Lily and James had decided that in forming their new Christmas traditions as a family, they'd host a big Christmas Eve dinner with all their friends. Too much alcohol was poured and the smell of food began to waft from the kitchen just after five. Lily had expected a nice evening. All of their friends together, the sound of Christmas music playing, the sharing of holiday joy. What she'd been met with was quite different.

Marlene and Sirius refused to even look at each other, Emmeline and Gideon were bickering, Alice was in a panic that everyone knew she was pregnant and Lily had gagged every time she'd caught the scent of the cooking turkey. To put it simply, it was a disaster.

"Need any help in here?" Mary asked. She entered the kitchen with a glass of red wine in one hand and a look of desperation on her face. "I need to escape."

"Chop up the carrots the muggle way," Lily suggested. She liked that Mary understood those traditions. While it would be easier to use magic for half the meal preparation, Lily had always experienced Christmas in a very different way. She'd always wanted to make her own stuffing and throw together the traditional Christmas salad without any magical assistance.

"Leaving Reg in there to fend for himself?" Lily teased.

"Fabian and he are chatting about some old classmate, I was bored out of my mind."

Lily chuckled. Good old Fabian saving the day. It had been so long since Lily had spent any time with him – besides running into each other during Order meetings. Most of her information on the boy that she'd once been in a long-term relationship with came through Emmeline.

"Is he still seeing Everett?" Lily asked curiously as she stirred the mashed potatoes.

"No, they uh…did not quite work out."

"Shit, really?" Lily's stomach dropped. It had been nice to see Fabian so happy at the end of the year with someone he really loved. Lily had hoped despite the distance – Everett still being stuck in Hogwarts – they could make it work.

"I don't think Fabian's too broken up about it, he's the one who called things off. Emmy told me he was seeing another guy from his office for a while, someone older," Mary informed Lily with intrigue. "That withered out, though, and apparently," she lowered her voice so Lily needed to lean in closer, "he's got a new girlfriend now."

"What?" Lily gasped. It had been enough shock finding out her ex-boyfriend was into men but now having him revert back? The whole thing made her feel a little dizzy.

"I mean, you can't be too surprised," Mary shrugged, not bothered in the slightest by the whole thing. "You two dated for nearly a year, I don't think he's very picky when it comes to his partner's gender."

"He's happy, though?" It was all Lily thought was important. It didn't matter to her who Fabian loved as long as she could rest assured he was happy.

"Emmeline made it seem so."

"What are you two gossiping about?" Marlene entered the kitchen, arm linked with Alice.

"You and Black."

"Oh god," she groaned.

"He looks like a kicked puppy, I think he might get on his knees and beg for your forgiveness if you asked him to."

"He can keep pouting until he proves that he knows what he did was wrong."

"I agree," Lily said, rather uncharacteristically. She'd been horrified when Marlene had detailed to her the fight in Sirius' apartment. It was one thing for voices to rise, but to grow nearly physical; Lily had been giving Sirius the cold shoulder since she'd learnt about it. "He needs to learn to deal with his feelings instead of letting them bubble up and blow over."

"I appreciate the support," Marlene grinned, raising her glass as though in a toast.

"How about you, Al?" Mary asked casually.

"Does everyone know?" The witch gave in. all night Lily had watched in amusement as she pretended to drink cups of sherry but instead poured them into Frank's glass.

"It may have slipped to Reg," Mary admitted, not making eye contact. "And Emmeline…"

"I only told Sirius!" Marlene said in her defence.

"How on earth did you even know?"

"Overheard you asking for the pregnancy test."

"What about you?" Alice asked, turning towards Lily.

"Sirius told me, and the rest of the boys I believe."

"Marlene!" Alice cried at her friend.

"It's not my fault he's got a big mouth and a small brain!"

"Well that's it then, I suppose? Everyone knows I'm the idiot having a baby." Alice dropped into one of the chairs at the breakfast table; shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Excuse me? That's my niece or nephew you're talking about there," Marlene warned her friend. "They're not some idiotic mistake."

That brought a smile to Alice's lips, the rest of the girls chiming in with encouragement. So what if they were still young? There was no turning back the clock now; Alice was going to be a mother.


Sirius watched glumly from the living room as Marlene, and the rest of the girls, all giggled, setting the dining room up for the festive meal they were about the share.

"More alcohol is not going to make the situation better," Remus warned, taking a seat beside his old friend. Sirius shrugged, finishing off the rest of his cup.

"It'll make the night easier to get through."

"What happened anyway?" Remus asked. He watched with Sirius as Marlene swung her long blonde curls over her shoulder, a grin upon her freckled cheeks.

"The truth? I acted like a complete arse."

"Sounds about right," his friend laughed. Sirius glared at him but Remus' smile persisted.

"Piece of advice? Show her that you understand."

"How do you suggest I do that?"

"I'd try going for the source of the problem. She won't know you're sorry till you prove it." Remus gave his friend an encouraging pat on the back. They sat quietly for another few minutes, as Sirius' eyes remained firmly on Marlene, and eventually, Remus rose with a defeated sigh. He had not succeeded in his goal of distraction.

Sirius ignored the conversations that carried on around him. Talk of Quidditch and politics that seemed to whiz past him like smoke. Finally, unable to bear it anymore, he conjured himself up one more glass of Firewhiskey and rose from his seat to approach the enemy.

"I want to talk," he whispered in her ear.

"Not now."

"Two minutes."

Marlene looked around the room anxiously. Sirius knew she'd need to oblige to his request unless she wanted to make a scene in front of their friends. Noticeably irritated, Marlene left the room, Sirius following in her wake. The two of them went straight upstairs, Marlene pausing at the top of the landing with her arms folded. She didn't look the least bit impressed.

"I don't want to get into it here, Sirius—"

"I just want you to know that I'm sorry," Marlene's frown didn't seem to be improving. "And I miss you."

"I know." He didn't much like the look on her face as she said that. "But I think…maybe…" she took a deep breath, eyes closing for a moment as she thought hard about her next words.

"Maybe what?" he urged her.

"It's not enough."

"My apology isn't enough?"

"No. Not when you do it like this," she motioned towards the staircase which led to their friends downstairs. "You really expect me to accept a half-drunken apology forced upon me in the middle of a dinner party with our friends?" Sirius had to agree, it hadn't been his best idea.

"I didn't mean for it to come off that way-"

"That's the problem, isn't it? You never mean to do it, you just do."

It was rare for Sirius to find himself at a loss for words and yet, there he stood. He couldn't seem to open his mouth as Marlene stared at him, her blue eyes rounded in pain. He'd hurt her. Not just in a silly argument kind of way. He'd been cruel, something Sirius had worked very hard to avoid. For the first time he could remember, he saw his family in him.

"I don't want to spoil the party," Marlene told him, her tone softened. She turned for the stairs, Sirius stopping her just before she could step down.

"What does that mean then?" he asked. "Where does it leave us?"

"It means…" Marlene sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead. "I don't know. I don't know Sirius, I just...I can't do this right now." And with that she was gone, Sirius left to deal with the aftermath of their conversation.

He didn't much feel like joining the party himself. The thought of sitting in a room with his friends, all drunk and loved up, made him cringe. Instead, once Marlene had left, he snuck back down and made a silent exit from the party.


It was nearing midnight by the time the last guests left the Potters' home. Alone, James and Lily cosied up on their couch, drinking cups of eggnog as they watched the lights on the Christmas tree flicker.

"Any word on Sirius?" Lily worried.

"I'll be concerned if he doesn't show up for tomorrow morning as promised," James assured her, watching as the stress lines along her forehead smoothed out. "My guess is that it was all the stuff with Marlene that put him off."

"Do you think they're going to break up?"

James knew that Lily wasn't impressed with Sirius. Not after learning how terribly he'd spoken to her friend. He resisted the urge to say I told you so in light of the whole situation. It was the exact reason he'd tried so badly to keep the two apart – not that it had done anyone any good.

"All I know is that they're going to make everyone's lives bloody miserable for the next little while."

Lily sighed, pressing her lips to her husband's cheek. It was nice, James realised, not to have to worry about all that drama anymore. The uncertainty of what ground your relationship stood on, the terrible thought of an oncoming break up. He was glad to be able to wake up each morning next to Lily and know that this was forever.

"So," Lily spoke up, "there was a little tradition we had in my family each Christmas Eve. I was wondering if, maybe, you might humour me a little."

"Let's hear it." James smiled, watching his wife with curiosity. Lily stood up in front of him, as though about to embark on a long-winded speech.

"Well, it's going to seem kind of silly to you…"

"Spill it, Potter," he teased her with the use of her new surname.

"There's this movie, it's played on almost every channel Christmas Eve, it's a classic and each Christmas we'd all bundle up in the living room together and watch it."

"I suppose this means you'd like me to watch it with you now?"

"Well...it'd be nice…"

James nodded. He wasn't a big fan of TV. He found the static of the screen gave him headaches and the fast moving pictures made him feel as though his eyes were going cross. They'd purchased one anyway, for Lily's sake more than anyone. She turned to the device as an escape from what was happening in her world, an old comfort from her muggle lifestyle.

"Come on then," James shrugged. "Let's see this classic."

Lily's excitement was unmistakable as she scrambled to get the TV on and turn it to the right channel for the scheduled programming. She snuggled back up into James, his arm wrapped around her, as they watched an endless stream of commercials before the movie even started.

"Don't you guys get fed up with these?" James asked in awe. Five minutes in and he was already tired of it.

"Short term pain for long term gain," Lily reminded him.

"What's the name of this movie anyway?"

"It's a Wonderful Life."

Despite his initial opposition, James found himself enjoying the whole thing. The black and white film was much easier to swallow than the colour TV he was used to and Lily's frequent insertion of facts and background information on the story helped to keep him engaged.

"What an idiot," James teased, watching as George Bailey scrambled around Mary Hatch's home, acting as though he wasn't madly in love with her. "He might as well just accept it, he's mad for her."

"He's scared!" Lily reminded him. "She's the one with Sam Wainwright!"

"Please, Sam's trying to woo her, Mary is already completely committed to George."

James watched with satisfaction as George and Mary shared their first kiss, finally giving in to their true feelings.

"Kind of like our first kiss, huh?" James teased his wife, pressing his lips to her temple as she lay in his lap.

"If I remember correctly, our first kiss was in a dimly lit room and I was covered in blood?"

"Still pretty romantic, though."

"Oh yeah, despite both of us being in committed relationships and the fact that we thought there was no way in hell it would ever work, it was wildly romantic."

"We figured it out in the end, though," James reminded her, running his hands through her hair. "Even after all the denial."

They watched the rest of the movie just like that, bickering about storylines and characters the way only possible when you're truly enjoying a movie. By the time they reached the end of the film, in which George Bailey saw the true impact of his generosity, James felt tears streaming down his cheeks.

"It got you!" Lily cried out with joy. She sat up, staring her husband in the eye. "Isn't it beautiful?"

James couldn't help but think about his own life as he watched that final scene. Fighting in the war to him it was not about eternal glory. It was about changing the lives of those around him for the better. He wanted his house to fill with all the lives he'd touched; he wanted to be a force for good.

"Yeah," James smiled, kissing his wife. "It is."


Sirius found himself at the last place he ever expected to be on Christmas Eve, standing outside twelve Grimmauld Place. He stared at the home, not yet distinguished from the muggle residence, in disgust. He wasn't sure why he'd decided to show up yet something had dragged him here. Some strange impulse to understand the twisted family he'd come from.

Yet, he knew he couldn't move forward. If he stepped beyond the park he hid in, he'd be faced with the wrath of the Blacks. The cruel remarks and cold glares. It was unlikely he'd even make it past the front door.

Sirius wondered whether Regulus was in there now, laughing around the table with the lot of them, making jokes about muggle-borns and his traitor brother. It didn't matter how many times his brother tried to redeem his actions, they were unforgivable in Sirius' eyes.

"Looks as though we had the same idea."

Sirius jumped, startled by the presence of another. He spun around, expecting the unwelcome face of an old family member. While the face was familiar and related to him, Sirius was not filled with the same rage he'd expected.

"Andromeda," he sighed with relief.

"If you're avoiding seeing them you might want to choose a better hiding spot," she suggested.

She looked much as Sirius remembered her, except with shorter hair. She had the same sharp features as the rest of the Black family and the piercing eyes. Her black hair fell in thick curls, resting just above her shoulders. She held an eery resemblance to her sisters, Sirius nearly mistaking her for one of them.

"What're you doing here?" he asked after a warm embrace between the pair.

"Ah, well," she tucked her hands into her pockets, "it's a bit stupid really."

"Try me."

"My daughter asked me tonight why I don't have any parents." Sirius realised, with the crack in Andromeda's voice, that like him, his cousin had lost her family as well.

"How old is she now?"

"Five, if you can believe it. You should really come by sometime, meet her."

"I should," Sirius agreed. There were few members of his family he could understand but Andromeda was one of them. Truthfully, one of the only remaining members of the family he had.

"What about you? What got you returning to this hell hole?"

"A girl," Sirius admitted, slightly embarrassed.

"Really?"

"We got in a fight and I…" Sirius felt humiliated admitting the truth. He felt, as though once he said it out loud he would become one of them. Filled with bitterness and rage. He hated that he carried their surname with him wherever he went, a constant reminder of where he came from. "I was cruel," he admitted. "For the first time in my life, I felt like I was one of them."

"Come on," Andromeda encouraged, sticking her hand out for Sirius to take. "Let's go get a drink."

"But your daughter—"

"Is fast asleep. My husband thinks I rushed to the shops for a last minute gift. I haven't seen you in years, Sirius; let me get in a little time with the only member of my family that will talk to me." He couldn't argue with that. Andromeda led him down the road to an old pub, a sad joint open for those without a place to go on Christmas Eve.

The place was more packed than Sirius cared to admit. It was a sad sight, all the elderly men sitting around, drinking alone. A few young people who had clearly snuck away from their family for a few hours. Andromeda ordered them two pints and Sirius grabbed a table near the back where they wouldn't be heard by the muggles surrounding them.

"I don't know why I bothered coming here tonight," she told him. "I had this rage in me that I couldn't shake. I'm usually a very level-headed woman but…just thinking about my parents…their ability to just disown me..."

"Seems it's in the genes," Sirius cracked. He took a sip of his drink, watching the range of emotions – mainly anger – that reflected across his cousin's face. "What were you hoping would happen?"

"Some small part of me wanted to be brave enough to knock on that door. I thought that maybe if they just saw me, they could remember that all this blood nonsense is meaningless, especially when it comes to family."

Sirius shook his head. He'd spent sixteen years hoping one day his parents would just accept him as their son. He'd prayed that they'd loved him enough to let the politics go. Of course, that day had never arrived.

"How about you?" Andromeda asked. "How did a fight with your girlfriend bring you here?"

"Did I say she was my girlfriend?" Sirius nit picked.

"The guilt in your eyes tells me she's more than just another girl," Andromeda replied knowingly.

Sirius sighed heavily. He wished she were wrong there.

"For the first time in my life I reminded myself of my father," he admitted. The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. "I don't know what I think showing up here would do. I guess with a little alcohol in my system I didn't have the rational to realise how pointless it would all be." Andromeda frowned. "I mean, seriously? What did I expect them to do? Draw me in for a hug and tell me that I was going to be okay?"

"It's not an unfair expectation for your parents," his cousin told him.

"I left a rather large part of the story out as well," he said, grey eyes dropping with shame. "Well, the fight all stemmed from a surprise visit I got from Regulus."

"I see."

"He showed up at my place out of the blue. I walked in to find him standing in my living room, sucking up to Marlene-"

"McKinnon?" Andromeda exclaimed with surprise. "You're messing around with Maureen and Alfred's girl?"

"Not exactly my point right now..."

"Okay, so you walk in on him and Marlene chatting."

"I just...I went ballistic." He wasn't proud to admit it. It had taken all of two minutes after Marlene left his apartment to realise what a complete ass he'd been. "I've tried so hard to separate that old world from my new one…"

"And there he was trampling all over that," Andromeda understood. Sirius put his attention to his drink after that, taking a few healthy gulps back. "You know, it is possible that he just needed his big brother."

"No, it must have been something bigger than that to make him swallow his pride and show up on my doorstep. He's one of them, to be caught conversing with me…"

"It could cost him his life," Andromeda agreed, her face gone stern. "Unless his life was no longer much of a concern?"

Sirius shook his head. He couldn't believe that. Regulus was too cowardly to ever do something that might put himself at risk. Most likely he'd messed up somehow, run to Sirius for support and then realised that bridge had long ago been burned.

"What did you tell her?" Sirius asked, changing the subject abruptly. "When your daughter asked about her grandparents?"

"I told her they were dead. I thought that was easier…at least, better than knowing the truth."

"That they'd like to see her burned at the stake?"

"Something like that," Andromeda winced.

"You'll have to tell her one day when she's old enough to understand." Sirius resented the hell out of their family for that. Not only had it been painful to escape but now they were forced to carry the burden of their past for the rest of their lives. "You should be grateful that you got out Meda, we both should be."

"So then what the hell are we doing here?" His cousin laughed, motioning between their half-finished drinks.

"Feeling sorry for ourselves I suppose," he smirked. "Wishing we might be just a little wrong."

"You are wrong about something," Andromeda said with certainty, leaning in across the table. "You're not a bad person, Sirius Black. Whatever happened with you and that girl, the simple fact that you're out here trying to understand it, that you feel guilty for hurting her, it means you're good." She placed her hand on top of Sirius'. "You aren't your father," she promised. "You've got light in you."

Sirius pressed back into his chair, hands folded in front of him. He wanted her to be right. He wanted to know that he was never going to be that guy. But how could he be sure?


Frank ran his hand over Alice's still flat stomach, sighing with joy. It was Christmas morning and they were back in Frank's old bedroom, home to celebrate the holiday with Augusta.

"I can't believe there is a baby in there," Frank whispered as he pressed his lips to her neck.

"I can't believe in nine months I'm not even going to be able to see my toes."

He laughed, sliding down to lift up her shirt and leave a kiss on her stomach. Alice found it funny as she hardly felt she was pregnant. Aside from the morning sickness and the increased exhaustion she might've just mistaken it for a rough week at work.

"You know our baby has begun developing fingers and toes?" Alice informed her husband.

"Where did you learn that?"

"Mary gave me a book."

"Can I read it?" Frank asked. He caught Alice by surprise. It wasn't that she hadn't expected him to be a hands-on father, but she knew most men didn't usually find themselves shook by the reality of the situation (they would soon be responsible for a tiny life) until the final moment.

"Of course," she smiled, running her fingers through his hair.

They didn't have another second alone before Augusta came knocking on the door, beckoning them from their comfortable bed to come open gifts and drink tea.

Frank's aunt Ethel had come to stay for the holidays as well, bringing along her children and their families. The Longbottom home's living room was packed, everyone crammed around the tree as they exchanged presents.

Alice and Frank had decided to hold off announcing their happy news until the holidays. The Healer had warned them about the risk of miscarriage and neither had wanted to get the family's hopes up if it all went wrong.

"Mum," Frank spoke up halfway through the celebrations. "This one's for you." He passed Augusta a thin envelope, one that looked relatively meaningless. Alice, who sat in the armchair across from her mother-in-law, clutched her cup of tea anxiously. She hadn't a clue how she was going to react to the news. Joy? Disappointment? It wasn't an expected announcement.

The card appeared innocent enough, a simple Christmas message. Inside they'd included a family photo for her – something they knew she'd like – but it was the note they'd signed which was the important part.

"World's best... grandmother?" Augusta said out loud. The words didn't seem to quite register but with the help of a few moments, her jaw dropped.

"You two are having a baby?" She gasped. The whole room seemed to go quiet. Alice bit down on her lip, holding back the feelings that threatened to spill. Frank, who was closest to his mother, confirmed the news.

"Yeah, mum," he smiled. "You're going to be a grandmother."

Alice couldn't be sure of what emotions were floating across Augusta's face. Simply, she looked shocked. Clutching the card in her shaking hands she looked up at Frank and smiled.

"That's amazing." She got to her feet, wrapping her arms tightly around her son. "I'm thrilled."

It was as though everyone in the room breathed a sigh of relief. Alice found herself showered in hugs as everyone turned to congratulate the happy couple. There was a relief in no longer needing to hide their secret. With Alice far enough along, they could announce their news to the world.

Later, when the exchange of gifts had ended, Alice found herself alone in the kitchen with her mother-in-law, helping to prepare for the Christmas dinner they'd be having that night. Helping out in the kitchen for big family meals was a comfort to Alice. She'd assisted her mother with just that through much of her childhood and it was a happy tradition to continue.

"Alice," Augusta said quite abruptly. Alice had been in the process of mixing up the vegetables as they were sliced perfectly with the use of magic. "Are you scared?"

Alice was taken aback by the question. It was the first time anyone had had the guts to ask. Most people coated their judgment in fake excitement and joy for her news. It was rare for someone to notice the true terror that lay behind Alice's eyes.

"Yes," she admitted, her throat closing up. In an uncharacteristic gesture, Augusta reached out for her hands, squeezing them comfortingly.

"It's normal," she promised. "Eventually it fades into something a little different, they call it a mother's intuition." Alice laughed. "You'll be great at it Alice, truly."

"I'm not so sure," Alice fretted, hands running across her stomach. Would she do well as a mother? Meant to care for another's life? Alice wasn't prepared to give birth and then spend the next six months sitting back. She needed to fight. She needed to feel useful. Did that mean she might leave her child neglected?

"It comes naturally," Augusta promised. "The minute you hold that baby in your arms you understand why people do it."

It was the kind of thing Alice's mother might've told her. She would have wrapped her arms around Alice's shaking frame and told her what a privilege children were. She'd remind Alice how much joy she'd brought into the world and how much more her own child would bring.

Although not the hugging type, Alice wrapped her arms around Augusta, seeking comfort in her embrace. They stayed there for a while, soaking one another in.

"Will you promise me something?" Augusta asked softly.

"Of course."

"Don't let them be an only child. Fill that place up with children."

Alice thought she liked the sound of that.


Marlene, who was staying home for the Christmas holidays, was having a rotten time. She'd been faced with questions all day from her parents about why she wasn't bringing Sirius to Christmas dinner. Her mother had asked at least twice whether they'd broken up and Marlene could not miss the hint of excitement in her eyes – only making her feel worse.

She missed Sirius. She hated the fact that on the one day of the year meant to be spent with family she wanted him there. She wanted to watch Franny giggle as they played together and see him bond with her brother, teaching him about all the secret passages he could use in Hogwarts.

"Uh-oh," Amy chimed upon spotting her little sister out back with a cigarette in her hands.

"Don't tell—"

"Just because I'm a mum now doesn't mean I can't still be the cool older sister."

Marlene nodded with relief. She sat down on the small bench that rested along the edge of the garden, Amy joining her. She didn't say a thing for the first few minutes – a restraint Marlene appreciated – but after a while she seemed unable to hold back.

"What happened then?"

"It's complicated."

"Have you broken up?"

It was a question Marlene hadn't yet faced, not fully at least. She'd been hurt and, to be quite frank, scared. She'd seen Sirius blow his lid but never before like that, and never so cruelly directed at her. She tapped away the ash from her cigarette, watching it litter the perfectly white snow beneath her feet.

"Do you love him?" Amy asked when her first question got no response.

"It wouldn't all be so bloody complicated if I didn't."

"Can I ask you a bit of an intrusive question?" Amy requested. Marlene wasn't sure how much she liked the sound of that, shrugging in response. "Danny said something funny to me the other day, about how you used to sneak Sirius in here while you guys were still in Hogwarts?" The guilty look Marlene gave her sister answered the question clearly.

"Blimey," Amy said, in shock. "You two have been together all this time?"

"It's a little more complicated than that."

"Don't waste your time over thinking things," Amy warned her. "Not when we have such little of it."

Her sister headed back inside after that, leaving Marlene alone to smoke her cigarette. It reminded her of a conversation the two ladies had shared two years ago. Things had been so different then. Her sister had seemed boundless and Marlene's own life rife with change. Back then there'd been new love and the abundance of opportunity. There'd been Henry.

Nearly two years after his death Marlene found herself thinking of him more than ever. She wondered, especially when things were so rough with Sirius, what she could've had. Would she be happier, had Henry lived? Was that where she'd been destined to end up?

"Don't be an idiot sweetheart," she heard Henry's voice say. "We all know where you've always been destined to end up."