Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Warnings: Rated K+ for two instances of light language.

Takes place on Christmas during OotP.

Hot Chocolate and Blibbering Humdingers

Anthony Goldstein wandered the halls aimlessly. It was past curfew, but given that he had decided to remain in the castle over the holidays he doubted anyone would mind. Was it even a rule that curfew was to be maintained over break?

He doubted anyone in their right mind would care, especially on Christmas; even McGonagall had grown increasingly lax in her punishments this year, likely in response to Umbridge's appointment as "High Inquisitor."

Anthony shivered. No one else in the castle seemed to grasp the true history of the title, although when it had come up during a DA meeting he thought he might have caught Hermione Granger shooting him a concerned look. Probably because of his bloody last name.

He didn't hate his surname. Just the connotations that came with it, which were usually picked up on by Malfoy and his crowd.

Either way, it was lonely in the castle over the holidays. He usually went home over the break, but his parents were away on business so there was no use in going home to sit by himself. At least, that's what his logic had been when he'd made the decision. But now, knowing that in a few hours his friends would be waking up to piles of presents.

The Christmas feast had been good, but he'd felt out of place, the only one who wasn't celebrating anything in particular. Michael Corner had jokingly called it a Hanukkah feast, and wasn't he getting presents anyway, but Hanukkah was over weeks ago and he didn't get presents anymore now that he was fifteen and too old for traditions brought on by 'commercialism.' Even in his childhood, Hanukkah had always been the sort of holiday where he'd get a pair of gloves or a book only to be told he was 'just as good' as his friends who received piles of gifts from Santa.

Anthony rounded a corner and jumped to avoid running head-on into a girl.

"'Lo, Luna." Luna Lovegood was in his house, yet he had never really spoken to her until DA meetings began, and even then their conversations mostly revolved around mundane things (at least, as mundane as conversations with Luna ever were).

"We don't have a DA meeting today," she said, and Anthony realized that he had unknowingly made his way to the Room of Requirement.

"I know, Luna," he said. "I was just thinking."

"So was I," she said, her voice as airy as ever, but Anthony took the fact that she wasn't prattling on about heffalumps and woozles to mean that something was up.

"Are you okay?"

She looked up. "Oh yes, I'm quite alright. I was worried earlier this week that there might have been a few nargles up there" – she tapped her head, as though Anthony had any remote idea what the hell a nargle was – "but I think I've cleared them out by now."

But there was a strange… tone to her words that prompted Anthony to ask, "No, Luna, not the – the nargles. I meant, are you okay?"

She seemed legitimately surprised that he would ask.

"I was just on the way to the Room of Requirement for hot chocolate. It's something I used to do with my mum every Christmas. Do you want to come in?"

That was definitely not an answer to Anthony's question, but he let it slide.

"Is she at home, then?" he asked.

"Oh, she's dead." Luna said it off-handedly, but Anthony still felt horrible.

"I'm sorry," he started, "I didn't mean—"

"Do you want hot chocolate?" she interrupted, and even though she's speaking with the same breezy tone he can tell that she's very obviously trying to change the subject.

"I – sure," he agreed, following Luna into the Room of Requirement. It looked different now than it did during DA meetings: it was round, for one, and filled with such bright colors Anthony had to blink a few times to let his eyes adjust. An odd assortment of knickknacks he couldn't even begin to name filled the walls. And there was a table, set with two hot mugs of cocoa.

"Do you miss her?" Anthony couldn't help but ask.

"Sometimes I get very sad," Luna admitted. "She died when I was nine, you know."

"I'm sorry," Anthony said again.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," she said. Anthony couldn't for the life of him understand how she could be so calm, talking about her own dead mother.

They sat in silence for a while. Anthony sipped his hot chocolate and promptly burned his tongue; Luna had pulled a peppermint stick out of her pocket and was swirling it around the hot chocolate.

She caught his inquisitive look. "Peppermint wards off the blibbering humdingers," she said.

"Er, okay."

Then Luna snorted. "I'm completely having you on. I just like the way it tastes. And everyone knows that blibbering humdingers are very rare. You wouldn't want to do anything to scare them off."

Only Luna could make a joke about complete nonsense like that. Anthony smiled.

"She died on Christmas, you know. My mum." Before he could respond, she continued, "I was nine. But Christmas is always so sad at home now."

"That's horrible."

"Well," Luna said, pausing to take a long drink of hot chocolate, "I suppose so. But I've still got my dad. He's off doing research for an article on the Crumple-Horned Snorkack, you see. Otherwise we'd be remembering her together."

She said it all with a level of matter-of-factness, as though it was the most ordinary thing in the world to have your father away on business (even if it was for The Quibbler) on the very same day you were mourning your dead mother.

Eventually they both finished their mugs.

"Well, I hope you're having a merry Christmas," Luna said.

"I don't celebrate—" He stopped himself. He usually just let the 'merry Christmases' slide, anyway.

"Then just be merry," she said, standing to leave. "Thanks for cheering me up."

Anthony stood with her. "I didn't do anything."

"You stayed," she said nonchalantly. "Most people wouldn't. They don't like when I talk about nargles, you see." Then she added, almost as an afterthought, "I don't think they know that I know that."

Anthony wasn't sure what made him ask it, but he did.

"Are you heading back to Ravenclaw Tower now?"

Luna nodded.

"I'll walk you back. As long as you keep the nargles away."

A/N: After Keeping Up Impressions, I felt I needed some lighter fare, and it still came out angsty. Hmm.

Anyway, this is for chewinggumandpencils's "Hot Chocolate Competition/Challenge" over on the HPFC forum.

Also, please let me know how I did with Anthony and Luna. Granted, Anthony can't really be OOC since he's never really mentioned in canon beyond his name being thrown about occasionally, but I always found it sort of interesting that he's a Jewish (at least, according to his surname) character in a school that places such high interest (though not necessarily religious) in Christmas and the like. And of course, it's pretty difficult to get inside Luna's head, but I tried.

"Heffalumps and Woozles" belong to Winnie the Pooh x