Chapter Fifteen: Christmas Angel
On Christmas morning, Evangeline awoke to find Remus staring down at her much as Severus had often done in the past. When that stray thought scampered tauntingly through her mind, she squashed it firmly with a small pang of sorrow and smiled determinedly up at her new lover. "Good morning, Remus. Happy Christmas!"
"Happy Christmas, Angel." He murmured and bent to kiss her lovingly. Now that she was finally awake, and it had been very hard not to wake her himself, he wanted to show her just how wonderful a Christmas he wished her to have. The somewhat overeager werewolf rolled over onto his lover and pinned her warm body beneath his own as he ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her slowly and thoroughly. His questing fingers pulled free of her soft curls and began exploring gently down the expanse of her smooth skin as she began to respond agreeably to his greeting. Happily his warm lips began following his fingers in a very thorough examination of her desirable body. The morning was off to a great start.
Once they finally made it downstairs, Rooty had a wonderful breakfast waiting for them as usual. It was one of the house elves' greatest talents to always have everything ready whenever it was needed, even if "when" differed greatly from day to day.
After breakfast, they retreated to the Christmas tree in the sitting room as eager as small children to get to what lay underneath it. Beneath the tree's lush sparkling branches were two presents. A relatively small one with Evangeline's name on it, and a large one for Remus.
Remus looked at the presents in their colorful paper and said dryly. "Well, I guess someone loves me more."
She laughed in amusement. "Oh, I don't know about that. I've always heard that good things can come in small packages."
Remus smiled slyly. "I think people just say that to make those who only get small packages feel better."
She shoved him playfully, and they sat down together and pulled their respective presents from under the tree.
"You go first, Remus." Said Evangeline with a grin.
Quite willing to start off the festivities, the werewolf eagerly ripped the wrapping paper off his gift to find himself holding the painting that he'd watched Evangeline paint on the cliff top such a long time ago now. She'd animated it, and the sailboat glided serenely back and forth on the horizon as the sunshine glinted off the softly rolling swells. Looking down at it evoked happy memories of the day when he first began to really think that he had a chance of having a future with Evangeline. Yes, this painting was the perfect present; it represented the beginning of the most wonderful relationship he'd ever had in his life.
He raised his eyes to hers and smiled happily. "I've always wanted one of your paintings, and since I watched you work on this one, that makes it even more special. That was a marvelous day, and now I have the perfect reminder. I'll treasure this always. Thank you, Angel."
She smiled happily at him, glad that her offering found favor. "You're welcome, Remus. I'm so glad you like it. Whenever I looked at it, that painting always made me think of you, so I thought you should have it."
He nodded at her gift. "Now it's your turn, Angel. Open it and tell me what you think."
She turned her attention to the much smaller package she held in her hand. With an eager grin for Lupin, she tore off the paper and found herself holding a rectangular jewelry case. When she opened it and peeked inside, she found a delicate oval moonstone suspended from a sparkling gold chain. "Oh, Remus, it's lovely. Thank you."
"You're welcome. I've always been partial to moonstones, and the stone in that necklace seemed like a particularly lovely specimen. I can't wait to see it against your skin. May I?" He gestured for her to hand him the necklace. She did and then held her hair up off her neck as he clasped the necklace around her slim throat. She put up a hand to touch it, and they both admired it.
"It's beautiful. Thank you, Remus." Her eyes sparkled happily as she smiled up at him.
Setting the painting carefully aside, he leaned over and gently pulling her against him, he kissed her warmly. "You're very welcome," he murmured happily, as he deepened the kiss and brought up a hand to the fasteners of her gown. When she didn't seem to object to his actions, he guided her down to the rug under the glittering tree and began to unwrap the present he truly treasured.
Once he'd completed this welcome task, he found himself just caressing and kissing every inch of tender skin that he could touch in a gentle unhurried manner. She sighed contentedly and gazed into his warm eyes, which caressed her as lovingly as his passionate lips and his eager fingers.
Remus smiled happily and murmured between kisses, "The painting is wonderful, Angel, but the real gift is just being here with you. Being allowed the honor of holding you in my arms and making love to you. That makes this the most wonderful Christmas I've ever had. Even if we're somehow lucky enough to spend every Christmas together for the rest of our lives, I can't imagine that any of them will be as wonderful and magical as this one has been. Thank you for letting me into your life. It means so much to me."
His sincere words and the love that glowed from his eyes, was like a knife through her heart as she gazed back at him. She felt a wealth of guilt and shame wash over her as she mourned the fact that she couldn't bring herself to return his love in full measure as he so rightly deserved.
She reached up and caressed his face gently as her eyes sparkled in her distress. "Oh, Remus, you're such a wonderful man. I'm the lucky one here to have you give me so much. I don't deserve your love. You should be with someone who can truly appreciate it and return it fully and without reservations."
He leaned down and kissed her lips firmly to stop her protests. When he drew away, he said. "I told you to let me worry about what I deserved, and I meant it. I love you and only you. I have no illusions about our relationship and no regrets, Angel. Let's not worry about it any longer and simply enjoy being together, okay? You are enjoying being with me, aren't you?"
She nodded and smiled gently at him as he began once more to caress her softly and kiss her neck on his way down her body. "Oh yes. I'm very much enjoying being with you, Remus."
He smiled and lifted his head once more. "Then there's nothing else worth worrying about is there? Happy Christmas, Angel."
She slipped her arms tightly around his neck and pulled his face back to hers. "Happy Christmas, Remus."
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Steven looked out the window of Mrs. Trevalleyn's kitchen and sipped a cup of tepid tea. She'd left an hour of so ago still trying to persuade him to join her at her daughter's house for the day. He shuddered faintly at his narrow escape. Fortunately, he'd been successful in convincing her that he truly would prefer to remain here alone.
He'd rather be alone for the rest of his life than be forced to mix with a room full of talkative strangers. There wasn't a doubt in his mind about that. It would take something truly extraordinary to convince him to willingly go into such a situation. Somehow he felt that he'd always been this way, a rather solitary soul. Did that mean that he'd spent his life alone? A slightly depressing notion, and how did that idea square with all the visions he kept having of Angel? He'd decided that that must have been her name. If not, it would do for now, until he could remember what it really was…if he ever did. God he was getting melancholy…self-pity was hardly a becoming trait. He needed to get over this gloomy mood and find something more useful to occupy his thoughts with.
As he took another sip of his tea, he grimaced slightly at the cool temperature, he found himself wishing that he hadn't let it cool down so much before he drank it. Hot tea is much more comforting on a cold morning. Suddenly he could feel a surge of warmth in his hands as they held the cup. Steam began to rise from the liquid as he stared at it in astonishment. Cautiously he took a sip. The tea was hot! What the hell happened? Unnerved by this bizarre occurrence, he quickly poured the remains of the tea into the sink and set the teacup down on the counter with a clatter. He shook his head in bewilderment. What was happening to him…was he going mad? Trembling slightly he backed away from the cup in front of him. He had to have imagined it…that was it, all these strange thoughts and memory flashes were simply getting to him, and now he was imagining things. Time to find something else to focus on for awhile.
Determinedly, he turned away from the counter, and his eyes fell on the open package on the kitchen table. Mrs. Trevalleyn had insisted on giving him a Christmas gift before she left. He walked over and fingered the soft new shirt. It was a deep burgundy color, which she'd insisted would look lovely with his dark hair and eyes. It had been kind of her to give it to him, and goodness knows he needed clothes, but somehow he sensed that burgundy wasn't the right color for him. Though he had no idea why he should feel that way. With a shrug, he turned and walked out of the kitchen and into the sitting room next to it feeling rather at loose ends.
This was where Mrs. Trevalleyn spent most of her free time apparently. The pictures on the wall were all snapshots of her family, and the decorative touches around the room were more homey and personal, too. In one corner there was a bookcase next to a very comfortable looking and well-worn easy chair. The books it contained were of little interest to him, though, as he'd already discovered when he'd been in here once before. They were mostly romance novels. He snorted to himself. Perhaps that was where Mrs. Trevalleyn got her decidedly romantic notions about amnesia. Any number of these insipid novels might have a tragic hero or heroine wandering the wilderness not knowing who they were until the love of their life shows up and lifts the veil from their eyes. What a load of foolishness! A wry smile played with the corners of his lips. The very idea of himself as the hero of a romantic story was rather amusing, though. He'd looked at himself in a mirror, after all. The idea that he could play prince charming was laughable.
Still searching for occupation, he wandered over to his boss's desk in the far corner and glanced at her computer. This contraption was totally foreign to him. With most things he seemed to have an immediate, if detached, sense of familiarity, but this was completely alien. He'd watched Mrs. Trevalleyn using it and been thoroughly amazed at it. It seemed like magic. Yet she said they were very common. Everyone had one. Children used them to play games and find information. Adults obviously used them to access information, too. He frowned. Perhaps he could find something out about his past by using this one. Not that he had even the vaguest idea how he might go about it. He doubted that he could even manage to turn the darn thing on. What kind of person could he have been to never have used one of these devices himself? His life wasn't simply blank…it was a puzzle. Whatever the pieces were, they didn't seem to fit together in the same manner as everyone else's did.
With a frustrated sigh, he left the sitting room and wandered into the shop at the front of the little house. Once there he found himself contemplating the walls full of paintings. There were actually quite a few fairly good pieces of artwork here. None were as compelling as the two marvelous seascapes by E. W. S., though. He walked over to study them as they hung on the wall in their new frames. The colors were lovely and vivid. The paintings were full of restless motion, yet he felt calmer and more content when he stared at them.
Once more he brushed a delicate touch over her initials in the corner of the painting. Evelyn Severe. The name meant nothing; he was quite sure. Yet the paintings drew him in like iron filings to a magnet.
He began to feel ridiculous standing there staring at paintings as if they could talk to him. With a sigh, he realized that he needed to keep himself occupied, to stop dwelling on this foolishness. Idleness didn't sit well with him. He needed to be busy. So with a renewed sense of purpose he whirled around abruptly and stalked back down the little corridor into the house. There he opened the door that led down to the cellar. Mrs. Trevalleyn had said that she had a fairly new shipment of curios down there that she hadn't had a chance to unpack and check for damage. That job should keep him occupied for awhile, and if he was diligent, perhaps it would stop his mind from wandering down fruitless pathways in search of answers that simply didn't seem to be coming.
With determination in his footsteps, he flicked on the light switch and descended into the cellar, feeling quite at home in the lower depths of the house.
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Remus and Evangeline sat cozily together on the couch and talked to Minerva's head in the fireplace.
"Did you have a nice Christmas, Minerva? Thank you so much for the loan of Rooty. He's been a wonderful help. I'm a little sorry to see him go tomorrow." Evangeline smiled at her friend.
Minerva smiled back. "You're welcome, Evangeline, dear. If you want Rooty to stay for awhile longer simply ask him. There's really no rush to send him back you know. Thank you for the painting you sent to me. It's the loveliest Christmas present I've ever received. I usually get a lot of socks and scarves and such."
"You're welcome, Minerva. I'm so glad you liked it. Remus seemed to like the one I gave him, too." She turned and smiled at Remus, who slid his arm around her and gave her a little squeeze, leaving his arm draped possessively around her shoulders.
"I certainly did. It's beautiful, just like you." He exclaimed happily, dropping a quick kiss on her upturned cheek.
Evangeline blushed and turned back to Minerva. "We did rather miss having snow for Christmas. Do you have any there, Minerva?"
"Oh, my, yes. A couple of feet at least. It snowed lightly all day. The usual snowball fight was a big success. The Gryffindors had the largest force and carried the day easily. Sirius has quite an arm, as does Mr. Potter. I'm afraid the Slytherins, with the next largest team, couldn't keep up. They could've used your help, Evangeline."
Evangeline didn't want to be reminded about being a Slytherin, it brought up too many memories of Severus. "I'm not particularly good at making or throwing snowballs, Minerva. I wouldn't have really been much help to them." She said stiffly.
"Hmm. Well, I'm not sure you'd have wanted to partner Mr. Malfoy in any case."
Evangeline frowned. "Why is Draco Malfoy there for Christmas? I thought he'd be at home with his mother."
Minerva sighed. "With Lucius in prison, apparently Narcissa has decided to take advantage of the situation and has gone on an extended vacation…with a younger man, apparently. I'm afraid a teenage son wouldn't have helped her image any, so Draco was left with us."
Evangeline sighed. "Oh dear, I can almost feel sorry for him."
Remus snorted. "Well, he doesn't get any of my sympathy. That little beast was responsible for your almost ending up in Voldemort's hands. He did manage to get you captured by his father. I wish a lot more misery on him than simply having to spend his Christmas in an enchanted castle with house elves to wait on him."
Evangeline smiled. "Not exactly a fate worse than death, I suppose."
Remus smiled in return and turned back to Minerva. "Be sure and wish Sirius and Harry a Happy Christmas from us, Minerva. Tell Sirius that everything is wonderful here, but we miss him."
Minerva nodded. "I will. I'm glad you're having a nice visit together. I hope I'll have a chance to see you before long, Evangeline, dear. Take care now. I should get going. I'll call again soon."
Both Remus and Evangeline wished her a good night and Minerva's head vanished from the fireplace.
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Minerva McGonagall sat back in her chair and smiled to herself. It certainly looked as if things were working out for Remus and Evangeline. She couldn't remember when she'd seen Remus look so happy and relaxed, and Evangeline also looked much happier than any of the last few times that Minerva had talked to her. Maybe this time, Albus was wrong, and they would be happy together. She fervently hoped so. Both of them deserved a little happiness, something that had been in short supply in both of their lives for a long time.
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Steven stood at his window with a glass of whisky in his hand and watched the stars come out in the cold night sky. He raised his glass to the heavens and wished himself a Happy Christmas. Soon it would be a brand new year. He hoped it would be a better one than the one he'd just lived through. May he recover his memory and regain the life he'd lost.
Then he paused with the glass halfway to his lips and considered his horribly scarred body. On the other hand, why was he in such a hurry to remember what had no doubt been a very painful time? Perhaps he'd be better off to try to forget about his mysterious past and simply try to make a new future for himself as a new person. Maybe he should simply become Steven Frame instead of wondering who he'd been in the past. A new life for a new year. He took a thoughtful sip of his whisky. It was certainly worth considering, but could he ever be content if he didn't find out the truth about his past? Not to mention the danger of simply going on with his life without knowing who wanted to kill or hurt him so badly. No…that would be foolish, indeed, and whatever else he turned out to be, he had a feeling that he wasn't usually a foolish man.
Then there were those vivid images of her face that came to him unbidden every time he closed his eyes. Would he ever truly be happy if he never found out who Angel was and what she'd meant to him? He snorted softly to himself. Perhaps he'd be better off not knowing. For all he knew, she was some two-bit prostitute or his former boss's wife with whom he'd had some sordid affair. Just because she was beautiful, didn't mean she was good or loving or even his in any way. Why would a woman who looked the way she did want anything to do with someone like him anyway?
The likelihood that she was intimately involved with him in his former life seemed remote despite the vivid images that his mind conjured up with such regularity. Probably, she wasn't even real he thought sadly. That was far more likely, wasn't it? She was simply some sort of fantasy image conjured up by his tired mind while he was being abused in that horrid prison, some sort of comfort mechanism. He should simply forget about her and move forward with his new life.
He sighed. It all made excellent sense, but he didn't believe for a minute that he'd go along with it. No, he'd slowly go insane if he couldn't discover his true identity. Not knowing gnawed at his soul. There had to be a way. He took another sip of his whisky and thought back to the foreign contraption he'd been considering earlier. The computer might be the answer. Mrs. Trevalleyn had told him that it could access all sorts of information…including public records. Perhaps he could make use of it to try to look into his past. Birth records…death records…missing persons reports. Maybe something could give him a clue. He nodded his head. It was worth a try. He'd ask Mrs. Trevalleyn what she thought of the idea tomorrow perhaps she could help.
He shook his head. Oh, well, it was getting quite late; in actuality, Christmas had come and gone, and he was too tired to keep letting his thoughts run in circles in his brain any longer tonight. He swallowed the remaining whisky in one gulp, and replacing the empty glass on the dresser, he crossed the room to throw himself down on the bed to try to sleep. There was nothing he could do about any of it tonight; he'd just have to worry about the rest of his life tomorrow.
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Author's Note: Next Chapter…Answers.
Werecat99: They didn't strike me as the fake Christmas tree type. Sorry. Yes, a shock can indeed return one's memory.
Melissa Jooty: Remus isn't really reveling in Snape's death, but he is getting a little carried away with being with Evangeline. He's letting himself get a bit lost in the dream and is forgetting his promise not to push for more than she feels comfortable with. Yes, his days of bliss are numbered…on one hand with fingers left over.
Jezebel: Snape recovers his memory next chapter…it's a bit longer before he recovers his wife.
Elbereth94: Evangeline isn't having second thoughts exactly, she just went into the relationship with some definite parameters. She told Remus that she's not interested in getting re-married or in having any children, and although he heard her at the time, he's ignoring what his heart doesn't want to accept.
Manic: Thank you for the wonderful review. It's so nice to hear that I'm really getting my points across. It's so hard to be sure sometimes.
Persephone: Good to hear from you! I had wondered if you were still reading. Twisty and dramatic, huh? I like that…I sound like a fancy pretzel! :) You want Remus and Eleanor? You do realize that she's not too happy with him right now, since he dumped her to pursue her friend. Eleanor does pop her head in before the story is done, but I really have no plot line in mind that would work for the two of them. I can't write a story without an idea, and at the moment, I really don't have one. I wish I did. Sorry.
Snapefan51: I'm shocked! Do you really think that Remus Lupin…noble Gryffindor…would attempt to keep Severus and Evangeline apart? Well…I suppose he might, if given the chance. :) He'd have to know it wouldn't work in the long run, though…and he'd come to regret it big time.
Lina Lupin: You're giving me more credit than I deserve, I think, but they are getting close to coming face to face. I'm glad you noticed the unconscious use of magic. You're the only one to mention it so I wondered if perhaps I was a bit too subtle. I don't know what might happen if Steven got his hands on a wand. If it was a particularly compatible one, it would probably trigger something strong in him. That alone might bring back his memory.
Jtyw: Yes, Steven and Evangeline are very close geographically.