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CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN

-: sixth year :-

── IN WHICH CHRISTMAS DAY LOOMS

. . .



As much as she didn't want to admit it, Tiger wasn't having too bad of a time. Sure, her mother sent glances her way which weren't filled with the love that Tilly would see if she ever looked at her, but not once had Tiger found herself participating in an argument with her.

That wasn't to say it wouldn't happen - and Tiger, honestly, was waiting for all the built up emotions that her mum was feeling to just explode. And she had a feeling that it would happen as soon as they left the Lupins'.

But, for now, Tiger just wanted to relax. There were still a day or two until Christmas day, and all Tiger wanted to do was spend time with Remus, Tilly as well as her Auntie Hope and Uncle Lyall. She had no plans to talk to her mother using anything but basic sentences, and that would be how it would be.

No doubt, her mother would take this as her being rude rather than her avoiding conflict, but that was something which Tiger didn't necessarily mind. Because as soon as Grace Howell even began arguing with her daughter, Tiger had a bag already packed and ready to leave.

And she was part way through writing this all down in a letter to James - written on that pretty paper that she had been gifted before leaving Ilvermorny - when she was interrupted.

"Tiger, sweetpea." Hope called across the room, and the girl looked up, as did everyone else in the room, all of them too nosy to just ignore it. Hope didn't say much else, and just beckoned Tiger over, who did so immediately, taking her letter with her, so that the wrong people wouldn't end up reading it.

Tiger and Hope walked through into the kitchen, where Tiger was met by the smell of Christmas. Whatever Hope had been baking had filled the room with the pleasant smell, and it was somewhat comforting.

"I was wondering if you would like to help me make butterscotch?" Hope asked, a small smile on her face. "It's one of the recipes my mum taught me when I was younger."

Hope was a muggle, and of course, she was surrounded by a very magical household. Her brother David, was a muggle-born wizard, and although she had always been surrounded by magic and was very much used to it, Hope liked to return to her muggle beginnings every so often.

And one of those ways was to cook or bake recipes passed down to her from her mother. She had baked them many times when the Howells were visiting, but it was the first time she had asked Tiger too.

"Of course, that would be amazing." Tiger was beaming, a smile bigger than any one that Hope had seen all of that holiday.

The pair began baking, at first in silence - excluding the sound of the Christmas music playing from the tiny radio that was sat upon the windowsill, amongst the many pots of herbs and spices, and just visible between the drying flowers that hung from the ceiling.

"You can take some to the Potters when you visit." Hope mentioned, and Tiger froze, mid-way through stirring the sugar in. She quickly made sure to continue to do it, and with one hand still stiring the granules into a liquid, turning to look at her aunt.

"How did you know?" She asked, her voice gentle. It seemed to blend with the background music, creating a slight song-like feature to her sentences.

𝘁𝗶𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝗹𝘆, james potterWhere stories live. Discover now