Chapter 19
"Milla!" I heard my dad's voice loudly calling for me. I whirled round and saw him smiling at me, with my mum beaming next to him.
"Mum! Dad!" I cried happily, walking swiftly towards them.
I hugged both of them tightly, beaming. Ian was ambling over, dragging his trunk with a relieved expression on his face. "Finally, break!" he exclaimed. "Hi, Mum. Hi, Dad."
"Ian, my darling!" Mum flung her arms around Ian, squeezing the breath out of Ian, who rolled his eyes.
I laughed.
"Okay, you lot, let's go," said Dad with a grin.
I nodded and levitated my trunk (I LOVED doing magic outside of school), waving to the Wood family and as we strolled toward the car, I caught sight of a familiar dark head. I immediately scowled, feeling moroseness spread inside me. Great. Just what I bloody need.
"Ginny!" Mum called as she spotted a redhead speaking with her daughter. Ginny looked up and smiled.
"Sarah," she said, smiling widely. "I didn't think I'd see you here. I thought just Ed was coming to get the kids."
Dad shrugged. "I decided to drag her along. After all, she was just cleaning the bloody house for the kids when we all know they'll just wreck it."
"Thanks," I said sardonically.
James smirked and we exchanged a meaningful glance before I looked at the ground.
Wonderful.
Harry ran a hand through his hair (like father like son, eh?). "So, Ian, you coming round later to see our dog, Snuffles?"
Ian grinned. "Damn straight."
"LANGUAGE!" exploded Mum irately. "I will not have my children speaking in such a manner, Ian Grayson Hobbes."
Dad was laughing. "Ed! Stop it! It's not funny. Tell your son not to speak profanely!"
Dad kept laughing. "Edward!"
Uh oh. Dad paled. He knew when Mum used his full name he was in deep shit.
"Sorry, darling," he said meekly.
She softened a bit but said sternly, "No cursing, Ian."
"Okay, Mum," Ian said tiredly.
"Anyway," interjected Ginny smoothly in an eerily James-like fashion. "We'll see you soon for our party."
Joy. More time with James and reminding me of what I can't have.
Mum visibly brightened. "Definitely, Ginny. I'll pop round later on to help you with your decorations."
"Excellent. See you then!"
With that, we piled into the car, discussing our term and upcoming holiday plans.
I didn't say goodbye to James for the first time in my life.
"So, darling," said Mum cheerily. "When are Charlotte and Miranda coming over to help decorate the tree?"
I smiled. "At four. We plan to have hot chocolate and biscuits after. How does it look at the Potters'?"
Mum clapped her hands together, her blue eyes dancing. "Oh, Milla, it's gorgeous. Can't wait to see it all done up tomorrow with everyone there!"
"Discussing the Potters again, are you?" said Dad with a grin as he got a cup of coffee.
"Yes, Ed. And if you cared about me at all you'd be excited too," said Mum indignantly, but her eyes were sparkling.
Dad looked affectionately at her. "Well, since I don't care about you, maybe I should cancel our trip to Italy for our alone time."
"EW! DAD! THAT'S DISGUSTING!" I cried, clapping my hands over my ears. I hurriedly left, not looking at them.
Eurgh. Parents weren't supposed to do … those sorts of things. The way I got here … well, let's just say I believe the whole thing about the stork.
"Hello, girls," Mum said warmly. "How was term?"
Char smiled. "Very good. We were quite busy though with NEWTs and all."
"I heard from Becca and Oliver that that wasn't the only thing you were busy with." Mum winked.
Char reddened. "Um… yes. Ben and I are … an item,"
Mum clapped her hands together. "That's brilliant, dearie, and Ed and I got together very similarly. You see, he and I had gotten pissed at a Quidditch victory party – as you well know – and well, some things happened."
"MUM!" I shouted in embarrassment. Miranda was laughing.
"Well, anyway," Mum said briskly, shooting me a look. "That's how we ended up like this."
"That's lovely," Char said, enraptured with the romance of it all. "You and Ed have been married for how many years now?"
"Twenty-one," said Mum with a girlish smile.
"Wow," said Miranda, impressed. "That's a long time."
"It is. And you'll know that when you marry. I wonder if you'll end up with that Nate chap."
"Oh, for God's sake," I said. "How do you know everything?"
Mum laughed. "Harry told your dad and he found out from Hannah Longbottom."
"I'm going to KILL my mum," said Miranda.
Mum grinned. "You know we'd find out sooner or later, darling."
Miranda smiled reluctantly. "I suppose. Anyway, shall we decorate this tree?"
Mum stood up, laundry basket in hand. "Yes, you girls go ahead. I'll be at Ginny's. Shall I tell James to pop over?"
"NO!" I immediately said.
Mum eyed me oddly, frowning. "Why not?"
"Because … because, um, he …" I floundered.
"Because Ben told me that James and he were meeting up later this evening, so he was going to relax at home," cut in Charlotte smoothly.
Mum looked at us warily. "Okay," she said after a pause. "I'll tell him you lot say hi."
"You do that," I said falsely brightly. "See you later."
We hurried her out of the room and I collapsed on the sofa in relief. "Thank Merlin she bought that," I said.
"I'm good, aren't I?" said Char grinning.
"So, shall we decorate this tree?" Miranda said.
"Yes, let's do that!" I said exultantly. "Okay, Miranda you do the tinsel, I'll do ornaments, and Char you do the candles and lights."
"Done," said Char.
We started stringing the tree with strands of lights and garland and throwing tinsel on it. It finally started to look like a proper Christmas tree. I hung ornaments of angels, pictures of Ian and me (from when we were little and dressed in these stupid holiday outfits), decorated ball ornaments, stars, and ugly clay ones that were smeared with red and green paint that Ian and I made when we were younger.
"Char, throw me that gold ornament, will you?" I asked Char from my place next to the tree. She tossed it to me and I added it to the tree.
Miranda charmed the lights and the tree was starting to look excellent. In the mid-evening glow, the tree stood out, lights and ornaments gleaming. It emitted a piney aroma that was so Christmasy and I felt tranquil for the first time in ages. It was that calm that fills you on an evening by the tree, a knowledge that Christmas is soon and magic really does happen.
And yes, I do know I'm a witch.
It's that other sort of magic that you can believe in – only as a kid. The kind that made you believe so strongly in Santa all those years.
"Char, Miranda, look at the tree," I said.
"I can see it," said Miranda confusedly.
"No, just look."
And they did.
I think they saw what I meant. That indescribable Christmas feeling.
It only happens once a year.
It was the day of the Potters' party.
More importantly, the day I'd see James. Oh, fuck.
I flicked my wand to curl my hair (the trick Char taught me) and reapplied one last coat of mascara. I tottered over in my heels to grab my clutch and a shawl (it was bloody December, after all). My dress was a shimmery deep red, almost the color of wine, and it was strapless.
"Milla!" I heard Dad calling up the steps. "SARAH! It's time to go."
God. He was so bloody impatient.
"Coming!" I shouted, hurrying down the stairs (but taking care not to fall headfirst and plummet to my imminent death).
"Dearest, you look gorgeous," said Mum as she saw me.
"You don't look too shabby either," I said, admiring her champagne-colored dress and elegant updo.
"Ian, let's go, sweetie, shall we?" Mum said. She grabbed his arm for Side-Along Apparition. My dad and I Apparated ourselves (I loved being of age) to the Potters'.
Dad rang the doorbell.
Harry opened the door wearing donned in his finest. "Hi, you lot!" he said warmly.
"Hi, Harry, How goes it?" asked Dad genially.
"Brilliant," Harry replied, ushering us in.
Their house was festooned with fairy lights and they had a large tree, decorated with colorful ornaments, candle, and tinsel, in the center of their family room. Ivy was hanging in the air, suspended by magic. People were chatting in small groups, decked out in their holiday finest. The general air of merriment and good cheer was pervasive.
Ginny spotted us and hurried over, in a green dress and her hair up. "Sarah! Ed! You look lovely. So glad you're here. Hi, Milla, Ian, Happy Christmas. You can go find my horrible children in their father's study, skulking to avoid the party. Oh, and Charlotte, Miranda, Luke, and Ben are already there."
"Thanks, Ginny," I said with a smile, pulling Ian by the ear toward Harry's study.
"Now, you're going to go in and tell Miranda and Charlotte to leave and come find me who will be at the drinks table. I don't want to have to see James," I said with a significant look.
"Ugh. Okay. But you owe me for –"
As Ian said this, Charlotte and Miranda were ambling out of Harry's study, laughing and beaming at one another. Miranda saw me and her grin widened. "Merlin! Milla you look gorgeous!"
"Thank you!" I said, pleased. "You too. I was just about to send Ian to come get you."
"Ah," said Char comprehendingly. "James already asked after you."
"Ugh. I can't face him right now. Not now. Not like this. And I don't feel like wrecking my Christmas." I grimaced.
"Champagne?" Char asked, handing me a glass. I took it gratefully and took a large sip. Good. This is exactly what I needed.
"So what are you lot doing before you come over to my house tomorrow?" I asked.
As they replied, I tuned them out, silently wondering where James was. A part of me wanted him to seek me out and another wanted him to stay the hell away from me, to let me get over him in peace. The latter option was ostensibly better for me – so my predicament could (hopefully) go away. I nodded, smiling, at their responses, but I was lost in my thoughts.
"So we'll be over at six for dinner," Charlotte was saying, waving her champagne flute. "And I'll be –"
"Milla." Charlotte stopped mid-sentence and gaped at James, who was standing in front of us, staring at me. His dark eyes were fixed on me and they were filled with a strange intensity, one I'd never seen before. He looked rather dishy, actually, in his button-down shirt and nice pants instead of the usual crap he wears.
Focus, I commanded myself.
Miranda looked curiously on, a wary expression on her face.
"We need to talk," he said gravely, his eyes never leaving mine.