A/N: A lot of build up, a lot of clues, some angst, some fun.. building up for action in the very near future. Enjoy, and please review. I so appreciate my regular reviewers and look forward to hearing their opinions, but I would love to hear from some of you who haven't reviewed as well!!!
Cheers,
Tenten's Mom
Winter Solstice
Concentrating very hard and fighting the image of plummeting from the enchanted ceiling to the mats below, Harry slowly lowered himself to a soft landing on the floor. Morgaine had led her class through an exercise that taught them to focus their magical energy to slowly push them off the floor and levitate among the enchanted stars above the Great Hall. There was a lot of giggling and relieved chatter as she applauded their efforts.
"Very good! Excellent!" Professor McPonndeer cried. "Now sit down opposite of your partners. Decide who's going to try the next exercise first. This time, I want you to focus your energy in your chest. Imagine every bit of magical force you possess resides there. The rest of you, center yourselves and relax. Those of you going first, when you're ready, see your energy push out against the center of your partner's chest. Do this slowly, I don't want to give the hospital wing any business tonight."
Harry closed his eyes reluctantly and centered himself. Tonks had a wicked look in her eye for a moment. He didn't know if he could trust her. It seemed that her mischievousness and clumsiness were directly in sync with her husband's werewolf cycles.
Slowly at first, then picking up speed, Harry felt himself slide backwards across the room. He came to an abrupt stop when his back gently bumped into the wall. Opening his eyes, he gasped seeing how far Tonks made him travel. Tonks grinned and winked.
"You thought I'd send you careening didn't you?" She challenged.
Harry smiled and shrugged as he walked back to the center of the room and took his turn.
"Trust me?" Harry whispered.
"Of course!" Tonks answered back and closed her eyes.
"Your mistake." Harry threatened and concentrating, called up his energy and pushed. Gently, Tonks slid to the wall behind her. Suddenly, Harry had a thought.
Glancing over to make sure McPonndeer wasn't looking, he reversed his magic and "pulled". With a startled look, Tonks sailed rapidly back toward him until they bumped knees. Not expecting what Harry had planned, she overbalanced and fell on top of him. Laughing, they hugged each other and disentangled themselves.
"Mr. Potter," Professor McPonndeer commanded. "Could you please explain yourself?"
Knowing he hadn't quite set a proper example for the students, Harry stood and apologized, "I'm very sorry, Professor, I shouldn't have tried that. It's just that I felt that if I could go up and down, then if I could push, I could pull. I must admit it was harder to control, though."
Morgaine gave up looking stern and broke into a smile. "Actually, you have just demonstrated part of the next lesson after we return from holiday." When the laughter of the class died down she clapped her hands for attention.
"I can imagine it is great fun to levitate. I wish I could master that myself. Please resist the temptation to practice during holiday without a well padded floor.
"Tomorrow is Winter Solstice and the end of term. The day after tomorrow most of you will be leaving. Headmistress McGonagall has graciously given me permission to renew an ancient tradition. We're going to have a Winter Solstice bonfire celebration.
"At sunset, all the fires in the Hogwarts castle will be put out, the Solstice fire will be lit and a feast will be held outside. There'll be plenty of hot drinks, dancing and fun to keep you warm. At midnight, all the fires will be re-lit with torches from the bonfire. Out with the old and in with the new so to speak.
"What I need you all to do is to write a wish for the new year on a piece of parchment and tie it to a stick of evergreen wood. We will be casting the wishes into the fire to offer them up into the Cosmos. Remember, the more selfish the wish, the less likely it will come true."
Excited chatter rose as she dismissed the class. An unexpected party was always a good thing. The Great Hall emptied quickly as students raced back to their houses to determine what to wear and discuss what sort of wish they were going to make.
"Mr. Potter," Morgaine inquired. "Would you do me the favor of escorting me to my quarters? I'd appreciate a word."
Harry waited for her to gather her notes. "I'm really sorry, Professor. I meant no disrespect..."
"I'm not upset with you, Harry" Morgaine switched to his first name as all the student were out of earshot. "I am concerned though."
"What about?" Harry asked.
"Well, it's hard to put into words," she began as they climbed the stairs that led to her quarters. "It's just that, well I could be mistaken, but you've seemed a bit 'closed' lately."
"I don't understand what you mean."
"You are a man of deep emotions. My gift can usually pick up on your presence and your mood rather easily. But lately, you've seemed to have shut down somehow. Experience tells me, when a person does that, there is something troubling them."
Harry thought for a moment, trying to figure out what she meant, then it dawned on him.
"I think I know what you've been feeling, or should I say, not feeling." Harry explained. "You see, I've been assigned to practice Occlumency by Professor Moody. I'm to constantly be on my guard, so to speak, until it becomes habit."
"That explains a lot." Morgaine said relieved. "So you've been doing it long?"
"Only a couple of weeks. I still slip from time to time." Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "I'll be glad when I've done it enough to lose these tension headaches."
They were at her door and she paused. "I've just the thing. Not a potion or spell, just some good old Muggle magic. Trust me?"
"Last time I asked someone that, she took a ride she wasn't expecting." Harry grinned and followed Morgaine into her apartment.
She indicated the cushion in front of the low sitting table. "Kneel or sit as you are most comfortable. This is my meditation center. It helps me to focus and relax."
Harry sat cross legged on the cushion and watched her light the candle. It was strange to see someone living at Hogwarts to strike a match and touch it to a wick. Picking up a what looked like a long narrow pillow, Morgaine went to the hearth placed it near the fire to warm. She picked up two river rocks about the size of a closed fist that were already warming in a cauldron and brought them to him.
"Rest your hands on your legs, palms up, if you please." Morgaine commanded and placed the warm rocks in the palms of Harry's hands. She took a small vial from the meditation table and placed a drop of its contents on each rock. "This is simply lavender oil. Now center yourself and begin your relaxation exercises.'
Bemused, Harry closed his eyes and began deep breathing. The warmth from the smooth rocks and the scent of the warm lavender oil quickened his ability to relax. When Morgaine draped the warm, heavy pillow around his shoulders, the tension in his head and neck instantly begin to melt away.
"Just continue to relax and meditate. Open your eyes to contemplate the candle or keep them closed, whichever you wish." She instructed. "I'm going to sit here next to you for a few minutes. When the neck roll and the rocks cool down, we'll see how you're feeling."
Experimentally, Harry opened his eyes. The only light in the room was from the fireplace and the candle. He found it quite easy to fix his gaze on it and continue to meditate. Soon, nothing in the room existed to him but the warmth and the flickering candle and the subtle aroma of lavender. He didn't know how long he sat like that, he only knew he didn't want to move from that particular spot ever again.
After a while, Harry heard a gentle voice in the back of his mind. He thought at first it was Morgaine telling him that time was up, but she was sitting close to him and the voice was so far away. He concentrated on the female voice that seemed to irresistibly beckon him. It was so beautiful, so familiar. The words became clearer.
"Three times defied by the parents..." Green flashes of light emanated from the candle and were replaced by rays of gold.
"Three times defeated by the son..." Green light again changed to gold.
"Three times discover what is hidden..." Green light, then gold which remained and grew brighter.
"Then the Dark Lord's fate shall be determined..." Lily Potter's voice cried triumphantly and the golden light changed to brilliant white.
Morgaine's gasp and the disappearance of the white light, brought Harry back to the present. Harry looked at her.
"Did you say those things I heard?" He asked her.
Morgaine slowly shook her head.
"Then it must have been her voice... but it couldn't have been!" Harry whispered in awe. "Did you see the candle flame change to different colors?"
Again, Morgaine shook her head. "I only saw the enthralled look on your face and I only heard you speak. Who did you hear?"
"It's funny, the only time I remember her ever speaking to me was in the form of a spell shadow from Voldemort's wand." Harry said slowly, still trying to piece the puzzle together. "I could have sworn I heard my mother's voice." He went on to tell Morgaine what he'd heard and seen.
"You were repeating those exact same words." Morgaine said. "And nothing changed in the room. There was no light. Are you sure you don't have the Sight?"
"If I do, it's never shown itself before... I don't think it was a prediction so much as a message." Harry said. "Three times defied... Dumbledore told me my parents defied Voldemort three times."
Morgaine nodded, "And three times defeated?"
"Not counting when I was a baby, I've faced his contemporary self three times and came out alive. When I destroyed the diary in the Chamber of Secrets, I fought a memory of his youth taking on a life of its own as Tom Riddle, not Voldemort himself. But the next line doesn't make sense. I'm looking for four um... objects, not three."
"But if you find three of those objects, is it possible the fourth will determine his fate?"
Harry nodded. Obviously destroying the final horcrux would seal Voldemort's doom. "Yes, you're right. It would. Absolutely."
"Then maybe your vision was meant to encourage you. You've been through a lot and I know you feel as if you've been spinning your wheels concerning your quest. Perhaps a mother's love sent this to give you hope." Morgaine suggested.
"Maybe. Merlin knows we all could use a bit of hope. I just wish for once, somebody would spell things out clearly instead dropping clues in bits and pieces. But it's late and tomorrow will be a very long day with what you've got planned. Perhaps an answer will come to me in my sleep." Harry set down the rocks and pulled the neck roll from his shoulders. "I want to thank you for tonight. That was an experience I'll not soon forget. And the headache's gone."
"Well," Morgaine walked Harry to the door. "At least that went as expected. Nothing else did. You've been given a gift of love tonight, cherish it."
"I will." Harry looked into her deep black eyes. "You are an unique and wonderful woman, Morgaine. I can't help but think you're not quite as Muggle as you claim to be."
A short time later as Harry prepared to sleep, his scar tingled. Not painfully,but it was enough to know the his enemy had heard the words of his mother as well. Absentmindedly rubbing the scar, he smiled grimly, knowing that her voice would not bring the Dark Lord the same reassuring feeling that it had given him.
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Commander Snape ran to his master's rooms. He found the Dark Lord staring out the window. His brow glistened with sweat yet he wrapped his arms around himself as though he were trying to ward off a chill. The lights from the village below reflected on Voldemort's pale skin giving the illusion that it glowed with a pale blue light.
"So, Commander, you heard our late enemy's voice as well?" Voldemort kept his back to Snape.
"No, My Lord. I heard your summons." Snape answered. "You seemed quite distressed."
"I heard a voice I've not heard in over sixteen years. The noble Lily Potter spoke to me. Taunted me. Like her shadow self did the night I returned to life."
"A ghost?"
"No, a visitation. It seems our young adversary has not swayed from his journey to face me one last time and his mother came to gloat. 'Three times defied by the parents... Three times defeated by the son... Three times discover what is hidden... Then the Dark Lord's fate shall be determined."
"Three times three, a powerful combination." Snape observed. "Pardon My Lord, the first two stanzas are clear, but what are the three discoveries?"
"They remain a mystery to myself as well. If it had been five... " Voldemort drifted into thought. "Is it possible that Dumbledore had... No that is impossible. No one knows the true nature of my hidden treasures. No one but you, Commander."
"If Dumbledore had discovered any, I would have told you, Lord," Snape reassured him. "I would have known he had especially if he'd involved Potter. His thoughts, as you know, are an open book to us."
"Then perhaps it is not three objects, but places, such as his journey to Godric's Hollow. Eternity knows knows the truth and is trying to reveal it. We must lure him out from his blanket of protection before it's too late," Voldemort crossed over to a glowing model of the universe. He studied it from several angles. A wave of his wand and the universe dissolved, replaced by the solar system. Snape waited patiently as the Dark Lord checked and double checked the positions of the planets and stars.
"It is time to move ahead. Tell our people to increase mischief in the south. Nothing in the towns and cities. Keep to the rural areas. They must lure the Ministry as far away from Hogwarts as possible." Voldemort began. "The giants might have fun in along the Welsh coast and countryside."
"Yes, Lord." Commander Snape made the proper notations.
"I also want you to inform Mr. Malfoy that the time has come to set the trap. If we are to prevent Mr. Potter from making his discoveries, we must act as soon as possible. I want his spirit broken before we destroy him. Seeing his two best friends suffer for his sake should be the proper spell to achieve that end. Capture Miss Granger and the young men will follow." Voldemort rested a long finger on the model of Earth and with a flick set it spinning. "Tell him to have everything in place for the second new moon from today."
Commander Snape bowed and swept from the room. As he strode down the corridors, nobody who might pass him would have any doubt by the look of his bearing that his was the second in command of one of the most feared, most powerful forces in history.
Before sending for his messengers, Snape stopped at his quarters. With a wave of his hand, a single candle lit on his desk. He filled a large crystal goblet with a dark amber liquid. The hand that brought the drink to his lips was trembling.
Once again, he had lied to the Dark Lord and lived to tell about it. How long would he continue to be so fortunate? He knew exactly what the message meant. Snape raised his chalice toward the heavens in a silent toast to his deceased opponent and drained the glass. It had been a very long time since he had seen such fear on Voldemort's face. He set down the chalice and reached for the candle.
As he snuffed out the flame, Severus Snape whispered sardonically, "So mote it be."
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Stars shone brilliantly over the heads of the revelers. The air was crisp and cold as students and faculty danced around the bonfire. On smaller cooking fires spits of roasting meat turned, sending wonderful aromas on the light breeze. House-elves, wrapped in down comforters, sliced pieces of beef, venison and pork for hot sandwiches. On a nearby table were hot drinks to warm everyone. There was pear cider, butterbeer, and cocoa for the students and mulled wine, wassail and rum punch for the adults.
Everybody seemed to be having a wonderful time. Harry even convinced McGonagall to dance with him. When Ginny conjured a bunch of mistletoe above her and Harry stole a kiss on the Headmistress' cheek, she smiled and blushed like a shy school girl. Even Madam Pince and Filch were spotted creaking around the dance area together.
Ron arranged to have the beginning fliers and the four Quidditch teams to do a bit of precision flying as entertainment. A spectacular fireworks display followed. Hagrid sat in a shadowy area telling ghost stories and tales of the creatures that roamed the Forbidden Forest to an enthralled group who's numbers grew with each tale.
Near midnight, Morgaine led everyone hand-in-hand in a circle dance around the great Yule Bonfire. Singing as they danced, they moved faster and faster until someone, who couldn't keep up, tripped and caused a domino effect with most of the crowd falling on the ground laughing. They quickly quieted at her signal.
"This is the true new year of our planet Earth. Tomorrow, the sun will lengthen its journey through our skies bringing the promise of Spring and new beginnings." Morgaine smiled. "If those gentle beings who care for us so well will come forward to receive the new fire for our hearths and homes."
Dobby, dressed in a toddler sized snowsuit with four mufflers, at least a dozen hats and a different colored mitten on each hand, led the house-elves in a ring around the bonfire. Each held a torch at the ready.
"Before the house-elves light their torches. let us all show our gratitude for everything they do." Morgaine began the clapping which was enthusiastically echoed around the crowd. Hermione cheered the loudest. Only a few students held back, rolling their eyes and muttering.
Pleased and embarrassed, the house-elves smiled, bowed and waved their thanks. When the applause died down, they all stepped up, lit their torches and scampered back to the castle to re-light the fires.
After the last house-elf disappeared, Morgaine spoke again. "We will now send an offering and a wish of good fortune for the following year." She picked up a bundle of evergreen sticks, "For the hope of life constantly surprising and renewing our spirits, we offer evergreen boughs. For peace and harmony here and throughout the world, we offer mistletoe. And to ward off evil, the eye of evil, and the spirit of evil, we offer dried holly."
She tossed the large bundle in the bonfire and sparks shot up into the night sky as it caught fire. She then picked up a long garland made of fresh holly and mistletoe and handed it to Hagrid, who bowed and accepted her gift.
"This is for over your stable doors, so that the animals who are sheltered there are blessed with health and fruitfulness." She explained. "Now is the time for everyone who made a wish to toss that wish into the fire and perhaps it will come true in this new year."
With quiet reverence the students walked up to the fire, threw their wishes in, then stepped back to make room for others. Arms around each other, they stood in silence and watched the parchment wrapped branches catch fire. Unexpectedly, each time a written wish was consumed, the author's voice could be heard speaking the wish from the midst of the rising smoke.
In awe, Harry listened with the rest as the dozens of hopes and dreams rose towards the heavens. There were several wishes for this house or that to win the House or Quidditch cup. There were wishes of peace and safety for loved ones. Quite a few wished for a million Galleons or for a certain someone to notice them. There were several unselfish wishes too. Harry heard hopes for recovery for the Diagon Alley victims and help for the orphans.
He recognized several individual wishes as well. Joshua Yosiff wished desperately to become the greatest Seeker in the world someday. He was touched to hear Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Tonks, and Remus' voices wish that the fates would help him achieve his goals safely. Professor McGonagall's voice rose asking for strength and vision to do right by the students left in her care. Within his peripheral vision, he saw Morgaine collapse and several people rush to her side.
Rocking back and forth on her knees, weeping and laughing at the same time, she hugged herself. "I never thought, never imagined... this would happen!" Ecstatically, she tried to take every hand that reached out to her. "Listen... Listen! Isn't it beautiful! I never dreamed it possible! I just wanted a fun, meaningful night for the children. A happy memory to carry with them, but this!"
Firenze made his way toward Morgaine. Carefully, he knelt on all fours beside her and cupped her face in the palms of his hands. He gazed with his own astonishingly blue eyes into her tear sparkled black ones.
"You've returned the humans here to rituals that honor Creation and her cycles long forgotten. The Magic in this place has honored that. The wishes voiced on the sacred fire is your reward." Firenze's perpetually calm voice explained and they embraced.
Tearing herself from the touching scene, McGonagall asked the students to return to the castle and retire for the night. Unusually silent, they respectfully obeyed. Most of the staff followed, leaving a very small group around the ecstatic Muggle woman.
"Why don't you let me help you to your quarters, Morgaine." Colleen placed her hands on her friend's shoulders.
"No. That's all right." Morgaine broke her embrace with Firenze and turned to Colleen. "We can't put the bonfire out. It must die away of its own accord. I'll keep watch until morning."
Clearing his throat, Hagrid said, "Oh, that's all right Perfessor. It's a nice night and I don't mind th' cold. Fang and me can watch it for ye."
"And I can stay as well, to keep them company." Firenze offered with a warm smile.
"Thank you. But I'll be back to help spread the ashes. I thought your vegetable garden would appreciate them." Morgaine replied.
"That they would. That they would." Hagrid nodded. "But I think me and Firenze can manage that too, doncha think, Firenze?"
"I believe it would be safe for me to go as far as your garden, Hagrid, especially after tonight. The others will respect the Old Ways, so there shouldn't be any trouble assisting you in the morning." Firenze gazed longingly at the forest.
"Then I give you my thanks," Morgaine said with hugs for each of them. Bidding everyone good night, she left, her arms linked with Colleen's.
Harry took Ginny's hand and began to leave when he noticed a parchment rolled onto an evergreen stick laying on the ground. Picking it up he turned back and tossed it into the glowing embers. No sense letting a wish go to waste.
"Someone must have lost it." He told Ginny and they turned back toward the castle.
As the parchment caught, a young man's voice full of pain and longing could clearly be heard. "I wish to be free."
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"Mr. Fletcher, thank you so much for coming to meet with us before taking Julie home for the holidays." Professor McGonagall invited the very worried father into her office where Julie's teachers waited to speak with him. "Do have a seat."
Sitting near the head of a long table set up for the meeting James surveyed the faces that peered at him with concern. "Is my daughter being expelled?"
"Not at all, Mr. Fletcher." McGonagall reassured him. "We believe, given the circumstances, Hogwarts is still the safest place for her. We only wanted to meet with you to see if we could come up with a plan to help her more effectively next term. I do apologize if you misunderstood our intentions."
Relieved, Mr. Fletcher sat back and sighed. "I'll authorize anything, do anything to help my baby girl."
"I'm sure you would." McGonagall said encouragingly. "We all want what is best for her. Miss Granger has compiled a report of the teachers who've worked with Julie this past term. I'll let her begin."
"Julie's really a sweet girl." Hermione began, referring to her notes. "To begin with her work, overall, it is excellent. This is a big improvement over last year. She was just above average last year, but this term, she has the highest grade point average in her year. She by far excels everyone in her classes. She is always prepared and ready to answer questions. The one exception is Defense Against Dark Creatures. At this point, Mr. Lupin is giving her an incomplete. I'll let him explain."
Lupin leaned forward. "Overall, her work is exemplary and I wish to give her a grade that reflects that. But she has flat out refused to do her practical work with covering bogarts. Under the circumstances, I believe she is too afraid to face anything relating to her disappearance last summer. Perhaps if we can help her get through that trauma, she could complete the work and receive the grade she deserves."
"Her participation in class has improved as well." Hermione continued. "Her instructors report that she is assertive and unafraid of speaking up, compared to last year when she was so shy."
"Well, that's good, isn't it?" Fletcher asked.
"Of course it is," Hermione assured him. "We are just outlining the drastic changes in her personality and abilities. Another positive change is her ability to fly. As you know, she made Seeker and Coach Weasley says she's one of the best he's seen at that age." She glanced apologetically toward Harry. "She helped to clobber Ravenclaw last weekend."
"On the other hand, she's been less willing to join in with her peers. She's much less chatty and is of a quite serious nature." Hermione continued. "I don't believe I've heard her laugh out loud once this term. Although, times are very serious and all the children have been more solemn as a whole.
"She's earned one detention." Hermione cleared her throat and colored a bit. "I wouldn't have believed it of her, but both Coach Weasley and Mr. Potter witnessed it. I'll let Mr. Potter explain the circumstances to you."
James Fletcher gave Harry a look that warned him to tread very carefully. Full of paternal pride and protectiveness, Julie's father was just waiting for someone to say the wrong thing about his daughter.
"It happened during practice. One of Beaters hit a bludger poorly and it almost knocked Miss Fletcher off her broom. She was furious and justifiably so. She began berating the beater for the blunder and let fly a long round of cursing. That in itself might be ignored considering the nature of the game. What cinched her detention was that in the process she called the young man a Mudblood."
Mr. Fletcher sat back stunned. "You'll forgive me if I say I can't believe that of her."
"I'm very sorry, but as Miss Granger said, I heard it myself." Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Mind you, once she calmed down, she was quite remorseful and went on her own to make amends with the boy in question."
"But I don't understand. Her mother was Muggle born." Mr. Fletcher explained. "She'd rather cut out her own tongue than to utter such a foul word."
"I'm very sorry, Sir," Harry said. "But as I said. It seemed to have just slipped out and she showed genuine regret the moment she realized she'd said it. Of her own volition, she wrote letters of apology to everyone present at the time."
"I wish I knew what they did to her last summer." James looked down at his hand. "I've noticed changes too.
"We've always been very close. Especially so after her mother passed. But I've noticed she's seemed almost uncomfortable to be around me. There have been changes in her tastes for food, clothes, and what she likes to do. When I mention these things to her, she just shrugs and says she's growing up. Never having the experience of being a young girl, I chose to accept it as such."
"Here, she seems to prefer the company of older students and adults over her age group." Hermione said. "She's in my office anytime the door is open. Again, she doesn't talk a lot about herself, she discusses spells and classes and she asks question after question."
"About what?" Fletcher asked.
"Oh, about many things. Life in general. She's asked me what it was like to be raised in a Muggle home, what it felt like to learn that I was a witch, what does it feel like to fall in love.
"She noticed that last year I was, and still am, close friends with Mr. Potter and she asked why I choose to date Mr. Weasley instead. I suppose these are questions of the same nature that one would ask of a mother figure. I've been as available to her as I possibly can be with my schedule."
"Thank you, I suppose at this time of her life she would need a woman to talk to." Julie's father said sadly.
"Now we must discuss what Madam Pomfrey and I feel is something to be very concerned about and directly related to her sleepwalking." Hermione consulted her notes.
"A couple of girls in her dormitory came to me shortly after the night of the attack. They were very worried about her. It seems that last year they and Julie were inseparable. This year, Julie has pulled away more and more.
"She's become extremely private, more so than most girls her age. She refuses to go to the showers with them and will wait until very late at night or rise extremely early in the morning to insure there is no one in the bathing room. She will become extremely embarrassed and leave the room or hide under her covers if the her room mates are in a state of undress. She will either sleep in her daytime clothes or change in her bed with the curtains drawn."
"Don't girls at this age become self-conscious about their bodies and desire privacy?" Mr. Fletcher asked.
"Yes," Madam Pomfrey interjected. "But what Julie's friends described is taking that desire too far. In my experience, it usually indicates strong evidence of abuse."
"You mean those animals that took her..." Mr. Fletcher's face drained of color, he clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles whitened.
"I very discretely performed a physical exam and there's no sign someone hurt her in that way. She has denied that anyone has ever touched her inappropriately every bit as much as she's denied remembering any events during her disappearance last summer." Madam Pomfrey frowned. "But at this point, I can't rule anything out."
Mr. Fletcher looked completely defeated. "What are we to do for her, then?"
"Well, if she were suffering from a physical ailment, I could put her to bed and make her take a remedy, couldn't I?." Madam Pomfrey began. "But when a soul is troubled, it's not so easy. You can't force someone to heal their psyche unless that person willingly works with you. She's refused counseling. She even refuses to speak to Professor McPonndeer whom, I believe, could do wonders for her. If she's not ready to truly face what's troubling her, forcing her could be quite traumatic and possibly do more harm than good."
"When I was attacked as a young boy," Lupin began very gently. "I went through a period where I withdrew into myself. I was depressed and angry with the world. I blamed everyone for my lot in life. Nothing anyone said to me helped. I resented any type of counseling.
"It was through the love of my parents and very patient people who let me know they cared without pushing that I was finally able to come to terms with my fate and get the help I needed to deal with it."
"We're not trying to tell you how you should raise your daughter, Mr. Fletcher," McGonagall spoke up. "But for the time being, the best thing you can do for her is simply be there for her and love her."
"That's the easy part. I've done that her whole life." Mr. Fletcher smiled sadly.
"When she's ready to open up, you'll probably be the first to know then," McGonagall returned his smile. "As for us, we've compiled a list of what we can do to help her and keep her safe. First, we've instructed the Fat Lady to alert us if she is ever out of Gryffindor house after hours. We've set alarms on the Main Hall doors, should she slip through when they are not locked. The staff, especially Miss Granger will endeavor to be available to her if she needs to talk. We're also considering asking a couple of the older Gryffindor girls to befriend her and mentor her."
James Fletcher nodded his head. "Until she's ready to open up as you say, that sounds like the best plan of action to me." He stood and shook hands with the staff. "I'll try to make this a wonderful holiday for her. Give her some happy memories to dwell on. Thank you so much for caring about my daughter."
"As you said, Mr. Fletcher." Hermione said taking his hand. "That's the easy part."
Julie's father left to take his daughter home for the holidays.
"He's a nice man." Hermione observed. "I think that went better than it could have."
"At least he's more concerned about his daughter than his own ego or keeping up appearances." McGonagall agreed.
Hermione and Harry left the Headmistress' office and headed down the spiral staircase. Both had last minute things to do before leaving for the holidays themselves. Hermione was to spend Christmas with her family and then return to the Black estate on the twenty sixth. Harry was going to spend a couple of days going over Flitwick's translations of the books he'd found in Snape's office. He was due at his mansion to celebrate Christmas with the Weasleys on the twenty third.
As they walked, curiosity got the better of Harry. "So Julie asked why you chose to set your cap for Ron instead of me, what did you say?"
"I told her I'd considered you briefly." Hermione's eyes sparkled. "But Ginny's always liked you and I wouldn't hurt her for the world. Besides, every time I imagined kissing you, I got this feeling like it would be the same as kissing my brother. Didn't do a thing for me."
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"Thanks so much for helping me slog through this, Clarissa." Harry handed her yet another pile of documents that he's just finished putting his signature to. "I hate all this legal gobbledygook. If it wasn't for you I'd never get to celebrate Christmas."
Harry had expected to pass the next two days going over the translations of Snape's magic journals. Instead he found himself knee deep in end of the year paper work addressed to the Heir of Black delivered by two very large, important looking owls belonging to the barrister of the Black estate. Each packet was marked urgent. One glance at the legal double speak and Harry ran to Clarissa for help.
"No problem," Clarissa smiled. "Aunt Minerva doesn't need me today. She's involved in some sort of research project. Neville's off doing last minute things for Madam Sprout. So here I am."
"Well, I appreciate it enormously." Harry massaged his right hand that grew progressively stiffer each time he signed his name and initialed several dozen papers. "Being head of a noble and most ancient house, isn't all that great some days. What's next?"
"I promise this is the last bit." Clarissa handed him another folder. "It's a list of charities that the Black Family regularly donates to. You need to draw lines through and initial the charities you don't wish to fund anymore. Then sign the dotted lines on page two, seven, twelve, thirty four, and thirty six."
"Merlin's beard! There's quite a list isn't there?" Harry scanned the pages.
"Good for tax purposes and political power." Clarissa commented. "If you want to add any charities, just write the barrister and he'll send you those lovely forms as well."
"Sirius couldn't have paid much attention to these. He wouldn't have approved of over two thirds of this list."
"Most folk just sign away and don't pay any attention. Everyone detests going through the details."
"Here's St. Mungo's, well that's all right. We can leave that. The Society for the Propagation of Pure Bloods in Political Offices, that's gone. The Committee to Ban Inter-Species Marriage, what's that?" Harry looked up.
"It's another one of those hate groups who want the Wizarding lines to remain pure. It should especially interest you." Clarissa explained. "They're against relationships like giant/human, werewolf/anyone, Muggle/Magic..."
"I get the point." Harry said darkly. "Well, that gets a line too. In fact, looking at the rest, everything gets a line except St. Mungo's. Leave it to Mother Black to pick the most repulsive organizations to donate to."
"You'd better come up with some alternatives quickly or you'll bung out a fortune in taxes next year."
"Could you work up the proper letter for me to sign? That is if it doesn't interfere with your travel plans." Harry asked hopefully.
"It'll just take a moment." Clarissa conjured a new piece of parchment and an automatic dictation quill and set it to work. By the time Harry finished crossing out, initialing and signing his name to the last document, she had finished. "Now one last signature and you're all done."
Gratefully, Harry signed the letter and threw down his quill. He stuffed all the official documents into the official envelopes, officially tied the packet to Hedwig's leg and, with his deepest apologies, sent her on her way to London.
"I'm so glad that's over." Harry sighed. "One more signature and I'd have had terminal writer's cramp. So, are you ready to meet the infamous Augusta Longbottom?"
"As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose." Clarissa looked down at her hands. "What's your opinion of her? My great-aunt seems to have mixed emotions on the subject."
"Wow, uh, I've only seen her a couple of times. She's, ah, definitely a force to be reckoned with. From what I've seen and heard of her from other people... she's one tough old bird. I guess she isn't an easy person to get along with. She's very loyal to those she cares about. She's painfully honest about her likes and dislikes, I mean, if you manage to win her over, you'll know. She's put her son and his wife on a pretty high pedestal..."
"...And expects Neville to climb up it." Clarissa interrupted.
"Well, there is that." Harry had to admit.
"It's so unfair! He's good and kind. He's brave, too. And he's brilliant! But she won't see it. Neville's shown me some of her letters. She's furious he's not following in his sainted parents footsteps! On the other hand, she's upset that he's in the Order! She thinks Herbology and teaching as more of a hobby than a vocation. It seems to me Neville never really stood a chance no matter what he did." Clarissa realized she'd said a lot more than what was proper. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have gone on like that."
"It's all right. You haven't said a single thing I haven't thought at one time or another myself." Harry waved off her apology. "Still, give her a chance. One thing I do know about Mrs. Longbottom, she loves Neville. That's got to count for something, doesn't it?"
"I guess that counts for quite a lot." Clarissa sighed. "Well, I'll do my best to keep an open mind, I can only hope she does the same."
Harry was impressed. Clarissa acted every bit a McGonagall, always reserved and proper. He had thought she was as shy as Neville. But there was a good deal of Minerva's backbone in her as well. He almost hoped that someday he would witness Neville's Gran and fiancee having a go at each other. That would be one for the history books.
"I think you'll do fine." Harry grinned.
They were interrupted by an urgent knock on the door. A tiny portrait sitting on Harry's desk of Mercury announced that the person seeking entry was the Headmistress herself. Harry waved at the door to open and McGonagall rushed in.
In her hand was the note written by the mysterious R A B Harry had given her months ago and several old and yellowed parchments. Her eyes were lit with an excitement Harry hadn't seen on her face since they won the Quidditch Cup in his third year. Remembering herself, McGonagall stopped and straightened her hair with her free hand.
"Am I interrupting anything important?" She asked with as much dignity as she could muster.
"Not at all, we've just finished." Harry said, catching her excitement.
"Clarissa, please allow Mr. Potter and me some privacy." McGonagall looked pleadingly at her grandniece. "I don't mean to be rude, but this is for his ears alone."
"Not at all, Aunt Minerva." Clarissa rose from her chair. "Thank you so much for your encouragement, Harry."
"Thanks for helping me slog through all that legal stuff." Harry said.
When Clarissa left and the door shut tight behind her, Harry offered Professor McGonagall a chair.
"I've finally discovered the identity of the author of the note." McGonagall rushed to the point of her visit. "I knew I'd seen that handwriting before. I've been searching all this time, knowing it was a former student, but I thought it was a Gryffindor! Then I came across some of Sirius Black's old papers. The penmanship was close, but not quite right so I searched in a different file and found this! Look! The handwriting is an exact match!"
She thrust the papers at Harry. It was an old term paper about the principles of transforming a non-living object into a live animal. At the top of the page was the date some eighteen years ago and the student's signature, Regulus Black. Harry looked up into McGonagall's excited face.
"I looked up his school records. His parents gave him a middle name to honor his great-grandfather, Arcturus." McGonagall almost shouted.
"Sirius' brother?" Harry could hardly believe it, but there it was.
Professor McGonagall nodded vigorously. "I confronted Phineas and he confirmed it. It's Regulus' handwriting!"
"Which means, I need to start searching Number 12 again." Harry groaned. "If he left a clue in the attic, I might find it. If not, it's in some garbage heap or in a rag and bone man's cart."
"At least we're closer than we were to finding that locket. When do you leave for Number 12?"
"Tomorrow and I'll begin searching the day after Christmas. But I'm sorry, I don't hold out that much hope." Harry rubbed his scar.
"Is that hurting again?" McGonagall asked concerned.
"No, it's a habit I developed whenever I'm frustrated. I seem to do it more often lately."
"Don't give up hope, if you're meant to find it, you will." McGonagall leaned towards him. "And I believe you will. Keep me informed through Phineas. And don't let this spoil your holiday."
"I'll try not to. The Weasleys are in high spirits this year. They're thrice grateful. The twins are healing well, Bill and Fleur are happy, and Percy's returned to the fold." Harry smiled a bit. "I wouldn't do anything to ruin what should be their merriest Christmas in years."
"I spoke to Molly. She's invited the Order to tea on Boxing Day. From what she's been planning, I expect it will be more of a feast than just a cup of Rosy Lea. Hopefully we'll find something soon."
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Harry raced the sunrise to London. His presents and Dumbledore's chest had already been ferreted away at the estate so he wouldn't be weighed down. He'd packed light, nothing more than a backpack under his all-weather robe Hermione gave him for his birthday.
He pushed his Firebolt to its limit. As he streaked across the sky, Harry found relief from the stress that had built up since Halloween. He knew it would be waiting for him on the ground, but among the fading stars and the icy cold wind, there was nothing but the exhilaration of flying. His soul felt clean for the first time in a very long while.
Landing a block away from Number 12 Grimmauld, Harry walked to the hidden manse and quietly crept in. The house was still very dark and quiet. Nobody was up at this early hour. Harry used his wand to light the way to the kitchen. He'd planned this surprise for a couple of days. Molly would either be delighted or furious, but breakfast would be ready and waiting for her when she rose and she wouldn't have to lift a finger.
One thing he had to thank Aunt Petunia for, she taught him how to cook. Although it was a lot more pleasant to do it without her criticizing his every move. It was also nice that he could use a bit a magic here and there to help things along. He hummed to himself as he cooked and set the table. Once, he noticed Kreacher poked his long nose around the door to the furnace cupboard where he slept, but shut the door quickly when he saw that it was his master standing in the kitchen.
Harry was putting the juice and fresh scones on the table when he heard people moving about. Perhaps his timing was that good or they woke to the aromas of coffee and bacon, but he heard footsteps on the stairs as he poured the hot water in the teapot to steep.
The door opened and he heard a small gasp. There was Ginny, tousle haired, no makeup and in her wrap and looking extremely lovely.
"Good morning, Beautiful." Harry set the kettle down just in time to have his arms around her body in a bear hug. Hungrily, he breathed in her scent of springtime and flowers that had been denied him for most of the last few months. Self-consciously, she withdrew and ran her hand through her hair.
"Oh, I must look a sight!" she cried.
"A sight for sore eyes." Harry smiled. "Come here."
Eagerly, she returned to his arms and reached for his lips with her own. Together, they floated in their own little world until the door swung open.
"Oh, it's nobody, Mum." George called over his shoulder. "Just some masher after our sister."
Harry broke the embrace and grinned at George.
"Not just any masher, a masher who cooked breakfast." Harry said.
"Would you look at all this grub?" Fred said as he walked in, stretching out the morning kinks. "Mate, you can have her as long as you keep cooking for us like this!"
"Harry?" Mrs. Weasley entered with her husband. "What's all this?"
"I thought you deserved a treat." Harry said. "Now that these two scalawags are out, I suspect you've done your share of work."
"She's not doing that much," Fred said stuffing his face with sausage.
"We've been playing on Percy's conscience." George poured a glass of juice.
"Every time he's around it's 'Percy, would you mind getting me this?' or 'Percy, could you fix my pillows?'" Fred said in between mouthfuls.
"Yeah, or 'Percy, my back is rather stiff would you run upstairs and fetch me the book I was reading?' We've got him hopping from morning 'til night." George grinned.
"The thing is, he feels so guilty about the last couple of years, he's glad to do it." Fred helped himself to the scones.
"He'll get tired of it one day." Mr. Weasley warned and the walked back to the door yelling. "RON! HARRY'S HERE AND BREAKFAST IS GETTING COLD!"
"DOWN IN A MO'!" Ron hollered back.
Harry cringed, bracing himself for the screams from Sirius' mother, but they never came. Puzzled, he looked from one Weasley to another for an explanation.
"What happened to Walburga?" Harry asked. "Did you figure out how to take her down?"
"Didn't you see the decorations when you came in?" Ginny asked.
"It was still dark and I didn't want to wake anyone up, so I didn't turn on the lights."
Ginny grabbed his hand and pulled Harry off his chair. Leading him into the entrance hall, she waved her arm to present her work. In the corner nearest the stairs was an enormous tree decorated with dozens of handmade ornaments the Weasley children had crafted over the years and accented with fairy lights. Boughs of holly connected the chandeliers. A huge ball of mistletoe hung from the center of the ceiling.
Most wonderful and cheering of all, every stern portrait of the Black family was covered in gaily colored wrapping paper and adorned with bows making them look like Christmas presents waiting to be opened. The curtains covering the insane Black matron were drawn back. Her portrait was similarly wrapped and embellished as the smaller ones lining the hall. It looked much thicker though. Standing very close to it, Harry could barely hear muffled screams and shouts.
"Hermione stopped by on her way to her parents and we decided it was time to invoke a bit of what Morgaine calls Muggle magic. She did some research on soundproofing and we came up with this." Ginny grinned.
"The first layer is made of several dozen egg cartons. Then a layer of what Hermione called foam. The third is an old down mattress we found in the attic. All of that is encased in cardboard and covered with the wrapping paper. You should have seen Kreacher when Dad forbade him to free her until twelfth night! He shook so hard, you'd have thought he was having a seizure!"
"Brilliant!" Harry laughed. "But make sure you're all gone when he lets her go. She'll explode!"
Ginny wiped tears as she laughed. "Dad was in seventh heaven. Hermione showed him how to use a staple and nail gun. He told her that if she and Ron ever broke up, he was kicking Ron out and moving her in!"
On cue, Ron stumbled down the stairs, still half asleep. "Morning." He mumbled and blindly headed for the kitchen.
"I don't think he even saw me standing here." Harry commented.
"Too bad for him." Ginny tossed her head. "He'll figure it out soon enough. Just think, we've ten whole days of freedom. Ten days of not worrying what other people see or think."
"And ten days of this." Harry tilted her head at just the right angle for a very long kiss.
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Narcissa reclined in the window seat of her darkened room, gazing at the snow covered village below. Her long blonde hair was brushed to a sheen and hung down to the small of her back. Her aristocratic features that were so like her son's, retained much of her youthful beauty. The heavy black velvet robe she wore enhanced her pale complexion.
She was calm, almost serene. It seemed once she'd come to her decision, all fear and depression faded away. Soon, she would feel nothing at all. Draco would understand. It was for his sake she was doing this. No longer a pawn, a hostage to be used against him, he could escape. She lifted the goblet filled with a lethal overdose of the Draught of Living Death.
"Narcissa, what are you doing?" Snape asked.
"You already know perfectly well, Severus, or you wouldn't have crept into my room." She answered with a hint of her former haughtiness. "It's rude to enter a room without knocking."
Snape crossed the room and sat next to her. "Don't do this."
"I'm glad you're here. I've a chance to say good bye."
"Narcissa, why? You'll be out of here and home February. You are not suspected of anything. You can resume your life. Think of what it would do to your son." Snape said in a soft, pleading voice that his former students had never had the opportunity to hear.
"I am thinking of my son. With no more fear for my life, he'll be free to run. He'll be free from the Dark Lord's hold on him."
"Regulus ran, Karkaroff ran. Look what happened to them."
"Draco knows how to hide. He can leave the country, change his identity. There are plenty of people who would shelter him. As for my home, why should I want to return there?" Narcissa stared at the night sky, cradling the goblet in her hands.
"There's no one to go home to. I'd be all alone. There was a time when I was treated like royalty. Men would bow to me in the streets. I was the first one served, the first on everyone's invitation list. I carried myself as a goddess and loved it.
"Now, what am I? The widow of a convicted Death Eater. The mother of a murderer's accomplice. No, they wouldn't sentence me to Azkaban but they'll send me off to Coventry soon enough. All I'd have to look forward to would be days of loneliness and isolation. Perhaps I'd go round the bend like dear Aunt Walburga. My only hope to regain anything is if the Dark Lord defeats Potter."
"Don't you mean when the Dark Lord defeats Potter?" Snape said evenly.
"No, I mean if, and I don't care if he hears me. I'll be dead before he can do anything to punish me anyway." Narcissa tossed her head contemptuously. "If he wins, Draco will be honored and put in a position of power. Bella will finally come into her rightful inheritance, the Malfoy name will once again be something to be feared and respected and I will still loose my son. The Dark Lord as much as told me so.
"He plans to take him under his tutelage and mentor him. He said he would give Draco all the knowledge his mentor gave him. He would give him the secret of immortality, the very gift that you refused to accept. My son would become a carbon copy of his master and that I couldn't bear.
"If Potter and the Order succeed, I will remain an outcast and lose my son. Draco and you, my old friend, will either be killed or become fugitives, forever running from those who seek vengeance in Dumbledore's name. So you see, my life has run it course. I only have to stop breathing to complete the journey."
"Can't you see that in killing yourself, you kill your son? He is conducting his most dangerous assignment to date. Draco almost ruined his cover the night his father died." Snape placed his hands tenderly around her two very small ones that were still embracing the deadly goblet. "If he lost you now, he wouldn't have the will to complete what he started. If he fails, he will die. Is that what you want?"
Narcissa shook her head. Huge tears began to role down her cheeks. "It seems there is a flaw in my logic."
"You're tired and you're frightened for your son. You miss the days you were the envy of the Wizarding world. You want peace of mind again."
"Why has it always been you who could see my heart?" Narcissa asked. "Even when we were in school. You looked past the haughty Slytherin girl and saw just scared and lonely little Cissy Black. I should have chosen you, Severus."
Snape lowered his head. "I was unworthy, as you well know. Your parents would have never approved. I would have corrupted the family bloodline; soiled you. Lucius was the ideal choice."
Narcissa laughed bitterly. "Oh yes. The great Lucius Malfoy. A man who needed a beautiful, pure blood wife to show off. But he didn't need me. Did your old comrade ever explain why we've only one son? Because the day I gave birth to him, my husband informed me that since he now had his heir, there was no need to burden myself with more intimate wifely duties. He moved out of the master bedroom and never returned.
"I had his property, money and prestige. I had the respect and position due his wife, but I only had his son to shower my love upon. But he is dead and gone, so I 'll no longer speak ill of him. You, however, are here."
Snape met her eyes. "I still am not worthy of you. Nor can I afford to commit to anyone. I would only cause you more sorrow than you already bear. Don't drink from this goblet tonight. Live for your son. Live for his sake. At least think it over until he returns."
Narcissa waved her hand over the goblet and the draught disappeared. "Very well, I will wait until he returns. I'll watch the signs. I'll think about what you've said."
Snape took the empty goblet and set it down. Gently, he took her hands again in his and turned them palms up. As if in worship, he kissed the center of each palm. His eyes glistening, he gazed at her face. "Thank you, Narcissa."
The door opened again. Bellatrix entered the room. Suspiciously, her eyes took in the couple sitting by the window.
"Cissy? Are you all right?" She asked with an air of accusation.
"She wasn't, but she will be." Snape answered and stood. He bowed deeply over the hand he still held.
"Bella, please understand, I'm quite tired." Narcissa said. "I will explain in the morning. Please excuse me tonight."
Bella said nothing but she looked from Snape to her sister seething.
"Will I see you tomorrow?" Snape asked pointedly.
"Yes, Severus, you will see me tomorrow." Narcissa answered, resigned.
"Then I will bid you good night." He swept past Bella and disappeared down the hall.
Bellatrix caught up to him moments later.
"She's too good for you, you know." she hissed.
Snape stopped his flight but continued to keep his back to her as he answered.
"Yes, Bella, I know."
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"Sirius' brother nicked the locket?" Ron couldn't believe what he heard. He sat on his bed in the same room he and Harry had shared two years ago. Harry had insisted that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley take the master suite. He still couldn't bear the thought of being alone in the lonely old house at night without Sirius. Besides, the portrait of Phineas Nigellus was in that room and he wanted to know if McGonagall needed him as soon as possible.
"It looks like it." Harry put the finishing touches on Ginny's present. It was a pendant crafted in the shape of a heart. Half ruby (his birthstone) and half peridot (her birthstone).
Ron came up to keep Harry company.
"Well, if he hid in here, chances are it's somewhere in the Ministry's Dark Magic disposal." Ron shook the package that contained his present. Tomorrow morning he would find a professional coach's whistle that could be heard above the noisiest crowd.
"It could be sitting in some display case in some museum or school too. You know, if someone recognized it as Salazar Slytherin's. Big historical piece." Harry grabbed the deluxe Rector set and extra batteries for Mr. Weasley. With a flick of his wand, a sheet of gift paper covered with Father Christmas delivering his presents in a red classic mustang convertible obediently wrapped itself around it.
"Any chance it might be hiding in the attic?" Ron said, picking up and examining two flat discs in brown paper envelopes. "What are these?"
"78 LP's." Harry answered, amused at his friend's growing puzzled look. "They're Muggle audio recordings of jazz music for Lupin. He's got that old Victrola and he loves jazz. Think of them as the DVD's great-great-great grandfather."
Ron shrugged and handed them back. "So, what do you think about having a go at the attic? I mean, I don't think anyone made it up there since it was one of Kreacher's favorite haunts."
"Maybe." Harry said. "Let's wait until the after Boxing Day. I want Christmas to go perfect for your folks. If anything happens, I don't want it to happen during the holiday. They've been through enough."
"Hermione will be here by then and can help us look." Ron's eyes widened with glee. "Here now, any of the jugs and bottles for me?"
"No," Harry chuckled. "The bottles are for Tonks." He'd gotten her six different bottles of wine, one for the next six "Night Before's" and a bottle of champagne for their first anniversary.
"What about the jugs?" Ron's eyes gleamed greedily.
"Fred and George. It's Leprechaun brewed Potin. Hagrid got it for me." Harry said. "Don't worry, if they don't share, we can split the one I've got stashed for myself."
The door slowly creaked open. The gnarled old house-elf, Kreacher limped into the room. He stared from his master to his friend with loathing but, to Harry's surprise, didn't utter a word. Trembling as though palsied, he reluctantly bowed low.
"Hello Kreacher, what can I do for you?" Harry asked.
Kreacher's trembling increased, but he didn't mutter his wretched stream of consciousness.
"Kreacher came to welcome his master home. Is there any service that Kreacher may perform for young Master?" The insidious smile on the house-elf made him even more hideous.
"Ah, nothing I can think of at the moment. Er, are you quite well? You're shaking like a leaf!" In spite of himself, Harry was a bit concerned for the little being's health. He certainly didn't want to perform a beheading at Christmas.
"The young Master is very kind to inquire about Kreacher's health. Kreacher is fine. He is very grateful to Master for allowing him to return and serve the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black and its..." Kreacher trembled harder still. "... honorable guests."
Harry raised an inquiring eyebrow at Ron.
"It's your orders, Mate." Ron explained. "You said he wasn't to utter a disparaging remark so he can't. Dad thinks the shaking is because he's bottling it up inside."
"It is a small price to pay, young Master." Kreacher glanced sideways at Harry. "But Kreacher misses his Mistress. She is most distressed, she needs her Kreacher."
"The day after Twelfth Night, nobody will be around. You can free her then." Harry said firmly.
Kreacher bowed and said through chattering teeth, "Whatever Master wishes."
Harry finished wrapping the last present. "That's that. Ready for distribution tomorrow."
"What'd you get Hermione?" Ron asked, still trying to puzzle out his present.
"A journal and a copy of a book that I actually found useful in Potions. It's called, The Magical Properties of Common Plants, Gemstones and Animals. I never thought I'd be recommending a book to her that I've read first. What'd you get her?"
Ron turned a deep shade of red that clashed horribly with his hair. "Well, its the first Christmas I could spend on a lot of presents, isn't it? I guess I got a bit carried away." He began ticking each present off on his fingers. "I sent her a bottle of the perfume she likes, a pair of earrings, a necklace, a tennis bracelet, a couple of books..."
"I get the picture." Harry laughed. "Hey, do you think it's too late to write and ask Father Christmas to leave Regulus' locket under the tree?"
"Worth a shot." Ron shrugged, glad Harry didn't insist on teasing him about his generosity. He surveyed the pile of packages on Harry's bed. "Oy, Harry, I think you forgot one. I don't see anything here for Mum."
"I got one for her. It won't arrive here until tomorrow. Hedwig's bringing it in the morning." Harry explained. He became aware of a faint vibration in the floor underneath him. Kreacher was shaking so hard that it looked as if he'd explode at any moment. Poor thing, he hadn't dismissed him. Evidently keeping his thoughts to himself in Harry's presence for a long period of time was more than the tiny servant could bear.
"It's okay, Kreacher." Harry said. "You can go."
"T-t-t-thank you, M-m-m-master." Kreacher said with relief and scampered away as quickly as his now spastic legs could carry him.
Harry shook his head. "Well, he's definitely taking my orders seriously."
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In his sanctuary, Kreacher huddled in his nest under the old furnace. He hugged his knees. Rocking back and forth, he tried to calm his shaking limbs. Free from the presence of the half blood master and the blood traitor guests, he could put voice to his feelings.
"Kreacher won't. Kreacher won't." He hissed through gritted teeth as he rocked. "Kreacher won't. Kreacher won't. Kreacher won't. Kreacher won't. Kreacher won't..."