Saturday 20th December 1975

Evans House 08:30

Lily yawned and blinked blearily into the darkness of her room. Reaching for her clock she frowned at the time. It was her first day back home. She was not supposed to be up this early. Why was she uo this early?

As if the universe wanted to answer that for her, shouting came from downstairs. Loud but incomprehensible shouting. Ah, yes. That would do it. Happy that she knew what happened, she snuggled back down under the covers and closed her eyes. Maybe she could get some more sleep.

Then her eyes sprung open as there was more shouting. It sounded like her parents. Were they fighting? Shouting at Chryssie or Petunia? Well, she may as well find out as she wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep. What a great way to start off the holidays.

"You aren't listening to me!"

Ah, it was Petunia. She had been very sullen and snappy with everyone in the brief time they had all been home from school.

"We don't think you understand how serious this is."

"This isn't fair! You're attacking me. Why aren't you going at Lily and Chryssie?"

"Because they aren't displaying any kind of bad attitude."

"I do not have a bad attitude!"

"If you want to get into university you'll really have to pull your socks up."

"What if I don't want to go to university? Did you ever think that?"

Petunia stormed past her, face like thunder.

"What's going on?" Lily asked the room.

Her dad ran his hand tiredly over his face.

"Morning, Lily," he greeted.

"Morning," she yawned widely and rubbed at her eyes. "What's going on?"

He sighed heavily and gestured towards the door. "Your sister hasn't exactly been doing well in her A-Level studies. Her Christmas report had several comments along those lines."

"A-Levels are supposed to be really hard," Lily offered by way of explanation."

"Yes. Your mother and I understand that but all of her teachers' comments said something like 'not reaching full potentional' or 'making no effort'."

"Oh."

Well, that wasn't good, was it? You couldn't just not put in any effort into your schoolwork. That was just silly. But Petunia had her moments of being silly. And overemotional. Neither of which were good things to be when mum or dad were scolding you.

"Sorry for waking you dear," mum said. "We didn't mean to start shouting."

Dad grumbled something but mum gave him a sharp elbow to the side.

"I'm going to make pancakes," he announced, trailing over to the kitchen.

"Did I hear pancakes?" Chryssie shouted, thundering down the stairs.

Sunday 21st December 1975

Tonks House, 14:00

"Oh, please, daddy. Please."

Ted pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath.

"I've told you, Dora, you need to ask your mother about this sort of thing."

"But-"

"No." He said firmly with uncharacteristic sterness.

Dora pouted and then gave in with a sigh. Normally her dad would run interference for her with her mum but apparently not this time. Hmpf. Well, she could do it herself. Maybe. She glanced at the kitchen door, mum was in the living room, tidying up - she had thrown Dora out when she tried to help (because she really wasn't that much of a help) and dad had been doing the cooking (mum, well, mum really couldn't cook). It was the perfect time to persuade him of something, she would have plenty of time. Too bad he couldn't be persuaded.

"Go on, go ask your mother," he said.

"I will," she said, going to do just that.

It wasn't like she was asking to go to a rave or something. This was a very simple request. She thought so anyway. That's what she tried to tell herself.

Hmm, actually... maybe she should wait until her mum wasn't busy. No one was ever in a good mood while they were cleaning, were they? And Dora needed her mum to be in a good mood. Or at least in a receptive one.

No. That was just an excuse. No excuses. She would just go straight in and ask her. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.

Poking her head round the living room door, she saw her mum finishing up that dusting spell of hers. The spell that Dora was no longer allowed to do after that incident over the summer of her trying to help. Look, there was only one small scorch mark on the skirting board now. And it was pretty light considering the amount of paint that was now on top of it. Surely that should be a perfect example of how she needed to practice it... wait, she was getting distracted. No getting distracted! She needed to be focused, in control, mature, confident...

"Nymphadora, is there a reason that you are loitering in the doorway like some sort of ragamuffin?"

"Noooo," Dora replied sheepishly, sidling into the room - of course her mum would know she was there, it was one of her freaky mum powers! "And don't call me Nymphadora!"

Mum sighed but didn't argue. A point in Dora's favour? Though maybe should start this whole thing off by arguing with her... that was rarely a good move.

Oh, come in and don't leave the door open. There's a draught."

"Right." Dora did just that and smiled again. "Hi, mum."

Her mum raised an eyebrow. "Hi, Dora."

Dora. That was a good sign.

"So, what was it you wanted?"

"Maybe i didn't want anything?" She tried.

Nope, mum didn't believe that at all. That's what the look she was currently sending her meant. Did mums know how to read minds? Was it some sort of superpower?

"Mm hmm. Want to try that again, Nymphadora?"

Aaand they were back to the full name. Great. Well, no going back now.

"Can we invite Sirius over the Easter break?" she asked in a rush.

"Slow down, Nynphadora," she got scolded. "I hardly understood a word of that. Now, who do you want to invite over Easter? You know any of your friends are welcome."

Not that she had invited many of those. Or even had many of those.

"Even Sirius?" Dora asked hopefully.

That made her mother freeze and almost drop the stack of magazines she had just picked up.

"Excuse me?"

"Sirius," she repeated. "Can I invite Sirius over?"

"Yes, I heard you the first time," mum said quickly, regaining her decorum.

"Then why did you ask?"

That got her a warning look. Right. Too cheeky. Dial it back a bit.

"And I don't know, Dora," mum said, chewing on her bottom lip. "It's not like we can just ask his parents."

Well, yes. Of course they couldn't do that. It was probably the quickest way to get cursed or something. No thank you. But Dora had already thought about this. She was prepared.

"I know he sometimes goes to James Potter's house," Dora suggested. "For weeks even. Maybe he can come over for a few days when he's with them."

"That is incredibly underhand and sneaky and we would her into so much trouble with his parents if they found out..."

"What are they going to do? Hate you more?"

Dora didn't think that was even possible. There was just no way.

"The Blacks can make life very difficult for people."

Something flickered behind her mum's eyes and Dora knew better than to pry.

"Oh but please! I won't talk about it at school or anything. We'll be really careful!"

"I don't know, Dora..."

"Pleeeeease?"

She was getting dangerously close to whining, she knew, but she couldn't let this opportunity to slip by. Oh, why did the Black Family have to be so stupid?

"I'll think about it." Mum said finally.

"That means no!"

That always meant no.

"No, that means I'll think about it."

Gryffindor Common Room, 18:00

Like all the dutiful boyfriends, Frank was waiting at the bottom of the stairs to the Girls dorms. There was about half a dozen of them in total, all waiting. Some more patiently than others.

Stuart had accidentally put on foot on the steps in his efforts to try and see if any of the girls were coming down. Of course, that triggered the wards on them and they promptly turned into a slide sending Stuart sprawling. Now his robes were all rumpled. Served him right.

Not that Frank's robes were sitting perfectly. His left sleeve was all crumpled due to his twisting of it. Which was annoying but he couldn't help it.

Why was he so nervous? It was silly to be nervous. This was just Alice after all. His girlfriend. His betrothed. He shouldn't be so nervous. She wasnkind and sweet and it wasn't like she was going to do anytbing to embarrass either of them. He should be excited about going to the Ball with her.

"Frank?"

Oh, that was Alice now. Whoops, she was at the top of the stairs. Oh, Merlin. If he was the type to whistle (which he wasn't be that was crass) he would. Alice was simply lovely. Beautiful.

"Did I hear the stairs get set off?"

"Blame Weasley," he said

"Ah, okay."

But that was enough on things that weren't about tonight. They weren't important.

"You look stunning," he complimented, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

He could do that now, instead of just kissing her hand. She blushed, which was just delightful.

"You look very handsome," she replied, looking up and down at him approvingly.

He had just got new dress robes this year. They were his best yet in his opinion - a dark navy blue with gold embroidery to make up the Longbottom crest. They made him feel very sharp. And Alice in her matching navy dress was going to look beautiful next to him.

"My lady," he said, offering her his arm.

She giggled at took it, that gesture never getting old to her.

They were joined by other pairs as they made their way through the corridors. Envious younger students glared at them as they went past. They would be sixteen soon enough.

"Good evening, Mr Longbottom, Miss Smith," Professor McGonnagall greeted as they reached the Great Hall. She was just going in herself. "I hope you have a good time tonight."

"Thabk you, Professor," Frank said for the both of them.

Now, Frank already knew that Hogwarts did Christmas well. He had been here six years after all. But the decorations for the Yule Ball, well, they were something else. There were the normal twelve foot trees in each corner, as well as the floating candles. But the strings of rather garish tinsel were replaced with fairy lights (literal fairies of course) and the House tables had been replaced by smaller, more elegant ones with spindly looking chairs Frank had only ever seen in Paris. It was beautiful.

"Oh, wow," Alice breathed woth wide eyes.

"It is amazing," Frank admitted.

There was even a band in the far corner, where the Skytherin Table would usually end. They were playing soft music which some people were dancing to in the middle of the room. Others were sitting at the tables, chatting.

Alice looked longingly at the dance floor. Frank knew she was a good dancer, she jad been dancing since she was four.

"May I have this dance?" He requested with a short bow.

Potter Manor, 19:30

James looked at his father in absolute horror.

"You can't be serious?" He said, eyes wide. "Please say you're joking."

Fleamont shook his head solemnly at his son. "I'm afraid I'm not, Jimmy."

"But, but, but..."

James honestly thought his brain had been fried at the piece of news that had just been dropped on him. He couldn't believe it. He wouldn't believe it. It was just too horrible to even contemplate so there was no way it could be true.

"What?" he finally managed to bring himself to exclaim.

There was really nothing else he could say. Because there was no way he just understood what came out of his dad's mouth correctly.

"It is. I have the letter right here," Fleamont held uo a piece of parchment that was headed with the Lestrange's crest. Crossed wands and a shower of sparks. "Lord Lestrage even requested a meeting with him in the new year."

"New year?" James squeaked very much like when his voice jad just started to break.

"Yes. The eighth, in fact."

"But, ill be back at school then!"

"Technically, you aren't expected to be involved."

If you're confused, don't worry, you weren't the only one. James had just been given the rather earth-shattering news that Leila Lestrange, Leila Lestrange, had been suggested as a possible Betrothed. As in, a marriage contract. As in, someone who he would have to spend the rest of his life with.

Why did Lord Lestrange even think that this was a good idea? The Lestranges didn't even like the Potters. They sneered at them. Turned up their noses at them. So why would he even try to organise a contract between the two families? It just didn't make sense. None of this made sense.

"But it's about me," James protested.

"Betrothals and marriage contracts are usually settled before one or both of the contractees are three. No need for any such involvement."

See, this is why his dad didn't like them. Normally. There was no consent involved from the most important parties of the damn thing which was kind of icky. It just didn't sit right with his dad. Which James had always been relieved about because he didn't think he would have been able to cope with a betrothed. He didn't even think about girls until the last year or so! That wouldn't have gone over well with whoever he was contracted to, he was sure.

"I am definitely not three."

Hadn't been for a while now. Obviously.

"Yes. People do find it pretty odd that you aren't betrothed to anyone." Fleamont said, adjusting the papers on his desk.

That was really nobody else's business, was it? It wasn't like it affected anyone. People were just too nosey for their own good.

"That's because you and mum think that I should be able to find my own love," James protested.

"Yes. Of course you should."

"And wait. How come she isn't betrothed? She should already be betrothed!"

She was a Lestrange. There was no way she wasn't betrothed. That was just a fact. The Lestranhes were way up there in terms of status. Not as high as the Blacks or the Potters but definitely higher than the likes of the Malfoys. They were of the 'Dark' crowd too. Entrenched in tradition no matter how damaging or backwards it was. Sure, James thought traditions were cool but so was progress. Believing in soemthing because that's the way it always has been was a bit of a silly reason for a tradition.

"I'm not sure," Fleamont said slowly. "I was almost certain that she was betrothed but apparently not."

Then his mum finally spoke up, she had just stood and watched until now.

"She was. She was betrothed to a Carrow boy. But apparently he was mixed up with the problems those Lestrange boys got mixed up in, though he wasn't as lucky to get off. I think he's in Azkaban for three months?"

James shuddered, he wouldn't wish Azkaban on anybody. Not even his worst enemy. Dementia sounded like awful creatures. Just awful.

"So, of course, the Lestranges put a lot of blame on him so they could get off," Euphemia continued. "Hece why they jad to break the betrothal agreement."

"Isn't Carrow in his last year at Hogwarts?" James asked, frowning.

"Yes. Well, was. Obviously, a criminal record means expulsion."

"Oh."

Well, he supposed that made sense. Couldnt have a criminal roaming the halls.

"How do you know these things?" Fleamont asked in amazement.

Euphemia smirked at him. "Gossiping isn't silly after all, huh?"

His dad good-naturedly rolled his eyes. That's what he always teased his wife about.

"Either way, her family is now looking for a new Betrothal Contract."

"And they chose me?" James asked sceptically.

Why on earth would a Lestrange choose a Potter? Really?

"You're probably the only one your age who doesn't have a contract."

"Ouch. Thanks, mum."

"Technically, we could have done it like the Longbottoms did and had a very blatant escape clause if either of the contracted did not think they were compatible."

"But you didn't."

"No." Fleamont agreed. "Because your mother and I experienced one, albeit under different circumstances."

"Yeah, mum was the last of her family line," James interrupted.

Mum had been an Allen, a now 'dead' family. There hadn't been any male heirs anymore. He knew that already.

Euphemia shuddered. "Made me feel like I was an animal to be sold or something."

Fleamont nodded in agreement. "Hardly something you want anyone to feel like. Your partner should feel cherished, not like she is goods of some sort."

"You're, you're not going to make me, are you?" James asked in a panic.

He wouldn't ever think his parents would but he never thought the Lestranges, of all the families, would ever do this sort of thing. He couldn't marry Leila! He didn't even know her!

"Of course not!" "Never!" Fleamont and Euphemia said at the same time.

James fertile a massive load had been taken off him and he could finally breath freely again.

"It was never an option," Fleamont reassured him. "I just thought that you should be made aware."

Fair enough. It would be awful to find out later down the road, even of nothing happened. It was his life after all. James pouted at his parents.

"You gave me a heart attack for nothing!"

Tuesday 23rd December 1975

12 Grimmauld Place, 13:30

Sirius sighed as he trekked back up to his room. That was yet another lunch over, thankfully. Just another twelve more of those to go. Great. Maybe he would head back to school early again. It wasn't like anyone here would really care. Or they would just not for the right reasons. And wanting to 'teach him a lesson' was not a right reason. Well, not to him anyway - to them it was and, oh, you get what he was saying.

Anyway, he was going back to his room. At least he would he alone there. Maybe he would hang some more red and gold material. That would cheer him up. There had been some ripped Gryffindor banners in the Quidditch store that he had brough home. A bit of trimming and they would be the perfect size for his room. And look much better than the decor elsewhere in the house. Or lack of it.

Christmas cheer was defintiely not something that existed in here. Well, Yuletide cheer really because Blacks didn't celebrate Christmas, don't be ridiculous. Eh, a lot of the traditions were the same. That's what Muggle Studies had shown anyway. Similar food, basically the same decorations and all that. Both sets of people had an unhealthy obsession with fir and pine trees which he would really rather do without. Why did people like that smell so much?

But yes, there was definitely no warm feeling of Yule in Grimmauld Place. No closeness, no feeling of togetherness, no really family cohesion. Everything was standoffish.

Oh, sure, the decorations were there and there were 'Yule' smells of cinnamon and other spices coming out from the kitchen. But that's where it ended. There was no warmth, no good feelings about it. Everything was perfectly done and put on display and that was that. It was all fake and cold. Al out uncomfortable. Sirius much preferred how Hogwarts did it.

Wednesday 24th December 1975

Madam Malkins, 20:00

Elsie yawned and stretched. There was nothing more satisfying than hearing her grandmother lock up the shop. Especially on Christmas Eve. They opened so late so as to get all the orders done. They were mainly for New Year's Balls and such - the Yule rush happening before Elsie and her sisters came back from school. Elsie didn't know how her grandmother coped with basically all of them being at school now.

She knew she certainly couldn't. She was absolutely exhausted and her fingers felt like they were about to fall off. And that was with everyone being here to help.

However, it was all over now and her bed was calling to her, even if she did have to share it with Sophie. Who kicked. That was one good thing about Hogwarts. A bed all to herself. But she wouldn't even care about that now, she was that tired.

She didn't know how her grandmother did it but she did. And as much as Elsie wasn't a fan of the woman, she jad to admire her for that.

That was the last thought she had before her head hit her pillow.

Thursday 25th December 1975

Slytherin Common Room, 11:15

Severus shook his head at Lily's letter, a small smile on his face. He was sure the snow was lovely on the grass when it was untouched but round in his street it always turned into a disgusting brown and slushy mess. Then again, his estate didn't exactly have any parks. That was why he always ended up in the one near Lily's.

Not that that mattered as he had the whole Hogwarts grounds open to him now. Not that he was out in them at the moment. Far too cold and he did not want to take part in a snowball fight. That was just so childish.

No, he was much better off in the warm Common Room, close to the fire and reading his letter. He coukd do that because again he was the only one in Slytherin who stayed over the holidays. Or basically the only one. There were two first years here as well but the tended to stick together and stay well out of his way. Which was just fine by him. Why would he want to talk to a bunch of first years anyway? He didn't.

Shacklebolt Flat, 14:00

Kingsley lobbed a ball of scrunched up wrapping paper at Hayden. It hit him right in the head. Ha! He was so winning this fight. His carefully calculated throws did far better than Hayden's technique of scooping up a bunch of wrapping paper and throwing it at him. His brother didn't even try to scrunched it up to give it some weigh so it never really hit him.

It had been a good Christmas. He had got a new radio and a book on how to enchant it to make it tune into magical stations - his latest hobby. He'd got a new football as well and Kingsley was going to make it a resolution to get some of his friends to have a kick about at Hogwarts. Watching Frank try to play football should be fun.

There were absolutely amazing smells coming from the kitchen. Turkey, roasties and glazed carrots. Yum. Mum really was a wonder when it came to Christmas Dinner. Dad was doing his ham this year as well. Both of them being in the kitchen at the same time seemed to be going well, for a change. No threats to skewer each other for a change.

"Dinner's ready," mum announced, standing in the doorway.

"Alright!" Hayden cheered, jumping uo and shedding wrapping paper.

Mum just shook her head at the mess they had made.

"You better clean that up before tonight if you know what's good for you."

"Dinner is good for me," Kingsley said cheekily, earning himself a swat from the tea towel she was carrying.

Saturday 27th December 1975

12 Grimmauld Place, 19:30

Nope. He had had enough. He couldn't stick it anymore. He couldn't stick his parents. He couldn't stick all the scolding he had been getting. He couldn't stick the way Regulus was ignoring him. Sirius was done. Done. And it wasn't even the New Year yet.

Huffing, Sirius shoved his uniform back into the suitcase he used for the shorter holidays. They went in all crumpled and willy nilly but he really couldn't bring himself to care. He just wanted out of here. Out of here and far, far away.

If Sirius had his way (and the abilties) he would create a portkey and go, oh, to the other side of the world. Even that wouldn't be far enough away from his parents but it would a start. But he couldn't do that so Hogwarts it would have to be. As soon as possible.

Like right now. He was done packing. Everything was in his suitcase and it was quite firmly closed. Sure, it bulged a bit and everything but it was closed. Now just to get out of here.

"And what do you think you're doing?"

Sirius froze. That was his father. It was always his father. Mother never came up to his room anymore. Not since he put permanent sticking charms on his posters and banners anyway.

"Back to Hogwarts," Sirius replied badly, shocking himself.

Though there was really no point in lying because he was pretty sure that his suitcase was very obviously showing his intentions.

"Face me when you speak to me."

Trust his father to be more hung up on manners even when faced with this sort of gross disobedience. But he didn't want to face his father. Not really. He didn't want to falter even a little bit. But he did turn round. If he couldn't even do that there was no way he was going to be able to walk past the man to get away.

So he face his father. His stony-facdd father with a set jaw.

"Would you like to repeat your plans now that you are being civil?"

Sirius summoned all his courage and puffed his chest out.

"I am going back to Hogwarts. For the rest of the holidays," he added needlessly.

"Are you indeed?"

Father actually sounded amused by that. It was quite insulting.

"I am."

"We are hosting a party for the New Year. You will be attending.

Sirius swung his suitcase around with a 'whoosh' and held it close to him.

"No. I won't."

Wednesday 31st December 1975

Potter Manor, 21:00

"Did you hear?" Frank asked, finally getting James alone.

"Hear what?"

James actually hadn't heard about it? Wow.

"About Black?"

That immediately got James on the defensive.

"Sirius? What's wrong with him? Is he okay? Is he hurt?"

Frank held up a hand to stop him. "Wow. Wait. He's fine. I think."

James squinted at him suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

Oh, how was he supposed to explain this delicately? He didn't want James to explode and create a spectacle of himself. But there was no easy way to explain it. He would just say it quickly, like ripping a bandage off.

"He's not at home. Apparently he went back to Hogwarts."

"What? But the Black's have a party tonight just like us!" James said in a loud whisper. "Wait, how do you know this?"

"Bones," he pointed to Edgar, who was trying to chat up MacDonald, told me that Winoa Prince told him. Her family was invited to the Black's party. The Bones had to drop by their place for something and she told him there."

"Oh."

James looked more than a bit lost and confused. Also a bit distressed.

"Yeah," Frank said awkwardly. "Thought you should know."

Friday 2nd January 1976

Gryffindor Common Room, 09:10

"Mr Black?"

Sirius looked up from his book to see Professor McGonnagall and three people he most certainly did not expect to see.

He scrambled to his feet, his book fall to the ground. "Lord and Lady Potter. James!"

What were they doing here? Was something wrong? Something had to be wrong!

"Sirius!" the three of them greeted.

James actually ran over to his him which ending up woth both of them landing heavily on the sofa.

"What, what are you all doing here?" He asked in amazement.

"To get you!" James exclaimed.

"What?"

"James," Mr Potter scolded but he sounded amused.

"Sorry, dad. But it's true!"

"I don't understand?" said Sirius

Mrs Potter came up from behind and gave him a hug.

"We just wanted to extend an invitation to you to spend the rest of the holidays with us."

"But the holidays are almost over."

They went back to school on Monday! Surely there was no point interrupting their last few days?

"Exactly why you should come!" James said.

"That doesn't make any sense."

"What doesn't make sense is you spending your holidays alone," Mr Potter told him.

"It's only for a few days."

It wasn't that bad. Sure, it was quiet and a bit boring but he could make it work.

"Yes, and they may as well be fun."

Had be mentioned before that it wasn't just James who was bonkers? It was the whole Potter family? Sure, he hadn't met his cousins but one of them was engaged to McKinnon's brother so she wasn't too same either.

"Mr Black, if I were you I would be packing a small bag of clothes," McGonnagall told him.

"I'm allowed to?" Sirius gasped, turning to McGonnagall.

Was this sort of thing against the rules? It felt like it should be.

McGonnagall shrugged and if Sirius didn't know any better he wohkd say that she was sniling!

"All Hogwarts needs to know is whether you will be here or not. It isn't any of our business where you spend it if you're not here. Which you won't be."

"I won't?" She raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh, I won't."

James' face brightened. "So, you're coming back home with us?"

"I, I suppose i am," he looked over to the Potters. "If that's okay with you."

Mr Potter clapped him on the shoulder.

"Sirius, it is more than okay."