This time I finished two chapters at once (it was originally gonna be one chapter but it was just too long)! So chapter 11 and 12 are gonna be side by side updates! Yay! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter; it was really fun writing it! :D

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, but I wish I did :(

Chapter 11
Christmas

When the holidays came and almost everyone in the castle up and left, I was left with the girls' dormitory for myself. It was nice not been forced to listen to the girly gossip followed by giggles that usually came from Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil's mouths. However, without Hermione, it was a bit lonely. On Christmas Eve, I found myself shuffling into the boys' dormitory.

Harry and Ron were the only two sharing their dormitory, resulting in three empty beds. Basically, I invaded their space and claimed one of the beds as my own for the remainder of the holidays. The boys' dormitory was essentially the same as the girls'; except the girls' dorm was considerably cleaner and less stinky.

On Christmas morning, I woke to a small pile of presents at the foot of "my" bed. There was no mistaking it; they were address to me! My first pile of presents! "I've got presents!" I cried in excitement to Ron and Harry. The boys were just awaking with anticipation gleaming in their eyes. Harry was just as thrilled as I at the sight of his own pile. We had never gotten presents at the Dursleys!

"So do I!" Harry exclaimed. We shared enthusiastic grins and hopped identically off our beds onto the floor. Ron leaped off his bed not a moment later, an amused expression on his face.

"What'd you expect, turnips?"

I stuck my tongue out at him lightheartedly and dug into my pile of gifts. Like Harry, my first present was a parcel wrapped in thick brown paper and was from Hagrid. I ripped it open eagerly and saw a flash of red and gold. It was a warm, neatly knitted beanie striped with the Gryffindor colors. It was hard to believe that he could have weaved it himself, but I couldn't think of anyone else who could have done it!

I glanced over at my friends' presents to see what they had gotten so far. Ron had received a few little trinkets I had never laid eyes on before; they must be wizarding gadgets. Harry had acquired a choppy wood flute from Hagrid that sounded like an owl when blown and a stupid little fifty pence piece from the Dursleys.

Ron was fascinated by the coin, never having seen Muggle money before. "You can keep it," Harry said laughing. "Did my aunt and uncle send you anything, Lyd?" he added to me. I scoffed in hilarity, smiling jokingly.

"No," I responded. "See, you're family; they have to get you something. I, however, am not, so in a technical sense they couldn't care less about me. Which is perfectly fine with me—I don't fancy a pair of Vernon's old socks." Harry chuckled.

"I couldn't agree more!" he said.

"Oh no. I think I know what those are," Ron broke in; pointing to two similarly wrapped lumpy parcels which both my best friend and I had. "I kinda told my mum that you guys weren't expecting presents—she made you two Weasley sweaters."

"A Weasley sweater?" I voiced curiously, now opening the package Ron pointed out.

"Yeah, every year my mum makes all of us sweaters," he said, holding up his new dark red sweater, and sighing. "Mine's always maroon." I giggled and proceeded unwrapping the sweater. My sweater was thick, and turquoise with a large white L on the front. I could tell it was incredibly warm to wear and it went beautifully with my hair and skin tone. Mrs. Weasley also included a batch of homemade fudge that was absolutely delicious!

"That's really nice of her," Harry commented.

"She is so sweet!" I gushed joyfully, beaming.

"Sweet, that's a word to describe her," Ron stated sarcastically.

"Oh Ron, she is!" I exclaimed. "She's very sweet!"

"Maybe when she's not yelling at all of us," Ron said. "'Wash the dishes!', 'De-gnome the garden!', 'Fred, George and Ron Weasley, don't you dare touch that turkey or you'll be sweeping the whole house for months!'" he mocked in a high pitch voice. I laughed loudly at this, and pulled the comfy sweater over my head. It was wonderfully warm.

I got a large box of chocolates from Hermione—chocolate wands to be exact. My next two presents contained notes. I grabbed the one on the top and read it carefully. I did not recognize the handwriting, or the signature at the bottom. It read:

I know you don't know me, but I felt it was finally time for you to hear from me, especially with you getting into Hogwarts and all that! And hopefully with this present, I can rub off on you. Enjoy!

~ Aunt Zoey

Aunt Zoey? Who could that be? Interested, I unopened the thin parcel and out came a medium sized poster. Like most pictures in the magical world, the images moved. The poster was of a Quidditch team dressed in light green and yellow robes called the Kenmare Kestrels. Though on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, I clearly didn't know much about the sport in general. I had no idea what the other Quidditch teams were outside of Hogwarts!

"Kenmare Kestrels?" Ron questioned, unimpressed. "I suppose they're alright. Came in 6th out of 13 last year."

"Who are they?" I asked.

"Ireland's main Quidditch team. They're popular, though they usually win and lose games equally."

"Who sent that to you?" Harry inquired.

"Aunt Zoey," I read. Harry looked confused.

"You have an Aunt Zoey?"

"Apparently."

Even though I didn't know her, it was still very kind of her to send it. I put it off to the side gently and read through the other note. This one was from Jason:

Don't listen to anything my mom says! This Quidditch team is better! Merry Christmas, Lydia!

~Jason

His gift was also Quidditch themed. It was a medium pin that flashed the colors blue, gold and white. It first read "Fitchburg Finches" but soon faded into the words "7 time champions!" "Okay, Quidditch expert, another question. Who are the Fitchburg Finches?"

"That's an American team!" he explained. "There are two, the Finches and the Sweetwater All-Stars. Most tend to prefer the All-Stars, but the Finches are pretty good too. Most heavily populated places have at least one Quidditch team, but the more popular ones get about 2-4, in just Regional Teams. England's got about 8 Regional teams. Then of course, certain places have got an International Team. Those teams go to the Quidditch World Cup! Personally, my favorite team is the Chudley Cannons—as you can see," he said with a half smirk, referring to the many Chudley Cannon posters decorating the walls around his four-poster.

Suddenly, Ron dropped the box of Bertie Bott's he was eating, his jaw dropping in amazement. Quickly, I turned around to see Harry. He was just picking up from the floor a silvery gray material that had a certain water like texture. "If that's what I think it is—they're really rare!"

"What is it?" Harry and I chorused.

"I almost positive that's an invisibility cloak! Try it on, Harry!" Ron urged fervently. I watched, astounded, as Harry wrapped the cloak around his shoulders…and his body disappeared right before our very eyes! This time my jaw dropped. "It is! Look down!"

Eagerly, Harry raced to the closest mirror to examine the cloak's abilities. It was amazing—one of the most fascinating tricks I had seen yet! Near Harry's feet (at least I assumed it was near them) lay an envelope that had possibly fluttered from the bundle when Harry tried the cloak on. "Harry, there's a note!" I cried, handing the envelope to him. "Who's it from?"

He stared at the writing for a minute; finally, he looked up and shrugged. "It only says that it was my dad's and to 'use it well'. There's no signature." I furrowed my eyebrows, puzzled. Who could have possibly sent such an unusual gift to Harry then?

"Whoever it was, they sure know how to pick a gift!" Ron stated admirably. "I'd do anything for one of these!" Apparently, Ron didn't feel the same concern Harry and I did. I knew by the expression on Harry's face that he was thinking the same thing that I was. Where could this cloak have possibly come from?

Suddenly, Fred and George barged in and Harry quickly hid the cloak out of sight. The twins also had Weasley sweaters on; dark blue ones with two big yellow letters on the front—an F and a G. "Merry Christmas!"

"Hey, look! Lydia and Harry have got Weasley sweaters!"

"Theirs are better than our though. She clearly makes more of an effort if you're not family."

"Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?" George asked, frowning. "Get it on, they're lovely and warm!"

Ron made a face. "I hate maroon," he grumbled, but nonetheless pulled the sweater over his head. George observed the sweater carefully.

"She didn't put a letter on yours," he pointed out. "I guess she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid—we know were called Gred and Forge." I burst out laughing and the twins grinned at me.

"Uh oh, somebody's not wearing their Weasley sweater!" Fred called the second Percy stuck his head through the door, and seized the sweater he carried. "P for Prefect! Come on, Percy, we're all wearing ours! Even Lydia and Harry have got them on!"

"No, I don't want—"Percy mumbled through the material of the thick sweater as the twins forced it over his head. I giggled as his glasses were knocked crooked on his face. When he glared at me, I could only chuckled more.

"And you're not sitting with the Prefects today either," George added matter-of-factly. "Christmas is a time for family." And with that, Fred and George dragged their older brother out of the room, pinning his arms down to ensure he didn't escape. Assuming it was safe, Ron pulled the sweater off, giving it a dirty look.

"Put it back on!" Fred demanded, poking his head back in to check on his little brother. Ron groaned and tugged it on again miserably. Fred gave him a satisfied smile and left for the last time. Harry and I could only chortle at the display. I was truly starting to adore the entertaining Weasley family and couldn't be more overjoyed to be accepted by them.

~o~

I really wished more people could have been present to enjoy the marvelous feast that Hogwarts served that Christmas night. It was possibly—no, without a doubt—the best dinner I've ever indulged on in my life! Harry, the Weasleys and I amused ourselves with the party favors—wizard crackers that blew like a cannon and created a think mist of blue smoke, all the while popping out several live mice. The teachers, too, were merrier than ever. Even my favorite, McGonagall, was giggling and blushing as she sipped on her wine.

Fred, George and I were the first to flee the table to go and stalk Filch and Mrs. Norris. "We're going to teach you a handy little spell, Lydia," Fred told me, eyeing Mrs. Norris mischievously. "This is our favorite to use on that thing."

"All you have to do is say 'Alarte Ascendare', exactly as I just said it there," George explained, withdrawing his wand. "You want to jerk your wand up when you say it. Here, this is how it's done. Alarte Ascendare!" The dreadful cat screeched as it flew up high in the air. It landed on its feet with a plop and hissed. Fred, George and I muffled our laughter behind our hands.

In absolutely perfect timing, Filch trudged in angrily. "Who's here, you little fiends? Show yourselves!" Silently, Fred gestured at me to try the spell. I started to point my wand at the wicked cat, but on a second thought switched the direction.

"Alarte Ascendare!" I repeated.

"Ahhhhh!" Filch screamed as he soared high into the air and came down hard and fast right on his back. I smirked coolly.

"I love you," the twins said in awe.

"When I get my hands on you, you little devils—oh, you just wait!" Filch screamed furiously. "Don't care what Dumbledore says; I'll have you hanging in the dungeons by your ankles!" Filch span around looking for the source of our uncontrollable snickering. Finally, he sprinted towards our direction.

"RUN!" I yelled through my giggles and the twins and I bolted towards the Gryffindor common room, not daring to look back in the case that Filch caught a glimpse of our faces. We didn't stop until we were pushing through the common room entrance to stumble on the surprised expressions of Harry, Ron and Percy.

"And just where have you three been?" Percy insisted stiffly.

"Never you mind," George replied.

"Just polish your Prefect badge, Perce," Fred said. "I don't think it's shiny enough," he added sarcastically. His older brother merely glared and did in fact continue feverishly shining his precious badge.

Later in the afternoon, us six headed down to the snowy grounds where we had an intense snowball fight: Harry, Fred and I against Ron, George and Percy. It was so odd to see Percy for the first time laughing and actually having fun. Maybe I misjudged him. When we were finished, we were cold, wet and worn out; we spent the next few hours huddled by the blazing, toasty Gryffindor fire.

After a night of chatting with a few of my best friends (and Percy), observing the game of wizards chess as Ron destroyed Harry at it, munching on food like sandwiches and Christmas cake and finally rolling on the ground with laughter as Percy chased Fred and George all over Gryffindor tower because they nicked his badge.

Exhaustion finally swept over all of us, we fled to our respective rooms; but not after I got a kiss on the cheek each from Fred and George. Ron fell asleep almost immediately, but I lay awake; I couldn't stop smiling, for this was one of the happiest days I've ever had. After I few minutes, I pondered whether Harry had gone to sleep or not.

"Harry?" I whispered. "Are you still awake?"

"Yeah," I heard him whisper back.

I grinned. "It seems like this has been our first real Christmas. Compared to today, I don't think our Christmases with the Dursleys even count as a true Christmas."

"Just think: a year ago we were cooking the Christmas dinner for the Dursleys. Then we'd have to sit and watch while they devoured it and as Dudley ripped open his 43 presents. It's weird to think that lucky back then for us was getting a few scraps of the turkey and maybe a dollar each from them," Harry considered thoughtfully. I giggled in agreement. Suddenly, the fatigue was too strong to overcome and my eyes started to droop.

"Goodnight. Love you, Harry," I said sleepily.

"Love you too, Lydia. Night," he replied.

Almost instantly, I fell unconscious.

~o~

Please, please, please review! I appreciate all of the story alerts and favorites I get, but it would be REALLY nice if I got more than one review, with words other than "update". Not that I don't value the review, but it's kinda a pet peeve. Please tell me what you like or dislike about it! :)

CaptJess :)