Chapter Thirty-five: Won't Know What Hit 'Em

I spent the night of Christmas Eve wrapped up in the blanket-pillow-fort that Ginny, Hermione, and I had made. We stayed up until just past midnight, gossiping and scheming and bearing our hearts to each other.

I felt a little uncomfortable with Ginny when she admitted that she'd had a crush on Harry all growing up, but then she confessed that she was starting to see him more as a brother than anything else. When Hermione and I asked her who her new crush was, she turned the same color as a strawberry and refused to say a word, instead bringing the topic to my own crush on Harry and my plan to get him to notice me. It turns out Ginny's many boyfriends were the product of a similar strategy to my own, but she'd mainly chosen boys that Harry didn't really notice so it hadn't bothered him in the way she'd originally hoped. She commended me on my guts at getting a Slytherin to be my fake boyfriend, saying she'd never be able to do that.

Then Ginny told me about how people used to think that Harry and Hermione had been a thing, and things got really weird! Hermione kept saying that she thought of Harry as her brother, but she kept turning pink when she talked to Ginny. I guessed it was because Hermione was really into Ginny's brother Ron and couldn't quite tell her yet while keeping a straight face.

Christmas morning found us still in the fort, our heads in the middle and our feet pointing outward like a three-pointed star. Our presents were stacked on our beds, which quickly ended up full of gift wrapping and tissue paper and ribbon as we tore into the pile. I got a monogrammed black-and-red sweater from Mrs. Weasley, the one she'd been working on almost non-stop since I came to Grimmauld Place six days earlier. From Fred and George, I got a complete set of Skiving Snackboxes, which featured stickers that said "This product was not tested on anyone under the age of seventeen", which made me smile. From Ginny, I got a pair of steam-punk-looking Quidditch goggles that would help me see clearly in any weather. Ron got me a poster of his favorite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons. Hermione got me a book about my father's family, much like the one I'd gotten for Harry. Harry got me a leather jacket that he'd had Professors McGonagall and Flitwick lace with protective charms, which made me blush a little at his protectiveness. Uncle Sirius got me something I hadn't even thought about getting – a Firebolt, just like Harry's, except it had hazel twigs in the tail instead of birch like in Harry's; according to the pamphlet that came with the broom, birch twigs gave the broom more "oomph" when ascending while hazel twigs allowed for more precision when turning.

The two surprises I got were from my Slytherin friends – even Hermione and Ginny stopped opening their gifts to see what I'd gotten from them. Tracey sent me a record set for "West Side Story", a Broadway play that was actually set in my neighborhood back in New York. Theo's gift was in a simple ring box clamped around a letter. The ring inside the box was a delightfully simple snake made out of yellow metal with white and black gems making up the scales and eyes. Theo's letter was written on high-quality parchment and had a return address somewhere in Bristol. It read:

Dear Regina,

I hope this letter finds you having a very Happy Christmas. It's been dreadfully boring here by myself. He's normally so busy with various merchants coming in and out of Bristol that he rarely is home for Christmas. If there were any way we could meet up before going back to Hogwarts, I would be indebted to you!

The ring has no doubt attracted your attention by now. It's a small family heirloom, likely belonging to my mother or grandmother at some point. In case you're wondering, the ring is fourteen karat gold with forty-four white and two black diamonds. I actually had it appraised in a Muggle jewelry shop, and they said it was worth £420, which is about $550, I believe. Don't worry, I made certain this ring gives you much more than a pretty jewel for your finger. It has protective enchantments laced into each jewel, allowing you to deflect most offensive spells and consume foods with minor poisons without harm.

I'm not giving this to you as a romantic gift, though you can tell everyone that I am. I've been hearing whispers around some of the older Slytherins about targeting you for an ambush at some point. You may not be my type romantically, but you are one of the few people I can call "friend" and I will do everything I can to protect you. The ring's protection isn't infallible, however, so make sure to always go about Hogwarts with at least one companion and keep your wand in an easy-to-reach place at all times.

Owl me as soon as you can to set up a meeting in London somewhere. You can tell everyone that it's a "date", but I really just need to get out of the house before I start using the portraits for company.

Wishing you Happy Holidays,

I remain,

Theodore Nigellus Nott

Heir Apparent of House Nott (bloody hell, you don't care)

My eyes almost bugged out of my head when Theo mentioned how much the slender ring was worth, but the description of protective enchantments on the ring made my stomach sour slightly. That feeling went away at Theo's declaration of friendship, and the warmth in my belly became a laugh at how Theo was almost begging for some human contact sometime between now and the end of Break.

The girls and I spent about an hour opening and comparing and thanking each other for gifts before getting dressed in the sweaters Mrs. Weasley knitted for us. Ginny was in red and gold horizontal stripes with a black "G", Hermione was in pink with brown dots and a white "H", and I was in solid red with black trim around the hems and in the "R" on the front. It actually felt really soft and warm, not at all like the awful scratchy sweaters I'd heard about. Hermione helped me roll my sleeves up and told me to hold up my right hand as much as possible to show off Theo's ring.

When we left to go downstairs, I noticed the wrapped present Hermione held in her arms.

"Who's that for?" I asked as Harry and Ron joined us.

"Kreacher," Hermione said with a smile.

"It had better not be clothes," Ron warned. "You know what Sirius said, Kreacher knows too much, we can't set him free!"

"It isn't clothes," Hermione said bracingly. "It's a patchwork quilt, I thought it would brighten up his bedroom."

"What bedroom?" Harry asked as we passed Grandmother's portrait. As they continued on, I walked up to the curtains and said quietly, "Merry Christmas, Grandmother!" I got a contented hum from behind the curtain for my troubles, and I hurried off to the kitchen, where the others were looking in a cupboard off of the kitchen, where a boiler was stored. I walked up behind them and shuddered at what I saw. Kreacher had apparently made himself a nest out of rags and smelly old blankets that probably hadn't been washed in decades. In a corner behind the boiler, I saw something shining in the light we were letting in to the cupboard.

"What's that back there?" I asked.

Harry leaned forward to see and said solemnly, "Things that Sirius wanted thrown away."

"Thrown away?!" I repeated. "Like what?!"

"Basically anything to do with the family," Ron said. "He wants to purge the place."

I frowned at Sirius's rather immature attempt to get rid of things that had loads of history because they were connected to the family he didn't want to be a part of. I looked over Harry's shoulder and saw rings, seals, old artifacts, and even photos held in silver frames and shattered glass. One particular picture seemed to be Kreacher's favorite: one of a glamorously beautiful but haughty-looking woman with dark curls and heavy-lidded eyes. There was something about her that was kinda familiar, though …

"Hey, guys," I mused. "That woman, do you think … she looks a bit like me?"

Hermione immediately began perusing my features and those of the woman, Ron looked really confused and looked at me like I was crazy, and Harry gave a slight shrug as he glanced at her and me.

"She looks … related," Hermione said, "but not enough to have a direct relation. Her jaw is broader than yours, and her eyes are smaller. I wonder how you're related …"

"She's Sirius's cousin," Harry said. "Bellatrix Lestrange. She's a Death Eater, she's in Azkaban right now."

I felt a little chill run down my spine as I wondered what that meant about Kreacher that he obviously loved her so much that he would mend the shattered glass over her photo and put it up front where he could see it as he fell asleep.

"I think I'll just leave his present here," Hermione said uncomfortably as she put the quilt on top of the nest and shooed us out of the cupboard before closing the door.

"Just curious," Uncle Sirius said as he came out of the pantry carrying a massive turkey, "has anyone actually seen Kreacher lately?"

"I haven't seen him since the night we came back here," Ginny said as she followed him in with some spices and vegetables. "You were ordering him out of the kitchen."

"He couldn't have left, could he?" Harry asked, suddenly looking anxious. "I mean, when you said 'out', maybe he thought you meant 'get out of the house'?"

"No, no, house-elves can't leave unless they're given clothes," Sirius said confidently. "They're tied to their family's house."

"Didn't Dobby leave the Malfoys to warn you?" I asked Harry, remembering Harry's stories.

Harry nodded. "He had to punish himself afterward, but he managed it."

I hummed in disapproval. "Very Slytherin of that critter," I said. "What exactly did you say, Uncle Sirius?"

"… I just said 'out'," Uncle Sirius said, looking more and more worried.

I frowned before remembering Winky and the promise I'd made her.

"Well, if he has left," I said, "I know a certain little elf who would love to have a place here!"

"Oh yeah?" Uncle Sirius asked as everyone except Harry gave me a confused look. "Who?"

"Her name's Winky," I said, ignoring Hermione's affronted gasp. "She was let go by … uh, Mr. Crouch, I think, and she has expressed a desire to come here. She says she knows Kreacher, that he's not keeping the house clean and not honoring his master. She actually said he doesn't keep secrets well."

"And does she keep secrets?" Uncle Sirius asked.

"We tried last year," Harry said. "We asked about Mr. Crouch, but we couldn't get anything out of her, even when she was drunk."

"Drunk?" Uncle Sirius asked, sounding a little disappointed.

"She's getting better at that, actually," I said quickly. "I saw her a week ago, and she said she hadn't had a drop of butterbeer since she told us about the Room of Requirement. She's a really good cook, too! She made these little Peppermint Toads, and they were amazing! I think she'd do well here; she could work with Kreacher until he finally kicked the bucket, and then she'd take his place."

Uncle Sirius looked at me searchingly for a moment before nodding.

"That actually sounds like a good idea," he said. "Not to mention she could keep an eye on Kreacher for me, make sure he wasn't sneaking out."

"She'd do that in a heartbeat if it meant she'd have someone to serve," I said before nervously glancing over at Hermione. "Maybe you could, um …talk to her about payment for her service? Maybe start at what Dumbledore's offered Dobby: a Galleon a week and one day off a month! That way, she won't be enslaved to you but she can still work here!"

To his eternal credit, Uncle Sirius nodded slowly as he considered the idea.

"It's not like I can't afford to pay her," he said musingly. "If she's willing to work here, I could definitely do that!"

"Thank you!" I cried, grinning from ear to ear as I ran to give him a hug. "You won't regret this, Uncle! Trust me!"

"If it gets you to smile like that, I don't think I will!" he said, squeezing me tight. "How'd you like the broom, princess?"

"It's beautiful!" I gushed excitedly. "I can't wait to see how she flies!"

"What'd he get you?" Harry asked.

"A Firebolt," I said with a grin, "with hazel twigs instead of birch, like yours!"

"Brilliant!" Harry said, grinning as widely as I was. "At least there will still be a Firebolt on the team!"

"Oh, the other teams won't know what hit 'em!" I chuckled as I gave Uncle Sirius an extra squeeze.

"Princess, forget about the other teams!" Uncle Sirius chuckled. "The world won't know what hit 'em!"