Diego had often imagined what it would be like to introduce Sarah to his family as his girlfriend, but it had never looked like this.
Sarah smiled and shook the hands of his parents, grandparents, and his aunt and uncle, though she could barely suppress a yawn after their long escape to the continent. She wore a baggy sweatshirt and jeans, which she'd had to transfigure from her light pajamas, and her hair hadn't been brushed in the over twenty-four hours they'd been traveling.
Still, even Diego looked travel worn, and his family seemed ecstatic to finally meet the woman they'd been hearing so much about. Only his Abuela narrowed her eyes when introduced to Sarah, and it was subtle enough that she didn't notice.
The journey had been tense. Fortunately, many of the group were muggleborn and understood about muggle transportation, and they were able to help the others navigate the wonders of purchasing a bus ticket. Still, it was the first time any of them had ventured farther than the farmyard on Evans Estate since they'd had to flee for their lives from Lord Voldemort's regime. The group of twenty people kept looking over their shoulders with ashen faces and cowering at alarming noises.
Though she hid it well, Diego could tell Sarah was also furious with him for going back to get her as they escaped.
"I wasn't about to leave you there!" he'd tried to explain under his breath on one of the buses.
Sarah had stared out the window with folded arms. "You are the only hope these people have of getting to safety, and you abandoned them."
"Yes, to make sure you were safe. And I'd do it again."
No reply.
At the villa, when Sarah wasn't being praised and teased in equal measure by his family, she stayed close to Penny, cuddling Sophia.
The refugees were put at ease by Diego's jovial family, his four little cousins running around and vying for attention, and a tour of the villa and accompanying land.
"So, you really don't have to deal with all this 'Dark Lord' stuff over here?" Merula asked as they strolled among the grapevines (the harvest had ended just before their arrival).
"Not so much," said his father. "We knew something terrible was happening in England, but we were very surprised when Diego told us the truth. That He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned. We nearly didn't believe him, yes?"
He nudged Diego's mother, who nodded as she pushed her thick, brown hair behind her.
"All we knew here was the news from your ministry and rumors that friends and family we're going missing over there."
Dinner was a large affair, as it always was in the Caplan household. His Abuela cooked enough Chicken Paella to feed a hundred people rather than twenty, and she made sure to recruit plenty of help, too.
"This one is useless," she finally said, gently shoving Sarah away so that Penny could flip the tortillas instead.
"Sorry," muttered Sarah, hurrying to sit by his Abuelo instead. "I've always been a terrible cook."
"Don't you worry," chuckled Abuelo, wrapping an arm around Sarah and giving her a friendly shake. "A face that beautiful doesn't need to cook, yes Diego?"
Diego smiled, but said nothing.
"For myself, I prefer a full stomach to a full heart. That's why I married your Abuela."
Abuelo and Uncle Hugo laughed. Abuela shook her fork threateningly at him. "Careful Dulzura, or you won't need to see the future to know your bed will be found outside tonight."
"You're a seer?" Sarah asked him.
Abuelo tilted his head back and forth. "More or less."
"So, can you find out how this war is gonna end?" asked Merula, pulling her arm out of Diego's cousin's grip.
"Eh, I do not like to see into those kinds of things. The future...is messy. You can see an end and not know the path to get there, or you can see multiple paths and never discover where they might lead. It is better to leave it alone."
"Then what sort of things do you foretell?"
"Little things. What would be the best time to harvest the grapes, who to trust to sell my wine--"
"Who a person should or shouldn't love," piped in Abuela.
"Hush Ana, and pay attention the cooking or you'll burn your guests' food," said Abuelo in Spanish.
Abuela swore at him but turned back to the stove.
Dinner was delicious, as it always was at the villa, and among the cheery conversation, the sights and smells of home, Diego allowed himself to forget his troubles for a bit.
After dinner, Penny, Sarah, and Diego helped wash the dishes, then his uncle vanished the tables and chairs.
"If you will be staying long with the Medina family, you must learn our greatest family tradition. After the work is done, we dance."
Another wave of the wand and his well-worn guitar appeared in his hand.
"Diego, you are the best dancer in the family, apart from me, of course. Will you and your lovely lady start us off?"
As his father, mother, aunt, and grandfather conjured their instruments, Diego bowed and held out a hand to Sarah, who took it shyly.
His family started up a quick-paced Paso Doble, and Sarah squealed and laughed as Diego spun her around like a top. They had danced together many times before, and though she was a bit rusty, they soon found their stride, and his uncle encouraged others to join the dance.
Tentatively, other guests began to dance, and Diego's little cousins joined in the fun, too. They ran among the dancers, chasing bubbles and butterflies conjured from Abuela's wand. Soon, Uncle Hugo could resist the urge to join them no longer. He bewitched his instrument to play without him, grabbed his wife's hand, and together they swirled about the room. Soon, everyone was laughing and dancing for song after song.
After a time, it became clear to everyone, though it was never spoken allowed, that Diego and his Uncle were in competition. One-by-one, the other dancers made room on the floor for the two couples, choosing to clap along to the music and watch instead.
Diego knew his aunt and uncle were gifted dancers. No doubt they were moving together with such grace and rhythm, anyone watching would think it rehearsed. But Diego only focused on his own partner. Sarah may not have had as much experience at Spanish dances, but she was a beautiful figure and she followed Diego's lead almost perfectly.
The song they were playing was fast and passionate. Diego let his hands travel up Sarah's body, adding chemistry to the performance. While Sarah shuddered at first, she followed his lead on this as well, letting her hips sink into his before he dipped her down and eyeing him with longing when she snapped back up to face him.
As the song came to its crescendo, both men twirled their partners several times. Sarah's hair whipped around her. She spun faster and faster, until Diego pulled her into him and they stopped on the last note, their faces inches apart, breathing heavy.
The other guests clapped along. Uncle Hugo, his face shiny with sweat, patted Diego on the back. Both men turned to Abuelo, who considered both of them for a moment before inclining his head in his Uncle's direction.
"Hah! You still can't keep up with these fancy feet, my boy!" shouted his Uncle.
"You won't be saying that after I challenge you to a duel."
Hugo held up his hands in surrender. "No no, I concede you are superior in that area."
Once the party had died down, Diego's father helped everyone find rooms, made slightly difficult on Abuela's insistence that boys stayed on side of the villa and girls on the other.
Sarah accompanied him on another evening stroll, and he was glad to see her anger was forgotten, at least for the moment.
"This place is beautiful," she said, as they strolled down a path that moved downhill, his family's and the neighboring vineyards stretched out before them. "You're so lucky you grew up here."
"Well, I spent most of the time in London, but I did visit my abuelos often in the summer."
"Your family loves you very much." She smiled. "I like seeing them brag on you. It explains a lot."
"Like what?" he laughed.
"You know...your confidence."
"No no, that comes from my natural brilliance."
Sarah laughed. "Exactly."
It was nearly dark by the time they returned to the villa, but his Abuela was waiting for him by the door.
"Nieto, will you come speak with me a moment?"
"Of course, Abuela."
He pecked Sarah on the cheek before following his grandmother into the sitting room. His Abuelo was seated in an armchair, his eyes closed. Abuela slapped him lightly on the chest, making him jump as his eyes fluttered open.
"Go on, tell him what you told me," she said in Spanish.
"Ana..."
"He needs to know! Tell him of your vision."
"What vision?" asked Diego in English. His Spanish was not as good as it was back when he visited every summer.
Abuelo sighed. "I have had a vision concerning you. I don't like to read much into my visions, but it was...worrisome. So, I consulted many mediums of fortelling the future, and...I fear what should happen if you return to England."
"Why? What will happen?"
"You'll die, hijo," said his Abuela.
Diego felt his heart drop.
"What?"
"As I said before, it is impossible to say for certain what the future holds," said Abuelo, leaning forward in his chair," but it appears that your fate, if you choose to continue fighting in this war, is for your life to be claimed by it."
Diego looked back and forth from his Abuelo, somber and silent, to his Abuela, who nodded vigorously as she paced the floor.
"So...so, if I go back to England...I'll die?" asked Diego, his mind spinning.
"Yes, so you must stay here!" said Abuela.
"But, I've got to go back," said Diego, though he could feel his body becoming clammy. "I'm sure loads of people are fated to die in this war. Knowing I'm one of them doesn't make any difference. I've got to do my part to take as many Death Eaters out with me as I can, and to--"
"To watch over a girl who doesn't love you?" spat Abuela.
"Woman!" said Abuelo, raising his voice for the first time.
"It's true, you saw it in your visions."
The room seemed to have been transfigured into a freezer, such was the chill. Diego was surprised his breath didn't come out as fog as he asked, "Abuelo?"
"As I said, after my...disturbing vision, I couldn't help but look into your future with the utmost care. It seems clear that the girl does not feel the same for you as you do for her, and it doesn't seem likely that she ever will."
Diego's eyes traveled between the pair of them, his blood boiling in his ears. Then, he scoffed.
"Well, isn't it convenient that every reason I have for returning to England is no longer possible?"
Abuela stamped her foot. "Are you calling your Abuelo a liar?!"
"No, of course not. But, he said himself the future is foggy at best. Perhaps you saw what you wanted to see so that I'd stay with you all."
Abuelo lowered his head in acknowledgement.
"It is possible."
"No, it's not!" yelled Abuela. "And even if it was, why risk it? Stay here, Diego. Do not deprive your poor mother of another Christmas without her only son. Find a Spanish girl who will love you with her whole heart. Live a long and happy life with your family, rather than die by the hand of some insane Englishman."
A moment of silence followed Abuela's passionate speech. Diego stared at the tiled floor, pretending to think, though his brain seemed completely empty. Finally, he looked up at his Abuelo.
"How certain are you of the future? Can these events be changed?"
"Certainly. But it depends on thousands of choices, some of which are not yours to make."
Diego nodded. "But a chance is still a chance."
Abuela stuttered, but Abuelo cut her off.
"I admire your courage. You do your family proud. Whatever you decide, we will stand by that decision. I only ask you to think on what I've said."
"I will," he said. "Will you...not speak of this to anyone else? Especially Mama?"
Abuela looked ready to object, but Abuelo placed a hand on her arm and nodded. "Certainly. Good night."
Diego bid them goodnight, then climbed the stairs to his old room, though he he knew there was no chance of procuring any sleep.