"When daffodils begin to peer with heigh the doxy over the dale, why, then comes in the sweet o' the year; For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale." - William Shakespeare, The Winter's Tale

'It's so calm…' Eli Masters thought, apathetic of the notion, given everything that had been happening. The steady tapping of sleet was a welcoming calm amongst the tribulations of the world. Soft humming of Mrs. Masters could be heard down the hall, echoing against the bathroom walls like a specter's song. Eli lay complacent on the bed, hands folded under the coolness of his pillow. A long, tired sigh escaped his lips. He hated waiting. Worse than that, he hated lying to those he cared about. He never wanted to deceive Cordelia. 'It's for the best,' he had decided on their last meeting. 'I love her too much to let her know everything…she can't know.'

"Eli? You alright? You didn't come down for dinner." Layla Masters appeared at her son's side and kneeled by his bed. Eli didn't remove his gaze from the ceiling, his thoughtful, cerulean eyes fixed on the endless lines in the wood planks. Layla's delicate fingers weaved through Eli's hair tenderly as she studied his anxious features. "So quiet. What's troubling you?"

"Nothing I'm sure you don't already know." he replied, his voice quiet but mirthful.

Layla nodded once, a soft grin lighting her features. "I have to ask. Nagging my son is my obligation as a mother."

The cool touch of his mother's fingers on his cheek stirred Eli's senses and his gaze turned to Layla's beautiful face. His blue eyes softened like water and he couldn't help but smile sadly. "I know, Mum. I'm just over thinking. Winter Break is almost over and I hate that you're here by yourself while I'm at Hogwarts."

The corners of Layla's eyes wrinkled with an amused smirk. "You're too young to be worrying about your mother."

"In this day and age, what kind of son would I be if I didn't worry?"

"A happier son." Layla replied softly.

Eli's brow furrowed and he grabbed her hand softly. "Mum, I am happy. Honest."

"A hungry son is not a happy son. Let me bring up a plate."

Come to think of it, his stomach had been churning uncomfortably. "If you insist."

Layla nodded and left the room. Her footsteps faded down the hall and into the kitchen where she rummaged about. Eli sat up and rubbed the back of his neck wearily. His blue eyes found the framed photo of Cordelia on his bedside table, her features glowing as she laughed, waves of black dancing around her shoulders. Suddenly pained by her smile, Eli flattened the picture and closed his eyes, unable to rid himself of his unease. The young man was right to feel apprehensive, for the quiet of the darkness outside was far more deceitful than Eli may have felt for his lies.

In fact, the discreet gloom of the night was more than welcoming to the hooded figures that surrounded the house, wrought with ill intentions. They murmured to one another with words escaping as soft puffs in the wind. Only the faint silhouette of a morbid smile could be seen from under one of the cloaks as it approached the threshold.

Red sparks hurtled towards the door, knocking it violently from its hinges. There was a blinding flash of emerald and muffled screams from within, and like a strike of lighting after thunder, it was done.

"It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to, than I have ever known." - A Tale of Two Cities

Cordelia awoke with a jerk. Her hand touched her cheek and, to her surprise, found it wet with tears. Sitting up and groaning loudly, she looked around the empty bakery, realizing she must have drifted off during her closing shift. A half empty mug of black coffee and an open copy of Oliver Twist lay forgotten on the table, (the words at the bottom left corner of page 34 smudged from her involuntary crying). In contrast to her disheveled state, the shop was seemingly in order. Damp spots riddled the wooden floor from when it had been recently scrubbed down and the chairs all sat neatly placed on the tables. The air was cool, which meant the ovens had long been extinguished and the doors and windows properly secured.

"You win this one, Mr. Dickens." Cordelia commended the muggle author of her novel with a yawn, grabbing the book and tripping gracelessly over the mop lying next to her as she trudged towards the back room and up the attic stairs. A puff of flour tickled her nose as she removed her soiled apron, and hung it on a hook by the door. It had been another long day.

Cordelia glanced around her room once, kicked off her shoes and, unfazed by the dull thump that sounded after carelessly tossing her book onto the floor, fell face first onto the bed. The nightly visions of dark cloaks and mindless destruction were becoming a painful nuisance, and Cordelia hoped they wouldn't disturb the rest of her night.

Unfortunately, the next morning had failed to bring anything bright into Fenwick Café & Confections on Diagon Alley. Cordelia lay for a moment longer in bed, listening to the gentle pattering of rain on her window, unwilling to leave the warmth of her comforter so quickly. The summer had come and gone before she even realized she was supposed to be on vacation from her Hogwarts studies. Too bad. There was still a pile of books in the corner from her friend Remus she wanted to read. Then again, distracting herself with mundane tasks had been her priority for quite some time now. If she wasn't busy, she was thinking, and her thoughts had been anything but pleasant since the incident.

The rain's steady tapping seemed taunting and uncaring of all the world's problems as of late. People were disappearing every day. Acts of violence were becoming more frequent. The Daily Prophet was calling it 'The Dark War'. Cordelia had been avoiding the headlines and articles, the lists of missing persons growing regularly to the point of overwhelming. Who would be missing from Hogwarts this term? Students? Teachers? Friends? 'There I go again…dwelling,' she thought solemnly. Cordelia was no stranger to loss, but it was something she was sure she couldn't go through again. 'Once is one time too many…' Instead, she thought of her books, her respite, her escape. Dickens and Wilde had become welcoming allies. She reminded herself to thank Remus the next time she saw him. He always had great taste in literature.

As she stirred, she was half aware of the pressure on her bed and chest. Still in her early-morning daze, Cordelia yawned loudly and pried her eyes open. Barely an inch from her face was a dark, wet snout.

"GAH! Bloody-!" Cordelia screamed and met the floor hard as she flailed out of bed, tangled in her sheets. "Ow. I broke my arse." A series of excited barks came from above her and she glared at the hairy black mutt brave enough to disturb her sleep. "Sirius, you are a hell spawn, you know that?"

The dog's barking turned into an amused laugh as skin replaced fur, and feet and hands replaced paws. A young man took the dog's place on the bed, and continued to snicker. "It's a gift. One day you'll come to respect it." Cordelia chucked her pillow hard at his pretty face. Sirius caught it with a snatch of his arms and grinned at her with a smile similar to her own. "You look horrid."

"Says my twin who, by default, must look just as horrid." Cordelia scoffed, untangling her feet from her blankets. "The shop's not open yet. Who let you in here?"

Sirius leant a hand to help his sister off the floor. "Benji, of course. He loves to torment you almost as much as I do."

"Snarky sod," she growled, rubbing her rump with a painful grimace.

"Good man." Sirius mused. He made himself comfortable on the bed, resting his hands behind his head. "He mentioned something about meeting up with Emmeline for breakfast. He also thanks you in advance for helping Leroy set up shop in his place."

Cordelia plopped down next to him. "Correction: snarky and lazy." Benji Fenwick, a master at 'tormenting' as he may have been, was also one of Cordelia's closest friends outside of the marauders and one of the few people who could keep up with her dry humor. More importantly, he offered her a place to stay when she had nowhere else to go. Sirius had fellow trouble-maker James Potter, and she had the unforgivingly wry and witty Benji Fenwick. And although his father's bakery didn't seem like much, it was the first place Cordelia had ever considered home.

Another grin lit Sirius' face. "Speaking of Leroy, he's been wondering about you. He keeps pestering me about it as if we have some kind of psychic connection or something." He rolled his eyes. "Bit annoying, really."

Cordelia's eyes softened. "He's just looking out for me. I can't say I blame him for being worried."

Sirius studied his sister's identical ashen eyes, searching for something. He may have acted like an arse, but he was a well-meaning one, and he knew Cordelia was good at concealing her problems…almost as good as he was. "If it's any consolation, you've gotten better, 'Dee. And I'm not just saying that."

"I suppose you of all people would know. Thanks, Siri," Cordelia replied, standing with a stretch and walking over toward her vanity to prepare for the day.

"We just have to wean you off these bloody books." Sirius grumbled, snatching a copy of Great Expectations off the bedside table. "I blame Moony for this. He's gotten you obsessed."

"Rightly so." Cordelia quipped, running a brush through her charcoal tresses. "If you ever bothered read anything in your life, you might actually come to appreciate fine literature."

"Oiy, 'Delia! You awake yet?!"

Cordelia rolled her eyes in amusement, temporarily ignoring the bakery owner's summoning. Leroy Fenwick was the father she never had, incredibly kind hearted, if not a little socially awkward. He never pestered or pried about her personal matters but was always there to listen and offer advice when asked. There weren't enough men like him in the world. But, alas, he was a working man and demanded nothing less than one hundred percent efficiency when it came to his beloved bakery. Leroy's voice rang up the stairs again. "Come on, 'Delia! I've gotta get these scones in the oven!"

Sirius stood to take his leave. "I suppose I'll be off then. You'll remember to come by Flourish & Blotts after work, yeah? James and the guys wanted to finish up on school supplies for some awful reason."

Cordelia waved her hand and began to shove him out the door. "Right right, I'll remember. I'll make sure Ben bring Emmeline along too."

Sirius clamped his hands to the door frame, ceasing further movement. "Emma? Why?" he groaned. "She's so…aggressive."

With a knowing smirk, Cordelia chuckled in reply. "After rudely waking me this morning, she's the least of your worries."

Managing to completely shove Sirius out the door, Cordelia turned to the window and breathed in deeply as a roll of far-off thunder brought on another wave of rain. She looked down at her hand, studying the deep amber jewel on her index finger. "Looks like a storm again today, Eli…but that was always your favorite…"