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Flames will be used to roast marshmallows, which will feed my fluff bunnies.

Harri crept smoothly, silently, off the steps and into the Slytherin Common Room. Tom's head didn't turn from the armchair gazing into the fireplace. She walked slowly forward, rolling on the balls of her feet, not wanting to disturb the quiet. She reached the side of the boy she had treated so hatefully, who, maybe, just maybe, wasn't the person she thought he was. Lifting her burden she placed the tiny dragon on his shoulder, silently bidding her companion Azdelain farewell. She drew back, and whispered, so that it would not provoke a reaction, so she would not have to explain, whispered "Happy Christmas Tom." As she left the room she thought maybe, just maybe, this was what she had been brought back to see.

HPTMRHPTMRHPTMRHPTMR

As the prophecy was fulfilled, Harri entered a similar state of quiet. "I'm sorry." she whispered as a jet of green light left her wand to end the life of Tom Marvolo Riddle. And in his last moments, Tom's life did not flash before his eyes, except for one moment. He remembered a Christmas Eve sixty years ago, and a miniature Hungarian Horntail offered in lieu of an apology. He remembered acceptance as someone saw him for what he was. There wasn't smile on his face as he died. Some things are too strange and alien for smiles. But he was peaceful, and it was enough.