A.N.: So I started my junior year, and I'm squeezing this in before my schedule begins to really fill up. I want to remind all of you that just because I go a week or two without updating doesn't mean I'm abandoning this story, or any stories. I just get writer's block sometimes, and other times I literally have NO TIME. I'm taking two AP courses, along with my ballet schedule and working and high school… so I have some stuff going on. Rest assured, I will do my best to write when I can. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: Still in high school= definitely not J.K. Rowling
Nineteen: God Bless Ye Merry Weasleys
Night had fallen over the Burrow, but the occupants of the house had no intention of sleeping just yet. The sky outside was velvet and dark, with snow drifting down in slow, lazy circles; frost coating the glassy windowpanes. The enormous Christmas tree stood in the corner of the room by the window, decked in holly and fairy lights that twinkled. As per usual, an extremely disgruntled looking gnome was perched, stuffed into a ballerina costume, at the top of the evergreen, a golden halo around its head. Presents were stacked heavily beneath its branches, to be magically delivered in the night.
Standing outside on the icy stoop, Dom felt worlds away from it all. Her numb fingers clutched a cigarette, and the smoke scorched her lungs as she inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. To be anywhere but here would be a blessing. Fuck, to be dead would be a blessing. Anything but this emptiness inside of her; the utter lack of anything.
Of course, standing out here smoking was preferred to curling up on the couch inside, laughing and smiling and pretending to care about Victoire's big ring, and the wedding, and fucking Christmas.
Normally, when she felt such abandon, she wanted to get lost in someone else. Not anymore. She winced at the very thought of being touched again, and shied away from the arms of her family.
No. This bitter cold, the burning of a cigarette against her lips, and the dark, snowy world around her was infinitely better. She pulled her knees up to her chest as she crouched against the side of the house, wrapping one arm around them, the other bringing the cig to her mouth for another drag.
Maybe she wasn't really dead. But on the inside, it sure as hell felt like it.
The morning of the twenty fifth of December began quite loudly for James Potter.
As tradition, everyone had slept over at the Burrow, the girls cramming into what had once been Ginny's room, but had been put under various charms in order to accommodate the growing Potter-Weasley clans needs. The boys, as always, lodged themselves in Ron's old top floor room, the walls still a lurid orange, despite Fred and James's protests against the Chudley Cannons.
And, as tradition, the girls invaded the boys room in the morning, led by a bright eyed, holiday spirited Lily.
"Wake up!" she squealed excitedly, whacking him in the head with a pillow to jerk him from his slumber. James groaned in response, holding his hands over his eyes. To think, he went from waking up with Anna Wood in his arms, to being physically mauled by his fourth year sister.
"Go away, Lils," he muttered.
"It's Christmas Day, you arse, I'm not going anywhere." James cracked an eyelid open to see her defiant stance, arms crossed, chin set, her Potter green eyes flashing.
"Besides, she's got back-up, cuz." Lucy promptly splayed out across him, not bothering to take care not to crush him. Not that she really could've, being a thin, lanky model.
"Alright, I get it, Godric," James finally gave in, opening his eyes fully. Nearby, Roxanne had taken care to bombard Fred, swatting him repeatedly with his pillow after stealing his covers. Rose and Bekah had long since succeeded with Hugo and Louis, and Dom was mysteriously absent.
"You're going to come after me unless I get up?" Al asked blearily from the bed on James's left, his voice muffled by his pillow.
Lily snorted and rolled her eyes. "You'd think, being almost sixteen, you would've learned not to ask dumb questions."
James and Lucy laughed as Al dragged himself out of bed. In seconds, it seemed, everyone that had been asleep five minutes prior was wide-awake. The fact that it was indeed Christmas had sunk in, and together, they rushed downstairs, their footsteps thudding throughout the house.
The living room was bathed in pale morning light, the Christmas tree still lit from the night before. Parcels of all sorts were mounted beneath it, and the stockings that had been empty hours previously were now bulging with sweets and gifts. James tore open a box of caramels, not hesitating to pop one in his mouth before searching the other contents of the stocking.
It made up for an impressive pile of candy, consisting of his known favorites. "Caramel?" he asked Dom as she slumped into the couch beside him, stocking in her hand.
"Thanks Jamie, but I'll pass," she told him, giving him a small smile. "Happy Christmas."
"You too, Dommie," he replied, pulling her in for hug. Her skin was cold, her muscles tense under his arms. She smelled strongly of cigarettes; she'd evidently passed up waking up Louis for a smoke. There was something off about her, James decided as he pulled away. If you hadn't grown up side by side, he supposed, you could miss it. Pass it off for typical Dominique Weasley angst.
"Hey, just because I'm engaged doesn't mean I'm too old for this, you know," Victoire announced from the stairwell before sauntering over to pluck her stocking off the railing. She was wearing silky blue pajama pants and a cotton St. Mungo's tee shirt, her silver blond hair loose. Behind her, Teddy Lupin stood, grinning from ear to ear; his turquoise hair vibrant and messy.
Together, he and Victoire rummaged through their stockings, feeding each other Honeydukes Special Dark (Teddy's favorite). It was overwhelmingly affectionate, and although it made the others slightly uncomfortable, it was to be expected. Once upon a time, James might've even found it sickening. But now, he could sort of understand that feeling; of being so dopey and sick with love that you just couldn't help but have your brain turn to mush.
It was pathetic, really, he thought to himself, not managing to suppress a grin. Womanizer extraordinare James Sirius Potter wanted to date a girl. Not date as in take her out to the Three Broomsticks and then shag her later, but date as in buy her gifts and hold her hand and kiss her and only her.
"Good haul, mate," Fred told him, munching on a box of Bertie Botts. "I can't believe this is our last Christmas before we leave Hogwarts."
"Yeah," James shook his head. "It's wild. Can't believe it."
"Blimey, pretty soon we'll have jobs. What the fuck?" The two laughed at this, Dom joining in half-heartedly.
"Let's move in together, after school," James suggested. "The three of us, and maybe the Scamanders."
"Merlin, Jamie, let's not make such serious plans. Who knows where we'll end up?" Dom scoffed. Before James could make a humorous retort, the adults trickled in, each of them still in their pajamas, smiling.
"I'll put on some tea," Aunt Hermione said. "Then we can open presents."
Hugo sighed. "Mum, it's eight in the morning, no one is going to drink tea right now."
Ginny laughed. "You're just impatient."
Hugo shrugged nonchalantly as the rest of the family laughed. Everyone made themselves comfortable, sitting sporadically around the room. It took five minutes, but Hermione soon had everyone situated with a steaming mug of Christmas tea.
"Oh, have at it, why don't you?" Grandad Weasley declared cheerfully. "Merry Christmas!" The aging wizard flicked his wand and the presents and parcels flew through the air, depositing them in front of each receiver. The sound of rustling paper and boxes being torn open filled the room, followed by exclamations of excitement. James was thrilled to open a new broom polishing kit and compass from his parents, a box of new Weasley Wizard Wheezes merchandise from Uncle George and Aunt Angelina, a pair of smart looking, simple black dress robes from Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron, a subscription to Quidditched magazine from Uncle Bill and Fleur. Uncle Percy and Aunt Audrey had gifted him with a new set of quills and parchment ("They'll come in handy for job applications," Uncle Percy assured him), and a package from Uncle Charlie revealed a black dragon skin jacket that James loved instantly. Of course, each cousin received the traditional Weasley jumper from the Weasley grandparents. The boatloads of sweets and mince pies would come later, James knew.
When the family had finished exchanging gifts as well as thank yous and various embraces, Grandmother Weasley clapped her hands together. "I'd best get to cooking then!" she beamed, and several of the parents trailed after her. Those who remained were the ones who didn't belong in the kitchen under any circumstances; Uncle George and Grandad Weasley.
"We'd best get dressed," Rose decided, standing up.
Victoire waved her wand, gathering all the rubbish into a pile and promptly Vanishing it. "Clean-up made easy." Teddy threw his arm around her shoulders and drew her close to him.
"What do you say?" the elder boy asked. "Quidditch?"
Rose rolled her eyes and sighed, but she was the only one.
"Quidditch," James agreed, a grin splitting across his face.
"So how's your first English Christmas?" Al asked, swishing his butterbeer around in his mug. He had slid into the seat next to Bekah at the table, while she picked away at her goose and stuffing. The large Christmas luncheon was coming to an end, the members of the table having gotten up and trickled off, opting to return to the living room, or play outside in the snow. Grandmum Weasley could be heard humming to Celestina Warbeck's Christmas Special in the room over.
The girl offered him a small smile. "Going well, thanks." She was wearing a Weasley Christmas sweater, something that Al's grandmother had knitted for her when she'd learned that Rose had an American friend coming. It was the British flag, thick and warm looking, baggy over her slight frame. Worn out black jeans were slung on her hip, their appearance making them seem soft to the touch.
"Is it really that different from America?" he inquired curiously.
She shrugged, abandoning her fork and knife. "I don't think its that different from most families Christmases. I mean, of course there's something very Brit about it, especially the mince pies and the Happy Christmas, instead of Merry Christmas, but its different from what I'm used to besides all that."
"Better, I hope?" There was something distinctly cautious and prickly in Bekah's tone, and Al was afraid she would accuse him of prying and shrink back into her own world inside her head. A world where no one could reach her.
At that, her pink lips twitched, and she tucked a strand of bronze hair back behind her ear. "Better," she confirmed. "It's like I've never had Christmas before."
In the background, the radio finally ended its broadcast of old-school Celestina Warbeck, whom Grandmum Weasley adored, and voices began to sing God Bless Ye Merry Hippogriffs.
"God bless ye merry hippogriffs, let nothing you dismay," he sang, grinning at her and standing up. "Recall Merlin our savior, was born upon this day... c'mon, sing it with me!"
Bekah laughed, and shook her head. "No. Al I'm a horrible singer."
"O tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy," Al continued, failing to keep a straight face. "Oh, bloody hell, Becks, and I'm a good singer?"
She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a firm look; or what she clearly intended to be firm. Instead, it came off as a tight, pursed expression before she gave into more laughter.
Al spun around, dancing teasingly. "Caroling is an integral part of a British Christmas, Miss Grant," he informed her seriously. "In the land of Camelot, this blessed babe was born… If you won't sing with me, at least dance with me." He held out his hand expectantly, his heart stammering in his chest as she stared down at his outstretched palm, contemplating the offer. The seconds seemed to stretch out; growing longer and Al prepared to withdraw his hand and shake it off—until she clasped his hand and stood, a small smile on her face.
"This isn't really a dancing song," she told him.
"Relax. Just enjoy it," he silenced her, wrapping one arm around her waist. "How that in Camelot was born, the greatest wizard of the day," he continued, spinning her and dipping her gently. Her long hair tickled the floor and she threw back her head and laughed again.
"O tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy," he sang, on desperately trying to ignore the heat of her hands on his hands where their skin touched, and the way she smelled like something heavenly; lavender and sugar cookies.
"O tidings of comfort and joy, comfort and joy." Her voice was soft, and he nearly stopped dancing out of surprise. She spun away from him, her hand still firmly in his, before twirling back. His arms were around her for a moment, before she turned and placed her hand on his shoulder again, reverting back to their original position.
"I told you I wasn't a good singer," she reminded him.
"I don't care," he told her breathlessly. The song was ending, and they were still dancing, In another life, if he wasn't so scared to fuck this up, he would lean forward and draw her even closer, and kiss her like he was dying to kiss her. Like he'd wanted to kiss her since the day she introduced herself in the library and he first heard her American accent. In another life, he would be certain that she would kiss him back like any other girl he'd kissed, and she'd draw back and smile or laugh and they would keep dancing to the radio.
But this was not that life. And so Al simply looked at her, looking back at him, their faces mere inches apart. Her eyes had never seemed so impossibly endless to him. And he forced himself to let the moment slip past.
"I promised," he told her in a low voice, stepping back. "Merry Christmas, Becks."
A.N.: So this was a long time coming. I'm really, really busy now, and I'm sorry for that. I know this was sort of fluffy, but the next chapter will feature Scorpius and the Scamander twins at the Burrow for the post holiday fun, so it will have more depth to it. Anyway, thank you so much for reading, especially if you're reading this after waiting months for an update! Please review! Love you all!
-xoxo NotsoSugarQueen