DISCLAIMER: The ideas are mine, the characters, sadly are not.

"Millions of people live their entire lives without finding themselves. But it is something I must do."

Marilyn Monroe

Chapter 6 - 1962, Christmas

I love Christmas. It's my favourite time of the year.

When my sisters and I were little, our parents would host a grand Christmas party for all of our relatives every year on Christmas Eve. We had a tall Christmas tree decorated with magic lights, and festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls. Enchanted musical instruments played traditional carols and everybody had a good time. The dinner was spectacular, and it had all my favourite foods. Roast turkey, pork chops, mashed potatoes, boiled vegetables, a thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce. Every year, the house-elves outdid themselves.

Christmas Eve was the only night in the year – apart from New Year 's Eve – when my sister's and I were allowed to stay up past our bedtime. We anticipated that day for weeks, and when December the 24th finally came, we could barely contain ourselves. We usually had snow – it started around mid-December – and we spent all day outside, going on toboggan rides and fighting with snowballs. We built snowmen sometimes, and Andy was the most creative of the three of us. I remember one time she built a snow hippogriff, complete with a beak and a pair of wings.

The guests started to arrive after dusk.

Uncle Orion and aunt Walburga were always the first to arrive, so they could assist our parents with the final preparations. Bellatrix, Andromeda, Sirius and I (and Regulus too, when he got old enough) immediately started to make our way through a stack of wizard crackers, and when we got bored we would go upstairs to one of the large windows to watch everyone else as they arrived. Wizards and witches from all over Britain, and sometimes even farther than that, arrived in colourful robes, one after the other. Some apparated close to our front door. Some flew in broomsticks, and a few used elaborate carriages that exuded magic with every sound they made.

We had so many relatives, and each of us had our favourites. Andromeda and Sirius often gravitated towards uncle Alphard. Uncle Alphard didn't look anything like his brother and sister. The three of them had the beautiful dark features of the House of Black, but our father and aunt Walburga carried themselves with elegance and formality, whilst their middle brother could not possibly care less. Every Christmas aunt Walburga got him clothes. A beautiful silk tie one year. A brand new set of dress robes the next. Nevertheless, most of the time uncle Alphard wore blue jeans and a white t-shirt, much to his sister's dismay. He rode a large motorcycle, which my father greatly disapproved of, no matter how many times uncle Alphard insisted that it was a magic motorcycle, because of the enchantments he'd cast upon it. Muggle vehicles can not fly, he pointed out, but it was little consolation to his siblings.

Looking back, it's not difficult to understand why Andy and Sirius liked him so much. He had taken Muggle Studies when he was at Hogwarts, and he claimed to have used much of what he learned at that class during his travels around the world. They loved hearing his adventures. He was older than our father, but he seemed much younger and he also seemed freer. He never married, although it would be many years before I found out why. I think uncle Alphard never had as much pride as he should have, and he felt as trapped by his birth and his name as my sister did. I think he walked the line between doing what he wanted and not offending the family too much for as long as he could. I often wished Andy could have walked that line forever, but I suppose it never lasts.

Bellatrix, on the other hand, never had much use for uncle Alphard's company. She loved to spend time with great-aunt Cassiopeia during those large family gatherings. Cassiopeia Black was an impressive woman. She was grandfather Pollux' younger sister and she was the first witch to be accepted as a member of the Magical Society of Transfiguration. She was also a poet. Her works were considered too far from tradition for most of her life, and it was only a few months after her death that she began to achieve some recognition. I was cynical about the value of her poetry, and for a long time, I believed that the adulation she received after her death was due to her death. It was only when I read her journals (she journaled her entire life) that her poetry became comprehensible to me. I deeply regret having missed the opportunity to get to know her.

My older sister, however, committed no such oversight. She admired Cassiopeia a great deal, and it was not lost on Bella that our great-aunt would probably not have gone as far as she did if she were married. I think Bella wanted to be like her. Bella wanted to accomplish great things, and she felt as trapped by being a woman as Andromeda felt trapped by being a member of the House of Black.

My favourite person was Uncle Ignatius. I looked forward to his arrival every year, because he always brought the most magnificent presents, like beautiful wooden trains that puffed colourful smoke rings and large life-like dolls that sang and danced as if they were human. Even the grown-ups were charmed by his presence. He always told beautiful fantastic stories in theatrical tones and he added sparks, explosions, sounds, and colours at the right moments, which made his stories that much better.

He always saved the most beautiful doll for me. He used to kiss me in my forehead whenever he greeted me, placing his hands on each side of my face.

I suppose I really did want love more than anything else in the world. Does that make me the weakest of us? Shouldn't I know that by now?

Author's Note: It's December of 2019, and I am finally back to this story. Christmas is in a few days, and I am sitting in front of my Christmas tree as I finish this chapter.

The descriptions of the party are inspired by the first scene in the Nutcracker.

The Nutcracker is the first ballet I remember watching in a theatre. It was only a few years ago, and I remember how breathtaking it was to watch to the first scene: The snow falling on the stage while the guests arrived for the Christmas party, and then the dance at the party itself, the music, the colours, the towering Christmas tree... I loved how the characters interacted with each other, and the way Herr Stahlbaum and Herr Drosselmeyer kissed Clara softly on the forehead when she greeted them... I used all of those elements in this chapter.

Thank you for reading, please consider reviewing to let me know your opinion about the story so far. I am looking for a beta-reader for this story, so, if you are interested, please PM me. The next chapter will be up in the next few days.

Merry Christmas, and Live Long and Prosper