Hours turned into days that turned into weeks and soon light dustings of snow started to fall during the night and blanket the castle grounds in sparkling crystals. Christmas was right around the corner and one afternoon, after a particularly frustrating Transfiguration lesson, McGonagall made an announcement before the end of class.
"All students leaving for the holidays are to ensure they are packed and ready to go no later than noon on December third," she said, "any students who wish to remain here must inform me by the end of the week. Your homework is to practice the vanishing spell for next week."
Allison, who had managed to avoid any questions since her release from the hospital wing, felt a sense of giddiness in her chest, a swelling balloon that filled her with joy. Ron had a received a letter from his mom several days ago asking if Allison, Harry, and Hermione were keen on visiting for the holidays. Allison didn't need to be asked twice and jumped at the opportunity. The idea of a Christmas surrounded with the Weasley's was better than anything she could have imagined.
"And Miss Bray?" McGonagall was watching her, "a word, please?"
"I'll meet you in the Great Hall for lunch," Allison said to her friends as they hung back by the door.
"I hear you're going to Molly Weasley's for the holiday?" McGonagall asked.
"Yeah, figured it would be good to get away for a bit," Allison said.
"Sit down," McGonagall said suddenly, though softly.
Allison sat slowly, her heart suddenly in her throat. Why did she have a feeling that the next ten minutes were going to be uncomfortable?
"I haven't had a chance to speak with you since your visit to the hospital wing and now that you will be leaving for a short period, I must be sure you're going to be safe," she paused, "I've written Molly a letter explaining the situation."
"Situation?" Allison repeated, her mouth very dry.
"Allison," it was the first time McGonagall had used Allison's first name and it made her even more nervous, "Madam Pomfrey approached me the day after your admission to the hospital wing, she's concerned for your well being, as am I."
"I'm fine," Allison said sharply.
The sudden attention and concern for her 'well being' was infuriating. Where were the professors and their concern when she was being verbally abused at home? Where were the professors when Allison's parents wrote to them explaining they no longer wanted their child in their presence? Where were the professors when her life started to fall apart? And now they care, now that they've seen what their ignorance has resulted in. Allison curled her hands into fists to try and stop them from shaking.
"No, you're not," McGonagall said and Allison knew she was trying to keep her voice calm and steady. "Our student's safety is of the upmost importance and what you're doing, it could kill you. I'm not going to ask you to stop, Allison, but I want to know why."
"Why?" Allison repeated, her anger starting to take over "You really can't figure it out? Why wouldn't I? My parent's don't want anything to do with their freak of a fucking daughter. They hate me. They wish I was dead. I can't do anything right in this fucking place," she was yelling now, her voice ringing through the empty classroom. "I'm a disgrace and I don't deserve anything I have and if I have to cut out what makes me a failure I'll fucking do it until I die."
The loudest silence Allison had ever heard followed her words and she sat and stared at McGonagall, who stared back, for what felt like hours. Allison knew she shouldn't have yelled, much less swear, at her professor, but all the rage and guilt and shame over the last many years was too much to control. Allison felt a lump in her throat and the corners of her eyes started to burn and well up.
"Molly," McGonagall said as she handed Allison a handkerchief, "is more than happy to have you spend all holidays and summer breaks with her and her family. She wants you to be happy, Allison, as do I. From now on, I want you to come see me after every lesson."
"What for?" Allison asked, rolling the handkerchief around in her hands.
"To talk," McGonagall said simply.
"So, what, a therapy session?"
"I'm not asking you, Miss. Bray," there was an air of authority in McGonagall's tone that told Allison she had no choice in the matter.
Allison sighed, "Okay, fine. Can I go for lunch now?"
McGonagall nodded. Thankful, Allison got to her feet and as she neared the door, McGonagall said, "one more thing, Miss. Bray. I've been teaching at this school for a very long time and if there's one thing I know, you are not a failure."
Allison didn't go to see her Head of House the following week. Instead, she used the bustle of the approaching holidays as an excuse to "forget" and she hurried from Transfiguration lessons as fast as possible, pushing herself into the throngs of hungry students. Before long, classes were over and Allison was standing on the Hogwarts Express platform, trunk packed and her friends surrounding her.
"Ah, mom's cooking is always the best," Ron said, running a hand over his stomach. "You're gonna love it, Al."
It was Allison's first time visiting the Burrow and she felt small butterflies circling inside her gut. She had met the Weasley's on several occasions but now that Mrs. Weasley was in on Allison's dirty little secret, Allison was nervous to see her again. What if she tried to talk to her about it? What if she demanded that Allison give up her tools or go back to school? What if she told the rest of her family and they were planning some kind of intervention?
"You okay?" Hermione asked, as the scarlet train appeared in the far distance, plumes of smoke billowing out into the cold winter air.
"Yeah, I'm okay," Allison replied several moments later, as the train slowed into the platform.
As Allison followed her friends onto the train, she slipped her hand into the pocket of her jeans and felt the coolness of the blade. It offered enough comfort to calm the queasiness that was brewing in Allison's stomach and allowed her to sit by the window and enjoy the ride back to King's Cross and dream about Christmas at the Burrow.