Disclaimer: All rights go to JK Rowling. Anything you don't recognize is mine.
Updated as of 7/25/2019.
Chapter Twenty
The Invitation
20 December 1975
Dearest Prongs,
It's been approximately 48 hours since we departed from Platform 9 ¾, and I am utterly bored. I've been hiding out in my room since we've gotten back, mostly to avoid Mother's incessant cursing and nagging. I think Father's gone through about four bottles of firewhiskey in the meantime, and I'm starting to worry about his liver. Not really. I'd find it ironic if he died from alcoholism, so cheers to that.
Anyway, enough about my dazzling home life and charming family. I was actually writing to you to see if you had heard from Cassie at all. I told her to write me if things got rough over at her place, but I was thinking about it and maybe thought she had misunderstood it to mean that she could write any of us? I'm sending letters to Moony and Wormtail, as well, but I just wanted to be sure. You'd tell me if she wrote you, yeah?
Yours truly,
Padfoot
21 December 1975
My darling Padfoot,
I can't believe it's taken this long for you to write me! Honestly, mate, usually I receive a letter from you within the first 24 hours! This is truly unacceptable.
Dad's been busy at the office most of the time, which means Mum is making me clean and help her prepare for Christmas dinner (and before you ask, yes, we'll be saving you leftovers). Dunno why she's making me do all this, though; I mean, we have a house-elf for a reason, but I guess she likes to feel good about herself during the holidays or whatnot. Speaking of which, my parents are fine with you coming to stay with us after Christmas again. Mum says you can stay however long you like, too.
And before you jump down my throat about it, no, I haven't heard from Cassie. Has Moony replied yet? If she were to write any of us, it might be him. (And Pads, just a little word of advice…don't sound so desperate next time, yeah?)
Let me know whether you can stay or not! I'll try and get Moony and Wormtail out here, too, that way the whole gang's here.
Best,
Prongs
21 December 1975
Dear Padfoot,
I thought we agreed that you would at least try to use Muggle mail when you wanted to write me? Your owl scared the living daylights out of my mum, and now she keeps looking at the kitchen window like she's afraid something's going to come through it and eat her.
Sorry to hear about your mum and dad; they're both slimy gits anyway, so it's probably best you stay clear of them (and please don't let them find out what I just said about them). Did Prongs write you about spending the rest of the holidays at his place? My mum doesn't really like the idea of me leaving so soon after Christmas, but she usually listens to me, so I'll probably end up going, anyway.
I haven't heard from Cassie, either. Sorry, mate. You sure she hasn't written you yet? (Also, are any of you getting her something for Christmas? I want to, but if the rest of you aren't, I don't think I will. It'd be a bit awkward you know?)
Anyway, happy holidays, and see you soon!
From,
Wormtail
22 December 1975
Padfoot—
Sorry it took a couple days for me to reply. I had to finish up Christmas shopping with my mum and dad and I still wasn't feeling too well after my transformation. I feel fine now, don't worry—we don't need another rescue mission from second year.
I'm assuming Prongs already wrote you about all of us getting together at his place after Christmas. Wormtail thinks he can make it, and my dad said I could go as long as I get all of my holiday reading done first, which shouldn't be too hard—I'm already halfway done with it, and I think it's actually quite interesting. (I'm not even going to bother asking if you've already started; we both know you'll wait until the night before to do it.)
Pads, I'm sure Cassie's fine. She hasn't written me, either, but that's a good thing, right? If she was in trouble, she definitely would've contacted us already. And if I'm being honest, I think you're a bit too paranoid right now. Cassie's family isn't yours—from the few times we talked about it, she seems to really like her mother, and though she has to tread carefully around her father, she doesn't seem to believe that he's all that bad. The only person we should be wary of is Will, but no one's heard anything about him in weeks, and Cassie would have told us if he was back, I'm sure of it.
Speaking of Cassie, are you getting her anything for Christmas? Wormtail said he was thinking about it, but I think it'd be nice if all of us got a little something for her.
Anyway, I need to go, but I'll see you in a few days, all right?
—Moony
Sirius sighed and crumpled up the letter, tossing it into the bin where all his other letters had gone since he'd arrived home. Besides the ones from the other Marauders, the rest were tinted slightly pink and smelled like the nauseating aroma of roses, and he had taken extra care to avoid those.
He had been hoping that with some distance Marlene would back off for a bit, but if anything, their time apart was simply reinforcing her need to pervade every aspect of his life. He cast a disdainful look at the ring sitting atop his dresser, an early Christmas present that had arrived with one of the letters, and he realized with a sinking feeling that he was going to have to break things off with the persistent witch. Usually, he opted for the easier route of ignoring his exes until they inevitably drifted apart, but that obviously wasn't going to work with Marlene.
He laid back on his bed and rubbed his hands over his face, already dreading what such a confrontation would bring, for he had at least some tact in choosing not to dump her via owl. He winced when he wondered how Cassie would react to him breaking up with one of her best friends before he pushed that thought to the side, the gnawing worry that started up every time he thought of the dark-haired witch kneading at his insides again.
He knew he should be relieved that Cassie hadn't written him; after all, it was exactly as Remus had said. If she was in trouble, they would've heard from her by now. But he still couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Or maybe you were just hoping that she'd write you because you just wanted to talk to her, a tiny voice suggested. Sirius scowled, batting that thought away. It wasn't as if two weeks was an exceptionally long time for them to not see each other. Before this year, he had barely even been aware of her existence—he should be used to not being around her, right?
It's this bloody house, he realized, staring at the dark ceiling above him. 12 Grimmauld Place was far from cheery, and even further from feeling even remotely like a home to him. Here, he was trapped. Alone and locked away in his room, decorated so it felt like even the tiniest sliver of home, which was his dormitory in Gryffindor Tower. The one place he felt like he belonged.
That was it, he thought. He was lonely, and even though he was going to see his mates in a few days, he couldn't help but wish that Cassie would be there with them. There was something about her that seemed so…natural. Like she was supposed to be where he was, like she fit into their group like a puzzle piece they never knew they needed.
He thought about the last time he had seen her that day on the train, how she had laughed at all of their stupid jokes in the compartment, her fair cheeks stained permanently red from her mirth. And then how worried she'd been when he'd confronted her in the corridor, his fingers curled over the tops of her shoulders and her breathing moving her body under his hands. He saw her anxious eyes one last time on the platform, her face tight with apprehension, and he'd thought about running to her then, though the presence of his mother had kept him from doing anything rash. Looking back on it, he wished he had run to her, though. At least then she would have kept him away from this bloody family.
There was a soft knock on his door—two raps that barely sounded over the blaring of his Muggle rock music (he had been sure to pick the loudest record, just to piss off his mother), but he instantly knew who it was. His mother had the nasty habit of pounding on his door with her bony knuckles and screaming when she wanted him to come out, and considering his father never came up to his room, he knew it had to be his brother.
After debating for a few moments whether he wanted to answer or not, he finally sighed and trudged over to the door and opened it, looking down into the face of his brother as he stood there uncertainly.
"No, I'm not going to turn down my Muggle filth, Reg," he said before his brother could even open his mouth. "Now, if that's all—"
Sirius made to close the door, but Regulus pushed back on it, scowling. "That's not what I was going to say, you idiot!"
Sirius stopped attempting to shut the door, instead holding it ajar and rolling his eyes. "Then what the hell do you want?"
"To come in," he said, arching an imperious brow, and Sirius scoffed, though he stepped away to allow him entry.
Regulus brushed past him and leaned against the black wardrobe set up against the far wall, casting a distasteful look to the beat-up record player he had found in one of their Muggle neighbors' trash bins that was currently blaring Deep Purple.
"I don't understand how you can listen to this rubbish," Regulus said, nearly shouting to be heard over the music.
"It's called rock 'n' roll, Reg," Sirius said, brushing his hair out of his face and sitting on his bed again, "and it's the future, let me tell you."
"It's a menace to my eardrums, is what it is," he replied, sniffing, and Sirius cracked a small grin before waving his hand to him.
"All right, Reg, if you didn't come to complain about my music, then why are you here?" he asked.
Regulus cast an anxious look to the door before turning up the volume on the record player. Sirius watched him in confusion, wondering what his brother was doing as Regulus leaned forward, his eyes serious.
"I was down in the drawing room a few minutes ago," he began, and Sirius had to strain to hear his voice over the music, watching his lips form the words so he wouldn't be completely lost. "I heard Mother and Father talking about that new friend of yours, Alderfair."
Sirius was instantly on high alert, sitting up straighter and staring at his brother as he leaned closer. "What were they saying?"
"Nothing too important," Regulus said hastily, casting another look to the door. "They were just saying how they should invite the Alderfairs over for Christmas dinner." Sirius frowned, his fingers digging into the side of his mattress as he thought before Regulus continued.
"And before you get any ideas in your head, they didn't sound interested in your girlfriend," he said, rolling his eyes. Sirius's head snapped up at this, his mouth opening in protest, but Regulus talked over him. "They were talking about her brother a lot, though, and what he was doing in his campaign with the Dark Lord."
Sirius snorted, running a hand through his hair as he sat back, scowling. "Of course they were," he said scathingly. "They're probably wondering where they should go to sign you up."
There was a heartbeat of silence until Sirius realized what he had just said. He winced, looking up to Regulus guiltily. "Reg, hey—"
"No."
It was one word, but it sounded so cold, so flat, that Sirius couldn't help but to shrink back a bit from his brother's tone. Regulus stood completely straight, his hands curled into fists so tightly that his knuckles were slowly turning white. His face, however, was flaming red with anger, and his eyes had become glittering chips of ice, cutting into Sirius like the sharpest blade.
"No," he repeated, and Sirius saw that his brother was trembling. "You don't get to say that and then turn around and blow it off like it was nothing." Regulus's voice was harsh, and Sirius distantly wondered if he had ever heard him sound so detached, his fury all but numbed out of his voice. "Is that all you think I'll ever be, Sirius? Is some fucking Death Eater?"
Sirius stood from his bed abruptly, easily looming over his younger brother as he stared into the cold depths of Regulus's eyes, simultaneously shocked and furious.
"Well, with the people you hang around with now and what they're into, you can't blame me for being cautious," he snapped. Regulus's angry scowl turned into a sneer.
"Admit it, Brother," he hissed, coming to stand before Sirius until they were practically nose-to-nose. "That's exactly what you're afraid of, isn't it? You preach about how much you care about me, but you do nothing but hide and run out the door the first chance you get—"
"I do care, you moron!" Sirius snarled, jabbing his finger into his brother's chest and forcing him back a step. "All my life I've spent looking out for you—"
"Like hell!" Regulus said, his usually low voice raised in a shout. "As soon as I became a snake you dropped me in favor of your mangy half-blood friends and that blood traitor Potter—"
"Don't say a word about my mates!" Sirius roared, pushing his brother back until he hit the wardrobe. "They're twice the decent human beings your Muggle-hating friends are—"
Regulus shoved him, hard, and sent him staggering back a step, staring at him with red eyes while Sirius regained his balance, cursing.
"See?" he cried, pointing accusingly at Sirius. "This is exactly what I mean! You don't care, you never did—all you sodding care about is how much time I have left until I join up with the Dark Lord! Admit it!"
"Have you not been listening to anything I've been saying?" Sirius shouted. "You're my brother, Reg! You're the only bloody person in this damned house I care about! And I'm not—I won't lose you—"
"Lose me to what?" The deathly cold voice was back. Regulus stared at him as if he had never seen him before. He gave a dry, brittle chuckle, shaking his head when Sirius glowered at him. "C'mon, Sirius; you were just saying it. Lose. Me. To. What?"
"Get out," Sirius snapped. "We're done here."
"Whatever you say." Regulus shrugged, walking to the door while another guitar solo wailed from the record player, the only sound in the otherwise silent room.
"Oh, and Sirius?"
He didn't turn around, but Regulus's eyes bored into the back of his head. He grit his teeth.
"I'd keep an eye on your girlfriend if I were you," he said. Sirius froze, his muscles tensing as he finally turned to look at his brother standing in the doorway, one hand on the knob while he smirked at his older brother, his eyes cold. "I wouldn't want one of my mates to catch her alone when we get back to school after all the poking around she's been doing."
"Is that a threat?" Sirius said, his voice dangerously low. Regulus smirked at him again.
"Now, I never said that, did I?" He gave him one last cheery wave before he was gone, shutting the door behind him with an audible snap and leaving Sirius more alone than he ever had been at Grimmauld Place.
19 December 1975
Cass the Sass,
Exactly 16 hours have passed since we last saw each other, but I have to say: I MISS YOU! Of course, I miss Lils and Mar, too, but they weren't the ones who sat in the Hospital Wing with me for those two weeks in first year when I had dragon pox. Plus, you're the only person who can adopt a tree for a pet and not weird me out by it, so yeah, I miss you the most.
I don't have a lot to talk about, considering we just saw each other…OH! I almost forgot to tell you! Frank invited me over to his house for New Year's! Isn't that exciting? He asked me yesterday as we were leaving the station—he was so sweet about it! You have GOT to help me get ready. I already have a few outfits in mind, but I'll send pictures for you the day before so you can help me decide. (How you can pick the perfect outfit for me but refuse to do the same for yourself will forever amaze me, by the way.)
Anyway, I'll talk to you soon! Hope everything is going all right over at your place!
Yours truly,
Alice the Chalice
P.S. Mum and Dad are baking pumpkin bread for you—I'll send it along with Hera in a couple days xx
21 December 1975
Dear Cassie,
How are you? It's been snowing here like mad! Daddy's already had to shovel the driveway twice—Mum says it's useless, since the snow will just come right back, but he insists, and Merlin knows he's too stubborn to stop. Tuney's being unbearable, as usual. She's got a boyfriend now; his name's Vernon, and he's the most dreadfully boring person on the planet. And he's very standoffish; not at all a gentleman, but Tuney's very smitten with him (gag). He's coming over for Christmas dinner, which means Tuney has gone absolutely starkers and keeps telling me that if I show any signs of magic, she'll bury me in all that snow to where no one can find me. (I haven't bothered to tell her that I can't do magic outside of school, but what she doesn't know won't hurt her, yeah?)
Honestly, I'm a bit worried about Sev, too. I know you and he haven't gotten the opportunity to talk much, but I hope you can find some sympathy for him. He's been different ever since this year started, and it's really starting to concern me. He's been very moody and lashing out more, and I don't know what I can do to help him other than just be there for him. Hopefully it's just a phase, but I think having him around more during the holidays should help his spirits, don't you think?
Speaking of holiday spirits, I hope everything is okay with you. I was reading the Daily Prophet last night and there was a mention about your brother in one of the articles. I never got a chance to read the whole thing through (I always have to hide them whenever Tuney's around or she'll get mad) but now I can't find it, so I don't know what was in it. Do you?
Hopefully we'll talk soon, but until then, have a good holiday and Happy Christmas!
With love,
Lily
22 December 1975
Dear Cassie,
UGH, I MISS YOU ALL SO MUCH! Late night boy talks would be so much easier if we were all actually together!
While on the topic of boys, have you heard from Sirius at all? I know the two of you are friends, so I just wanted to be sure. He hasn't responded to any of my letters—not even the one where I sent him the promise ring as his present! (Dramatic sigh.) Boys. Don't ever get involved with them, Cassie. They're nothing but stress and heartache.
But anyway. How are you? Hope your holiday is going well so far! You can expect my present soon. I think you're going to like it…
Love you bunches, and you'll be sure to tell me if Sirius writes you, yeah?
xoxo,
Marlene
22 December 1975
Cass—
Hello? Are you even alive? You haven't responded to me at all!
Don't even think about eating any of that bread until you write me back, missy, understand? And if you don't respond before Christmas Eve, we are going to have serious issues, got it?
Love you, even though you're IGNORING YOUR BEST FRIEND!
—Alice
22 December 1975
Cassie,
Hey. It's Sirius. How are you doing?
Look, I don't want to make this all about myself or make you feel uncomfortable, but…things are pretty shit here. I won't go into detail, but I just needed to write to someone, you know? And I've written about a thousand copies of this same letter to send to James or Remus or Peter, but for some reason I could never finish them. But then I thought of you and everything became so much easier. Stupid, right?
Anyway, I think where I'm going with this is that I need to know if you're all right and not having a horrible time like I am. And if everything is fine, that's great! Sirius-ly (haha). But if not… then I'm here. Maybe my emotions are speaking for me after the row I just had with my brother, but I miss you, Princess. Who else am I supposed to mess with if you're not here?
Another thing, though, and I don't know if you know yet, but my parents are inviting yours over for Christmas dinner. And as much as I hate myself for asking you this…if I invited you, would you come with them? I despise knowing that you'll have to meet my insufferable family, but having you here would at least make the night more bearable. And don't feel obligated to come just because I asked you. Merlin, I would hate that. But I would also really like it if you came, nonetheless.
Send your reply back with Perseus (and I'm sorry if he bites you—he gets a bit excited sometimes). Hope you're having a good holiday, Cass.
Yours,
Sirius
Cassie put down the letter with a sigh, subtly moving away from the handsome black owl perched on her windowsill after reading through Sirius's warning about it biting.
Dusty evening light spilled into her room through the open window, giving the place a dreary layer of grey as she sat upon her bed, still holding the letter in her hands.
She cast a look to the large mahogany desk set up in the corner, her eyes raking over the unanswered letters she had from Alice, Lily, and Marlene with a guilty twinge. It wasn't as if she were avoiding them all; she simply had nothing to talk about. After all, what could she say?
Hey, sorry I haven't answered. Besides the fact that my brother showed up out of the blue after being on the run from torturing Muggles and my father cleared his name with the Ministry a few days ago, leaving him innocent and free to attack again, everything has just been peachy! My father's been ignoring me, my mother's never home, which means I'm left avoiding my Death Eater brother like the plague, and I couldn't be happier! Christmas cheer is in the air and I can't wait to make cookies with my brother and pretend that everything is all right!
Yeah, she thought wryly, because that would go over really well.
She'd practically locked herself in her room since returning home, only emerging to go to the bathroom at night when she was sure everyone else was asleep. She'd even ordered Liddy to bring her meals privately, and she ate in solitude, surrounded by the same four walls she had had since she was a child.
The room was mostly bare, considering most of her things were still hanging in the dormitory at Hogwarts, except for the few items she couldn't bring with her, such as the huge framed paintings of prowling griffins and flying ravens that she had adored when she was younger. The walls were white, but decorated with blue and bronze flowers—a remnant from her days when she was convinced that she was going to be a Ravenclaw that she hadn't the heart to change, even when she had become a Gryffindor and grown up.
A large bed canopied by white silk curtains dominated most of the room, with an expensive feathered rug beneath it that contrasted with the dark wooden floors, made of the same mahogany as her desk and every other piece of furniture in the room. Large windows offered a plethora of light and lovely views of the countryside, but with the wintry twilight gloom outside, they just made everything look depressing. It was a grand room, to be sure, but she felt lonelier than ever when she was in it. She longed for the warmth and comfort her dormitory in Gryffindor Tower brought her, away from the mess that had ensnared the Alderfair household upon Will's unexpected arrival.
The last time Cassie had seen him was the night he had appeared on their doorstep. After his cryptic greeting, he'd asked to speak with their father alone in his study; she'd had no idea why then, but after reading the article Lily had spoken about in the Daily Prophet, she had understood.
WILLIAM ALDERFAIR'S NAME CLEARED IN MUGGLE ATTACK INVESTIGATION the headline had blared, and it had been with a sick, sinking feeling in her chest that she had read the rest:
On Monday morning, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Bartemius Crouch, reported in an exclusive statement with the Daily Prophet that all charges being held against Wizengamot member Lukas Alderfair's son have been dropped concerning the Muggle attack that took place in Cokeworth nearly two months ago.
"The evidence that had previously been pointing to William Alderfair as a suspect for the crime has been reviewed and labeled as circumstantial," Crouch told reporters, alongside several somber-looking Ministry officials. "Eyewitness accounts have been thrown out of the Council of Magical Law's investigation due to bias and unreliability, and have thus proven Mr. Alderfair's innocence."
The Auror's account of the incident and the naming of William Alderfair as a suspect previously published has been ruled as "artificial" and "false" in terms of the investigation, with Lukas Alderfair confirming that he and the Auror in question had a complication in the past that led to the erroneous eyewitness account that had incriminated Mr. Alderfair's son. The Auror in question declined to comment on the decision, only stating that he would be resigning from the Auror Office once Christmas was over.
Ministry officials still declare that the investigation is ongoing, and Minster of Magic Harold Minchum assures the magical community that the attackers will be apprehended and brought to justice (for updates on the investigation, see pg. 12).
Reported by Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent of the Daily Prophet and Evening Prophet
Even though she had burned the article after reading it, she still felt nauseous every time she thought about it, and she wondered what Will could have told their father that had made him help clear his name.
It's not what it looks like. I'm so sorry. I don't even remember what happened. Please believe me.
Cassie shut her eyes, digging the heels of her palms into her eye sockets in an attempt to stop the barrage of words and images flooding her brain. All she had wanted was a simple holiday, and now all she was getting was enough trouble to last her a lifetime.
"Rough day, eh?"
Cassie was instantly on her feet, wand in hand as she faced her door, where Will was leaning casually in the threshold. She hadn't even heard the door open, and that only made her angrier as he smirked at her, crossing his arms leisurely.
"Get out," she snapped. "I won't ask twice."
"That didn't sound like asking the first time," he said, raising his brows. Her teeth ground together with an audible click.
"Just leave," she said. "Father and Mum may think you're innocent, but I sure as hell don't."
"I think the Ministry dropping all charges against me seems to disprove that little theory of yours," he said mockingly, and her fingers tightened upon her wand. "And here I thought that you would be the first to believe me when I said I had no part in that attack."
"You're a liar," she hissed. "I don't know what you told Father, but you're not fooling me with it."
"How strange," he mused, cocking his head and frowning at her, like she was a dog that had failed to perform a trick for him. "The last time we met, you were so adamant in hoping that I could still somehow be saved, and now you seem to have lost all that faith in me."
"Finding out that your brother tortures innocent people tends to have that affect on a person," she bit back. He smiled ruefully, not at all bothered by her hostility.
"And yet you still wear the locket that your evil older brother gave to you," he said. She started, momentarily distracted as she gazed down to the locket sitting against her chest, twinkling brightly. "Has it been of any use to you yet?"
"I don't see how an enchanted piece of worthless jewelry could be of any use to me other than hanging there like a pretty bauble," she retorted. His expression darkened at her words.
"Think of me as a liar all you want, Cassie, but heed my words when I tell you that that locket is important," he said gravely. "It could very well mean the difference between life and death."
She didn't respond, too shaken to say anything, merely watching as he stood up straight, uncrossing his arms and giving her a patronizing salute.
"See you around, Sparks," he called over his shoulder, walking back down the hallway and leaving her standing, still holding her wand, in the middle of her bedroom, his words ringing in her ears.
After making sure he was gone, she rushed to her door and locked it, stowing away her wand. She hurried to her desk and snatched up several pieces of blank parchment paper, a quill, and an inkpot, beginning to pen four hasty letters.
By the time she was finished, they were smeared and dotted with stray ink blots, but otherwise contained the same message: I don't care how crazy I sound. Something is going on. And we need to figure out what.
She couldn't make sense of any of it: Avery, Regulus, Professor Carlisle, the maps, the Founders, Will, the locket… None of it added up. But something was rooting itself in her gut, something that twisted and pawed at her and begged her to look in the right direction, and she had to see. She had to know what was going on. And by Merlin himself, she was going to get the answers she needed.
She looked down to the letters again before a sudden urge made her grab up the quill once more and scrawl another sentence at the bottom of the one closest to her: I'll be there.
Sealing the letters and grabbing them up, she walked back to her window and met the intelligent gaze of Sirius's owl, silently praying that he wouldn't bite her as she tied the letters to his legs.
"Sorry about this," she whispered after tying them on, "but these are really important, okay? Make sure they get these."
The owl ruffled his jet-black feathers, hooting once as an assurance before soaring out of her window and disappearing on the horizon like a wisp of smoke.
Next Chapter: The Black Christmas
xx