Disclaimer: All people and places belong to J. K. Rowling.

Life Had Just Begun

By Terra

Chapter Eight: But As Long As You Love Me So

It was like I had never left. It was the same as the Christmas after my seventh year. My father was still alive then. Voldemort was still a slightly gruesome joke. It had been six years since I had visited the Manor. Six wasted years that I'll never get back.

The Houses Elves had done an excellent job with the interior decorating. Fairy lights were all along the mantle piece and railings. The fire was blazing as it normally did on every winter night. A House Elf took my cloak and carried my boots away as I stood in the hall, staring at the decorations. Nothing was different, nothing had changed.

I entered the sitting room cautiously. My mother was not there to my surprise and disappointment. I had told her I was coming but I really didn't feel like chasing her around the house so I stayed there. There was a Christmas tree in the room. Every room in my house had a Christmas tree every year and every tree was decorated with a theme. This tree's theme was plaid. It was covered in plaid bows and glass balls. There were two long couches, a love seat and a chaise longue, all covered in hunter green plush. Along the walls were photos of family members grinning down at me. There was a collection of pictures of myself. I walked closer to them to examine my younger self.

The first one to my left was me as a baby. I was completely bald and stuffed into some sort of Christmas sleeper. I blinked bemusedly at my father who was showing me some toy by shaking it in front my face. Beside it was a picture of me as a toddler wearing some sort of Christmas outfit. I had hair in this picture and I was holding a toy broomstick labeled "Starter 100", an early brand of toy broomsticks. Again and again I pushed my large glasses up the bridge of my nose and turned the label towards the viewer to show what kind of broomstick I have. My younger self smiled weakly. I remembered that Christmas. I had been very sick for weeks. On Christmas day, I could barely get out of bed to open my gifts. My early years were full of sick days and being put to bed. I can clearly remember not having the strength to move and staring sadly out my window at birds flying the summer sun. It was a miserable time.

Next to that picture, I was with Lucius, about five years old. We were in dress robes and posed on the loveseat in the Parkinsons' home. My unhealthiness was clear when placed against Lucius' vigor. Lucius' face was full and his face clearly held color while my face was shadowed and my skin looked pasty. Lucius was smiling but his eyes showed his boredom; I was smiling only barely and my discomfort was clear. There was another picture of the same time with the other pure blood children. Again, my smile was weak and forced. There was a picture of a different time. Now, I was seven and my early fragility had almost faded. Here I was posed with Lucius and Narcissa, with her between us. Narcissa was simpering at the camera, Lucius was smirking, and my face was neutral with only a hint of smile. There was a photo of myself at eight, standing alone by a Christmas tree in the Malfoys' home. I was shuffling my feet and playing with the branches nervously.

I laughed when I saw my picture at sixteen. This was the only picture where I was grinning broadly. If the photographer had looked carefully, they would have noticed a slight bulge in my shirt pocket. That Christmas I had brought Peter along in his Animagus form. I had suspected for years that Lucius was afraid of rats so I decided to test my theory. I casually walked near to where Lucius and Narcissa were having an intimate conversation and placed Peter on the floor. Peter, as previously planned, scampered over and climbed on to Lucius' knee. Narcissa shrieked with terror and Lucius screamed like a little girl, trying to force Peter off his pant leg who had dug his tiny claws into his robe. I fell over from laughter. Of course, I was heavily scolded for bringing a rat into the house (I told them I found it outside) but it was worth it. Tears still come to Peter's eyes at the mention of it. I was slightly disheartened, however, at the lack of smiles on my faces. Before Hogwarts, I was very lonely and it was a shame that my pictures couldn't lie to me and make me believe otherwise.

"Well, we'll have plenty of smiling babies to photograph, won't we?" I thought aloud.

"Yes, I agree."

I turned around and saw my mother in the entrance to the room. She looked much better than last time. She was dressed in a plain red robe with her hair curled around her ears.

"Hello, Mother."

"Hello, James. Binky told me you were here in the sitting room. Looking at the pictures, were you?" I nodded. "You have grown into a man. Soon you'll have a child of your own to love."

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner." I could feel my throat choking up.

"Well, if you had come sooner, I wouldn't have been here. I was visiting Ariel earlier."

"That isn't what I meant."

"I know. There's nothing to be done about it now, is there?" Mother strode over to me and patted my shoulder.

Eager to change the subject, I said, "Anyway, I was just thinking about how I don't smile much in these pictures."

My mother looked at the pictures in question and nodded. "You're like me, hate getting your picture taken. You do smile in later pictures though. You looked so charming in your wedding robes."

"And my last day of school."

"Very grown-up. You looked very grown-up."

"Where are those pictures?"

"In another room, dear. Along with some others." My mother turned away from the wall and sat in the love seat. Roxer, another House Elf, darted out of my line of sight quickly after delivering a tea tray with biscuits. "Thank you," I called out as I sat down on one of the couches.

We drank tea in complete silence and the biscuits were soft and made no sound. It was very awkward. We Potters are not great conversationalists. Well, it would be more accurate to say we don't have a gift at starting conversations. We talk just fine but someone else has to make the first move. Back in the old days, one of my parents could ask about my tutoring or my days at Hogwarts, but those times were gone.

"Your father liked this tea very much," my mother said suddenly.

I jumped in surprise. "Really? What kind is it?"

"Store bought Earl Grey."

I chuckled. "I was expecting some secret tea blend."

"Oh, it's not that special. He just liked this particular brand."

"Oh."

Silence reigned again. I could feel Guilt bearing down on me. You should have come before, why were you such a stubborn...?

"James, how is Lily?"

"Oh, she's good. In the mornings she's sometimes a bit queasy but the doctor said that's natural."

"Ah, a bit of queasiness is very good. I was horribly ill every morning while I was carrying you. Frightened the daylights out of your father." She laughed slightly. "He used to think I ate the strangest things."

"Lily eats weird things too! She gets these weird cravings."

"Has she sucked coal?"

I nearly dropped my cup. "Coal?"

"For iron. I sucked coal occasionally. Your father used to think that was disgusting."

"It is disgusting. No, she hasn't done that. Yet." I laughed nervously at the thought. "I wouldn't be surprised though."

"You shouldn't worry. The baby knows what it wants. Nature has everything under control."

She sipped her tea and I ate a biscuit. Speaking of sweets, I asked, "Mother, did you make that Christmas pudding this year?"

My mother shook her head and placed her teacup down gently. "It was your father who made that pudding, not me."

"Oh, right, I forgot," I replied glumly. "I loved that pudding."

"I know you did."

"Do you still have the recipe?"

"Of course. Would you like it?"

I nodded. I sipped my tea as she poured herself another cup. During the Christmas season, I remember, House Elves prepared most of our food. However, some succulent dishes were made by my parents. My father only made the pudding. I glanced at the picture of myself with the toy broom. That was the first Christmas I can clearly remember.

"Mother, remember that Christmas, when I was three years old?" I asked, pointing at the picture, "We had that pudding that Father always made. Remember when he lit it on fire?"

Mother laughed at the memory, forcing her cup down on the table. "You screamed! You were petrified with terror!"

"I tried to blow it out!" I squealed.

"Your father just kept laughing and laughing. I thought that was terribly cruel of him but I have to admit, you were so cute, trying with all your breath to blow the flames out! You were so precious!"

"My tutor had explained fire safety a month before around Bonfire Night! But Father explained that the brandy was the only thing on fire and it burns away on its own."

"After that, you would jump up and down when we brought out the pudding."

In unison, we laughed, " 'Set it on fire!'"

"Thought we had created a little pyromaniac," my mother added. We chuckled over that for a minute.

"Mother, why did Father make the pudding anyway?"

My mother flushed with embarrassment. "Because I wasn't very good at making it."

"How so?" I sipped my tea.

"Our first year of marriage, I attempted that silly recipe. I don't know what I did, probably too much of one thing and not enough of another thing. It didn't turn out right. When we sat down to eat it, it was disgusting."

"That's awful, Mother."

"I'm not done. Well, your father remembered his Christmases as a boy and remembered that the pudding was lit on fire so perhaps that would help the taste."

"Did it?"

"I'll never know. In my eagerness to be a good wife, I jumped up to light this horrid pudding on fire with my wand."

"And you forgot the brandy."

"I didn't give your father the chance to remind me about the brandy. So, I lit the pudding on fire and nearly burned our dining room along with it." I burst out laughing. My mother tried to suppress a smile as she added, "Well, I'm glad that amused you so much."

"I just got this image of you two running around madly in a blazing dining room!"

"Not far off the mark. I accidentally hit your father's sleeve as well." I roared with laughter. "The House Elves were prompt though. Saved the dining room and your father, although our food and his robes were destroyed."

"Including the pudding?" I asked, composing myself.

"Burnt to a dry, hot lump."

I smirked. "You always seem so graceful. It's hard to imagine you two going into hysterics like that."

"We were young. We were done with mistakes when you came along so we simply appeared to be graceful from the start."

"And the truth comes out. So, Father made the pudding from then on."

"He liked the decor of the dining room to be free of scorch marks."

"Great, I'll be eating pudding and I'll keep giggling. Lily will think I'm mad."

"You can tell her the story. It's funny now but we were deadly embarrassed at the time."

"Speaking of charms gone haywire, remember the day Father charmed my hair to grow?"

Mother sighed and rolled her eyes. "Your father... I could've killed him that day. What was he thinking?"

"He did it during my sleep, didn't he?"

"I can still hear him now, 'I'm going to check on James for a minute, you just rest there a moment.' If I had known what he was planning, I would've stopped him."

"Better than being bald, I guess."

"Your hair would have grown! And if it hadn't, there were measures that could have been taken when you were older. You were only three years old. The very least he could have done was put his wand farther away to have a wider spread so it would look natural, instead of tufts like he did. He could have used some common sense in regards to his own child. I could have died when I saw you." She put her face on one hand. "There was nothing I could do. I couldn't cut it; it just grew back five minutes later the same as before. I could have simply killed your father then."

I ran my hand through my hair. "It's not that bad."

"Well, you grew into it, made it your own. But it was a nasty shock at the time." She tsked and shook her head. "Your father could do some very stupid things at times."

"I'll try not to do any stupid things with my kids." I sipped my tea. It was cold so I downed it painfully in one gulp and poured myself another. "Say, what was that story book Father used to read to me?"

"Travels of the Moon Skipper?"

"That's the one. Do you still have it?"

"Somewhere. I don't recall it being thrown away."

"May I have it?"

"Of course! Your father practically had that tale memorized from reading it so much."

"It must have been annoying to read it that many times."

"No, it made you happy. With you being sick so much, it was a pleasure to see you smile occasionally. He was always better at voices than I was. You always liked his voices. And Heaven forbid that he would skip a word or rephrase a sentence because you always corrected him. Nothing slips by you."

"I must have been very demanding."

"All children are in their own way. You'll find that you'll love them all the same, regardless of what needs they desire."

She sipped her tea and then jumped. "Oh! That reminds me! How is Remus, by the way?"

"Remus? Good. He's moving to..." My mind drew a blank. "To some Scandinavian country... I can't remember which. I can't remember right now. I think he leaves in late January."

"Is he excited?"

"Well, he's not jumping up and down with glee. He got a job offering there so he took it."

"In astronomy?"

"Astronomy?"

"Yes, I always thought he was good in astronomy."

"Remus was terribly in astronomy, Mother!" We gave each other perplexed looks. Finally, I asked, "Are we talking about the same person?"

"I'm talking about Remus whose parents were astronomers and whose aunt just died!"

"Mother! That's Sirius!"

I groaned in frustration. You'd think after fourteen years she'd be able to tell my friends apart! She always had this problem with Remus and Sirius. "Mother, Sirius Black, my friend. There's Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. Sirius Black was the one who had astronomers for parents and whose aunt has just died and did well in Astronomy. Remus Lupin is the one with the parents you like to talk to so much and did well in Defense. Sirius has black hair and blue eyes while Remus has brown hair and grey eyes."

"Oh, I always confuse those two, I'm sorry. Well, how is Sirius then?"

I sighed in exasperation. "Sirius is employed under my home. He's helping Lily out while I'm away at work."

"Why doesn't he just work as an astronomer?"

"I don't really know," I admitted. "I've never asked him."

"He should do something he's good at."

Well, I thought to myself, there aren't many openings that pertain to being an illegal Animagus. My mother didn't know about that so there was no need to share such idle notions. "Perhaps. For right now, he's working for me. Until the baby is born, that is, because then Lily can control her magic."

"Oh, dear. I forgot about a woman's magic during this time. It must be stressful for all of you."

I suppressed a groan as I told her, "I get by."

I filled her cup as my mother sighed and asked, "Does Peter still work at that music shop?"

"Yes, Mother, 'The Final Note'. He helps his mother teach some of her students though."

"Really? Your cousin was wondering about music lessons for her Eve. Perhaps I should recommend the Pettigrews to her." My mother sipped her tea and added in reflection, "Your father liked Peter. 'Such a friendly lad', he'd always say. He liked all your friends, now that I think about it. He enjoyed talking to Remus and his parents. He always remarked that Remus was very mature for his age, although always did look a bit worn-out at times. He thought Sirius was a particularly witty young boy, although half the time, we couldn't figure out what were meant to be jokes and what were meant to be serious. He always said you two made a good pair, you played off each other nicely like twins. He always jokingly asked if I had given birth to twins and donated one of them to the Black Family. But I must say, he sometimes led you a little away from the proper path."

I laughed, "Mother, it was all in fun. We were young."

"I know but you could have gotten in real trouble." She replied. "But, you always got right back on track. Your father and I knew that you were a good child and you just got swept up in Sirius' plans." She sipped her tea and then quickly corrected herself, "Not that Sirius was a dangerous boy. He was just a little unorthodox at times. But you were always our little angel." I told you people are naive. I sipped my tea as my mother remarked, "Well, at least you four didn't do anything illegal." I choked on my tea in distress.

"Wrong pipe," I croaked out.

"Be careful there, James. Yes, Sirius was a wild child. It's understandable, losing his parents at such a young age in such a manner. He just lacked a proper nurturing environment," my mother sighed sadly.

"I thought Clarissa did a fine job in raising Sirius!" I argued in defense.
"Well... she wouldn't have been my choice for a legal guardian but that's whom the Blacks wanted. Yes, I agree, she did her best but sometimes children have problems that even the best adults can't resolve."

"Clarissa was a good guardian for Sirius. I think the Blacks made a wise decision in selecting her."

My mother did not reply; she sipped her tea instead. She said finally, "Your father actually knew Mr. Black."

"Sirius' dad?"

"Yes. The Blacks sometimes went to the same gatherings as the Potters did. Roger, Sirius' father, was ten years younger than your father. Strange sort of boy he was, your father told me. He only met in adulthood a few times. Very moody, emotions changed at the drop of a hat. I vaguely remember Janet Tapp, Sirius' mother, in the paper when they married. Very pretty girl. Ten years under me as well. I remember her eyes the most. She had very striking blue eyes. Sirius has his mother's eyes. He resembles her greatly. Your father always remarked on Sirius got the best of them. Roger, at times, could be a very witty young man but Sirius was much wittier and he wasn't as moody. Of course, Sirius got her looks with some of his father mixed in of course. Yes, your father always did like Sirius."

"Were Mr. Black and Father friends?"

"No. I didn't mean to give that impression, sorry. He only knew him from afar. He didn't really like the Black family to tell the truth. He thought their conversation to be rather boring at times. He always liked a man to be knowledgeable. That's why we pushed for your studies so much. With intelligence, you can go anywhere. That's why he enjoyed Remus so much, there was a boy who could hold a proper enlightening conversation. Peter was such a nice and polite young man. I always liked him best. Always minded his manners. His mother must be very proud of him. Never met a more decent gentleman."

"I didn't realize you enjoyed having my friends over so much," I answered.

"Oh, your father loved entertaining your friends. We were so worried that you were becoming antisocial during your youth. We wanted you to be happy and make friends at Hogwarts. You made such delightful friends there. Your father always told me that they brought out the best in you. You four brought out the best in each other, I'd say."

Yeah, when we weren't breaking a thousand school rules and a couple Wizarding laws to boot, we were little angels. That's only because we had to sleep occasionally. "Well, we certainly helped each other out whenever we could."

"And they never distracted you from your studies."

I laughed. "Sometimes they helped me raise my scores." Yeah, like by convincing me to try being an Animagus. My Transfiguration scores shot through the roof after mastering that.

"And I'm sure you helped them raise theirs more often than not. Don't be so modest, James. You're naturally clever. After all, you always placed first in end of the year exams, became prefect and Head Boy. That is most impressive."

Silence again embraced the room. My mother simply stared at her tea as I nibbled on a biscuit. "Yes, most impressive. You far exceeded our expectations. I've never told anyone this but the mediwizards all told us that you weren't going to live a full life. They all said you'd have an assortment of crippling health problems if you managed to survive childhood. 'Don't expect too much because he'll fail,' they all said. I believed them. I saw you, barely alive in my arms. What else could I believe?

"Your father, on the other hand, out of sheer stubbornness refused to accept that explanation. 'Never let on that we doubt his survival,' he told me, 'Pretend that the mediwizards all agree that he has a full one hundred percent of recovery.' I thought he was crazy, clinging on to that false hope but I went along. We pretended that your health was temporary, a passing phase of childhood while everyone else began preparing for your funeral. The remarkable thing is your father never faltered, not once. He never had any doubt that positive thinking would help you pull through." She looked up at me and I could see her eyes shining in the firelight. Smiling, she whispered, "And you did. You really improved. This little sickly infant survived, cast off his weakness and became the best student in Hogwarts, when everyone had told me that there was no way you would ever walk into Hogwarts, much less raise to the status that you did."

"I had no idea..." I started.

"He knew all along that he was right in saying that you would live. We never predicted you would become prefect or Head Boy, he only said that you would live to see Hogwarts and do well. Just well, not fantastic. You were always one to jump three steps when we wanted you to walk one step. You always walked your own path, did your own way of doing things. We couldn't help but be proud of you even when we disagreed with your choices."

Without thinking, I rushed over to my mother and hugged her for a very long time. After so long, after my extended and cold absence, I was still their son and they were still my parents. It was a strange feeling. I was so old yet only a child, saddened yet strangely satisfied at the same time. I can't describe it to you, I don't quite understand it either.

After a long while, my mother placed a gentle hand on my shoulder and suggested that it was time for me to go home. Silently, I separated myself from her and got up from my knees.

"Don't worry about me, James," she said softly, "I'm visiting the rest of your father's family tomorrow." She paused and added, "If you and Lily would like to go, I'm sure that your aunt Ariel can feed two more."

I shrugged and answered, "I'm not sure."

"That's alright but if you change your mind, you're welcome there. Happy Christmas, James."

"Happy Christmas, Mother."

With a smile and sigh, I Apparated back to my house.

*** ***

When I found myself home, the radio was playing softly. The fire was crackling and only one lamp was turned on. On the table there was a cup. Taking a closer look, I saw remains of hot cocoa. Sitting on the window seat looking out the window was Sirius, nursing a cup of cocoa.

"Trying to spy to see if reindeer really know how to fly?" I asked.

Sirius smiled but didn't look at me directly. "You tell me."

"I've never tried it but I don't think it's possible. Besides," I corrected, "I'm not a reindeer. Reindeer are bigger and uglier."

"If you say so," he muttered as he took a gulp of his drink.

"Where's Lily?"

"Asleep. Just went up half an hour ago. How was your mum?"

"She's holding up well. She's going to see the other Potters tomorrow." Sirius grunted in response. I flopped down on the couch, listening to the radio. "Is this the classical station?"

"Yes."

"I didn't know you liked classical."

"I don't usually but..." Sirius paused, swirling the contents of his cup. He went on softly, "My Aunt Clarissa always did. I'm only listening to it because it was always on during this time of year and I remembered they play carols. I hate listening to people that can't sing try to sing carols so... yeah, that's why it's on."

"It's nice and unobtrusive," I commented. We sat there, listening to strings and woodwinds play another carol. "Which one is this?"

" 'We Three Kings of Orient Are', I think." Sirius smiled and added, "This was my mum's favorite carol."

"Really?"

"She liked the lyrics. I remember, when I was really little, she used to tell me that the song was about me. 'Star of wonder, star of night, star with royal beauty bright'. Never mind that I was born January 21st but I believed her."

"When did you figure it out that you were not the Son of God?"

"It came on in a store and I started shouting that my song was on. Then some old busybody told me what it was really about. Started crying right there in the store and my mum started ramming on the woman for being a killjoy."

"What was your father's?"

"I think he liked 'Oh Holy Night'. He could sing it in French too."

"And Clarissa's?"

" 'I Saw Three Ships'. But she liked them all really, to tell the truth. She always did like Christmas most of all."

"What's your favorite carol?" I asked.

"Hm... never really thought about it. I guess I like 'Little Drummer Boy'. Yours?"

"I always liked 'Let It Snow'."

Sirius humphed to himself, "Winter Circle's out tonight." He pointed out the window. "There's Orion with Betelgeuse and Rigel..." he slid his finger up a few centimeters and added, "And Taurus with Aldebaran..." Up a little farther his finger slid, as he added, "Auriga with Capella..." Moving to the left in a circle, he added, "Gemini with Castor and Pollux..." Moving down in the same circle, he said, "Canis Minor with Procyon..." Tapping the glass under the previous position, he concluded proudly, "And finally Canis Major with the brightest star in the sky, Sirius." I applauded. He smiled but said, "Damn, I used to know the names of the other stars, too. I'm losing my touch."

"Oh, you poor thing," I replied sarcastically, "this coming from Mister 'Oh no, I think I got one of the bonus questions wrong' here."

"You were just as bad."

"You knew the bonus which was stuff she didn't even cover!"

"Yeah, but you did that for every teeny weeny quiz. I just cared about those astronomy exams. Big difference."

"I'm not debating this with you," I grumbled.

"You just don't want to admit I'm right."

I rolled my eyes. "Are you done with that cocoa yet? You've been drinking it the entire time I've been here."

Sirius threw his head back, gulping down the dregs of his cocoa. "Yum, wet sugar and cocoa powder."

"Yuck. How old are we?" I grimaced as Sirius laughed. I turned off the radio as Sirius took the empty cups to the kitchen and dumped them in the sink.

"Come on, Father Christmas doesn't come to naughty children who stay up late," he joked.

"You'll be getting coal anyway, Sirius."

"Yeah, you're getting ciders."

We laughed as we raced each other upstairs. Sirius burst into his bedroom and poked his head out. "I win."

"Don't you need to brush your teeth?"

Sirius stepped out again and hissed, "I still win."

"Good night, Sirius. Happy Christmas."

"You too," he whispered back as he walked to the bathroom and I walked to my bedroom to get ready for bed.

*** ***

One by one, we all woke up on Christmas morning and journeyed downstairs. To our disappointment, we received two letters from Peter and Remus. Remus explained that his parents desperately wanted him home for Christmas since he was moving later but he promised to stop by on Boxing Day. Peter's letter was written by his mother actually, saying that Peter had caught a bug that had grown progressively worse and this morning he could barely get out of bed. Both had been gracious enough to deliver their presents.

"Well, I'm here!" Sirius said when Lily had read the letters aloud. "And I got presents for you all."

"We should send our presents to Remus and Peter. Especially Peter, poor thing," Lily said.

"Yeah, I saw him on the 22nd," Sirius replied, "he wasn't looking so well then. But, what can you do? If he's sick, he's sick and there's not much else we can do." We all sighed. It was kind of depressing with two of our invitees missing. Lily attached Peter's and Remus' gifts to our owl's leg. With great difficulty, our owl took flight into the barely pink sky.

We exchanged gifts after breakfast. Remus had sent me a red and gold scarf (my Hogwarts one was all ratty and thread bare), Sirius a new alarm clock, Lily a book titled A Muggle-Born Witch's Guide to Magical Children: All the Questions You Felt Too Stupid to Ask, and the baby a bear that we were supposed to record our voices on to.

Peter had sent me a Muzak (some new device that plays Wizarding discs.), Sirius a pair of blue waterproof gloves, Lily a tape titled Songs to Calm the Little Child Within You which had relaxing breathing exercises and soothing music (if it was played in the Muzak, Peter noted on a slip of paper, it showed projections of forests, waterfalls, etc. "It wouldn't hurt James to try this out himself"), and the baby of a book of lullabies.

Sirius gave me a book titled I'm Sure She Didn't Mean That: 100 Signs that Your Pregnant Wife May Be Just A Touch More Upset With You Than She Usually Is, Lily a baby name book that included meanings, famous people with the same name, numerology, and other such information, and the baby a box of floating glowing balls that, when touched (each ball had a different texture), played soft melodies. I don't know what exactly he gave Peter and Remus.

Lily gave me a Rembraball, Sirius a watch, Peter a tuning fork that would tune to any note desired (his collection was broken. Some angry and very strong student had bent the whole set in a fit of rage), and Remus a warm coat.

I gave Sirius a pocket planetarium, Remus a pocket metal scanner to avoid any embarrassment at his new job, Peter a Write-Note which wrote down the score to any song played to it, and Lily a blank photo album.

Oh, and I gave the baby a whole mince pie.

As we all contemplated trying out Peter's Muzak, a tawny owl swooped in and dropped a letter on Sirius' head sharply. Rubbing his head, he opened the sealed letter with one hand. Slowly, he smiled and said, "Seems I've been summoned."

"Summoned? By who?" I asked.

"Elliot's family. Lawrence just sent me a letter saying that he wants me to come over."

"Oh, go on," Lily said, waving her hand towards the door. "They obviously want you there. We won't miss you."

As I watched Sirius read over the letter again and debate with himself, I thought over my mother's invitation. I hadn't seen the rest of my family in ages. "Yeah, Sirius, go ahead. We'll just go over my family's place."

"Your family?" Lily asked.

"My aunt Ariel is hosting Christmas this year. My mother invited us along but I wasn't sure if you'd like to or not. Since we're no longer entertaining, it would be nice to go."

"About time," Lily said softly. Nodding, she answered, "Yes, we'll go to your aunt's place and Sirius can go visit the Turners. Are you still going, Sirius?"

"Well, as long as you two have somewhere to go, I'll go over there to visit," Sirius answered, getting up. "See you Boxing Day." He Disapparated.

"I'll call a taxi," Lily said.

"I'll call them on the fire to say we're coming," I answered.

*** ***

"Lily?"

Staring out the taxi window, she nodded as she answered, "Hm?"

"What's your favorite Christmas carol?"

After a short time, she answered, " 'Silver Bells'."

"Ah."

" 'Ere you are," the taxi-driver grunted as we pulled in front of the mansion. Lily paid him the fare and he replied gruffly, "Happy Christmas." Then his mouth dropped open in shock. "How'd that happen?" I smiled as I noticed that someone in the family had charmed snow on to the lawn. I knew for a fact that it had not snowed the night before or that morning. The driver shook his head, muttering, "What am I thinking? It's fake, the whole thing's fake snow."

Lily laughed as we waved at the taxi pulling away. Like a small child, she kicked up large mounds of snow as we tromped up to the doors.

For a minute, I paused. I saw the snow glittering in the December sun. I saw Lily giggling and dancing in the snow. I saw her still-flat stomach but knew the life that was inside her. I saw the wind rustle through the pine trees and through Lily's red hair.

I looked up into that cloudless, blue sky and sang, "The fire is slowly dying, and, my dear, we're still good-byeing, but as long you love me so, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow."

Just let it snow.

To be continued...

Author's Notes: I meant to be done by Christmas but here I am at 31st and just completing it. I wasn't originally going to have this chapter but I realized that I kind of left Mother Potter out in the cold so I thought of this chapter. Special thanks to a friend of mine who suggested the plaid-theme tree (after suggesting "Spam", "Treet", "Brie", and "Tormented Childhood"), my brother for helping come up with something for the Potters to discuss before the whole "your father loved you" thing, www.christmas-carols.net for listing the lyrics to a lot of carols so I could think of favorites for everyone, and Anjerla at Sugarquill.net for sites of star charts so Sirius could wow you with his brilliance. Let's see some reviews! Just hit the button or e-mail me at destinyplot@lycos.com! See you later!