December had a way of infecting Hogwarts.
Not magically, at least not in any more so than usual, but emotionally. The castle itself seemed to hum with the anticipation leaking out of hundreds of students. The closer the holiday drew, the more the mood in the corridors shifted from the usual academic stress and house rivalries to something lighter, noisier, sillier.
I could practically taste the excitement in the ambient mental noise.
Half the students had mentally checked out a week ago. The other half pretended not to, but their thoughts betrayed them anyway. Snowball fights, presents, trips home, feasts, break from homework, etc.
Or, in the case of the Slytherins, scheming uninterrupted by professors.
It was almost adorable.
Almost.
I sipped my tea as I watched Ravenclaws bolt out of the common room with an enthusiasm usually reserved for discovering a new section in the library. Even some of the seventh-years were buzzing. Exams were months away, apparently that meant they could afford to act like children for a few days.
The castle was warm despite the snow piling against the windows, and the enchanted icicles along the corridors glittered like someone had decided to weaponize holiday cheer.
I wasn't immune to the shift. Not excited, obviously, but the thinning academic pressure meant that the other students were no longer sending constant stress signals and that was certainly a pleasant change for both myself and Daphne.
As long as we weren't around Hermione, then the student stress returned to usual school day level cranked to a hundred.
I turned a page in my book, but my attention drifted. There was a familiar presence on the edge of my awareness. Bright, anxious and unusually restless.
Violet.
She was trying very hard not to think about the news articles. And failing. Every five minutes or so, a wave of emotion spiked through her mind. Hope tangled with fury, curiosity spiked with stress. Conflicted didn't even begin to describe her mental state.
I really should talk to her later.
For now, I let myself enjoy the rare quiet of the common room while a pair of third years argued about whether snow on brooms improved the sense of aerodynamics or some other nonsensical stick obsession.
A sudden burst of laughter echoed from the stairwell. A few Hufflepuffs outside were stringing enchanted garlands along the railing. The charms kept misfiring, causing the decorations to bite or latch onto passing students.
Someone screamed. Someone else laughed.
Yes. Hogwarts was definitely winding down for the holidays.
And with each passing day, the break drew closer, along with Violet's inevitable meeting with Sirius Black.
Christmas was certainly going to be… interesting.
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Violet had never hated waiting as much as she did now.
Classes dragged. Meals felt twice as long. Even the common room, usually warm and loud and comforting, felt like a pressure cooker. Every time someone mentioned the holiday break, her stomach twisted.
Sirius Black. My godfather. Wrongfully imprisoned. Free now.
She kept repeating the words in her head, as if saying them enough times would make them feel real. They didn't.
What was she supposed to feel? Happy? Angry? Relieved? Betrayed?
She felt all of them at once, which was worse.
She sat curled up in the window ledge of the Gryffindor common room, chin on her knees as she watched the other students interact. They were all chatting about gifts and siblings and what kind of pies the elves would bake for the feast.
Violet wasn't thinking about any of that.
She kept returning to the same impossible, stupid, terrifying question.
What if he doesn't want me?
It sounded childish, pathetic even, but the fear clung to her like a curse.
She had never met Sirius Black and if what Hagrid told her was true, her godfather hadn't seen her since that day her parents were murdered. What if meeting her only reminded him of everything he lost? What if she looked too much like her mother? Or not enough like her father?
What if she wasn't the kind of person he expected, wanted, her to be?
Her throat tightened again, that familiar sting rising behind her eyes. She rubbed her sleeve across her face before anything fell. She refused to cry again. Jonathan had already seen enough of that.
Jonathan…
The memory of him levitating her without a wand and carrying her on his back made her cheeks heat. Embarrassing. But also... nice. Jonathan didn't flinch from emotions, he just accepted them, even when she didn't want him to. He always seemed so certain in what he said, what he believed, what he thought she should believe too.
He said she was getting better.
Sometimes she almost believed him.
A loud burst of laughter from the other side of the room pulled her out of her thoughts. Two second years were throwing enchanted snowballs at each other across the furniture. A part of her was telling her that professor Mcgonagall was going to tan their hides for bringing snow into the common room. Another part of her urged her to join in to the fun but... she. Not today.
What if I disappoint him? What if he's disappointed in me?
She wasn't brave like her parents. She wasn't clever like Hermione. She definitely wasn't amazing like Jonathan.
She hugged her knees tighter.
Soon she'd have to meet him. Talk to him. Look him in the eyes.
And the worst part, the part she hated thinking about, was that she wanted it. Wanted family. Wanted someone who could tell her about her parents without making her feel like a museum exhibit.
She wanted... a home.
But wanting things only made them easier to destroy.
Violet closed her eyes.
Wishing that Christmas break would arrive faster and also that it would never come at the same time.
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