Lavender tried to take things easy for the few days leading up to Christmas, resting her body and mind after her most recent full moon experience and trying to prepare for the emotional turmoil she knew would be the holiday. Seamus stayed the nights at her house but they didn't speak, and he continued his trend of returning after she was asleep and leaving before she woke. Brenda closed the shop down two days before Christmas and left for the south of France and Lavender just about drove herself insane with all the spare time she suddenly found herself with.
She didn't sleep Christmas Eve, instead remaining up all night with her thoughts. She remembered when she was little, waiting anxiously with her sister for their parents to hide their presents under the tree and hoping against hope for snow in their little home in the suburbs of London. Things had been so much simpler then, and while she missed the little girl she had been, she wouldn't go back to being that scatter-brained fool who was so enraptured with a boy she didn't see how in love he was with someone else.
She drifted off to sleep and woke in her own bed. The smells lingering in the air were enough to tell her that Seamus had come and gone, depositing her in bed from the couch and tucking her in, but that he hadn't stayed. Sighing lightly and trying not to think too hard on that that meant, she got up and fixed herself breakfast, brooding on what to do at her family's place.
Lavender chose her clothing carefully for her visit, selecting a cream colored sweater that had a high collar but wasn't a turtleneck. Just because she was ashamed of her scars didn't mean she wanted to cover them up for her family. They were supposed to love her no matter what, like the Weasleys did with Bill, and she couldn't help but harbor a little resentment for her mother and father and sister, who were all scared of her. She also donned a pair of dark, opaque leggings and a green skirt to go over them, as well as applying her usual liberal coats of foundation and powder to cover the lesser scars. She left her hair down to help cover the marks on her temple and the nearly-healed gashes down her neck.
When she showed up in the afternoon, carrying her presents in a basket and her wand in her other hand, she looked at her childhood house with the eyes of an outsider. Her parents didn't seem to want her to call it home anymore and so slowly it was becoming the house of a stranger. It wasn't a comfortable feeling, but rather one she was resigned to.
The door was answered by her sister Daphne. The younger girl wrapped her in a quick hug, eyes brushing over Lavender's scars like oil on water. "No Seamus? Mum and Dad wanted to see him." Her sister asked, always terribly blunt.
"He's working," Lavender replied shortly, stepping into the house to curtail any other personal questions. She would like to see Seamus too.
Dinner wasn't quite as awkward as she had feared it was going to be. The last time her parents had seen her in person was the day before the full moon a few months ago, and she had been... wild, to put it delicately. Maybe the solution to her problems with her parents was just to go after the full moon, when she was still tired from the night and recovering from having the blood hum in her veins.
They exchanged gifts after dinner. Most of what Lavender received was gift certificates. It was less personal – her mother used to give her a beautiful dress every Christmas, but Lavender supposed with her new scars her mother would find that distasteful – than usual, but she appreciated the thought nontheless. They shared a glass of wine by the fire and Lavender excused herself around nine. Her family made the usual noises to get her to stay, but she could hear the slight notes of relief in her mother's voice as she said it, and she gave them her regrets and swept out the door before the tears could start. It didn't matter how many times she told them she wasn't a werewolf.
When Lavender left her parent's house, she was delighted to feel the first few flakes of snow. When she looked up the sky was a strange grey that reflected the orange lights of the city around her, promising a night of snow. It made her happy and she had a slight smile on her face all the way home, stopping only a few times to try and catch snowflakes on her tonight. It felt like such a silly, childish thing to do, but it made her remember the Hogwarts winters before everything fell apart and that was a memory she hoped to cling to as long as possible.
The wine in her system, even though it was only a small amount, made her feel lighter than usual. She poured another glass for herself when she got home, fishing a dusty bottle out of a cupboard. She couldn't find a wineglass (she wasn't even sure she had any) and so settled for wine in a tea mug and then went over to stare out her window at the falling snow. She pulled a blanket around her shoulders against the cold seeping in through the poorly-fit windowpanes. The snow was falling more thickly now, fast flakes hitting the ground and sticking.
Seamus came in that night late, as his new usual was. He seemed surprised to see her up and standing in the window. "Merry Christmas," he said, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. They tiptoed around each other like they were on cracking ice now, and Lavender felt a stab of sadness in her heart as she smiled up at him. "Merry Christmas," she returned, looking at the clock on the mantle and seeing that it was long past midnight and so not really Christmas any more.
"I'm sorry I'm late," he muttered.
She nodded as if accepting his apology, but the silence still hung heavy and hurt on the air. If he was really sorry about coming home so late, on Christmas of all nights, he wouldn't have done it. Or he would have let her know, rather than just hoping she would be asleep and slipping in like a thief.
The silver and gold of his wrapped presents on the mantle caught her attention and she stood to go get them, letting her blanket fall to the couch. The flat was cool and she felt the hairs raise on her arms and goosebumps form, but she ignored them as she fetched his presents and went to stand in front of him. She could feel the cold from the outside radiating from his leather jacket and see beads of water where snowflakes had clung to him. His hair was mussed and wet as well and she wanted to
"Do you want to open your presents?" She asked, offering them to him hesitantly. They made eye contact briefly and she tried a smile. "It's Christmas, after all."
The look he gave her back when he met her eyes was full of hope and fear all at once, and it broke her heart just a little. "Yeah," he agreed, slipping a hand into his own pocket. "I have your present too."
They went to sit on the couch and he drew out a small box wrapped in green paper. They traded gifts and she picked delicately at the paper. He was much less careful about his, tearing into the paper with an excitement that made her laugh a little. He had unwrapped his completely by the time she had carefully set the green paper aside.
She popped open a small black velvet box to reveal a lump of glossy white-blue stone set in shining gold on a fine gold chain. "It's a moonstone," Seamus explained quietly. "One of the people on the case says it can sometimes help with a werewolf's full moon experience. I know you're not a werewolf, but I thought that since the full moon can be really hard for you sometimes..."
"Thank you," she said with what felt like her first genuine smile in days. She leaned forward and kissed him gently, letting her lips linger on his and breathing in his scent. He let out a breath and pulled her to him, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and cupping her cheek with his other hand, mouth moving against hers with a wanting that stirred her desire. Heat flashed across her body and she moaned lowly into him, sliding across the couch to press herself up against him, ignoring his cold jacket and wet hair, only wanting to lose herself in him like she had over the summer.
He seemed just as desperate to cling to her, twining a hand through her curls and drawing her close, their breaths entangling. She undid his jacket with nimble fingers, pushing it down over his shoulders with a force that surprised him. He drew back from her for just a moment to give her a half smile before she closed the gap between them again and stripped him of his shirt as well. Her sweater was quick to follow and then their skin was pressed together. She could hear and feel his heartbeat frantic against his ribs, mirroring her own.
Seamus drew back once more, eyes hot with lust and desire, then picked her up and carried her to their bedroom. When he lay her down on the bed he did so with exquisite tenderness that belied the look on his eyes and the heat of his body.
There was a desperation to their lovemaking that Lavender hated. The sex was amazing, as it always was with someone who you had known for so long, who had had all the time needed to discover the particular parts of each other's bodies that were the best ones for evoking a response, but there was a desperation to their touches that made Lavender want to cringe away. It wasn't like the first time with a stranger, because there was a frenetic excitement to that kind of sex. No, instead it felt like two people clinging to something that had ended a long time ago, and that feeling alone was enough to make her feel like crying.
After, he lay sleeping in their bed while she sat on the side of it, staring out the window at the still falling snow. With a quiet rustle of the sheets she stood up, turning around and tucking the sheets up over Seamus's shoulders to keep him warm. She padded back out into the living room and fetched her present, slipping the gold chain of the moonstone over her head. It settled against her sternum, the metal cool but quickly heating to match her skin. The moonstone itself seemed to glow gently in the darkness as she examined it.
It was a sweet present, and it did seem to calm her roiling emotions slightly. Of course, she wasn't sure if that was because he was here and she was awake and he had given her a gift to remind her that he still loved her or if it was because of the moonstone itself. It was good of him to try and help her with her new life. At the same time, he wouldn't know anything about moonstones unless he was on this stupid case, trying to hunt down some rogue werewolf in the name of protecting her. She'd rather have him around than a necklace.
She walked over to the window and looked out at the snow outside, which was now several inches thick, and felt incredibly alone even though Seamus was just one room over.