AN: So I just couldn't get this out of my head. Please enjoy and review. I don't own either Andromeda Black, Ted Tonks or Hark The Herald Angels Sing. Merry Christmas everyone!
Christmas Past and Christmas Present
It's Christmas again. It's Christmas, but it doesn't feel like it. There's no hustle, bustle, no – no anything really. Gone are the days of trailing round from Pureblood manor to Pureblood manor for one party after another, smiling, dancing, and laughing. Gone are the days of mistletoe and twelve foot high Christmas trees, of trestle tables groaning under mountains of sumptuous food, of heaps of presents as high as my waist.
Even my family is gone. It's not the Black Sisters celebrating this year, not Bella, Meda and Cissy. It's just Ted and I this year; and even he's gone, because he's stuck, unable to get home from visiting his little sister, thanks to the snow that holds the Muggle world fast in its icy grip.
He promised to be home by now, but he isn't. He's broken his first ever promise. And, as I wait for him, the sad little stump of a tree that I bought only two days ago wilting by the fireplace, I can only help but think "How many more promises will he break?"
Shoving the drab lumpy cushions that litter our sofa aside impatiently, I sink into its ancient, uncomfortable depths. I close my eyes, intending to think of Ted, remember exactly why I ran away with him, but I don't.
A Christmas long past flashes before my eyes unbidden.
"Meda! Meda!" Opening my eyes at the excited voice, I was just in time to see Cissy dash into my room and land on me, tugging at me frantically.
"Hmm… Good morning." I groaned, before remembering just exactly what morning it was. Christmas morning!
Jumping out of bed so fast I nearly tipped Cissy to the floor, I raced to the door. "Let's go and wake Bella!"
Stifling a giggle as best she could – she was only six, after all, Cissy followed. Tiptoeing quickly down the hall to Bella's room, we paused for breath and then I met Cissy's eye and murmured "1-2-3!"
"Merry Christmas!" Shrieking breathlessly with delight, we pounced on Bella in perfect unison.
"Meda! Cissy! What the…" Bella rolled over, her voice dark with menace. I recoiled at the sound of it, but Cissy, innocently excited, repeated "Merry Christmas, Bella!"
And that was all it took. Bella's eyes, stormy with anger at being woken so rudely only moments before, lightened and started sparkling. "Christmas! Merry Christmas, Meda! Cissy!"
She caught us in a close brief hug and then pulled away, wild with anticipation. "Who's ready for presents?"
"Me! Me!" Cissy shrieked, bouncing up and down eagerly. Bella's eyes softened at the sight of her and then lit up with mischief.
"All right then, but shh. We have to be very quiet. After all, we don't want to wake up Mama and Papa, do we?"
"Why not? It's Christmas! Don't they want to get up and see their presents too?"
"No, Cissy. They're grown up, and Father Christmas doesn't come when you're a grown up. Grown ups don't celebrate Christmas like we do. But that's okay. We don't need them. We're the Black Sisters, aren't we?"
"Yes!" Cissy squealed, grabbing Bella's hand as our older sister held it out to her. Bella led her to the door, turning to look back at me challengingly. "Are you coming, Meda? Or are you too much of a goody two shoes to do anything forbidden?"
At that, I sprang up immediately.
We ran down the staircase, stifling our giggles until we reached the living room, where a pile of presents awaited each of us.
A shiver of excitement ran through me at the sight, so that I could barely wait for Bella's countdown to be over before I could dive into my gifts, tearing the bright paper impatiently.
I was just opening yet another gift – a beautiful book on all the stars in the night sky, many of which members of our family were named after, when the house elves found us.
"Miss Bellatrix! Miss Andromeda! Miss Narcissa! You must not be doing that! Mistress Druella said you were not to!"
I glanced at Bella worriedly. If the House elves told our parents before we got a chance to get in our story, then we'd be in so much trouble…
I hadn't counted on Bella's arrogance, though. Straightening her shoulders, she glared up at Beetler and Meena.
"Our Mother is not present, but I am. I am the eldest daughter of the House of Black, and I forbid you to tell my parents of what you see now. They will find out for themselves. Do you hear me? I forbid you. If you do, I'll make you sorry you ever crawled into that sorry existence you call a life. Understand?"
"Yes, Miss Bellatrix." Our house elves squeaked. Bella smiled – a sardonic half smile that I had never seen her give before.
"Good. Then get out of my sight."
Without giving our elves another thought, she turned to Cissy. "Open this one, Cissy. Go on. I chose it. I want to know what you think of it."
Cissy did as she was told. Meanwhile I glanced at Bella. "You think you're so full of yourself, don't you, Bellatrix Black?"
"What do you mean? I'm a Black."
"Yes, but, just now "I'll make you sorry you ever crawled into that sorry existence you call a life."" I mimicked. "You sounded like Mother."
"I did not!"
"You did so!"
"Andromeda Black, you take that back!"
"Make me!"
I should never have said that. Bella needed no second urging. She threw herself at me, knocking me back into the Christmas tree so that it wobbled dangerously, the candles flickering as it shook. We rolled over and over in the midst of unopened presents and discarded wrapping paper, tickling fiercely, each trying to gain the upper hand. We were so absorbed that we didn't even hear Papa come in, not until he cleared his throat and said "Well, well, well. What's going on here then?"
The ring of the doorbell jolts me out of my reverie. Within seconds I am out of the sofa and down the hall to the door. I fling it open. Ted is standing there, his face sporting a regretful half-smile. He is holding a giant box of Quality Street chocolates and a huge wreath of Christmas Roses.
"Droma. I'm sorry I'm so late. The snow was hell to drive through." He extends the gifts by way of a peace offering. My arms go round him, wrapping him in a bone-crushing bear hug, holding him to me as tightly as I can.
"It doesn't matter. You're here now. Don't leave me again. Don't leave me!"
"I won't. I won't." Ted murmurs into my ear and then he suddenly has a brainwave. "Hang on. Hold on to me."
"Why? Where are we going?"
"You'll see."
A second later, Ted turns on the spot, Apparating us both away to wherever it is he's thinking of.
We land in a side street in a quaint little village, buried deep in the heart of the countryside.
"Where are we?"
"Hatfield. It's near where I grew up. But shh. This is what I wanted you to hear."
As Ted falls silent, I hear voices, children's voices. They are singing, but it is not a song I have ever heard before.
"Hark the herald angels sing
"Glory to the newborn King!
Peace on earth and mercy mild
God and sinners reconciled"
Joyful, all ye nations rise
Join the triumph of the skies
With the angelic host proclaim:
"Christ is born in Bethlehem"
Hark! The herald angels sing
"Glory to the newborn King!"
Christ by highest heav'n adored
Christ the everlasting Lord!
Late in time behold Him come
Offspring of a Virgin's womb
Veiled in flesh the Godhead see
Hail the incarnate Deity
Pleased as man with man to dwell
Jesus, our Emmanuel
Hark! The herald angels sing
"Glory to the newborn King!"
"What are they singing?" I ask Ted, curious.
"Hark The Herald Angels Sing. It's a very common Christmas song where I come from, in the Muggle world, I mean. It's my favourite. I used to do what they're doing. Carolling, it's called. You go from door to door and sing, in exchange for a hot drink, or biscuits, or even just to spread some joy. I wanted you to hear them. I thought it might cheer you up."
I smile at him, touched by his obvious love for me. I lean against him, burrowing into the warmth of his arms and the protection they offer against the bitter cold of the winter day. And, as the Carollers start to move away from us, their high clear voices drifting back to us on the wind, I feel like singing along. Ted's right, they did cheer me up. Maybe there's joy in two kinds of Christmases after all.
Hail the heav'n-born Prince of Peace!
Hail the Son of Righteousness!
Light and life to all He brings
Ris'n with healing in His wings
Mild He lays His glory by
Born that man no more may die
Born to raise the sons of earth
Born to give them second birth
Hark! The herald angels sing
"Glory to the newborn King!"