Chapter 14

Harry aimlessly wandered around the castle grounds, completely oblivious to the falling snow around him. He couldn't believe that Cho left him for Draco Malfoy. It was beyond insulting, the way that they hung all over each other on the dance floor. After about five dances of trying to keep his temper, he decided to get some fresh air. That was about two hours ago. He decided to walk to the lake shore to think, and when he got close to the water's edge, he saw a golden colored lump on the small beach. As he got closer, he realized that the lump was a person.

"Um, hello?" he said at the lump.

"Go away," the lump slurred.

"Ginny?"

"Wow, chalk one up for the famous Harry Potter," she said, lifting her head from the folds of her dress, taking a swing from a bottle. She tossed it aside, and Harry saw that she was collecting quite a collection of empty bottles.

"Ginny, what are you drinking?" he asked, concerned.

"Coke. I swiped it from the Muggle Studies lab."

"Yeah, well, I think you've had enough for one night. Let me take you back to the dorm, ok?"

"You know, you're not as clever as people make you out to be," she said. "Because if you were, you'd know that Coke is not alcoholic. And that I'm drinking it because it's one o'clock in the morning, and I'm trying to stay awake to think. Not everyone you meet needs rescuing, you know."

"Fair enough," he said, sitting down and staring out over the water.

"You know, it's kind of interesting how being famous doesn't stop you from being dumped. Kind of makes the rest of us mere mortals feel better."

"Glad to be of service," he said wryly. "Why are you here, anyway? Aren't you supposed to be with Neville?"

"Yes, but he left me about three hours ago to go snog Susan Bones. So, I've joined you in the ranks of the dumped and depressed."

"Welcome to the club," he said listlessly. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Why is it that I am completely incapable of any sort of relationship that lasts longer than, oh, three days?"

"Do you want a real answer to that?"

"No, I'm just talking because I like the sound of my voice."

"Well, it's mostly because of your family."

"What are you talking about?"

"Ok. You come from a rich, famous family that's a target for You-Know-Who. Girls think that's cool and everything at first, but who really wants to be with a guy that could get you killed?"

Harry considered that. "Good point."

"Not only that, but you aren't exactly the easiest guy to get to know. You, Ron and Hermione are more or less a self-contained unit. I've known you for what, four, five years, and this is the first real conversation I've ever had with you."

"You mean saving your life doesn't count?"

She rolled her eyes. "No. Besides, people change."

Yes, Harry thought, people do change. He looked over at Ginny, and realized that she had changed quite a bit over the years. For starters, she wasn't as shy as she used to be. Or as awkward looking.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked.

"Because, I just realized that I have known you for five years now, and I don't know much about you at all."

"Well, what do you want to know?"

"Since this is our first real conversation and everything, maybe we should start at the beginning. What's your name?"

"Guess."

"Well, it's Ginny with a G, so that rules out Jennifer, right?" he said thoughtfully.

"Right." She was shocked at Harry's behavior. Was he flirting with her?

"Hmmm...let me think, here." He sat quietly for a minute. "Ok, I give up."

"Promise you won't tell anyone?"

"Can't be that bad," he said reassuringly.

"It's Virginia," she said, wrinkling her nose.

"Virginia what?" he teased.

"Virginia Dare. Mum read the name in some history book she was reading when she was pregnant with me. The real Virginia Dare was a witch in colonial America who lived in some place called North Carolina. Horrid, huh?"

"No, I think it's kind of pretty."

"Liar," she laughed, throwing a snowball at him.

"Hey! Not fair!" He brushed the snow out of his hair, conjured up a snowball, and pelted her right in the nose. "So, Virginia, we have two options here. One, we can call a truce."

"Or, two, I can wipe that smirk off your face with this," she said, rubbing a fistful of snow into his face, knocking his glasses to the ground.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this, but I warned you." He covered her in a mound of snow before she had a chance to retaliate. "Ready to admit defeat?"

"Never," she replied, chasing him back to the castle, throwing snowballs the entire way. Both of them were completely out of breath by the time they reached Gryffindor Tower. They stood there for a minute at the portrait awkwardly.

"Well, I guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow, right?" Harry asked.

"Uh, yeah," she replied, retreating into the common room.

"See you then, Virginia," he called after her. She paused for a minute to turn around and tell him not to call her that, but stopped. For some reason, she didn't mind it so much when he called her by her full name.

-----

Sirius heard the front door slam, and quiet footsteps heading up the staircase. Everyone else was already home and asleep, so he figured that it was Harry.

"Hey, Crookshanks," he heard him say. "Merry Christmas, cat."

Considering what Cho had done to him at the dance, Harry was in remarkably good spirits. Sirius shrugged his shoulders, and leaned his head against the headboard of his bed, thinking. He looked over at the stack of letters. Part of him wanted to read them, but the rest of him didn't want to face the horrible events those letters recounted.

Just get it over with, he told himself. He reached for the stack of letters and his reading glasses. He didn't know whether it was because of his age or years of malnutrition at Azkaban, but his eyes were growing progressively weaker. Luckily, he didn't have to wear his glasses often, or in public. He could only imagine the teasing he'd get from Isabelle if she could see him. He opened the first letter, scanning it first, then rereading certain portions for clarity.


So, it's Christmas Eve. It doesn't feel much like Christmas, without any of you here. Oh, I miss all of you so much that I don't know how I make it through each day. Don't get me wrong – Severus is good to me, but, it's just not the same. Abilene, Texas, in America is a far cry from our home in Dover.

Can you believe that I'm in America? It seems like an odd dream, one that I hope to wake up from soon, run downstairs to tell you and Lily about, and laugh over during breakfast. But, every day I wake up, and I'm still here, alone. Well, I have Severus, and Stacey now. She keeps us going – she's so funny that she makes us forget our problems. And, we need that.

I know you're alone, too. I keep telling Severus that you're innocent, but he doesn't believe me. One day, someone will believe me. They just have to, and you'll get out of prison, and we'll be a family again. You'll take Harry away from Petunia, and Gracie from wherever she is, and we'll all be together. Maybe that's a stupid dream, idealistic and naive, but it's what keeps me going.

Merry Christmas, Sirius. Next year, we'll all be together, and I won't have to write this letter. Until then, Love, Isabelle

It was Isabelle at sixteen, just like he remembered her. So young and full of hope, and dreams, still believing that good always triumphs over evil. He sighed, and reached for the next card.


What a difference a year makes! Well, Sev, Stacey & I finished our marvelous trip across America this summer. I think that Sev & Stacey may have a love affair one day, but that's just me crossing my fingers...guess part of me still wants a family. Anyway, we dropped her off at NYU, and we went back to Williamsburg. She tried to talk Sev into staying in New York, which is what I wanted to do, because of my dancing, of course, but he wouldn't hear a word of it. Said that New York had too many painful memories for him, still. I don't blame him, of course, and dutifully followed him back to Williamsburg.

Well, I decided to go to the Muggle school, Jamestown High, and you wouldn't believe what happened. I met two other witches, who were both in my year! Their parents didn't want to send them to Spotswood, either, and had them privately tutored throughout school. Well, now Sev tutors all three of us. We're inseparable – people call us the Three Musketeers – me, Sarah Lindsay Parker, and Brittany Spence. Oh, the mischief we create around campus...

But, that's not the best part. They have older brothers! Sarah Lindsay has one brother, Jake, who's 18. And Brittany has two brothers, Thomas, who's 19, and Phillip, who's 21. Well, Sarah Lindsay's dating Thomas, and Brittany's dating Jake. And, I'm seeing Phillip, although Sev says that a college junior has no business with a high school junior. He's such a prude.

Sirius raised his eyebrow. He never thought that he'd agree with Snape on anything, but what business did a twenty-one year old man have with a seventeen-year-old girl? Shaking his head, he read on.


Jake, Thomas & Phillip are all at the local Muggle university, the College of William & Mary, mostly because they don't want to get jobs at the Office of Magical Affairs yet. My fellow Musketeers and I will probably join them when we graduate high school – oh, I can hardly wait!

I still miss you terribly, and can't wait until you can get out of prison. Merry Christmas, Sirius. Next year, we'll all be together, and I won't have to write this letter. Until then, Love, Isabelle

He smiled, putting down the letter, happy that it didn't take long for Isabelle to adjust to her new surroundings. But then again, he reminded himself, she has always been a survivor. He read through the next few letters, which were full of stories from her college years. The next letter that caught his attention was the Christmas after her twenty-second birthday.


Oh, Sirius, this is such a bittersweet Christmas. Sweet because I graduated college with honors, and got into the doctoral chemistry program at NYU. I'm finally in New York! The best part is that I'm allowed to do a lot of independent research, to accommodate my performance schedule.

It's bitter because this is my first Christmas without Phillip. He proposed to me after graduation, and I suppose I should've seen it coming. We had been together for five years, and I guess he was ready for the next stop, but I'm not. He took it well, and we're still friends, but the holidays are a little hollow on my own.

I wouldn't feel as lonely if I had been able to go home to Williamsburg, but I had to perform The Nutcracker in Sydney tonight. The show must go on, right? That's what I keep telling myself, watching all the happy couples and families walk down the street through the window of this café.

Brittany was the first Musketeer to make it to the Wren Chapel. That's the chapel at our university, and we all swore that we'd get married there. It's a silly promise, but that's what makes life great. Friendships where you keep silly promises...anyway, I suppose that M.J.'s appearance into this world has something to do with her and Jake's quick wedding...Sarah Lindsay is still with Thomas. A world full of happiness – why can't I find my soul mate? I'm beginning to think that he simply doesn't exist.

Don't worry about me, though. I've made a friend on the road. He's actually the owner of the company, which is a little awkward because I'm his employee. But, he makes me laugh, and is intelligent, a great dancer. Sergei is supposed to meet me soon for dinner; he doesn't have any family, either, so we're spending Christmas together.

Even after six years, I open the Daily Prophet each day, hoping to see that somehow, you've been freed. Sev brought me pictures of Harry and Gracie for an early Christmas present last week. They've gotten so big! And, I miss you so much. I still wish on our star every night that next year, we'll all be together, and I won't have to write this letter. Until then, Love, Isabelle

Sirius impatiently skimmed through the next two letters, until he got to the Christmas after she married Sergei Remizov, when she was twenty-five years old.


Merry Christmas. Ha. What's so merry about a season that only reminds you of how you have no family to speak of, and how miserable your life is? And, how much you've messed things up? Merry my foot.

I'm sorry if this letter is shorter than usual, but I have only a half hour before my husband gets home from work. Yes, my husband, can you believe it? I am now the Countess Isabelle Remizov, trophy bride of the rich and famous Count Sergei Remizov.

Please excuse me for being overly bitter. This wasn't how my life was supposed to turn out, Sirius. He tricked me, fooled me into thinking that he cared about me, but all he cares about is that I keep dancing for him, and my potions making abilities. Did I mention that he's a Death Eater? Not just any Death Eater, either. He was personally involved in the plot that killed my sister and put you in prison. And destroyed our family.

Sorry for being so down. On a happier note, Sarah Lindsay and Thomas visited the Wren Chapel this spring. Yet another shotgun wedding...I seem to have broken every Musketeer wedding tradition. I eloped in Las Vegas, and there are no children on the way.

I wish you were here to help me out of this mess. But, I'm beginning to realize that you're never coming back. And, writing these letters is just my way of trying to hold on to a past that's long gone, and a dream of a future that will never be. My future is here, with Sergei and the ballet company, and I need to make it work somehow. I'm sorry I betrayed you and the whole family, Sirius, by marrying him. Maybe one day you could forgive me. I love you, Isabelle

He put down the letter slowly, digesting Isabelle's words. Forgive her? He was the one who deserted her, left her alone to die. If anyone needed forgiveness, it was him, not her. A wave of guilt swept over him as he read about her abusive husband, her stay in Azkaban, and relationship with Lucius Malfoy. From what she wrote, Malfoy was the only positive thing in her life at the time, which sickened Sirius. What a sad life she lives, he thought while reading the letter describing the fall after she left her husband.


How foolish of me to think that I could just walk away from Sergei without a price. How utterly naive. Why couldn't I have paid for my mistakes, not my daughter? My precious little girl, if only you could've seen her. I do have a picture of her that I always keep with me, but somehow I doubt that our paths will cross again.

I'm going home, where I should've been all along, instead of chasing rainbows. After the New Year, I'm leaving Hogwarts, where Sev has been taking care of me. Harry plays Quiddich even better than James, I think. It was funny – I kept scanning the bleachers to find Gracie, even though I know I can't recognize her.

I did see you, though, padding through campus. Don't worry, no one knows that you're an animagus. Other than Remus, who is so ragged looking. Time has not been kind to any of us, huh?

Speaking of time, it's time for me to move on, and let go of all of you. A big part of my heart will always belong to you and the children, maybe the best part, but the rest of me needs to go home where I'm actually needed. Home is Virginia now, not Dover, or Sheffield, or Brighton. I still miss you desperately, and hope that you find the happiness you've always looked for. I will always love you, Isabelle

Sirius couldn't read another word. He ruined her life, and here she is, making excuses for wanting to go home, where people obviously loved her. Who are these people, he wondered, and why hasn't she mentioned them until now? For some reason, he took it for granted that he, Remus, Harry and Hermione were her only family, the only people she really cared about. These letters introduced him to a whole new world of people, a completely different family.

A world that he wasn't a part of. Suddenly, the years he and Isabelle were apart seemed like a lifetime. And she had left him behind a long time ago. But, why would she come back, then?

For the children, of course, he realized. She adored them, and always had, ever since they were born. Naturally she would want to watch them grow up, and be a part of their lives. But, what about him? That question plagued him as he turned out the light, and tried to fall asleep.

-----

Harry woke up earlier than anyone else Christmas morning, and couldn't go back to sleep, no matter what he tried. Finally, at five thirty in the morning, he padded over to Hermione's bedroom and quietly knocked on the door.

"What?" came a very grumpy mumble from the other side of the door.

"I can't sleep."

"Fine." A minute later, she opened the door.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly.

She rolled her eyes as he walked inside and plopped down on the bed. "Why are you so chipper, anyway?"

"No reason, other than that it annoys you."

"Why were you so late coming home last night?"

"What is this, twenty questions?" She glared at him. "Fine, I was taking a walk with Ginny."

"Ginny Weasley?"

"Do you know of another Ginny?"

"Well, no."

Harry spotted something in the corner of his room that made his temper flare. "Please tell me why there's a tie on your dresser that looks an awful lot like Ron's."

"Hmm?"

"Hermione, don't play with me."

"I don't know why it's here, ok? Satisfied?"

"No," he said vehemently.

"Alright. Well, we left the dance to take a walk, right, and I remembered that my mum won some award when she was a student here. So, Ron and I went to the trophy room to look for it, and then Papa and Isabelle came in. And then they started kissing, so we figured that they might head back here to snog or whatever. So, we ran back here real quick, changed, and walked around Hogsmeade for a while. Ron must've left his tie on the dresser when he was changing. Now are you happy?"

"Ecstatic. And all you and Ron did was walk?" She turned a deep scarlet, and looked down at the bed, tracing the pattern of the bedspread with her finger. "Thought so."

"I just don't know what to do, Harry."

"It's pretty simple. Stay away from boys. We're nothing but trouble." He winked at her.

"Isn't that the truth. Well, I have a couple of weeks at my parents' house to think about it," she sighed.

"Looking forward to it?" Harry leaned back on the bed and put his hands behind his head, looking at his cousin though slitted eyes.

"Yeah. I miss them, although I think I'll miss here worse when I'm there. Aren't you glad that you don't have to go to the Dursleys'?"

"Don't even go there. Be glad you're not related to them."

"Do you think it's odd that Isabelle hasn't contacted them at all?"

"No. Well, a little. From what Sirius says, Aunt Petunia was much worse to her than me. I couldn't imagine." Something finally clicked in Harry's mind. "Wait a minute here. Did you say that Sirius and Aunt Isabelle were kissing?"

"Wondered how long it would take you to bring that up."

"Sorry, I was a little preoccupied with the idea of my best friend snogging my cousin."

"You prat," Hermione said, smacking him in the face with a pillow.

"How much are you going to pay me not to tell Sirius? Hey, I just thought of something. Both of you are dating one person and snogging another. Genetics at work."

"Excuse me, Saint Harry. It's not like either of us is married or anything," she huffed.

"Don't defend yourself to me. I just want to be there when Viktor finds out," Harry laughed.

"You're insufferable."

"And you are in so much trouble. Was it worth it?"

"What?" Hermione's face turned red again.

"I didn't stutter."

"Yeah, it was worth it," she admitted. "So, what were you and Ginny doing?"

"Told you already. Walking."

"Sure you were. Come on, Harry. You can tell me," she said, rolling over on her stomach and crossing her ankles in the air.

"Walking. I swear," he added at the skeptical look on her face.

"Are you serious?" He nodded. "Harry Potter, you're boring," she pronounced, sounding remarkably like her mother.

"Me? Boring? Might I remind you that before you became friends with me, you never lifted your head out of a book?"

"That was years ago, Harry," she said archly. "People change."

He rolled his eyes. "Not enough. You're still obnoxious."

"Might I remind you that you knocked on my door?"

"Please don't. Next time, I'll just hang out in the hall with Crookshanks."

Hermione yawned. "Harry, either we go back to bed or go open presents. Hearing about your love life is making me sleepy, it's so dull."

"And yours is giving me heartburn."

"Cute. So, what's it going to be?" She laid her head down on her arms. "It's the first family Christmas since we were toddlers. What do you think?"

"Good point. You get Papa and Professor Lupin; I'll get Isabelle."

"Why are you sticking me with the grumps?"

"Because you woke me up at five thirty in the morning."

Harry gave her an evil look, but didn't argue. He walked out into the hallway, trying to decide who to wake up first. Chances are that he'd already woken up Sirius, so he figured that he may as well knock on his door first. He knocked on the door loudly, but got no response.

"Um, Sirius?" he called in a stage whisper. He looked over at Hermione.

"I'm not getting an answer."

"Isabelle's not answering, either. This is really weird. Papa always answers the door, usually before you even knock."

"I know. Do you think we should open the door?"

"Uh, well--"

"I get the idea." Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Well, want to raid the refrigerator?"

"Sure."

They quietly crept down the stairs, stopping abruptly when they walked into the living room. In the middle of carefully stacked piles of presents were Sirius and Isabelle, sound asleep. Isabelle was draped over an ottoman with a red bow stuck in her hair, and Sirius was stretched out on the floor, halfway under the Christmas tree.

Harry and Hermione couldn't help snickering, which immediately woke up Sirius, who sat up without thinking, knocking over the tree. Mumbling under his breath, he quickly righted the tree and rearranged the ornaments. He snuck a glance at Isabelle, and breathed a sigh of relief that she was still peacefully sleeping. She would've had a fit if she knew that he just ruined her hours of hard work. He thought it was a bit much to spend so much time decorating a Christmas tree at three o'clock in the morning, anyway.

"What is so funny?" Sirius muttered, trying to hide a small smile.

"Nothing," Hermione said unconvincingly. "Nothing at all."

"What's going on?" Isabelle sat up slowly, blinking rapidly to bring her eyes into focus. Her neck ached both from wrapping presents and sleeping in that awkward position. Sirius really owed her for waking her up at two-thirty in the morning in a panic because he forgot to ask Dobby to wrap the presents and set up the Christmas tree. Some family patriarch he is, she thought wryly. He needs me. If only he needed me for something other than raising the children. She frowned, and managed to grab the hem of Harry's robes as he made a beeline for his pile of presents.

"Oh no, you don't. I didn't just spend a delightful evening wrapping these presents for you to destroy my handiwork. We're going to spend at least a half hour admiring them first."

"What? Are you serious?" Isabelle and Sirius both crossed their arms and glared at Harry. "That's not fair."

"Life's not fair. The sooner you learn it, the better off you'll be. Come on, scoot," she said, herding the children into the kitchen. "Breakfast time."

"Wicked stepmother," Hermione grumbled under her breath.

"No, I believe there's someone else whose more deserving of that particular title, Gracie dear. Bagel?" Isabelle hissed back.

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks, and pulled Isabelle into the dining room. "What do you mean? Is--"

"I don't know what your father's intentions with Sara are. That's one area of his life I just don't want to know about. It's just that we might have to get used to her being around," she said resolutely.

"But I don't understand. I saw you last night with him."

"You didn't see anything," she replied though clenched teeth.

"My eyesight is perfect. It's so obvious that you care for each other. Why can't you be together, make us a real family. Just the four of us. Well, five with Professor Lupin, but that's not the point. The point is that--"

Isabelle had finally had enough of her cheek. She took Hermione by the shoulders, and looked her straight in the eyes. "I'm only going to tell you this once. I cannot be with your father, ever, because it is forbidden. Do you understand?"

A look of understanding flashed in Hermione's eyes. "Perfectly. But, why is it forbidden?"

"It's completely taboo. And, even if it was permissible in society's eyes, it's certainly not something that our family, this family would approve of."

"That's not true. Harry and I would approve. So would Professor Lupin, probably. And, the rest of the family is dead and gone, Isabelle. Who cares what they would think? Things are different now."

"Not different enough."

"Why won't you fight for him?"

"Because I'll lose, because he doesn't think of me that way. And if I make a fool of myself, I lose everything – him, you and Harry. It's better just to leave things be."

Hermione traced the pattern of the rug with her toe. "I feel the same way about Ron."

"Why do we even bother with men, huh? Come on, it looks like we both need some serious chocolate therapy." Isabelle led her to the kitchen before she could ask any more difficult questions. They loaded up plates with various concoctions that were piled on the counter, and headed back to the living room.

"So, decided to join the land of the living?" Isabelle asked Remus, who merely grunted in reply, and proceeded to down an entire cup of tea in one huge gulp. Harry kept giving her imploring looks, so she finally broke down and allowed him to dive into his pile of gifts.

Wrapping paper, bows, tissue paper, and ribbon filled every square inch of floor space as everyone quickly opened their presents.

"Wow," Hermione breathed, opening Isabelle's present. Inside a colorful crate was at least a dozen hardback books.

"I read all of these in high school, and figured you might like them, too," she explained. "Something to do over break."

"Thanks," came a distracted reply, thumbing through Sense and Sensibility, which she piled on top of Les Miserables, The Thorn Birds and Gone with the Wind.

Harry opened a large box full of the latest Quiddich equipment. He peered into the box, amazed, pulling out its contents onto the floor. Soon, the living room looked like the inside of Quality Quiddich Supplies, and Isabelle was giving Sirius an evil look from behind her iced tea glass.

"It's Christmas," he defended himself. She bit her tongue at the happy look on Harry's face.

"Oh, almost forgot. This is for you," she said, handing Sirius a small box. "It's from Hagrid and I."

He gave her a funny look, and pulled out a statuette of an incredibly strange looking creature.

"It's a riddle," she continued. "If you can figure it out, you'll know exactly what your present is."

"Looks like something Hagrid would like, all right," Harry whispered to Hermione, who laughed.

"Is that what I think it is?" Remus asked Isabelle quietly.

"Yup."

Sirius was carefully studying the statuette, turning it over in the palm of his right hand. After a minute, he held it out to Hermione. "Do you know what this thing is?"

"Sure. It's a sea serpent."

"How do you know that?" he asked, winking at Isabelle. He knew exactly what it was, or at least, he hoped that he did.

Hermione shrugged. "It's pretty simple. Only sea serpents have heads like a horse, and a long body like a snake."

Sirius put the statuette on the floor. It seemed that she had inherited her mother's general inability to think logically, which greatly disappointed him.

"Wait a minute." Hermione's eyes lit up. "I read in a book that kelpies sometimes take the form of a sea serpent. So, this could be either a kelpie or a sea serpent."

"What's a kelpie?" Harry couldn't believe the weird things she read about in her spare time.

"A water demon that's usually found in the British Isles. The most famous one is the Loch Ness Monster in Scotland. But, why would Isabelle give you a figurine of the Loch Ness Monster? I'm missing something here."

"What you're missing is that Isabelle has a very twisted sense of humor. Come outside, and I'll show you what this is." He led them outside, thankful that Hermione did inherit his common sense, after all. He placed the statuette on the ground. "So, what's the spell to transfigure this thing?"

Isabelle smiled. "The old one. Be careful not to say it too loudly this time."

"Figures." Sirius muttered a complex series of incantations under his breath, and the little statuette began to grow rapidly. After about ten seconds, it had become a very large motorcycle. "How'd you find it, Belle?"

"Hagrid kept it in a shed. All I had to do was fix it up."

"You know how to work on a bike?"

"Yeah, dated a NASCAR pit crew chief once, and spent way too much time in the garage with his grease monkey friends. I can work on cars, bikes, whatever."

"No kidding?" Sirius was impressed. What a woman, he thought, shaking his head in amazement.

"I even made some minor adjustments," she added.

"Adjustments?" He put his arms across his chest, and glared at her.

"I didn't make the bike wussy. On the contrary, I added a little extra kick, in the form of NOS."

"You put a nitrous oxide system on this thing?"

"A magically enhanced nitrous oxide system. It just might be the fastest vehicle on the planet. Wanna see?" Isabelle hopped on the bike, and fired it up. "What are you waiting for? Gotten chicken in your old age?"

"Never," he replied, jumping on the bike. His hesitation had nothing to do with the bike's speed, and everything to do with being this close to her.

"Hold on tight," she called back, pressing a small red button.

The bike disappeared into the trees. Remus stood there, thinking. What had just happened? It seemed to him that Isabelle managed to get Sirius right where she wanted him – alone with her. And Sirius didn't seem to mind one bit; in fact, he reciprocated every one of her advances. Well, as much of an advance as she dared to give in front of the children. His two best friends were obviously playing with fire, and he didn't want to get in the middle of it. His head began to throb, as the bike came into view and stopped with a loud squeal in front of the house.

"Didn't realize how much I missed this old thing," Sirius said, transfiguring the bike back into the figurine of a kelpie. "You really are twisted."

"Thank you," Isabelle replied, smiling.

"Why is she twisted?" Harry asked, puzzled.

His aunt laughed. "I'll tell you once we go back inside. It's freezing cold out here."

Remus pulled Isabelle away from the rest of the family as they rushed back indoors. "You are so playing with fire."

"Oh, please. The fire between the two of us is as big as a lighted match. You worry too much, my friend."

"Ok, we're inside," Hermione said impatiently.

"She transfigured the bike into a kelpie because a long time ago, I really wanted a motorcycle, but your mother didn't want me to get one," Sirius began.

"That's an understatement," Isabelle interrupted, turning to Remus and putting one hand on her hip.

"I don't know why you want one of those death machines, Sirius," she spat.

"It's not a death machine," Remus replied with mock patience. "It's no different than riding a broomstick."

"Other than the fact that it's three times as fast as James' racing broom? I just can't help but think about all those times you weren't looking and smacked into that tree in the backyard."

"Regina, we were nine years old."

"And you haven't gotten any better at riding a broomstick since, so a motorcycle is completely out of the question. End of discussion."

Isabelle and Remus started laughing hysterically at the look on Sirius' face.

"Oh, come on," Remus said, clutching his sides because they had started hurting from laughter. "Lighten up. You're not the one who had to hear that argument three times a day for six months."

"No, I just lived it. Anyway, Regina was being stubborn about it, so one day I just gave up trying to persuade her to get one. Or, so she thought. I bought the bike and transfigured it into another object. Well, one day she found out, and it wasn't a very pretty scene."

"To say the least," Isabelle added. "I can't believe you transfigured a flying motorcycle into your wedding ring."

"Why not?" Sirius defended himself. "That way, I always had it around when I wanted to use it."

"Yeah, until Gina found the real ring one day when she was going through a drawer. It didn't take her long to figure out what he was up to. Mistake number one: he quit bugging her all of a sudden one day. Bound to make her suspicious. Mistake number two: he really should've transfigured the real ring into a potted plant or something. Let's put it this way – it's a miracle you were conceived, Hermione, because after your mother was done with him, we all doubted that he possessed that particular ability."

"Witty, Isabelle. Finished with your commentary now?" Sirius said in a tone of voice that would make most people tremble with fright, but only made Isabelle laugh harder, until her face turned purple.

"But, what does that have to do with a kelpie?" Harry asked.

"After that, Regina went on a rampage, trying to find whatever I transfigured the bike into so that she could get rid of it. She called the bike Nessie, because it changed shapes to something harmless and could kill people in its true form quickly like a kelpie. I managed to keep it from her, only because I invented a spell that only I and the snoop over there knew how to perform. After a couple of years, our um, disagreement became well known and everyone started calling my bike Nessie." He rolled his eyes.

"I thought turning it into a kelpie was a nice touch," Isabelle pouted, gaining a raised eyebrow from Remus.

"You would."

A loud knock interrupted Isabelle's response, and Sirius jumped up to get the door. Hermione groaned inwardly when Sara walked inside. Why does she have to come here and ruin everything? Hermione thought. She loved hearing stories about her parents when they were young, and especially enjoyed hearing about her mother. And, the second that Sara showed up, her mother became a taboo subject. She hoped to have a long talk with her father about Sara on the train ride to her parents' house tomorrow. About how she didn't like her at all. And how things would be much better if he was with Isabelle. At least Isabelle didn't mind talking about her mother, wasn't jealous of her memory.

"Gold digger's here," Isabelle whispered in Hermione's ear. "Good thing I have the vault keys with me." They both started laughing.

"At least she can't touch my trust fund," Harry added, making the volume of the laughter increase until Sirius was giving them an odd look.

Luckily, a racket at the doorway diverted everyone's attention. Remus opened the door, and five Weasleys, Fleur, Angelina and Star rushed inside, laughing and joking with their arms filled with presents.

"Merry Christmas, everybody," Charlie called over the din. "I'd just like to announce that Fleur had a bout of temporary insanity last night and agreed to marry me."

"No, I think the insanity's a permanent condition," Fleur replied, smiling broadly, obviously madly in love. The couple was instantly surrounded by people congratulating them, and offering various advice.

The house was utter chaos, as everyone chatted, ate and opened presents. The students were taking a cautious tour of the house, having never been to the faculty grounds before. In the pandemonium, Ron and Hermione snuck upstairs to her bedroom.

"We have exactly two minutes before someone starts looking for us."

"I know, Hermione. It's just that I, uh, well, about last night," Ron stuttered, turning a bright shade of red.

"Don't worry about it. People do crazy things at dances. It's nothing to ruin our friendship over, right?"

"Right." He looked into her worried grey eyes, and wanted to say that it wasn't just a random snog to him, that it meant something. She meant something to him – everything, actually.

"Well, I guess we'd better get downstairs." Hermione's thoughts were muddled as she followed Ron downstairs. On the one hand, last night wasn't just a casual fling to her. But, on the other hand, Isabelle was completely right. She had everything to lose if things didn't work out between she and Ron. Confused, she sat on the stoop at the bottom of the staircase, and rested her head on her hands.

She sat there for a few minutes, just thinking of what to do about Ron, and Viktor. Viktor had always been so good to her, and was a real shoulder to lean on this year, considering that her entire world changed in a day. And, Ron was her best friend; how did that translate into a romantic relationship? It worked for my parents, she reminded herself. Just as she decided to ask Isabelle more questions about how her parents got together, two exasperated voices floated into the hallway from the dining room. Intrigued, Hermione stayed put, trying to hear the conversation.

"Come on, Isabelle. I'm scared to death to go to my future in-laws' house."

"Fleur, you've met the entire family already. What's the problem?"

"I really want to make a good impression on Charlie's mom. And, I could really use you there as moral support. You're like an older sister to me. Please?"

"No."

"Harry's going there for the rest of the holidays, right? You could go as his guardian, to make sure that he got there alright. And, to meet the people who have been so much of an influence in his life."

Isabelle sighed. "You win. But, I'll only stay at the Burrow for the morning."

"You're a sainted woman."

A loud explosion from the kitchen echoed throughout the first floor of the house. Everyone ran to see what the origin of the noise was, and found Fred hurriedly trying to fix a large black crater in the middle of the floor.

"What in the world happened here?" Sirius asked sharply.

"Uh, sir, well, we were trying out a new trick." Fred gulped.

"Which was?"

"Shooting Soda Cans. When you open them, they're supposed to spray you in the face, but it looks like we haven't worked out all the kinks," Fred said meekly.

"Obviously," he replied through clenched teeth, looking at the crater. Fred took a quick step back at the look on his face; Sirius Black's temper was legendary. And it looked like he was about to experience it first hand.

"It's no worse than what you used to do, Sirius. No permanent damage, really. Besides, it's Christmas," Isabelle said softly, so that only he could hear her.

He looked down at her, and his expression softened. "Be sure to clean the mess up," he barked, and stormed off to the living room.

"Whatever Professor Evans said just saved your life," Angelina said to Fred, wide-eyed.

"No doubt. I seriously owe her." He and George quickly repaired the floor, and snuck outside through the dining room, figuring it was best to lay low for a while.