Keeping Emma

Chapter 12: Christmas Day

Emma awoke on Christmas morning and wrapped herself in the fuzzy pale yellow robe and slippers she had selected the day the people from the clothing store had arrived. She made her way into the bathroom, exhausted. As she grew larger, she was constantly waking up to make bathroom runs. She was nearly six months along now, and was already uncomfortable. In addition to the constant peeing were lower backaches, swollen ankles and constant exhaustion. She didn't want to complain, though. It would only worry everyone needlessly because all this was probably normal and expected during pregnancy.

She made her way back to her bed and crawled back under the covers, rubbing the dull ache in her lower spine. If only Severus were here. Whenever it got like this, he would use his wand to emit a gentle heat and rubbed her lower back. She felt like a prisoner in this place. At least at Hogwarts, Severus had arranged for Hagrid to escort her on a slow stroll up to the gates and back every day, as per Madam Pomfrey's orders.

She and Severus should be celebrating their first Christmas together. She hoped that he found the gifts she had bought him during the weekend before the hearing. It had been difficult. What could you buy a man who eschewed Muggle technology and who could simply use magic to summon most of his needs. So, she'd settled on a pair of nice leather gloves and an onyx and silver keychain of the letter S. She felt under her pillow for the letter she was writing him. The Ambassador said that he would send it tomorrow. She still had trouble wrapping her mind around the fact that he was her father. She kept her hand over that letter and felt tears fall down her face.

The door to her room opened and Natalie poked her head inside. She saw Emma on the bed, crying, and came over. "I came in to see if you were awake. Mrs. Trumbell has apparated to America to spend the holidays with her son and grandkids. She wasn't going to go, but seeing that your mom is here to see to the cooking and everything, we encouraged her to go. Come on, Emma, get up. Your mom is making pancakes and sausages. She says that her cottage cheese pancakes are your favorite. And we want you there to open the presents."

"Oh God, I can't. I feel terrible. It's Christmas. Severus and I should be spending our first Christmas together. My back is killing me. He used his wand to generate some heat and rub it every morning. It's always worse in the morning."

"You need to say something, Emma. We're not mind-readers. Well, Daddy is. He's an extremely proficient Legilimens."

"So is Severus. He used to use it on me all the time. It's one of the things that used to piss me off. But he doesn't do it anymore unless I give him permission."

"Daddy finds it invaluable in his work. In June, the President wants to send him to the Soviet Union because the information my father can get is better than anything the CIA can gather. I'm getting pretty good at blocking it, but I'm not at all gifted in reading other people's minds.

"In June, Severus and I are going to buy a little house in Mulroon. He says he wants me to have a Muggle house so I'll be able to manage better. He is going to apparate to Hogwarts every day and come home for dinner at night next year."

"Emma, I can use my wand and rub your back." She sat on the side of Emma's bed and pulled out her wand.

Emma yawned and said, "Thanks Natalie, that feels so nice."

"That's what sisters are for, Emma," she answered.

Soon, she became aware that Emma had fallen asleep again. The door opened and her father looked in. Natalie put her finger to her lips to signal him to not disturb Emma. She softly got up and left the room, pulling him across the hall and into her room.

"Daddy, we'll have to hold off opening the presents. Emma just fell back to sleep. She's not sleeping well. I hear her getting up at least a dozen times a night. And she's crying a lot. Daddy, are you sure you've judged the Professor correctly? She's told me about a man who makes midnight runs to Honeydukes for cinnamon sticks, who uses his wand to heat and rub her backaches, who is planning to buy her a Muggle house in a Muggle town. Daddy, if you're wrong..."

"I'm not wrong. You were sitting there, listening to that healer from St. Mungos when she told us what she saw him do to her. He hadn't had control of her ten minutes before he did that. What kind of man does that to a young girl? You don't like him yourself. You even said that he is mean, contemptuous and surly in class."

"But he brings her into the Great Hall for dinner at night. He is like a different man around her. We don't know what happened before that healer entered the room or after..."

"It's bad enough I have to live with the guilt of not having been there while she grew up in poverty, having nothing."

"But this isn't about you, Daddy. I know you want to do what's best for Emma, but maybe this isn't what's best. She hasn't even been here a week and she looks terrible. Just because this relationship with the Professor got off to such a horrible start doesn't mean it didn't change. Maybe you should talk to him yourself."

Michael opened the door to Emma's room and walked over to her bed. He stood, staring down at her for several seconds. She looked so much like a little girl. At eighteen, she appeared younger than Natalie, even younger than her mother had at seventeen, probably because she was so tiny. The pregnancy looked so odd on her, anachronistic, like a child wearing an adult's clothing. It seemed to dwarf her, consume her. He reached out to smooth her hair back from her face and saw the streaks left by her tears. He so ached to take her in his arms and hold her, but she had not given any sign that she would welcome the physical displays of affection that he took for granted with Natalie. She still called him Ambassador.

He left the room and saw Natalie still standing in the hall. "I'll personally deliver the letter she is writing to him tomorrow afternoon. I'll talk to him."

Emma came walking out to the kitchen about an hour later, still in her robe and slippers, yawning. "I'm sorry, everyone. I've not been getting very much sleep lately."

"It's okay, Emma," said Viola. "I saved some of the pancake batter. Sit down here, baby." Then she took a bowl of batter from the fridge and poured it into the waiting pan.

As Emma sat down, Natalie asked, "Is your back feeling any better, Emma?"

"Yeah, it does. Thanks Nat," said Emma.

"Emma, on Tuesday, I will have the driver take you and your mother to St. Mungo's. I want you to be checked out. Okay?"

"Sure, it's probably a good idea. Madam Pomfrey had been giving me some Strengthening Potion and a blood clearing tonic. She said it would help eliminate toxins from my blood. I left them in the hotel Severus and I were staying in on Monday so I haven't had any ever since."

"Emma, why didn't you say something? I'm going to take your letter to Hogwarts myself tomorrow afternoon. I'll make sure to bring back your potions," said Michael. "You really should have said something, Emma."

"I didn't want to be a bother," she said, "and then, it just sort of went out of my head," she said as her mom placed the plate of pancakes in front of her.

"Daddy," said Natalie. "I think Mrs. Trumbell has Strengthening Potion in her medicine cabinet. Let me go check." She got up and ran out of the kitchen to the short hall that led to the housekeeper's suite. Soon, she came back with a familiar looking bottle and put it on the table in front of Emma.

"Thanks," said Emma as she poured a bit into her juice. "It tastes like crap, so I always mix it with something to help it go down. These pancakes are great, Mom. Are there any green olives?"

Michael got up and found a jar of green olives in the refrigerator and put them on the table. He stared in horror as Emma began dipping them in syrup.

"Thank you Ambassador."

"Emma, do you think you could call me something else, like dad, or daddy, or even father? No matter what you decide in ninety days, I'm not stepping out of your life now that I've found you. You are going to have to get used to having a father."

Emma smiled her first real smile all week. "Eighty-six days. Not ninety. It'll have to be Dad, I guess. Daddy is too familiar; father sounds too priest-like."

"Ah, but Poppy will get you out of trouble if you've done something wrong," said Natalie, mischief sparkling in her eyes. "And Daddy always works if you're hitting him up for some extra spending money."

Viola giggled. "That's so funny. I remember that Mikey would get him to agree to sit through a chick-flick at the movies."

"My mother used to say that too," said Natalie, laughing.

"Wonderful, to come to find out the women in my life have been playing me all along," Michael said in a mock-tragic tone. "Maybe I should call Santa to have him come take back all those Christmas presents under the tree."

Natalie got up screaming, "No, no, no, no," as she ran into the parlor and dove under the tree.

Emma sat there, not knowing if she should go into the parlor or not. She felt as if she and her mother were barging in on someone else's family tradition. She and her mom had never had a Christmas tree, or done anything special for the holiday.

Michael got up from the table and began to walk into the parlor, stopping to look back. "Well, are you coming?" he asked. "If you don't she claims all the presents under some squatters' rights provision in the Natalie moral code."

Emma and her mother walked into the parlor to see Natalie sitting under the tree with her legs folded like a pretzel. She'd conjured a red fuzzy Santa cap and a necklace of red and green garland. Michael sat on a side chair and motioned for Emma and Viola to be seated on the white couch.

"Natalie always distributes the presents," said Michael. "Do the two of you have any special holiday traditions?"

"Mom always had to work the Christmas Brunch Buffet at the restaurant, so we never really celebrated. When I was little we couldn't really afford Christmas. We just bought some little thing for each of us that we needed and opened them after mom got home from work and ate something she brought home from the restaurant. By the time we could afford to do something a bit more, I was older. By then, it was too late to start traditions."

"I remember once I took Emma to the department store so she could see the Santa. I'd saved my tips for days to be able to get a five dollar photo of her on Santa's lap. But Emma had become increasingly nervous as the line got shorter and shorter. When it was her turn, I prodded her forward and he had reached out to her to pull her onto his lap and she had freaked out, screaming, and crying. She ran away, and they had to call security to lock the doors. A saleslady had finally found her in a fitting room. Do you remember that, Emma?"

"Not really. I do remember being lost in a store and finding that fitting room and the saleslady finding me. I just thought I'd gotten away from you," said Emma. "I never liked the whole idea of Santa very much. The thought that some strange man might be sneaking into our apartment was always scary. Besides, Mommy, you always told me that there was no such thing as Santa, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy. Wait a minute. Whenever we went to the library and I wanted to check out the fairy tale books, you wouldn't let me. You always told me there was no such thing as witches and wizards and magic. It sounds like you kept a secret of your own there, Amb....Dad."

"No, Emma," said Viola. "He told me. He even did magic in front of me, like casting spells to get people to let us go right to the head of the line for movie tickets and heating my coffee when we'd sat in some diner somewhere holding hands so long it had gotten cold. After, I began to believe I'd just imagined it, or he was tricking me somehow. I'd managed to convince myself it hadn't been real...same as with religion."

"I remember that you were Catholic, Viola. Didn't you raise Emma Catholic?"

"No, I stopped going to church a long time ago. When my parents tossed me out, I tried going to our priest to see if he'd talk to them. He asked me to come into his office to pray for guidance. When I did, he grabbed me and started tearing my clothes off. I got away from him, leaving my coat behind. It was February in Buffalo. All I had was the clothes on my back and now I had no coat and my top was half torn off me. It made me see reality real fast."

Emma had never heard this story before. "What did you do?"

"I went to the Salvation Army Store to see if they'd help, but they only wanted to sell me stuff, and I had no money. So, I waited until they closed and I raided the big drop-off donation bins in the parking lot. I stole a coat, some gloves, a few sweaters, jeans. I realized I could even sleep in the bins. All that stuff kept me pretty warm that winter. I was actually safer there than in the shelters with all the drunks and drug addicts. There was the occasional hazard of sleeping in there and having a toaster land on you, but it wasn't so terrible."

"Mommy, do you remember that time we went to the park and somebody had that pretty blue living room chair thrown out on the tree lawn with their garbage? We loaded it on my wagon and walked it all the way back across town and dragged it upstairs. Once we got it up to our apartment, we found out why the rich people had thrown it out. It reeked of cat pee; it stunk up the entire apartment. So, we dragged it back downstairs and put it out for the trash. For months, we kept seeing it around the neighborhood as different people kept thinking they had hit the jackpot and had to toss it. We made a game of it. Every week, on garbage day, we'd go walking around looking for the chair. That was so much fun."

"That was fun," said Viola, laughing. "Then there was the time that we were hanging out in the Farmer's Market, waiting for it to close. Lots of time they would sell leftovers for pennies. This one guy gave us a box of tomatoes. We had nothing but those tomatoes to eat for a week. I've always thought that was the reason you hate tomatoes so much."

"Then there was the time when I first started going to the Nichols School. They called you in because I'd been caught hiding in the bathroom during lunch time. Everyone kept asking me why I wasn't eating the school lunch. So I finally had to own up and admit that I didn't want all these rich kids to know I was on the free lunch list. At the old school it hadn't mattered because everyone was on it. But at this school, they gave you this big lime green card that you had to wear around your neck on a piece of yarn all day and everyone knew you were one of the charity students."

"Oh, Emma, remember how we used to make wish sandwiches?"

Natalie looked up, a stricken look on her face. "What's a wish sandwich?" she asked.

"You take two pieces of bread, put them together," said Emma.

"And you wish you had some meat to put between them," said Viola as they both dissolved into gales of laughter, tears running down their faces.

Suddenly, Emma clamped her legs together and doubled over.

"Oh my God, Emma, what's wrong?" Viola said, frightened.

"I...I...I just peed myself laughing," said Emma, her face turning red. "Is the couch okay?" She got up and looked, but it appeared to be dry. "Oh, thank goodness. I'll be right back." Emma left to go back to her room to clean up and put some clothes on, hearing her mother laughing at her as she left the room.

Michael and Natalie were appalled. They were looking at each other like they were going to be ill.

Viola was wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She looked from Natalie to Michael and back again. "What's the matter?" she asked.

"That wasn't funny, Viola," said Michael.

"Oh, Michael, the couch is fine. It happens sometimes when you're pregnant," she said.

"Not the couch," he said, exasperated. "I can't stand the thought of the two of you having to live like that. It's tragic."

"Tragic? Oh, please. Tragic is a freaking brain tumor, or having to bury your only child. Anything that doesn't kill you makes you stronger. I admit, it wasn't funny at the time, but it is now."

Emma came back out, having changed into a deep green maternity dress with long sleeves and a turtleneck. "Sorry about that," she said. "Anyway, Natalie, maybe you should start opening your presents now."

Natalie smiled halfheartedly. "Okay," she said, "This one here has your name on it, Emma." She used her wand to float it over to her.

Emma smiled to see that the tag said "To Emma, From Santa" on it. She slipped off the red ribbon and pulled open the wrapping paper. It was a long thin box from Harrods. She opened it and gasped to see a beautiful gold bracelet with her name spelled out in script, paved in diamonds. "It's...it's beautiful," she stammered. "I've never had anything like this before."

"Put in on, Emma," said Natalie. "It was my idea. I have one too. Daddy got it for me last Christmas."

Michael got up from his end of the couch and knelt in front of her. He lifted the bracelet out of the box and held it between his hands, waiting for her to put her wrist on it. He brought the ends together and clasped it around her tiny wrist.

"Thank you," she said, embarrassed because she was so unaccustomed to receiving presents.

"You're welcome, Emma," he said. "I am sorry, Emma. I'd do anything to go back and change things for you if I could. I wouldn't have ignored you. I'd have made sure that you and your mother were safe and had everything you needed. My wife was a wonderful woman. It would have been hard for her at first, but she'd have understood."

"I don't want you to feel guilty. I actually think I had a pretty happy life growing up," said Emma.

"Well," said Natalie. "Look at this. This one has your name on it, Viola." Once again, she floated it over to Viola.

Viola unwrapped the silver wrapping and saw the same box that Emma had. Inside was the same bracelet, with her name spelled out in sparkling pave diamonds as well. "Oh, Michael, it is gorgeous, but you shouldn't have."

"Of course I should have," said Michael. "You deserve it for having raised a beautiful and sweet daughter. Here, let me put it on you."

As Michael clasped the bracelet around Viola's wrist, Natalie squealed out, "Oh, and who is this one for? It says...it says Natalie! I guess this is mine." She decimated the wrapping paper on the large heavy package, sticking her tongue out at her father as he rolled his eyes and shook his head.

It was a round shallow stone basin with markings around it that Emma recognized as runes from the handle of Severus' wand. "Oh, I've seen one of those in Professor Dumbledore's office," she said. "What is it? I never asked."

"Oh Daddy! Thank you," squealed Natalie. "It's a pensieve! I've wanted one of these forever! You use it to remove memories from your own or someone else's mind and you can relive them as an observer, maybe noticing things you had not noticed before."

By now, Natalie was opening yet another present to herself. This one was a pretty green dragonskin jacket and matching gloves. She handed another to Emma, saying that it was from her.

Emma opened it to find a beautiful white and pink outfit for the baby. It was a tiny dress, with a skirt of stiff accordion pleats, all white with tiny pink rosebuds and a matching ribbon to put around the head, socks and little shoes.

"It's so pretty, Natalie. Thank you," said Emma.

"It's so much fun, knowing I'm going to be an aunt. I'm going to spoil that baby rotten, you know. I never thought I'd ever get to be an aunt unless I married someone with nieces and nephews."

By now, Natalie was diving under the tree again. By the time all the presents had been opened, Emma had amassed a pile made up of leather gloves, more baby clothes, nice warm sweaters, and a new watch that Natalie swore had been charmed so it would work even at Hogwarts.

Natalie helped Emma carry her presents to her bedroom while Viola and Michael went into the kitchen to start Christmas dinner. Emma went into her bathroom to brush her hair again, leaving the door open as Natalie chattered on. Emma found she liked the incessant chatter. It helped to keep her from her own less than happy thoughts. As she looked into the mirror, she wished it was a magic mirror that she could use to see Severus.

"...if you want. I think it would really look fantastic."

Emma started. She realized that she had lost track of whatever it was Natalie was talking about. "Uh...yeah, it would look...fantastic," she said, wondering what the hell it was she was agreeing to.

"Oh, this is so great," Natalie said, running into the bathroom and grabbing Emma's hand. She pulled Emma out of her room and across the hall to her own room. "Sit down right here," she said, standing at the mirrored vanity and pulling out the little chair. Emma walked across the room and sat.

"Okay. Now the trick is to not move. If you think it's going to make you nervous, just close your eyes so you don't see them."

"Okay," Emma said, closing her eyes and wondering what she'd gotten herself into.

"Capillus Perseco," said Natalie.

Suddenly, Emma heard the sound of scissors near her head. She felt sections of her hair being lifted and locks of it being cut off. After about five minutes, the noise stopped and she opened her eyes.

"There, see?" said Natalie. "All you really needed was a good cut. The magical scissors always know exactly the right cut for everyone's type of hair and shape of face. I think I'll see if your mom wants her hair done too. The two of you have the same shape face and same hair color."

The center part Emma had worn all her life was gone. Her hair was now parted on the side, with long bangs that swept over her forehead. Long layers made her hair less curly, with the curls, looser now, starting at the chin and falling just past her shoulders. It made her eyes look larger and her cheekbones more prominent. She had to admit, it really was an improvement.

"With your little heart-shaped face, you really can't have a lot of volume at the top," Natalie said. "When we take you to St. Mungo's on Tuesday, I'm going to ask Daddy if we can go shopping so we can get you some make-up. Are you always this quiet?"

"I guess I am. I never really had any friends growing up. When I was little, I had to be quiet a lot because my mom used to sneak me into the back storage room at the restaurant she works in so she wouldn't have to pay a babysitter. I would just sit there on boxes of canned peaches and read or nap while she worked."

"When you got killed, I read all about you being valedictorian of your class and winning a full college scholarship and that state math competition. That was so weird, reading about you, wondering if I'd lost the only sister I'd ever had and never even knew it. I was so pissed. Then Daddy found out you were alive and promised he'd get you back. I told him that he should just announce to the Ministry that he was your father, but he didn't want you to hear it like that. When I spoke to you on the stairs that day I wanted to tell you the truth. But I was worried that he would hide you away if he knew that your father was fighting to take you away from him. Have you chosen a name for the baby yet?"

Emma didn't think she'd ever get used to the girl's habit of hopping from topic to topic at breakneck speed. "I like the name Allison Elyse."

"That is a pretty name. I like it too. Let's see if it works." Natalie dropped to her knees and called, "Allison, do you hear me?" directly into Emma's stomach. The baby gave a hard kick. Emma grabbed Natalie's hand and placed it on her stomach just as the baby did another. "Oh, see? She knows her name! Now you have to use that one. That is so cool, Emma. Does it hurt?"

"No, it doesn't hurt. Sometimes, though, I feel like she has her feet wedged between my ribs and they ache."

The door to Natalie's room opened and Viola came in carrying a tray with sandwiches and tall glasses of milk. "I thought you girls might like a little lunch," she said. Then she noticed Emma's hair. "Oh, Emma your hair looks so pretty. Did you do this, Natalie?"

"Yes, with my magic scissors. Do you want yours done too? You have the same shape face as Emma, so the magic scissors will probably do yours the same way."

"Magic scissors, huh? Sure, why not? I'm game." Emma got up so her mother could sit at the vanity. "Close your eyes, Mommy, and you have to hold still," she said.

Once more, Natalie spoke the magic words to make the scissors do their thing. Emma watched, fascinated, as her mother's hair joined her own on the bedroom carpet.

Later, as Emma lay in her bed, her mom came into the room to see if she needed anything. She lay down next to Emma and placed her arm around her, feeling her grandchild moving beneath her hand. Viola softly hummed lullabies until she knew that Emma was asleep. Then she slowly got up, taking care not to jostle the bed, and returned to her own room. As she put her hand on her doorknob, Michael appeared at the end of the hall.

"Viola," he said, walking toward her, "is Emma asleep?"

"Yes," she answered sleepily. "I nearly fell asleep with her."

Michael reached out and ran his fingers through her hair. "I like your hair this way, Viola. It reminds me of how it looked when we met. And this morning when you were laughing, I realized that I'd forgotten how much I used to love hearing you laugh." He slipped his other arm around her waist and pulled her to him, lowering his head to kiss her.

Viola put her hands on his chest and pulled away from him. "No, Michael, we can't."

"Why not? I'm free, and you're over twenty-one this time."

Viola smiled sadly. "What I meant to say is that I can't, Michael. You're a wonderful man. But I am not a wonderful woman. I've done so much wrong, made so many stupid decisions. I look at you and remember the girl I was. That's who you are remembering too. Compared to that girl, I'm a piece of human garbage." Viola turned, opened the door to her room, and entered, closing it firmly behind her.