Do you hear what I hear?
A shriek, a shriek, high above the trees
With a voice as big as the sea
With a voice as big as the sea![1]


In the cool, gray light of Christmas morning, a sharp pop broke the silence that had settled over the sprawling estate, causing ravens to flee to safer perches. The Reid sisters appeared in dark cloaks with hoods pulled high, walking around the fountain and through the courtyard as they'd done many times before. The taller one lifted the hem of her dress as she climbed the stone steps to the front entrance. The shorter sister silently cursed her own bare ankles as she followed.

Drawing their hoods back, the sisters glanced at each other. Aileen pulled the serpentine knocker on the massive door, letting it fall when the snake heads shifted to stare at her with hollow eyes.

Abby shivered, looking up at the brick walls that stretched far above their heads, where the only relief to the oppressive formality could be found in the puff of smoke escaping one of the chimneys. This must be the room where their mother waited.

"Remember," Aileen said quietly, her voice nearly swept away by the wind. "Our Opera dates do not exist."

Abby's eyes brightened. "You said d-"

"If she asks about tomorrow, our plans involve some neighborhood function we couldn't possibly avoid lest we risk appearing too strange to the muggles. A bake sale, perhaps," distaste colored Aileen's tone. "She won't want to attend."

"Got it," Abby nodded.

"And if you value what is left of my sanity, not a word about Christmas Eve!" Aileen sent her an imperious look.

Abby gave her a reassuring smile just as the door opened to reveal an ancient house elf. His nose reached so far in the air they could both see up his nostrils. He beckoned them in with a sniff and a curve of his long finger, collecting their cloaks and gifts. Though the gifts he carried towered over him, the house elf strode through the foyer with apparent ease, never once looking back to see if the sisters trailed behind.

"Welcome home," Abby supplied as their steps echoed through the corridors. The elf opened the door of the sitting room and gestured them in with a shuffle of the gifts.

The fire crackled, and light flickered over the frowning family portraits lined high on the wall. Their mother stood in front of the fireplace, alone. Which meant that their father must be stalling, and Trevor's wife and daughters had not yet arrived.

Aileen glanced at her mother's straight shoulders. She wondered, for a moment, if the woman had gazed into the flames seeking answers to all the disappointment she had suffered - only to find dust and ashes. She cleared her throat softly, then moved forward as the Reid matron turned.

She smiled - the smile as fleeting as her earlier thought - and planted a quick, dutiful kiss on Cullodena's cheek.

"Merry Christmas, mother."

Abby went next, standing on her tiptoes, and pulled away with a subdued grin.

1.	Modified Christmas lyrics

So they had come, after all. Perhaps sense had not completely left her two wayward daughters-a thought which gave Cullodena little comfort. The reports of their recent conduct had been simply dreadful.

"Merry Christmas." Her tone might have been warm if one were to compare it to, say, the depths of space. Given the current context, it merely emphasized the resemblance between her and her eldest daughter. "It is good you came." There was a particular unpleasant emphasis on the word 'good'. It was a dreadful thought that one's children might not actually visit over Christmas. 

Cullodena made a sharp motion with her hand at the nearby chairs. "Do sit. And please, tell me about your holidays. I rather wish to know just what could be so compelling that you could not spend Christmas Eve with your beleaguered parents." Her voice grew a bit shriller, and she took her own seat, near the fire.

"Your sister-in-law was kind enough to visit, but your father was still quite hurt by your absence." She stared down her nose, first at Aileen, then at Abigail. As much as Cullodena might like to think that they had spent that time with proper, well-bred young gentleman, it had long been evident that this was something they were utterly lacking the capacity for. If only they would admit to it, and cease their defensiveness against her efforts.

Aileen caught every little shift in tone and focus on certain words, which she knew was leading up to something. Ah yes, beleaguered parents, especially their (missing in action) father. She and Abby shared the briefest of glances as their mother barreled into the very topic she'd been dreading most.

Christmas Eve.

She sat on the edge of the stiff victorian couch, crossing her legs and resting her hands on her lap. Abby sat beside her.

"I apologize if our absence hurt you and father, but I was invited to a party with several of my colleagues and found it wise to further connections there," Aileen began with the practiced ease of hiding the whole truth. 

"Abby was invited. I was happy to take her along." She inclined her head to her younger sister, who watched their mother all too innocently and quietly.

"How was Christmas eve with Asami?" She continued politely. "Are she and the girls coming today?"

As if Aileen would have much chance of useful connections at a party with those wretches she called her colleagues. "It was a pleasant visit. They will be over a bit later.  Asami is doing as well as can be expected." If Cullodena's voice could have carved glass, there would have been a dozen recriminations regarding Aileen's level of familial support left on the windows after that sentence. As matters stood, it was merely left so sharply implied.

But it was the mention of Abigail attending a function that led Cullodena to fix her suspicious glare on her youngest daughter. It seemed rather odd. "Do tell me about this party, Abigail. It was most gracious of them to invite you. Did they have those appetizers you so enjoy. The-oh, what were they called?" She waved her hand about in the air as if attempting to summon the name. And, perhaps, to toy with the careful emphasis of her words.

'You really should write it down, so I can have them made for the next time you visit." There was that assumption in her voice, that they would be returning for said visit-and doing so soon. They were her daughters after all, what else could they have to do?

Aileen nodded coolly while Abby began to look slightly uncomfortable. The whole situation with her brother's family was awkward. If he hadn't been so selfish, and managed his money better, and oh, she didn't know, not gotten involved in the runespoor smuggling business, then his wife and daughters wouldn't be miserable now.

She raised her eyebrows and automatically straightened as her mother glared at her. Ah, of course she wanted Abby to visit more often.

Plastering on a grin, she proceeded to think fast. "Eclairs? Anything chocolate?" She giggled. "No, they didn't have that, but they served goose and other yummy stuff. Of course, the food at the party was nothing compared to the food here," she waved her hand. As if that would butter her up. But she could try.

She glanced at Aileen. "Other professors brought family, too. We could have asked you to join, now that I think about it. But it would have been totally dull for you. You know how professors drone on."

Her look turned teasing, and Aileen pursed her lips to hide a smirk.

They were teasing her, now. Oh the trials of having such errant daughters. Cullodena pressed her lips together and looked down her nose at Abigail, the corners of her mouth just dipping into a frown. "Your sister introduces you to the most inappropriate people at times. I have not desire for her to extend this talent to those whom she would introduce to my company."

Her and Abigail would most certainly have words regarding the perils of imitating Aileen's most unfortunate history. Perhaps Douglas would be willing to aid her in these matters, this once. "But I will note your preference for eclairs. That can be managed."

If the strain of all their disastrous behavior did not place her in an early grave! "But enough of parties. I would rather hope your life does not consist merely of them, even in this season." She loosened her gaze from Abigail and leaned back. The relevant points could be reemphasized later if required-as she rather feared it would be.

Ah, the look of disapproval. It did not seem to faze the sisters – not yet, and they settled into the couch with some relief as Cullodena moved on to other matters of the holiday season.

“Actually, it has,” Abby said after a short pause. “Birthday parties. Shopping for gifts. Dress shopping. Shopping! And more parties.”

She didn’t dare tell her she missed interning at the Ministry. That was not a topic she wanted to argue over today, as she was pretty sure her mother would take Aileen’s side.

“You will – or maybe you won’t – be interested to know a professor randomly moved in across the street,” Abby giggled.

“Hogwarts counselor,” Aileen corrected.

“Yeah, Maiko’s really nice. She has a big fluffy dog, and a brother around my age. Two good things! I’m going to introduce the brother, Kohaku, to my friend Gigi. They’d make a good match.”

Aileen raised her eyebrows at their mother. “Matchmaking. It seems she takes after you in that regard.” A touch of humor softened the older sister’s dry tone.

Abby shrugged with apparent innocence. “Maybe so!”

"Dress shopping?" Oh, but Abigail could not be trusted to do that on her own, and Aileen was not the best influence! Though they had appeared properly dressed for Christmas, sparing her that trial. "You should have told me, so that I could have accompanied you. It is a mother's duty to ensure her daughter is suitably clothed." Her glare towards Aileen was more out of custom than anything else.

She shifted a little in her seat. Oh, where was Douglas? He was supposed to be supporting her. She turned her head towards the door in the vain hope of seeing him. "I will have to take you shopping in the future, then. I assume you can spare the time." She raised an eyebrow. Whatever might be happening in that house, Abigail devoting efforts to becoming a proper wife seemed unlikely.

Though a bit of shopping might allow her to direct Abigail properly. The match with Mr. Brunn was trial enough without any further complications.

But this news about their neighbor! Thank Merlin, there was still good in her daughters' lives. "Maiko...Yukawa, is it not? The Yukawas are quite respectable. I am glad to hear they are nearby." She punctuated the end of the sentence with a slow, graceful nod.

The comments on matchmaking deserved nothing more than a sniff, and so that was all she gave them. This was not a night Cullodena wished to allow herself to be driven to fits. Even if her children did try with such fervor!

"Of course I can! I'm always up for shopping," Abby agreed, while Aileen bit back a sigh at their mother's silent accusation that she'd pick out anything unsuitable for her sister. She thoroughly enjoyed fashion. If Abby brought home any garishly muggle clothes, it was on her allowance, and hidden at the back of her wardrobe.

The sisters glanced at each other, then quickly looked away with pursed lips. Oh Merlin. She could not laugh. Maiko and Kohaku, respectable? Well, that dispelled Aileen's theories about Maiko being completely muggleborn, and if it made her mother happy (or less displeased), Aileen was not going to clue her in about their neighbor's talk of cars and science and psychology!

Abby looked very much in danger of bursting into giggles, so Aileen quickly stepped in. "Yes, they are quite pleasant people. We shall be having dinner with them sometime this week," she nodded.

Abby looked thrilled.

Well, at least Abigail would have some sort of acceptable clothing. And neighbors. "Very well. We can go out after the New Year, then. Diagon should have some-" she sniffed "-acceptable shops." Though not as many as there used to be. And oh, the shameful sorts one saw there!

The house elf carefully poked his nose into the room, and upon seeing that Cullodena was not sprawled back in her seat with a hand to her forehead, vanished again.

"Dinner plans? Wonderful. It is good for Abigail to have companions of the proper age." Perhaps her prospects were not quite as limited as one might think. "It keeps her from less reputable company. Which she has seen far too much of already." She looked first at Aileen, then back to Abigail, her expression shifting to something harsher. "You really could find no one suitable to attend the Yule Ball with? Mr. Brunn was there, was he not?" It was rather shameful that he had not taken the opportunity, given their arrangements.

"But Sasha asked,” Abby protested, her amusement over the dinner plans with Kohaku and Maiko fading. “No one else thought to, and I was happy to go.”

She was probably the first squib ever to attend a school dance. One glance at her mother’s unyielding expression told Abby that explaining was futile, but she tried anyway.

Aileen backed her up, “If Mr. Brunn had wanted to accompany her, he should have made arrangements earlier. Mr. Schlagenweit took the time to ensure that Abby would be able to attend before he even broached the topic with her. It would hardly be proper to tell the boy yes, she’s allowed to go, but certainly not with you.”

Their mother had a different definition of proper in this circumstance, Abby well knew. She might be able to forgive the Yule Ball, but she was definitely going to flip about the opera!

"You encouraged her?" Cullodena's voice rose to the highest screech it had yet that night. "A grown woman, encouraging your sister to attend with that thing?" This was dreadful, despicable!  "Have you damaged your head recently, Aileen?" That unfortunate event would be the most positive of ways matters could go!

She clasped her hands together hard enough that her fingers begin to turn red.  "Have you not seen what they say about him? I will not see you harmed, or worse, Abigail! How could this ever have been considered?"

Tyr Brunn's thoughtlessness in the matter was nothing compared to all of this. "I heard that Schlagenweit has been punished recently. It is a wonder they have not expelled him." And the screech rose every higher. "This is a travesty!"

Then she collapsed back in her chair, her head turned to stare up at the ceiling, and dramatically gasped for breath.

Aileen put a hand to her head and sighed as the screeching began and the portraits muttered from high on the wall. What could she say? If she'd known, she never would have encouraged Abby to attend the ball with him. She was allowing the opera because she would be there to supervise, but it still worried her.

Knowing that her mother was right to be concerned made her quite defensive.

“I assure you, Sasha has excellent character,” she said with as much firmness as she could muster. “I see him in class every week, and when he has come to me for career advice. He has had a difficult life, that is all.”

She wished that were all!

Though her mother’s shrilling was unpleasant as always, Abby couldn’t help the confusion that arose at her words. She knew Aileen and Tapendra were handling Malvivicus and so would Professor Storm, which made her feel much better than she had earlier in the month, but it was still a scary situation.

Sometimes it was easy to forget her mother cared, too. Her parents came from another era in mindset and values. She’d been born later in their lives, and once she’d turned eleven everything had changed for the worse. The intent focus on her now felt strange. To hear her say she didn’t want her to get hurt shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but it did.

Abby stared at her a moment, conflicted, but then Aileen spoke up defensively.

"And he’s not a thing," A slight scowl formed on Abby’s face as she resisted the urge to cross her arms. "He’s brilliant. You should meet him so you can see for yourself.”

Aileen turned her head to look at her with a glance that questioned if she’d lost her marbles.

The House Elf was soon back, summoned by the melody of very high voices. He turned his nose up even further at Aileen and Abigail. The Mistress didn't need anyone upsetting her!

But he had more important matters to attend to, and swiftly moved to wave a small vial beneath Cullodena's nose. It took a few more seconds for the screeching to die down, and the portraits adopted disapproving and rather disappointed expressions.

"Oh, my nerves! Speak of him no more!" If the boy had possessed any character, he would not be in such situations and stories! But this seemed too far gone for her to manage. Douglas would have to intervene. No matter what protests he uttered against it. "Oh, where is Douglas?"

He couldn't stay away forever. It was Christmas, and she'd found such gifts for him, beside.