The wait felt interminably long.

Lily wished she had a way of locating the Diggory's in order to make introductions prior to the train's arrival. It was going to be exceedingly awkward no matter what, though, but that sort of thing had long since ceased to phase her.

The awkwardness was illustrated by the emptiness she felt surrounding her on the platform, distance put between her and the waiting parents. Well, Lily told herself, at least Hannah would have no trouble spotting her.

At last, the familiar rumble of the train sounded, growing louder by the second, until with a blast from its steam whistle, the Hogwarts Express rolled into the station. The scarlet locomotive Lily remembered so clearly came to a shuddering halt at Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

All around her were the sounds of joyous reunions, parents excitedly greeting their children, questions about the previous term, admonishments over school marks, and introductions to new friends. Lily listened half-heartedly, awash in the memories of her own trips home from school. She lingered on her final trip on the Express, on James' parents waiting here to greet them both and offer congratulations on their graduation.

It had been a dark time, the war well underway by then and far more bloody than the conflict's current form. Still, Lily would never forget the pride on her in-law's faces, the warm feeling of love and acceptance. Everything from back then seemed so much brighter, so much more innocent.

Family. Of everything she'd lost, it was the sense of belonging, of having people to love and be loved by that was simply impossible to give up. Even now, more than a decade later, Lily couldn't move on, couldn't let go-

"Miss Lily!" Hannah latched onto her midsection, her sound, scent, and feel overwhelming Lily's senses.

"Hello sweetheart!" she said. "You've grown!"

"I don't know about that," Hannah said, her voice bright and cheery. "It's not like I outgrew my clothes or anything."

"How was school?" Lily asked, then quietly added, "I missed you."

The arms around her squeezed tighter. "I missed you, too. Hogwarts was-"

"Hannah," a male voice said. "Mum and Dad are waiting."

Hannah's arms loosened so she could take a step back, and Lily had to fight to keep from holding onto her. It was too soon! She couldn't leave yet!

"Oh." The little girl's voice transformed from enthusiastic to subdued. "Alright."

A tall, shadowed blur approached. "I'm Cedric Diggory."

While every ounce of her wanted to scream 'Not yet!', Lily somehow managed to offer a hand in his general direction. "Lily Potter, it's a pleasure to meet you."

"It's great to be formally introduced! I've been to your bakery, but not in the last few years, I admit," Cedric said. "Trying to keep trim for quidditch, you know."

Lily smiled politely, though she wished she could focus solely on Hannah for a little longer. "You're on the Hufflepuff team, then?"

"Yep! Made the cut last year. I'm the seeker," he said proudly. "Mum, Dad, this is Lily Potter. She owns the bakery in Diagon Alley."

"Erm, yes, of course. How do you do, Mrs. Potter?" a woman asked. Apparently the rest of the Diggorys had arrived.

"Hello." Lily held a hand out towards the new voice, waiting nearly five whole seconds before receiving a lightning-quick handshake. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Diggory."

"Thank you, nice to meet you as well. We really must be going-"

Cedric interrupted his mother. "So how do you know Mrs. Potter, Hannah?"

"I've known her for years! I used to visit and help her around her bakery every day after my lessons, and she'd teach me all kinds of things. She gave me my own room and everything!"

"I see." The neutrality in Mrs. Diggory's voice was telling. "That was very nice of her. But speaking of rooms, don't you think it's time to get home so that you can see what we've set up for you there?"

It was now or never; time to act like a Gryffindor. "I was wondering if you had any plans for Boxing Day. I don't mean to be presumptuous, but I've missed Hannah so dearly these last months. I'd be happy to host you at my home, or even come to visit yours-"

"That's, uh, very kind of you, but I think it would be better if we spent the holiday as a family. Hannah needs time to adjust to this new situation, and the winter break really isn't that long to begin with. I'm sure you understand," Mrs. Diggory said in a rush. "Hannah, let's go."

"But-" Hannah's voice was quiet, watery. "I don't want to leave-"

"Hannah," Cedric interrupted. "It'll be alright. Go on ahead."

Lily tried to keep a brave face, putting a hand on Hannah's shoulder. The last thing she wanted was to cause the girl any problems with her… new family. "Send Hedwig to me in the next few days so she can bring my gift for you by Christmas, alright? Have fun, sweetheart!"

"Okay," Hannah said miserably. "Bye Miss Lily."

"We'll see you around, Mrs. Potter," Cedric said, following Hannah and his mother.

Once they were gone, Lily let out a heavy sigh. That hadn't gone well. She extended her walking cane and made for the Floo.

The ship broke through the surface of Lake Svetloyar, and Sirius couldn't hold back the grin that spread over his face as it did. Finally!

"Excited to see 'im, ain't ya?"

Sirius didn't spare Dung a glance, keeping his eyes locked on the ship as the boarding ramp extended from the weather deck. "Feels like it's been ages."

"Sure does. 'Ow's 'e been doing at school? Marks looking good?"

"Good enough. You know Harry's always had a hard time sitting still. Doubt that's changed in just a single term. I"m sure he-"

"There 'e is!"

Sure enough, Harry was among the first to descend down the ramp, bag bouncing behind him as he practically skipped down the ramp.

"Father!" Sirius met him halfway, embracing him tightly. "I've got so much to tell you!"

"I guess that means your first term went well?"

"It was the best!" Harry said. "Durmstrang is so big, it makes Blackriver look small! And it's really old, there's all sorts of neat secrets hidden away-"

Sirius smiled at the boy's exuberance, looking him over now that they stood an arm's length apart. Was it just his imagination, or had Harry grown several inches over the past months? He looked more and more like James every day, Sirius thought, exulting in the excitement his son radiated.

Allowing Harry to go to school was definitely the right choice, Sirius admitted. For all of his worries, it seemed like-

"Harry, won't you introduce me to your father?" asked a female voice speaking Russian. Sirius turned to see a girl - no, a young woman, rather - standing politely a few steps away.

Harry responded in the same language, forcing Sirius to focus to keep up with his words. "Oh, right! Sorry, I lost sight of you while you were saying goodbye to Maksim."

"My brother," she clarified, keeping her eyes on Sirius.

"Father, this is Masha Semonov. She's the friend I said would be coming over," Harry said, switching back to English.

He looked over the girl, idly examining her while controlling his surprise. While Harry had sent a letter informing him that he would be bringing a friend to visit during the winter holiday, Sirius hadn't expected it to be someone so much older. She wore a fur-lined cloak, unclasped in the front to reveal a rather slinky dress that was wholly inappropriate for the Russian winter.

What was going on here, exactly? "Masha Dmitriyevna Semonov. Rada poznakomit'sya," Masha said, stepping into Sirius' personal space and holding a hand out, palm down. 'A pleasure to meet you, indeed,' he thought sarcastically. Still, he managed to refrain from rolling his eyes.

"Hello, Masha, I'm Harry's father, Sirius. Do you speak English?" Her eyebrows knitted together, so he tried again in the only other language he spoke fluently. "Sprechen sie Deutsch?"

"Ja," she answered, her smile returning. "I didn't expect- Harry never mentioned that you were English."

That's good, he thought. Hopefully it meant the boy was sticking to the rules about maintaining his cover identity while at school. "Unfortunately, even after all this time I still speak German better than Russian."

"Perhaps you simply need more practice," the girl said suggestively, and it took considerable effort for Sirius to maintain a straight face.

He turned to Harry. "Well. Ready to head home?"

"Can we stop by the Invisible City first, and do some exploring?"

"Maybe later. For now, I want to hear about your first term." Taking hold of Harry's shoulder, Sirius sent Dung a significant look and tilting his head towards the girl. Dung nodded, pulling his wand out to cast several detection charms over Masha while Sirius side-alonged his son back to Blackriver.

Harry dropped his bag where they arrived, stretching his arms over his head. "You know, I actually missed this place!"

"It missed you, too," Sirius said. "C'mon, let's get you a snack before dinner."

He led the way to the kitchens, deciding to tackle the unexpected surprise while they had some privacy. "I didn't think your friend would be so much older than you. How did you come to meet Masha?"

"I ran across her in a corridor and we hit it off," Harry said, his amusement making it likely there was more to the story. "She and her brother help me a lot with my school work."

"How old is her brother?"

"He's my age. They were waiting at the shore with the other families back in September, remember?"

"I see. So they're from Kitezh?"

"Nope! From Olenek, east of here."

Sirius made a note to have some men check out that location (and the girl's family). "If her brother's the same age as you, why didn't he come along as well?"

A plate of finger sandwiches appeared on the table in front of them, and Harry's eyes narrowed. "You found new elves? Where are they?"

"Don't worry about that, kiddo. So, her brother? What's the story there?"

Harry took a sandwich, his eyes fixed on the far wall. No doubt considering how to surreptitiously free this batch of house elves, Sirius thought. He'd given them specific orders to remain invisible during the winter holidays precisely in order to avoid that. "Maksim's going to spend Christmas with their family."

"But not Masha?"

"She's a Seventh Year. She wants to come work here after she graduates." There it is, Sirius thought, his suspicion towards the girl cooling. She was trying to parlay favour from Harry into a job! "That's okay, isn't it?"

"Sure. There's got to be something she can do around here." Ambition he could deal with. "Alright, now that we've got that out of the way, why don't you tell me how you like your classes?"

Harry launched into a long-winded retelling of his first term, filled with stories of… living trees, invisible creatures, and gobstones competitions. Truthfully, Sirius had a hard time parsing what was factual and what was (likely) imagined.

Halfway through Harry's explanation of Durmstrang's organisational structure, Masha arrived with Dung.

"What are we talking about?" she asked, taking a seat next to Harry.

"The Assemblies," Harry replied. "Masha's in charge of one. She's nachal'stvo."

"She's what?"

"I head one of the Assemblies," she said.

"The one you're in?" Sirius asked Harry, but it was Masha who again replied.

"Net, Harry is under Anders Rasmussen. A Dane."

"And do you like him? Is he nice to you?" Sirius asked, determined to keep the conversation on his son, rather than the girl who'd invited herself to their home.

"He's alright, I guess. Pretty strict. He's always on about points and rankings."

Sirius laughed. "Yea, I know the type."

Harry finished a second sandwich and stood up. "Is it alright if I go to the sunroom?"

"How come?" He'd only just returned!

"There's some homework I wanted to finish. Plus, I wanted you to get a chance to talk to Masha."

He held back a sigh. Maybe Harry was right. Better to sort things out with the girl, find some position for her in Kitezh, then he and Harry could spend the rest of the holidays together. "Okay. But take Dung along with you. He's missed you, too."

Harry - who was already walking out of the room - laughed. "Yea right! Like I'm going to get anything done with him around!"

This kid, honestly. Sometimes he was so much like James it was hard to bear. Sirius turned back to Masha. "So-"

"I wasn't expecting the Volga Lord to be English. Resurrecting the Russian Ministry can't have been easy."

"It was a lot of work," Sirius agreed.

"Why did you do it?" she asked bluntly. "Does England not have enough problems, you need to come solve Russia's?"

"England's problems are not my own," he said. Not anymore, at least. "And I had good reason to want my new home to be safe and orderly."

"Indeed," was all she said. A stretch of silence settled over the table before she seemed to shake herself. "Your family is Čistokrevní?"

Her German lapsed into an unfamiliar word, leaving Sirius puzzled. "I'm sorry, what? I don't understand."

"Your parents were wizards?"

"Yes."

"And their parents, before them?"

"Yes. Is that important to you?"

Masha leaned forward in her seat, crossing her arms under her chest as if daring him to stare into her cleavage. "It might be. What about Harry's mother?"

Sirius' blood froze in his veins. "What about his mother?"

"Was she a witch, or mudla?"

Several seconds passed before he replied. When he did, Sirius couldn't keep the menace out of his voice. "There are only so many liberties a guest can take before they wear out their welcome."

Masha didn't respond to his threat the way he intended. "I only ask because Harry does not know anything about his mother. Her blood seemed a likely reason to keep such information from him."

"He talks to you about his mother?"

"He tries to. I imagine it isn't easy for him, not knowing."

Sirius swallowed uncomfortably, suddenly aware of how dry his mouth was. It had been years since Harry had brought up the topic with him. Did it really weigh so heavily on the child?

"She- she was…" he abruptly cut himself off. "I hadn't realised he thought so much about her. I'll be sure to speak with him during this break."

That clearly wasn't the answer she'd hoped for, but Masha relented. "I know he'll be happy to learn more."

"I… appreciate you bringing this to my attention. Thank you," he said. Gratitude out of the way, he eagerly moved on to a different subject. "I understand you're graduating this year?"

"That's correct."

"And you're seeking employment in Kitezh once you're finished? What is it you're looking to do?"

Masha smiled. "Whatever keeps me at yours and Harry's side."

"Hannah? It's time to get up, dear." It was the third time she'd knocked. "Please come down. We don't want to open presents without you."

It was nearly a week into the winter holidays, but Hannah didn't need that much time to know she didn't belong here. Not with these strangers.

The Diggorys - well, not Cedric, but still - were intolerable in entirely opposite ways. Amos was disinterested, and absent more often than not. When he came back from the Ministry each night, he'd offer her polite and perfunctory greetings before seeking out his son.

Florence, on the other hand, was unbearably suffocating. To Hannah, she always seemed to be hovering nearby with unending questions. How did Hannah like her new room ('It's nice')? Was there any specific meal she'd like to eat tonight ('Anything's fine')? Did she need any new clothes or school supplies ('No thank you')?

It was enough to make her want to scream.

She didn't belong here. She belonged with someone who already knew the answers to those questions.

Nevertheless, Hannah dragged herself out of bed, swiftly running a brush through her hair before tying it up into pigtails. That task accomplished, she changed out of her pyjamas into a jumper and a pair of trousers and finally made her way downstairs.

"There she is! Decided to have a lie-in again, did you?" Amos said, his greeting loud and jarring compared to the quiet of her room. "That's one way to enjoy your break from school!"

"Happy Christmas, Hannah," Cedric said, offering a seat on the sofa next to him. "Ready for presents?"

"Sure," she said. No sooner had she taken a seat before a wrapped box was pressed into her hands.

"This one's from me," Cedric said.

Hannah delicately undid the wrapping paper, neatly folding it and setting it to the side before opening the box. An assortment of candies from Honeyduke's was haphazardly arranged inside. "Thank you, this looks great."

"Anytime you need more, just let me know," he said. "I'm happy to pick you up anything you like on Hogsmeade weekends, 'least til you're old enough to go on your own."

"This one's from me," Amos said, passing over an envelope, plain but for the red bow around it.

Hannah used her nails to unseal it, glancing at the gift certificate to Madam Malkin's. Twenty-five Galleons was a fairly significant amount. "This is very generous, thank you very much."

"Wouldn't very well do for you to not have some nice clothes, now would it?" he said with an indulgent smile. "People expect the best from the Diggory's, you know."

"Yes, dear," Florence said. "We know. Cedric, this one's for you."

The gift-giving continued, with Cedric and Hannah opening the dwindling collection of presents. When it was over, Cedric hopped up and gathered his haul to take to his room. Amos questioned when lunch would be ready, and then wandered off to the study to go over department briefs.

Hannah stood also, preparing to likewise leave the sitting room, but Florence quietly called her over before she could make her escape. Reluctantly, Hannah approached the armchair her new guardian sat in.

"Yes?" Perhaps she wanted help preparing lunch. The Diggory's, for all of their supposed wealth, didn't own any house elves, with Florence maintaining the home and cooking all the meals herself.

"I have one more gift for you," she said, patting the arm of her chair.

Hannah remained standing. "Oh. Thank you."

"You haven't even seen what it is," Florence said with a smile. She reached down, lifting up a leather-bound book. It was big, larger even than one of her textbooks, but significantly slimmer in width.

"What's this?"

"It's a photo album."

"Oh. Thank you," Hannah said again. She really wanted to go back to her room.

"I hope you don't mind, but I asked some of your school friends if they had any photos of you from when you were younger." Hannah opened the book, seeing a photograph of her and Susan taken years ago on the first page. "I split it into three sections. The first is from your time with Madam Bones."

Hannah turned the page, seeing a picture of her at the Macmillan's house, seated in the shade while Susan and Ernie were somewhere off-camera. Judging by how small she was in the photo, it was likely one of the times when Ernie and Susan used to splash around in mud puddles after a rain. She was never one for ruining her clothes, regardless of the existence of scouring spells.

"The second portion is for photos of your family. I'm afraid it's rather sparse; you'll have to wait til you access the Abbott vault before you can put more pictures in there."

"And the third section?" Hannah asked, against her better judgment.

Florence reached out, taking hold of a pre-placed bookmark and flipping towards the end of the album. A photograph of her standing awkwardly with the Diggory's looked back at her. "It's for us to fill, to remember the good times we spend together as a family."

"No." Hannah shoved the album back to Florence. "You're not my family!"

"Hannah-"

"I have a family! And when my dad's better, I'm not going to have to live here anymore!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply-"

Hannah ran up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door behind her and crying into her pillow.

He crept through the corridor, senses carefully attuned. He'd long since memorised every creaky floorboard and squeaky hinge. He was silence personified, practically invisible.

His target tonight tried to hide from him. Oh, yes, he'd done an enviable job of cloaking his location, up to and including turning himself actually invisible. But Harry wasn't so easily deterred. Such tricks wouldn't work on him.

That's the thing about house elves, he mused as he neared the cupboard that Topper had made into his abode. Their magic was rooted in chaos, the same as his. There was no hiding from him.

Measuring his breathing so as not to alert the sleeping elf, Harry reached out and gently took hold of the cupboard's handle. He silently counted to three, then jerked the door open.

"Hi! I'm Har-"

"I's not 'sposed to talk to you!" Topper cried out, instantly alert and awake. "Master say Topper doesn't hear little master's call!"

"I only want to talk for a bit-"

"NO!"

Topper vanished with a pop, and Harry sighed. His eyes closed for a moment, seeking out the elf's destination. There were only so many places he could go, and for all of its grandeur, Blackriver was still a single estate.

In the end, Harry decided to let him go for now. There were still more than two weeks left of winter break. Plenty of time for him to convince Topper of the value of liberation.

The overhead light flicked on. "Harry? It's ten o'clock, what are you doing up?"

"Just getting a glass of water," he said, the excuse springing from his lips without a second thought.

"Having trouble sleeping?" his father asked. "Anything you want to talk about?"

"Not really," Harry replied, boosting himself onto the counter to get a cup from the cupboard. He dutifully filled it with water from the sink to sell his lie. "Well, goodnight!"

"You don't look very tired. Want to sit and chat for a bit?"

"Um, alright." Harry walked over to the kitchen table and sat down across from his father. "I'm not in trouble, am I?"

Sirius laughed. "No, you're not in trouble. Although before you go back to school, I want to go over your transfiguration homework with you. I know it's not your favourite class, but you can do better than the marks you got."

"Alright," Harry grumbled, taking a sip of water. Time for a subject change. "How do you like Masha? Did you give her a job yet?"

"Not yet. I have to admit, I was rather surprised to see you made friends with someone so much older than you. Did she seek you out when you got to Durmstrang?"

Harry laughed, remembering his nighttime introduction to Masha in the corridors, dodging her curses. "No. It was sort of the other way around."

His father shifted back and forth in his seat, looking intensely uncomfortable. "Uh… hm. Is it that-" he stuttered for a moment, then he squared his shoulders. "Do you find you're more curious about girls at school lately?"

Harry blinked. "About… girls…?" The girls in his classes weren't any more interesting than the boys, which is precisely why he preferred exploring the castle and searching out adventures. "I guess they're alright."

"Right." That response was accompanied by a sigh, and Sirius relaxed in his seat. "That's good."

Finished with his glass of water (and this strange conversation), Harry stood up to put his glass in the sink.

"Just a moment, don't go yet." Harry obediently sat back down. "Masha mentioned something to me a few days back. She told me how you talk about your mother to her."

Harry froze in his seat. It was really only the one time… Masha told him that?

"I told you before we'd talk about it in the future, and, you know, you're growing up so fast, going away to school and everything. If you like, we could have that talk-"

"YES!" he all but shouted. "Yes. I want to know."

Harry practically vibrated in his seat. Trembling hands raised his glass to his lips, only to recall it was already empty. Strange. His mouth felt like he'd tried to swallow a ball of cotton.

"She was… very smart. Always did well in school, even though she didn't start with the same advantages as everyone else." Harry wanted to ask what that meant, but he was scared to even breathe for fear of breaking whatever spell made his father tell him this. "She got along with just about everyone, but didn't make friends very easily. Your mum, she was loyal to her friends. Once you earned her favour, it took a lot to lose it. She was like your dad that way."

He paused, peering across the table at Harry. "Are you alright? Is this okay, us talking about this?"

Harry swallowed. "Please, keep going," he whispered.

"Your mum was ambitious, and she worked hard to realise that ambition. She was determined to make something of herself. Nobody was surprised when she made prefect or Head Girl." Sirius smiled softly at him. "That's not to say she was always by-the-book. You don't get all of your mischief from your dad."

"What else?" he asked, desperate for him to keep going.

"She was very pretty. Your dad decided she was the girl for him the first time he saw her, if you can believe that." Sirius laughed, his voice taking on a far-off quality. "We all said he was crazy, but wouldn't you know it, he really was dead serious."

Father always got this way when he talked about Harry's dad. "I- can you-" Harry fumbled his words, feeling like he was walking on eggshells. "Can you tell me more about my moth- about Mum?" Using that word as a name, rather than simply the abstract term, felt so foreign in Harry's mouth. 'Mum'.

He had to know more. "What happened to her?"

"There was a lot of violence in Britain at that time. A Dark Lord was growing in power, and we all - your parents and I - joined the fight against him."

This part of the story he already knew - about the evil wizard that killed his dad, how his own special abilities then destroyed the evil wizard. "That's how my dad died, right?"

"Yes." That was all his father said, for several seconds. Long enough, in fact, that Harry was preparing to open his mouth to ask for more detail when Sirius spoke again. "Your mum, she- things were difficult for her after your dad's death. Her whole life came apart - not just James, but her home, her family, all of her possessions. That's how I came to take you."

Harry was confused. She was still alive, wasn't she? Didn't they have plenty? Why wasn't she here? "Father-"

"Harry, you should go to bed. I promise we'll talk more again sometime - soon, even - but… this is difficult. It's hard to remember the bad times."

He wanted more information. He wanted answers. Nevertheless, it wasn't easy to see his father so sad. Sirius told him his whole life how great of a man his dad was, how he and Sirius were brothers in all but blood. Harry knew the memories were still painful.

"Okay. I'm glad we talked about this." He meant it. Even the small crumbs of information were precious, treasures that he clung to and repeated over and over in his mind. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Sure. I love you, son."

Harry went over and embraced his father. "Love you, too."

He left the kitchen, climbing the stairs, mind awash in what he'd learned. He tried to imagine his mum, adding the fragments his father just told him to his mental image. Pretty, popular, smart. Everyone probably wanted to be her friend.

Harry pictured a faceless woman with a crowd of people around her, all of them staring in awe. They probably came to her and asked all sorts of questions, and of course his mum had all the answers. How could she not? She was really intelligent, and beautiful, and- and…

The door of one of the guest rooms opened, light spilling into the corridor. "You're still up?"

… and likeable, Harry thought, turning to face Masha. His mum was probably the most charming and charismatic witch in the whole world. How else would his dad have fallen in love with her at first sight? And she must have been the most popular girl in the whole school if they made her Head Girl, right?

Those thoughts all slotted in his mind, like the last piece of a puzzle clicking into place. Harry found the intention he'd been missing, the will and desire to be liked.

"Are you alright?" Masha started to ask, pausing when he reached into the sleeve of his dressing gown and withdrew his wand. "Harry?"

He sighted his crooked wand at her, and pictured his mother one more time. A purple flash lit up the corridor.

"Bayushkee bayu." Harry wished her a goodnight and continued on to his room.

Once Harry went upstairs, Sirius paced Blackriver restlessly. It was plain how much Harry wanted to know more, but how much more could Sirius tell him? Could he really sit there and lie straight-faced about how his mother wasn't the reason Voldemort found them? Pretend like the entire first year of Harry's life she hadn't holed herself up in hiding and spent Harry's birthright so profligately that Sirius had to bail them out?

And if he did lie to make the child feel better, didn't that diminish James' sacrifice?

It was late, and in what was a rare move for him, Sirius for some reason sought answers at the bottom of a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey. The alcohol didn't offer much clarity, but it did ease some of the burden, the liquid blanket offering comfort to his tortured indecision.

Moving to pour himself another, Sirius blearily peered at how much was left in the bottle. In the parlour's dim firelight, it was tough to make out.

"Don't worry," a voice said from just behind him. "I brought another."

He didn't reply, simply holding out his tumbler for Masha to refill, before she poured one for herself and joined him on the sofa.

"I've heard drinking alone is overrated," she started. "Better to share with others, don't you think?"

Sirius' expression, still facing the fire, turned resentful. This was all her fault. If Harry hadn't talked to her about his mother, he wouldn't be in this mess. "I think I've already shared plenty tonight. Thanks for the advice, though."

They drank in silence for several minutes.

"What is the occasion?" she eventually asked. "Celebration or consolation?"

"It's Harry," he answered almost involuntarily, the alcohol loosening his tongue. "It's not easy to do it all alone."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm his father. It's my job to keep him safe, to protect him." Sirius took another drink. "Right?"

"Ja, this is so. But Harry isn't one to hide away from risks, is he?" He only grunted in response. "What did he do this time?"

"It's what I did. I told him about his mother…" Sirius trailed off, before belatedly adding, "… sort of."

Masha quietly regarded him, setting her drink on the coffee table. "And this is a difficult topic for you?"

"Yea."

"Because you loved her?"

"What? No."

"Then what? What is it you're protecting Harry from?"

Sirius turned to her, to tell her it was none of her business, and that he didn't much care for this girl intruding into his home and his family. He meant to say that, but as his eyes landed on the Russian girl, the words crumbled to ash on his tongue.

She only wanted the best for them, didn't she? I mean, she wasn't even in the same House (or whatever Durmstrang called it) as Harry, and she'd been looking out for him. Most students her age wouldn't have given a lonely firstie a second thought, but Masha went out of her way to befriend Harry.

Maybe he'd been all wrong about her. Maybe he could trust her. No, he should trust her.

"I took Harry from his mother when he was only a year old."

"No doubt with good reason," she said. For some reason, her approval was more comfort than all the firewhiskey in the world.

"I- I thought so. I still do, actually," he said, his voice hesitant at first but gaining conviction. "She couldn't care for Harry, couldn't raise him properly. I did what was best for him."

"She's still alive, then? Back in… England?"

Sirius let out a sharp exhalation, setting his empty glass aside and reaching out for the glass she'd left on the table. "Yea. I bought her a shop in our main commercial district. The best of everything - wards, equipment, merchandise. All the bells and whistles." He drained the tumbler. The world was moving quite a lot, at least according to his bleary eyes. "I donno. Maybe I felt guilty about taking 'im."

"If she traded her son for riches, you shouldn't. That's no mother, especially not for a child as special as Harry."

He drunkenly nodded along with her words. Masha was a good person. If she thought he was right, then he must be. Right?

"Your son is amazing, you know. But I worry about him. He needs a feminine influence. All your mercenaries and manservants can't replace maternal affection."

Holding his head up was growing more and more difficult, so Sirius shifted to face Masha, leaning his head against the back of the couch to continue staring at her. "He had a nanny. I think Harry loved her. Hilde." The name lingered on his lips. He missed Hilde, ached for her in a way he hadn't in years.

"What happened to her?"

"Blackriver was attacked. She was killed."

Masha shifted closer, placing a delicate hand on his cheek. "Tragedy seems to follow you closely, milord. It's a heavy burden to bear by yourself."

He sucked in a deep breath. "Harry's worth it."

"He really is."

Masha might have kept talking, but all of the alcohol and emotional turmoil finally forced his eyes closed. Sirius surrendered to slumber, head falling to rest on Masha's lap. All he felt was comfort and safety, Masha's fingertips delicately tracing paths through his hair.

"What're you up to?"

Hannah glanced up at Cedric. "Working on my Charms essay."

He reached down and plucked the textbook she hadn't really been reading to look for himself. "With your DADA book? I don't know, I think Flitwick might notice."

She sighed. "Did you need something?"

"Actually, I do. C'mon, we're going to go out."

"Okay," Hannah easily agreed. Even sitting to the side while Cedric spent time with his schoolmates was preferable to being here.

"That's it? You're not interested in where we're going?"

She smiled in spite of herself. Cedric always had a way about him. "Alright, where are we going?"

He winked. "It's a surprise."

Hannah giggled, and obediently followed him downstairs, making their way to the parlour towards the fireplace. Her smile melted away as they met Florence, holding out a bowl of Floo powder. Was she coming along, as well?

"I really think I ought to come."

"Muuuummmm," Cedric whined. "I've got friends waiting for me there. I can't show up with my mother!"

"Well you can go with them, and Hannah and I will go to Madam Malkin's. Wouldn't that be nice?" she asked Hannah, who shrank more into Cedric's shadow.

"We've spent the whole break at home! Besides, Hannah asked to come with me."

"Alright." Florence relented, allowing the two of them to take a pinch of powder and toss it into the flames, calling out 'The Leaky Cauldron' before stepping into the emerald flames.

"So where are we meeting-" Hannah started to say, but Cedric was already tugging her along.

"C'mon! Stay close, Diagon's crowded today."

She dutifully followed him as he navigated the crowded main street. In short order, they arrived at his intended destination, although it was one Hannah admittedly never saw coming.

"What're we doing here?"

"Do you not want to go?"

"No, I do! I really do!"

Cedric smiled, loosely hanging an arm over her shoulder. "Okay. Well, I'll be back in three hours. Happy Christmas, Hannah."

She smiled as he walked off, disappearing shortly after behind amidst passersby. Hannah pushed the door open, happiness and contentment fighting for supremacy inside of her at the sound of the familiar bell.

There were a few children examining the pastry case, and what looked like a muggleborn family snacking on a batch of biscuits.

"Hello, what can I do for you today?"

Hannah didn't hold back, she darted forward, nearly bowling the woman over when she collided into her, wrapping her arms around her as best she could and squeezing with all she was worth.

"Miss Lily!"

"Hannah? Oh, goodness! I'm so glad to see you!"

"Me too," she whispered into Lily's flour-dusted apron. "Me too."

It had been far too long, she realised, since she'd come home.

A/N: 6300 words. Edited only by me. Please share your thoughts in a review!

'Bayushkee bayu' is a Romanized version of 'Goodnight' in Russian.

I can't see Hannah accepting the Diggory's. Especially for a twice-orphaned girl, she's not interested in mothering from someone new. I think it would be really frustrating and even infuriating to have no control over your life that way. So Hannah's hitting her rebellious phase earlier than most kids.

Wanted to say thank you to my discord group for their support and kind words.

~Frickles