he probed. Harry nodded.

"Yep- really, I'm fine. I was just startled," he insisted. Lupin turned away, and Harry could tell he had not been convinced one iota by Harry's words. Judging by the way Hermione was now tapping Harry on the arm, she wasn't either.

"What happened?" she asked. Harry shrugged.

"Faith startled me- she sang that song in my dream, and it unnerved me," he replied.

Ron stared at him.

"Well, it would!" he agreed. Hermione frowned.

"Not really- is it a song you've heard before?"

"No- I didn't recognise it before the dream," Harry replied. Hermione continued to frown.

"It's just that I think I recognise the tune," she mused.

"Faith, what are you singing?" Alex asked, suddenly. Faith looked up at her briefly.

"The Pity Jason song!" she replied. Alex looked nonplussed.

"The Pity..." She burst out laughing.

"What?" Faith demanded, hotly. Alex grinned and shook her head.

"It's alright, sweetheart- have you been listening to my old Sex Pistols album by any chance?"

Faith turned a brilliant shade of crimson.

"Might have," she replied, guiltily.

"The song's 'Pretty Vacant', you've just made up the words again, haven't you?"

"I prefer my version- their lyrics are stupid," Faith replied, defensively. Alex shrugged.

"Can't argue with you there," she conceded.

Hermione nudged Harry.

"See? Nothing to worry about- you've probably heard it on the radio, or something; the Sex Pistols are still well known..." She trailed off on spotting Harry's facial expression.

"Oh yeah- can you imagine the Dursleys allowing the Sex Pistols to infiltrate their living room?" he demanded. Hermione looked away.

"I suppose not..."

"And how exactly did I dream up the idea that Faith would make up the words?"

"Because that's what young children do- they hear a song and make the words up themselves into something that makes sense to them!" Hermione insisted. Harry nodded his consent at her opinion, but secretly he didn't feel comforted in the slightest by it. That dream has just been too lucid, too strange, too flowing- he felt sure it meant something.

"Have you had that dream again?" Ron asked, as though he had just read Harry's mind. Harry shook his head.

"No, only the time I told you about," he replied. Ron nodded.

"Then Hermione's probably right- don't worry about it, mate," he soothed.

"Yeah, I know- it was just a coincidence. I'm not worried," Harry lied.

Everyone continued to eat in silence. Persephone and Sam exchanged cynical glances as they sipped at their wine goblets. Even Faith had stopped humming.

"Everyone's miserable!" she complained.

"We're not," Persephone and Tonks piped up. Faith snorted haughtily at them.

"Everyone I'm bothered about is miserable!" she retorted. "Why are we even here, anyway?"

"Faith," Persephone said, in a warning tone.

"Oh, shut up!" she spat, angrily. "I don't care what you think!"

"Do you care what I think, Faith?" Alex asked, in cool tones. Faith looked suitably subdued.

"Sorry, Alex," she replied, before going back to eating her fort in silence.

"It's not going to be much use as a defence system for your plate now," George commented, gently. Faith shrugged.

"I know, but I'm hungry," she replied. George nodded.

"That's as good a reason as any to abandon a post, I suppose," he replied.

"Well," Mr. Weasley announced, brightly, "is everybody glad to be off for a few days- or weeks in some cases?" He winked at Persephone, Snape and McGonagall.

"Donsh't look at me, Arthur- I'm working two jobsh," Persephone pointed out. Arthur nodded.

"Ah, yes," he replied. Persephone tapped her fork gently on the side of her plate and gestured towards Snape and McGonagall.

"Thoshe two are probably relishing a fortnight away from the kidsh though- I'm too new to be that jaded yet," she replied.

"Speak for yourself, I was jaded enough after four months," Snape commented, acerbically. Persephone laughed. McGonagall, however, coughed falsely and fixed Snape with the iciest glare Harry had ever seen.

"Severus," she said, carefully, surreptitiously glancing across at Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny. Snape snorted.

"What? If they're labouring under any delusion that I enjoy teaching them, I've evidently been too subtle these past six years," he said. Harry glanced across at McGonagall, and wondered if it was biologically possible for her lips could get any thinner. He then looked across at Ron, who grinned at him cynically.

"Pity we've only got another six months to be really annoying in our Potions lessons," he remarked, darkly. Harry smiled back, and then noticed Ginny whispering in Hermione ear. Hermione's eyes widened a little, then she stared steadfastly at her plate, and bit her lip so hard, Harry thought she might cut it open.

"Hermione? Are you okay?" Harry asked. Hermione nodded.

"Yes," she replied, her body shaking. Harry soon realised she was trying desperately not to burst into hysterical laughter, and one look at Ginny told him she was attempting the same, although the odd hiccup of a giggle escaped her lips more frequently than it did Hermione's.

"Oh, you two aren't off again, are you?" Fred moaned, whilst George sat laughing at Hermione and Ginny. Harry noticed that Sam was also rather amused by the two girls struggling not to giggle, as was Augustine.

"This young lady's about ready to pop, I think," he chuckled, looking at Ginny.

"I think they need an escape route," Sam added. "I'd help you out, girls, but it's just so much fun watching you!"

"Thanks, Ben!" Hermione choked, as she reached for her goblet to try and take a sip from it.

"You need to do what Houdini did!" Faith piped up.

"Houdini?" Hestia Jones asked. Faith nodded.

"Yeah- he used to get chained up, locked in a trunk and thrown into a huge tank of water, and he'd escape. He got his wife to pass him a key with her mouth, and he'd use that to open the locks, only he wasn't Houdini at all, he was Tony Curtis," she explained, patiently. Alex sighed.

"Oh, you mean 'Houdini'- it was a Muggle film made in the fifties, one of Faith's favourites. Bess would pass a key to Houdini with a kiss..."

"Eww! They'd have to use tongues! How else would you move the key, unless you tried to throw it..." Faith attempted to flick her head forward with her neck to demonstrate her point, then gave up.

"Eurgh!" she reiterated, her facial expression suggesting that Alex had described an act of cannibalism in graphic detail. Her disgust at the very idea of kissing reminded Harry painfully of what Snape had said about her having the emotional maturity of a nine year old.

Ginny and Hermione had calmed down, but now Fred and George were laughing loudly.

"Oh, Faith- you are funny," Fred exclaimed, putting an arm around Faith, who clearly did not appreciate the contact. She screamed loudly, and bolted off her chair, curling up in the nearest corner of the room.

"Faith? I didn't mean to upset you!" Fred stammered, clearly concerned by her behaviour. Augustine got up, and touched Fred's arm.

"It's alright," he said. "Faith can be a little temperamental when it comes to being touched. She'll be fine."

He walked over to where Faith was cowering, crouched down beside her and gently took her hand, speaking so softly to her, that Harry couldn't hear the words. Faith wiped her eyes and sniffed loudly. Soon enough, she let Augustine put his arms around her and cuddle her. Harry looked around the table, and saw that everyone sitting there wore an identical expression of bewilderment and acute discomfort.

"Shall I take her outside for a little bit?" Augustine offered, having seen the looks on everyone's faces. Alex nodded.

"Good idea," she replied. Augustine picked Faith up and carried her out of the dining room.

Persephone sighed heavily, and Harry saw a small tear trickle down her cheek.

"Whasht up?" Tonks asked, loudly, cocking her head to one side in what appeared to be an attempt at a sympathetic manner.

"That useshed to be my job," Persephone replied, quietly. Tonks clumsily put her arms around her.

"Donsht cry- you're my beshtest mate in the whole world! Sho, you shouldn't cry!" she said, liltingly, as she leant her chin on Persephone's shoulder.

The rest of the meal passed with little incident. Harry continued to eat his large Christmas meal well past the point that he was actually full, and listened to the conversations around him. Sam was trying to cajole a red-faced Lupin into talking about his dating history, after making a rather crude comment about Persephone and Tonks friendship that resulted in a smirking Persephone throwing a well-aimed Engorgement hex at him. Whilst Sam was busy stopping the swelling of his nose, Lupin explained, in a voice that Harry thought was possibly a little strained, that he was not in the business of discussing such matters in mixed company, especially not in the detail that Sam clearly required. Harry for one was grateful of this- hearing about his own mother's dating history was more than enough; he didn't need to know that of his parents' friends, too. Everyone hastily struck up conversations of their own- although Harry's couldn't help but notice how amused McGonagall was at the entire scene- and the atmosphere post-main course and pre-pudding was fairly lively.

It was around this point that Alex dropped her bombshell.

"Just so you know- Severus and I are married," Alex announced conversationally, and the entire room fell utterly silent, save for a few goblets falling onto the table and spilling wine over the tablecloth.

"Wow- I should remember that one for when my clashes get overly rambunctious," Persephone commented, in much less of a slur than she had done before eating a large Christmas Dinner. Snape glared at Alex.

"What happened to 'cautiously slipping it seamlessly into conversation'?" he hissed. Alex shrugged.

"Face it- there's no way of breaking this news gently," she replied. Judging by the looks on everyone's faces, Alex's hypothesis was spot-on.

"You're what?" McGonagall snapped, her face pale and her lips practically invisible.

"Since when?" Moody swiftly added.

"Since Monday," Persephone replied. Lupin looked at her with incredulity.

"How did you know about this?" he queried, in a somewhat suspicious tone of voice. Persephone raised her palms in defeat.

"They needed a witness, didn't they!" she replied. Lupin placed the palm of his hand to his forehead in disbelief.

"Hey, I'm not happy about this, but I could hardly go against my dad and my boss, could I?" Persephone protested. McGonagall shook her head.

"You've only known each other five minutes- it's madness!" she exclaimed

"We've known each other since 1979!" Alex retorted. McGonagall surveyed her coolly.

"You met once; then, nineteen years later... How long had this been going on for?" she demanded, staring at Snape with the sternest expression Harry had seen from her in a long time. He coughed.

"Unofficially? June, I suppose..."

"Officially?" Her voice was dangerously low at this point, and Snape seemed to acknowledge the fact.

"October," he replied, quietly. McGonagall managed a short, sharp laugh.

"You mean to tell me, you both got married, what, two months after deciding you ought to start romancing each other?" she demanded. Persephone snorted loudly at this remark; Harry couldn't help but imagine that she had found McGonagall's turn of phrase as comical as he had, for he was currently pretending to cough into a napkin to hide his amusement.

Sam stretched his arms above his head and grunted loudly.

"A Brethrenite, and a Death Eater," he sighed. "It's just like Romeo and Juliet, isn't it? Nice to see you're following in the footsteps of one of the greatest romances of all time, Alex."

"Ben, they died!" Alex exclaimed.

"I rest my case!" Sam retorted.

"Ben has just made a rather good point," Lupin said, carefully. "The two of you have risked a lot by doing what you have..."

"You mean get married? For Merlin's sake, Lupin, it isn't an offensive word!" Snape spat.

"When it's being used to describe the status of you two, I beg to differ!" Moody retorted. Lupin sighed and rubbed his temples with his index and middle fingers.

"Severus, all I'm trying to say is that you've been doing excellent work in a spying capacity. Surely this is going to compromise your efforts?"

Snape and Alex raised their left hands. Harry wondered why, until he saw that neither of them sported wedding rings.

"No rings. No name-changes. No anything that might trace our commitment, save for one piece of paper under our own guard," Snape retorted, somewhat aggressively.

"Then why, Severus? Why do this? It's completely irrational!" McGonagall exclaimed, standing up as she did so. Snape stood up too, his expression one of fury.

"Because, sometimes, circumstances occur that cause one to become irrational! This past year I've felt myself become overwhelmingly irrational- be grateful that this is the only impulse I've acted upon!" he retorted.

"Love is rarely rational, Minerva," Arthur commented, before offering Alex and Snape a weak smile. "I have faith this won't affect your work, and mixing business with pleasure doesn't always lead to disaster," he continued, in a tone that suggested it was more of a warning than blind optimism.

Hagrid coughed, and raised his goblet, tentatively.

"Well, congratulations, Sev'rus, Alex," he said. Snape glared at him.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" he asked, defensively. Hagrid surveyed him cautiously, as though he were a wild animal he was trying to tame.

"It meant 'congratulations'," he replied. Snape looked confused for a moment, then a little relieved. Alex stood up and smiled graciously.

"Thank you, Rubeus- now, is anybody else actually happy for us, by any chance?" she asked, interlacing her fingers with Snape's. Persephone sighed, and half-heartedly raised her goblet.

"It's well and truly messed up, but if you're happy, I'm happy. Ish," she conceded. Hermione and Ginny looked at Ron and Harry's equally horrified expressions, then at each other, before gingerly raising their goblets a little. McGonagall shook her head.

"Nothing good can come of this," she replied, in a shaky voice, before sweeping out of the room. Moody slammed his goblet down on the table with force.

"She's right- I knew Dumbledore had made a mistake with you, Ridley. Same goes for you, Snape- I just hope for your sakes I'm proven wrong," he spat, and with those words, he stood up and stormed off after McGonagall.

Mrs. Weasley entered the room carrying a huge Christmas pudding, and looked around nervously upon seeing the furious expressions upon everyone's faces.

"Anyone for pudding?" she asked, with an anxious grin. Everyone looked at the table, except for Arthur and Persephone, who both raised their hands.

"Please, Molly," Persephone replied, holding out a bowl for Mrs. Weasley to scoop some pudding into. Lupin looked askance at her.

"Persephone!" he hissed. She glared back at him.

"What? Why should we let a perfectly good Christmas pudding go to waste just because we've all had a barney about Al and my dad getting hitched?" she retorted.

Harry and Ron glanced at each other. It was going to be a long school year when they returned to Hogwarts next week.