A/N: Thank you a hundred times, dear readers, for your wonderful, thoughtful reviews! Mum and I received a ton of in-depth comments and constructive criticism for the last chapter, and those are always the kinds of feedback we like the most!

Chapter Thirty-Two: Comfort and Joy

Cellophane crackled as Harry unwrapped his fifth Giant Chocolate Cordial. I really ought to stop eating these things, he mused. But he popped it into his mouth, balled up the wrapper, and tossed it across the room.

George and Fred were sitting slouched against the wall in a sugar-induced stupor, with a growing pile of sweet wrappers between them. Fizzing Whizbees, Chocolate Frogs, Double Fudge Nougat Squares, Giant Chocolate Cordials, Sugar-coated Jellied Fruit Balls, and Crystallized Tart Bombs were just a few of the delicacies whose wrappers had been donated to the pile over the last hour of the sweets binge.

Every so often, one of the twins would pick up a wrapper, toss it into the air and use his wand to shoot it across the room.

Hermione and Ginny were basking in the warmth of the fire, lying on the floor in front of the hearth, whispering things to each other and giggling hysterically in a manner reminiscent of Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown. Ron was sprawled sideways across an armchair with his legs dangling over the arm and a dazed grin on his face as he watched the sweet wrappers soaring past. (He'd tried to catch a few of them, but missed.)

Harry, sitting on the sofa slumped against Sirius's shoulder, found the whole scene rather funny and kept bursting into fits of helpless snickering. They had all consumed far beyond what ought to be the legal limit for sugar.

One of the twins, with a mischievous grin, shot a balled up wrapper directly at Bill's head. Bill laughed and slapped it back across the room, causing it to ricochet off Percy's nose.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, looking up from his book in outrage.

At Percy's expression, Ron burst out laughing and slid off the chair onto the floor. Pleased with their success, the twins began shooting wrappers wildly in every direction. Crookshanks and Bastet tore around the room in a frenzy, trying to bat as many as they could.

"All right, all right. That's enough." Mrs. Weasley admonished them, stepping over the still giggling Ron to scold the twins.

Just then, a wrapper sailed past her ankle, and the two cats shot after it – straight between her legs. Mrs. Weasley shrieked, lost her balance, and would have fallen if Mr. Weasley hadn't jumped up in time to catch her.

The twins fell into each others arms, tears of laughter streaming down their faces. Ginny and Hermione were rolling on the floor, screaming with laughter. Ron, sprawled on his stomach next to the Christmas tree, was slapping the carpet in hysteria. Harry was laughing so hard, he fell across Sirius's legs and buried his face in the sofa pillows.

Mr. Weasley righted his wife and pulled his wand out of his pocket. "All right! Game's over, you lot. Evanesco"

The wrappers disappeared. "Awwwww!"

Mrs. Weasley rummaged under the tree, pulled out a brightly-colored box and handed it to Charlie. "For heaven's sake, amuse them!"

"Hey, that's for Christmas!" protested Ginny.

"It's Christmas Eve," replied Charlie, taking the box. "Besides, I happen to know Gred and Forge have three more boxes of these. Here, you first." He pulled out a brightly-wrapped cracker.

Ginny obediently scooted across the floor toward him, then paused. "Wait a minute, did you say these are from Fred and George?"

"Totally harmless!" the twins chorused.

"Come on, Gin-gin, where's your Christmas spirit!" Charlie urged, brandishing the cracker.

"Okay," Ginny said mock-reluctantly, and took her end. "One…two…three…"

BANG! Confetti erupted , changing into a large flock of butterflies that set the cats in a frenzy again. The twins burst out laughing. "Charlie got it! Charlie got it!" as Ginny stared open-mouthed at her brother—who was now sporting a luxuriant handlebar moustache.

Charlie laughed too, then tugged at it. "It won't come off!"

"Not for at least three hours," chortled Fred. Charlie grinned, then began twirling the ends of the moustache, making everyone laugh harder.

George jumped up, grabbed a cracker from the box, and ran over to Percy.

"Come on, Perce—your turn."

Percy recoiled in horror. "No way!"

"Oh, go on, Percy, " said Ron, now watching the scene hanging upside down over the side of his arm chair.

"You have to, Percy," pleaded George. Fred began clapping his hands, and soon the entire room was chanting "Percy! Percy!"

Percy squeezed his eyes shut and took his end of the cracker.

"One….two….three…" BANG!

The entire room erupted into hysteria. Percy opened his eyes to see that George had sprouted a huge pair of elf ears.

"That's justice for you!" Harry declared, waving lazily from the sofa.

Fred picked up another cracker. "C'mon, Harry. You're next." Harry shook his head. "Oh, come on!"

Harry shook his head again. "I'm too…flollopy!"

Fred would have pressed further, but Sirius laughed. "For heaven's sake, let the boy flollop!"
Giggling, Hermione got to her feet. "I'll do it, but I better not wind up with a moustache!"

George laughed. "Fear not, sweet lady, no two tricks are alike in a single box."

With a sporting grin, Hermione took the other end of Fred's cracker, and shut her eyes.

"One….two…three…" BANG!

Everyone yelled simultaneously. Hermione's eyes flew open as everyone laughed and cheered. Hermione looked at Fred, and finding him suspiciously normal, began feeling over her face and examining her clothes. Ginny squealed, "Oh, Hermiiiione! Look up!"

She did, and gasped, "Oh, no!"

Ron sat bolt upright in his chair. "Wait just a bloody minute!"

A large sprig of mistletoe was hovering in the air over Hermione's head.

At her look of horror, George said gleefully, "You're bound, Miss Granger, to kiss a man—willingly—unrelated to you by blood."

Hermione folded her arms. "I'm bound I will NOT!"

Fred pointed at the mistletoe, triumphantly. "It stays there until you do, which makes you prey to every Weasley malein the room."

Ginny rolled on the floor, singing, "Ronnnnieeee!"

Ron's face was red to the roots of his hair. "I don't bloody perform on command!"

"What!" George exclaimed. "Won't even spare a little kiss to protect your lady's virtue?"

At that, Fred started towards Hermione with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

"Fred Weasley, if you touch me, I'll hex you three ways from Sunday!" Hermione threatened, backing up fast.

"Sorry, love," leered Fred. "Your wand won't work against prospective mistletoe-mates. We made sure of that."

As Hermione was backing up faster with a look of horror on her face, and Ron was scrambling out of his chair, the parlor door opened.

Hermione's mouth dropped open, and with a squeal of "Remus!" she launched herself at the shabby wizard standing in the doorway. Flinging her arms around his neck, she kissed him enthusiastically.

As the entire room exploded around them, Remus blinked, then laughed. "Why, thank you, Hermione."

The mistletoe had disappeared, but no one noticed as everyone crowded around to hug, shake hands, and exclaim over Remus Lupin. Even while accepting the raucous welcome, Remus's eyes were scanning the room. He went suddenly still as he observed Harry and Sirius standing together in front of the sofa. As if directed by an unheard signal, the group quieted and moved aside, and Remus walked over to the two. He smiled at Harry and gave his shoulder a squeeze, then turned to Sirius. For a long moment, they stared at each other in silence.

Finally Remus spoke. "Welcome back, Padfoot."

Harry felt tears prickling his eyes. Great, I'm going to start blubbering again!

Sirius grinned at Remus. "Thanks for coming to get me, Moony." The two men embraced fiercely. Behind them, Ginny and Hermione began sobbing uncontrollably. Harry's eyes stung fiercely, but Ron and the twins were crying too, and even Percy was sniffing and rubbing his eyes.

Remus looked around the group with a startled expression. Sirius rolled his eyes. "Oh no, not again! Molly!"

Molly Weasley, wiping her own eyes, stepped forward and began to herd the others out of the room. "All right. Enough for tonight. Fred and George, Ron, Hermione, Ginny—up to your rooms. Percy, Bill, Charlie—join your father and me in the kitchen, please."

Hermione sniffled. "What about Harry?" The group paused and looked back at him.

Remus smiled. "I have a few things I'd like to discuss with Harry before he turns in. I'll see the rest of you tomorrow."

Hermione nodded and headed out the door, followed by Ron. Harry couldn't suppress a grin, when he noticed that Ron had something in his hand hidden behind his back—something that looked suspiciously like a sprig of mistletoe. The others filed out behind them and closed the door, leaving Harry alone with Remus and Sirius.

Remus sat down on the sofa, and let out a sigh. He suddenly looked pale and tired. Harry and Sirius were beside him instantly.

"Remus?" Harry said. "Remus, are you okay?"

"I can call Molly back if you need her, Remus." Sirius was clearly concerned. "You don't look well."

Remus reached over and put an arm around Harry. "No, really. I'll be fine. I'm just a little tired. They wanted to keep me at St. Mungo's for a few more days, but I'd no intention of missing Christmas."

Harry felt his eyes brimming again. Damn! Why do I keep doing this? "Remus, what happened?"

Sirius nodded. "I wanted them to let me go back and join the search for you, but they felt that they had enough Aurors scouring the area. Dumbledore insisted that I stay here. I was none too happy about that order, believe me!"

"It was the right decision." Remus spoke quietly. "Harry needed you with him. And if any Death Eater had gotten a chance at you again, they'd have killed you on the spot." He broke into a grin. "How many times can you expect to get resurrected anyway?"

Sirius laughed. "So, what did happen to you?"

Remus shook his head. "The Fortress was much better manned with Death Eaters than during my last visit there. We met a lot of opposition while trying to get inside. I was hit almost right away, and knocked out cold. Once I came to, and tried to join the others, I ran into our least favorite witch."

"Bellatrix Lestrange," Harry said flatly. "What happened then?"

"She was pretty confident that she could finish me off, so she decided to 'play' a little. She's got some lovely hexes that she uses, just to cause maximum pain and injury. I took a direct hit from one of those." Sirius cringed and looked away.

Harry felt short of breath. "Remus, what did you…how'd you get away?" he asked, reaching up to touch the arm around his shoulders, just to reassure himself that Remus was really there.

"A couple of Aurors showed up. They were much more of a threat to Lestrange than I was, at that point. She took off, and they went after her. By that time, I wasn't thinking very clearly. I managed to make my way into the Forest, then finally back to the Mountain."

"How did you manage to avoid the Death Eaters?" Sirius asked. "The Forest must have been crawling with them."

"It was." Remus gave a dry chuckle. "I am a werewolf, you know. I'm rather good at skulking through the woods unseen."

Harry and Sirius both laughed. "And then?" Harry asked impatiently.

"Aurors picked me up on the mountain a couple of days later. At least, that's what they tell me." Remus shook his head. "I don't remember much until I woke up in St. Mungo's."

"But, how did you survive until the Aurors found you?" Harry shivered, remembering the cold cave in which he'd been sheltered by Snape, while the werewolf had stood guard outside.

"Truthfully, Harry," Remus stared into space. "I don't know. Somehow, the mountain kept me alive until help came. Maybe with the same magic that enabled me to keep my mind intact while I transformed when we were there before. We may never know what it was."

Harry tried to smile, but his eyes filled up again. Remus pulled him closer and shot a worried look at Sirius. Acknowledging the look with a nod, Sirius said, "He's had a rough time." Sirius described Harry's loss of control that had led to the death of Kreacher. "Then I turned up and shocked the hell out of him."

Remus's look of concern deepened. "How did you react?

Sheepishly, Harry muttered, "I fainted."

Remus laughed, in spite of himself. "I don't blame you!"

"And then," Sirius continued, "I got the exact same treatment from the rest of them that you did just now. I've never seen so many people crying at the same time!"

"Whew!" Remus wiped his forehead in a gesture of exaggerated relief. "Thank God for Molly Weasley!" This time, they all laughed.

The grin left Harry's face. "There's something else. Hermione's parents are here, and they're really upset. Her dad wants to take her away from here. He's convinced that I'm as much a threat to her as the Death Eaters."

"You?" Remus looked at Harry, who dropped his gaze to the floor and refused to meet his eyes. "Because you burned her hair?"

Harry's voice shook slightly. "Because he saw what happened to Kreacher."

Remus turned to Sirius. "We need to see Mr. Granger first thing in the morning and convince hm not to remove Hermione. She won't last long away from here."

"Actually," Sirius responded, "that's been taken care of by Hermione herself. She let him know, in no uncertain terms, that she won't leave. He had to concede the point."

Remus gave a sigh of relief. "It can't be easy for her, pulled between two worlds like that." He shook his head. "I'm glad it's settled, in any case. Now, back to Harry."

Harry pulled a face. "Mr. Granger's right. I'm a threat to everyone when I can't control my emotions—or my magic. And there's no way I can handle Voldemort if I can't handle myself."

Remus said, "Then we'll make working on that a priority,and now you'll have both of us to help you."

Sirius got up and came to sit on the other side of Harry. "Wandless magic is difficult to control. But if indoor hurricanes and shattering windows are any indication, you could give Voldemort hell once you mastered that power."

The chiming of a clock interrupted them, and they sat together listening to it ring out twelve times.

Remus squeezed Harry's shoulders. "Happy Christmas, Harry."

Sirius repeated the gesture from the other side. "I say, shouldn't we be lighting the candles?"

They both pulled out their wands and headed for the tree. Harry sat and watched. Even though the Christmas candles didn't cast much light over the parlor, Grimmauld Place no longer felt so gloomy. The house was full now, and the people here were his family.

The war and the prophecy weren't going away, but the gnawing fear that had consumed him for six months was gone. He still had a battle to fight, but he wouldn't be alone.

I can do this.

Harry was awakened on Christmas morning by several bodies abruptly bouncing upon his bed. He clawed his way out of the covers, grunting in surprise, to be greeted by three red heads hovering over him. "All right, Potter, up, up, UP!" ordered Ron. "We've got presents to open."

"Geroff!" Harry grumbled, but hid his grin in his pillow.

"Come on, come on, Father Christmas has been here!" Ron insisted, tugging at the bedclothes.

Harry playfully buried his head under the pillow. "Bah, humbug!"

"Oh dear, the lad's getting obstinate on us," he heard the twins say. "This may call for drastic measures!"

"Hey!" he protested. "You can't hex me on Christmas Day!"

"You're being a grinch!" Ron retorted, laughing.

With a melodramatic groan, Harry pulled the pillow tighter over his ears, but found he couldn't hold the blanket at the same time, which led to the bedclothes being yanked off unceremoniously and someone grabbing his ankles. "Up with you! UP!" George and Ron were bellowing, dragging him from the bed.

"Hey, whatever happened to Peace on Earth?" he demanded as they herded him out the door in his pajamas.

"No time for peace on earth," replied George. "We're to gather up the girls and head for the parlor."

When they reached Hermione and Ginny's bedroom door, the twins forewent knocking and instead burst into song.

"We three kings of Orient are,
Smoking on a rubber cigar!
As we smoked it,
It exploded—
We two kings of Orient are,
Smoking on a rubber—"

The door flew open. "That's disgusting!" Hermione exclaimed, aghast. (Ginny was doubled over laughing.)

"And a merry Christmas to you too, Miss Granger," said Fred primly.

They took the stairs in a wild rush only to be brought up short by a pair of firmly closed parlor doors. Turning the knobs, knocking tentatively, then pounding, even Hermione's casting of Alohomora failed to gain them entrance to the room. Puzzled, the group stepped back, stared at the doors, then at each other.

As Harry and Ron shrugged helplessly, the twins nodded firmly at each other and burst into song again at the top of their voices.

"'Ark the 'erald, ayngels siiing,
Gloray tew the new bohn Kiiing!
Payce on Arth and Mercey Myyyald,
Gawd and sinners recawnciled!"

The doors flew open. "There'll be no peace on Earth with all that blooming noise going on!" laughed Mr. Weasley. "Okay, we're ready for you!"

"What, no tip?" demanded the twins as the group followed him in.

Then they stopped.

The room had expanded to twice its normal size and was lit with hundreds of candles and a blazing fire in the hearth. In a velvet armchair beside the Christmas tree sat a gigantic figure, Father Christmas himself from the looks of it. His hair and beard were white and curly, a wreath of holly was on his head, and he wore deep green robes trimmed in fur. There was a smile on his face as he beckoned the group closer.

Giving a deep chuckle, he demanded, "All righ' then, ready fer yer presents?"

"Hagrid!" everyone said at once.

"That's Father Christmas ter you, now sitcherselves down so we can get started!" said the transformed Hagrid. "Lotsa stuff here, someone's been well-behaved this year!"

They all scrambled to obey, and Harry watched in delight as brightly-wrapped packages began sailing in every direction to land neatly at the recipients' feet. The rush of gifts seemed to last forever; Harry had Christmas gifts ever since starting at Hogwarts, but he'd never been part of anything quite like this. Something had always been distracting them on Christmases past.

Not this year.

Finally everyone in the room had a respectable pile of gifts in front of them. Harry spotted Sirius and Remus standing against the wall (they were conducting the gift-delivery with their wands) and started to get up, but they waved him back down, both grinning broadly.

Hagrid opened his arms wide in a grand Father Christmas gesture. "Merry Christmas ter all! Well, don't just sit there, open 'em!"

Wrapping and ribbons flew in all directions. Harry usually liked to take unwrapping presents slowly, but today he just wasn't in the mood. The first one was a book: Catching the Golden Snitch, A History of Famous Seekers. The tag read, To one Seeker from another!

He flipped through the book to see moving pictures of Seekers performing various wild maneuvers before cheering throngs and saw that there was a chapter entirely on the most successful Snitch-catching tricks. "Wow, Ginny! This is great!" he exclaimed.

Ginny grinned. "Thought you'd like that. And thanks for the broom-servicing kit!"

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed, and Harry saw that Ron had opened his present. "When did you do this!" Harry's gift to Ron was a photo album of Ron at Quidditch—blocking the Quaffle, dodging Bludgers, being borne off the field on the shoulders of his teammates.

Harry laughed. "I got the pictures from Colin Creevy. He's built up a huge collection."

"Yeah, it turns out once in awhile he does take pictures of someone other than Harry," Ginny chuckled.

Ron passed the album off to Bill, Charlie, and the twins, and the book disappeared beneath a pile of red heads. On the other side of Harry, Hermione suddenly gasped. She had just opened Ron's gift. Harry turned to see her lifting from the box what appeared to be a string of peach and gold pearls that gleamed softly in the candlelight.

"Oh, Ron!"

Harry leaned forward, fascinated. The pearls didn't alternate their colors, but appeared to be on the string at random. Ginny exclaimed, "A Pearl Pea string! Oh, it's lovely!"

As Hermione cast a delighted smile at Ron and slipped the string around her neck, Mrs. Weasley asked, "What pattern charm did you use, Ron? I don't know the color schemes by heart."

Predictably, it was Hermione who answered. "It's protection and serenity...and it's beautiful. I love it, Ron!" She scrambled past Harry to Ron's side, then glanced nervously at the others and hugged him instead of what everyone expected.

"Aww," the twins groaned, "Come on, Hermione, you can do better than that."

"Sod off," Ron told them. "And thanks for this," he added to her, holding up a book of Chudley Cannons' Greatest Plays.

Ginny winked at Harry, and he grinned, turning back to his last gift. It was a familiar knobby bundle, and Harry had saved it for last. "Terrific," he said, holding up the emerald green jumper with the gold 'H' on the front. "This one's always my favorite."

The sound of a helpless sob made him drop the jumper in surprise. He turned to see Mrs. Weasley practically collapsing onto Mr. Weasley's shoulder, smiling broadly but with tears streaming down her face. Harry's mouth fell open. "I—I—is she—"

Mr. Weasley laughed. "You've just made her Christmas, Harry!"

After a massive breakfast, they returned to the parlor, which was back to its usual size. There the twins enticed them into a round of one of their newest games.

"That's cheating," Ginny exclaimed, as Ron threw down the King of Clubs and reached over greedily to scoop up the pile of shining chips. "That was my card!"

"Not so, Gin-Gin," said Fred. "It's perfectly legal in Weasley Poker for the cards to decide to leave your hand and move to someone else's."

"Honestly," groused Hermione. "What made them decide to favor Ron this game?"

"Obviously they sense my luck, my skill, my—"

Chips went flying as Harry, Ginny, and the twins piled on top of Ron. Then Hermione joined the fray, giggling hysterically, until they all collapsed on the floor. "Whew! That was one wild poker game," Harry gasped.

"Weasley Poker, played with a deck of cards from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes," said Fred, "guarantees a more than ordinary game."

"Hey!" said George. "Good slogan!" He poked Hermione. "Write that down!"

"Pardon!" Hermione laughed, slapping his hand away. "Do I look like your secretary?"

The parlor door opened. "What's all this, then?" They all looked up to see Tonks entering the room, wearing a short green dress, red and green striped tights, and red boots. Her hair was green and curly, and the tip of each curl was red.

"Tonks!" exclaimed George. "You look like a deranged Christmas elf!"

"Thanks! That's just the look I was trying for," said Tonks. "Got the Aurors' Christmas party tonight, have to show up in style!"

"You'll knock them dead," Ginny declared. "Even if it's only from fright."

Tonks winked, then looked around. "Where the devil's Sirius! It's Christmas Day, he's bloody back from the dead, and I haven't seen him yet!"

Just then the door opened again and Sirius and Remus entered, chatting merrily and carrying mugs of hot buttered rum. Tonks whirled around and threw herself at Sirius with a shriek. Remus sidestepped her and smoothly removed the mug of rum from Sirius's hand before the full impact of Tonks's greeting—with minimal spillage.

"I can't believe it," Tonks squealed. "Is it really you!"

"It's really me, little cousin," Sirius laughed, twirling her around. (Remus ducked, still clutching the mugs of rum.)

Behind him, Harry heard Hermione sniffle. Sirius dropped Tonks in an inelegant heap on the floor and whipped out his wand. Brandishing it at Hermione, he threatened, "Hermione Granger, you start crying again, and I promise, you'll be wearing a mistletoe wreath for the rest of the day!"

Hermione clapped a hand over her mouth, and the entire room burst into laughter. The door opened yet again and the rest of the Weasleys entered, accompanied by Mad-Eye Moody and a waft of delicious aroma.

"Mum!" exclaimed Ron. "When do we eat? I'm starving."

Hermione gave him a shove. "Really, Ronald. All you think about is eating!"

"In about an hour," said Mrs. Weasley. "Assuming I can get Hagrid to stop sampling everything."

The twins jumped up. "We'll roust him out!" They swung open the doors, only step back abruptly.

Professor Snape was standing in the doorway. Harry tensed immediately (and he wasn't the only one.) "Forgive the intrusion, Madam," Snape said.

"Is anything wrong?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

Snape gave a curt shake of his head. "I only require a word with Moody."

"Right, then," Moody followed Snape into the hallway, where they talked quietly for a moment, but Harry got the impression that it wasn't anything terribly urgent. Then Moody beckoned to Arthur Weasley, who joined the conversation. After muttering amongst themselves for a few more moments, Moody and Mr. Weasley nodded and stepped back into the parlor, and Snape turned to go.

"Severus," Mrs. Weasley called after him. "Won't you stay for Christmas dinner?"

Harry managed to keep from cringing at the thought as Snape's eyes flashed around the room. Ron wasn't so successful, and Hermione forced a polite smile. Sirius glared openly, but Remus said, "Yes, please join us, Severus."

Snape actually hesitated. But then he shook his head. "No. Thank you, Madam." He nodded toward Mrs. Weasley. "I must return to Hogwarts." He vanished down the hall in the swirl of robes.

Harry heard the others let out sighs of relief, and let out one of his own, but a thought suddenly occurred to him: what did someone like Snape do on Christmas? The thought was followed by a twinge of some emotion he couldn't quite identify, and he hastily turned his attention back to his friends.

Christmas dinner was served on time after the twins rousted Hagrid from the kitchen—and it was everything Harry had expected. The table had to be expanded to make enough room for all the Weasleys, Sirius and Remus, Tonks and Moody, Hagrid, and Mundungus Fletcher. And even after the expansion, the table almost collapsed beneath the weight of all the food. It was as good as anything served at Hogwarts.

Everyone was in high spirits, and ate until they were nearly ill. You could almost forget there was a war on.

After dinner, Dumbledore arrived, bringing with him a large cauldron of Christmas punch. They sat in the once-again-enlarged parlor and toasted the season, followed by several raucous rounds of Christmas carols, concluding with George and Fred teaching everyone the "special" version of We Three Kings.

Tonks, seated comfortably in Remus's lap, was engaging Percy in a very earnest debate about the merits of green hair. Percy was flushed and bright-eyed from a combination of Christmas spirit and Christmas spirits. Harry had never seen the middle Weasley so relaxed, slumped against Charlie on the sofa.

"No, really, the red with green tips was too garish," Tonks insisted (a little flushed herself despite her Metamorphmagus skills.) "I showed them both to Remus; he liked the green, didn't you?" she asked her human chair.

"Whatever you say," Remus replied, breezily.

Percy drew himself up in mock offense, "And why should his opinion matter more than mine?"

"You're not in the Order!" Tonks retorted haughtily. "And come to think of it, we ought to do something about that!"

"Oy?" said Charlie, perking up.

Percy blinked. "Oy?"

"Albus!" Tonks said loudly. "Don't you agree it's high time Young Mister Weasley," she gestured dramatically at Percy, "joined the Order?"

Dumbledore cocked his head thoughtfully at Percy. "I shouldn't wish to prejudice him with our wishes, my dear Miss Tonks. Whether Mister Weasley joins the Order of the Phoenix is his decision alone."

Dumbledore might have succeeded in putting Percy at ease if the entire room hadn't fallen dead silent, with everyone staring. Percy blinked again. "Er...you mean you...want me to join the Order?"

Bill threw up his hands. "Of course we do, you stupid prat! You're a smart little tick with a good head on your shoulders and a sense of decency when all's said and done. You'd be a big help to the Order! Not to mention that we'd be proud to have you."

"Bloody right," agreed Charlie. "What about it?"

Percy looked to his parents, who smiled tentatively and nodded. Then he looked at the twins, who were sitting up on the floor and watching him with, for once, sincerely hopeful expressions. Then he slowly turned back to Dumbledore. "Er...if you really want me...of course I'd be honored to join the Order."

"YYYYEEEOW" The twins launched themselves onto Percy, slapping his back and knuckling his head, as Harry and the Order members burst into applause.

Tonks leaned past Remus to kiss Percy on the cheek. "Welcome aboard, mate."

"Thanks," Percy muttered, now quite red in the face and looking remarkably like Ron.

Moody clunked over to shake Percy's hand, then glanced at his watch. "Merlin's beard! Up, Tonks, we're late!"

Tonks swore under her breath and scrambled to her feet. "Sorry, lads, gotta go! Auror Christmas party!"

"Behave yourselves!" admonished Mr. Weasley.

"Never!"

"See if you can win over a few people," said Remus, then he turned to Dumbledore. "Any chance of persuading Priscilla to join the Order, Albus?"

Mundungus Fletcher snorted. "That one? Not bloody likely, she's too by-the-book. One step outside the law is too far for her."

"Thus speaketh someone who's been arrested by her three times," laughed Sirius.

"So I oughtta know!"

Dumbledore laughed. "I'm afraid my efforts to win her over have consistently failed. It appears now the best chance of persuading Priscilla falls into Alastor's domain."

Harry felt himself cringe, and saw Ron, Ginny, and the twins responding in the same way. Moody swung around in the doorway and shot a grin at Remus, a grin that could only be described as lascivious. Remus laughed aloud and Mundungus gave an answering leer as Moody exited, and Harry and the others collapsed on the ground in horror.

"There are some things that simply should not be shared with the general public," muttered Fred.

By the time they went to bed, it was well past midnight, and Harry felt warmer inside than he'd ever imagined possible. Part of that probably had to do with the amount of food and punch he'd had, but he knew the rest was due entirely to having just spent the most wonderful Christmas in his life.

They all tramped up the stairs, talking and giggling sleepily and absently humming Christmas carols. Bill was carrying Ginny on his back, Ron and Hermione were arm-in-arm, and Sirius and Remus each had an arm around Harry's shoulders. At each bedroom door, there were drowsy and happy good-night's. The Grangers said goodnight to Hermione and the rest of the wizards, and Mr. Granger even patted Harry on the shoulder as they went off to their room. Sirius ruffled Harry's hair and gave him a fierce hug, then Harry followed Ron to say goodnight to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh, this has been such a wonderful Christmas," Mrs. Weasley was sighing as she kissed her assorted children outside her bedroom door. "I'll cherish this for a long time. Sleep well, Harry, dear," she said, releasing Ron and holding out her arms to him.

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," he said, letting her hug him, and it hit him in a rush that for the first time, being hugged by her didn't hurt. So then he surprised both himself and her by kissing her on the cheek. "Thanks for everything."

"You deserve it, dear," she told him firmly, cupping his cheek. "Merry Christmas."

Harry waved goodnight, then headed off to the room he shared with Ron. When he crawled into bed and blew out the last candle, he felt as though he were still glowing.

He was lounging in a stone chair on a raised platform, with a cold, damp mist filtering in from the open window, watching black-robed wizards toiling before him. An enormous snake half-coiled at his feet, raising its giant head now and then to flick its tongue curiously at the shivering, terrified prisoners being herded into the room.

One of the Death Eaters knelt at his feet. "Who is this?" Harry asked.

"Thomas Henderson, Master. Auror. And family," the masked Death Eater said, gesturing to the cowering woman with her arms around a teenaged boy huddled behind a staggering, bleeding man. Harry regarded them. "Muggle wife. The son is the Hogwarts Head Boy."

"A half-breed Head Boy. What is Hogwarts coming to?" Harry sighed lightly. He gestured to another hooded wizard hovering against the wall. "You know what to do."

The Death Eater bowed again and rose. "Come!" he said to the hooded figure. "Let's get to work." He pulled off his mask and turned matter-of-factly to the prisoners.

The bleeding man spat, struggling in the grasps of two other Death Eaters. "Lucius Malfoy. I might have known."

"Yes, you might," said Lucius. He waved the other Death Eaters off, and the shorter, hooded figure came to his side. "What we're about here, you see, is one of two things: getting information or getting a message across. What you're going to learn is effective for either, but tonight we're just sending a message. Decent pureblood wizards who go around breeding half-bloods and opposing the Dark Lord have to be taught a lesson."

"Ergo," said Bellatrix Lestrange, pulling off her own mask. "You get a lesson in giving lessons tonight, love!" She lounged back against the wall to watch the show. Harry watched silently.

"Exactly, Bella," chuckled Lucius. He drew his wand and gazed thoughtfully at the Auror and his family. "So the question is, do we hex the man of the house first or his wife and son while he watches? Which is most effective?"

Another Death Eater facetiously raised a hand, and Bella cuffed her. "You've passed this lesson already, Delilah, let the lad answer!"

The hooded figure was silent for a moment, then muttered, "The Auror? He's the most powerful..."

Delilah Hornby groaned loudly, and Bella and Lucius shook their heads. "No, no, no!" Bella scolded. "Always start with the family first!"

"Leave them out of this!" Henderson shouted. "I'm an Auror; it's me you want! Let them go, and you can do what you like with me!"

Lucius paused and tilted his head. "Why?"

The dark-haired boy, about seventeen years old, wrapped his arms around his mother and glared darkly at the Death Eaters. Harry mused that it was a pity he was half-blooded. Had he been pure, he might have made a worthy recruit.

Lucius went on, "You see, Henderson, your whole family is valuable to us at the moment. We're engaging in a little hands-on training. I believe you Muggles," he actually half-bowed to Henderson's wife, "call it 'take your son to work.'"

"Don't be shy, lad," said Rudolphus Lestrange, pulling his mask off. "Show your face. None of that lot's going to be in a position to tell."

Slowly, the silent wizard raised a hand and pulled the hood from his face, revealing pale blond hair, aristocratic features, and gray eyes. The Auror's son, Wesley Henderson, recoiled. "Bloody hell, Draco Malfoy!"

Draco smiled. "Why so shocked, Henderson? Were you expecting Dumbledore?"

Wesley surged in front of his mother. "You don't have to do this! Come on! You're a bloody schoolkid and you've got a brain! Why do you need to get your kicks torturing people!"

"It's not to get kicks!" Draco protested, looking wounded. He raised his wand. "It's to get an education! Crucio!"

Wesley yelled and staggered back, but the spell ended quickly. Draco turned and cast a nervous glance over his shoulder at Harry. "Well," muttered Hornby. "That will never do."

"It didn't work," Draco sighed, looking discouraged.

Lucius scowled, but Bella intervened. "Come on, Lucius, be patient. Takes a few tries. You've got to want it, Draco!"

Now Death Eaters were restraining both Henderson and his wife as their son staggered to his feet. "What are you, their bloody house elf?"

"I'm a student. You're Head Boy, don't you do what the teachers say?" Draco retorted. He raised his wand again.

"Don't!"

"Crucio!"

Again, it seemed to come up short. Draco was now cringing and not daring to glance in Harry's direction. Lucius did, but Harry did not react. He merely watched. "That's not acceptable, Draco!" Lucius said tightly.

"What am I doing wrong?" Draco asked, a hint of fear in his voice.

"You've got the right outcome in your mind," remarked Hornby, eyeing the grunting boy. "That's just not enough, love. You need more feeling behind it!"

"Malice, Draco," added Bella. "You must want agony! Come on, try again! Don't worry, you'll get it. He'll get it, Lucius. The night's young, he'll get a scream out of them yet."

Lucius nodded, and Draco tried again. Still it wasn't a successful Cruciatus. The younger Malfoy swore and turned away. Lucius's scowl grew darker, but Bella made a tutting noise, and he held his temper in check. "Let's try another approach. Draco, look at him."

Draco came back and obeyed. Wesley, on his knees, was now genuinely frightened and stared at the younger boy with wide eyes. "You don't have to do this," he whispered. "I've never done anything to you!"

"Hasn't he?" asked Lucius, speaking to Draco. "Think of his kind, Draco. Half-bloods, the Mudbloods. Is this impure creature worthy to take points from you? To demand any kind of deference from you? Think of the indignities your father suffered in Azkaban at the behest of this creature and his kind. Think, Draco. Think of Harry Potter."

Taking a deep, slow breath, Draco raised his wand again. "CRUCIO!"

And the Fortress of Shadows filled with Wesley Henderson's screams.

To be continued...

Coming next weekend: Our favorite Potions Master arrives to hear Harry's report of his vision, and to resume Occlumency lessons. Other lessons begin as Harry becomes determined to prepare for the inevitable battle he will be fighting. But there are unexpected battles as well, when Sirius and Snape clash over Harry's lessons, and Harry is less than thrilled about being caught in the middle in Chapter Thirty-Three: Three Violent People.

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