Just a head's up. There's a brief mention of underage drinking in this chapter. Realistically, people in the UK start drinking at a very young age. If Harry Potter weren't written as a children's novel, so much more shit would be happening in Hogwarts, just like in real boarding schools.

Alexander was the type of person who, when the month of December came around, exuded the Christmas spirit. He just couldn't help the broad smile on his face as he walked through the castle, much to some of the students' annoyance.

To say the Christmas period was special to him was an understatement. It was the time where Grandfather was home the most often. Eliot always baked several dozen cookies, and Alexander was given the soft, gooey ones that melted in his mouth after the first bite. He, Grandfather, and Eliot would visit Christmas markets and during the evening watch Christmas films until he fell asleep. His stocking would be hung from the fireplace, and he and Eliot would decorate the tree which touched the ceiling. When he was younger, he recalled Eliot lifting him to reach the top of the tree so he could place an ornamental gingerbread house.

This year, his holiday would be spent at Hogwarts. He would have liked to have spent it with his two loved ones, but Alexander supposed the castle wouldn't be too bad. Not according to Hagrid who raved about the food and special desserts. He could see the snow-capped trees of the Forbidden Forest from his dormitory window. Neville worried that Alexander would lean too far forwards and fall to his death.

Alexander could be heard singing songs in the Great Hall or when he walked around the castle. Ron was curious about the muggle songs he belted out. Not many people joined in with him – some threw him withering stares – but Helen appreciated his seasonal joy.

'The boys of the NYPD choir were singing Galway Bay, and the bells were ringing out for Christmas day,' he sang one afternoon.

'Oh my God, I love that song!' Helen squealed as she heard Alexander on his way to the library.

Alexander grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. 'Er, hello, Helen. It's nice to see you again.' For some unexplained reason, he suddenly felt nervous and self-conscious.

'It's nice to see you too, Alexander.'

'H-How do you know that song? I thought you were a Pureblood?'

Helen nodded. 'I am but Nia introduced me to muggle songs.'

'Oh, right…' he trailed off. Alexander racked his brain, trying to think of something to say, but it was as if his mind had gone blank. Luckily, Helen saved him the effort.

'Off to the library, are we?'

'Yeah,' he said, feeling foolish, 'just wanted to get some reading done before the Winter break.'

That wasn't technically a lie. He had just been on his way to the library to meet Harry, Ron, and Hermione for research. Only, the reading was not for school.

'I sometimes wonder how you're not a Ravenclaw,' she admitted with a teasing smile.

His skin tingled when they locked eyes. He wetted his lips and chuckled softly.

'Well – I think the Sorting Hat was somehow involved in that.'

Before Helen could say anything, they were approached by a heavily-muscled fourth-year Slytherin. Alexander bit back his annoyance at the disruption. The fourth-year ran his eyes over Alexander dismissively.

'Helen! Sweetheart, come. I have something to show you.'

'What is it, Johnny?' she giggled and the Slytherin boy's half-crooked smirk promised unknown things.

'Nuh-uh, you have to come and find out, Sweetheart. But I can tell you that it involves mistletoe.' He pulled her along and Helen didn't resist. She waved goodbye to Alexander and the two disappeared, the chimes of their voices trailing off.

Alexander didn't feel like singing anymore. He sat down forcefully on the library chair. Harry and Ron were startled at his sudden arrival.

'You could've warned us, you know,' grumbled Ron.

Alexander shrugged. 'Sure, whatever.'

'What's wrong with you?' demanded Hermione. 'You're usually singing.'

'Ran into Snape, did we?' teased Ron.

Alexander took out his parchment and quills. 'Nothing's wrong. Where are we with Flamel?'

Hermione huffed in annoyance at him ignoring her question. Fortunately, she seemed to let it go. 'Nothing so far. But we'll get there in the end.'

'We may need to try another section, perhaps,' suggested Alexander, his focus shifting to the research at hand.

∞ ϟ 9¾

Not many students stayed over the winter break, but Harry, Ron, and Alexander signed up to stay behind. For Alexander, though, it was less of a choice. His Grandfather was out of the country and Eliot was spending the holidays with his parents. Ron informed them that his parents were going to Romania with his sister to visit his older brother, Charlie, and so the whole Weasley family stayed behind. Harry seemed thrilled to be spending the holiday at Hogwarts which baffled Alexander. What about his family? Surely, his aunt and uncle would miss him?

Hermione, much to Alexander's disappointment, was going home to her parents. He would miss her, but he supposed she likewise missed her parents. She was coming back in January so he would see her then.

There was still plenty to do at Hogwarts. Fred and George would smuggle Fire Whiskey to the common room underneath the teachers' and Prefects' eyes. Alexander, in an impressed tone, asked how they managed to get their hands on it, and the twins, with sneaky grins, told him that they bribed a seventh-year when they went to Hogsmeade. Alexander was curious to know what Fire Whiskey tasted like. Grandfather sometimes allowed him a glass of brandy or wine on special occasions when he hosted parties, but never whiskey. He managed to refrain from having a spluttering, coughing fit after his first sip despite the burn in the back of his throat. The twins burst out laughing at his scrunched-up face. Yet, he found that he quite enjoyed whiskey better than brandy or wine.

Occasionally, when the common room was free, he'd have a book in his lap while he sat by the fire and spent time reading. Other times he would sketch in the book Dean gave him for his birthday. He was no Picasso, but his drawings were decent enough.

One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow, and the lake frozen solid. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail, had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again. As a result, Alexander decreased the number of letters he sent to Eliot because he didn't want Apollo to battle those conditions.

The Weasley twins dared Alexander to bewitch snowballs and throw them at Professor Quirrell's turban, and Alexander, never one to back out of a challenge, accepted.

'Thirty points if you can do it without him noticing,' said Fred.

With a grin, Alexander waved his wand from behind a pillar and three magnificent snowballs rose into the air. With another wave, the snowball hurled across the courtyard and hit Quirrell's turban, right in the back. Quirrell spun around swiftly, his face stormy. Alexander and the twins ran away in peals of laughter before the Professor could identify who the culprit was.

'Brilliant, Alexi-boy!' said Fred. 'I don't think I've ever seen Quirrell that angry before.'

'Reckon he's hiding treasure underneath the turban?' laughed George.

'Or he's scared of being bald,' joked Alexander.

While the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the draughty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classrooms. Professor Snape's classes down in the dungeons, caused the first-years breaths to rise in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons. Alexander was still practising the Hot-Air Charm and had made some progress. He couldn't fully make himself warm for a long period of time but his spell lasted for one hour at the most.

Malfoy was still taunting Harry even after Slytherin's defeat. Potions were the perfect opportunity for the ferret to provoke Harry as Snape for some apparent reason had turned blind.

'I do feel so sorry,' said Malfoy, one Potions class, 'for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home.' He was looking over at Harry as he spoke.

Crabbe and Goyle chuckled. Harry, who was measuring out the powdered spine of lionfish, ignored them.

'And I for one,' sighed Alexander, 'feel sorry for any parents who have to cope with ugly blond ferrets.'

Alexander heard Blaise cover his mirth under a perfectly concealed cough.

'At least I have parents, Laurent,' snapped Malfoy, 'Where's yours? Gave you up as soon as you were born.'

Blaise sharply inhaled and, catching Alexander's eye, shook his head.

Alexander swallowed heavily and did his best to reign in his temper. Malfoy had hit a sore spot though Alexander would never let him know that. Disappointed that he hadn't received a suitable enough reaction from Alexander, Malfoy went back to goading the rest of the Gryffindors.

Malfoy had been even more unpleasant than usual since the Quidditch match. Disgusted that the Slytherins had lost, he had tried to get everyone laughing at how a wide-mouthed tree frog would be replacing Harry as Seeker next. Then he'd realised that nobody found this funny, because they were all so impressed at the way Harry had managed to stay on his bucking broomstick. So Malfoy, jealous and angry, had gone back to jeering.

Alexander left the dungeons at the end of Potions. A large firtree blocked the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound told him that Hagrid was behind it.

'Hi, Hagrid, want any help?' Ron asked, sticking his head through the branches.

'Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Ron.'

Malfoy's cold drawl came from behind them. 'Would you mind moving out of the way?'

Alexander assessed him indifferently. 'No, I don't think I will.'

Malfoy glared. 'You should be careful who you're addressing, Laurent. Your tongue is going to get you into trouble one of these days. Mark my words.'

Alexander was quick to rebuttal. 'Was that your attempt at a threat? Please, I've seen three-year-olds do a better job than that.'

Ron snickered next to him while Hermione suppressed a smile.

Malfoy gritted his teeth at being outwitted by Alexander and unable to think of a comeback, he turned his insults onto Ron.

'I wouldn't be laughing, Weasley. What are you, trying to earn some extra money? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts; I suppose that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to.'

Alexander grabbed Ron's arm promptly before he could dive at Malfoy. It was a good thing he did because at that second Snape came around the corner. Of course, thought Alexander. That greasy bastard just had to come now.

'WEASLEY!'

Alexander let go of the robes. Malfoy smirked in delight.

'He was provoked, Professor Snape,' said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree. 'Malfoy was insultin' Ron's family.'

'Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid,' said Snape silkily. 'Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you.'

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle pushed roughly past the tree, scattering needles everywhere.

'I'll get him,' said Ron, grinding his teeth at Malfoy's back, 'one of these days, I'll get him —'

'Video it and send it to me if you do,' stated Alexander, and Hermione smacked him lightly on the arm. 'What?' he shrugged.

Ron was too angry to ask about the muggle term.

'I hate them both,' said Harry, his voice dripping with disdain, 'Malfoy and Snape.'

'Ah, yes, the dreadful duo. One's got too much grease, the other too much hair gel.'

'Come on, cheer up, yer lot – it's nearly Christmas,' said Hagrid. 'Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat.'

The four of them followed Hagrid and his tree off to the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations. Alexander was lost for words. It wasn't finished yet but it still looked magnificent.

'Ah, Hagrid, the last tree — put it in the far corner, would you?'

Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no fewer than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with several candles.

'How many days you got left until yer holidays?' Hagrid asked.

'Just one,' said Hermione. 'And that reminds me — Alexander, Harry, Ron, we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library.'

Alexander straightened up.

'Oh yeah, you're right,' said Ron, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who had golden bubbles blossoming out of his wand and was trailing them over the branches of the new tree.

'The library?' said Hagrid, following them out of the hall. 'Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?'

'Sure, if you want to look at it that way.' Just like the shining baubles, Alexander's eyes lit up in amusement.

Hagrid beamed. 'Well, it's good of yeh to take your lessons seriously.'

'Oh, we're not working,' Harry told him brightly. 'Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel, we've been trying to find out who he is.'

Alexander grinned at Hagrid's shocked expression.

'You what? Listen here — I've told yeh — drop it. It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'.'

Alexander begged to differ. Not after their encounter with the dog and Snape's suspicious actions.

'We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all,' argued Hermione.

'Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?' Harry added. 'We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere — just give us a hint — I know I've read his name somewhere.'

'Please do,' said Alexander with Ron nodding in agreement, 'I'm sick of having Madam Pince breathing down my neck every time I step foot in the library.'

'I'm sayin' nothin',' said Hagrid flatly.

'More work for us, then,' sighed Alexander, and they left Hagrid looking disgruntled and hurried off to the library.

Truth be told, the four had been searching for the identity of Nicholas Flamel ever since Hagrid let it slip, because how else were they going to find out what was underneath that trapdoor? Particularly if Snape was the culprit trying to steal it. Alexander still had his doubts about Snape but he couldn't voice them because he had no solid evidence. The problem they faced, however, was knowing where to begin. Was Flamel a leader, a teacher, or a philosopher? When was he born and where? All they had was a name to search with.

At times like these, Alexander longed for the technology of the muggle world. A computer database would have found Flamel at the click of a button. But because Hogwarts was stuck in the medieval period, they had to do it manually, which became quite tedious after a while, lugging hefty books around. Then, of course, there was the sheer size of the library; tens of thousands of books, shelves, and narrow rows. Flamel wasn't in Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, or Notable Magical Names of Our Time; he was missing, too, from Important Modern Magical Discoveries, and A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry.

Hermione took out a list of subjects and titles she had decided to search while Ron strode off down a row of books and started pulling them off the shelves at random. Alexander read her list, picked a subject, and grabbed a couple of books off the shelf. There was hardly anyone in the library now apart from a few older students studying for their exams. This may not have been a good thing because it meant that Madam Pince, the librarian, was like an eagle searching for her prey, her eyes constantly on the group.

From the corner of his eye, Alexander spotted Harry wandering over to the Restricted Section, where you needed a specially signed note from one of the teachers to look in there. These were the books containing powerful Dark Magic never taught at Hogwarts and only read by older students studying advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Unfortunately for Harry, the austere librarian discovered him before he could get a chance, and Harry had to leave the library.

'Ah, that's rotten luck,' winced Ron.

Alexander groaned in frustration as he slammed another book shut. A girl from the table next to theirs shushed him with a glare. He threw a contrite glance in her direction.

'We're never going to find him,' he complained.

'Of course, we will,' said Hermione in a clipped tone, barely glancing up from the book she was scouring. 'It's here somewhere, and we'll find it.'

Alexander stared at Hermione. Her brows were furrowed in determination and there was a certain glint in her eye. Taking a deep breath, he picked up another book from the pile and started flipping through the pages.

Unfortunately, they didn't discover anything. They considered that it was better to try again when the library was busy again and Pince wasn't watching their every move. They met Harry outside the library who was staring at them with a hopeful expression. Alexander sadly shook his head and Harry's shoulders slumped. They decided to head to lunch.

'You will keep looking while I'm away, won't you?' prodded Hermione. 'And send me an owl if you find anything.'

'Uh, I can't make any promises but I'll try my best,' admitted Alexander.

'And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is,' Ron suggested to Hermione.

'That won't work, Ronald,' Alexander rolled his eyes, lips tugged up in a smirk.

'Why not?' demanded Ron, 'it'll be safe to ask them.' Ron stared at them as if they were missing something important.

'Very safe, as they're both dentists,' said Hermione, causing Alexander and Harry to snicker.

'They're what?'

'It doesn't matter,' sighed Alexander, picking up his goblet of pumpkin juice. 'The point is that they won't know.'

'It was worth a try,' grumbled Ron in a low tone. 'I suppose that means more work for us.'

∞ ϟ 9¾

The next evening, Alexander, along with Harry and Ron, saw Hermione off in front of the door they entered Hogwarts by. Hermione was bundled up in a thick coat and a woolly hat and scarf. Professor McGonagall was calling the last set of people for the train.

'This is goodbye, I guess,' said Hermione, then in a severe tone that was familiar to the three boys warned, 'remember to not leave your homework after the break. Get plenty of work done.'

'Hermione, please,' moaned Ron, exasperated. 'It is only the first day. Let us breathe.'

She bit her lip. 'Well, alright, then, but make sure to keep searching for Flamel.'

'We will,' nodded Alexander with a fond smile. 'And don't worry, I'll make sure to send an owl. These two certainly won't.'

'Oi!' sounded Harry and Ron.

A thought occurred to Alexander. 'Will you be alone on the train?'

She appeared surprised at his question then shook her head. 'Huh, oh, no. No, of course not. Neville will be there with me and there are Lavender and Parvati as well.'

Alexander relaxed, his worry now dissipated. Still, Hermione wasn't exactly close friends with Lavender and Parvati.

She took a deep breath. 'Okay – I have to go now. I'll see you three after the holidays. Happy Christmas.'

She seemed to be hesitating when taking a swift glimpse at Alexander, and for one wild moment, he thought she was going to hug him again, similar to the one before the troll incident. But she smiled and waved goodbye, her large front teeth glinting in the luminous night sky. It was then that Alexander realised how nice Hermione's bushy hair looked with snow sprinkled like her very own snow-crown.

∞ ϟ 9¾

Once the holidays had started, Ron and Harry were having too good a time to think much about Flamel. Alexander, in his spare time, flicked through some books but his heart was not truly in it. He finished some of his homework except for Astronomy seeing as Hermione wasn't there to help him. The boys had the dormitory to themselves and the common room was emptier than usual, so they were able to get the best armchairs by the fire. Alexander could sing without anyone moaning at him in the castle, though Harry and Ron did mutter sometimes. Hagrid beamed when he heard Alexander and often joined in with a gruff, off-tune voice. Hagrid made up some song lyrics as he went along and Alexander didn't have the heart to tell him it was wrong.

'Ahhh,' sighed Ron as he slumped into the armchair with a content expression. 'No wonder the sixth and seventh years hog these chairs. I could fall asleep on them.'

Alexander agreed and had in fact encountered a few couples that accidentally fell asleep on the armchairs. Their arms and legs had been tangled together causing Alexander to flush in embarrassment. He didn't realise people could be wrapped around each other that close.

The boys sat by the hour eating anything they could spear on a toasting fork — bread, English muffins, marshmallows. Ron taught Harry how to play Wizard's Chess while Alexander read the second-year Charms textbook. Harry was a decent player. Ron, unsurprisingly, won every match though Alexander did come very close to beating him once.

When Alexander awoke early on Christmas Day, to his astonishment, Ron was awake. Ron was always the last out of the boys in the dormitory to get up, unless he was bribed with food. A large pile of presents lay at the foot of Alexander's bed.

'Happy Christmas,' said Ron as Harry also woke up and scrambled out of bed to pull on his bathrobe.

'Happy Christmas, guys,' smiled Alexander and picked up a parcel.

'You too,' said Harry.

For some reason, Harry gazed at his own pile in wonderment as if he'd never seen presents before in his life.

'Will you look at this? I've got some presents!'

'What did you expect, turnips?' said Ron, turning to his own pile.

Alexander chuckled in agreement. Of course, Harry was going to receive presents. Who didn't on Christmas?

The next few minutes were spent with the boys ripping open their own parcels in a haste to get to the gifts. Grandfather Laurent sent him a brand-new feather quill which came from a real phoenix as he mentioned in his note. It must have cost a fair amount because quills like that weren't cheap to obtain. He would send presents but not talk to Alexander directly. Not unless it was a special occasion thought Alexander with a slight hint of resentment. He wondered if the expensive gifts were Grandfather's way of making up for his absence.

His attention was caught by Ron's fascination with one of Harry's present. Harry held a tiny parcel that turned out to be a fifty-pence coin. What in the world? 50p?

'That's friendly,' said Harry.

To Alexander's confusion, Harry appeared indifferent. Perhaps Harry's aunt and uncle weren't very rich? It was hard to make sense of though.

'Harry,' he began slowly, 'you know fifty pence isn't a lot of money.'

Harry shrugged. 'It's better than usual, believe me.'

This didn't do anything to clear up Alexander's puzzlement. Come to think of it, Harry barely mentioned his life in the muggle world. Ron very obviously chatted constantly about growing up the youngest in a family of wizards and witches, and on some occasions, even Alexander would fondly mention Eliot and Grandfather. Harry, however, for some unknown reason, appeared awkward when the subject of his relatives popped up. Before Alexander could voice his bewilderment, Ron spoke up.

'Weird!' he said in a tone of fascination. 'What a shape! This is money?'

'You can keep it,' said Harry, laughing. 'Hagrid and my aunt and uncle — so who sent these?' A lumpy parcel was left on Harry's rather short pile.

'I think I know who that one's from,' said Ron, turning a bit pink. 'My mum. I told her you didn't expect any presents and — oh, no – she's made you a Weasley jumper.'

Harry held his emerald green jumper and a large box in his hand, his face one of pure child-like wonder.

'Alexander, you must have one too – yeah, look, that one,' Ron groaned and pointed to one hidden in Alexander's pile. 'Every year she makes us a jumper.' Ron unwrapped his. 'And mine's always maroon.'

Ron's mum had sent Alexander a thick, hand-knitted jumper in a colour that could accurately be described as Egyptian blue. A letter 'A' was sewn onto the front. Alexander felt his heart swell at Mrs Weasley's gift but his stomach also churned with the guilt of not having sent her a present. He vowed to send Apollo with a thank-you note along with a present later. Eliot always taught him to be grateful for other people's kindness after all.

'That's really nice of her,' said Harry, taking a bite of the fudge.

'Thank you, I really appreciate your mum's effort,' said Alexander, smiling softly.

Ron's cheeks blazed even redder. 'I'll let her know,' he mumbled quietly.

Alexander placed the jumper over his head. It felt warm on his body like he was taking a bath.

A fluid and silvery grey caught Alexander and Ron's attention. It lay on the floor in gleaming folds beneath Harry's feet.

Ron gasped. 'I've heard of those,' he said in a hushed voice, dropping a box of Every Flavour Beans. 'If that's what I think it is — they're really rare and really valuable.'

'I swear that looks like a blanket,' said Alexander, gazing intriguingly at the silvery thing.

Harry picked the shining, silvery cloth off the floor. It seemed like water had been woven into the material and made ripples every time it moved.

'No,' Ron shook his head, rather eager, 'that's no blanket. It's an Invisibility Cloak!'

Ron had such an expression of awe on his face that Alexander suppressed a grin.

'I'm sure it is — try it on.'

Harry threw the Cloak around his shoulders and Ron gave a yell. 'It is! Look down!'

A strange thing occurred. Harry's whole body disappeared and only his head was suspended in mid-air.

'Merde,' whispered Alexander, eyes wide, 'they meant that literally. Harry – hurry, go look in the mirror.'

Harry dashed to the mirror and his jaw-dropped. 'My body's gone!' Harry pulled the Cloak over his head and he vanished completely.

'Who do you reckon sent it?' asked Alexander, his eyes lingering on the spot where Harry was visible a second ago.

'I dunno,' came Ron's voice, then all of a sudden, 'but, look, there's a note that fell out.'

Ron was right. The place where the wrapping lay in tatters on the floor, rested a small paper.

Harry pulled off the Cloak and seized the letter. It was somewhat unnerving to see a whole body appear out of thin air. Harry's eyes ran across the note.

'Does it say who it's from?' inquired Alexander.

'No, there's no signature,' said Harry in a quiet tone.

Alexander fell silent, not sure of what to say. Harry had a peculiar expression.

Ron was admiring the Cloak. 'I'd give anything for one of these,' he said. 'Anything. What's the matter?'

'Nothing,' said Harry.

Ron caught Alexander's eye who shrugged in response. He reckoned it was something to do with the note that Harry was holding.

The dormitory door flung open and Fred and George bounded in, mischievous smirks written on their faces. Their presence broke the somewhat subdued atmosphere of their dormitory. Alexander couldn't help but smile at their contagious joy.

George widened his arms out in a welcome gesture. 'Happy Christmas!'

Fred noticed the jumpers on Harry and Alexander. 'Hey, look — Harry and Alexi-boy have got a Weasley jumper, too!'

Fred and George were wearing light blue jumpers, one with a large yellow F on it, the other a G.

'Theirs is better than ours, though,' said Fred, holding up Harry's sweater. 'She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not family.

'Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?' George demanded. 'Alexander is wearing his. Come on, get it on, they're lovely and warm.'

'He's not wrong,' agreed Alexander.

'You see Ron, Alexander's got the spirit.'

'I hate maroon,' Ron moaned weakly as he pulled it over his head.

'You haven't got a letter on yours,' George observed Harry's jumper. 'I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid — we know we're called Gred and Forge.'

'What's all this noise?' Percy Weasley stuck his head through the door, looking disapproving. He spotted Alexander and his face turned apologetic. 'I apologise for the ruckus my brothers are making, Mr Laurent. Please, do not think bad of us.'

Fred and George caught Alexander trying to hide his grin and seized his hand in a continuous handshake. 'How do you do, Mr Laurent?'

'Very pleased to meet you, Mr Laurent.'

'Can we shine yours and your Grandfather's shoes, Mr Laurent?'

Alexander burst out laughing at the twins' antics. 'Mr Gred and Mr Forge – you're hired. Work begins tomorrow.'

Percy scowled at the twins. He had clearly gotten halfway through unwrapping his presents as he, too, carried a lumpy jumper over his arm, which Fred seized.

'P for Prefect! Get it on, Percy, come on, we're all wearing ours, even Harry and Alexi-boy have one.'

'I — don't — want —' said Percy thickly, as the twins forced the sweater over his head, knocking his glasses askew.

'And you're not sitting with the Prefects today, either,' said George. 'Christmas is a time for family.'

They frog-marched Percy from the room, his arms pinned to his side by his jumper.

The Christmas dinner was fabulous. A hundred fat, roast turkeys, mountains of roast and boiled potatoes, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce. Every few feet along the table lay stacks of wizard crackers. These blasted like a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke. All of the people that chose to remain behind sat on one table.

Alexander waved at a seventh-year Ravenclaw boy who sat alone and flicked through what appeared to be a textbook. He was starting to recognise most of the people in the castle. The boy nodded in acknowledgement and declined Alexander's offer to sit with him.

Up at the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet. Alexander shrugged internally. He'd seen weirder things so far.

Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey. Hagrid became redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek, who giggled and blushed, her top hat lopsided.

Alexander wolf-whistled with the twins.

'Wooo, Minne,' cheered Fred, and earned himself a stiff glance from the Professor. Luckily, the Professor was tipsy enough not to give the three boys detention. Alexander swore he saw a small smile at the corner of her mouth.

They arrived in the common room, cold, wet, and gasping for breath after an intense snowball fight. Alexander's ability to dodge and having an accurate aim helped in his favour. Harry and Ron refused to let Alexander be on the side of the twins because they claimed it wouldn't be fair. Ron, unfortunately, was targeted the most. The roaring and the heat of the fire was a soothing balm to the group afterwards. Following a meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, Alexander went to bed that night, joyful and warm.

∞ ϟ 9¾

Harry, Alexander discovered, went on his own midnight adventure the previous night. Harry recounted what he had seen over the breakfast table.

'You could have woken us up,' said Ron, crossly.

Alexander snorted. 'No one can wake you up, Ron. It's like waking the dead.'

Ron scoffed with a tiny smirk. 'You're one to talk.'

'You can come tonight, I'm going back, I want to show you both the mirror,' Harry proposed.

'I'd like to see your mum and dad,' Ron said eagerly.

'And I want to see all your family, all the Weasleys, you'll be able to show me your other brothers and everyone.'

'You can see them any old time,' said Ron. 'Just come round my house this summer, both of you. Anyway, maybe it only shows dead people.'

Alexander chewed on his lip thoughtfully. 'I don't know, guys. This seems too risky.'

'It'll be fine. What's the risk?' dismissed Ron with a wave of his hand.

Alexander's eyebrow twitched. 'Filch, for one,' he rebutted. 'And we don't know if Harry's Cloak is effective enough to hide all three of us.'

'It is,' claimed Harry and Alexander's brows furrowed. 'I was right in front of Snape and he didn't see a thing.'

Ron lit up again. 'See, Alex. Harry's Cloak will be good enough. Shame about not finding Flamel, though. Have some bacon or something, why aren't you eating anything?'

Harry's plate was empty; he hadn't eaten anything and his eyes seemed hollow. Something about Harry's demeanour unnerved Alexander, causing a sick, heavy feeling to settle in the pit of his stomach.

'Are you sure you're alright, Harry?' prodded Alexander.

Ron nodded. 'You do look odd, mate.'

Harry mumbled that he was fine, yet Alexander didn't believe him. Swallowing his feelings of unease, Alexander kept quiet.

∞ ϟ 9¾

Alexander was awoken slightly after midnight by Harry who held the Cloak in his hand. Ron stood behind Harry, rubbing his eyes, still half-asleep. The three of them hid under the Cloak and followed Harry to find the mirror. Their steps were clumsy and slow in case someone saw them.

They tried retracing Harry's route from the library, wandering around the dark passageways for nearly an hour.

'I'm freezing,' moaned Ron. 'Let's forget it and go back.'

'I'm with Ron. You don't even know where you're going,' snapped Alexander, bleary-eyed from sleep. Astronomy lessons were already a pain to attend at night but they were compulsory. Alexander was close to ripping the Cloak off his head and storming back to his warm, soft covers. He hardly cared if Filch caught him.

'No!' Harry hissed. 'I know it's here somewhere.'

Sighing in irritation, Alexander controlled his urge. They passed the ghost of a tall witch gliding in the opposite direction but saw no one else. Just as Ron started moaning that his feet were dead with cold, Harry exclaimed, 'it's here — just here — yes!'

'Finally,' said a relieved Alexander, yawning.

They pushed the door open. Alexander had to blink to clear his focus. The room appeared like an unused classroom. The dark shapes of desks and chairs were piled against the walls. The main feature of the classroom was propped against the wall facing the three boys; it seemed out of place. It was a fancy mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame, standing on two clawed feet. Alexander had seen smaller, hand-held versions of fancy mirrors when he and Grandfather visited an associate's house, but never one this large. There was an inscription carved around the top: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.

Harry dropped the Cloak, causing the three boys to become visible, and ran to the mirror. Harry's gloomy expression dissipated and, in its place, lay a wide beam of happiness.

'See?' Harry whispered. 'There's my parents.'

Alexander shivered. There was something eerie about the mirror. The only person in the reflection was Harry who gazed hungrily at it as if he could see something Alexander and Ron couldn't.

Ron voiced his thought. 'I can't see anything.'

'Look! Look at them all – there are loads of them.'

Alexander shook his head. He knew this was a waste of his sleep. 'There's no one there,' he spoke sharply, running a hand through his hair.

Ron nodded in confusion, 'I can only see you.'

Harry huffed angrily. 'Look in it properly, go on, stand where I am.' Harry stepped aside, but with Ron in front of the mirror.

This time, Ron stared transfixed at his reflection. 'Look at me!' he chorused.

'Can you see all your family standing around you?' Harry asked in a hopeful tone.

'No — I'm alone, but I'm different. I look older and I'm Head Boy!'

Alexander blinked. What was happening?

'What?'

'I am — I'm wearing the badge like Bill used to, and I'm holding the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup; I'm Quidditch captain, too!' Ron tore his eyes away to look excitedly at Harry and Alexander. 'Do you think this mirror shows the future?'

'No,' said Alexander immediately, causing Ron to deflate in disappointment.

'You don't know that for sure,' argued Ron.

'How can it?' Harry shrugged dismally. 'All my family are dead.'

Alexander stared at the inscription engraved at the top. 'Erised,' he muttered. 'Erised backwards is desire.'

'Desire?' voiced Harry.

'Yes, see the words,' Alexander pointed, 'they're an anagram. The words are written backwards – so they mean – hold on, give me a second.' He ran his tongue along his bottom lip. 'The words are 'I show not your face but your heart's desire'.'

'You can read backwards,' Ron goggled his eyes at Alexander.

'Uh, not really. Just took me a second to figure it out.'

Ron beckoned Alexander. 'Go on, Alex. You have a look.'

More curious than he should have been, Alexander approached the mirror, anticipating what his heart's desire would be. He bit his lip to stop himself from yelping out loud. Behind him, reflected in the mirror, stood Grandfather and Eliot. But they weren't alone because behind them stood two young people that Alexander had never met before in his life. They couldn't have been more than eighteen.

Alexander felt his breath hitch. Grandfather smiled proudly at him while laying a hand on his shoulder while Eliot beamed brightly, throwing his thumbs up. The woman next to Grandfather was beautiful; she had dark brown hair that fell in ringlets onto her shoulder and a cheeky grin that she kept flashing to him and the young man next to her. The man was more taciturn. But there was a fondness in his eyes as he gazed at the young woman. The most shocking thing though was the dark hair of the man and the aristocratic features that appeared like the same ones Alexander saw every time looked in the mirror. A lump rose in his throat and an ache echoed inside his chest.

He stared back and the group disappeared; there was no Grandfather, no Eliot, and certainly not the two young people. The blood in his veins turned icy and he stepped away from the mirror.

'What did you see, Alex?' asked Ron.

'Nothing,' he muttered.

His heart's desire was just that: an idyllic fantasy that vanished as soon as he turned around, like a feather blown by the wind.

Harry and Ron, however, wanted another look in the mirror.

'Let me have another look.'

'You had it to yourself all last night, give me a bit more time.'

'You're only holding the Quidditch Cup, what's interesting about that? I want to see my parents.'

'Don't push me —'

'Shush!'

Alexander's loud hiss broke their discussion.

'Quick!'

They huddled together as Ron threw the Cloak back over them as the glowing eyes of Mrs Norris came round the door. The three stood quite still. After what seemed an age, the cat turned and left.

'We need to go,' demanded Alexander. 'This isn't safe — she might have gone for Filch. Come on.'

Alexander released a breath he didn't know he had been holding as they came out of the room. That mirror was dangerous.

He was right because the next day, Harry was fixated over it.

'Want to play chess, Harry?' said Ron.

'No.'

'Why don't we go down and visit Hagrid?' suggested Alexander.

'No . . . you two go . . .'

Harry sounded like a broken record. 'No' seemed to be the only word Ron and Alexander could get out of him. The two glanced over Harry's shoulder rather worriedly.

'You're thinking about that mirror, aren't you?' Alexander remarked, his tone hard.

Ron sighed. 'I know what you're thinking about, Harry. Don't go back tonight.'

'Why not?'

'I dunno, I've just got a bad feeling about it and anyway, you've had too many close shaves already. Filch, Snape, and Mrs Norris are wandering around. So what if they can't see you? What if they walk into you? What if you knock something over?'

'You sound like Hermione.'

'This isn't a joke,' Alexander scowled. 'Hermione would agree with us if she were here.'

'We're serious, Harry, don't go.'

But Harry had stopped listening to them judging by the glazed over expression on his face. Alexander took Ron aside and informed him that if Harry continues going, he'd get the Headmaster involved. Ron, with heavy resignation, acquiesced.

Alexander needn't have worried because the next day Harry was himself again. Harry asked him and Ron whether they could visit Hagrid. With a wide grin, Alexander accepted.

At first, I was about to write Alexander singing Mariah Carey's bop 'All I Want for Christmas is You' but when I googled it, the song wasn't released until 1994 while the first book's setting is set during 1991.