James did send the apology note to Remus, along with an official invitation to the Order's Christmas party, which Lily, Marlene, and Dumbledore had masterminded in order to boost morale.

We all need something to celebrate, Lily had huffed, stringing popcorn into a thread at the kitchen table.

After a few days of diligent handicrafting, the Potter mansion had been transformed into a cozy Christmas hideaway complete with roasting chestnuts, popcorn and cranberry garlands, and twinkling fairy lights suspended in each of the five Christmas trees that adorned the entryway, parlor, and dining room. A large fire roared in the parlor and Marlene had knitted twenty stockings of various sizes and designs—all stitched with the name of an Order member—that hung over the blaze.

For once the wireless was not tuned into the frequency used for gathering tips. Now, cheerful carols issued from its speakers.

The dining room was glittering with magical snowflakes that tasted like chocolate and peppermint and hot mulled wine when you caught them on your tongue. Lily had even persuaded James to let her get out the Potters' prized bone china; the set was laid elegantly on the dining room table, each plate centered on a lace doily.

The plates themselves overflowed with candies and hors d'oeuvres: deviled eggs, a whole sliced ham garnished with pineapple and cherries, a burbling pot of cheese fondue, and a self-refilling bowl of rum punch.

Lily had laid out a muggle game called Twister at the far end of the parlor, which Benjy Fenwick and Sturgis Podmore were literally entwined in; Emmeline Vance manned the spinner nearby. Marlene and Gideon were happily ensconced beneath the mistletoe, resurfacing only for a nibble of food and another glass of punch; their freckled cheeks were stained blotchy pink.

Peter was chatting with Caradoc Dearborn, who was nursing a brandy and whipping a giggling Elphias Doge at chess.

"Sorry, Mr. Doge. I'm afraid I've had a lot of practice with Mr. Crouch's Undersecretary, and she's devilishly good."

Doge chuckled good-naturedly and straightened his fez, which was adorned with a tartan bow. "S'all right. I'm a Gobstones man, myself."

The jingle bells James had looped on the door handle rang out; Dumbledore had arrived with a familiar face in tow.

Rubeus Hagrid, Hogwarts' Gamekeeper, was attempting to make himself seem very small and unobtrusive in the corridor, but was not succeeding. Doge thanked Caradoc for the game and rose to greet them. After they shook hands and said their hellos, their party retired to the dining room.

A smaller, grubby figure was revealed when Hagrid moved out of the way. He had a long beard much like Dumbledore's, but it was dirty-grey and not as well-kept. He looked distinctly out of place, but not uncomfortable; he seemed perfectly satisfied to observe the festivities from his spot near the door.

Caradoc nudged Peter and nodded at the man. "Aberforth Dumbledore emerged from his self-imposed exile, eh?"

Peter had heard all about the Dumbledores' dirty history, but he had not imagined that Albus Dumbledore's brother would look so squalid; his robes were grimy and plain, especially compared to Dumbledore's red-and-gold finery. Aberforth's eyes were small and suspicious and lacked the sparkle that the Headmaster's occasionally boasted.

"Why d'you think Dumbledore brought him?"

"Christmas is a time for family," Peter mused, then kicked himself for forgetting to buy his mother a Christmas gift. Still got tomorrow.

"Everyone knows they hate each other, though."

"I can't imagine Dumbledore hears 'no' very often, even from family."

Aberforth turned his head and met Peter's curious gaze head-on. The eyes were hooded and topped with thick, unruly eyebrows, but they pierced like thorns. Now Peter spotted the family resemblance.

He jerked away quickly, scanning the rest of the room. Thankfully, Sirius and James were coming his way, sporting twin grins of glee.

James nodded a greeting at Caradoc and plopped down onto the arm of Peter's chair. "Can you believe Dumbledore brought the gamekeeper?"

"I guess he doesn't have anywhere else to go. Orphan, isn't he?" Sirius wondered, settling on Peter's other side.

"That's what I've heard," said Caradoc. "Plus the usual stories…poor chap."

The four of them stared at the massive man whose wiry hair just brushed the high ceilings of the Potter mansion. Someone had filled a polished silver ice bucket with whiskey and placed it in the man's enormous hands.

The rumors about the wild-looking gamekeeper were nearly as rampant as those about the headmaster, and twice as cruel. Nasty stories about expulsion and imprisonment. Unnatural couplings between human and giant that ended in murder. They said Hagrid had not been able to control the rage that boiled in his giant blood.

The bells jingled again and Remus entered, toting a cloth bag of ice and a large bay wreath. Lily, wearing a fresh poinsettia in her hair, met him at the door and took the ice, then directed him to a large hook in the corridor, where he hung the greenery. Fabian, who was passing with a tray, stopped and shoved a drink into Remus' hand, chattering merrily and looking rather pink around the ears.

"Oi!" Sirius called, waving an arm. Remus turned and smiled, giving a little wave. He shook Fabian's hand and excused himself.

Remus crossed the parlor and sat gingerly on the edge of the chess table. In a brief, silent exchange with James and Sirius, the earlier fight was deemed forgotten; without preamble, Remus began, "Fabian says his sister is pregnant—about five months along. With twins."

They all winced theatrically, envisioning the almost unthinkable scene of domestic stress which—in their perception—meant they had been officially neutered and never allowed to enjoy their youth again.

"Blimey." Peter shook his head. "It's hard enough with one."

"Oh, she has three more at home," said Sirius. "Her husband is a distant cousin of mine; my parents used to take every opportunity to compare them to dogs in heat. My parents' rather selective memories allowed them to overlook that they also had two children at the time."

"Well, he seemed proud," Caradoc considered. "After all, as an uncle he can hand them back whenever he likes. Besides, it's only a matter of time for you, James!"

They laughed and James wrinkled his nose, dodging playful pats on the back. "Not yet. Besides, we're in a war. Hardly the best time to make babies."

"Tell that to Molly Weasley," Sirius shrugged, glancing around. "Er, have you all seen Lark anywhere? I—ahem—couldn't help but notice she wasn't with Fabian."

The others smirked, and Caradoc glanced over his shoulder. "I think I saw her in the kitchen earlier, doing tarot readings. You know, Christmas wishes and New Year's hopes and all that."

"Thanks mate," Sirius exhaled, standing. When the others failed to rise with him, he paused. "Aren't you coming?"

James and Sirius snickered and stood up, glancing at Peter, who had remained seated. He didn't want to ditch Caradoc so quickly.

"I'll be along," said Peter. They nodded and left, prodding Sirius in the back and grinning.

Caradoc drained his brandy and ran his eyes over the chess board. "Seems like he's pretty serious about this one."

"More than usual," Peter agreed. "I think she was the first girl to leave him."

"Ah, that'll do it."

"Are you still seeing Sandra…something? She was your girlfriend at school, wasn't she?"

Caradoc smiled and lifted his open hands, looking wistful. "Nah. She dumped me, I'm afraid. Apparently she doesn't like the idea of my working in law enforcement right now."

"Oh. I see." He didn't really, but Peter was not exactly an expert on relationships. Or government, for that matter. "Er, I'm going to get a drink."

Caradoc nodded knowingly. "Go on. I should find another challenger; hopefully a worthier adversary than Mr. Doge." He rubbed his hands together and smiled. "Let's you and I have a round later."

"Of course." Peter returned the smile and walked to the corridor. He grabbed a glass off the first tray that floated past him and headed for the kitchen.

Peter pushed open the swinging door; the room was dim and smotheringly warm from the constant feeding of the oven and furnace. James, Sirius, and Remus were lined up along the far side of the table; Dorcas had her back to him and was shuffling the deck of tarot cards deftly. They looked up at Peter as he entered.

"Come on," Remus beckoned, patting the seat next to him.

James smirked. "Dorcas is going to tell us all about our bright futures."

"Don't you make fun!" She scolded, but her eyes were shining. "I was N.E.W.T.-level. Dumbledore even hinted that Professor Ogham was set to retire from the Divination post next year. I could make a job of it!"

"That's great news!" said Sirius, looking genuinely surprised. "Imagine you, a professor."

"Molding young minds," James added, wiggling his fingers in demonstration.

Dorcas, aglow with pleasure, cut the deck. "Just for your teasing, James, this reading is going to be about you and Lily—this first card represents you and James." She laid it down and laughed. "The Lovers! Naturally."

Peter had not taken Divination; the images were unfamiliar, although the names seemed deceptively simple. The Lovers card depicted a man and a woman, their hands joined. The man was looking longingly at the woman, but her gaze was fixed on a hill behind her, where another man waited.

James put up a hand. "What does that mean, exactly?"

"Well, it usually means it's a time of making decisions—typically in situations involving Love. Perhaps those china patterns?" Dorcas winked and placed a second card across the first. Her eyebrows drew down. "Hm."

James and Lily exchanged a look.

"Three of Swords. That's…not a very good card," Dorcas admitted. "It's conflict. Strife, separation."

"But I suppose we've all experienced that lately," said Remus mildly.

James nodded, looking rather relieved. "We're in the midst of a pretty contentious situation, after all."

Sirius nudged him. "Ooh, big word."

"Shut up."

Dorcas turned another card over. "And you've got the Seven of Swords. There's been something dishonest or secretive you've had to do to achieve your goal, even if it's unpleasant."

Sirius tutted. "Spying on the Minister is hardly unpleasant, though. All you do is sneak company coffee, take notes, and sneak looks down his secretary's bl—AUGH." Sirius coughed loudly, rubbing his chest where James had elbowed it.

"Moving right along," Dorcas trilled. "The Tower. This is something that's coming into your life that you should embrace. Freeing oneself of a constructed identity or situation, sort of like shedding a skin."

That met with blank stares, so she went on.

"Ooh, Three of Cups! It's all about marriage and births and beginnings of all kinds, so quite natural for your reading, especially in the Goals position."

Lily nodded, considering this.

"As for the foundations of your situation, it's the…Eight of Swords. Oh."

"Oh?" James frowned.

"Not to worry! I'm sure this has nothing to do with the wedding at all. Your Crossing Card was about the war—remember? Strife, separation? This one means that you've realized how deep and serious this situation goes, and you're afraid to act further, because the consequences could be awful either way. A dilemma, basically. But a decision must be made."

Peter felt a thrum of self-righteous smugness. What had he told them at the start? War—especially in the case of young, inexperienced kids—was probably a no-win situation. But they were in too far now.

"This next card is your feelings about all this. The Moon."

Moony, unsurprisingly, shifted slightly next to Peter.

"The Moon represents confusion, uncertainty in your faith or allegiance. Sometimes it means there's a rebirth on the way. Maybe that Three of Cups was about a baby after all!"

Lily and James rolled their eyes, but interlocked their fingers on the tabletop.

"The external opinion, however, indicates hope." She had overturned a card showing a beautiful girl with star-bright skin and golden hair.

For once, Sirius was not looking at the image of an unclothed woman; his gaze was fixed on Dorcas's face. He was following her every word. Probably to impress her later with his 'sensitivity', Peter thought, stifling a smirk.

"Appropriately, we move on to your hope and fears. The card could represent either." She turned over another. "In this case, it's the Sun, so probably hopes! The Sun means clarity and optimism and pleasant things. Renewed trust, moving forward, and so on. All good."

"Well, that's a relief," James smiled, meeting Lily's eyes and rubbing their joined hands.

"Finally," Dorcas intoned. "This represents the outcome."

Peter leaned forward to peer at the final card. It depicted a large snake, curved into a circle and gnawing its own tail. Within it was a figure holding a wand and chalice. It was labeled The World.

Dorcas's eyes lit up with satisfaction. "Well, that's quite appropriate to finish on!"

James looked uncertain, but curious. "It is?"

"The World is the last card in the Major Arcana—'

"What's—"

"The point," Dorcas said. "Is that the card represents the end of a cycle. The successful conclusion of a project. And, this card moves right back into the first—The Fool. One could even say it births it." She looked meaningfully at Lily, who cocked an eyebrow. "I'm just saying." She gave a lofty shrug.

"Essentially," she continued smoothly. "You're in a time full of tough decisions and uncertainty. People are afraid and unsure of where they stand, yet there's still hope and optimism shining on you, plus all the good fortune of an upcoming wedding celebration! And then, well, lots of other beginnings, I'm sure." Dorcas smiled, eyes darting ever-so-briefly to Sirius. "But I'm not seeing any endings—not until The World, which heralds success and completion. I'm not too worried!" She held her hands out in a ta-da gesture, and her audience clapped politely.

"Well done, Miss Meadowes."

They turned to see Dumbledore standing serenely by the kitchen door—they had not even heard it swing open. He had a curious little smile and a twinkle in his eye.

"I see my predictions regarding your talent and your future were correct." He winked, then refocused on the whole group. "We're preparing for a photograph. I would like to make sure everyone gets in it before the party settles and people start to leave."

Everyone rose quickly to round up guests, save Dorcas, who was tidying up her cards, and Peter, who felt uneasy about being photographed.

"Do we have to?" He muttered at the retreating backs of his best friends. Sirius turned at the last moment to catch Peter's eye. He jerked his head at Dorcas and winked, then exited the kitchen.

Peter watched the swinging door come to a stop. "Pretty impressive bit of fortune-telling, there."

Dorcas looked pleased, but pursed her lips in a rather businesslike way. "Well, I'm not sure I'd use that word. Divination isn't as simple as that."

"I'm sure you know better than me. Sirius always bragged about your Divination skills, you know."

This was a lie, but Sirius had given him The Signal. Peter was used to being the one assigned to approach girls and put in a good word—it just had to be good, not necessarily truthful.

"Did he?"

No. "Of course. But don't tell him I said that."

Dorcas wrapped her cards in a spangled scarf and slipped them into her pocket. "Your secret is safe with me." They both rose from the table, and Dorcas threaded her arm through his. "You know," she continued. "You're a good friend."

"I am?"

"Sure!" She smiled and pushed open the kitchen door. "Most guys lie so their friends won't get in trouble. You lie so he'll get another chance. That's pretty sweet."

Peter laughed, more squeakily than he'd intended. "Er. Sorry?"

"Like I said. Your secret is safe with me."

The Order was already mostly assembled in a few graduated rows in the parlor. Hagrid dwarfed them all from the back row, and attempted to huddle partway behind a curtain on one of the tall windows. Dumbledore was beside him, then Elphias Doge and Aberforth, whose arms were crossed. Auror Moody and the Longbottoms ended the row. Peter's classmates and friends knelt in the second row, arms looped around each other; a few of them were kissing—including Sturgis and Benjy, still—and everyone (excepting Aberforth) was laughing.

Sirius had sprawled dramatically on the floor in the front, striking a pin-up pose with one hand on his hip and the other under his head. He nodded at Peter and puffed his chest out a little, presumably for Dorcas's benefit.

"Oi, Peter!" Evidently James had had a few more cordials since he'd left the kitchen—his eyes were heavy-lidded and he was beckoning wildly with one arm, the other hooked around Remus' neck. Lily, whose poinsettia had wilted slightly, was on James's other side.

"Shall we?" Dorcas smiled, unhooking her arm from Peter's. She winked, looking for a moment like Sirius' mirror.

"We shall," Peter agreed, grinning. He met James's eyes and spread his arms in greeting, then took a few quick, long strides before dropping to his knees to slide. He bowled into Sirius and landed squarely between James and Lily, who slung their arms around his shoulders.

Dorcas lowered herself gracefully to the floor and sat cross-legged next to Sirius, who had straightened up into a sitting position. Sirius turned his head, catching Peter in the corner of his eye; his mouth quirked. Thanks, mate.

"Is that everyone?" Dumbledore asked, lifting a knobbly finger to count. "Very good."

A wooden tripod floated from the corner and unsnapped itself before landing in front of the group. The trigger floated to the side, tethered by a cord to the camera, which telescoped out and made a few shuffling noises.

Dorcas leaned back against Remus; Sirius touched his shoulder to hers.

"A very merry Christmas to you! Thank you all for your service. Say 'peppermint humbugs'!"

James and Lily closed in on either side; Peter felt Lily's soft cheek on his; James's hand tightened on his shoulder.

"Peppermint humbugs!"

The shutter clicked and left them blinking stars from their eyes.


I hope you are practicing severely restricted social distance, if you can! We have to be disciplined if we're going to shorten the grip of this disease. Be safe, healthy, and well.