Sorry it's been so long. I've been a bit busy lately, but I'll make it up in the new year. Merry Christmas!

Although the term seemed to have gone on forever, the Hogsmeade weekend finally rolled around.

Huddled in their warmest cloaks, Harry, Ron and Hermione walked down the main street chewing on Honeyduke's sweets and thinking of how much the village looked like a Christmas card when it was covered in snow. They decided to split up for a bit and meet back in the Three Broomsticks in an hour.

Harry breathed in the chill air and savoured its crisp bite on his lungs. Everywhere he looked he saw Hogwarts students going in and out of shops and a pair were even fighting playfully in the snow. When he looked over at them he saw not a pair of third years on their first trip out, but a seventh year prefect and her boyfriend.

He knew the boy - he was a Beater on the Ravenclaw team, Jason Thomas. His girlfriend he knew by sight but not by name - a tall girl with flame- red hair cut short and spiky. Their games were interrupted by a rather pale, frail-looking woman completely covered by a deep green, rather tattered, cloak with a hood that covered her head. They greeted this woman like an old friend, hugging her close, before wandering into the Three Broomsticks together.

Harry looked in Zonko's joke shop, Gladrags wizard-wear and various other shops such as Grizabella's Animal Emporium and Quality Quidditch Supplies before noticing his time was up and hurried to the pub.

He noticed with some annoyance that he was the first one back, despite being late. He ordered a hot butterbeer and found a free table. He couldn't help overhearing the conversation from the table behind.

'Winter's come early and hard this year. Thank the seasons for a good berry harvest or we'd never make it through. Faol's already complaining about eating like a hedgehog. He's got a cold so he's whining like a baby.'

'Old Faol, he's just a typical male. Yes, you're exactly the same, Mossy, my lad.'

'I hardly think that's fair. But, Adhara, if you need anything all you have to do is ask. You can't let Saiph's pride mean that you and the rest starve.'

'It's not Saiph that's the problem, it's Maple.'

'You give Maple a kick up the arse from me, all right? Come on, call it an early Christmas present to the pack. What do you need?'

Harry heard no more as at that moment Ron and Hermione walked in. He just caught sight of the Ravenclaws and the frail woman leaving. The table behind him was now empty.

'Hey, Harry. Did you see the new improved dungbombs in Zonko's? Look, I bought loads.'

Hermione rolled her eyes and went up to the bar to get some drinks. Ron showed off his purchases proudly as Hermione deposited three steaming tankards of butterbeer on the table.

'What's wrong, Harry?' she asked, noticing his long face.

'Oh, I was just walking past that shop, Grizabella's.'

'Storm. I know, I felt the same myself when I walked past. You don't think we could get Malfoy to give something to her, do you?'

'Not a hope in hell, Hermione. Since when has Malfoy done anything nice for anyone?'

'Hey, look, it's Dobby!'

All three turned round and saw the free house-elf sitting on a stool near the fire clutching a miniature tankard of butterbeer made especially for elves with no alcohol content. Dobby noticed them too and started waving frantically before making his way through a sea of legs to their table and hoisting himself up onto the bench.

'Hi, Dobby, how are you doing?' asked Ron

'Dobby is very well, sir, thank you, but not expecting to see Harry Potter and his friends here.'

'Dobby, we've got something to ask you. Was your friend from the Malfoys a blue rith called Zafyre?'

Dobby sighed defeatedly, 'Yes, she was Dobby's only friend, but without Dobby there to keep her company she did something bad.'

'She ran away.'

'Yes, but how do you know? She sent Dobby an owl saying what she had done and how he mustn't be angry with her, but she couldn't stand it any more.'

'She was at Hogwarts.'

'Was? Where is she now?'

'Your old master came to collect her.'

Dobby started banging his head against the table for no apparent reason. Harry grabbed him by the neck before too many people began to stare, 'Stop it, Dobby.'

Dobby stared up at him with dazed eyes, 'Dobby should have known. He should have sent her away so she would not be found.'

'Why?'

'Zafyre does not like to be alone. When Dobby was a slave we were friends, she taught Dobby how to read, something she learned from her old master and Dobby taught her how to speak. Master was cruel to her, he does not understand her.'

'She can talk?'

Dobby began to bang his head against the table again with furious mutterings of 'Bad Dobby!'. Harry grabbed him and took him outside.

'Dobby, I know she can speak. She knew my father's name.' Dobby's great green eyes widened. 'But she only spoke after the Cruciatus curse had been done on her.'

Dobby covered his ears and shook his head as if trying to get rid of some terrible noise, 'Not that.'

'It's been done before?'

'When she did not want to give her blood.'

'Her blood?'

'Rith blood is very valuable - werewolf blood you see. Master sold it, but Zafyre didn't want to give it away. Dobby cried when he heard her scream.'

'Thank you, Dobby, you've been really helpful.'

'Harry Potter, master mustn't know about Zafyre's. gift. She must keep it hidden or he will do terrible things. I must go now.'

Harry did not need to ask who 'he' was. He waved goodbye to Dobby before going back into the pub. He was freezing because he hadn't bothered to put his cloak back on when he rushed Dobby outside. He sat back down.

'What did he say?' Ron asked.

'Malfoy uses the Cruciatus curse on Storm when she tries to stop him taking her blood.'

'That evil old git!' Ron yelled, but was hissed into silence.

'Storm can also speak, properly, but it's a guarded secret. Dobby said if Malfoy finds out he will do dreadful things to her, I don't know why, so we can't let on.'

'Sure.'

* * * * *

The trio walked back to Hogwarts feeling rather depressed knowing what Storm must be going through, but not guessing the half of it.

They sat down to dinner and were greeted with an announcement from the Headmaster.

'Due to the success of last years Yule Ball we have decided to make it an annual event. It will take place on Christmas Day at eight o'clock, so get choosing your partners. That's all!'

Ron and Harry looked at each other, the same question on their minds, 'Who's going to ask Hermione?'

Harry broke the silence, 'At least I don't have to open it this year!'

They could hear sniggering from the Slytherin table before a loud voice lifted itself, 'Hey, Potter, maybe my father should have left his rith here. But why would you need an expensive hound when you have Granger?'

'You shut up, Malfoy.' Ron started, but Hermione cut him off.

'Maybe he should've, Draco, but I don't think you wanted Zafyre to put you to shame when you found out she could dance better than you. But if you get desperate you can always ask Hagrid if you can borrow one of his jarveys. They'd suit you, ferret boy!'

There were angry mutterings, but no more comments rose from the blonde boy and dinner was had in peace.

'What're you going to wear, Ron?' Harry asked quietly. Fred and George had been on a promise to buy him some new dress robes and Harry only hoped they'd lived up to it.

'Oh, I got some new dress robes over the summer - present from my brothers. They said Bagman finally gave them the money he owed them and they didn't want me looking like a prat again if we had a Yule Ball.'

'That was nice of them.'

'I'm just wondering what they've done to them.'