Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters in it. I am merely borrowing J.K Rowling's brilliant characters and backdrop.
A/N: Thank you all for reading. I appreciate the reviews and when errors are pointed out, I do try and go back and fix them.
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Christmas was quickly approaching, not that Harry particularly cared, in fact he found the extravagant decorations displayed throughout the castle garishly ostentatious. Harry's dislike of the holiday was intensified by the weather that coincided with it. Once December settled in, Harry refused to set foot outside the castle and spent the majority of his time huddled in the library which was considerably warmer than the Slytherin common room, but still cold. The classrooms all had chilly draft in them as well, but none were worse than the Potions classroom where their breath rose in puffs of mist before their eyes.
A week before the winter holiday a list of those who would be staying at Hogwarts was passed around the Slytherin table – Harry was one of only four Slytherins to sign it.
"I do feel so sorry," simpered Pansy Parkinson, as the list was passed around, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."
The other Slytherin first years tensed looking from Harry to Parkinson.
Smirking at her, Harry boldly signed the sheet before simpering back, "Your pity for me is unnecessary, Parkinson, but I do feel a great deal for you."
"Why would you pity me, Potter."
Harry gave the girl a sardonic smirk and stood. He had more important business to attend to. Harry was planning on utilizing the holiday to further investigate the mystery of the third floor corridor. This meant prying information out of Hagrid and finding out the location of Hogwarts kitchen was a crucial step in this process.
"Weasley," Harry called, catching up to the Weasley twins outside of the Great Hall.
"Look George. Its Harry Potter," cried the first twin, pointing at Harry with feigned awe.
"The boy-who-lived is talking to us," the other mock gasped.
Harry rolled his eyes at them.
"So what brings the mighty savior of the wizarding world to humble himself before the likes of us?"
"Do you two know how to get into the kitchens?" Harry asked cutting straight to the chase. Harry had decided that if any student in the school knew where and how to gain access to the kitchens it would the Weasley twins.
"It's quite simple really," began the twin Harry believed to be Fred.
"Go down the stairwell to the Hufflepuff basement," George continued.
"Walk down the corridor and you will see,"
"a painting of fruit."
"Tickle the pear,"
"and it will turn into a green doorknob."
"Then all you do is open the door and you're in the kitchen."
The twins informed Harry, fluidly taking turns explaining.
"Thank you," said Harry.
"No problem," the twin redheads grinned, giving Harry lavish bows before scampering off.
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The remainder of the week speed past and before Harry knew it the children who were going home for the holidays boarded the train and Harry was left nearly alone in the Slytherin common. The two upper year Slytherins who had stayed and Bulstrode all keep to their dorms leaving Harry free reign to lounge out across an entire coach and claim another for his books in the Slytherin common room.
The days prior to Christmas, Harry filled with reading and playing solitary and chess against himself attempting to avoid the other children who had stayed over the holidays and the festivities planned by the staff.
Christmas day Harry awoke early as he always did. He fumbled on his bedside table for his glasses and once he found them, shoved them onto his face. Harry flung the covers off the bed, freezing when he heard a clattering. Peering down, Harry saw a package on the floor and two additional ones on his bed – he had presents. Harry stared at them dumbfounded. He had never received presents before. The Dursleys had certainly never given him anything and at the prison the closest thing he had received to a present was when the boys who shared his cell had set a fire at the end of his bed as a birthday present. Harry had returned the gift by embedding nails he had taken from their bedframes into their mattresses, so when they lay down they were punctured by nails and while they were removing the nails their beds collapsed.
One package was from Draco Malfoy, another from Hagrid, and the third an anonymous sender.
Harry opened the one from Malfoy first. The parcel was wrapped in silvery wrapping paper and beneath the paper was a wooden box. Inside the box was a silver sculpture of a dragon with the Malfoy crest engraved into it. The frivolous but opulent nature of the gift did not surprise Harry given the gift was from the pretentious pureblood Malfoy and while the artifact itself was completely useless, Harry reckoned he would be able to sell it for a good sum on the black-market.
The package from Hagrid was wrapped in thick brown paper and contained several of the revolting, rock hard lumps that Hagrid generously called rock cakes and a wooden flute that Hagrid had clearly whittled himself.
Harry then turned to the third parcel, the one without a name. As Harry opened it something fluid and silvery grey slithered to the floor and a note fluttered out. Harry bent over and picked it up, holding it out in front of himself. The artifact seemed to be a cloak of sorts. Shrugging, Harry tossed it on top of his suitcase.
Harry then picked up the note and unfolded it.
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.
Use it well? He already a winter cloak and his seemed far superior to the one that had come in the parcel. And why had is father left it with whoever it was who had sent him the cloak, which brought up the question of who had sent the cloak?
Harry glanced back over at where he tossed the cloak and froze. His suitcase was gone. Harry reached down to where the trunk should be and his fingers brushed against a silky fabric. Grabbing the fabric, Harry yanked the cloak off the trunk. As soon as Harry removed the cloak, the trunk appeared.
Gaping, Harry looked back and forth between the trunk and the cloak. Once the shock had worn off a little, Harry stood and draped the cloak around himself watching in awe as his body disappeared.
The line, "use it well," from the note now made considerably more sense Harry thought as schemes where the cloak would be highly useful raced through his mind.
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Around midday, Harry strolled down to the kitchens, following the Weasley twins' instructions.
There Harry collected a vat of pumpkin juice and with a good deal of persuasion managed to obtain a bottle of hard liquor to spike the cup of juice he would give Hagrid with.
It was a fairly well known fact that alcohol loosened peoples tongues, some more than others, and Harry was wagering that Hagrid would be one of the people more susceptible to that effect of alcohol, particularly as Hagrid was prone to divulging confidential information without the induction of alcohol.
Tightly wrapping his winter cloak around him, Harry trudged through the snow to Hagrid's hut. By the time Harry reached Hagrid's door, he was shaking violently and cursing every entity he could think of.
"Harry, what a pleasant surprise. Come in," Hagrid said gruffly, ushering Harry inside.
"I brought pumpkin juice," said Harry once his teeth had stopped chattering too violently for him to form any intelligible words.
"That was good of you," Hagrid said.
Harry bobbed his head and smiled sweetly, taking a seat across from Hagrid at the table.
"Thank you for your present. It was kind of you to send one," Harry said, once he and Hagrid were settled at the table, truly meaning the words.
"Your welcome, Harry," Hagrid smiled, clearly pleased that Harry liked his present.
"Do you think you could get us some of those rock cakes?" Harry asked.
"Course I can. Didn't realize you were so fond of em'," said Hagrid, lumbering off into the kitchen.
Harry quickly slipped the bottle of liquor out of his robe and poured a generous helping into Hagrid's pumpkin juice.
By the time Hagrid returned, Harry was sipping at his pumpkin juice innocently.
The dark haired Slytherin held his breath as Hagrid took a slurp of the spiked juice, mentally sighing with relief when the man took no notice of the tampering to his drink.
"I was curious about some of the creatures on Hogwarts' grounds," Harry began, hoping to gently pry the purpose of the three headed dog out of Hagrid.
"Well, if you want to know anything about the creatures here at Hogwarts, I'm the person to go to," said Hagrid puffing out his chest proudly.
"Is it true that there are centaurs in the forbidden forest?" Harry asked, forcing feigned awe into his voice and adopting an expression of admiration.
"Yep an' unicorns too."
"Wow," Harry breathed, "and are there merpeople in the lake too?"
"I can show up to yeh sometime, Harry," Hagrid beamed, bobbing his head.
Hagrid slurped down some more pumpkins juice and Harry could tell he was running low.
"Could yeh fill me back up, Harry?"
"Of course," Harry nodded, pouring the giant man more pumpkin juice.
"Hey Hagrid look over there," Harry called, pointing out the window…resorting to the oldest book in the trick. While Hagrid was looking for the nonexistent creature Harry was vividly describing to him, the raven haired boy dumped more liquor into the man's cup.
After another fifteen minutes or so of lulling conversation and several more mugs of spiked pumpkin juice, Harry decided it was time to bring up the three headed dog.
"I suppose you also know the purpose of the three headed dog?" Harry asked, in the same innocent tone he had used when delivering his previous questions.
"How do you know about Fluffy?" Hagrid demanded his speech slurring slightly.
"Fluffy?"
"Yeah – he's mine – bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year – I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the…" Hagrid trailed off apparently realizing that he had been about to reveal highly confidential information to Harry.
"The what?" Harry persisted.
"Now, listen to me, Harry – yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel…"
"Nicholas Flamel?"
Hagrid had turned a nasty shade of white and looked furious with himself, "I ain't tellin' you anymore."
Harry nodded, satisfied enough with the information he had received.
A/N: Thank you all for reading. I appreciate the reviews and when errors are pointed out, I do try and go back and fix them.