She woke to screaming, surprisingly it was her own, and not the baby's. Stumbling blindly in the direction of the kitchen, she flicked her wand at the kettle to ready her tea. Turning to reach for her cup she glanced at the calendar.
She froze as she saw the date. A year, three-hundred and sixty-five days since the war ended. Eight-thousand seven-hundred and sixty hours since James and Lily were murdered, gone forever, Harry sent to Lily's muggle sister, alone.
Five-hundred twenty-five thousand six-hundred seconds since she left. No wonder she woke up screaming.
Walking through the shops pushing Trinity in her pram, Jamie Black couldn't't help but wonder what James, and the others would have thought of the American holiday of Thanksgiving. Sirius would no doubt find it brilliant, an entire day dedicated to eating. Shaking off her melancholy thoughts, she pulled a stuffed turkey dressed as a pilgrim from the shelf and placed it in her daughters wildly waving arms.
Christmas morning, did Harry have presents, had Draco received the gifts she sent.
How on earth was she going to explain her leaving, not to mention his infant daughter to Severus when Albus finally tricked him into touching the port key.