Fic: Christmas 1980
Title: Christmas 1980
Author: centaury_squill
Rating: G
Characters: The Potter, Longbottom, Malfoy and Dursley families, Severus Snape, Sirius Black, Arabella Figg
Prompt: From cassie_black12: I'd love to see snapshots of the various HP families at this time of year - particularly the Potters, Longbottoms and Malfoys celebrating their baby's first Christmas in the shadow of the looming war.
Warnings: None
Summary: See prompt
Word Count: ~2,600
Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. This fan work is for fun, not profit.
A/N: Merry Christmas to you all!
CHRISTMAS 1980
Godric's Hollow, five days before Christmas
The sounds of carol-singing drifted faintly from the church as James Potter stood, wand outstretched, magicking berry-laden branches down from the top of the holly tree. Lily wanted their baby's first Christmas to be special, and had spent the last week cooking mincepies and buying little toys for Harry's stocking. He, meanwhile, had been charged with decorating their little cottage, hence the growing pile of holly at his feet. James cast a critical eye over it; hmm, perhaps he had enough now.
He gave a quick, guilty glance round the churchyard. Lily thought he was at the market in the next town, buying this stuff - but why bother, when he could get much better decorations closer to home, and absolutely free? He'd already earmarked a pretty little fir tree in the woods behind their cottage; he'd collect that on his way back.
As he was leaving, holly branches carefully levitated in front of him, James spotted a big ball of mistletoe growing in the tall oak outside the churchyard wall. A grin spread over his face. Yes, he'd definitely have some of that...
* * *
Malfoy Manor, five days before Christmas
A long, mournful howl rose from the grounds of Malfoy Manor. Narcissa Malfoy heard it, and shivered. Surely her husband hadn't invited that dreadful Fenrir Greyback into their woods at full moon again, not now they had a precious six month old son?
Narcissa chided herself for being so fanciful. Draco was safe in the nursery upstairs, tended by adoring house-elves, and that ominous howl was surely nothing more than the under-gardener's dog, protesting at being left chained up in its kennel.
She turned back to the parchment spread out on her elegant writing desk: the seating plan for the Winter Solstice Ball they were holding the following evening. She still wasn't completely satisfied with it. Lord Voldemort was at the head of the table, of course. But why had Lucius put Severus Snape next to him? Surely that honour should go to a member of one of the old pureblood wizarding families - like her sister, Bella - not to some gawky young halfblood upstart like Snape. She must have a word with her husband.
* * *
Diagon Alley, four days before Christmas
Alice Longbottom heard the cheery bustle in the street below; for a minute she stopped charming her fir cones to glow in a multitude of bright colours, and smiled out of the window at the busy crowd going about their Christmas shopping. Some people - her mother-in-law, for instance - some people might think their little flat too cramped and noisy to bring up a small baby. Her glance fell fondly on little Neville, asleep in his cradle. She, however, didn't agree. She liked being at the centre of things: the apothecary downstairs for if she needed any potions, and her friend Ann just across the landing. Ann had already offered to mind Neville when Alice returned to part-time Auror duties in the Spring.
A momentary cloud passed over Alice's normally good-natured face. She didn't really want to leave her baby, but what choice did she have? Every trained Auror was needed to fight against the growing Death Eater menace, and she must put her personal feelings aside and do her bit.
Resolutely dismissing these gloomy thoughts, Alice took up her wand again and set the charmed fir cones dancing above Neville's cradle, to delight her little boy when he woke up. She was determined to make his first Christmas special, here in their tiny flat. No matter what Frank thought, they were NOT going to spend Christmas at his mother's...
* * *
Godric's Hollow, three days before Christmas
"Merlin, what a hideous vase!"
Lily looked up from the parcel she'd just opened and grimaced. "Mmm. It's from Petunia."
James plucked a Christmas card from the open box and sneered at the picture on the front: three Muggles beside an expensively-decorated Christmas tree. Petunia, her husband and their pink, chubby baby. "Looks like a piglet," he commented, opening the card. His eyebrows shot up as he read his sister-in-law's note. "What's this? You haven't said we'll visit them on Boxing Day, have you?"
"Yes," Lily said defensively, looking at his expression. "What? I did tell you..."
"I don't remember you saying anything," James mumbled. "Do we have to?"
"Yes! It seems silly not to keep in touch. I know Tuney can be a bit - well, difficult - but we are sisters. And we both have little boys, now, too."
"Anyway, how do you imagine we're going to get to -" James took another look at the card in his hand "- Little Whinging. Wherever that is."
"By Floo," Lily said calmly.
"They're Muggles, Lily! They won't have a Floo - "
"No, but a neighbour of theirs does. They don't know that, of course. Dumbledore told me about her. He thinks we should go. He says you never know when you might need your family, in times like these..."
James pouted. He said, with heavy sarcasm, "Oh well, if Dumbledore thinks it's a good idea..."
* * *
Malfoy Manor, Christmas Eve
Emerald and silver streamers wove an intricate dance around young Draco Malfoy's miniature four-poster. His pale grey eyes followed their antics closely; every so often his little fist shot out to try and grasp one as it flashed past. So far he had been unsuccessful.
Lucius Malfoy looked assessingly at his son. "What do you think of him, Severus? A true Malfoy. He looks just like the portraits of me at that age."
His companion fidgeted slightly. "I'm not much of a one for kids, Lucius..."
Lucius laughed. "That's a shame. We were hoping you'd agree to become Draco's godfather."
A deep flush coloured Severus' sallow cheeks. "That's... very good of you, Lucius, but I'm not sure I -"
"Actually, Narcissa wasn't too sure initially, she thought a pureblood godfather would be better, but I said you were as committed to our cause as any," Lucius went on smoothly.
"I've no reason to love Muggles," Severus said bitterly. His back straightened. "Yes, I'll do it, Lucius. I'd be... honoured."
A shriek of triumph came from the miniature four-poster. Draco had at last succeeded in capturing a silver streamer.
His father smiled. "What did I tell you," he murmured. "A true Malfoy."
* * *
Diagon Alley, Christmas Day
The late afternoon sunlight slanted over the rooftops, casting crooked chimney-pot shadows into Diagon Alley. Neville's buggy rattled over the cobblestones, pushed by his father, Frank. Alice hurried along beside them, trying to keep pace with her husband's long strides.
"Slow down, Frank," she gasped. "Why the hurry?"
Frank shot her a quick look. "Um, my mother said she might call in this afternoon, dear. We don't want to miss her, do we?"
Speak for yourself, Alice thought, exasperated. Then, relenting, she squeezed Frank's arm. At least we're not staying with her.
The little family reached their flat minutes before their fire flared green and a tall imposing witch stepped into the room.
"Mother!" Frank greeted her warmly, with a kiss on the cheek, leaving Alice to unfasten Neville from his buggy and take off his woollen coat.
Augusta Longbottom eyed it accusingly. "I see he's not wearing the coat I sent him for Christmas," she said, a distinct edge to her tone.
Frank and Alice exchanged glances.
"It's such lovely fur," Alice said diplomatically, "we're keeping it for, um, special occasions."
"We wouldn't want it to get spoiled," added Frank.
Mrs Longbottom sniffed. "As you please." She looked disdainfully round the tiny room.
"Next Christmas," she said, "you must all come and stay with me. I insist."
* * *
Little Whinging, Boxing Day
Petunia Dursley peered through her net curtains into the empty street and tutted. She shot an aggrieved glance at the expensive new watch encircling her bony wrist, a Christmas present from Vernon. As she thought, it was ten past two already, and she'd distinctly told her sister to come at two o'clock. No point in them expecting lunch, after all. But where were they?
She fidgeted about her tidy sitting room, patting cushions, lifting ornaments to dust the already clean mantelpiece. She was just replacing a framed photograph of baby Dudley when she heard the two-tone chime of the front door bell. They were here at last!
Opening the door to her visitors, Petunia looked past them to see what kind of car was parked at the kerb (Vernon always said you could judge a person's income from the car they drove) but there was no sign of one.
"Where did you park your car?" she asked accusingly. She'd never hear the last of it from Mrs-Next-Door if they'd left some old banger outside hers.
"Oh, we haven't got one!" Lily's husband said, with an annoying smirk. "We don't need cars, we - "
"- came on the bus," interrupted Lily, giving him a warning look. She hefted the baby in her arms. "Can we come in, Tuney?"
*
"Isn't he gorgeous?"
Lily eyed her chubby little nephew, in sole possession of the rug, surrounded by presents. Dudley had made such a fuss when her son had reached towards one of them that Lily had picked Harry up and sat him on her lap.
"Um, gorgeous," she agreed politely. "Have Mum and Dad seen him this Christmas?"
Her sister nodded. "We went up to stay with them last week, just for the night." She looked rather spitefully at Lily. "Guess who I ran into while we were up there? An old friend of yours." Without giving Lily a chance to reply, she went on, "That dreadful Snape boy!"
"Oh!" Lily gave a quick look at James, sitting stiffly beside her on the sofa. "Um - how is he?"
Petunia sniffed. "Full of himself, as always. He was boasting about being invited to some fancy country mansion for Christmas, imagine!"
James shifted on the sofa. "Malfoy Manor, I expect," he said. "Trust Snivellus to suck up to a bunch of dark wizards."
Lily rolled her eyes at him. "We said we wouldn't use the W word," she hissed.
James looked aggrieved. "She was the one who - "
Lily quickly interrupted him. "That's a lovely sweater Dudley's wearing, Tuney. Did you knit it yourself?"
Her sister sniffed. "Of course not. I can afford to buy the best for little Dudsie, can't I, sweetums?" She lifted her baby up and rained kisses on his chubby face. "Daddy has a good job, doesn't he, precious? He gives his wifikins all the money she needs."
Behind Petunia's back, James mimed being violently sick. Lily looked away, fighting to keep a straight face.
"Er, where is Vernon?" she asked. "James is dying to meet him, aren't you darling?"
Petunia glanced at her watch. "He should be here soon. He's out playing golf at the moment, such a help in his career, you know."
*
Vernon Dursley had just finished one long, boring golf anecdote and showed signs of embarking on another. James, who knew nothing about golf and cared less, felt that desperate measures were called for. Surreptitiously patting his jacket to check his wand was safe in the inner pocket, he got to his feet.
"If you'll excuse me for a moment - bathroom - "
"Top of the stairs," said Petunia shortly, annoyed at the interruption. She leaned towards her husband. "Go on, darling."
James quickly left the room, Vernon's booming, self-satisfied voice fading slightly as he shut the door firmly behind him. He sat on the stairs, drew his wand, and prepared to send his Patronus with a message to Sirius. His mate wouldn't fail him: with that flying motorbike of his he could be here in minutes to rescue James from his appalling inlaws...
*
Lily was furious with James. "What the hell do you mean by it?" she demanded, shaking his arm. She vaguely heard her sister's peevish voice in the background: "...whatever will the neighbours think? ...bikers ...Hells' Angels..."
Sirius adjusted his biker leathers and grinned down at her. "Don't fuss, Lils, I'll make sure he doesn't drink too much."
James pulled his arm free from Lily's grasp. "I did say we'd be having a lad's night out this Christmas," he told her. "Me, Sirius, Remus if he's feeling OK, Peter -"
"Not Peter," said Sirius, "he's buggered off somewhere for Christmas."
"You didn't say you were going today!" Lily exclaimed. "What about -"
"I'll see you back at Godric's Hollow," James interrupted. "Don't wait up for me, Lils."
And he and Sirius were off down the garden path, to where the huge gleaming bike stood by the side of the road without any visible means of support. Lily had a sudden vision of them taking to the air in full view of her sister, and turned to hustle Petunia back inside.
Fortunately Dudley chose that moment to break into loud wails, diverting his mother's attention from the grinning pair now astride the bike.
"Thank you, Dudley," whispered Lily, following her sister back indoors.
*
"Hello, dear," Mrs Figg greeted Lily cheerfully. "Come on in. Did you have a nice time at your sister's?"
"I suppose it's good to see your family at Christmas," Lily said, rather doubtfully. She hefted Harry up on her hip and followed Mrs Figg inside.
"And where's that handsome husband of yours?"
Lily pulled a little face. "Don't worry about him," she said, "he's having great fun out with his mates, all boys together."
Mrs Figg smiled. "Never mind, dear, sit down and I'll make us a nice cup of tea before you go home."
"Thanks," Lily said, sinking down on the sofa with Harry on her lap. He gurgled excitedly and waved his hands towards the young cat padding across the rug to investigate them.
"Can I get something for your little boy, as well?" Mrs Figg asked. "A nice drop of pumpkin juice, maybe?"
"That would be lovely," Lily said, stretching her hand out to pet the cat. It leapt lightly up onto the sofa and began butting its head against her, purring loudly. Harry, ecstatic, tangled his little fists in its silky fur.
"Careful, darling," Lily said. "Don't hurt him."
Mrs Figg came back into the room, carrying a tray.
"Don't worry about Smokey," she said, putting the tray down on the table and starting to pour out the tea. "He loves children."
She paused, looking thoughtful. "In fact," she went on, putting a mug of tea and a beaker of pumpkin juice down on a little table at Lily's elbow, "I'd like to give him to you as a Christmas present. His mum's going to have a new litter of kittens soon, and I'm not sure he'll like that. He'll be much better off with you; I know you'll give him a good home."
"Oh..." Lily said, picking up the beaker, "that's very kind of you, but are you sure?" She untangled Harry's hands from the cat's fur and put them round the beaker's handles.
"Of course I am, dear," said Mrs Figg, beaming at her. "There's nothing like a cat to make a home complete."
When Lily stepped out of her Floo an hour later, she held not only baby Harry, but also their newly-acquired cat. She let Smokey slip free from her arms; he immediately curled up in front of the fire, purring loudly. Lily looked contentedly round her cosy, cluttered sitting room, such a contrast to her sister's comfortless spick-and-span tidiness. This was, undoubtedly, a home.
The End
Author: centaury_squill
Rating: G
Characters: The Potter, Longbottom, Malfoy and Dursley families, Severus Snape, Sirius Black, Arabella Figg
Prompt: From cassie_black12: I'd love to see snapshots of the various HP families at this time of year - particularly the Potters, Longbottoms and Malfoys celebrating their baby's first Christmas in the shadow of the looming war.
Warnings: None
Summary: See prompt
Word Count: ~2,600
Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling. This fan work is for fun, not profit.
A/N: Merry Christmas to you all!
CHRISTMAS 1980
Godric's Hollow, five days before Christmas
The sounds of carol-singing drifted faintly from the church as James Potter stood, wand outstretched, magicking berry-laden branches down from the top of the holly tree. Lily wanted their baby's first Christmas to be special, and had spent the last week cooking mincepies and buying little toys for Harry's stocking. He, meanwhile, had been charged with decorating their little cottage, hence the growing pile of holly at his feet. James cast a critical eye over it; hmm, perhaps he had enough now.
He gave a quick, guilty glance round the churchyard. Lily thought he was at the market in the next town, buying this stuff - but why bother, when he could get much better decorations closer to home, and absolutely free? He'd already earmarked a pretty little fir tree in the woods behind their cottage; he'd collect that on his way back.
As he was leaving, holly branches carefully levitated in front of him, James spotted a big ball of mistletoe growing in the tall oak outside the churchyard wall. A grin spread over his face. Yes, he'd definitely have some of that...
* * *
Malfoy Manor, five days before Christmas
A long, mournful howl rose from the grounds of Malfoy Manor. Narcissa Malfoy heard it, and shivered. Surely her husband hadn't invited that dreadful Fenrir Greyback into their woods at full moon again, not now they had a precious six month old son?
Narcissa chided herself for being so fanciful. Draco was safe in the nursery upstairs, tended by adoring house-elves, and that ominous howl was surely nothing more than the under-gardener's dog, protesting at being left chained up in its kennel.
She turned back to the parchment spread out on her elegant writing desk: the seating plan for the Winter Solstice Ball they were holding the following evening. She still wasn't completely satisfied with it. Lord Voldemort was at the head of the table, of course. But why had Lucius put Severus Snape next to him? Surely that honour should go to a member of one of the old pureblood wizarding families - like her sister, Bella - not to some gawky young halfblood upstart like Snape. She must have a word with her husband.
* * *
Diagon Alley, four days before Christmas
Alice Longbottom heard the cheery bustle in the street below; for a minute she stopped charming her fir cones to glow in a multitude of bright colours, and smiled out of the window at the busy crowd going about their Christmas shopping. Some people - her mother-in-law, for instance - some people might think their little flat too cramped and noisy to bring up a small baby. Her glance fell fondly on little Neville, asleep in his cradle. She, however, didn't agree. She liked being at the centre of things: the apothecary downstairs for if she needed any potions, and her friend Ann just across the landing. Ann had already offered to mind Neville when Alice returned to part-time Auror duties in the Spring.
A momentary cloud passed over Alice's normally good-natured face. She didn't really want to leave her baby, but what choice did she have? Every trained Auror was needed to fight against the growing Death Eater menace, and she must put her personal feelings aside and do her bit.
Resolutely dismissing these gloomy thoughts, Alice took up her wand again and set the charmed fir cones dancing above Neville's cradle, to delight her little boy when he woke up. She was determined to make his first Christmas special, here in their tiny flat. No matter what Frank thought, they were NOT going to spend Christmas at his mother's...
* * *
Godric's Hollow, three days before Christmas
"Merlin, what a hideous vase!"
Lily looked up from the parcel she'd just opened and grimaced. "Mmm. It's from Petunia."
James plucked a Christmas card from the open box and sneered at the picture on the front: three Muggles beside an expensively-decorated Christmas tree. Petunia, her husband and their pink, chubby baby. "Looks like a piglet," he commented, opening the card. His eyebrows shot up as he read his sister-in-law's note. "What's this? You haven't said we'll visit them on Boxing Day, have you?"
"Yes," Lily said defensively, looking at his expression. "What? I did tell you..."
"I don't remember you saying anything," James mumbled. "Do we have to?"
"Yes! It seems silly not to keep in touch. I know Tuney can be a bit - well, difficult - but we are sisters. And we both have little boys, now, too."
"Anyway, how do you imagine we're going to get to -" James took another look at the card in his hand "- Little Whinging. Wherever that is."
"By Floo," Lily said calmly.
"They're Muggles, Lily! They won't have a Floo - "
"No, but a neighbour of theirs does. They don't know that, of course. Dumbledore told me about her. He thinks we should go. He says you never know when you might need your family, in times like these..."
James pouted. He said, with heavy sarcasm, "Oh well, if Dumbledore thinks it's a good idea..."
* * *
Malfoy Manor, Christmas Eve
Emerald and silver streamers wove an intricate dance around young Draco Malfoy's miniature four-poster. His pale grey eyes followed their antics closely; every so often his little fist shot out to try and grasp one as it flashed past. So far he had been unsuccessful.
Lucius Malfoy looked assessingly at his son. "What do you think of him, Severus? A true Malfoy. He looks just like the portraits of me at that age."
His companion fidgeted slightly. "I'm not much of a one for kids, Lucius..."
Lucius laughed. "That's a shame. We were hoping you'd agree to become Draco's godfather."
A deep flush coloured Severus' sallow cheeks. "That's... very good of you, Lucius, but I'm not sure I -"
"Actually, Narcissa wasn't too sure initially, she thought a pureblood godfather would be better, but I said you were as committed to our cause as any," Lucius went on smoothly.
"I've no reason to love Muggles," Severus said bitterly. His back straightened. "Yes, I'll do it, Lucius. I'd be... honoured."
A shriek of triumph came from the miniature four-poster. Draco had at last succeeded in capturing a silver streamer.
His father smiled. "What did I tell you," he murmured. "A true Malfoy."
* * *
Diagon Alley, Christmas Day
The late afternoon sunlight slanted over the rooftops, casting crooked chimney-pot shadows into Diagon Alley. Neville's buggy rattled over the cobblestones, pushed by his father, Frank. Alice hurried along beside them, trying to keep pace with her husband's long strides.
"Slow down, Frank," she gasped. "Why the hurry?"
Frank shot her a quick look. "Um, my mother said she might call in this afternoon, dear. We don't want to miss her, do we?"
Speak for yourself, Alice thought, exasperated. Then, relenting, she squeezed Frank's arm. At least we're not staying with her.
The little family reached their flat minutes before their fire flared green and a tall imposing witch stepped into the room.
"Mother!" Frank greeted her warmly, with a kiss on the cheek, leaving Alice to unfasten Neville from his buggy and take off his woollen coat.
Augusta Longbottom eyed it accusingly. "I see he's not wearing the coat I sent him for Christmas," she said, a distinct edge to her tone.
Frank and Alice exchanged glances.
"It's such lovely fur," Alice said diplomatically, "we're keeping it for, um, special occasions."
"We wouldn't want it to get spoiled," added Frank.
Mrs Longbottom sniffed. "As you please." She looked disdainfully round the tiny room.
"Next Christmas," she said, "you must all come and stay with me. I insist."
* * *
Little Whinging, Boxing Day
Petunia Dursley peered through her net curtains into the empty street and tutted. She shot an aggrieved glance at the expensive new watch encircling her bony wrist, a Christmas present from Vernon. As she thought, it was ten past two already, and she'd distinctly told her sister to come at two o'clock. No point in them expecting lunch, after all. But where were they?
She fidgeted about her tidy sitting room, patting cushions, lifting ornaments to dust the already clean mantelpiece. She was just replacing a framed photograph of baby Dudley when she heard the two-tone chime of the front door bell. They were here at last!
Opening the door to her visitors, Petunia looked past them to see what kind of car was parked at the kerb (Vernon always said you could judge a person's income from the car they drove) but there was no sign of one.
"Where did you park your car?" she asked accusingly. She'd never hear the last of it from Mrs-Next-Door if they'd left some old banger outside hers.
"Oh, we haven't got one!" Lily's husband said, with an annoying smirk. "We don't need cars, we - "
"- came on the bus," interrupted Lily, giving him a warning look. She hefted the baby in her arms. "Can we come in, Tuney?"
*
"Isn't he gorgeous?"
Lily eyed her chubby little nephew, in sole possession of the rug, surrounded by presents. Dudley had made such a fuss when her son had reached towards one of them that Lily had picked Harry up and sat him on her lap.
"Um, gorgeous," she agreed politely. "Have Mum and Dad seen him this Christmas?"
Her sister nodded. "We went up to stay with them last week, just for the night." She looked rather spitefully at Lily. "Guess who I ran into while we were up there? An old friend of yours." Without giving Lily a chance to reply, she went on, "That dreadful Snape boy!"
"Oh!" Lily gave a quick look at James, sitting stiffly beside her on the sofa. "Um - how is he?"
Petunia sniffed. "Full of himself, as always. He was boasting about being invited to some fancy country mansion for Christmas, imagine!"
James shifted on the sofa. "Malfoy Manor, I expect," he said. "Trust Snivellus to suck up to a bunch of dark wizards."
Lily rolled her eyes at him. "We said we wouldn't use the W word," she hissed.
James looked aggrieved. "She was the one who - "
Lily quickly interrupted him. "That's a lovely sweater Dudley's wearing, Tuney. Did you knit it yourself?"
Her sister sniffed. "Of course not. I can afford to buy the best for little Dudsie, can't I, sweetums?" She lifted her baby up and rained kisses on his chubby face. "Daddy has a good job, doesn't he, precious? He gives his wifikins all the money she needs."
Behind Petunia's back, James mimed being violently sick. Lily looked away, fighting to keep a straight face.
"Er, where is Vernon?" she asked. "James is dying to meet him, aren't you darling?"
Petunia glanced at her watch. "He should be here soon. He's out playing golf at the moment, such a help in his career, you know."
*
Vernon Dursley had just finished one long, boring golf anecdote and showed signs of embarking on another. James, who knew nothing about golf and cared less, felt that desperate measures were called for. Surreptitiously patting his jacket to check his wand was safe in the inner pocket, he got to his feet.
"If you'll excuse me for a moment - bathroom - "
"Top of the stairs," said Petunia shortly, annoyed at the interruption. She leaned towards her husband. "Go on, darling."
James quickly left the room, Vernon's booming, self-satisfied voice fading slightly as he shut the door firmly behind him. He sat on the stairs, drew his wand, and prepared to send his Patronus with a message to Sirius. His mate wouldn't fail him: with that flying motorbike of his he could be here in minutes to rescue James from his appalling inlaws...
*
Lily was furious with James. "What the hell do you mean by it?" she demanded, shaking his arm. She vaguely heard her sister's peevish voice in the background: "...whatever will the neighbours think? ...bikers ...Hells' Angels..."
Sirius adjusted his biker leathers and grinned down at her. "Don't fuss, Lils, I'll make sure he doesn't drink too much."
James pulled his arm free from Lily's grasp. "I did say we'd be having a lad's night out this Christmas," he told her. "Me, Sirius, Remus if he's feeling OK, Peter -"
"Not Peter," said Sirius, "he's buggered off somewhere for Christmas."
"You didn't say you were going today!" Lily exclaimed. "What about -"
"I'll see you back at Godric's Hollow," James interrupted. "Don't wait up for me, Lils."
And he and Sirius were off down the garden path, to where the huge gleaming bike stood by the side of the road without any visible means of support. Lily had a sudden vision of them taking to the air in full view of her sister, and turned to hustle Petunia back inside.
Fortunately Dudley chose that moment to break into loud wails, diverting his mother's attention from the grinning pair now astride the bike.
"Thank you, Dudley," whispered Lily, following her sister back indoors.
*
"Hello, dear," Mrs Figg greeted Lily cheerfully. "Come on in. Did you have a nice time at your sister's?"
"I suppose it's good to see your family at Christmas," Lily said, rather doubtfully. She hefted Harry up on her hip and followed Mrs Figg inside.
"And where's that handsome husband of yours?"
Lily pulled a little face. "Don't worry about him," she said, "he's having great fun out with his mates, all boys together."
Mrs Figg smiled. "Never mind, dear, sit down and I'll make us a nice cup of tea before you go home."
"Thanks," Lily said, sinking down on the sofa with Harry on her lap. He gurgled excitedly and waved his hands towards the young cat padding across the rug to investigate them.
"Can I get something for your little boy, as well?" Mrs Figg asked. "A nice drop of pumpkin juice, maybe?"
"That would be lovely," Lily said, stretching her hand out to pet the cat. It leapt lightly up onto the sofa and began butting its head against her, purring loudly. Harry, ecstatic, tangled his little fists in its silky fur.
"Careful, darling," Lily said. "Don't hurt him."
Mrs Figg came back into the room, carrying a tray.
"Don't worry about Smokey," she said, putting the tray down on the table and starting to pour out the tea. "He loves children."
She paused, looking thoughtful. "In fact," she went on, putting a mug of tea and a beaker of pumpkin juice down on a little table at Lily's elbow, "I'd like to give him to you as a Christmas present. His mum's going to have a new litter of kittens soon, and I'm not sure he'll like that. He'll be much better off with you; I know you'll give him a good home."
"Oh..." Lily said, picking up the beaker, "that's very kind of you, but are you sure?" She untangled Harry's hands from the cat's fur and put them round the beaker's handles.
"Of course I am, dear," said Mrs Figg, beaming at her. "There's nothing like a cat to make a home complete."
When Lily stepped out of her Floo an hour later, she held not only baby Harry, but also their newly-acquired cat. She let Smokey slip free from her arms; he immediately curled up in front of the fire, purring loudly. Lily looked contentedly round her cosy, cluttered sitting room, such a contrast to her sister's comfortless spick-and-span tidiness. This was, undoubtedly, a home.
The End