(13 : TALK OF DREAMS WHICH ARE . . .
THE CHILDREN OF AN IDLE BRAIN)

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AT SEVEN A.M, JULIET CREPT into the bedroom that James and Sirius shared. Of course Potter Manor was spacious enough that they didn't need to share, but Juliet suspected they chose to as the two of them were more brothers than best friends. However, it made it all the more of a challenge for the girl to sneak in, coax Sirius out of bed and escape undetected by James. Perhaps what was most surprising was the lack of shame Juliet felt when waking Sirius up. After all, they had been friends before — before Hogwarts houses divided them, locking them into one of four boxes and throwing away the key. Plus, she suspected they were in the early stages of becoming friends again, so he simply would have to get used to her morning habits.

Friends. Even the word sounded strange to her. Juliet didn't have many friends. It was an active choice born out of her general distrust of others, but she was beginning to wonder if pushing people away for six years had been a mistake. When she graduated, what memories would she have to show for her time as a student?

    "I am going to murder you," moaned Sirius as the redhead dragged him out of bed. It was lucky that James hadn't woken up with how loud his complaints were. "Violently."

    "Shhh," chastised Juliet. "And you won't. You'd end up in Azkaban and, to be frank, you wouldn't be able to pull off the uniform. Stripes are not your friend."

    Sirius grumbled pointedly, "Neither is anyone who wakes me up at such an ungodly hour on Christmas."

    "You're the one who told me James bought me something," she reminded him. "It would be rude to not give him something in return. Since it's too late to go shopping, I was up all night thinking of what I could give him and I'm not good with gifts, but I thought I'd give him —"

    "A full eight hours sleep?" interrupted Sirius. "Great, that's what I want too."

    Catching Sirius by the back of his shirt after he spun round, Juliet pulled the teenager back. "Cookies, actually."

     "Are you going to poison them?"

     "What? Why would I do that?"

     "Because you're never this nice to people."

     She busied herself looking through the kitchen cupboards. "Well, he was nice to me first," she explained. "Contrary to popular belief, I'm not some kind of 'Ice Princess.' People like to make up rumours and if people choose to believe said rumours, I have no intentions to prove them wrong because they've probably already made up their mind about me."

     Pondering this, Sirius scrunched his eyebrows together in thought. "Huh, that makes sense," he commented. "So the stone cold bitch thing is all an act?"

    "I never said that," she snorted. "But James was the first person who admitted he was wrong and put in the effort to get to know me. Not many people would have invited me to their house for Christmas, or kept trying to talk me after I hexed them."

     "That's . . . just James," said Sirius, warmth and fondness prevalent in his tone. "He can be a stubborn git when he really wants, awfully thick-headed at times, but he does what's right when it counts."

     A little uncomfortable, Juliet cleared her throat and said, "Now, how do we make cookies?"

     "You mean you don't know?"

     "The house elves do all the cooking at home!" she exclaimed. "I'm guessing we need flour and eggs and —"

     Amused, Sirius hopped up onto the counter. "We could ask Dippy to —"

    "No," she stated firmly. "It won't feel right if they're not from me."

    What she didn't mention was how much she wanted to learn to do things for herself. Whilst she wasn't planning on leaving her pureblood lifestyle like Sirius, she didn't want to be so reliant on her parents anymore. If things went sour with their political affiliations, Juliet dreaded to think what would become of the Fawleys.

"Um, I'm sure Mia has a cookbook around here somewhere," mentioned Sirius. "Accio Mia's cookbook."

Juliet was itching to be able to use magic again and resolved to buy a new wand soon — she certainly had no intentions of asking Lucius for it back. Even with her stomach twisting with envy due to the familiar crackle of magic, she burst into laughter when the book flew into Sirius' chest and successfully winded him. Naturally, he played it off.

"Cookies, cookies . . ." mumbled Sirius as he flicked through the pages until he found a recipe. He read off everything they needed in a clear voice and Juliet unceremoniously tossed the ingredients into a bowl, struggling to keep up with all the different instructions.

Upon seeing the lumpy consistency of their mixture, Juliet pouted. "Give me your wand, Sirius," she ordered, trying to snatch the wand from where it was stirring. "You're mixing it all wrong. A blind banshee could do a better job than that."

"Stop touching my wand!" shouted Sirius in a mock stern manner.

"I'm not touching your wand!"

As Sirius reached to pull his wand back, he ended up hitting the bag of flour off the counter, causing the white powder to explode all over the floor. It ultimately formed a thick cloud of white smoke that coated the duo's clothes and faces. Juliet was ready to slap Sirius, but erupted into vibrant laughter alongside him the second they locked eyes. The ridiculousness of the situation was not lost on the pair.

Catching his reflection in kitchen window, Sirius wondered, "Do you think I'll be able to scare Prongs like this?"

"I think he'll know you're not a ghost, if that's what you mean," teased Juliet.

"And I think you don't have enough faith in me," he retorted, preparing to show the girl his best impression of the Bloody Baron.

Too consumed in their bantering, the pair didn't even notice James watching from the doorway with a lopsided grin on his face.

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The Potters, Sirius and Juliet were all sat in the parlour, exchanging gifts. Juliet's unplanned arrival meant she more of an observer, but she liked finding out that not all families were as fractured as hers. The room was filled with a genuine appreciation for each instead of the hostility she was used to at home. Nobody mentioned why she was there or the state she had arrived in, rather, they merely accepted her as one of their own for the day. Never once missing her parents, she watched Sirius frantically unwrap muggle records with a child's giddiness, she watched Mia and Fleamont kiss sweetly under the mistletoe, and she watched James accept her home baked cookies with an irritating smugness.

"Did you make these?" asked James, plucking a blackened chocolate chip cookie out of the container.

She uncrossed and crossed her legs, anxious. "With a little help."

James didn't have to think twice before taking a large bite of the cookie, only to immediately spit it out again. "They're terrible," he confessed, the elation on his face never fading as he turned to where Sirius was sat on the floor. "Padfoot! Remember the prank we had planned for Slughorn? We should use these cookies instead of bludgers."

"And you wonder why I don't like you," Juliet huffed as James failed to muffle his laughter.

Shaking his head, James pulled out a poorly wrapped package from behind him. He offered the gift adorned in red and gold wrapping to Juliet. James scratched his neck — a nervous habit, Juliet had found — and told her, "It's not much. It was kind of last minute, if I'm honest."

Last minute was two purebloods with no cooking experience failing to make cookies at seven a.m, Juliet thought.

"Is this gift going to explode and/or result in the permanent disfigurement of my face?" checked Juliet, raising an eyebrow.

"No promises."

Unnerved, Juliet dropped the package and his mother immediately snapped, "James!"

"Don't you trust me, Julie?" sighed James.

She didn't have the heart to reprehend the boy for the nickname as she was too busy staring at the gift in confusion. After carefully pealing back the layers of crumpled wrapping paper, she found a quill. The redhead wasn't disappointed by the gift, more curious as to why James would give her a quill of all things. It wasn't like they had shared many conversations about their hobbies, nor was she much of a writer. No, the two of them had immediately jumped into deeper and darker discussions.

Peering into the box, she found no ink. "You got me a quill?"

"A quill? Pshh, do you really I'd be that boring, Fawley?" James feigned offence. "It's a self-inking compliment quill. Try writing something mean on the back of this." The boy flipped the wrapping paper over so the white side was on display and pushed it towards Juliet.

With a hum, Juliet scrawled 'James Potter is a twat' on the paper.

Seconds later, the black ink shimmered golden like molten sunlight and the letters rearranged themselves to say 'James Potter is the love of my life.'

"I thought you said it wasn't a prank." She screwed up the paper and tossed the ball at James, grinning in spite of herself. What she really meant to say was nobody had ever bothered to get her such a nice gift before —her parents were usually generous, but impersonal with their gifts. Year after year, she had received the same perfumes and tea sets.

"It's not, not really," insisted James. "I've noticed that you tend to think the worst of situations, of other people, even yourself. But how you think about things is brilliant, honestly. I thought you could start writing some of those things down and the quill will help you see that not everything that can end bad will end bad." He tilted his head up, eyes shining as he stared at the girl beside him. "More importantly, you don't need to see yourself as bad either."

Her mouth was suddenly bone dry and it was the first time in forever she couldn't think of a sarcastic comment. Sirius was too absorbed in figuring out a record player to notice her desperate pleas for assistance, so she stated, "I don't know what to say."

     "What you said at the party was right, Juliet," he lowered his voice as he leaned closer. "I never thought about it like that — like everyone in Slytherin is only living up to what the rest of the school expect of them. You view things so differently and you've helped me see things differently too," divulged James. "I know I may have been a prat to you at first, but I need you to know that you still have a choice in what you become. No matter what anybody else says, your future is not set in stone."

    All her life, Juliet didn't want to accept the help of others. It was in her nature to only be loyal to her own, she trusted her family and nobody else. Things were changing and it was a hard for her abandon what she knew for something new. Yet, as her face rested a hairbreadth apart from James Potter's, she felt a little less scared knowing she was no longer alone.

    "Thank you," she whispered and barely had time to pull back before James had pounced on her, wrapping his arms around her in some kind of headlock . . . Well, he called it a hug, but she found herself stiffening under his touch. Her parents never hugged her, so she was fumbling trying to figure out where to place her hands, or how hard she should squeeze.

     Bright red in the face, James disentangled himself. "Sorry. I should have asked after —"

    "No!" she reassured with wide eyes. "No, it was just unexpected, that's all."

    Embarrassed, the pair glanced away from each other. As if sensing the awkwardness, Sirius stood up and plopped himself between the two, tossing his arms over the back of their shoulders. He began to babble about some muggle band called 'Queen' and — in spite of her initial discomfort — Juliet felt so happy by the end of Christmas Day that she could have sworn she'd have been able to produce fifty patronuses.

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A.N: I know I said I wasn't going to update today but I have way too much free time on my hands now that my uni applications have been sent off. Tomorrow I have a shift sadly, so no update then. I had a lot of fun writing this chapter though, last chapter at the Potters and there's one more over break before we go back to Hogwarts for the new year. It was nice to have Juliet a little more carefree this chapter. Thanks for all the support on the past chapters!