Empty Castle Explorations
Yule was coming, and coming fast. The holidays had everyone feeling happy, and the thick snow that covered the grounds the second weekend of December only added to that. Hagrid taught an eager Harry how to check on the health of the owls after they braved the storm to deliver mail. By the following night, Harry had set up in a corner of the Slytherin common room to help with the owls that made their way to any snakes so they didn’t have to traipse down to ask Hagrid for help. This gained Harry a lot of respect in the house, and his hair was even messier from all of the ruffling the upper years did as they passed by him.
One Saturday morning, the lake was frozen solid, and some of the Slytherin upper years taught the younger students of the house a charm that made their shoes slick enough to skate. The first year Slytherins spent that morning racing around the lake, then had a picnic lunch on a blanket covered with warming charms surrounded by bluebell charms in jars, charmed and conjured by Hermione, who had a knack for getting fire charms to cooperate.
It didn’t take long for the Weasley twins to show up and start stealing food from them, which led to Ron pelting them with snowballs, which led to them retaliating with a few of the first year Gryffs, which led to the whole year of Gryffindors and Slytherins getting into a full-on snowball war. Not even Harry's pleas were enough to get some of the snakes off of the blanket and into the fight, but all it took a well-aimed hit to mess up Draco’s perfectly coiffed hair (possibly by another Slytherin, but no one from either house was going to fess up) to get him to join, and the others followed suit, laughing and sprinting away from the Malfoy heir.
Fred and George pulled back to let the firsties have their fun, especially after Harry taught the pair of them a color-changing charm to put on the snowballs. Spying Professor Quirrell stalking back to the school from the Dark Forest, the twins quickly disappeared from the crowd. Soon, the first years paused in their war to watch yellow-colored snowballs seemingly appear from midair and hit the back of the yelping professor’s turban.
Unfortunately for them, Professor Snape was also lurking around, watching the chaos (definitely not to ensure no one was injured) and quickly found their hiding spot, and detentions were given, even as the first years booed from across the grass.
No one (except maybe Hermione and Theo) could wait for the holidays to start, for midterms to be over and class to be out. Harry relished in being able to have enough money to spend on his new friends, and even got Hermione to help him think of things to get acquaintances, such as Terry Higgs and Percy Weasley.
The Slytherin rooms in the dungeons were filled with roaring fires, and a warmth that they relished in, but the open corridors were drafty and ice cold, and the windows of the upper classrooms rattled with the winter wind. Potions class was the worst, as the classroom temperature couldn’t be controlled by magic due to the delicate nature of brewing. That left them huddled as close as possible to their cauldrons as their breath clouded into a mist above them.
Hermione's fire jars were in high demand, much to the first-gen witch's pleasure.
Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis had apparently decided to see past blood supremacy and began sitting with Hermione while Harry was at Quidditch practice, Ron either with his brothers or finding someone to play chess in the common room.
Hermione was warily accepting of the new friendships, but drew the line at them attempting to use bottles of hair potions on her natural curls.
Harry refused their pleas as well, laughing as they pouted.
One Potions class, as Harry walked past the other tables to get his ingredients, he noticed Malfoy scribbling on a scrap parchment as he waited on his cauldron to boil. At the top of what seemed to be a list, “Ideas for Yule gifts for Draco” was scratched. Harry scanned the list quickly, curiosity rising. Tickets to a quidditch match, a new pet, a trip to a dragon sanctuary, a broomstick repair kit. Harry frowned, eyes downcast as he got his ingredients and got back to the table with Pansy.
“You good, Potter?” she asked as she measured out powdered spine of lionfish.
Harry nodded. “Yeah. Just realized something.” He dumped out the things he had grabbed and helped her measure things out. His mind was racing. After four months of Draco posturing about his father’s power, and the Malfoys’ place in the Wizarding World, making comments about how he was so far ahead of anyone else in their year, and this was what he wanted for Yule? It was like water had been poured over Harry’s head, this realization that even after all of that, Draco was still just an innocent child in this political war that was raging. And the fact that he was comfortable asking for these things? Made Harry doubt anything he thought he knew about the elder Malfoys, because it was abundantly clear to him now how utterly adored his fellow first year was by his parents.
Hermione took this information, when Harry mentioned it, with a similar thoughtful look. Ron, however, scoffed. “Course he’s shallow like that, he’s the only child from a rich pureblood family. What did you expect, a Death Eater mask?”
Harry glared at him. “That seems to be what you think he’s asking for, calling him a mini–Death Eater all the time.”
A flush rose up Ron’s throat, mottling his pale skin. “You know I don’t anymore, not until there’s proof. You’ve made your point very clear, Hadrian. Our generation will not evolve or learn anything if we fall back on the stereotypes of generations previous,” he recited.
Harry grinned, ducking under one of Ron’s arms to give him a side hug as they walked back to the common room. “Exactly.”
One evening, Professor Snape went around the common room to make a list of students staying for the holidays. Harry and Flick both signed up at once, Flick winking at Harry over the quill as she signed her full name with a flourish. Ron was only a step behind, scrawling his name with a shrug. His brothers were staying, too, as their parents were taking Ginny and visiting Charlie in Romania. Harry couldn’t help but grin as he watched his friends sign the list, knowing that this would probably be the best Christmas he’d ever had. Hermione pulled that grin from his face, however, when she stepped up to put her name down as well.
“Weren’t your parents taking you to France for the holidays?” Harry asked, pulling her aside with Ron at his back with a frown.
The girl blushed brilliantly under her dark skin. “They’re still going. But… I don’t know, call me sentimental, but this is our first Christmas—Yule, whatever—at Hogwarts, together, and I kind of wanted to spend it here, with you two. I already wrote my parents that I wanted to spend the break with my first two real friends, and I guess they couldn’t say no.” The hug that the boys wrapped her in made her blush continue for another ten minutes after, especially when they all three had grins for the rest of the night. Snape rolled his eyes at the emotion and quickly left with the small list he had created, mainly a few fifth and seventh years who decided to stay back to study, and the three first years.
The next day, as the trio made their way up to breakfast, discussing a joint gift they could get for Percy, they found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead of them, filling the brisk air with the smell of sap. The sudden pounce of a happy Fang told them that Hagrid was somewhere around, probably somewhere behind the tree if the large boots underneath it was a sign.
Ron used his height to stick his head through the branches. “Morning, Hagrid. Need any help? We’re wicked with a levitation charm these days.”
Harry bit back a snide remark at Hagrid’s not so subtle attempt to not cringe over their green robes. “Nah, I’m all right, thanks, Ron.”
“Would you mind moving out of the way?” Malfoy drawled from behind them. “Some of us don’t need to work for our meals and would like to be able to eat before class.” His mouth snapped closed as Harry and Ron both snapped around to glare at him. He put his hands up. “Just trying to eat before we freeze in the hallway and the dog eats us all.”
Hermione put a hand on her hip. “There’s plenty of room to walk around, Malfoy, feel free to use it. Your precious hair won’t be ruined by walking too close to nature.”
The blonde rolled his eyes and proceeded to lead Crabbe and Goyle around the mass of the tree, nodding to Professor Snape, who had arrived at the disruption. The man’s eyes ran over all of them, before he rolled them and sighed. “Move along, all of you.” His wand waved over the floor, picking up the scattered pine needles that had flown all over from the tree.
“Why thank you, Professor Snape, and you’re right, it is a wonderful morning.” Harry gave the professor a cheeky grin from his spot next to Fang, petting the happy dog.
Snape glared at the boy. “Please refrain from bringing fleas into the Great Hall, Mr. Potter, people do eat there.” He disappeared past the tree as well.
“Fang don’t got no fleas!” Hagrid called indignantly after him as he shifted the tree. “C’mon, you three, come see the Great Hall, looks a treat.”
They followed Hagrid and the tree into the Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with holiday decorations. Flitwick had a few older years circled around him, apparently teaching them a spell to conjure tiny icicles to adorn the trees with. Four large fireplaces along the walls were burning heartily, casting a warm light across the tables covered with holly and pinecones. There was a buzz in the room, almost as if the magic of the castle was excited as the traditional decorations were placed around. Harry felt the hair on his arms raise as he watched the last tree be placed in the corner and decorated. The four of them huddled in a corner away from the tables, Fang having run off to beg for food from one of the house tables.
“How many days you got left ‘til yer holidays?” Hagrid asked as he wiped sap off of his hands with a rag he pulled from his pockets, one that Harry doubted was clean enough to do anything.
“Just one,” replied Hermione. “We finish our last midterm exam today and then tomorrow will just be revising before most everyone leaves.”
“And you lot are stayin’? I’ll expect you three fer tea at some point, then.” He tried to give them what passed as a ‘stern’ look, but it just came across as a bit congested.
Harry, ignoring Ron and Hermione hiding their laughter, stepped forward. “Of course. It would be a great chance for you to introduce me to your dog up on the third floor.”
Hermione immediately whacked his shoulder. “Subtle, Hadrian.”
Harry rolled his eyes, but Hagrid’s eyes were wider than the dinner platters already adorning the house tables, and his voice dropped to what he would call a whisper. “How do you know about Fluffy?”
“We accidentally ran into him, we weren’t looking for trouble. But we assumed that he got a hold of Professor Snape back on Samhain, and obviously there was a trapdoor beneath him.” Ron elbowed Harry out of the way. “Of course he had to be yours, such a beautiful creature, and we were hoping to learn a bit more. Harry here, in particular, had a few questions.”
“Now you three don’t go poking yer noses where they don’t belong. Dumbledore asked for Fluffy in particular, and you don’t need knowing more than that.”
“We don’t care about the trapdoor. I’m much more interested in his upkeep. Does each head have a different personality? What sort of enrichment do you do for him? And are cerberi always that large?” Harry settled on top of a small table nearby that was usually kept full of tea for students in between meals, looking at Hagrid expectantly. When Hermione gave him an exasperated look, he just waved her off.
“Well, course it’s hard teh do much, he’s gotta stay in the room teh guard. I’ll try an’ bring him live poultry, so he can catch it an’ kill it himself. But it’s been a poor year fer the lil tyke. An’ he’s actually small fer his species, usually a grown man can walk right neath ‘em without even scraping his head on the belly.”
“He’s got to stay in there all the time? But there’s barely a window in that room, how does he get any of the exercise needed for a dog his size?”
Hagrid shook his head sadly. “Aye, he ain’t been in the best o’ moods. Can’t even walk him. When ol’ Nick Flamel lent Dumbledore his treasure, he was very specific it had tuh be guarded at all times.”
Hermione and Ron’s eyes widened, but Harry kept Hagrid’s attention firmly on himself.
“Well, surely once most of the students are out of the castle, you’ll be able to let him out for a bit? Maybe have one of the professors guard the room in the meantime?”
The giant’s face lit up. “Ye know, I didn’t think o’ that! Mayhaps I’ll go find Dumbledore an’ see if he can set sommat up. Smart lad, you are, Harry. Cheers! C’mon, Fang!” With that, he lumbered away, whistling a tune as he went.
“Brilliant, Harry, absolutely brilliant.” Hermione grinned as she tackled Harry in a hug, causing them both to sprawl across the tea table, plates and goblets clattering around them.
Ron just watched the two of them laughing, a pensive look on his face. “Okay, yeah. Great job getting the information. But exactly who is Nick Flamel?”
Hermione sat up. “Well, normally I’d say let’s go look in the library. But we have no reference point where to start, and it’s not like we can ask any of the faculty, as they’ll all know exactly why we’re asking. But, if Nick Flamel is as important as he seems to be to warrant a special protection of his personal items under lock and key in Hogwarts, surely one of the purebloods will know.”
“Flick! She’s staying anyway, she won’t be busy packing later.” Harry jumped off the table.
“Harry, wait. Flick should be a last option. She’s head girl, if she figures out why we’re asking, even her soft spot for you might not be enough to keep her from telling McGonagall.” Ron caught him by the robes, careful not to accidentally choke him, as he was still wary of that after the Quidditch match.
“Ugh, fine. Mione, maybe ask Theo? He’ll probably know all about him, and if not, he’ll at least know what books to point us to.”
Hermione nodded and stood as well. “Breakfast? I would like to get some revision in before Transfiguration later.”
Ron laughed as he pulled Harry down towards their usual seats at the Slytherin table. “You, revision? Who would’ve guessed.”
Draco subtly handed Harry a letter from his mother, and that morning’s copy of The Daily Prophet, the headline reading Nation Mourns Loss of Black Lord, Arcturus the Third. A solemn nod passed between the two distant cousins, Draco’s deeper than usual, as a member of the Black family to the new official Heir of the family. All Harry had of his uncle was a single letter that was kept with his other prized possessions in his trunk, but the loss still stung, even with Aunt Narcissa giving words of wisdom and what comfort a Heritage Black could manage.
A quick conversation with Theo Nott produced only a bit of information, but it was more than enough for Hermione to know where to look in the library. All Theo said, as he levitated his trunk out of the common room door, was “Oh, he’s a super old alchemist, older than Dumbledore by a fair margin. Interesting enough research, that’s for sure. Happy holidays!” Hermione waved goodbye and turned to the library with a gleam in her eyes. The boys, however, pulled her away as soon as the Express left the station, and Ron set about teaching them the basics he knew of how to celebrate Yule.
Once the holidays had started, the trio were pulled into Twin Terrors antics almost immediately. After figuring out that the Slytherin House was practically deserted except for studious students and a few random stragglers that kept to themselves, Fred and George took it as their duty to introduce them to Hogwarts traditions. By the second day of the holiday, the twins had dragged them up multiple flights of stairs and stood them in front of a portrait of a large woman in a pink silk dress who eyed them all warily. Harry and Ron were happy to just explore the tower, and Hermione had an ancient book under her arm.
“You’re not Gryffindors,” she accused.
Harry bowed slightly. “No, Madam, but we’re friends of many in the house, and have no ill will for any you protect. May I ask your name?”
“It’s just the Fat Lady, Harry, no need for the theatrics,” Fred said, slinging an arm around his shoulders.
“What a despicable title!” Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. “Is there another name you prefer, Madam?” She turned to the portrait.
The woman in the painting watched them all, still wary. “You may call me Dawn.”
Hermione gave a small curtsey. “A pleasure, Lady Dawn.”
Harry followed with another bow, looking up at her with wide, pleading eyes. “An honor, I’d say, milady. One that we may ask to enjoy again.”
She gave a sniff in response before turning to the twins. “I’m sure. You two know I’m not to let others through.”
George gestured to the others. “But they have the password!”
“Then what is it?” she asked, a regal eyebrow raised, eyes sliding to Ron, who was the Slytherin closest to her.
“Uhh—” his eyes widened as the portrait stared down at him.
“No password, no entry.”
Ron turned frantically to the nearest twin, who leaned down to whisper something in his ear.
George gestured again. “But they have the password!” He gave a wide grin.
Nodding near violently, Ron spoke up. “Fairy lights.”
Lady Dawn sighed, pressing a hand to her eyes. “I regret doing this already.” But the portrait swung open, and the twins pushed the three first years into the warmth.
They settled in front of the fireplace in the far too red room, and Fred handed each of them a toasting fork while George called the Gryffindor house elf, Nitwit, for a variety of snacks to roast. Percy wandered into the common room, a pile of books and scrolls under his arms.
“You lot please keep it down, I’ve got studying to do.” Percy barely glanced at them as he scattered his things around a table on the other side of the nearly empty room.
“Percy, can Harry borrow your chess set? I want to teach him how to play,” Ron called across.
The older boy just nodded, gesturing towards the dorms. “Just run in and get them, Ron, they’re in a drawer in my desk. Just don’t touch any of my books, they’re open to very specific pages.”
Ron disappeared down the hallway with Fred, who showed him where Percy’s room was and ducked in to place a few prank candies around.
As the two were gone, Percy’s mind caught up to him, and he turned suddenly in his chair, glaring at the other two first years. “You three aren’t supposed to be in here! How did you get past the Fat Lady?”
Harry just smiled innocently. “Do you mean Lady Dawn? She was very kind to let us through so we didn’t have to spend the day alone. We didn’t want Ron to miss out on spending the holidays with his family.”
“The location of the common rooms are supposed to be a secret.”
“That’s so stupid though!” Harry pouted, looking up at Percy. “But fine, if you don’t want us here, we’ll just have to take the twins to the Slytherin common room, and since no one responsible is there, maybe they can teach us a few pranks.”
Percy’s blinked, looking back and forth between Harry and George, who wouldn’t meet his eyes. When Ron and Fred arrived back in the common room, Percy stood and crossed the room. “I do not think you should be in another house’s common room, but I am glad that you can spend the holidays around us, and that you brought your friends.” He gave Ron a stilted hug, before turning back to his corner and keeping his back to the others.
Ron looked at Harry, who was grinning smugly, Hermione, who rolled her eyes, and then both of the twins, who just shrugged, Fred pushing Ron gently towards his place by the fireplace again.
While they ate, Ron and Hermione started teaching Harry how to play chess, Ron pointing out the few differences between muggle and wizard’s chess. Ron’s set of pieces were old and battered, unlike Percy’s, which were just a little newer, having been a gift a few years earlier. They walked down to dinner together, even sitting together at the Gryffindor table, before slipping away to the dungeons with Flick afterwards.
The following days followed similarly, the three either studying and reading in the Slytherin common room, relishing in the silence, or making their way through to the Gryffindor house, to laugh and learn spells from the older Weasleys. Even Percy helped teach them a few spells, and valiantly answered Hermione’s questions about OWLS. Hagrid was also visited, regaling them with tales of the animals he would see in the forest, which gave Harry a sharp gleam in his eye.
One night at dinner, a night the staff decided to sit among the students, a nervous Harry settled next to the mauled and disformed face of Professor Kettleburn, the Care of Magical Creatures teacher.
The man stared down at the boy with confusion, an expression that didn’t change as Harry started asking question after question about his course, about the animals in the Forest, about animals beyond.
“I mean, Hagrid’s great and all. But he's worse than Hermione about going off on tangents, and it’s not the best way to collect information for a grimoire or a research paper. Would you mind going over a few things?”
The professor stared the scrawny first year down, eyes not even flickering towards his forehead, and eventually grunted. “Aye. Meet me in Hagrid’s cabin for tea in the morning after sunrise and we’ll head into the Forest. And for all intents and purposes, I am only aware of trips you make in the Forest with me as an escort, and you will let me know any issues you create for yourself when you don’t listen to that rule.”
Harry grinned. “Thank you, sir. You won’t regret this. I promise to include you in any manuscripts I publish in the future.”
Kettleburn laughed. “No need for that, lad. But appreciate it nonetheless.”
The next morning, Hermione blinked from the couch in the lounge as Harry crept out of his room, fully dressed and grinning. “Go back to sleep, Mione. I’ll be back for lunch and I’ll tell you all about the horrifying things I find in the forest.”
She groaned, and turned back into the couch cushions, as she did almost every day for the rest of term as Harry started to learn the Forest at the heels of the two adults at the school who truly knew it.
The night of the 21st, Ron and Hermione sent an annoyed Harry to go knock on the Head Girl’s dorm door. When Flick opened her door, ink spots all over her hands and her wand tucked through the braid crown on her head, it was to the pleading eyes of her favorite first year.
“I’m studying, sprog, what do you want?”
Harry looked down then met her eyes over the top of his glasses. “Can you teach us any Yule traditions for the solstice?”
She sighed, and then grabbed her robes from beside the door. “You’re lucky I’m due for a snack break. Where are the other two?”
The next few days were spend learning at Flick’s side, the three of them sprawled over the common room floor with notes and books piled around them. In between sessions of homework and studying for all of them, the seventh-year pureblood showed them how to give offerings at the owl windows for fairies, to light candles for the gods and goddesses, to build charms of holly, pinecone, and mistletoe to leave on doorframes for good luck and prosperity. Tweak, who had grown fond of Harry and his tagalongs, was more than happy to deliver snacks, plants, and advice to the avid first years. Flick also told them that Christmas was the ‘official’ holiday for Hogwarts, but many students still practiced these traditions behind closed doors.
They all went to bed on the 24th eager for the next day’s festivities, for the food and the fun. Harry was thrilled for holiday with friends, but wasn’t exactly expecting any presents. The next morning, however, he woke to a pounding on his door. Still ingrained from mornings at the Dursleys, he sprang awake in an instant and stood.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Harry opened the door to a yawning Ron. “Happy Yule, mate. C’mon, Hermione’s brought her gifts over and we’ve got the fire going.” The redhead turned, leaving the door open as he settled on the couch next to Hermione, who was levitating her gifts from across the hall to under the tree with two other separate piles.
“I’ve got presents?” Harry asked, pulling his housecoat on and pulling his door closed behind him.
“What did you expect, turnips?” Ron levitated his own (admittedly larger) pile over to the far side of the fire, settling on the floor next to it.
Hermione shot Ron a glare before turning to Harry with a soft understanding. “You’ve got quite a few, Harry. Come sit, I asked Tweak to send us some pastries and some hot chocolate, it should be here any moment. Flick said that breakfast will be more of a brunch, and it won’t be served for a few more hours. I’m sure we’ll have plenty to snack on in the meantime.”
Harry grinned. “Brill.” He copied Ron’s lead and settled on the floor to one side of the fire, pulling his pile from under the tree. The first parcel was wrapped in thick brown paper, and the scrawl on the top read From Hagrid. Harry tore into it, pulling out a copy of Even More Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, which was double the size of the original text. Also tucked into the package was a roughly cut wooden flute, obviously whittled by the man himself, and a plate of rock cakes.
Ron gave Harry a sympathetic look. “They’re called rock cakes for a reason, good luck.”
Harry shrugged. “At least I know he put in quite a bit of effort for all this.” He pushed the plate in front of the fire just as a tea cart of hot cocoa and pastries appeared next to the couch.
“Thank you, Tweak!” the three said in unison to open air. They took a break to pass around cups of cocoa and plates of pastries, before they settled back to their spots, Hermione now joining the boys on the floor.
Hermione squealed at the polaroid camera waiting for her, and instantly took a picture of the chaos they had already created. The photo that printed was immediately placed on the wall of the lounge under a note from Ginny and the one assignment from Latin that Theo had scored better on than Hermione, which had his sprawling signature under the Perfect Score notation.
Harry turned to his next parcel, a very small one that was a folded note in Petunia’s hastily scribbled handwriting. He scoffed as he pulled a fifty pence piece from the letter.
“That’s all your aunt gave you?” Hermione asked, staring at the coin worriedly.
Harry shrugged. “It’s better than the usual coat hanger or old socks with holes in them.”
Ron, however, was ignoring the loaded conversation by pulling the piece from Harry’s hand. “Whoa, is this muggle money? What a shape!”
The other two laughed, Harry waving the other boy’s hand away. “Keep it, Ron. It’s not like I don’t have plenty of money now.”
The next package was very lumpy and in a similar paper to one in Ron’s pile. Harry caught the name of the sender and suddenly was swallowing back tears.
“Oh, Mum mentioned she was going to send you two something.” Ron had turned a bit pink along his neck and ears as he focused intensely on a gift in front of him.
Harry turned to see Hermione with a similarly shaped gift. She sent Harry a soft smile, and they opened it together. Harry now held a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green, and a large box of homemade fudge.
Hermione’s was a deep violet, and had a dark silver H on its front, and a loaf of fruitcake. Harry looked back down to notice the silver H on his as well, and blinked rapidly before looking at Ron.
He just shrugged, flushing again. “She makes us all one every year. I guess I’ve talked about you lot enough that she’s decided you’re part of the family. I just hope mine isn’t maroon again.”
Harry nodded, tucking the letter placed on the tin of fudge to the side to read later as he tried the fudge, which was very tasty.
Hermione looked to Ron. “How did she know my favorite color was violet?”
Ron was staring down at his own sweater now, his a dark gray with a green letter R. “I might have mentioned it.”
“How did you know?” Her eyes were shining with tears as well.
Ron rubbed his bright red neck, obviously embarrassed. “You always go for your purple pen when you write notes, and use purple ribbon to tie up your schedule. I kinda guessed.”
It was Hermione’s turn to blush as she just nodded. “Thanks, Ron.”
They worked through the rest of their presents, books for and from each other, magical candy from their yearmates, magical planners from Flick for all of them (Hermione let out an actual squeal at this), and muggle candy from Hermione’s parents.
Harry laughed at the irony, which then made Ron confused, so Hermione spent a solid ten minutes on Christmas morning explaining to Ron how and why muggles needed dentists, to his horror.
Harry was thrilled by how many gifts he had received. The pile of candy he had gotten was worryingly large, and he had quite a few books to work through from Ron and Hermione, and one from Gerard. Marcus had sent a Broom Servicing Kit, and even the Weasley twins had sent Harry an array of prank candies and toys, and a voucher to be given to them to prank a person of his choosing. A few of his more casual friends from other houses, like Anthony Goldstein and Susan Bones, had just sent a formal Yule, Hanukkah, or Christmas card, but even that was more than Harry had ever assumed he would get. At the bottom of his pile, tucked beneath a pile of legislation and paperwork that was Gerard’s idea of a gag gift, was an elegant box wrapped in silver. Harry pulled it open, confused. Inside were three letters, one from Neville, one from apparently his grandmother, Lady Longbottom, and a short one from Hagrid.
Neville’s letter was full of another round of gratitude for the night of the duel, and for being his friend in general. Also in it was his regret that he told his grandmother some specifics about Harry’s home life and lack of knowledge about his parents. It went on to include, hesitantly by the wording of it, a little information about Neville’s own parents, and how they were in a magical hospital for life, not even knowing what’s going on around them. It also told Harry that his godmother was Neville’s mother, Alice, and that Neville’s was meant to be Harry’s mother, Lily. Hence Neville wanting to share what he could.
Lady Longbottom’s letter was of the same vein, telling Harry about how her son Frank was a few years older than Harry’s parents, and that Alice and Lily, who shared a dorm in Gryffindor, were best friends their last few years at school, and went through their pregnancies together. She explained that she and Hagrid, surprisingly, wrote to a few of other people who were either friendly with or were related to Harry’s parents and put together a sort of project for him, as he had so little to remember them by.
Hagrid’s note just explained that he had planned to do this on his own, and gift it at the end of the year, but when Lady Augusta had written him, he just sent all he had on to her and let her put it together.
Harry was numb by the time he read all three, and his hands were shaking as he opened the box. Inside was a beautiful leather book, with his initials stamped in the bottom left corner in silver. When he opened the book, his gasp drew the attention of Ron and Hermione, who immediately left their piles to look over his shoulders. Hermione echoed his gasp, and Ron gripped his shoulder as they looked down at a picture of his parents, twirling around a fountain at what must have been their wedding. Next to it was pasted a letter from James to Frank, telling him how nervous and excited he was that Lily had agreed to marry him, and telling him that he was expected to be a groomsman. Entranced, the three of them moved to the couch, and sat with Harry sandwiched between them, looking through each and every photo, letter, and memory. Harry traced over the faces of his parents and their friends, watching them shift and move under his hand, grinning up at him. Some of the writing beside the pictures were letters from house- and yearmates, addressed to Harry, regaling him with stories of his father’s pranks, his mother’s prowess in charms and potions, and even the long and complicated relationship between the two.
“Neville said my mum was his godmother, and his mum was mine.” Harry’s voice was hardly a whisper, barely heard over the crackle of the fire.
“Godparents are supposed to be a big deal here. If that Halloween hadn’t happened, you and Neville would have grown up as godbrothers, which for us is as good as actual brothers,” Ron replied, rubbing a circle into Harry’s shoulder from where his arm was across them.
“Could they have taken me in?”
Ron hesitated before nodding. “Godparents are serious here, magically and legally. If something happens to the parents, the godparents are supposed to raise the kid like one of their own. And in situations like Black, where he has no heirs, it’s not uncommon for the godkid to be named heir of the house. I’m not super into the law side of things, but honestly Lady Longbottom might have been able to take you as well. Maybe you should ask Marcus’ dad.”
“If godparents are that big of a deal, I should probably have him look a little bit more into Sirius Black, too. Just to see what all happened there, why he would leave his duties as godfather.”
Harry picked up a small parcel with what he recognized as the Black family seal. “At least Uncle Arcturus still seems to be doing his duty towards me, even in death.” He opened it, seeing a silver pin with his initials set over the Black seal, and a wax stamp with the Black insignia as well. He fiddled with them, fingers tracing over a short note from his uncle, once again stating his pride in the future of the Black family.
He leaned back into Ron’s arm, even as Hermione curled into his other side, her head settled on the same shoulder Ron was rubbing. The three first years closed the album a while later, just taking in the already emotional day.
The fireplace in the first-year boy’s lounge was roaring happily as the morning progressed, with a Yule log they had dragged in with Flick the night before burning. Most of the gifts had been unwrapped, and after a few moments, Ron leaned down to his pile of scraps, grabbed some discarded paper, and tossed it at Hermione, hitting it squarely in her forehead. Harry’s laughter pealed through the room, causing even Hermione’s frown to turn to a grin. She quickly ducked down as well, picking up her own paper to throw back at Ron. Within a minute, the three of them had a quick but exhausting fight with crumpled up wrapping paper, ducking around chairs and the couch. Harry finally had to tap out, literally ending up laying on the floor, tapping the rug underneath him as he tried to catch his breath from laughter. Ron and Hermione eyed each other for a moment before Hermione stuck out her tongue, and they settled down to examine their presents, each back on the floor. Harry had sprawled out, and was beginning to feel his eyes droop from the comfort of the fire and his two friends near him.
Ron’s voice broke through the haze, as he pointed to a package left under the tree that hummed with the light of tiny fairies that nestled in the pine garland. “Harry, look. Think that one’s yours, mate.”
Harry frowned. “Who else would send me something?”
“You’re the savior of the world, mate, not surprising anyone who can get through your mail wards would send you a gift.”
“My mail wards don’t apply while I’m at school, Hogwarts wards are stronger, so any mail not sent with Hedwig gets sent through Gringotts. Griphook would have sent a separate note if this was something I needed to see that made its way to the bank.” Harry bent to pick it up. “Mione, can you scan it, just in case?”
Hermione looked up from her own spot on the floor, surrounded by her gifts in a loose circle so she could write a list of thank-you notes to send. “Everything is scanned before it gets into the common room, Harry, if it was dangerous it wouldn’t have made it through.” She pulled out her wand anyway. “No shame in getting some extra practice, though. I expect you two to be able to cast these by next year, though. Maybe the scans don’t catch something sent from the common room itself.”
The boys rolled their eyes, but nodded when they met each other’s gaze.
A few colors popped up over the package at Hermione’s spell. “Looks fine. Nothing malicious or harmful, but it is definitely something magical.”
Harry shrugged and began unwrapping it, Ron looking over his shoulder. On top of what seemed like some fabric was a note in looping cursive. “Your father left this in my possession before he died… Thought it was time to return it… Use it well? What a load of tripe,” Harry muttered.
“Who’s it from?” Ron asked as he pulled away, settling back by his unwrapped gifts.
“Dumbledore, of course. I recognize his handwriting from some of the documents Gerard made me look through. I’m guessing this is something from my family vault he pulled out, and is now gifting it to me like it wasn’t already mine to begin with.” He looked at the note again. “Happy Christmas? Isn’t he a pureblood? But he doesn’t keep to the old traditions?”
Ron shrugged, shifting through his pile of candy from family and Harry. “Think his mum was a first-gen? Can’t say for sure. No one knows much about the Dumbledores. Maybe he just said Christmas to make you feel comfortable? You were raised muggle, he may just have thought you didn’t know about Yule or something.”
Hermione rolled her eyes as she was scanning through the summaries of her new books, probably deciding which to read first. “And Merlin forbid he actually try to teach Harry the old ways. Or any first-gens. No. We have to either learn ourselves or not bother assimilating.”
Ron sighed quietly at the start of her usual rant and then grinned when Harry quickly leaned across the floor and shoved a sugar quill into the Hermione’s mouth. She glared at them both but got the message and settled.
Harry, meanwhile, had taken the fabric from the packaging.
Ron’s gasp echoed as the end of the fabric fell to the ground. “Blimey, Harry, that was in your family vault? Bloody brilliant!”
“What is it?” Hermione asked from her corner, eyeing the fabric critically.
Instead of answering, Ron just nodded at Harry. “Go on, mate, put it on.”
Harry held the cloak out in front of him, then shrugged and found the opening, throwing it over his shoulders.
Ron and Hermione both were staring at him, jaws agape.
“What?” Harry asked, flicking back and forth between his two friends.
“Harry… Look down at yourself.”
He looked down quickly, and then jumped back. “What the hell?”
“That’s an invisibility cloak, Harry. Insanely rare. Amazing quality for something from your da, they tend to fade after a decade or two.” Ron stood, circling around Harry.
Hermione’s eyes were wide. “That could be so dangerous… But so useful. It would be so easy to get into the Forbidden Section with this.”
Harry laughed. “Mione, it’d be easy to get into anywhere with this.”
Ron sighed, pulling the cloak from Harry’s shoulders. “Let’s not get expelled on Christmas day, please. That’s not the kind of present I need from Professor Snape.”
The other two laughed before turning back to the rest of their gifts. After only slight prodding from their friend, Ron and Harry also created lists of thank you notes to send out, with Harry adding a note to himself to have Gerard look into both Lady Longbottom’s claim to him as well as Sirius Black’s incarceration.
After about an hour of casual silence, Hermione closed the book she was reading with a snap. “C’mon, you two, brunch will be served soon.” She stood and stretched.
Ron groaned. “Fine. But we should all wear the sweaters that my mum made, family tradition. Percy might even have his old camera, we can send a picture of all of us in the sweaters to her and Da.”
“Ron, didn’t you say your dad loved all things muggle? Why don’t we send him a picture of us with Hermione’s new polaroid camera, I’m sure he’ll get a kick out of that.”
“Mione, can we?” Ron instantly turned a pleading look to a laughing Hermione, who nodded.
They all went back to their rooms to change, all of them adorning their new sweaters. Harry threw on some woolen pants to stay warm before meeting out in the hall, yawning.
“Wake up, sprog, you have a feast to chew through.” Flick was standing at the end of the hall, grinning as she tied her hair back.
“Happy Yule, Flick. Thanks for the planners, Hermione went mental over them.” Harry walked down to give her a hug as they waited for the other first years.
“Thanks for the Edgar Allen Poe collection. Very cool. My dad will flip when he sees me reading it, couldn’t be more thrilled.” She grinned down at him. “Alright you two?”
Harry turned to see Ron and Hermione making their way down. “Cheers, Flick, happy Yule,” Ron called down.
“The planner will be ever so useful, Flick, thank you so much!” Hermione was bouncing with joy.
Flick just waved their thanks aside. “C’mon, I’m starved, and I want to split a Christmas cracker with Hadrian here.”
They all made their way up from the chill of the dungeons and into the warmth of the Great Hall, where all of the house tables had vanished, leaving a single table running down the length of the hall, centered to be perpendicular to the professors’ table. The Weasley twins waved them all over, grinning. Flick rolled her eyes and kept going down the table to sit with a seventh year Ravenclaw.
“Nice sweaters, you three!” Fred shifted down so he could pull Ron in between him and Percy, who was reading silently, but looked up with a smile at the first years.
“We had to force Perfect Prefect Percy into his. He was trying to escape from family time, the shame.” George shook his head ruefully. “Harry and Hermione’s are better than ours, of course. Mum must put more effort in if you’re not blood.”
Fred laughed. “Put letters on yours, too, huh? She must think you forget your own names, like us.”
“Which is ridiculous, we know who we are.” George puffed out his chest, showing off the yellow letter on his sweater.
“Of course. I’m Gred and he’s Forge.” Fred picked at the blue G on his.
Harry laughed as he settled next to George. “Happy with your gifts, you two?”
George settled an arm around Harry’s shoulders, pulling him closer to his side. “You have no idea how much chaos we’re going to cause with that owl order to Zonko’s, Hadrian.”
Fred leaned across Hermione to chime in. “And how did you manage to get Peeves to agree to helping us?”
Hermione’s head snapped to where Harry was now hiding behind George, not even noticing how her hair was now in Fred’s mouth. “Peeves, Harry? You didn’t.”
Harry shrugged. “He owed me a favor because I told him when Filch was cleaning a window up on a rather tall ladder with a large bucket of water.”
“Harry! That poor old man!”
Everyone in earshot started laughing, even Percy, who closed his book and straightened his glasses. “Hermione, Filch only works here because literally no other business will hire him, muggle or magical, and he takes that out on the students. I do agree that he shouldn’t be tortured, but I must admit I lack much sympathy for the man. His position here is rather redundant, seeing as the house elves go behind him and clean everything anyways.”
“Still, how shocking.” She shook her head and began serving herself from the food that had appeared on the table. Entire roasted turkeys, mountains of potatoes in various forms, peas, gravy, cranberry sauce—the table was covered from one end to the other, the golden plate settings barely fitting in between mounds of food and wizard crackers.
Harry was astonished by the feast in front of him, even after the months at Hogwarts. The table seemed to groan at the new weight, and he could feel the minor magic coming from the piles of crackers every few feet.
Percy placed a hand on Harry’s arm, gaining his attention, and Hermione and Ron looked his way as well. “I just wanted to thank you all for my gift. Most of the family just gets me books, but I was quite please with what I received from the three of you.”
Ron blushed, but Harry and Hermione grinned at the eldest present Weasley, who had apparently brought the box full of sticky notes, pencils, notecards, highlighters, and other supplies.
“Of course, Percy. We thought that you might like any study aides you could get with OWLs coming up, and Hermione and I realized that the wix don’t necessarily have a lot of options when it comes to that. It was easy enough to have the Grangers run into a muggle office supply store and pick an assortment of things for you.” Harry patted his hand that was still on his arm. “We’re more than happy to supply any more you may need. We may start a business out of this.” He winked and went back to eating.
Harry pulled a cracker with Fred, across Hermione and George’s plates, and it went off like a cannon, covering them all in a blue fog of glitter. On the table, having emerged from the cracker, was a rear admiral’s hat, and several live, white mice, which were quickly caught by a nifty spell from Percy and tucked into a cage.
“They’ll disappear in a few minutes,” he told the first years, seeing Harry’s eyes go wide at the animals. Harry’s excitement fell into a pout as he tried to pet the mice through the bars of the cage. Up at the High Table, Dumbledore swapped his usual floppy wizard’s hat for a flowered bonnet that somehow managed to match his floral robes, and was chuckling merrily at a joke that Professor Flitwick had just read him.
Soon enough, flaming puddings followed the main course. Percy nearly broke his tooth on a sickle lodged in his slice of pudding, and they all watched as Hagrid downed more and more from a jug that definitely was not on the student’s table, and the man turned redder and redder, until he finally kissed Professor McGonagall on the cheek. Their clump of students froze, watching carefully, until the woman giggled and blushed, causing them all to turn to each other quickly.
“Blimey, never thought I’d see that,” George muttered.
“And let’s hope we don’t see it again,” Ron agreed.
After a full two hours of food and fun, Harry was laden down with things he had pulled from crackers shared with all of the friends that had stayed at the castle. He was most excited about his own new wizarding chess set.
That afternoon saw them back in the Gryffindor common room, Harry breaking in his chess set by losing spectacularly to Ron, even with Percy’s help. Fred and George cackling in the corner made Harry eye his pieces warily, but he took the loss with a grin. Dinner was served in the common room, and Harry and Hermione watched Percy chase the twins and Ron all over the tower because Fred had stolen his prefect badge again and Ron had been using it to practice his imitation of his older brother, causing both of the twins to roll on the floor with laughter.
Another upper year Gryffindor, a first-gen who didn’t even blink at the Slytherins in the common room, taught Hermione a copying charm for the polaroid photos she was taking, and within a few hours, the Weasleys had an envelope full of pictures to send back to their parents, and Harry had just as many to tuck into his journal.
Soon after, the trio, warm, full, and sleepy, stumbled into the Slytherin common room, past an amused Flick studying in the corner, and into the boy’s lounge to collapse on the couch, almost immediately dozing as they laid out, half on top of each other.
Harry, trying to write in his journal, couldn’t help but think back to the cloak now resting on his bed. He kept shifting under Ron’s head, which was laid on his stomach, Ron’s legs over the armrest of the couch, Harry’s head on Hermione’s shoulder. Harry’s twitching was evident to his friends, to the point that the other boy groaned.
“Hadrian Potter, whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t. I’m far too tired to get detention tonight.” His voice was low, but Hermione still stirred.
“We won’t get detention if we don’t get caught, there’s barely anyone in the castle, and only a few prefects who would be doing rounds. What are you thinking, Harry?”
Harry laughed. “You two got your lines mixed up. Anyone fancy trying out my nice new cloak?”
“Don’t you want to try it on your own? It was your da’s, a family heirloom.” Ron frowned up at him with worry in his eyes.
“And you two are my family. At least the one I have now. I don’t mind sharing my past with you, not something like this. Besides, if that album is anything to go by, my da and his friends were troublemakers, so he would probably love that I’m using it like this.”
Hermione stood so quickly that both of the boys fell to the rug, laughing and groaning simultaneously. Ignoring their complaints, Hermione started bouncing again. “Come on, let’s go!”
It took a few minutes for them to coerce Ron out of the warmth of the lounge, but he hadn’t been able to truly say no to either of them since the Hogwarts Express, so he was soon ducking under the Invisibility Cloak with them.
They wandered around the halls for a while, just exploring, testing out oddly placed light fixtures or tapestries for secret passages. The boys had to convince Hermione that the first night out wasn’t the best time to break into the Restricted Section—maybe after they knew a few shortcuts between the library and the house so they could get back quickly if something went wrong. They were at the end of the hall where the entrance to the library was, whispering this argument, when they heard a loud meow.
All three froze, not even breathing.
After a second, Hermione took a shallow breath. “Ron, do you know if Invisibility Cloaks can block scent?”
All the redhead responded with was a very slow shake of the head.
“And I doubt me occasionally giving her some kippers will have endeared her to me this early on, maybe next year,” Harry added, eyes locked on the new shadow at the other end of the hall, one looming with a flicking tail.
“We passed by a door that was open, if we go right now we can probably close it behind us without her hearing, lock it behind us.” Ron wrapped a hand around both Hermione and Harry’s wrists, pulling them back.
They moved quickly and quietly, jumping at every noise until they filed through the ajar door. Harry scanned the room to make sure it was empty before whipping the cloak off of them, Hermione already closing the door with a soft click, and tracing her wand over the handle.
Ron, meanwhile, was laughing, even as the others shushed him. “It’s just hilarious that we barely blink getting in trouble with the professors, but Mrs. Norris sends us running.”
“Oh, hush.” Hermione turned away from locking the door, and then froze. “What’s that?”
Propped up against the far wall of the unused classroom was a large, ornate mirror. The frame was a decadently styled gold which extended on all four sides and continued into two clawed feet that allowed the mirror to stand at the bottom. The mirror itself was almost as high as the ceiling, gleaming and giving off a faint undercurrent of magic. An inscription curled around the top, but Harry couldn’t quite decipher it until Ron muttered, “Oh, it’s backwards.”
“Your heart’s desire? Why would this even exist, what’s the point?” Hermione muttered, staring up at it.
Harry scoffed. “Why do half the things that exist in this world exist? Because someone thought they could make something amazing and wouldn’t stop until it was done.”
“Think about the runework that would have to go into this, the ritual? Mind magic at the very least, scary stuff.” Ron shuddered from where he lingered by the door.
Harry sighed towards the other boy, flickering his eyes towards Hermione, whose eyes had glazed over. “Hermione, no.”
“What identification spells do you think we’d need to know to see the spellwork?”
Harry walked towards where Hermione was inching towards the front of a mirror. “No complicated spellwork or tearing apart magical artifacts until we’re at least third-year, Mione.” He wrapped a hand gently around her right wrist, stilling the twitching of her hand from where she wanted to start taking notes.
Her soft intake stopped him. “Merlin, that’s my heart’s desire?”
Harry glanced back and forth between her and the glass, not really looking towards the mirror. “What is it? What do you see?”
She blinked rapidly, eyes beginning to water. “Oh.” She twisted her hand to hold Harry’s. “It’s us. All three of us.” She paused to look back at Ron, who had moved forward at her words. “But… we’re older. I think I’m… working for the Ministry? And there’s legislation, I’m working on so much…”
Harry wiped away a stray tear. “That sounds like you. Why are you upset?”
She just shook her head. “I’m not upset. I’m eager. Not for the job, not for the change I’ll make… It’s just… we look so happy. You two are standing behind me, not even worried that I’m a ministry official, just comfortable, and acting like we’re equals even with my position… and I’ve never seen us so content. I’ve never seen me so content.”
Harry wraps his arms around her. “We’ll get there, Mione, we’re only five months into school.”
She laughs through the tears. “I know. I just never thought I would have this kind of friendship now, and to think it might be like that in twenty years…”
Ron had made his way up to them, and stood on her other side, adding his lanky arms to the hug. “You’re not getting rid of us. We’re going to be your advisors for when you take over the Ministry, in one way or another.”
Hermione quickly wiped away her tears and then pushed the arms enclosing her away with another laugh. “Okay, someone else go.”
Ron puffed out his chest. “I figured out the inscription, I’ll go next.”
Rolling his eyes, Harry bowed mockingly. “Oh, of course, master genius, go right ahead.”
The redhead pushed them over so he could be in the center of the mirror. “Whoa…”
“Well?” Hermione asked, craning her head over as if she would be able to see his scene and not her own.
“The three of us, with my family. And, blimey, I’m Head Boy! But you two aren’t even looking at the others, just at me.”
Hermione dropped her head on his shoulder, intertwining her fingers with his. “That’s not your heart’s desire, you idiot, that’s the truth. You’re our favorite Weasley, you don’t need to keep worrying about it.”
Ron turned bright red. “Shuddup, you’ve only met the twins and Percy, you don’t even know.”
Harry nudged the girl. “He’s right, apparently Bill is quite the looker, Hermione, with cool scars and an ear piercing and doing dangerous work. You can have him—I get Charlie, who could whisk me away to a dragon preserve so I can live my dream of interacting with more animals than humans daily.”
The two slaps to the back of his head were quick, and he grinned as Ron’s hand stayed to soothe any pain away.
“Your turn, Harry.” Ron pulled them back the other way so Harry was now in the middle of the mirror’s view.
It took Harry a few seconds to realize what he was seeing—the image of the three of them was the same as they were in the room itself, hands tangled together, not knowing whose arm was where, scant space between them. He was confused as to why it was just the three of them, until slowly more figures appeared behind them.
He raised a hand, as if he could reach through the glass and trace the faces looking down proudly at him. “Hi mum, hi da.”
Hermione inhaled sharply, and Ron’s hand shifted to settle at the base of his neck, squeezing.
“I think those must be da’s friends from school, too. Maybe my grandparents? But there’s us, too. Just as we are.” He leaned into Hermione and reached up to grab Ron’s hand. “Hermione with her hair all crazy, escaping that bun that she keeps her wand tucked in, Ron just standing there like a loon.”
They stayed there for a moment, but Harry was the one who pulled them to the door.
“C’mon, I’m cold.” Any sadness from seeing his parents stand behind him for the first time in his life had disappeared, and Harry was grinning.
“Don’t you want to stay with your parents, mate?” Ron asked, keeping his eyes on the mirror.
“Nah, I’ve got photos and stories back in the dorm in front of the fire and next to hot cocoa. And my two best friends, if they’ll hurry up. Plus, I read an interesting ritual from a book I stole from Flick that involves Yule log ash, and I want to try it. C’mon.”
Hermione smiled softly, and Ron picked up the cloak to wrap them up, shoving Harry underneath so they could sneak back to the dungeons.
None of them noticed the Headmaster, under a disillusionment spell, wipe away a tear as he smiled at the new generation that seemed to have more hope than scars.