Chapter 13

"There's my little girl!" my dad shouts as I close the door to my parents' house and am immediately enveloped in a crushing hug. I can't help but chuckle as my dad tries to spin me around, just like he did when I was a teenager and would come home for Christmas break.

"Dad!" I protest weakly, "at least let me put my bag down before you try to make me vomit!"

"Mauro, for Merlin's sake, let El loose," my mum chastises with a roll of her eyes. However, as soon as I am free of my Dad's hold, my mum moves in and swoops me into her arms, giving me a firm embrace.

"Guys, you are acting as if you haven't seen me in years! I was just here four months ago!" I exclaim, though I don't try to pull out of my mum's grasp. Truth be told, it feels good to be so obviously loved, and to return to a place that has always provided the most sense of normalcy I have ever had.

"We know," my mum responds, finally letting me go, though only pulling away enough to be able to properly look at me. "Its just with You-Know-Who having returned over the summer and all the horrible attacks, not to mention poor Susan Abbott being found murdered just last month…well, you can't blame us for worrying about you. At least you are at Hogwarts now, though, instead of St. Mungos. If there is any place that is safe from that monster, it is that school. I have heard that You-Know-Who is afraid of Headmaster Dumbledore, so I imagine that would be the last place he would attack."

Hearing my mum's words feels like a bucket of ice water has been poured over me. If she knew the truth, that Hogwarts and its venerable Headmaster are at the epicenter of the resistance, and that I am actively helping to defeat old Snake Face, she would worry herself to death. Thankfully, at that moment my deliverance arrives n the form of my little brother, who comes bolting around the corner so fast he slips on the marble and goes skidding into a planter near the bottom of the stairs.

"Oops," he grimaces, looking at the pile of dirt and the toppled shrubbery that now decorate the floor. "Sorry Mum." He makes a perfunctory effort to stand the plant back up and make it look presentable, but its clear that it isn't quite right. Leo eyes it critically for a moment, then shrugs and resumes running towards me at top velocity, clearly having learned nothing from his literal run in with a topiary. He throws himself at me with abandon, and it becomes clear that puberty has set in as I can no longer support his flailing limbs launching at me at top speed.

"Oof," I manage as the wind gets knocked out of me and I end up sprawled out on the floor with 5' 6" of excitable teenaged boy crushing my lungs.

"Merlin this child is going to be the death of me," Mum mutters in exasperation as she flicks her wand to fix the plant and just shakes her head at me.

"He might be the death of me too if he doesn't get off me so I can breathe," I wheeze out as Leo smiles sheepishly then rolls off me and offers a hand to help me up. "Bloody hell, when did you get so big? I see you everyday, you'd think I would have noticed."

"I did grow a little in the past few months, but I'm still short compared to most of the guys in my year," Leo huffs with faint annoyance.

"But that's what makes you cute," a slightly familiar voice comments from the doorway between the kitchen and the living room. Shifting my attention to said voice, I see Warrick leaning casually against the wall, wiping his hands on a dishtowel, and smiling at my brother with singular focus.

"Warrick, hi. I didn't know you were joining us for Christmas," I greet, breaking him out of his lovesick trance, prompting him to recall his manners and make is way over to greet me properly.

"Professor, it is a pleasure to see you," he comments with a refined air as he kisses my hand. "Unfortunately, I am only able to stay for Christmas Eve as I must do my familial duty and make the rounds at my family's annual Holiday Party on Christmas, but I am grateful to your family for hosting me until Christmas morning."

"Oh, Warrick, we've told you, its our pleasure!" My mum interjects, clearly having had this conversation with the boy already. "Its nice that Leo has someone to spend the holidays with and you are such a polite and helpful young man. You are welcome in our home at any time."

"El, did you know that Warrick is quite the budding chef?" my dad chimes in, causing the tall, muscular boy to blush just a tiny bit in embarrassment. "He's been helping us prepare the Christmas Eve feast!"

I admit that this information takes me by complete surprise, and I can tell by the smirk on Leo's face that it shows. "Really?" I can't help but ask.

"I don't know about being as good as your father states, but I do rather enjoy cooking," the boy responds modestly, throwing me for a loop once again. I thought Slytherins were supposed to be boastful of their own talents, not demure. I also thought most of them had house elves to do the cooking, particularly well to do ones such as the Spencers.

"Don't be stupid, War, you're an amazing chef," my brother scolds lightly, giving his boyfriend a playful shove for good measure. "Thanks to your cooking skills I've gained half a stone since the summer!"

"Well, I can't wait to try your masterpiece tonight during the Christmas Eve feast," I assert with a smile. "First, though, I need to put this bag away and clean up a bit. I did a few quick house calls between Hogwarts and here.

"You don't have any…brain or…fluids on you, do you?" my Dad asks nervously, examining me head to toe for any suspicious stains.

"No, you squeamish wuss," I reply to his relief. "I wasn't in the lab, I was with patients. Just doing some check ups, re-upping potion prescriptions, and dropping off Christmas gifts. Give me a half hour and we can catch up, ok?"

"Sure thing," he answers for the group. "Warrick, let's go check on the roast while Ellie's freshening up, eh?"

"Certainly, Mr. Rossi," the young Slytherin agrees as he follows my Dad back into the kitchen.

Exiting the shower I feel much better than I did going in. I didn't want to worry my mum and dad, but between the pressure of finding a cure for Albus, worrying about Severus's safety, prepping for my full admittance to the Order, and caring for my few remaining regular patients, I have been feeling rather on edge lately.

The latest visit to the Longbottoms did not aid my mood as it was a particularly bad day for Alice and nothing I did evoked any response from her. She just continued to stare out the window petting a stuffed toad throughout my check up. It seems the latest treatment is not having the desired effect, at least not yet. Still, I will give it a few more weeks before passing any judgment on its efficacy. I do have to say that is one positive about researching cures for Albus's curse; it is expanding my horizons and opening my eyes to more possible treatments for my other patients. This latest treatment for the Longbottom's is a variation on the both Severus's treatment and the potion I am trying with Albus. Only time will tell if it is helpful, though.

With a deep breath I put all of that in the back of my mind, aided by my Occlumency training, and I focus on having a lovely visit with my family. The scent that greets me as I head down the stairs is nothing short of heavenly and I am lured into the kitchen like one of those Looney Tunes cartoons Leo used to watch at his Muggleborn friend's house. To my surprise, it isn't my dad at the stove where the luscious aroma is originating from, but rather Warrick. The teen is softly stirring a simmering pot, adding a touch of…something…and muttering what sounds like steps to a recipe under his breath.

"Warrick, that smells amazing!" I gush, obviously startling the boy but he plays it off well. "What is it?"

"It's just a smoky onion remoulade for the crab cakes" he shrugs, clearly feeling a bit awkward seeing that it is just the two of us in the kitchen.

"Well, it smells anything but standard. I want to just dunk my head into that pot!" I joke, trying to help him feel more at ease associating with his Professor outside of school. Unfortunately I forgot that he isn't used to seeing my dorky side and I think all I have succeeded in doing is confusing the boy. "So, how did you get stuck with all the cooking duty?" I continue, still trying to salvage the situation and make some connection with the person who has captured my baby brother's heart.

"Your father was working with me, but he had to go help your mother get some China. I don't mind, though, he explains as he lowers the temperature on the burner and begins expertly slicing some chives. "I…I actually really enjoy cooking," he murmurs, seemingly ashamed of this statement, which is incredibly odd to me. I would love to be able to cook like he apparently can. My dad has tried to teach me, and I think I am fairly good at it (I haven't poisoned anyone yet, anyway) but clearly Warrick is on another level based on how easily he is managing this sauce.

"That's great, Warrick," I assure him with my most comforting smile, the one I use with frightened patients. "My dad has tried to teach me to cook for years but its still something I have to put a lot of thought and focus into in order to do it well. You look like a natural."

To my shock, the young man smiles guilelessly. "Thank you, but that's probably just because I have had a lot of practice."

"Oh, do you cook often at home?" I ask, which is apparently the wrong thing to say as Warrick immediately turns away to fiddle with some potatoes.

"Um, no," he mumbles as he starts cracking crab legs. "We have house elves and my parents believe cooking is a…menial task that is…below our station." The last few words are ground out through gritted teeth and I can tell his parents' disparaging feelings about something he is clearly very passionate about bother the young man.

"I'm sorry to hear they feel that way, but it's their loss. Clearly they are missing out on some wonderful cuisine if this is anything to go by," I try to reassure him. "So where do you practice your craft, then?"

"Mostly at school. The Hogwarts elves have actually been teaching me since second year when I followed one of them to the location of the kitchens. At first they were aghast at me demanding that they teach me, but one of them stepped up and volunteered. When the rest of them saw how happy it made me, they all joined in. I've actually been able to help them make some of the food that they serve to the students." The joy on Warrick's face as he recounts this is undeniable, and I can see some of that hidden depth that Leo talks about when he is waxing poetic about his boyfriend.

"That's amazing!" I reply with genuine enthusiasm. "I'm glad you have a place to practice what you love. Does anyone know that some of the great food they are eating comes from you?"

"Only Leo. That's actually how we met. With the Hufflepuff dorms being so close to the entry to the kitchen he kept seeing me hanging around down there. Leo being, well, Leo," he says with a 'you know what I mean' look that causes me to chuckle, "he started talking to me every time he saw me. I tried to ignore him, being suspicious of why he was approaching me, but that boy cannot take a hint. He just kept coming up to me and after a while, that damn perfect smile and unfettered enthusiasm wore me down. The next thing I knew he was partnering up with me in Charms and Herbology, and following me around every chance he got. My dorm mates stated calling him my shadow. Some of them gave him a hard time at first, of course, considering he's a Hufflepuff, but when he failed to rise to their bait they got bored and left him alone. Well, for the most part," he adds with a dark look and I know he is recalling that incident with the punks who harassed Leo about being gay.

"I'm glad he managed to charm you, though not very surprised," I say with a smirk, knowing how effective Leo's puppy dog eyes can be. "I like you, Warrick," I add candidly. "And I appreciate you looking out for Leo. I'm sure you've noticed that he tends to be a bit too trustworthy sometimes."

"That's for sure. Still, I suppose it kind of balances us out, since I tend not to trust anyone."

"I've noticed that is a predominant trait of Slytherins," I lead with a raised brow.

"Having dated Professor Snape I'm sure you have," he quips back.

"Touche. Speaking of not trusting people, I was wondering if you would be willing to do me a favor?" I ask as I cast a Silencing Spell over the kitchen. Dad stops himself from coming back into the kitchen when he notices and just gives me a wink before turning away. I can only assume he thinks I am giving Warrick the "if you hurt my brother" speech, but what he doesn't know can't hurt him.

"What do you need?" he shrewdly asks.

"I need someone to keep an eye on one of the students, just to let me know if he seems to be acting strangely. Since the student in question is a Slytherin, I thought you might be able to help me out."

"Which student, and why?" Warrick asks suspiciously.

"Draco Malfoy. As for the 'why' unfortunately I can't say. What I can tell you is that it is a matter of utmost importance, possibly the difference between life and death. With that said, I realize my asking this of you is completely unethical, and possibly dangerous, so I assure you there is no pressure for you to agree. I like you, and I think you are good for my brother, so I won't try to sabotage your relationship or hold it against you in any way if you don't want to do it," I explain, hoping I have not just made a huge mistake that could cost me my career.

The young man looks thoughtful and I can almost see him mentally weighing the pros and cons in his head. "To be honest, I don't know Malfoy all that well. He is a grade above me and is so self-absorbed that he barely ever bothers with anyone who isn't of use to him. I'm not sure if I would be able to tell if he was acting strangely or not."

"That's a fair point, but what I have in mind would be fairly obvious on anyone. Specifically I would like to know if he is sneaking off alone frequently, acting particularly nervous, or missing classes regularly," I elaborate, thinking of the most common signs that Draco would display if he was trying to launch another scheme with the intention to kill Albus.

"Very well, I can do that," Warrick says surprisingly simply.

"Really?" I ask in shock. Who would have guessed he would capitulate so easily. I figured he'd need some sort of incentive or bribe, to be honest.

"There is one condition, though," he adds before I get too excited. "I have to be able to tell Leo about this. I know whatever is going on is a delicate, confidential situation, but your brother is an observant little bugger and a jealous one, at that. If I suddenly start paying a disproportionate amount of attention to another fit blonde he'll be seriously narked. I want to help you out, but I'm not willing to let my relationship with Leo go pear shaped for you."

"That's reasonable. Just be warned that my brother will question you, and I, incessantly for details. Don't say I didn't warn you," I caution as I drop the Silencing charm around the kitchen.

"Duly noted," he responds with an edge of suffering that tells me he has been subjected to Leo's insatiable curiosity before.

"How's that sauce coming, Warrick?" my dad casually asks as he coincidentally breezes back into the kitchen at that precise moment. Giving Warrick a secret smile, I excuse myself to go help set the table and catch up with Mum. I feel good about having another set of eyes on Draco, and with that added layer of protection I can finally set aside my worries for a few days and enjoy the holidays with almost all of my favorite people beside me.

"Sis, you have a letter!" Warrick calls out far too early on Christmas morning. I roll over and cast a Tempus charm, flopping back onto my pillow once the numbers 5:23 glow above me.

"It is way too early for mail, Leo. Or anything requiring my eyes being open, for that matter," I grumble, pulling the cover back over my head. "Just give the owl some treats and let him nap on Chino's perch."

"Yeah, um, this owl does NOT seem interested in that," Leo replies, now clearly right outside of my door.

Obviously I am not going to be left in peace to sleep until a decent hour, so I pry my eyelids open and force myself out of bed. "Someone had better be dying," I mutter angrily as I rip my door open.

"I wouldn't know since this petulant little owl tries to bite anyone who comes near it!" my brother responds with clear annoyance, directed at a tiny black Strix owl.

"Hi little one," I greet as the owl in question puffs up and lets out an angry screech. "Eeh, ok, I guess you don't like being called that. Sorry. Is that a letter you have for me?" I ask politely, trying to get back on the bird's good side. The owl eyes me suspiciously, but after a few beats it relents and sticks out its leg so I can take the missive.

"Thank you," I say as I gently remove the message, noting that the owl preens a bit at the praise.

E,

I suppose, considering the date, that I must begin this correspondence with holiday wishes to you and yours. With that now settled, I will move on to matters of importance. I trust you made it to your intended destination without incident.

I am writing to inform you that the subject of our mutual study has begun showing slight signs of improvement in response to the latest course of action. Before you go bite your arm off, it is only slight improvement and it does not require immediate study or maintenance. In fact, the subject has informed me that if you cut short your time with your family to return to study the effect, he shall be quite "cheesed off" (his words, not mine…obviously). He was in favor of keeping this development close to the vest until after the holiday in order to ensure you stay put, but I figured you would want to know post haste, hence this letter, of which the subject supposedly knows not. Do not reveal my duplicity by foolishly rushing back here.

Finally, the owl that, with any luck, delivered this missive is named Nirah. She was a Christmas gift from our subject, for reason unbeknownst to me. Still, I suppose it is preferable to garish socks. Nirah can be rather shirty when she wants, so be cautious when handling her. She seems to have an affinity for bangers, if bribery is required for return post delivery.

-S

I fold the letter and can already feel the stupid grin on my face. Leo is looking at me with an inquisitively raised brow, but I just tousle his hair, much to his annoyance, and thank him for letting me know about the letter.

"Hello Nirah," I properly greet the owl now that I know her name. "You are a beautiful girl. You did an excellent job delivering this letter. I believe you've earned yourself a reward. How about some lovely bangers, eh? Dad always makes some for Christmas brekkies," I coo, noting the owl perk up at the mention of the sausages. To my surprise, she hops from the banister to my shoulder and gently nuzzles my hair. "Well, I will take that as a yes," I say with surprised joy. After all, I wouldn't do for Severus's owl and I not to get on.

"How did you do that?!" Leo demands. "I've been trying to calm that bird for 15 minutes and I nearly lost a finger!"

"Ah, my dear brother, it is all about knowing your subject. It seems this little lady is rather fond of bangers. Of course, you shouldn't feel too badly, I only know that due to the contents of the letter."

"Oh, well, ok then. Who's the letter from, anyway?" Leo asks, regaining his usual jubilant attitude.

"A friend," I reply mysteriously with a subtle wink.

"OH!" he exclaims, decidedly less subtle. "I got you. No wonder you are all cherry now," he insinuates with a smile that is far more lascivious then I need to see on my 15 year old brother.

"Get stuffed," I come back with, shoving him good-naturedly. "Now move your skinny arse downstairs so I can get Nirah here her bangers before she decides my ear is an acceptable substitute."

"Ooh, and after that we can open PRESENTS!" he exclaims, heading for the stairs with a noticeable pep in his step.

"Children," I sigh, following more sedately. In reality, though, it warms my heart seeing my brother act like what he is; a child. With everything that has been going on lately and the war that is brewing, it is refreshing to see kids still getting excited over something as simple as Christmas gifts. It is also buoying to hear that one of my treatments is finally having a positive affect on the curse on Albus! I won't lie and say that I am not severely tempted to floo over to the school immediately, but I know Albus will just tut at me, refuse to be examined, and send me back here. With all the discipline I possess, I squash my academic enthusiasm back down and follow the blonde ball of energy that is my brother down the stairs to the expansive living room.

My dad, barely more of a child than my brother when it comes to Christmas morning, is already up and hard at work preparing the morning feast. He has always done a full fry up on Christmas morn, despite the fact that everyone is always stuffed from Christmas Eve dinner the night before. Between the tradition of the The Vigil with its seven (or in our house, nine) fishes and the delicious but heavy Italian desserts, I don't know where Dad expects us to fit fried eggs, bangers, black pudding, and more in our stomachs. Despite the fact that only a quarter of it ever gets eaten, it makes him happy to do it, so we don't object. It doesn't take Merlin to see that food is my dad's way of expressing love, so I loosen the tie on my pajama bottoms and enter the kitchen, basking in the feeling of having a loving family and hoping that, someday, when this war is over and Voldemort is defeated, Severus can know this feeling too.