CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT
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-: sixth year :-
── IN WHICH THE POTTERS HAVE A GUEST
. . .
One thing that Tiger hated about Winter, despite the beauty in the unmarked, early morning snow, was how cold it was. She wasn't a fan of the cold.
She liked summer dresses, and laying in the grass and drinking tall glasses of pink lemonade which had ice and those stupid tiny umbrellas floating in.
Tiger liked to wear short skirts and blouses with puffy sleeves that ended just above her belly button, to wear those circle of plaited thread which made rainbow ring around her ankles and wrists.
Summer seemed to comfortable, so friendly. And in comparison to the harsh, cruel days of Winter, the season in the center of the year was just so much more desirable.
Tiger Howell was wishing it was Summer as she wandered up and down the lanes of the almost deserted village. Snow had began to fall, and there wasn't a sound. But she wasn't scared, she had never been afraid of the dark.
She was scared of what could be there, but she knew there was nothing. Tiger knew how it felt when things were there that shouldn't be, and this wasn't the time.
The inevitable fight with her mother had happened, not five minutes after returning to their home. It began over something stupid - Tiger leaving her shoes by the door to let them dry.
It had quickly turned into a typical Grace Howell shouting match, except this time, Tiger wasn't in the mood. She picked up the bag she had left, and put on the same wet shoes and left, her mother's shouts behind her.
The walk back to the village was only ten or so minutes, and when she got there, sitting on the curb, not caring about the snow, Tiger had pulled her wand out of her bag and held it out into the road.
The Knight Bus had appeared within seconds, a tall, bright purple metal structure which seemed to concerningly lean too much towards the right side. Reading the address off of the letter which she never ended up sending to James, Tiger sat down on one of the chairs, and offered the driver one of the butterscotches from the plastic container that her Auntie Hope had given her.
Upon the candy being kindly refused, Tiger, using her rails that lined the middle of the bus to swing her way back to her seat, tucking away the sweets.
She was trying to make the best of the situation, she really was. But there was something about leaving home with only a small bag and her Hogwarts case that felt inherently wrong.
Tiger was unaware of whether she would be able to return home, if that was to be during the Christmas holidays or later on. But all the same, she felt the twinge of guilt as she thought of her father and Tilly.
Neither of them deserved it, to be the witness of so many shouting matches between mother and daughter. Yet they were, which was just unfair.
"At least they won't see that now." Tiger murmured to herself, trying to expell that oh-so-achy feeling in the pit of her stomach. "It'll be peaceful for them."
She also tried hard to forget that she was seemingly the only person on the bus, and when the man who had pulled her trunk onto the bus offered her a free complimetary hot chocolate ( which Tiger knew was something that usually came with a price ), it felt just a tiny bit worse.
And what finally brought that awful feeling to the very pinnacle point of pain, was when they stopped in the village that was covered in snow, and she was told that she wouldn't need to pay for her ride.
"Thank you." She said, for at least the tenth time, as she exited the bus. Her trunk being pulled off and being left by her feet, and her container of butterscotch two pieces lighter as the driver and man had finally accepted her offer of the candy.
Everything was so disorientating in the snow, even though it had stopped and the quickly-setting winter sun was still trying it's hardest to cast light on the village.
Yet again, nobody was around, and it soon turned from dusk to night. And in the dark, it was even worse. Tiger couldn't even remember what the village looked like in the summer, and how they had made their way to James's house.
But after what seemed hours, and after relying on only the small signs which announced the street names, Tiger finally ended up on the doorstep of a rather cosy yet large looking house, which had a bright red door and a wreath attached to the top of it.
She felt so incredibly awkward doing it, but she was so cold. And so, Tiger lifted her hand up to the door, and used the brass ring that was attached to a depiction of a lion to knock on the door.
After a couple of minutes, the door opened, and a warm light flooded the snow covered road. Euphemia Potter had answered the door, and her look of confusion turned to one of shock as she took in Tiger's appearance, from the snow covered hair, to the soaking through shoes and the Hogwarts trunk was she was clinging onto so tightly that her knuckles had turned white.
"Please come in, you must be freezing." The woman had recognised Tiger instantly, and stepped out into the cold world to help her pull her suitcase in. "What a surprise, and on the evening of Christmas day as well."
"I'm so sorry." Tiger instantly said, and Euphemia, having summoned a towel with a simple murmur, careful was drying the girl's hair.
"Don't worry about it, dear." She smiled, patting the shoulders of Tiger, after she pulled off the girl's coat, only to see that the snow had soaked through. "Would you like a change of clothes, or anything to warm you up?"
"I think I'm fine." Tiger said, her voice gently as she pulled off her shoes, Euphemia sending them through a doorway with a flick of her wand, presumably to dry in front of the fire. "I'm sorry it's so late."
"Tiger, it's fine. Remember, I told you that you are welcome here any hour of the day. I'm just glad you got here before it got any later or colder." Euphemia smiled, a warm sort of smile that Tiger wished she could see from her own mother just once.
"Come on, James has been waiting for you. Not so patiently as you may imagine." Euphemia laughed, just slightly, and Tiger let a smile creep onto her lips. The woman lead her through into the living room, which was appropriately decorated for Christmas.
And sat by the fire, hidden behind the sofa and the armchair where Fleamont Potter was sat, was James and Sirius, both of them wearing pajamas, which seemed to be matching sets - of grey and red tartan. James was wearing the gray top and tartan bottoms, whilst with Sirius it was the opposite.
"Who was it mum?" James asked, who, despite what Euphemia had said, was constantly oblivious to the most obvious of situations.
"A certain guest." Euphemia said, sharing a smile with her husband, who had greeted Tiger silently, with a nod and a smile, which was more than enough for the girl.
"A guest?" James asked, turning around, finally seeing the girl stood next to his mother, half drenched from the snow, half in the golden light of the fire. "Tiger." He said, scrambling to his feet and rushing over to her, scooping her up in his arms as a hug.
"Careful." Tiger laughed, wrapping her arms around James's neck as he slightly turned, narrowly missing the Christmas tree. "I take it you missed me."
James didn't answer, but nodded, his forehead resting on Tiger's shoulder. "You're soaking, what happened?" He asked, looking at her, letting Tiger push up his glasses for him.
"Prongsie, it was snowing all night." Tiger replied, and James finally put her down, and Tiger looked over, to see Sirius beaming. "Merry Christmas Twinkletoes."
"Merry Christmas Tiger." Sirius replied, and James pulled Tiger down to sit next to the fireplace, insisting she needed to warm up. And lent on his back, Tiger was handed a hot chocolate from Euphemia.
Her eyes focused on the flames of the fire, and the boy, who was so carefully holding her, gazing down at her like she was something other-worldly.
Spending the little time of Christmas day that was remaining in a place which actually wanted her there.
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