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the holidays

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December 1938

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Hogwarts is quiet during the holidays. The hallways have grown colder due to the absence of students in them, and Harry finds himself more relaxed with only Tom around. There's less pressure to be watchful, to keep an eye out for the little nuances in their classmates' behaviours. There's less of a need to try and anticipate the things he ought to be saying and thinking and doing.

Tom seems more himself too, much to Harry's relief. He's less restrained when there is only Harry around—the distant, pleasant expression that Tom has worn so often since they came to Hogwarts has faded away in time for the holidays. The familiarity of Tom's unfiltered personality is welcomed by Harry, who had only been allowed snatches of it during the busyness of the school term.

Their typical snarky banter has also resurfaced in the space left behind by their classmates. Tom rolls his eyes and makes droll, biting comments, to which Harry responds delightedly with as much sarcasm as he pleases. And he can tell Tom is enjoying himself, because he smiles more—his real smile, the one that Harry likes to think is reserved for only when it's just the two of them.

Overall, it's nice to be practically alone at Hogwarts together. It lets Harry look forward to the possibility of entire summers spent here at the castle, soaking up the sun and enjoying the magical atmosphere.

Aside from relaxing, Harry also spends a lot of time catching up on the extra readings that Tom's been doing. While he doesn't have enough time to read everything, Tom knows well enough what to pick out and shove in Harry's direction. So Harry reads up on wizarding culture, on the various departments located in the Ministry, on the underage wizarding laws. All of it is actually very interesting, much to Harry's surprise, even if some of the books are a little difficult for him to read. Tom has even placed bookmarks in all the most important chapters and passages, so Harry can get straight to the main points without having to struggle through the rest.

He and Tom also spend a lot of time in the common room, reading side by side. It's a pleasant activity that lets Harry feel like he's being useful, that he's doing his share by learning enough to keep up with Tom's constant streams of speculation and discussion. If Harry knows more, then he can help Tom talk through his ideas properly, instead of Tom having to stop and explain things to him all the time. Tom already essentially tutors Harry through some of their classwork, and Harry would hate to fall behind on anything else.

When they'd gotten their marks, Tom had gone over them in great detail. Of course, while Tom was good at everything, it seemed Harry's strengths lay in Defense Against the Dark Arts and, shockingly, Potions. Harry hadn't expected to be very talented at anything specific, let alone in a class where Tom was the clear favourite, but Harry's Potions marks were nearly as good as Tom's were. And, best of all, Professor Merrythought had written down that Harry had an aptitude for Defense! So Harry is feeling fairly good about being a proper wizard, and is even hopeful that someday he won't need to ask for help at all.

With Christmas looming near, Harry finds himself with a new problem, albeit a less stressful one. The issue is, Harry badly wants to be able to get gifts for Tom, Annalise, and Septimus, but he's not sure how to do so. His plan has been to ask Professor Dumbledore for help or advice, but he's not sure how to accomplish that without Tom around.

However, the perfect opportunity presents itself when Professor Dumbledore approaches the Gryffindor table during breakfast one day, coughing delicately to get their attention. While most of the professors have gone home for the holidays, Professor Dumbledore has remained at the castle and been present during most of the meals.

"Mr. Evans," Professor Dumbledore says. "If you would be so kind as to stop by my office after breakfast, I believe I have an item I need to return to you." Their Head of House is wearing the navy blue robes from the day of their Sorting. Under the bright morning sun that shines down from the enchanted ceiling, the fabric is brilliantly luminescent.

"Yes, sir," Harry says politely, blinking to clear the sudden spots in his vision.

"Very good." And then Professor Dumbledore inclines his head at both Harry and Tom before departing once more.

As Professor Dumbledore reseats himself at the staff table, Harry turns to look at Tom. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Of course not," Tom says. "I want to know what he has to say about the letter. I'll see you back in the common room once you're done."

So after finishing his eggs, Harry bids Tom a temporary farewell and heads to Professor Dumbledore's office. He gets lost along the way and has to ask a portrait for directions, but eventually he finds himself in the correct place and knocks on the door that lists Albus Dumbledore, Head of House Gryffindor and Transfiguration Professor.

The door opens of its own accord, revealing Professor Dumbledore standing behind his desk. The square-shaped room isn't overly spacious, but everything is nicely organized, making the room look larger than it is. Harry glances around at the tall bookcases and neat stacks of parchment. The scholarly look of the tidy room reminds Harry unexpectedly of Tom.

"Hello, Mr. Evans. Welcome to my office," Professor Dumbledore says, smiling. "Won't you please have a seat?"

Harry settles into the comfy maroon chair in front of the large desk and waits politely for Professor Dumbledore to speak. He wonders, idly, if this office was the very place that Professor Dumbledore had first written about his discovery on dragon's blood.

"I have run a number of spells on your letter," Professor Dumbledore says. He pulls one of the drawers in his desk open, retrieving Harry's letter from it. "Unfortunately, I have no further information to share with you. Truly such a fantastical mystery I have not seen in many years, Mr Evans."

"But you're sure it wasn't you who wrote it, sir?" Harry asks doubtfully. It's difficult to believe that Professor Dumbledore would be unable to find any insights. If Professor Dumbledore couldn't find anything, what hope could he and Tom have?

"While this was penned by a Professor Dumbledore, I can assure you that it was not my hand which wrote this letter." Professor Dumbledore then offers the letter out to Harry.

"Oh," Harry says, taking the letter back. "Should I be worried, professor? Of this… Lord Voldemort person coming after me?"

Professor Dumbledore shakes his head. "I have heard of no such person, lord or otherwise. But I will assure you that you are most safe and protected behind these walls, Mr. Evans."

"I know that, sir," Harry says. 'Hogwarts: A History' had called Hogwarts the safest place in Wizarding Britain, and Harry wholeheartedly believes it. He can think of no place where he feels safer than he does at Hogwarts. "It's just, well, I think Tom was a little worried, and it'd reassure him to know that you think it's not an issue."

"That is very considerate of you, Harry." Professor Dumbledore's eyes twinkle for a moment. "Is there anything else you'd like to ask me?"

"Well," Harry begins slowly. "I was wondering, sir, if you had any ideas on how I could make presents for my friends using magic? If it's not too much trouble, maybe you could show me a Transfiguration spell, something like that."

"Ah," Professor Dumbledore says, leaning forward. "You do justice to Hufflepuff, Mr. Evans, with your loyalty."

Harry doesn't think it's particularly loyal to want to have presents for your friends on Christmas, but he figures it's probably rude to say so to his Head of House.

"Thank you, sir," Harry says.

"Firstly, however, I should like to extend my congratulations to you on such a wonderful scholarly placement this term." Professor Dumbledore smiles, and Harry feels almost guilty, because the only reason he'd done so well was because Tom had helped him.

"Secondly," Professor Dumbledore continues, "I am pleased to inform you that I have just the spell to help you…"

"So, what did he say?" Tom asks immediately upon seeing Harry enter the common room.

"He doesn't know anything," Harry says honestly. He plants himself down in the armchair opposite Tom's. Another benefit of the empty school is they can sit where they like. Tom is perched imperiously in his own armchair, a small stack of notes on the table next to him.

"Or so he says," Tom replies darkly. Then he looks over at the roaring fireplace. "I wouldn't be surprised if he had found something, and had simply chosen not to tell us because he thinks we're too young for it."

Harry shrugs. He doesn't have an opinion one way or the other, but he does think that Professor Dumbledore is more trustworthy than Tom makes him out to be.

"Either way, it's as I suspected. We'll just have to keep seeking answers on our own."

"Yeah," Harry says, and he's a little disheartened to realize that, though he's not sure why. It's always been him and Tom doing the important things together, because Tom is the one person Harry can rely upon to help him no matter what. Even when Tom had been mad at him, they'd still gone to Diagon Alley together. And Tom had forgiven him, which Harry hadn't quite felt he'd deserved, but he'd been infinitely glad that it had happened, because he couldn't imagine going to Hogwarts without Tom to support him.

"Anyhow," Tom says, sitting up. "I've got some articles I really think you should read. There is a dark wizard out there, only by the name of Gellert Grindelwald."

"Oh?" Harry asks, now curious. "Do you think he calls himself Lord Voldemort, too?"

"I don't think so. He wants to dominate all the Muggles, turning them into a subservient social class. There's no talk about anything to do with Muggleborns. It's about those who have magic and those who don't. He has a base called Nurmengard Castle that's located in Austria." Tom pulls a few worn-looking articles out of his bag, which he passes over to Harry. "He was abroad in America over a decade ago."

Harry flips the papers open to look at the headlines. "Ten years is a long time."

"He's not very good at what he does, is he?" Tom says flippantly. 'Though I suppose trying to take over the world requires a bit more effort than most endeavours."

"I suppose," Harry echoes.

"If it's just him to worry about, I think we're safe," Tom decides. "We're not Muggles, and if anyone does come looking at Wool's, we'll have plenty of proof that we're wizards."

"That reminds me," Harry says. "Professor Dumbledore said that he doesn't think that Lord Voldemort is an issue. So I think we're likely safe from him as well. Though I guess," he adds reluctantly, "he might have said so just because he thinks we're too young to handle it, like you said."

Tom nods. "I don't think we can rely on Professor Dumbledore for anything, Harry. Even if he does mean well, as an adult responsible for our safety he's likely not to tell us anything."

"You're right," Harry says somberly. "Not for the important things." While the adults here at Hogwarts are nicer, kinder, more lenient than the ones from Harry's old orphanage, Harry knows better than to wait for adults to help him when he really needs it.

Harry folds the articles back up and places them into his bag. "Anything else?" he asks.

"We should go use that classroom on the fifth floor after dinner," Tom says. "So I can finally test my theory."

So that evening finds Harry and Tom replicating the marshmallow incident in the unused classroom. The classroom has a musty smell to it, but is mostly clear of dust and dirt. Tom and Harry set their things onto one of the many student desks, and then they get to work. It doesn't take long for them to confirm Tom's suspicion as fact.

As they watch the baked squash they'd taken from dinner burn to a charred lump upon the stone floor, Tom reaches over to grab Harry's elbow.

"See?" Tom says, greedily watching the fire. "It's more powerful when we do it together."

Harry looks down at the wand in his hand, and then looks at the flames. He can feel his wand humming slightly, the pulse of magic within it buzzing against Harry's fingertips. But there's a chill moving slowly down his spine, coating it in ice. Harry doesn't like looking at the fire too long. It reminds him of other things.

"Yeah," Harry says absently, forcing himself to stare at the wall, where his and Tom's shadows are clearly visible. He can easily tell which one is which, because Tom is taller and his hair lies flat.

Eventually, Tom puts the fire out with his wand ("Aguamenti.") and runs them both through a few more spells. The Levitation Charm makes the lump of burnt squash smack into the ceiling, and the Softening Charm turns its consistency to that of a melted marshmallow.

"I wish we could practice more offensive spells, too," Tom says, looking thoughtful as he examines their handiwork. "More hexes and curses and the like. All we do in Professor Merrythought's class are defensive spells. I don't think shooting some colourful sparks from our wands is going to be a very strong deterrent to anyone with half a brain."

"We'll get an opportunity eventually," Harry says.

"I'd like to be sure I'm doing it right, though," Tom insists, starting to pace the room. "Imagine if we ran into some bullies in the corridors? It would be tantamount to idiocy to cast an offensive spell for the first time in that kind of scenario. If we're going to be the best at magic, then we need to practice everything, not just defense." Clearly, Tom has given a lot of thought to his argument. "We can start with some simple ones, like Diffindo. It's not covered until next year, but I'm confident we'll be able to do it."

"Well, okay," Harry says. There is no way for them to practice any offensive spells on people outside of class, so it probably will be fairly safe if they only practice on objects here in this classroom.

"Besides," Tom adds, stopping in front of Harry. "They'll be useful in the Muggle world too, once we're allowed to do magic there. I've been reading about all kinds of useful spells—we won't have to worry about finding a place to live or anything. Wizards can make things like tents bigger on the inside, too. Or we could find a house, bewitch the Muggles to move out, and make the entire thing disappear from sight."

"But only when we've gotten rid of the Trace," Harry says carefully. He's not sure what to think of Tom's idea, because it's not exactly honest, but having a place of their own does appeal to him. Perhaps someday they could have a place that felt like Hogwarts.

Tom frowns. "Well, yes. It would be nice if we could do that now, because then we wouldn't have to go back to Wool's at all. Perhaps I'll approach Genie or Nathaniel after break, just to see if they know anything about any students remaining over the summer. That way I don't have to ask Professor Dumbledore first."

Harry doesn't much want to go back to Wool's anymore, either. Before they'd left for Hogwarts, Harry couldn't have imagined ever having a place he wanted to call home. But Hogwarts, with its comfortable beds, warm fireplaces, and cheerful inhabitants, is what Harry imagines a home ought to feel like.

"I hope we do get to stay." Harry sighs, glancing around at the classroom they are in. Even in this cold, unused room, Harry feels a certain level of fondness towards the stone walls and their tarnished candle holders. Hogwarts has its own magic within its walls, and Harry thinks he can feel it well enough to know that when he leaves, its absence will be noticeable.

"If we don't," Tom says, his expression serious. "Then I'll take care of us, Harry. Like I always have." And Harry knows, with more sureness than he's ever felt, that he believes in Tom's promise.

Annalise and Septimus show up in the Gryffindor Common Room a half hour before they are all due for Professor Slughorn's Christmas party.

"Professor Dumbledore said we could use his Floo and come here, because he knew we were planning to attend together," Annalise is saying. Her dress is a bright, shimmering red, and there are matching red ribbons in her hair. She's also wearing a pair of white silk gloves that glow faintly with reflected firelight.

Septimus, on the other hand, is wearing a plain set of dark navy robes, and his hair is slicked back into a style Harry's never seen him wearing before. Septimus is also holding himself more stiffly than usual, like he's unused to being dressed so formally.

Harry takes a moment to mentally thank Miss Hannah for convincing him and Tom to purchase more clothes. As it is, what Harry is currently wearing still comes across as more casual than formal, but it's still much nicer than what he usually wear to class.

"Kind of neat that Professor Dumbledore knows we're friends," Septimus says.

"Neat," Harry echoes. Then he adds, "Will Professor Dumbledore be at the party tonight?"

"I think he mentioned stopping by," Annalise says. She's fussing nervously with the lines of her dress as she talks, as though distracted. "But not for very long. I suspect Professor Slughorn may try to keep him, though. Everyone's been talking about his publication on the twelve uses of dragon's blood."

Tom sniffs. "That's nice for him."

"I've got presents for you both, as well," Annalise says to Harry. "They're in my purse, so remind me if I forget later."

"My mum says she'll be sending something along when it's closer to Christmas," Septimus adds, not wanting to be left out. "So you can keep an eye out for an owl."

Harry smiles. "That sounds really nice, thank you."

"By the way," Annalise adds. "Adelaide and I told our parents about the fall term rankings. I think they might be more understanding about us all being friends, now."

"Excellent," Tom says. "Will your mother be attending tonight? I know Professor Slughorn mentioned her before."

"No, she won't be." Annalise shakes her head quickly. "She was... one of Professor Slughorn's favourites. He was her Potions professor from her OWL year until she graduated, so they keep in touch. But our mother, well, she's only a housewife. Professor Slughorn likes that she's well-connected, but all she really has is her social standing." Then Annalise winces, as though worried she'd said too much.

"All good," Septimus says, snorting. "Who'd want their mother attending something like this, anyways? Great way to get embarrassed, if you ask me."

"Our brother is coming, however," Annalise says. "So I suppose you'll finally be introduced properly. Just make sure to make it brief, and don't talk about any of the things we do together."

"Well, alright," Septimus says. "Any particular reason, or is he just a nosy git?"

"He's a nosy git," Annalise says, then laughs nervously. "I mean, he's alright. But I don't want him to go telling my parents. I don't think they know how much time we spend studying together."

"Who do they think they spend all your time with, then?" Tom asks rhetorically. "Yourself?"

"I've told them about Septimus," Annalise says uncomfortably. "And I mentioned Diggory and Chang, because their families are also pureblooded, even though they're not old families. But—Adelaide and I, our parents—they're really not that bad! I just want some time for them to warm up to the idea, is all."

"It's fine," Harry reassures her. "They'll come around soon enough, right?"

"I'd think so," Annalise says, though she sounds unsure.

"We should head down soon," Septimus says, checking his watch. "My dad said we ought to be at least ten minutes early. That way people see you first when they come in. No one else really knows us, so at least we'll look like we're a decent enough sort to be early, if not important enough to get away with being late."

So the four of them fall into line, with Tom and Harry in the front, and Septimus and Annalise walking together just behind them. Harry adjusts his robes a bit more, and then makes a last minute attempt to flatten his hair. Tom had tried to help him earlier, but it seems Harry's hair has a mind of its own, holiday party or no.

"You look fine," Tom murmurs under his breath, so that only Harry can hear. In the background, Septimus is asking Annalise about her family's plans for Christmas.

"Thanks," Harry says, though he doesn't really believe it. He tries to tug at his robes again, but is stopped by Tom's hand grasping onto his wrist.

"Relax," Tom says gently. "It's the holidays, Harry. We're going to have a good time."

So Harry takes a deep breath, tries to smile, and refocuses on walking forward, comforted by the pressure of Tom's hand holding onto him.

A/N:

happy finals season (i have a final today lol)

i'm hesitantly estimating maybe... three to four more chapters for first year, and then we'll be moving on. really it just depends on how much my characters run away with me when i'm wrapping this year up.

second year will definitely be a lot shorter than first year, and will only feature three or four major events, based on my plotting so far.