Professor McGonagall was going around taking names for the students who would be staying during winter break. One evening, I saw that she was about to approach Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the Great Hall.
"Professor," I said, stepping towards her, "could I take that?"
Professor McGonagall nodded and allowed me to bring the parchment over to Harry.
As I approached them, I recognized that Ron and Harry were playing Wizard's Chess. When Ron's knight expertly disposed of Harry's bishop, it broke the bishop into little pieces. Hermione frowned and said in a scandalized voice, "That's barbaric."
Ron smiled smugly and replied matter-of-factly, "That's Wizard's Chess."
"Excuse me," I said. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I'm taking sign-ups for students who'd like to stay at Hogwarts over winter break."
"Oh, yes, please," Harry said.
He looked up at me. It was the first time I'd been so close to him, and I blinked in surprise as I suddenly came across pair of eyes I never expected to see again- Lily's eyes.
"Hello Professor!" Ron greeted me cheerfully, shaking me out of surprise.
"Hello, Ron," I said, smiling.
I sat beside them and handed Harry the parchment and quill.
"Congratulations on your first win as Gryffindor Seeker," I said to Harry as he bent over the paper to sign his name. "It was an excellent, although somewhat unexpected, first catch."
Harry paused in his writing to look up at me. He smiled sheepishly. "I think I just got lucky, Professor. Oliver never did train me to catch a Snitch with my mouth."
I tried to smile back at him, but my brow furrowed slightly. It felt so strange thinking that Harry didn't know who I was. He calls me "Professor". In another world, he'd be calling me Auntie Ray. And there'd be Uncle Pads, Uncle Moony, and Uncle Worm.
But I refused to be one of those adults who tried to get close to Harry by saying I knew Lily and James. I wanted my relationship with Harry to be genuine, even if that meant holding back. And for now, I wished Harry would enjoy the simple wonderment of being at Hogwarts for the first time and the eye-opening, though sometimes difficult, experience of learning magic for the first time. Although Dumbledore clearly wanted to train Harry for some grand masterplan that I couldn't yet comprehend, I wanted Harry to live free of his complicated heritage for at least a few years.
"Professor, excuse me." An overly curious voice cut into my thoughts. "I'm Hermione Granger. If you don't mind me asking, what subject do you teach?"
"I teach Ancient Runes," I replied, turning to her. "It'll be one of the electives you can take in your third year."
Harry passed over the parchment and quill to Ron.
"You're staying here for the holidays?" I asked Ron.
"Yes, my parents decided to go visit my brother Charlie in Romania," Ron explained, signing his name in big loopy letters. I winced a little as I knew Professor McGonagall would "tut" at me at the state of her quill when I gave it back. I wonder how long Ron's quills lasted without snapping or going complete flat. The lines of his words at the end of his essay were probably a great deal wider than the words at the beginning. A truth that would not be too unwelcome, I thought wryly to myself, as I remembered the pain of having to write the last remaining inch of an essay.
"Oh, that reminds me," Ron said, pausing and pressing the quill into the parchment, flattening its nib and causing a big ink blot to appear at the end of his name, "Bill asks me to send his regards, Professor. He's in Egypt now, studying curse-breaking of the pyramids."
I held back from commenting on his writing habits as I responded, "That's wonderful to hear. Thank you for passing along the message."
"And what about you, Ms. Granger?" I asked, nodding at the sign-up parchment.
"I'll be going home," Hermione answered promptly. "My parents are expecting me back, since they'll both be on vacation. They're both er- dentists."
"That's lovely," I said. "My father was a carpenter and handyman and he was always so busy during Christmas because he had to put up all the lights around Christmastime."
I took back the piece of parchment and the quill, now tested of its grit, from Ron.
"Well, have a wonderful Christmas, all of you." I got up and started to leave. But, unable to help myself, I turned around and said, "And Harry? Please be careful. You nearly gave me a heart attack in that last Quidditch match."
I tried to play it off with a matter-of-fact nod as I turned around, but I did glimpse the momentary confusion on Harry's face as I walked away.
As it was, I nearly ran straight into Neville. "Oops, sorry, Neville-" I said, hastily reaching out to grab his small shoulders. He looked up at me, alarm written all over his young chubby face. I smiled down at him. "I've just been taking names for students staying at Hogwarts for winter break. But I expect Augusta will want you back."
Neville nodded. "Gran says she wants me to meet a bunch of people from the Ministry. But what's the point?" He lowered his eyes as he murmured, "I'm no good at magic."
"What do you mean?" I asked, almost wanting to laugh. He had only finished one semester of school. How could he know what he was capable of? But knowing how hurtful it would be to play this off as something less than serious, I knelt down and said, "Neville, magic is something that takes a lifetime to figure out. What you can or can't do in your first semester at Hogwarts isn't indicative of your magical ability."
Neville nodded, but he still wouldn't look me in the eyes. "It's just... Gran says my Mum and Dad were really good from the beginning."
I paused. My heart sank a little. If Alice knew that her son was thinking this way, she would shower him with love and affection to make him feel better. Neville would have been much more confident, in so many ways, had his mother and father been in his life.
"It'll come to you," I said, managing to keep my voice steady. "Don't worry, Neville."
"Thanks, Professor," he replied shyly.
I watched him walk past me and join the others at the Gryffindor table.
Quirrell, to my relief, was also leaving for Christmas vacation and Dumbledore, as always, was staying. This fortunate combination gave me enough peace of mind to leave for a few days to visit Jamie and Sola. Before I left, I enchanted a Christmas Wizard Cracker to contain a quality Wizard's Chess set. Wizarding Christmas Crackers are filled with objects that of far better quality than found in normal Muggle Christmas Crackers, but even so, they don't come with full-blown Wizarding Chess Sets. I gave the Wizarding Cracker to McGonagall and asked her to make sure that Harry received it without knowing that I had planted it there. I also gave McGonagall a snow globe-shaped night light, except that with this night light, there was a miniature figure of her Transfiguration classroom inside, and everything was aflame.
"To remind you of who your best students were," I said, grinning. "It's also handy if you need to go to the loo at night-"
"Yes, thank you, Raylynx," McGonagall said crisply. "I look forward to seeing you again after Christmas."
I was at my sister's house, playing with my three-year-old niece. Her name was Emily, named after our mother. I produced little puffs of colored smoke for her to chase. She ran around happily, giggling and squealing when she managed to "catch" one only to have it disappear from his chubby little grasp. When she nearly tripped over herself, I grabbed her and hugged her to me. Emily curled up against me and fell asleep in my arms. I was watching her sleep and humming her the lullaby from Regulus' music box when Sola came in.
She sat next to me.
"Don't you think it suits you?" Sola asked quietly.
"What does?"
"Being with a kid," Sola replied.
I smiled. "Not at all. Em just happens to be a very forgiving child. How does it feel to be a mother?"
Sola blew out a breath. "Honestly? It's tough. This isn't something that I can study for or prepare for. I never know if what I'm doing is right. It's ironic, isn't it? I always acted motherly towards you, but it turns out that I'm no good at the really thing. I really could have used Mum and Dad's help."
Sola reached over and I gently shifted Emily over to her.
"But then I realize how much I love her, and I know that I've just got to trust myself to sort it all out when the time comes." Sola kissed Emily gently on the forehead.
She got up, and I walked with her to Emily's nursery. Sola placed her in her crib and started to tuck her favorite blanket around her.
"What about?" Sola asked me. "What does family look like to you?"
"I have you and Jamie," I answered. "And now Em."
"You know that's not what I mean. Is there anyone in your life at the moment?"
"To share a family with?" I laughed a little at how ridiculous the idea sounded. "No, not even close."
"It doesn't have to be sharing a family yet," Sola said, and I could tell she was bothered, maybe a little sad, that I had laughed at her question. "I was just wondering if there's anyone who's remotely interesting to you in a romantic way."
I shook my head. "Plenty of interesting people," I said, "but none of them romantically. You do understand that I'm around Dumbledore and McGonagall a lot, don't you?"
At time, Sola laughed. "All right," she admitted. "So the Hogwarts staff isn't the most opportune group for romance."
"But I don't think that's the problem for you," Sola said to me.
I looked over at her. I knew where this was going.
"Sola," I started to say, to stop her.
But she asked anyways, "It's still because of that boy, isn't it? That boy who came looking for you once. Sirius Black."
Before I could deny it, Sola said, "Chris told me that you're on a watch list at the Ministry because you're causing a ruckus protesting for his freedom. It makes me wonder if it was more than a crush. How involved were you with him? Were you two together?"
"Something like that. For a brief time," I admitted. Though my answer might sound vague, it was the honest truth that I never really knew what Sirius and I were. All of those stolen moments during the war. We hadn't even been able to trust each other, and that had been terribly hard and made our relationship into something fragile, so fragile that at times it didn't feel real. But my memory had taken those strange, climb-out-of-your-window-in-the-morning, keep-your-secrets-to-yourself, every-date-is-a-Sunday-late-brunch-in-bed-type-of-date collection of moments and strung them together into some kind-of fairytale love story that now felt like a dream of golden, better days. My heart thumped painfully inside my chest. Part of me wanted to heal it, and the other part of me wanted to rip it out.
Only vaguely aware of my bipolar suffering, Sola looked at me with careful eyes, but she kept speaking, and I realized that she had been meaning to say this to me for a long time. She had probably even taken the pains to practice what she wanted to say with her husband, Chris.
Sola spoke in a very quiet and composed voice, "But Ray, you must know that even if he's innocent, he's gone."
"How do you mean?"
"No one comes back from Azkaban whole," Sola said somberly. "I've seen prisoners come out. They're not-." She stopped herself and then said gently, "I think I've said that before, but Ray, you can't stop your life because of one person."
"I haven't stopped-" I protested, but Sola shook her head to show that she wasn't accusing me.
"I know," Sola said, putting her hand on my arm. "I know that you have moved on brilliantly in a lot of ways. And I know that you were stronger than I ever was because you stayed and fought during the hardest times, and that strength that you have is going to continue to push you forward. But I'm still worried for you. I know you don't like it when I try to act like a mother to you, and I don't mean it to come off that way. But I am your older sister, and after everything, I wish I could see you happy."
"I am happy," I said. Even though it was the truth, my voice was a bit stiff. I tried again. "I'm the happiest I've been in years."
Sola smiled in a tired and knowing way, realizing that I was avoiding her point altogether.
"All right," she said. She hugged me, murmured, "Sleep well," and then went upstairs to her and Chris' bedroom.
I went to my own guest room and after washing up, I got into bed.
Perhaps it was because of my conversation with Sola right before I fell asleep, but I dreamed of Sirius again. Only the dream wasn't intermeshed with some terrifying nightmare. Instead, I dreamed of that night when I'd almost left on a train to Paris, but instead decided to come back and found his flat unguarded.
"Coming into your flat was way too easy tonight. None of the usual defenses were up, and since you're Lily and James' Secret-Keeper, the defenses should be even more heightened around your flat. But it wasn't. The only conclusion I can think of is that you're trying to draw someone in."
Sirius sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair as he replied, "Well, I guess I don't have any explaining to do, then."
"Yeah. Sirius, can I ask you one thing?"
"What is it?"
"Like I said, if you're the Potters' Secret-Keeper, your flat should be harder to get into. But instead, it's almost like you're-"
"Like I'm what?"
"Nothing."
And then, my dream morphed, and Sirius was holding me and saying, "Come live with me, Lynx. When all this is over, I mean…"
My eyes snapped open.
It was Christmas Eve, and technically, the Ministry of Magic was "closed, except for emergencies". Taking advantage of the lack of security, I posted my leaflets bearing the title "Sirius Black is Innocent" on every surface I could reach within the Ministry.
Since it was Christmas Eve, it took hours for security to arrive and drag me away. The guards alerted Umbridge, who ordered them to lock me into a cell.
The security officer who locked me in said, "Merlin, don't you have a better way to spend Christmas?" He shook his head and walked away.
Some time passed where I paced the cell, but at some point in the evening, Mad-Eye Moody happened to thump past my cell. I smiled to myself. Mad-Eye didn't get a rat's ass about Christmas. For him, it was always Dark-Wizard-hunting time.
At first his eyes swept right past my cell, but then he did a double-take and said sharply, "Raylynx Kingsley? That you?"
"It's been a while, hasn't it, Mad-Eye?" I said, smiling weakly.
"You got yourself locked up on Christmas Eve?"
"You haven't seen my handiwork, then? Damn, I didn't post enough," I muttered.
"Kingsley, you really are crazy," Mad-Eye said, "and they say I'm mad."
"You are, Mad-Eye," I reassured him. "There's plenty of room for both of us to live our own brands of madness."
"We could have used you," Mad-Eye grunted. "We had to send Aurors back into territory you would have been familiar with."
"Albania?" I said, standing up. "You had to go back into Albania?"
Mad-Eye nodded, but said shortly, "Don't ask me anymore, though. I won't tell you. Else I'd be breaking my own rule of CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"
"Merlin, Mad-Eye!" I said, startled. "Don't give me a heart attack just yet. It's not my plan to die in this cell."
"What is your plan, gal?" he asked me, eyeing me with his creepy eyeball. "Are you trying to get yourself locked up in Azkaban before the year is out?"
"I've thought about it," I said seriously. "But I can't bring myself to commit a lethal enough crime to get myself high enough to be near his cell."
"Who's cell? Sirius Black's?" He sighed and grumbled, "Dumbledore himself gave evidence. If you can't get it through your thick head that you ol' Hogwarts pal Sirius Black is a murderer, then I've got no hope for you."
I gripped the bars and put my face up against them.
"Mad-Eye," I said. "You've worked with me. Can't you believe me?"
"It doesn't matter whether I believe you or not- not that I do," Mad-Eye said, peeved. "You're fighting a lost cause, lassie. It's hard enough to get prisoners in jail on circumstantial evidence, but getting someone out when there was direct evidence? Bollocks. It'll never happen."
"Now leave me be," Mad-Eye said. "I've got to send off an owl." He traipsed away.
I wondered who he could possibly be sending an owl too, but my question was answered just a few hours later, when a very familiar voice said, "Raylynx."
I looked up to see Remus Lupin following Mad-Eye Moody to my cell.
"Remus!" I said, standing up again. "What on earth are you doing here?"
"Happy Christmas Eve," I tacked on. I meant to be polite, but in hindsight, it seemed to reflect madness rather than any politeness.
"Er- Happy Christmas Eve," Remus said, and sure enough, he was looking at me like I was a bit mad. Then, he explained, "Mad-Eye contacted Dumbledore, who contacted me to come and free you. We've paid your bail to get you out of here."
Suddenly, a loud voice could be heard in the hallway. "What do you mean, someone's posted bail for the Kingsley girl? I will have her take Veritaserum this time! Who knows how she got Sirius Black's wand? She works for Dumbledore-"
"Madam Umbridge!" the guard cried. "Please, contain yourself. Besides, someone's already come for her."
"Who? Who has? Not her sister, I'm sure," Umbridge sneered. "She ran out years ago and has never had the nerve to come back since."
"No, it's someone named Remus Lupin." In a hushed tone that nonetheless carried to us, the guard added, "He's a registered werewolf."
Umbridge's voice raised an octave as she said in disbelief, "He's a registered what?
"Werewolf, ma'am."
"Well, then, get them out of here at once!" Umbridge shrieked. "What were you thinking, allowing a werewolf into the premises? I shall speak to your superior about this!"
"There's the ticket," Mad-Eye said grimly, and then unlocked my cell.
"Happy Christmas Eve, Mad-Eye," I said, dully this time. "I hope Santa comes with another Dark Wizard for you."
"Yes, yes, now get out of here," Mad-Eye shooed me away. "I don't want to see your face in here again, Kingsley. I saw quite enough of it when you were doing your rounds as a disobedient Auror."
Remus didn't say anything, but he led the way to his flat.
I was a bit curious, because he normally avoided showing me his living space.
It turned out to be a Muggle flat fairly close to the Ministry.
We climbed three flights of creaky stairs. Then, Remus unlocked his door and stepped inside. I followed him in. The walls were so thin that I could hear the neighbors on either side. One seemed to be cooking as there were many banging sounds of pots and pans, and the other had put on Christmas carols. There was a leak in the corner. Remus had put a bucket underneath it to catch the drips. All of the furniture was mismatched. There was a small, low bed, and a single chair at a wooden desk. And there was a stove with a single grill and a rusty kettle on top of it.
"I thought we were finally past all of this," Remus said tiredly.
"Remus, there's nothing to get past. I've never truly believed that Sirius is guilty. This isn't some phase I'm going to get over. It's the truth. And if you would listen-"
"I don't want to hear it," Remus said flatly, sitting down on his bed.
"You can't avoid the subject forever," I pressed.
"I can't talk about it, Raylynx," Remus said.
"Well, when will you be able to? It's been ten years," I replied.
Remus sighed and put his head in his hands. "Not tonight," he said. "Please, it's… it's Christmas Eve."
I fell silent. The steady drip, drip, drip of the leak sounded.
"You could fix that leak," I said, clearly telling him what he already knew.
"Yes, but this is a Muggle flat," Remus said. He fell back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. "I came here after the last magical community I lived with kicked me out after they found out about what I am. They don't suspect here, but I have to be careful with my magic. If the landlord ever came in and realized he couldn't hear the next-door neighbors or that the leak was gone, he'd find it odd, and it's troublesome to have to put down the spells every time I leave the flat."
He closed his eyes and said, "It's easier just to live with the sounds and the leak."
I realized that the full moon had only been two days ago. He must be exhausted. He fell asleep right there, lying on his bed.
When Remus woke up the next morning, he woke up to the thumping of his neighbor's kids upstairs as they jumped on their parents' bed yelling, "It's Christmas! It's Christmas!"
But then the sounds faded away rather quickly.
Remus looked at his watch. It was ten thirty in the morning. Remus frowned. He usually woke up far earlier- around six or so, because his neighbor went off to woke at that hour. Remus sat up, and his jaw fell open.
His apartment had been sound-proofed- in the Muggle way. Foam panels had been put up on the walls and ceiling. That wasn't all. There was a thick, fluffy rug on the floor, and a small electric Christmas tree on his table that was lit up by gaudy-colored lights, along with a great stuffed turkey and all sorts of side dishes and desserts, including a big pile of chocolate coins in the middle.
A note lay in the middle of it.
Remus picked it up and folded it open with one finger.
It said:
Sometimes it helps to have grown up the Muggle way, don't you think?
P.S. If it bothers you at all, think of it as returning the bail. Though, I'd rather you just think of it and accept it as a gift.
P.P.S. I should have said it first, actually, but I forgot: Merry Christmas, Remus. Here's to another year of hoping that happiness lies in the (near) future.
