Disclaimer:
I do not pretend to own the Harry Potter world or any character within it: that right belongs to the eminent J. K. Rowling, to whom I most respectfully yield.
Neither do I pretend to be an expert on the early legends of King Arthur and the fabled Isle of Avalon. They belong to posterity and my imagination.
If, in writing, I offend someone, I apologize, but stand by my opinions.
I write this solely for my own amusement and for the appreciation of my audience. NO monetary gain whatsoever is intended.
I have no money, don't sue me, I'm not worth it, and there are bigger fish to fry.
Chapter Ten
Christmas, for the first time since Harry had been at Hogwarts, was planned to be spent away from the school. Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Granger had got together over the term and arranged to have a gigantic Christmas celebration at the Burrow. Anna had been invited, at the insistence of Mrs. Weasley and the twins, and was quite aflutter, for she'd never celebrated Christmas before.
"Well, I live at Avalon," she protested when Ron had exclaimed shock over the news, "We don't celebrate Christian holidays. I celebrate Samhain, Beltane, Midsummer, and Midwinter, but not Christmas."
"Well you're just going to have to learn," Hermione insisted, and they'd spent a laughter filled afternoon at the Three Broomsticks, sipping butterbeer and trying to stuff Anna with as much Christmas lore as humanly possible.
Harry, who'd never spent a Christmas away from Hogwarts, was a little unsure of how it was to go about, but Hermione had, and she took great satisfaction in bossing around everyone.
For the holidays Hogwarts was deserted, even more so now than it had been at the height of the Chamber of Secrets hysteria. Three more black backed owls had floated down over the course of the week before the end of term. Two Ravenclaws and a Griffindor lost either a parent or, in one case, a sibling, to the Death Eaters.
The celebrations had taken on a determined air; everyone was absolutely focused on making this a wonderful Christmas because there was no telling who would be next. Hermione had taken Anna and Ginny out shopping on the last Hogsmeade day before the end of term, they returned to the Three Broomsticks giggling like madwomen with large wrapped packages spilling over their arms.
Anna's mirth was sorely tested, however, when Gwendolyn disappeared the night before they left and returned in the morning with another little bit of parchment. Anna spent the entire morning closeted with the Lady Raven after that message, although she flat out refused to tell anyone what it contained.
Hermione let it slide, surprisingly because she normally demanded information out of everyone, but Harry was determined to find something out and badgered Anna so badly that Gwendolyn took a swipe at him for annoying her out of a nap.
The train to Platform 9 ¾ was quiet, or as quiet as a holiday train could be, the twins grabbed Anna and sandwiched her between them, muttering all sorts of things about 'profits' and 'overhead' and 'inventory'. Gwendolyn hung from the ceiling like some bizarre sort of living heat lamp, and Hermione and Ron, finally having gotten over the awkward stage of their relationship, were cozied together Ron playing Exploding Snap with Harry, and Hermione, as always, reading. Ginny was taking care of Crookshanks, who every once in a while tried to scale someone in an attempt to catch the dragon hanging from the ceiling.
Mrs. Granger greeted everyone at the Kings Cross entrance to the Muggle world. She had one car; Mr. Granger drove the other, and between the two of them managed to get everyone in and all of their belongings packed with a minimum of fuss. Harry strongly suspected that Mr. Weasley had magically enhanced the boot of both cars, because somehow the entire luggage, including Hedwig, Pigwidgeon, Crookshanks, and seven trunks, fit properly and with room to spare.
Gwendolyn point blank refused to be separated from Anna, even for as short a trip as this, and in her excitement she singed Fred and George a bit as they crawled into the car. The drive to the Burrow was a merry one, if a little warm, as everyone tried to teach Anna Christmas carols, with all of them singing a different one at the same time and the little blue dragon sneezing every once in a while, lighting something aflame.
It was a tight squeeze, fitting into the Burrow, but somehow the Weasleys, all nine of them, the three Grangers, Harry and Anna all managed to find a flat place to sleep that night. The girls all got the largest of the children's rooms. Bill, Charlie and Percy were all sharing the one at the top. Fred and George got their room, and the Grangers slept in Ron's. The Weasley's, of course, had their own. That left Ron and Harry to share the sleeper sofa in the living room with a very anxious dragon, Crookshanks, and several, very nocturnal, owls.
Something woke Harry, who'd never been an easy sleeper, and he sighed, figuring it was, again, one of Crookshanks's attempts to scale a wall in pursuit of Gwendolyn. He rolled over and was on the verge of sleep when he heard a small, but distinct sniffle.
"Hello there?" Harry asked softly, not wanting to wake Ron, "Who is it?"
"I'm sorry," Anna apologised, "I didn't mean to wake you. Gwendolyn was just getting lonesome, and I needed a bit of fresh air, that's all"
Harry rolled over, to look at the direction the voice came from, and immediately decided that Gwendolyn wasn't the only one who'd got lonesome that night.
Anna was standing by the sliding glass doors, looking out on the snow in the garden, in her nightdress and one of ether Hermione's or Ginny's black Hogwarts robes. Her eyes were shining suspiciously in the moonlight, and Harry suspected she'd been crying.
"I understand. There are a whole lot of Weasley's. It can get to be a bit much sometimes." Harry rolled out of bed, oblivious to the fact that his boxers were probably not the best choice of attire for running about the Burrow at night. As the cold air hit his skin, he shivered, uncontrollably.
"Here," Anna offered, holding up the miniature dragon, "She won't singe, I promise." Gwendolyn beat her wings a few times, and landed on Harry's shoulder, spreading her wings over his back, and warming him considerably.
"Thanks" he looked at the young woman in front of him seriously. He wasn't ignorant to the occasional tugs of his teenage hormones, but somehow this night, with Anna illuminated by the moonlight and tears, she the most beautiful he'd ever seen her.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked, reaching out to take her hand, a gesture that seemed to surprise her, and stroking it softly.
"I can't tell you," she said, reluctantly, as though the admission hurt, "I'm sorry"
"The letter," he acknowledged bitterly, "whatever that was."
"We've had this discussion before, Harry, I don't want to argue with you, not tonight." She looked away, "Please"
"Alright," he agreed easily, for some reason not wanting to argue tonight either, "Are you Ok? You look a little…sad."
"I'll be fine," she dismissed, turning her back to him, hiding tears. She'd spent all day happily wallowing in the camaraderie of the Weasleys and the Grangers, and Harry.
It was something she was unaccustomed to, most of the people on Avalon, where she'd spent all but the smallest portion of her life, were at the very least twenty years old, most much older, and not much in the way of fun company for a young child. She loved them all very dearly, but it was still different.
She'd not missed it when she'd never known what she was missing, but somehow the poignancy of the night, everyone cramming together to celebrate, just activated her tear ducts.
Harry could tell, from the thickness in her voice and the slight shake in her shoulders, that she was still upset. He took a chance and stepped up behind her, placing hands lightly on her shoulders.
"I don't think so" he rubbed through the nightdress and the old Hogwarts robe, "I think you're upset and need a shoulder to cry it out on and I think I know just the guy."
She gave in, turning around and snuggling into Harry's arms. Awkwardly he embraced her, patting the nearest available body part, her back. It was an unfamiliar place for him to be, no one had ever really been affectionate with him before, except Ron and Hermione.
Anna was not Ron or Hermione.
"I'm just indulging in a bit of a pity party," she murmured, "I've never had a Christmas celebration and I'm feeling a little down."
"I really never had one until I came to Hogwarts either," Harry shared, "It was a bit of a shock for me too." He felt her rubbing her hands up and down his chest, rubbing against the fine curly hair, a sensation that was not at all unpleasant.
"And they get on me for walking about without a shirt on," she muttered, amused, and radiating something like affection but more intense, "I must say, you look a good deal better than I, with no nasty looking writing all over."
"It's not nasty," he protested, "You look very pretty, I've seen them." When she gave him a disbelieving look, "You are too pretty!"
She looked at him, he looked back at her, and it seemed only natural that at some point their faces would get closer together. They kissed, lightly, then a little deeper as she relaxed into him. He gently nuzzled her cheek, she wrapped her arms around his waist, and they hugged like that for a long time.
"You better get back to bed," Anna finally said, "you'll freeze"
"Worse ways to go" he muttered, squeezing her slightly, "Besides that, you're pretty warm, yourself."
"And what if Ron wakes up then?" Anna asked.
"What if?" responded "How many times have we caught Ron and Hermione going at it? Won't bother him at all."
"I need to get back to bed, Harry or I'll not be fit to decorate tomorrow," Anna said, though making no move to let him go. "And I'm told that's the highlight of the season."
"No," Harry disagreed, "the highlight is the presents." He grinned, letting her go and stepping back, "You'll be alright then?"
"Peachy" she grinned, and kissed him lightly on the nose, before scampering off, up the stairs, and back to bed. Harry shook his head, smiling, and twisted to try and see the electric blue dragon that was still perched on his shoulders.
"Well are you going to go back to bed, Gwen, or am I going to stand here all night?" Harry asked her.
The dragon obliged him by taking off, and settling on the plaster ceiling above his bed. Rubbing his shoulder slightly, for all that Anna promised that Gwendolyn wouldn't singe he was still a little toasty, Harry climbed back into the sleeper bed.