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THE WALK BACK TO THE CASTLE WAS SILENT. Rose, Flynn, and Robyn skipped out on meeting George and Lisa at Honeydukes and instead decided to end their Hogsmeade trip then and there, opting to head back to the Gryffindor common room instead.

Robyn offered Sir Cadogan a half-hearted mutter of the password as they entered Gryffindor tower. Once they entered, the trio took their seats around the fireplace, filling up the eerie emptiness rare to the Gryffindor common room. The silence, however, remained.

Robyn trained her eyes on the flames flickering in the fireplace. She couldn't bring herself to meet the concerned gazes of her two friends, whose shadows bounced along the back walls as if they were just as eager for Robyn to say something, anything about this new revelation in her story. That she was actually born Robyn Dumbledore, not Robyn Abrams.

Abrams...Abraham.

Abraham Dumbledore. Her father. But also, it seemed, a murderer.

Or was he?

Obviously he couldn't have killed Robyn like Fudge had said at the Three Broomsticks. What if that meant he hadn't killed anyone there?

Was her mother, Amber, still alive, too?

And if she was...

Why would she abandon me?

Before Robyn could continue her thoughts, it appeared that her friends' patience had worn out, as they finally stopped waiting for Robyn to be the first to break the silence.

"I'm really sorry for pushing so hard that Lupin was your dad," said Flynn quietly, her voice just loud enough to be heard over the crackling of the fire. "I guess I was just so excited for one of us to have a good, living father that I...I got ahead of myself. I'm sorry, Robyn."

Robyn lifted her gaze to look at Flynn, who sat in the armchair next to her with her head bowed low in an uncharacteristically timid gesture.

"It's all right," Robyn replied, gently resting a hand on her friend's arm. "You couldn't have known."

In truth, Robyn hadn't even thought about Lupin since the Three Broomsticks. He seemed like such an unimportant piece of the puzzle now that she knew her mother and father's identities.

However, Rose was quick to erase that judgment from her thoughts. "Not to pry at an empty grave or anything," she said, "but since Lupin's not your father, how does he know your mother?"

Robyn shrugged. "Maybe they were friends at Hogwarts?"

"Possibly," Rose replied, "but the way Lupin talked about her, it seems more complicated than that. You said he sounded...distraught, was it? Yes, distraught, when he talked to you about her."

"Well, if one of my friends and her daughter were brutally murdered by her husband and then you find out fifteen years later that her daughter was actually still alive, I'd be pretty distraught, too," said Flynn. Rose shot her a sharp glare, to which Flynn shrugged her shoulders. "I'm just saying."

Robyn turned her gaze back towards the fireplace, hoping to lose herself in the crackling flames and avoid continuing the conversation about her dead mother and murderous father and what part their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor played in all of it. It was all too much, too fast.

But just as she was beginning to drown out Flynn and Rose's erupting argument, Robyn heard a loud tap at the window behind her.

Then another.

Then another.

Robyn turned around in her chair to see a fluffy grey owl hovering just outside the window, holding a wrapped-up newspaper in her talons. Standing up, Robyn walked over to the window and let Eira in, who dropped the newspaper into Robyn's hand before landing on the rug in front of the fireplace to ruffle her feathers and warm herself from the cold evening air.

Flynn and Rose fell silent as Robyn unraveled the evening's edition of the Daily Prophet. As Robyn skimmed the headlines, one caught her attention.

"Flynn, your father's gone," Robyn said. "He was just sighted in Middlesbrough this afternoon. He's not here anymore."

Robyn glanced up from the paper to see Flynn breathing out a heavy sigh. "Thank Merlin," she said softly. Rose wrapped an arm around Flynn and began to comfortingly rub her back, and Flynn leaned over to rest her head on her friend's shoulder.

With a quick glance down at Eira, who hooted gently back up at her, Robyn silently thanked the Prophet for giving them some good news, any news that she could use to distract them from talking about her parents.

At this point, she'd really rather forget.

◇◇◇

A FEW WEEKS LATER, the term was over and Robyn's friends departed for the holidays. Fred and George headed home to the Burrow to spend time with their family (though Ron stayed behind to spend the holiday with Harry), and Flynn and Lisa went to spend their Christmas with Lisa's aunt Isabella. Only Rose stayed behind with Robyn, on account of her mother traveling to France for the holiday. Rather than stay in the Hufflepuff dorms by herself, Rose had set up camp in Robyn's dorm, using Lisa and Flynn's beds to create a blanket fort for her and her cat, Anastasia.

Christmas morning soon arrived, and with it came excited shouts and pattering feet as those who stayed behind rushed down to the giant magical tree in the common room to open their presents, which had magically appeared during the night.

Robyn, Rose, Harry, and Ron gathered together with their piles of gifts and began to rip open their packages, sending red and green shreds of paper flying through the air like confetti. Several strands of ribbon flew into the fireplace where they ignited and sparked colors of gold and silver in the flames.

The first gift Robyn opened was from Flynn, containing a brand-new copy of Moste Potente Potions. Flipping through, Robyn noted recipes for Polyjuice Potion and other incredibly advanced concoctions that Robyn could only dream of being skilled enough to craft.

Next was from Lisa. It was a small package, and inside was a necklace with a dark pendant on the silver chain. Robyn grinned; there was no way this was just a simple pendant. Unclasping the necklace, Robyn pulled the chain up around her neck, securing it in the back. As soon as she re-clasped the chain, the pendant shifted from dark grey to a searing bright blue, matching Robyn's eyes. There it is, she thought.

The gift from Rose was carefully packaged in brown paper, secured tightly with a piece of twine tied in a bow. Unwrapping it revealed, to no surprise, a hand-made mustard yellow scarf. It was longer than Robyn was tall and felt as soft as Anastasia's fur. It definitely wasn't magically made; no, it was clear Rose had spent hours carefully putting together this scarf.

Naturally, the gift from the twins wasn't wrapped at all. Instead, a box of Zonko's products sat on the floor with little more than a note on the top that read, "TO ROBYN. FROM F&G." No doubt the contents would serve a good purpose in the group's upcoming pranks for the next term.

The last present Robyn opened was from Mrs. Weasley: a crimson-red sweater with a golden 'R' stitched on the front. She held the sweater to her chest and glanced around the floor for a moment, looking to see if she had missed something.

But, no. For the first time in Robyn's life, there was nothing for Christmas from the Frays.

It was an odd sort of feeling of finality that washed over Robyn upon this realization. Though she hadn't heard news from them all term, nor had she received plans from them about Christmas break, it hadn't sunk in quite yet that the Frays were as done with her as she was with them. But this, the lack of a Christmas present from the people she had considered her family, struck differently. It was over. The Frays were gone.

A sudden tapping at the window woke Robyn from her thoughts. She glanced up to see Eira perched at the windowsill, a small, owl-sized, red-and-white scarf wrapped around her feathery grey neck. Robyn opened the window and Eira hopped inside, no doubt there to join them in Christmas celebrations. Robyn turned back around to face the others, with Eira sitting contently atop her shoulder.

"What did you get, Rose?" She asked as Eira hopped off her shoulder and onto the coffee table, picking at a few of the holiday nuts in the candy dish.

Rose looked up and grinned. "Well, you already know what you got me, thank you," she said, gesturing to the broomstick cleaning kit next to her. "And let's see here, Flynn got me a copy of Quidditch Through the Ages, that same necklace from Lisa, only look, mine's hazel, and a cat care kit from Mum, a new Beater's club from Aunt Mariana, a sweater from Mrs. Weasley, and a belled cat collar for Anastasia from Fred and George. They even included a little note, look."

Robyn took the note card from Rose's outstretched hand and read the scrawled handwriting of the twins: So when Anastasia gets lost again, at least we'll hear where she is!

Robyn grinned, handing the note back to Rose. Instead of grabbing it with the hand Robyn had offered it to, however, Rose took it with the other, keeping her left hand in her lap, its fist closed tightly. Robyn lifted her eyebrows.

"What's that you've got there?" She asked curiously.

"Nothing," Rose said, shaking her head. "Just a little thing from Oliver."

"From OLIVER?" A voice yelled from across the room. The two whipped their heads around to see Ron grinning mischievously, his red hair still matted from last night's rest, Scabbers clutched in his fist.

"Oh, piss off, Ron," Rose joked, smiling. Her eyes flickered towards Harry, who sat in one of the armchairs with a large object in his lap, half-obscured by its wrapping, and her smile vanished. "Blimey, is that what I think it is?" She asked.

Robyn glanced over at Rose before looking back at Harry's lap. "What is it?"

Rose jumped up from her seat on the floor, sending Anastasia out of her lap and reeling onto the carpet in a disgruntled heap. She rushed over to Harry and gently picked up the object in his lap, revealing a pristine, brand-new broomstick.

"Merlin's beard, Harry, it's a Firebolt!" Rose breathed. "Where did this come from?"

Robyn stood up slowly before making her way over to Harry, Rose, and Ron. A broomstick like that must have cost a fortune. No ordinary person could possibly afford it, save for someone like Flynn.

Another voice piped up from the bottom of the stairwell, this time much more high-pitched and cautious. "Oh, Harry! Who sent you that?"

Hermione Granger stood at the bottom of the staircase, her brown hair even frizzier than usual, clad in striped Christmas pajamas, and clutching Crookshanks in her arms. Robyn saw out of the corner of her eye Ron instinctively bring Scabbers protectively up to his chest.

"No idea," Harry said, addressing both Rose and Hermione. "There wasn't a card or anything with it." He reached up and grabbed the Firebolt back from Rose, whose jaw was still agape as she stared at the flawless broomstick.

"So it wasn't Flynn?" Robyn asked as Hermione trudged over to join the group. Harry shook his head.

"But it must have been really expensive," Hermione pressed. "Who would send Harry something as expensive as that, and not even send a card or some note telling him they'd sent it?"

Robyn looked down at Hermione, starting to put the pieces together. "Yeah," she added, "maybe we shouldn't ride that broom yet."

"Why not?" Ron asked. "C'mon, Harry, please—"

In that moment, however, Crookshanks leapt from Hermione's arms and straight at Ron's chest. Scabbers jumped out of Ron's hands and scurried across the floor and up the stairs towards the boys' dormitories. Crookshanks, Ron, and Hermione sped off after the rat, leaving Harry, Rose, and Robyn alone in the Common Room.

"So, Rose," Robyn said after they had gone, "what was it that Oliver got you for Christmas?" She and Harry both grinned as a uncharacteristically deep flush washed over Rose's face.

"It's really nothing," she said, opening her fist, "but it's sweet." In Rose's palm sat a necklace with a golden snitch pendant. The wings of the snitch beat rhythmically, as though they were mimicking a heartbeat. Robyn saw a small smile grow on Rose's face and the wings of the snitch began to beat faster.

"I've never seen Wood put in that much effort into anything except Quidditch," said Harry, giving Rose a pointed look.

Robyn laughed. "Poor boy's smitten with you. I hope you got him something good in return."

At that, the flush on Rose's face deepened even further. "Oh," she said quietly, "I'm not worried about that at all."