CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Jane and Remus, luckily, were good enough friends to let what had happened go without further mention of it. They had both agreed to keep it between them; though, admittedly, Jane had written to Sarah about it, not that Sarah could really tell anyone about it anyway. Sarah had somewhat scolded Jane when she had told her about that night.
I can't believe you did that! Sarah had written. She had even called the boys "bad influences," which Jane told her was untrue.
Jane had been doing better on her letter writing to Sarah, though not as good as she could've done. But none of that mattered today because December twentieth had finally come to pass, and she was on the Hogwarts Express back to London.
Sirius and James told Jane to keep practising her flying over the break. She then reminded them that she couldn't very well fly around her Muggle neighbourhood on a broom; it might turn some heads and prompt unwanted questions.
The school year was going by so fast already, too fast for Jane's liking. If time kept going this fast, it'd be summer again in no time, and she'd be bored out of her skull once again. Lately, she had found herself longing to stay at Hogwarts more and more. Of course, this was always followed by a lot of guilt. Sarah was always so anxious to see her, but Jane just didn't want to go home. She did miss Sarah and her mum and dad but maybe not as much as she thought she should have. Jane didn't like thinking about it; it made her feel like a bad person.
Jane had talked to Lily and Remus about it; they knew exactly how she felt. She was happy that she wasn't the only one that felt this way. It made her feel like it was a normal thing, and she felt a little less guilty for it and a little less alone.
"I can't believe it's almost Christmas," James said, stretching out his legs, accidentally kicking Peter in the process.
"I know," said Sirius, who was going home with James again, "time just flies by nowadays, doesn't it?"
Jane nodded in agreement. Then, she thought about the argument she had had with her mother the last time she'd seen her. She wondered if her mum remembered it. She wonder if her mum would bring it up. Had she told Jane's father? None of their letters had mentioned it, but what if they were waiting to talk with her about it in person? Jane didn't know why she was thinking about it out of the blue; she just was. She did that sometimes, got off on a tangent in her brain, remembering things that happened, imagining things that would.
"So, what's your family planning for the holidays?" Remus had asked Jane. She shook out of her reverie and shrugged.
"I don't know. Christmas tree, presents, that's it really," she said. James looked almost jealous.
"You don't have family reunions with cousins and stuff?" he asked. Jane shook her head.
"Haven't got any cousins or aunts or uncles," Jane said; her parents were both only children.
"What about grandparents?" James asked.
"Mum's parents died when I was little, and Dad's parents don't talk to him because he married my mum. They're really snobby from what I gather. I don't really know. I've never met them."
"You're so lucky," James said. "Mum likes to throw a big family party every Christmas. Only it's not just family; it's people from all over."
Jane just laughed. She didn't think that sounded like too bad of a time but decided not to voice this.
"Well, at least Sirius gets to endure the torture with you," she said.
"Hey, as long as it's not my family, I'm not complaining," Sirius said.
"I'm just excited for the food," Remus said. "It's my favourite part of Christmas."
Jane laughed as the boys all talked about their favourite and least favourite things about the holidays. When it came to her, she just shrugged. Christmas was Christmas. She didn't hate anything about it, but she didn't especially have anything that she absolutely loved about it either. It was just another day, except that she got presents and better food. She had enjoyed it a lot more when she was a little kid. It had lost its magic.
That was exactly Jane's problem. That was why she didn't especially care for going home nowadays. Home was nothing new to her. She didn't hate it, but it wasn't her favourite place either. If she took someplace like Hogwarts or Hogsmeade, Jane could think of twenty different things that she loved about the place off the top of her head. Home had no magic. Home was just—boring.
Once again, Jane felt guilty. Guilty because hanging out with Sarah and spending time with her family shouldn't be "boring." It was something that she should look forward to, but she just didn't, not like she used to.
When the train came to a stop, Jane hugged her friends goodbye and walked through the barrier. She spotted her father. However, her mum was not with him. Jane didn't say anything about it until they were in the car.
"Where's Mum?" she asked, already knowing the answer.
"She's sick," he said.
"When'd that happen?"
"A few days ago."
"Of course," Jane said disdainfully, shaking her head and looking out of the window. Her father glanced at her but didn't say anything.
"Doesn't it ever get on your nerves?" Jane asked. "I mean, she does this all the time! It's kind of annoying really."
Her father shook his head.
"She's sick, Jane."
Jane let out a bitter, humourless laugh.
"If she's so sick then why doesn't she just go see a doctor already?" she pressed.
"You don't understand—"
"Yes, I do," Jane argued. "I understand that she chooses to not get help. And I understand that that's a completely selfish thing to do when you have responsibilities."
It had been years, and Jane had never spoken her mind about her mother's illness until now. She could feel the adrenaline pumping through her again; she knew her father hated talking about this. She wanted to see what his limits were.
"Your mother's not selfish," he said calmly. Jane scoffed.
"Yes, she is! I can't believe you just said that! After you've practically begged her to get help, how can you even say that? She is so selfish!"
"That's enough, Jane. You shouldn't talk that way about your mother," he said. Jane made a disparaging noise.
"What? I can't tell the truth?" she said sarcastically.
"I said that's enough!" he said, looking at his daughter. Jane visibly rolled her eyes.
"What has gotten into you?" he demanded to know.
"Nothing," Jane mumbled, looking back out the window.
When they got home, Jane went straight up to her room and packed some clothes. She walked out of her room and down the stairs, still in a foul mood. Her mother hadn't even come out of her room when they'd arrived home.
"I'm going to Sarah's," she called to her father as she reached the bottom of the stairs.
"You just got home," he said.
"Yeah, so?"
"Did you at least say hello to your mother?"
"She could say hello to me if she really wanted to," Jane said.
"Go tell your mother that you're home," he told her.
"Why?"
"Because she misses you!"
"Doesn't seem to act like it," Jane retorted.
"Stop it, Jane."
"Stop what?" she asked, smirking a bit.
"Just go tell your mother hello," her father said in an exasperated tone. Jane huffed and walked back up the stairs. She opened the door to her parents' bedroom to find her mother sleeping soundly.
"Hey, I'm home," she said quickly before shutting the door again. She turned to see her father.
"Jane," he said in a warning tone.
"What?" Jane said. "I did what you told me to; I can't help it that she's asleep all the time."
Jane slipped past her father and back down the stairs.
"Jane, come back here," he called after her.
Jane walked straight out the door, pretending that she hadn't heard him. As she walked down the street to Sarah's house, she grinned to herself.