A cookie
“What’s in the box?” Remus asked on the walk home from Christmas Eve dinner. “Is it for me?”
“How old are you again?” I asked, amused. I hidden his gift with Mrs. Vablatsky, as it was something I knew I’d have a hard time keeping from him for very long. It was now carefully charmed so that he couldn’t smell it or get any other clues as to what it was until he actually opened the box.
“It’s almost midnight, you know.”
“It’s only half past ten.” I laughed. “We’re waiting until morning, Remus.”
“Fine,” he grumbled. “We’re getting up early, though.”
“Good. Brunch is at ten.”
“Who will be there? The Vablatsky’s of course, and Mr. Fortescue?”
“Yes, and Tom from the Leaky Cauldron and Madam Malkin and her son and any other neighbors who don’t have big family things to go to. We’ve done it for years.”
“That’s a nice tradition.”
“Mina loves it. She gets loads of people complimenting her cooking. And it reminds Dad of Mum. She’s the one who started it when they first got married. She loved to do things like that.”
“You know, I almost feel like I know your mother. There are pictures of her all over the house, and your father talks about her almost as though she’s just on an extended holiday.”
“I used to wonder why he never even tried to find someone else after she died. I wouldn’t have minded a stepmother if she made my dad happy. But now I think I understand why he didn’t. He’s never stopped being in love with her. He would feel as though he was being unfaithful.”
Remus frowned thoughtfully. “If something should happen to me, don’t do that. Find someone else who loves you.”
I laughed nervously. “Just don’t let anything happen to you, then. I don’t want anyone else.”
“I suppose it’s all right if you think that now, but if it comes down to it, remember what I just said. Promise.”
“I don’t want to promise that, Remus. I don’t even want to think about it.”
“I know you don’t, Anna. But it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.”
“Yes, it does. It hurts to even think about being without you.”
“Don’t, then,” he said. “Just promise to remember this conversation if, by some circumstance beyond my control, you find yourself without me. Please?”
I nodded slowly. “Just don’t, okay? Don’t do anything dangerous that will make me remember.”
“I’ll do my best, but if the things that happened in June mean what Dumbledore thinks they might, I won’t be able to keep out of it. I owe it to James and Lily and Harry and Sirius.”
“You mean what Sybill said about You-Know-Who’s servant? Everyone knows she’s a fraud, Remus.”
“She’s been right before. If she is this time-“
I didn’t let him finish, but stopped him with a forceful kiss. “I won’t think about it. I won’t!”
“You’re right,” he said. “It’s the holidays. Time to think about all the wonderful things we have to be thankful for, and the things that make Christmas so nice. Like presents.” He grinned suddenly, making him look like an eager little boy waiting for Father Christmas. “What’d you get me?”
I managed a small smile. “You’ll just have to wait until Christmas morning like everyone else, Remus Lupin.”
“Killjoy.” He stuck his tongue out at me and laughed.
“You’re going to keep after me to tell you right up until the last minute, aren’t you?”
He shrugged. “Probably.”
I noticed Remus’ hand inching toward the box I held. “Are you trying to take this box from me?”
“Of course not,” he said indignantly. “I just want to hold your hand.”
“Oh, really?” I asked suspiciously. “Even though both hands are clearly needed to hold this package?”
“Oh, is it heavy?” he asked innocently. “Would you like me to carry it for you?”
“No, thank you. We’re home. You may open the door for me, though.”
He held the door as I entered the house and went to put the box under the tree, Remus close behind me. “Still sad?” he asked quietly. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I know you didn’t.” I pulled him close and kissed him. “I’m fine.”
“Are you really fine?”
“Of course I am. It’s Christmas.”
“No, it’s not. It’s not Christmas until tomorrow. Otherwise, you’d have to let me open my present, right?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Remus.” I couldn’t help but laugh with him. “Let’s go to bed.”
“Well, at least I get to unwrap one gift tonight,” he said, sliding his fingers along the buttons on the back of my dress.
“You can unwrap me any time you want to, holiday or not.”