Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Rudolph, or I'll Be Home for Christmas.

Anna was lying on the rug, on the floor of Sirius's flat. Of what had been Sirius's flat. He had paid out until the end of the year, since they had planned to go into hiding, but the year was almost up, and she had to either take his things or let them be donated to charity or thrown away. If it was left to Remus or any of the other Order members, they would search and then torch the place. He didn't really have that many belongings, and the minimal furniture wasn't much to speak of, but the thought of strangers, or worse—anyone who believed he was capable of the blackest crime, pawing through his belongings and appraising their value, was unbearable to her.

It was the first time she'd been back, since that night. As soon as she'd walked in, she'd half expected to be back on Halloween, waking up on the couch to find it was all a hellish nightmare and that he had come home to her. The teacup she had used was still there, on the coffee table, where she'd set it down before giving up on him returning after he'd run from their fight. It was the last time she'd seen him, slamming the door behind him, ignoring her calls, on his way to check on Peter. He'd left in such a temper that he'd forgotten his leather jacket—a gift from the marauders for his 17th birthday to go with his then newly-acquired motorcycle, his pride and joy. The jacket had been left on the armchair that was now behind her head, to the right. She'd picked it up and that had been her undoing.

Anna didn't know how long she'd been lying there, clutching the jacket in a death grip, and savoring the last bit of his fresh air and sunshine smell. She could hear the strains of people around her, coming and going, calling out holiday greetings to one another, going about making meals and greeting visitors, but she couldn't quite recall the meaning of any of it. It couldn't be Christmas already. Christmas was supposed to be merry, New Year's was supposed to be full of promise, but she was still suspended in the protracted horror of that Halloween night.

Vague feelings of thirst, hunger, and a need for the loo came and went like waves, but Anna was too frozen to respond. What was physical discomfort compared to the throbbing pain in her heart? She had never experienced this before, a weakness so strong that she couldn't seem to care if she ever got up off this floor, if she lived, died, wet herself, anything. What was the point? There was nothing to be done, no battles to be waged, no friends to see, no parents to worry after her, no child to soothe. If she had been able to take Harry, she couldn't have let herself fall apart. She would have had a reason not to. With the way things had worked out, what reason was there not to lie here until her body was carried out with the other vestiges of Sirius's life?

"He's not dead," she told herself.

This wasn't much, as far as comforting thoughts went. Between death and life in Azkaban, anyone would choose the former. If they would even give him a trial for his supposed crimes, she maybe could have a little hope. As it was, she'd exhausted every legal option. The only way for any of it to go away would be to prove it, by finding Wormtail, wherever he was, if the rat was even alive. It was entirely possible that Sirius had killed him after confronting him, and it would serve him right, but if so, it made ever clearing his name impossible. Even though Sirius could easily prove his innocence with veritaserum or legilimency, no one was going to give him that opportunity. She'd offered to do so herself, despite having little in the way of proof since Sirius had refused to tell her any of the details about the fidelius charm. Crouch had laughed derisively and claimed that all mad people believed they were telling the truth, and the same was true for those who'd been confunded. At least that had finally shut Crouch up about her being an accomplice. Remus and her uncle had been greatly relieved by that, but she had merely felt defeated. Azkaban might have been kinder…no, even in her grief-filled stupor, she knew that wasn't true. Yes, she would have been near Sirius, but that would only be more torture for both of them, and it would leave little chance of him ever getting out or of them being with Harry.

Harry. Oh, how she missed him. He had been such a sweet, well-tempered baby. Their last Christmas together had been his first. They had all gathered at the little cottage, which was decorated so thoroughly that Sirius said it looked like Christmas had thrown up on it. They had showered their five-month old godson with gifts, though he was far too young to even understand what was happening. She and Lily read him muggle Christmas stories and sang to him, while the Marauders drank and snickered at them in the background. She couldn't even picture what the Dursleys would be doing with him today—certainly not making him the center of their celebrations the way his true family would have.

After Harry had gone to bed and Remus and Peter had left, the remaining two couples had talked about the war and how it seemed to be hurtling toward an end, what end they didn't know. They had planned what they would do after the war—ideally they would be living next door to James and Lily, all of them raising their children together, free from fear. It made her physically ill to remember those moments of naïveté. The war would never be over now, not for her. It was forever being waged within her heart. For years, triumph over Voldemort had been the goal, and she was vexed to find that there was absolutely no meaning to it. In fact, she wished with all her might that the war was still here, and with it, all those she had lost to it. Never had she imagined that their supposed victory could be so hollow. Never had she imagined that she would find herself on the other side, alone. In all her visions of the peaceful future, she had never pictured it like this.

Of course Anna had realized she might die, that the ones she loved might die. After all, she had watched her parents die when she was only thirteen, and that had brought with it a grim clarity that the others hadn't experienced until they had watched their fellow warriors meet their grisly ends, one by one. Even so, she had always pictured a grand battle to end the war, with them all either surviving or being killed, none of this half and half that they had ended up with. It was really rather near-sighted of her. Of course, if she had ever imagined all of this, she wasn't sure she could've kept up the fight.

Anna could now hear music coming from next door. Someone had turned on the wireless to hear Christmas music. Bing Crosby was singing about being home for Christmas, if only in his dreams. Though she had always enjoyed the old crooner, if he were in front of her at the moment she would've Avada Kedavra'd him on the spot. They wouldn't be coming home for Christmas, not even in their dreams, any of them. Lily and James were sleeping under the snow in Godric's Hollow, Harry was too young, probably too damaged, and far away, Remus just wanted to forget their entire previous lives, and Sirius was in Azkaban. She shuddered, thinking that he probably couldn't have any dreams, not pleasant ones anyway. He probably didn't even know it was Christmas.

Clenched due to her tension, her fingers had somehow worked their way inside the lining of Sirius's jacket. She frowned, that felt like a pocket. Moving for the first time since collapsing in this spot, she sat up to get a look. There was a hidden pocket inside Sirius's jacket. She had never known that. Stretching her shorter fingers as far as she could, she finally managed to grasp the edge of what felt like a piece of parchment. Her heart quickened, hoping for some extra piece of information, some leverage, but then sank again as she realized the back was too smooth for parchment. She tugged it free and turned it over.

It was a picture, she realized, a rather old one. The edges were ragged and it had lost some of the color from too much handling, it seemed. Pulling it closer, she realized it was a picture of her, from sixth year, she thought, maybe seventh. It looked as though it had been taken without her knowledge. It was in front of the tree in the Potters' living room, next to the piano. There was a little white blur as something white hit her in the head. Popcorn, she remembered with a smile that hurt muscles in her cheeks, due to recent disuse. James had started chucking popcorn at her after uncharacteristically losing a game of wizard's chess to her. He had always been a sore loser, probably because he was fantastic at nearly everything. The profile of Anna in the picture laughed teasingly, picked up the bowl and took off in pursuit of the blur that was James running away from her.

The Anna in the present didn't realize that she was crying until she felt the wetness on her hands holding the picture. In wonder, she realized that they were the first tears she had cried since it had happened. She gave herself over to them. She cried for all of them: for Lily, her best friend and only real girlfriend, for James, her oldest friend and self-appointed big brother, for Sirius, imprisoned and certainly filled with grief and guilt, for Harry all alone in the world now, and for Remus and herself, having to try to piece lives back together that had been blown apart and would never seem truly whole again.

As terribly pitiful and sad as she felt at that moment, with tears and keening cries erupting out of her, it was also a tremendous relief. It was a release, and proof to herself that she could still feel, that she could still be human instead of only a numb shell. At last, her sobs and tears began to ease, and she felt a certain measure of calm descend.

What would they want her to do, from here on out? Certainly, they would understand the past few months, but where could she go from here? While living and dying in her spot on the floor still seemed a bit tempting, she had enough spirit now to reject it. That was the coward's way out, and she was a Gryffindor through and through.

What would she want Sirius to do, had their roles been reversed? It was hard to imagine. If their roles had been reversed, Anna couldn't picture Sirius failing her the way she was failing him. He was too tenacious not to continue the fight. But…while she certainly would want him to attempt to get her released, they had their godson to think of. While it was true that they didn't get custody and would most likely never be welcomed in his presence, she knew Sirius wouldn't have just accepted that, and neither would she. But what could she do instead?

A thought occurred, perhaps borne of the temporary madness that still lingered, but it gave her hope that it might just work. She sat there thinking for some time, making plans and backups. Finally, she got up and strode to the kitchen counter, jacket and picture in hand. After writing the note, requesting that any and all pictures be sent to her Grandfather for safe keeping, she took a deep breath. She was sure more tears and heartache would come. After all, she was still human and alive, whatever that amounted to. But she was done moping about. There was business to be done. Although they may not be together ever again on this earth, at least now she could remember them all with a smile.

As she locked the deadbolt behind her, she heard Bing Crosby again through the wall and wondered how long she had to have been sitting there for the mix to have rotated back around to the same song. She thought about a cottage in Godric's Hollow, full of friends, love, and a little black-haired baby boy. She let the memory fill her up, as though she were about to cast a patronus, but instead she held it in her heart, hoping that it would stand guard on the inside. She looked out at the city lights and wondered if Harry was out there missing them. She hadn't made it, in real time, for Christmas Eve, but she hoped some tiny part of him knew that she was dreaming about being with him, too, as she heard the last strains of the song.

"Christmas Eve will find me where the love light gleams. I'll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams…"

Author's Note: So, I couldn't get rid of the decided to make this into a collection of one-shots. This was very angsty, but I have a happier one coming up, hopefully before Christmas Day.