Year 7 Harry Potter and the Seer's Prophecy Chapter 23: The Second Holiday, a harry potter fanfic

Chapter 23: The Second Holiday

November eighteenth, Harry walked into Defense Against the Dark Arts without his glasses on. He'd missed breakfast that morning, telling Ron he wasn't hungry and that he'd see him in class. He walked in a few minutes late and Connerly, busy discussing the lesson, simply held her hand out like she was expecting something. Harry walked forward uncertainly, stopping when he bumped into her hand, and Connerly was forced to stop her lesson and turn to him.

"Do you need—Oh!" Connerly's eyes widened in surprise. "Mr. Potter, I didn't recognize you, sorry. Just have a seat; we're discussing spells to deflect the effects of dark potions."

"Over here, Harry; I saved you a seat next to me," Azar called cheerfully, though her eyes held a hint of worry.

Harry headed over, Azar switching seats as quietly as she could and then grabbing his hand to sit him down. Connerly continued with her discussion, ignoring the students who kept glancing at Harry for the next five minutes.

Quietly whispering into his ear, Azar said, "Hey, why aren't you wearing your glasses?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't need them any more, after all, so it just seemed like the right thing to do."

Azar dropped the topic there, though Harry's mind didn't. He'd made his voice sound careless, as though leaving his glasses in his dormitory was the easiest thing in the world. The reason he'd missed breakfast and the start of class, however, was because it wasn't. He chided himself for putting so much weight on the action, but he couldn't help it. It felt like he was giving up, and he wasn't too sure that he wasn't.

At the end of class, Harry, Ron, and Hermione said good-bye to Azar and met up with Draco on the way to Care of Magical Creatures. Draco glanced questioningly at Harry but didn't say a word.

"We have a Quidditch match Friday," Ron remarked tentatively as they headed out onto the cold grounds.

Hermione shot him an angry look, but Ron just scowled back at her.

"I was just thinking," Ron continued, "that if you weren't better by then, Harry…well—"

"You're right," Harry said quickly. "I should have got a backup long ago. It shouldn't be too hard, though; at tryouts I noticed a couple people I was going to point out to Bella as possible future seekers."

The other three were quiet, half surprised at the ease with which Harry spoke of not playing in the game.

"Though of course they'll only be a temporary," Ron said quickly. "We won't need one long."

Harry smiled slightly, though it didn't mirror in his eyes. He knew Ron was trying to make him feel better but it just made everything awkward. Initially, he could have sworn that Snape's potion was working, that his eyesight was becoming clearer. Yet over time, even though he religiously had a goblet full of the cold draught every evening, he realized now that there was no difference. There would be no difference.

As they approached Hagrid's hut, they saw that the rest of the class was already there. They'd only been there for a moment when Hagrid came from around back, carrying a box. He set it down and spotted the new arrivals.

"All righ' there, you three?" he smiled.

"Hello, Hagrid," Hermione said.

Quietly, Draco blended in with the rest of the class, knowing he wasn't part of the conversation. As the the students grew louder, Hagrid's voice suddenly boomed above them.

"Alrigh', class, quiet down. Yes, well, I know yeh've enjoyed workin' with the malaclaws but I've decided ter move onto another creature," he said, to the relief of all.

"It's about time," Dean muttered. "They always seemed to get a bite off me. I kept failing my Potions tests."

"Don't think that had anything to do with bad luck, mate. Hey, now I'll be able to place a bet on the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff game," Seamus said happily.

"Instead we'll be takin' care of a few young murtlaps," Hagrid continued, taking the lid off the box. Inside were a large number of tiny, rat-like creatures that looked only a few days old, squirming and making little peeping noises. A chorus of coos came from some of the girls. "Righ' now they're blind and don't haf the spines on their backs, but yeh migh' want ter bring yer dragon-hide gloves ter later classes, and thick shoes so they don' eat yer feet."

Those that had cooed before now looked a little shocked. Hagrid began to carefully pass out one murtlap to each student, each creature in a sixty by forty centimeter box. They did look remarkably like rats, though they had no tails.

"Later," Hagrid said when he was done, "we'll learn how ter harvest the spines they'll grow, bu' today yeh need to create a nest for them in their boxes. I've got grasses here fer yeh to make 'em with. They're babies, remember, so make yer nests soft."

Harry found this to be a much better assignment than any they'd had with the malaclaws. He was able to do it himself without worrying about getting bit so many times that he rivaled Neville Longbottom as "Gryffindor's most accident prone." Making the nest was particularly easy for another reason: it relied on touch. When the end of class came and Hagrid looked over their nests, he declared Harry's as the closest to what a mother murtlap would have made, clapping his hand on Harry's back in congratulation.

After dinner, Harry headed alone to the Forbidden Forest. It wasn't really for the sake of being alone, but to keep away from his dormitory. He'd left his glasses on his bedside table. During lunch, he'd gone up and fingered them a moment, almost putting them on. Best to keep away from them; he didn't want to deal with the temptation. But he couldn't put them in a more permanent place either. Not yet.

Harry sat under the first tree he found. It didn't really matter whether or not someone saw him; he wasn't trying to hide. He'd had a good deal of time to think over the past weeks and there was something he wanted to do, had wanted to do since near the end of last year. Closing his eyes, he concentrated hard on absolutely nothing. The calm swept over him as it had … Was it really six months ago? The few leaves that remained gasped with every breath of wind and their branches creaked upon themselves like the bones of old men, but the voices were still there, though so much older.

"Harry?"

He jumped slightly, his eyes snapping open. His neck was sore and he realized that the light that he could see was much darker than when he last saw it. It was night. For a while, he wondered if he'd simply dreamed that someone had said his name. Any question was pushed from his mind as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Upsy-daisies, Harry legs."

Harry smiled, letting Azar help him up from his reclined position by the tree. "Sorry. Guess I fell asleep."

"Would seem so. Ron and Hermione have been searching everywhere for you. Apparently you have a Quidditch team meeting to get to."

Harry's eyes widened. "Have I really slept that long?!"

He and Azar raced up to the castle and to the Gryffindor tower, leaving the trees behind.

That night, the Gryffindor team had a quick discussion about a replacement seeker, after which Bella Arroz spoke to three Gryffindors about trying out tomorrow. They jumped at the chance. Harry was going to go to the tryout, but he knew he'd be of little use. The next day, as he sat listening to the three prospects try out, he couldn't help but feel that it was a horrible way to waste an afternoon. It was eventually decided that, although she seemed terribly hyper, tiny third-year Tyler Beckston was the best choice as his replacement.

Friday came quickly and for the first time, Harry found himself in the stands for a Gryffindor game. He probably didn't breathe through the whole game. After their loss to Slytherin, Harry knew they had to keep a winning streak if they wanted the Cup. However, his worries were in vain. Gryffindor trounced Hufflepuff. After the Chasers took a commanding lead for the team, Tyler caught the snitch like she'd been born to do it. Of course, it probably helped that she owned a Quasar II, the fastest broom model yet. (Harry noticed that "the fastest broom in the world!" seemed to change each year.) Despite the win, Harry just didn't feel ecstatic. It was a lot different, straining to hear Moon's commentary over the cheers, as opposed to snatching up the snitch right before the opposing seeker caught it.

After the game, Harry gladly joined Azar in the library to write a History of Magic essay despite the late time. She'd found a convenient charm that allowed him to write straight and keep within the parchment, for which he was mostly grateful.

"Ug," he groaned after a few hours, rotating his wrist with a loud pop. "What's the use of being blind if you find a way to make me write my essays, Azar?"

She gave a laugh, shaking her head and continuing with her own writing. Harry didn't go back to work but just sat a moment, thinking. After a while he said, "There's no hope, is there?"

"That you'll get that essay done on time?" Azar asked. "No, I'm afraid not."

Harry didn't feel like laughing. "There's no hope that I'll get my sight back."

The scratching of Azar's quill on her parchment ended abruptly. She was silent for a moment. "Well, what if there isn't?"

"I don't know. But…well, I guess there isn't any hope, really. I've stopped hoping, anyways."

Azar put her hand firmly over Harry's eyes, causing him to jump.

"Wha—"

"Harry James Potter," she boomed importantly, "I release you from this demon! Open your eyes!"

Harry laughed, complying with her command as she removed her hand.

"There," Azar said with satisfaction.

"Hate to tell you this, Azar, but I'm still blind," Harry said with a smile.

Azar rested her forehead on his. "Only if you choose to be. And I've never known Harry Potter to be one to hide in a corner and say he had no other choice."

Harry leaned forward slightly, kissing her.

"A-hem."

They pulled apart to find Madam Pince staring down at them with a nasty glare. "The library is a place of study, not snogging. And it is closing even for those who use it for its proper purpose, so I suggest you get back to your houses."

"I'd bet anything she and Madam Pomfrey are related," Azar muttered as she walked with Harry to the portrait of the Fat Lady. "They've even got the same first name."

Harry laughed hard at this, thinking that by the end of the year Azar would probably begrudge every adult that kept an eye out for "rule-breakers." When they reached the portrait, Azar gave him a quick kiss.

"Harry, I've got a favor to ask you."

"What?"

"Wear your glasses tomorrow."

Harry's face fell slightly. "Azar…"

"Just do. I miss them terribly."

She gave his hand a squeeze and then headed down the hall. With a sigh, Harry headed up to his dormitory. He didn't fall asleep for a good many hours.

Harry woke up a little early the next morning and really wished he'd managed to stay asleep a little bit longer. There was no use trying to drift off again now, though, so he just lay there, staring up at the red blur that was his bed curtains. …Red curtains?

In a flash, Harry sat bolt upright. Red. There was red everywhere. His heart pounding, he frantically reached for the curtains. His glasses. He had to get his glasses. At the sight of his hand, however, he froze. It was a peach blur coming out of a purple one. Purple? Who the hell had dressed him in purple pajamas?!

Suddenly remembering his purpose for reaching forward, Harry's glasses were soon shoved on his face. His eyes searched the room. There was the dormitory, how it had always been, though a little more blurry than he remembered. Feeling ready to explode with joy, Harry yelled as loud as his lungs allowed.

Grunts of surprise and bitter moans came from the beds of his roommates, and after a good deal of scuffling, Ron nearly fell out of his bed, grabbing his side table to keep his balance.

"Harry!" he said breathlessly. "Harry, what is it?!"

"You have red hair," Harry laughed, tears coming to his eyes.

"What?" Ron said, grabbing a chunk of hair as though to check that it was still there.

"You have red hair," Harry repeated, his voice quivering, "and you're wearing those dark green pajamas Hermione bought you for your birthday. … Ron, I can see."

****

It was a Saturday to remember. News spread fast around the school: the latest miracle in the blessed life of Harry Potter. Gryffindors took it to be a great excuse to have another party that night. In that moment when the news was first heard, however, it was met with much less fanfare. Ron just stared, unable to digest what he had just heard. Harry, on the other hand, ran. Without so much as putting on a sock, Harry burst out of Gryffindor tower and flew down the halls as fast as his legs could move, laughing and crying. He sped by a number of his fully-clothed peers who stared after the purple blur and weren't quite sure if it really had been Harry Potter. He came to the Ravenclaw pillar in time to dodge around a shocked fourth-year on her way to breakfast, racing into the common room and up the stairway. It was there he nearly plowed right into the very person he was running to.

"Harry!" Azar said, shocked at meeting one of the last people she expected to be on her stairwell. "What are you doing here?
"You're wearing your robes and those bright blue tennis shoes that have holes in the bottoms," he said breathlessly, his eyes shining. "And your Prefect badge is pinned on upside-down."

Azar's face broke into a smile and she took Harry in her arms, crying, "You can see!"

Harry just nodded, unable to get any words out.

The definite cause of Harry's recovery was never certain, but, it was reported by some, later that day Sirius Black burst into the office of the Potions professor and embraced him. Some also remarked that, should some ever be asked about the incident, some will deny having said a word lest some get a goblet full of poison from a hook-nosed man and a nasty bite from a very large and temperamental dog.

Naturally, Harry found his way to the infirmary soon after visiting the Ravenclaw tower, and after an hour of Madam Pomfrey tapping one frame or the other and saying, "Better or worse?" Harry Potter found himself able to see clearer than ever.

Homework was completely out of the question. After the longest party on school record, it was discovered that the morning had brought quite a few centimeters of snow, bringing about the largest snowball fight in school history, all houses participating. Needless to say, a number of Gryffindors and Slytherins (and a few Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws that got in the way) went off to the infirmary with bruised eyes, swollen lips, and bloody noses after getting hit with ice balls that the throwers "could have sworn they were just snow, honest." Madam Pomfrey was far from pleased. Despite the numerous injuries, however, she was just about the only one.

****

That snowstorm was just the first of many that came sporadically through the first week of December. Quidditch season was over until spring, Christmas Holiday was close enough to taste, and Easter Holidays, when their workload peaked, was far away. It was that perfect time of year when the stress of starting school was over and the stress of ending it had yet to begin. The five friends spent a good deal of their time in the corner of the library farthest away from Madam Pince's desk, doing some homework but mostly talking. They were doing this the Friday before Christmas Holiday. As they talked and laughed, Harry noticed that Azar was being particularly quiet. Yet there was a smile on her face as though she was trying to hold back a bout of evil laughter.

"Azar, are you hiding something from us?" Harry asked with a smile.

"Me?" she asked innocently. "Oh, never."

"Well, that's a yes," Ron said, taking his feet off the table so he could lean into the conversation.

Azar's eyes sparkled from one person to the next. "Can I tell you something? Something secret?"

"Of course," Draco said. "But if you want it to stay a secret, that's another matter."

"Oh shush, Draco," Hermione scowled. "Tell us, Azar."

"I had a prophecy last night."

Harry felt a little taken aback. After all, Azar normally kept her prophecies to herself, and even when she didn't, they never seemed cheerful. In fact, they were often anything but. She must have understood the look on his face because she said quickly, "Don't worry, this was a good one. It was about us, all of us, fifteen…at least ten years in the future. I'm not sure… It came all in bits and pieces, flashes and voices. But I understood the gist of it."

"And?" Hermione said eagerly.

"Oh, wait, you thought I was going to tell you?"

"Azar! You can't—"

Azar laughed, holding her hands up in defense. "Whoa, ebb the eruption, I was only joking. You had a little boy, Hermione."

Hermione blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"You had a little boy," Azar repeated as though trying to hold back giggles. "At least you were holding him. I don't know for sure if he was yours. And Ron, you had a beard! I couldn't figure out who you were for the longest time!"

Ron joined Azar's laughter. Her good mood was awfully catching.

"What about me?" Draco asked. "What did I look like?"

"No, I didn't see you, Draco, but I think I heard your voice. You said something…well, about a betrothal announcement…"

"Really?" the Slytherin said, raising an eyebrow in interest. "Happen to catch a glimpse of the lucky lady?

Azar laughed and shook her head, her eyes still dancing. They turned to Harry, meeting his green pair. "It was your birthday, Harry. Sirius made a cake. There was a little boy, not the one Hermione was holding; much older. He had such a thoughtful face, and tousled black hair and vivid green eyes. Someone commented on how he looked so much like his fa…well, his predecessor." Everyone looked at Harry, sort of laughing without making a sound. "The little boy, I think, was carrying the cake to you so you could blow out the candles, but it looked like he'd already done the job for you." Her laugh rang even louder at this and Harry joined in. As a contented silence slowly settled in, Azar added in a wispy sigh, "He really was the sweetest little thing."

Harry had the strangest mix of absolute terror and elation dancing his stomach, and there was nothing he wanted to know more than whether the boy was his, was possibly even theirs. The question, however, was too strange to be asked aloud, and Harry was sure that Azar wouldn't be positive as to what the answer was.

That evening after dinner, Azar "kidnapped" Harry. In all truth, she simply held her hand over his eyes and led him down the hall, telling him persistently not to peek. They hadn't gone far when Azar led him through a door, closing it behind him. Harry was pretty sure they'd just entered an empty classroom. Before he could say anything, Azar removed her hand, crying, "Happy Christmas, Harry legs!"

It took Harry's eyes a while to adjust to the dim light of a single candle, but when they did he saw a piece of blue cloth that was clearly covering something that hovered a few feet off the ground. The something was apparently long and fairly skinny.

"I wonder what it could be…" Harry mused, beaming at Azar.

He withdrew the cloth and felt all the color drain from his face. It was exactly what he expected, yet at the same time nothing at all like he imagined. Three concentric circles tapered away from where the handle met the tail, the rest of it a deep, shining mahogany. Harry could swear he almost heard it humming with electricity. Blazoned on the top of the handle in gold were the words "Quasar II."

"Azar…"

"You're welcome," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder.

"This costs the same as a small house," he said weakly.

"If it was made of straw, had no roof, and was situated by the railroad tracks, then yes."

"Azar—I—You can't! I can't keep this; it's too much. Take it back."

"Harry, you're acting as though I killed someone," she smiled. "Don't worry. I got a great deal; my mum's got connections."

"In the wizarding world?"

Azar laughed. "Yes, well, funny story there. Turns out the Needlebits, our neighbors, are witches and wizards. Mum accidentally let "Hogwarts" pass her lips once and they were elated. Mrs. Needlebit evidently works for an owl mail-order gift service thing, and so I got this for about half the price."

Harry paused, uncertain. "You're not just telling me this to stop my griping, are you?"

"Honestly, would I be able to just make up a story like that?"

"I wouldn't put it past you."

Azar laughed, hugging him. "You are a funny, funny boy. Just tell me you like it."

"Oh, I do. It's—wow. But—"

"Well, then, my plan worked. I got you in a good mood."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "And why exactly did you want me in a good mood?"

Azar smiled innocently. "So I could ask you to come to my house for Christmas."

Harry smiled just as sweetly back at her. "Not on your life."

"Oh, c'mon, Harry. My parents are starting to think I made you up."

Harry bit his lip. "This summer. I promise I'll meet them this summer."

"Harry James Potter, I just can't believe you," she said with mock scold, turning her back on him and folding her arms.

"Ah, Azar, c—"

"I'm not speaking to you."

With a smile, Harry snuck up behind her, figuring a good tickling was just what she needed right now.

"And just remember this," she warned, "I'll always get you one better, so don't try it."

"What am I supposed to do, then?" Harry said, slightly put out.

"Wallow in your agony," Azar said airily, still not turning around. "Especially when you find out that I had more planned if you were going to come meet my parents." She gave a great sigh. "But now I guess I'll never get the chance."

"Ah, Azar, you can't do that to me. Just a little hint?"

"Let's go for a ride," Azar said, turning around and beaming as she ended the topic. "And don't worry about the cold. I've got three cloaks."

"Three?"

She hurried over and pulled them from a desk. "See? Mine, yours, and your other one." She held up a familiar, shimmery cloak that looked like water spun into cloth. Harry stared at her with a slack jaw.

"You know, I didn't tell you the Gryffindor password so you could sneak in and take me stuff."

"I know. It's just an added bonus," she said, clasping his cloak around him. "So, let's go!"

"Guess I don't really have any other choice."

"Would you want another choice?"

"Maybe," he smiled, bobbing an eyebrow at her. "But this'll do."

After mounting, they made sure the invisibility cloak covered them completely.

"Ready?" Harry asked.

"Ready."

They pushed off and out the window, and instantly Harry brought the Quasar into a dive as though they were simply falling. He gave a loud whoop and heard Azar echo it behind him. At the last moment, he pulled up. The response of the broom caught him off guard at first, causing them to shoot straight up, but he quickly steadied it.

"Did I scare you?" Harry called back.

"Not in the least!" Azar laughed. "I know my Harry legs would never let me get hurt."

As though to prove her wrong, Harry dived back down, heading for the lake. He pulled up so they rode just above the surface, skimming the lake with their toes. Azar laughed, exposing a foot to try and splash Harry, though the cloak protected him.

"You know," she said slyly, "just a simple push and you'd be soaking."

Harry stared back at her in surprise. Why did this seem so familiar?

"Harry?"

He shook his head to get out of his thoughts. "I was just wondering how you'd achieve that when we're on the same broom and under the same cloak. I'd be taking you with me."

"Good point."

They stayed out till well past midnight, when Harry dropped Azar off at her dormitory window. As she stepped through, one of her roommates stirred, waking and looking at them. For a long time, she stared at the two, who stared right back. Then, with a low moan, the girl closed her eyes, rolled over, and went back to bed. Harry and Azar had to stifle their laughter.

"Ten galleons says she'll wake up tomorrow and tell me she had the 'strangest dream' about me," Azar whispered.

"I never bet against a sure thing," Harry smiled.

They kissed, and then Harry rode back to Gryffindor Tower to spend the rest of the night staring happily at the ceiling.

****

When Harry and Ron came up to the dormitory Sunday night, laughing and talking, they opened the door to find Percy staring pensively at Dean's football poster.

"Percy! Hallo!" Ron said, smiling.

His brother gave him an odd look, but returned the greeting.

"So what brings you to your old haunts?" Ron asked, plopping down on his bed.

"Harry, actually," Percy replied, his mien softening and turning to Harry. "I just heard you got your sight back. I'm glad."

"Thanks," Harry said with a smile.

"You only now heard?" Ron asked incredulously.

"I've been very busy, Ronald."

The conversation he and Ron had what seemed so long ago suddenly struck Harry, as did the question he wanted an answer to. "Percy," he said tentatively, "what do you mean by 'taking someone with you'?"

Percy suddenly became quite awkward. Ron perked up, as though he'd completely forgotten about all that. It was a while before they got an answer. "I…I don't know if I'm allowed to tell you."

"You're dead, Percy," Ron scoffed. "Honestly, how can you get punished beyond that?"

Percy gave him a not-amused look. "I meant exactly what I said: when I go, someone will be coming with me. Someone who's alive right now."

"Who?" Harry asked, his eyes wide.

"I don't know."

"Oh, come off it, Percy!" Ron insisted, going a bit red in the face. "Just tell us."

"I really don't know, Ron!" Percy said testily. "All I know is that guides are sent to bring someone back whom they know. It could be just about anybody, or even nobody, but there's still a good chance. That's why I warned you, Ron. And Harry would do well to follow the same advice."

"What?" Ron said, holding up a hand to halt the conversation. "It could be nobody? Aren't you working for someone who's supposed to know when people are about to die?"

Percy gave a condescending look that could only come from an older brother. "Look, it took me a year to prepare for this job. When I finally come, I have, at most, one year to wait, no exceptions. Whether someone dies or lives depends a good deal on choices. As people have a tendency to change their minds, I'm prepared for any outcome. My greatest hope is that I return alone, which is why I am telling you again, Ron: don't do anything stupid."

Ron rolled his eyes. "I think I'm able to take care of myself. After all, you taught me how…" His eyes suddenly glanced at Harry, his voice fading a moment. "…er, how not…to be unsmart."

Percy gave him a dark look and the brothers proceeded to have a silent argument over something they apparently didn't want Harry to know about.

"What are you two hiding?" he asked outright, sick of being in the dark.

Ron shrugged. "Nothing."

"It's just a family thing," Percy added.

Harry shook his head, but let it drop. "Well, here's hoping your job fails completely, Percy," he said cheerily.

Percy gave a laugh. "Yes, I certainly hope that will be the case."

"Well, it shouldn't be me. Taking your younger brother would be just plain rude." Ron smiled broadly.

Percy gave him a weary look. "Ronald, I'm a guide. Guides don't practice favoritism."

****

The day for students to leave for Christmas Holidays arrived seemingly in a blink. Azar was the only one of the five going home. Hermione had told her parents that she wanted her last Christmas at Hogwarts to be spent at Hogwarts. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were off to Romania for the holiday, Charlie still at work and Bill having business with the Romanian Minister of Magic. Ron didn't feel like joining them; whenever he talked with his parents, Percy sat heavily on his mind. Harry and Draco, naturally, had no place else to go. The rest of Gryffindor was conveniently going home, so Harry and Ron asked Draco if he wanted to room with them over the holidays. The Slytherin gladly accepted.

The five stood out in the snow, dressed in heavy cloaks as a light snow fell, saying their good-bye-for-nows. Azar had lined them up, insisting that she wanted to do things "properly."

"See ya, Hermione," Azar said, hugging the girl tightly then pulling away. "Still got it?"

"Always," Hermione said with a grin to indicate this was some great joke that the boys could never understand.

Azar laughed. "Be sure to explore. There are many roads to choose. But also know where you want to end up."

Hermione looked slightly confused, but let it pass. Azar then turned to Ron, who held his hand out for her to shake it.

"Oh, don't think you'll just get away with that!" she exclaimed, embracing him.

When she let go, Ron was wearing a sheepish grin.

"Be strong," she told him. "Stand by your beliefs, and your friends. Don't forget who you are."

"Come off it, Azar," he said, half between laughter and embarrassment. "You make it sound like I'm going off to university."

"Sorry," she said with a smile. "Just feeling a bit wistful, I guess."

Draco was next. She hugged him tightly.

"Be good, okay?" she asked him. "And watch after Harry. Make sure he doesn't get into any trouble."

Draco grinned at her. "I'll be sure to."

She beamed, turning to Harry. He smiled slightly, and she wrapped her arms around him so suddenly, he almost had the air knocked out of him. But he just embraced her back, closing his eyes and burying his nose in her hair, as though trying to hold onto this one moment for an eternity. She tilted her head back, looking at him, and he leaned forward, kissing her. After a few moments, Azar pulled away reluctantly, looking at him with half-closed eyes. "I'm going to miss your kiss so much while I'm gone."

"If it's any consolation," he said with a smile, "I promise I'll never wash this mouth again. Well, at least until after you come back."

"At which point I will faint from the stench," Azar said with a laugh.

"Okay, so maybe I should."

"Good idea," she agreed, tapping his nose.

"And I promise I'll give you your gift once you get back."

"Oh yeah? You're just doing that so it can be my birthday gift, too."

"Am I that transparent?" he grinned.

Azar shook her head with a laugh. Then reluctantly, she backed away. "I guess I should go," she said, a little melancholy, walking towards the carriages.

"'Bye, Azar," Ron said, cocking his head to the side.

"We'll miss you terribly," Hermione smiled.

"Later, Fate," Draco called.

"Later, Dragon," Azar called back.

Her eyes met Harry's before she went to step in the carriage. He gave her a small smile, waving slightly. She hesitated a moment, then suddenly sprinted back to him, flinging her arms around his neck and planting her lips on his. Harry got over his shock quickly, but it returned just as swift. Her kiss was strong, fervent even. One of her hands clung almost painfully to his back, while the other tangled itself in his hair. It was all a little more zealous than he was used to.

"Azar," he said, pulling back slightly, "Um…"

He nodded his head towards their friends, who were all trying to act as though they hadn't seen a thing. Azar sighed, dropping her eyes.

"I know, sorry, it's just…"

She broke off, tears coming to her eyes. Harry was slightly alarmed, wondering if there was something she wasn't telling him.

"Hey, Azar," he said quietly, holding her face in his hands. "Don't cry. Please don't cry."

"I'm just going to miss you so much," she sighed, trying to control her tears.

"You'll be back soon. It's not like we're going to be apart forever," he assured her.

She smiled, eyes still shining. "Yeah, I guess not." She looked at all of them, giving a laugh. "I just feel so left out! You all get to spend Christmas together!"

"Then stay," Draco suggested.

Azar shook her head. "I miss my family, too. Why couldn't you all just come to my house, huh?"

"Know what?" Harry said determinedly. "Next Christmas, I promise we'll be together, no matter what. Even if it means meeting your entire family."

She laughed. "I'll hold you to that."

Giving Harry one last kiss, she finally entered the carriage and it took off. She waved for a long time, till the snowfall swallowed the carriage up. Long after she disappeared, the four stared after her, standing in the cold.

"I don't know about you, but I'm freezing," Ron finally said. There was a long pause, then he piped up again. "First one to the common room gets the chair by the fire."

They all glanced at each other and then, as if reacting to some silent signal, they scrambled for the door, trying to get ahead of the others. They took the stairs by threes, running down the halls and filling the empty castle with laughter.

****

When Harry woke up Christmas morning, he wasn't exactly sure why. Gradually, however, he recognized that there was a loud clanging echoing throughout the tower. It sounded strangely like his old school's fire alarm…

He shot straight out of bed, snatching up his glasses and yelling, "Ron! Draco! Get up! FIRE!!!"

Ron apparently hadn't heard the loud bell, groggily sticking his head out of his curtains with a hoarse, "Wha…?"

Harry snatched his hand, yanking him out of bed. Then he quickly turned to find that Draco had already woken up and seemed to have been in the process of dressing; he stood shirtless, his hands over his ears.

"What the hell is that noise?" he yelled as he spotted Harry.

"Fire!" Harry said quickly, snatching Draco's arm and then bolting out of the dormitory.

The three stumbled down the stairs, Ron and Draco objecting to the retreat while Harry simply ignored them in a panic. He came to a screeching halt, however, when he entered the common room and finally saw the source of the noise. There was a large bell, suspended in midair and ringing as though it was the apocalypse. Instantly, when they entered, it stopped.

"Happy Christmas!" Remus Lupin and Sirius Black said simultaneously, beaming wide at the blurry-eyed boys.

"You have got to be joking," Ron said in a monotone, his neck hunched.

"Sorry for the rude awakening—well, not sorry, but you get the idea," Sirius laughed, slapping Ron on the back.

"I thought it was a fire alarm," Harry said in disbelief.

Sirius looked a bit confused, then turned to Remus.

"It's something Muggles use to detect smoke. It gives off a loud ringing sound," he explained. "I would have thought Harry would have realized that one wouldn't work at Hog—"

Suddenly, they heard a loud scrambling from the girls' staircase. They all turned to find Hermione—Crookshanks in one hand, a stack of books in the other—practically falling down the stairs. She halted as soon as she spotted the others, however, staring.

"What's going on?" she asked, a little breathless.

"Sorry, Hermione," Sirius smiled, taking the bell from its suspended position. "Just a bit of a practical joke."

The books came tumbling from Hermione's arms, crashing on the floor. Crookshanks soon followed, leaping away.

"Oh, that was rotten!" Hermione cried, her hands on her hips. "I could just shoot you!"

"Ah, but the question is, Hermione, with what?" Remus said with a smile.

"Easy, Moony," Sirius said nonchalant. "A silver bullet."

"Ouch, Padfoot."

"Yes, I know, I have such a biting wit."

There was silence a moment, the students still waking up. "Well," Remus finally said, "since you're already awake, who's up for opening presents?"

Ron perked up instantly.

"Here, Harry," Sirius said, handing the bell to his godson. "It's quite useful when you want to annoy the whole tower every once in a while."

"Of course, in Padfoot language, 'every once in a while' translates into 'daily'," Remus laughed.

Hermione finally seemed to take in everyone around her, her eyes resting on Draco. "Um, Draco, did you plan on coming down like that to blind us or was it just a happy accident?" she said, smiling.

"Whoa, Draco," Harry said with a laugh, also finally realizing that Draco was currently without shirt. "A little pale, are we?"

Color came to Draco's face, but he just smirked, flexing his arms. "Jealous, Potter?"

"I'm not sure… You're too transparent. I can't tell if you've got any muscle."

"Here," laughed Ron, tossing Draco a lumpy package that Harry recognized only all too well. "Stop blinding us, will ya?"

Draco opened the gift, pulling out a homemade, dark green sweater with a silver snake across the chest. Almost eagerly, he slipped it on.

"Well?" he asked, holding his arms out. "What do you think?"

"Absolutely beautiful," Hermione smiled.

"It suits you rather well," Sirius nodded.

Ron snorted.

Turning to him, Draco asked with a smirk, "What, Weasley? Not like it? Your mum made it, after all."

"That's what's so funny," Ron said, grinning. "You always mocked mine, but you seem almost proud of that one."

"Yours are another matter completely," Draco said loftily. "Maroon is a horrible color."

"Something we agree on," Ron said grimly.

Everyone quickly set about opening gifts. Each found a lumpy package among their gifts. ("Ug, speaking of maroon. Honestly, will she ever learn?") Then, dressed in the traditional Weasley manner, they headed down to breakfast. The rest of the day passed in a whirl of food, drinks, and celebrating. After lunch, they headed outside and made use of the plentiful snow. The arm of Ron's snowman kept falling off, no matter how hard he tried to stick it on. Dinner was a glorious affair of hot food and wizard crackers, a few professors (including Hagrid and Sirius) singing a very tipsy version of "Deck the Halls." Finally, groggy and swaying from the abundance of food, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco headed back to the Gryffindor tower and to bed. Harry fell asleep as soon as his head hit his pillow, not even removing his glasses.

He found himself in a large house. There were a good many people gathered around the fireplace, singing and smiling. A number of small children were curled up on the sofas and floor, sleeping. Then, behind them all, he spotted Azar. She was hunched over a glass of eggnog, and he saw her drop something in it. He had a strong suspicion that it was Tongue Twisting Tonic.

"Here's your eggnog, Uncle Martin!" she said heartily, turning back towards the group.

Bam! Suddenly, the door flew open and across the room. Screams came from the family. A torrent of cloaked figures swarmed into the home. They wore white masks.

"Avada Kedavra!"

All was chaos and green lights. Everyone kept screaming. Harry felt the panic tear through his whole being. Azar! Where was Azar? As if in answer, Harry's view shifted. He was in a small bedroom. Out the door, there was green light. Inside, Azar snatched up her broom, flung open a window, and soared out.

"Stop her!"

Harry turned to find himself facing the vile visage of Lord Voldemort. He rushed back to the window; he had to warn her!

"Azar!"

Harry bolted up, sweat dotting his face. He took a few deep breaths, but no, he knew it wasn't just a dream. He flung open his bed curtains. Ron peered warily from his.

"Harry! Did you…"

"Yes."

"The Death Eaters…and Azar?"

"Yes, yes," Harry said quickly, snatching on his slippers. He didn't know what he was planning to do, but he knew he had to do it quickly. Ron slowly stood up.

"Maybe it was just a dream," Ron said hopefully, but not really believing the words as he spoke them.

"No, I still feel her fear," Harry said, his eyes closed tight.

He suddenly opened them, standing up sharply. "I have to go. She needs me," he said in a panic.

He rushed for the door, but only made it half way. A sharp, searing pain exploded in his forehead and he crashed to the floor, clutching his scar and screaming.

"Harry! Harry!!!" Ron yelled anxiously, kneeling by his friend.

"Cruciatus," he managed to whisper before a new onslaught of pain brought more screams.

It was dark. He was in the middle of a open area of grass, trees sparced about. He could see a streetlamp and a damp road beyond it. Suddenly, six cloaked figures swooped down, dismounting brooms. One of them was very tall and pale. Harry felt himself pulled forward after them, and saw they were headed toward a figure on the ground by a broken broomstick: Azar.

As the figures approached, Harry saw Azar's face contort in terror. She tried to scramble away, but one leg hung useless, broken in the fall from her broom.

"Hold her," the Dark Lord commanded.

Two Death Eaters came forward, each taking one of Azar's arms and pinning her to the ground. Voldemort walked towards her, and Harry saw her eyes go from terrified to defiant.

"If I had known you were a Seer the last time we met, Azar Zundel," he said, a malicious smile donning his lipless mouth, "you would never have gotten away. Your abilities could be very accommodating to my cause."

Azar just glared at him.

From his robes, Voldemort withdrew a small vial of clear liquid. "Of course I knew you wouldn't comply willingly," he said.

He removed the cap, moving to make her drink it. Quickly, Azar kicked, knocking the vial away and spilling its contents.

"Crucio!"

Azar writhed and Harry screamed, though not from pain. The Dark Lord held the spell a long time, and when it was finally pulled off, Azar slumped to the ground with weakness. The two Death Eaters didn't need to hold her arms anymore.

"So," Voldemort said, withdrawing another vial, "will you be more accommodating, or do you need more persuasion?"

He held his wand against her chest. Azar breathed deep, trying to get beyond the pain. Suddenly, her eyes seemed to flick over to Harry. Her face relaxed a bit and she gave the ghost of a smile. Confused, Voldemort looked behind him. It was then Azar seized her chance. She grabbed the end of Voldemort's wand. The man cried out, trying to wrench it away, but Azar actually pressed the tip hard against her chest.

"Somnora!!!" she cried.

Harry was engulfed by a great green light, and inside it felt as though he were being torn into thousands of pieces.

"Azar!"

Again, Harry woke up covered in sweat.

Ron sat on the edge of his bed, as though his legs had simply given way. His hands gripped painfully to the mattress. His face was ash pale, his mouth parted in shock and tears streaming down his cheeks. Harry lay on the floor, his hands clenched tightly against the stone, and stared into nothingness. He couldn't remember ever feeling so empty.

"She's dead," he whispered as though a solitary breeze among the icy forest.

Ron shook his head slowly, biting his bottom lip

"She's dead," Harry repeated louder, trying to convince himself.

"No," Ron croaked, shaking uncontrollably. Harry didn't say a thing, motionless.

Suddenly, he sprang up, heading for the door. Coming out of his daze, Ron galloped down the stairs after him, unable to object or stay behind. When he got to the common room, however, Harry's sudden sprint came to an instant halt. Ron slowed to a stop behind him. There sat a figure, staring at the few glowing embers left in the fireplace. Hearing the hurried footsteps, Hermione looked up from her seat, her eyes shining in the weak light. Slowly, she stood up, the trio looking at each other in motionless silence. Then Hermione, looking straight at Harry, held out her arms.

"Oh, Harry."

He fell to his knees, burying his face in his hands. It was true… It was true.

~*~*~

A/N: I have nothing to say but thank you for the reviews, and no, this isn't the end of the book. That's a ways off, though I promise it will be out before book 5.

Liliana-Suger: *blush* Wow, I'm flattered. Thank you!

Jeanne: No! I'll never tell! ^_^ Thanks!

jona: Aw, Jo, stop, you're making me flush. ^_^ Hm… You won't be so chuffed with this chapter, me thinks. Thanks, as always, for your thoroughly heartening reviews!!!

abbey: Here's to impossibility! *raises glass; no one joins the toast* Ah well. Aw, Abbey, you makin' me a bit sniffly. Thank you. ^_^ If 'someone' is me, then yes. *goes all innocent* Ron was merely getting his wand. That's all.

Starry: UnHufflepuffy… That's a good word. I'll have to remember it. ^_^ Thanks!

Gary Trotter: Ginny just didn't want to take on a 'guide' job. *shrug* Hey, I didn't want to deal with her, what can I say? ^_^ Thanks!

Kelly: *pouts* Keeeeeeeeeeelllllllllllyyyyyyyyy… We miss you, girl. *sniffle* Well, this chapter solves some of those triangle problems… Thanks for reviewing!

Mystery: Yeah, I would have found a better ending, too, but my beta insisted it was fine. Shows me for taking her advice… *beams at Katina* Anyway, yeah, I noticed I was leaving Hagrid out of things. *sigh* Don't worry; I plan on having at least a few more scenes with him. Heehee…squashing Skeeter the bug… Deliciously devilish. ^_^ Thanks!

Sonata: Nope, he's not always going to be blind, but that's just a secret between you and me. *laugh* Hm…depends on your definition of "naughty." ^_^ Why ask? ("squee squee squee"??? Hehehe, I like.) From a writer's point of view, I LOVE it when people ask questions. First of all, it feeds the desires of my omniscient, power-hungry mind. *bwa-ha-ha* But also, more than once a reviewer has asked a "Is this going to happen?" question and I thought, "Dude, that's such a great idea. It's gonna happen now." *teehee* Thank you, as always, Nata, I love reading your reviews.

Be Excellent to Each Other,

-Ady