Disclaimer: It's a bit weird to be writing about Christmas in the middle of summer (summer for me, anyway), but since I have a snowball's chance in Hades of ever being JKR, it seems appropriate.

Happy Holidays

Harry awoke to the insistent blaring of his watch alarm. When he saw the message was from Ginny, his heart seized. He was out of bed and dressed in a flash, sprinting towards the hospital wing. He hadn't even read the message, but seeing her name on 'Hospital' accompanied by a strident alarm was enough to send a jolt of fear through him. He met Ron along the way, looking as disheveled as he felt.

"What d'you reckon?" Ron panted, having run flat out from his room.

Harry just shook his head, worry furrowing his brow as they hurried down the hall. "I haven't even read the message. What's it say?"

"Nothing," Ron growled, "Just to get to the hospital wing."

The boys crashed through the door, panic taking precedence over the instinctual need to be quiet in hospitals.

"Ginny!" Ron gasped, "What the ruddy hell is going on?"

Harry just blinked at the sight. Ginny was sitting cross-legged on Hermione's bed, absolutely glowing in a pure white toga, her hair flowing loose around her shoulders as three cats cavorted around her.

"Where's Hermione?" Ron's expression was desperate.

Ginny just smiled and pointed to the fluffiest cat Harry had ever seen. He stared in shock. "Is that a cat? Looks like quite a small sheep."

The fluffy cat turned to glare at him, ears laid back.

"Whoa, that is Hermione," he said, taken aback.

Ron had collapsed into a chair and the cat promptly leaped into his lap, purring and rubbing her chin along his jaw. She put her paws on his neck and nibbled his earlobe.

Ginny smiled tiredly. "Yes, it's Hermione."

Harry approached the bed stiffly, "Are you alright?" He made no move to reach for her or touch her.

She struggled to keep her eyes open. "Merlin, Harry, I'm so tired. I've been here since before midnight. I haven't even told Luna it worked. Could you?"

Harry nodded and sent a short note. "How about Mr. and Mrs. Granger? What will they think? This isn't permanent, is it?"

"No." She yawned and her voice slurred. "It's just to help her mind heal. I got the idea from Sirius. 'Member he said in Azkaban it was easier to think as a dog?"

Harry nodded, "Why don't you rest a bit? You look shattered."

"Thanks," she said sardonically. "You really know how to flatter a girl."

Harry just shrugged, turning away as she crept under Hermione's blankets where she fell asleep almost instantly.

Luna soon slipped into the room and looked pleased to see the fluffy cat winding itself around Ron's neck. She smiled in satisfaction, sitting on the bed to check on Ginny. "Ginny's got a fair case of magical and physical exhaustion, but she'll be fine with a bit of rest. I did warn her that might happen."

"What exactly did she do?" Harry asked. Ron stopped stroking the affectionate feline to listen.

"It's rather complicated," Luna mused. "She really ought to be the one to tell you, but I can give you the basic idea, I suppose. She created a ceremony using some ancient magic, harnessed from Bast and Artemis, along with advanced Transfiguration to force Hermione into a cat form. That's the simplest explanation. It had to be done at the right phase of the moon, and Ginny had to go through several purification rituals," Luna gave Harry a sidelong glance. "She didn't want anyone else to know, in case it didn't work. She didn't want to get anyone's hopes up, you see."

Hermione leaped from Ron's lap to the bed where she insinuated herself under Harry's hand for a pat before standing on her hind legs to touch her nose to Luna's.

"So this will help her break through her Occlumency shields?" Harry asked. "I put the Sorting Hat on her the other day, and it confirmed she had blockaded herself in so efficiently she couldn't get back out, especially after repeated mental attacks."

Ron glanced up sharply. "You didn't think to mention that until now?"

Harry looked abashed. "I'm sorry, it was a spur of the moment idea, and it really didn't tell me anything we didn't already suspect. She's in there, but she has to find her own way out. But this..." he swung to face the cat again, who was now expressing her appreciation to the exhausted redhead curled up in her bed, "This is amazing." He shook his head in awe.

"I'll have some things to say to Ginny about experimental magic too, when she wakes up," Ron frowned. "But at least Hermione isn't unconscious anymore... So when we can change her back?" he asked eagerly.

Luna blinked owlishly. "She'll have to stay like this until she recovers enough to turn herself back. This is more like a forced Animagus transformation than transfiguration. Ginny wanted her to keep as much of her own mind as possible."

"So it's easier for her to learn to undo an Animagus transformation than to burrow out from her own mental shields?" Ron was aghast, remembering it had taken three years for the Marauders to learn to transform.

"Well," Luna said, cocking her head to observe the cat rolling ecstatically on the bed. "She seems a bit happier this way, don't you agree?"

"I suppose…" Ron frowned, watching the cat frolic. He looked back at Luna. "So, how much of her is cat, and how much is Hermione?"

"Therein lays the brilliance of the plan," Luna smiled vaguely. "The structure of a cat's brain is unique. Cats are independent and have highly efficient methods of communication: their ability to vocalize and use body language, of course, as well as mental telepathy."

Ron's eyebrow rose skeptically. "Telepathy?"

"Well, not in English, of course," Luna shrugged. "And some people are more receptive to it than others, but cats can project ideas or suggestions. It's fairly well documented and generally accepted by cat-kept people."

"'Cat-kept people?'" Ron repeated faintly.

"No one can truly own a cat," Luna explained, as if to a toddler. "Cats choose people." Seeing Ron's still-obvious disbelief, she continued. "Take Crookshanks here as an example. When Hermione entered the pet shop, she fully intended to purchase an owl, right? Now, consider this: how difficult is it to change Hermione's mind? And what could cause her to make a split-second impulse decision to purchase something as frivolous as a half-Kneazle when she had previously had her heart set on a highly useful owl? It's rather simple. Crookshanks chose her. He planted the suggestion in her mind."

"Then why didn't he tell her about Pettigrew the rat?" Ron asked.

"I don't think Hermione's mind is very easy to penetrate," Luna shrugged. "Perhaps she didn't get that message. But then, didn't you row about her cat eating your rat? She wasn't very distressed by it, so perhaps Crookshanks planted the suggestion of dislike."

Ron had picked the fluffy cat up again. He looked at her, then at Harry. "You think cats can communicate?"

Harry gave him a sardonic look and hissed a few choice words in Parseltongue.

"Er, right, sorry," Ron shrugged, setting the squirming feline on the floor. "I guess cats must be a bit smarter than snakes. Well, this one is." He scratched his head, watching her chase a dust mote in a sunbeam. He looked uncomfortable for a moment. "Say, Harry, did Sirius ever mention, when people would pet him, how his human body corresponded to his animal body?"

Harry's eyes widened. "Maybe you better ask McGonagall about that one."

"No!" Ron protested, his ears going crimson. "Only, Hermione wouldn't appreciate a pat on the head, where the cat does, you know? And she rolls over for me to scratch her tummy and there are cat girl bits there, where Hermione…erm, well, perhaps that's a bit too much information, yeah?"

"So, why'd you turn her into a cat?" Ron asked his sister as they toted their luggage through the castle to the War Room later that day. "Wouldn't an otter have been her Animagus form, since that's her Patronus?"

Ginny shrugged. "Cats are easier for me to understand. They kind of have their own language. Plus, using the powers of Bast, what else could I turn her into? Not to mention, an otter would've had a hard time coming to Christmas with us at Headquarters. I don't reckon Lupin'd be too chuffed at Fred and George inventing a portable pond for her in his house. Though Portable Pond sounds better than Portable Swamp," she mused.

"You think it's safe to take her with us, then? No tracing spells on her?"

"I highly doubt Voldemort intended on letting her leave when he couldn't break into her mind," Ginny answered, rolling her eyes. "She put herself into a coma so he couldn't reach her, even knowing she might not be able to get out."

"She knew this would happen?"

"Of course," Ginny scoffed. "Why else do you think she insisted on doing all the decoding of Lily's things herself? She knew she'd be the first targeted. Not because of being Muggle-born, but because of what she knows. One of the first things she did was learn to protect her mind, even at her own expense, to keep the rest of us safe."

Ron frowned. "Well, that doesn't do us any good when she never told us where to find the decoded notes."

"True, but we never really looked for them. We got her back fairly quickly, and I started working on the transformation idea, so other than the first few searches in her room, we didn't look very hard because we all hoped she'd wake up soon."

"Maybe she can tell us now," Ron said, as he set his and Harry's trunks near the Vanishing Cabinet to wait while Ginny pushed hers through first.

Ginny poked her head back out and grabbed the end of his trunk to drag it though. "She ought to be able to," she said, her voice muffled inside the cabinet. "She'll find a way, I'm sure." She re-emerged for Harry's trunk, depositing it quickly on the other side before they started walking towards the Great Hall.

"Say, you don't think it's a bad idea that we've had D.A. sessions in there with the Vanishing Cabinet, do you?" Ginny asked.

"Why? With the passwords, no one but us can open it, and even if they could get in, it wouldn't take them anywhere because of the Fidelius Charm on the other one."

"Oh, right. So Hannah, Neville and Luna are spending Christmas at their homes before coming to Headquarters?"

Ron nodded, frowning. He'd expressed his opinion on that already. If Voldemort could get Hermione out of Hogwarts so easily, he would not hesitate to target any of them in their homes. "They have Portkeys. They assure me they have plenty of precautions in place, and they're all coming on Boxing Day to stay for the rest of the holiday."

"Where's Harry?" Ginny asked casually, glancing around as they entered the Great Hall. She frowned at her watch. "His hand is on 'Do not disturb'. He can't be sleeping. Why did you take his trunk anyway? I thought you were just being friendly, but you don't live in the dorm anymore, so he'd have had to bring it to you, which wouldn't make much sense, since he might as well haul it through the cabinet himself then." Her calculating expression took in his carefully masked countenance. "So that means you went to his room to get it just before you found me," she concluded. "Is he avoiding me?" she asked.

Ron could have reassured her that Harry was merely skiving off lunch to finish his Christmas shopping, putting together the last of his owl orders for Hedwig, but figured she deserved to suffer a bit for what she'd put Harry through recently, so he just shrugged. "He hasn't had a warm reception these past several weeks. He didn't want to bother you with his company."

Ginny huffed irritably as she selected things to put on her plate. She took an extra apple, tucking it in her pocket for the long train ride. "Being a prefect is a pain. Could've just gone through the cabinet," she said crossly. "I suppose that's what Harry will do."

"No, he's going to ride the train," Ron had paused between bites. "In case there's trouble."

"I need to talk to him," she said grimly. "So if I get him in a private compartment, stay out of it."

Ron just scowledat her, his mouth too full to speak.

Harry sat alone on the Hogwarts Express in his favourite compartment near the back. Neville had joined him for awhile and played Exploding Snap while he waited for Hannah.

Ron and Hermione were finishing the Head Boy and Girl duties following the prefect meeting. Ginny had offered to take Hermione to patrol the train, Hannah informed him when she came for Neville. Of course, he thought. Anything to avoid me. He opened his Advanced Potions book, flipping pages, hoping to find a clue to Snape's whereabouts. "I don't suppose he'd have written his address in here anywhere," he sighed. Towards the back, he noticed a script in the angry, spiky handwriting familiar to Harry from Snape's instructions on the Potions blackboard. "Pettigrew is a petty thief. Steals tokens from victims." Harry sighed, slamming the book shut and tossing it aside. No new insights to be found there. He slumped down in his seat, contemplating his trainers.

The door clicked and slid open, but Harry didn't turn his head. He could see well enough using peripheral vision, as if her fragrance hadn't preceded her. He kept his face carefully devoid of expression as straightened up in his seat, lifting his jaw a bit defiantly, waiting for her to say what she'd come in to say.

"I...Harry, I'm really sorry," she began, eyes downcast.

Harry remained silent, waiting while his heart sank, anticipating her next words.

"I should have talked to you sooner, but I just wanted things to work out so badly..."

"Oh," said Harry distantly, finding it difficult to think over the rushing sound in his ears.

"And I thought I could manage it," she continued. "Well, Luna helped talk me through some rough spots."

Harry stared down at his thumbnails, keeping his hands folded in his lap.

"You need Hermione," she said.

Harry's face felt too frozen to adequately express his surprise and confusion. "She's like a sister to me."

"Aren't you the least bit glad she's awake?" Ginny's temper flickered in her eyes.

"Well, of course..."

The flicker flared into indignation. "I worked hard. That was really difficult, advanced magic!" Her voice turned edgy. "I suppose it hardly compares to the magic you do every day, and I suppose it's immature of me, but I rather hoped you'd be a little impressed."

"I am!" Harry tried to interrupt.

"I know I'm hardly any match for you; there's no comparison. I'm just a little nobody and everybody whispers about my whole family latching themselves onto you for your Gringotts account--"

"Stop." He stood and grabbed her shoulders. "What the hell are you on about?"

She slumped, sighing. "Damn it, I swore I wouldn't do that."

Harry dropped his hands, keeping a wary eye on her. "Wouldn't do what?"

"Lose control and get angry."

"You're angry with me," Harry clarified.

She looked abashed. "No... Well, I know I haven't the right. You haven't done anything wrong."

"I haven't?"

"No," she said. "I just had unrealistic hopes, I suppose. Hard as I try, we're hardly in in the same Quidditch pitch."

"Oh," Harry said. He frowned. "But...I liked playing Quidditch with you."

She looked at him oddly. "What is that supposed to mean?"

He took another step back. "Erm."

"You said 'liked.' Past tense."

"Aren't...aren't you breaking up with me?" he asked.

Her eyes widened. "Of course not! I just wanted to explain what I did. I mean, I'm rather hurt that you don't seem that impressed and overjoyed about how it turned out, though I know I haven't really got the right..." She hesitated. "Harry, even if I was truly angry at you, arguments don't mean breaking up."

"Oh."

"Hermione would tell me you have abandonment issues and insecurities," she sighed. "I'm sorry Harry, I just wanted to do something big, to...prove myself, I suppose. I got so involved, and I couldn't have any distractions...and then it worked! And you were so...casual about it."

"You fell asleep," Harry reminded. "Luna had to come explain what you'd done. And I am amazed. What you managed to do is incredible. But I wish you'd told me what you were doing."

"I felt I needed to do it this way," she frowned. "I wanted it to be a special surprise, but I didn't want anyone to know if I failed. I wanted to prove to you that I could do something… impressive."

"Wouldn't it have been just as impressive if you'd told me about it earlier?" Harry asked. "I felt like I was living with the Dursleys again, being ignored and pushed away."

Ginny bristled. "That's a bit out of line. I may have been busy and stressed and pushed you away a time or two, but I was never mean about it. Putting me on the same level as the Dursleys is a pretty low blow."

"Yeah, but they never wanted me in the first place. Rejection from them didn't hurt much."

Ginny bowed her head. "I'm really, really sorry. But I wasn't rejecting you." She caught the edge of her lip with her teeth, smiling hesitantly as she scooted closer. "I was trying to help. You'd forsake a little time with me for the sake of your two best friends, wouldn't you?"

Harry huffed, crossing his arms, noting Ginny's logic seemed to coincide with Dobby's. She and the house-elf seemed to think it was a fine idea to help him by causing him pain.

Ginny grinned more confidently, feeling she was on the right track. "Right. You'd do anything for your friends--including give up quality snogging time. So, don't you dare get all hypocritical with me, mister." She shook her finger at him. "Because you and I both know if the situation were reversed, you'd have done the same thing. You are the git who nearly ripped my heart out trying to break up with me for my own protection."

The self-righteous indignation deflated as he realized he had employed the same house-elf logic himself.

Ginny patted his knee. "It seems we've both learned that sometimes we have to do things like that when it's important in the long run. The end justifies the means."

"That seems a bit dismissive." He wasn't quite ready to give in to her feminine wiles and just forgive and forget. Ron had told him to get a spine often enough in the past few weeks. He wasn't going to give in to her so quickly this time.

Ginny took an exasperated breath and Harry swore he could hear her count to ten under her breath, "You know, I'm utterly delighted that all the hard work I put in, not to mention the deprivation, was worth it. We have Hermione with us for Christmas. Isn't that the big picture we should be looking at here? What did you think I was doing with my time, anyway? Looking for another bloke?"

"You had no problem pushing me aside all these weeks," he said defensively. "You refused to sit next to me, or even stay in the same room for more than a minute. What was I supposed to think?"

"Ahh, I've struck a nerve," she said, narrowing her eyes. "You honestly thought I was on the prowl for another bloke and yet you never thought to put up an argument or fight for me?"

Harry raised a brow. "I didn't think you'd appreciate that kind of spectacle. It's not like I can force you to stay in a relationship with me if you don't want to. Being possessive didn't score Dean any points, from what I saw. And being protective only made you want to hex me."

Ginny smiled. "You're right, you have been very good about giving me space."

"So there is no one else?"

"Of course not," she snorted. She chewed her lip a moment. "I'm sorry I made you feel unimportant. I just got so caught up with this whole project, along with my regular coursework--"

Harry cut her off with a weary wave. He really didn't have it in him to remain angry with her. "I know, I know, you've been very busy. And I probably deserve it anyway, after so many years inadvertently ignoring you."

Ginny nodded. "Not to mention, Ron's been a total prat for your sake."

"Poor Ron." Harry frowned. "I hope I got him enough chocolate for Christmas. He's had a rough time of it lately."

"Don't pity him overmuch," Ginny said dryly. "He's taken out a fair share of irritation by hexing me during D.A. sessions."

"Ron's not thrilled about me using the Sorting Hat on Hermione..." Harry grimaced. "And I imagine he will have something to say to you later about using his girlfriend for experimental magic."

"Nah, he's too happy to have her awake. Nothing bad would've happened if it hadn't worked," Ginny said defensively, though she flushed a bit pink. "I just wanted to help, and to show you all I could do something to make a difference."

"Why do you think you need to impress anyone with your magical powers?" he asked curiously. "No one questions your magical strength. Even Fred and George have commented on it."

"But you could cast a Patronus in your third year," she said. "My biggest claim to fame was getting possessed by a diary at eleven. I feel like I have a lot of things to prove and make up for."

"Damn that snake-faced bastard," he sighed, sliding fingers under his glasses to rub his eyes tiredly. "Everything seems to come down to him in the end." He reached for her, drawing her into a reassuring cuddle.

"That really was some brilliant magic you did," he said, feeling lighter than he had in ages.

Ginny laughed. "So we're okay now?" she asked, drawing her lower lip between her teeth.

"Hmm.You owe me for all those weeks of neglect, I think."

She shifted, moving to straddle his lap, smiling wickedly. "I can pay that penalty."

Harry pulled his Invisibility Cloak out to hide them from prying eyes and vaguely waved at the door to lock it.

Ginny grinned. "Impressive, you didn't even take your wand out. Here, let me get that for you…"

By the time the Hogwarts Express rolled into King's Cross station, Harry had a much better outlook on life in general. He nudged Ginny awake. "Honey, we're home," he quipped.

He watched appreciatively as she yawned and stretched. Her hair was rumpled and her eyes had a sleepy, sultry look that made his insides shiver.

"Uncomfortable as it is sleeping on the train, it's nice to wake up next to you," she smiled.

He wordlessly handed over her hair tie.

"You must have a pretty extensive collection of these by now," she took it from him with a sidelong glance.

He widened his eyes in mock innocence.

"You need to unlock the door so we can get out." She finger-combed her hair into a modicum of submission, pulling it back into the tie once more.

Harry obligingly flicked his wand to counter the spells he'd cast earlier. The relief he felt at being back on an even keel with Ginny had the creature in his chest purring contentedly. While making up was brilliant, he rather preferred snog sessions to screaming matches. Ron and Hermione enjoyed their bickering, but after years of people yelling at him, Harry appreciated a more peaceful relationship. Fat chance of that, pairing up with a fiery redhead, the little voice in his head snickered. Ah, life will never get dull.

"I need a box about so big." Tonks mimed a small square with her hands.

Remus glanced up from his book, using his finger to mark his place. "What for?"

"For Harry's present. Can I use that one?" She indicated the small wooden box on his desk that had contained some things Harry had found in his vault.

"Sure," he shrugged, watching her cross the room, where she unceremoniously dumped the box.

"Hey, why does this have Snape's name on it?" she asked, surprised.

Lupin, who had been admiring the view of her shapely backside while she bent over her work, blinked questioningly at her.

"Why do you have a box from Snape?" she repeated. "It had an old pocket watch in it," she offered.

Lupin frowned, reaching for the box she held out to him. "Harry brought this box from his vault. We assumed it was a jewelry box. It had his mum's ring, my mum's necklace and some watches I charmed for Sirius and James in it. He thought it came from Sirius's vault, as he'd never noticed it before."

Lupin continued his inspection of the little box. "This isn't a jewelry box at all," he commented. "It's a Muggle pencil box. See the ink stains where a bottle or quill leaked?"

"Why would Sirius have a box from Snape in his vault?" Tonks wondered aloud.

"I'm more interested in discovering why Snape would have a collection of things stolen from my friends." Lupin's tone was angry.

"Part of the criminal mind," Tonks nodded knowledgably.

"Let's find another box," Lupin said irritably. "Harry wouldn't like this one."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." Tonks rubbed his arm lightly. "I didn't mean to get you riled."

"I know," he sighed. "It's just…" he waved his hand helplessly toward the window, where the moon shone in.

"Your time of the month." Tonks shrugged offhandedly. "Happens to the best of us."

Lupin was still immersed in his own thoughts. "How did that box end up in Harry's vault? I cannot come up with a scenario that makes sense."

"Perhaps you're thinking too hard." Tonks draped herself over the back of the armchair, her arms around his neck. "It's water under the bridge, anyway. You're just making yourself tense and frustrated."

"And I suppose you know of a cure for tension and frustration, do you?" He twisted to raise a brow at her over his shoulder.

"Oh yes," she nodded confidently. "Incidentally, it happens to be the very same cure you suggest every time I come down with the sniffles. Actually, I believe you mentioned it also works for midge bites. And frostbite. Sprains, as well." Her list of ailments was punctuated with kisses along the nape of his neck.

"It is a very versatile remedy," he murmured, tilting his head to allow her easier access to his neck. "Broad spectrum healing properties."

"Mhmm," she agreed, drawing her lips against his ear lobe to make him shiver. "Time for bed?"

"If you insist," he smiled.

Christmas morning, Harry was awakened by someone with a fiery froth of red hair, bouncing on his bed. "Bugger off, Ron," he mumbled groggily, rolling and hauling the blankets over his head.

An indignant huff and a swat on the shoulder made him blink blearily, squinting at the interloper. "Is there some unwritten law that says redheads must wake sleeping people at an unnatural hour on Christmas morning?"

"Well aren't you a right little ray of sunshine today?" Ginny sniggered, bouncing the mattress a few more times.

"Up and at 'em, lazybones! Presents!" She bounced tantalizingly nearer.

Harry burrowed further under the bedclothes.

Ginny edged still closer, until she was mere inches from his ear.

Without warning, Harry lunged, wrapping both arms around her as she shrieked in surprise. His modified Sloth Grip Roll efficiently pinned her arms to her sides within the blanket and he rolled her neatly inside with one swift, twisting motion. He smirked triumphantly as he balanced on his knees, straddling her. "Ha! A Weasley burrito."

Ginny's brown eyes danced with merriment. "Yummy," she quirked an eyebrow suggestively.

"Oi." Ron poked his head in the room. He blinked as his eyes traveled over his sister, trussed in a blanket, pinned to Harry's bed. "Glad Mum sent you to wake him up instead of me," he said offhandedly.

"Hey Harry. Thanks for the chocolate and the Cannons stuff." He modeled a garish orange shirt that clashed spectacularly with his hair.

"No problem, Ron. Happy Christmas." Harry hopped off the bed, leaving Ginny to extricate herself from the tangled coverlet.

Ron chuckled. "I thought you'd like a bit of a lie-in, so I took my presents to the dining room to open. Took Hermione's down for her too. She's still playing with the wrapping paper."

Harry grinned, retrieving his glasses from the nightstand and his wand from under his pillow. He scooped up his pile of gifts that had tumbled to the floor and the three of them trooped down the stairs. Ginny detained him under the mistletoe for a moment before dragging him over to an overstuffed armchair.

Hermione dashed through the wrapping paper on the floor, batting and chasing the wadded ball Ginny tossed her way.

"Is that normal?" Harry cocked his head and squinted at the cat.

Ginny shrugged, "I suppose she has some cat instincts to adjust to."

After all the presents had been opened and exclaimed over, Mrs. Weasley poked her head in to announce brunch.

In the kitchen, Fred and George wore identical masks of glee.

In Harry's experience, this was rarely a good sign.

"Happy Christmas Harry! Have a Prophet!" Fred slapped a rolled newspaper tied with a bow into his palm.

Harry glanced warily at Lupin, who was seated at the table, shaking almost convulsively and swiping at the tears rolling down his cheeks.

With a final, concerned glance at the hysterical werewolf, Harry untied the ribbon and unfurled the paper. His eyes went wide at the headline:

Umbridge Hopping Mad

Rita Skeeter

Following a shocking display of impropriety, Dolores Jane Umbridge, age unknown, was forcibly removed from the Ministry Yule Ball last night.

Umbridge had been speaking with Minister Scrimgeour when she seemingly suffered a seizure of sorts. Before bystanders could react, Umbridge began performing inappropriately affectionate acts on Scrimgeour's leg, accompanied by frenzied croaking noises. Umbridge was detatched with some difficulty, whereupon closer examination revealed webbing of her hands and feet. According to her own legislation, this officially changes her classification to "creature," and requires immediate termination of her employment with the Ministry. Minister Scrimgeour assures the public that Umbridge was summarily dismissed.

"Ms. Umbridge exhibited no unusual behavior prior to an Auror's accidental water spill on her person. However, now that she has assumed this aquatic form, she must therefore be subjected to the same laws as any other web-footed creature. She had the best interests of the wizarding world in mind when she wrote those laws, of course. Rules must be observed and upheld to maintain order in a civilized society," Percy Weatherby, a junior undersecretary, stated.

"I ain't ne'er seen nobody get so drunk they'd wanna hump ol' Scrimmy's crutch. Nor his crotch neither, fer that matter. Some o' these Min'stry shindings got pretty wild back in the day, though. Wouldn'ta been unus'al to see sumpin like that some years ago," one very large guest commented as he escorted his equally-large companion back to their waiting carriage.

Umbridge has been quarantined until further notice, to prevent contamination. "If this is a transmissible disease, she is a threat to the public. Every precaution as well as all legal restrictions must be strictly considered and adhered to," said a healer at St. Mungo's.

Umbridge, former Special Assistant to the Minister and one-time self-proclaimed High Inquisitor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, will be subjected to testing at the Magical Creatures Research Laboratory until further notice.

Ginny had come to read over Harry's shoulder. "Ah, revenge is sweet. Congratulations, gentlemen!"

"So the change is permanent?" Harry queried. "I thought it would just be at the full moon."

"Full moon, or whenever she comes in contact with water," George corrected.

"Wow," Ron finally spoke. "That's just…. Wow. Brilliant. Excellent job."

Lupin had gotten himself under control, other than a random snigger that would escape every so often. "Let's not forget to give credit to our intrepid Auror, the catalyst for the whole event."

Tonks blushed prettily, dipping in a quick curtsy.

"This is a better Christmas present than my new pet python, Monty," Harry declared.

"Who gave you a pet snake?" Tonks asked.

"Hagrid, of course," Harry grinned. "Hedwig's not too chuffed over it, but she'll get used to him."

"Speaking of pets..." Fred pointedly stared at Hermione, who perched in Ron's lap, front paws resting on the table. "I see Ron's finally got himself a little pu-"

Thunk.

Fred's forehead smacked into the table, courtesy of his mother's backhand.

"This is the best Christmas ever," Ron declared fervently.