Himble and Florentchia Beetlehorn were standing by their large kitchen counter, puzzling over the Just-Add-Water Christmas Lunch they'd bought for the occasion.
'Honey, I think we only add two cups of water, not twenty,' Florentchia, Bagsy's mother, said. She was a tall woman with wavy brown hair down to her thighs that, when Bagsy was younger, had amazed her by managing to stay out of food or avoid catching in doors or fences, until she'd realised her mother charmed it each morning. Florentchia was the sort of witch who put a lot of effort into both appearance and practicality, and whenever Bagsy caught a glimpse of her she was always in sharp looking robes that were elegant but held back by a severe belt, cuff clips or a waist coat. Her hair, the exception, was always trailing luxuriously behind her.
Himble Beetlehorn, Bagsy's dad, was turning the box for the Just-Add-Water Christmas Lunch this way and that, squinting at the instructions through a pair of spectacles he held in front of his eyes. Even freshly awoken her dad had the odd grease smudge on his face and a quill tucked behind his ear, and Bagsy wondered what new potion or invention he'd been working on the night before. Like her mother, Himble insisted on a balance between looks and pragmatism, and was usually seen in smart shirts and trousers with a splash of flavour in his oddly coloured shoes with pointed ends.
'Hmmm…' Himble wondered over the packaging. 'It doesn't seem to say how many we should add.'
'Honestly, you'd think with the amount they pay these people for such a simply task they'd get them to do their job!' Florentchia complained, throwing her arms in the air.
'I can take a look?' Bagsy offered.
Himble snorted. 'That would be something,' he said, then, looking up. 'I'm joking, of course, sweetheart.'
Realising that she had her father's attention, for however brief, Bagsy seized the opportunity to ask something that had been bothering her. 'Dad, why did you and mum arrange for me to not sleep in the main dormitory at Hogwarts?' For the first time in Bagsy's life, she felt like her father was really looking at her.
'It was your sister who asked for it,' he said shortly. 'No idea why, though.'
Bagsy furrowed her brow, taken aback.
'Where is Rebontil?' Florentchia asked, turning this way and that like a wind spinner in a hurricane as she scouted the living area for her. Bagsy shrugged. It wasn't unusual for one or two of the Beetlehorns to be missing on Christmas day. Christmas day was a busy time, Bagsy thought, it was only natural, if unfortunate.
The fire place lit up and Bontie walked through the flames, exhaustion clearly dragging at her.
'You're late,' Florentchia snapped, then, at the sight of her daughter, let out a low tut and walked over to embrace her. 'Hard night at the ministry?' she asked, placing a bejewelled hand to the back of Bontie's head and stroking her hair.
Bagsy watched in interest. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen her mother hug Bontie, and her stomach twisted in dread – whatever had happened at the ministry must have been very bad.
Bontie pulled away and nodded at Florentchia and Himble. 'I'm going to change. I'll be down in a few minutes. When are we leaving for Diagon Alley?'
Bagsy held back an eye roll. A few years ago, Bontie had asked when she and Bagsy were leaving, and Florentchia had snapped that of course Himble and herself were coming, too. Only, they hadn't. Nor had they the year after, or the year after that, and Bagsy guessed some excuse or other would keep them from coming this year, too. Now, to avoid angering Florentchia at the implication that she wouldn't come, Bontie always had to ask when everyone was leaving.
'In five minutes, give or take,' Florentchia said pleasantly. Bagsy pursed her lips but didn't say anything. There wasn't even a Christmas tree, or any lights. She'd never realised how lacking in Christmas cheer her home was until she'd seen the pleasant red and green around Hogwarts, and the snow outside only made the overwhelming white walls and wooden stairs of her home feel colder.
Five minutes passed, and Bontie descended the stairs. During that time, Himble had received many letters demanding his attention, and a distant bang had sounded in the attic, where Florentchia's work shop was, requiring her presence, so Bagsy sat alone in the living area, swinging her feet off the edge of the sofa glumly.
'Come on,' Bontie said, her voice hollow from lack of sleep. 'Time to go get presents.'
Bagsy shuffled after Bontie. She hadn't minded last Christmas, or the Christmas before, but suddenly the idea of buying her own presents didn't seem fun at all.
Bontie was struggling to hold her yawns back by the time the flames faded and they were standing in Diagon Alley. It was nearly empty, as it usually was on Christmas, and all the shops were closed except for a few that ran on skeleton crews (quite literally).
'Bontie?' she asked in a small voice. 'Dad said you were the one who asked I not sleep in the dormitory at Hogwarts. Why?'
There was a long pause as they walked along, the noise of their shoes on the cobblestone the only sound. Bontie looked deeply frustrated.
'Because people are annoying,' Bontie said at last, her words slow. 'And I knew you'd be happier with a space of your own. Speaking of which.' Bontie placed a weak hand on Bagsy's shoulder. 'Sorry to do this, but I'm exhausted. I'll get my presents another time – are you okay to walk around on your own?'
Bagsy looked up at her sister quietly. 'Sure,' she lied.
Bontie smiled thinly. 'Great. I'll be in the leaky cauldron.' Her sister pointed to the end of Diagon Alley. 'Come find me when you're done. Here's the money from mum and dad.' Bagsy took the weighty sack of galleons from Bontie and hid it in her robes. 'Don't go anywhere odd looking. Stick to Diagon Alley and Exception Alley. Nowhere else. Promise?' Bagsy nodded, a lump in her throat. 'Bagsy, you must promise me,' Bontie insisted.
'Promise,' Bagsy managed.
Bontie nodded. 'I am sorry, Bagsy, I'm just exhausted.' She awkwardly patted Bagsy's head and shambled tiredly towards the leaky cauldron. Bagsy watched her silently, before looking around at what shops were open.
Olivander's was closed but Bagsy supposed she didn't want anything from there. Weirdly, the Magical Menagerie was open, and Bagsy found herself buying hundreds of different toys she could give to Bill and Jill. With a thrill of excitement, she realised she could wrap them up, write cards and have a mini Christmas with her rats.
Deep in thought she just about noticed, amongst the food for the familiars, were some flies in one corner, beetles in another and even some carrots.
'Sir?' Bagsy asked the clerk, who turned his skull in her direction. She was used to the enchanted skeletons by now – she saw them every year, after all. 'Were these carrots picked at midnight?' The clerk dipped his head in what Bagsy assumed was a yes and Bagsy let out a small cry of excitement and collected a large number of each for her living stampelia.
After the Magical Menagerie Bagsy felt a little better and headed for Flourish and Blotts. As with the Magical Menagerie, a couple skeletons were working the till and servicing the floor, and Bagsy greeted them pleasantly as she browsed through the books. Anything with 'potions' on it went into one of the floating baskets that followed at her side, and she also spotted a book called Brooms and Their Workings and decided she wanted that, too.
She walked up to the skeleton at the till. 'Do you have anything on a thorned gauntlet?' The skeleton shook his head. 'What about silver tongues?' The skeleton shook his head again and Bagsy went back to browsing. It had been worth a try, at least.
Once Bagsy was laden with more books than she could hope to carry she made her first stop back at the leaky cauldron, where she dumped half of her collection of gifts, before making a second trip to bring the rest. Bontie was asleep in an armchair by a fireplace, a mug of warm hot chocolate in her hands, and Bagsy couldn't begrudge her sister for not joining seeing how tired she looked.
On Bagsy's second stop back Bontie was awake and eyed her suspiciously as she unloaded a heap of new magical tools she planned to add to her toolbox, and a small collection of wrapping paper and Christmas cards.
'It's a little late for wrapping presents,' Bontie said, inspecting a red ribbon. 'You're buying a lot of things. Are you sure you want all this?'
'Yes,' Bagsy said firmly, exiting the leaky cauldron for one more stop.
Quality Quidditch Supplies was a small and long shop, with an entrance way that stretched towards Bagsy and made her feel she was rapidly accelerating towards the brooms, bludgers and quaffles inside.
She grabbed the most up-to-date, expensive looking broom she could see, that had been on display in the window. It was jet black with a blue glass hand grip that felt cool to the touch and was cut with sharp edges that made her feel as though electricity was pulsing through her palm. The bristles at the end turned blue and transparent at their tips, glittering in the dim lamplight of the store as she turned it over in her palm. The label said Dragon Wing – Obsidian Edition.
'I'd like this, please,' Bagsy said to the real, non-skeleton man at the till. She didn't think it appropriate to ask him why he was working Christmas day – she worried he'd ask her why she was shopping alone on Christmas, too.
The man peered over his newspaper at her and shook his head. 'No brooms for first years,' he said, going back to his reading.
Bagsy gaped at him. 'How did you – but – no –' she stammered. She composed herself, flattening her messy hair. 'It's not for me,' she said honestly.
The man raised his eyebrows but didn't look back down at her. 'No brooms for first years,' he repeated. Bagsy huffed. She didn't want to bother her sister with this – she was tired enough without Bagsy troubling her.
She turned to leave the store, crossing her arms in anger, when something in the back corner caught her eye. 'Sir, what are those?'
The man looked back at the shelves of odd bits of wood, metal and strange feathery strings. 'Bits and bobs – from broken brooms, mainly.'
'How much are they?' She looked at him hopefully, and when he didn't tell her first years couldn't buy them her heart sped up.
Happily paying the price of 2 galleons for the lot, Bagsy collected the broken broom parts in her arms and rushed out of the store excitedly. 'Let's go home, let's go home!' she cried happily to Bontie when she returned to the leaky cauldron for the last time. It had begun snowing again and her brown mane of hair was dusted heavily with white snowflakes that tumbled around her when she gave her head a shake.
Bontie squinted her eyes miserably at Bagsy. 'Quieter, please,' she said, brushing snowflakes off her shoulder, 'and clean yourself up before coming indoors.'
Bagsy was bouncing up and down on her feet as they waited to use the Floo station. She wasn't even jealous when Bontie easily levitated all of the purchases into a bottomless shopping bag, because she had an idea.
Arriving back in the open plan living room with a burst of flame, Bagsy grabbed the shopping bag and scurried upstairs in a flurry of messy hair and robes.
'Bye,' Bontie said plainly before collapsing on one of the sofas as Bagsy's excitement whisked her away. She didn't stop running until she had slammed the door of her room closed and upended her gifts onto her bedroom floor, which was massive and easily accommodated the sheer amount of stuff she'd bought as it spilled onto the floor in a disorganised mess.
Bill and Jill trotted over, weaving in and out of the pile of things Bagsy had bought.
'Not yet!' Bagsy said, pulling Jill off a move-on-its-own rattle ball she'd been chasing. 'I have to wrap them first.' Bagsy placed Bill and Jill in their large rat's cage and shut the doors, quickly wrapping their gifts. She even wrapped the flies, beetles and carrots she was to feed her living stampelia.
Bagsy put the bits of old broom on her work bench – excited to look them over later – and finally released her impatient rats from their cage.
She had laid all the presents out on the floor and sat crossed legged among them. 'What do you want first?' Bagsy asked. Jill poked her twitching nose at a large parcel and Bagsy gingerly pulled the paper away for her. Inside was a spinning wheel that changed colours as it turned. Jill seemed very pleased and hopped on straight away.
Despite her encouragement, Bill couldn't have been less keen on the thing. Perhaps Bill didn't like the colours and noise it made.
'That's fair enough,' Bagsy said, giving Bill a scratch behind her ears. 'I've got something you'll like better.' She fished out a softer feeling present and placed it in front of Bill before carefully unwrapping it, a warm feeling of Christmas glee filling her. Inside were a collection of rat sized hammocks she could hang in Bill and Jill's cage and around her room. They'd been enchanted to feel as gentle as silk and gave off the smell of syrup and lavender when a rat lay in them, without changing the air in a way that could harm the rat's fragile respiratory systems.
Bill was far keener on this gift and snuggled up right away, falling asleep almost instantly. Jill was happy to enjoy the rest of the rat gifts alone, chirping excitedly at the rat treats and new toys. Once Bagsy had given Bill and Jill all their gifts, she grabbed the living stampelia and walked over to her window, intending to feed it. It gave off such an awful smell she daren't contemplate feeding it inside her room, but outside a window would do if she held her breath.
She placed the beetles, flies and midnight-picked carrots on the muddy, fleshy skin of the living stampelia before quickly shutting the box, and watched as the food was absorbed into her plant friend – satisfied it was having a happy Christmas. Bagsy placed the living stampelia on the floor next to the sleeping Bill and the eating Jill. Now, it was time to open her own present.
She grabbed the package Professor Fitzsimmons had given her and sat down, placing it in her lap. Her hands shook as she pulled the twine around the brown paper and untied it. It was the first time she'd unwrapped a Christmas present, as far as she could remember.
The brown paper fell away and Bagsy was staring at a book. Unseen Connections read the title in faded, white lettering, and she picked the book up. It looked unbelievably old and felt as frail as butterfly wings, and she carefully opened the book to the first page, eliciting a loud crunching noise as the spine shifted after many years of stillness. Unseen Connections was written by a man named Opius Pepsini and dedicated to his sister Cotesia, whose surname was scratched out. Bagsy flipped the crinkled page gently but couldn't make out the surname on the other side, either. Whatever surname it had been, it looked longer than Pepsini, and Bagsy's curiosity was piqued.
Regardless, she was more excited about what the book contained, and she carefully made her way to the contents page, her curiosity at an all-time high. Chapters were named the oddest of things: The Secret Thread, What Binds all Objects, Manipulation of Integral Aspects, and Magic without a Wand, to name a few, stared up at her. Bagsy, heart racing, turned straight to the Magic without a Wand chapter and began reading. To her frustration, Bagsy struggled to understand what the book was saying. It talked of understanding the inner workings of the world, and fitting pieces together to operate in the way aimed by the puzzle solver, and she felt as if she was sinking in words. What any of it meant she had no clue.
Bagsy resigned to having to read the whole thing before understanding how to use magic without a wand and placed the book on her bedside table.
Without her noticing, it was lunch time, and Bagsy went downstairs. Bontie was asleep on the sofa and her dad was pouring water into a cardboard box. Within seconds the box and its contents expanded to form a large feast of nut roasts, stuffing, bread sauce, roast potatoes, gravy and steamed vegetables. The food fell gracefully on to the breakfast bar and Himble scooped a healthy sized portion onto a plate, and then a second one that he levitated behind him.
He walked past Bagsy, plate in hand, spectacles on his face, and smiled at her. 'Happy Christmas,' he said. 'Tell me about your presents tomorrow, yeah?' he added, walking up the stairs. Bagsy didn't bother asking where he was going, she already knew. He'd drop off the second plate in the attic for Florentchia, then go to his own work space and eat his whilst sending off letters and fiddling with his inventions.
Bagsy filled a plate up for Bontie and set it on the glass coffee table in front of her, wishing she could cast teporiem to keep the meal warm for when Bontie woke up. Instead, she wrapped it in foil and left a card she'd written her sister lying next to it. Then, she took her own food up to her room, taking extra helpings which she generously gave to her rats who gorged themselves on the vegetables and bread sauce. Bill was starting to look a little fat and Bagsy decided this was the last treat she could give her for a while.
She spent the rest of the day working with the broom parts she'd purchased from Quality Quidditch Supplies. Brooms and Their Workings proved very helpful, and by the end of the day she'd sketched out a very rough looking, but functional, blueprint of a broom. It had lots of over the top decorations, and all sorts of features she had no clue how to implement – like a self-warming seat for extra comfort, or a light at the front that could pierce through any fog – but determination was swelling in the pit of her very full stomach, and the week she had before returning to Hogwarts didn't feel so empty anymore.
