Merry Christmas

Eva Marlowe is grateful for magic as she makes an appearance at Number 12 Grimmauld Place the following evening. There is no telling how many trips it would take to get all her stuff, not to mention a mountain of Christmas presents, moved to a whole other location, if not for the Shrinking charm. It was sure to wake up Mrs Black's portrait if she were to lug enormous bags past the portrait and up the stairs. Not to mention she was bound to get tangled in those Christmas decorations someone decided to put up in the last twenty-four hours since she has been gone.

She hesitates in the entry hall for a while, torn between hiding in her temporary room and saying hello to Harry and checking up on him. She mostly decides to pop down to the kitchen because it is just plain rude to simply move into a random room without letting the occupants of the house know she has arrived. She is disappointed though when she doesn't spot Harry among the gathered group in the kitchen. Actually, she can spot none of the children, which she finds weird as it is only eight in the evening.

"Wotcher, Eva." She smiles at Tonks' greeting and makes a strange little wave as a hello to everyone else. The mood among the adults is peculiar; half expectant and half apprehensive.

"I love what you've done with the place," she comments, pointing to the ornaments, that are draped around the kitchen, too. "I especially liked those Santa hats on elves' heads."

Remus rolls his eyes and Molly shrieks, as she has obviously not been informed of this, and scrambles out of the kitchen, muttering something about the twins.

"That's what you get when the self-appointed decorating committee consists of Fred and George and Sirius." Remus tries for stern, but she can see him trying to hide his grin. Tonks giggles at her side and Eva can't help but join in.

"I think it's an improvement," Sirius says. There is still a smile on her lips as she looks at him. She tries not to show her surprise at his appearance but cannot quite manage to suppress the flinch backwards. He has managed to mostly shake off the homeless vibe and the smell of stale firewhiskey that clung to him the day before. He has shaved and even cut his hair to a length above his shoulders and his shirt seems to be not only clean but also ironed. She has not seen him this put together since their reunion. She guesses the house full of people does wonders to his mood as he also seems moderately amicable. "I thought you changed your mind."

"No." She shakes her head. "Packing just took longer than I expected."

"Packing?" asks Remus. Okay, so Sirius hasn't told him, she will be staying at the headquarters for the holidays. Did he change his mind? She looks helplessly from Remus to Sirius for some indication of what to say but Remus keeps looking at her expectantly and Sirius seems more interested in observing a garland hanging over Bill's head than helping her out. So typical.

"I- Well, I am staying here for as long as the children are here. To spend some time with Harry." She looks questioningly at Sirius again but he gives no indication that he has heard her. Remus looks from her to Sirius in surprise but Sirius doesn't say anything to him either. Eva shrugs at Remus.

"Oh, that's nice," Remus finally forces out even as she can see doubt on his face. He remembers perfectly well how they get along. Tonks seems equally as sceptic as her eyes swish from Sirius to her.

"Speaking off, where are all the children?" She asks this mostly to change the subject. "It seems a bit early for them to go to bed, isn't it?"

They exchange apprehensive looks among themselves and the mood gets gloomy.

"They are probably trying to lure Harry out of the attic," Tonks answers.

"What? Why would he be in the attic?"

"He's been hiding since we came back from visiting Arthur."

"Did something happen while you were there?" Tonks shakes her head slowly.

"Not that I could tell. I'm not the most perceptive person but I've been thinking back to it and I can think of nothing that would upset him."

"Has anyone talked to him?" They all shake their heads or shrug their shoulders.

"He has been avoiding all of us. And we can't really force him to talk to us if he doesn't want to. Maybe he needs some space." Remus seems to be trying to appease his guilty conscience.

"I thought if we act like everything is normal, he will eventually see, that we don't think he's abnormal and he'll join us decorating the house," Sirius contributes to the conversation. Eva pinches the bridge of her nose in exasperation. If anything, Harry probably thinks they are happy to live on without him. His pride wouldn't allow him to join them. She chances a glance at Tonks and finds her looking at her sceptically.

Men. Some things really need a woman's touch. No matter how unequipped, non-motherly and out of touch with the world that woman is.

"Sirius has sung his entire collection of Christmas carols at the top of his voice to lure him down," Remus tells her hopelessly.

"His entire collection?" she repeats doubtfully. They all nod.

"He does have a nice singing voice," Tonks agrees. Eva bits her lip. She remembers. She can't remember the sound of it but she remembers he has a nice voice. A shiver runs down her spine. "Too bad it doesn't run in the family."

"I should go see him." She is about to get up but Remus puts a hand on her forearm to stop her.

"I think maybe you should wait. Hermione arrived a few hours ago and I think she might have more luck talking to him."

Sirius seems to agree.

"She's a smart girl. And Harry's best friend."

Eva purses her lips displeased but nods anyway. Hermione knows him better than she does, after all.

She eats left-over dinner when Molly returns grumbling something about permanent sticking charms and then unpacks all of her bags slowly, leaving the door of her new bedroom open. When she can hear Hermione and Ginny walking past her room, she is quick to pop her head around the doorframe to look at them inquisitively.

"Hi, girls."

"Hi, Eva. I didn't know you're staying here." Ginny looks curiously at the mess of half unpacked things all over her room.

"Hey, no peeking at the Christmas presents!" She closes the door behind her. "Yes, I've been…" she hesitates to find the right word, "invited to stay here during the holidays."

The girls exchange quick looks of surprise but offer their sincere if a bit concerned approval. They have obviously not forgotten her previous interactions with Sirius either.

"Harry will be happy to have you here," Hermione tells her with a soft smile.

"You think?" She cannot hide anxiousness in her voice.

"I do. Very much so." There is no reason not to believe her and Eva breathes a sigh of relief.

"Is he- Did you-" She doesn't want to ask her something that would make her betray his confidence but she just wants to know if Harry is okay. Hermione and Ginny exchange another look and seem to read her mind.

"He's in his room with Ron." She nods grateful at Hermione's words. "I'm sure he would like to see you."

Ginny nods in agreement.

"It's good for him to have a woman to talk to." Eva raises her eyebrows at Ginny's insight that is so similar to her own. "Men are sometimes so…" Ginny struggles to find words but there is no need as both a very serious Hermione and an amused Eva nod along with her.

Not much later she knocks on the door of Harry and Ron's bedroom and the door opens in an instant as Ron barges out with an armful of bathroom supplies.

"Oh, sorry, Eva." He apologises and leaves the door open for her as he leaves down the hall.

"Hey, Harry." He looks up at her with shameful eyes as if he expects her to scold him.

"Hi, Eva."

"Soooo, I heard some things." Harry throws himself back onto the bed exasperated and defeated. Eva can't help but laugh. "Don't worry, I'm not here to preach. I just want to make sure you're okay." He remains quiet. "So, are you? Okay?"

He sits up slowly and looks at her.

"Yeah. I think so. I was just confused. And unreasonable apparently." Eva smiles and sits on Ron's bed to face him.

"Hermione?"

"Yes. And Ginny. And Ron. All of them."

"They are good friends. Hold on to them." Her voice breaks at this and she has to look away. "Did you sleep, Harry? You need to sleep. If you want, I can stay-"

"No. It's okay. I slept. Really. I just… I heard something and I thought I might be possessed by Voldemort and I didn't really feel like being among others."

"Harry-"

"I know. Hermione already talked to me. And Ginny who has actually been possessed by him. Her first year. And she assured me that's not how it is."

"Merlin, I totally forgot about that," she says guiltily.

"Me too," Harry admits even more guilty.

"I bet she hasn't, has she?"

"No, she hasn't," he says solemnly. They are quiet for a while, contemplating the trauma that must still be Ginny's constant companion.

"So, we can expect you to join the Christmas cheer tomorrow morning? I heard Sirius has broken out his singing voice to cheer you up."

"That was to cheer me up? Oh."

"Don't worry, he's not offended. Just concerned. And he might start on his repertoire of dirty songs if you don't come down soon. Trust me, none of us wants to hear that." They both smile, Harry red from embarrassment, but he promises to join them.

"Will you be here tomorrow too?"

"Oh, I didn't tell you. I'm staying here for the holidays," she tells him cheerfully. "Unless… You don't want me here? Maybe you would rather be alone with Sirius and the Weasleys. I don't have to be here. I was planning to invite you to my place for a few days but I didn't want to force you. The current arrangement works just as well. Or even better. Unless you don't want-"

"Eva!" He interrupts her ramblings wide eyed. "I'm glad you'll be here for the holidays."

She bites her lower lip, slightly embarrassed by her outburst but still unable to conceal her grin.

"I'm glad to be here." She prepares to leave then. "I you need anything, Harry, don't hesitate to ask."

She knows he hasn't told her everything. As always, he keeps his fears, his guilt and his sorrow close to his core. She wants to interrogate him, to dissect his feelings and lighten his burden. But she cannot force it. He doesn't trust her completely. He might never trust her. But she will keep trying. For now she tries to be happy to at least be a guest at the hypothetical future party.

For Eva the week that follows is a strange one. For one, she only goes to work twice. The house is peaceful but there is certain excitement in the air. Sirius seems to be in such a jolly mood that everyone gets infected by his Christmas cheer. He does start on his list of dirty songs, which the twins are more than happy to join in and even Harry and Ron, not to mention Remus, get pulled in while Eva makes it her mission to distract Molly. Everybody helps with cleaning and decorating (Eva notices that the house-elves heads are now sporting long white beards to complete the Santa hats, much to Molly's chagrin), the whole house is alight with laughter, Remus has even manged to shut-up Mrs Black's portrait for the time being, Tonks has taken it upon herself to make a batch of eggnog every time she comes around (which is not seldom), Harry seems to be enjoying himself and, with the exception of a rare snarky comeback, the only fight she had gotten into with Sirius was about the non-existent colour theme of Christmas ornaments. She feels involved in everything and everyone's lives.

Through the week her eyes never stray away from Harry for long. It is not just that she is looking for signs of fatigue and stress on his face. She looks on as he laughs with Ron at something Fred is saying, as he modestly thanks Molly for the plate she puts in front of him, as his eyes light up talking of flying and then dim again as he remembers his Quidditch ban, as melancholy colours the lines of his face when he sees Molly hug Ron (even as he tries to escape her grip), as his own eyes follow Sirius, always making sure he is near, always being aware where in the room he is, always sneaking looks at the door when he isn't there. Every time she sees this anxious worry he has for his godfather, a worry that he will blink, and he will be gone from his life, a heavy weight settles in her stomach. Not because he doesn't look at her the same way (maybe a little). But because she knows how little it takes for something to be ripped out of your life. Harry knows it too and she hates the fact that he does. Nevertheless, despite everything he has been through, in life and these past few weeks, Harry handles it with remarkably little amount of bitterness for a teenager with such a load on his shoulders. Oh, of course he is angry and resentful and has made himself heard. But he is still here, still kind and sweet and forgiving. Way too forgiving.


On the day of Christmas Eve, Molly gets them all up before seven as they apparently have much to do. And much is not even the right word. By late lunch Eva is ready to drop and supposedly, they are not even halfway done. Her oldest and rattiest sweatpants and t-shirt are dusty, sweaty and draped with cobwebs from all the cleaning, decorating, baking and cooking, Molly has forced her into. Her hair in a messy bun at the top of her head is not faring much better. She admits it is not all bad. She has fun baking cookies with Harry and his friends but she absolutely detests cooking. And it's not even really cooking. It's chopping onions and peeling potatoes and stirring the sauce as she can't be trusted with anything else. She does it with a scowl that makes Harry, Ron and Hermione hide smiles in their hands, the twins laugh right into her face and Ginny glare fiercely at all the others in sympathy and go on a feminist speech about inequality of the sexes.

She is almost relived to be sent to crawl all over the attic to look for more decorations. Still, she curses like a sailor, uses her wand more than once to kill a bunch of crawly things and spits out mouthfuls of dust. The decorations are not usable though unless someone wants to be strangled by a chain of Christmas lights.

She finds Sirius and Remus hiding in one of the bathrooms where she herself intends to take a breather. They sit at the toilet lid and the edge of a bathtub respectively and when she whips open the door, jump to their feet almost falling one over another, trying to hide the booze.

"What are you two doing?" she asks suspiciously.

"Cleaning." Sirius pushes a dirty mop into her face. She shoves it away.

"Get that out of my face. And give me some of that fierewhiskey."

"What firewhiskey?"

"The one you're hiding in the bathtub. Now! Or I'm telling Molly you're slacking off and getting drunk in here."

"You wouldn't." She narrows her eyes at him and after he takes a good look at her disgusting appearance and murderous glare, he offers her a bottle. Her relief is short-lived, though.

"Eva? Did you find those lights?" Molly yells and Eva rolls her eyes.

She opens the door and hollers irritably: "They tried to strangle me when I lit them. Do you still want them?"

Sirius and Remus snort but Eva still looks homicidal.

"Leave them then. We have enough anyway. Come down here! Mundungus is bringing the tree any time now. We are all helping decorate."

Eva clenches her fists and smacks her forehead on the doorframe.

"You two better come down in next five minutes. I'm not putting up a tree by myself. It is sure to be a process like everything else."

She is right of course as Molly dictates Sirius to change the position of the tree so many times, he probably wishes for those lights from the attic. And when the position is just right, the real work starts as the branches are not equal on all sides. It does make her smile though when she can see Harry putting the Christmas balls onto the branches, his face alight with laughter. She smiles because she knows, that's the scene Lily would revel in. She would love this. She would also change the position of the tree at least fifty times more.

After that Molly freaks out as she still hasn't baked the cake and she has promised to visit Arthur and bring him dinner. She looks so distraught that, despite the fact, that the woman has practically tortured her for the whole day, Eva somehow volunteers to bake the bloody cake. She has no idea how Molly has guilted her into this. When the door closes behind the older woman and she remains alone with a complicated recipe and a table full of ingredients, the silence in the kitchen seems imminent.

She takes a glance at the recipe and feels panic consume her. She has no idea where to start. She runs after Molly to tell her she has changed her mind.

In the drawing room, where most of the others rest, watching the tree and drinking eggnog, Sirius raises a sceptical eyebrow as Molly informs them she is going to visit Arthur, and Eva will kindly bake a cake in her absence.

"She will bake a cake?"

"Yes."

"And you left her there alone?"

"Why wouldn't I leave her alone? It's just a cake. And I left her a very simple recipe."

"Listen, Molly. I have seen that woman cry maybe five times since I have first met her at eleven years old. One of those times was over a cake. A full-blown meltdown at that. It ended with me being sent all over magical and muggle London to hunt down a cake at nine in the evening on New Year's Eve."

Most everyone chuckles at that as Sirius gulps down his drink, Harry eagerly sits forward in his chair to not miss a word of it and Molly looks suddenly worried. Eva gaps from the doorway, where she has joined them without them noticing. She cannot believe he would tell them that. At this point in their lives she could hardly believe him to admit he once went to the same school as her or breathed the same air, much less admit he has seen her cry. More than once. Or ran around the city looking for a cake they could do without, just because she was inconsolable about it.

"That's not how it happened," Eva states incredulously. Everyone turns to look at her. And she knows, she must be a sight. "And it was Harry's first New Year's Eve. We needed a cake."

Sirius scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"Harry slept through the whole night. And he was too little to be allowed any cake at all."

"That's not the point!" It's ridiculous, she knows, to fight about something that happened fifteen years ago but her frayed nerves still make her pout like a five-year-old. And it's better to pout then stare at him in astonishment. "I just wanted- Oh, never mind. I'm going to go bake that cake. And I 'll try not to cry over it!"

She storms off but can still hear his response.

"You do that."

She returns to the kitchen and takes another look at the recipe, taking a deep breath.

"Okay. I've got this. It's just like potions."

She hasn't got it. And it's definitely nothing like potions. She thankfully doesn't cry over it. She wants to, though. They don't have cake this Christmas. She figures Molly will have to forgive her someday.

The dinner is a boisterous and crowded affair as half of the Order seems to join them at the table. Eva is grateful for she has no time to get lost in her inner turmoil. Not to mention, alcohol flows freely. She paces herself though.

After dinner she still has presents to wrap. For Harry she has a mountain of mostly clothes, candy and books. She has thought about giving him something special but realized she really has nothing. She never was sentimental about things and it feels cheesy and fake to give more purpose than it deserves to some random object. She also has presents for all the Weasley children and Hermione and things like chocolate, alcohol or some small trinkets for the adults. She contemplates about giving something to Sirius and comes to the conclusion that if she is to give him anything, he cannot know about it. She gives him a peaceful Christmas night. Eva smiles to herself when she sees him gulp down a glass of eggnog spiced with Dreamless sleep potion. He is none the wiser.

Her own dreams that night, like many nights in the last two months, are plagued by Jonathan's last smile.

On Christmas morning she decides she should make some effort. She hasn't celebrated Christmas since before Lily's death. Harry was only five months old then. He's fifteen now. That's a long period of time. She can barely remember what's she supposed to be feeling. With Lily, there was always that contagious giddiness of a Christmas morning. Eva didn't really care about decorating the tree and opening presents and baking cookies and drinking eggnog and lighting a fire in the fireplace and reading Christmas stories in front of the fire and going for a walk to look at Christmas lights and sitting for dinner with friends and family and making a chocolate cake and rolling around in the snow with friends. But Lily loved it all and her enthusiasm was so genuine that it pulled Eva right into it. When Lily died, for Eva, so did Christmas. And she cannot remember how she is supposed to feel. Yesterday she mostly felt frustrated and tired and out of her comfort zone. And that's how Molly looked too, irritable and short for time, so she figures that is the norm. But that was yesterday, Christmas morning was something special. She is supposed to feel special.

She puts on her nice matching underwear. Not the sexy set but a nice set. Merlin knows why as nobody will see it. She pulls on a pair of fairly new pair of thick black leggings that have no holes in them and are not see-through over her arse and a soft, curve hugging, cashmere sweater in turquoise colour. She brushes her washed hair until it's silky between her fingers and pulls it away from her face. She even puts on a light make-up and a lip gloss in deep red, paints her nails the same colour and sprinkles on a few drops of perfume. A pair of red and green socks with red-nosed reindeers completes her outfit.

She looks at herself in the mirror. It isn't bad. But she still feels no different. It's same old Eva Marlowe. Same old broken image. Only in nice underwear.

She catches sight of a small pile of presents at the foot of her bed and approaches tentatively. For a while she stands above them and then crouches to start opening them slowly. She's not overly excited about presents, has never been, but she knows it's expected of her to open them. Lily loved that part. And Eva loved watching her face lit up as she tore open the wrapping paper with excitement of an eight-year-old. Her smile is sad as she thinks of past Christmases and she feels strangely melancholic. She's pretty sure that's not supposed how she's supposed to be feeling. She has no idea where the nostalgia comes from. At her house, Christmas was a formal affair when they still celebrated and while true, Lily loved it, all in all it was never a big deal. For her and Sirius it was mostly an excuse to get drunk.

A present from Molly and Arthur (her very first Weasley sweater) makes her think she is thought off as one of the kids in the house, a box of Belgian chocolates from Remus brings a smile upon her face and a bottle of Ogden's finest from Tonks calls for a toast. Even Harry has bought her a pair of soft purple velvet gloves. They remind her of the purple robe she once borrowed from Mrs Black's closet and she giggles to herself.

Hearing the house starting to wake up, she walks down the hall and pauses at the open door of Harry and Ron's bedroom. Ron is tearing in the presents enthusiastically, commenting on every new addition and even Harry's full concentration is on the presents in front of him.

She wishes them Merry Christmas and then sits on Harry's bed to watch them proceed through piles of gifts in front of them. Soon they are joined by Ginny, Hermione and the twins. Eva finds herself enjoying their banter. Mostly she enjoys seeing Harry happy. As everyone disperses to get ready for breakfast, she stays behind with Harry, summons a huge pile of packages from her bedroom and dumps them all over Harry's bed. He looks at her wide-eyed.

"What's this?" he asks bewildered.

"Presents," she states unceremoniously.

"But you already gave me a present. A very nice leather winter jacket and a box of chocolates. Thank you, by the way."

"You're welcome."

"Soooo, what's this?" he asks again.

"More presents." Harry keeps staring at her and she starts fidgeting uncomfortably. "I have many years to make up for."

"You don't have to make up for anything. I don't need more presents." Harry's face darkens as if he thinks she is trying to buy him off.

"Oh, Merlin, I know you don't. But I wanted to buy them. And I couldn't help myself once I started. I just kept buying more and more and you should thank Tonks that all the clothes don't have little snitches fluttering over them or cartoon characters printed over the front. The last time I bought you clothes you were only a year old and everything was so little and cute, and I guess I just wanted to continue where I stopped."

She forces herself to stop biting her fingernails. Harry has never seen Eva Marlowe look as young as she does now, in that moment, with her blue sweater and the top third of her hair pulled back with an elastic band, rambling nervously and twisting her hands in front of her stomach.

"You bought me clothes?" he asks as if that's a novelty for him.

"I really hope you won't be angry but I noticed your muggle clothes seem kind of worse for wear. I know teenaged boys aren't really thrilled with shopping so I thought I could buy you some things. And then it got a little out of hand," she says sheepishly.

"No kidding." Harry eyes a mountain of presents on his bed. "They're Dudley's old clothes, you know."

"Dudley's old clothes?" she repeats. Harry pulls at his thin worn shirt with two fingers.

"Yeah. They don't fit him anymore. And they will never fit me. He's a lot bigger than me." Eva raises an eyebrow at his kind words.

"I didn't know your aunt and uncle were so bad off."

"They're not." Harry averts his eyes. "They just don't want to waste their money on me."

"Waste their… Are you telling me they never bought you new clothes? Cloths that would fit you? But they bought Dudley new clothes?" She is not against second-hand clothes and knows many families can't afford anything else. But to not buy a few pieces of clothes that would actually fit a growing boy? That's preposterous. Especially if they have enough money. Her jaw clenches painfully and she's about to fly off the handle.

"It doesn't matter. I have my uniform at Hogwarts. I don't really care what I'm wearing at the Dursleys."

"Doesn't matter? But-"

"And now I have a bunch of new clothes." He picks up a random present and tears off the wrapping paper. He looks at her questioningly as he pulls out a green hoodie with a little golden snitch fluttering over his heart. "Wow, you weren't kidding about the snitches."

Albeit unwillingly and with a heavy heart, she lets the issue go. For the time being.

"Yes, well, I couldn't tear myself away from it." She shrugs helplessly. Harry looks at the hoodie more closely.

"It's very nice."

Eva nods, an embarrassed but proud smile on her face.

"I didn't think you would have wanted to make a big deal in front of everybody, so I waited to give you those presents in private."

"Thanks," he breathes gratefully. "You really didn't have to-"

She waves off his reservations.

"I wanted to. Anyway, you should get dressed so we can go get some breakfast. We can burn your old clothes later."

She gives one last resentful look at his t-shirt.

They all talk amicably during a delicious breakfast but the mood is not really jubilant as Molly wipes her eyes from time to time when she catches sight of Percy's returned gift and the absence of Arthur Weasley still hangs over their heads like a storm cloud. And for the first time in the whole week she has been staying there, Eva feels like an outsider. It's a heavy feeling.

After lunch Remus, Moody and Molly take the kids to pay another visit to Arthur. She breathes a sigh of relief as she sits down in an armchair in front of the tree and revels in the quietness of the house. Even Sirius, she thinks, seems to be grateful for a few hours of peace as he disappears to his bedroom. It is after all hard to keep a mask on for days on end. She would know.

She doesn't mind Tonks' company though when she joins her, sitting by the fire, watching the tree. The younger woman seems to be equally sombre, as uncharacteristic as it is for her.

"Something on your mind, Dora?" Tonks shrugs.

"I spent some time with my parents today."

"And that's bad?"

"No. Just…" She runs a hand through her blue-grey tresses. "I wish I could tell them the truth. I keep lying to them about almost everything in my life and they can feel it. If I could at least tell them about Sirius. Mom has always loved him and I think she has suffered a lot thinking he has betrayed her."

Eva summons two tumblers of spiked eggnog for moral support.

"Maybe you can tell her. I'm sure if you took it up with Dumbledore, it could be arranged."

"I don't want them to know what I got myself into. And there is no way around it if I say anything about Sirius. I don't think they would be strictly against me fighting against You Know Who but it's an Order's secret and I can't just tell them." Tonks shakes her head, sighing. "It would mean bringing them to the Order, too."

"And they wouldn't want that?"

"I don't know. Do you know her? My mom? You mentioned her once. I would ask her if she knows you but I can't just casually drop your name in a conversation. She would know something is up."

"I never met her officially. Saw her once or twice in passing. So, I can't say what she would want to do. You know her well. A lot better than me. Deep down you know what she would want."

"They weren't in the original Order in the First war. Do you know why that is?"

"I can take a wild guess."

"Because of me."

"Maybe. But also because your mother has fought her entire life. First, against her family and friends, their prejudices, their views and against herself. And then for her family and her own identity. She was probably sick of fighting. You can't really blame her."

"Maybe not," Tonks agrees but her tone suggests doubt. She absentmindedly reaches for her glass, that she has put on the arm of her armchair and promptly knocks it off. "Oh, shit. Sorry, I have none of the Black family finesse, you know," she says self-deprecatingly.

"Oh, stop that. You, Nymphadora Tonks, are an extraordinary person. You don't need any Black family finesse. Although you have some family traits you probably don't even know about. Your mother, she has raised you well. Her finesse has shaped you into a woman you are today. Be grateful."

"You are in a weird mood today," Tonks observes.

"Gotta love the holidays," she says and downs her drink, wishing for something stronger but not daring to get wasted as she can get quite unpredictable and she wants this one day to end well.

"You know, you are too," Tonks says earnestly.

"What am I?"

"A good person. A good woman." Eva raises a surprised eyebrow at her.

"You don't know me, Dora. You don't know the terrible selfish things I have done in my life."

"Maybe not. But I have gotten to know you a little. And what I know is one hell of a woman," she declares passionately. She hesitates then a little before plunging on. "You don't really believe you are only half the woman Lily was, do you?"

It is clear Eva is not the only person that keeps hearing those words in her head.

"You didn't know Lily. If you did, you wouldn't say that," Eva tells her with a sardonic laugh. If she were here, Lily would make everything right.

While Eva Marlowe wishes for just one more second with her dead friend, for a single moment jealousy rears its ugly head within Nymphadora Tonks. She likes Eva. And she knows, Eva likes her, considers her a friend. But she also knows, she will never be Lily. In Eva's eyes, she will always be lacking because of the simple fact that her name is not Lily Evans. And then shame comes for how can she be jealous of a dead woman. And how can she resent her when the mere mention of her name brings such raw pain to Eva.

Once again Tonks demonstrates her ability to let things lie and not to push or try to fix her when she says nothing further.

The kids return from St Mungo's strangely subdued and if she didn't hear Molly loudly blathering on about the barbaric muggle techniques, Eva would guess something is wrong with Arthur. She diplomatically avoids the woman as she doesn't want to discuss barbaric muggle medicine. She was after all the one to give Healer Pye a hint about stitches.

The rest of the day trickles by slowly and while Eva is grateful she doesn't have to scrub or dust or, god-forbid, bake, she kind of wishes she had something to do as endless eating and sitting around feels useless. She drinks so much eggnog, she starts feeling sick but still gets no kick from the sparse alcohol in the drink.

The feeling of lacking follows her late into the evening when she wanders into the drawing room where Harry sits in his new pyjamas with a book in his lap and Sirius is sprawled on the other side of the sofa with a magazine. To a casual observer they might be a picture of tranquillity but Eva notices none of them is fully focused. Harry fidgets restlessly and Sirius keeps stealing glances at him.

"Good book?" she asks and both of them look at her as she leans on the back of an armchair.

"Yeah. A present from Sirius and Remus. It will be really useful in planning lessons for Dum-" He stops abruptly looking from one adult to another in caution. Eva rolls her eyes.

"We know about your Defence group."

"Dumbledore's Army."

"Excuse me?"

"Its's what we named the group. It's just, Sirius said, that Fudge is afraid Dumbledore is assembling an army against him and it just seemed so fitting…" He trails off as Eva and Sirius continue to stare at him. "It's not as if we yell Dumbledore's Army through the halls. We use DA for short and is a very easy name and nobody knows what it means…"

"You call yourselves Dumbledore's Army," she states again then bites her lips to hide her smile but when she catches Sirius' eyes, none of them can help themselves as they burst out laughing. She cannot remember when was the last time she laughed like this, loudly and freely, her whole body shaking, clutching her stomach and tears springing to her eyes. Sirius laughs with her and after the initial shock Harry joins in too.

Eva collapses into the armchair, head hanging over one arm and her legs over another and lets giggles die slowly.

"So, I take it you like it?" she asks when they have all wiped tears from their eyes.

"Yes. I didn't think I would like teaching. I don't like all that attention usually. But it's… It's about the only reason I want to go back to Hogwarts." His voice gets bitter and Eva sits up, her feet on the floor, watching him sympathetically. She is not sure what to say to this and Sirius seem equally conflicted.

"Harry… I'm so sorry you are having such a hard time. Is Umbridge still bothering you?"

Something strange flashes in his eyes but it's gone before she can latch onto it.

"No, no. I keep my mouth shut and she doesn't give me detentions. It is easier to not say anything now that we have DA."

He goes on about the classes he plans and about the techniques he uses to teach and about his classmates' progress. Eva feels gratified to hear him talk about something with so much passion. He tells them about the weird girl with a tendency to tell uncomfortable truths that Eva likes without ever meeting her, about a boy that likes to take pictures of him, about his previous quidditch captain that keeps glaring at him since he got banned but still comes to DA, about a Ravenclaw girl with graceful hands and black hair, whose description makes Eva raise her eyebrows and Harry stutter, about a pesky Hufflepuff, who doubts his every word and enjoys challenging him, about a twin girl that has mastered an Impediment Jinx on her first try and about Neville Longbottom who has managed to finally disarm Hermione.

"Neville really improved so much. You should have seen him…"

Harry gets quiet suddenly.

"Harry?"

"We stopped at fourth floor at St Mungo's today," he says, giving her an imploring look.

"Oh." Without him telling her, she has a pretty good idea what happened.

"What's on fourth floor?" Sirius asks, figuring out something is going on.

"Spell damage," she answers but he still looks confused. "I make it a point to avoid the fourth floor," she tells Harry. It is just too sad. She then turns to Sirius, swallowing hard. "Frank and Alice."

It's all she has to say for him to get white as a ghost.

"Bellatrix," he breathes and she longs to tell him it is not his fault. But it's no use. He wouldn't hear her anyway. "She bragged about torturing them in Azkaban. But I never heard what happened to them. I assumed they were dead."

Harry is looking at Sirius with scared and sad eyes and Eva wonders if she should send him to bed. He shouldn't see an adult that is his guardian, fall apart.

"They aren't… But maybe that's even worse. Theirs is no life."

"Fate worse than death," mutters Sirius and she has to agree. Harry seems conflicted.

"I was jealous today," Harry declares. "I know his parents don't recognize Neville. Or anybody else. But at least they are alive. At least… He can hug them. And touch them. And he can look at them…."

The naked longing in his voice threatens to rip her open. If only she could give him that.

His words seem to wake Sirius from his stupor.

"No, Harry. No. I've seen what a Cruciatus curse does to a person. It would be way worse to see a shell of James walking around. His face vacant because there is nothing there." Sirius swallows hard and she has to look away.

"Sirius is right, Harry. It is fate worse than death. Those people on the fourth floor; they are not Frank and Alice. I knew Frank and Alice. Two of the kindest people I ever knew. Alice, she had a smile that could brighten your day. She shone like a beacon of light on her wedding day. And Frank, from the moment I first met him, he only ever had eyes for her. And now, nothing. Empty." She gets up and sits at his side on the sofa, so he is squeezed between her and Sirius. "I would do anything to see your mom again. But not like this. Because it wouldn't be her."

Harry nods as if he already knows all this. Knows but still longs for it.

"I know. Neville is as much an orphan as I am. I just wondered for a moment."

The word cuts deep into her. Orphan. Lily's son. An orphan. What a waste! Lily and James and Alice and Frank. The finest people she knew. Why did they have to die and leave two orphans behind? Why them and not her? It would be just so much easier, so much fairer if it were her and Sirius that died. And how were they supposed to replace his parents? They had no idea what they are doing. They had already let him down so much. All those could-have-been Christmases, that he had to spend with people that didn't want to waste their money on him.

Eva leans back onto the sofa with a sigh. Harry and Sirius do the same and for a while all three of them sit on that sofa in quiet camaraderie. And all of a sudden Eva realizes that's what she had been craving all day. It doesn't matter that they are all a bit depressed. She has waited for that moment. That moment where they are a family. Of course, nothing has changed; Sirius hates her, she is at times disgusted by him, Harry might never trust her, possibly not Sirius either and neither her or Sirius know how to handle an angsty teenager with the whole world upon his shoulders. And it's fourteen years too late. But all three of them are there, siting in the same room on the same sofa. And those feelings of loneliness and melancholy and nostalgia; it had been her wishing for this. Sitting there on that sofa was what she was missing. It doesn't even matter that they sit in partly uncomfortable silence with a bucketful of unresolved issues among them. They are a family. She belongs here. And Harry belongs with them.

It becomes all so clear to her; Lily and James didn't choose them to be his guardians because they thought them the most reliable and trustworthy people. They chose them to be his family. And by Merlin, she will do everything in her power to attest to this any way she can. She silently wows to be at his side until the day he won't need her anymore.