BEFORE YOU READ THIS CHAPTER! Go back to chapter 7 and read the last few paragraphs if you haven't already done so. I was going to do that portion as a flashback in this chapter, but I decided that was just stupid.

Okay, someone was confused in the reviews, I think because of the progression of time between this chapter and the last. So, easy rule of thumb here— if I don't mention an event that happened in the book, that doesn't mean it didn't happen in this story. It simply means that the event was so close to JKR's version that I really didn't feel the need to change it. I'll try to be better about referring to events and giving a better sense of time passing from here on out.

Harry lay awake in his bed, listening to the sounds of his dormmates sleeping. He liked doing that—it gave him time to think. Plus Ron's unconscious mumblings were usually pretty funny. The room would be a lot quieter tomorrow night with only Ron and himself in. Everyone else was going home for the holidays. In fact, Harry and the Weasleys would probably be the only Gryffindors remaining behind. They were staying because their parents were off to visit their older brother Charlie in Romania.

And Harry was staying because Ron was. It didn't seem fair to leave him with only his brothers for company, and inviting him home was out, as Christmas Eve was a full moon this year. Somehow Harry was pretty sure Ron would have issues with spending the night in a house with a werewolf. Although Dad's last letter had mentioned something called the 'wolfsbane potion,' that would hopefully let him get through the night without being locked up.

Harry's gift to Hermione was sitting on his trunk, to be turned over to her in the morning before she left. She'd wanted more information about what really happened the night Harry had lost his parents, but he felt uncomfortable talking about a lot of it. He'd mentioned the problem in a letter home, and the response had been thick stack of papers that turned out to be a transcript of the trial, along with copies of all the newspaper articles on the subject. All of it was very interesting, and would hopefully answer all of Hermione's questions.

Thinking of Hermione reminded him that they still hadn't found information on Nicolas Flamel. She'd suggested that they look over the holidays, when the library would be more or less abandoned. He'd have to remind Ron. Somewhere a clock struck eleven, and Harry took his glasses off with a yawn, curling up to sleep.

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The first part of holidays was so busy that Harry forgot about Flamel entirely. Of course, it might have been slightly less busy if he and the Weasley twins hadn't entered into an unspoken prank war. It had been Harry's idea to wake them up one morning with snowballs to the face, and the pranks back and forth started flying fast. In between pranking and getting pranked, Ron began to teach Harry wizard's chess. It amazed him that his friend had never learned before, although Harry just shrugged it off and went back to arguing with Seamus's rook.

Ron awoke Christmas morning to Harry's whoop of glee, and sat up, yawning. "Merry Christmas."

"Come on, Ron. Presents!" Harry pulled on a robe and surveyed his small pile of gifts with excitement.

"What did you expect, turnips?" Ron yawned again, and went for his rather larger pile. It was beyond him how Harry could go from fast asleep to wide awake in a matter of seconds. And it was rather annoying. He yawned again, and glanced over as Harry tore open some wrapping paper to reveal a bright emerald sweater.

"Oh, no… Mom's made you a Weasley sweater." He picked up his own lumpy package, and ripped it open. "Every year she makes us a sweater. Mine's always maroon." Ron pulled it on, noting that Harry seemed delighted with his. No accounting for taste, there. They continued opening gifts, and suddenly Harry opened a parcel containing something fluid and silvery grey. Ron gasped. "I've heard of those… If that's what I think it is—they're really rare, and really valuable."

"What is it?" Harry picked up the silvery stuff, and studied it curiously.

"It's an invisibility cloak. I'm sure it is—try it on." Ron gave a yell as Harry disappeared under the cloak. Literally disappeared. Harry read the note that came with the cloak while Ron admired it. He was about to try it on out of curiosity when the door burst open to admit Fred and George.

"Merry Christmas!"

Okay, so here's the deal. I'm suffering from maaaajor writer's block here. I know what's going to happen next, I just don't know how to transition into it. I'll add onto this chapter as soon as possible, but I thought I'd just make sure everyone knew I was still alive. Besides, my muse always perks up some as soon as I've posted a chapter.