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"Go ahead, sit down." Amelia ushers her colleague and his wife into the living room, thrilled that she's so suddenly made friends with her, and now got the chance to share more time with her as soon as tonight. "I'm so glad you both agreed to come for a nightcap, even though we had to walk."
Molly pauses in the doorway, loosening the knitted scarf from around her neck. Her cheeks are ruddy from the frigid wind, her unruly hair is flames around her beaming face, and... She's a rose in full bloom, irresistible.
And after the harsh mid-winter air's cleared Amelia's mind for a moment, now she's back, bound by this merry redhead's enchantment.
While she never expected much from the Ministry Yule Ball, it turned into a disappointment at first, because Celestina, the only witch among her singer crushes had cancelled her performance. Only the sight of the lively, happy dancer in her husband's arms helped Amelia leave her old grief and bitter thoughts about her lonely life behind, and escape to drunken daydreaming. Molly must have noticed her staring – and, surprisingly, responded by approaching her with an offer of friendship. Pecking each other's cheeks playfully under the hovering mistletoe made it harder for Amelia to content herself with the promise of meeting her new friend perhaps regularly after two years, when her troublesome twins would be at school.
When she ventured to ask the couple to her place, Arthur seemed immediately only excited to hear that there was no Floo connection – that she lived in a Muggle flat. And Amelia's tipsy enough to allow herself to believe that Molly's got more than one reason to decide not to hurry home to her children even though the eldest is only sixteen and has six siblings to take care of.
Wishing she had more boldness – perhaps also a stronger urge to touch and not just feast her eyes on someone she's so acutely fond of – Amelia reaches out to take the scarf only when it's too late to feel how soft the skin under Molly's chin is.
“Of course! We couldn't resist..." Molly says slowly, allowing her fingers to linger on the scarf, and giving Amelia a chance to brush them with hers as if unintentionally. "You've promised some better music than the banshees' screeching. They weren't that great without Celestina.”
Arthur's already standing in front of Amelia's bookshelf, and his eyes are flicking from the TV set to the hi-fi equipment and back. “Molly was so looking forward to seeing the famous singing sorceress. Too bad Warbeck cancelled. So, Amelia, if you have some music she'll like... And not from our Wireless but some Muggle devices... These?"
"Your hands are cold." Amelia catches herself squeezing Molly's fingers, and not wanting to let go.
Giddy, she realises that this is honestly the highest pleasure in physical closeness she manages to hope for. Is she still being the sensible Amelia she was considered as a schoolgirl – and now telling herself not to desire more because Molly's married?
She even remembers to please the husband. Pulling Molly by the hand, she walks over and places a finger on the controls of the cassette deck.
"Look," she says, removing the cassette. "Now, Arthur, you can insert this cassette. Yes, like that. Now press here!"
As the first notes of Wham!'s Last Christmas ring out from the loudspeakers, he breathes out, "Marvellous!"
"It's all Christmas music, a compilation I made myself by... I'll show you later how. Now I'll get some Firecider to help us warm up."
Molly has freed her hand, and Amelia stops herself from dragging her along to the kitchen. She's tempted to simply Summon a bottle and glasses, but that would look disrespectful.
Heating the cider properly in a cauldron, she catches herself singing along, "This year, to save me from tears/ I'll give it to someone special."
She hopes her guests will feel some festive atmosphere in the songs, although they haven't heard them before. On this cassette there are no traditional songs shared by the Muggles and the wizarding world, or anything released more than a few years ago. She's wanted to have a compilation of joyful music for the season, something with no sad associations, and this must be the safest option for this occasion, too.
However, she's considering which one of her favourite female voices she'll introduce to Molly after a few of these songs.
But when she returns, levitating a tray, she hears Freddie Mercury's voice, and finds it wonderfully fitting that she can join him in, "Oh, my friends! It's been a long hard year," even though that suddenly makes her think of the number of years when she's kept visiting the remaining pair of her old friends at St Mungo's.
Amelia hurries to hand a steaming goblet to Molly, who's settled comfortably on the couch, and to catch Arthur's attention, which has already turned towards the TV set, so as to make him, too, receive a drink.
"Yes, it's Christmas," Freddie repeats.
"To Christmas!" Amelia mouths, sitting down on the couch and touching Molly's goblet with hers, "And friends!"
The music is so loud that she doesn't need to talk, and she sips the hot drink as fast as she can, looking at Molly and hoping to reach full focus on the beautiful moment. Molly leans slightly on Amelia, but there's wistfulness in her smile.
Amelia can't help remembering that Molly, too, has had her share of tears – particularly because at the ball Molly mentioned the brothers she lost in the war, saying something about them easily, by the way, while talking about her own twins, and without hesitation referred to these mates of Amelia's again when telling her she'd heard nice things about her as early as the 70s. Molly has no need to separate the memory of her losses from the current joys. Perhaps because she has gained just that: new joys to help her live on.
"Can you show me how this thing works?" Arthur's eager request jerks Amelia out of her emotional ruminations. "And this one... is connected to that one?"
Reluctant to get up, Amelia reaches for the remote controls on the coffee table. She switches the TV on and presses play on the VHS, and turns the sound low on the hi-fi.
"Muggle wands!" Arthur exclaims, rushing closer to her. "May I? Don't worry, I know not to press any buttons without your instructions."
Molly's just startled Amelia by placing her head on Amelia's shoulder. "May I?" she repeats her husband's words in a whisper, lifting her head a bit and lowering it again. "So lovely to relax. And this... still not one of the ladies you promised, but beautiful."
It is. Amelia's latest favourite music video. Wonderful Life... Whether she manages to believe that the lyrics truly declare life wonderful, or chooses the sarcastic interpretation, she loves the both melancholy and uplifting melody, as well as all the breathtaking images and the realness of the people filmed.
And perhaps it's not so bad to watch this in company, after all. Black – too bad the singer happens to have adopted that infamous name – here makes her think of that friend whose losses were worse than anyone's and who's gone away and whom she must uselessly worry about.
Look at me standing/ Here on my own again...
And Amelia imagines she can see Remus standing... Up straight in the sunshine... She can believe that Remus has gone south to a far-away sea, where now his head's filled with sunlight and new dreams, and he's staring into another man's, perhaps a future partner's eyes, admitting...
Perhaps she needs to admit...
I need a friend/ Oh I need a friend/ To make me happy/ Not stand here on my own.
And Molly can be what she needs, a friend with whom to share sorrows and joys – and more when they reach an understanding of what it is they want.