Tapestry

Chapter 4

When James woke on Christmas morning he was met by a childish tingle as he looked through his bedroom window and realised it was snowing. The picture card scene of the sloping lawns covered by a thick white carpet sent a pleasant chill sweeping through him, appealing to his burgeoning romantic side which was just now rearing its head.

James had experienced a White Christmas once before, when he stayed at Hogwarts during his second year. Mum and Dad had taken a joint second honeymoon with Uncle Bill and Auntie Fleur; 12-year old James didn't go because he had fancied his Aunt something chronic and couldn't speak around her, so all the children were placed elsewhere and the four adults went off to Egypt for Christmas. This, however, would be the first White Christmas spent with his family and the happy feelings which came with this put James in an unexpectedly festive mood.

After opening all the little presents (an exploding snap set, a pack of Self-Correcting quills, a Chocolate Frog Card Holder and a mini-Quidditch game) and stockpiling an array of sweets and chocolates from the stocking at the end of his bed, James made his way downstairs. There were already two large piles of discarded, multi-coloured Christmas wrapping paper, one hiding Lily by the fire and the other serving as an impromptu mountain range which Albus was busy running the track around for his new model Hogwarts Express kit.

“Merry Christmas, Sweetheart,” said Mum, swooping up behind James and kissing him on the cheek.

“To you to, Mum,” said James.

“What's the matter? Are you ill? Do you have a temperature?” said Mum, in mock panic. “That's the first time you haven't reeled away from me when I've tried to give you a kiss since your first day at Hogwarts.”

“Well, it is Christmas,” said James, colouring. “Season of good will and that. Those presents mine?”

James nodded to a significant stack of unopened gifts next to the tree.

“No, we thought we'd give them to the homeless in town, seeing as it didn't look as if you were going to get up to open them,” said Dad coming in from the kitchen with a tea tray.

“Ha ha, Merry Christmas to you to,” said James before moving to his pile and taking the closest present. It was a huge tin of homemade chocolate fudge. “Result! Nana Weasley knows I love her choco-fudge. No, Mum, you can't have any.”

“Look at these, James. Aren't they pretty?” said Lily emerging from behind the wall of wrapping and holding up some very small garments.

“Very nice,” said James, unwrapping a Tornadoes calendar. “But aren't they a bit little for you?”

“They aren't for me, dopey, they're for my dolls. Look.”

James peered over the mound of wrapping paper to see several rather disgruntled dolls, whose eyes were moving and looking distinctly unimpressed at being haphazardly dressed in a variety of mismatched outfits.

“Oh, now I see,” said James placatingly.

It took around half an hour for James to reach the last item in his present stack, by which time Albus was merrily watching his toy Hogwarts Express shoot around his makeshift mountains, across the carpet and even over the mantelpiece around the fire. James was more than satisfied with this year's haul, which amongst other things included the signed Tornadoes robe he was hoping for (as well as a replica one to wear for Quidditch practice), a deluxe Wizard's Chess set and enough clothes to stock his wardrobe for the next twelve months. There was only one thing left; a square, heavy-looking thing with no tag on it.

“Who's this one from?” James asked, holding it up.

“I don't know,” said Mum. “It was delivered late yesterday with just your name on the Owl-Order form.”

James cautiously opened the pretty wrapping paper, half expecting it to be a crate of exploding dungbombs from Richard. His fears were eased as he felt the soft velvet covering of the case inside, but a worse feeling was to come as a little card slipped out through the tear in the paper. James picked it up and read the very fine handwriting.

Dear James,

I was in Diagon Alley, buying some last minute things for my trip, and I saw this and thought of you. I hope you don't mind that I got it for you, it just sort of spoke to me (that sounds like the kind of mad thing my Aunt would say!). With a bit of luck it'll spruce up that battered old Firebolt of yours and help us beat Slytherin next term. We all remember last year, don't we? Anyway, see you back at school.

Merry Christmas,

l from Celesca

James felt as though a lead weight had fallen into his stomach. Celesca had bought him a Christmas present? He hadn't got her a thing and felt awful because of it. He was about to fall into a state of melancholy when Mum called through the fog of guilt trying to settle on him.

“Well? What is it? Does the card say who it's from?”

“It's from Celesca,” said James dully. “I didn't know she was going to do this.”

“It's still a nice surprise,” said Dad. “Open it up.”

James pulled back the rest of the wrapping to reveal a handsome purple-velvet case. Gold and silver lettering on the top read Broomstick Servicing Kit: Professional Edition. James gasped as he opened the lid.

“Oh, Celesca!”

The words came out in little more than a whisper. Heart bounding, James scanned the contents; handle polish, tail-twig clippers, equipment to test hover, balance and torque, compass, saddle cover and even black leather gloves. It was probably the best gift he'd ever received and he felt a great rush of affection for it's sender that made him light-headed for a moment.

“Earth to James,” Dad called. “Come on, the suspense is killing me.”

“It's a Broomstick Servicing Kit,” said James, grinning madly. “Isn't it amazing!? Look at all this stuff! I didn't even know they made these.”

Dad's expression changed in a flash to something James couldn't quite put a meaning to, but it was gone just as swiftly as it arrived.

“I had one of those once,” Dad said, his voice somehow different. “I loved it.”

“Who gave you that?” Mum asked.

Dad's expression changed again. “Er - Ron, I think. It must have been.”

“Ron?” asked Mum. “Where would he have got the money for something like that? It looks expensive and you remember the days when we couldn't afford much.”

“It must have been him,” said Dad evasively. “Who else would have bought me something like that? It's not like I would have asked him how he got it - that would be rude.”

“Well I think it's lovely,” said Mum, turning back to James. “She must really like you, this Celesca.”

“No, she's just nice, that's all,” said James. “I should have gotten her something.”

“She probably wasn't expecting you to,” said Dad. “If she's anything like her Aunt I suspect a `thank you' will be all she needs.”

Far from making James feel better, Dad's words actually had the opposite effect. Had Celesca been expecting a present from James? He would certainly have got something for her had he thought their relationship had reached that stage. They had certainly grown closer over the last few weeks of term but had that been enough to take them to a present exchanging level? Or, as the card had said, was it simply an impulse buy? One thing that did cheer James up was the idea that, for whatever reason, something had made Celesca think of him while they were apart. He liked the idea that somewhere, deep in the Siberian wilderness, he might be on her mind.

It was past noon when Dad called James to help him load presents into the back of the car. Dad could easily have done it all by magic but felt that a little manual labour was good for his son. He said it was character building and good training for later life. There were gifts for all the Weasleys from all the Potters and a few for Teddy Lupin who was joining them for lunch. Albus had something of a tantrum when he was told he couldn't bring his train set or his model Azkaban (complete with roaming faux-Dementors). One blazing look from Mum was enough to quell him, though, and they were soon on the motorway on the way to Avalon Heights in Cornwall, where Mr and Mrs Ron Weasley lived.

Dad's magically modified, Ministry approved car did the trip in little over an hour. Big yellow boxes, which Muggles called Speed Cameras, spanned the motorways like a join-the-dots picture, but none of them flashed as Dad's car gunned past them. James and Lily played a game of `Spot the Red Car' as they sped along (Al was still too grumpy to play) and James was shamefully bad, but was spared the ignominy of a record defeat when Dad swung the car off the motorway and into the maze of lanes leading into the Wizarding settlement at the heart of the county.

Avalon Heights was the second largest collection of Wizarding dwellings in Britain, behind Hogsmeade. It sat in sight of the great island which was once the crown of King Arthur's Capital, at the mouth of a river, in a valley shadowed by several historic monuments scared to wizards and certain religious peoples alike. Merlin, himself, was said to have spent much of his time here as Arthur's most influential adviser and the significance of the place made it a major location for wizard pilgrimages. The little village had sprung up as a result, housing those who were drawn to stay by the mystical pull of the place and providing a resting spot for passing travellers.

Dad drove the car around Glastonbury Hill, past the site of the famous Muggle musical festivals and through a twisting set of narrow country lanes before finally reaching the right place. Local legend told that all the houses here were hand-crafted by their original owners and as the car passed thatched cottages neighboured by towering hotel blocks (visible to wizard eyes only) it was hard to disagree. The charming little tavern, The Peacock's Tail, stood on the right and James watched Dad's face diffuse with a glow as he recalled some drunken memory or another about the place as they passed. The underground museum of Zoroaster's Cave came next then one more turn led into a cul-de-sac, at the end of which lay a pretty little house. They had arrived at Sparrow's Nook.

Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione were at the door before the Potters were even out of the car. James grinned at a snowman with fiery red straw for hair standing in the garden, before helping Dad unload the presents from the boot. Hugo raced out of the house and was scooped up by Mum as she exchanged greetings with her brother and Hermione. Rose had already pulled Lily indoors to play with her new doll's house by the time James and Dad, weighed down by presents, reached the house.

“Alright there, Harry?” said Ron jovially. “How was your trip?”

“Not bad,” said Dad. “Shaved a few minutes off my record time.”

“I've done it in under an hour,” said Ron boastfully. “Come back when you're worthy. And how're you, Jimmy? Still thumping the Green `n' Silvers on the Quidditch pitch?”

Uncle Ron clapped James hard on the back sending him flying forwards and it was only through some quick re-adjustment that he managed to hold onto the presents.

“He's got your reflexes, Harry.”

“Stop messing around, Ron,” said Aunt Hermione. “Hello, Harry.”

“Merry Christmas, Hermione,” Dad answered rather formally.

“Come on inside,” Aunt Hermione continued. “You'll catch a cold in all this snow. Come on before Albus and Hugo demolish all the Yule Log.”

James and Harry staggered over the threshold behind Mum and Uncle Ron. Aunt Hermione followed and guided James towards the living room where he placed the presents on the coffee table. Dad had gone with Mum and Ron into the kitchen.

“Thank you, James,” said Aunt Hermione. “Merry Christmas.” She gave him a little kiss. “How are you? I haven't seen you in so long.”

“I'm good,” said James. “You're looking well.”

“How nice of you to say,” said Aunt Hermione, beaming. “Uncle Ron bought me these Moonstone earrings. What do you think? Are they me?”

“Most definitely,” said James. He found himself oddly happy to see his Aunt, much more than he expected to be. He wasn't sure if this was because she embodied the imagined end of his academic problems or whether it was the fact that, now he was facing her, the similarities between her and Celesca were so vivid that he was finding it distracting.

“You are a charmer,” said Aunt Hermione. “And you're growing up so handsome, too. If I was twenty years younger…”

“You can't say things like that to my son,” said Mum coming in. “Not now that he's got a girlfriend.”

“Eh, young love is it, Jimmy?” said Uncle Ron. “Harry been teaching you some of his old tricks, has he?”

“I haven't got a girlfriend,” said James, feeling hot all of a sudden. “It's not like that.”

“It never is,” said Ron, grinning. “Good on you, that's what I say.”

“Yes, well, it's best to ignore most of what you say,” said Aunt Hermione haughtily. “It never makes much sense. Take no notice of them, James.”

James felt a warm thankfulness towards Aunt Hermione as she smiled at him.

“Fancy a drink, Harry?” asked Ron, dropping the previous subject. “I took in a case of that fabulous Muggle whiskey we tried when we stopped off in Cardiff docks last summer. Penderyn, you remember?”

“Go on then, it'd be shame to waste it,” said Dad, smirking.

“Have you ever been around one of these Muggle supermarkets?” Uncle Ron asked, pouring two large glasses of copper coloured liquid. “It's crazy. Absolutely mad. I leave it all to Hermione, she knows what she's doing. I swear, one afternoon in there would be enough for a stay at St Mungo's. You don't want a tipple, do you Jim?”

James, who had been curiously eyeing the Welsh whiskey was about to answer when Mum cut across.

“Absolutely not,” she said firmly. “And don't go offering whiskey to my fifteen-year-old son, Ron. It's totally irresponsible.”

“Sorry, Gin, I didn't mean any harm,” said Uncle Ron, backtracking. Mum just stared disapprovingly. Rose came into the room with Lily in tow just behind.

“Mum, me and Lil are going to go down to the pond and test out my new Ice Skating Mindy doll.”

“No you are not,” said Aunt Hermione. “I don't want you playing around by there. The ice is thin and it isn't safe.”

“Aww, Mum, but we'll be really careful, please,” Rose begged.

“I said no.”

“Pleeaasee?” Lily was joining in too, now.

“Ginny, back me up on this, will you,” asked Hermione desperately.

“Is it really that dangerous?” Mum asked. Aunt Hermione looked shocked, as though Mum had just slapped her.

“Our neighbour's little boy fell in there only a few days ago,” said Aunt Hermione. “It was lucky they can see the pond from their house or who knows what might have happened.”

“I'm sorry, girls, but Hermione's right, it doesn't sound like a good idea,” said Mum. This was met by a cacophony of outcry as Lily and Rose protested vehemently in unison. Unable to stand the din, and feeling uneasy at the oddly strained atmosphere in the room, James spoke up.

“If you like I'll go down and keep an eye on them,” he said. Lily looked perturbed at the idea. “Don't worry, I don't want to play with your dolls. I'll sit away from you.”

“Please, Mum,” said Lily and Rose to their respective mothers. Mum and Aunt Hermione looked at each other, shrugged then agreed.

“But not for long,” said Aunt Hermione. “Dinner will be ready soon and I want you washed up before you eat.”

As the girls ran to grab their coats Aunt Hermione took James aside in the kitchen. “Thank you for that. We wouldn't have heard the end of it otherwise. It's the kind of thing your Dad would do. Now run along and have fun playing with dolls.”

They grinned at each other before Lily and Rose suddenly shot through and out the door. James followed them to the pond, a wide shapeless mass covered over with misty, translucent ice. Up close James could see that Aunt Hermione was right; it was very thin in some places and James only had to press down lightly for it to begin to fracture.

“Lily!” he called. “Be careful over there. The ice is really thin. Don't run about because if you fall you'll go through.”

“Yes, Dad,” Lily replied sarcastically.

“I'm being serious,” said James, moving over to them. “I mean it, be careful by here. If you fell in you'd get stuck under there. Take care both of you.”

“Okay,” said Lily obediently. “Now go away.”

James obliged and moved to a rock on the other side of the pond. He was able to watch Rose and Lily plying with the ice skating doll, which came complete with a little wand that could make the doll perform all manner of complicated jumps and twists and tricks. The solitude gave James time to think on ways of broaching the subject of his Hogwarts dilemmas with Aunt Hermione. He decided to try and sit next to her at dinner and bring it up then, that seemed the best plan. His train of thought was broken by a voice calling from behind him.

“Wotcher, Jimmy”

“Teddy!”

Lily cried out and ran to Teddy who picked her up and carried her over to where James was sat.

“Have you lost a sister?” asked Teddy, half-laughing.

“No, I'm not that lucky,” said James.

Lily poked her tongue out at him. “Have you bought me any presents, Teddy?”

“Well I don't know,” said Teddy cryptically. “Have you been a good girl this year?”

“Probably not,” said Lily mischievously.

“That's what I like to hear,” said Teddy. “Then perhaps there might be a little something for you back up at the house.”

Lily was down and gone like a shot.

“Hiya, Ted,” said James.

“Merry Christmas and all that blah, blah,” said Teddy, smirking. “How you been, James?”

“I'm alright,” said James. “How are you and Victoire? Still snogging all over Britain?”

“I think there's a corner of Lincolnshire we've yet to chalk off but that's in the pipeline,” said Teddy. “Hello little Rosie. Still the best first year at Hogwarts?”

Rose blushed. “I'm doing okay.”

“No need to be modest,” said Teddy. “If you've got half your mothers brains you'll be top of the class. Shall we go back up? I'm freezing my ears off.”

The three of them walked back to the house talking about what presents they'd received for Christmas. They had barely reached the door when it opened and Uncle Ron came out.

“There you are,” he said. “We thought something had happened when Lily came back alone. Rosie, go and wash your hands. Mum's about to put dinner up. Good thing too, I'm starving.”

Rose disappeared inside with Uncle Ron. James and Teddy stomped the snow off their boots before following.

“You didn't actually get Lily anything, did you?” asked James.

“Of course I did,” said Teddy. “Little Wizarding Karaoke Machine. All the latest hits are on it by all the big bands; the Gruesome Twosome, Spellbinders, Busty McGrew and the Spillers. Even some classic Weird Sisters tracks.”

“Great,” said James. “Lily'll be warbling around the house till New Year. Suddenly, I can't wait to get back on the Hogwarts Express.”

Teddy hooted with laughter and led the way into the dining room. The grand table was set with Aunt Hermione's best silver and crockery; gothic candelabras ran along the centre and Weasleys Cracking Crackers criss-crossed the table like a multi-coloured spider's web. Teddy sat down next to Dad and James, spotting two spare chairs at the end made for one, hoping Aunt Hermione would take up the other. His luck was out, however, as his Aunt and Uncle sat opposite each other at the middle of the table and Albus was moved to sit in the empty seat near James.

The food was fantastic and James was in awe of Aunt Hermione's work when he remembered they didn't employ a house-elf. Aunt Hermione's greatest achievement was to force a change of law which said house-elves had to be paid what they deemed a fair wage (which turned out to be little more than `please' and `thank you' from their masters) but she still refused to have one work in her house, much to Uncle Ron's disappointment. Without house-elf help, Aunt Hermione had produced a huge spread which included four different meats, vegetables of every colour, bouncy Yorkshire pudding, a vat of rich gravy and all the sauces you could want.

There was much chatter and laughter as they ate, punctuated by the occasional explosion of a Cracker, accompanied by a sparkling firework. Uncle George, the richest Weasley, had added the Wizarding Cracker Company to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes and improved the product with better prizes, funnier jokes and a wider variety of hats. James looked down the table as Dad had Teddy in stitches finishing a joke about a hag, a mountain goat and a bottle of Skele-Gro. Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione had conveniently both pulled out crowns from their crackers, Mum had a foot-high tiara sitting slightly askew while Hugo had pulled out a pirate's hat complete with eye patch.

Dad, meanwhile, had a tall, pointed Wizard's hat which was tottering precariously close to his eyebrows. Later, James would remember watching the whole thing as though knowing exactly what was going to happen but being unable to stop it. Whether it was through inebriation or rocking with laughter as Teddy read out his cracker joke it was difficult to tell; the only thing that mattered was that Dad's hat flew off and knocked Aunt Hermione's wine glass over, spilling the contents over her dress. Several people laughed and cheered ironically but James saw Dad's face contort in horror.

“I'm so sorry,” said Dad quickly.

“It's fine,” said Aunt Hermione, swiftly cleaning up the mess with a flick of her wand.

“I don't know what happened, I'm sorry.”

“Really it's okay, there's no harm done.”

The whole exchange stayed with James for several days, not because of the content but because of its manner and what happened next. There was something unusual in their voices that James couldn't work out and not once in the little exchange did they look at each other. James, who had always thought of Dad and Aunt Hermione close because of what they'd been through together, found this very odd. Just as this was puzzling him he happened to look up; through the din of conversation, and with everyone seemingly looking elsewhere, Dad and Aunt Hermione did look at one another. Their gazes met only for a fraction of a second but James saw both their eyes; they were both incredibly expressive though James couldn't read their meaning, but as their eyes met he felt a jolt as though a shot of energy had passed between them and burst around the room. James even jerked backwards but no-one else seemed to move, no-one else had seen it.

“Are you alright, James?” asked Aunt Hermione, looking pointedly at him.

“Yeah, fine,” said James, recovering himself. “Trapped wind, I think. Too many sprouts.”

“Oh for Merlin's sake don't fart at the dinner table,” said Teddy, grinning over. Hugo and Albus howled with giggles.

“Don't talk like that,” said Mum. “Not while we're eating.”

“Sorry,” said Teddy, winking at Mum who smirked back.

James, unable to understand what he'd seen, took to watching Dad and Aunt Hermione in turn for the rest of the meal. To his astonishment they didn't look at each other once. If he hadn't known to look, he probably wouldn't have noticed, but in this studious mode James noted that Dad kept his head tilted away from Aunt Hermione's direction and she did the same. It was all very peculiar.

At the end of the meal Aunt Hermione collected the plates with a flick of her wand and went into the kitchen to wash up. Sensing his opportunity had arrived, James sprang up and out bounded after her.

“Do you need a hand?” he asked.

“I can do this all by magic,” said Aunt Hermione. “But I've had the feeling all day that you've wanted to talk to me so we can do this the old Muggle way. I'll wash and you dry.”

For the first few minutes the only sound was the clink of dishes as they struck each other in the soapy wash basin. James was trying to work out how best to bring the subject of Hogwarts up but didn't have a good starting point. Luckily, Aunt Hermione's mind reading skills seemed well in tune today.

“So, how are things going at school?” she asked.

“Oh, you know, okay,” said James.

“I'm quite accomplished at Legilimency,” said Aunt Hermione slyly, “but I wouldn't need those skills to tell that what you said isn't entirely true. Am I right?”

James nodded.

“Tell me,” Aunt Hermione pressed.

“Well, though don't tell Dad any of this,” James began, thinking that as she and Dad didn't seem to speak to each other any more there was little danger of her blabbing, “I'm having a little trouble in Transfiguration. And Charms. And Potions could be better. In fact, I'm having a little trouble in all my classes.”

“Does this have anything to do with the mystery lady your Mum mentioned when you arrived?” asked Aunt Hermione.

“No,” said James. “If it wasn't for her I'd be in a right mess, even worse than the one I'm in now. She's been great. She's like you, helping Dad and Ron when they were at school.”

Aunt Hermione smiled fondly. “Well, your Dad didn't really need it. He could have coped on his own were it not for…other distractions.”

“What? Like evil, psychotic Dark Lords trying to kill him?” asked James, sardonically.

“Yes, that sort of thing,” said Aunt Hermione. “Unfortunately, you don't have that excuse. So what's yours?”

“I just can't seem to manage everything all at once,” said James. “School and Quidditch and the other clubs I'm in. Plus I have my social life - I have to keep up appearances.”

“Naturally,” Aunt Hermione agreed.

“All I'm asking for is a little help,” said James, trying to look his helpless best. “Dad always goes on about how you managed to do loads more than everyone else and better than the little they had to do. Please, can't you spare just a pointer or two?”

Aunt Hermione smiled again. “I won't help you cheat to manage your homework, but you know if I can help you I will. Tell you what, we have to do the whole present exchanging thing now but after that we'll go into my study and have a chat about this, see if we can't find a solution.”

“Thank you, Aunt,” said James. He couldn't stop himself grabbing her around the middle. “You really are a lifesaver.”

“You're just like your father,” Aunt Hermione chuckled. “Now watch you don't get any soap suds in your hair; people might wonder what we've been up to out here!”

With so many dishes and pots to clean, James and Aunt Hermione soon gave up the manual washing and turned the task over to magic. By this time everyone else had congregated in the living room and were already beginning to hand out presents. James and Aunt Hermione joined the circle, sitting opposite each other either side of the tree. Most of the gifts were staple items; chocolates, perfumes and the like, but Uncle Ron was elated with the Chudley Cannons cufflinks which James had bought him, declaring that he would have to buy a suit just to wear them. Uncle Ron had bought Dad a nifty wand-holster, perfect for quick draws in case any Dark wizards happened to cross your path. James had bought Aunt Hermione a little bracelet with a silver otter dangling from it. It had tiny rubies for eyes which shone brightly from the light of the tree candles.

“Dad said it was your Patronus,” said James. “I asked him because they're supposed to be good luck charms. Patronus's do protect you, after all.”

“They certainly do,” said Aunt Hermione, beaming. “This is really beautiful, James. You shouldn't have spent so much.”

“It wasn't loads,” said James. “Besides, Mum and Dad give me way too much pocket money anyway. I'd only be spending it in Uncle George's shop in Hogsmeade on trouble making things.”

“Well, I got you this, though it isn't as lovely as your gift,” said Aunt Hermione, admiring the little otter.

James took a heavy package from Aunt Hermione. He ripped back the paper to reveal a handsome leather-bound book with big gold letters. The Magnum Opus: A Path to Alchemical Success.

“Wow! This is amazing!” said James. “I love it. Alchemy is my favourite subject. This is exactly what I need, thank you.”

“I remember you saying how much you enjoyed it,” said Aunt Hermione. “I wish they'd replaced Divination with Alchemy when I was at Hogwarts. It's a fascinating subject.”

James flicked through the thick pages, looking hungrily at the detailed diagrams and instructions. He was genuinely thrilled at the gift; Alchemy was one of the few subjects James was actually up to speed with in school. As he looked at icons of Sol and Luna he remembered Celesca's view that he was better at subjects he was interested in. Feeling the love of the book in his hands he realised that the girl knew him scarily well.

It didn't take long for all the presents to be opened and no sooner had Aunt Hermione whisked away all the strewn wrapping paper than out came several bottles of wine, a decanter of Firewhiskey and a large bottle of brandy. Teddy had a small glass of brandy (just for Christmas, or so he claimed) then said his farewells as he had a date with Victoire. As Dad and Uncle Ron slipped into conversation around the big wireless in the corner, and Mum refilled her wineglass as she watched Lily, Al, Hugo and Rose playing Gobstones on the carpet, Aunt Hermione caught James' eye and nodded pointedly towards the door to her study at the back of the room.

The study was a spacious, circular room with red and gold tapestries flanking the large bay window which looked out towards the pond. Shelves to the ceiling groaned under the weight of innumerable books and a large candelabra floated in mid-air above a handsome mahogany table, which took up most of the space in the room. The table was neat and orderly with quills and ink held ready at the side of a highly-polished writing space. Pictures of Hugo and Rose waved energetically from simple frames on one side, while an old picture of Aunt Hermione, Uncle Ron and Dad on their Hogwarts Graduation day sat at the centre.

“That's an old picture,” said Aunt Hermione following James' gaze. “I remember not being able to control my hair; it was so breezy that day.”

“You all look happy,” said James.

“We hadn't long defeated Voldemort,” Aunt Hermione reflected. “Everyone was happy. Your Dad was a little strained but I always think of that day as the time when he started to get back to normal. Well, as normal as he could after what he'd been through.”

James looked at the picture trying to imagine his Dad at the time, just getting to grips with all the death, resurrection and murder he'd experienced. It was hard to picture; Dad had always been so docile, it was difficult to imagine him as recklessly brave and dashing the way Mum always described him.

“So, about your school problems,” said Aunt Hermione. “What can we do about them?”

“I was hoping you could tell me,” said James.

“What, exactly, were you hoping I could do for you?” asked Aunt Hermione. “I assume you didn't want me to do your homework for you.”

“Would you?” asked James. “I'm just kidding, Auntie H! I don't know what I was hoping for - pointers, advice, the wealth of your experience. No point me asking Dad, `cause he had you to get him through school in the first place and Mum'd be too disappointed that I was struggling. You're the clever one between us, I thought you might have some suggestions.”

“All I did was work hard, study hard and hope for the best,” said Aunt Hermione.

“That doesn't really help me,” said James.

“No,” said Aunt Hermione. “I'll tell you what, you take these. I was saving them for Rose and Hugo but they won't be needing them for a while so you can use them.”

Aunt Hermione pulled down a number of dog-eared textbooks from a shelf near the door.

“But I've already got these books,” said James, reading the faded names of his set school texts.

“Not these exact ones,” said Aunt Hermione. “These are my personal ones, the ones I used in school, along with notes I made for all my classes. I'm not doing your work for you, so technically it isn't cheating, but they might give you a fresh way of looking at things; open your mind up to other ways of thinking.”

James picked up the nearest volume and flicked to a random page; the margins were crammed full of little notes and asides while sheaves of parchment were squeezed inside the back cover, all stuffed with the writings of a brilliant, fifteen-year-old Hermione.

“This is perfect,” James said quietly. “But are you sure its okay for me to have them? You were saving them, after all.”

“As long as they're put to good use, they're all yours,” said Aunt Hermione.

“They will be, I promise,” said James.

“They'd better be,” said Aunt Hermione. “My conscience is stretched to its limit giving them to you. I was having second thoughts about letting my children have them; I don't approve of cheating and this is pretty close.”

“I'll do better in school with these,” said James earnestly. “You really are doing me a massive favour.”

“I was joking, James,” said Aunt Hermione, smiling. “Of course you can use them. Copy them if you like, though you won't learn anything that way. I'll do anything I can to help you and if this does then I'm happy. So anyway, who is this girl everyone is talking about?”

“Her name's Celesca,” said James, colouring. “She's the best student in my year. Top of every class. But she's really nice and we get on okay. She helped me with a piece of work just before the holidays. I'd have been up poo creek without her.”

“Celesca - that's pretty,” said Aunt Hermione.

“Yeah, she is,” said James.

“I meant her name.”

“Er - yeah…so did I.”

James and Aunt Hermione caught each others eye and grinned.

“I think Celesca's Aunt went to school with Mum and Dad,” said James.

“Really?” said Aunt Hermione. “Who is it? I was there, too, you know, so I might know her.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot,” said James, feeling foolish. “And you must know her because Uncle Ron had lunch with her the other day. Luna…something. Dad didn't say her last name.”

Aunt Hermione's air changed suddenly. “Luna? Ron had lunch with Luna? He didn't tell me.”

“He works with her husband, doesn't he?” said James, feeling an uncomfortable change in the atmosphere. “Sorry, Aunt, have I said something wrong?”

“What? Oh, no, no,” said Aunt Hermione quickly. Her expression softened and she relaxed herself. It was as if she was trying to hide her true expression. “I was just surprised. I haven't seen Luna in years. And you say she's your friend's Aunt?”

“I think she must be,” said James. “She's gone off to Siberia hunting some creature whose name sounds made-up. We had a Christmas card from someone called Luna and Dad said she'd gone to Siberia, too. Can't be a coincidence.”

“That certainly sounds like Luna,” said Aunt Hermione. “Always talking about non-existent things. She came from an eccentric family.”

“Dad liked her, said she was powerful,” said James. “And Celesca says she's really close to her.”

“Luna was powerful, gifted, and she was very loyal,” said Aunt Hermione. “If your friend is like that she's a very lucky girl. Anyway, we'd better get back before we're missed.”

There was a finality in her tone which gave James the feeling that Aunt Hermione wanted to be alone with her thoughts. They made their way back into the living room and though Aunt Hermione did a passable job at pretending to be the happy, dutiful hostess, James could see something was terribly wrong with her. It made him uneasy to think he'd caused it.

It was late by the time everyone went to bed. The house had several rooms, magically squeezed into the space upstairs. Lily and Albus bunked in with Rose and Hugo respectively, while Mum went up early to the guest bedroom after helping Aunt Hermione hover Uncle Ron, who was snoring after too much Firewhiskey, up to bed. Aunt Hermione didn't come back to say goodnight, leaving James and Dad alone.

“Have you had a good day, son,” said Dad. He sounded tired and more than a little tipsy.

“Yeah, it's been alright,” said James.

“You look like something's on your mind,” said Dad. “Share with your old Dad.”

James thought hard for a few moments before answering. He decided not to be too specific with his concerns over Dad and Aunt Hermione's seemingly evaporated relationship, sticking instead to his own worries.

“I think I upset Aunt Hermione earlier,” said James.

“Upset her?” asked Dad. “She didn't look upset to me. What gave you that idea?”

“I told her about Uncle Ron having lunch with your old friend, Luna, when she asked me about Celesca. She went a bit weird for a while, sort of angry. After that she just looked sad. Didn't you think she looked sad?”

Dad was certainly more taut now, more attentive. “I can't honestly say I noticed.”

“She was trying to hide it,” said James. “And doing a good job of it. But I saw it. I don't know if it's because she reminds me so much of my friend or what, but she doesn't look happy.”

“Hermione isn't happy?” said Dad. It wasn't really a question or a statement and James wasn't sure whether Dad was talking to him or simply thinking aloud, but there was a trace of real concern in his voice. James got up; he had to say something, anything that might make Dad realise there was something not right in his relationship with one of his oldest friends.

“I think there's something really wrong with her,” said James dramatically. “I think - what she needs, I think, is a friend to talk to. Goodnight, Dad.”

James turned and went to bed leaving Dad's silhouette in the light of the last flickering candle. He went into the little room next to Hugo's, changed and got into bed. He lay awake for some time, hoping he'd done the right thing and listening for Dad's footsteps on the stairs. He fell asleep quicker than he would have liked but it didn't matter because the footsteps he was waiting for, never came.

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