( 𝔳𝔬𝔩𝔲𝔪𝔢 𝔦𝔦𝔦, 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖔𝖚𝖗𝖙𝖞-𝖔𝖓𝖊 ) — a wonderful christmas time

Everybody had spent the rest of the following morning putting up Christmas decorations. Sirius was in an exceptionally good mood; he was actually singing carols, delighted to have company other than a brooding werewolf over for Christmas.

His voice echoed through out the usually cold and empty drawing room, which seemed to have been infected by the festive joy through the house. There was a hearty fire roaring in the serpent-embossed fireplace, the quilted-button leather lounges had been dusted with a jolly green sheen, and the grand piano was laden with Christmas crackers. Even a ten-foot tall tree had been erected in the corner of the room, much to Kreacher's chagrin, who had choked on a few pine needles.

Before the transformation, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place reminded Evangeline too much of Rosier Manor. Emerald and silver no longer brought her much comfort, so she was delighted with the way the house had turned out come Christmas Eve.

As per usual, Molly had barricaded herself in the basement kitchen, accompanied by a battered and bruised Arthur who had gotten out of St. Mungo's the morning of December 24th. Hermione, who had shown up a few days earlier, was chasing around Crookshanks and begging him to stop bothering Kreacher. Sirius was busy entertaining Ginny by transforming to and from dog-form, whilst Remus shared some tricks from his Hogwarts days with Fred and George. Ron and Harry were somewhere upstairs doing who knew what, and Evangeline was easing herself back into playing the piano.

It was a slower rendition of ❛Clair De Lune❜, yet it didn't fail to raise goosebumps over your skin and make the little hairs on the back of your arms stand straight. The brunette hadn't played since the summer she was disowned, yet the years of practice had served her well. The melody flowed beautifully into the moon-drenched sky through a cracked window until Sirius decided it was time for some dancing and charmed the keys to play themselves.

''You can take the girl out of the pure-blood, but you can't take the pure-blood out of the girl,'' the Black man joked as he twirled her through the drawing-room.

Evangeline's dressed shimmered mesmerizingly in the dimly-lit room. It was a heavy gown, with an alluring applique of black lace down the bodice, and a skirt of golden sequins that glittered as they bathed in the flames from the candle's reflective flames.

Remus watched the scene with bated breath as one thought continued to play repetitively in his mind: the Rosier girl looked so beautiful. So completely and utterly beautiful that he didn't deserve someone like her. Someone who was so effortlessly perfect in every way, shape, and form.

As Sirius spun her around the room, he came to the conclusion that someone like his best friend would be perfect for her. Not himself, literally — after all, they were distantly related. But someone who could afford to give her the life she deserved, or just someone who was from the same background as her; rich, aristocratic, and pure.

The Lupin man was none of these things. He was poor, from an ordinary family, and his blood was tainted with an incurable disease that would plague him for the rest of his years on earth. 

However, his thoughts were rather selfish. He pleaded for her to not fall in love with someone else, despite that being exactly what she deserved; he wanted her all to himself, yet never made a move to claim her as his.

It wasn't fair.

''Were you ever taught the Viennese Waltz?'' Sirius asked as the pair slowly came to a stop.

''My mother made me practice until my feet bled,'' the brunette recalled, thinking back to those outlandish dancing she'd been forced to endure in her manor's ballroom. ''Such sweet childhood memories.''

He grinned at her reply as they began the slow and sedate dance. Eventually, Harry and Ron trailed down to join everyone in the drawing room. The Potter boy took a seat between Hermione and Remus, watching peacefully as Evangeline dragged the Weasley boy to teach him some typical pure-blood dances.

''Right, place your right hand on my waist.''

He gasped, horrified. ''Where?''

''On my waist,'' she repeated as he anxiously obliged. ''Now, bend your arm. Sirius, if you please.''

Sirius whisked his wand in the direction of the piano keys; they began to play the melodic rhythm at an intermediate pace. Fred sulked in the corner, watching his little brother dance with the attractive Charms professor, whilst George wolf-whistled and rushed off to get a camera.

Ginny dragged Hermione up, copying Evangeline and Ron's position as they two started to dance. Sirius and Remus followed suit, lunging about clumsily and nearly knocking over a pouffe, before grabbing Harry by the arms and forcing him to join in on the fun.

''Isn't this a sight for sore eyes,'' Molly cooed, entering the drawing room. Her hair had exploded into a big ball of puffiness, and there was some flour smudged on her cheek. ''Dinner is ready, come along now.''

Dinner was more than ready. The table was laden with a spectacular Christmas roast; there were mountains upon mountains of brussel sprouts, carrots, peas, and potatoes, along with towers of gammon, chicken, and turkey. In the very center was a roast duck, it's golden skin glistening handsomely.

They all wasted no time in tucking in, muttering compliments between bites. Remus had finally began to cheer up, too, explaining the function of a rubber duck to a recovering Arthur.

Dessert came soon after. Mince pies were stacked upon one another, as well as truffles, fudge, a variety of tarts, and one massive yule log.

There was a small lull in conversation once everyone had eaten, pre-occupied with nursing their full bellies and recovering from their food-induced comas.

That was the case, at least, until Sirius got that dangerous glint in his eye that was usually followed up by an either silly or stupid statement.

''So, Remus, my dear friend,'' he started, smirking. ''And Evie, of course. How's the one bed working out for you two?''

Multiple pairs of eyes swiveled to the pair (apart from George and Fred, who began wiggling their eyebrows). Remus shrank in his seat, pursing his lips as Evangeline frowned unappreciatively. 

''Don't be so crude, Sirius,'' she tutted, fiddling with her fork.

''I would never. I'm just curious. Might as well make the most out of a situation like that, y'know?

''Padfoot,'' he sighed. ''Wrong moment, mate.''

Evangeline nodded in agreement, refusing to meet anyone's eyes as her cheeks burned a bright red.

'' Oh, come on, we've all done it,'' he chuckled, grinning about her embarrassment. ''Don't tell me you haven't.''

The Rosier girl said nothing, clamping her mouth shut. Of course she hadn't. After all, you were supposed to wait until marriage, and as far as anyone could see, the rings on her fingers weren't engagement or wedding ones.

''I'll make some tea,'' Molly decided, breaking the awkward silence. ''Anyone still hungry?''