Disclaimer; I DO NOT own the characters/places/spells/things/etc. I only own the plotlines in which the story takes place (as long as it wasn't in the books/films!) JK Rowling owns the more-than-spectacular everything-else!

Back in the common room, Harry sat in front of the fireplace, listening to the snow blowing against the windows. Only a few students had remained at the school during the holidays. Ron and Hermione had pleaded with him to go to the Burrow, but Harry hadn't been able to bring himself to join, though even Hermione's parents were attending the festivities. Looking around the empty dormitory almost made him wish he'd taken his best friends up on the offer.

His curiosity got the best of him, and he went to retrieve his trusty Marauder's Map from his trunk. He saw a total of sixteen students still in the castle: four Ravenclaws, five Hufflepuffs, three Slytherins, and four Gryffindors. Unfortunately for him, the younger ones of his House were in Hogsmeade with Hagrid, leaving him to his own. Harry glanced down at the map again; he quickly found the Slytherin common room. There he was, his footsteps on the map pacing 'round and 'round.

A loud thud at the windows jerked him from his task. He glanced up and saw Errol jumping onto the sill Harry rushed to let the owl into the warm room. Tied to his leg was a scroll of parchment. Harry pulled it off, hastily opened it, and grinned impulsively at Ron's familiar scrawl.

Harry –

How's everything? Mum's pretty upset that you didn't come for the holidays. She doesn't see why you chose to stay behind when no one's there. Fred and George haven't left each other's side…

Listen, mate, please come by. It'll make Mum and Dad happy. And don't say you don't want to make it awkward on Ginny – she's pretty much past everything. Believe me.

-Ron

P.S. Hermione will be writing, too, and sending you our presents. Errol wasn't exactly reliable enough, and Pig, well… Pig's Pig. Sorry!

With a small chuckle, Harry grabbed a quill and a slip of parchment. Errol took flight toward the Owlery as Harry began writing.

Ron –

Everything's going swell here. It's so weird, though, with everything so quiet. Tell Fred and George I said hello. Have they talked about what you told them?

I'm not worried about make Ginny feel awkward. I just don't care to meet her new boyfriend, and I know he's there.

Happy Christmas, Ron. Send your family my best wishes.

-Harry

He set the quill down and through about the twins. Pure astonishment had covered Fred's face when Harry and Luna had told him he'd died but that she'd essentially brought him back from the dead in a way. Fred had thought is was cool in a slightly morbid, depressing sort, but George hadn't taken the news as well. He'd gone off on his own for nearly nine hours, claiming he needed time to clear his head. When'd finally come back, his demeanour was completely different – he'd accepted that he'd lost his brother, but at least he had his partner-in-crime back now. Everyone had agreed telling Molly and Arthur wasn't a brilliant idea, and so the six of them – the twins, Luna, Hermione, Ron, and Harry – had been keeping the secret since.

..

Harry was startled out of his thoughts by a coughing sort of noise from the fireplace. He glanced up and nearly shouted in fright. There, amidst the ashes and newly lit coals, was a head.

"Happy Christmas, Harry!"

"Professor Lupin, what are you doing here?"

"I promise Molly I'd check in on you. She's worried about."

"Yea, Ron said so in his letter. How are you and Tonks? And Teddy?"

"Everyone's fine, thanks. How are you doing? And don't lie."

"I'm doing alright. It's kind of lonely, though, but it's fine."

"Tell the truth. Why didn't you go to the Weasleys for Christmas?"

"I…I don't know."

Lupin's face creased with concern. "Harry, what is it you're not telling me?"

"Nothing, I promise."

"Alright, then, if you're sure… I'd best be getting back to the family."

"Merry Christmas."

Once the flames died down to their normal size, Harry trudged up the stairs to the dormitory to grab his Firebolt. Lupin's questions had caused his mind to explode into overdrive. Even he didn't know his own reason for staying behind…

He breathed in the smell of fresh fallen snow, crisp winter air, and smoke coming from the chimneys. He mounted his broomstick and kicked off the frozen ground. The cold air stung his eyes, yet he increased his pace. There was a sudden rush of liberation as he flew above the Astronomy tower and over the Forbidden Forest. In an instant, he remembered what had always been his favourite part of flying: the sensation of complete freedom. He halted in mid-air, high above the grounds, and stared around. The shimmering lake reflected the light of the setting sun; his eyes caught the movement of a figure walking toward the Quidditch pitch. Harry couldn't possibly mistake the lean body, pale skin, or flash of blonde hair, even from his perch in the sky, for anybody else.

Draco looked shocked when Harry landed beside him. "What are you doing here, Potter?"

"I go to school here."

"I meant here, on the pitch."

"I felt like going for a little fly, but I could ask you the same thing, Malfoy."

"Just decided to go for a walk."

"Isn't your mum expecting you home for the holidays?"

"That's none of your business."

Harry took the hint, shouldered his broom, and headed back to the castle. He could feel Draco's eyes still trained on his back. In the Entrance Hall stood Nearly Headless Nick, Professor McGonagall, and Filch. Apparently, Peeves was up to his old tricks when it came to pranking the students – if Filch's face was any indication. Harry tried skirting around them; however, McGonagall saw him before he could evade them entirely.

"Argus, please fill the Bloody Baron I on what Peeves had done. He'll sort everything out. Thank you, both of you, for bringing this to my attention. Now, if you'll both excuse me. Potter!"

"Professor?"

"Come with me."

She led him to her office and motioned for him to have a seat. "Molly Weasley sent me an owl this morning, imploring me to, as she said, make you see reason and go there for the holidays."

"I figured she would. She had Ron write me as well."

"Do you want to stay here at the school?"

"I thought I did."

"Potter, this is absolutely your decision. If you want to go or stay, all you have to do is to say so either way."

"So if I say yes…?"

"Then I can arrange a Portkey."

"Sorry, Professor, but I'm not entirely comfortable with Portkeys."

"Then Floo Network will have to suffice. I'll send your belongings to the Burrow for you."

"Thank you."

Harry stepped into the fireplace and, right before he dropped the powder, saw the portrait of Albus Dumbledore wink with a small smile, those blue eyes twinkling over the familiar half-moon spectacles.