Holiday Secrets
Mikey and George were huddled behind a tree, grinning mischievously.
“Watch this,” George said. He muttered a spell under his breath. A snowball rose from the snow on the ground, then zoomed around the tree, only to hit Fred right in his face. The Weasley sputtered, wiping snow from his eyes before a second one hit him a moment later.
Mikey and George laughed, and Fred rounded the tree, grinning.
“Truce, truce!” he said as a third snowball hovered above the ground. He rubbed his hands together and said, “What do you say we cause a little ruckus this fine winter afternoon?”
George narrowed his eyes. “What did you have in mind?”
Fred looked at Mikey. “I figured we’d let the rookie decide,” he said. Mikey gasped, offended.
“Rookie? What’chu talking ‘bout, son? They don’t call me Dr. Prankenstein for nothing, you know.”
“Then prove it,” George said, taking his twin’s side and smirking good-naturedly. “Who’s gonna be our target?”
Mikey paused for a moment. “Go big or go home,” he said eventually. “Trust me, bros, you’ll love this.” He put his hand on the trunk of the tree before he paused again and said, “But you might want to hide.”
And then he was gone, having scaled the tree in a matter of seconds and disappearing among the snow-covered branches. The twins exchanged a bewildered look but took Mikey’s advice nonetheless, doing their best to remain as inconspicuous as possible. A moment later a snowball rose from the ground, and Fred and George watched as it flew toward the many students and staff hurrying across the frozen grounds. Unfortunately for Professor Sprout, the snowball hit the side of her face and made her go stumbling sideways. Luckily for her, Hagrid, who had been dragging a fir tree across the grounds, steadied her before she fell. He made a comment—not one any of them could hear from where they hid—and it seemed to keep the Herbology professor in a good mood. She scanned the ground, and though she tried to hide her amusement, it was clear on her face. When she couldn’t find the culprit, she turned back to Hagrid, thanked him, then retreated inside.
Mikey jumped down from the tree, laughing. “Aw, yeah! Dr. Prankenstein strikes again!” He turned back to Fred and George, who looked awestruck. “Well? Was I too much of a rookie?” he asked smugly.
Fred patted his shoulder affectionately. “Welcome to the club, my friend.”
Normally, Raph didn’t mind talking to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They were good kids. But ever since he and his brothers signed Professor McGonagall’s list of students who would be staying at Hogwarts over the winter break, they’d been shooting him odd looks and trying—and failing—to subtly broach the topic. Raph had ignored their attempts for the most part, but that was getting harder and harder to do as the break drew closer.
“I tried to find out who Nicolas Flamel is before I go home tomorrow,” Hermione was saying at the moment as they all walked toward the Gryffindor Tower for the night. Raph sighed, already knowing where the conversation was headed.
“My folks are visiting my older brother Charlie in Romania, so I’m staying here for the break,” Ron said. “I can keep looking.”
“I’ll help you,” Harry added. “I never want to spend another Christmas at the Dursley’s, anyway. Raph,” he said suddenly, turning, “will you be staying for Christmas?”
Raph sighed again. “Yep,” he said as they turned a corner, looking straight ahead. “I’m sure Donnie’ll keep looking, too.”
When he said nothing more, Harry muttered a small, “Oh,” and the four of them walked in silence.
Moments went by, nobody saying anything, and eventually the tense quiet grew too much for Raph to bear.
“Do you want to know why?” he said finally, gritting his teeth.
The others stopped walking and stared at him. “What?” Ron said.
“Do you want to know why my brothers and I are staying at Hogwarts over the break?” Raph repeated, forcing back the immediate regret that followed. He could do this—it was one question.
“We—well, we don’t want to be rude—”
“It was getting painful to watch.”
“Yes,” Harry said. “We would like to know, if it’s alright with you.”
A million different answers ran through Raph’s mind, but none that he could actually tell them. Eventually he decided on the truth—or one version of it, anyway. He shrugged and said, “We have no one to go home to. And don’t give me that crap,” he said to their pitying expressions. “We’re used to it. Besides, we’ve never had a mom, anyway.”
“And a dad?” Harry asked quietly.
“I—” Raph’s throat closed up, and for a second he was back on the roof, leaning against April, and—
Shut up, he told himself, shaking the thoughts away. His eyes hardened. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, sounding angrier than he meant to. Their eyes all widened, and he immediately felt a wave of guilt wash over him at their horrified expressions. “Look, it was a long time ago,” he said, hoping they wouldn’t see through his lie. “It’s fine, really.”
“I’m sorry,” Hermione said. “We didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine,” Raph repeated, though his voice was hoarse. “I was the one who offered to tell you guys, anyway. Don’t sweat it.” He took a shaky breath, blinking away the clouds in his eyes. “Um, I think I dropped something a little ways back. You guys go on ahead.”
Before they could say anything more, he turned on his heel and stalked away, trying to stop his hands from shaking any more than they already had. Why had he brought it up? Why hadn’t he just continued to ignore it, like he’d done from the very beginning? Because they deserve to know, a little voice in his head said. But did they? Raph wasn’t so sure. Why did they deserve to know? Because they’re his friends? Raph didn’t deserve friends. The only friends he’d ever made had died at the hands of the same thing that killed his father, and he and his brothers had left their bodies rotting on the ground before marching to their own deaths, too.
Only it wasn’t really their deaths, was it? Because for some god-forsaken reason they’d all ended up here, in this world, with no one and nothing but themselves and a tiny, forgotten apartment on the outskirts of London. Raph clenched his hand into a fist as tears stung his eyes. He hadn’t realized how long he’d been walking until he stopped and saw that he was nowhere near the Gryffindor Tower.
That’s fine, he thought fiercely, beginning to pace. He’d grab his brothers and get them out of this school, and together they’d find a way home, where his family was. Where Mona Lisa was. Oh, God, I miss Mona, he thought, and he could no longer hold back his tears as his past memories began to overwhelm him—the good, the bad, and everything in between. Their first kiss, the time Mona betrayed him—the day she died.
Raph choked on his tears as they streamed down his face. He wanted to go home—no, he needed to go home.
He stopped his pacing when something caught his attention from the corner of his eye. Angrily wiping the salty tears from his eyes, he made his way over to a door opposite to a strange banner that looked like a man trying to teach trolls ballet. That door hadn’t been there before, had it? No, Raph would have realized, even in the state he’d been in—he still was in, if he was being perfectly honest. Hesitantly, he put his hand on the handle. He knocked softly with the other, and when he didn’t get an answer, he knocked again, harder. When he still got no response, he eased the door open—
And fell to his knees at the sight.
Leo stood outside the Slytherin common room, a pool of dread in his stomach at the thought of having to go in. He thought it had been cold at the beginning of the year, but now that Christmas was approaching, it was even worse. His breath clouded in front of him and his nose felt frozen and numb at times. He refused to take off his cloak or scarf, even when he was nestled under his covers.
Someone slammed into his shoulder as they walked past him, snickering. “Something the matter, Hero ?” Malfoy laughed as he, Crabbe, and Goyle walked up to the wall and opened the secret passage.
Leo clenched his jaw, forcing himself to follow after the boys. It’s just a bit of cold, he told himself as the brisk air hit him once again. His heart pounded in his chest, but he forced his breathing to steady. He felt the glares of his fellow Slytherins on him as soon as he stepped into the common room and did his best to ignore them. He’d been unpopular ever since he’d saved Neville from falling off of his broom in flying class, and his reputation in Slytherin House had only decreased since he and his brothers had befriended Harry and the others. At first, Malfoy’s teasing wasn’t too bad, but as time had gone on, all Leo really wanted to do was punch the brat in his face. But the only person that would impress was Raph, and it would really only make his situation worse—possibly get him expelled. At that—well, it couldn’t happen.
“You know, I do feel bad for Potter,” Malfoy was saying, loudly enough for Leo to hear. “Not having a place to go for Christmas, not having people who care—must be horrid. ”
Leo rolled his eyes. Malfoy had been irritated ever since Slytherin had lost the Quidditch match, so he began insulting Harry’s familial situation. It just so happened that somehow, some way—probably through Mikey and his friends—Malfoy found out that the Hamatos didn’t really have a family, either, so he tried to use his insults to get to Leo, too. It failed, obviously, as Leo really only needed his brothers to be happy, but Malfoy just kept going; he didn’t know when to stop.
Leo tried to make his way to his dormitory, but he was stopped by Crabbe and Goyle. “Going somewhere, Hero ?” Crabbe snarled. Leo sighed at the nickname; Malfoy had gotten nearly every Slytherin to call him that after he’d helped Neville at flying lessons.
Leo tried to sidestep them, but they moved, staying in front of him to block his path.
“Really, Hero, what’s the rush? I just want to chat, that’s all.”
The common room had gone silent. Leo clenched his jaw. He really didn’t want to do this now. But he knew Malfoy wouldn’t let him walk away, and while he knew he could fight his way out, that solution seemed a bit extreme for the current situation.
“Chat about what?” Leo finally said. Malfoy smirked.
“Your cloak,” he said, and Leo tensed, feeling Crabbe and Goyle step closer to him. “C’mon, it’s not that cold in here,” Malfoy continued tauntingly. “Besides, mine’s got a hole in it, and sharing is caring, right?”
“Shove off, Malfoy,” Leo snapped, searching frantically for a way out without escalating the situation.
But he wasn’t quick enough. Goyle grabbed his scarf, somehow managing to take it from Leo before he had the chance to react. The cool air hit his neck, and he lurched for his scarf desperately.
A few Slytherins laughed at his panicked distress, and Malfoy took the opportunity to rip the cloak off of Leo. Leo stumbled, going from the Slytherin common room to a freezing New York day and back again in a matter of seconds.
Breathe, Leo, breathe, he told himself, trying to remember some of the calming exercises he’d learned at the farmhouse. He managed to snap himself back to reality, and as much as he wanted to shove Malfoy’s head in a toilet, he restrained and took a shaky breath.
“I hope you find the cloak comforting,” was all he said before promptly turning. He managed not to sprint to his dormitory, walking steadily as cold seeped into his bones. His hands shook as he drew the curtain around his bed and drew his wand.
“Protego Totalum,” he murmured, a wave of relief washing over him as the shield charm went up around his bed. He had forced both his brothers and himself to start learning defensive charms before they took up combative ones, and Protego Totalum was one of the first he’d learned.
He crawled under the sheets, relishing in the darkness. Why the cold had to be so extreme, he didn’t know, nor did he appreciate it. At all. And, as much as he hated to admit it, Malfoy was right. It wasn’t even that cold. Hell, the sewers in the coldest winters used to be nothing to him, so why was he so bothered by it now?
A memory popped into his head, but he shoved it away. It didn’t matter. That was a lifetime ago, in a completely different world. He shouldn’t be so hung up on it.
It’s not impossible to fall asleep without my cloak and scarf. Leo tried to convince himself of that fact, repeating it over and over in his mind. He’d get them back eventually—he had to get them back, he thought urgently—but he could go one night without them, right?
Right?
Apparently not.
Leo lay awake for hours, listening to his other roommates come in eventually. They must have been too tired to try and pick on Leo, for they crawled into their beds and went to sleep almost immediately. Leo listened to their even breathing, how peaceful they sounded, and tried to ignore the creeping jealousy he felt at how easily they could fall asleep.
It was alright for a few hours more, but eventually Leo groaned, annoyed. He moved his hand to scratch an itch on his leg, and in doing so, knocked the covers loose and accidentally let some of the cold in.
And then he was in a Kraang-infested New York, battling footbot after footbot until Shredder was right behind him, and he turned, and—
Leo threw the covers off and got out of bed, angrily muttering the spell to take down the shield charm. His knee ached at the ghost of the memory, making each step heavier than usual. Still, he crept silently out of his dormitory, shivering against the cold. As he entered the main area of the common room, he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw it was empty.
Leo sat himself in front of the fire and readied himself for yet another sleepless night.
Nicolas Flamel.
The name rang in his head like a bell, taunting him over and over again. Nicolas Flamel.
Donnie groaned, rubbing his tired eyes. Normally he wasn’t the only Ravenclaw up at this time of night, but since it was the night before break and most kids were about to go home for the holidays, the common room was empty.
Maybe I should just go to bed, he thought tiredly. There was no point in working himself to death over this—one way or another, he’d find out. He always did. Donnie only hoped it wouldn’t be in a life-or-death situation, as so many of his realizations seemed to be.
Donnie stood up and stretched, dragging his feet over to the stairway leading to the dormitories. Something caught his eye, and he turned to see the fire dying, slowly fading to nothingness among the coals. For some reason. Donnie couldn’t tear his eyes away from the graying charcoal. They kind of look like rocks, he thought absentmindedly. He stared at the fire a few moments longer before shaking his head and making his way up the stairs. Still, his mind stayed on the fire and the charcoal within, even as he crawled into bed.
Mikey tossed and turned in his bed, unable to sleep. By this time tomorrow, his roommates would be gone for the holidays, and he would have the dormitory to himself. He would be alone.
Mikey frowned and tried to push away the thought. He wouldn’t be alone—he had his brothers! They could hang out a lot over the break, maybe even with Harry and Ron and Hermione. And Fred and George were finally letting him get in on the upper-level mischief—Fred and George had even gotten in trouble earlier that day for bewitching snowballs to follow Professor Quirrell and hit the back of his turban—and a few of his Hufflepuff friends were staying for the holidays, too. He’d be surrounded by people.
So why did he feel so… lonely?
Tears stung his eyes, and he tried to blink them back, but he wasn’t fast enough. They fell silently to his cheeks, and at first he gave a half-hearted attempt to wipe them away with his blanket, but soon gave up. Hogwarts was so big and had so many people, but there were really only three that Mikey truly wanted to hang out with, and he couldn’t. Not really. Sure, Donnie was in his classes, but recently, he’d been rushing to the library more often than not to do some research on Nicolas Flamel. And Raph and Leo—he hardly saw them outside of meals. And training, he supposed, but that didn’t really count. They had to train, if there was a chance that Shredder was back. They were too focused to really have fun, and with everything that had been going on recently, there was no time for the four of them to just… hang out. The last time they’d really done that was…
Mutation Day, Mikey realized, and his breath caught in his throat. They hadn’t had time to be themselves and relax for months.
At least winter break is coming up, a small voice in his head tried to reason. Mikey shook his head. Sure, they had winter break, but then what? Would they have to wait until summertime to be able to spend time with each other again? No, that wouldn’t work—in the summer, Leo had said before they arrived at Hogwarts, they’d have to find some way to earn money. So between that and school and whatever the deal with Shredder and Voldemort was… there’d be virtually nothing.
Why did we even come here? Mikey wondered angrily. He still remembered receiving their letter from Hogwarts, months after waking up in this world. They had all thought it to be a cruel joke until Professor McGonagall knocked on their apartment door—serious but kind—and took them to Diagon Alley to get their school supplies. After that she’d promptly left, leaving them all utterly bewildered. But at least they’d all been together then, Mikey thought, rather than doing whatever it was they were doing now.
Mikey wiped the tears from his eyes, even as more still fell. They hadn’t had the chance to really be children back in New York, being forced too early into the war between Shredder and their father. Four years of their lives, with little—if any—time to have fun and relax before they were killed. And now, even when it seemed like they would be given another chance, they still didn’t have the chance to be themselves, what with Shredder and Voldemort and Hogwarts in general. It seemed like, no matter what universe they were in, the Hamatos were destined to fight and dedicate their lives to others, and never themselves. It’s not fair, Mikey thought, now sobbing silently in his bed.
Mikey stared up at the ceiling, calming himself enough to whisper four words: “I miss my brothers.”
Another tear fell to his pillow.
Nicolas Flamel.
Charcoal.
Rock.
Stone.
Donnie sat straight up in bed.
“I got it!”
The next morning, the four brothers were up bright and early—two from a lack of being able to sleep, and two with a story to tell. There was hardly anyone in the Great Hall when the four of them all met up.
“I have something to tell you,” Raph and Donnie said at the same time while Mikey rubbed his eyes and Leo yawned. Raph and Donnie glared at each other. “No, I have something to tell you! Will you be quiet for once and let me talk?”
Nothing, apparently, was getting solved that morning, because when Raph and Donnie stopped talking, Mikey and Leo yawned.
“Donnie should talk first,” Leo said, while Mikey said, “Raph should talk first.”
“Thank you, Leo,” Donnie said.
“Thank you, Mikey,” Raph said at the same time.
All four of them groaned.
“I know who Nicolas Flamel is,” Donnie said quickly before any of the others could speak.
Three sets of eyes shot to him.
“Okay—cool—more on that in a second,” Raph said, looking intrigued but turning to Leo and Mikey. “Are you going to be alright? You look like you’ve been hit by a bus. And Leo, where’s your cloak?”
“Long night,” was all Leo said. He turned back to Donnie. “What were you saying?”
Donnie opened his mouth to respond, but Raph shushed him.
“What are you, crazy?” he said. “You can’t talk about that in the open, around all these people.”
Donnie looked around the room, empty save for a few staff members at the other end of the hall.
“Should we go to the library, then?” Leo asked.
“Of course not! There’ll be way too many people in there.”
Leo furrowed his brows.
“Then what did you have in mind, Raph?” Mikey asked.
Raph smiled. “Follow me.”
“Why did you bring us up here?” Donnie said as they climbed the stairs to the seventh floor. Raph only shot a grin over his shoulder, his smile so wide it actually made Leo, Mikey, and Donnie shoot each other a concerned look. When was the last time they’d seen Raph this excited about anything?
Raph paused for a moment, furrowing his brows before turning a corner and walking up to a tapestry on the wall. “Here.”
“Barnabas the Barmy,” Donnie said flatly, looking at the tapestry in confusion. “You brought us here to see a man trying to teach trolls ballet?”
Mikey laughed. “Dude, that’s amazing. How’d it go?”
“We have bigger things to worry about, Mikey,” Leo said, crossing his arms. He looked two seconds away from collapsing on the spot. “Donnie couldn’t have told us about Flamel in the Great Hall… why? How is this any better?”
“I'm trying to show you,” Raph said. “But first, I knew that’s what that was!” He patted the tapestry jokingly before turning around and scanning the hall. “Just… give me a minute.”
They were all quiet for a moment as Raph stood silently. Suddenly his eyes lit up, and he started walking back and forth. After the third pass, a door emerged from seemingly nowhere.
Donnie sucked in a small breath. “The Room of Requirement,” he murmured softly; he remembered reading about it one time. Raph shot him a knowing look as he opened the door and let his brothers in. Once they crossed the threshold, they all stopped in awe.
“Raph… what is this?” Leo asked, eyes wide.
The room was dim, its stone walls bare. But there were carpets on the floor and mats stacked in a corner and a—
“No way!” Mikey said, running over to a pinball machine off to the side of the room. “Is that—”
“Space Heroes?” Leo hardly dared to believe it, running his hand gingerly over the surface of the machine.
Donnie remained motionless, taking in the room as he struggled to wrap his mind around what was happening.
“This is the old lair,” he said, almost in shock.
Raph clasped Donnie’s shoulder. “This is home, brother.”
Donnie shot Raph a grateful look as Leo cleared his throat.
“This is… amazing, Raph,” he said breathlessly, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “But Donnie, Nicolas Flamel?”
“Oh! Right, of course.” Donnie cleared his throat. “Short version: Nicolas Flamel was a sorcerer. His most famous creation is the Sorcerer’s Stone, which grants—”
“No, wait,” Mikey said, plopping down on a beanbag that he managed to find. “Let me guess… immortality?”
“Yea—how did you know that?”
The youngest shrugged. “It seemed like the most obvious choice.”
“So Snape—or whoever is trying to get past the dog and kill Harry—is going after the Stone?” Raph said.
“It would seem so, Donnie said as Leo eased himself onto the couch. “Do we tell Harry and the others?”
“No,” Leo said, yawning. He rested his head on the arm of the couch. “They shouldn’t have to worry about that. Besides, something tells me they’ll figure it out soon enough.”
Before anyone could argue, Leo was snoring, a slight smile plastered on his face.
His three brothers looked at each other and shrugged.
Later that day, they bid goodbye to Hermione, who was off to visit her parents for the holidays.
“You will keep looking while I’m away, won’t you?” asked Hermione. The brothers stayed silent as Harry and Ron nodded. “And send me an owl if you find anything.”
“And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is,” Ron said. “It’d be safe to ask them.”
“Very safe, as they’re both dentists,” Hermione replied. She took a step back, hugging a book to her chest. “Well, I’m off. See you guys after break!”
“Bye, Hermione,” Leo said as the others all waved. “Enjoy your break.”
“See ya,” Raph said with a slight smile.
“Don’t forget to keep up with your studies,” Donnie said lightly. Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes.
“Of course not.”
Mikey walked up to Hermione and gave her a hug. “Stay safe, dudette.”
Hermione laughed. “Bye, guys!” she said as she left for the Hogwarts Express.
Ron turned to Harry and the Hamato brothers.
“What’s a dentist?”
Raph snorted.
It would seem that the Hamatos wouldn’t have to worry about Harry, Ron, and Hermione stressing over Nicolas Flamel, because once the holidays had started, Harry and Ron were having too good a time to think much about the sorcerer. Raph often saw them sitting in the good armchairs by the fire, talking about ways they could get Malfoy expelled (Raph knew they weren’t serious, and even chimed in once or twice to offer suggestions).
Raph and his brothers typically spent most of their time in the Room of Requirement. When they weren’t relaxing, they were training. They pulled the mats out and practiced spells and charms on each other—nothing that would hurt them too much, but that would help them defend themselves, should something come up.
One day, as they all entered the Room of Requirement (making sure no one was watching them, of course), they were shocked to see a few new additions to the room: for one, their old training dummy hung from a little hook off to the left of the room; there were a few new suits of armor around the room, as well, and they all decided immediately that they would be using their charms against those instead of each other; and finally—much to everyone’s delight—their weapons sat waiting for them on the table.
All four of them rushed to grab their respective weapons, each of them smiling from ear to ear.
“Aw, yeah, baby! Mikey’s back!” the youngest shouted, waving his nunchucks around with skilled precision.
Donnie twirled his bo staff around in the air, pouting slightly when it fell to the ground. As he picked it up, he said with a frown, “I guess I can’t do my cool spin-over-the-back trick without my shell.”
Raph spun his sais around his fingers, grinning maniacally. “Now we’re talking,” he said.
Leo took his katanas in his hands, the familiar feeling of the hilts in his hand sending a wave of relief over him. He looked around and saw three sheaths under the table: two for his katanas and one for Donnie’s bo staff. They’d have to find some other ways for Mikey and Raph to carry their weapons around, not to mention the fact that they’d have to be hidden almost twenty-four-seven, but just the fact that they had their weapons made him feel infinitely better about being in this world. If he’d had two constants in his old life, they’d be his brothers and his katanas. He’d gotten through this one with his brothers, but now that he had his swords—
Leo matched Raph’s grin.
“Guys, I think we can officially say we’re ninjas again.”
Raph awoke around the same time Ron and Harry did on Christmas morning.
“Merry Christmas,” Ron said sleepily to them as Harry scrambled out of bed and pulled on his bathrobe.
“You, too,” said Harry. “Will you look at this? I’ve got some presents!”
“What did you expect, turnips?” said Ron. Raph chuckled as the boys turned to the piles of presents at the edge of their beds; Ron’s was significantly bigger than Harry’s, but neither boy seemed to notice, happily tearing into their presents.
Raph looked at the edge of his bed and was surprised to see a small pile of presents waiting for him, too.
“We got you a few things,” Harry said sheepishly as Ron caught sight of a few of the presents. He frowned.
“It looks like my mum’s been busy,” he said, looking at identical packages at the edge of both his and Harry’s beds. “I told her you guys weren’t really expecting presents and—oh, no,” he groaned as Harry opened his present. “She’s made you all Weasley sweaters.”
Harry looked down to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of homemade fudge. Raph opened his to see both the sweater and the homemade fudge, but his sweater was a dark red with an electric green R on the front.
“Every year she makes us a sweater,” Ron said, unwrapping his own, “and mine’s always maroon.”
“That’s really nice of her,” Harry said.
“Tell her I said thank you,” Raph added, throwing it on. He got up and stretched, subtly grabbing his sais from under his pillow and tucking them underneath the sweater.
“Where are you going?” Ron asked.
“My brothers and I promised each other we’d meet up in the Great Hall.”
“Alright, then,” Ron said. “See you later.”
“Happy Christmas,” Harry said.
“Merry Christmas,” Raph corrected as he stepped out of the dorm. “Not… whatever that British version is.” He laughed at their disgusted expressions. “I’m only kidding. Don’t get into trouble.”
A few minutes later, he was in the Great Hall, taking a bite out of a pastry while he waited for his brothers to arrive. Mikey got there next, walking up to him and smiling.
“I see Mrs. Weasley sent you something, too,” Raph said, taking note of the orange sweater.
Mikey’s eyes widened. “That’s who sent this?” he asked, looking down at it happily. “I thought it was something all students got if they stayed home.”
Raph rolled his eyes and shook his head fondly as Leo walked up to them, sporting his own blue sweater. He took one look at Raph and Mikey and sighed.
“It would seem we have someone to thank,” he said.
“Too bad we’ve never met her,” Raph said.
“Met who?”
They all turned to see Donnie, looking very comfortable in his dark purple sweater. He held up his hand before any of them could respond. “Right now, I don’t wanna know.”
Mikey wrapped his arms around Leo and Donnie’s shoulders. “Merry Christmas, dudes.”
It would seem that the Room of Requirement held one more surprise for them. As they stepped into the room, fully intending to gorge themselves on the homemade fudge Mrs. Weasley had sent, they all paused at the new addition to their lair.
The shrine was back.
They all tentatively approached, looking at the pictures of Splinter and Tang Shen and baby Karai—Miwa—with tears glistening in their eyes. Each of them bowed twice—once, to honor their lost sensei, and a second time, to honor their lost lives.
That year was a bittersweet Christmas, but at least they were all together.
Mikey smiled slightly at the thought.