Later, after everyone had stuffed themselves silly and migrated to the comfier spots around the townhouse, a sense of precarious tranquility settled over the occupants; irritation satiated by the good food. All three generations of Evans women found themselves preoccupied with cleaning up after lunch; picking up wandering Christmas cracker streamers and rinsing off gravy soaked plates in preparation for dessert later. In turn, the three men of the family had returned to their chosen places on the living room couches and fallen under the spell of tryptophan quite easily. Currently, they were snoring in symphony like some strange sort of choir. Padfoot, the lucky dog, had somehow garnered himself a portion of the ham bone which he was happily gnawing on in the back garden.

Which left the kids, more or less, to their own devices; a dangerous notion in of itself. Not that they were doing anything that one might consider dangerous, per se, only that anyone with children will tell you that even an hour of quiet, uninterrupted childish interference was not typically a good sign. In this case, it was because the cousins had commandeered the fallen Christmas ornaments & any wayward Christmas cracker trinkets, and were currently decorating each of their individual sires under the watchful eye of Jean.

As for Jean, she had filched an old book of muggle fairytales off of the bookshelf and settled herself down in front of the fire to read, whilst both of the cousins somewhat amicably decorated James, Vernon and Grandpa Alfred in any of the various trinkets that they could get their grubby little hands on. Dudley had taken great glee in directing Harry about, to the point that Harry—who still wanted to do his own thing—had grown red in the face, and looked to be about two seconds away from erupting. Which was why Jean had quickly jumped between the two and suggested that they each decorate their own fathers, and then they could decorate their grandfather together.

Neither boy had really jumped at the idea, but at least they weren't at each other's throats anymore. In the end however, the choice was still a good one; Dudley got to decorate a snoring Vernon, whilst Harry redressed a drooling James as much as he pleased. Grandpa Alfred had been left for last however, as the pair had yet to agree to work on whatever they were going to do to him, together. Also, Jean had reasoned that because the elderly man was so old, he would sleep longer than their fathers. Jean was quite impressed with their efforts, if she were being honest.

Vernon, who lay snoring in Grandma Daisy's armchair with arms crossed over his rotund belly and feet propped up in front of him, wore the paper crown he had worn from his Christmas cracker. Although, it had slipped low over his head and Dudley and had taken great pleasure in swaddling him in boughs upon boughs of multicoloured tinsel. The muggleborn was amused to note that the rotund man had this kind of whistling snore that reminded her of an abused dog toy; but the best part about it was whenever he breathed out, the tinsel wrapped around his fat neck would crinkle & sing.

Then there was James who lay lengthways on the lumpy couch, with limbs all akimbo and his head propped up against one arm of the couch. He was situated in just the right spot for Harry to plant a pair of felt reindeer antlers on his crown. One leg had fallen from its perch on the couch, whilst the other leg remained drooped over the arm of the couch and his arms lay crossed over his chest & his mouth remained open in a snore.

That mouth hole lay tauntingly open, just daring someone to stuff something inside. So, Harry did. A strand of streamers (not collected by the elder Evans women) was draped across James' lower jaw and bunched up around his chin like a multicoloured makeshift beard. The final touch however, were the numerous Christmas baubles that the toddler had hung from his ears like a pair of oversized earrings and any other hook that he could reach.

Which just left Grandpa Alfred who had somehow adopted a Santa hat at some point during the afternoon which completed the whole ensemble. That ensemble being several festive bows gleefully woven into the white beard and the loose threads on the old man's sweater vest. Just like Vernon, Grandpa Alfred's feet were propped up on the footrest which jutted out from the bottom of the armchair, she was amused to note. Jean was also starting to suspect that the whole sleeping-with-their-arms-crossed-thing was something that all males did because even Grandpa Alfred had fallen asleep like that.

The absolute best part, Jean would argue, was that in a fit of frustration Harry had let out a slip of accidental magic. Unlike the last time, when Harry had gotten upset thanks to the tale of Santa coming down the chimney whilst it was still lit, this time the three snoring men found themselves completely doused in bucketfuls of shiny , there had been so much craft glitter dumped on them that she was surprised none of them had awoken; the closet any one of them had gotten was when Grandpa Alfred had almost farted himself awake. Something which had sent both of the boys into a fit of giggles.

Jean agreed, of course, but not for the reasons that they boys thought. Fart jokes were always funny sure, but this time Jean was more preoccupied with the irony behind the humour. To her, when she looked at the ridiculously dressed men and took into account that at least two of three of them had been soldiers once upon a time, it was like trying to match two disjointed puzzle pieces together. Mostly because they currently wore a look like a pair of children's imaginary friends or cartoonish creatures on a children's television show. But between them, they likely had a confirmed kill count closer to the triple digits. And she knew for a fact (having gone through a war, herself) that they could, without a doubt, repurpose those ornaments around someone's neck to the information that they sought, if they so desired.

"Hey, Sissy?" Harry hummed, as he ever-so-gently placed a bow around Grandpa Alfred's crooked fingers.

Jean hummed, barely sparing a glance up from the book in her lap. "Hmm?"

"What's the difference 'tween an old Daddy and a new Daddy?"

"Uh…" Jean blinked dumbly, not quite expecting that from the two. But from the expectant looks that both of the cousins wore, they had been arguing over the topic for some time now and they needed a tie breaker. "New Daddy…doesn't fall asleep in the middle of a party?"

"But Unca Jim's already sleeping!" Dudley replied, rudely pointing to the man in question.

"And Unca Vernon!" Harry responded in kind, not to be outdone.

"Um…" She stuck her tongue out in thought, "New Daddy's…still got hair?"

"Ha! Told ya so!" Harry preened, sticking out his tongue in triumph. "Your Daddy's old!"

"Wha—! No, he's not!" Dudley spluttered. He wasn't entirely wrong, considering that Vernon was balding, but not bald. It was a slight difference, but still a difference. "Your Daddy's just a baby!"

"Daddy is not a baby!"

"Yes, he is!"

"No, he's not! You're a liar!"

"I am not!"

"Liar, liar, pants on fire!"

SPLOSH!

Again, another spurt of accidental magic sprouted from Harry's hands. Only instead of the glitter of before, when he appeared to be trying to emphases his point, he doused Dudley in bucketful of cool water. So caught off guard, it was all Dudley could do but gasp like a dying fish as his clothes clung to him like a second skin. Jean, who would argue 'til the cows came home, that she wasn't great with kids in general (Harry was different; she'd always considered him to be her brother, even in her previous life. So, she often saw him as she remembered him, not as the little boy he currently was; which occasionally got her in to trouble).

But sensing a tantrum of a lifetime on the horizon, she quickly interjected herself into the conversation before it could kick off. When Dudley's face screwed up into a frightfully sour expression (almost mimicking that of his father's expression as he was wont to do, in the last timeline), the young witch muttered a quiet "Sicco" and wriggled her fingers just so. The gust of wind that blew was soft & warm and dried the boy off in an instant, as it transformed wet clothes back to their previous dry state.

Dudley immediately turned on the witch, looking windswept and gleeful. He had clearly enjoyed the feeling of the warm air as it blew about him, and even lifted him off the ground an inch or two. "Do it again!"

"Ooh! Me too! Me too!" Harry bounced up & down in his spot; practically vibrating in place as he waved his arms about, not wanting to be left out of the fun.

Uh…Again, Jean blinked dumbly at the two boys, not quite sure how the two toddlers could get so much fun out of a simple drying charm. Okay…?

Sometime later, after the boys had exhausted their fun with the drying charm, Harry bumbled his way over to where the witch sat in front of the fireplace. Jean barely glanced up as she sat in front of the hearth and tried to coax some of the flames back to life. "Hey, Sissy!"

"Yeah?" Jean hummed, sparing a quick glance towards the borrowed book in her lap to make sure that it hadn't been kicked closer to the fire by eager feet.

"Whatcha reading?"

"A story"

"Bout what?" Dudley added as he toddled over, one of his newly-gifted toys in hand.

"Magic and kings, and monsters"

"Oooh! I wanna hear!" Harry hugged her arm, giving her his best puppy dog eyes; eyes that were magnified by the huge spectacles on his face. "Pleeeeeeeease?"

"I dunno…" Jean hummed as she rested back on her laurels, content with how the fire had returned to life. "It might be too scary for you"

"I can do it! I'm brave 'nough!" Harry refuted, puffing up his tiny little chest with pride.

"Oh, I dunno~" Jean sang as she smiled at the cute display before turning to Dudley who stood nearby. "What about you? Are you brave enough?"

"Da bravest!" Dudley replied, mimicking Harry's pose on her other side.

"Okay"Jean chuckled as she cracked open the book to the story she had spoken of: King Arthur the Monster Slayer much to the glee of both Harry & Dudley.

"Fee, fi, fo, fum
Ask no whence the thunder comes
Ask not where the stars have gone
Nor why the birds have ceased their song
When going home, don't take too long
For monsters roam above Albion"

Lily watched from the doorway as Jean read aloud to the two cousins, particularly as they settled in for storytime. Harry had been learning about storytime at John O'Groats Preschool which was why he'd so easily fallen onto his little bum and scooted in close to listen to the child's lilting voice. Dudley, on the other hand, was a little slower to react. Petunia had bragged that the rotund boy had gotten into the esteemed St John's Nursery all of his own merits. Although the redhead suspected that those merits had more to do with the monetary bribery than Dudley's own merits. Still, the chubby boy was able to mimic her son's actions, so he must've had some sense.

"The seeds they pulled from a magical pod
The druids grew a pathway to seek out their God
But when they came to what they thought was Veil's Gate
They were met with a terrible & grisly fate!
For between Heaven & Earth was a perilous place,
Cathbhadh; home to a fierce monstrous race!"

Lily was pretty sure that neither of the boys new what most of the words meant but they were being read to them in rhyming couplets & limericks. Apparently that made everything better when it sounded nice. She couldn't believe that her parents had still kept ahold of that book of fairytales; the one with "Property of Daisy Hughes" written in the front cover from when it had been her mother's book, as a little girl. Mum had often read to them from that book—just like Jean was doing now—and to this day, Lily could remember each of their favourites; Petunia's had been Goldilocks and the Three Bears, whereas Lily's had been Little Red Riding Hood.

"With a bridge now before them to the world of men,
A horrible plague of monsters descend
Taking a cue from the richest of the kings,
They acquired a taste for acquiring things
But the one taste that caused them to lose all control
Was the taste for mankind: blood, bones and soul!"

Green eyes turned to look over the triad of snoring men, a sight which elicited low chuckles from the witch when she saw what the children had done. Tryptophan had knocked all three men for a one-two and they laid about the living room of her childhood home in various stages of sleep, with a generous dusting of shiny glitter upon each of them. Lily suspected that that blip of magic she had felt earlier was another bout of her son's accidental magic. At least this time, it wasn't anything particularly explosive.

"Cross the land, all souls heard
The songs of the monstrous King's bard:
Fee, fi, fo, fum
I smell the blood of an Englishman!
Be he 'live or be he dead
I'll grind his bones to make my bread!"

Her father was slumped over in his chair, whilst he was adorned in a Santa hat and various festive bows. Her brother-in-law was likewise sprawled across her mother's chair, where he had been dressed in a paper crown and crackling boughs of tinsel—he looked like that alien from that new ET movie. And then there was James, appropriately dressed in a pair of reindeer antlers and drooling around, what she thought was supposed to be, a beard made of streamers.

"So King Arthur bade the Wizard Merlin
To return to Dark Arts
And find some way to rule monstrous hearts.
So he melted one down
Mixed in magic and more
And crafted a crown, unlike any before!"

A bittersweet feeling settled in her stomach and a pleasant smile painted her lips as she watched the children from afar. She was happy that they were getting along, but inwardly, she was upset that she & Petunia had lost that kind of connection. Petunia & Lily had been rather close as kids, running around together to the point that they were almost joined at the hip. But that was before Lily had gotten her Hogwarts letter, before she was sucked into the world of magic; a world that had no place for her elder sister. Petunia must've felt the same way (at first) because she had written to Headmaster Dumbledore in the hopes that she too could attend as well; but alas. Actually, if Lily thought about it, their problems really only started from there.

"As soon as the King took the crown in hand,
The monsters were slaves to his every command
Arthur sent them back, to the place of their birth.
Their home, now a prison between Heaven & Earth
He then severed the link between monsters & men
And peace returned to Albion again"

It seemed the patience of toddlers could only last for so long however, because soon enough both boys were up on their feet. Although, it appeared that they were still half-pie listening to the tale because Harry had gone to scrounge through the Christmas cracker leftovers that still lingered around the dining table whilst Dudley had jumped to his feet and begun strutting around the living room as he acted out the story.

"The mystical relics were all that remained
Safe with Arthur through the years that he reigned
And when it came for King Arthur to sleep
He took both crown & seed with him for permanent keep
And as the King's bones slowly crumbled away
Truth became legend, or so people say"

"…No, no, no! I'll be Merlin and you be Arthur!" Harry huffily crowned his cousin with a slightly crumpled paper crown that he'd managed to find lying abandoned beneath the table. He then brandished a candy cane sword, which had been sucked to the point that it was sharpened beyond belief. If he felt so inclined, the toddler could've poked someone's eye out with it; instead he simply waved it about like a lolly wand.

Dudley stomped his feet in protest. "But I wanna be Merlin!" Unfortunately, the effect was ruined by the paper crown sliding even further down his head.

"We can't both be Merlin!"

"Jeanie! Help! Tell him that I'm Merlin!"

"No, Sissy! You gotta tell 'im that I'm Merlin!"

"Um, uh, er…I—I mean…" Jean floundered as she suddenly found herself accosted by two fiercely frustrated toddlers. "Can't—can't you…take turns being Merlin? Why don't you wanna be Arthur?"

"Coz—coz Merlin's magic!" Harry exclaimed as if it were obvious.

"And—and—and ev-everyone knows he's a got a dragon!" Dudley added, "That's why I gotta be Merlin!"

Harry immediately rounded on his cousin. "You're not even magic!"

"I could be!"

"Nuh uh!"

"Uh huh!"

"But jealous eyes still look down
Upon the peaceful fields of Albion
And enemies vow, that there will come a day
When monsters return & monsters stay
To wage a war, and this time, win
And devour the last of Arthur's kin"

Lily had to chuckle at the absolutely lost expression painted across Jean's face; particularly as she watched the pair bicker back and forth like she was watching a rather riveting tennis match. Originally, the redhead had been a little worried about how the cousins would interact with each other, especially considering the last family get-together where the two toddlers had ended rolling about the floor as they wrestled over some toy. But today? Today they seemed to be doing okay, that is if you don't count the Padfoot incident earlier in the day and this whole Arthur-versus-Merlin thing.

It was good to see that Jean was doing well too. They still knew very little about the teenage witch who had appeared upon their doorstep, all those months ago. And after searching through her bag (the same one which Lily still had tucked away in her boudoir), there were still so many more questions added to the already big pile. Lily would admit that she felt some sort of solidarity between the girl and herself; mostly because they were both muggleborns, which was why she had insisted so thoroughly on keeping her close.

Lily couldn't, in clear conscious, give the girl over to a third party despite James' concerns. It had also helped to prove her point that that memoir had painted Dumbledore in such a bad light. For surely, a book from the future would know what it was talking about, right? How could he hide SO much from us? How could he DO this to us? What, in the seven rings of hell, made him think sacrificing MY SON was a GOOD idea? She silently fumed, thinking over what she had read between those yellow pages. What part of the GREATER FUCKING GOOD included CHILD SACRIFICES?! As in PLURAL!

Just as the headmaster had been so persistently interested in the muggleborn, he too, had keenly interested in her own son (if those pages were to be believed). And after learning what she had, the old wizard no longer rubbed her the right way. On the plus side, at least she wasn't alone in her attachment to Jean. Harry and Crookshanks had also quickly attached themselves to the girl. Harry had even gone so far as to proclaim Jean as his big sister. Still, they would have to dig deeper eventually, but Lily hoped that they could at least push that off until she had fully recovered; whenever that might be.

"Fee, fi, fo, fum
Ask not when the lightning comes
Ask not where the people have gone
Nor why the Druids have ceased their song
When coming home, don't take too long
For monsters rage against Albion"