Chapter 7 – White Christmas
I'm dreaming of a white Christmas
Just like the ones I used to know
Where the treetops glisten
And children listen
To hear sleigh bells in the snow
As Bobbin sat at the high table for dinner that evening, she was in low spirits. The days were creeping ever closer to Christmas, and she had made little progress with Ebony—both with regards to their relationship and with what she might possibly get her as a gift for Christmas. Bobbin was reluctant to seek her daughter out and ask her directly, knowing it wouldn't go down well at all, but she was starting to feel desperate.
Cepheus Roberts was the only thing keeping her grounded, and she was immensely grateful for him. He was by her side right then, as he always was, trying all he could to distract his wife from staring at the girl with deep sadness.
Melinda couldn't help it. She knew Ebony viewed her with pity, maybe even disgust, and was purposefully and stubbornly refusing to even visually acknowledge her. And maybe it was pathetic for Bobbin to so longingly stare at her daughter every opportunity she could, but she also wanted to cherish every possible moment she had the privilege of doing so. Who was to say how much Ebony would involve Bobbin in her life when she left Hogwarts—if at all. She had already sacrificed seventeen years. She wanted to watch her beautiful daughter as she matured into a woman—even if from afar.
"You should eat," Roberts told her, disapproving but ever kind.
"I am," Bobbin said in a daze, though she knew she had barely touched her plate since the feast had begun.
Ebony looked so sad all the time, and it broke Bobbin's heart. She knew what her daughter wanted—what she thought would make her happy—but she was so naively young. And even if it were a possibility, Bobbin genuinely did not think it would be a good idea to have James anywhere near the castle.
Once upon a time, not much older than Ebony herself, Melinda had been as naively independent on a man, and it had nearly ruined her. Bobbin would never truly resent the years with her first husband because they had brought her Ebony, and that mattered to her more than anything else in the world. And she knew it was ridiculous to compare James to John, because she knew that, despite his flaws (and there were many), James Potter was truly good at his core. He was irritating beyond belief, and way too arrogant for his own good, but his heart was incredibly pure. And what's more, is that he was good for Ebony too.
But they were so young. Ebony needed to be her own person—to carve her own path in life. James could accompany her on it, sure, but Bobbin wanted Ebony to be as independent and strong as she knew she could be on her own. She had thought giving her the role of Head Girl would help her form more of her own identity away from James, but instead, the girl just seemed so desperately lost all the time. It broke Bobbin's heart every time she saw that hollow, desolate look in her otherwise beautiful eyes—the eyes she'd gotten from her mother.
"I think we should get a divorce."
"What?" Bobbin asked sharply, turning her head towards her husband in absolute disbelief.
Roberts was casually sipping from his goblet and looked thoroughly amused. "I was just checking if you were listening," he apologised, grinning.
Bobbin rolled her eyes. Her heart had unintentionally accelerated at his declaration, and she was struggling to steady it to its usual pace again. "That's not even remotely funny," she said with an edge of bitterness, but it did nothing to dissuade the entertained look on his face.
"I'm sorry," Roberts said. "I just don't want you to obsess over Ebony's every move all the time. It's not good for her—and it's not good for you."
"I can't help it," Bobbin said, somewhat dazed.
"I know," Roberts said kindly. "And I know I don't get it—not being a parent—but it's going to be okay, Melinda. She loves you. She just needs time."
That was easy for him to say, Bobbin thought, but, as he'd pointed out himself, he wasn't a parent. He couldn't possibly know how it ate away at her during her every waking moment—even sometimes in her sleep. Bobbin felt like she had already so drastically failed Ebony as a mother, and she was desperate to make up for it with everything that she could. But Ebony simply wasn't interested.
"And I love you too," Roberts said warmly, placing his goblet back down on the table so he could reach his hand out to place atop Bobbin's.
For the slightest moment, Bobbin felt content. His beautiful eyes, shining with adoration, were enough to temporarily distract her from the swirling emotional torment which so often consumed her mind.
A sharp cough directly in front of her drew Bobbin's attention away from her husband. She hadn't even been aware of anybody approaching the high table and was startled to find a student there. And not just any student. It was the pale-skinned, dark-haired, beautiful face of the seventh-year Slytherin Prefect. It was the Head Girl.
It was Ebony.
"Ebony," Bobbin said in awe, completely astounded by the girl who stood before her. Not only was she openly acknowledging her—she had actually approached her. "Is everything okay?"
Bobbin was immediately worried. Why else would Ebony seek her out at dinner time in the Great Hall if it weren't something beyond important?
Her daughter looked hesitant and awkward, but she often did when speaking to Bobbin since she'd revealed their true relationship. She spoke with a childlike bashfulness.
"Can I speak to you?" Ebony asked—the first words she'd spoken to Bobbin in days, despite the Headmistress' best efforts.
"Yes, of course," Bobbin breathed, trying not to sound too eager.
Ebony's eyes flickered awkwardly to the side. "In your office?"
Bobbin realised why Ebony was so uncomfortable—the entire hall full of students was watching, stealing intrigued glances at the rare interaction between Head and Head Girl, mother and daughter.
"Now?" Bobbin asked, still not daring to believe it. Even if all Ebony wanted to say was that she hated the woman and intended to run away from the school, at least she was talking to her.
"I—whenever," Ebony mumbled, like she couldn't care less. She was avoiding looking Bobbin directly in the eye.
It was just as well Bobbin's heart hadn't calmed since Roberts had jokingly suggested divorce, because it had rapidly picked up pace once more. "Okay," she said, hoping she wasn't seeming too keen. "We can go now—I, err, I was just finished," she lied.
Bobbin ignored Roberts' disapproving look.
Ebony didn't say anything, but she didn't contradict her, so Bobbin took it as an assumption that she agreed.
"Do you want me to come too?" Roberts asked, addressing his question to both his wife and his stepdaughter, unsure which might benefit more from his calming presence and his ability to impartially mediate should he need to.
Bobbin looked to Ebony.
"No, that's okay," the teenager said.
Bobbin rose to her feet, wondering what Ebony could possibly wish to discuss with her—especially so privately. Maybe, Bobbin thought with hopeful optimism, she was about to open up to her. Maybe she was going to say that she'd changed her mind—that she actually did want to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas with her. Maybe, and Bobbin could hardly dare to entertain the thought, she might even apologise to her. For shutting her out so quickly. For being so cruelly dismissive of her attempts to mend their fractured relationship.
"I'll see you later," Bobbin said, planting a quick kiss on Roberts' cheek.
Ebony led the way, strolling down the centre of the hall like she couldn't feel the hundreds of eyes watching her, the Headmistress timidly following behind her. Ebony held herself with such enviable grace. She was so incredibly strong, never letting an ounce of emotion show on the outside, no matter what storm she was battling on the inside. Even if she had not been the Head's daughter, she would have been a natural candidate for Head Girl.
Bobbin could not help but feel responsible for the emotional burden Ebony had been forced to bear so young, and she was not proud of it. She only wished she could tell her how much she admired her. How beautiful she was, how strong, and how truly proud Bobbin felt to be able to say she was her daughter.
As they passed the Slytherin table, Bobbin noticed the reassuring smile Scorpius Malfoy offered Ebony. Bobbin had always been immensely grateful for the friendship Ebony had found with Scorpius over the years, and wondered if he had anything to do with what this was all about.
They departed the Great Hall and began making their way through the empty corridors.
"It snowed," Bobbin announced, feeling stupid. She didn't want to spend the entire walk to her office in silence, but she had no idea how to engage in small talk with her estranged child.
Bobbin was now walking alongside the girl rather than behind her. Ebony frowned. Bobbin had no idea that Ebony had made the same, simple observation to her own friends earlier in the week.
"Yeah," Ebony agreed.
Bobbin felt hopeful. At least she wasn't completely ignoring her.
"It, ah, it snowed the day you were born," Bobbin dared to say. "The first of the year. Every first snowfall—it reminds me of that day."
Whatever Ebony was feeling, she didn't show it externally. "It snowed in October?" she asked, further frowning.
Ebony's birthday was the thirty-first of October—Halloween.
"Yes," Bobbin said, smiling at the memory. "It was so bizarre—a freak blizzard. But it seemed fitting."
"Why?" Ebony asked sharply. "Because I was an unexpected freak daughter?"
Bobbin was alarmed, but she noticed the ever-so-slight smile playing at the edges of Ebony's mouth. Was she… joking with her? The teenager still refused to look at her directly.
"No," Bobbin replied, still a little startled. "Because of your name. We had already decided to call you Snow. I was a little reluctant, but it felt like a sign that I was doing the right thing."
Bobbin knew it was foolish, to dare mention such a sensitive topic with Ebony—her birth, her upbringing.
"Why did you call me Ebony?" She still wasn't looking at her mother, but Bobbin felt just a slight sense of warmth emanating from the girl. Curiosity, at least. The lack of complete and total hostility. Progress.
"Because of your hair," Bobbin said fondly. "You were born with already beautiful, thick, black hair. And"—she hesitated, wondering whether she dared—"I was selfish, I suppose. Giving you John's surname felt like a necessary sacrifice, but naming you for your hair, it felt like… Almost like I was giving you a part of me too."
Ebony didn't say anything, and Bobbin hadn't really expected her to. Whether she liked it or not, they did look remarkably similar. Melinda would never dare assume she shared the same beauty her daughter did, but their hair, their eyes—it was clear where the influence had come from in Ebony's genes.
"How come I don't have a middle name?" Ebony asked after a while of the two of them walking in silence.
"You do," Bobbin said, surprised. She then blushed quickly. "It's Melinda," she confessed. "We just, ah, we never told you—for obvious reasons."
Ebony looked thoughtful, her deep, green eyes wide and unblinking. "I suppose that would have been a pretty big tip-off," she said, and there was no denying it that time—the teasing humour in her tone.
Bobbin felt herself smile.
"So my name," Ebony said carefully, "was always Ebony Melinda Snow."
"Yes," Bobbin confirmed. "That's what was on your birth certificate." She wanted to make comment about her new name—Ebony Melinda Bobbin—but was worried the girl might retract the adoption of her new name. She might only have said it in a rare moment of sentimentality and then immediately regretted it. She might start going by Ebony Potter just to spite her.
"Where was I born?" Ebony asked.
"Here—in Scotland."
Ebony's eyebrows raised ever so slightly. Clearly she had not expected that. "So I'm Scottish?"
Bobbin smiled. "I suppose so, yes—technically. I, ah, I needed to stay close by to the castle," she confessed. "For obvious reasons. Few people knew I was pregnant—we used enchantments to hide it, and Professor Longbottom took a much more central role in the school during that time. People assumed I was ill."
"That's fitting—I was an unwanted virus. A disease. A parasite you couldn't get rid of."
"Ebony," Bobbin said sharply, all the humour now instantly gone from the corridor. They were now nearing the foot of the staircase which led to her office.
"I wanted you," she said fiercely. "I loved you too much already—the only thing in my life I had ever been so certain of. I knew I couldn't raise you, but there was never even a consideration that I wouldn't bring you into this world."
Ebony looked almost embarrassed by having even fallen back into that old argument, but Bobbin supposed she could not blame her. Since as long as she could remember, Ebony had felt like nobody had ever wanted her—had ever truly loved her. It was hard to rewire that way of thinking, to truly believe that her mother loved her wholeheartedly.
As they reached the bottom of the spiral stone staircase, Bobbin and Ebony both stopped. Mother looked at daughter with fierce determination. Tentatively, Ebony finally met her gaze, two sets of piercing green eyes staring intently at each other.
"You are the best thing that ever happened to me," Bobbin told her almost angrily.
Ebony had the decency to look apologetic. Then, bashfully, she said, "Well, don't tell Cepheus that."
Bobbin broke into a small smile and was relieved to see that Ebony's own mouth reflected this.
"Oh, he already knows," Bobbin said brightly.
A few minutes later and the two were inside the Head's office. It was in that very room where Bobbin had revealed the truth to Ebony just seven months prior. She still couldn't look at the Pensieve without a guilty knot tightening in the pit of her stomach. Had Rose Weasley never delved into it, seeking answers on Ebony's behalf, then maybe it would still have been a secret which ate away at her.
"Do you want to sit?" Bobbin asked uncertainly. She still had no indication as to what Ebony wanted to speak to her about.
"No," Ebony said awkwardly, wrapping her long arms around herself like she was trying to protect herself from something. Maybe she was. Maybe she was about to break Bobbin's heart even further.
"Okay," Bobbin said. And so the two of them stood uncomfortably in the centre of the room. Ebony was tall—not quite as tall as Bobbin was, but she wasn't far off. James Potter had already been taller than the Headmistress for the better part of the last year.
Ebony took a deep breath and seemed to steady herself for whatever it was she was about to say.
Bobbin hadn't even realised she was holding her own breath.
"I've decided to stay in the castle over Christmas."
Bobbin hardly dared to believe it. "You have?" she asked breathlessly.
Ebony looked greatly embarrassed, some needed pink colouring her pale face. "Scorpius asked me to," she explained quickly.
Bobbin tried not to let the disappointment show on her face. Of course Ebony hadn't changed her mind for Bobbin's benefit.
"They're all staying," Ebony further explained. "Scorpius, Jinx, Rose—all the Gryffindors." She waved a dismissive hand. "It's our last Christmas all together so…" She trailed off, unable to look her mother in the eye anymore.
Well, Bobbin thought, it had been nice whilst it lasted. And even though she should have felt relieved and ecstatic at Ebony's decision—even if she had come to it motivated by her friends rather than her mother—she knew there was more. Ebony wouldn't have wanted to speak to Bobbin so privately just to tell her that.
Ebony took another breath and looked Bobbin dead in the eye. "I want James to come to the castle."
Bobbin's heart sank. "Ebony—"
"Don't just say no," the teenager pleaded, already working herself up with frightening efficiency.
"James is not a student," Bobbin said calmly. They had made so much progress in just that short walk to her office—she didn't want to compromise it all with another hurried shouting match.
"It's Christmas!" Ebony protested.
"And Hogwarts is not a hotel," Bobbin reminded her, hating that her voice was already subconsciously increasing in volume.
"Just one day," Ebony begged. "Please—it's all I'm asking for. It's the only thing I want for Christmas—the only thing that matters to me."
"Ebony," Bobbin sighed. "Whether or not you stay in Hogwarts for Christmas is entirely your choice—but James will certainly not be. I absolutely cannot make exceptions. He is no longer a student—it wouldn't be appropriate."
"He is my husband!" Ebony yelled.
"And you are still a student," Bobbin reminded her bitterly. "You knew this would be the outcome when you made the choice to"—she hesitated—"get married. You are a student—a child—and you're under my protection."
Ebony looked like she'd been slapped. "James is not a threat," she said, appalled. "And we are not children. We're both of age in the wizarding community!"
Bobbin resisted rolling her eyes. "Even still," she said, forcing herself to keep her tone reserved, "you are still a student here at Hogwarts—and James is not."
"You've let his parents stay in the castle before," Ebony pointed out furiously. "And Rose's parents, and Scorpius', and—"
"That was a… difficult situation," Bobbin said awkwardly. Ebony had made a shockingly good point, and Bobbin wasn't sure how to counter it. She had allowed the Potters to stay in Hogwarts several times—of course she had. Harry Potter was an Auror, a wizarding legend. Hogwarts wouldn't still be standing if it weren't for him. Most recently she had, as Ebony had pointed out, allowed them all to stay in the castle after they had fought alongside the students at Rosewood Manor. It wasn't that Bobbin didn't have the authority to house guests at Hogwarts, it was just that she absolutely did not think it would be healthy for Ebony to be indulged.
"What about your wedding?" Ebony ploughed on, and the tears were threatening in her eyes.
Bobbin froze.
"That wasn't a difficult situation, was it? That was a self-indulgent celebration, and you let James stay in the castle then!"
The Headmistress was stunned into silence. Ebony was absolutely right. They had housed all the guests she and Cepheus had invited to their wedding inside the castle, the entire Potter family included. Bobbin had not allowed James and Ebony to share a room—that would have been going too far—but she knew they had spent the night together anyway. Nothing inappropriate—they had whiled away the hours of the night under the stars out in the grounds. Their last night at Hogwarts together. It would have been rather romantic if it were not now being used against her right then, Bobbin thought bitterly.
"The wedding was a unique event," Bobbin said, trying not to let her confidence falter.
The tears which had almost threatened in Ebony's eyes were gone. She was now staring at her mother with steely, unrelenting ferocity. How had they gotten back there so quickly?
"Because it benefitted you." Ebony glared at her. "How would you feel?" she suddenly demanded. "If you and Cepheus weren't allowed to ever be together? If you were forced to be apart so soon after you were married."
"Cepheus and I are adults," Bobbin replied, tight-lipped. "And we carefully considered our life together—our future—before we got married."
Ebony looked, once more, like she'd been struck. Bobbin had not meant for it to be a dig at Ebony and James' 'marriage' but she realised that's exactly what it had been.
"Ebony," Bobbin tried again, opting for her most kind voice, full of warmth and support. "You and James will be together once you've graduated Hogwarts—six months time. And when you've left the castle, you will be free to do what you want. But"—she took a shaky breath—"whilst you remain here, in the castle, you have to follow my rules. You all do," she emphasised, wanting to make sure she meant it as her headmistress and not her mother.
"Even if I'm miserable?" Ebony asked sulkily.
"What about your friends?" Bobbin asked weakly. "I think it's a great idea that you all spend your last Christmas together."
"It won't be the same without James," Ebony said in a very small voice. "It's never the same without James."
Ebony looked close to tears again, and Bobbin wanted nothing more than to take her into her arms, but she knew she absolutely couldn't. Instead, she smiled. "I know," she said kindly. "We all miss him."
Ebony just shook her head, like her mother possibly couldn't understand it in the way that she did. Bobbin knew it was true, but she didn't know what else she could do. If she bent the rules this one time for Ebony then she would only get more attached. It wouldn't be enough for Ebony—she would want James in the castle at more opportunities, and Bobbin would have less of a defence for why she couldn't allow it. Ebony lived at Hogwarts, and James lived with the Potters, and that was the way it was going to be for the rest of the school year.
"You'll see him at the next Hogsmeade weekend," Bobbin assured her. "It's not too long. February—near Valentine's Day."
Something lit up in Ebony's eyes. Bobbin felt like maybe, just maybe, the girl had been placated.
"I want another Hogsmead weekend," Ebony said breathlessly, eyes brimming with sudden thoughtfulness.
Bobbin frowned in confusion. "All the Hogsmeade weekends have been pre-arranged for the year—you've already seen the schedule."
But Ebony looked fiercely determined. "I want another one," she declared. "Soon—before Christmas."
Bobbin was startled. "Ebony," she began with a gentle laugh.
"No—please," the girl said desperately. "I swear, if you let us have one more Hogsmeade weekend before Christmas—if I can see James just one more time—then I'll be okay. I'll be able to get through Christmas. I'll be able to get through the year—I'll never ask for anything ever again."
She looked frantic, her eyes fulls of pleading, and Bobbin felt uncomfortable. She hated saying no to Ebony, but the girl kept demanding impossible things of her. Bobbin was starting to tire of always having to be the villain.
"Ebony, the Hogsmeade weekends are all planned and pre-arranged a year in advance. It is two weeks to Christmas—it's just not possible."
"Then just let me go," Ebony pleaded. "To see James."
"I can't," Bobbin forced herself to say, knowing exactly what it would incite.
"You can't?" Ebony demanded, eyes narrowing. "Or you won't?"
"Both," Bobbin replied, still calm. "I can't grant you special privileges just because you're—"
Ebony cut her off with a scoff, and Bobbin felt herself blush. Who was she kidding—Ebony could see right through her.
Bobbin took a steadying breath. "Even if I wanted to, there's just not enough time to arrange it all."
Ebony's beautiful face was struck with so much pain and sorrow that it broke Bobbin's heart. "And you don't want to," she said bitterly.
"You know I would do anything for you, Ebony," Bobbin insisted.
"What have you ever done for me?" Ebony snarled.
Her words stung, but Bobbin tried not to let it show. She had given Ebony life—brought her into the very world. She had loved her from afar, protected her as best she could, been a guide, a confidant, a mentor. More recently, she had given her a home, a chance to be a proper family. But, of course, Ebony didn't care for any of that. She wanted only James. She only understood love if it came from him.
Bobbin chose not to take the bait. She knew she was hardly mother of the year, and defending herself against Ebony was pointless. She could be vicious when she wanted to be.
"I am sorry," Bobbin said instead, her voice small.
"You won't even consider it?" Ebony asked, instantly dropping the hostility when she realised Bobbin wasn't rising to meet her. "A compromise?" she asked weakly.
Bobbin felt like she was being blackmailed—do things for Ebony, against her wishes as both a mother and a headmistress, and she would earn her love. And part of her desperately wanted to cave.
But Melinda was forced to stop and truly assess the situation. It would be incredibly difficult to arrange a last-minute Hogsmeade trip, but it wouldn't be outside the realms of possibility, and, really, there wasn't any strict reason why she couldn't. And if it would make Ebony happy…
"I've not said no," Bobbin eventually said. "I've just said it will be difficult."
A look of unadulterated hope now shone in Ebony's eyes, her entire demeanour perking up. "Really?" she dared to ask.
"But I really don't approve of all this bargaining," Bobbin said critically.
"I'll never ask for anything ever again," Ebony promised.
Bobbin had no doubt that her declaration wasn't true, but she said nothing.
"Everyone would really appreciate it," Ebony went on, as though this might further appeal to her mother's decision. "Not just me. No one's done any Christmas shopping yet."
Bobbin smiled. She did like the idea of granting the kids something fun and unexpected. And also, if the students were going to Hogsmeade, Bobbin would need to accompany them to oversee the operation. She, too, liked the idea of visiting the village for some last-minute Christmas shopping. She was still completely clueless as to what to gift Ebony, but maybe she could subtly observe the girl as she browsed, or ask one of her friends—Scorpius, or maybe Rose. She would also need to mentally prepare to face James again, Bobbin thought with amusement. That boy wore her out.
"If I could get it approved—and I'm not saying I definitely can—I could maybe arrange something for the final weekend before the holidays begin," Bobbin announced.
Ebony looked thrilled beyond belief, and Bobbin was selfish enough to admit that it was the only motivation she needed. She would give the world to Ebony if she could.
But Ebony's beautiful face suddenly dropped. Bobbin felt immediately uneasy.
"I just remembered," Ebony said, eyes wide. "That weekend—that's when we were going to have our Quidditch friendly."
Bobbin had no idea what she was talking about.
"The Slytherins and the Gryffindors," Ebony explained, sensing this. "We arranged a friendly match for the last week of term. But we can move it," she said quickly.
Bobbin couldn't help but smile. She'd had no idea the kids had been arranging Quidditch matches, and the thought made her feel warm. She, herself, had never cared for Quidditch, but she liked that Ebony was part of the team. It was good for her. Even if it had, and Bobbin strongly suspected this was the case, been motivated by James' own interest in the sport.
"Okay, well," Bobbin reminded her. "Nothing is set in stone yet."
But Ebony was barely listening. "We could move it to the Wednesday maybe," she thought out loud. "We have a double-free in the afternoon."
"Wednesday the thirteenth?" Bobbin asked in surprise.
"Yeah—why?" Ebony had noticed Bobbin's unease.
Bobbin blushed. "Oh, nothing," she said quickly. "It's just"—she offered a weak smile—"that's my birthday."
Ebony just blinked at her, like she had never even considered the Headmistress might have a birthday. "You're a Saggitarius," she said, more of a statement than a question.
Bobbin wasn't sure how to respond—it wasn't how she'd expected Ebony to react at all. But they were both astronomers, she thought with pride. "Yes," she confirmed, amused.
Ebony blinked again, her face entirely passive. "How old will you be?"
Bobbin almost snorted. "Forty-three," she eventually said, wondering why Ebony had asked. Perhaps just curiosity—she barely knew her mother, after all.
Ebony looked seemingly thoughtful, and then, confusingly, a little angry. "You're twelve years older than Cepheus?"
Bobbin frowned, unsure where Ebony was going with it—she had already known this, of course.
"And he's only thirteen years older than me—there's practically the same age gap between all three of us."
Although it was true, Bobbin felt a little distressed that Ebony was pointing it out, and confused as to why she was. "Why are you trying to hurt me?" she couldn't help but ask, noticing the glimmer of malice in Ebony's otherwise beautiful face.
But she thought she knew why. Ebony was always looking for reasons to criticise Bobbin's marriage, no matter how much she liked her stepfather. Bobbin assumed it was because if Ebony felt like she could discredit her mother's marriage, it would somehow make her own more credible.
The teenager actually looked apologetic, like she had made the biting remark without really thinking about it. Her heart had not been in it—it had just been an impulse. It was very Slytherin of her, Bobbin mused.
"Sorry," Ebony mumbled, perhaps worried she would unintentionally influence her mother's decision about the impromptu Hogsmeade visit.
Bobbin immediately softened. "It's okay."
The two women stood awkwardly, still facing each other in the centre of the office, neither really knowing what to say next. Bobbin didn't want Ebony to leave—she cherished any time she got to spend with her outside of their academic roles—but she knew the girl would want to return to her friends. Or to her common room—to no doubt write to James.
"Thank you," Ebony suddenly gushed, and, to Bobbin's complete surprise, she rushed forward and threw her arms around her unsuspecting mother.
Ebony had hugged Bobbin so rarely that she almost didn't react straight away, unsure about what, exactly, was happening. But Bobbin felt her arms automatically go to cradle her daughter's back, her body feeling small and slight within her embrace. The top of Ebony's hair smelt like apples and was soft against the skin on her face.
"Thank you," Ebony repeated. And then, almost hesitantly, she added, "Mum."
Oh, she was pushing it now.
Bobbin smirked as Ebony released her. Even if the girl was only pulling out all the stops to ensure she had her wrapped around her little finger, Bobbin could not deny the increased thumping of her heart at the acknowledgement that Ebony had, for the first time, called her Mum. Whether she meant it or not—whether she was just being manipulative—Bobbin would take it.
Ebony did not immediately retreat, but looked up at Bobbin through her curtain of hair rather shyly. Her cheeks were pink once more.
Bobbin brushed a strand of long, black hair away from her daughter's face. She wanted to say something but wasn't sure what. She wanted to tell Ebony that she was beautiful, that she loved her, that she was proud of her.
"You should get back to your friends," Bobbin said instead, her voice quiet but kind.
Ebony just nodded.
"Please cherish every moment you have with them. You're so young—don't wish your life away."
"Okay," Ebony said in a small voice, her eyes still shining with a sort of dazed awe. She offered her mother one last smile before she departed.
Bobbin's heart felt full and warm, and she remained in the centre of the room for a while, staring at the spot where her daughter had just stood, long after she'd departed. She knew Roberts would be there soon, eager to know what Ebony had sought the Head out for.
The smell of apples lingered, and so did the word Ebony had casually thrown out for the first time. Mum.
And now, because of that word, Bobbin thought a little warily, she had the near-impossible task of arranging a last-minute Hogsmeade trip for hundreds of students.
Even still, she smiled.
Mum.
Author's Note: Title and epigraph inspired by 'White Christmas'—you all know the one! There are many versions, but my personal favourite is Michael Bublé's, which is the one I was mainly listening to when writing this story
