You Only Live Once

CHAPTER 31

 "What are you doing out here, kiddo?"

The voice was warm, familiar, and carried the slight rasp of age. Mira didn't need to turn around to know it was Monty. She remained perched on the wooden slat of the swing, her boots scuffing the frosted grass.

"Just... thinking" she murmured, her breath hitching in a small white cloud before the winter air swallowed it.

The house behind them was a glowing beacon of gold against the purple-black of the December night. It was exactly what Mira had hoped for—a Potter Christmas. The windows were fogged with the collective breath of a dozen people, and the faint, muffled sound of a record player drifted out whenever someone opened the back door. Everyone had arrived for the holidays, and the house was packed to the rafters. There were Order members there she didn't even recognize, faces she had only heard about in hushed, serious whispers during meetings.

For the last two hours, Mira had been trapped in the kitchen. She had been subjected to a relentless barrage of questions from curious strangers. Where did she come from? Who were her people? How did she find the Potters? They weren't being mean, of course; they were just Order members, naturally suspicious and naturally nosy. But between the interrogation and the chaos of the kitchen, she hadn't managed to say more than two words to James, Sirius, or Remus. The noise had started to feel like a physical weight on her chest, pushing her toward the door.

She had found her escape in the backyard. Not too far away from the porch, but deep enough into the shadows to feel invisible, stood the tallest oak tree in the yard. Someone—likely James in a fit of childhood energy—had hung a sturdy rope swing from one of the lowest, thickest branches. That was where Monty found her twenty minutes later, sent on a scouting mission by Mia, who had realized her "extra" child  had vanished from the festivities.

"It's freezing out here, Mira" Monty claimed, his coat unbuttoned as he crunched through the thin layer of frost to reach her.

"The cold is good for my skin" Mira joked, finally turning her head to look at him. She reached out and lightly squeezed his cheek with fingers that were beginning to go numb. "I'm not going to be young forever, you know. I have to preserve the goods while I can."

Monty chuckled, the sound deep and comforting in his chest. He looked up at the sturdy branch above them and then back at the girl who had somehow carved a permanent place in their home over the last year.

"Want me to push you?" he asked with a small, knowing smile.

"Oh no, you don't need to do that" Mira replied, waving her hand dismissively. She turned back to the night sky, staring up at the stars that looked like spilled salt on a black tablecloth. "I'm perfectly fine just sitting here."

"Your dad isn't around to do it for you, therefore I must" Monty stated firmly.

Mira let out a short, sharp laugh. It wasn't a mean laugh, but it had an edge to it that she couldn't quite dull. God bless Fleamont Potter; he had such a pure, honest soul. His intentions were always heartwarming, always centered on making sure everyone felt loved and fed. But he didn't know the reality of her life before this. He didn't know the man she had called father.

"My dad never had time for things like that anyway, Monty. So don't worry, I'm not missing out on some grand tradition" she said softly.

Monty went quiet for a moment. He was a man who had seen too much in his life—wars, loss, and the slow grind of time. He had heard stories that kept him up at night, but what truly troubled him, even into his older years, was the concept of a parent who didn't love their child. He had seen the scars, both literal and metaphorical, on Sirius Black. He had spent years trying to patch that boy back together, and he had hoped Sirius was an anomaly.