Neither Here Nor There: Chapter Six, Part I

[author_by_night]

This is a long chapter, so I'm splitting it into two parts.


As always, to see previous chapters, see the tags.



Title: Neither Here Nor There


Fandom: Harry Potter



Rating: PG-13



Summary: It's been six months since the war, and everyone's ready to try moving on. Lyall Lupin and Andromeda Tonks are coming to terms with the death of their children, finding solace in one another - but will the case remain if Lyall learns about Andromeda's new alliance? Kingsley Shacklebot is trying to lead a country that has been left bitter by war, so distrustful many even doubt him. And Hestia Jones is trying to harbor all she holds dear, which is hard when there's secrets she's never had the heart to reveal. Meanwhile, people are still missing, and new threats are lurking, but nobody is sure exactly who is being threatened.


Author's Note: I'm a bit concerned about the potential for Americanisms in this chapter, so please be honest and let me know!

Lyall and Andromeda did not speak about Christmas again until the 22nd.

"I don't suppose you've made your mind up," Andromeda told Lyall as he put on his winter coat. "I'm to go to my mother's Christmas Eve-"

"-you're spending Christmas Eve with your mother?"

Andromeda shrugged. "It seems only fair. But Christmas Day, I'm having a dinner. I think, I still haven't figured everything out."

"Isn't it a little late?" Lyall asked.

"You'd be surprised. A lot of it depends on whether or not you plan on gracing us with your presence."

Lyall sighed. "I don't think I can do it, Andromeda. I haven't had a Christmas dinner since 1981, and that was a sham."

"Didn't... Remus and Dora meet you for Christmas Dinner one year?" Andromeda had clearly said their names with great effort.

"I'd hardly call it Christmas Dinner. He wanted me to meet her, so I did, and we spent a few hours catching up. I remember she'd brought me a present though, it was nice. And I suppose you could count last year, except we were all in hiding."

"Last year wasn't Christmas either," Andromeda sniffed. "But things are better this year."

Lyall couldn't look at her. "No, they're not. They're worse. We still had-"

"-don't." Andromeda's face had paled, and he could hear anger in her voice. "Don't say it. Just tell me whether or not you're coming."

"I'll... I'll see."

"So no, then." Andromeda was definitely angry now. "I can't believe you don't want to see your grandson on Christmas."

"Maybe I just don't see the point," Lyall said.

"If that were it, I'd respect that.  But that's not what this is, Lyall."

"It's... not?"

Andromeda pursed her lips. "Lupin men... you're all the same."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Andromeda said quickly. "Tell me we can at least see one another soon?"

"Yes. And I have a present for Teddy, of course. That part of Christmas I do still celebrate. Just not... the rest of it."

"Right," Andromeda said. "Very well."

But Lyall knew it hadn't been.

The truth was that he did feel badly for not seeing his grandson on Christmas. But it wasn't the right time, and anyway, what did he know about celebrating with family? He and Remus had both agreed they'd stop the act of merriment and togetherness, and just be together. if Andromeda wasn't willing to see that, she was better off fulfilling her own desires.

So Lyall did what he'd so often done on Christmas Eve - he went for a stroll. It got dark so early this time of year that  four o'clock in the afternoon might as well have been night.

Houses were decorated, and candy canes lined many driveways. A few houses down, a Father Christmas stood on the roof. Lyall briefly wondered how small children weren't confused.

Lyall couldn't help but smile fondly at the memories of Remus running down to see what Father Christmas had brought him. They'd let Remus believe a little longer than most children - under the circumstances, it had just seemed right to let him have something.  Lyall wondered if Andromeda would give Teddy anything from Father Christmas... perhaps he'd pick something up from the store.

Fortunately, there was a small gift shop of sorts down the road, so Lyall headed there. He found a small stuffed monkey with a "TY" sticker on its ear, which amused him. When Lyall walked up to the counter, the cashier chuckled.

"You're in luck," she said. "These are all the rage, we're almost out completely... I don't understand it, personally. Is this for yourself?"

"My grandson," Lyall answered.

The woman smiled. "How old is he?"

"Eight and a... half months," Lyall said. How could that be?

"Ah," the woman said. "Starting him young, then?"

"Something like that..."

At the corner of Lyall's eye, he saw a teenage girl casually slip something into her pocket.

"Well, thank you for shopping at The Simple Things," the woman told him, handing him his bag. "And Happy Christmas!"

"Happy Christmas," Lyall returned absently. His focus was now on the young girl.

"Oy!" Lyall cried as he hurried after her. Only when she whipped around did Lyall wonder what on earth he was thinking.

"Yeah?" The girl called back.

"What do you think you're doing?" He asked. Why did she look so familiar?

"Just shopping," the girl said innocently.

"Well, you skipped the part where you pay."

"Bugger off," the girl snapped. "Okay? It's Christmas."

"That's usually when you give, not take," Lyall pointed out.

"Robin Hood took."

"Were you going to give to the poor villagers?"

"Maybe I was," the girl retorted. "Or maybe it's none of your fu-"

The girl's eyes widened suddenly. "Hold up..."

That was when Lyall realized: she was the girl he'd encountered on the trail that day, the girl who'd been pursued by Dementors.

"Oh God," the girl said. "You're the sick man who - who -"

"It wasn't me," Lyall said calmly.

The girl had backed away slowly. "If not, then who? You were the only one there."

"I got rid of them."

"I don't believe you. I think you're a lonely, pathetic man!" She spat. "You say you bought a Beanie Baby for your grandson. Do you honestly expect me to believe that? What would a baby do with it?"

"It's a toy, so... play with it?"

"Play with it... play with it... they're collectibles. Not that I collect them," she added defensively.

"I never said you did. But to my grandson, it's going to be a toy."

"What's his name?" The girl demanded. "If he exists, surely he has a name."

"He does. Teddy."

The girl snorted. "Nobody's named Teddy anymore."

"And I didn't attack you," Lyall said again, his voice firm now. "I am, however, very sorry for what happened. I hate those things as much as you do... they're horrible, and I wouldn't wish the memories they inspire on my worst enemy."

The girl was listening intently; her face had softened.

"You're telling the truth," she said. "I can tell. But... what are they, then?"

"They're..." Lyall tried to come up with an explanation. "I can't tell you that. I'm sorry."

"So... that's it? You know what's given me nightmares, and you can't... won't tell me?"

"I wish I could. I do. But I'm not allowed."

"Who are you?" The girl demanded.

"No one important," Lyall told her. "Just do me a favor, and return whatever it is you stole, okay? Then you can remember that, should you come upon those things again. It seems you could use a happy memory."

Lyall took the long way home, stopping halfway to pick up some groceries. He didn't notice that he was being followed.

Not even a minute after returning home, he heard a loud knock. He opened it to find the girl on his doorstep.

"I returned the bracelet," she said flatly.

"How'd you -"

"I returned the bracelet, and then I followed you home."

Lyall took a deep breath. "I see."

"So now that I've done what you wanted me to do, and it didn't feel good at all," she added, "you owe me an explanation."

"Miss-"

"I have a name, you know. It's Hilary."

"I'm Lyall Lupin -  Mr. Lupin to you."

"Pleasure. Now can I come in, or are you going to make me die of hypothermia?"

Lyall knew it would be easy enough to obliviate her, to make her forget everything. But somehow, he couldn't - it didn't seem right. This was a damaged girl who didn't seem to have anywhere else to be on Christmas Eve.

So Lyall asked her to hold on, covered the Grindylow tank with a blanket, put down his groceries, returned, and opened the door wider. He led her to the small table that was in the middle of the kitchen and the family room.

He had no idea what he was going to tell her.

There was the statute of secrecy to worry about; it wasn't as strict anymore, but it was still law. Could he break it? What would happen if he were found out? Then there was the matter of it taking a very long time to explain Dementors to someone who didn't even know about magic. He'd had a similar problem with Hope, but a scary man was more rational to explain - she didn't know it was a Boggart until he'd told her all about magic - as opposed having your worst memories run through your mind. The only alternative explanation was mental illness, which would be a horrible thing to convince a teenage girl of.

"What I'm about to tell you is very, very confidential," Lyall began. "No one can know. Do you understand? You must not tell anyone."

"And what if I do?"

"There's people who can make you forget. I should make you forget. But I can't do it - won't do it. "

Hilary looked very confused. "What are you?"

"Let's just say I know things not everyone does," Lyall said. "What you felt that day was a Dementor."

Hilary's jaw dropped. "A - a demon?"

"Demen - yes," Lyall said, realizing that would be easier to work with. "They make you remember bad things that have happened... try taking away anything that makes you happy..."

"It made me remember - things," Hilary said. "At first I thought it was just me. Then I realized it wasn't. I usually just call my Dad - people -  names. But is there a way to defend yourself? You clearly saw it..."

"Some of us can. I can't tell you how," Lyall added as Hilary's mouth opened. "Except that you either can or you can't. But... I can tell you that if you force yourself to think of your happiest memories, it helps. So does chocolate. And running.'

"But if I can't see it -"

"-you'll know. Trust me."

Hilary shuddered, and her face was pale. "So really, there's - there's nothing I can do to stop it. Just hope someone like you - whatever, whoever you are - turns up."

"We have ways of knowing. They prefer coming after us anyway. We see them, don't think we're just mad... it's more satisfying."

"That's sick," Hilary said.

"I quite agree. But you can't tell anyone, okay? I mean it."

Hilary was playing with the cuff of her sweater.  "Nah, they'd all think I'd lost it. 'sides, who'd I tell? My friends are idiots, my brother's busy with his new wife, my Mum's always working..."

"I'm sorry," Lyall said quietly.

"Yeah, well, it's better this way," Hilary said. "Less people to disappoint."

Lyall wasn't sure what was more disturbing, the statement or the offhand way Hilary stated it. "Are you okay?"

"Oh God, you sound like my teachers at school. 'Are you okay?'" Hilary mimicked in a sugary voice. "'Tell us how you feel, dear. Just smile more, it takes more muscles to frown! Maybe you should try making new friends!'" Hilary snorted. "It's bollocks. No one cares if you're okay. They just care that they asked so they can feel like they did something."

"I know that feeling," Lyall said with a sigh.

"Seriously?" Hilary sounded annoyed now. "You can see and fight demons. You clearly have children and grandchildren. Which I'm probably keeping you from, so-"

"-I don't have a son anymore," Lyall interrupted.

He hadn't put it that way to anyone yet, not even Andromeda; he'd said the "d word," he wasn't inclined to avoid it entirely, but he hadn't referred to Remus as his son. Or child. It made it worse, somehow.

Hilary, who had been rising from her seat,  sat back down slowly. "What?"

"I - I don't have a son. He died."

The teenage girl's eyes had widened.

"It's fine," Lyall said quickly, though it wasn't. It had physically hurt him to tell her that.

"No, it's not," Hilary said softly. "Can I ask how? Was it the demons?"

"Sadly, it was people," Lyall said. "Or so they'd have you believe. They were doing very horrible things, and... Remus and his wife wanted to stop them.
They did, but... he didn't survive the fight."

"Oh.. what about his wife?"

Lyall gave her a look.

"That's - that's awful. But... it sounds like he was very brave."

"He was." Lyall smiled. "He really was. My point isn't to make you sad though, Hilary. I'm just saying... you aren't the only one who feels a bit lonely tonight."

Lyall stood up. "I should - I should have a lay down. But it was very nice meeting you. Take care of yourself, okay?"

"I'll try," Hilary said, shaking his hand. Lyall watched her leave, then retreated to his bedroom for a nap.

As she headed home, Hilary couldn't get the man out of her mind

It was very clear to her that the man - Mr. Lupin, was it? - was not going anywhere. Hilary had plans, at least. Not that they involved anyone, she was going to go home and marathon all the horror movies she wasn't supposed to watch, but Hilary hadn't even seen a television in Lyall's house.

"Don't be so soft," Hilary told herself. "Mr. Lupin be fine. It's not your fault he's got  nowhere to go. And for all you know, he's a nutter."

Still, as Hilary continued to walk, she kept thinking of the lonely man drinking wine to  bad music.

"Goddamn it." Hilary turned around, hurried back towards Lyall's, and tried to open the door. It was locked, but it didn't take her long to discover his window wasn't.

Andromeda hated having to bring Teddy here. But it was better than Grimmauld Place, in relative terms at least.

The  Manor was even older than Grimmauld Place, something Walburga had hated. It stood upon a hill so high, it was easier to get there by way of Thestral. You could not apparate once you reached the gates. A poor imitation of Hogwarts, Andromeda thought.

"Tojours Pur," Andromeda told the Thestrals wearily as she stepped into the carriage.That was their code.  She wondered if she should have asked Harry to take Teddy tonight...

But what would the use be? Teddy deserved to know what family he had left. And Dora had met Druella, although she'd never been to her home.

Druella had never been a Death Eater, and Andromeda suspected she'd never even been as anti-muggle as the rest of their family. She had simply held that there were rules which ought to be followed. Druella had never accepted Ted with open arms - but she'd never once called him a Mudblood, either, to his face or when he was out of sight. She'd even been properly somber at his funeral. It was progress. Andromeda could take it. Dora never had been able to, though.

When the carriage arrived at the Manor, Andromeda thanked the Thestrals and patted them on the head. She had always had a soft spot for them - after all,  they couldn't help what they were.

The Manor was covered in Christmas decor, no doubt with the help of House Elves. The trees had dark red ribbons all around them.

Andromeda rang the doorbell, and it didn't take long for Slinky to answer it. He was an old Elf now, one Andromeda had rather liked as a child. She was always glad Aunt Walburga never beheaded him.

"Andromeda," he croaked. "It has been too long."

Andromeda smiled fondly. "Yes. How are you?"

"Can't complain, can't complain..."

Teddy was eyeing the Elf curiously.

"He's a House Elf," Andromeda told him. "But we're not going to let Miss Granger in on that one, okay? No we are not!"

"I've never heard you coo before."

Andromeda lifted her head up from Teddy to see Narcissa, Draco, and Druella all staring at her. Draco's nose was still very purple

from the mop attack.

Druella, of course, looked spectacular; she was in a red-and-gold gown and wore an emerald green necklace. Her blond hair, flecked with gray, came down to her shoulders, ending in ringlets. She did not smile.

"Mother," Andromeda said, and she kissed her cheek. As she did, she whispered, "what of god's name are they doing here?"

"You were never a good whisperer," Narcissa snapped. "And we're here because we always come here on Christmas Eve. I'd assumed you knew that."

"Can I talk to you in private?" Andromeda asked her mother.

"No," Druella said. " I thought you and Narcissa had reconciled."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "You didn't tell me that, Mother!"

"I wouldn't say 'reconciled,'" Andromeda said thinly. "We've come to a mutual agreement."

"Precisely," Narcissa agreed coolly.

Druella waved her hand. "That's as good as reconciliation to me, considering you two went three decades without speaking. I always thought it was silly."

"No you didn't, you wouldn't let her write me," Andromeda reminded her.

"Enough. Have you ever met Draco? He's your nephew."

Andromeda shook his hand; it was one of the more awkward handshakes she had exchanged. "I believe I've seen you around."

"I highly doubt it," Draco returned coldly.

"And this is Teddy," Andromeda continued. Draco did not respond.

"Narcissa," Druella continued, "have you seen Lucius?"

"I'm visiting him tomorrow, with Draco," Narcissa said. "They're allowing guests for the holidays. I last saw him a month ago... poor man, he's so wan and thin. I worry. But I suppose he's safer there - he's made a lot of enemies."

Andromeda couldn't feel sorry for him. She could only think of Ted, who'd been forced to roam God only knew where, eating God knew what... all the people who the Malfoys themselves had held prisoner... of the family Narcissa still had at all... she still got to see her husband at Christmas. She still
had a child. How dare she complain!

"Dinner will be ready soon," Druella said. "Shall we sit?"

Andromeda reluctantly made her way to their hall; it had, Andromeda believed, once been a ballroom. Sometimes they still did away with the table and made it one, or they had when Andromeda was a girl, at least. She couldn't deny that it was beautiful, with floating candles and stained-glass windows.

Druella went on to talk to Draco; Narcissa took the opportunity to whisper to Andromeda, "I think Draco was attacked by the mop on

purpose."

"You think?"

Narcissa scowled. "You know what I mean. I don't think it was some stupid joke, I think someone really tried to kill him."

"With a... mop." Andromeda rubbed her eyebrows. "You're an idiot. You are actually an idiot."

"I know it sounds foolish, but - when I got to his house, there was writing on the floor. It said 'you'll be next, Purebloods.' In red paint."

Andromeda frowned. Could someone be trying to get revenge? It wouldn't be unreasonable, all things considered. She recalled Sturgis Podmore's rage...

"And," Narcissa was saying, "when all of those strange things were happening at Hogwarts Draco's second year-"

"-strange things? Way Arthur Weasley tells it, your husband orchestrated the whole thing!"

"-he said 'you'll be next, Mudbloods."

Andromeda glanced at Draco, then back at Narcissa. "He said that at twelve?"

"You said it at eight," Narcissa pointed out.

"I didn't know what it meant." Was that right? Andromeda had convinced herself she simply hadn't known better.... but maybe she hadn't cared until it was obvious she was supposed to, when she'd said it around the wrong adults, who did not nod in encouragement.

"My point is-"

But dinner had appeared on their plates, and Druella tapped her glass with a spoon.

"There's only five of us in here, you know," Andromeda quipped.

Druella ignored her. "I want to say a few things. I know this Christmas is not an easy one. The war - no,  both wars - divided our family horribly. I would like to remember the people we lost on... both sides."

Andromeda swallowed. Don't. Don't do this to me, not tonight...

"I would like to first honor my granddaughter, Nymphadora Tonks." Andromeda closed her eyes tightly. "My daugther, Bellat-"

Andromeda stood up, pushed her chair so hard it fell on its side, and grabbed Teddy.

"You do NOT say her name in front of my grandson!" Andromeda shouted.

"Excuse me? She was my daughter! Your sister!"

"She killed MY daughter!" Andromeda shrieked. "And probably my husband, too! Sirius! The Longbottoms are worse than dead, thanks to her! She couldn't get enough of making my life a living hell! How can you say their names in the same sentence? How can you bear it? How can you even bear the thought of being related to her?"

"Andromeda, calm down," Narcissa said.

Andromeda burst out laughing.

"Calm down? And what, have a permanent look of disgust on my face? Oh, Cissy, you stupid little flower, running to the sister you disowned because you don't have a husband to protect you anymore."

"Leave my father out of this," Draco warned.

"And you," Andromeda continued, walking towards him and tousling his hair. "A perfect widdle Mummy's boy. And Daddy's boy, when he's not locked up. He's still alive, but that isn't good enough for widdle Dwakey, is it? Because for once in your life, you don't have everything, and this time, you want things that are real, that ancient money can't buy. Now even a mop can kill you, oh yes it can, widdle Dwakey..."

Draco's face was red with fury.

"Aww, is Dwakey going to cwy?" Andromeda simpered. "I feel so sowwy for you."

It was then, with a chill, that Andromeda realized she sounded like someone else. Someone she most certainly did not want to emulate.

"I'm going to go," Andromeda announced thinly. "I wish you all a very Happy Christmas. You've earned it."

Andromeda headed for the door, but before she opened it, her mother had put a hand on her shoulder.

"Please stay," Druella said, and to Andromeda's surprise, her mother actually sounded like she meant it.

"No," Andromeda said. "I can't play pretend, not tonight. But... I need you to answer two questions. Just two, then I'm leaving."

"If you insist..."

"First," Andromeda began, "why did you forgive me? You never said why. Did Father make you disown me?"

"No," Druella replied. "He couldn't make me do anything. Your old Aunt Walburga was another story, but even she didn't have a thing to do with it. I just missed you. Maybe I'm softer than most of this family. And the first war made me wonder if killing all those people was really necessary... when the Bones children were murdered, I just couldn't abide by my old views anymore. Who kills small children?"

"But if you know she was wrong," Andromeda said, "how can you still love her?"

Druella hesitated. "I love who she was, Andromeda. There's a difference. You wouldn't understand... you don't remember giving birth to her, you don't remember the first time she called you 'Mummy', the way she'd run to you when you walked in the door because you were the most important person in her life, you don't remember holding your husband's hand as both of you watched her board the train to Hogwarts... she was a baby once, just like Dora was a baby, just like Teddy is a baby now."

Andromeda could feel tears threatening. "I do understand, actually. But you have to understand why I can't be so forgiving, and why I certainly don't want Teddy to hear her name."

"I'm... sorry." Druella seldom apologized, so when she did, Andromeda knew it was sincere. "Perhaps tomorrow, we can start over?"

Andromeda shook her head. "I'm not ready. I thought I was, but I'm not. And I'm sorry, too."

Andromeda held Teddy close to her as she walked down the hill, stepped onto the carriage, away from there.

When Lyall woke to hear noises, at first he assumed he was still dreaming. Then he realized someone was in his house.

"Andromeda?" Lyall called as he stepped out of his room. The sound was coming from the family room...

What Lyall saw next made him gasp.

On the table were two glasses and a salad in the middle. Hilary was putting silverware on the table. A small device round device on the coffee table had Christmas music coming out it.

"What's that?" Lyall asked, too surprised to think of anything else.

Hilary rolled her eyes. "How out of touch are you? That's a walkman."

"I know," Lyall lied. "I mean to say... what is this?"

"It's called a meal. I was going to cook something, but I think your oven's broken. I've ordered pizza."

Lyall stared at the table before him. "You shouldn't have..."

"I had nothing better to do," Hilary said. But Lyall thought he saw her fighting a smile.

"I don't usually do Christmas," Lyall told her.

"Shocking," Hilary muttered. "Then don't think of it as Christmas. Think of it as two pathetic people eating salad on Christmas Eve."

Lyall laughed. "That works."

They sat and began to eat.

"So do you have no one to spend Christmas with at all?" Lyall asked cautiously.

"Normally my Mum cooks," Hilary said, "but she had to work, and my brother's with his wife's family this year. I was invited to Christmas dinner tomorrow night, but I doubt if I'll go."

"Why not?"

Hilary sighed. "It's this bloke from school, Nelson, and..."

"He's the rough sort?" Lyall guessed.

"Why does everyone assume that? No!" Hilary shook her head. "He's actually a bit of a swot, reads for fun, likes plays... I guess we're friends. We kissed once."

Lyall smiled knowingly. "So why on earth aren't you going to his house for Christmas dinner?"

"You really have to ask? He can do better than me. I'm the sort of girl good boys like Nelson don't date. You caught me shoplifting.  I'm from the 'bad'
side of town. And I have really bad spots."

"You don't have to steal," Lyall told her. Hilary shifted awkwardly in her seat. "As for the other things... apparently it doesn't matter to him."

"Well, it should. His parents like me too. They don't know the things I've done, though. Or where I live."

Deja vu. "I wish I'd told... someone else this-"

"-let me guess, your son?"

"-you're tactful. But yes. He had very similar insecurities, and in the end they were his downfall. If this Nelson bloke's biggest flaw is that he makes you feel like a better, stronger person, go to him. It'll cause you less grief, I promise."

"I just... I don't want to hurt him."

"You'll hurt both of you more if you give him the cold shoulder and run."

Hilary was playing with her lettuce absently. "I guess. I do miss him when he's not around, you know. I suppose that's normal, I'd ask my friend Sara but she tends to be more about the sex-"

Hilary stopped.

"I know what sex is," Lyall assured her.

"I wish you'd stop making me think things," Hilary said. "It's easier to be an indifferent bitch."

Lyall peered at her closely. "Is it really?"

Hilary looked back at him. "No. Not really. So now that you've forced my life story out, I want yours."

"It doesn't-"

"Oh, no you don't. Why aren't you with your Grandson? Timmy, was it?"

"Teddy. He's spending Christmas Eve with his mother's side of the family," Lyall replied. "That's all."

"So you'll see him tomorrow, then," Hilary said.

Lyall knew she wouldn't like the answer. "No."

"Why not? Do his other grandparents not like you or something?"

"Actually, I like his grandmother a great deal," Lyall said.  "I told you, I don't do Christmas. Too many bad memories."

"You mean to say you're not going to see Teddy at all? Over the holidays?"

"It's not pleasant for me," Lyall explained. "Not like it is for some people."

"But... you're his granddad. Christmases were actually happy like they're supposed to be when mine was still alive."

"He does have a grandmother."

Hilary waved her hand dismissively. "He always has her, though. He doesn't always have you."

"It's my fault his Dad's gone," Lyall blurted.

He hadn't even been fully aware of those feelings until he said it, but now they were at the surface, punching him in the gut.

"It is?" Hilary was staring at him.

"My son was... stupidly brave, because he always thought he had to make up for his - illness," Lyall said. "And it's my fault he had the illness in the
first place. I did something very foolish, and... it resulted in his illness, and it made his life a living hell. I suppose it's not directly my fault he died - ill or not, he would've fought the Death - people. Oh, how I hate calling them people, but they were. Still, he was weak by then, emotionally and physically. Had I been a better man all those years ago... he might have survived. Might have been happier, had a smoother marriage..."

Hilary looked as though she was about to say something, but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"I'll go get the pizza," Hilary said after a second glance at Lyall. She came back with a square cardboard box, and put it on the table.

"My wife always liked pizza," Lyall recalled. "But I don't have it often. Especially not on Christmas Eve."

Hilary laughed. "It's good. Eat it. With your hands," she added as Lyall grabbed a knife and fork. "It's like a hamburger."

Lyall had no idea what that meant, and he could tell from Hilary's face that it showed.

"You have got to be an alien," she stated. "That's the only explanation I can come up with. Or a time traveler. Both? Like Doctor Who?"

Lyall bit into the pizza. It was as good as he'd remembered.

"What do they put on this thing?" He asked excitedly.

"It's like a pie with tomato sauce," Hilary said slowly. "You do know what a pie is?"

"Of course I do."

"Just checking."

They ate in silence for a few minutes, listening to the music.

"You know," Hilary began, "my Dad invited me to spend Christmas with him. I couldn't do it, though. I couldn't leave my Mum to spend Christmas with him and that whore."

"I'm sorry," Lyall said.

"That's just it. You're sorry. He's not; he doesn't understand why my brother and I hate him, not really. It's not just about leaving us, it's the stuff he did before that, too. Yet if my father had even half the remorse you do, I'd be there."

Lyall knew she was absolutely right. He also realized that was precisely what Andromeda had been trying to tell him. That it wasn't about not liking Christmas; it had originally been about avoiding his guilt over letting Hope's murder happen, despite the fact that he simply had not been home. Now it was guilt over everything he couldn't change. "I just wish I could give Teddy what he really needs this year."

"Then go to him tomorrow," Hilary pressed. "He needs you there. And I think you need him, too."

"Maybe, yes," Lyall said softly.

"Or definitely yes. Take your pick." Hilary stood. "I should go, if Mum finds out I've spent Christmas Eve with some strange bloke I met while shoplifting, she'll have a fit."

"I would advise you be more... cautious in the future," Lyall said. "But I'm so very glad you came. Happy Christmas, Hilary."

Hilary shook his hand. "Happy Christmas, Mr. Lupin. I'll see you around."

Hilary started to leave through the window; Lyall considered telling her she could just use the door now, but decided to let it go.

He had a lot to think about.

Comments

[ragnarok-08.livejournal.com]

This is another great chapter :)

[mollywheezy.livejournal.com]

This is brilliant! I was teary in Andromeda's section--you encapsulated all the levels of drama in her family so well.

I love Hilary and her budding friendship with Lyall.

I completely LOLed at the following lines:
"I know what sex is," Lyall assured her.

"I should go, if Mum finds out I've spent Christmas Eve with some strange bloke I met while shoplifting, she'll have a fit."

Hilary started to leave through the window; Lyall considered telling her she could just use the door now, but decided to let it go.

Wonderful job! :)

[author-by-night.livejournal.com]

Oh, thanks! I'm really glad you liked the Black-Malfoy part.

Glad you liked Hilary!