The Three Broomsticks was deserted, an almost unheard of occurrence in the second week of December. Normally, it would have been packed with people taking a break from their Christmas shopping, excitedly reviewing their purchases and exchanging cards and party invitations. These weren't normal times, however. The few customers sat in huddled groups around their tables and talked in hushed tones, frequently glancing nervously around the room. The street outside remained fairly busy, but an air of nervousness pervaded the cold air. People hurried past with heads down and cloaks pulled tightly around them. No-one stopped to chat with friends and acquaintances or to look at the lavish displays in the shop windows.

A lone woman sat by the window of the empty pub, watching the street emotionlessly. She wore an expensive cloak, dark green with an intricately wrought silver clasp, with the hood pulled up so that her face was hidden. A small glass of spiced wine sat in front of her, giving off a richly festive scent, but the woman made no move to drink it. Instead, her long fingernails fidgeted constantly- glancing around the room to check for anyone who might recognise her, adjusting her hood to ensure that her entire face was covered and fiddling with the clasp on her obviously expensive clutch bag.

The door to the pub opened, with a blast of icy wind, and another woman walked in. She, too, had the hood of her black cloak pulled up to cover her face. She shook the snow from her clothes and headed towards the bar, shivering. The woman in green barely spared her a glance before turning back to the window.

"Cissy?" The new arrival slid into the seat opposite the woman in green, placing a steaming mug of hot chocolate on the table. Close up, her clothes were old and shabby- the black of the cloak faded and the cuffs were beginning to fray.

"Meda," the woman in green- Cissy- acknowledged.

The other woman wrapped her hands around her mug, and took a quick sip of the hot, sweet liquid. "It's freezing, isn't it?"

"Frigid," Cissy said shortly. "But then, it is December."

"Yes." Meda's eyes briefly shone beneath her hood. "My favourite month."

"I remember." And Cissy did remember, for a moment: Meda's excitement as they hung their stockings above the fireplace, her laughter as she bombarded her sisters with snowballs, her wide smile as she opened a present which Cissy had bought her... But it changed nothing. Cissy's voice hardened. "But you didn't ask me here to talk about the weather, did you? Why did you want to see me?"

Meda seemed surprised by the coldness in Cissy's manner. She quickly began to search through her bag. "I wanted to give you a Christmas present."

"The real reason, Meda."

"Well- we're sisters, and I haven't seen you in a long time. I- I wanted to know if you were happy." Meda found what she was looking for and slid it across the table quickly.

"Of course I'm happy. Aren't you?" Cissy asked icily. She pulled the parcel closer to herself and viewed it contemptuously, no doubt finding the bright pattern of cantering reindeer on a red background to be too common for her taste. "Thank you. As it happens, I brought you a present too." She opened her clutch bag briefly and passed Meda a smaller package, wrapped in silver paper on which a constantly shifting pattern of white snowflakes glimmered.

"Thanks," Meda said, sounding genuinely delighted.

"Whether we're sisters, however, is open to debate."

There was a sharp intake of breath from under Meda's hood. "Surely we're sisters, Cissy?" she asked, somewhat pleadingly. Her sister said nothing. "And these rumours about Lucius?"

"Malicious lies, of course," Cissy said sharply. "Although I would prefer that you didn't insult my husband, considering what you chose to marry."

"Ted isn't- Cissy, if you gave him a chance-"

"Meda, if you brought me here to try and justify what you did, then I have better things to do. In fact, I need to leave shortly anyway." Cissy glanced at the delicate silver watch on her left wrist briefly. "Lucius and I are attending a benefit party for a new wing of St Mungo's."

"Right," Meda said. She wanted to speak more of Ted, but didn't quite dare. For a few minutes, neither said anything.

Finally, Cissy broke the silence. "I hear that you and your- husband" –she spoke the word husband with huge disdain- "have a child now?"

Meda sounded relieved at the change of subject. "Yes. Nymphadora: she's four years old now. And you?"

Cissy hesitated briefly before replying. "No children yet, although…" She hesitated before continuing. "I haven't told anyone, but- I'm pregnant."

"That's wonderful! Congratulations!" And despite her misgivings about the Malfoys, Meda really was pleased for her sister.

"Yes… It means a lot." The two sisters had once shared everything: Cissy suddenly realised, painfully, how little they now knew of each other's lives. "Lucius and I have been trying for a baby since our wedding night, you know... He wants an heir, you understand, and I just want a child… But it hasn't been going so well. I was ready to give up, after four miscarriages- but I knew Lucius wouldn't hear of it."

"Oh, Cissy, I'm so sorry." Meda hesitated, then got up and walked around the table to hug her sister tenderly. "I wish I'd been there for you. I should have been there for you."

"Yeah, well." Cissy's tone was suddenly brittle. "You chose the mudblood instead."

"I didn't-"

"Yes, you did. You can talk about love and the freedom to live your own life all that you like- you chose a man over your family."

Meda's mouth opened and closed silently, searching for words which she couldn't find. She wasn't even sure what she wanted to give: an apology, an explanation, a criticism of Cissy's own life? Finally, she just snapped, "Don't use that word!"

"What word? Mudblood? But it's what he is, Meda," Cissy said. She stood, her glass of spice wine still untouched on the table. "I need to be going. It can't become known that I met you."

"Cissy, wait!" Meda said.

Cissy hesitated, but just barely. "I don't know why I came."

"We're sisters, Cissy!"
"Not any longer." And with that, Cissy swept away. Icy wind gusted in as she opened the door. She pushed her way through the snow grimly, head down. Her face was still hidden underneath her hood, but a single tear trickled unseen down her cheek.

Behind her, Meda took a slow sip out of her hot chocolate. Her eyes, too, filled with hidden tears. Once, she and Cissy had promised that they'd always be there for each other, no matter what. Young and innocent, neither had been able to imagine otherwise. Meda wished, more than anything, that she could return to something of that innocence. She wished she had been there to support Cissy when she'd miscarried and that she could have the chance to support her through her pregnancy; to hold her young niece or nephew and watch him or her grow up… There was one thing which hadn't changed, though. One thing which would never change: Meda would always care. Whatever Cissy said, Meda would always be her sister.

Her drink was cold now. She stood and left, following Cissy into the snowy street.

A/N: Please review! It's a little early for a Christmas fic, I know, but I think this is a bit depressing to really be called festive.

Disclaimer: The characters and world are all property of the wonderful JK Rowling, not me(unfortunately).