RP: Sleep, perchance to dream, ay, there's the rub
Date: December 25, 2004
Characters: Ginny Weasley
Location: House on 2nd & River
Status: Private
Summary: Ginny dreams of her coma and how she first met Andromeda Tonks.
Completion: Complete
“…this was, of course, before the evacuation and attack.”
Ginny heard the blonde wizard in her head, in her dream and his words lapped at the edges of her consciousness, pushing and cresting against the languid, sated hum of her body lying beside Jack’s, her thoughts falling backwards into darkness, away from the curl of his rough hand on the back of her thigh, down and down, into the depths of her mind, returning to a place she’d thought herself free from, leaving behind the security of now and diving into then.
~~~
The sounds were fading again, steps retreating in singular, soft echoes that spoke in a language all it’s own, whispering of dismissal, abandonment and betrayal.
I’m here.
A thump in the distance signaled an end to the haunting murmurs of life just beyond reach. She felt them, touching her, turning her body, fingers and the swirling press of their unmistakable identities against her soft flesh, bruising and marking. Beating out the undeniable message of her expatriation from life.
Kisa sleep too late. Pavel vant you vake. Havink life to beink livink.
I can’t, Pavel. You don’t understand. They won’t hear me. There’s nothing I can do.
Kisa not trying. Disappointink Pavel… again.
You left me. You broke your promise and you left me all alone.
A clatter erupted nearby, the vibrant collision of glass and metal, a scuffle of inharmonious notes in a symphony of deafening silence. She could feel her body, feel her toes and fingers, reaching out insistently to move them, to signal whomever was out there that she was in here. Her faith rewarded her with a lie, the tomfoolery of her mind providing the mental acknowledgement of something that never happened, a phantom reassurance of the nonexistent.
In the darkness, she sobbed with a relief that was unjustified, lying unmoving on the crisp, white sheets. Shadows of light played across the insides of her eyelids and she tracked the flickers of actuality with a rending sorrow, her heart fluttering with the uneven beat of hopelessness.
”I can hear you breathing, little witch.”
You’re dead. I killed you… you don’t scare me.
Did you? Are you sure? I’m right here, you know, with you.
A warmth crawled up from her ankle, the press of a hand curling around her ankle and a soft, determined chuckle filtered past the abject, shivering terror that gripped her as she willed herself to move, to get away.
You can’t move, little witch. It’s just you and me now and I can do anything I want to you.
You’re dead! Stop… don’t… you can’t…
Oh, but I can, little witch. I can…
Darkness welled up, pushing out the gray, the sounds around her fading away until there was nothing left but his voice and his touch, a phantom hand crawling up her leg and she couldn’t get away, couldn’t move, couldn’t scream. Dear Merlin, she couldn’t scream. A dim part of her brain casually wondered of she’d been Imperio’d, superceding her memory of the sickening, wet splinters of sound in the gritty shadows of the ward, overriding the agonizing thud of thick, broken cement against her shoulders and head driving her to the floor beneath it.
A flicker of memory danced just beyond reach, waltzing along the fringes of her sanity only to burst forth, throwing her back with the vivid intensity of blue… determined… fierce… hiding and not… the memory dipped and swayed, rolling away now and she was left panting in fear and exhilaration… the thoughts… Pavel? No, not Pavel… Where? Come back! No, don’t… don’t go out… what? The haze returned, fogging over any glimpse of awareness, shrouding the feeling of hope she’d had, the sudden leaping feeling of relief gone, ripped away as suddenly as the vision has found her and she sank further then she’d ever before, finding a dim comfort in the familiar pain and bone-rending sorrow.
“I’m growing tired of waiting, kitten. You know this will go easier on you if you just give up.”
I’m trying, you son of a bitch. I’m trying.
And she was, trapped and alone, wanting nothing more than to die. To leave this pain and terror behind, find her father… he’d stop this… this would leave her if she could only go… Merlin, she just wanted to be over, to stop hurting, to be released from this prison. She could feel him, against her, pressing down on her, hands, legs, mouth, his hot, moist breath against her neck, the rise of her breast, the dip of her hip and she tried, Merlin, she tried… to scream, to push him away, to wake or die.
Despair and him… they were her constant companions, one unbidden and the other unwelcome but always, always there and pain, oh sweet fucking, unforgiving Merlin, the pain… why hadn’t they healed her? Fucking hell, what did they want from her? She couldn’t go away… Trapped under the cold fold of antiseptic smelling blankets that scratched at her, minute fibers dragging across her skin as they moved her.
“Tell me your name, kitten, and I promise I won’t hurt you… too much.”
You know my name. I told you before I killed you.
She remembered it with painful clarity, telling herself how impossible it was that he was there, that he couldn’t be, that she’d remembered it all, how sweaty her hands were as she gripped the metal chair, the sharp pain in her arm as she swung the heavy stool, the brazenly loud scraping of metal against the floor as it arched into his head.
Her mind was playing tricks, yes. That had to be it. He couldn’t be a spirit. There was no way for a haunt to be here. She knew but she remembered the deafeningly, horrifying echo of metal against bone, the wet, sucking vibrations of intonation that rang out again and again and again.
So rude for a pure blood… blood traitor… filthy little blood traitor… shall I teach you manners, little witch?
Go to hell.
If I go, I’m taking you with me, little witch. You’ll be mine forever… my very own little toy witch…
They’ll find a …
What? A way to reach you? No. I don’t think they will, Ginny. They gave up before they even tried. You’ll rot here, rot away in this sterile, cold white box right under their prejudiced, unseeing eyes. They don’t want to see you, you know. They don’t even look at you anymore. Their eyes just pass over you as if you didn’t exist. I’m all you have, little witch, and you’re all I want. My reward for finding you.
Finding me… no… that’s not possible! You can’t… oh bloody hell…
If she could have sobbed, if only she could have shivered in fear, her life to be able to flinch away from his sickening words, his velvety promises of eternity trapped in this hellish prison of her own pain-racked body and tortured mind. Any whimper that might have existed in the real world was silenced at her unmoving lips, echoing in the ethereal planes of her unconscious mind as it clawed away at her sanity one horrifying whisper after another from the demented spirit.
”…has she been like this?”
”…nths. The resident on staff says there’s nothing wrong with her. She just doesn’t want to wake up.”
”…mency? I’ve heard the practice has had some positive results in America.”
”…tried. Said it was a mess in there. Couldn’t make sense of most of it… poor girl had some bad run ins… her memories are locked away… she’s reliving something but they don’t know what.”
”…be something good. They say patients do that… their minds access a happier place and they don’t want to leave.”
A phantom shiver played down her body, existing only in the dim recesses of her mind but giving her false hope. Her mind lashed out in fury, in agony and desperation, a soft leap of her heart as it thumped steadily beneath the pain, plodding mindlessly on, pumping her life-giving blood to keep her alive, ignorant of her wishes and silent screams.
NO! No, dear Merlin, no! I need to…
And you thought I lied to you, little witch. I don’t have to, you see. You lie to yourself just as they lie to each other.
Her mind whimpered, cringing away from his voice, searching about frantically for some way to silence him, to get away and then the darkness flooded in once more, pulling her down below the surface, dragging her under the waves of light and into the cold, empty pit below where her heart squeezed painfully tight with unshed tears.
Harry…
Left you. Abandoned you. Tossed you aside. Never trusted you. Never loved you. You were never good enough, Ginny, for him, for any of them. He left you. Just like Pavel. Like your father. Like your friends and family. Even these strangers milling around you… you don’t exist to them. They don’t care about you.”
Becoming aware once more, she pondered with exhaustion just how much more, just how much longer, how very much deeper she could go and still live. Was there no way to rent the mind from the body? Or worse, oh fucking hell, what if she were dead and this was her punishment, her eternal damnation for what she’d done? Was there such a thing, she pondered dispassionately.
The raking claws of lugubriosity hooked into her shuddering flesh, rending through her muscle and bones, curling ice cold tendrils around her heart and soul, burying their poisonous threads deep into her psyche. The shadows were playing across her eyelids again and she had no sense of time, just the never-ending darkness and cold, cold bite of his touch. There was no respite from either and if she could have laughed, it would have been a bitter, tinny sound full of hatred and pain and anguish.
Oh, I won’t let you die, little witch. They’ll keep your body alive and I’ll have all of eternity to unravel your mind. You’re mine, all mine, little witch.
Unravel my mind? How much more can there be? Can’t you just let me die? Why are you doing this?
Just need more time… and you’ll just be too tired to fight me, Ginny.
A voice came… far away… growing closer and she realized with a start that she recognized it. A voice she knew but didn’t know. A melody of intonations that clearly defined a woman and a woman who had stood beside her before, she was sure of it. Her heart fluttered with unattainable hope at the thought of someone returning to her. Someone who thought of her… who didn’t forget her… who hadn’t abandoned her…
She’ll go away, too. This is just temporary.
No… no, no, no, no, I’ve got to… I can… I need to make her… oh sweet Merlin, please let her hear me… I’m here! I’m… I’m right… right bloody here… don’t… no… don’t walk… away…
“No…” The whisper of a word pushed past her lips and hung in the blinding light of the reality. A sound that would have gone unnoticed during rounds, too small to be heard above the din of movement and the chorus of normality.
A single tear squeezed from behind her eyelid and rolled ever so slowly down the dip of her eye and, gaining momentum, over the rise of her cheek, barreling across the dry plateau of her face to sink into the cleft of her lips and beyond, dropping with a deafening splatter against the unbelievably white pillowcase.
The image of Fred’s face flowed up and she reached, unconsciously, toward it, unwilling to even think about whether or not her arm really was moving and it was, lifting the blanket as it rose, the material cascading off her limb as she sat up, curling forward in pain as she struggled to reach him… Fred! Oh fucking hell, no! NO!
“FRED!” The sound erupted with a sobbing fury from the young witch and her motion carried her forward, even as the chorus of footfalls neared and she was tumbling in the air, flaying about for something to catch, to hold and then the floor rose up to meet her, the cool linoleum embracing her forehead and the hard bone of her shoulder and hip as she crashed off the hospital bed, splaying her fingertips across the milky smoothness of the floor as she pushed up, her arms weak from disuse and she slipped, clattering to the floor once more.
Hands were pulling her up, arms encircling her, the soft rise of breasts against hers and her eyes moved rapidly behind her lids as the soft panting of her breath became apparent to those around her.
A voice… her voice was bursting forth now, loud and full of authority, her body vibrating under the symphony of sounds pulled forth from the woman and she tried… oh Merlin yes! “Get her family! Get Fred! Now! Dammit! Wasn’t anyone watching her? Merlin, help me… no. Stop, leave her. Just leave her, dammit. She’s clinging to me, poor dear. I’m fine. Get her family!”
Blinding agony greeted her efforts to separate her eyelids but she didn’t care, sobbing with unaccountable relief in the arms of the woman who was rocking her softly, murmuring gentle words of reassurance as she stroked her hair and she reached up, her hand flopping uselessly as she brushed it against the woman’s arm, her sobs engulfing her, wrenching from her body with all the unrestrained agony that she felt as she murmured the same two words over and over. “Thank you… thank you…”
“It’s okay, angel. I’m right here, sweetie. Not going anywhere. Merlin, you scared me half to death.” The voice laughed shakily, so warm and full of love and comfort and Ginny didn’t care about anything but the voice, focusing on it and the sensation of being held and she blinked, trying to focus through the watery curtain of her tears on the face of the medwitch who sprawled on the floor holding her in her arms.
The question fell from her lips senselessly, “Who…”
“Andromeda Tonks, love. Just keep still, now. Don’t try to talk too much. Your vocal cords are very fragile. You’ve been gone from us for a time. Oh, sweetie, don’t… close your eyes for now but don’t go to sleep, please!” The woman begged her, her arms tightening around her minutely.
“Ginny. I’m Ginny… Weasley… Andr… Andromeda Tonks… and I’m… never… Don’t… Not… worry… not. Never… going… back… there…” Ginny croaked out, dizzy and confused but drowning in unimaginable relief.
~~~
“Never… going back…” She whispered lucidly, having turned in her dream, her nightmare and her eyes flew open in the darkness of the room, confusing her with a sudden, inescapable panic before the racing of her heart was offset by the deep, growling rumble of a single word.
“Cariad?”
She rolled over, reaching out to lay her hand on his chest and she felt him slip back, letting go of his apprehension and falling back into the embrace of sleep once more.
Ginny lay in the darkness, blinking off anything that remained of her sleepiness, trying to calm the hard thud of her heart in her chest as she listened to him breath. Slowly she shook off the tendrils of the memory and realized with a start what day it was.
Whispering softly, she said, “Happy Christmas.”
Characters: Ginny Weasley
Location: House on 2nd & River
Status: Private
Summary: Ginny dreams of her coma and how she first met Andromeda Tonks.
Completion: Complete
“…this was, of course, before the evacuation and attack.”
Ginny heard the blonde wizard in her head, in her dream and his words lapped at the edges of her consciousness, pushing and cresting against the languid, sated hum of her body lying beside Jack’s, her thoughts falling backwards into darkness, away from the curl of his rough hand on the back of her thigh, down and down, into the depths of her mind, returning to a place she’d thought herself free from, leaving behind the security of now and diving into then.
~~~
The sounds were fading again, steps retreating in singular, soft echoes that spoke in a language all it’s own, whispering of dismissal, abandonment and betrayal.
I’m here.
A thump in the distance signaled an end to the haunting murmurs of life just beyond reach. She felt them, touching her, turning her body, fingers and the swirling press of their unmistakable identities against her soft flesh, bruising and marking. Beating out the undeniable message of her expatriation from life.
Kisa sleep too late. Pavel vant you vake. Havink life to beink livink.
I can’t, Pavel. You don’t understand. They won’t hear me. There’s nothing I can do.
Kisa not trying. Disappointink Pavel… again.
You left me. You broke your promise and you left me all alone.
A clatter erupted nearby, the vibrant collision of glass and metal, a scuffle of inharmonious notes in a symphony of deafening silence. She could feel her body, feel her toes and fingers, reaching out insistently to move them, to signal whomever was out there that she was in here. Her faith rewarded her with a lie, the tomfoolery of her mind providing the mental acknowledgement of something that never happened, a phantom reassurance of the nonexistent.
In the darkness, she sobbed with a relief that was unjustified, lying unmoving on the crisp, white sheets. Shadows of light played across the insides of her eyelids and she tracked the flickers of actuality with a rending sorrow, her heart fluttering with the uneven beat of hopelessness.
”I can hear you breathing, little witch.”
You’re dead. I killed you… you don’t scare me.
Did you? Are you sure? I’m right here, you know, with you.
A warmth crawled up from her ankle, the press of a hand curling around her ankle and a soft, determined chuckle filtered past the abject, shivering terror that gripped her as she willed herself to move, to get away.
You can’t move, little witch. It’s just you and me now and I can do anything I want to you.
You’re dead! Stop… don’t… you can’t…
Oh, but I can, little witch. I can…
Darkness welled up, pushing out the gray, the sounds around her fading away until there was nothing left but his voice and his touch, a phantom hand crawling up her leg and she couldn’t get away, couldn’t move, couldn’t scream. Dear Merlin, she couldn’t scream. A dim part of her brain casually wondered of she’d been Imperio’d, superceding her memory of the sickening, wet splinters of sound in the gritty shadows of the ward, overriding the agonizing thud of thick, broken cement against her shoulders and head driving her to the floor beneath it.
A flicker of memory danced just beyond reach, waltzing along the fringes of her sanity only to burst forth, throwing her back with the vivid intensity of blue… determined… fierce… hiding and not… the memory dipped and swayed, rolling away now and she was left panting in fear and exhilaration… the thoughts… Pavel? No, not Pavel… Where? Come back! No, don’t… don’t go out… what? The haze returned, fogging over any glimpse of awareness, shrouding the feeling of hope she’d had, the sudden leaping feeling of relief gone, ripped away as suddenly as the vision has found her and she sank further then she’d ever before, finding a dim comfort in the familiar pain and bone-rending sorrow.
“I’m growing tired of waiting, kitten. You know this will go easier on you if you just give up.”
I’m trying, you son of a bitch. I’m trying.
And she was, trapped and alone, wanting nothing more than to die. To leave this pain and terror behind, find her father… he’d stop this… this would leave her if she could only go… Merlin, she just wanted to be over, to stop hurting, to be released from this prison. She could feel him, against her, pressing down on her, hands, legs, mouth, his hot, moist breath against her neck, the rise of her breast, the dip of her hip and she tried, Merlin, she tried… to scream, to push him away, to wake or die.
Despair and him… they were her constant companions, one unbidden and the other unwelcome but always, always there and pain, oh sweet fucking, unforgiving Merlin, the pain… why hadn’t they healed her? Fucking hell, what did they want from her? She couldn’t go away… Trapped under the cold fold of antiseptic smelling blankets that scratched at her, minute fibers dragging across her skin as they moved her.
“Tell me your name, kitten, and I promise I won’t hurt you… too much.”
You know my name. I told you before I killed you.
She remembered it with painful clarity, telling herself how impossible it was that he was there, that he couldn’t be, that she’d remembered it all, how sweaty her hands were as she gripped the metal chair, the sharp pain in her arm as she swung the heavy stool, the brazenly loud scraping of metal against the floor as it arched into his head.
Her mind was playing tricks, yes. That had to be it. He couldn’t be a spirit. There was no way for a haunt to be here. She knew but she remembered the deafeningly, horrifying echo of metal against bone, the wet, sucking vibrations of intonation that rang out again and again and again.
So rude for a pure blood… blood traitor… filthy little blood traitor… shall I teach you manners, little witch?
Go to hell.
If I go, I’m taking you with me, little witch. You’ll be mine forever… my very own little toy witch…
They’ll find a …
What? A way to reach you? No. I don’t think they will, Ginny. They gave up before they even tried. You’ll rot here, rot away in this sterile, cold white box right under their prejudiced, unseeing eyes. They don’t want to see you, you know. They don’t even look at you anymore. Their eyes just pass over you as if you didn’t exist. I’m all you have, little witch, and you’re all I want. My reward for finding you.
Finding me… no… that’s not possible! You can’t… oh bloody hell…
If she could have sobbed, if only she could have shivered in fear, her life to be able to flinch away from his sickening words, his velvety promises of eternity trapped in this hellish prison of her own pain-racked body and tortured mind. Any whimper that might have existed in the real world was silenced at her unmoving lips, echoing in the ethereal planes of her unconscious mind as it clawed away at her sanity one horrifying whisper after another from the demented spirit.
”…has she been like this?”
”…nths. The resident on staff says there’s nothing wrong with her. She just doesn’t want to wake up.”
”…mency? I’ve heard the practice has had some positive results in America.”
”…tried. Said it was a mess in there. Couldn’t make sense of most of it… poor girl had some bad run ins… her memories are locked away… she’s reliving something but they don’t know what.”
”…be something good. They say patients do that… their minds access a happier place and they don’t want to leave.”
A phantom shiver played down her body, existing only in the dim recesses of her mind but giving her false hope. Her mind lashed out in fury, in agony and desperation, a soft leap of her heart as it thumped steadily beneath the pain, plodding mindlessly on, pumping her life-giving blood to keep her alive, ignorant of her wishes and silent screams.
NO! No, dear Merlin, no! I need to…
And you thought I lied to you, little witch. I don’t have to, you see. You lie to yourself just as they lie to each other.
Her mind whimpered, cringing away from his voice, searching about frantically for some way to silence him, to get away and then the darkness flooded in once more, pulling her down below the surface, dragging her under the waves of light and into the cold, empty pit below where her heart squeezed painfully tight with unshed tears.
Harry…
Left you. Abandoned you. Tossed you aside. Never trusted you. Never loved you. You were never good enough, Ginny, for him, for any of them. He left you. Just like Pavel. Like your father. Like your friends and family. Even these strangers milling around you… you don’t exist to them. They don’t care about you.”
Becoming aware once more, she pondered with exhaustion just how much more, just how much longer, how very much deeper she could go and still live. Was there no way to rent the mind from the body? Or worse, oh fucking hell, what if she were dead and this was her punishment, her eternal damnation for what she’d done? Was there such a thing, she pondered dispassionately.
The raking claws of lugubriosity hooked into her shuddering flesh, rending through her muscle and bones, curling ice cold tendrils around her heart and soul, burying their poisonous threads deep into her psyche. The shadows were playing across her eyelids again and she had no sense of time, just the never-ending darkness and cold, cold bite of his touch. There was no respite from either and if she could have laughed, it would have been a bitter, tinny sound full of hatred and pain and anguish.
Oh, I won’t let you die, little witch. They’ll keep your body alive and I’ll have all of eternity to unravel your mind. You’re mine, all mine, little witch.
Unravel my mind? How much more can there be? Can’t you just let me die? Why are you doing this?
Just need more time… and you’ll just be too tired to fight me, Ginny.
A voice came… far away… growing closer and she realized with a start that she recognized it. A voice she knew but didn’t know. A melody of intonations that clearly defined a woman and a woman who had stood beside her before, she was sure of it. Her heart fluttered with unattainable hope at the thought of someone returning to her. Someone who thought of her… who didn’t forget her… who hadn’t abandoned her…
She’ll go away, too. This is just temporary.
No… no, no, no, no, I’ve got to… I can… I need to make her… oh sweet Merlin, please let her hear me… I’m here! I’m… I’m right… right bloody here… don’t… no… don’t walk… away…
“No…” The whisper of a word pushed past her lips and hung in the blinding light of the reality. A sound that would have gone unnoticed during rounds, too small to be heard above the din of movement and the chorus of normality.
A single tear squeezed from behind her eyelid and rolled ever so slowly down the dip of her eye and, gaining momentum, over the rise of her cheek, barreling across the dry plateau of her face to sink into the cleft of her lips and beyond, dropping with a deafening splatter against the unbelievably white pillowcase.
The image of Fred’s face flowed up and she reached, unconsciously, toward it, unwilling to even think about whether or not her arm really was moving and it was, lifting the blanket as it rose, the material cascading off her limb as she sat up, curling forward in pain as she struggled to reach him… Fred! Oh fucking hell, no! NO!
“FRED!” The sound erupted with a sobbing fury from the young witch and her motion carried her forward, even as the chorus of footfalls neared and she was tumbling in the air, flaying about for something to catch, to hold and then the floor rose up to meet her, the cool linoleum embracing her forehead and the hard bone of her shoulder and hip as she crashed off the hospital bed, splaying her fingertips across the milky smoothness of the floor as she pushed up, her arms weak from disuse and she slipped, clattering to the floor once more.
Hands were pulling her up, arms encircling her, the soft rise of breasts against hers and her eyes moved rapidly behind her lids as the soft panting of her breath became apparent to those around her.
A voice… her voice was bursting forth now, loud and full of authority, her body vibrating under the symphony of sounds pulled forth from the woman and she tried… oh Merlin yes! “Get her family! Get Fred! Now! Dammit! Wasn’t anyone watching her? Merlin, help me… no. Stop, leave her. Just leave her, dammit. She’s clinging to me, poor dear. I’m fine. Get her family!”
Blinding agony greeted her efforts to separate her eyelids but she didn’t care, sobbing with unaccountable relief in the arms of the woman who was rocking her softly, murmuring gentle words of reassurance as she stroked her hair and she reached up, her hand flopping uselessly as she brushed it against the woman’s arm, her sobs engulfing her, wrenching from her body with all the unrestrained agony that she felt as she murmured the same two words over and over. “Thank you… thank you…”
“It’s okay, angel. I’m right here, sweetie. Not going anywhere. Merlin, you scared me half to death.” The voice laughed shakily, so warm and full of love and comfort and Ginny didn’t care about anything but the voice, focusing on it and the sensation of being held and she blinked, trying to focus through the watery curtain of her tears on the face of the medwitch who sprawled on the floor holding her in her arms.
The question fell from her lips senselessly, “Who…”
“Andromeda Tonks, love. Just keep still, now. Don’t try to talk too much. Your vocal cords are very fragile. You’ve been gone from us for a time. Oh, sweetie, don’t… close your eyes for now but don’t go to sleep, please!” The woman begged her, her arms tightening around her minutely.
“Ginny. I’m Ginny… Weasley… Andr… Andromeda Tonks… and I’m… never… Don’t… Not… worry… not. Never… going… back… there…” Ginny croaked out, dizzy and confused but drowning in unimaginable relief.
~~~
“Never… going back…” She whispered lucidly, having turned in her dream, her nightmare and her eyes flew open in the darkness of the room, confusing her with a sudden, inescapable panic before the racing of her heart was offset by the deep, growling rumble of a single word.
“Cariad?”
She rolled over, reaching out to lay her hand on his chest and she felt him slip back, letting go of his apprehension and falling back into the embrace of sleep once more.
Ginny lay in the darkness, blinking off anything that remained of her sleepiness, trying to calm the hard thud of her heart in her chest as she listened to him breath. Slowly she shook off the tendrils of the memory and realized with a start what day it was.
Whispering softly, she said, “Happy Christmas.”