Chapter 7: Best Job in the World

December, First Year, Christmas Holidays

Being home after so long away was one of the best things ever. I got to see mum and dad and Chloe, and leave out food for the badger in our garden which Chloe had named Stripey, and go to the park and the lake, and sleep in my own bed - although it was a bit strange, sleeping on my own. I hoped Santana was okay at her house on her own at night - I sent her an owl every day before I went to sleep to say goodnight so it was like we were together at Hogwarts, but I wasn't sure if it worked or not.

I was still worried about her having a sad Christmas. Just like she'd said, her mum and dad were out of the house all the time - when they weren't working they were with Tony, but Santana only got to visit him every few days. She said she was okay, but I knew that really it was just her and Edlyn the house elf and she must be so lonely. So I decided to do something about it. She'd loved it when we had that day of snow and quidditch at Hogwarts, but I didn't want to just leave it at that. This was when she was going to be the saddest, so I had to carry it on to make sure she had a good Christmas.

"Mum, can Santana stay over for a few days?" I asked during dinner, a few days into the Christmas holidays.

"I've told you before Brittany, Santana can stay over whenever she wants so long as her mum says it's okay."

"But her mum is never there to ask - I tried, mum, but she's never home, they sleep at the hospital and leave Edlyn to look after Santana. Please? They wouldn't even know she was here."

My mum looked sad when I said that, then nodded. "Okay. But you leave a note so if her parents come back they know where she is. And only one night for now," she added.

I smiled widely at her. "Thanks mum. I want to make sure her Christmas is good this year. She looks so pretty when she smiles, doesn't she?"

"Of course, everyone looks prettier when they smile. And you have one of the prettiest smiles I know. You too Chloe," my dad said when she poked him.

"Well yeah I know, but Santana especially. I mean she's pretty even when she's not smiling, but when she smiles and she's really happy she looks like…" I thought for a moment, trying to find a way to describe the radiance I was picturing in my head. "She looks like an angel that's just had the best birthday ever and if she smiles enough she might just turn into a real angel and sprout wings. Like that, but better. I've never seen anyone else look so pretty when they smile."

Now both mum and dad were staring at me weirdly. I shifted in my chair, uncomfortable. My foot began tapping against the floor as I tried to work out why they were looking at me like that, and then looking at each other as if they were speaking with their minds.

"Well I think that Stripey has the prettiest face when he smiles," Chloe declared from across the table, her knees up against her chest to balance the notepad she was drawing in. She flipped it around to display a picture of our badger with a massive grin on his face. Suddenly my parents were being normal again, with dad ruffling Chloe's hair and her protesting loudly. I went over what I had said to try and figure out what had made them act so strange, but I couldn't work it out. I shrugged to myself, hopping down from the table and starting to clear the plates, excited to tell Santana that she could stay over.

The plan was going well. Santana was smiling and looking just as perfect as she always did when she smiled as we rearranged my bed so there was space for her as well. Dad had got out the blow-up mattress and sleeping bag for her on the floor, but we didn't need that. We just had to get all my cuddly toys off the bed and put them safely away to the side of the room so they wouldn't get squashed. Charity was being very difficult though - every time we tried to move her off the bed, she'd either jump straight back on or go and mess up all the teddies lined carefully against the wall by wriggling in between them. After Santana persuaded me to lock her out of my room just while we were getting my bed ready it all worked a lot easier - until Santana threw a toy otter at me and we ended up having a pillow fight.

I collapsed onto my bed panting, grabbing Santana's arm and pulling her with me to snuggle up against. She was so warm, and her laughing meant I'd done well at my job of cheering her up. It's the best job ever, really. I just have to find fun stuff for us to do and tell jokes and get us nice food (which my mum had already done earlier by cooking us spaghetti). She looked so happy, being here with me, and I leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.

"I'm happy you're happy," I told her quietly, my own cheeks beginning to ache from smiling so widely for so long. I'd got so used to having her around all the time at Hogwarts that even though it was nice being home, I'd still felt lonely without her next to me. And I knew as much as I'd felt lonely she must have felt it so much more all alone with just Edlyn in her big house. It made it even better now, being back with her.

She tapped me on the nose with her finger, then kissed it better even though it hadn't actually hurt.

"And I'm over the moon that I get you to myself instead of having to share you with Charity," she replied.

I giggled, glancing over at the door. I'd forgotten about Charity out there.

"She's nice! And she likes you, she always curls up with you."

"Yeah, and that means I can't curl up with you," she told me, wrapping her arms tightly around me to demonstrate.

I heard Charity meow from the other side of the wall and shifted, looking between Santana and the door. She raised an eyebrow, tightening her hold on me. Another meow, and the sound of wood being scratched.

"Santana, she's lonely, she wants to come in. You said we'd just put her outside while we were sorting the bed!"

"Well we're in bed now, she'll just have to sleep away from you for once."

"But she can't! She can't sleep without me, she just cries all night!" I tried to explain, pulling out of Santana's hold as I sat up. "And you're not even dressed for bed yet!" She was giving me the widest smile she could now and she looked so adorable, begging me with her eyes to stay while her fingers ran up and down my bare calf and made my skin tingle. It was funny how she could do that. "Where did you learn that spell?" I asked curiously, distracted temporarily by her touch. She looked confused.

"What spell?"

"You know, the one you do so that when you touch me sometimes it feels all tingly and nice. Like now." Her hand snapped away so fast and suddenly she wouldn't look at me. "…Santana?"

She shuffled off the bed and went to the door, grabbing her pyjamas on the way and opening it to reveal a mewling Charity. My cat bolted in and jumped onto the bed, pressing her head up against my hand and purring loudly. I stroked her as per her demands, but my eyes were fixed on Santana in the doorway.

"I'm just going to go change in the bathroom," she said before slipping out.

"Wait, but-" It was too late, she was already gone. "She never changes in the bathroom," I told Charity quietly, scratching behind her ears. It was weird. I'd noticed other little things recently as well, like her turning away when she undressed and her face sometimes getting hot when I was close, even though she said I was imagining things if I mentioned it. It was like she was trying to hide part of herself from me, and we'd never done that before. I never hid any of myself from her.

I didn't like it, but she was still trying to deal with Tony being in hospital and I didn't want to make it any harder for her. I'd really thought he'd be home by Christmas when I'd promised her a good holiday, and the fact that he wasn't meant I had to work extra hard for Santana. That was why, when she came back into the room in her green satin pyjamas, I didn't mention what had just happened or any of my other thoughts. I just smiled and pulled the duvet out to slip under it, holding it open for her until she crawled in next to me. She didn't cuddle up like normal, but she shuffled over so she was right next to me. Charity curled up at the end of the bed like she always did at Hogwarts. I turned so I was facing her, carrying on smiling. It took a few moments, but then she smiled back.

"The Ministry Christmas party's this Saturday," she told me. I had been to the party with her every year for as long as I could remember, but since her mum and dad didn't even have time to come home and see her I figured we'd have to give it a miss this year. It was a shame, because it was the only time I ever got to see inside the Ministry of Magic, but maybe next year.

"What about it?"

"Can you come?"

"Wait… you're going? On your own?" I asked, confused.

"No, mamá says we have to go to keep up appearances or something. Papá gets to stay with Tony though." She sounded sad and angry at the same time. "Please say you can come, I can't deal with mamá on my own telling me to speak clearer and stand straighter and using me as… as a trophy while Tony's stuck in St. Mungo's."

"Of course I can come. I love going there," I reminded her. I wanted to hug her, but didn't want her to start acting weird again.

She nodded, staring into my giant yellow pillow. She looked so sad and it wasn't fair. I'd invited her round so she'd be happy and now I'd gone and upset her without even knowing how. I couldn't hug her, but I had to do something. I reached down for her hand, finding her little finger with my own and linking them, then bringing both our hands up so they were next to our faces. I leaned in and kissed the tip of her little finger as gently as I could. Finally she met my eyes. She looked kind of… nervous, I guess, but I didn't understand why.

"You can tell me anything, you know," I told her. Maybe if she talked about whatever was bothering her she'd feel better.

"I… I do, tell you everything."

She was lying, and now she wouldn't look at me again. It made me even sadder than when she had ran out of the room. What kind of a best friend was I if Santana couldn't even trust me enough to tell me the truth?

"Just reminding you," I eventually replied, not knowing what else to say. What could I say? All I could do was let her know that I was always going to be there for her, no matter what happened. Nothing would ever pull me away.

The party was in full swing, with the entire Ministry atrium filled with important-looking grown-ups dressed in suits and nice dresses. There were some musicians playing in the centre of the room and a buffet of food laid out on table after table to the side. I walked next to Santana as we followed her mum through the crowd. Her mum was dressed in a really nice dark red dress and Santana was dressed in the same, slightly altered so it fit her. I thought she looked really pretty, but she hated it. She said it was like her mum was marking her or something. I wasn't really sure, she was going on about it for a while. I lost track of what she was saying when I lost my bracelet in the pile of clothes on her floor that she'd actually wanted to wear. I was wearing a dress as well, but I had to wear a thick cardigan over mine because it was really meant for summer.

Her mum had stopped to talk to someone so we stopped as well. Santana was looking more irritated than miserable now - but I wasn't sure if that was an improvement or not.

"Santana, you remember Dr. Morgan don't you?" her mum asked, beckoning her forward. "Santana's just started Hogwarts this year and she's doing very well - Professor Sylvester is very happy to have her in Slytherin and Professor Beiste thinks she could make the house team by next year!"

"Esto es ridículo," Santana muttered as she stepped forward.

"What was that, Santana?" Her mum was sending her a look I recognised - it was the look she always had on her face when she was warning Santana without speaking. She'd used it on me a few times too, but not too often, and never so strongly. I stepped forward as well, brushing my wrist against Santana's to try and ground her. She was angry, I knew that, but getting into an argument here would only make it worse - even if it was in Spanish and no one else understood.

"He dicho, esto es ridículo. ¡Tony está en el hospital y estás jugar con políticos!"

"Santana, do you want some food? I think she wants some food, we'll go find the buffet," I interrupted, getting scared by how angry Mrs. Lopez looked. I grabbed Santana's hand and yanked her away before her mum could reply, not wanting her to get in any more trouble. She was tense, but she let me pull her along until we got to the food before taking her hand back. "I'm sorry, I didn't want you getting in trouble," I apologised quickly.

"It's okay. It's good, you got me away from her. Come on, let's go find where the fun is in this place. Puck should be about somewhere."

I was kind of hungry, but I followed her anyway as she began winding through the crowd. I saw Quinn and Mike and waved, but Santana didn't stop for them and we finally ended up at the other end of the buffet tables, where the wine and champagne bottles were standing. Suddenly I noticed that Santana's wand was out.

"Get a couple of cups," she instructed, stepping away from me. "Reducio," she muttered while we were still a few metres away, and one of the bottles suddenly shrunk so it looked like a toy copy. She brushed past the table and when I looked again the toy bottle was gone. "Britt, come on!" she whispered, beckoning me to follow. I grabbed two of the glasses from the next table along then hurried after her as she disappeared through a door and down an empty corridor.

"Santana, where are we going? We'll get in trouble, I don't think we're supposed to be here!" I hissed after her, jogging for a few steps until I was alongside her. She shrugged, turning left at another corner then sinking to the ground. I dropped down next to her as she opened her hand and pointed at the tiny bottle with her wand.

"Engorgio!"

It quickly expanded back to its original size. It wasn't a full bottle, so it didn't all bubble up and out like I always saw happen on the telly when she popped the cork off the top. I placed the glasses on the floor in front of her and she began to pour out the champagne.

"Santana, I'm not sure-"

"Geez, relax will you Brittany? They've got so much alcohol out there they wouldn't realise if I took ten bottles. Grown-ups drink this stuff all the time, it's meant to be awesome. They just don't want kids drinking it 'cause then there'd be less for them. We're not going to get in trouble."

My foot began tapping and my fingers twitched against the ground as she continued to pour. Santana was normally right, but I remember my mum telling me about how alcohol could be dangerous sometimes. But it did look nice, all golden and bubbly. Something that looked so nice had to taste nice, right? And surely it couldn't actually be dangerous. I wouldn't have that much, anyway. She handed me one of the glasses and clinked it against hers, grinning excitedly. At least she was happy now.

"One, two-"

"Whatcha doin'?" a voice from the side asked. I jumped, almost dropping my champagne, but Santana turned as calmly as she always did to face the boy eyeing us from a few feet away. Puck. Of course it was Puck. I should have known he'd be about somewhere, waiting to come and interrupt my time with Santana by distracting her.

"Me and Britt are drinking champagne. I got it for us specially, and don't think you're getting any!" Santana told him firmly with her chin high in the air. Maybe she wouldn't be distracted by him this time. Puck came nearer, peering into my glass. I held it close to my chest, gazing up at him suspiciously.

"Leave her alone," Santana ordered, whacking him hard in the shin so he stumbled away. I giggled, and she looked back at me and giggled with me until finally regaining control of herself. At least she was much happier now she was away from her mum.

"To Brittany and Santana, future quidditch champions of Hogwarts!" she pronounced, and we clinked our glasses again, ignoring the watching Puck as we took our first gulp of champagne together.

I tensed the moment it touched my tongue. It was… it was… how could something look so nice but taste so disgusting? I swallowed quickly, not wanting to spit it out in front of Santana. She'd said it would be nice – I didn't want to prove her wrong. Maybe it just tasted weird to me. I looked across at her, and saw she had a strange expression on her face. Our eyes met and it felt like she was reading my mind, then she turned away to look at Puck again.

"You know what, Puck, since you stood there so nicely I think you can have some of my champagne. Only a tiny bit, though," Santana warned loftily, as she held out the glass to him. I bit my lip to stop myself from smiling. Puck laughed, grabbing the cup from Santana's hand and taking a purposely large gulp. If I hadn't known what was coming, I'd have been annoyed at him. I felt Santana take hold of my little finger and I gripped back hard, trying to tell her how funny I thought this was without speaking and giving it away.

"Blarghh!" Puck exclaimed in shock, spitting the champagne straight back out and dropping the glass onto the floor where it spilled. "That's disgusting! My grandma's shandy tastes better than that!" he protested. I fell into Santana, unable to keep up my straight face any longer, and she hugged me tightly as she laughed with me.

"Girls!" Puck raged, turning and storming off, but that only made us laugh harder. We fell together onto the tiled floor, knocking over the rest of my drink but not caring. So maybe the champagne plan hadn't gone as Santana had been hoping, but we were laughing and she was happy, and that made everything okay.

I woke up pleasantly warm, my head buried into the pillow and an arm wrapped securely around my waist. I tried to roll a little and the arm tightened, not letting me go. I smiled, settling back down and turning my face to look at Santana. She continued to snore lightly but she never lightened her hold on me.

Watching Santana sleep is amazing, especially recently. All the anger and sadness just disappear from her face and she looks like the old Santana, the Santana who was happy all the time. Sure, she hadn't cried since that one time in the prefects' bathroom, but I knew she was still sad. I moved my arm, sliding it out carefully from her hold. I allowed my fingers to run lightly through her dark hair as I studied her face some more. So peaceful, so beautiful… now I wasn't sure which was prettier, smiling Santana or sleeping Santana.

She mumbled something in Spanish and I could tell she was starting to wake up. I waited patiently, continuing to comb her hair with my fingers. Only when her eyes fluttered open did I draw my hand back.

"Morning sleepy head," I greeted her cheerily. To my disappointment her arm moved, letting go of me as she stretched. "What are we going to do today? We could go to the lake?" It would be cold, but the frost made everything look like it was covered in glitter.

"M'sorry, Britt," she muttered, still half-asleep. "M'seeing Tony this morning."

"Oh, okay. Wait, why don't I come? I haven't seen him in ages, I want to say hello!" It was a genius idea, why hadn't I thought of it sooner? I'd get to make Santana feel better by making Tony laugh, because even if he was sick I knew I was still really good at that.

"I… I don't know, Brittany. He's getting better but… mamá might not want you there. Especially after last night…" I'd kept Santana away from her mum for the rest of the party, but when she'd found us at the end she'd still looked really mad.

"But why? We don't have to tell her I'm coming, and she won't be able to argue in the hospital 'cause of all the sick people. And he's my friend too, and Chloe's. And if she does start making a fuss I'll just leave straight away. Please? I really want to see him," I begged, my hands clasping in front of me.

"I guess…"

"Thank you!" I exclaimed, hugging her. This was the best idea ever!

I still didn't think she was completely sure about me coming, because she was slow getting out of bed and showering, and even slower eating breakfast. Edlyn was muttering worriedly to herself about us being late, and in the end it was half an hour after we were supposed to leave that we finally stepped into the fireplace. Santana was clutching my hand so tightly when we arrived at the hospital. She didn't even step out of the fireplace straight away. I looked back at her, confused. She always said she wanted to see Tony more, but now she was here she was lingering back.

"What is it?" I asked quietly. She shook her head, not replying except to squeeze my hand again, and began to lead me down the corridor. For once she didn't seem to care about anyone seeing us holding hands. A few of the healers and nurses said hello as we walked to Tony's room, but she didn't talk to any of them either. She was nervous. We stepped into one of the private rooms, and I immediately saw her mum turn to glare, stepping toward us.

"Santana, you're forty minutes late! ¿Y por qué está Brittany aquí?"

I didn't speak any Spanish apart from 'gracias' and 'adios' and 'pato', but I could tell her mum wasn't happy about me being there. I liked it when I heard Santana speak Spanish because it sounded so nice, but I didn't really like it when her family started talking all in Spanish and I couldn't understand anything. I had a hard enough time following some people's thoughts anyway, without them speaking in a different language.

"She wanted to see Tony, okay?" Santana responded stubbornly. It seemed that now I was here she wasn't going to let her mum argue me away. She pushed past her mum, pulling me forward to the bed. My feet froze when I saw Tony, and suddenly every angry remark and every tear made sense. He was kind of awake, his eyes half open, but he was attached to all these tubes and there were so many spells on him you could actually see them in the air around him. He was thin, and pale, and he looked like he'd never smile again.

"Did they put more spells on him again? He looks worse," Santana whispered.

"They renewed them this morning so they're very strong at the moment," her dad murmured. "He'll be worse for a while but he should be much better by New Year. And don't think you've got away with your behaviour last night, young lady. We'll talk about it once Christmas is over and Tony's feeling better."

Santana was looking at me now and I bit my lip, trying not to let her see that I was upset. The plan had been to cheer them both up, but now I wasn't even sure how to do that with Tony looking so terrible. I had to try, though. I had to. I've never seen so many people look so sad before.

"Hi Tony!" I said as brightly as I could, stepping past Santana to smile down at him. His eyes flickered a little more open and for a moment I saw a tiny smile.

"Hi," he croaked out. His voice sounded just as bad as the rest of him looked. I searched for something else to say that wasn't to do with him being in hospital or how terrible he looked.

"Can you believe they sorted me and Santana into different houses? You'd better watch out when you get there Tony or you might end up in Ravenclaw and you'll have to spend every day reading books so you don't get left behind. The rest of it's great though - the quidditch is amazing, and I can beat Santana when we race! Slytherin's the best team at the moment, but the moment I get on the team Hufflepuff is going to start beating everyone - you wait, when you come next year everyone will be cheering Hufflepuff!"

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Santana smiling a little as well, even though she moaned every time I did actually win a broom race. Tony was looking a bit happier as well and suddenly I was glad I came. It was just like I'd thought a few days ago when Santana stayed at my house - making people smile was the best job ever.

Christmas Day. Third best day of the year, after Santana's birthday and my birthday which come joint first. I was stuffed full of turkey and Christmas pudding and I was still wearing several lopsided hats from pulling crackers - although my head was too small for them, so I had them around my neck instead. I was lying face down on my bed, all my presents scattered across the floor, waiting for Santana to reply to my owl. It was the only bad thing about Christmas, that I didn't get to see her very much because we always had family round. I knew she was at the hospital all day today, so I'd waited until the evening to send her an owl wishing her a Happy Christmas and asking when I could come round to give her my present. It was dark outside now though, and I would have been asleep hours ago if it were a normal day and I wasn't still bubbling with excitement from seeing all my family.

I rolled onto my back and sighed, staring up at the ceiling then glancing at the clock. It never took Santana this long to reply to an owl. I climbed off the bed and headed to my window, peeking through the curtains to find the silhouette that I knew was her house. A few summers ago Santana had helped me learn Morse code so that we could communicate even when we couldn't use our parents' owls, so I knew exactly which window was hers. The light was on, so she was home. So why wasn't she replying to my owl?

I made a decision. It was probably going to get me in trouble later, but it was already almost midnight and I had to see Santana on Christmas Day. Picking up the plastic bag holding Santana's present, I tiptoed out of my room and down the stairs. My grandparents and aunt and uncle and mum and dad were still in the front room, talking quietly, but I crept past without them noticing me. I left my shoes behind on purpose so that I wouldn't make as much noise, and slipped out of the door as silently as possible. The moment I was out of our drive I set into a run down the street. A few people were still about walking home, but I dodged them all in the short time it took to reach the Lopezes' perfect garden. I knocked on the door three times, hoping that Santana would answer the door and not her parents. I waited for a bit, then knocked again. I waited some more, but no one came.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" I tried calling into the keyhole, but got no response. But I knew Santana was in, because her light was on.

I walked around the edge of the house to where her room was, examining the tree that grew right next to her window. We'd both tried climbing it before, but Edlyn always caught us and stopped us getting as high as I would need to go. But I had to!

I made sure the bag was securely around my wrist and then I jumped, reaching for the lowest branch and my hands scraping against the bark when I caught hold of it. It hurt a bit, but I held on and used all my strength to haul myself up onto it. My arms were aching already, but I reached for the next branch, and the next. A sharp twig scratched my arm, and the rough surface was really hurting my feet now as well, but I was almost there. Finally, I was level with Santana's window and I looked inside, seeing her immediately curled up on her bed. I reached out for the window, but felt myself teetering suddenly. My arms wrapped tightly around the branch and as I looked down I realised just how high up I was. This was very high. It didn't look so high when you looked up at Santana's window, but looking down it really did. I felt a bit dizzy and clung on tighter to the branch with one arm and my legs while reaching out with my other hand. I tapped on the window once before getting scared again and pulling back, trying to breathe slowly. What would happen if I fell? Would I hurt my brain and end up in hospital like Tony?

She hadn't heard, though, she was still on her bed. Trembling, I reached out again and knocked on the window harder. She jerked up and I almost jumped back in surprise, but luckily I didn't. Now she had seen me, I concentrated on staying as still as possible on the tree branch.

"Brittany, what are you doing?" I heard her ask, her window scraping open. Her voice sounded hoarse. I tried to look up at her, but then I saw how far away the ground was again and I pressed my forehead against the branch, squeezing my eyes shut.

"I came to see you," I whispered. "No one was answering the door. But I think I'm stuck, I can't get close enough to your window and I can't move. I think I'm going to be stuck here forever," I tried to explain without sounding too scared. I didn't think I did a very good job.

"I've got my wand, I'll stop you falling if you slip. You just need to reach out for me, okay?"

I nodded, turning my face towards the window but not daring to open my eyes.

"Britt, you need to see me. Come on, it'll be fine. Just reach out."

I peeked with one eye and immediately saw Santana's hands reaching out for me, her wand in one of them. I couldn't look anywhere else or I knew I'd get dizzy again, so I lifted one shaking arm from the tree and held it out. Her hand caught it immediately and held it tightly.

"Now your other hand."

"But what if I fall?" I muttered.

"You won't. Reach out, come on. Keep your legs around that branch. Do it now."

I did as she said, because I couldn't do anything else. I felt more secure holding onto Santana with both hands, her fingers gripping around my arms firmly.

"Now I'm going to pull backwards and you push forwards, okay? No arguing," she added as I opened my mouth. I kept my eyes focused only on our entwined arms. "One, two, three - now!"

I squeezed my eyes shut and forced myself away from the tree, into midair. It felt like I was going to fall, but then Santana's weight pulled back and suddenly my arms were inside her window and my body was dangling against the outside of her house. Scrabbling with my feet against the bricks, I fought the rest of my way inside until I fell to the floor with a thump.

I stayed there for a few moments, breathing hard, before I dared to open my eyes again. I was relieved to see Santana's present was still inside the bag around my wrist, but then when I looked at Santana to wish her a Happy Christmas I couldn't. Because she wasn't happy. She looked broken. Her smile was broken - she looked like Tony had last week, never able to smile again. Her cheeks were glistening from the trail of so many tears and her eyes were red and there were used tissues all over the room. The owl I'd sent so many hours ago was sitting on her desk, oddly silent considering his normal temperament.

My mouth was still open, but she'd turned away now and was muttering something under her breath. I strained to listen.

"-wish you hadn't come."

I didn't know exactly what was wrong, but it had to be Tony. He was the only thing that got her this upset. I dropped her present to the floor, walked forward and flung my arms around her, squeezing and burying my face into her hair. It only took a few moments of that and then she was breaking again, turning to hug me back as she started crying so so loudly. Her shoulders were shaking and there was so much weight in her body that it felt like she might collapse at any minute. I kneeled slowly until we were both on the floor and there was no risk of her falling over, but her crying just got even louder as she tried to say something.

"Shhh, sweetie, speak slower," I whispered in her ear, one hand wrapped protectively around her head and the other around her waist, pulling her into my lap as I leaned against her bed.

"S'Tony… They…" She broke down again and for several minutes I couldn't make out anything she tried to say. "Treatment didn't work," she finally muttered.

"So they'll try some new treatment. They've tried loads already, they'll just do something else," I assured her, leaning in to kiss the top of her head even though the treatments Tony had sounded horrible so far and could only get worse. It would be worth it though, if he got better and got out of hospital soon. She shoved me back and slid off my lap, glaring at me with so much anger.

"Don't be so stupid, Brittany!" she half-shouted, half-screamed.

I froze. That word. I hated that word. So many people have called me that, but it had never hurt so much before. Because she knows I hate it, and she used it anyway. I stared at her, trying to understand, but she carried on anyway.

"That was the fucking last treatment, they can't fucking do 'something else', don't you get that? Don't you get how bad this is, how sick he is? Just 'cause you can talk about Hogwarts and shit and make him smile the one time you go see him, doesn't make everything alright! He's dying, and they can't do anything! He's dead by March! They can't do anything else and my brother's going to die! He's going to be gone forever, do you get that, Brittany? Are you so stupid you can't even comprehend the fact that in two months I am never going to see my brother again?" she shrieked, her voice ragged.

She said that word again, but this time it wasn't the reason I was hurting. My heart was beating so fast, I think it was crying. I knew I was crying, even if it wasn't loudly like Santana. I could feel the wetness on my cheeks as I stared across the room at my best friend, who had stopped screaming now and collapsed in on herself next to the door, her body shuddering with her sobs. I moved stiffly - it was like my body had forgotten how to from the shock. Dead. I thought only old people died. I'd never known anyone young to die before. And Tony was really young. I crawled across the floor to the weeping Santana and leaned against her. I was hugging her, but not tight like before. Just enough so she'd know that I was there, and I understood she had only called me stupid because she was hurting so much inside that she needed someone else to hurt too. I couldn't say anything. I didn't know what to say. For the rest of my otherwise brilliant Christmas Day, I cried with Santana on her bedroom floor. My promise was broken, and there was nothing I could do about it.

Making people smile was the best job in the world, until I couldn't. Then it was the worst.

He dicho, esto es ridículo. ¡Tony está en el hospital y estás jugar con políticos! – I said, this is ridiculous. Tony's in hospital and you're playing with politicians!
¿Y por qué está Brittany aquí? – And why is Brittany here?
Thanks again to Yumoto for help with translation :)

Oh and here's some British English translations which some people may not understand.
Shandy: low alcohol-content beer mixed with lemonade
Christmas cracker hats that Britt mentions being around her neck: Basically paper hats you get from crackers, which are these cardboard tubes pulled between two people at Christmas which normally have a hat, toy and joke inside. They're hard to describe, google them if you want to see

Drawing for this chapter can be found here:
laurasfantasia. tumblr. com
/post/18124623183/bedroom