AN: Jayna's. This is the longest of the eight parts because here is where we finally make sense of Jayna's family. Please prepare tissues.
I realise that I'm updating quite fast and if anyone would like me to slow it down slightly please tell me :). Reviews are better than mints!

Chapter Thirty-One
Christmas; Part Six

Jayna didn't mind Professor Slughorn. Sure, he was a little overbearing and, because she was trying to be a little more empathetic, she understood the concept of it being irritating if you weren't one of his favourites but that was really as far as her annoyance stretched, seeing as she was loved by almost all the teachers (even if they didn't play such obvious favourites) and his favouritism guaranteed her an interview with whoever she wanted to speak to when she was considering job options. However, Jayna could not stand his parties.

She would have preferred to have been re-reading the letters that she'd received that morning. She knew most of them by heart by now though having nothing else to do that day, and she ran them over in her hand as she and Scorpius strolled down from the Slytherin Common-Room entrance to the dungeon that Slughorn was hosting his party in.

Jay-Jay,

I'm glad that you like the earrings because I love this book as well as that amazing pillow you got me. Now I can snog Will Herondale's face whenever I like *sighs*. I can't believe you wrote this! It's hilarious.

What are you wearing to the party? You can suck it up; free music, free food and free alcohol (if you're sneaky enough to get it) there is literally nothing else you could want.

Hiding magic from my Mum should be a full-time occupation with all my bloody family around. Your plan sounds like a good one (as they usually do)- we should start working on it when I get back.

OWL ME BACK,

Lydjah

PS. Aren't you impressed I haven't mentioned the news?

PPS. WHAT THE FUCK IS THE NEWS?

PPPS. Potter mentioned it too.

Blackwood,

Merry Christmas! Thanks for the sugar quills- how did you know they were my favourite? Please don't say your crazy best friend had a vision of me eating them with my girlfriend or something.

Ah yes, girlfriend- I'm telling James when we get back. Merlin's bloody flip-flops. (He wore flip-flops. Deal with it.)

I hope you like your present. I would like to state that I had absolutely no input into what James bought you though I really wish I could have seen your face.

Andrews

To Jayna,

Happy Christmas! Thank you for the chocolate; it's gorgeous; you have to let me know where you got it.

How is Christmas at Hogwarts? I think I'm going to spend next year there; you have to do it once I think.

Can you come up with any Christmas traditions we Purebloods do? Sorry if this is a bit of a random question, it's for a friend. I'm very proud of remembering to attach your present to this.

From,

Molly

Blackwood,

Thank you for the Blood Pops and the note. I'm glad you saw that James was lying about me liking them, and I'm even gladder to inform you that your plan worked and he is now unable to open his mouth on account of his tongue being three times thicker and bright purple. It may have just made my Christmas morning so thanks for that too. He has no idea it was the Blood Pop he stole, and even if he does he won't ask because that would involve owning up to stealing one.

I think I need more Ravenclaw friends.

I hope you like your present in return as much as I enjoyed yours.

Potter (the non-twat one)

Blackwood,

First of all; hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha oh my Merlin I am pissing myself please stop making me laugh so much.

Secondly; your handwriting is fucking terrible (please make it better otherwise I am going to fail my OWLs).

Thirdly; Christmas there was pretty amazing; we got into a huge snow/gravy fight. I guess that answers your second question too. I wouldn't hold out hope of Filch doing anything quickly sorry mate.

Fourthly (that's right I can count); oh my god no I'm laughing too much to answer. Right. Well I can safely say that I was not possessed because which possessed person would remember to install a camera which would snap a picture when they opened the present?

Fifthly; I've just realised I shouldn't have told you that because now you're probably going to delete the photo but I can't be bothered to re-write the letter so please just don't until I at least get to see it once. Please?

Sixthly; I should've got it to do two photos and got one of Skeeter too.

Seventhly; what does castrate mean? I assume it's unpleasant so I'll keep the present between me, you, Sam, Lydjah, Skeeter and therefore the entire school. ;)

Eighthly; I am glad you trounced Scorpius at chess but distraught at the idea of my damsel running off with another man.

Ninthly; I'm a bit worried that that last point is going to leave me with no limbs or something because that seems like something you'd do.

Tenthly; YOU ASKED ME TO RESCUE YOU YES I AM OFF THE HOOK FROM THE DAMSEL THING.

Eleventhly (it's a goddam word anti-bad-spelling quill); don't die how else am I going to pass my OWLs you idiot you've got to think of other people here.

Twelthly (again, it's a word); actually I give you full permission to drink that potion if it's either that or listen to Celestina Warbeck. Did I mention how glad I am that I'm not you right now?

Thirteenthly (IT'S A WORD);HOW IS IT MY FAULT?

Fourteenthly (IT'S A FUCKING WORD); I am rather disturbed at the image of your saintly self haunting me.

FINALLY; Merry Christmas to you too mate.

See you in January,

Potter

Despite her friends' letters cheering her up her good mood quickly vanished when she entered the party. Celestina Warbeck was already playing when they arrived, which they both made a face at, but they were relieved to learn that she'd only be singing for part of the night and after that they'd just put on a random soundtrack. Professor Slughorn was making the rounds so they decided it would probably be best to say hello to him first and then he wouldn't interrupt their conversation later. The only other people who came to speak to her and Scorpius were Purebloods like them or people expressing their apologies over her family's deaths (which were usually one and the same anyway). So, instead of socialising, Jayna and Scorpius had agreed to give their presents to each other at the party for something to do. Jayna also snagged Scorpius some Butterbeer as they sat in one of the more secluded, but thankfully not occupied by snogging couples, areas.

"Merry Christmas." Scorpius scowled. He hadn't forgiven her for beating him in ten moves at chess earlier. Jayna honestly wasn't good at chess; Scorpius was just appalling. She passed over his present and his irritation faded as he opened it. It was a watercolour set with every colour Scorpius could ever ask for.

There were very few people who knew of Scorpius' amazing artistic abilities. Not even Albus knew, or his parents. He knew they wouldn't encourage it; just like his obsession with motorbikes, and had often told them he was studying for his French when really he was sketching. There was a cherry tree in their garden, hidden away in the middle of the orchard that Scorpius was almost sure his parents had forgotten they owned, and when Scorpius had grown too big to climb it he had begun drawing under it instead. Jayna was one of the only people who knew and it was only because she'd followed him when he sneaked out of the social at his house and had seen him drawing. In return for telling her his secret, she'd mailed him the pages of the first proper book she'd written and his encouragement had set her writing whenever she had free time. She'd begged for a few of his sketches but the most he would send her was doodles.

He grinned happily at her. "Thank you." He didn't hug her; he wasn't a hugging person, but he did offer her one of his very few genuine smiles where both corners of his mouth turned up. He handed her his present. She started to open it but he stopped her.

"Wait, just… I'm sorry if this upsets you." Jayna frowned quizzically at him and gently opened the package (she never ripped presents unless she couldn't get them open) and pulled it out.

She stared down at the most lifelike scene she had ever seen painted, complete with colour on proper framed canvas. The ballroom in her home-that-used-to-exist looked up at her, covered in the most extravagant decorations just as she remembered it, this time last year at the Social they had hosted. The whole room was white; white walls and a shining, slippery white marble floor. Their floor-to-ceiling Christmas tree was covered in twinkling fairy lights in millions of different colours. Tables drew a space in the middle where on the left a band was playing live music. The tables themselves were covered in white sparkling table cloths that the house-elves had washed by hand, and were completed with a vase of pearl roses that were known for having no scent (her mother was allergic).

Jayna had thought before the guests had arrived that the whole room looked rather dead, excluding the Christmas tree of course, but as soon as the first couple had strolled down the glass spiral staircase (one of the only things that had survived the fire) she'd realised her mother had designed it perfectly. It was the people who brought it to life, the people twirling and laughing and sipping drinks with their friends. Sure, it was done in the most polite and sophisticated way possible; all the dances were structured and mostly slow and the conversation was dull and heavy with politics but it worked beautifully.

Then, in-between the detailed but generic and unrecognisable (just as she wanted it) faces of the other spinning couples, Jayna saw the main focus of the painting. She studied herself first, her beautiful strapless blue dress that her mother had finally allowed her to wear, as it floated down to her knees and left her freckled shoulders on display, and the gold wedges that had made her feel as tall as her father. The way her hair had gold stripes where the light fell and the way it whirled around her head when she slowly span. Her mouth, curled into the hugest smile that she was uncertain she could still do. Her eyes, for once visible as they shone greener than the Christmas tree she was in front of, and looked down at the young boy who was holding her hands.

She blinked at him, and it hit her like a ton of bricks that she wouldn't have been able to remember him this vividly without a photograph. He stood at little higher than her knees, his arms stretching up to hold onto hers, his hands only just big enough to hold hers properly. He was stood on her feet as she spun them round, his polished black shoes that already had splatters of mud on them from who-knows-where but it was Devin and mud and him seemed to be permanently attracted to each other. His black jacket had been abandoned long ago but he was still wearing his white shirt even though it was rolled up to his pudgy elbows. His black trousers were a little too big for him which is why Jayna had offered her feet for him to stand on, worried he would trip otherwise.

His eyes were still blue; she'd never know if they would've darkened when he got older, and his hair was still lighter than hers, though darker than his oldest sister's or his brother's. He was a mini copy of her, both of them interchangeable for the other in baby photographs. His nose was wrinkled in the exact same way and his mouth was open in the middle of one of his infectious giggles that Jayna always used to hunt down when she was upset. His smile pushed his chubby cheeks closer towards his tiny ears that his small brown curls curved round. Jayna stroked his painted cheek, wanting nothing more than to be able to pull him close to her, just for a moment.

She finally looked up at Scorpius who was staring at her apprehensively.

"Scorpius." She stopped because her thought process hadn't formed any more than that. "Scorpius. This is the most amazing painting I have ever seen and this is the most beautiful gift anyone has ever given me. Thank you." She smiled and continued to speak in the exact same tone. "I am now going to get piss drunk."

Jayna slipped the painting back into the packaging and put it in the bag that she'd brought Scorpius' present in. She stood up, a little unsteadily, and grabbed a drink from the first waiter who passed her.

"Are you 17-" He was cut off as she drained the entire bottle in one go and then coughed violently. "Miss that wasn't Butterbeer-"

"I know. Can I have another?" He looked unsure and she snarled at him. "My name is Jayna Ivonne Blackwood and so help me if you don't give me another drink right now-" Scorpius had finally got over his shock and grabbed hold of her arm.

"Jayna I'm sorry for giving you the painting-" She looked at him blankly.

"Why are you sorry? That's the best thing you could've given me."

"Why are you suddenly deciding to get drunk despite despising alcohol for your entire life then?"

"Because it fucking hurts Scorpius. It fucking hurts that I'm here when I should be at one of those Merlin-awful socials complaining that Aleron's going to be taller than me when he grows up and Devin's stabbed his new wand into my eye, again. It fucking hurts that my sister won't even look at me," She pointed to Cara who was stood at the side of the dance-floor talking to Mr Belby. "And I've been informed that despite its disgusting taste alcohol makes you feel numb just for a few hours-"

"Yeah, before you wake up with a pounding headache and the urge to puke. Don't do that to yourself Jayna." She blinked at him and then started to laugh as tears fell down her cheeks and sobs heaved from her chest. Scorpius passed his drink to the waiter who stumbled off and pulled Jayna to him. She sobbed onto his shoulder, despite him being five inches shorter than her (she'd been awarded an extra inch by her heels), her legs not doing the best job of keeping her up and the alcohol she'd just consumed rushing to her head.

He sat her back down on the chair she'd just vacated and scooted his own closer. He held her hand as she reeled in her shuddering laughs. Several times other people tried to see if she was alright (Jayna did not cry quietly) but Scorpius shooed them away. When she was done crying and just sat trembling he brandished his wand at her face and removed the tear tracks. Luckily she didn't have any mascara runs seeing as she didn't often wear make-up. She thanked him and he nodded. "Sorry for breaking down on you." He shrugged.

"Trust you to not cry for months and then break down in a room full of celebrities." She giggled. Then her face lit up as the next song came on.

"Is that-"

"The Bent-Winged Snitches! Come on, come on!" She grabbed his arm and dragged him towards the dance-floor, thankful that he was skinnier than a stick as well as being shorter than her. He finally gave up and allowed her to drag him around the dance-floor which she refused to leave until the end of the night.