A Not-So-Happy Christmas

December 1996

When the first term of the Healer program finally ended, Alicia briefly contemplated burning all of her textbooks and notes as a cathartic experience. Only the knowledge that she might have a use for them at some point in the future kept her from actually doing so, but she did banish them to the bottom extension of her trunk where she wouldn't have to see them daily anymore. She knew Chrysanthe had probably done the same. Merlin, it had been a brutal term. But it was over, and she had hopefully passed all of her classes. She felt confident she had; Katie's unchanging condition had pushed her to do her best.

Chrysanthe arranged for a girls' night the evening after their final exam, and they were joined by Angelina and Karen. They ended up at a muggle bar that Chrysanthe's muggle-born boyfriend Danny recommended, because Diagon Alley was so dead, and it was worth it just to be around a positive atmosphere instead of the anxiety of the wizarding world. The music was good, they all agreed not to get drunk, Chrysanthe ordered the first round of drinks, and they grabbed a large booth so they could laugh and joke together. The hardest part, by far, was avoiding saying anything related to the magical world or breaking the Statute of Secrecy.

"This place is pretty fun," Angelina admitted, grinning at Chrysanthe. "How did Danny find it?"

"Oh, he knows all the good places. Always has."

"Do you two think you did okay on exams?" Karen asked Chrysanthe and Alicia.

Alicia nodded. "I hope so, but we won't know until just before Christmas. They said they would send our grades out on the 22nd."

"It's kind of sadistic," Chrysanthe admitted. "Especially if you failed the first term. Like, Merry Christmas, you don't get to come back! Because that was the whole point of the first term: weeding us out."

Angelina said bracingly, "I'm sure that won't happen to either of you. You're both bloody brilliant."

"Hopefully not. We've been doing pretty well," Chrysanthe agreed. "But I know at least one person in our class who wasn't."

She and Alicia exchanged a significant look. Ellen Redgrave had made C and B marks on the last two tests. Chrysanthe and Alicia had privately agreed not to offer to help her; both of them felt that Ellen would not have helped them if the situation had been reversed, and Vanhausen had made a damned good point in that they had to make it on their own in the program. Alicia wasn't sure why Redgrave hadn't dropped out yet, but maybe the girl thought perseverance would win Ecclestone over. She almost snorted at the idea. Not bloody likely. Ecclestone, though fair, was also as hard as flint.

Angelina's eyebrows arched. "Oh?"

"Ellen Redgrave," Alicia explained.

"That snobbish twit?" Angelina asked disparagingly. "I didn't know she was in the program. Sure as hell wouldn't want her heal—er, helping me."

"There were four of us from our year." Chrysanthe ticked them off on her fingers. "Me, Alicia, Redgrave, and Vanhausen. But Redgrave couldn't keep up with the coursework. At one point, she tried to blame Alicia and me for not helping her, which honestly just kind of pissed me off. It's not as if we've ever been friends with her."

"And of course," Karen said sagely, "It doesn't help that the professors were deliberately trying to weed people out this term."

Alicia nodded. "They were very clear about it. They absolutely made things difficult. I know why, but it didn't make it easier to deal with Redgrave being bitchy towards us."

"Why did they make things so hard?" Angelina frowned.

Chrysanthe gave her a twisted smile. "Because you're dealing with life and death situations. We have to be the best. The first term is purposefully set up to remove mediocre students from the program. If you aren't willing to work hard and study, you won't do well. Redgrave rarely studied when we were at school and she always made really high marks despite that. She thought she could do the same in this program. But you can't do that in this program. That's why Alicia and I agreed it was pointless to try and help her, after she went off on us. If she can't make it on her own, she doesn't need to be in the program."

"Mind if I join you?" a cool voice asked.

Alicia jolted and stared in horrified surprise. For some bizarre reason, Courtney Vanhausen was suddenly standing beside their booth, her platinum-blonde hair lightly curled and pulled back with a barrette, and her gaze cutting and wary. She was wearing a turtleneck, a mini-skirt, a pair of tights, and fashionable boots beneath a heavy winter coat, almost as though she went into muggle London all the time, when Alicia knew damned well the girl was a pureblood Slytherin who very likely hated muggles. It was true that most younger witches and wizards tended to dress pretty much the same as their muggle counterparts in their downtime, because dress robes were staid and old-fashioned, but Courtney was pulling off muggle clothing to perfection, and it struck Alicia as slightly odd. She was positive Vanhausen hadn't taken Muggle Studies. Slytherins hardly ever did.

Angelina looked just as startled as Alicia, but Karen smiled warmly and Chrysanthe grinned. The former Head Girl said, "I didn't think you'd come!"

"I almost didn't, Hayden." Courtney wrinkled her nose as she took her coat off and slid into the booth beside Chrysanthe. "It's a muggle bar, for gods' sake," she hissed, glaring around. "Are you out of your damn mind?"

Chrysanthe shrugged. "Just be careful what you say." Then, under her breath, she added, "Besides, it's a better vibe than the Alley and Hogsmeade. We could use some positivity tonight, right?"

"What's… going on?" Alicia asked warily.

Chrysanthe smiled. "Calm down, 'Licia. I know we three aren't exactly friends, but I figured she could stand to blow off some steam tonight, too. It's a girls' night, after all, and we all had a shitty term. Besides, going forward, it's probably going to be just the three of us from our year in the program. We may as well get used to each other, right?"

Alicia wasn't sure how she felt about Chrysanthe extending the proverbial olive branch to a Slytherin who had clearly disliked both of them at Hogwarts, especially when they were in the middle of a damn war on blood purity. And while Alicia didn't think Courtney was a Death Eater, she was positive the girl had strong views on blood status. Alicia and Karen were both half-bloods, and — as Vanhausen had so rightly said — they were in a muggle bar. And even though Chrysanthe and Angelina were purebloods, Courtney very likely considered both to be blood traitors. It was only slightly mollifying that Courtney looked like she wasn't sure about the whole thing, either. Chrysanthe was clearly out of her mind, Alicia thought.

Karen said cheerfully, "I'm glad you could come, Courtney. I miss seeing you, since we aren't in school anymore."

Courtney gave Karen a small smile. "I miss seeing you, too. Still dating that bossy-arse boyfriend of yours?"

Karen laughed. "Yes. I plan to marry his bossy-arse one day, you know."

"I remember you saying that," the Slytherin replied dryly. "To each their own, I guess."

"Er, do you two know each other well, or something?" Alicia asked.

Karen grinned. "Fairly. Courtney and I were partners in Advanced Transfiguration during sixth and seventh-years."

Alicia hadn't known that. She wondered how Courtney had felt about it back then, being partnered with a half-blood.

Angelina was clearly struggling with the whole thing too, but she did manage to ask in a stiff, polite voice, "So… do you think you did okay this term, Vanhausen?"

Courtney arched an eyebrow. "Yes."

"Well." Angelina twitched and tried to keep her lip from curling. "That's good, I suppose?"

The waitress appeared at that point to give them their first round of drinks, and Alicia realized then that Chrysanthe had ordered five on the chance that Courtney would show. She really had planned for Courtney to come, then. Merlin's beard. This was going to be a long night.

After the waitress walked off, Chrysanthe glanced between Courtney and Alicia and said, "So. Either of you burn your textbooks yet? Thought we could do that afterwards if we're still feeling bitter about Ecclestone's final exam. That fifth essay question was straight from the seventh level of hell."

At that, Alicia and Courtney both burst into laughter, and the tension broke.

"I did actually think about burning mine." Courtney snickered. "Bloody hell. If I don't ever see those fucking books again, it'll be too soon."

"Same," Alicia agreed, giggling.

"But," Courtney said shrewdly, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "You never know…"

Alicia nodded in irritated resignation. "We may need the damn things again at some point."

"Cheers, Spinnet." Courtney grimaced, held her drink up, and clinked it to Alicia's, then Chrysanthe's. "That's it exactly. Ecclestone might test us on theory again in January when we least expect him to, the great arse. And for better or worse, like Hayden said, it's going to be the three of us going forward."

Alicia couldn't resist. Coolly, she said, "Back in October, you were in this for yourself."

Courtney gave her a dark smile. "Oh, I am. All three of us are, if we get right down to it. But you know that already. It's not like I'm hiding the fact from either of you. And now that we've all passed the first term, we each know we can handle the workload. You're not going to use me to get ahead."

"True," Chrysanthe agreed. "And, at least you're an honest snake."

Alicia tensed slightly; next to her, she could tell Angelina had stiffened as well. Really, though — how did they know Courtney wasn't lying to them or using them? She was a Slytherin.

Courtney arched an eyebrow. "Not all snakes are evil, you know."

"I know that," Alicia said grudgingly. "But sometimes you snakes make it difficult to trust you."

Courtney narrowed her eyes. "Maybe lions make it difficult, too."

Angelina's lip curled. "It's the bloody rivalry that makes it so fucking difficult. And it goes back a long time —"

Chrysanthe interrupted. "Honestly? We need to put that shite behind us. We aren't at school anymore. We have to learn to work together, whether we like it or not. If the three of us are going to be around each other a lot of the time going forward, we can't be sniping at each other all the time."

Alicia could feel the tension again. Could Courtney put the fact that Alicia was a half-blood behind her to work in tandem with her through the rest of the Healer program? Could Alicia herself put her own prejudices aside to work alongside Courtney when they had to do rotations and labs? Chrysanthe, as always, had a deeper agenda than just inviting Courtney along for drinks, and Alicia should have guessed that earlier. Chrysanthe was looking at a much larger picture. The real question was whether Chrysanthe's ideals would work against the backdrop of the war.

Out of nowhere, Karen interjected. She grinned at them all a bit deviously. "Actually," she said, "You've all got it wrong. Badgers are the difficult ones. Hands down, every time. The rest of the houses are pansies compared to badgers."

The tension broke again; they all burst out laughing, even Courtney.

"That is absolutely true," Alicia giggled. "I am convinced that all badgers are evil."

Chrysanthe sucked the cherry from her drink and grinned. "We are, love. Never cross a badger."

"I can also agree to that," Courtney acknowledged, clinking Alicia's glass again. "Snakes and lions against badgers, then?"

Alicia laughed. "That sounds better."

Courtney sipped her drink before she said thoughtfully, "You know… I've always wanted to try an Appletini. I hear they're green. And you know us snakes. We love that color." She grinned mischievously.

"What's it supposed to taste like?" Angelina asked, arching an eyebrow.

Courtney tilted her head back and forth for a second, as though thinking. "I've heard it's supposed to be both sweet and tart."

Angelina smirked. "I'm up for that."

"Next round then." Chrysanthe grinned. "We can all give them a try."

Despite having a fun evening out with a group of girls — even Vanhausen, who mellowed the more alcohol she had and actually got on disturbingly well with Angelina once they'd both had a couple of drinks — Alicia had to admit that a few days later, the fun had worn off and she was back to worrying about the war.

She did at least pass all of her classes with top grades, which meant she got to keep her scholarship. Thank Merlin; she didn't think she would have been able to afford the tuition otherwise.

Christmas Eve itself was rather subdued and depressing. Katie was still in St. Mungo's with no change in her condition, and the Bells were having a terrible holiday for it. Alicia and Angelina made sure to stop by on Christmas Eve to visit with them, and they were not remotely surprised to find Oliver hovering behind Katie's father, who was sitting at his daughter's side, holding her hand. Mrs. Bell got up from Katie's other side to hug Alicia and Angelina, and she thanked Alicia for checking on Katie every day.

"I know it must be hard on you too," she said sympathetically. "What with studying and your classes and tests and everything, and still making time to come visit her."

"Of course I make time to come visit her," Alicia said softly.

Angelina echoed, "She's our best friend. It doesn't feel right without Katie."

"And Oliver, too." Mrs. Bell smiled at Oliver. "You're all so kind."

Ollie flushed a dull pink. "It's no trouble. Just want to make sure she wakes up, is all."

"We appreciate it, but you three also have your own families," Mr. Bell said softly, giving them all a commiserating smile. "I'm sure all your parents will want to see you tonight."

"Aye." Oliver nodded. "I should be heading home." His gaze flickered to Katie's quiet face before he awkwardly offered his hand to Mr. Bell.

Mrs. Bell looked at Angelina. "What is your family doing tonight, Angelina?"

She shrugged. "No idea, actually. They're in Jamaica right now. I decided not to visit this year. I'm spending tonight and tomorrow with Alicia's family. I have to be back at Holyhead on the 27th, and it was just too tight to try and portkey to the Caribbean and back."

Alicia hugged Katie's mother. "We'll stop by the day after Christmas," she promised.

"Thank you, dear. If she wakes up, I'll let you girls know, somehow."

Alicia, Angelina, and Oliver left together. As they stepped out into the cold air in front of Purge & Dowse, Ltd., they pulled their coats tighter and glanced warily up and down the empty street to make sure they were alone. Seeing no one, Oliver sighed and rolled his neck. Alicia wondered how long he had been upstairs. Probably hours, she thought.

Quietly, he asked, "You two heading for your parents'?"

Alicia nodded. "Just for tonight and tomorrow."

"Want me to see you there?"

"No, we can manage," Angelina said. "Let us know if you need us though. Merry Christmas."

Oliver shrugged. "Cheers," he said gloomily. "Merry Christmas, I guess. Doesn't feel like it, though."

"No, it doesn't," Alicia murmured. She gave him a brief hug before stepping back and taking Angelina's hand. "See you in a couple of days, Ollie."

With that, Alicia Disapparated, and in seconds, she and Angelina were standing in her parents' small back garden outside of London. The cold air was biting her ears and seeping through her boots and coat, intensifying her sadness and exhaustion. It would be nice to sleep late the next morning, but that was about all she could say for this holiday.

When Alicia awoke on Christmas, she could smell bacon sandwiches and scrambled eggs, and she had to admit the smell was what dragged her out of her old childhood bedroom and downstairs. She and Angelina rarely cooked; they were both too busy and it was easier to order take-out or just shove a piece of toast in their mouths on the way out the door. In an effort to save money, Alicia did at least make her lunch each day before she went to classes, but it was usually just a sandwich, a bag of crisps, and some fruit. It would be nice to eat home-cooked food for a change. If she was being honest, the food was one of the biggest things she missed about Hogwarts.

When she got into the kitchen, it was to find her father cooking as usual; he did all the chores around the house.

"That smells scrummy, Dad." She leaned over his shoulder to nick a piece of bacon.

He chuckled. "Sit down; I'll get you a plate, Ali."

He'd been calling her that since before she could remember, and it drove mum absolutely 'round the twist. But no matter how many times her mother snapped, "Her name is Alicia," her father still called her Ali.

Leslie Spinnet turned around a moment later and floated a plate to her, before grabbing his coffee and joining her. "You looked tired last night. Did you get enough sleep?"

Alicia began to eat. "Yes. It felt good to sleep and not have to wake up early for a change."

"Ang still asleep?"

She nodded. "She's been putting in a lot of hard practice for the Harpies. I didn't want to wake her."

"How is the Healer program?"

"Hard. But I knew it would be."

He smiled, his eyes crinkling. "Well, I'm damned proud of you, Ali, going through it. Don't give up."

She smiled back. "I won't."

"Get your grades yet?" he asked.

She nodded again, digging into the bacon sandwich. "Just three days ago. Passed everything with high marks."

"Knew you would."

They fell silent for a moment as Alicia continued to eat, but after she took another sip of juice, she asked, "So, what's on the docket for today?" Her mother was the sort who liked to keep a schedule despite working from home, which was a bit at odds with her father, who did things more spontaneously. In many ways, they were total opposites, but they made it work, somehow.

"Nothing much." He shrugged. "Open gifts, eat Christmas dinner. I expect you girls will want to get back to your flat before nightfall, so we'll wrap things up by four."

Alicia nodded again. They were a small family — just her, her parents, and her mother's mum, Doreen. All of her other grandparents had passed away years ago and her mother was an only child. Alicia's father was muggle-born and he had one brother, but her Uncle Dale hadn't received the magical gene. To ensure his wife and children didn't catch wind of the magical world, Dale and Leslie did not spend Christmases together, but Alicia had to admit it would have been nice to have more than just four people in the house on Christmas Day (well, five this year, since Angelina was with them). She didn't even know her cousins, having only met them a couple of times over the past eighteen years.

"Hey, Dad?"

"Mm?" He tapped his coffee mug with his wand to refill it.

"Why didn't you ever get a job in the magical world?"

He chuckled. "Why would I want to work for the Ministry of Magic when I can stay home and do whatever I want? Your mother makes enough for us to get by; it's not as if I need a job," he said comfortably. "What, embarrassed of your old man?"

Alicia rolled her eyes. "No! I was just curious. There are other jobs besides at the Ministry of Magic. I just wondered."

"Well, I don't really like working for anyone but myself. And your mother, of course. That's different." He smiled. "Don't get me wrong, honey. I love the magical world. But your mother and I, we're happy as we are."

Alicia bit her tongue. In truth, neither of her parents had much contact with the magical world anymore. Her father had always been a stay-at-home dad, but years ago, when Alicia had been born, her mother had worked at a magical law firm as a secretary. It had been during the height of the first war, and the job had allowed Patty to fly under the radar while keeping up with the war news. Their small family lived with Doreen back then; Patricia's job didn't make enough for them to have their own home and they had decided it was best if Leslie didn't get a wizarding job considering his blood status.

After the war, her mother had quit the job and gone to a muggle school to become an interior designer, against Doreen's wishes. In her second career, Patty rarely dealt with anyone magical, because anyone with a wand could change wallpaper and paint colors, transfigure an armchair into a dining chair if needed, or rearrange a room by waving their wand. There were some wealthy witches and wizards who paid for that sort of thing just to show off, but Patricia Spinnet had always said she would just rather work with muggles. Her design business was thriving by the time Alicia was seven or so, because Patty could surreptitiously do things with her wand while her clients weren't looking, and of course her clients thought she was brilliant because she did the job so much faster and better compared to actual muggle interior designers. The trickiest part was not breaking the Statute of Secrecy, but her mother had always been good at that. Their family had moved out from Doreen's house into their own small home around that time, though Doreen was a frequent visitor.

What confused Alicia the most was that, these days, her parents were more isolated from the magical world than ever. In the past, they hadn't always been quite as cut off as they currently were. It had been a gradual shift over the last two or three years, particularly since Voldemort had returned. Alicia couldn't imagine cutting ties to the magical world at any point in life, even with Voldemort back, and she had never thought her parents would go quite that far. She clearly remembered between her first and fifth years at Hogwarts, her dad had loved to take her to Diagon Alley during the summer. He would point out all of the window displays and they would look at broomsticks in Quality Quidditch Supplies, get ice cream sundaes at Fortescue's, and fish-n-chip's in the Leaky. But nowadays, he never went, not even for supplies. Maybe that was for the best, she thought. Diagon Alley was pretty bleak these days.

Alicia knew her grandmother felt much the same as she did. She didn't see Dory often enough these days, but they regularly exchanged letters, and it had been about two years ago that Doreen had started making comments about how she didn't understand Patty and Leslie's desire to be more removed from the magical world. It was right after the Triwizard Tournament. Alicia had privately agreed with her grandmother, and Dory insisted that Alicia was welcome to come stay at her house if she wished during the summer holidays, so she wouldn't be so cut-off from their true world. Alicia had taken her up on it during the summer between her sixth and seventh-years, because by that point, her parents were driving her spare in their determination to ignore the war in the magical world and pretend everything was fine. Alicia hadn't told them exactly why she wanted to spend the summer with Dory; she'd merely said Dory had invited her to stay. Her parents had just smiled and told her to have a good time with her grandmother. So she had.

Unfortunately, it wasn't as if either Alicia or Doreen could change Patty and Leslie's recent mindset. Alicia didn't even know why she bothered to try anymore. They just ignored her or waved her concerns aside. She wanted to understand better, but she couldn't. It just didn't make sense to her.

Her father continued to sip his coffee. "We both know you love the magical world, and you're eighteen, so you can do what you want. We love magic too, Ali, but we also love the peace we have from not being connected to it constantly. I mean, really. All the stuff about the war and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named… we don't miss hearing that load of tosh day in and day out. It's just the Ministry of Magic and the Prophet whipping people up into a panic, and your mother and I are better off without it."

Alicia grit her teeth. She wanted to shake him and tell him that tosh would find them all one way or another, whether they cut themselves off from magic or not, because Voldemort was back — damn it, one of her best friends was lying unconscious in St. Mungo's right now because of dark magic likely associated with that horrible man! — but Angelina walked in at that moment and Leslie grinned at her, rose from his seat, and offered to cook her breakfast, too.

Alicia decided to drop the subject for a bit. It wasn't like she was going to win this battle today, that was for sure.

When her grandmother arrived, Alicia was quite glad to see her and stepped out into the garden to welcome her.

"Please tell me your father isn't cooking dinner without magic, Cinnamon," Dory sniffed, as she drew her tweed cloak around her more tightly.

Alicia smiled at the use of her grandmother's pet name for her. Dory had once told her, when Alicia had been a child, that it was a term of endearment that went back to the Middle Ages, because cinnamon was a highly prized spice and therefore used to denote someone of special importance. And, Dory said, Alicia's hair was only a shade off from the actual spice. Alicia liked the nickname a lot better than Ali. Only her grandmother called her Cinnamon. No one outside her family even knew of this pet name, not even Angelina and Katie.

"No, thank Merlin. But he's already told me he thinks You-Know-Who returning is a load of tosh. Nearly pulled my hair out when he said it, Dory."

Her grandmother rolled her eyes. "He and your mother are both taking this whole thing far too lightly. I know it's why they've been living so isolated the past couple of years. Absolutely ridiculous, if you ask me. They flew under the radar back during the first war, and they think they can do it again. I don't know, though." She looped her arm into Alicia's. "How is your friend? The one at St. Mungo's?"

Alicia's face fell. "Still unconscious."

"Terrible business." Her grandmother shook her head as they walked up the steps to the back door. "Hate it for her family. They're muggles, aren't they?"

"Yes, and it's quite hard for them. They don't understand our world very well and they're scared."

"Aren't we all," her grandmother said dryly. "Well, all except your parents, apparently."

Once inside the kitchen, Alicia nodded towards Angelina, who had spent the morning chatting about Quidditch with her father. Listening to games on the wireless was about as connected as he wanted to be to the magical world, so it was generally considered a safe topic of discussion.

"Dory," she said, "you remember Angie?"

"Ah yes, Captain of the Gryffindor team last year, signed onto the Harpies this summer, didn't you?"

"Hullo, Mrs. Sharpe." Angelina grinned. She had only met Dory once, last summer in Diagon Alley, but they had gotten along smashingly. "It's nice to see you again."

"You too, dear. How is training?"

"Brutal, but I love it. Did you play when you were in school?"

"Me? Merlin, no," Dory admitted. "Never was a great shake with brooms. Not sure where Alicia gets it, if I'm honest. I much prefer Apparating."

Alicia's mother entered the kitchen at that point. "Ah, Mum, you made it safely." She kissed her mother's cheek.

"Of course I did, it's just a matter of Apparating," Dory scoffed. "How is work?"

"Going very well, thank you. Come into the sitting room and get warm. You girls come join us, leave your father to the cooking," she added, motioning for Alicia and Angelina to join her.

The sitting room was decorated with a small tree and garland over the mantel, and Alicia and Angelina sat on the couch while her mother and grandmother took the armchairs.

"So then," Dory said, unwinding her scarf. "How is the Healer program, dear?"

Alicia smiled. "Passed all my classes this semester, thank Merlin."

"I knew you would. Who else from your year went into the program?"

"Chrysanthe Hayden, from Hufflepuff; Courtney Vanhausen, from Slytherin; and Ellen Redgrave, from Ravenclaw. But I have a feeling Ellen didn't make it past the first semester. She was having trouble."

"Well, being a Healer is a serious business. Good thing they weed out those who can't cut it. Wouldn't want some mediocre Healer treating me, that's for sure."

"We're quite proud of Alicia," Patricia said. Yet, despite this statement, her smile flickered a bit and, as though she couldn't help it, she added, "But still. It's such a difficult career choice. I do worry about you, dear. The strain of the program, and —"

"Don't go trying to talk your daughter out of her dream," Dory snapped baldly. "It's far better than designing rooms for muggles. At least she's trying to help others."

Alicia winced and felt Angelina shift uncomfortably beside her. Her mother's career had always been a point of contention, going back much further than three years: her grandmother had never understood why her daughter had no desire to work in the magical world.

But Patricia Spinnet was unfazed by her mother's abrasiveness; she'd heard the argument too many times to count and was good at blocking her mother's criticism. Placidly, she said, "I do well enough, and we aren't hurting, Mum."

Doreen snorted. "Surprised you haven't broken the Statute of Secrecy yet."

"That's why I took Muggle Studies." Patricia smiled.

Her grandmother didn't respond to that, thank goodness. Alicia knew Dory thought Muggle Studies was a pointless, soft option. This was another thing they agreed on, actually. Muggle Studies was the study of muggles as seen by wizards, and it was invariably flawed because no one wanted to overhaul the curriculum. She hadn't taken the class herself, but Lee Jordan had, and Alicia had been rather annoyed when she skimmed through his textbook one day in third year out of morbid curiosity. It turned out to be rubbish, mostly.

Trying to change the subject, her mother turned to her and asked, "How is Katie doing, Alicia?"

"About the same," Angelina answered quietly. "Still unconscious."

"I'm sorry, dears. I hope she'll wake up. Maybe she'll remember what happened to her."

"Imperiused people usually don't," Dory said darkly. "It'll be a miracle if she wakes up at all, and if she does, best be happy about it."

Alicia clenched her fists. She kept telling herself that. It was more a matter of making herself believe that. But God, she hoped Katie woke up. She didn't want to think about it if Katie didn't wake up. Not just for herself and Angelina, but for Oliver. If Katie never woke up, Ollie would be crushed.

"You girls should take some leftovers to the hospital for her parents," her mother said, trying to brighten the conversation. "I'm sure they'd appreciate something other than the food at St. Mungo's."

"That's a good idea," Angelina agreed. "They probably would."

"Leslie's probably cooked far more than we need, anyways."

Alicia managed a forced smile. "Probably."

At that moment, her father came in from the kitchen to announce that dinner was ready, and as Alicia's mother and grandmother left the room, Alicia squeezed Angelina's hand.

"Might've been better if you'd gone to Red's Wood for the day." She grimaced. "Instead of here with this fun lot. I'm really sorry about the arguing."

Angelina rolled her eyes. "What, and left you alone? I really would be an awful friend. Besides, you know what would happen if I ended up at Red's Wood today. We'd be playing Quidditch until after dark, and I need a break from Quidditch right now. Oliver would never understand, though."

Alicia giggled. "No. He wouldn't. Well, come on." She straightened her back and looped her arm into Angelina's with a resigned expression. "Back into the fire then, I suppose. Maybe Dory won't annoy Mum too much through dinner."

Though, privately, she had a feeling that would not be the case.

To say Alicia was grateful when 4:00 rolled around was an understatement. Alicia loved her parents, she truly did, but their calm indifference to the war, their determination to believe the Ministry and Daily Prophet were blowing things out of proportion, and her mother's worry that the Healer program was too much stress — it was all wearing on her nerves by the time they finished opening gifts. She could tell it was annoying her grandmother and Angie, too. She didn't know how to make her parents understand that the war was real, that Voldemort was back… that Katie's curse wasn't just some freak accident, but an insidious plot by the Dark Lord to hurt someone…! True, she didn't have proof of that, but all of the Gryffindors in their year had agreed that Katie's situation had to be somehow related to the war and the Dark Lord. Mysterious disappearances, deaths, and strange occurrences had become far more common, and it was scary. But her parents just didn't want to believe that, and Alicia was ready to pull her hair out.

As darkness fell, she and Angelina hugged her parents and grandmother goodbye. Mum had put Alicia and Angelina's gifts in bags so they would be easier to carry, and her father made sure they had extra plates of food for the Bells. Doreen left at the same time they did.

As her parents waved from the back stoop, Doreen leaned close to Alicia. "Don't forget, Cinnamon, you can always come to my place if you need to. I know damned well this war is real, and if you need a safe place, you reach out to me. I worry about you girls living so close to Diagon Alley."

"Thank you, Dory." Alicia kissed her cheek.

"Write when you can." At that, Doreen turned to Angelina. "Angelina, dear, it was lovely to see you again. You're always welcome to visit me, too. Best of luck with training — fingers crossed you'll be starting next year."

"Maybe." Angelina gave her a small smile. "We'll see. Thank you, Dory."

As Doreen Disapparated, Alicia and Angelina grasped hands and left as well, reappearing in front of St. Mungo's. The street was empty, dark, lonely, and cold. Alicia shivered as she leaned close to the window, her breath frosting against the old department store's plate glass.

"Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson, here to see Katie Bell."

The dummy crooked its finger, and they walked through the glass together.

Upstairs, they found the Bells sitting quietly by Katie's bed with a miniature Christmas tree on the bedside table. Fred and George must have been by at some point, because a paper chain of lurid red and green hung on the wall over the bed. It was bewitched to softly twinkle, and Alicia had to admit she was extremely glad they hadn't charmed it to flash, pop, and whistle. She had enough of a headache from being around her parents all day.

Mrs. Bell looked startled when Angelina and Alicia walked in. "Oh, goodness, girls! What on earth are you doing here today? We didn't expect you until tomorrow!"

Alicia smiled. "We just left my parents' place. My dad sent along some plates for you both. He and Mum thought it might be nice for you to have a home-cooked meal instead of whatever St. Mungo's is serving. It's just leftovers, but…"

Mrs. Bell swallowed and raised a hand to her mouth, and Alicia realized a second too late she was going to cry. Mr. Bell rose quickly and hugged his wife.

"There, now, dear. Come, sit back down." He turned to Alicia and gave her a sad smile. "That was very kind of you all. We appreciate it very much. You didn't have to come all the way up here for that."

"What kind of friends would we be?" Angelina asked hollowly. "It's the least we can do."

"Yeah." Alicia blushed. "It's just turkey, roast potatoes, parsnips, spiced carrots, and sprouts. And some Christmas pudding. Nothing too fancy."

"It's perfect," Mrs. Bell insisted, wiping her eyes with a tissue as her husband relieved Alicia of the bags of food. "Thank you for remembering us."

"Well…" Angelina shifted awkwardly. "We'll be going. Let us know if you need us."

They waved goodbye and hurried out, leaving the Bells alone with their daughter. As they walked back downstairs, neither said a word to each other, they merely kept their arms looped together and leaned against each other's shoulders. It didn't feel like Christmas at all, really. It felt all wrong this year. Katie shouldn't be unconscious, but she was. There shouldn't be a war, but there was. Alicia's parents shouldn't be ignoring those things, but they were. All in all, it was probably the worst Christmas she'd ever had.

As they stepped back out onto the pavement and the cold, wintry air abruptly hit their faces, both of them paused and looked up and down the deserted street. Alicia was just about to Apparate them again when Angelina said softly, "Here's a question. What was your favorite Christmas ever?"

Alicia looked up at her, curious.

Angelina tilted her head back to look at the dark, cloudy sky. "Mine was when I was six. I got my first real broomstick. Merlin, I wanted one so bad. Haven't been able to stay off of them since. That's what I was thinking about, upstairs, when Mrs. Bell started to cry. Flying with you and Katie around the pitch." She sniffed, smiled sadly at Alicia, and nudged her. "Now yours. It's been a rotten holiday, so we should each remember something nice before it's over, yeah?"

Alicia thought back over all of the Christmas memories she could recall: getting her first broomstick, playing in the snow, decorating the tree with her parents, making cookies with her father, shopping for gifts in Diagon Alley as a teen, wrapping presents with Dory, meeting her two best friends on Boxing Day to catch up before school started back in January.

Maybe it was thinking of Boxing Day that triggered the memory, or maybe it was the few random snow flurries that had started to drift down in the dark around them on the quiet, empty street. Alicia wasn't really sure. Regardless, the memory that suddenly surfaced wasn't one she had expected: a conversation in the snow while wearing dress robes that weren't her own. They'd deliciously smelt both like a forest and masculine sweat from dancing. A forehead pressed to hers, hazel-green eyes holding her own. Teasing banter, a wine-red velvet gown that fit like a glove. Boxing Day before a cozy fire in a small, hidden room near the Hogwarts' kitchens, her day-old curls starting to fall, while having tea and conversation with a fit, sweet Slytherin lad who fancied her.

Alicia suddenly felt tears burning in her eyes and she swallowed in surprise. Why on earth had she thought of that as her favorite Christmas memory?

"Alicia?" Angelina sounded worried.

She quickly shook her head. "I'm sorry… I'm being stupid. Never mind."

"Fair is fair." Angelina gently squeezed her hand. "Tell me."

Alicia took a deep breath. "Let's Apparate back, first."

Ten seconds later, they were back in their flat. Alicia sealed the door with the usual protective charms before turning to face Angelina again; her friend had placed their gifts from Alicia's parents and grandmother on the table and was waiting quietly for Alicia to continue.

Swallowing, Alicia whispered, "Christmas 1994."

Angelina's eyebrows puckered slightly. "That was the Yule Ball."

Alicia nodded. "It was the snowflakes that made me think of it," she admitted. "I never told you, but… that night, after I stormed outside to get away from Lee and George for a bit… I ran into Adrian again. We chatted for a few minutes out in the snow where no one could see or hear us. It was just a conversation, nothing else, but…" She slowly pulled her cloak off, and a feeling of intense guilt stirred in her chest.

"On a first name basis, are we?" Angelina teased softly, leaning against the table.

Trying to sound cheeky (and probably failing), Alicia said, "That started back in June, I suppose. Ever since I was snogging his brains out in the Room of Requirement every chance I got. Figured I should probably use his given name if I was doing that, right?"

Angelina managed a small grin. "Probably. So, why is that your favorite memory?"

At that, the guilt spiked sharply and a couple of tears slipped down Alicia's face. "I don't know," she whispered, sniffing again and wiping her palm against her cheek. "Oh, God, Ang, I'm such a terrible daughter! You asked what my favorite Christmas memory was, and out of all the wonderful Christmases I've had with my family, out of all the wonderful things I remember with my parents, the memory I chose wasn't one of them, but of a boy. God, I'm really the worst —!"

Angelina jerked forward and quickly wrapped her in a hug. "No, you aren't," she said quietly, but firmly, giving her a small shake. "Alicia. Listen to me. You had a hard day. Your parents are burying their heads in the sand about You-Know-Who and the war, and it's eating away at you. I spent hours watching you bite your tongue and clench your fists and try not to scream the truth at them. Dory, too. You desperately want them to understand how dangerous it is, and they want to remain ignorant. You spent the entire day in that mindset and that wouldn't be easy on anyone! You're angry at them because you love them, and it's justified. You are not a bad daughter because your favorite Christmas memory is of a damned fit bloke who made you feel special. Hell, it would be my favorite memory, too!"

Alicia suddenly began to cry in earnest, and Angelina hugged her tighter. Against her friend's cold jumper, Alicia finally stammered, "I miss him, Angie. I miss him —"

"I know, 'Licia," Angelina said sadly. "I know. It's okay."

"I'm such an idiot! I said I wouldn't be the girl who cried," she half-laughed. "Merlin, I feel so stupid! This isn't me!"

"You aren't stupid and you aren't an idiot. We all cry over guys. Even me. And this has definitely been one of the worst Christmases ever. I'm pretty sure you get a pass tonight."

Alicia wiped her face again. "God, I hope next year will be better." She straightened her back, took a deep breath, sniffed again, and met Angelina's eyes. "There. No more tears over Pucey tonight, I promise. Maybe we should make some hot chocolate. Professor Lupin always said it helped with Dementors. Maybe it will help with feeling down, too."

Angelina grinned. "That's the best idea you've had all day. And I want to hear about this conversation you had with him in the snow."

"No, I won't tell you. But he did take off his dress robes and let me wear them so I wouldn't get too cold."

"Fucking lucky!" Angelina gaped. "Merlin, Alicia! Did he really?"

They both laughed, and five minutes later — sitting on the couch in the sitting room with a fire and their little tree glowing and two mugs of hot chocolate — Alicia and Angelina leaned against each other in comfortable silence.

Maybe next Christmas would be better, Alicia thought again, feeling the warmth spread to her fingers and toes. One could hope.

Author's Notes:

1. If I thought creating Adrian's parents was hard, creating Alicia's family was even more difficult...

2. Red's Wood is Mandy's creation for Oliver's family's home, and she was gracious to let me use it in this story.