The early fall turned to winter in the blink of an eye. It was already about time for Christmas break. The Potter children were currently packing in their dormitories. The train would be taking them back the next day.
Ginny and Harry were in their house. Harry had collapsed on the couch after a long hard day with the Ministry. He had been spending several weeks searching for Fenrir Greyback. He had escaped from the aurors and was recruiting more werewolves. The hard part of Harry's task was not only no sightings within weeks, but no one had been attacked. This was especially odd. Harry remembered with great discomfort of how the horrid being enjoyed biting, clawing and even killing innocent people. He especially loved targeting children. Now that he willingly attacks without the aid of the full moon, he became more dangerous.
"Any luck?" Ginny asked as she walked into the living room.
"None," Harry growled. "Not a clue. What is he planning? This isn't like him. There hasn't been a reported attack since he escaped."
Ginny frowned, worried.
"Maybe he's gotten so old that it's slowed him down," she offered.
"You wouldn't say that if you were the one who brought him in," Harry commented through gritted teeth.
Ginny sighed. After a moment, she got up to make her and her husband dinner. Harry ate gratefully. Ginny's gaze swept the walls of the house.
"I just realized, we haven't put up any Christmas decorations."
Harry looked up and swallowed his pasta.
"We've both been so busy. Who has the energy to decorate after we get off," he chuckled. "I'll start tomorrow morning while you grab the kids."
"You're not coming?" she asked. "We were planning on making a trip to Diagon Alley."
"It's okay," Harry sighed. "I'll surprise them when they get back. I'd like to brighten up the house a bit after the days I've had." He smiled and returned to his plate.
Harry was being perfectly honest in wanting to set up for Christmas, but there was another thing on his mind that made him hesitant on going to Kings Cross. Albus hadn't written back this year. Neither of them had spoken since the argument they had before term started. He had tried to bury the hatchet with the blanket, but his heart gave a painful throb when he thought of what he said about it. Moldy Blanket. It didn't help Harry's search for Greyback when he would have random flashbacks of Albus saying he didn't want Harry as a father. He kept telling himself that he should just forget it, since it happened so long ago… but his own son… it hurt more than Harry let on.