If Emma had thought that her workload was physically impossible before, it was nothing on the actual workload created by the Christmas season. On top of well-meaning holiday pranks gone awry, there was actually a surprising increase in malicious misappropriation of Muggle artifacts during the holidays, and Emma was about ready to just quit altogether and say that someone else had to deal with all the mess.

She was sorting through her mound of paperwork after a long day of work when she received an owl that was rather cryptic.

She frowned, recognizing it as a Hogwarts school owl that she had used on many occasions due to its reliability. But who was going to be writing to her with a Hogwarts owl?

Emma slit open the envelope to see familiar, spiky handwriting written with urgent quickness that she did not know it possessed.

EW,

Potter will be suspicious of one Draco Malfoy. Ease his suspicions. Malfoy could not have bought the necklace. This is a lie, but it is important. Burn this letter.

S

She turned over the heavy parchment in her hands, confused and bewildered. Severus Snape seemed almost desperate that she lie to Harry about Draco Malfoy, which could potentially put her in a difficult spot with Harry one day.

But Emma also knew that Severus Snape knew all of this when he wrote the letter, knew of what he was asking her to do, and she knew that he would not have done so had it not been absolutely essential. She picked up a new parchment and scribbled her hasty reply.

SS

Will see Harry at Christmas. Will do my best. Letter is being burned as the owl is leaving.

E

She hoped that would satisfy him, and she did indeed burn the original letter as the owl flew off to deliver the reply. Emma waved her wand to douse the flames when all that remained was charred bits that she then cleaned from her desk with another wave of her wand. She rubbed her hands together thoughtfully. Something was bad about all of this. If Malfoy was under suspicion and Snape was having her lie, than that probably meant that he was the one who actually had purchased the necklace and that he'd purchased it from Borgin and Burke's and that he did, in fact, unintentionally harm Katie in the process of using her for transporting the necklace.

And yet, Emma thought as she flipped through the file she'd kept detailing the incident from an Auror's perspective, Draco Malfoy had been accused by Harry Potter at the time of the incident, and it was Professor McGonagall, not Snape, who gave him an out.

Draco had not been in Hogsmeade that day. He had, in actuality, been serving a detention with Professor McGonagall.

But that didn't mean, Emma realized, that he would have been completely incapable of orchestrating everything. Any number of people could have been doing Malfoy's bidding, willingly or unwillingly. She chewed on her lip thoughtfully.

Then Emma realized, just as she was about to pull an interdepartmental memo toward her to write to Tonks, encouraging her to question Madam Rosmerta again, this time about Draco Malfoy and perhaps Slytherin females that had come to the pub in the last month….

She had had promised Snape that she would drop the matter, and so she dropped her quill, staring at the memo, which was in the exact spot where the burned parchment had been.

Could she really drop the matter so easily, now that she had a lead? Katie needed to be avenged, didn't she?

But then, Emma reasoned, Katie was going to make a full recovery. She'd discussed this with several Healers who had been on Katie's case. It would take time, and would certainly not be before Christmas, but Katie Bell would be absolutely fine, if only a bit behind on schoolwork.

Emma pulled at her hair nervously, looking at the stack of work before her.

If Katie was going to be fine and Emma had promised to Severus Snape that she would drop the matter, was there any justification in pointing out this revelation to Tonks? Could she endanger Snape's trust?

She knew what the answer had to be, but she didn't like it. Emma pushed the memo away again, knowing that she would have to file this information away for later. Because there would come a time when Harry would likely find out about her lie, and she would need to think about what she was going to say in the meantime. Would she protect Snape, or would she throw him to the dogs?

It would probably depend on the circumstances, but she found that she kept running through scenarios in her head as she tried to think about her work.

Emma could not focus on the cases in front of her and she realized that she really needed to call it a night. With a sigh, she closed the files in front of her, stacked the cases on her desk in accordance with what stage they were in, and put a few in her bag to take home and work on if she had a spare moment before bed or when she woke in the morning. She then checked her calendar to see what she was doing the next day, found that she and Fred had actually managed to get the day off for a proper date day, and decided that she might have time to work on the files after all.

She turned off the light on her desk and locked up her office, going home as soon as she reached and Apparition point, and sneaking into her bedroom, sparing only a brief glance at Fred's peaceful sleeping before crawling into bed beside him and allowing him to immediately pull him to her and cuddle her in his sleep. Emma had only a brief moment of enjoying the comfort of his arms before her head hit the pillow and she almost instantly fell asleep.

When Fred woke her up the following morning with kisses she recalled that they had a date, a proper day to themselves, and she smiled, tangling her fingers in his soft hair as he kissed her jaw.

"Good morning, love," she sighed, still thinking about her dilemma from the night before. Perhaps she had made her decision, but Emma was sure that she would be plagued on whether or not it was the right one until she was proved one way or the other.

"You should shower while I make breakfast," he muttered. "Hogwarts students are off. George is whinging that I'm not in the shop with him today."

Emma giggled, nodding, kissing Fred gently before climbing out of bed and going off to take a shower.

She decided on a quick on, mostly because she didn't want to put off the date at all, partly because she'd already taken care of all the time-consuming things that showers were good for the day before. Emma was utterly prepared for the date.

Sneaking back into the bedroom to dress, Emma pulled on a knee-length gray skirt that flared, and a bright, robin's egg blue shirt. She smoothed her hair as she dried it with her wand, making sure not to mess up the delicate process. When it was finished, Emma put on a knit hat and contemplated gloves before deciding to instead paint her nails quickly, a pleasant shade of blue that was rather close to her shirt. Two quick waves of her wand and they were dried.

Emma considered herself in the mirror, examining her face. Finally, she decided to put on just a small dash of makeup and a bit of lip gloss. Fred didn't like her heavily made up, and she found she didn't much like herself that way, either.

When she was finished, she went out and ate breakfast with Fred, who spent the whole meal with his hand on her leg.

"Where are we going?" she asked as she took his hand.

"There's this spot," he said happily, "in this village on the coast. It's lovely. We used to go there on holiday when I was little. There's a teahouse and everything."

"It sounds nice," Emma admitted, bracing herself as he turned on his heal.

They landed in a place that looked like the countryside but smelled of sea air. It was a cow field, and he laced his fingers in hers, frowning at the gulls that squawked obnoxiously overhead.

"Not a long walk, I hope?" Emma asked, looking down at her feet to avoid stepping unpleasantly wrong.

"Not far, I promise," Fred said nervously, looking at the ground where she was stepping. "Sorry, I didn't think... I mean, when George and I came it..."

"Don't worry about it," Emma lied. "It's fine."

She wasn't Katie. She didn't have issues with getting dirty. Even Katie didn't exactly mind if it was for Quidditch. But Emma had her limits, and cow dung on her shoes during a date was not her idea of a good start to the day.

Thankfully, they arrived at the teahouse in Stanmer with no mishaps for Emma's shoes or hair (which was a miracle, considering the aggressiveness of the seagulls). They ordered cream tea and Fred and Emma sat together cozily, looking out the window at the adorable little village.

"I'm thinking next time I take you to Yardley," he muttered, kissing her cheek. "There's this beautiful cathedral and a cute little village..."

"Can we do that when it's not so cold up north?" Emma said with a smile, kissing his lips gently.

He laughed and agreed and the little tea woman served them tea and scones. They were utterly delicious scones, too, so perfect that Emma almost thought they had Molly Weasley beat, although she never would have said so in front of any Weasley. The cream, as well, was perhaps the most perfect clotted cream she'd ever had.

"How did you find this place?" she asked Fred, grinning as he licked a bit of jam from the corner of his mouth.

"We were getting some potions ingredients in Brighton," Fred explained, "and there's some great tea places there. But we thought we'd check out some of the villages because sometimes you get interesting peddlers. And we stopped here."

"And did you find your peddlers?" she asked, trying to hold her teacup properly in spite of the way his fingers were dancing along her thigh.

"Of course," he muttered, grinning at her.

She wouldn't have asked what it was they were after. Even where she was concerned, most of what they developed was top secret, especially now that they were dealing with the Ministry on contract. Even Tien had learned how to be tight-lipped.

The day proceeded in a lovely way, and they spent much of the afternoon by the seaside.

"We're going to the Burrow for a bit tomorrow," Fred said casually as he picked up a pebble from the beach and turned it over in his hand. "Are you coming?"

Emma nodded, taking the pebble from his hand and putting it down before he did something childish with it. She took his hand and led him down the beach, away from the crowds of people amassed around the pier.

"I'm a bit nervous about seeing your mother," she admitted. "But it's been too long since I really spent some time with your family."

"It'll be fine," Fred said bracingly. "She loves you, remember? Besides, Harry will be there, and he takes up most of her attention when he's around. He's much skinnier than you."

Emma raised her eyebrows at him in a way that was mildly threatening and he blanched.

"You know, I mean, he's unhealthily skinny and you're perfect, dear," Fred said quickly, but Emma just smirked at him.

"Whatever you say, dear," she said in her least believing voice, teasing him as she took his hand and brought them back to the flat for the night.

She decided to let him sweat it out.

The following day was a quiet one, and when the boys were done in the shop Emma had read two Muggle novels and had started the third.

"Time to go to the Burrow, love," Fred said happily. "With any luck, we'll catch Mum making the boys help with dinner!"

Apparently, Ginny had sent them a note and mentioned that Harry and Ron were peeling sprouts...with knives, the Muggle way, and the twins thought it was hilarious. Emma just rolled her eyes and took Fred's hand, being transported to the garden of the Burrow.

"Fred! George!" Molly said happily as the three of them walked toward the house. "Oh, Emma, you're so thin!"

Emma just smiled tightly as Fred sang her defenses.

"Oh, come on, Mum," Fred teased. "She's nowhere near as skinny for her size as Harry is! Emma's perfect."

"Harry is very skinny," Molly said darkly, closing the door behind them. "Mind you, not nearly as bad as when we get him at the end of the summers." She turned to Emma. "It's a wonder he's not dead! I don't know what those Muggles feed him, but it's nowhere near enough!"

She hadn't been close with him at the time, but Emma certainly recalled seeing Harry Potter his first year at the Sorting. She had only learned who he was a few years prior, and she had been surprised to find him to be, for lack of a better word, scrawny. Perhaps it was as simple as growing into himself and perhaps it was some combination of Hogwarts food and Quidditch, but while he was still very skinny he had gained a significant amount of height and muscle since starting Hogwarts and Emma would no longer deem him scrawny.

The three of them followed Molly into the Burrow, where Ron and Harry were indeed peeling sprouts for dinner.

"Bless their hearts," George said when his mother left the room, elbowing Fred in the side for effect. "Look at them, preparing food...the Muggle way."

Emma didn't want to point out that it was basically the same way George prepared most food, seeing as he'd never paid much attention to cooking spells. That, coupled with his short attention span, made for very, very poor meals when prepared by George.

"Well, why don't you come over here and do it, then?" Ron whined. "It would be done so much faster, and then we could have a round of Quidditch or-"

"In this weather?" Emma said stiffly. "Absolutely not. You'd all die of cold."

There was a pause in which Emma realized just how much like Molly Weasley she had just sounded and then she blushed and shook her head, and led Fred into the other room where Arthur was helping Ginny rearrange furniture.

"Hello, Emma," Arthur said happily. "Been surviving work I see."

"Barely," she said back with a grin. "Hello, Ginny. How's school going?"

"Well enough," Ginny replied with a shrug, grinning at Fred and Emma's entwined hands. "I see you two are still going strong, then."

Emma blushed, the conversation hitting a bit too close to the elopement for comfort. Fred, always the champion of dissipating awkward moments, kissed Emma sloppily on the cheek and said, "Yes, she's still putting up with me, angel that she is. Merlin knows why. Perhaps it's because she thinks I'm dashing."

They all laughed and Emma rolled her eyes.

"Yes, that's it," she said teasingly. "Dashing. That's the word."

When Arthur had shifted the last chair into place they all sat down.

When Harry and Ron had finished peeling sprouts, they sat down on a sofa near the chair Fred had insisted he and Emma share, mostly because he liked to see the strange shades of red and purple his parents turned every time they glanced at Emma sitting on Fred's lap. Harry, too, seemed to be turning strange colors, and Emma thought it was a tiny bit amusing as well.

"How's school, Harry?" she said cheerfully, making him look at her to keep with polite custom.

"Erm, fine," he muttered, blushing furiously as he tried to turn away. Alas for him, Fred had caught on.

"Been enjoying the new Potions guy?" Fred pressed. "Hermione's been sending letters. Apparently you've got a hidden talent?"

Of course, Hermione had also said that it was a textbook that was giving him all of the added boost in Potions, but they weren't about to say that in front of Arthur and Molly.

Harry just shrugged noncommittally and Ginny rolled her eyes at Ron, who was pouting at something vague in front of him.

Arthur, obviously seeing where this was going, decided to take the spotlight off Harry and bring it back to himself.

"Emma," he said politely. "I know you three are coming for Christmas Eve. Do you know if Tonks is coming? She's been a bit evasive."

Emma frowned slightly, shifting a little on Fred's lap.

She knew Tonks would not be coming, because Remus was coming, and she didn't want to see Remus, not until he came to his senses and stopped being so obtuse.

"Erm, I think she decided not to come, no," Emma said slowly, not looking at Molly.

"Is her family having her, then?" Molly asked anxiously.

They were all worried about Tonks, of course, and being alone on Christmas would only make her more upset.

But Emma simply shook her head, unable to truthfully give them the comfort they all craved in regards to the depressed Tonks.

"No," she admitted sheepishly. "Her parents are on a Muggle cruise. It was something her father always wanted to do, I guess. They've had it planned for ages."

There was no need to say the words that worried all of them as they sat there thinking about the issues of Remus and Tonks.

Tonks was going to be spending Christmas alone, depressed, and probably distressed that Remus was nowhere near her.

And Emma half-wished to box his ears for the pain he was causing them all.