NOTE

Warning for feelings of grief, PTSD, and brief imagery of sexual trauma and blood.

106. Christmas Again

Remus woke me up with gentle hands and murmurs.

My eyes blinked open to blurriness. I'd slept the night in the salty sea of my tears. My hand shifted under the warm sheets to rub my closed eyelids.

His thumb brushed across my shoulder and I opened my eyes again. He sat near but not too close, the mattress dipping slightly from his weight. Questions and worries swirled in his eyes but remained unspoken.

"Happy Christmas," he whispered.

Pouncer hopped from the bed with a purr and I stood up, gripping the bedknob. Remus stood next to me as I pulled my dressing gown on.

Every movement ached. The fabric on my arms was cold. I was trapped in the uneasy limbo between numbness and agony.

No words were spoken as we went downstairs. Remus's fingers lingered, feather-light, against my elbow. As though he feared I might fall.

The kitchen table was dressed beautifully in red and green, silver and gold. A little paper angel sang soft carols, and Pouncer followed her with his green eyes wherever she floated.

Andromeda had prepared breakfast. I couldn't smell it, and had no desire to eat. I sat in my chair with a numb stare.

Gifts were unwrapped under the tree, the yuletide pixies lighting the branches with their warm fire.

Teddy was given his wooden train. Remus made it roll about on the floor with his oak wand. When Teddy had tired of chasing it he climbed into his father's lap and sat there with the painted engine clutched to his chest.

Molly gave Phoebe a brown paper parcel. Inside was the jumper which had sat unfinished on the chair, and was now complete, with a 'P' on the front.

"It'll be swimming," Molly said, her voice grey. "But…"

Phoebe crawled across the floor and embraced her as a mother.

Other gifts were exchanged. My eyes were open but all I saw was the once-removed glow from the lights in the tree and the fire. I lay beneath layers of numbness.

Ginny gave me a green scarf and I wrapped it loosely round my neck, pulling it up to my nose.

Then it was over and I sat there breathing in the warmth, trying to remember if yarn like this had a smell.

"Professor Weasley?"

I turned my head. Phoebe was there, looking down at me, a small bag over her shoulder. I just stared at her, not thinking that she might expect me to respond.

"I'm excited to study more potions," she said.

I gave a crippled nod.

A wrinkled hand appeared on the girl's shoulder and Ms Figg's brown eyes looked down at me too. "Take care," she said, in her gravelly voice.

Phoebe waved goodbye and they went away together.

I stayed by the fire, staring at the changing flames.

Andromeda brought a mug of tea and I held it. Gooseflesh crept up my forearms. The memory of last night was covered in ice like a lake in winter, the pain kept down.

Ginny sat with me for a while. I knew I should be grateful. Someone was willing to tolerate my empty company. But all I wanted was to be alone.

I put my boots and cloak on and wandered outside.

It was less frigid than it had been the night before. The light was silver and a slight breeze stirred the dark skeletons of the treetops over the barren white garden.

Remus was stood beside a thicket, the lingering pain from his transformation clear in his posture. I went over, boots crunching in the snow.

"He's disappeared in there," he said. I knew from the small bootprints around the edge of the thorny bushes, and the disturbance of the snow near a small opening in the side, that he meant Teddy. "He'll come out. Unless you've been hiding Wonderland in your garden?"

I looked at him in blank confusion.

"A Muggle story," he murmured. "I'm surprised you never…"

A sense of displacement spread through me from my spine. The memory of the orphanage… reading stories to the other children. My mind had been frozen for a moment, but of course I recalled the tale of the girl who fell down the rabbit hole.

"I did," I said. And my voice seemed quieter than ever.

I don't know what seized me then, what gave me the permission to sink down to my knees and crawl into the opening, which led to a tunnel I was just small enough to use. I remembered the place where I'd discovered the wolves, now keeping Hagrid company at Hogwarts.

My passage was simple, no long hair to snag and tangle in the brambles. The earth was freezing under my hands but I didn't mind.

The distance wasn't far but it must have felt like a great journey to the little boy. The tunnel ended in a slightly larger hollow, where two of three small children could have sat together around an imaginary fire.

There was no other way out than the way I'd come and a surge of worry came over me at Teddy's absence.

Then something moved, and what looked like a branch bending oddly suddenly touched my face with warm soft fingers. I gasped and a peal of bubbling laughter made me realise that Teddy had put his abilities to use, his skin and hair turning the grey of the brambles.

As he slowly shifted back to his normal appearance he looked at me, clearly desiring approval for his mischief. And in that look I could see Remus, as I'd imagined him young, and the influence of Sirius Black, which had surely lingered somewhere in his veins, and was now here, showing itself in the eyes of his son. An illusion which was helped, surely, by Sirius's blood relation to Teddy's mother.

Teddy continued giggling, toddling into me and touching my cheeks with joy at my silent surprise.

But slowly his mirth faded and he just looked at me with a quiet, questioning expression, his hair again turning white to mimic mine. I stared back at him. What was wrong with me… unable to summon a smile for this child.

Sounds came from beyond the little haven of the thin branches; the back door opening and closing, and the crunching of snow.

"Hullo, Arthur," Remus said.

I wrapped my arm around Teddy. Hugging him near was all I could do, expressionless and stiff as I was. I allowed his little hands to touch my face as I angled my ear towards the conversation.

"Remus," Arthur said, a haggard sigh in his voice. I had noticed over the past days that, of my two parents, Arthur was the better off. Molly had been reduced to a shell and he was holding her up as best he could, which meant hiding much of his pain. But his devastation, his own numbness, was thick in his voice. "Where's the little one?"

"In there."

Arthur gave a weak chuckle. "Ah. He'd have discovered it, yes… They used to play in there. Fred and…"

There was a long pause, the wind whistling through the branches.

"I am so sorry," Remus said softly. "It is unimaginable."

The silence told all.

"Molly and I… are thinking of going somewhere. France, maybe."

"Yes," Remus replied. "Get away for a while."

Arthur gave another tired chuckle. "You know, the Muggles think the world is going to end at the end of the year. It'll be a new millennium. Two-thousand."

The fact resonated strangely in my core. It did sound foreign.

"Well. That is surreal," Remus quietly agreed.

Arthur gave a halfhearted hum. "Don't let him freeze in there," he said. Then I listened to him walk away somewhere. Towards his shed, probably.

Another silence stretched out before Remus spoke. "How're you two getting on in there?"

"Fine," I said. A weak croak.

Teddy was trying to twist the ends off some of the branches, clearly having some sort of game or image in mind which I could not fathom. He looked at me expectantly but I only stared back.

I saw his confusion and disappointment in me, this adult who had forgotten how to play.

Silently he went past me and crawled back along the passage to his father, with whom there was a much better chance of imagination and excitement.

I stayed there hugging my knees in the tiny cold hollow, hidden from the world, unwanted.

"Wilma? Alright?" Remus said, after a minute.

Had I been able to cry I might have done. But there was no energy left in me. He spoke no more, but a blanket of warmth fell over me. A warming charm.

I heard Teddy's happy scream as he ran over the snow, and Remus's slower footsteps following him. He would leave me alone, but not loveless.

I stayed there for a long time, past the time when my hips started to cramp, past every other tingle and pain, letting the emptiness echo in me.

When finally I crawled out I stood with my hand against a tree, staring at the cold winter sky. The infrequent birds. The wind that moved the trees also touched me, but I was immovable. I couldn't understand its message yet. I stood there for some time, then went inside.

We had two visitors on Boxing Day.

First there was a Ministry official. He brought news that aurors had found the shapeshifting witch who had kidnapped Remus in Germany, and she was now in Azkaban. At the end of his message he drew a tiny paper envelope from his pocket and gave it to Remus. It held his father's ring.

The only possession of his that remained.

I remembered the pages of his Odyssey curling in the witch's fire.

It was a wonder she hadn't sold the ring. I imagined her hoarding it, keeping it with her until she'd been captured.

Remus put the ring in his pocket and made no mention of it, though he looked pale and his eyes were distant for the rest of the morning.

After noon Minerva came.

I was a statue of shame as I stood by the range, waiting for the water for tea to boil. Minerva and Remus sat at the table behind me, immersed in slow conversation. It was the first time they had seen one another since last January. Almost a whole year.

I'd last seen Minerva at my trial. But before that she'd seen me naked, seen me covered in blood on that moth eaten rug…

I had showered multiple times, scoured every part of myself with soap. But I couldn't smell myself. I was convinced some rancid smell must have been coming from me. Some part of me was still rotting inside and I couldn't smell the stench. That would explain the unease I saw in Minerva's eyes. The unease hiding deeper distaste, revulsion…

Shaking my head, my fingers thin and trembling, I poured the water into the teapot, set in the leaves and carried it to the table.

"Thank you, Miss Weasley."

I sat on the chair next to Remus with a silent grimace. I was sore today, but I tolerated it. I crossed my legs and leaned to the side, hugging myself with my arms.

"As I'm quite sure you've gathered," Minerva began, "I've come to ask you both about teaching next term."

Remus became more alert at my side but I could barely pay attention.

"But, Minerva…"

"I won't hear it, Remus. You have always had a place at Hogwarts and you always will. The only question is, do you want to teach?"

Remus glanced at me. I felt his eyes but my own remained hazily focused on the teapot and the steam. "Yes," he said. "But I'm not sure…"

"I would offer you Defence, of course. But seeing as Miss Weasley has taken over Potions I must give—" (his name was like being submerged, momentarily deaf) "—priority."

Trembling, I stood and shuffled slowly to the cabinet for my pain potion.

"Need help?" Remus said, half-rising from the chair.

I shook my head and he sat down again.

"I do have a suggestion, Remus, if you would listen."

"Of course."

"Madam Pince is going into retirement, you see. Perhaps, and I know it's not the same as teaching, but you might take up her position in the library. Merlin knows there are… more interesting things that could be done with the post than dear Irma cared to explore."

"I do have a question… about Teddy…"

"I don't see why the boy couldn't live with you at Hogwarts."

I found the right vial and took it down, barely able to remove the cork.

"You truly wouldn't object?"

Pressing the thin glass rim to my lips, I swallowed. Immediate relief drifted through my veins like a cloud.

Minerva must have shaken her head, because Remus said "Thank you."

I turned, one hand pressed against the worktop. "Why won't he take Potions?"

Minerva looked at me, her eyes guarded as she deciphered my words. "Of course he wouldn't do so, as he expects your return."

"I won't return."

Their faces furrowed with concerned surprise.

"I'm not going to teach," I said. "I don't know what I'll do but I'm not going back."

Remus stood all the way this time. "Why not?"

I shivered and shook my head. I couldn't be around students, I could barely think straight let alone lead a classroom… he didn't want to see me… if I had to be confined within the walls of Hogwarts with both of them close at hand I would go mad.

"You should just ask him to take Potions. Then you—" I glanced at Remus "—can have Defence."

"I'll be content in the library," Remus said, his voice lowering with worry.

"And I'm quite sure Severus wouldn't take Potions even if I did ask him to," Minerva went on. "Miss Weasley… I must implore you to reconsider this decision… there is still time."

I knew that, by insisting, I was leaving Minerva in a difficult position. But I had no other choice.

"I'm not going back."

"Wilma," Remus said softly. "Let's at least speak about this first?"

"No."

They were both looking at me, expecting, worrying.

I closed the cabinet and left the kitchen with my shoulders hunched, climbing to my room and closing the door.

The new year began and the world hadn't ended. Or, if it had, we were none the wiser.

Molly and Arthur left for France together that evening. They would go to the same inn where Andromeda and Gabriel had first met, and where we had briefly stopped in our search for Baddock. By the coast, near the Monet arches. I could remember no further. My memories of Severus were shrouded in grey, pain refusing to be felt.

Everyone was at the Burrow to say goodbye. There were murmurs and hugs and waves. They had only two small cases and a carpetbag, and they took a portkey from the garden.

Once they were gone, everyone left. Now that there were no parents to support, the house seemed empty, a ghost in itself, and the children who'd grown up there were eager to escape its haunting. Bill went back to Fleur and Victoire in their house by the sea. Ron went to Diagon Alley, to the joke shop.

Only Ginny stayed.

Gabriel visited again. He and Andromeda carried the Christmas tree back to the woods to shake out the faeries. They would find other trees to sleep in until next winter. Then they went away to the cottage in Hunston, taking Teddy with them. Remus would get settled in at Hogwarts before bringing his son to the castle.

The boy gave Pouncer a big cuddle before leaving. The kneazle tolerated the affection and Teddy's hair turned the yellow of Pouncer's fur, his eyes the green of Pouncer's eyes. Gabriel carried the cars of the model train in his arms and they left by floo.

Remus had agreed to become the Hogwarts librarian come the fifth of January, when the spring term would begin. He had tried to sway me to come north. Another letter had come from Minerva. The Potions post was being kept open for me until the last possible moment. But I refused to go, I couldn't, and finally they stopped pressing me.

On the third snow fell and Luna and her father knocked on the door. They'd brought sage for the house. When Luna removed her cloak I saw she'd begun to show. The slightest swell in her middle. She had always been ethereal but pregnancy had turned her into an angel.

When the bundle of sage began to smoke and they started carrying it through the rooms, I didn't know whether to feel invaded or appreciative.

I followed them around like the lost orphan I was, watching as they purified each corner.

I had changed. I could no longer look at people with innocence. Without a dark ember of resentment, deep down. How could they be standing, whispering, peacefully, on two feet?

A nightmare.

I must have forgotten my Dreamless Sleep. Or gone to the cabinet and seen I'd run out and forgotten its importance.

I knew I'd been screaming because my throat was raw.

The air was on fire and everything was red.

Those weren't my hands, those weren't my ankles twisted in the blood-wet sheet.

The door opened and Remus surrounded me with his arms, pulling me up and holding me against his chest.

"Blood," I wheezed. "Blood, blood…"

"What blood?"

I gave a horrible squeal, a pig about to be slaughtered.

"There's no blood, Wilma. You're not bleeding, you're sweating."

A lamp was lit and the darkness that had seemed red was illuminated, and it was only the berry hues of the patchwork quilt, and the sheet was white.

"Shh," Remus soothed, his hand cradling my head, my shoulder. "It's alright. You're right here with me."

Ginny came through the door and sat at the end of the bed, her face a battlefield of tenderness and terror.

"I can't breathe," I sobbed, suffocated. "I can't move."

Remus's fingers wrapped around my hand. His chest shifted against my back and his gentle face looked down at me.

"Can you move your fingers for me? Just a little?"

I stared into his eyes, clinging on, that ocean of patience keeping me afloat. And I felt the ache of sinew and bone, my clammy fingertips curling against his knuckles.

"There you go," he murmured, his lips resting, so warm, against my hair.

I can move. I can.

I shifted my legs and let out another sob of exhaustion and shame as I rolled away from him and lay gasping on my side. Pangs of phantom pain ripped through my middle like lightning flashes and I shivered in time with them, knowing there was nothing I could do but wait.

Ginny stood. "I'll make some tea."

Remus stayed near me, his thigh pressed against my spine, his hand resting on my shoulder.

I felt wicked for relying on him, for needing him to take care of me. But I didn't stop him from continuing.

I was still in a daze. He must have summoned a cool rag. He slowly bathed my hands, my forehead, my neck.

Ginny returned with tea and Remus went to find dry sheets.

The mattress dipped as Ginny sat next to me, and I weakly propped myself against the headboard, barely meeting her eyes. "It's alright," she said, as she handed me the mug. The perfect temperature. "There's nothing wrong with nightmares. Harry still has them."

Yes, Harry Potter, the boy who saved the world, but what did I have to show for mine? What excuse did I have for my pain?

Remus carried in new sheets and I left the tea, going shakily into the loo. I closed the door, stripped off my sweat soaked clothes and sat on the edge of the bathtub in the dark, rinsing myself with palmfuls of freezing water. Freezing away the pain, the hands and knives and blood.

There was a soft knock on the door. I stood behind it and Remus passed me an oversized shirt and cotton knickers. The shirt was something I'd once worn to sleep in the summers when I was younger. It fell to my mid-thighs and I had to roll the sleeves up. I pulled the knickers on, shivering even when my own hands touched my hips.

When I finished I opened the door and Remus flicked his wand, sending the clothes I'd left on the floor to the heap of sweaty sheets on the landing outside. I started to bend down but Ginny intervened. "No. I'll take care of it. You go back to sleep."

She looked at me with her clear eyes, and gave me a soft kiss on the cheek before taking the laundry downstairs.

The mug of tea was still sitting on the bedside table, beside the tin of ointment for my hand, the lavender and sandalwood oils, an empty vial of pain potion and my useless wand. The accessories of my illness.

I reached for the small bottle with the silver ball and rolled some on my wrists, as Poppy had recommended.

I couldn't quite smell it but something in the oils must have worked regardless. I felt my heartbeat grow slightly more steady.

"Want to be alone?" Remus asked quietly, standing in half-shadow by the door.

I knew I should want him to go. But I didn't. I kept quiet, still shivering from the shock and the cold water.

Remus closed the door and went to the chest of drawers again, digging out a pair of warm socks. He pointed gently to the edge of the mattress and I sat on the freshly made bed, watching as he knelt—with a pop of his hip—and rolled the warm fleece onto my feet. The backs of his fingers whispered against my arches.

His hands held the backs of my ankles, softly sliding up to my calves. The touch was grounding but every short breath increased the danger of tears as he looked up at me. My eyes grew wet and I turned my face away.

"Want to tell me?" he said.

I shook my head.

He sighed and pressed a hand into the mattress as he stood up. Fear moved in me and I held onto his hand, not wanting him to go. He looked down at me and I gently pulled him closer. Selfish.

"Stay?"

His fingers squeezed lightly. "Of course."

I made room and he climbed on the bed, lying down and wrapping both arms around me. I rested against his side, my head on his shoulder, listening to his heart.

His fingers slowly caressed my hair. "Don't be ashamed, love," he whispered.

I faded into sleep and when I awoke in the pale morning light I was still in his arms.

The days since Christmas had gone by in a haze, and now it was the fourth of January. Remus would leave in the evening for Hogwarts.

An anxious shadow hung upon his face throughout the day.

Ginny made lunch and once we'd eaten I did the washing up. Remus stepped into the kitchen. "May I speak with you?" he said quietly.

I looked over my shoulder and nodded.

He leaned against the table behind me and gave a quiet but heavy sigh, evidently waiting for me to finish. I scrubbed the last cup and turned the water off, drying my hands as I gazed at him. The winter sunlight exaggerated his scars.

"Wilma…" He cleared his throat softly. "I wish for you to come with me."

He paused for a moment but I offered no answer.

"I think you should be somewhere you don't have to be alone. Where you can be taken care of."

Poppy had sent more dreamless sleep with an owl from St Mungo's. I would have everything I needed here. I couldn't go back. Too many people, too many expectations.

"I can take care of myself," I said, haltingly. "And you have to take care of Teddy, first. You can't take care of us both."

His face gentled. "I don't see it that way. We can take care of each other."

"I'm not strong enough…"

He sighed and stood up, his hands in his pockets, blue eyes earnest as he looked down at me. "What do you think we've been doing these past weeks?"

"You've been taking care of me," I argued, my throat tightening as my body responded with defensiveness. "I haven't done anything."

"You stayed with me when I transformed. You helped me with the pain. You've been patient with me. I could never ask more of you."

"You did more for me."

"Please stop punishing yourself." His tone was patient, but I could sense the hidden frustration under it. He sighed apologetically. "I want you to come with me, too, you know. Even though I know it would be difficult… I know…"

For the first time he seemed to be deliberately hinting at the Hippogriff in the room. He had never questioned me about what had happened on Christmas Eve. But I was still unprepared to speak of it.

I spoke slowly, discovering the truth. "I need time to be alone. I don't even know what I'm feeling, or who I am. I'm sorry. I'm not coming with you."

My rejection swept over his face, painting it with sadness. But he made no argument against it.

"As you wish," he said quietly, and walked away.

He left after six, when the sky was dark and snowless. After a long embrace, which I thought would make us both feel better, but only devastated me.

He promised to write.

I watched him from the window as he walked into the snowy meadow, the wind cutting through his hair and clothes. With no possessions, nothing to his name but his parents' rings in his pocket and his wand, he disapparated.

And the meadow was empty.

Ginny and I sat up late into the night by the fire, the loud moans of the wind keeping us both from sleep.

We were together in silence, Ginny reading a book, curled up on the couch, whilst I sat on the floor, staring at the flames and at the dark blackness of the window. Pouncer purred, asleep in my lap.

I looked at Ginny, who, immersed in her reading, didn't notice me. She was my beloved sister. So very close to me. And yet I felt the need to be alone.

It took many minutes to gather the bravery to speak.

"Ginny?"

She looked up, closing her book over her hand. "Hm?"

"Do you want to be here with me?"

No furrows formed on her smooth face. "Of course I do." She watched me thoughtfully. "Do you want me here?"

Ginny wasn't one for niceties. I breathed slowly, my hand resting on Pouncer's warm, soft body. "I need to be by myself," I finally confessed. "I need peace."

Ginny was silent for a moment, looking at me. Then she nodded her head. "I understand," she said simply. And looked back to her book.

She respected my wishes and in the morning she left for Godric's Hollow.

NOTE

It pained me to leave Wilma alone for so long so I had to write this chapter. I've been updating my other work, 'Miss Green,' much more frequently. This fic is far from abandoned, I just don't want to force it when the time isn't right. Future plot is slowly brewing, so I hope any gaps in updates now will be worth it later!

Take care of yourselves. All my love.