happy new year pt.1

December 29th, 1995

DAISY HAD RECEIVED so many inputs, ideas, and questions from the other children.

She could tell that Mr. Weasley had more to say and ask as well, but Mrs. Weasley kept holding him back. And despite Sirius' silence, she could feel his expectant eyes from time to time. He looked so hopeful.

Daisy tried to be selfish, to not think about everyone's expectation. She tried to think about what's best for her. However, she also couldn't shoo away the thought that what was best for her could also be the best for everyone around her.

The problem was, everyone had their own preferred solution. Some even clashed with the other.

So, Daisy stayed silent about the ordeal.

That noon, she was still excused from chores due to her unfit figure. She sat on the drawing room's bench, occasionally looking out the window towards the empty road then back inside the room, where the four boys used their normal broom to imagine a scene of swordfight while Hermione and Ginny cleaned the furniture with wet napkins.

The brown-haired girl kept on shaking her head in disapproval while the ginger girl didn't seem to mind the ruckus.

Suddenly, a newcomer came strutting in, acting as though it couldn't see them. It shuffled hunchbacked, slowly and doggedly, toward the far end of the room, muttering under its breath all the while in a hoarse, deep voice like a bullfrog's.

"...so many forbidden colors, this Christmas, because of this bunch of nasty blood traitors and brats messing up my Mistress's house, oh my poor Mistress, if she knew, if she knew the scum they've let in her house, what would she say to old Kreacher, oh the shame of it, Mudbloods and werewolves and traitors and thieves, poor old Kreacher, what can he do..."

Daisy looked at it with eyes wide and full of wonder. She had seen pictures and drawings of house-elves in printing, but never in real life.

It looked very old. Bald, with a quantity of white hair frowning out of its large, batlike ears. Except for the filthy rag tied like a loincloth around its middle, it was completely naked.

"Hello, Kreacher," said Fred very loudly.

The house-elf froze in his tracks, stopped muttering, and then gave a very pronounced and very unconvincing start of surprise.

"Kreacher did not see Young Master," he said, turning around and bowing to Fred. Still facing the carpet, he added, perfectly audibly, "Nasty little brat of a blood traitor it is."

"Sorry?" said George. "Didn't catch that last bit."

"Kreacher said nothing," said the elf, with a second bow to George, adding in a clear undertone, "and there's its twin, unnatural little beasts they are."

Daisy closed her mouth to stifle her laughter.

"...and there's the Mudblood, standing there bold as brass, oh if my Mistress knew, oh how she'd cry, and there's a new girl looking so battered, Kreacher doesn't know her name, what is she doing here, Kreacher doesn't know, but Kreacher hears she is a Muggle, if that's even possible..."

"This is Daisy, Kreacher," said Hermione tentatively.

Kreacher's pale eyes widened and he muttered faster and more furiously than ever. "The Mudblood is talking to Kreacher as though she is my friend, if Kreacher's Mistress saw him in such company, oh what would she say—"

"Don't call her a Mudblood!" said Ron and Ginny together in anger.

"—and a real Muggle, trampling the holy carpet of this house, such a disgusting and lowly creature who is of no use and no power, oh my Mistress would faint—"

"Kreacher!"

Daisy turned red under the accusation. Thankfully, Sirius appeared by the door, glowering and cutting his hurtful banter short. "What are you doing?"

"Kreacher is cleaning," the elf said evasively.

"A likely story. Now, what are you up to?"

"Kreacher is cleaning," the elf repeated. "Kreacher lives to serve the noble house of Black—"

"—and it's getting blacker every day, it's filthy," said Sirius.

"Master always liked his little joke," said Kreacher, bowing again, and continuing in an undertone, "Master was a nasty ungrateful swine who broke his mother's heart—"

"My mother didn't have a heart, Kreacher," Sirius snapped. "She kept herself alive out of pure spite."

Kreacher bowed again and said, "Whatever Master says," then muttered furiously, "Master is not fit to wipe slime from his mother's boots, oh my poor Mistress, what would she say if she saw Kreacher serving him, how she hated him, what a disappointment he was—"

"Get out!"

It seemed that Kreacher did not dare disobey a direct order. Nevertheless, the look he gave Sirius as he shuffled out past him was redolent of deepest loathing and he muttered all the way out of the room.

"—comes back from Azkaban ordering Kreacher around, oh my poor Mistress, what would she say if she saw the house now, scum living in it, her treasures thrown out, she swore he was no son of hers and he's back, they say he's a murderer too—"

"Keep muttering and I will be a murderer!" said Sirius irritably, and he slammed the door shut on the elf. "I understand why you're doubting the idea of living here, Dais. That thing makes a terrible housemate."

"Oh, no—" Daisy said, blushing, "It's fine."

"It's not fine," Fred said angrily, "Don't mind a word it said, Dee. It's been brainwashed then left alone for too long."

"Muggles have their own life purposes and talents, too," Sirius grumbled, "I never understood how some stupid blokes translated magic into supremacy. Fred's right —don't mind a word it said. Consider them rubbish."

"Do all— house-elves— act like that?" she asked, amused.

"Nah."

"You should meet Dobby," Harry said.

✿ ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿

December 30th, 1995

"HOW DID KEEPING Daisy in the dark kept her safe from Voldemort?" Harry asked out of the blue.

Ron shrugged, "Dunno. Dad said if she keeps on coming over, the Ministry might find out."

"Haven't Percy told the Ministry about her? I mean, if he really wanted to show his loyalty, he could."

"Maybe he didn't want to be scrutinized. He did play his part in smuggling Daisy into the Quidditch Worldcup and telling her things for the last ten years," Hermione said. She paused. "Or maybe he still cared."

Ron scoffed at that.

Hermione returned to the initial topic and guessed, "Maybe... Maybe Mr. and Mrs. Weasley thought if the Death Eaters raided the Burrow and found Daisy there, they would definitely kill her. Or, you know, ambush her on her way to or from her house. Ask her what she knew about the Order... like Neville's parents."

Harry nodded, silently agreeing that those reasons made sense.

"And she has a life, you know. Sometimes we forget about that," Ron quipped, "She has her own school and family and friends, aside from us. They're not less important."

✿ ❀ ✿ ❀ ✿

December 31st, 1995

"TONKS? CAN I— bother you for— a minute, please?"

"Yes, of course, please!" Tonks said energetically, "Anything I can help?"

Daisy came closer to her side and said in a whisper, "Is there any way— for me to talk to— my Father? Mrs. Weasley— said something about— a payphone."

"Oh... Yeah, there's a payphone just down the road. Do you want to go now?"

"Can I?"

Tonks looked at the clock and said, "Sure, it's dark already. Shouldn't be too risky. Hang on—"

She sauntered off to talk to Moody, then to Mrs. Weasley, before returning with Lupin in tow. "Come on, take Molly's coat."

Daisy gave one last glance at her redheaded family before heading out the door.

There was some invisible force that she could not see but could perceive, standing between the porch of 12 Grimmauld Place and the Muggle world beyond. Her first step out of the house was warm, but the next ones were chilly.

It was beautifully snowing.

Daisy always loved the scenery of December. She enjoyed distinguishing the snow, the stars, and the bright glow of candles or lamps, all contrasting starkly against the midnight blue sky.

The wind blew coldly against her less swollen face and she tugged Mrs. Weasley's hickory trench coat tighter around her body.

"Have you reached a decision yet?" Lupin asked.

"No... Not exact—ly."

"How's the recovery going?"

"Very well, thank you— for asking. The bruises look— better, don't they?"

"They do. I can't wait to see how your real face is supposed to look like," Tonks nodded, "And the leg?"

"I think I can— return Moody's walking stick— in a few days."

"You don't have to rush it. Healing takes time."

Right at the very end of the identical row of houses stood a lone payphone booth, illuminated by a flickering lamppost.

Lupin handed her some coins and told her they would wait by the lamppost, to give her some privacy.

Daisy waited for quite a long time with her hand hovering over the coin slot... Hesitating... Longing... Doubting... Wanting...

The thought of Lupin and Tonks waiting for her in the sharp cold compelled her to finally put in the coin and punched in the number.

Her heart hammered hard against her chest with every ringing tone... And when a click was finally heard, she felt like her heart momentarily stopped.

"Hello, you have reached Allen Residence. May I know who I'm speaking to?"

It was a stern but melodious voice she had conversed with each and every day. Daisy stammered, "M— Ms. Aubert?"

There was a static silence.

"Y— Young Miss Jane? Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me," Daisy breathed out, holding the receiver with both hands.

"Oh! Miss, you went missing! We're all worried sick! You were kidnapped by the Weasleys, weren't you?"

"No, they saved— me. They took care of— me very well and— of my injuries. I am almost— as good as— new now."

"You still don't sound so good... Are you coming back? Where are you right now?"

"Uh... Can I talk to Father?"

"Oh, dear, forgive me. That was out of line. Yes, sure!"

"Ms. Aubert—"

"Yes?"

"Please tell the others— they shouldn't worry anymore. Tell Lucy how immensely— grateful I am. And please— take care of— my father."

"Of course, Miss Jane. It would be my privilege. Let me connect you to Master Allen."

There was a second of quiet before Ms. Aubert speak once more.

"Between you and me, you should stay wherever you have the most safety and comfort, Young Miss. We're praying for you."

And the warm sentence was drowned by another set of ringing.

Click.

"J— Jane? Is that— Is that really—"

She wanted to call out 'Father', but she found herself unable to speak.

"How— How are you? Are you better now? I'm sorry, I lost control again. I have no excuse. Are you with the Weasleys? You are, aren't you? You've been in contact with them against my order, haven't you? Mingling with those weird folks... How did they get to your room that night, anyway? Not through the front door, I'm sure. Kidnapping someone's child... Butting into other family's matter..."

"They are more— of a family to— me than you are, Father," Daisy said defensively before she could stop herself. "Please don't insult— their kindness. Without them, I— would still be in— constant pain and oblivion."

"I'm sorry. You're right. When are you coming back?"

"Before that, about Cambridge—"

"Jane, can't you think about HLS one more time? See how it's so much better than Engineering—"

"I have, numerous times— and I choose Cambridge, Father," Daisy huffed, "If you are— not willing to support me, I'll take care of— myself from this— point on."

"Don't say that..." Mr. Allen heaved a heavy sigh. "Alright, I'll do it. I'll send an e-mail to confirm your enrollment and pay for your tuition."

"Promise?"

"I promise. Where are you right now? Shall I pick you up?"

"I... I'd like to— stay here, Father."

"W— With the Weasleys? Where?"

"Somewhere..." Daisy glanced at Tonks and Lupin, who didn't seem to mind about her at all. They were talking and smiling as Lupin fixed the scarf around Tonks' neck. "I've finished my homeschool— curriculum early. I've passed all tests— and I've been accepted— into university. I'd love to use my free— time before enrolling— next year's September—"

"At home! You should stay here at home! Who's going to take care of our residence then?"

"Ms. Aubrey would do— a magnificent job."

"And your friends here? What about Vincent? And Marisol, Atlas, Dom—"

"My friends would understand— why I leave."

The two Allens went dead silent.

"I... I understand my fault, Jane. Please forgive me."

"I'm not leaving— forever, Father," her tone softened, "I will visit. And you can visit— me at the dormitory. I just... don't want to be— the victim anymore."

"I understand..."

"Father... You need help."

"I know. I'm getting one, I do. Why don't— why don't you come and take some fresh clothes? Drop by for dinner. How about— How about Vincent's birthday? I'll invite him and your friends over, if you'd like."

"Okay..." Daisy responded, "I'll come by."

"I'm really sorry, Jane."

"Happy New Year, Father. I hope we can— start afresh."

"Happy New Year."

Daisy put the reciever back to its place, ending the call, and forced a smile. She guessed she had reach a definite decision, then.

She's staying.