It began one winter morning when Hogwarts awoke and found that they were covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and snow-dusted the very top layer of ice. The Weasley twins preoccupied themselves by bewitching snowballs and bouncing them off the back of Professor Quirrell's turban, which they were later punished for.

For days, Ciara suspected what was happening, and now, after the letters, the owls rushing in and out, the decorations, and all of the other students buzzing in their seats in excitement, her suspicions were finally confirmed.

Christmas was coming.

Holidays at Malfoy Manor were always... complicated for Ciara. She could vaguely remember two Christmases that didn't end in total disaster and even then, they were...sketchy at best...

She remembers how angry her mother would get and she would often spend the nights in Draco's room instead of her own. She remembers how frustrated Lusiuc would get and how he seemed to age ten years in the span of a few months. The only fond memory she had was of Narcissa dressing her up in gowns for the guests that would come over, all of the other pureblood maniacs.

All of Lord Voldemort's followers.

All of the people who could see she was nothing like her parents.

At the time, no one would hurt her. They would frown at her when she made a kind decision and scowled her if she thanked the house-elves. They would make snide comments about her actions but her mother would always stop them by saying, "She's only a child. She will learn."

Ciara never learned.

So while the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors had become bitterly cold and icy.

This was nothing new to Ciara, given she lives in a basement. But everyone else was deeply affected by the turn of events. While students threw on as many layers as they could, Ciara walked around in her school uniform like there weren't mountains of snow outside.

But despite her resistance to the cold, even Ciara had to put on layers when going to Snape's class down in the dungeon. Their breath rose and fogged the air as their breathed and they all huddled as close to the hot cauldrons as possible.

"I do feel so sorry," said Draco 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 at Harry as he said this, but Harry, suddenly deciding to be a pacifist, ignored him in favor of measuring out his powdered spine of lionfish.

Ciara however... Ciara wasn't that merciful.

She immediately popped her stool back and leaned against the table behind her. Ignoring Hermione's angry hiss, she stared at her cousin with a cold, calculating eye.

"Who's to say they don't want the family Malfoy," she raised her brows and looked at his hair, "Or is all that hair gel making it hard to think?"

He stayed quiet for the rest of class.

The Great Hall looked immaculate, all of the trees decorated in white and gold, their ornament shining and glowing in the firelight. Some were sparkling with tiny icicles and some glittering with hundreds of candles. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls. The students and teachers were all smiling and laughing, everyone seeming to be enjoying the holidays.

Except for Snape. Snape doesn't like anything.

Ciara glanced around at the Great Hall, smiling along with everyone else.

Maybe Christmas this year wouldn't be so bad...

She made her way over to her trio of friends and Hagrid, who was carrying the last tree that was to be put up.

"The library?" Hagrid asked. "What could you be looking up just before the holidays?"

Ciara sighed exasperatedly, Not this again...

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

"You what?" Hagrid asked, so shocked he nearly dropped the tree. "Listen here — I've told yeh — drop it. It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'."

"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," said 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. Ciara can say the same."

Ciara blushed at the mention of her name.

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

"Just have to find out for ourselves, then," said Ron, and they left Hagrid looking disgruntled and hurried off to the library.

Ciara was slightly frustrated over the fact that they haven't found Flamel yet. They've searched through countless books (Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century and Important Modern Magical Discoveries to name a few) and there still isn't one thing that could hint to them who Nicholas Flamel might be.

After hours upon hours of searching, and coming up empty handed, Ciara headed back towards the library door, where she met the other three. Their hopeful looks were dashed away by the shake of her head. They went off to lunch, disappointment and hunger sitting heavily in the stomachs.

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

"And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is," said Ron. "It'd be safe to ask them."

"Very safe, as they're both dentists," said Hermione.

Ciara couldn't ask what dentists were before Hermione had left.

✨?￢ﾚﾡ

However, Nicholas Flamel was forgotten by the trio when the holidays began. Everyone else in their year had gone home for the holidays, so Ciara, Ron, and Harry had their dorms all to themselves. As they grabbed the good armchairs by the fire, they would est anything they could spear with a toasting fork (bread, English muffins, marshmallows ) all while plotting ways to get Malfoy expelled.

Well, Ron and Harry did. Ciara just sat there and frowned at them in disapproval.

"So, what do you think you will get for Christmas," Ron asked as his knight destroyed one of Harry's pawns. Ciara sat next to the table, watching the chess match in the light of the fire. Ciara shrugged, "Knowing my mother? Probably death threats. Maybe a howler, shouting about how much of a disappointment I am if she's in a good mood."

She said it nonchalantly, like it was completely normal for that to happen.

Well, for her, it was. But that's not the point.

Ron stared at her, completely horrified and it only got worse when Harry spoke. "Probably nothing. The Dursleys don't really like me very much. Pawn to E4."

Ron stared at them in unconcealed horror, his mouth open and his eyes widened in shock. His new best friends? Getting nothing for Christmas.

That wasn't gonna fly.

He suddenly stood and headed towards the dorms, "I'll be right back."

"But what about our game?"

"Ciara can take my place."

They couldn't get another word in before he vanished up the staircase.

"Was it something we said," Ciara questioned.

✨?￢ﾚﾡ

Ron had never written a letter so frantically before.

The only solid thing he remembered writing was Mum before his hand started moving faster than his brain could think. His writing was slightly illegible, but his mother has been reading his handwriting since he learned to write. He knew she would figure it out.

After scribbling a hastily signature onto the bottom of the letter, he ran as fast as he could to the fifth year dorms. Percy Weasley, who was reading a muggle book on his bed, jumped when his little brother slammed the door open.

"Ron," he scolded, "Don't slam the door open, that's-"

"I need to borrow Errol," Ron panted.

"No, why would I-"

"HARRY AND CIARA NEVER GET ANY CHRISTMAS PRESENTS, YOU GIT!"

Percy's retort fell from his lips and he sighed, "Okay, let's mail the letter."

Ron practically ran out of the Gryffindor common rooms, the sound of Ciara's laugher and Harry frustrated sighs ringing in his ears. Percy barely managed to keep up as they ran to the Owlery. Errol was easy to spot and soon he had Ron's letter in his beak.

"Take it to the Burrow, okay?" Ron asked and without another word, Errol took off.

✨?￢ﾚﾡ

It was the twenty-second of December and after working all day in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, Arthur Weasley was ready to turn in for the night.

The house was oddly quiet. Ginny had been asleep for the past two hours and with all of the other kids gone to Hogwarts, it was the quietest the house has been in years. It was slightly unnerving, there was always some sort of noise going on around the house, but Arthur was going to make the most of it silence get some sleep.

At least, he was going to.

But then he saw his beloved wife bring out her knitting needles.

He stared at her in confusion, "Umm… Molly-dearest?"

"Yes?"

She didn't snap at him, but her voice was tight with tension. Arthur chose his next words lightly. "Honey, I thought you were done knitting sweaters?" He then laughed, "Did we get another child while I was at work?"

"Yes," she responded viciously, much to his surprise, "Ron's new friends, sweet, little Harry and Ciara. If I start knitting now, I can finish their sweaters and make some fudge to send Errol back with."

She pulled three different yarn colors out of her basket (emerald green, tiger orange, and light gold) and started looping the emerald green yarn through her knitting needles like a pro.

It was then, as Arthur listened to the familiar click-clack of his wife's knitting needles, that he realized that they did get another child while he was at work. Well, they actually got two, but who's counting.

Besides, Arthur thought as he rolled over and drifted off to sleep, you kind of start to lose count after five...

✨?￢ﾚﾡ

Christmas came quicker than Ciara wanted.

Despite the fact that she would be spending Christmas with her best friends, she would shaky away her dislike for the holiday. It was like, no matter what she did, how much time she spent with her friends, the memory of scowls, pain, and Death Eaters were imprinted into the back of her eyelid, haunting her in her every waking and sleeping moment.

She shivered at the memory.

Unfortunately, the boys noticed.

"What is it?" Ron finally questioned. Ciara stared at him, started by the bold question. His blue eyes bore into her brown ones and before she could change the subject, emerald green eyes pierced her.

Two to one. She lost.

She sighed, "Christmases at Malfoy Manor aren't exactly...fun..."

They stared at her expectantly and she sighed again, glancing at Ron, "I know you know my family's reputation isn't exactly the best, but every Christmas, my mother and Aunt Narcissa would invite all of the pureblood families over to 'celebrate' as the put it. But they always wanted me to be like them, a bunch of pureblood maniacs. But I always refused, and after that... they kind of shunned me... I haven't really celebrated Christmas since..."

She shivered again, "I've been having nightmares about it for days, I can't get it out of my head..."

Harry stared at her empathy and gripped her hand in reassurance. He knew what it was like to have nightmares, to be haunted at night by your own memories. He knew what it was like, so he could empathize with her.

Ron could empathize with her.

But he could give her a solution.

"Go get your gloves on."

Harry and Ciara's heads shout up in unison as they stared at him curiously. At their lack of movement, Ron spoke again, "Go get our winter clothes on. You too, Harry. I want to show you something."

With little hesitance, they parted and rushed to throw their winter gear on. Their gloves and hats were simpy gray and the scarves bore their house colors; red and gold. Ciara occasionally stumbled as they rushed down the halls and out into the snow, she wasn't used to were shoes, much less running in them.

Though you'd think she would be after being at Hogwarts for four months.

The snow came up to their mid-thigh and was, for some reason, extremely easy to walk in. Ciara stared at the scenery, snow on the mountain, snow on the trees, snow on the...snow. Lots of snow.

"Alright Ron," she said finally, "So what are we-"

A snowball nailed her in the back of the head.

"Wha-Hey!" She turned on her heel and scowled at Ron. He was grinning, forming another snowball in his hand. Harry stood behind him, doubled over in laughter. Ciara's scowl slowly turned into a smirk and she gathered snow into her own hand, "Fine then, if that's how you want to play."

She threw her snowball, aiming for Ron's head and it would have hit him had he not ducked. But he did, and the snowball hit Harry square between the eyes. They all stared at each other in shock before Ron roared in laughter. Ciara giggled at Harry's expression and gestured towards his hair, "You got a little...snow, up there."

"Yeah, I can tell," he shook his head like a dog, sending the snow flying from his hair. She laughed at him again, and it soon turned into an all-out snowball fight. They played all throughout the day and well into the night, the only reason they went in was because Professor McGonagall came out to get them.

"Just because you're on holiday doesn't mean you get to run yourself to the ground and get sick," she scolded as she ushered them inside. With a small wave of her wand, their clothes dried themselves and warmth began to seep into their bones. They stumbled up towards the Gryffindor dorms, Harry practically carrying Ciara. In her sleep-hazed mind, she could faintly hear her friends talking.

"-my brothers did that to me when I was younger. When I couldn't sleep, they would take me out to play Quidditch until I was too tired to stay awake. I only found out years later though..."

"It worked like a charm, she's hardly awake!"

"Shut up," she grunted, forcing her eyes open to send them a sleepy glare, "I can still hear you."

Her head wordlessly fell back onto Harry's shoulder and by the time they reached the entrance to the Gryffindor common rooms, she was already asleep.

A pillow hit her in the face, nearly sending her off the bed.

"Oof!"

"Oi! Wake up!"

Ciara forced open her bleary eyes, coming face to face with an exhilarated Harry and a smirking Ron. "Nuuhg," she groaned, "why are you waking me up so-"

Her voice died on her lips when she saw a small pile of parcels at the foot of the bed.

Presents.

"Oh," she said, her voice suddenly very small, "Whose...whose are those?"

"Yours."

Her head snapped up towards Harry then over towards Ron, "Mine? From who?"

"Open them and see."

At Ron's advice, Ciara tore away the bulky wrapping paper. As the paper fell away, she pulled out a sweater that was just her size, "Wow..." she whispered as she stared at it. The main color was orange (tiger orange she would later learn) and there was a big C stitched knitted into the center of it with light golden yarn. She rubbed the sleeve between her fingers, "Who made it?"

"My mum," Ron said, looking oddly pleased, "I wrote to her, saying how you and Harry weren't expecting anything and she sent an owl back yesterday with all of this."

She smiled at Ron, "Thank you."

He shrugged, "It's no big deal."

It was a big deal, to her and Harry, but before she could say anything else on the matter Ron, shoved another package into her hands, "Don't stop now! Keep opening!"

The next present was also from Molly, which contained some type of fudge ("White Chocolate Cake Batter Fudge," Ron said).

Either way, it was very delicious.

Her next gif was a letter written by her mother. She wordlessly set it aside, deciding that she would more than likely burn it later.

The next parcel was from Hermione, who got her a Muggle book called 'The Hobbit.'

Ciara would be lying if she said she wasn't excited to read it

After she tore away the wrapping paper on the next gift, she saw that underneath it was a picture frame with a note covering the picture. Ciara gently tore it away.

Ciara,

I messaged some of your aunt's old friends, the ones who survived the first war. I figured you wanted a picture of her.

Merry Christmas,

Hagrid.

Her hands automatically lowered as she looked at the photo. The woman had dark brown hair, not as dark as her's, mind you, but it was a few shades lighter. She was sporting a light tan, her light gray robes making it stand out. Her eyes were brown, like hers, and they were shining with mirth.

There were five other people standing around her.

The sight of two of them startled her, but somehow, she knew who they were immediately. The man had messy black hair that was jetting off in every direction, but it stuck up the most in the back. Round glasses seemed to slip down his nose and he moved to push them back up. Hazel eyes peered at her through the paper and even she could see the mischievous glint in them.

His other arm was draped over a woman's shoulders. She rolled her eyes at the man's antics, but she didn't bother hiding her mirth-filled grin. Her emerald green eyes were alight with adoration as she stared at the man next to her. Their gaze caught each other before the picture started over.

Ciara's chest tightened when she realized who they were.

Lily and James Potter.

Harry's mum and dad.

Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the picture, not even thinking of looking at the other people in it. She just stared at the people that were supposed to be raising her best friend.

The people her father murdered.

She looked up and held out the photo for Harry, "I think you should see this."

He smiled at her confusion lacing his features, but he took the photo nonetheless. The reaction was instantaneous. His confused look fell away into an expression of awe. For the first time since he was a baby, Harry Potter got to see his parents.

"You can keep it, you know," Ciara said softly, "The picture. You can keep it if you want to. I know it was mean more to you than it does to me."

After a long, tense moment, Harry looked up from the photo and pressed it back into her hands.

"Keep it," he said softly.

And Ciara didn't know it then, but after that moment, there was nothing she wouldn't do for him.

Ron coughed awkwardly, causing Ciara and Harry to jerk away from each other.

He handed Ciara the package, not meeting her eyes, "Last one."

She slipped the Weasley sweater over her head and took it from his grasp, "Who's this one from? It doesn't have a name on it."

Both of the boys shrugged their shoulders.

The wrapping paper gone, Ciara was now left with a small, black box the size of her palm. Opening the lid, a simple silver necklace sat at the bottom, the words Until The End written in loopy letters. She pulled it out gently, "Wha-"

"Hey! Here's a note."

Ron tossed it over to Ciara and she nearly dropped the box in her haste to open it. Ignoring the boys' snickers, she unfolded the note and read it aloud.

"Your aunt left this in my possession before she died.

It is time it was returned to you.

Use it well."

Ciara stared at them in confusion, "Use it well? It's a necklace, how am I supposed to use it?"

Before anyone could answer her question, the dormitory door was flung open and Fred and George Weasley bounded in. The Weasley Twins were wearing blue sweaters, one with a large yellow F on it, the other a G.

"Merry Christmas!"

"Hey, look — Harry's got a Weasley sweater! The Mystery Girl does too!"

Ciara smiled again, the twins made it easy to do that, "You guys do know that my name is Ciara, right?'

"Oh hush, Mystery Girl."

"Harry's is better than ours, though," said Fred after his twin finished speaking, holding up Harry's sweater and observing Ciara's. "She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not family."

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

"I hate maroon," Ron moaned halfheartedly as he pulled it over his head.

"You haven't got a letter on yours," George observed. "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 had clearly gotten halfway through unwrapping his presents as he, too, carried a lumpy sweater over his arm, which Fred seized.

Ciara smiled at him, "Merry Christmas, Percy."

"Merry Christmas, Ciara. Now, what's with all of the noise?"

At the sight of their older brother, the twins sprang up and walked towards him. "P for prefect! Get it on, Percy, come on, we're all wearing ours, even Harry and Mystery Girl got 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 didn't give Percy a choice as they pulled him out of the dorms, his arms pinned to his side by his sweater. The trio stared at the door for a moment before Fred popped his head back in

"What are you waiting for," he questioned, "C'mon!"

The feast was amazing.

A hundred fat, roast turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas; tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce — and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table.

No dinner the Malfoy's could cook up would ever compare to this.

But the oddness didn't just stop there.

Like how, up at the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizard's

hat for a flowered bonnet, and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read him. Or how Hagrid kept getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, before finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek. And to Ciara's complete surprise, giggled and blushed, her top hat lopsided.

"Is this what it's like every year at Christmas?" Ciara questioned Dumbledore as the feast finished.

"Yes, it is, Miss Riddle. Although, I am usually able to get Professor Snape to wear an ugly Christmas sweater."

She looked up at him hopefully, "Will I be able to stay here every year for Christmas?"

"Miss Riddle," Dumbledore said, suddenly very serious, "Help will always be given a Hogwarts to those who ask for it."

"Ciara! C'mon!"

Harry was standing with Ron, Fred, and George by the Grat Hall doors, "C'mon!" He shouted, "we're gonna have another snowball fight!"

"Coming!" She called before waving behind her, "Bye, Professor Dumbledore!"

Dumbledore just smiled.

They played outside in the snow for the rest of the day, their clothes soaked to their skin and their noses and cheeks rosy and red. So, cold, wet, and gasping for breath, they returned to the fire in the Gryffindor common room, quickly changing out of their cold clothes and into their pajamas It was after Harry had been beaten at wizard's chess for the fifth time, and while Percy chance Fred and George around for stealing his prefect badge, that she finally decided to turn in for the night.

And it was sometime between reaching her dorms and falling asleep, but she came to the conclusion that Christmas wasn't so bad after all.