November was particularly demanding for everyone in the Order as Dumbledore wanted them to expand their tactics. Their recruitment and training efforts remained selective but had grown over the last weeks. They had acquired new members who were vetted thoroughly by Kingsley and Mad Eye. Emma had managed to recruit two new members from St. Mungo's, Dorea Hicks, a third-year trainee and Sam Hitchins, a potioneer who worked at Mungo's and took up a bulk of the potion-making Emma was doing. Hicks and Hitchins were both Muggleborn.

The Order's other main activity was the protection and relocation of safehouses, especially after a breach of a tiny cottage near a wizarding village, which left the Order shaken. Moody had doubled the protective enchantments at the already fortified Grimmauld Place, while he and Kingsley had expertly connected and tracked every member's Floo network. Emma did not have a fireplace, thankfully. She didn't know what would happen if she had one and Pia had access. She tried to banish the thought away. Thankfully she had not heard from her sister since her surprise visit last month.

Remus Lupin was expected to return from the werewolves around the holidays. Sirius insisted on personally handling the most tricky intelligence gathering missions, often disappearing for days at a time. McKinnon, on the other hand, had plunged herself in reformulating the Order's strategy, as she thought they were not organised enough, something that made her bump heads with Moody in particular, who thought she was too demanding.

As they headed closer to the Christmas period, it did not seem that there would be any respite, and small fleeting moments of friendship and laughter, like the frequent little dinner parties Emma had with Tonks and Fleur did not offer the reprieve they promised. Well…especially because Tonks gossiped non-stop about the whole McKinnon-Black situation much to Emma's dismay.

Tonks was holding her glass of wine precariously and Emma was eyeing her worriedly, as the bright pink liquid swirled with Tonks' abrupt movements.

"Are you sure it was a bite? As in, they-had-hot-sex bite?" asked the Auror bewildered.

Emma sighed, and put her own glass down abruptly. "Must you be so graphic?"

"Just saying! It's important to be specific with these things," Tonks said, raising her hands up in a gesture of mock surrender. Emma was happy that Tonks was not as down as she was when Lupin left, but she also did not want to recount the scene with Sirius and McKinnon a million times. It was enough that she had to watch them at Grimmauld, as the Auror did not hide her affections for Sirius.

"What is this about 'ot sex'?" Fleur asked, as she made her way back into Emma's small living room from the bathroom.

Emma rolled her eyes and made space for Fleur on the sofa. "Tonks is being her usual ridiculous self," she said.

Tonks protested and let her glass down with a thud, spilling half the contents on Emma's rug. The Auror cursed loudly and Emma moved her wand swiftly and looked exasperated at the loud clumsy witch.

"Seriously, Tonks. I don't know how you manage with this clumsiness of yours!" said Emma huffing.

"I'm just trying to get the details!" said Tonks petulantly before turning to Fleur. "Emma saw Marlene McKinnon practically swallowing Sirius whole a few weeks ago."

"Ah, ze famous Marlene. Mrs. Weasley talks all about 'er," said Fleur with a slight snobbish tone.

"Can we please talk about something else? This is getting tedious," said Emma.

"But it's Sirius! And Marlene!" said Tonks and Fleur giggled.

"For Merlin's sake, enough with Black and McKinnon! I'm sure they're both perfectly capable of entertaining themselves," said Emma, getting up to check on a roasted chicken.

Fleur gave Emma a long, considering look: "Oui, I am sure zey are."

"I mean, I am happy for Sirius. After everything, finding a girlfriend is some comfort," said the younger Auror and hiccuped loudly.

"Ah, zo it's official?" said Fleur.

"Dunno," said Tonks. "Sirius is not the one to sit down for tea and talk about his love life," said Tonks grimacing.

Fleur hummed and sipped her wine. Emma could hear them from the kitchen and tried not to appear as flustered as she probably was.

Bill had whisked Fleur away after supper, leaving Emma and Tonks alone. Emma found a strange comfort in the mundane task, the repetitive motions calming the anxious flutter in her chest.

"Need a hand with those?"

Emma jumped, nearly dropping a plate as Tonks suddenly appeared. "Merlin, Tonks! Don't do that!"

Tonks chuckled, plucking a teacup from the drying rack and levitating it towards the table. The cup wobbled precariously in mid-air before landing with a clunk, narrowly missing a stack of saucers.

"Sorry," Tonks mumbled. "I am a bit rusty with household spells."

"It's alright," Emma said. She took the cup from Tonks, drying it with a briskness that bordered on aggression.

Tonks frowned. "You alright, Emma? You've been on edge all evening. Were we overbearing?"

"Sorry, Tonks. I'm just...tired, I think."

Tonks studied her for a moment. "You've been scrubbing that cup for a full minute, Emma," Tonks pointed out. "If it were any cleaner, it'd be sparkling like a bezoar."

Emma flushed, realising how tightly she was gripping the dishcloth. "Right," she mumbled. "Just...trying to be thorough."

"It's not about the dishes, is it?" she said softly, her playful demeanour fading. "Is it about the whole Sirius -McKinnon thing?" Tonks asked. "I kinda wanna call them Blackkinnon," she contemplated amusedly.

Emma turned around forcefully and opened her mouth. Then she closed it again and kept aggressively scrubbing the dish.

Then Tonks' eyes widened.

"Merlin's beard, Emma, you fancy him!"

Emma looked horrified at Tonks. "Don't be ridiculous."

"Don't lie to me! I'm an Auror too, you know. Well, not as handsy as Marlene McKinnon–"

Emma couldn't help herself and burst out laughing, unable to help herself.

"Seriously, though. Do you? Like Sirius?" Tonks pressed.

"Stop it, Tonks. I don't." Emma, her cheeks flushing pink, tried to deflect. "I just... I think it's a bit distasteful, that's all. Flaunting it like that, right under everyone's noses."

"Distasteful?" Tonks echoed, raising a sceptical eyebrow. "Or are you just...jealous?"

"Of Marlene McKinnon? Please. She can have him."

"Are you…sure?" she baited.

Emma, her shoulders slumping slightly, finally gave in. "It's stupid," she mumbled, more to herself than to Tonks.

"It's not stupid," Tonks insisted, her voice firm. "It's just...life. And who knows? Stranger things have happened. Plus, you are much prettier than Marlene McKinnon," she said conspiratorially.

Emma, unable to maintain the charade any longer, let out a long, weary sigh. She leaned against the edge of the sink.

"Oh, Emma..." Tonks breathed, her voice softening with sympathy.

"It's ridiculous, isn't it?" Emma said, her voice barely a whisper. "He's...Sirius."

Tonks ignored her. "Does he know?" she asked.

Emma snorted, a humourless sound.

"He's a bit...thick...when it comes to those sorts of things. Don't worry, we'll find a way to clue him in."

"No!" said Emma. "Tonks, absolutely not. Don't you dare bring it up. He'll see right through it, and then it'll be mortifyingly awkward."

Tonks deflated slightly. "Alright, alright, no need to hex me. I was just trying to help."

Emma was silent for a moment and was staring at the kitchen tiles.

"Although, I could casually ask him how serious things are with McKinnon. You know, just to...gauge his reaction."

"It's just a silly, stupid crush. It'll pass" said Emma sadly.

"You're a terrible liar," said Tonks.

"Alright, fine," she conceded."But it's not like anything can happen anyway, so what's the point in dwelling on it?"

"But it's real," Tonks repeated, her gaze unwavering. "Besides," she added,"maybe if Sirius knew how you felt, he might surprise you."

"Tonks, he's with Marlene," Emma pointed out, her tone a mix of exasperation and resignation. "And even if he wasn't...he's the–" She trailed off, biting back the rest of her sentence.

"Even if he wasn't...what?" Tonks pressed.

"It's nothing, really," Emma mumbled, hoping to deflect Tonks' probing. "Just...silly things."

"Emma, whatever it is, you can tell me. We're friends, remember? And friends share their burdens."

Emma sighed. A wave of sadness, cold and heavy, passed through her. How could she possibly explain to Tonks, someone who wore loyalty like a second skin, the tangled knot of shame and fear that tightened in her chest whenever she thought about Sirius?

How could she confess that the reason she was so upset wasn't just because of Marlene McKinnon, but because of a name whispered with disgust and hatred everywhere around her.

Peter Pettigrew.

Her brother. A Death Eater. A traitor.

...

Harry found himself squished between professor Slughorn and some very odd guests at his Christmas party, a man who was obsessed with being commissioned for Harry's biography, a vampire, and some other questionable personas Slughorn wanted him to meet.

Harry's date, Luna, was engrossed in a conversation with Sybil Trelawney, the divination teacher no one seemed to think highly of. Hermione, meanwhile, was strategically hidden behind a towering stack of guest favours, desperately hoping Cormac McLaggen wouldn't spot her.

Harry was not having a great time, he thought of leaving there and then but suddenly, the revelry was interrupted by a loud commotion at the entrance.

Filch was dragging a very disgruntled Draco Malfoy through the party.

Malfoy looked more pale than ever and sickly. Even more so than the few glimpses Harry had taken of him in the last months.

"Caught this one in the corridor, Professor Slughorn," Filch announced triumphantly. "Up to no good, I'll wager. Says he has an invitation, but has failed to show any trace of it!"

Slughorn, who had been in the midst of regaling a group of giggling girls with a tale of his youth, looked momentarily flustered. "Draco? What on earth is happening?"

Before Malfoy could answer, however, Snape swept into the centre of the room, his black robes billowing behind him.

"What is this disturbance?" he drawled, his dark eyes scanning the room. His gaze landed on Malfoy.

"Malfoy has been apprehended wandering the corridors, Severus," Slughorn explained, sounding surprised and slightly put out at having his party interrupted.

Snape fixed Malfoy with a steely glare. "Ten points from Slytherin. And you will follow me."

"Oh, Severus, I am sure there is no need–" started Slughorn but Snape ignored him.

Without another word, Snape turned to his heel and exited the room, Malfoy trailing behind him like a chastised puppy. The partygoers, after a moment of stunned silence, resumed their conversations, Harry, however, couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. He needed to find out why Malfoy desperately wanted to crash the party and what Snape would tell him. He excused himself from Luna, muttering something about needing to use the loo, and slipped out of the dungeon, following the path Snape and Malfoy had taken.

Harry quickly threw on his Invisibility Cloak when no one was in the corridor and followed Snape and Malfoy all the way to Snape's office. He could hear snippets of their conversation, their voices hushed and irritated.

"I told you to leave me alone!" Malfoy hissed, his voice shaking with a mixture of anger and fear.

"And I told you," Snape's voice was low and menacing, "that I will not tolerate your reckless behaviour. What you are doing is foolish and dangerous, Draco!"

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Malfoy spat back. "I know what I'm doing!"

"Oh, do you now? And what exactly is it that you're doing, Draco? Besides jeopardising everything? The incident with Katie Bell was an infantile move–" said Snape.

Harry gasped. That was it, Malfoy was behind the cursed necklace–he knew it!

"I'm fulfilling my duty!" Malfoy yelled, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "And I had nothing to do with Bell."

"Really?" said Snape unconvinced.

" I won't let you..." Malfoy erupted and then he stopped abruptly, as if realising he'd said too much.

"What are you babbling about?"

"It's none of your business!" Malfoy shouted. "Just leave me alone! You're just trying to undermine me, to steal my glory!"

"You are acting like a child, Draco. A petulant, spoiled child playing with fire he doesn't understand. And I assure you, your... master... will not be pleased with your carelessness," Snape said threateningly.

Malfoy went silent as if the weight of Snape's words had finally broken through his anger.

Harry's mind raced. Master. Snape had said something about a master. Who else could be Malfoy's master….except for…

A surge of triumph, brief but potent, shot through Harry as he stood fixed on the wall. He'd been right! Malfoy was a Death Eater.

But the triumph was quickly replaced by a wave of unease. If Malfoy was a Death Eater, what was Snape's role in all of this?

Suddenly, the door at the end of the corridor burst open and Malfoy stormed out, shoving past Harry so forcefully that the impact nearly knocked him off his feet.

Harry left the corridor with his head pounding. Malfoy was a Death Eater. And Snape was helping him.

Emma carefully navigated the creaky steps of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, a vial of Sirius's daily potion clutched tightly in her hand. He'd been particularly tense lately, and her and Eulalia were still instructed to give him calming potions for his sleep. The potion she was holding was a blend of calming essences and restorative ingredients and she had tweaked it personally for him–which made her feel a bit foolish because this made him a patient technically.

Reaching the ground floor, she was about to head towards the kitchen where she assumed Sirius would be, when she heard his familiar bark of laughter coming from the drawing-room. A flicker of warmth spread through her, as she approached the drawing-room door, intending to just leave the potion on a side table. But before she could knock, Marlene McKinnon's voice stopped her in her tracks.

"He really is his father's son, isn't he?" She was talking about Harry Potter, Sirius' godson.

"Spitting image," Sirius said proudly. "James would be so bloody proud."

Emma froze. She did not want to enter the room with McKinnon being there but she also could not help but feel guilt for the nostalgia in Sirius' voice. He was undeniably talking about his long-lost friend, James Potter.

She knew she should go immediately, but something prevented her from leaving.

"Well, I'd like to meet him again," Marlene said. "Properly, this time."

"Maybe over the holidays?" Sirius suggested. "He will be here for a few days before Christmas."

Emma could only hear Sirius' footsteps for a split second and took a sharp breath. There was a pause and she then realised that they were kissing.

"That would be nice. You, me, and Harry," she muttered.

...

Emma didn't wait for Sirius' response. Emma turned away with her heart heavy in her chest. She picked up the vial of potion and a flick of her wrist, she sent it floating up the stairs, towards Sirius' room, so he could find it later. She grabbed her cloak and left the house in a hurry.

Moments later she was on the doorstep of her own small flat. She leaned against the door for a moment, catching her breath, her anger fading into a dull ache of disappointment. She felt foolish, childish even, for allowing herself to get caught up in Sirius' life. She had her own life to live, her own problems to solve. Portia was still missing, she had a traitor brother who faked his own death, another sister who resented her, and she was pining over a man who was out of bounds–because of her family.

She needed to get rid of those misguided feelings, of all this confusion.

She threw her coat on the armchair, and suddenly, in need of comfort, she remembered her sister, Portia. Calm, sweet, soothing Portia. She needed her.

A glimpse of realisation passed through her at that moment. That was it. This was the time to try again!

This could be the memory.

Emma stood in the middle of her living room and grasped her wand from its holder.

She thought, and thought, and then succumbed to memory.

"Expecto Patronum" she said clearly.

Nothing.

" Expecto Patronum!" she enunciated more clearly and Portia's face, her ginger hair and pink cheeks, her scent came to her mind. She needed her, she needed someone from her family who could be there for her, who was not a traitor, or a murderer, or blinded by bitterness.

A silvery mist erupted from the tip of Emma's wand, swirling and solidifying in the air before her. Her breath hitched.

It had worked. For the first time, she had conjured a corporeal Patronus.

It wasn't a shimmering shadow or a formless blob, but a fully-formed creature of radiant magic.

A slender female dog, its coat the colour of snow, materialised in the centre of the living room. It moved with an ethereal grace, her long snout sniffing the air curiously before turning towards Emma.

Emma remained frozen. The Patronus padded towards her, its steps completely silent, and nudged her hand playfully with its nose. A wave of calm washed over her, a sense of peace so profound it brought hot tears to her eyes.

Tentatively, Emma lifted her hand to touch the Patronus. She expected resistance, but her fingers passed right through, a tingling warmth lingering where the Patronus had been. The dog wagged its tail and made small excited jumps and circles around her, playfully waiting for the command.

"I need you to find Portia Pettigrew. Will you?" she said in a choked voice and the Patronus then gave a soundless bark and strode through the living room. The creature only turned around for another soundless bark before it flew through the long narrow window, disappearing into the night sky.

For once in years, despite the disappointments, Emma felt like she was coming home.