Return to Sender

Molly M. Johnson Molly M. Johnson 4 5 2003-07-31T22:18:00Z 2003-08-04T05:45:00Z 13 5488 31284 260 62 38418 9.3821 150

Author’s Note: First and foremost, please realize that this story is a sequel to a story that was completed before the release of ‘Order of the Phoenix’. Some things (such as James’ parents being dead) cannot be retrofitted to the new canon. Whenever possible though, new canon has been worked into this series. I strongly urge all readers of this story to read ‘Arrival Unexpected’ first. Like its predecessor, this story is planned to be ten chapters long.

Many thanks to Jen, Fievel and Loup Noir for their beta work and support with this chapter. Addiitional thanks to Fefi3 for always recommending that people read ‘Arrival’ and to Kizzibee, and Kel for their help with the summary.

Chapter One

A simple solution

The young woman sat perched on the edge of her seat in the Headmaster’s office. Her red hair fell over her shoulders and every few seconds she would raise a hand from her lap and push it back irritably. Her normally bright green eyes were red-rimmed and rather dull-looking; her bottom lip twitched slightly. In her lap, she held what appeared to be a large pelt of red fur; the red of her hair and the fur were a perfect match except for the large patch of white on the left side of the fur.

Without warning the fur leapt up and whacked her across the face. Lily Evans swore under her breath and struggled to pull the attacking pelt of fur down. Several of the portraits in the office began to chuckle; a very stately yet cross-looking picture of a witch glared down at her and told her to mind her manners while in the Headmaster’s Office.

“I am perfectly aware of how one should behave in the presence of the Headmaster,” Lily said tartly. “You will note, however, that Professor Dumbledore isn’t here.”

“Ah yes…” replied the portrait. “I believe our dear Dumbledore is off trying to repair an ancient suit of armor that your tail smashed to bits while you were walking down here.”

Lily glared at the portrait. “It is not my tail.”

“Of course it's not, dear,” came a reply from another painting behind her. It was of a dwarf-like wizard who resembled her Charms teacher, Professor Flitwick, except this man’s nose was so red it looked like he was wearing lipstick on it. He held a large bottle of Ogden’s Old Firewhiskey in his left hand. “That’s why that huge hic tail most certainly isn’t coming from underneath her hic robes. Wouldn’t you agree, Mathilda?”

Apparently Mathilda was the picture that had started this conversation because the reply came from behind Lily, forcing her to whip her head around again.

“Of course I agree, Cassius!” Mathilda rolled her eyes. “And I certainly didn’t hear Dumbledore say that young Miss Evans here had had another one of her little ‘accidents’.”

Lily pulled her wand out, leveling it at Mathilda’s frame. “Shut it already! Or I’ll put a Silencing Charm on your portrait so strong everyone will think you were the first mime Headmistress in the history of Hogwarts!”

A man with a long beard and wearing a purple robe strode into the room at that moment. “Do not allow them to ruffle your robes, Miss Evans.” Albus Dumbledore sat down at his desk, opposite Lily. “Mr. Filch was in yesterday to clean them. Apparently he used a new cleansing potion which they found nasally offense.” The ancient wizard chuckled softly. “They have been on edge ever since.”

Tucking her wand back into her robes, Lily nodded.

Dumbledore regarded her briefly, and then continued. “You know why you are here, I presume?”

Lily nodded again, thinking how different this was from her last private visit with the Headmaster. It had been just over a year ago that she had sat in this same chair, explaining to him the events that had led to the death of her Potions Mistress. The woman had been working for the Dark Lord, Voldemort, attempting to get an ancient artifact of Power – a piece of the Staff of Merlin – from its hiding place in the school. She had been scared then, fearful that she was the cause of Professor Hawthorne’s fiery demise. She had cast a simple flame bolt at the woman as Lily’s attacker had attempted to cast the Killing Curse on her. Professor Hawthorne had good reason to want to kill her. In order to keep the Dark Lord from reassembling the staff, Lily had destroyed the middle section.

Dumbledore had listened patiently to her and had absolved her afterwards, explaining that a witch as young as she couldn’t have possibly been the sole cause of the blaze that engulfed Hawthorne. More powerful magic was at work. To Lily and everyone else, what was unsaid was that it was certainly the work of Lord Voldemort. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named possessed powers that no one dared speak of and, as far as the Ministry of Magic was concerned, Lily bore none of the guilt in Hawthorne’s death.

If she had been scared at that last meeting, Lily was terrified during this one. There was no doubt that it was she - in particular her new fox tail - who was the root of the problem. She took a deep breath, willing herself to stay calm. Do not cry, she repeated over and over in her mind. Do not cry.

“Would you care to tell me what happened, Miss Evans?” said Dumbledore gently, apparently sensing Lily’s terror.

“Well, you see sir,” she said slowly, trying to keep her voice even. “I was tutoring a few of the first years in basic Transfiguration. We were trying to turn a fox into a fondue set when…” She paused here, unsure of how to explain the event. “When the spell just fizzled and then backfired.” She made a small shrug.

Dumbledore nodded, his kind blue eyes regarded her thoughtfully. “Define ‘fizzled’, if you please.”

Sucking on her upper lip, Lily was quiet for a few moments. “The spell was done with the right words and concentration. It shot out of my wand as normal. The fox even began to shimmer and change into the fondue set, but then… then it was like it stopped in mid-spell. That was when the backfire hit.” Lily pointed to her tail. The tail shot into the air again, giving Dumbledore a small wiggle that just might have been a wave.

The Headmaster smiled. “Other than yourself, how many students were affected?”

“Rebecca Goldberg grew a set of ears and Charles Weasley has the muzzle and whiskers of the fox.” She paused again guiltily. “The fox is nowhere to be found, sir. I… I think…”

“It is not dead, Miss Evans,” said Dumbledore, in answer to her unspoken question. Lily breathed a sigh of relief, sitting back in the chair. “But it will be difficult to recover. Professor McGonagall has seen the other students to the Infirmary already and you will have to join them shortly. As all three of you bear part of the fox, all three of you need to be present to recover it.”

“Oh, thank goodness!” Lily moved as if to stand. “Shall I go there now, sir?”

Dumbledore shook his head. “Not quite yet, Miss Evans. We have a few more things to discuss, if I am not mistaken.”

Her face grew pale. She knew what was coming next, what she had been afraid of since the previous spring. Someone had finally realized that her magic was failing.

It had begun harmlessly enough – a fizzle here, a pop there – but more and more it became clear to Lily that something was dreadfully wrong. She spoke of it to no one, not even to her boyfriend, James Potter.

If she was casting in public, she stuck to the simple spells. When her friends were all taking their Apparition tests last summer, Lily had bowed out, saying that it just wasn’t her preferred mode of transport.

But eventually, people did notice. James had urged her to go to Dumbledore or Madame Pomfrey with the problem. Lily was as stubborn as a garden gnome. She patently refused to talk to anyone about it. She had done the research and there was no malady or curse that was causing this mysterious flux in her magic. She was just losing her touch.

Lily took a deep breath and dared to look Dumbledore in the eye. “I’m turning into a Squib, aren’t I?”

A mischievous smile played on the old man’s face. “No, you are not turning into a Squib. Squibs are born, Miss Evans, not made. That is the only symptom that you have?”

Rather than releasing the breath she held so tightly, Lily just nodded, waiting for Dumbledore to continue. There was, in fact, one other symptom: when she wasn’t thinking at all and just needed something to happen, such as requiring a new piece of parchment while doing homework, things tended to do the work themselves. However, now that she knew that she wasn’t a Squib, she wasn’t quite so sure that one problem had anything to do with the other. As this unmentioned ‘problem’ was actually rather useful, she chose not to speak of it.

“May I see your wand for a moment?” Dumbledore extended his hand and Lily placed her wand in it. The old man examined it closely for a few moments and then with a swish and a flick produced a mug of hot cocoa out of thin air. The mug levitated gently over to Lily and settled in her hands. “There is no need for panic, Miss Evans. I always find that a steaming mug calms me down. Perhaps you should try the same.”

Lily nodded, taking a deep drink. “Thank you, sir.”

Dumbledore watched her carefully for a moment, as if considering his options. “This is your first wand, is it not?”

“Yes, sir, I’ve had it since I was eleven.”

Smiling, he handed the wand back to her. “That could well be the problem then. You’ve gone through a lot of changes in the last year. Who you are often reflects the type of wand you need. The wand chooses the wizard, as my good friend Mr. Ollivander is so fond of saying. It seems entirely plausible that this wand has sensed that you need something different. Something it cannot give you.”

Hopeful tears stung her eyes. “Do you really think so, sir? I’ve been so dreadfully scared that something was wrong this last term…”

Dumbledore tilted his head. “Why didn’t you come and see me before then, Lily?”

“Well, you see, sir, I uh… I mean to say…” Lily fumbled not only with her words, but also with her mug, spilling hot cocoa across her lap and her tail. The tail shot upwards and whacked her across the face several times as if declaring a duel. It took all of her self-control not to swear aloud.

When she had finished attempting to mop up the mess with her cloak, she noticed that Dumbledore was scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment. “I believe you are going home for the Christmas holidays, Miss Evans?”

“Yes, sir. Although I’m meeting Annalise Ryder in Diagon Alley on Boxing Day to spend the rest of the hols with her.” Lily was very curious as to what was coming next.

“Ah, excellent.” He finished with his writing and folded the parchment into thirds. Dumbledore drew out his wand and tapped it twice; wax dripped out of the end of his wand, swirling and spiraling until it formed the Hogwarts crest, which now held the paper shut from prying eyes. “Take this to Mr. Ollivander with my regards. He’ll know just what to do about your problem and I’m sure by the time you return we’ll have you all sorted out.” He handed the letter to her and gestured towards the door. “Now, I believe you have an appointment to keep with Madam Pomfrey.”

* * *

He watched from the shadows as the stone gargoyle hopped aside and allowed her to exit the Headmaster’s office. There was a look of pure relief on her face as she twirled her wand between her fingers, but he could still see the tear stains on her cheeks.

She turned on her heel and headed away from him, her cloak swishing open behind her in what he considered an appealing way. Lily would laugh to know that. She couldn’t see herself as he saw her. Maybe it was better that way, thought James as he sneaked up behind her. He reached out and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her to a stop.

She screamed and spun around to face him. Lily had to look skyward to meet his eyes. “James Potter! You scared me half to death!”

“Only half?” he teased. “I was hoping I could at least get you to faint this time.” He waggled his eyebrows at her, making them rise high above his glasses. “Then I could have my way with you.”

Lily laughed out loud. “If all it would take for you to do that is for me to play dead, I’d be happy to oblige.” A dark smile crept across her face, making her green eyes glow with mischief. “Though of all the boys in our year, I wouldn’t have expected it to be you that found the optional heartbeat attractive.”

“Nah, that’s Sirius all over though, don’t you think?” James gave her a quick peck on the lips. “The only thing that isn’t optional for me is that it has to be you.”

She flushed to the roots of her hair, turning away from him with a giggle. “You’re really too much sometimes. Now, let me loose, I have to go to the Infirmary.”

James clucked disapprovingly. “And this is the witch who said just last week that she could never get enough of me. Must be losing my touch.” Lily reached up and ran her hands through his untidy black hair. James smiled down at her and, grabbing her wrist, planted a slow kiss on it. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what happened with Albus.”

“Oh yes!” Lily settled into his embrace a bit more. “You know, its still odd on the old ears to hear you call Dumbledore that.”

James rolled his eyes. “You know quite well that he’s been my legal guardian since my parents died. You can’t expect me to call him ‘Headmaster Dumbledore’ around the house, can you?”

“I didn’t mean that at all… it’s just that he seems like such an unapproachable, almost godly, figure sometimes. It seems odd that my boyfriend knows him on such a personal level.”

“What? I don’t seem god-like as well?” James struck several Herculean poses as if to show that he was on par with his guardian.

“Only on the Quidditch pitch and in your own mind…” The red-haired witch exploded with mirth. “Seriously James! Do you want to hear what happened or not?”

“Go on then,” said James with a grin as he returned to his normal pose. “I was starting to think you were stalling on purpose.”

“Dumbledore said my magical problems are likely rooted in my wand – not that the wand is broken or anything, just that I’ve outgrown it.” Lily reached into her robe pocket and drew out the letter. “Said to give this to Mr. Ollivander and he’d get me sorted out.”

“Excellent,” replied James. “Glad to see I haven’t broke you with overuse.” He winked down at her. Nodding towards the letter, he added, “Have you read that yet?”

“No, I haven’t actually.” Lily pulled at the parchment, trying to open it. The corner of the letter snapped at Lily, giving her a deep paper cut. “Cor, that stings.”

“Guess it’s for Ollivander’s eyes only.” James attempted to stifle a laugh.

She eyed him suspiciously. “You knew it would do that, didn’t you? Didn’t you?”

James stepped out of her reach just as she threw a mock punch at him. Her tail whipped dangerously at him as well. “I wasn’t sure… I swear, I only suspected!” Pointing at the tail, he asked, “Did he say what’s to be done with that thing, or do I have to start calling you ‘Vixen’?”

“Oh yes…. I’m to go to the Hospital Wing. They’ll be able to remove the tail and retrieve the fox without a problem.” She turned, walking steadily towards the Infirmary. “You’re a lucky one, James Potter. I’ll have to wait until dinner to kill you.”

As he watched her cloak swish out of sight, James Potter thought that he was quite lucky indeed.

* * *

“Lily! Over here!” Annalise Ryder waved the glum looking Head Girl over to her table. Annalise pushed her books aside as Lily took a seat. Lily stood up and down several times, as if trying to get comfortable. “James said to say he’d be studying until dinner and didn’t… how did he put it…” Annalise pushed a lock of brown curls out of her face. “Ah yes, ‘didn’t want to be distracted by your charms.’ Bit of a bad pun, that.”

Lily gave a short laugh under her breath. “Oh yeah, I’m quite the Charmer, aren’t I?” She’d been doing special Charms coursework through the Ministry of Magic for the last two years, having finished N.E.W.T level work during her fifth year. To say that Charms was Lily’s best subject was an understatement. Annalise had once heard Professor Flitwick say that Lily could put him out of a job if she put her mind to it.

“What’s the matter then?” Annalise furrowed her brows. “James said Dumbledore had given you good news, that everything was going to be alright.” She hated to see Lily worry over something. It always seemed to Annalise as if Lily had too much on her mind. Not that the older witch didn’t have a right – being Head Girl of Hogwarts was a right hard job, and Lily took the responsibility very seriously. Annalise hoped that she could do half as well if she was given the chance next year.

“Well, he did and it is alright, sort of…” Lily reached under her robes and revealed the foxtail. “We got the fox back, but I still have the tail.”

“And the fox?” inquired Annalise.

“Let’s just say that neither the fox nor I are happy with the current situation.” Lily’s voice dropped to a whisper. “McGonagall even called in a few people from the Magical Reversal Squad. It just won’t leave me behind.”

“Don’t you mean ‘my’ behind?” Annalise smirked, adding a spark to her brown eyes. Lily’s bottom lip quivered; she looked ready to cry. “Hey now, it was just a bit of humor. Don’t let this get you down, love. Isn’t there anything they can do about it?”

Lily shrugged, wiping her eyes on the end of the tail. “They think it will disappear on its own. I just have to give it time.”

“Not going to make for an easy Christmas with the Muggles, is it?” Lily shook her head and Annalise reached over, giving Lily’s hand a supportive squeeze. “Buck up though. You’ll only be there for a few days. Once you’re staying with Alice and me, it won’t matter if you have a tail, three horns and a pair of flaming buttocks.”

Laughing despite herself, Lily squeezed Annalise’s hand in return. “Thanks, ‘Lise. I was starting to feel like I was in real trouble again.”

“Speaking of trouble.” Annalise nodded towards the Common Room fireplace several yards away. “Seems that Ivory Ebbs has decided to test her luck with Trouble again.”

Lily shook her head. “She’ll never learn; a girl can’t flirt with Trouble without getting burned.” Trouble was their nickname for Sirius Black, who was really pouring on the charm from all appearances. “He’s a great bloke, so long as he realizes that he doesn’t have a chance of getting into your knickers.”

“Or if he doesn’t think your knickers are worth getting into,” added Annalise with a sigh. She knew that she was rather plain and didn’t have a chance with him, but she just couldn’t help but think that Sirius Black was just the right kind of trouble. He was very handsome, no denying that – wavy brown-black hair offset by pale eyes complimented his muscular Beater’s physique.

Rolling her eyes, Lily clucked disapprovingly. “Come on now, ‘Lise. You don’t really want Trouble in your life.”

“No…” Annalise stretched the word out as long as possible. “But I wouldn’t mind having him under the mistletoe for a few moments.”

Her tail slapped playfully at Annalise’s hand and Lily shook her head. “That thing may have a mind of its own, but it has the right idea for now.” The school bells tolled, calling them to dinner in the Great Hall. “Going to eat with us tonight or will you sit with your mates?”

There was a hopeful look on Lily’s face; Annalise knew that she got sick of being the only girl amongst James and his friends at times. Not that Lily disliked the boys in any way. They just got to be too much for one witch to handle. “I’ve already talked to Marcy and Olive. We’re going to try and get seats by you lot.”

“Excellent!” Lily beamed. “I’ll head down now and save some spots at the table.” She turned in her chair, towards the fire. “Hey, Sirius!” The handsome wizard turned and gave her a small wave of acknowledgement. “Could you be a dear and fetch James for me? I’m heading down to the Great Hall now.”

Striding over to where the two witches sat, Sirius Black nodded. “Not a problem, Lil, but it will cost you a kiss.”

Lily snorted and cocked an eyebrow at her boyfriend’s best mate. “And I’m sure that you’re willing to take the chance that it will cost you a punch in the jaw from James?”

Feigning shock, Sirius staggered backwards a step. “You make it sound so lewd! Don’t you kiss your dear old Dad at home?”

“Yes,” replied Lily with a smile. “But then I’ve never caught my dad rummaging through my trunk for my bikini either.” She stood up, heading towards the portrait door. “See you both in a few!”

Sirius pounded his fist to his heart. “How she wounds me…” He glanced at Annalise, and she made sure to chuckle appreciatively at his effort. Encouraged by this, he grabbed her hand and kissed it chivalrously. “You’re eating with us tonight then, Miss Ryder?”

“Uh, yes. If Lily can manage to get seats for Olive and Marcy as well that is.” It seemed unfair that her heart was racing; she knew that Sirius was just playing around.

“Right then!” Sirius stood up. “I’ll go get James. Peter and Remus are in the Library, or at least they were. See you then, Annalise.”

There goes Trouble, she thought as Sirius Black strode confidently up the boy’s staircase. It would be easier to see him go if he didn’t wear such tight trousers though.

* * *

Remus had just finished pouring himself a glass of pumpkin juice when Lily breezed into the Great Hall. She sat down opposite of him, next to Peter.

“Hullo, get all your work done in the Library?” she asked amiably.

Peter chuffed under his breath, causing Lily to raise a concerned eyebrow. He turned towards her, and Remus noted the dark circles under his eyes. “Don’t mind me,” he said with a shrug. “I just wish this term was over already. How many days left until holiday?”

“Too many and not enough,” chimed Remus. To Lily he said, “I see you still have someone following you…”

The tail poked at her silverware until the fork was pushed off the table. “Don’t ask. I’ll explain later. Suffice it to say it’s a real pain in the arse.”

“I hope you mean that figuratively rather than literally,” Peter said with a slight grin. He pushed his thinning blond hair out of his eyes. It was still odd for Remus to see Peter with longish hair. As it had started to fall out, Peter Pettigrew had determined that he might be able to make up for the loss by letting the remaining hairs grow longer. “However, if it really does hurt, I’m sure you could ask James to kiss it and make it better.”

Quicker than the Golden Snitch, her tail whipped around, smacking Peter in the back of the head. Remus laughed out loud. “Best watch your mouth, young Pettigrew. Our dear friend’s extra appendage seems to have ears of its own.”

Rubbing the back of his head, Peter sighed and stood up. “I’m too tired for this. I’m heading back to Gryffindor Tower. See you.”

Remus watched his friend go, shocked that Peter was pushing through the tide of hungry students. Aside from Quidditch matches and the occasional prank, mealtime was one of the few things Peter typically enjoyed. He often remarked that he wished he had a house-elf at home to cook for him. His mother was a medi-witch for the Ministry of Magic, and while her healing skills and medical knowledge were way above par, her culinary skills left much to be desired.

Beginning in November, Remus had noticed that Peter was not eating as much as he used to, even skipping meals a few times a week. He had lost a bit of weight in the process, but rather than making him look trimmer and healthier, his lack of puppy fat seemed to diminish him. He looked sallow now, tired and just plain worn out.

Remus thought back on the past year. So much had changed for Peter. He had been attacked in the fall of their sixth year and put into a cursed sleep by a minion of Lord Voldemort. When he awoke, he had screamed and complained of phantom pains and bad dreams. Madam Pomfrey had intended that Peter should use the dreamless sleep potion she gave him for only a few days, but things had gotten so bad that Peter had used it for nearly four months before the school nurse cut him off entirely. Remus knew that Peter, who had been a deep sleeper before his attack, now was listless; the slightest noise would wake him up. And although he never spoke of it, Remus was sure that the nightmares continued sporadically as well. Days such as this when Peter had dark circles under his eyes and the things that Peter said in his sleep were evidence enough for Remus.

The arrival of Annalise Ryder, Marcy Downs and Olive Markeby brought Remus out of his reverie. He smiled at Annalise as she sat down next to him and passed her the pitcher of pumpkin juice. She thanked him and returned the smile. Annalise was a very short girl. Lily herself was just under five and a half feet but the sixth-year witch was several inches smaller than that. Even sitting, the top of Annalise’s head only came up to Remus’ shoulder. It made it awkward to hold a conversation with the younger Prefect.

Her friend Marcy had sat next to her. Olive was sitting next to Lily on the other side of the table, looking around. “Where’s Sirius?” asked the black-haired sixth year.

Stifling a chuckle, Lily replied, “He’ll be along shortly, I’m sure. He was just going to get James when I left the Common Room. How was Ancient Runes today, Olive?”

“Fine…. Just fine. Professor Glee-Ficks is traveling to Egypt over the holidays. She decided not to give us any homework since she’d rather not have to worry about grading it when she got back.”

Remus snorted. The professor of Ancient Runes, Hera Glee-Ficks, was notoriously lazy when it came to grading papers. She preferred to assign in-class work, which could be swapped with a fellow student and graded that way. If you didn’t like pop quizzes, you didn’t take Ancient Runes. “I heard she’s going to Egypt to do some work for Gringott’s. They found a tomb in October that has writing on it that none of their curse-breakers can read.”

Next to him, Annalise nodded. “I heard that, too. Dad was sent down there in November to see if it might be a mathemagical language. No luck though and he got a nasty sunburn to boot.” Remus remembered then that her father, Daniel Ryder, was Gringott’s resident genius in Arithmancy.

When he turned to look at her, Remus got a whiff of her hair; it smelled like fresh strawberries. Forgetting what he was about to say, he instead asked, “Is it a charm that does that?”

Annalise looked up at him, clearly confused. “Does what?”

“Makes your hair smell.” Seeing the look of horror on her face and the growing blush, he added, “It smells wonderful I mean. Strawberries are excellent. I love eating a good tart.”

His words didn’t have the intended effect however, and though the look of horror disappeared, the flush now covered Annalise’s whole face. Olive and Marcy were failing to stifle their giggles. “Er, thanks, Remus.” Annalise turned away from him and focused on her mashed potatoes. Lily was giving him a look of odd amusement.

Bollocks, he thought. Someday, I’ll learn not to speak to women for any reason. No matter what I say, it’s wrong and I look like the greatest git in the world.

Remus’ saving grace was that James and Sirius arrived just then. The rest of dinner passed painlessly enough for Remus until dessert.

“So, Sirius…” Marcy wore what she must have thought was a coy smile. “What are your plans after Hogwarts?”

“Oh you know, the usual… settle down, marry a nice witch and have several dozen kids,” Sirius replied.

Lily snorted into her pumpkin juice. Remus thought he heard her mutter something to the effect of ‘As soon as hell freezes over’ but he wasn’t sure. It could have been that that phrase was on the tip of his own tongue.

“Actually,” said James with a wicked grin, “our Mr. Black has plans to work for the Ministry of Magic, Creatures Department.” Sirius raised a curious eyebrow. “He’ll be shoveling shit out of the paddocks at the Zoomagical Gardens. Sirius figures it’s the least he can do, since so much of it seems to have come out of his own mouth.”

Sirius reached across the table and punched James hard on the shoulder. After a minute, Sirius regained his composure and turned his attentions once more to his female audience. “Really though, I’m hoping to get a job working for the Wizarding Wireless. I think I have the voice of a great announcer, don’t you?”

Rolling his eyes as Olive and Marcy expressed their total agreement, Remus found himself thinking about what life might be like after Hogwarts. As a werewolf, once he was done with school he would have to register himself with the Ministry of Magic on the infamous Tracker’s Tablet. From that moment on, Aurors would be able to know exactly where he was, anywhere in the world. Not that the Ministry didn’t already know, but as an underage wizard attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, his case was a special one. Dumbledore had intervened on his behalf so that Remus would be allowed to attend. For the Ministry’s part, they had requested only that the information be kept secret – it simply wouldn’t do to let parents know they had allowed such a dangerous creature into the student body.

“No,” James said, in answer to a question that Remus hadn’t heard. “I’ve said goodbye to my Quidditch-playing days once school is over, I think.” He wore an amused, crooked grin on his face. “But I do have plans of a sort to work in the industry.”

Lily turned to her boyfriend, eyeing him curiously. “You haven’t mentioned anything of the sort. I’d always thought that you wouldn’t work per se. You have your family’s inheritance after all. I imagined you’d do charity work like your mum did or something political like your dad.”

“You thought wrong, m’dear.” He leaned in and whispered something in her ear. Lily laughed out loud, her tail swaying dangerously behind her. “As for the rest of you,” he continued, “you’ll just have to wait and see.”

Recognizing this was a secret James enjoyed keeping, Remus decided not to press the issue. Lily was now chatting about the letters she was exchanging with the head of the Department of Experimental Charms.

“They’ve offered me a summer internship; if that goes well, they said they’ll have a permanent place for me by the end of next fall.” Lily’s face glowed as she spoke of it. Remus envied her, envied all of them actually. None of them, not even the absent Peter whose marks were marginal to say the least, would have the trouble that he would when applying for a job. People just didn’t see someone that required several days off a month as a reliable worker. Not that hiring a werewolf was an appealing prospect in the first place.

His mother oft said as he was growing up that he would have to put himself above suspicion at every turn. Pleione Lupin had the right idea, although his father always said that she was too hard on their only son. Remus agreed though. He knew that his parents felt the burden of his malady as much as he did. At times, Remus thought they had the worse of it. He was once again grateful for his newborn twin sisters. It would give his parents a chance to raise normal kids and have a normal family life. He never doubted his parents’ love and devotion to him, but he knew how much it had cost them. The Lupins were a middle-class wizarding family, lacking the hereditary fiscal resources of the Potters and the Blacks, and what savings they had had as a young couple had withered away in a fruitless effort to find a cure for Remus’ lycanthropy.

Once more, the giggling of sixth-year girls drew him out of his own thoughts. Marcy Downs was peering around Annalise to look at him. “What about you, Remus?” she asked cordially. “What fairytale life is being written for you?”

“Fairytale, eh?” Remus smiled, hoping that it looked more sarcastic than revealing the sadness he felt. “Didn’t you hear, ladies?” He raised his eyebrows dramatically and winked at Lily. “I’m going to be the Big Bad Wolf.” He roared and lunged playfully across the table at Lily.

Everyone laughed. Those that were in on the joke laughed harder than the three sixth-year girls who dined with them. When he caught Lily’s eye a few moments later though, he knew that she understood what was behind his words. She nodded, offering him a consoling smile.

* * *

“You… have… to… stop… that… right… now…” James attempted to dislodge Lily’s arms from around his chest. Though small in size, Lily was as strong and as stubborn as an Erumpent when she wanted to be. And right now, she wanted to continue kissing that one spot on his neck that she knew drove him totally crackers.

It was the night before the start of Christmas holidays. James needed to pack, and while he was reluctant to put an end to Lily’s amorous advances, he knew where she was heading with this. “Seriously, Lily, enough.”

Lily pulled back, looking into his eyes like a punished puppy. “We won’t see each other for two weeks.” She flashed him a devilish grin. “And I want to make sure you don’t forget me.”

He ran his hand through her fiery red hair. Leaning into her neck, he made sure that she felt the heat of his breath as he spoke: “Do you really think I could ever forget you, Lily? You’re the reason I get up every morning… and the reason I never seem to get enough sleep at night.”

She pressed her cheek to his. “You know it’s been almost a year that we’ve been dating, James. There’s no reason that I couldn’t ensure that you get no sleep at all tonight.”

James pulled back, shaking his head with a tired smile on his face. “We’ve talked about this, Lily. You know my feelings on the subject.”

The witch clucked and pulled out of his embrace entirely. “Really though, James. It's so old fashioned.” She started to pace around his room. “Back home, people would find it shocking to know that we hadn’t slept together yet.”

“This isn’t the Muggle world, Lily dear. And for the record, the lads think it’s a bit of a joke that I won’t have sex as well.” He tapped his forefinger to his temple, almost impatiently. “The moral system is different here. It’s different for me. We’ve talked about this before.”

Lily moved in front of him, taking his hands into hers. She stared deep into his eyes for a long moment. Seeing himself reflected in her brilliant green eyes made his knees feel weak. “James, I love you. You love me. There’s nothing wrong with it. There are potions and charms to prevent any accidents happening while we’re at school. Please, don’t make me beg. I want to be with you, to enjoy every part of you in the fullest sense.”

He shook his head again, and pulled her into a tight embrace. “I do love you Lily, and that’s why I won’t do it. I don’t love you just for today or for tonight. I want to have you forever. I want to marry you.”

She shuddered in his arms. If he wasn’t careful, she’d start to cry. “I know, I know… and that’s what I want, too, but I don’t see why we have to wait…”

“We have to wait,” James said slowly, “because it's what I was taught was the right thing to do. Because I don’t want to shag some girl with the whole of Gryffindor Tower ready to burst in on us at any time. I want my first time to be with my wife in our own bed on our wedding night.” He ran his hand through her hair again. “That’s not too much to ask, is it?”

Lily sighed and then chuckled softly. “Oh James, if you only knew…” She pulled back, staring him in the eye. “How do you do it? I have absolutely no willpower when it comes to your charms.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed…” She punched him playfully in the stomach. “With a witch as beautiful as you, believe me it's hard. Pun fully intended.” He went over to his trunk, and set himself to packing. “Plans all set with ‘Lise then?”

Nodding, Lily took a seat at the end of his bed. “Yes, we’re meeting in Diagon Alley on Boxing Day. Since her sister’s apartment is in Hogsmeade, you won’t see me on the train back. We’ll be walking to Hogwarts at the start of the new term.”

“Maybe Sirius and I will Floo over for a visit,” he said, trying to decide if he should bring his Potions textbook with him. Their new professor, Igor Karkaroff, had assigned a whole mess of work for the holidays. Holding the book in his hands, he addressed Lily once more. “Did you know that Sirius’ brother returned his Christmas gift? Regulus didn’t even have the bollocks to do it himself. He had their cousin Narcissa do it during the last Potions class.”

“I saw that. He looked really rough around the edges afterwards.” Sirius Black had moved out of his ancestral home during the Easter holiday the previous year. His family was notoriously obsessed with pureblood lineage and was rumored to practice the Dark Arts. Sirius may have been nothing but trouble for women, James mused, but he was no dark wizard. Sirius hated everything his family stood for and had hoped that his younger brother would rise above the rest of his Slytherin housemates and do the right thing. His best friend’s hopes were fading fast. The note attached to the returned gift had called Sirius a blood-traitor.

“Total git, that one.” James tried to shrug off his anger. “Ah well, Sirius and I will have the run of Dumbledore’s manor down in Leeds. Albus said that he probably wouldn’t get back there at all during the hols.”

Lily stood up and crossed over to him. She pulled him down to her for a very long and heated kiss. “I better go pack myself,” she said when she finally broke away. “Take care, love, and save me a spot on the train tomorrow morning.” She swatted him teasingly on the butt as she turned to leave.

“You’re irrepressible, you know that?” James found that he was sad to see her go. They hadn’t spent this much time apart since summer hols.

“I know that you wouldn’t have me any other way,” said Lily as she closed his door behind her.

Putting his Potions book into his trunk, James wondered if the sly red-haired witch knew just how right she was.

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author’s Notes: Many thanks to Elucreh for the fantastic job as a beta and to all the people that nagged me to continue the story. More timely updates to come! Love goes out to my husband and Cedar, who are always there to listen to me whinge about writing.

Chapter Two

Three Wise Men walk into a Bar…

“Actually, Petunia,” Lily’s voice was nearly a growl, but she somehow managed to keep a sweet sound to it as her father turned his eyes pleadingly towards her. “Witch begins with a ‘w’, not a ‘b’.”

Across the table, Petunia sucked in a breath sharply. Her husband, a coarse Muggle named Vernon Dursley, threw his napkin down. “Now see here,” he said, flaring at his father-in-law. His great mustache waggled wildly, looking to Lily as if it were trying to flee for its life from his mouth, “Petunia said that if we spent the holidays with you, that none of her abnormalities would ruin the spirit.” He sneered in Lily’s direction, and her giant fox tail attempted to lunge across the table at him. “But no sooner do we arrive than her freakish nature becomes painfully apparent.” He rubbed a small lump on the back of his head; not ten minutes ago, during a tense but relatively peaceful meal, Lily’s tail had wiggled its way free from its bindings on her leg and thrown a bowl of cranberries at her brother-in-law.

Her father, Charles Evans, stood up and anger flashed on his weary face. He looked as if he had aged ten years since the loss of his wife the previous fall. Lily’s parents had always brokered the peace between their daughters, but left alone to the task, her father seemed to be losing the war. That was why she had tied her tail into the most uncomfortable position possible on her leg, to keep it from being seen and from being the latest excuse for her sister to lash out at her. “Vernon, you will apologize to Lily this instant. There is nothing abnormal, freakish or in any way, shape, or form wrong with my youngest child.” Petunia clucked and started to speak, but Charles held up a firm hand. “If you cannot do that, on this night when we all should be forgiving, then I want you to leave.”

Seconds turned into hours as Vernon stared between his wife and her father, never sparing a glance for Lily. Finally, he stood up, extending a hand to his wife. “Come, Pet, let’s go home.” They walked in silence out of the dining room. Lily could just see Vernon holding out Petunia’s coat from where she sat at her father’s right.

“…so sorry, dear. It’s so shameful. One would hope that there was a group out there to take care of her kind, but they’re allowed to roam free, like regular people.” Petunia kissed her husband on the cheek and slammed the door behind her as they left.

“Dad, I…” She struggled feebly for the right words to say. She was grateful that her father had stood up for her, but ashamed that it had been her blasted tail that had started the fight in the first place. She swirled the wine around in her glass, then swallowed it in one brave gulp. “I’m so sorry, Dad—“

“Save it, dear,” He poured her another glass of wine, as well as a fresh one for himself. “It wasn’t your fault; Petunia’s been itching for a fight since I told her you were coming home from school for the holidays. I had hoped I could have one last holiday with both my girls… Somewhere along the way, though, you both grew into very different women.” Lily thought she saw a tear in the corner of his eye. “Well, next year you’ll have your own place. Perhaps I’ll just get to enjoy two Christmas hams instead of one, then.” His eyes crinkled as he smiled at her.

Her tail slinked over to where Charles sat at the head of the table and looped itself around his arm. Lily opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the excited hooting of an owl. Circe, her black sooty owl, flew into the room and perched on Petunia’s empty chair. She leaned down and picked at Petunia’s half-eaten ham happily. Lily laughed as her tail slid back to her, encircling her waist and giving her a hug of sorts.

“I’ll call Petunia in the morning and try to make things right, Dad.” Oddly, she felt more at home with Circe there. Whenever she spent any time with the Dursleys, it always left her in a black mood. She wondered whether, if she spent enough time with them, she wouldn’t start to believe that something was actually wrong with her. She couldn’t imagine what life would be like if her parents had taken after their eldest daughter. She shared only one thing with her sister now: the hope that Petunia would never give birth to a magical child.

Her father was shaking his head. “Don’t bother, dear; I know you mean well, but it will just infuriate her more. Once you’ve gone to Annalise’s flat, I’ll make amends.” He stood up and carved a slice of ham, laying it in front of Circe. “If I don’t, your Mum will come back and haunt me for the rest of my days.” Something in his eyes told Lily that he might not mind that one bit. “Just remember, dear,” His eyes took on a serious look, “you can’t choose your family, but sometimes,” he nodded towards Circe. “Sometimes a family chooses you.”

* * *

“Remus Lupin, get your sisters off the ceiling this instant!” Pleione stepped into the living room, wearing an apron that was covered with tiny Christmas trees and flour. However, the look on her face did not express much seasonal joy, and Remus quickly performed a charm to return his twin sisters, Kestrel and Paulise, to the carpet.

Paulise cooed gently as she tumbled off the ceiling, but her sister was not of the same mind. Kes had been diligently poking at a ball of mistletoe that hung off the archway to the kitchen when she was returned to the floor and she wasn’t happy about it at all. Kes balled up her tiny hands into fists and swung at the nearest object, which happened to be her father, Eamonn.

“Cor, that one packs a punch… Think we could get her into one of those underground baby boxing rings?” Eamonn winked at his son through a lock of grey hair. He turned to his wife, who was heading back to the kitchen. “Pleione, you need to relax. Its only your mam and da coming tomorrow; it’s not like we’re being inspected by the Ministry of Magic.”

Silence his only answer, Eamonn sighed, shaking his head and turned his attention to Remus, who was cradling Paulise on his lap and distracting the babe with a series of sparks from the end of his wand. “Pay no attention to her, son. We’re glad you’re home.”

“I know that, Da.” Remus’ smile turned to a smirk as the indomitable Kes crawled towards him. Kes reached out and tried to grasp hold of a string of blue sparkles, confused when her little hand returned nothing but air. Paulise giggled at her sister from her spot on Remus’ lap. “It’s their first Christmas, I wouldn’t dream of missing it. I still can’t believe how much they’ve grown since summer. I’m just glad they still remember me.”

Eamonn pulled a pipe out of the pocket of his robe, lighting it with the tip of his wand. He drew in a long breath and when he blew the smoke out, it smelled just like Christmas cookies to Remus. Remus raised a curious eyebrow at his father.

“Ah, that.” Eamonn rolled his eyes to the kitchen. “Your mam said that if I wanted to partake of my ‘nasty Muggle addiction’, I would have to alter the scent to match the season.” He took another drag on the pipe, closing his eyes to savor the taste. “First I charmed it to smell like a Christmas tree, but that made Pleione sneeze, so here we are.”

Smiling, Remus bounced Paulise on his lap, his heart warming whenever the nine-month-old giggled. Part of him wished that his mother hadn’t made his dad change the smell. The smell of his father’s pipe was connected with so many good, comforting memories for him. This might be Kes and Paulise’s first Christmas, but in many ways, it was Remus’ last… his last as a child, at least. Next year, he’d be out of school, a true adult working in the Wizarding world. At least, that was the hope of his parents. Remus wasn’t as hopeful. He knew that as soon as his name was registered as a werewolf, many doors would be closed for him. It was a scary thing to face for a young wizard. No matter how many N.E.W.Ts he achieved, that one word, werewolf, would change everything.

The sound of music filtered in from the kitchen. Kes stopped torturing the corner of a chair and turned to listen, as did everyone in the room. Pleione Lupin had a beautiful soprano voice, and as she moved into the chorus of ‘Silent Night’, a lump settled in Remus’ throat.

All is calm,

All is bright.

The twins were perfectly still, enthralled by the sweet sound of their mother’s voice. His father sat in his chair, his eyes closed. Eamonn mouthed the words to the song silently as he smoked his pipe.

Remus bowed his head; a lock of his wiry brown hair caressed his nose. Not knowing exactly why, Remus began to cry.

* * *

Peter would have given all the gold in Gringott’s to be anywhere rather than where he was. Surrounded by his family for their Yule celebration, he felt more alone than he ever had before in his life. History of Magic class would have been preferable to this; at least, he told himself, if he were there, he wouldn’t have to feign interest, let alone happiness.

He was the youngest of the four children that Marabeth and Alvin Pettigrew had produced, and by his own account, Peter was turning out to be the most disappointing. Unlike his siblings, he would have no jobs waiting for him once he finished at Hogwarts. Truth be told, most days Peter couldn’t see beyond the next few hours. Ever since the attacks that had put him into a magical coma last year, the youngest Pettigrew had been trapped in the here and now, in an eternal waking nightmare that never seemed to end.

He set down his glass of eggnog and tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. He couldn’t recall the last time he had actually fallen asleep. Every three or four days, he would simply pass out from pure exhaustion, only to be awakened by horrible dreams of torture. All he wanted was a bit of peace, and as he saw his eldest brother slip into the kitchen, Peter finally saw a chance to get it. He grabbed his glass and made for the kitchen, mumbling to his mum in passing that he needed a refill.

Bradford Pettigrew was a mirror image of his younger brother, but whereas Bradford looked young for his thirty-eight years, Peter looked old for his seventeen. Bradford turned around as Peter approached, and Peter could see the too- familiar look of worry crossing his brother’s face.

Forcing a smile, Peter attempted to be casual. “How’s work at the apothecary going, ‘Ford?”

“Just fine. We expect to have a whole new line of fungal encouragement potions available at the start of the New Year.” He reached up and opened a cupboard, his eyes scanning its contents. Eventually he pulled down a box of biscuits and offered one to Peter before continuing. “You look just awful, Peter… N.E.W.T. preparations have you overworked?”

“Yeah,” replied Peter, scratching nervously at his nose. “It’s horrible. I’m so nervous about it that I can’t sleep.” He stuck a hand into the pocket of his robes and crossed his fingers, hoping against hope that his brother would believe him. “Listen, ‘Ford, I was wondering if you could get me another batch of dreamless sleep potion for this next term. I reckon I’m going to need to be well rested if I want to survive it. I mean, if I don’t do well on my N.E.W.T.s, what kind of future will I have?”

Bradford considered his brother for a moment, and then frowned. “We talked about this over the summer, Peter. You can’t rely on a potion like that to keep your life ‘normal’. You were using too much of it.” Peter opened his mouth to protest, but Bradford held up a hand and pressed on. “It would be irresponsible of me as an apothecary and, more importantly, as your brother. to let this continue.”

“This is different, though, I swear. I’m over all that stuff from last year. I just want to do well in school,” he lied, clenching his hand tightly around his glass of eggnog. “Seriously, ‘Ford, be a mate and help me out.”

Bradford shook his head. “No, Peter. If you want it that badly, you’ll have to learn to make it yourself.” He pushed past Peter and made to leave the room. “I won’t tell Mum about this conversation, but if you ask me again, I will. And you know what she’ll have to say.”

A rush of anger flooded his body as Peter broke the glass he was holding. He had to hurry to clean up the mess before it was noticed. “Merry Fucking Christmas, and bollocks to the New Year…”

* * *

“Oy! Alice! There’s an odd smell coming from the oven.” Annalise crinkled her nose and attempted to waft the scent away from her. The chair she was sitting in was right next to the kitchen and after several moments of enduring the smell of burnt something, she picked up her books and moved to the other side of the room. As she stretched out on the floor, she knew her lower back would regret this decision in the morning, but for now it was the lesser of two evils.

Alice Ryder burst out of the loo, jumping over her sister as she clambered to get to the kitchen. “Bloody, buggering bubotubers!” she swore as Annalise watched her snatch a pan full of pumpkin muffins out of the oven. “These are totally ruined.” There was a defeated sound to her voice as she chucked burnt pastries into the bin. “Sorry ‘Lise, but I just can’t make them like Mum used to.”

Annalise propped herself up on her elbows and turned to Alice, giving her a comforting smile. “Pumpkin muffins aren’t what makes Christmas morning great, Alice. I’m just happy to be here with you. It’s not like you had to take me in for the hols, you know.” She threw her sister a sly wink. “A young attractive future-Auror such as yourself must be having to beat the eligible wizards off with her wand.” She paused for a moment, and her grinned widened. “As Lily would say, my being here must be cramping your style.”

Alice looked around her cluttered apartment and guffawed. “Unless ‘rubbish’ is the new style, I don’t think so. And it’s not like the last year of Auror training leaves much time for dates, ‘Lise.”

“Oh, come now,” chided Annalise with a smile. “Is that the real reason? Or are you just having trouble keeping a bloke about once they realize that you’re an Empath?”

With a frown, Alice puffed out her cheeks and nodded. ”Maybe… My superiors have said that having an Empath around for interrogations is essential for the Auror Division, but the fact that I can pick up on moods just by touching people seems to… well, bother my fellow cadets. If I accidentally brush up against someone, they act as if a Dementor just entered the room.” Alice threw the oven mitts onto the floor in frustration. “If I’d listened to Mum and gone into healing, I wouldn’t have this problem…”

“Sod Mum. She didn’t want you to join the St. Mungo’s team because you could help people, she wanted you to do it because it was more prestigious than joining the Auror Division.” Annalise wrinkled her nose in disgust and slammed her book shut. “We’re better off without her. If she thinks that we’ll still just be her little dolls to pose and play with after what she put Dad through—“

“She’s still our Mum, ‘Lise.” Alice stepped over and took her sisters hand in her own. “I don’t have to be an Empath to feel how angry you still are at her. But it’s been eight years since the divorce, and now that you’re nearly an adult, it’s time for you to realize that it wasn’t all Mum’s fault. Dad’s never been an easy wizard to live with…”

“Please don’t defend her, not now.” There was an air of finality to the young witch’s voice. “Let’s just forget about her and her shiny new family. She doesn’t want us there and I don’t want her here.” She rested her head on Alice’s shoulder, her brown hair mixing with her sister’s blond tresses. “And since Dad can’t be here… let’s enjoy the fact that it’s just us girls, the Ryder sisters.”

Alice turned slightly and kissed Annalise on the forehead. “A nice, quiet Christmas sounds just wonderful.”

There was a loud crash and the door to the apartment shuddered. Startled, the girls clambered around until they found their respective wands. Alice put one finger to her lips and with her other hand, gestured for her sister to get down on the floor. Annalise nodded in understanding as her sister approached the door. Attacks against those that supported the Ministry and opposed the Dark Lord were increasing every week, and the loss of some dear family friends over the summer had taught Annalise to err on the side of caution and obey her sister’s instincts in these matters.

Alice approached the door slowly and silently. There was another bang followed by a trio of crashes and a stream of curse words that would make a banshee blush. Alice stopped dead in her tracks and then shook her head, trying to stifle a laugh.

“Oy, Ryder! Hurry up and let me in. It’s freezing out here and I’ve been flying for ten hours straight,” called a deep female voice that was not unfamiliar to Annalise. While Annalise frowned at it however, Alice smiled and opened the door.

Standing in the doorway was a tall, lanky witch with short black hair. She wore a scowl on her face and stormed into the apartment carrying three suitcases and levitating four other boxes and a broomstick behind her. Her clothes were completely unsuited for a British winter; instead, she looked as if she had just returned from a safari; under a traveling cloak of sheer linen, she wore a white Muggle tee shirt and long khaki pants.

With a swirl of her wand, she directed her bags and boxes to settle along the wall and then, with a growl, collapsed onto the sofa and covered her face with the nearest cushion.

“Happy Christmas, Cat.” Alice shut the door, giving a consoling smile and nod to Annalise before rounding on their new guest. “What the hell are you doing here?”

* * *

“You’re nutters!” James goggled at Sirius, wishing that his oldest and dearest friend had not just told him his ‘brilliant plan’.

They sat in the attic of Albus Dumbledore’s manor, surrounded by boxes of old wizards’ robes. It was only in seeing this attic, and all the things that the headmaster of Hogwarts had accumulated, that James felt he could really grasp the age of the man. Boxes were stacked neatly and labeled by decade (which, James supposed, reflected the style of an age) and color. The box that Sirius was diving into at the moment was labeled ‘1890s – Scandalous Red’.

Sirius waved away James’s dismay with an unflustered hand. “It’s a wonderful idea. We’ll have a blast and really, James, think of all the joy it will bring to the children!”

“No, absolutely not. It’s practically Muggle-baiting, plus I’d be putting my status as an unregistered Animagus on display.” A small voice in his head nagged at him whenever he had to say no to Sirius. James enjoyed a bit of danger, and loved breaking rules… so long as no one got hurt. But more and more, Sirius’s ideas of fun weren’t just breaking school rules, but flouncing in the face of Wizarding law.

“I swear you took on the wrong Animagi form, Potter. Chicken would have been more appropriate.” Sirius jostled the robes in the box around, and with a loud whoop, James knew that Sirius had found what he was looking for.

James groaned as Sirius held up a floor length red velvet robe that was trimmed at the collar, cuffs and hems with white ermine.

“Come on, mate! All the transfigurations I need are a cinch – white beard, fat belly – but you know that I’d never be a believable Father Christmas without a reindeer.” There was an almost sad, pleading look in Sirius’s eyes now.

James regarded him carefully. “Tell the truth now; why do you really want to go down to the Muggle village and parade about as St. Nicholas on Christmas day? What’s in it for you, Black? You’re not going to beg for biscuits and milk are you?”

Sirius grabbed a handful of twine that had been binding the boxes shut and quickly transfigured it into a harness that was sized perfectly for a stag, complete with bells and Christmas ribbons. Handing the harness to James, Sirius replied, “This is my first Christmas away from my family, away from that horrible house. I want to see all the Muggle families running around and being happy. I want to see a merry Christmas for once.” A slight color rose in his cheeks, but Sirius continued his confessional unabashedly. “I’m ready to see everything I missed all these years.”

The room grew quiet, and an owl could be heard hooting softly somewhere outside.

“Right then,” James stood, and then reached down to offer Sirius a hand up. “But I swear, if you try and ride me, no witch will ever want to be seen with you up at the Astronomy Tower ever again.”

“Done deal,” said Sirius with a wicked grin. “Now, I’ve been reading some Muggle Christmas stories… Do you mind if I paint your nose red?”

* * *

A set of bells jangled on the door as they entered the wand maker’s shop. Lily held the door for Annalise, who was shivering from the cold. They had spent most of the afternoon breezing in and out of the shops of Diagon Alley and the temperature changes were starting to wear on both of them.

Thankfully, Lily mused, this would be their last stop of the day, and then they could Floo home to Alice Ryder’s apartment.

The girls set their bags down; Annalise took a seat and picked up an old, tattered copy of Witch Weekly while Lily scanned down the aisles for Mr. Ollivander.

“Hello?” she called out as she took off her mittens.

“Ah, Miss Evans… I had a feeling I’d be seeing you again, though not this soon. Curious.” Mr. Ollivander stepped out from an office at the back of the store and slowly made his way towards her. “I guessed that you would grow to need a different wand, but I didn’t expect to have to provide you with another while you were still in school.”

Lily’s mouth dropped open; her mind had filled with hundreds of questions as to the whys and hows of what Mr. Ollivander did and didn’t know… but then she remembered the note that Dumbledore had given her. She reached into her pocket and offered it to him.

He read the note over several times, glancing oddly at Lily between each reading. The magical tape measure that had taken her wand measurements so many years ago fidgeted restlessly on the counter, as if it itched to get to work. Finally, he said, “Well, that changes everything then, doesn’t it?” and went rushing back towards the office that he had emerged from not moments before.

Lily turned and looked at Annalise, who just shrugged. “My grandmum always said that he was a nutter, but then, you’d have to be a bit of a daredevil to take up wand making… what with all the explosions and disappearances.”

Before she could reply, a box was banged on the counter in front of her. Mr. Ollivander stood behind it once more, with a very amused look on his face.

“Wood from a sacred cherry tree in Yorkshire, nine inches, MacGuffin hair core. Not a wand to be trifled with, no, not one bit. A very challenging wand, Miss Evans, for a young witch who will face very great challenges.” There was something almost sad in his eyes, as if this wasn’t the sort of news he liked to give.

Lily looked over her shoulder to Annalise, who looked just as puzzled as she did. Feeling as ignorant as she had during her first long-ago trip to this store, she sheepishly asked, “But sir, what is a MacGuffin? I’ve never heard of such a creature.”

Amusement flickered across his eyes once more. “MacGuffins were a species of Scottish lions. They were hunted to extinction several thousand years ago by the earliest magical inhabitants of the isles.” Patting her on the hand, he continued. “Don’t be surprised that you’ve never heard of them. Most witches and wizards your age have no interest in zooimagical archaeology.”

“What were the magical properties of the MacGuffin, Mr. Ollivander?” Lily glanced down at the box with a new respect, shocked that something so rare and precious was to be hers. She had always considered herself a very ordinary witch, regardless of any praise from her professors at school. With a bolt of realization, she realized that this was likely going to cost a great deal more than she had expected. She wondered if she even had enough money for the wand.

“Ah yes, hmm,” he said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. “I believe they had the ability to turn invisible, which was part of the reason they were hunted, of course. For their pelts, you see.”

Annalise tilted her head, looking rather confused. “But sir, if they could turn invisible, how could anyone be sure they were extinct? And it just doesn’t seem possible, that if they were so sought after, that there would still be hairs around to make a wand with…”

A look of mild annoyance crossed Mr. Ollivander’s face, as he waved Annalise’s objections away. “Miss Ryder, have you ever seen a lion living in Scotland?” Annalise shook her head and Mr. Ollivander nodded. He waved the Headmaster’s note in the air, “According to this, there is only one sort of wand Miss Evans could use. One finds in this business that materials have a way of making themselves available when they are needed.”

No one said anything for a moment, and then the elderly wand maker turned back to Lily.

“Be very, very careful with this, Miss Evans. Not only are MacGuffin wands impossibly rare, but they are very hard to use.” He took the lid of the box and handed the cherry wood wand to her gingerly. “Give it a wave, dear, but don’t be surprised if nothing happens. These wands not only choose the witch, they take their sweet time getting used to you as well. Consequently, no one but you will be able to cast with this wand.”

Lily picked the wand up, rolling it about in her hand until she had a feel for it. Behind her, the foxtail twitched nervously under her cloak. She mulled her options over in her mind, opting finally to go with a simple spell and then work her way up the ladder as it were. She took a deep breath, and with a swirl of the wand said, “Lumos!”

Nothing happened at first, but after a moment of intense concentration Lily made the end of the wand sputtered with light. A few seconds later the light stopped flickering and remained lit until Lily whispered “Nox”. Annalise let out a small whoop, and clapped Lily on the back. Setting the wand back into its box, Lily turned to Mr. Ollivander with a smile.

“Wonderful, I don’t know how to thank you and Professor Dumbledore for this. I haven’t been able to do that spell for weeks without something turning blue.” Lily gestured to her cloak, which was indeed a spectacular, almost Ravenclaw-type blue. “How much do I owe you, sir?”

Mr. Ollivander put the box into a small brown paper bag and shook his head. “No charge, Miss Evans. The price of the wand has been covered by Professor Dumbledore; this is my way of repaying an old debt to him.” Lily opened her mouth to protest, but he raised a hand to silence her. “There is nothing else to be said about it. However, I wouldn’t mind if you stopped back in after the school term to tell me how the wand has worked out for you. It is… so rare that anyone can use a MacGuffin wand that I’m curious as to the long term results.”

“Absolutely, sir. And thank you again.” Lily took the paper bag from him and left the shop with Annalise not far behind.

“Wow,” Annalise looked at Lily with a bit of awe. “And here I thought that wand was going to cost you a hundred galleons the way he talked about it…”

“I know!” exclaimed Lily, who couldn’t have looked more surprised if she had just won Witch Weekly’s Most Charming Smile award. “Odd, though, that I’ll be the only one that can use it. I’ll have to look up MacGuffins when I get back to the school. Perhaps they are like crups and have magical loyalties.” Lily stopped in her tracks. “You know, ‘Lise, I really have to find some way to say thank you to Dumbledore and I’ve just had a brilliant idea. There is a Muggle sweet shop about four blocks from the Leaky Cauldron… I know that you’re dead tired, but do you think we could swing by there? James is always on about how the Headmaster fancies Muggle sweets. It would only be a minute.”

Annalise smiled. “No problem, Lil. I’m willing to heave these bags around for a bit more in the name of a good cause.” She swung a bag full of books over her shoulder in what, at any other time, would have been a sign of solidarity; but, at that particular moment, Peter Pettigrew was standing just behind her.

“Ow!” he shouted, and a stream of impolite words soon followed. The girls clucked over him for a few moments until it was clear that any injuries wouldn’t leave permanent damage. But Lily stared at Peter with continued worry as he and Annalise chatted about their respective Christmas dinners and presents. She’d seen pictures of healthier looking vampires, quite frankly, and she wondered what could be done about it. It was no secret that Peter had had problems sleeping since his attack last year, but nothing seemed to help.

“Just come from the Apothecary, then?” inquired Annalise with a glance at the packages he was carrying.

Peter shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “Yeah, had a bunch of potions to pick up for my Mum; she, uh, likes to keep the house well stocked at this time of year, what with all the grandchildren running about.”

“You know, I always wondered what a medi-witch would keep in cupboard. Do you mind if I?” Grabbing a bag from him, Annalise looked at the contents and frowned. “Peter, there’s nothing but Dreamless Sleep potions in here. What, is your Mum planning on keeping the whole family sedated?”

Peter grabbed the bag back from her, with an almost angry look in his eyes. “Dunno, I just took the list and picked it up, didn’t I?”

Lily opened her mouth to say something, but Peter was already making his hasty goodbyes. Once he had scuttled out of sight, Annalise said, “Now that was odd.”

“No,” Lily said, thinking that she was going to have to have a long chat with James about Peter, “that was a disaster waiting to happen.”

* * *

Nearly an hour had passed since their encounter with Peter and Annalise’s feet were much the worse for wear. Rather than being four blocks from the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron, the Muggle sweet shop that Lily dragged her to had been nearly a mile away. The afternoon was growing long as they approached the pub that acted as a buffer between the Muggle and Wizarding worlds, and Annalise was grateful that the comfort of her sister’s apartment was only a handful of Floo powder away.

Both girls were sniffling, noses on the verge of running rampant. Snow was starting to fall and it clouded their eyes. Both of them were pushing wayward strands of hair out of their faces. A gust of warm air hit them as Lily opened the door to the Leaky Cauldron. Annalise rushed inside.

“Pardon me, lass,” said an elderly witch, addressing Lily who still held the door. “Would you be a dear and keep that open for me? My old bones would dearly appreciate it.”

Lily nodded, and Annalise was about to ask the woman if she needed any help when a man in dark Muggle clothing approached her from behind. Annalise smiled at him, thinking he was going to assist the old lady.

The scream of pain that the witch let out a moment later, however, tore the smile from Annalise’s face. The old woman arched back as the man pulled his knife out, and then, before anyone in the pub had a chance to react, the stranger reached around and stabbed her in the heart. Screams echoed from every corner of the pub and at least half a dozen people fumbled for their wands as the assailant withdrew his knife once more and made a dash for the door that a shocked Lily Evans was still holding open.

“Exodus 22:18!” shouted the man as he disappeared into the streets of Muggle London. “Exodus 22:18!”

Blood ran down the old witch’s robes, and with every second that passed, her eyes became glassier. Confused witches and wizards tried in vain to cast spells to staunch the bleeding and heal her, but nothing worked. The pub was a flurry of activity and anger; the girls pulled away and huddled against a wall.

Annalise was crying and shaking uncontrollably, but Lily remained stoic and put an arm around the younger girl. “Calm down, ‘Lise. The Aurors are here now; it will all be okay soon. We’re safe.”

“But Lily, what did he mean? Who was he? Who could do such a thing? What was that that he shouted, some bible reference?”

Lily nodded solemnly. “It was. I think I even remember the line, Petunia used to taunt me with it… Thou shall not suffer a witch to live.” A fair-haired young Auror approached them as Lily whispered, “And I think that means that the killer was a Muggle.”