Susan eyed the brightly decorated shops and sighed wistfully. She half-wished she’d had the heart to join the masses of people buying last-minute Christmas gifts and drunkenly singing carols. The feeling of loneliness never felt as prominent as it did during the holiday season. Ernie’s death the previous May had left Susan completely alone. She hadn’t seen Hannah since the funeral — in truth, she had not seen any of her fellow classmates since that day. At times, she wondered if she was purposefully avoiding any situations in which she might find a familiar face in order to suppress the painful memories.

The deaths of both her best friend and her aunt had hit her hard; she felt as though she had aged more in these seven months than she ever had in her life. After spending months under the worried scrutiny of her parents, Susan had moved out and purchased her own place, though at times she wondered if the added loneliness made it really worth it. In the private confines of her flat, she even thought longingly back to the days before the Battle, the days when she had someone who cared about her. She would even tolerate Ernie’s excessive protectiveness — something that had once annoyed her to no end — if she could see him again.

Her longing for things to go back to normal was what kept her from moving forward. At times she felt as though the world around her was moving faster and faster, leaving her suspended in a timeless, stationary place.

Susan was roughly jolted out of her reverie as she nearly ran into a group of witches standing in a semi-circle, each wearing bright purple uniforms.

“Will you spare a Knut for the less fortunate?� asked the witch at the front of the formation, gazing at Susan imploringly as she held a small brown bag out in front of her. Less fortunate! Susan wanted to scoff. Everyone is happy now that You-Know-Who is gone and moved on with their lives. Everyone but me. This sudden impulse surprised her; she felt a wave of regret as she realized that she was becoming less and less of a true Hufflepuff everyday.

“It’s a good cause,� one of the younger girls in the back added quickly, noting Susan’s hesitation. You are half the witch you once were, Susan, she scolded herself. She opened her purse and dropped in ten Sickles in order to appease her conscience. The surprised exclamations of thanks from the witches made Susan smile inside. She was almost feeling like her old self again.

“That was quite generous of you.�

Susan turned away from the witches in front of her toward the voice, and froze. In front of her stood Theodore Nott, whom she remembered as a Slytherin, and the son of a Death Eater. The warmth inside of her vanished, replaced by an overwhelming feeling of anger.

“As if you would know anything about generosity,� she snapped. The ferocity in her voice surprised her, and evidently the charity witches, who began muttering to each other as they walked away.

Theodore raised his eyebrows, taken aback by her reaction. “What’s got your wand in a knot?� he asked, somewhat defensively.

“What do you want me to say?� Susan went on, her face flushing with emotion. “The Battle was only months ago. I haven’t forgotten where you stood.�

He looked at her strangely, frowning as if deep in thought. “Bones? Susan Bones?� He asked, his features softening with recognition. “I didn’t think you were one to judge.�

“Perhaps I’ve changed,� she said acidly. “I lost everything in that war, Nott. My best friend was murdered that night by your lot.� She looked away, focusing her eyes on the flashing of Christmas lights in the distance to suppress the maddening urge to cry. Theodore didn’t speak for a long time, and for a moment, Susan thought he had left. Turning her head, though, she saw that he was still standing there, gazing at the snow around his feet.

“I never stayed for the Battle,� he said finally. “I left with the rest of the Slytherins. I think some came back to help your side.� He swallowed, lifting his gaze to her face. “I couldn’t.� Susan opened her mouth to retort, but realized she could not hate him for leaving a battle she wished in part she hadn’t stayed to fight. If she could go back in time, she wasn’t certain she would do so again.

“It wasn’t just your side that lost people,� Theodore continued, his voice rising. “My father was killed.�

“I’m sorry,� Susan said softly, though as soon as the words left her mouth she wished she hadn’t spoken. How many times had she heard those same words uttered to her since the Battle? She remembered being angry with the people who apologized, as if by saying those two words they could somehow fix everything. Many of these people had miraculously come out of the Battle without a single loss — they knew nothing of suffering.

“He wasn’t a good man. I know that,� he said bitterly. “But do you know what’s worse than being pitied? When no one gives a damn that your father died. He’ll never be seen as a real person. To the rest of the world, he was just another Death Eater.� For the first time during their entire conversation, her eyes met his. Theodore looked away quickly, but not before Susan caught a glimpse of the sorrow in his eyes. Despite everything, she knew were the same in one respect: they were both broken, mere fragments of the war that were still trying to mend. She was surprisingly comforted by this fact.

“What are you doing for Christmas?� The words flew out of her mouth before she even considered what she was saying. Susan hardly knew the man in front of her, and she doubted he wanted to spend Christmas with a random classmate he had only just run into.

A ghost of a grin flitted across his face, softening his hardened features. “I wasn’t planning on celebrating,� he answered.

“Oh,� Susan said, feeling a bit stupid. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, her face prickling.

“What are you planning on doing this Christmas?� he asked, breaking the silence.

Susan rolled her eyes, giving him a sad smile. “I hadn’t really planned on celebrating it at all, actually. I’d kind of ignored the entire holiday until tonight. I haven’t even got a tree.�

Theodore raised his eyebrows. “You don’t have a tree? What kind of Christian are you?� He leaned towards her, and for a brief moment of panic, Susan thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, he tilted his head so his mouth was a hair’s width away from her ear. “We’ll have to fix that, won’t we?�

* * *

A half-hour later, Susan was nearly keeled over with laughter.

“They are called ornaments, Theodore!� she corrected, once she had regained her composure.

“Right. Ornaments,� Theodore amended, grinning sheepishly. “So I probably shouldn’t have asked the poor old lady if these flimsy branches could hold extra large balls?�

Susan bit back a smile. “No, you shouldn’t have.� She appraised the tree in front of them. Despite the rather thin branches, she had to admit it was one of the better trees they had encountered. Still, a part of her hoped they would never find the perfect tree; she wasn’t sure she ever wanted the search to end.

“It doesn’t have enough needles,� she decided, leading Theodore to the next row of trees. He sighed in mock-exasperation.

“Does it have to be completely flawless?� he asked, though Susan heard a hint of a smile in his voice. “What about this one?� He pointed to a larger tree with plenty of pine leaves.

“It’s too large,� she replied without a moment’s hesitation. Seeing the look of skepticism on his face, she quickly added, “It really is! It won’t fit through the front door.�

“I see,� he said, chuckling. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into another aisle. Susan let her shoulder rest against his for a fraction of a second before turning away. Her head was buzzing uncontrollably, and she searched for something to say

“I like this tree,� she heard herself declare, pointing to the first one she saw in front of her. Theodore snorted.

“You can’t be serious.�

Her eyes focused on the tree she was pointing at. It was about medium height, with minimal bare spots. It was also crooked, skewing far to the right and then bending back in a twisted fashion. Susan found something endearing about its blatant imperfection, and nodded absently when Theodore asked if she was really sure.

“Strange one, you are,� he said, not unkindly, as they left the shop with the tree Levitating a few feet behind them. The streets were now sparse; it was nearly midnight.

“I’ll Apparate this back to your flat for you,� Theodore suggested, nodding his head towards the tree. Susan smiled in response, slipping her hand into his and twisting on the spot.

They landed in the middle of her kitchen, pressed up awkwardly against the fridge. Theodore gently extracted himself from her grip and flicked his wand. The tree landed neatly in the plastic stand they had purchased and noisily scooted itself to the corner of the room beside the fireplace.

“It looks nice,� Susan said quietly, attempting to break the awkward silence.

Theodore sighed, leaning against the counter. “Yeah, it does. Although I wish you let me buy you those… ornaments.� Susan gave him a small smile as she turned his way.

“I never really enjoyed decorating the tree. I always thought it looked better without all the ornaments.�

“I’ve never given much thought to it,� Theodore said, shrugging. “But I think you’re right. By the way, what are you doing?� he added, unsuccessfully hiding a smile as he watched Susan hurrying to the stove.

“I’m making some hot cocoa,� she replied matter-of-factly. “You can’t have a Christmas Eve without hot cocoa. It’s almost as important as the tree.�

Moments later, they sat in front of the blazing fire with two small mugs of cocoa. Susan mentally cursed herself for not deciding to buy a couch the day she went furniture shopping; she never thought of how uncomfortable it was sitting on the floor.

“Merry Christmas,� she said suddenly, checking her watch. “It’s twelve thirty-one.�

“Really?� he asked, lifting her wrist to his eye level. “Wow.�

“Time flies,� Susan agreed loudly, trying to keep her voice steady.

“Merry Christmas, Susan,� he murmured. He moved closer, and suddenly his lips met hers. Her heart pounded as she wrapped her arms around Theodore’s neck, pulling him closer. It’s Christmas, she thought, smiling against his lips. For the first time in seven months — and it had taken the most unlikely of saviors to do it — she felt whole again.