tangled hearts

||16|| - Christmas

||16|| - Christmas

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The first morning of break, we stumbled downstairs at around nine, still half-asleep but excited for the day. Being a Potter meant knowing the house would be warm and lively, especially during the holidays. Mom had already prepared a breakfast spread that filled the kitchen with the smell of eggs, toast, and fresh fruit.

After eating, we layered up and headed outside. James was the first out the door, snowball in hand, and before long, we were in a full-on snowball fight, laughter echoing off the trees. Sirius, predictably, was the most dramatic, pretending to get hit with every snowball as if he'd been mortally wounded.

Lunch was served promptly at noon, and we tumbled back into the house, cheeks red and fingers freezing, and devoured the warm soup and sandwiches set out for us. Then, not long after, we were right back outside, determined to make the most of every minute. Snowmen were built, forts were reinforced, and by the time dusk fell, we were exhausted but satisfied.

Inside, we gathered around the crackling fire with cups of steaming hot cocoa. Mom brought in blankets, and the five of us—James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, and I—sat close, sharing stories and laughter as the fireplace cast warm, flickering shadows on the walls. This was what Christmas break was all about: being with family, no worries, just each other's company and the simple magic of winter.

Evan kept his promise and I got my letters every morning, I wrote him back everyday too, the teasing from the boys was annoying but inevitable.

The letters that Evan promised arrived every morning and became a daily ritual, an owl delivering them every morning at breakfast, always accompanied by a few smirks or nudges from the boys. Each time, I'd do my best to brush them off with an eye roll or a muttered, "Grow up," but, of course, it only fueled their amusement.

"Another one?" Sirius would drawl, glancing over my shoulder from behind me with a smirk. "Tell him to add a little more drama next time. I'm getting bored with these."

"Don't you have anything better to do, Black?" I'd say, trying to move the letter out of his view before he managed to read any further.

James, of course, couldn't resist throwing in his own opinions. "Honestly, Claire, you've been writing him every day. Hasn't he run out of things to say yet?"

"More things than you can manage, apparently, and so far in enjoying reading this letter than listening to your stupid teasing so sit down and eat your breakfast." I reply, rolling my eyes. The teasing was endless.

After a few days, though, their commentary shifted. Remus, ever observant, noticed that the letters weren't just cheerful updates. They were laced with something deeper, a hint of complexity that hadn't been there before.

One morning, after the others had left, he quietly said, "I know he makes you happy, Claire. I'm glad."

His statement caught me off guard, but I nodded slowly, feeling a strange sense of relief. "Yeah, I really like him Remus."

He offered a soft, understanding smile. "I know, that's good." That single moment of understanding lifted the weight of the teasing.

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Christmas morning came around faster than any of us expected, and I was jolted awake by the loudest, most off-key singing echoing down the hall.

"Silent night, HOLY NIGHT!" Sirius's deep voice, usually smooth, was anything but on pitch this morning. James, naturally, took it up a notch by going a pitch higher, making the entire hallway ring with chaos.