A/N to my lovely readers:

I am so, so sorry. This is one of those times that words aren't as magical as we make them out to be because I can't express how sorry I am for not posting for such a stupidly long time! Let's just say I've had a lot of plot twists in my own life, and I haven't been having the best few months. But I'm back up again, and I'm so grateful for all the supportive fanfiction-inhalers out there. So, after 5 long months, I'm proud to say... enjoy! (And review/follow/fav!)

Love,

NS

p.s. To clear up any confusion in advance: a large part of this chapter, which is in italics, is a flashback to New Year's Eve.

-Roxanne-

"Oi, Eli." I swing my bookbag to the ground and slump on the sofa next to him. "How's your first day back been?" He doesn't look up from his book.

"Fine. You?"

"A tad worse, I'd reckon."

"Yeah," he says quietly. I snap my head to look at him. He still won't meet my eyes. "I heard what went down between you and your cousin."

I groan. "Al told you, didn't he?" Eli nods quickly. "Whatever he said, he's wrong."

"Sure," he says, rolling his eyes. Usually I appreciate the way Eli thinks out everything he says, the timidness so rare in a Gryffindor, but now the silence is unbearable.

"You don't understand. She's— she's been seduced by Lulu!" I burst out. He raises an eyebrow. "Not like that. But it's almost worse. Either way, she completely provoked me."

Eli doesn't say anything just as I expected. He slides a finger back between the pages of the book.

"There's no one else left on my side, Eli."

"Maybe you should start wondering if there's a reason," he says, and suddenly stands up, walking out of the common room with the last word.

"Mack!" There she was, flushed cheeks and wide smile and all. She kicked off her boots and blew on her hands to warm them. This was the longest time I hadn't seen her for since the summer. Yet still I can't hug her. Maybe it was because I was worried it won't be enough, worried one touch would lead to another and she'd realize and step back and nononodon'tthinkaboutit.

Around her is the only time I don't trust myself.

"What's up?" she said in greeting.
The parents drifted into the kitchen for a firewhisky, except for Mrs Finnigan, whom Grandpa was eagerly beckoning toward his study full of Muggle junk, just as Al barreled down the staircase and swung around the end of the banister. "Hey, Mack," he said, adopting a bulletproof grin. His eyes twitched in my direction before they returned to our friend. I clenched my teeth and I don't know whether I meant for him to see or not. "How was your Christmas?"
For one afternoon we pretended everything is fine. We played Exploding Snap. We snacked on biscuits. We laughed at Teddy's rather vulgar joke that gained disapproving glares from the parents, and laughed even harder when butterbeer came out of Hugo's nose as a result. Despite the way my stomach jumped and I couldn't catch enough oxygen in a normal breath, somehow I found myself unable to leave Mack's side. I glanced at my cousins, one of the first times I truly directed my attention to them that evening. James lifted his eyebrows an infinitesimal amount. I knew what he was communicating. Don't think this means we're back to normal. But I didn't need him to tell me; this game requires full participation: It's all for Mack. This illusion is all for Mack.
I didn't deserve this, and they knew it. I wondered who would be the first to crack, the one who couldn't ignore for another minute the monster their cousin had become.
At one point during dinner, the world outside grew dark and snowflakes, pushed into whirls by the wind, tapped at the window. The evening festivities included an enormous Gobstones tournament and constant refills of butterbeer. After winning his fourth game in a row, Al jumped up. "You know what? I'm gonna make some tea. Does anyone else want some while I'm at it?"
Mack was considering. "Okay. But I can get my own." They wandered off and James and I were left in the biting silence. We sat on opposite sides of the couch, with plenty of things we wanted to say but none of them necessary.

The night crawled along. The younger children yawned as they counted the swings of the clock's pendulum, and James, Al, Mack and I were curled up on the couch, out of games to play and reduced to philosophical exhausted rambles. Teddy and Victoire's announcement along with the adrenaline of the hour hand nearing midnight gave us a brief spell of energy, and just like every other year, we bounced in our seats as everyone in the room counted down in unison…. "HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

We could hear the chaos of clanging pots in the empty kitchen. "You're welcome," Teddy said, and smirked, twirling his wand between his fingers. The adults tolerated a few minutes of celebration before starting to shepherd the younger ones toward the door, far past their bedtime. The party was over.

As the guests inched toward the door, the rest of us begin to reluctantly trudge up the stairs. "Well, see ya," I said, nodding at Mack. She smiled, but it wavered. I turned around and head toward the stairwell, but as soon as I was out of the main room a hand grabbed my forearm.

"Roxy," she said.

I froze.

"Could we… talk?" I nodded, and slipped into a small room by the stairs that isn't used for much other than storage. Stacks of cardboard boxes always line the walls, a few glowing, a few emitting soft rustling sounds, and there was only a tiny square of floor left for us to stand, face to face. I had no idea where this was going. She bit her lip, as if unsure of what she was about to say, until she told me, "Al told me what happened. Between you and Lily, I mean. When we were getting tea."

My jaw clenched of its own accord. "And I suppose you dragged me in here for yet another lecture." She didn't say anything. "Well? What do you want from me?" I prompted.

"So it's true," she said. "I thought this was done; I was sure he was exaggerating-"

"What do you want from me, Mack?" I repeated.

She stared at me. I realized this was the first time she had ever seen me like this: the monster I can feel speaking through my lips but who somehow seduces me and steals my will to control it. Weak. She can't see me like this; why does she have to see me like this?

"Mackenzie!" her mother called from the front hall, voice tinged with annoyance.

She sighed. "I don't really know," she finally answered to me, and left, leaving me in a fortress of abandoned artifacts.