8. Comfort and Joy
'Severus, my love,
I never thought I'd dread to talk to you one day. After all we promised each other to never let misunderstanding come between us again. But now I am so afraid of what you are going to say, that I thought I'd better write you a letter to …'
When Laurel woke up with a start, she was still clutching the parchment in her hand. At some time after midnight she'd decided that writing a letter to Severus would be an act of cowardice. She'd talk to him as soon as he returned to their quarters. She'd settled into the deep chair by the fire, but somehow she'd fallen asleep … The bedroom door stood ajar and even in the dim light she could see that the big four poster bed was untouched. Frowning she crumbled the letter into a small ball and threw it into the embers.
Now, this was simply ridiculous! How had they ever got caught in a situation like this? She in the living room, Severus just across the corridor in the Potions lab - and yet miles apart? When had they stopped talking to each other?
Determinedly she rose from the chair and carefully opened the door to the nursery to check on Jonah. The little boy slept like an angel, long lashes throwing trembling shadows onto his rosy cheeks with every breath. She pulled the blanket up to his chin and gently stroked the down-like hair away from his forehead.
Then, leaving the door open, she straightened her shoulders and went across the corridor.
Severus stood by the work-bench, frowning in concentration as he spooned a fine powder onto minuscule silver scales. On the fire a cauldron simmered. Heavy scents lay in the air, sharp cinnamon, sweet vanilla, and something else Laurel could not define.
Nervously she cleared her throat.
The Potions master looked up, frowned and raised his hand to ask wordlessly for another moment. When he had finished weighing the exact amount of ground pearl, he stirred the powder into the steaming brew in the cauldron. Then he put his wand down and faced the woman he loved.
"Laurel …"
"I waited for you," she said simply, and from the way she bit her lip he knew that she only appeared calm on the outside.
"I left a note I had to work all night," he said. "On your pillow."
"Oh." She shook her head tiredly. "I didn't go to bed."
They looked at each other, both at a loss for words.
Laurel was the first to speak, but when she did, her voice trembled dangerously. "Did I do anything wrong, Severus?"
His head jerked up in surprise. "No. No, of course not."
"Do you regret that we adopted Jonah?"
He drew in a deep breath and shook his head.
Frustration welled up in Laurel. "Then what is it? Why do you avoid me? Why do you treat Jonah like some dangerous creature? He adores you, Severus! And you push him away every time he gets close to you!"
All the blood drained from his face. Laurel's throat ached with the comforting loving words she held back to wait for his answer.
"I am sorry."
His voice betrayed no emotions, and she felt how her heartbeat accelerated with growing anger. No way she'd allow him to retreat into cold politeness.
"You are sorry? About what?" she hissed. "About letting me sleep alone for weeks? About saving Jonah's life?"
Severus stepped further back and brought the work bench between them as a safety zone. Why did she make it even harder for him than it was anyway?
"I am sorry about my inability to deal with the situation," he explained awkwardly.
"The situation?" Laurel's eyes narrowed. "What situation?"
He turned away and stared into the fire. The potion in the cauldron simmered and fumed and was probably already spoiled, but he could not care less.
"I will always be thankful I had the chance to save Jonah," he said so softly Laurel could hardly hear it.
"Then what is it, Severus?" The stubborn tinge in her voice made it clear she would not let him get away without an explanation. "Is it because he is not your biological son?"
She saw his back stiffen. "I told you a long time ago that I don't believe in blood."
"Then what is it?"
"You love Jonah. I knew that would happen once we had a child," he said. The fire flickered and made the shadows move like dark dancers. Severus gripped the edge of the work bench so hard it almost cracked. "He is so … vulnerable, and he needs all the love he can get. I know that best of all. You'd never leave your child, and you'll always love him. I wouldn't have it any other way." He turned and faced her, his expression still hard and uncompromising. "When I said I was sorry, I meant I am sorry that it is so hard for me to …"
Laurel stepped around the work bench and reached for his arm. He flinched and raised a hand to hold her back while he spoke.
"Two years ago I lived without love, and I did not even miss it. I never noticed how cold the world was. Then you came, and you wrapped me in a blanket. And now, that I have to go without it again, I am freezing. But I'll get by. It just takes time."
"Severus?" Laurel frowned, and this time she would not let him retreat any further. "Are you by any means thinking that I don't love you anymore?"
He avoided her shocked gaze. "It is alright. I only ask you for a little patience until I adapt."
"No!" she exclaimed. "Damn it, Severus, you are one of the most intelligent wizards I know and still you can be so heart-wrenchingly stupid at times!"
His mouth set in a hard line, and his black eyes bore into hers.
Laurel touched his cheek with utmost tenderness. "Severus," she whispered, "love is not a limited resource. You need not give up your share for Jonah's sake. And do you really think I'd take my love away just because we have a child now?"
A tremor went through his body and he relaxed gradually.
Feverishly she went on: "It is the other way around. Love grows with every moment. And it is not just my love you can be assured of. Jonah adores you, Severus. Just look at his face when you enter the room. For him you are a hero who can do no wrong. The wizard who can make brooms fly and fires light up with a mere flick of his wand."
"But I don't know what to do with him! I might hurt him." Severus sighed. "And I … I don't want him to fear me like I feared my father."
"You just said you didn't believe in blood. There is nothing of your father in you, my love. Nothing."
"Jonah is so small, and I never had much contact with babies, as you can imagine."
She smiled at his obvious embarrassment. "Just follow your heart, Severus. You'll do the right thing."
"I would understand if you …," he started, only to have Laurel close his mouth with her hand.
"But I would not! Am I right when I think you avoided my bed to …"
"To learn to exist without you once more." He closed his eyes. "It was much harder than resisting Voldemort's summoning, believe me."
He smiled shakily, and suddenly the tension between them shifted dramatically without lessening a little bit.
Laurel's breath grew ragged when she touched his chest with both hands. "But now, that we have cleared this … do I have to summon you?"
He kissed her, almost frantic. It was quite unexpected and lasted for a wonderful, never ending moment. Then he picked her up and when he spoke, his voice was only a low growl. "The work bench or the bed room?"
Laurel gasped when he kissed her again, and almost cried with relief that she had him back. "Lets start where we are and work our way to the bedroom step by step."
* * *
At first Serene refused to let the soft knocking at the window disturb her sleep, but when it did not stop, she hesitantly opened her eyes. It was still dark outside, and even with dawn rising late so close to the winter solstice, it could only be five or six.
She mumbled a spell to light her wand, and saw that the early caller was an owl, perching at the window sill. Jumping out of bed, she let the exhausted bird in, and while the messenger warmed up next to the fireplace, Serene slipped back under her quilt and opened the sealed parchment, only to have another smaller letter fall in her lap.
The big letter came from Claire, and was the expected heartwarming mixture of admonition, sound advise and kindness.
Serene could only assume that their letters had crossed. But the chances for getting a real Christmas tree with all the trimmings were good …
With a big smile on her face Serene finished Claire's letter - only to feel all joy seep out of her while she slowly comprehended the last sentences. With trembling fingers she opened the second scroll.
* * *
Laurel was not even awake when she heard the distant wailing. Drowsily she scrambled out of bed. While her bare feet searched for slippers, she bowed to the other side of the bed and kissed the sleeping wizard with an indulgent smile. How young he looked when he slept, how uuntouched by evil and by the hardships of life …
The wailing came from the nursery, and while Jonah had been very good all night long - as if he'd known that his parents were in sore need of a few undisturbed hours - he seemed to get into his bad dream phase now.
Laurel knew that sometimes he only moaned and whined a little and then slept on quietly. So she tiptoed to the nursery to watch Jonah toss and turn. In case he woke up screaming, she'd be close by to comfort him. Just when she considered waking him up before it got really bad, she heard another sound, a soft knocking at the door.
She glanced at the clock. It was barely seven, and this being Christmas Morning everybody in Hogwarts should still be asleep. When she opened the door, she found Dobby beaming up at her, proudly presenting a parchment scroll and a small parcel, wrapped in colorful paper.
"I is getting mail!" Dobby piped with a tinge of excitement in his voice.
"That's great, Dobby." Laurel suppressed a big yawn. She had not slept much last night, she remembered, and the yawn quickly turned into a rather smug smile. "Do you want me to read it to you?"
"No!" The elf frowned, a facial expression elves managed only in times of great confusion or serious dismay. "Dobby knows to read. Dobby learns it all in Miss Claire's school. Dobby even writes his name, he can!"
Laurel smiled apologetically. "I am sorry, Dobby. I forgot!"
Most of the Hogwarts elves could read and write quite well, since they were surrounded by books and learning all the time. Headmaster Dumbledore encouraged them to sit in at the lectures when they had time off - a fact the elves would never admit, since leisure was something no decent elf ever had … Anyway - Dobby, who had not grown up in Hogwarts but in the Malfoy household, apparently had learned enough in Claire Winterstorm's elf-school to read a letter.
"So, is it a Christmas card?" Standing in the drafty corridor in the early morning did not further Laurel's patience. "Did Harry send you a Christmas card?"
Dobby shook his head fervently. "Harry Potter give Dobby a card in person! The letter, it come from Miss Serene."
Laurel's eyes widened in surprise. "Serene? You got a letter from Serene? What does she write?"
"She tell Dobby Merry Christmas," beamed the elf and flapped his ears. "And she puts other letter in Dobby's."
He handed her a somewhat crumpled parchment and the present, bobbed his head and disappeared around the corner, still waving his letter. Trembling with curiosity, Laurel unfolded the parchment and skimmed Serene's letter. Remus had assured her that her friend was well if a bit exhausted, but only now that she read it in Serene's own words, she felt at ease. Within a few hours Laurel's mood had lifted considerably. The fears her heart had harbored for so long, had vanished - through nothing more than a few words. Severus still loved her … and her friend was safe. She could only hope that Serene had a Christmas at least half as beautiful as her own.
Laurel folded the letter and shook the wrapped box curiously. This had to be Serene's present for Jonah …
She froze, suddenly petrified when she became aware of … nothing.
Silence.
There was no sound - and shouldn't there be her little boy weeping desperately? She had left him only minutes ago, and he had sobbed in his sleep even then. By now he should be crying. But there was nothing, and when she ran back to the nursery, she found only an empty crib.
For a moment she could not breathe, not move, not think. Then cold panic almost suffocated her.
Somebody had taken Jonah. Somebody had managed to break all the magical barriers around Hogwarts, and had abducted the boy to deliver him to Voldemort. It took all her strength to not hyperventilate at the thought what would happen to her child once Peter Pettigrew laid hand on him.
Severus! She had to wake Severus! He'd know what to do, how to find Jonah …
She stormed into the bedroom, shaking with anxiety, only to stop as if she'd ran into an invisible wall. It took a few heartbeats until she comprehended the scene.
Severus lay sprawled over the bed, Jonah safely tucked into the crook of his arm. The little boy's tiny hand clutching the wizard's long dark hair.
When Laurel stepped closer, Severus instinctively drew the boy closer. Jonah drooled onto his father's chest, and Laurel had to fight back the tears. Then she shook her head. Was there anybody in the world with less reason to cry than she?
Slowly and ever so gently she lifted the duvet a little to slip into bed on the other side of Jonah. Severus, feeling her presence even in his sleep, sighed and reached out for her.
"He cried," the Potions master mumbled. "Didn't know what to do with him."
Laurel blinked back another bout of tears and brushed a kiss onto his lips. "You did the right thing, I guess."
* * *
Last night's rain had turned into snowfall, and by the time the Lupins had breakfast in the kitchen, the snow lay like a thick duvet over the garden and the hedge that bordered onto the forest.
Serene tried to protest when Abby filled her plate with a stack of crispy pancakes, but then she remembered Remus' words and started eating.
"Remy never told me he had sisters," she said when Jerome passed her a big bowl of sweet café au lait.
"Remus was our first child," explained Abby and sat down next to her husband. "We always wanted lots of children. But then Rem go bitten …" Her voice shook a little. Jerome laid his hand over hers in comfort. "He was only five years old, and the doctors told us he had no chance to survive the infection."
"Abby would not accept that," said Jerome and Serene could hear the pride about his wife's determination in his words. "We consulted healers, sorcerers, even Muggle vets. For two years we lived day by day, always dreading the worst. But Remus was a brave little guy."
Abby took a sip of coffee and looked out into the falling snow. "The pain of transformation is so horrible that most bitten children die after a month, as soon as the first full moon triggers the …," she swallowed hard, "the wolf."
Serene winced when she remembered the numerous scars on Remus' body.
Jerome tapped lightly with his fork on her plate. "Eat!" he ordered. "Or Abby won't tell you anything."
While Serene chewed obediently, Abby described the various cures they had tried on Remus. "He screamed with fear," the older woman remembered. "He did not understand what was wrong with him. And once he had transformed into the wolf, we could hardly restrain him, even as the cub he was then."
"We lived on a farm near Toulouse," said Jerome. "The building was very old and had a deep Roman cellar. We cushioned the stone walls with straw, and that's where Remus went when the moon called him."
"In a cage …," Serene said softly.
Abby looked up, frowning. "A cage? We would never put our child into a cage!" she protested fiercely.
Serene blushed. "I … I once dreamed about Remus, a long time ago. He was in a cage then."
Jerome shook his head. "Not in our house. And certainly not in Hogwarts. Albus Dumbledore does not believe in cages, either."
She nodded slowly. "When did it get better? When did you know he'd survive?"
Remus' mother blew out a deep breath, as if she still felt the relief. "It got better over night. Like magic, really. When he was seven, he suddenly stopped crying all the time. He had a growth spurt, he put on some weight, he found his smile again. And he suddenly possessed a certain …," she cocked her head and looked at her husband for help.
Jerome nodded. "A quiet self-assurance. Even when the children in the French village would not play with him."
"The grammar school would not admit him when they found out he was a werewolf. The children threw stones at him." Abby shuddered, and impulsively Serene put a hand on her arm. "They shouted 'Loup garoux' after him … I can still hear them."
"Then the British MWF offered me the position in Sherwood," said Jerome. "We moved, and since the village of Littlejohn is too small to have its own school, Abby and I taught Remus."
"As soon as Remus got better," Abby smiled, "I got pregnant. As if the girls had waited until their brother was alright."
"So they are much younger than Remus." Serene nodded. "And of course he went to Hogwarts soon after you moved to Sherwood."
"Julia, our youngest, was born when Remus turned ten," confirmed Abby. "We had always planned to send Rem to Beauxbatons, since Jerome is French. But they would not admit a werewolf, and neither would any other school between Greece and Island. Hogwarts was the second institute we applied at, but they refused to admit our boy, too."
"But .."
Jerome chuckled. "But then we got a letter … when was that, Abby? A week before school started? Albus Dumbledore introduced himself as the new Headmaster, and his first task was to convince the school board to allow Remus to come to Hogwarts." He rose from his chair and smiled at Serene's empty plate. "Good girl! Now, enough of these old stories. Abby, do we have a decent pair of boots for Serene? We better get going and find us a Christmas tree."
* * *
Claire beamed at Harry and their guest.
"Well, Merry Christmas to all of us!"
She raised the cut glass goblet with pumpkin juice, and both Harry and Castor Black followed her example.
They were seated by a roaring fire in the southern salon, and waited for Coco to ring the bell to call them to lunch. As every year the elves had outdone themselves with preparations for a veritable feast, and the delicious scents that wavered through the Manor were tantalizing.
Still, Harry let his head hang low and had spent the last hour reading the same page of his Quidditch magazine over and over again.
Claire reached for his hand. "Harry? What's wrong?"
He pushed up his glasses and gave her a sheepish smile. "Nothing. It is only that I …"
She smiled encouragingly.
"You'll remember I wasn't very … pleased when you and Sirius got married," Harry frowned, and Claire gave his dark shock of hair a quick tousle.
"But then you were so…," he blushed a bit, "so friendly. And I thought we could be a family, although we are not related."
"But we are, Harry," Claire tried to comfort him. "We are family."
"I know. Only, I hoped I'd have a real Christmas this year."
"A real Christmas?" asked Castor.
"Well, like in the books, you know," Harry explained awkwardly. "Where the whole family is there, and you talk and eat together. Only …"
"Only Sirius is not with us," concluded Claire. Sometimes the Fidelius Charm, as necessary and life-saving it had proved to be, was nothing less than cruel, especially on Sirius' closest friends.
"I know I am only a bad replacement for my brother," Castor smiled. "Still, it was very friendly to invite me, Claire."
She shook her head. "You are family as well. We should meet more often. And Christmas is the right occasion to get to know each other. So - tell me all the family secrets." She winked at him. "You should have brought your … girlfriend."
Castor smirked. "Don't have any at the moment. The last one decided that she could not live with my many faults any longer."
"So you got faults? You can't be Sirius' brother then," Claire joked and rose clumsily. "The Blacks don't have any faults!"
He chuckled. "Well, this one does, apparently. Commitment-shy. Arrogant. Lazy."
"Should have stuck with that little musician you were so crazy about, then," said a dry voice from the door.
Harry shot up from his chair. "Sirius!"
"Merry Christmas, again, Harry," smiled Claire and watched with delight how the lanky boy hugged her husband.
Castor looked at his brother with a mixture of joy and alarm. "Siri! As much as I am pleased to see you …"
"I know. I should hide somewhere … bla bla bla." Sirius gave his younger brother a rough hug. "Can you forget you are an Auror until after lunch?"
Castor smirked and pointed at his blank collar. "I am off duty until the New Year."
When a fine chime announced that the elves allowed them to enter the dining room, Claire clapped her hands. "Lunch! I am starving!" She turned and pretended to straighten a painting at the wall. "Go ahead, I'll be with you in a second."
While Harry and Castor left, Sirius and Claire lingered in the salon for another moment.
"Why are you crying?" asked Sirius worriedly.
She shook her head and sniffed. "I am only being sentimental. This is not only the best Christmas Harry ever had, but also …"
"Merry Christmas then, Mrs. Black," Sirius whispered, when he buried his face in her hair and gently stroked the bump under her robes. "And to you, my little daughter."
* * *
In the late afternoon Abby suddenly stopped filling pie-forms with pumpkin and cream, and put the rolling-pin down.
"That's the girls!" she announced brightly and chuckled at Serene's surprised gaze. "No, I am not psychic. But I am a mother!"
And really - within minutes the living room and kitchen brimmed over with people, all hugging and kissing whoever they could get a hold of. Children complained about being ignored, men laughed, women fussed with each other's hair, while Serene stood in the kitchen door, suddenly feeling tongue-tied and shy.
Finally Jerome took mercy on her and grabbed her hand to draw her into the center of the group.
"Everybody - this is our guest, Serene. She is a friend of Remus' …," he chuckled softly and gave her a wink, "… a very dear friend."
Serene blushed. Jerome started to introduce the new-arrivals. "Our daughters Helena and Livia, and their husbands, Louis and Peregrine. Helena teaches Astrology at Beauxbatons, so you will have a lot to talk about. This …, "he pointed at a small boy, "is Alex, Livia's eldest son, and over there, sleeping in the chair, is Maxime."
Livia smiled apologetically. "The ride over the channel was a bit rough."
Jerome went on. "The little girls, all three of them, are Helena's. Delphine, Marguerite and Noelle."
The smallest girl, a spitting image of her grandmother, ventured to Serene and touched the sleeve of her robe. "I like your dress," she said with a slight French accent.
"So do I!" A blond witch entered the living-room, almost buckling under the burden of a cloak, a large lute case and various other pieces of luggage. She dropped the bags, but set the lute carefully onto the couch. "What a shame that you can't do anything about Rem's appalling dress sense!"
"This," laughed Jerome at Abby's delighted scream, "is our daughter Julia, the musician."
"Concert in London got postponed until the end of December," Julia explained, almost suffocated by her mother's kisses. "So I decided to join the family for Christmas."
While the female members of the Lupin family took the children upstairs to put them into bed for a nap, the wizards carried luggage into the house. Peregrine, a fair-haired fresh faced farmer from what Serene had been told, grinned at her.
"They can be quite overwhelming at times," he said. "But you'll get used to it!"
"Well, I guess Remus will be late," decided Jerome an hour later when they had finished tea. "Why don't we get dressed and drive to the village? He'll follow."
Serene put away the dishes and cast a quick cleaning spell over the table and counters. Household magic was not really her field, but as long as she didn't have to cook, it would do. The cold ache in her heart got stronger as she had to admit that her sudden fascination with household chores was only playing for time. But Remus had not come back, and even washing all the cups by hand would not change that …
A soft scraping noise at the backdoor made her turn. The open door let in a gust of cold air. Remus stood on the kitchen porch, his grey-streaked hair flecked with snow.
For a moment time froze. Serene was caught between two heartbeats, and her senses took in every random detail. Tiny icicles melting on the tips of Remus' long lashes ... The carefully mended hood of his cloak … The light in his warm brown eyes …
"Hey, Sally."
His voice was a low caress, and broke the spell.
"You … came back ..." Serene shook her head, dodged him and ran out of the kitchen.
„Serene! Damn it! What's wrong?"
Remus sighed in confusion before he followed her into the yard.
It snowed again, and the apple trees in the orchard looked as if they were in full bloom at the height of winter. Serene stood in the snow, and from her trembling shoulders Remus could see she was close to tears.
"Why don't you trust me?" he repeated softly.
When she did not answer, he gently took her shoulder and made her turn to him. His eyes narrowed when he saw her face. "It hurts me when you do not trust me."
Serene blinked back the tears. Then she took a painful shuddering breath. He had a right to know. But that did not make it easier …
"My parents…" she started awkwardly.
Remus waited patiently.
"I lied. They are not dead." The tears proved stronger than her will to keep a little bit of self-respect.
Remus frowned. "But why …"
"They did not come back." Serene stared up at the snow covered branches, and the familiar pain of the abandoned child rushed over her like a cold wave. "They promised they'd come. But they couldn't cope with me … being a freak." Hard sobs shook her. "They left me in this clinic and never came to get me."
"Oh Serene," Remus whispered and drew her in his arms. He let her bury her face in the crook of his neck, and stroked her back soothingly. "I am so sorry, ma coeur. No matter what happens, I'll always come for you. I promise. You must believe me." Her weeping became only louder, and Remus got seriously worried. "Please stop crying, love. I can't take it."
He held her for a long time, until the weeping slowly ceased.
"I know you do not believe in the bond between us," he pleaded softly. "But I need you to understand that I'll always love you. Nothing you do or say will change that. And if you don't love me, could you at least try to trust me?"
She nodded wordlessly, still hiding her face against his shoulder.
Kissing her wet eyelids and her trembling lips, he whispered into her ear. "My family will think I got you a magical toaster for Christmas when they hear you cry like this."
Serene smiled shakily and wiped away the tears with the back of her hand. "I don't even have a present for you," she sniffed. "I didn't have time …"
Remus shrugged smilingly, secretly relieved that she'd overcome the bout of desperation. How anybody could abandon a young girl was beyond his comprehension. How old had she been when she was admitted to the mental hospital to "cure" her from her magical gifts? Twelve, thirteen? Remus remembered well his own gratefulness that one of his parents had always been with him during the worst phases of his own condition.
"I don't have a present either," he smirked. "But I'd say a kiss would do. In my case at least."
"You once got me a silver bracelet," Serene said. Her voice was hoarse from crying.
Remus winced softly at the memory of the silver burning his skin.
She took his hand and kissed the open palm. "I did not think," she whispered. "I am sorry."
He shook his head. "I wanted you to have it. It looks so pretty on you."
Serene pressed his hand against her breast so he could feel her heartbeat. "No more silver," she whispered. "Only kisses."
"I am afraid we'll have to postpone the exchange of presents," Remus sighed, when he saw Julia wave from the kitchen. "The Lupin family want to go to the feast, and they are not a force to mess with." He looked at her. Her eyes were red rimmed but beautiful as always. "Or would you rather not go?"
"And miss my first Yule feast?" Serene shook her head and the red curls flew wildly. "When I have a chance to dance with the most eligible bachelor of Littlejohn?"
Remus snorted. "Don't flatter yourself, Miss Kennedy. I may be the only bachelor between sixteen and sixty in Littlejohn. But I am also poor as dirt, a teacher, and a werewolf. That does not make me so eligible after all …"
Serene brushed a quick kiss onto his nose. "Good enough for me."
Holding his hand, she drew him back to the house, where Julia waited at the open kitchen door.
"We are ready when you are." The blond witch beamed at her brother. "Hey, Rem, I see you haven't lost your magical touch with witchfolk. Serene only has to see you and she runs off crying!"
Remus laughed and tousled his sister's hair. "Who are you to talk, Miss-I- haven't-dated-a-decent-wizard-in years?"
Julia chuckled, nudged him in the ribs and pushed both Remus and Serene into the kitchen, where the rest of the family waited for them.
In front of the house waited a huge sleigh with Falada already reigned in, and to Serene's delight the big horse wore a collar with hundreds of tiny bells. Jerome mounted Falada, while Abby oversaw the loading of her children, sons-in-laws, grandchildren and guests. When finally everyone had found a more or less comfortable place, Jerome turned to Serene and gave her a big grin.
"How do they say in the Muggle world, ma chere?" He grabbed Falada's long mane and laughed. "Ho Ho Ho?"
And all the bells jingled and the sleigh dashed towards the village of Littlejohn.
* * *
In his study in Hogwarts Albus Dumbledore sat by his desk, reading Serene's letter. Behind his back the former Headmasters in the paintings turned their backs to him. They refused to talk to him, only Frodric the Childish stuck out his tongue at him once in a while.
Dumbledore didn't dare to think about how his living colleagues would react when he announced his decision, let alone the students.
"Maybe I'll wait a few more months," he mused. "Maybe there is another solution."
Next to the chair by the fireside socks in different colors and materials piled. The Headmaster smiled sadly. It took a while to plant a thought into the mind of people. For decades he'd been talking about warm woolen socks - and had never gotten any. Only this year twenty of his friends seemed to have had the same idea … Well, a wizard could never have enough socks, could he?
Besides that it was quite probable he would not get any presents next year at all.
Sighing he searched for quill and parchment, and began to pen an answer to Serene. Laeticia de Malheur? Well, that name did indeed mean something to him …
* * *
On the way back from the feast Serene sat very close to Remus. The sleigh was over full with sleeping children, singing adults and various items they had collected at the pageants. Abby had won a living turkey for the best pumpkin pie, and the miserable looking bird sat next to her feet in the sleigh. Julia balanced her lute and little Noelle on her lap, and Jerome let his grandson Max ride with him on Falada, in case the boy got sick once more from a vicious combination of too much cotton candy, roasted chestnuts and butterbeer.
Finally Remus rose and pulled one of the big horse's reigns. "Papa, Serene and I shall walk!"
The sleigh stopped, and Louis helped Serene to climb over legs and blankets. She jumped off the sleigh and stood in knee deep snow.
"Remus!" she protested. "You can't be serious!"
But while she still wailed about the snow getting into her boots, the sleigh took off with a last cheery wave from the Lupins.
Remus grinned at her. "Alone at last!" he sighed theatrically. "You were quite a success at the feast, ma coeur."
Serene threw her braid back. "They only tried to be polite. Once they learned that I can neither bake like your mum, nor sing like Julia, nor conjure fireworks like Peregrine, they took pity on me and …"
"And passed you around for twelve dances in a row. I see." He gave her a wink. "No wonder I have to turn to desperate means to be alone with you."
She stomped her feet. "I appreciate the romantic gesture, Remus, but it is a long walk back to your house. A very long walk!"
It had started to snow again, but the light from Remus' wand was bright enough to show that they stood on the narrow way the sleigh had taken, with high dark trees on both sides.
"I know a short cut," suggested Remus. "I want you to see the Forrest by night. There are tiny ice fairies that come out only around the winter solstice. You can see them dancing on the ice of the pond next to the big oak."
"The big oak?" Serene groaned. "Remy, that's miles away! And it is that tourist place, isn't it? I bet they have carol singers there, all dressed up as Robin's merry men!"
Remus laughed heartily. "I bet they do." He grew serious again. "But I mean the real big oak, Robin Hood's oak. Not the one the Muggles see." He wrapped her cloak tighter around her shoulders and carefully slid the hood over her head in a gesture that Serene found strangely touching. "The Department of Magical History has long ago guarded the real oak with a Muggle repellent. You know how careless they can be, especially when they come by …," he searched for the correct expression, "… buzzers?"
"Busses," Serene corrected smilingly. "I'd very much like to see the real oak, Remus. But the snow is so high, I doubt we'll get further than a few meters."
"So Papa did not show you how we deal with snow at Sherwood?"
She shrugged. "He just told me to step into his tracks. But the snow was only ankle-deep then, and now it reaches my knees!"
Remus dug in his cloak and produced a paperbag with hot chestnuts. He took one, held it up, whistled softly and threw it into the deep snow in the woods. Suddenly the pristine white snow cover trembled, and before Serene's unbelieving eyes a trench opened and led through the snow.
Remus smirked. "Polar Nifflers. Papa saved them when some zoo in Glasgow went bankrupt. They are crazy about hot things."
So they made their way through the silent woods. Every once in awhile Remus threw a chestnut ahead, and sometimes Serene got a glimpse of the wiggling white bottom of a Polar Niffler, digging fervently for another hot delicacy.
At Robin's oak they found a veritable ballet of tiny tinkling fairies. Remus held Serene back when she tried to touch one of the little creatures.
"They bite," he warned. "They can be pretty spiteful, don't let their beauty fool you. Muggles call it frostbite, but fairybite would be more appropriate."
Still, the dance was one of the most enchanting scenes Serene had ever witnessed. They stood in the shelter of the huge oak, listened to the tree singing an ancient song about the winters it had seen, and then walked back to the cottage hand in hand.
Abby had left the back door open for them and they sneaked up the stairs giggling like children. A flickering candle in a wind glass lightened the hallway.
Remus slowly pushed back Serene's hood. His hands cupped her cold face, and she could barely breathe for the happiness that welled up when she looked into his eyes.
"Can I come in to collect my Christmas present?" he whispered.
Serene's lips brushed the corner of his mouth. "You'll have to unwrap it first," she teased gently.
He smirked, pulled open the fastening of her cloak and carried her to her bed in the guest room. "I guess I can manage that. I am very dexterous …"
* * *
'Severus, my love,
I never thought I'd dread to talk to you one day. After all we promised each other to never let misunderstanding come between us again. But now I am so afraid of what you are going to say, that I thought I'd better write you a letter to …'
When Laurel woke up with a start, she was still clutching the parchment in her hand. At some time after midnight she'd decided that writing a letter to Severus would be an act of cowardice. She'd talk to him as soon as he returned to their quarters. She'd settled into the deep chair by the fire, but somehow she'd fallen asleep … The bedroom door stood ajar and even in the dim light she could see that the big four poster bed was untouched. Frowning she crumbled the letter into a small ball and threw it into the embers.
Now, this was simply ridiculous! How had they ever got caught in a situation like this? She in the living room, Severus just across the corridor in the Potions lab - and yet miles apart? When had they stopped talking to each other?
Determinedly she rose from the chair and carefully opened the door to the nursery to check on Jonah. The little boy slept like an angel, long lashes throwing trembling shadows onto his rosy cheeks with every breath. She pulled the blanket up to his chin and gently stroked the down-like hair away from his forehead.
Then, leaving the door open, she straightened her shoulders and went across the corridor.
Severus stood by the work-bench, frowning in concentration as he spooned a fine powder onto minuscule silver scales. On the fire a cauldron simmered. Heavy scents lay in the air, sharp cinnamon, sweet vanilla, and something else Laurel could not define.
Nervously she cleared her throat.
The Potions master looked up, frowned and raised his hand to ask wordlessly for another moment. When he had finished weighing the exact amount of ground pearl, he stirred the powder into the steaming brew in the cauldron. Then he put his wand down and faced the woman he loved.
"Laurel …"
"I waited for you," she said simply, and from the way she bit her lip he knew that she only appeared calm on the outside.
"I left a note I had to work all night," he said. "On your pillow."
"Oh." She shook her head tiredly. "I didn't go to bed."
They looked at each other, both at a loss for words.
Laurel was the first to speak, but when she did, her voice trembled dangerously. "Did I do anything wrong, Severus?"
His head jerked up in surprise. "No. No, of course not."
"Do you regret that we adopted Jonah?"
He drew in a deep breath and shook his head.
Frustration welled up in Laurel. "Then what is it? Why do you avoid me? Why do you treat Jonah like some dangerous creature? He adores you, Severus! And you push him away every time he gets close to you!"
All the blood drained from his face. Laurel's throat ached with the comforting loving words she held back to wait for his answer.
"I am sorry."
His voice betrayed no emotions, and she felt how her heartbeat accelerated with growing anger. No way she'd allow him to retreat into cold politeness.
"You are sorry? About what?" she hissed. "About letting me sleep alone for weeks? About saving Jonah's life?"
Severus stepped further back and brought the work bench between them as a safety zone. Why did she make it even harder for him than it was anyway?
"I am sorry about my inability to deal with the situation," he explained awkwardly.
"The situation?" Laurel's eyes narrowed. "What situation?"
He turned away and stared into the fire. The potion in the cauldron simmered and fumed and was probably already spoiled, but he could not care less.
"I will always be thankful I had the chance to save Jonah," he said so softly Laurel could hardly hear it.
"Then what is it, Severus?" The stubborn tinge in her voice made it clear she would not let him get away without an explanation. "Is it because he is not your biological son?"
She saw his back stiffen. "I told you a long time ago that I don't believe in blood."
"Then what is it?"
"You love Jonah. I knew that would happen once we had a child," he said. The fire flickered and made the shadows move like dark dancers. Severus gripped the edge of the work bench so hard it almost cracked. "He is so … vulnerable, and he needs all the love he can get. I know that best of all. You'd never leave your child, and you'll always love him. I wouldn't have it any other way." He turned and faced her, his expression still hard and uncompromising. "When I said I was sorry, I meant I am sorry that it is so hard for me to …"
Laurel stepped around the work bench and reached for his arm. He flinched and raised a hand to hold her back while he spoke.
"Two years ago I lived without love, and I did not even miss it. I never noticed how cold the world was. Then you came, and you wrapped me in a blanket. And now, that I have to go without it again, I am freezing. But I'll get by. It just takes time."
"Severus?" Laurel frowned, and this time she would not let him retreat any further. "Are you by any means thinking that I don't love you anymore?"
He avoided her shocked gaze. "It is alright. I only ask you for a little patience until I adapt."
"No!" she exclaimed. "Damn it, Severus, you are one of the most intelligent wizards I know and still you can be so heart-wrenchingly stupid at times!"
His mouth set in a hard line, and his black eyes bore into hers.
Laurel touched his cheek with utmost tenderness. "Severus," she whispered, "love is not a limited resource. You need not give up your share for Jonah's sake. And do you really think I'd take my love away just because we have a child now?"
A tremor went through his body and he relaxed gradually.
Feverishly she went on: "It is the other way around. Love grows with every moment. And it is not just my love you can be assured of. Jonah adores you, Severus. Just look at his face when you enter the room. For him you are a hero who can do no wrong. The wizard who can make brooms fly and fires light up with a mere flick of his wand."
"But I don't know what to do with him! I might hurt him." Severus sighed. "And I … I don't want him to fear me like I feared my father."
"You just said you didn't believe in blood. There is nothing of your father in you, my love. Nothing."
"Jonah is so small, and I never had much contact with babies, as you can imagine."
She smiled at his obvious embarrassment. "Just follow your heart, Severus. You'll do the right thing."
"I would understand if you …," he started, only to have Laurel close his mouth with her hand.
"But I would not! Am I right when I think you avoided my bed to …"
"To learn to exist without you once more." He closed his eyes. "It was much harder than resisting Voldemort's summoning, believe me."
He smiled shakily, and suddenly the tension between them shifted dramatically without lessening a little bit.
Laurel's breath grew ragged when she touched his chest with both hands. "But now, that we have cleared this … do I have to summon you?"
He kissed her, almost frantic. It was quite unexpected and lasted for a wonderful, never ending moment. Then he picked her up and when he spoke, his voice was only a low growl. "The work bench or the bed room?"
Laurel gasped when he kissed her again, and almost cried with relief that she had him back. "Lets start where we are and work our way to the bedroom step by step."
* * *
At first Serene refused to let the soft knocking at the window disturb her sleep, but when it did not stop, she hesitantly opened her eyes. It was still dark outside, and even with dawn rising late so close to the winter solstice, it could only be five or six.
She mumbled a spell to light her wand, and saw that the early caller was an owl, perching at the window sill. Jumping out of bed, she let the exhausted bird in, and while the messenger warmed up next to the fireplace, Serene slipped back under her quilt and opened the sealed parchment, only to have another smaller letter fall in her lap.
The big letter came from Claire, and was the expected heartwarming mixture of admonition, sound advise and kindness.
Serene could only assume that their letters had crossed. But the chances for getting a real Christmas tree with all the trimmings were good …
With a big smile on her face Serene finished Claire's letter - only to feel all joy seep out of her while she slowly comprehended the last sentences. With trembling fingers she opened the second scroll.
* * *
Laurel was not even awake when she heard the distant wailing. Drowsily she scrambled out of bed. While her bare feet searched for slippers, she bowed to the other side of the bed and kissed the sleeping wizard with an indulgent smile. How young he looked when he slept, how uuntouched by evil and by the hardships of life …
The wailing came from the nursery, and while Jonah had been very good all night long - as if he'd known that his parents were in sore need of a few undisturbed hours - he seemed to get into his bad dream phase now.
Laurel knew that sometimes he only moaned and whined a little and then slept on quietly. So she tiptoed to the nursery to watch Jonah toss and turn. In case he woke up screaming, she'd be close by to comfort him. Just when she considered waking him up before it got really bad, she heard another sound, a soft knocking at the door.
She glanced at the clock. It was barely seven, and this being Christmas Morning everybody in Hogwarts should still be asleep. When she opened the door, she found Dobby beaming up at her, proudly presenting a parchment scroll and a small parcel, wrapped in colorful paper.
"I is getting mail!" Dobby piped with a tinge of excitement in his voice.
"That's great, Dobby." Laurel suppressed a big yawn. She had not slept much last night, she remembered, and the yawn quickly turned into a rather smug smile. "Do you want me to read it to you?"
"No!" The elf frowned, a facial expression elves managed only in times of great confusion or serious dismay. "Dobby knows to read. Dobby learns it all in Miss Claire's school. Dobby even writes his name, he can!"
Laurel smiled apologetically. "I am sorry, Dobby. I forgot!"
Most of the Hogwarts elves could read and write quite well, since they were surrounded by books and learning all the time. Headmaster Dumbledore encouraged them to sit in at the lectures when they had time off - a fact the elves would never admit, since leisure was something no decent elf ever had … Anyway - Dobby, who had not grown up in Hogwarts but in the Malfoy household, apparently had learned enough in Claire Winterstorm's elf-school to read a letter.
"So, is it a Christmas card?" Standing in the drafty corridor in the early morning did not further Laurel's patience. "Did Harry send you a Christmas card?"
Dobby shook his head fervently. "Harry Potter give Dobby a card in person! The letter, it come from Miss Serene."
Laurel's eyes widened in surprise. "Serene? You got a letter from Serene? What does she write?"
"She tell Dobby Merry Christmas," beamed the elf and flapped his ears. "And she puts other letter in Dobby's."
He handed her a somewhat crumpled parchment and the present, bobbed his head and disappeared around the corner, still waving his letter. Trembling with curiosity, Laurel unfolded the parchment and skimmed Serene's letter. Remus had assured her that her friend was well if a bit exhausted, but only now that she read it in Serene's own words, she felt at ease. Within a few hours Laurel's mood had lifted considerably. The fears her heart had harbored for so long, had vanished - through nothing more than a few words. Severus still loved her … and her friend was safe. She could only hope that Serene had a Christmas at least half as beautiful as her own.
Laurel folded the letter and shook the wrapped box curiously. This had to be Serene's present for Jonah …
She froze, suddenly petrified when she became aware of … nothing.
Silence.
There was no sound - and shouldn't there be her little boy weeping desperately? She had left him only minutes ago, and he had sobbed in his sleep even then. By now he should be crying. But there was nothing, and when she ran back to the nursery, she found only an empty crib.
For a moment she could not breathe, not move, not think. Then cold panic almost suffocated her.
Somebody had taken Jonah. Somebody had managed to break all the magical barriers around Hogwarts, and had abducted the boy to deliver him to Voldemort. It took all her strength to not hyperventilate at the thought what would happen to her child once Peter Pettigrew laid hand on him.
Severus! She had to wake Severus! He'd know what to do, how to find Jonah …
She stormed into the bedroom, shaking with anxiety, only to stop as if she'd ran into an invisible wall. It took a few heartbeats until she comprehended the scene.
Severus lay sprawled over the bed, Jonah safely tucked into the crook of his arm. The little boy's tiny hand clutching the wizard's long dark hair.
When Laurel stepped closer, Severus instinctively drew the boy closer. Jonah drooled onto his father's chest, and Laurel had to fight back the tears. Then she shook her head. Was there anybody in the world with less reason to cry than she?
Slowly and ever so gently she lifted the duvet a little to slip into bed on the other side of Jonah. Severus, feeling her presence even in his sleep, sighed and reached out for her.
"He cried," the Potions master mumbled. "Didn't know what to do with him."
Laurel blinked back another bout of tears and brushed a kiss onto his lips. "You did the right thing, I guess."
* * *
Last night's rain had turned into snowfall, and by the time the Lupins had breakfast in the kitchen, the snow lay like a thick duvet over the garden and the hedge that bordered onto the forest.
Serene tried to protest when Abby filled her plate with a stack of crispy pancakes, but then she remembered Remus' words and started eating.
"Remy never told me he had sisters," she said when Jerome passed her a big bowl of sweet café au lait.
"Remus was our first child," explained Abby and sat down next to her husband. "We always wanted lots of children. But then Rem go bitten …" Her voice shook a little. Jerome laid his hand over hers in comfort. "He was only five years old, and the doctors told us he had no chance to survive the infection."
"Abby would not accept that," said Jerome and Serene could hear the pride about his wife's determination in his words. "We consulted healers, sorcerers, even Muggle vets. For two years we lived day by day, always dreading the worst. But Remus was a brave little guy."
Abby took a sip of coffee and looked out into the falling snow. "The pain of transformation is so horrible that most bitten children die after a month, as soon as the first full moon triggers the …," she swallowed hard, "the wolf."
Serene winced when she remembered the numerous scars on Remus' body.
Jerome tapped lightly with his fork on her plate. "Eat!" he ordered. "Or Abby won't tell you anything."
While Serene chewed obediently, Abby described the various cures they had tried on Remus. "He screamed with fear," the older woman remembered. "He did not understand what was wrong with him. And once he had transformed into the wolf, we could hardly restrain him, even as the cub he was then."
"We lived on a farm near Toulouse," said Jerome. "The building was very old and had a deep Roman cellar. We cushioned the stone walls with straw, and that's where Remus went when the moon called him."
"In a cage …," Serene said softly.
Abby looked up, frowning. "A cage? We would never put our child into a cage!" she protested fiercely.
Serene blushed. "I … I once dreamed about Remus, a long time ago. He was in a cage then."
Jerome shook his head. "Not in our house. And certainly not in Hogwarts. Albus Dumbledore does not believe in cages, either."
She nodded slowly. "When did it get better? When did you know he'd survive?"
Remus' mother blew out a deep breath, as if she still felt the relief. "It got better over night. Like magic, really. When he was seven, he suddenly stopped crying all the time. He had a growth spurt, he put on some weight, he found his smile again. And he suddenly possessed a certain …," she cocked her head and looked at her husband for help.
Jerome nodded. "A quiet self-assurance. Even when the children in the French village would not play with him."
"The grammar school would not admit him when they found out he was a werewolf. The children threw stones at him." Abby shuddered, and impulsively Serene put a hand on her arm. "They shouted 'Loup garoux' after him … I can still hear them."
"Then the British MWF offered me the position in Sherwood," said Jerome. "We moved, and since the village of Littlejohn is too small to have its own school, Abby and I taught Remus."
"As soon as Remus got better," Abby smiled, "I got pregnant. As if the girls had waited until their brother was alright."
"So they are much younger than Remus." Serene nodded. "And of course he went to Hogwarts soon after you moved to Sherwood."
"Julia, our youngest, was born when Remus turned ten," confirmed Abby. "We had always planned to send Rem to Beauxbatons, since Jerome is French. But they would not admit a werewolf, and neither would any other school between Greece and Island. Hogwarts was the second institute we applied at, but they refused to admit our boy, too."
"But .."
Jerome chuckled. "But then we got a letter … when was that, Abby? A week before school started? Albus Dumbledore introduced himself as the new Headmaster, and his first task was to convince the school board to allow Remus to come to Hogwarts." He rose from his chair and smiled at Serene's empty plate. "Good girl! Now, enough of these old stories. Abby, do we have a decent pair of boots for Serene? We better get going and find us a Christmas tree."
* * *
Claire beamed at Harry and their guest.
"Well, Merry Christmas to all of us!"
She raised the cut glass goblet with pumpkin juice, and both Harry and Castor Black followed her example.
They were seated by a roaring fire in the southern salon, and waited for Coco to ring the bell to call them to lunch. As every year the elves had outdone themselves with preparations for a veritable feast, and the delicious scents that wavered through the Manor were tantalizing.
Still, Harry let his head hang low and had spent the last hour reading the same page of his Quidditch magazine over and over again.
Claire reached for his hand. "Harry? What's wrong?"
He pushed up his glasses and gave her a sheepish smile. "Nothing. It is only that I …"
She smiled encouragingly.
"You'll remember I wasn't very … pleased when you and Sirius got married," Harry frowned, and Claire gave his dark shock of hair a quick tousle.
"But then you were so…," he blushed a bit, "so friendly. And I thought we could be a family, although we are not related."
"But we are, Harry," Claire tried to comfort him. "We are family."
"I know. Only, I hoped I'd have a real Christmas this year."
"A real Christmas?" asked Castor.
"Well, like in the books, you know," Harry explained awkwardly. "Where the whole family is there, and you talk and eat together. Only …"
"Only Sirius is not with us," concluded Claire. Sometimes the Fidelius Charm, as necessary and life-saving it had proved to be, was nothing less than cruel, especially on Sirius' closest friends.
"I know I am only a bad replacement for my brother," Castor smiled. "Still, it was very friendly to invite me, Claire."
She shook her head. "You are family as well. We should meet more often. And Christmas is the right occasion to get to know each other. So - tell me all the family secrets." She winked at him. "You should have brought your … girlfriend."
Castor smirked. "Don't have any at the moment. The last one decided that she could not live with my many faults any longer."
"So you got faults? You can't be Sirius' brother then," Claire joked and rose clumsily. "The Blacks don't have any faults!"
He chuckled. "Well, this one does, apparently. Commitment-shy. Arrogant. Lazy."
"Should have stuck with that little musician you were so crazy about, then," said a dry voice from the door.
Harry shot up from his chair. "Sirius!"
"Merry Christmas, again, Harry," smiled Claire and watched with delight how the lanky boy hugged her husband.
Castor looked at his brother with a mixture of joy and alarm. "Siri! As much as I am pleased to see you …"
"I know. I should hide somewhere … bla bla bla." Sirius gave his younger brother a rough hug. "Can you forget you are an Auror until after lunch?"
Castor smirked and pointed at his blank collar. "I am off duty until the New Year."
When a fine chime announced that the elves allowed them to enter the dining room, Claire clapped her hands. "Lunch! I am starving!" She turned and pretended to straighten a painting at the wall. "Go ahead, I'll be with you in a second."
While Harry and Castor left, Sirius and Claire lingered in the salon for another moment.
"Why are you crying?" asked Sirius worriedly.
She shook her head and sniffed. "I am only being sentimental. This is not only the best Christmas Harry ever had, but also …"
"Merry Christmas then, Mrs. Black," Sirius whispered, when he buried his face in her hair and gently stroked the bump under her robes. "And to you, my little daughter."
* * *
In the late afternoon Abby suddenly stopped filling pie-forms with pumpkin and cream, and put the rolling-pin down.
"That's the girls!" she announced brightly and chuckled at Serene's surprised gaze. "No, I am not psychic. But I am a mother!"
And really - within minutes the living room and kitchen brimmed over with people, all hugging and kissing whoever they could get a hold of. Children complained about being ignored, men laughed, women fussed with each other's hair, while Serene stood in the kitchen door, suddenly feeling tongue-tied and shy.
Finally Jerome took mercy on her and grabbed her hand to draw her into the center of the group.
"Everybody - this is our guest, Serene. She is a friend of Remus' …," he chuckled softly and gave her a wink, "… a very dear friend."
Serene blushed. Jerome started to introduce the new-arrivals. "Our daughters Helena and Livia, and their husbands, Louis and Peregrine. Helena teaches Astrology at Beauxbatons, so you will have a lot to talk about. This …, "he pointed at a small boy, "is Alex, Livia's eldest son, and over there, sleeping in the chair, is Maxime."
Livia smiled apologetically. "The ride over the channel was a bit rough."
Jerome went on. "The little girls, all three of them, are Helena's. Delphine, Marguerite and Noelle."
The smallest girl, a spitting image of her grandmother, ventured to Serene and touched the sleeve of her robe. "I like your dress," she said with a slight French accent.
"So do I!" A blond witch entered the living-room, almost buckling under the burden of a cloak, a large lute case and various other pieces of luggage. She dropped the bags, but set the lute carefully onto the couch. "What a shame that you can't do anything about Rem's appalling dress sense!"
"This," laughed Jerome at Abby's delighted scream, "is our daughter Julia, the musician."
"Concert in London got postponed until the end of December," Julia explained, almost suffocated by her mother's kisses. "So I decided to join the family for Christmas."
While the female members of the Lupin family took the children upstairs to put them into bed for a nap, the wizards carried luggage into the house. Peregrine, a fair-haired fresh faced farmer from what Serene had been told, grinned at her.
"They can be quite overwhelming at times," he said. "But you'll get used to it!"
"Well, I guess Remus will be late," decided Jerome an hour later when they had finished tea. "Why don't we get dressed and drive to the village? He'll follow."
Serene put away the dishes and cast a quick cleaning spell over the table and counters. Household magic was not really her field, but as long as she didn't have to cook, it would do. The cold ache in her heart got stronger as she had to admit that her sudden fascination with household chores was only playing for time. But Remus had not come back, and even washing all the cups by hand would not change that …
A soft scraping noise at the backdoor made her turn. The open door let in a gust of cold air. Remus stood on the kitchen porch, his grey-streaked hair flecked with snow.
For a moment time froze. Serene was caught between two heartbeats, and her senses took in every random detail. Tiny icicles melting on the tips of Remus' long lashes ... The carefully mended hood of his cloak … The light in his warm brown eyes …
"Hey, Sally."
His voice was a low caress, and broke the spell.
"You … came back ..." Serene shook her head, dodged him and ran out of the kitchen.
„Serene! Damn it! What's wrong?"
Remus sighed in confusion before he followed her into the yard.
It snowed again, and the apple trees in the orchard looked as if they were in full bloom at the height of winter. Serene stood in the snow, and from her trembling shoulders Remus could see she was close to tears.
"Why don't you trust me?" he repeated softly.
When she did not answer, he gently took her shoulder and made her turn to him. His eyes narrowed when he saw her face. "It hurts me when you do not trust me."
Serene blinked back the tears. Then she took a painful shuddering breath. He had a right to know. But that did not make it easier …
"My parents…" she started awkwardly.
Remus waited patiently.
"I lied. They are not dead." The tears proved stronger than her will to keep a little bit of self-respect.
Remus frowned. "But why …"
"They did not come back." Serene stared up at the snow covered branches, and the familiar pain of the abandoned child rushed over her like a cold wave. "They promised they'd come. But they couldn't cope with me … being a freak." Hard sobs shook her. "They left me in this clinic and never came to get me."
"Oh Serene," Remus whispered and drew her in his arms. He let her bury her face in the crook of his neck, and stroked her back soothingly. "I am so sorry, ma coeur. No matter what happens, I'll always come for you. I promise. You must believe me." Her weeping became only louder, and Remus got seriously worried. "Please stop crying, love. I can't take it."
He held her for a long time, until the weeping slowly ceased.
"I know you do not believe in the bond between us," he pleaded softly. "But I need you to understand that I'll always love you. Nothing you do or say will change that. And if you don't love me, could you at least try to trust me?"
She nodded wordlessly, still hiding her face against his shoulder.
Kissing her wet eyelids and her trembling lips, he whispered into her ear. "My family will think I got you a magical toaster for Christmas when they hear you cry like this."
Serene smiled shakily and wiped away the tears with the back of her hand. "I don't even have a present for you," she sniffed. "I didn't have time …"
Remus shrugged smilingly, secretly relieved that she'd overcome the bout of desperation. How anybody could abandon a young girl was beyond his comprehension. How old had she been when she was admitted to the mental hospital to "cure" her from her magical gifts? Twelve, thirteen? Remus remembered well his own gratefulness that one of his parents had always been with him during the worst phases of his own condition.
"I don't have a present either," he smirked. "But I'd say a kiss would do. In my case at least."
"You once got me a silver bracelet," Serene said. Her voice was hoarse from crying.
Remus winced softly at the memory of the silver burning his skin.
She took his hand and kissed the open palm. "I did not think," she whispered. "I am sorry."
He shook his head. "I wanted you to have it. It looks so pretty on you."
Serene pressed his hand against her breast so he could feel her heartbeat. "No more silver," she whispered. "Only kisses."
"I am afraid we'll have to postpone the exchange of presents," Remus sighed, when he saw Julia wave from the kitchen. "The Lupin family want to go to the feast, and they are not a force to mess with." He looked at her. Her eyes were red rimmed but beautiful as always. "Or would you rather not go?"
"And miss my first Yule feast?" Serene shook her head and the red curls flew wildly. "When I have a chance to dance with the most eligible bachelor of Littlejohn?"
Remus snorted. "Don't flatter yourself, Miss Kennedy. I may be the only bachelor between sixteen and sixty in Littlejohn. But I am also poor as dirt, a teacher, and a werewolf. That does not make me so eligible after all …"
Serene brushed a quick kiss onto his nose. "Good enough for me."
Holding his hand, she drew him back to the house, where Julia waited at the open kitchen door.
"We are ready when you are." The blond witch beamed at her brother. "Hey, Rem, I see you haven't lost your magical touch with witchfolk. Serene only has to see you and she runs off crying!"
Remus laughed and tousled his sister's hair. "Who are you to talk, Miss-I- haven't-dated-a-decent-wizard-in years?"
Julia chuckled, nudged him in the ribs and pushed both Remus and Serene into the kitchen, where the rest of the family waited for them.
In front of the house waited a huge sleigh with Falada already reigned in, and to Serene's delight the big horse wore a collar with hundreds of tiny bells. Jerome mounted Falada, while Abby oversaw the loading of her children, sons-in-laws, grandchildren and guests. When finally everyone had found a more or less comfortable place, Jerome turned to Serene and gave her a big grin.
"How do they say in the Muggle world, ma chere?" He grabbed Falada's long mane and laughed. "Ho Ho Ho?"
And all the bells jingled and the sleigh dashed towards the village of Littlejohn.
* * *
In his study in Hogwarts Albus Dumbledore sat by his desk, reading Serene's letter. Behind his back the former Headmasters in the paintings turned their backs to him. They refused to talk to him, only Frodric the Childish stuck out his tongue at him once in a while.
Dumbledore didn't dare to think about how his living colleagues would react when he announced his decision, let alone the students.
"Maybe I'll wait a few more months," he mused. "Maybe there is another solution."
Next to the chair by the fireside socks in different colors and materials piled. The Headmaster smiled sadly. It took a while to plant a thought into the mind of people. For decades he'd been talking about warm woolen socks - and had never gotten any. Only this year twenty of his friends seemed to have had the same idea … Well, a wizard could never have enough socks, could he?
Besides that it was quite probable he would not get any presents next year at all.
Sighing he searched for quill and parchment, and began to pen an answer to Serene. Laeticia de Malheur? Well, that name did indeed mean something to him …
* * *
On the way back from the feast Serene sat very close to Remus. The sleigh was over full with sleeping children, singing adults and various items they had collected at the pageants. Abby had won a living turkey for the best pumpkin pie, and the miserable looking bird sat next to her feet in the sleigh. Julia balanced her lute and little Noelle on her lap, and Jerome let his grandson Max ride with him on Falada, in case the boy got sick once more from a vicious combination of too much cotton candy, roasted chestnuts and butterbeer.
Finally Remus rose and pulled one of the big horse's reigns. "Papa, Serene and I shall walk!"
The sleigh stopped, and Louis helped Serene to climb over legs and blankets. She jumped off the sleigh and stood in knee deep snow.
"Remus!" she protested. "You can't be serious!"
But while she still wailed about the snow getting into her boots, the sleigh took off with a last cheery wave from the Lupins.
Remus grinned at her. "Alone at last!" he sighed theatrically. "You were quite a success at the feast, ma coeur."
Serene threw her braid back. "They only tried to be polite. Once they learned that I can neither bake like your mum, nor sing like Julia, nor conjure fireworks like Peregrine, they took pity on me and …"
"And passed you around for twelve dances in a row. I see." He gave her a wink. "No wonder I have to turn to desperate means to be alone with you."
She stomped her feet. "I appreciate the romantic gesture, Remus, but it is a long walk back to your house. A very long walk!"
It had started to snow again, but the light from Remus' wand was bright enough to show that they stood on the narrow way the sleigh had taken, with high dark trees on both sides.
"I know a short cut," suggested Remus. "I want you to see the Forrest by night. There are tiny ice fairies that come out only around the winter solstice. You can see them dancing on the ice of the pond next to the big oak."
"The big oak?" Serene groaned. "Remy, that's miles away! And it is that tourist place, isn't it? I bet they have carol singers there, all dressed up as Robin's merry men!"
Remus laughed heartily. "I bet they do." He grew serious again. "But I mean the real big oak, Robin Hood's oak. Not the one the Muggles see." He wrapped her cloak tighter around her shoulders and carefully slid the hood over her head in a gesture that Serene found strangely touching. "The Department of Magical History has long ago guarded the real oak with a Muggle repellent. You know how careless they can be, especially when they come by …," he searched for the correct expression, "… buzzers?"
"Busses," Serene corrected smilingly. "I'd very much like to see the real oak, Remus. But the snow is so high, I doubt we'll get further than a few meters."
"So Papa did not show you how we deal with snow at Sherwood?"
She shrugged. "He just told me to step into his tracks. But the snow was only ankle-deep then, and now it reaches my knees!"
Remus dug in his cloak and produced a paperbag with hot chestnuts. He took one, held it up, whistled softly and threw it into the deep snow in the woods. Suddenly the pristine white snow cover trembled, and before Serene's unbelieving eyes a trench opened and led through the snow.
Remus smirked. "Polar Nifflers. Papa saved them when some zoo in Glasgow went bankrupt. They are crazy about hot things."
So they made their way through the silent woods. Every once in awhile Remus threw a chestnut ahead, and sometimes Serene got a glimpse of the wiggling white bottom of a Polar Niffler, digging fervently for another hot delicacy.
At Robin's oak they found a veritable ballet of tiny tinkling fairies. Remus held Serene back when she tried to touch one of the little creatures.
"They bite," he warned. "They can be pretty spiteful, don't let their beauty fool you. Muggles call it frostbite, but fairybite would be more appropriate."
Still, the dance was one of the most enchanting scenes Serene had ever witnessed. They stood in the shelter of the huge oak, listened to the tree singing an ancient song about the winters it had seen, and then walked back to the cottage hand in hand.
Abby had left the back door open for them and they sneaked up the stairs giggling like children. A flickering candle in a wind glass lightened the hallway.
Remus slowly pushed back Serene's hood. His hands cupped her cold face, and she could barely breathe for the happiness that welled up when she looked into his eyes.
"Can I come in to collect my Christmas present?" he whispered.
Serene's lips brushed the corner of his mouth. "You'll have to unwrap it first," she teased gently.
He smirked, pulled open the fastening of her cloak and carried her to her bed in the guest room. "I guess I can manage that. I am very dexterous …"
* * *