Miss Moony would like to say that she doesn't own Harry Potter and that she had no help with this story from Miss Wormtail, Miss Padfoot or Miss Prongs.
------- I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good -------
Hufflepuff
A whole year. One whole year, Hogwarts was closed; one whole year, while Harry Potter and Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley were off on some adventure that no one knew anything about.
One whole year. It was a long, trying year, in which Father brought Grandfather to live at the house, and the boy locked himself away from the old man's ranting and raving. For the boy, it was a cold, lonely year, away from the familiarity of Hufflepuff House, and all his friends – scarce as they were. They wrote, upon occasion, but they never visited: Their families had locked them up, safe, away from the war, just as the boy's family had done to him.
Grandfather muttered furiously to himself as one year closed to an end, and Mother poured out a glass of champagne for each of the four of them. It was New Year's Eve, and Mother and Father wanted to celebrate properly, in the Muggle fashion.
As the twelfth hour approached, a knock came at the door, and Father went to answer it. He returned a moment later, saying, 'A visitor for you, Dad.'
After a look from Mother, the boy got to his feet and helped Grandfather to rise and walk to the door. Standing on the threshold, his cheeks a deep scarlet from the chilled air, was Harry Potter.
Harry Potter didn't even seem to notice the boy. All he seemed to see was Grandfather. 'These belong to you,' he said, and held out two objects for Grandfather to take. 'Happy New Year, Mr. Smith.'
Harry Potter turned to leave just as the clock struck twelve, and Grandfather was silent, for once, as he examined the two trinkets.
Looking closely, the boy saw two symbols. A snake, for the House of Slytherin, engraved on a locket, and Grandfather raised the goblet high, as if it were some sacred relic. A badger stood poised on the side.
'Hufflepuff,' Grandfather said, his voice an awed whisper, and the boy could see tears of happiness in his dazed eyes. 'You've come back to us…'
The noise of the television blared, and Grandfather waddled back inside to join Mother and Father. The boy Zacharias, though: He stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the light from inside the house, and looking back, Harry Potter thought that, for a moment, the figure appeared to be some ancient and powerful presence.
Harry Potter smiled and continued on to where he and his friends had made camp, safe in the knowledge that the legacies of the Founders lived on.
------- I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good -------
It's been a long December,
And there's reason to believe,
Maybe this year will be better than the last.
- Long December, Counting Crows
