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I Believed in Father Christmas	By : sarcastrow Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 1699 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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I Believed in Father Christmas

Chapter 4

I Remember One Christmas Morning

Sylvia Brown was humming happily to herself as Seamus and Lavender entered the kitchen. She flicked her wand over her shoulder and a large frying pan flew from a cabinet, and did a very graceful and completely unnecessary pirouette in mid air before coming to rest over a burner on the stove. A second flick and the fire lit under the pan.

“I’ll get the bacon then shall I, Mum?” Lavender asked her.

Her mother, startled from her thoughts, jumped a little and said, “Oh that would be lovely, Lavender dear.” She looked at Seamus. “Merry Christmas, Seamus. Sleep well?” she asked, and turned back to her cooking.

Seamus smiled at Lavender. “Very,” he answered.

“Oh that’s nice, I did too.” She laughed a little to herself and muttered very quietly, “When we finally slept.”

Lavender almost dropped the bacon as she laid it on the counter next to her mother. She gave a surprised look at Seamus who simply smiled back and chuckled.

“Well how do you like your breakfast, Seamus?” Mrs. Brown asked, while she slid several rashers into the pan. “I’ve got it all here; eggs, sausage, bacon, toast, beans, mushrooms, and I’ve even got some tomatoes if you like.

She still had her back to them and Seamus looked lustily at Lavender. “I think I’ll have some o’ everything if you please, Sylvia. I seem to have worked up a powerful hunger.”

“Alright then,” Lavender’s mother said, oblivious to the reddening girl next to her. “How would you like your eggs?

“Fried would be lovely.”

“And you, Lavender?” her mother asked.

“Same as Shay, mum,” Lavender answered. “I seem to have worked up a powerful hunger too.” Then it was Seamus’s turn to blush.

Sylvia waved her wand at another cabinet, and a basket of eggs flew to her other hand. “Well let me just get these on, and then I’ll get the wireless warmed up. There’ll be nice Christmas music on the Wizarding Wireless Network, and at three it’ll be time for the Queen’s speech.”

“Wonder what’d be on her mind this year?” Seamus said. “Probably something about the turning o’ the millennium and how we… well you,” he laughed, “can build a brighter future.”

“I expect you’re correct Seamus,” Sylvia replied as she cracked the eggs into a frying pan that was already heated on the stove. “At least nothing awful has happened this year like it did in ninety-two. That really was a dreadful year for her.”

“Aye, I felt very bad for her as we listened that year,” Seamus said, genuine concern coloring his voice. “The fire at Windsor, all the kids having troubles in their marriages, it was bad. Not as bad as ninety-seven though. Still hard to believe that happened to Diana, thought we had a detail from the Aurors watching out for her and the other royals.”

“I’m sure… he… Riddle,” – Lavender nearly spat – “had the guard withdrawn. Hell, he might have even murdered her himself given how he felt about Muggles.”

“Never thought about that,” Seamus said, surprised. “Course we didn’t hear about it for days, as we were locked up for our first week at Hogwarts with a bunch of Death Eaters.”

“And you were getting yourself cursed right and left by those very same Death Eaters,” Lavender said, while she drew a finger lovingly along a faint scar that went from his left ear to his chin.

Seamus chuckled. “Well now my dear pot, this kettle here seems to recall you and Miss Bullstrode having a duel in the middle o’ the fourth floor hallway, second day.”

She snorted and smiled back smugly. “Wasn’t much of a duel,” she said softly, and then patted his cheek. “Who was it got carried off to Flitwick?”

“Aye, you have me there, love,” he laughed. “She wanted very much to kill you after that. I think professor Flitwick purposely dallied undoing your hex. Let her stew in it a bit. Tell your mam what you did.” He turned to Mrs. Brown. “The girl earned it.”

“Yes she did,” Lavender said haughtily. “Remember? You were there. She insulted Harry, Neville, you, Ron, Hermione, the whole of the DA really.” Lavender paused, shook her head, and looked at her mother who had turned from the stove. “She asked me, ‘what are all you blood traitors going to do without your sainted Dumbledore and his toady Potter? What, do you think Weasley and the mudblood whore are going to save you and the rest of your group of idiots? Who’ve you got then? That moron Longbottom there? Finnigan the walking disaster?” Lavender smiled wickedly. “I told her she might want to shut her mouth for once, then I may have made a rather impolite reference to her weight and choice of profession, I know I asked her if anyone could find her… well, she went for her wand.”

“That was a bad idea on her part,” Seamus said to Sylvia, and shook his head. “Lav’s quicker on the draw than anyone but Harry, and she doesn’t miss, ever.”

“I hit her with Petrificus Totalus, and Rictusempra back to back.” Lavender laughed. “Combined together it’s pretty torturous Don’t blame her for being hacked at me.” Her face fell. “She came back with her father during the attack, you know, one of only four students that fought for the other side. She tried to kill Parv.” Lavender’s face hardened as she raised her eyes to her mother. “She’s one of the ones I killed that night. I don’t regret doing it, but I wish she hadn’t made me.”

*

Lavender remembered.

The battle was raging. The spiders had driven her and Parvati from their post on the fourth floor, and they were in a running duel with four Death Eaters as they made their way toward the front of the castle. The wall next to Lavender shuddered as some curse connected to it from outside. The cloaked figures following them stumbled as the floor shook, and the two young women turned, seizing the advantage.

“Incendio!” Parvati shouted.

“Diffindo!” Lavender spat, slashing her wand at them.

Two of the Death eaters burst into flame. “Incarcerous,” Parvati followed. Thick ropes bound them, and the black-robed figures screamed as they burned.

Of the remaining two, the first had fallen in two pieces, cut in half across his chest. The second Death Eater’s head and right arm had simply dropped from his shoulders to the floor.

Lavender looked at Parvati, who stood rooted, her brain in overload. Parvati told her later that they had killed so many she had lost count early on. Her tally had been in the mid twenties, and she knew Lavender was well ahead of her even then. She hadn’t even registered what was happening when Lavender shoved her to the floor to save her from the bright green Avada Kedavra that shattered a sconce on the wall where her head had just been. Parvati heard Lavender shout “Reducto!”, and as she rolled over she had seen Millicent Bulstrode’s eyes fly wide as the curse connected to her chest. A moment later the walls were painted with her blood. Millicent’s father stepped into the hallway crying her name, then he started to raise his wand toward Lavender and met the same fate as his daughter.

Lavender pulled Parvati to her feet, and hugged her. “Six less now,” she said, a grim smile on her face. “Let’s get to the front doors.” Parvati nodded, and they were off at a run.

*

Seamus remembered, too.

The Dark Lord had totally failed to anticipate the strength of the Hogwarts resistance. Neville had prepared them, shaped them into a guerilla fighting force without mercy, and unlike the Dark Lord, Neville had been planning his strategy for most of the year. The first wave of Death Eaters had stormed across the heath between the gates and the castle only to be assaulted by a barrage of curses from behind rocks, battlements, trees, anywhere a defender could hide. The adage “old age and treachery will overcome youth and skill every time” proved false in the face of a ruthless youth that was unleashed upon an older, undisciplined, unpracticed, and poorly directed mob. That first charge fell almost immediately. Neville had anticipated that the Dark Lord would be surprised by this, then bring out his stronger weapons, and so he had.

As the second wave, led by the giants and the werewolves, charged across the heath, the Hogwarts ground forces melted back to the castle. The oncoming dark forces didn’t realize their position of weakness on the field, exposed to their opponents who held the high ground, until it was too late. It became clear to them when an unrelenting barrage shot down from the castle walls and towers. At the top of Ravenclaw tower Padma had directed her charges to shower the oncoming hoard with tripping jinxes and freezing charms. While those in Voldemort’s service tried to undo the charms, death rained on them from the fourth floor as Parvati and Lavender lashed out with fire and stones. Lavender’s Incendio streaked down into the heart of the mob and consumed dozens at once, and then Parvati had followed with a shower of tons of boulders. Lavender’s ensuing Incarcerous had bound a giant’s legs together, and in a slow motion fall that would have been funny in other circumstances it crushed ten Death Eaters.

Fully a third of Voldemort’s forces had been incapacitated or killed in the first five minutes, but he would not be denied his prize. With shields and spells the third wave reached the base of the castle. A contingent of Death eaters on brooms swept toward the castle, and a cheer went up from the swarm that had reached the gates to the courtyard. It died in their throats as Cho Chang, Oliver Wood, the whole of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and most of the Ravenclaw and Huffelpuff teams shot over the battlements wands blazing. Oliver had managed to bring all of his team’s brooms with him, and the young riders made the most of them. Seamus had always admired Cho’s ability on the broom, and as he watched from his position in the courtyard she sliced through the dark forces with a combination of skill and raw talent that was breathtaking.

Seamus stood with Professor Flitwick, Luna, Dean and eight other students in front of the doors to the castle. When the Death Eaters breached the gates and stormed into the courtyard, they were met by a strange sight. The professor and ten of his students standing on the steps with wands held over their heads pointing up. The leader of the group walked confidently to the base of the stairs and pointed his wand at Flitwick.

Seamus had smiled, and said in his bright Irish brogue, “Sure and that’d be a very bad idea for you.” Then he looked up, and the Death Eater followed his gaze. A slab of granite three feet thick floated thirty feet above the courtyard. “Me name’s Seamus Finnigan, you’ve met professor Flitwick I’ll wager. Now, you could surrender, or you could try your luck. What’ll it be?”

The Death Eater had twitched back toward Flitwick with his wand, and the Hogwartian defenders dissolved the levitation spell. The lead Death Eater jumped to the stairs just in time, but his fellows barely slowed the giant slab as it rushed to join the pavement. The man in the silver mask had dropped his wand, and it lay with his friends in the rubble. He drew a long silver knife and charged. Dean stepped forward, shoved the business end of a double-barreled Muggle shotgun in the man’s face, and without a moment’s hesitation pulled both triggers.

As the headless corpse fell to the ground Professor Flitwick had commented blithely, “Crude, but effective.”

“Back into the castle,” he ordered, as another wave charged into the courtyard. The little coin at Seamus’s neck glowed hot for a moment and he looked at the message: “Mandrakes”, it said.

“The Mandrakes!” Seamus shouted.

Professor Flitwick waved his wand at the doors and they slammed shut against the oncoming black-robed figures. A second loud incantation and Seamus’s world went silent. A few moments later the coin warmed again. “Done.”

Seamus nodded to Professor Flitwick, and the old man cancelled the spell.

*

Sylvia Brown looked on in sorrow at the two young people in front of her. They were obviously lost in the memories of that night. It’s so unfair, she thought, that these two should have these memories that consume them, so unfair.

Lavender came back to herself and smiled at her mother’s expression. “It’s okay, Mum. She made her choice. Parkinson and Zabini at least had enough sense to bugger off.”

Seamus snapped from his own reverie and hugged her to his side. “Yeah those two were never true believers anyway. Blaise is just interested in getting lai… uh, girls, and Parkinson? I don’t think she’d risk her life to save her own family, much less for Voldemort.” At Mrs. Brown’s flinch he laughed. “Sorry, Sylvia; Harry, Ron, and Hermione are wearing off on me.” He turned to Lavender. “’S all over now though, isn’t it love? We’re here, they’re not.”

Lavender suddenly found herself being hugged fiercely by her mother. “Please, Lavender, please don’t ever put yourself in a situation like that again,” she said, almost in tears. “It was so awful, what you had to do, and you were in such terrible danger, and then… ” She drew a shuddering breath. “I just couldn’t bear to lose you. I love you so much, Lavender. You’re our baby.” She stopped and wiped a few tears from her face. “You really have no idea how much you scared us all.”

Lavender patted her mother’s back and waved her wand at the pan. A shower of the butter rose from the pan and basted the tops of the eggs. “Oh, I have a pretty good idea, but I’m not making any promises, Mum,” she said, and held her out at arm’s length looking her in the eyes. “Gryffindor, you know.”

“Will you please keep her out of trouble, Seamus?” Mrs. Brown said as she turned back to the stove.

“Aye, well, Sylvia,” he said with a sigh, “perhaps you didn’t notice the crimson and gold on that scarf you got me then?”

Mrs. Brown just shook her head and sighed in defeat. “Here’s your eggs, I’ll go and get the wireless turned on,” she said. “Lavender, could you serve please?”

Lavender waved her wand at the stove. Two eggs gently laid themselves on one plate and three on another. A second flick and three sausages, two strips of bacon, a dollop of beans, a spoonful of mushrooms, and a grilled tomato half arranged themselves on each plate. Lastly the toast dealt itself into the toast tray and flew to the table followed by the two plates.

“Haven’t had a proper breakfast in weeks, thanks love,” Seamus said. “’S usually just tea and toast for me.”

“So I’ve noticed,” Lavender said quietly

As they stood in the kitchen staring into each other’s eyes they didn’t see Rowan quietly slip into the room and sit at the table. “Mmm breakfast,” he said, and tucked in to one of the plates on the table.

Lavender turned and huffed, “Rowan!”

Seamus laughed. “It’s ok, love. You have the other and I’ll just whip up another set o’ eggs.” He nodded to Rowan. “Merry Christmas to you, Rowan,” he said, and slid the pan back on the burner then grabbed three eggs from the basket. “Dad taught me well.” The eggs hit the pan and Seamus fixed the rest of his plate as they cooked.

“What’s going on here?” Mrs. Brown asked as she came back into the kitchen. “Rowan did you nick Seamus’s breakfast?”

Seamus drew his wand and basted the eggs in the pan.

“There’s the quick and the hungry in the Brown House,” Rowan said through a mouthful of toast.

“It’s alright, Sylvia,” Seamus said. “Like I told Rowan and Lav, me dad taught me well how to fry an egg. Would you care for me to make you some? You’ve been at the stove for most o’ two days now.” He slid the three eggs onto his plate joining the beans, bacon, sausage, mushrooms, and tomato.

“I can manage, thank you,” Mrs. Brown said. “You join my thieving son.” She shot Rowan a sidelong look, and turned to the stove Seamus had just left to sit next to Lavender. “How’d you sleep, Rowan. I know you’re used to having your room to yourself, must’ve been odd having another person with you.”

Rowan smirked at Lavender and Seamus. “Ah it was just fine, mum,” and he shook in silent laughter. “Was like he wasn’t there at all.”

Lavender kicked him under the table.

Rowan flinched but the smile never left his face.

“Smells wonderful, Sylv,” Nathanial said as he entered the kitchen. The older man walked up behind his wife, slid his arms around her and kissed her cheek. “I love you,” he said quietly to her.

Sylvia laid her head back on his shoulder, crossed her hand over his, and patted them. “I’ll just scramble six then?” she asked dreamily.

“Be lovely, Sylv,” he said and kissed her cheek again. He released her and turned to the table full of smiling young people. He smirked and jokingly said, “What you lot lookin’ at?” before sitting and taking a slice from the tray.

“Merry Christmas, Nat, how’s your morning?” Seamus asked him as he buttered his toast.

“Best in a good while, Seamus. Yours?” he replied.

“Aye, well any morning with Lav is a good one,” Seamus said, looking at the girl in question.

“Lavender mentioned you two running off this morning. What’re you doing today, besides dinner with us?” Mr. Brown asked him.

“Lav says there’re some things in Ipswich she wants to show me,” Seamus answered

Lavender looked at her father. “I’d like to take him down to see the tree and carol singers.”

“Ah, I haven’t been to see the carol singing in years,” Nathanial said, smiling with nostalgia. “Enjoy yourselves.”

“Just be back by half eleven,” his wife added. “I’ve a turkey, a ham and a joint of beef plus all the side dishes. I’ll need Lavender to help me get it out, and we’ll need all the help we can eating it.”

“And I’ll be proud to offer my services, Sylvia, that I will,” Seamus said. “Tea, Nat?” he asked Lavender’s father while he filled his own cup.

“Yes please, Seamus.” While Seamus filled his cup he asked, “We need anything while they’re in town, Sylv?”

“Oh yes,” Sylvia said brightly. “If the old Muggle man is there by the tree with his roasted chestnuts, get me a bag before you come back. He does something to them, I don’t know what, but they are the best.”

Seamus nodded his head. “Soaks them in seawater and sugar I’ll wager. There’s an old Muggle in Dublin does them that way,” he said between bites. “Excellent sausages, Sylvia; where’d you get them?”

“Aren’t they wonderful?” she answered. “I always hated the ones we got round here, too soft. These are from Amesbury. There are all those pig farms out by Stonehenge, and they make the best sausages on earth. It’s where I get my bacon too.”

“Only been to Stonehenge once,” Seamus said. “Was crowded with Muggles.” He smirked and nodded. “Even they could feel the magic o’ the place though. They were so quiet, like in a church. I’ve been to Avebury a few times, I have. The wizard who owns the Red Dragon pub there is a friend o’ me mam’s from her Hogwarts days.”

“I’ve always liked Avebury better,” Nathanial said. “I suppose it helps that it’s a village entirely populated with magical folk. It’s funny seeing the Muggles wander among the stones trying to figure out how we got them there.” His smile faded. “My father was there the night they drove Hitler back.”

“I don’t think Shay knows that story, Dad,” Lavender said.

He looked puzzled. “They didn’t cover it in Muggle studies?”

“Professor Burbage was probably going to talk about it seventh year, but that fat fu..” Lavender cleared her throat. “Alecto Carrow, who Neville shoved a sword through thank you very much, didn’t think it important.”

“Well, Seamus. You know of the second world war among the Muggles?” Mr. Brown asked.

“Aye, Nat, I do.” He answered. “Me grandpa on me da’s side was in it.”

“Good for him. We were too.” Nathanial looked very serious. “They found out from the German Wizardry that Hitler was planning to invade England. So one dark night a good portion of English Wizardry gathered at Avebury.” He closed his eyes, and his voice became low and gravely. “Five thousand strong they were, and they raised the great cone of power. The charm was so strong the effort killed a few of the eldest, but they knew what they were doing, and what it might cost.” He opened his eyes, and his expression changed to a satisfied and vengeful smirk. “Everything Hitler did after that failed. The German Wizardry lied to him about, well, everything. He got bogged down in Russia, the Allies routed him from Italy, and then came D-Day. They never credit us with the fog, but we did that too. The Germans didn’t see the Allied forces coming till they were nearly at the beach.”

“The German Wizardry wasn’t on his side?” Seamus asked.

“Some were at the beginning, Grindelwald for one, but even he saw the madness for what it was.”

Sylvia Brown watched her husband and Seamus talk as they ate. They spoke as equals, as friends. An older man telling a younger about the history of his people, and it occurred to her that this was an eternal scene, one that had played itself out millions of times through the millennia. It was timeless and real. She glowed with pride for her husband who had come so far in what were really only a few short hours, and for her daughter who had chosen so well. As she magicked the dishes from the table someone turned the volume up on the wireless in the sitting room. Celestina Warbeck was just finishing All I want for Christmas is a good wizard.

He’ll make me tea,

He’ll love my dog,

He’ll warm my nights,

And be there when I’m old.

Yes, old Saint Nick,

All I want for Christmas is a good wizard.

“Why that woman is famous I can’t imagine,” Lavender’s mother said as she enchanted the pan-scrubber. “She’s a pleasant enough voice I suppose, but her delivery is just so over the top, and the songs!” She shook her head. “They’re all about men and love. I wish we had a woman singer that sang about something else, like our stories for instance.”

Seamus laughed. “Well we sort of have a limited pool to draw on, Sylvia. There’s only so many magic folk with musical talent, and not all o’ those folks want to perform for people.” He shrugged. “Unknown Eclipse is doing a rock opera about Harry though, that should be interesting.”

“They’re not bad,” Jasmine said as she entered the kitchen. Her hair was a wild mess and there were still marks on her face from the pillow. “Although that dreck they wrote about the tales of Merlin was just awful.”

“Hey, I liked The Song of Nimue,” Lavender said from her chair.

Jasmine looked at her in horror. “You’re joking, right. It was utter dreck, Lavender.”

Lavender stared down her older sister. “No it wasn’t. There were some great songs on that record. Tell her, Shay.”

Both of the Brown men turned to Seamus and smiled as he looked from Lavender to Jasmine and back. “I... um... you see...” he stammered. “I’d very much like to stay on the good side o’ both of you, so I’ll be keeping me opinion to meself,” – he turned to Lavender – “if you don’t mind, love.”

Nathanial and Rowan Brown burst into laughter. “Well dodged, Seamus!” Rowan said, and clapped him on the back. “Took me years to figure out not to get between any of the women when they’re disagreeing.”

Lavender smiled and laid her hand over his. “It’s alright, Shay. I know what you think.” She turned to her sister. “Sit, your hair’s a mess!”

Jasmine sat in the chair next to Seamus as Lavender stood. With a casual, practiced skill she pulled her wand, muttered an incantation Seamus had never heard, and brushed the soft, brown glow that formed around her wand-tip down her sister’s hair. In moments Jasmine’s hair was perfect, not a strand out of place.

“I’m next,” Artemisia said as she entered the room. If possible her hair was in wilder disarray than her sister’s had been. She sat next to Jasmine, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes.

Seamus chuckled at her. “Didn’t know you were a hairdresser?”

Artemisia sighed contentedly in the chair as Lavender charmed her hair and the tangles fell out. “First charm we taught her after she got her wand.”

“Lav and I escaped the curse of the Brown hair,” Rowan told Seamus. “Dad’s family has this wickedly curly hair. Mum’s genes moderated it a bit, but these two have fought with it their whole lives.”

“Yeah, It’s just curly enough to tangle spectacularly while we sleep,” Jasmine said. “If I wasn’t a witch I’d shave my head.”

Seamus laughed. “That’d be a shame, that would. You’ve great hair, all o’ you ladies. Although I must say Lav’s is my favorite.”

“Yes, we all know she has great hair,” Jasmine said, a note of exasperation coloring her voice.

“And this is the point where you stop talking about Lavender’s hair, Seamus,” Rowan said, barely containing his humor.

Seamus nodded to him. “Aye, thanks, Rowan. I can see where that would be a good idea.”

Nathanial Brown could hold his laughter in no longer. It erupted from him in great waves. Rowan joined in, and soon the whole of the kitchen was filled with it. Tears streamed down Nathanial’s face and Jasmine was struggling for breath. Lavender’s mother was the first to recover.

“I haven’t laughed like that in years, this is truly a happy Christmas,” she said.

“Yes it is,” Rowan said, and turned to his mother. “I’ve got an errand to run this morning too, Mum, but I’ll be back in plenty of time for dinner.”

His father looked at him. “What are you up to, Son?”

Rowan smiled cryptically. “It’s a surprise. I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.”

Nathanial nodded. “Well then, best get on with it. We’ll see you later then.”

Lavender stood and gathered their dishes from the table. “We’d best be off too if we’re getting back by noon.”

“Eleven-thirty,” her mother said.

“Then let’s be off,” Lavender said as she pulled Seamus to his feet. “We’ll be sure to have some nice hot chestnuts for you when we Apparate back, Mum”

“Have a good time, dears,” Mrs. Brown said. “And remember, eleven-thirty.”

Seamus drew his watch from his pocket and tapped it with his wand. “We’ll be reminded,” he told her. “Accio.” His new cloak along with Lavender’s flew into the room and landed in his outstretched arms. “Here you are, love,” he said as he draped Lavender’s around her. With a flourish he swept his over his shoulders and fastened the clasp. “How do I look?” he asked Lavender.

“Like the handsome hero you are,” she said, and took his hand. “Half past eleven, Mum.” And with a snap they were gone.
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I Believed in Father Christmas