~3rd person pov~
Dear Harry,
I know we haven't said much to each other other than hi, but Merry Christmas. A few weeks ago, my father sent me a notebook that belonged to his uncle - your grandfather. He thought it would make a wonderful Christmas present for you since you didn't get to know your family. It has a lot of stories about your father as a child and what it was like to him.
I hope you enjoy your first Christmas with your Hogwarts family.
Yours Truly,
Anaia Q. Potter
Harry reread the note, making sure his eyes were working properly. He slowly picked up the notebook and leafed through the pages, taking in the smell of ink and paper. Tearing up, he quickly put the book down, hoping Ron didn't see him momentarily break down inside.
Only one parcel left. Harry picked it up and felt it. It was very light. He unwrapped it.
Something fluid and silvery gray went slithering to the floor where it lay in gleaming folds. Ron gasped.
"I've heard of those," he said in a hushed voice, dropping the box of Every Flavor Beans he'd gotten from Hermione. "If that's what I think it is - they're really rare, and really valuable."
"What is it?"
Harry picked the shining, silvery cloth off the floor. It was strange to the touch, like water woven into material.
"It's an invisibility cloak," said Ron, a look of awe on his face. "I'm sure it is - try it on."
Harry threw the cloak around his shoulder and Ron gave a yell.
"It is! Look down!"
Harry looked down at his feet, but they were gone. He dashed to the mirror. Sure enough, his reflection looked back at him, just his head suspended in midair, his body completely invisible.
"There's a note!" said Ron suddenly. "A note fell out of it!"
Harry pulled off the cloak and seized the letter. Written in narrow, loopy writing he had never seen before were the following words:
Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well.
A very merry Christmas to you.
There was no signature. Harry stared at the note. Two Christmas presents that related to his father. He couldn't believe it. Ron was busy admiring the cloak.
"I'd give anything for one of these," he said. "Anything. What's the matter?"
"Nothing," said Harry. He felt very strange. Who had sent the cloak? Had it really once belonged to his father?
Before he could say or think anything else, the dormitory door was flung open and Fred and George Weasley bounded in. Harry stuffed the cloak quickly out of sight while Anaia took the opportunity to sneak back downstairs before anyone noticed she was there.
"Merry Christmas!"
"Hey, look - Harry's got a Weasley sweater, too!"
Fred and George were wearing blue sweaters, one with a large yellow F on it, the other a G.
"Harry's is better than ours, though," said Fred, holding up Harry's sweater. "She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not in the family."
"Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?" George demanded. "Come on, get it on, they're lovely and warm."
"I hate maroon," Ron moaned halfheartedly as he pulled it over his head.
"You haven't got a letter on yours," George observed. "I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid - we know we're called Gred and Forge."
"What's all this noise?"
Percy Weasley stuck his head through the door, looking disapproving. He had clearly gotten halfway through unwrapping his presents as he, too, carried a lumpy sweater over his arm, which Fred seized.
"P for prefect! Get it on, Percy, come on, we're all wearing ours, even Harry got one."
"I - don't - want -" said Percy thickly, as the twins forced the sweater over his head, knocking his glasses off.
"We're going to spend the day all together," said George. "Christmas is a time for family."
They frog-marched Percy from the room, his arms pinned to his side by his sweater.
Christmas at Hogwarts was one of the most beautiful things on the planet. Harry had invited Anaia to sit at the Gryffindor table and enjoy the festivities. When Harry finally left the table, he was laden down with a stack of things out of the crackers, including a pack of non-explodable, luminous balloons, a Grow-Your-Own-Warts kit, and his own new wizard chess set.
Harry, Anaia, and the Weasleys spent a happy afternoon having a furious snowball fight on the grounds. Then, cold, wet, and gasping for breath, they returned to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, while Anaia ventured off to do other things.
~Anaia's POV~
After the snowball fight, which was tons of fun, the Gryffindors went back to their common room. I just sorta left because I didn't want to overstay my welcome. It would be awkward to be the only Slytherin in the Gryffindor tower.
So after they disappeared around the corner, I sprinted back to my common room to change into something less wet. I chose a simple collared black dress with a Christmas sweater over it and my black combat boots. I grabbed my celestial bronze kopis and headed back upstairs. I'm training in a dress because if some monster attacks me, I can't be inconvenienced by what I'm wearing. My outfit will not be the cause of my death. That's lame.
'Ah. Nothing like a vacation to put you in the mood for training.'
After about an hour of that, I headed to the library to find a new book to read. I had finished my last one during my hibernation and needed to get one before Harry remembered that he was supposed to be researching. Hermione never directly told me what they were researching but I figured it out from all the little hints she unknowingly dropped.
I ate dinner with the Gryffindors and I shit you not, it was amazing. I don't understand why more people don't stay here over break. After dinner, I went back to hibernating in the middle of my common room. I'm gonna hate having to sleep in my bed when everyone gets back.
Over the next couple of days, Harry was acting kinda weird. I don't know him that well but him not eating much seemed a little odd. The snow had been piling up outside so I couldn't train much. I stopped going to the Great Hall and just had the elves bring me food as I waited for the break to come to an end.
When everyone had finally come back, Hermione asked me to help her look for some guy named Nicolas Flamel. Apparently, that's what the boys were supposed to be researching and they were having trouble finding anything.
After a bit of researching on my own, I was about ready to quit. Just as I was about to grab another book, Hermione came flying into the library with a large book.
"I - found - him!" She said out of breath. She shoved a book towards me and pointed to a part she had marked.
"The Sorcerer's Stone? I thought that was a myth," I ask, lifting my eyebrow.
"You've heard of it?"
"Father used to tell stories when I was little. I'm just now starting to realize those stories might have been about actual things in the wizarding world."
As the next quidditch game neared, it was getting blatantly obvious that Harry was freaking out. The poor thing thought Snape was going to kill him based off what Hermione was telling me. Sure, the bat was a biased jerk towards the Gryffindors, but I doubt he hated Harry enough to kill him. I have no doubt that he'll be really unfair though.
For this match, I didn't even bother trying to sit in the stands this time. It was too loud and annoying to sit with other children. Draco decided to sit behind the Ron and Hermione. I'm sure that'll end wonderfully. The game was over before I realized it had actually started. Harry had broken some kind of record for the fastest quidditch game. Snape was furious and apparently, Neville and Ron had gotten in a fight with Draco. I would've paid big money to see that.
Some time later, when Hermione and I were in the library doing homework with the boys, they told me what Harry had seen in the forest.
"It was Snape and he was trying to get Quirrell to tell him something about what's protecting the Stone."
I can see why they think that Snape's trying to steal the stone but I'm not so sure and I'd rather not add unnecessary opinions. This is already a mess without me contradicting them.
"Ok, so what does it that mean?" I ask while pulling out the pens father sent me for Christmas. I hate using quills. They're so inconvenient, like who decided that quills and parchment out of all things were necessary for a wizard school.
"The Stone's only safe for as long as Quirrell can stand up to Snape."
A. N. - This chapter is soooo short. I'm really disappointed in myself for it but the show must go on. Chapters will be posted no matter how disappointing they are.
