Summary: It is a snowy Christmas Eve. An old man sits by the fireplace and eats roast chestnuts, not knowing that a woman, whom he has not seen for years, will make one last appearance.
A simple tale of Christmas, by Apollo13 of Slytherin House, for the Winter Tales contest.
Categories: Post-Hogwarts Characters: None
Warnings: Character Death
Challenges: Series: None
Chapters: 1
Completed: Yes
Word count: 1807
Read: 2194
Published: 12/04/07
Updated: 12/09/07
1. Chapter 1 by dumbledorefluertwins
Chapter 1 by dumbledorefluertwins
The steady crackling and spitting of the fire was interrupted only by the distant sound of church bells and a heavenly chorus of the villagers who had come to sing carols in eager anticipation of Christmas Day.
The old man sat in the warm, battered arm chair, a steaming plate of hot chestnuts on his lap. His fragile, wrinkled fingers raised each one slowly to his nearly toothless mouth, his arms shaking slightly as he did so.
“Okay, Dad? Chestnuts all right?” chirped a woman in her fifties from the other side of the room where she had just entered, her freckled arms laden with logs.
“Oh, er… yes,” he mumbled softly, his voice weak with age. “Very good, very good... is it still snowing?”
“Yes, it’s coming down pretty thick and fast now.”
“Ah, excellent. A white Christmas then.” The woman smiled at his words as she strode over to the fireplace and began to put more logs on.
“Oh, don’t do that, dear,” the old man said, waving a pale, almost skeletal hand. “Just put some more coal on it, and leave it until it’s just embers; they’re warmer than the actual flames, you know.”
“They are? How do you know?” the woman asked, chucking some more black coal onto the fire.
“The war, child, the war… are the children still playing in the snow?”
“Yes, they are “ Nicola’s trying to find two snowflakes the same.”
“You best mind they don’t catch their deaths,” the old man nodded in a warning way.
“They won’t, Dad,” the woman smiled. “They’ve got coats on.”
“Yes, but you better watch them all the same “ Death Eaters don’t take holidays.”
“There aren’t any Death Eaters, Dad “ they’re all gone, remember?” she said patiently, sitting down in the armchair opposite.
“They are?” The old man frowned in confusion.
“Yeah, the war ended years ago, Dad.”
“Oh… ah, yes, I remember now!” his startling eyes lit up in memory. “Yes, yes…”
“You always tell the children stories, remember?” prompted his daughter.
“Yes, yes…” The was a muffled crack as the burnt remains of a log snapped under the weight of the coal, and the old man watched it keenly. “Can I go out for a walk in the snow?” He asked suddenly, looking towards her with hopeful eyes. “I like walking.”
“No, Dad. Don’t you remember? You’ve got a bad leg, and it’s cold outside.”
“Oh.” There was a long pause. “I never used to be like this, you know.”
“Yes, I know, Dad.”
“I used to be independent.”
“I know you did. I’m going to call in the kids, okay? They’ll want to put up their stockings.”
“Yes, yes, all right,” said the old man, turning back to his chestnuts. The woman got up to leave the small, cosy living room, but, before she had even risen fully from her chair, the door burst open, and several children tumbled through it, their faces rosy red from the cold, alight with the joy and laughter that only Christmas can bring.
“Hi, Granddad!” screamed one of them, a curly haired girl of about nine.
The old man chuckled, and placed the roast chestnuts on the arm of the chair as the child ran forward and enveloped him in a hug. “Hello, my dear,” he said between wheezy chuckles. “When did you arrive?”
“About three minutes ago “ I helped the others finish their snowman, and then I came in here, because I heard that Auntie had some gingerbread…?” She looked hopefully at the woman, who smiled and rolled her eyes.
“After dinner, Marie.”
Marie gave a huff of annoyance, and turned back to her Grandfather. “I haven’t seen you in ages, have you got me a Christmas present?”
“Yes, of course, but you can open it tomorrow,” he said, ruffling her dark curls. “Where are your sister and my favourite Great-grandson?”
Marie rolled her eyes. “Your only Great-grandson, Granddad, and they’re coming “ they’re just helping Uncle Jack in the kitchen with the dinner. Can we put our stockings up now?” she asked her Aunt, who smiled, and walked over to the nearest cupboard.
From within, she drew out six velvet stockings, each one bright and garish, with moving images of fat Father Christmases, Reindeer, snowmen…
Each child greedily took one, bouncing up and down with excitement as they searched the room for the best place to put their stocking.
As the stockings were so small, it was unlikely that the children’s presents would all fit in them, for, not only was it a very large family, but it was also a reasonably wealthy one, and the older members were renowned for spoiling their children and grandchildren. Because of this, it was, in the children’s eyes, essential that wherever they placed the stocking, there must be plenty of ground space as well, in order to provide for the overflow of what they always hoped would be a huge pile of presents from the family and, in the younger children’s beliefs, Father Christmas.
“Hey, Granddad; what’ve you got us all for Christmas?” asked a cheeky young boy, who was firmly pinning his stocking to the bookshelf.
“You’ll find out in the morning,” he said, eating his chestnuts again.
“But we want to know now!” whined another, barely six-years-old.
“Patience is a virtue, Callum.”
“What’s a virtoo?”
The old man chuckled. “Never mind.” He erupted into a fit of raspy coughs, and his daughter looked at him with concern.
“Are you all right, Dad?”
He waved a hand impatiently. “I’m fine, I’m fine; a little cold never hurt anyone.” His daughter smiled, but concern still blazed from her brown eyes.
There was peaceful silence, broken only occasionally by the odd chatter of the children, and the munching of gingerbread as the woman brought out a battered tin.
“Aren’t the church bells lovely?” remarked the old man, his eyes far away.
One of the children, a lanky teenager, shrugged. “They’re all right, I s’pose. Hey, Mum “ where’s my card that I made for Granddad?”
The woman blinked. “I don’t know, dear “ where did you lose it?”
The boy rolled his eyes. “If I knew that, I wouldn’t have lost it, would I? C’mon, Mum, you must know where it is!”
“I’m afraid I don’t, dear, it’s no use having a go at me like that. Go look for it upstairs, that’s where you made it, isn’t it? In your room?”
“I tell you what; I’ll give five Sickles to whoever finds my card,” said the old man. The younger children squealed in delight and raced upstairs at once, the older children, although grumbling rather audibly about how five Sickles was nothing, disappeared upstairs too.
Now there was nothing but the crunching of roast chestnuts and the cutting of wrapping paper as the woman wrapped a few last minute presents.
“Dad,” she said after a few minutes. There was no reply. “Dad!” she called a little louder, and he glanced up vaguely, a chestnut just being pushed through his thin lips. “I’m just going to help Jack with the dinner.”
“Okay, dear…” he looked out of the window, where the thick snow had lessened considerably, and the bells rang out clearer than ever. “Aren’t the bells beautiful?”
She made no answer, but gave a small smile and left. The old man stared back into the fire, the smoky taste of chestnuts still strong in his mouth. The fire had faded away to glowing embers. His eyes began to sting, and he looked away.
He blinked. Standing there, in the middle of the sitting room was a beautiful woman, with long, copper red hair and bright green eyes.
“Hello, Mum,” he said calmly, a small, resigned smile on his face.
“Hello, Harry,” she said, and her smile was strange and beautiful; both happy and sad at the same time.
“This is it, isn’t it? This is really it? No running this time?”
“No, no running.”
“Or talking my way out of it?”
“No, sadly not.”
He placed the plate of chestnuts on the arm of the chair again, and Lily Potter moved forward, and took Harry’s own wrinkled hands. She helped him out of the chair, and he stumbled forwards slightly. She supported him, and he blushed.
“Look at this… look at me… this wasn’t how I wanted to go. I wanted to go with a bit of dignity, not reliant on younger, fitter people…”
“Harry, you will go out with dignity “ the entire Wizarding world will grieve your death, as they did for Ron and Hermione and Ginny.”
“Will they be there?” he asked brightly. “Will they be there, and Dad and Tonks and Remus…” he trailed away.
“Yes, they will be there.”
“That’s good but…” he sounded uneasy. “I can’t… my family…”
“They will be fine “ you’re not leaving them for long; you’re just going around the corner.” He looked at her, and their green eyes met, and they seemed to stare at each other for years… though more likely than not it was only a few minutes.
“I could stand and talk to you forever,” he said simply.
“We have all eternity, son.”
He smiled and nodded. “That’s good.”
“GRANDAD! MUM! MUM!” Harry looked up to see one of his grandchildren, Harry Junior, standing at the top of the stairs, horror struck, the card that he had so painstakingly made clutched tightly in his pale hand, crinkling and creasing as he gripped it tightly. He was not looking at Harry, however, he was looking at the seat that Harry had just risen from. Harry looked behind him and saw himself, slumped over the arm of the chair, a thin, weary hand resting on the plate of chestnuts.
He saw his daughter, his dear, sweet Lily, run into the living room, a wooden spoon in her hand. “What? Wha- DAD!” She crossed the room in one swift, terrified motion, and pushed the unconscious Harry back upright, where his eyes flickered open and then shut again slowly, a flash of green before death…
The Harry who was standing, watching the scene, looked uneasily back at his mother. “They will be all right,” she assured him. “You can watch over them.”
Harry nodded. “I will see everyone again… I’ll see Ginny?”
“Yes, you will.” He nodded, and joined hands with his mother. And then they walked from this world to the next, just as the plate of hot chestnuts fell to the floor below, and shattered.
A/N So what do you think? Please read and review! :D
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.