BONUS CHAPTER
nollaig chridheil

𖦹 ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ ⋆｡˚⋆ฺ˚⋆˚ 𖦹

THE POTTERS DON'T MESS ABOUT when it comes to Christmas.

  On the frosty solstice night, their manor is like something out of a winter wonderland — the eaves are adorned in enchanted lights and icicles alike, the banisters leading up to their front door wrapped in a mesmerising, colour-changing tinsel. A display of nine reindeer have been situated above their garage, magicked to take leaping dances through the air in a neat zig zag formation. The roof is blanketed in white, courtesy of the falling snowflakes, giving Cove the impression of a freshly baked gingerbread house dusted with powdered sugar.

  Looking up at the house, awestruck, Cove cradles a neatly wrapped present to her chest. She has her arm looped through Remus' for stability as her boots slide over the black ice on the pavement. She glares at him when he laughs, tightening his borrowed jacket around her shoulders with a huff that exaggerates her faux annoyance. ( Her festive jumper and woolly tights do little to block out the nipping cold so he, gentleman that he is, had sacrificed his tatty old coat to keep her warm for the walk up to the house. )

   They pause on the pavement before the manor, dwarfed by the grandeur of the Potter home and the spectacular decorations that drape across the garden topiaries. She turns to look up at him, a sudden stab of nervousness forming a pit in her gut.

   "Ready for this?" Remus asks, head tilted.

   Cove shrugs, her nervous laugh collecting before her face in puff of a white fog. "As I'll ever be."

    "Don't stress too much," he says, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. "It'll be fun. Besides, we can be wallflowers for the night — we don't have to do loads of socialising." He nudges her. "It's all worthwhile for Euphemia's cooking. Promise."

   She nods, swallowing thickly. "Alright, I trust you." Her eyebrows knit into a frown. "But if I see anyone from work and they're nasty, we're going home."

   He squeezes her hand. "Deal."

   They traverse up the driveway, wary of the slippy ground, the frozen gravel crunching underfoot as they progress toward the front door. They scale the tall steps, their pace beginning to quicken as they're enticed by the warm shelter of the entryway. While Cove hops on the spot to generate warmth, Remus lifts his fist to rasp the lion-head knocker against the hardwood, goosebumps prickling his flesh from the cold caress of the brass.

   The door swings open within breaths of Remus knocking, an older woman greeting them with a kind smile and her arms thrown wide. She gasps at the sight of them, seemingly overjoyed that they'd shown up, even if they are half an hour late to the party.

Tonight, Euphemia Potter is a vision in gold and green. She's draped in a beautifully embroidered saree with aureate accents, her arms adorned in jewel-encrusted bangles that jingle melodically when she moves. A quartet of holly leaves have been woven into her meticulous updo, the ruby berries contrasting with the rich green fabric of her outfit, bound in place with a simple glamour spell.

    Her husband, who's popped up to greet them over her shoulder, has a matching sprig of holly slotted through his buttonhole. His loose tie the same shade of evergreen as her saree and his dress robes have been neatly ironed for the occasion. His salt and pepper hair has been combed away from his forehead using his own hair potion, his face pale yet warmed by smile lines and a sunny disposition.

Cove silently hopes that he's feeling alright. Sometimes, they'll run into each other at the Ministry, and she can't help but think that he's looking awful peely-wally these days...

"Remus!" Euphemia exclaims, surging forward to squeeze the life out of him. "Oh, I'm so happy you could make it, my darling. You know how I worry..."

"You'll never get rid of me, Effie," Remus replies once he's caught his breath.

As Fleamont goes to shake his hand and clap him on the shoulder, Euphemia turns to Cove. The woman's welcoming smile immediately thaws any of the apprehension that had been frosting her heart, setting her at ease with a single reassuring glance.

"You must be Cove," Euphemia says, moving to envelop her in a hug. Cove's a little taken aback at first, but she melts into it soon enough, gently patting her shoulder as she returns the embrace. When they part, Euphemia has a knowing glint in her eye. "Remus has told us a lot about you."

"Effie!" he squawks incredulously.

Cove shoots him a curious side glance. "All good things, I hope."

"Oh, yes," Euphemia continues. "You know, he'd come to visit during the holidays and tell us all about you. The boy could go on and on for hours, bless him. It was very sweet."

"Interesting," she says, a teasing edge lilting her voice. "I'm sure you've got some good stories to tell about all of your boys, Mrs Potter."

"Plenty," Euphemia replies with a conspiring smile. "And call me Effie, sweet pea. Mrs Potter feels far too formal."

Fleamont wraps his arm around her shoulder. "You'll talk their ears off, my love," he says mirthfully. He looks up at Remus and Cove. "Come in out of the cold, you two. We'll be preserved in ice if we stand here listening to Effie's waffling any longer."

She swats at his shoulder playfully, laughter bubbling in her throat as she quickly ushers the pair inside. It's heartwarming how infatuated they seem to be with one another, even after all the years that they've been married.

The two of them are shepherded inside by the couple, wiping the snow from their shoes as they cross the threshold into the inviting heat of the mansion. A dutiful house elf is waiting by the door to take their coats before hastily scurrying off, disappearing into the tightly knit crowd of witches and wizards.

   Now, if Cove was impressed by all of the decorations outside, the Potter manor's interior completely blows her mind.

  A towering fir tree stands tall at the heart of the entrance hall, ensnared in spectacular lights and glittering tinsel. The angel atop the tree, sparkling like stardust, is strumming a tiny violin that has been amplified to fill every corner of the room in sweet symphony, a rotation of different Christmas carols singing sweetly from the charmed strings. Elaborate wreaths adorn doors, whereas winter flower arrangements liven the tables. It smells of cinnamon and citrus, a touching sense of coziness and homeliness overshadowing the ostentation of the otherwise stately home.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Remus murmurs to her.

"You definitely weren't exaggerating," she replies, distracted by the intricately painted ceiling.

   "C'mon," he says, tugging her away from the front door, "let's go find everyone."

   Their friend group had organised a Secret Santa with the Potter's holiday party in mind, since it'd be easier to devote a single gift to one person instead of getting dozens for the lot of them. Luckily, Cove had been assigned Lily and knew to buy her a limited edition hardback of her favourite novel, Great Expectations. She'd also invested in a pretty set of golden hair clips that would look beautiful in her auburn hair, the clasps embellished with little pink stargazer lilies. Cove can only hope that she'll like them, holding the wrapped present under her arm with bated breath.

   The Potter Manor is large and labyrinthine, with winding corridors that are decked out in even more festive decorations. Cove's glad that she has Remus as a tour guide because she would've been hopelessly lost otherwise, too fascinated by the portraits on the walls and the grandiose antiques displayed on every surface. Friends of the Potters stop them along the way to make polite conversation and ignite the fuse of dreaded small talk, every room they pass full to overflowing with even more extended family and sociable colleagues.

   Thankfully, it's not long before they turn into a large room crowded with familiar faces, a cosy fire roasting within the hearth on the far side of the roof. The tall window panes are iced with fluttering snowflakes, a reflection of the harsh December weather that's festering on the fringes of their comfort inside. At the centre of the room, the table has been covered in an array of Christmas baking and drinks, the fancy platters piled high with more food than Cove could dream of. It seems that Remus wasn't exaggerating about Euphemia's cooking, either.

  Their friends are sprawled across loveseats and armchairs all around the fireplace, chatting away with festive drinks bubbling in their hands. They sparkle in their party dresses and knitted jumpers, quickly making room for Remus and Cove to get comfortable in their little corner of the world.

Mary and Fallon scramble to embrace Cove the second that she makes herself known, dragging her down to collapse on the couch next to them. Lily, Dorcas and Alice greet her with smiles and holiday wishes while Marlene offers her a glass of champagne that she's more than happy to accept. In her peripheral vision, Cove sees Remus get tackled to the ground by his best friends, the four of them erupting into cackles that compete with the amplified carols strumming through the house.

   Lily almost cries when Cove gives her the present, scooping her up in a bone-crushing hug as she thanks her profusely. She immediately asks Dorcas to pin her hair back using the clips, fussing over the delicate pink petals with a featherlight touch and appreciating the way her hair curls around the gold. Remus disappears to exchange his gift, leaving Cove to relax into the company of all the girls, catching up with them after weeks, if not months, spent apart.  

   As they're chatting, Lily reveals that James had proposed to her only the week before, brandishing an engagement ring with gorgeous moonstones dappling the golden band. Cove gasps, congratulating her and studying it with starry eyes.

    "We're thinking about a summer wedding," Lily gushes, admiring the way her ring glitters in the firelight. "I think it would be lovely to have the ceremony outside."

   Cove beams, her heart warming at the happiness shining through her friend. "Oh, you'll be such a beautiful bride, Lily."

   She blushes under the praise as all of her friends erupt in agreement, the giddiness of the holidays entwining with the news of her engagement. It makes Cove overjoyed to hear that they've got something so special on the horizon; a ray of light to breach the darkness that has been obscuring the world recently. Hopefully, everything will be sorted by the time their wedding rolls around — the tensions running high in the Wizarding World have a way of spoiling good things.

Cove's too distracted by Marlene and Mary pulling an Exploding Christmas Cracker to notice the person sidling up next to her, rocking on the balls of his feet as he waits, not wanting to interrupt. Eventually, he bites the bullet and leans forward to get her attention.

   "Hiya, Cove."

   She looks up to see Peter Pettigrew at her side, his hands clasped behind his back. He's wearing a maroon jumper with a cheesy Christmas limerick stitched onto it, his mousy hair mussed from his antics with his friends. Rosy cheeked and bright eyed, he seems to be buzzing with the anticipation of revealing something to her.

   Her head crooks to the side, puzzled. "Alright, Peter?"

   Peter grins, procuring a wrapped box from behind his back and offering it to her. "From your secret santa," he explains.

   "Oh my days, thank you!" she exclaims, jumping up to hug him tight. "Aw, Merry Christmas, my lovely."

    He chuckles, returning the hug and patting her back softly. "Don't thank me just yet," he said as he pulls away. "Go on, open it!"

   Obliging, Cove unravels the neat ribbon and tucks it into her pocket, beginning to pick apart the wonky wrapping paper with excitement bubbling in her chest. She sets the torn paper aside and pops open the lid of the present, thumbing over the card that's addressed to her with a soft smile.

   There's a smaller box waiting inside and she flicks it open to reveal a gorgeous pair of dangly earrings. Beads of aquamarine crystal roll down the metal like shimmering saltwater droplets, the silver fish hook backing mantled by tiny pearls. A pair of starfish adorn the tips of the earrings and they jostle to life when the brushes them with her fingertips, almost as if they're wiggling their appendages in greeting. 
 
    "These are stunning," Cove awes, holding them up to the light to watch them glimmer.

    "The starfish are charmed to give you compliments," Peter explains. "Thought you'd appreciate that."

    Cove laughs. "Aw, bless. That's so sweet. Thank you again, Pete, this is perfect."

    "I'm glad you like them," he says bashfully. "Merry Christmas."

    She pulls him into another side hug, her fingertips squeezing his shoulder in thanks. "Merry Christmas again, Pete."

   Cove hastily swaps the earrings she has in for her new ones, unable to suppress a giggle when the enchanted starfish begin to quietly sing her praises. She turns to say something to Peter, only to find that he's been whisked away to chat with some wizards that she doesn't recognise. Shrugging at his behaviour, she tunes back into her previous conversation with Lily and Alice. 

    Soon, Remus returns to her side after handing his present of a Tutshill Tornadoes strip over to an overjoyed Frank. He refills her champagne and clinks their glasses together as he sits down, throwing his free arm over the back of the seat. The other conversations seem to get drowned out by his presence, the chattering around her muffled as she focuses back in on him.

   "What do you think?" she asks, coasting her fingertips against the beads of her earrings to make them jingle.

   "Beautiful," he answers easily. "They suit you."

   Cove pecks the scar on his jaw affectionately and he leans his head atop hers with a smile blossoming on his face, sinking back into the soft couch cushions as the champagne begins to get to their heads.

   From where he's perched on the armchair opposite them, James begins an elaborate retelling of his Seventh Year holiday-to-Ibiza escapades, gesturing his arms wildly Sirius fills in the gaps like they're some kind of comical double act. Everyone in the room is hanging onto his every word and Cove can't smother her laughter, surprisingly invested in their daft storytelling.

    Looking around thoughtfully, Cove can't remember the last time she felt this at home around Yuletide. She takes a minute to relax back into Remus' warmth while the long night grows darker and the snowfall intensifies outside. As she loses herself in her thoughts, she thinks about how she just wants to freeze the night as it is, to live eternally in this contentment with all her closest friends surrounding her. It feels like nothing cruel can touch them when they're tightly knit in the Potter's living room, encapsulated by laughter and chatter as time ticks slowly onward.

   Though, unfortunately for Cove, all good things have to come to an end eventually...

author's note!

merry christmas and happy holidays to everyone who celebrates!! ❤️🎄sorry i've been gone for like a month lmao, i've been preoccupied with exams and writing my other fics, i hope you enjoyed this chapter

i realised that the next few chapters i have lined up are set during winter but they aren't very christmassy and my writers block has been hitting hard, so i decided to write a wee christmas bonus chapter to lighten the mood before wartime starts hitting hard lol 😭

side note — see what i did there with peter as her secret santa hee hee

take care and stay safe during the holidays everyone 🫶🏻🫶🏻 tysm for reading