Sirius was hurting. His entire body was stiffened with the burning pain of the hate-filled magic inflicted upon him. He stumbled through the snow, falling to his knees, grunting as his trunk knocked into his sore back. He looked up, silver-grey eyes swimming in tears of three kinds of pain before staggering back to his feet.
It had been nothing short of a miracle, managing to escape. Still, it was all over now.
He was free to go home.
Harrius Potter gazed lovingly upon his sleeping wife's beautiful features before kissing her back awake. They'd had a late night in the Ministry and she'd been about ready to fall asleep before taking the Floo network home. He smiled warmly as her clear, hazel eyes met his green ones.
"Mm? What is it?"
"Time for bed, I think."
Stretching before sitting up, Dorea looked into the light green shades of her husband's eyes. "What's the time, sweetheart?"
"Nearly midnight," Harrius told her, extending a hand to help her up. "Best get to somewhere more comfortable than our sofa for a night's retreat."
"Christmas Day will be coming soon," Dorea said, grabbing his hand. "Wouldn't it be wonderful if Sirius could join us?"
"It would," Harrius agreed. "Be just wonderful, but he wrote, didn't he, to say-"
"Yes, I know. But it would be nice."
"It would be." Allowing his wife to walk before him, Harrius pointed his wand at the lamp which cast their living room in a pale warm glow. "Nox."
His lungs were burning, straining, yet he could see the house, he could see his salvation and he struggled on. The snow, traitorous as it was beautiful, had dampened his clothing and the cold was killing him, he was sure, but it wasn't long now and he could make it if he kept going...
James turned over on his bed. He loved coming home, especially at Christmas when there were multi-coloured lights, his mother's scented candles spreading the scent of cinnamon, ginger and apples, amazing presents, and his dad's cooking to look forward to, but there was something missing. Something with grey eyes, long black hair and a tendency to turn into a large dog before attacking you.
Sirius wasn't there this year and it seemed just wrong. He always came a week before Christmas, always had done and this year seemed empty without his best friend there. He'd written Remus to see if he could come, but had gotten a very apologetic 'no', which had been understandable. Peter's response had been the same.
He had his mum and dad, and he loved them, but he wanted his honorary brother with him at Christmas too.
He knew he wouldn't be getting any sleep that night. Sliding out of bed, he walked over to his window, resting his arms on the sill, staring out into the whirling flakes that passed the pane. Orange streetlights illuminated the icy ground below and he focused on a dark figure making its way up the road.
Ragged, slow, limping. James narrowed his warm, hazel eyes, trying to see what exactly this was. Who it was. He noticed a rectangular, solid object being pulled along by this person and his heart began to simultaneously thump and squeeze.
It couldn't be...
"Sirius?"
He could see the house. He could see it with its little pine tree on the front lawn, the twinkling lights like colourful, lit-up jewels lighting up the front door. He walked on, though his legs felt stiff and he stumbled. Snow, burning cold, crumbled in his hands and in that moment, he felt so weak, he stayed where he was, not caring if he froze to death.
"Sirius!"
Was that them? He twisted his head around, panicking, only to see that they were truly not in sight. He was safe from them. He glanced ahead, noticing three figures as they made their way towards him, one clad in violet, the other two in blue.
Not knowing, or caring, who these people were, he allowed himself to limpen and welcomed the darkness of sleep.