Hello, I just want to say that, even though the characters in this story are not having the best of Christmas's I want to wish you the very best of Christmas's. I hope your season is filled with joy, relaxation and fun. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything.

Edit: I thought I'd be getting this up before Christmas, but there was so much going on! I had a great Christmas, so I am wishing everyone a Happy New Year full happiness, health, love and friendships.

Winter has got to be my least favorite when it comes to the seasons. The temperature chills me to the bone, but it's not enough to turn the precipitation into a winter wonderland. Instead, the snow is wet, sloppy and it soaks through my clothes, and my boots. Most importantly, it soaks through the hole in my left boot which in turn soaks my socks leaving my whole day to be in ruin.

My hands can not be warmed because I am missing one glove. I lost it in a fight in which I was submerged into during a raid. The graze of a bullet against my ribs isn't helping me in the least bit. My mood could not be any lower, and the opinions I am going to be faced with will make me feel lower than I already do.

But I am late as it is, and I am sick. My nose feels like its going to fall off, my eyes are crusty, and my throat is dry. I have an obligation even though I want to be in bed.

I enter Grimmauld Place. The raised voices coming from the kitchen tell me that not everyone is on the same page, and not everyone will agree with the course of action that is to take place.

Great.

I wipe my nose with my sleeve and come away with a little blood from my split lip. I suck on it to clear it away, and the taste of metal hangs in my mouth, and soon to be in my stomach.

My legs are very shaky as it is, but they feel more shaky than ever. I feel like I'm walking on jell-o. I take slow steps and with a sudden nervous, and shaky hand I push open the door and all the conversations cease from going on, and all eyes are on me.

I am wearing a hood and hat, but even so, my 'original' face is 'showing' and everyone has noticed. Alastor rises from the table with his wand pointed at me- as does Kingsley.

Oh great. They think I'm a Death Eater. At this point, I really should've considered going to home instead. I don't think anyone would've even noticed that I wasn't here.

"Remove your hood Nymphadora!" barks Alastor.

Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape watch with straight faces, but I can tell that underneath, they are content.

"I don't think that's a great idea."

"Now! Prove who you are."

My hands go up, just like the time I was caught by the Muggle Police Officers. That was another great time; just like the time I am having right now.

I sigh. "I'm going to put my wand on the table. When you see me completely please do not fire. Ask me any question that you want to. No question can be off limit if it is to prove who I am."

I take my only glove off and drop it on the table. My hand, both my hands, are red and raw. There is nothing feminine about my nails.

Slowly I undo my scarf. I set it on the table. There's a chill in here that seeps the wet of the snow deeper through my clothes. I shiver. My hands feel suddenly even more shaky. This doesn't help my case. I sneeze, and wipe my nose again. My sleeve shows a sign of snot.

No one blesses me. Great.

I pull down my hood, and take off my hat. Crazy curly hair goes everywhere. It's a mess, and flat from the hat at the same time. I look like my aunt, and it shows on the eyes of those surprised. I can't metamorph because, well, for a lot of reasons, and everyone knows who my family is, and yet it's a surprise I look like someone a lot of people fear.

My hands go up again because I have yet to prove myself. Everyone can see the shaking, and I can feel the pain of possibly a broken rib, and the wound of the grazed bullet.

Weakly, with a dry throat I proclaim, "this is the real me. Tada!"

It does not go over.

"Ask me something I would only know, Alastor."

My legs are really tired. I want to sit; not as much Alastor and Kingsley though. They would stand to prove their point. I would question me too, but I am not in the mood.

"Nymphadora…"

I give him a look. I am going to change my name one day.

"Who was the first dark wizard you ever apprehended, and what was the crime."

I keep myself from rolling my eyes. "James Arlington. He murdered a family of four in their very own sitting room."

He nods. I've got him convinced. Barely. If that's all I am going to get then I'm okay with that.

I put my hat back on, but leave the hood off.

I want to be sarcastic and question, 'anyone else?' but I just squeeze in next to Severus Snape. I ease down onto the bench with a sigh. It has really been a busy day.

I listen to conversations around me. I do not put my two-sense in. My mouth is very dry. I can hear my breathing. I hope it was only a graze. I really do not want to go to St. Mungos tonight, but I don't think I will have a choice.

At the end while some leave, and Molly starts to cook I excuse myself to go lay down on the couch. I ease down and curl my legs in. The pain is getting worse. I should just go home, but something holds me back. I know I am waiting for someone who isn't going to come; for something that is never going to happen, but I am just that stupid.

Someone enters the room.

"Nymphadora."

Who would call me that when I clearly do not like it, why no other than Severus Snape.

I don't move. I don't think I can unless I put in some effort. My face is in the cushions… if only I had a blanket around me.

"I am willing to make a trade with you."

I grumble, "don't bother, I have nothing to offer up."

"Oh, but you do," he drawls.

Loud movement catches both our attentions.

"I know you are out of commission tonight as you will be in St. Mungos explaining away your gunshot wound. Tomorrow night, ten o'clock, call the location."

The first location that comes to mind comes out of my mouth, "Mike's Tavern, it's-"

"See you tomorrow night. Have a good night, Nymphadora." He drawls out my name on his way out.

Oh great, I've just made a deal with the devil. What have I got to lose?

I scrounge up the energy to rejoin those who are left, and lucky for me it's only Arthur, Molly, Kingsley and Alastor. I sit next to Alastor and his uneasiness. His eye goes crazy.

"Dear, would you care to eat?" Molly questions me and my appearance.

"Sure, thanks." My chest hurts so much. I'm going to have to go.

She nods vigorously and sets to work.

"Alastor, would you like to accompany me to St Mungos tonight? I don't need any more attention tonight." Just like the attention I am feeling right now.

"Aye," he agrees and it puts me at ease that he will be going with me. It will prove to me that he knows that it's me, and that he can trust me.

Molly puts a bowl in front of me. "So, do you have plans for Christmas? If not, you can join us. I'd be happy to have you over."

"Thanks, but no, I am not celebrating this year." I do not have anyone to spend Christmas with, is what I want to say, but I don't. I eat half of the food in front of me. That's all I can manage.

I am not staying overnight. They cannot force me. It's a simple wound, it just hurts a lot.