When the issue between Sirius and his daughter was resolved, not even a hint of tension remained in the room, and we all cheerfully sat down at the festive table. We ate and drank, chatting about all sorts of things, although the liveliest discussion was sparked by a story Nymphadora told about our participation in Quidditch, which she had witnessed since she was currently in her final year at school. This, in turn, prompted the older adults to start reminiscing about their own school years and about the Mischief Marauders' escapades.
"By the way, I heard that Snivelly now teaches Potions?" Sirius said suddenly, against the backdrop of memories.
"Ahem, even though Professor Snape is an extremely unpleasant individual, you really shouldn't call him that, Sirius. And, by the way, it's precisely because of you that Coraline will probably have some trouble with Potions."
"What do you mean?!" the mentioned girl immediately raised her head.
"Professor Snape is naturally a man of the most appalling character and, in essence, a socially maladjusted sadist, but when it comes to the main enemies of his childhood—the Marauders—it reaches an extreme. Take Potter, whom he torments constantly, missing no opportunity, but out of all the Marauders, Sirius was the one he hated most of all, so…"
"Maybe it's not so bad, and people just misunderstood him?" the girl asked quietly, as if trying to convince herself.
"Perhaps, somewhere deep inside, there is truly something wonderful in him, but only the now-late Lily Potter ever knew it," Andromeda decided to add.
"Oh, I remember! She was quite a character—a sweet little Gryffindor first-year, always hanging out with that scary Slytherin. Quite a sight, especially back then," Ted joined in.
"Pft, Beauty and the Beast, nothing less," snorted Sirius. "With that ugly mug of his, he never had a chance, and he still got mixed up with those degenerates."
"Watch your tongue, cousin," Andromeda looked at him sternly, a red dot warningly glowing at the tip of her finger.
"Aunt, you can do wandless magic too?" asked Coraline, intrigued by the scene.
"There's nothing complicated about it. You just need to put a bit more effort into your spells," Andromeda waved it away.
"So I could learn this just as quickly as my brother and sister?"
"Of course not!" Nymphadora suddenly flared up. "Out of our entire year, I've never seen anyone else use magic without a wand."
"Tell me, my daughter, how much time a day do you spend practicing the same spell over and over?"
"Um, well…" When the question was put that way, Nymphadora scratched her cheek a bit awkwardly, and her hair, in tune with her emotions, changed color again.
"That's exactly it," Andromeda nodded, and then, turning to Coraline, she said, "To cast spells without a wand, you need to repeat a spell so many times that it's imprinted in you."
"That's true," we confirmed, and to illustrate, Regulus summoned a tiny water dragon above his palm.
"Ooh, that is really impressive," Ted admired. "Dora, you really should show a little more persistence."
"What's the point in wasting time on wandless magic if it's going to be weaker anyway?" the girl grumbled.
"There actually are plenty of reasons—but let's not get into that now, it is a holiday, not a magic lesson. For example, I had a funny case at work recently…" Seeing the conversation heading in an unpleasant direction for his daughter, Ted decided to steer the talk toward funny stories from his job, and since he's a healer at St. Mungo's, he's seen quite a few absurd cases.
And so, time gradually passed until we finally got to the presents that had been waiting for us since morning. Honestly, presents are always something that can cause a bit of excitement, even in those who try not to show it, as well as a purely instinctive anticipation of something incredible, even if you know it couldn't possibly be. Among all the sweets and the like, the most surprising presents turned out to be Hermione's and Dumbledore's. From Hermione, we received a small book which contained the genealogical tree of the French branch of the Blacks, along with portraits, dates of birth and death, and, where applicable, achievements. Frankly, she hit the mark with that gift.
No matter how much we tried to ignore it, like any other orphans, we were curious about our parents, and here we found information about twin girls who looked astonishingly like us. What's more, despite their obvious youth, one of them had a date of death: August 1st, 1980.
Literally the day after our birth—could this be considered direct evidence that Rosalie Black is our birth mother? Probably not, but the chances are certainly high.
However, there is someone who could resolve our doubts. We glanced at the neighboring portrait, right next to the portrait of our supposed mother—her twin sister, Lilia Black.
Giving a simultaneous sigh at the swell of emotion, we put the book away and focused on Dumbledore's gift. The old man had given us something fit to become a family heirloom for Christmas: a book of spells—not just spells, but ice spells in particular. And the title sounded like just owning a copy might get you thrown in Azkaban. "How to Freeze the Devil."
Needless to say, we were absolutely thrilled with the gift. That book was literally what we'd always hoped for in the field of magic. It had everything: from the most basic cold-based spells we already knew, to things we'd only considered an absurd fantasy. Infernal cold straight from Cocytus, able to freeze the devil himself—hence the title.
"Sis, what's that book?" asked Coraline, full of curiosity upon seeing our female half clutching the book with a silly grin on her usually serious face, while Regulus helped figure out the rooms in the house so everyone could stay overnight.
"This, dear sister, is what will help my brother and me become the coolest ice mages ever!" we replied with a dazzling smile.
"Ice mages? That's it?" the girl suddenly lost interest, then added dismissively, "If you wanted to be cool, you should've studied lightning or fire. Or better yet—space and time."
"Pfft, what do you know," we snorted—after all, everyone has their own passions.