Christmas Eve. Aileen could barely believe she was here, at the Trishna house. She and Abby had finished the gift for Tapendra just in time, and her sister would not hear a word about how it 'might be too late' to let him know they were indeed going to be there for dinner. Aileen just hoped the owl this morning hadn't sent him into a panic. He had extended the invitation at the Yule Ball, but with the especially hectic holiday, she wouldn't be surprised if it might have slipped his mind.

When she and her sister had arrived, they'd found the home full to bursting with people and a happy sort of chaos. A completely different atmosphere to what Aileen knew she'd find visiting their parents tomorrow. Yet she did not envy Tapendra. He had to contend with Harper, Winnie, and the other children, the cooking and the cleaning. She only had to watch with hidden amusement as he scurried about. Evil Slytherin alum that she was.

Now, later in the evening, things seemed to have calmed a bit. The teenagers had escaped upstairs after the gift-giving, and the sounds of the Ex-Box somehow blended in with the quieter household noise. Even Aileen did not find the sharp staccato blasts and laughter above too offensive; if that was how muggles pretended to cast hexes, so be it.

Aileen found Tapendra in the narrow lounge, the top of his head almost bumping the star off the tree as he straightened the ornaments. The twinkling lights draped on the branches reflected off the bay window. Snow was falling gently outside.

He looked harried, but moved with that quick energy she'd seen in the tower that night during the lesson with the first-years. Like the tower, this place was his home. She felt glad to see him here, even when he was stressed and wearing those crinkled, faded jeans. The black and white geometric pattern on his sweater nearly matched the dress she wore, and as she moved forward to help fix the decorations, the two of them reminded her of the aftermath of a chess game - pieces, and pieces of pieces scattered across the board.

Well, with any luck, they'd done enough battle a few days earlier.

Aileen's hand lingered on one of the ornaments - an old, moving photograph framed by cardboard covered with copious amounts of glitter. Must be either his daughter's or his sister's work when they'd been younger.

"I'm so glad you invited us over, Tapendra," she began lightly, with a glance at the door.

"Otherwise, I would have missed seeing Storm in that apron."

Aileen smirked - for once, not at Tapendra's expense. She and Abby had arrived just in time to see the Defense professor holding the goose and wearing... that!

The day had been exhausting, but it was a good kind of exhaustion. The laughter and yelling and general chaos was the kind of Tapendra liked - he always was glad when he could sit on the couch by himself and try not to think of the stack of dishes that awaited him in the kitchen. But at the same time he missed it, when it wound down.

Not that his night was over - not by a long shot! They had hours of D&D ahead of them, not that he really wanted to explain the game to Aileen and Ignan. An hour or two of winding down, then, before that venture began.

Of course, even with the kids upstairs, the house had a bit of a mess to it again. He'd desperately cleaned it up before the Reids and Jacoba arrived, but the tree had taken a few hits and someone had knocked presents over digging for one. Most the children had retreated upstairs. Sasha and Ignan had headed outside - he could see them, from the corner of the window that looked out into the garden.

He was humming idly when he jumped, surprised when Aileen started helping him. He hadn't really noticed her come in.

"Oh - well - no problem," he said, blinking and a bit flattered. He was honestly a bit surprised she'd liked it; Aileen Reid and muggle had seemed a bad combination. He adjusted a few of the glass balls hung on the tree, being picky and being sure two of the same color weren't too close. He considered a moment, then - well, she didn't seem to be holding any anger from the discussion a few days before. That meant it was okay to relax, he supposed.

He smiled. "Glad to have you," he said, truthfully. "Even if it's a bit of a squeeze." He shook his head; getting everyone into their dining room had left very little room to actually move. Thankfully he had long arms and people hadn't been too terrible about passing things. Even if they'd run out of chairs at the dinner itself and he'd ended up at the head of the table using one of the folding lawnchairs. And they'd had to bring the office chairs down from upstairs.

Tapendra laughed, shaking his head. "I never imagined I'd see that either, to be honest. That's prime blackmail material if I ever saw it. The ovenmits really completed the look, didn't they." He held his hands up, hands in a 'mit' gesture - then looked out to the bay window. "Don't tell him I said that, he'll find some way to get me back."

The tree seemed in order...more or less. It kept listing to the side slightly, no matter how many adjustments he made to the base. "That apron's better if you know what the pattern is from, too," he said, smirk matching her own. "It's a muggle thing...but imagine him wearing a Merwyn the Malicious apron and you get the idea." He grinned. "Suits him a bit too well, doesn't it?" Tapendra shook his head, kneeling down to stack the presents back into place. "Just be glad you missed me in mine."

The tension from a few days ago seemed to have truly dissipated, and Tapendra acted as genuinely around her now as he had with the rest of the household watching. When he laughed, her smirk widened into a smile. The comparison to Merwyn did indeed fit what she knew of the Defense Professor. Glancing out the window at Storm and Sasha, she had the fleeting thought of lowering their voices. Though some at Hogwarts might suspect Storm of having eyes in the back of his head, Aileen suspected detachable ears.

Her eyebrows shot up, almost sorry she'd missed Tapendra in an apron. But at least she could gleefully misinterpret his comment.

"Why?" She glanced down at him slyly as he straightened the presents. "Is Uric the Oddball emblazoned on the front?"

Tapendra wasn't nearly that eccentric, of course. He was just an easy target!

Aileen stepped back to admire the nearly-straightened tree, imagining it wouldn't last long in this state.

“I might be donning an apron myself in the next day or two,” she mentioned in a tone that announced the apocalypse.

“You remember Aisling Knight from the ball?" Aileen glanced at him. "Her birthday is just after Christmas. Abby has gotten it in her head to bake her a cake, disregarding the fact that she's never done it before."

That made two of them.  "But coming from her, it should be well received," she smiled wryly.

It was Abby, after all.

At the moment, Aileen did not recall that she'd neglected to tell him her relation to the Knights, since she'd had many things on her mind the night of the Yule Ball.

Tapendra laughed, loudly, at the idea. "Gods, no, it's something even sillier, I'm afraid," he said, taking two steps towards and all but falling onto the couch, collapsing into the cushions. He spread his arms along the back of the couch, letting his head fall back. "I always got him as my chocolate frog card, you know," he said idly, head tilted back and his eyes closed. "Him or Dumbledore. I gave up trying to seriously collect those damn things after I had 10 of him..."

He trailed off, relaxing for a moment. When she spoke again, he sat back up, still smiling.

"Oh dear," he said, though his smile turned to a look of curiosity when she mentioned Aisling. He remembered her well enough - both for knowing something about lol cats and for being the Chief Warlock's wife. Beyond that he knew little of her in general, the hectic nature of the days post-Yule Ball had made him forget to look her up.

Though it had been obvious she and Aileen knew each other...and both had ignored his attempt to find out how. He looked at Aileen, wondering if it was safe to ask or not. He decided, going out on a limb, that it might be.

"If you'd like, give her some tips," he said, rubbing his chin. "I usually make the cakes for the girls. It's not too complex, but, well - it does take some skill if you don't want to get a lump with frosting on top." He had to admit the idea of them trying to make a cake was rather cute, though.

He raised an eyebrow. "I assumed you and Madame Knight knew each other, but - sorry if I got the wrong impression - it didn't seem to be a 'make a cake for her' kind of relation...?" He ended that as a question, unsure how to ask - and hoping he hadn't just upturned a metaphorical rock with a scorpion under it.

Glancing at him in amusement, Aileen perched on the couch as well, crossing her legs. She leaned back, but most certainly did not flop.

"I predict we'll be lucky with a lump of cake and frosting smeared haphazardly on top," she commented. "Any tips you have might just save the day. And the kitchen."

After enjoying dinner here, it did not surprise her that Tapendra baked cakes for the girls. Aileen was a fair cook, but she much preferred the wonders of catering to slaving over a hot stove, and could not even imagine how Tapendra cooked without magic.

At his carefully-phrased question, Aileen drew in a breath as if she were about to let out a sigh. "It's not," she said instead, choosing to answer honestly.

"Tarron is my cousin. But I'm afraid he was disowned many years ago when he married Aisling. She did not have the proper, shall we say, background to marry into the family."

She stated the facts with a resigned air. Her mother's last Howler had sparked her temper, and she was a bit tired of it all.

"Evidenced by her knowledge of the unusual cat t-shirts you wear."

This time she did sigh, propping her elbow up on the arm rest and putting her chin in her hand. "But she has been very kind to Abby. She actually offered to reach out to other Ministry departments regarding her career prospects. I intend on speaking to her about it when Abby and I visit them after Christmas."

She glanced at Tapendra, her words a bit stiff. It was a big step for the Reid sisters. One not without consequences (or at least, several more Howlers).

He nodded, all too glad to advise Abby; he had a feeling she was the sort to cook rather haphazardly, and somehow with children her age this approach was always at the expense of the kitchen. And, he assumed, Aileen’s patience as well.
She sat, and he turned to watch her as she perched on the couch. Aileen looked a bit strange in the muggle-ness of his house, and seemed to feel that way too – her back still stiff. Her tone matched it, and he quickly suspected that the topic was indeed a can of worms. Tapendra braced himself for a storm, but instead she simple explained.

“You mean Muggleborn, then,” he said, the sentence a statement rather than a question. It certainly did explain quite a bit, didn’t it?

He looked at her in surprise at her mention of visiting them – something that, given the Reids, was a fairly brave move. “Try to have a good time, then,” he said, with a kind of dark humor. “Extended family always seems a bit of a curse, as we get older.” He didn’t have a single one, and that had made Christmas simpler – a time spent with friends rather than family.

Tapendra paused a moment, considering before his spoke. Aileen’s mother was not unfamiliar to him, her shrieking, squawking tones echoing through the Astronomy tower more often than he’d like. Somehow, it was hard not to imagine a visit to a disowned cousin wouldn’t get the same result.

“I wish you and Abby a wonderful evening, then. She seemed a pleasant sort, and if she’s willing to help Abby…” He trailed off, but the vague smile said it all – take her up on it. “But I wish you luck, too,” he said, with that same cheerfully dark tone, patting her on the shoulder. “When your mother finds out, you might need it.”

Aileen nodded at his statement, unused to explaining at all, let alone specifying what about Aisling had caused the family to cut Tarron off. Yet even as she was uncomfortable with it, she felt some relief at getting it out in the open. With Tapendra, there was no need to tiptoe around.

He patted her on the shoulder, offering an odd mix of condolences and encouragement. She tilted her head at him curiously.

"You sound as if you've spotted The Grim in your tea leaves."

It would not surprise her if he'd had personal experience with such unfortunate family debacles, but she rarely heard him speak of it.

"Are we still discussing my mother, or yours?"

Her tone was careful and polite, but underneath one might detect a hint of sympathy. Last she'd heard, the woman was in Azkaban, and for good reason!

Tapendra laughed at her question, though the comment did give him some pause. His own mother and Cullodena Reid were not terribly different, when it came to it; his own mother simply had a much more aggressive manner to her, more likely to send a hex than a howler. That largely was the reason for her current location.

"There's little chance of me seeing her for Christmas," he said, and while his tone was hardly depressed or anything but cheerful, there was an edge to it. He had sent her a letter, though he wasn't sure the guards would let her see it. Even if they did hand it over to her, would she care? It was so much easier to assume she wouldn't - it made her being behind bars easier to deal with.

Especially since - as much as her predicament did upset him - he never wished her freedom. He knew what it would mean, and what she'd expect from him, and...what the consequences might be if he refused to help her. The cold, hard fact was that life was easier with her gone.

"I think I'd rather be discussing your mother, frankly," he said, with some humor - faked, to some extent. "Not much to say about mine that the Prophet hasn't already."

When Tapendra laughed and reminded her where Azorma was, Aileen assumed his tone meant he did not want her sympathy. Not that she ever had much of that to give, or knew how to. She merely nodded, and let him redirect the conversation back to her. Which was not entirely welcome, either.

"That makes one of us," Aileen said with a dry smile, shifting to look at him more directly. "Let's not spoil the Christmas atmosphere with too much talk of mothers. Or what passes for The Prophet these days."

She did need to face her parents tomorrow. The minutes between now and Christmas morning could not stretch long enough.

Glancing at Tapendra, her eyebrows drew together. "Unless there is something I'm missing?"

He could certainly understand that sentient, so he accepted her diversion with just a nod and a slight shrug. Neither of them wanted to talk about their mothers for, frankly, entirely understandable reasons - and with the room lit up with the bright, blinking lights of the tree and the sound of giggling echoing down the stairs, it wasn't really a setting for being grim.

"If you're missing something, then I'm missing it too," he told her, his cheerfulness firmly back in place. He drew his feet (bare, naturally) up onto the couch with him, crossing into the lotus potion without much thought. The overstuffed cushions made the position particularly comfortable, and he relaxed a moment.

"Got any post Christmas plans, then?" He asked after a pause, tone as casual as ever. "As far as I know, it's just going to be more of the same for me." He gestured to the ceiling above, which echoed with the giggling and thud thud of the girls running about.

She raised her eyebrows at him putting his feet up on the couch, but refrained from teasing him since it was his own house, after all. Aileen smiled at his gesture, glancing up at the ceiling. How he ever caught up on sleep around here was beyond her.

"Abby has a birthday party to attend, I believe. As for myself, I'm meeting a former colleague for drinks. And I will likely catch up with Josephine at some point, either before or after the holidays. She may have needed a few months to get over Sellaphix blundering through the Gringott's artifact room," she smirked. "Not that I blame her."

She glanced at Tapendra, assuming he didn't need to hear about the familial obligations. "The charity gala will have to survive without me." Her smirk remained, though the humor in her eyes faded a bit. "Barring any other social disasters, I'll be attending the opera. Abby will, too. Though she has plans to ask Sasha to go with her."

Aileen looked out the bay window, imagining he was still out there. "I told her I'd allow it as long as they remain within my line of sight. And my wand range."

To outsiders, it might sound as if she thought Sasha improper (ha!). But Tapendra likely understood her meaning.

It sounded like her calendar was, generally speaking, full. Or at least fuller of things she was doing for herself than he'd expected - given her family as he'd seen implied over the last few weeks, he was sort of surprised her mother had not chosen to keep her under constant watch. Or at the very least attempted to get her to go to parties with the right sort of people.

"Josephine?" He asked, automatically, the name not familiar to him. One of her friends, he surmised, though the name wasn't one he could attach to any of the Slytherins who had trailed after Aileen in school.  At her mention of the Gala, he cringed sympathetically.

"Unfortunately I'm still stuck going. The other host, Miss St. James - she'd hang me if I didn't go." And get sold off! Ugh, the less he thought about that, the better.

He looked directly at her when she mentioned Sasha and Abby, and after a moment he nodded his agreement. That wasn't a terrible idea, especially in the circumstances as they were in now. "Would look less like a date then, perhaps," he said, sighing. His memory stirred, and he then turned to regard her curiously.

"What opera is this? Can't say I've heard Sasha mention it." There had been some letter a few weeks ago, but he'd mostly sort of ignored it - writing it off as either a mistake or as, well...opera. His experience of that involved a decided level of poshness that fully dissuaded him from attending that sort of thing on his own.

"St. Just," Aileen replied. "She assisted with the field trip in October."

Aileen quirked an eyebrow, holding back a look of distaste. That must be the friend he had spoken of earlier. She knew little about Dolly St. James beyond her reputation for seeking the limelight, and it surprised her that Tapendra knew her well enough that she'd 'hang him' for not attending the gala. Granted, she hadn't pictured Dolly and Liadan getting along either. Surprises all around!

"Perhaps," she nodded. There would be other patrons sharing the opera boxes, at least.

She smiled slightly, not expecting him to be aware of it or to have gotten an invitation.

"It's organized by the 'International Society of Wizarding Arts'," Aileen said with a posh flourish and a glint of humor in her eye. "January 2nd. Very mysterious invitation. Though if Ira Almasy is heading it, I have no doubt that every detail will be seen to, and that she will endeavor to keep the drama to the stage." Unlike a certain stunted terror running the Gala!

Which reminded her exactly whose birthday Abby was attending - Raine's. Aileen only knew her from the Egypt trip and from Abby's ramblings, but the girl seemed like she had a good head on her shoulders. Aileen had to admit she approved of the friendship.

Ira Almasy. Oh, he knew that name, and the expression on his face shifted quickly - to one of surprise and, for an instant, worry. He remembered her all too well. It was hard to forget that sort of woman - sharp and brittle as a blade, and about as deadly.

The hell was she doing in opera? Well,the arts...he could see that, he supposed, but still...he needed to find that letter. He wasn't dumb enough to assume it had something to do with him, but the name was not one he heard often. And Ira was the sort of women is paid to keep a slight eye on.

He nodded quickly, rubbing the side of his head, expression going back to quizzical.  "One can hope they keep the dramatics to a minimum, I suppose. I've never been to an opera, so I wouldn't know the difference." He smiled, humorously. Most of his impressions came from the television - the muggle opera, usually ones set in the Victorian era. Which, generally speaking, wasn't the worst reference for wizarding culture, but still..."Aren't they mostly melodrama? Long dramatic songs as someone dies very slowly, king's daughters cleverly disguised by tiny masquerade masks that they throw off to reveal themselves, that kind of thing?"

As he spoke, he leaned sideways, turning on the couch to face her more, leaning on his elbow on the couch's arm. "What opera is it?" He asked, curiously, moment of doubt quite passed. "Or is it a new one just for this show?"

Something flickered on Tapendra's face, and Aileen couldn't quite catch the emotion, so she pretended as if she hadn't seen it. His confusion about the concept of the opera amused her, and his curiosity surprised her, giving her expression a mischievous quality only half-masked by polite interest in the conversation. What did Tapendra usually do when she was confused about something muggle in his life? Oh, right. She remembered well.

"It's called A Winter's Tale. There was no description in the invitation, so I'm assuming it's new, or based off of the Shakespeare play."

Aileen subconsciously mirrored his posture, resting one shoulder against the back of the couch and facing him as she explained.

"The stereotype holds true - plenty of melodrama, songs that never end, characters lamenting their fate. Some shows are more tolerable than others. But at the very least, the costumes and charms are often well done and the actors make their best effort."

That was all true. She paused, as if thinking. "So do the audience members."

Looking at him, she allowed a smile to flicker across her face. "As I said, I highly doubt Ms. Almasy is the sort, but the more adventurous opera planners have been known to pluck one or two patrons from their seats and ask them to participate in some small way. Like calling out a line from offstage, or being shuffled into the back of the chorus during the finale. When people have seen the same show dozens of times, it helps to have something new to anticipate, and keeps some of the patrons from taking themselves too seriously."

She frowned. "Though there was that show a few years back. They transfigured an aristocrat's wife into a donkey, then lost her," she shook her head, seeming not at all concerned.

"She was found a few hours later in the wine cellar, drinking from the barrels. It caused quite a bit of panic at the time. But, such is the wizarding opera," she spread out her hands.[1]

She glanced away from Tapendra. Her mouth twitched. A second later, she looked at him, a soft laugh escaping from under her breath.

Alright, so Tapendra did not make things up to confuse her further (at least, she had yet to catch him at it). But he did laugh and poke fun at her occasionally, so she just couldn't resist returning the favor.

1.	This is all totally untrue. Aileen is just making up the bit about 'audience participation' to mess with Tapendra.