Nem (Host)

To the Potters, Andromeda raised her own glass.

Protectors of outcasts and defenders of black sheep everywhere.

Everyone laughed and clinked glasses.

I think I must be the most outcast, Sirius said happily.

I'm a Gryffindor, after all.

To Gryffindor, Mr. Potter called out, from the other end of the table.

Only the Gryffindors toasted.

Andromeda narrowed her eyes at Sirius.

Think so, little cousin?

Try marrying a non-relative.

I'll have to, Sirius responded, as Gully cleared away the plates and Mrs. Potter fetched in the Christmas pudding.

After Sissy's wedding, there aren't any black women left.

There's Dora.

Excuse me, Ted said, protectively covering his daughter's ears.

Could we please get her through her first Christmas before arranging a betrothal?

I'm teasing, Andromeda leaned over to kiss them both.

Dora can marry anyone she likes when she's old enough, and I can say with absolute certainty that it won't be anyone at this table.

Everyone laughed again.

Remus eyed Darius furtively.

He was looking just as merry as Mr. Potter, his face glowing red from the fire whiskey he'd been knocking back.