Chapter 10 – Lonely at Christmas

In the run up to Christmas the professors all seemed to have got together to discuss piling mountains of work onto their first years, as every class seemed to give more and more work each week. Despite that, Harry felt quite good about his studies as they had finally progressed to casting real magic in all their wand-based classes. The rift in Viper group caused by Draco's nasty comments about Granger was not so much forgotten as it was put on hold as the first years had to deal with everything else, although it did still leave a nasty taste in Harry's mouth whenever he had to deal with Draco one on one.

Near to the end of November the buzz about the Slytherin Common Room amongst the first years centred nearly completely on Christmas, and more specifically, what presents everyone was going to get for everyone else.

The girls, in particular, were proving to be a difficult nut to crack for Harry and the boys in his group of friends.

"What do you think I should get Pansy?" asked Theodore to the group of boys as they sat in a secluded corner of the Common Room to do their homework together. "I don't want anything that comes on too strong but I have to get her something…"

Harry looked up from his homework, interested in the answer, since he had been told he needed to get the girls in his class a present, but had no idea what. Some of them were easy – Daphne liked pretty hair clips, Millicent liked comic books, and Tracey liked fancy quills – but Harry mostly only knew the things Pansy didn't like.

"I asked my Mum to get presents for all the girls," admitted Blaise. "Who even knows what Pansy likes? Does she even like anything? Draco?"

Draco shrugged. He didn't seem to particularly care and was picking at something on his robes.

"My mother is going to get something for the girls," Draco said. "It'll probably be some sort of bath potion, or perfume, something like that. Some will be at Mother's party, so they'll get a party favour as well."

Harry sighed. He didn't have a mother to ask, and he doubted his aunt Petunia would be in any way helpful on this issue. She would be great at finding thoughtful gifts for Muggle girls, since she did it for the girls in his class at Muggle school on birthdays and whatnot, but he didn't think any of the Slytherin girls would appreciate something Muggle and he didn't think his aunt could cope with picking out something magical. Not to mention that Harry still didn't know what sorts of this witches his age liked to receive as gifts to give his aunt suggestions.

He didn't even really know what sorts of things there were for witches his age to like in the first place.

Theodore sighed, and sat there frowning at his parchment. Like Harry, he didn't appear to have liked Blaise or Draco's answers either.

"You don't think we have to get presents for everyone in Adder group as well, do you?" asked Blaise suddenly. "I've got one for Charlie, but I sit next to him in Foundational Skills…"

"I wasn't going to," said Theodore. He had a miserable look on his face, as if this newest obstacle was the thing that pushed Christmas from bearable to utterly abysmal. "Nobody said I'd have to. I don't talk to them much anyway... Harry?"

"Me neither," said Harry. "I've got something for Ernie—Macmillan—though. Nobody else."

To tell the truth, Harry initially hadn't considered that he would have to get half as many people presents as he was now going to. He'd planned on something small for Tracey, Ernie, and Theodore, and maybe something for Blaise and Daphne. He had been dismayed to find that the consensus amongst the first years was that everyone in Viper group should get something.

It gave Harry a bit of a headache thinking about it. At least he knew about owl order, so he didn't have to go anywhere to buy anything.

"Oh, thank God!" said Blaise. "This Christmas business is too stressful."

The other boys all agreed, and went back to doing their homework. With any luck, this would be the last lot of homework before the Christmas holidays started, so everyone wanted to get it over and done with. Usually all the people in Viper group would do their work together, but with Christmas looming they'd split into boys and girls so they could keep at least some things secret from each other.

Harry thought that made things even harder, since at least if they had some of the girls with them, they would know what the other girls wanted. In theory. He sighed.

About an hour later Professor Snape entered the Common Room to pin a long piece of parchment on the wall next to one of the fireplaces. He left after giving a curt explanation that those who wished to stay at Hogwarts over the holidays should sign it, although from what Harry could tell, not many people were planning to.

No one signed the parchment, at least.

"Are you going home for Christmas?" asked Theodore later on, when the boys had put their homework away and were sat together playing games and chatting.

Harry shrugged.

"I don't know," he said. "I've never missed a Christmas before, but… well, my aunt—Dudley's aunt, she's not even my real aunt—Marge will be there with her dogs, and they hate me, and I won't even be able to do any magic or even mention Hogwarts around her because she's not allowed to know. And obviously, with Sirius Black about, it might be safer for them and me if I stayed here." Harry lowered his voice. "They posted Aurors in the summer, even. I don't know if my aunt or uncle noticed them but I know they didn't like the idea of it."

"That's rough," Theodore said. "I can't even imagine what it would be like to have to pretend not to be a wizard, honestly."

"I suppose I managed before I knew I was a wizard, but not knowing seems different from pretending I'm not, so..." Harry shrugged. "So I'm thinking I might stay, at least that way I'll have the library for my homework and I can practise my spells…"

Theodore went back to doing his reading while Harry tinkered with his charmable Snitch. He'd managed to put together some of the inner parts, but the charms required for the outer casing were proving slightly beyond him.

"D'you reckon anyone else from our year would be staying?" Harry asked Theodore a little while later.

Theodore shrugged.

"Dunno. Maybe Ranvir? I don't think his family does Christmas but maybe he's going home anyway. I'm not too fussed about going home, but it's just me and Dad there and it would be the first Christmas on his own since…"

"Don't worry about it," said Harry. "Thanks anyway. I don't have to decide until next week or the week after, right? So I have time to think about it."

"Want to play a game of Snap?" asked Theodore, holding up his pack of cards.

"Okay, yeah," said Harry, the question of whether or not to stay at Hogwarts over Christmas half-forgotten.


Over the next couple of weeks Harry decided not to go home to Number Four for Christmas. He didn't want to have to deal with Aunt Marge and her dogs, especially not Ripper, and he certainly didn't want to pretend not to be a wizard over the entire holiday, on top of spending the whole time worrying about mad murderous wizards hiding around every corner. He did feel quite bad that he wouldn't be able to see any of his Muggle friends, but staying at Hogwarts seemed like the right choice to make for a number of reasons.

It took Harry three attempts to write the letter home explaining that he wouldn't be attending Christmas, but in the end he was quite happy with how it turned out. He felt slightly guilty that he hadn't sent any letters home already, but Harry didn't think his aunt or uncle had expected or particularly desired any to begin with. Even Dudley barely kept in contact during the school year, and they had telephones at Smeltings.

Dear Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and Dudley

Happy Christmas! I'm just writing to tell you that I'm very sorry but I won't be home for Christmas this year. I think it would be safer for us all if I stayed at school over Christmas. I've got a lot of work to do anyway and I can go to the library here as well, so that will be a real help. I've told Agrippa to deliver this letter at night time and into one of the garden windows, so at least the neighbours won't see an owl coming around with letters!

I thought I should let you know that I've settled in well and that all my classes are going fine. They've got us learning Latin! They make you do Latin at Smeltings, too, don't they? So that's one class we've got in common, Dudley! Although I don't suppose the other ones are anything similar at all...

They give us Houses and I was Sorted into one called Slytherin. I'm quite happy about everything, so there's no need to worry about anything like that. I've even made new friends.

We've have a few sightings of Sirius Black but there are Aurors at the school just like Flitwick said there would be so I feel quite safe here, and there are loads of charms and spells on the school anyway.

Please say hello and happy Christmas to Aunt Marge for me!

Happy Christmas,

Harry

Satisfied that he had covered everything that needed to be said, Harry made his way to the Owlery and attached his letter to Agrippa's leg.

"Take this home to Aunt Petunia, and try to deliver it to the back garden windows at night, if you can," he said. "Thanks, Agrippa."

The handsome owl nibbled at Harry's finger and flew off into the night, leaving Harry alone with dozens and dozens of owls. As he left the Owlery he noticed a lone rat making its escape from the death-trap that was a tower filled with owls. He wondered briefly if it was someone's pet, or if maybe Draco was right about Hogwarts's diminished state and he should be worried about how clean the castle was moving forward if the rats were so bold as to frequent the Owlery. In the end Harry brushed the thought away as he made his way back to the Slytherin Common Room feeling good about his decision to stay at the castle.

It would be a bit strange not waking up on Christmas morning – always incredibly early, because Dudley could never sleep past four in the morning at Christmas – and having to avoid Ripper while opening presents under the tree, but he would instead be at Hogwarts where there would be a Christmas feast and he would have the dorms to himself. That would be an interesting and novel experience, and Petunia did always say it was good to try new things. Of course, that was usually when Dudley was refusing to visit a museum or other cultural activity she'd planned, but Harry thought the concept applicable to his situation too.

Once back at the Common Room Harry slipped in between Theodore and Tracey and eased himself into the conversation. Everybody seemed to know by now that Harry was going to stay at Hogwarts over the holiday, although he had only told Theodore and Tracey and nobody ever mentioned it around Harry. Still, the whole group managed to have a lovely last night of term before the holidays, and Harry went to bed happy and content.

The next morning Harry awoke to a frenzied buzz of activity as the other boys in his dormitory raced to get their things packed to go home. The only one – other than Harry – who seemed totally at ease was Blaise, who lounged on his four poster bed looking out at the all the commotion with a wide grin.

"I don't know why they're bothering to pack most of this stuff," he said to Harry as Draco and Theodore argued over whose copy of 1000 Magical Herbs and Fungi they had found between their beds. "We'll be coming back after the holidays; why don't they just leave most of it here?"

Harry shrugged.

"I need to rotate my wardrobe," said Draco after conceding the book to Theodore. "You know, take home all my socks and pants and robes and bring back different ones." He paused. "Well, maybe the two of you don't know."

"I'm just taking home the books I need for homework and some other stuff I don't need anymore," said Blaise. "I'm leaving everything else here. Anyway, Harry, while this lot runs around like madmen d'you want to play Snap?"

"Yeah, alright," said Harry. He switched beds to sit on Blaise's, and the two of them played a few rounds of cards.

"You're going to Italy for Christmas, right?" asked Harry. "What's it like there? I've never been."

"It's really hot in the summer," he said, "But at Christmas it's not so bad—some places it even snows. We always stay with my great-grandfather at the winter palazzo, with all my great-uncles and uncles and cousins. It gets busy. We always go snow-flying on Christmas Day, which is nice."

Before Harry could reply, the stack of cards exploded just as he put his next card down.

"Oh, you win," he said. "Again?"

Blaise nodded and reached for the reformed cards to deal them again.

"My cousins all like to speak Italian really fast whenever I'm there," continued Blaise, "and I spend most of the year speaking English so it's hard to understand them sometimes."

"My cousin can be a bit like that as well," said Harry, commiserating. "Er, not with Italian, but you know what I mean."

Vince stumbled into the dormitory carrying his cat's toys. He dumped them onto his bed, and then turned to look at the rest of the boys.

"Has anyone seen my cat?" he asked. "I haven't seen him since breakfast yesterday."

"I saw Daphne playing with him last night," said Theodore. "She might know."

"Thanks, mate," said Vince. "I'll have to ask one of the girls to go find Daphne in her dorm…" The large boy sighed dramatically and trudged back out through the dormitory door to find his lost cat.

"I can't find my dragon socks!" whined Draco. "Are you sure none of you took them by mistake?"

Blaise rolled his eyes.

"As if anyone could ever mistake those socks as belonging to anyone other than you," Blaise said. "Anyway, I'm sure they're hanging around somewhere, Draco," he said. "Snap!"

The cards exploded.

Draco grunted and stormed off into the bathroom in search of his socks. As soon as the door closed behind him, Blaise sniggered and whispered something to Harry.

"They're tied up hanging over his bed," he said. "I put them there just before breakfast, because he's been a right little snit lately."

Harry glanced over at Draco's bed where, sure enough, his pair of socks with animated dragons on them hung from the top frame of his four-poster bed.

Draco spent the next half hour looking for his socks while becoming increasingly frustrated that he might be late until finally, Theodore took pity on him and pointed to the socks hanging from the ceiling of his bed. He snatched the garish socks and turned to glare at Blaise.

"That wasn't very funny, I spent all morning looking for those!"

Blaise shrugged.

"Well, it's not my fault you never look up." Blaise gathered up his cards and put them into the pocket of his robes. "It's nearly time to go, anyway. Harry, come to see us off?"

Harry accompanied the rest of the Slytherins to the grand doors of the Entrance Hall to say goodbye to everyone. He couldn't go any further, since there was an Auror checking everyone who left the castle with a Dark Detector and he didn't want to go through all of the palaver twice, but he did go as far as he could. He waited just inside the doors from the Entrance Hall with his friends as they stood in line for Dark Detection.

"See you after the holidays," he said to Theodore and Tracey. Daphne and Blaise stood a little further away talking to Millicent and one of the boys from Adder group.

"I'll write to you on Boxing Day!" said Tracey excitedly. "Both of you! Oh, Christmas is so much fun!"

Theodore shrugged.

"I guess. Our elves make a good dinner, at least."

Never especially exuberant, Harry had noticed that Theodore had become almost withdrawn the closer it came to Christmas. Although the other boy had never said anything specific, Harry had surmised that his mother had died not too long ago, and near enough to Christmas to sour the whole occasion for years going forward. Not knowing what to say or how to approach it, Harry hadn't said anything, but he did wonder how Theodore would be over Christmas with just his dad at home. He knew from experience that a person could be surrounded by family and still feel totally alone.

"Thank you," said Theodore after a few moments. "That would be nice. I will see Draco over the holidays—his mother always has a big party on New Year's Eve, but…"

"We can go through for Dark Detection," Tracey said. "Come on."

Harry joined Tracey and Theodore as they went forward for Dark Detection, then stood back just inside the door to wave them all off as they moved towards the carriages.

"The carriages are here," called Daphne. "Tracey, come in mine and Millie's! The boys can get their own!"

A fleet of horseless carriages made a strange procession up through the grounds towards the Entrance Hall. As the others made their way to get into the nearest carriages, Theodore hung back, seemingly hesitant to go further.

"I'll write to you as well," said Harry. "See you after Christmas, mate."

Theodore nodded slowly.

"See you," he said, and made his way towards the carriage where Blaise waited with two of the boys from Adder group, leaving Harry alone with the Dark Detection Auror and a handful of other students seeing off their friends. He waved one last goodbye as the carriages drew away from the castle, then returned to the Common Room on his own.


Over the next couple of days Harry found that the Slytherin House - and even the rest of Hogwarts – wasn't quite as empty as he would have assumed. Although Harry was the only first year staying over the Christmas period, a handful of second years and a fair few third years were too, as well as quite a few more of the fifth years. Most of the third years who had stayed wanted to keep working ahead of their OWLs, and a large number of the fifth years had stayed to keep working towards their NEWTs – even people like Marcus Flint who Harry wouldn't have thought would be interested in more work over a holiday period.

"Snape thinks I'll fail Charms," was all Flint had said when Harry had asked.

But the older students didn't want a first year hanging around while they revised – even though Harry knew some of them were just messing around – and the younger students already had friends to hang around with, so Harry found himself shooed away and alone more often than not.

Although some other first years had stayed over the holidays, the only one Harry had classes with was Ron Weasley, who seemed almost as put off by the thought of spending time with Harry as Harry was at spending time with Weasley, so both appeared to be avoiding the other. Although as far as Harry could tell Weasley was spending most of his holiday searching the castle for his elderly pet rat, so it wouldn't have been much of a loss had Harry wanted to hang out with him anyway. Looking for rats in dusty alcoves wasn't quite how he wanted to spend his Christmas holiday.

With more free time than he quite knew what to do with, Harry set about getting some of the things done that couldn't really be accomplished with a full castle. He spent a while putting together and casting some of the simpler spells on his charmable Snitch, managed to get the outer casing and wings connected properly, but once he reached the more difficult steps required to give it life, he put it aside for when he'd got better at charms – perhaps at the end of the year after exams.

So with his newfound freedom Harry set about exploring the bits of the castle that he hadn't had much chance to look at throughout the year.

He stayed well away from anything that looked like it might be a secret passage, mindful of Dumbledore's – and later Gemma's – warnings about danger in the castle, but Hogwarts castle was old and deceptively large with whole sections that no one seemed to use anymore, so if Harry wanted to explore, he had to investigate places that might have been secret passages. He tried to avoid the more dubious-looking spaces anyway.

Harry did also have to make some special effort to avoid the two Weasley twins, who had a well-deserved reputation amongst the Slytherins and seemed to be everywhere in the castle at any given time, but Harry eventually found himself exploring a disused section of the castle adjacent to the history department.

An old, narrow door that looked almost like the wooden panels lining the walls near the end of the history corridor led, to Harry's surprise, not to a disused classroom but to a whole other corridor lined with quiet and sluggish portraits, and ageing tapestries whose animation charms had mostly faded.

The long hallway had no windows, and the only light came from candles which flickered slowly into light as Harry walked past them. The hallway had no doors that Harry could see, except one at the very end of the long, narrow space – another door semi-disguised as a part of the panelling. A few of the portraits woke up as Harry passed them by, and started to chatter in various languages Harry didn't understand.

"Is this an art gallery?" Harry wondered aloud. He supposed such a thing wouldn't be entirely out of place at Hogwarts, which had all sorts of strange things, and an art gallery wasn't such an odd thing to find in a castle. He moved closer to one of the paintings to take a better look at the plaque on its frame.

"'Goblins advance on Chester, by Francois Bullingdon'," Harry read from the plaque. The figures in the painting moved but didn't make any sound. Although the paint had faded somewhat, Harry could see a goblin army rendered in earthy colours advancing on a medieval-looking town filled with burning buildings.

Harry took a step backwards to look at the section of the wall. All of the paintings along it seemed to show various different scenarios from a series of battles during a goblin rebellion. Harry walked further along the gallery and stopped at a particularly grisly painting depicting the beheading of a man by an especially sinister-looking goblin. Once the man's head rolled off-canvas, the painting looped back around to show the beheading again and again in all its grisly glory.

"'The Beheading of Caractacus Burke, by Aloysius Wandwright'," Harry read. "Charming."

Harry moved away from the depressing section of wall about goblin rebellions to look at a different set of paintings. Further down the hallway the paintings seemed to depict the Norman invasion of England, parts of which Harry recognised from his Muggle primary school – although his school textbooks had never shown wizards marching at the head of William the Conqueror's armies.

Vernon – never one to read if he didn't have to – had several books on the Norman Conquest which he had even actually read, so Harry wondered what he would think about the real story behind it. He took a closer look at the set of paintings on the Conquest and their plaques and tried to remember the gist of it so that he could tell Vernon at a later date, then moved on.

"'Convention of the First Wizards' Council, by Euronwy ap Gwilym'," Harry read from a plaque underneath a particularly large painting half-way down the corridor. The painting showed a dozen or so wizards and witches – none of whom wore the robes Harry had grown accustomed to – gathered around a stone table, all waiting to sign a piece of parchment.

Harry walked to the end of the gallery, stopping momentarily at each painting to read its title and adjacent plaque to get a better understanding of what the room was all about. Each section of wall appeared to show a different part of the history of the islands, including the goblin rebellions, the Norman Conquest, and even the extermination of the druids at Ynys Môn. The final painting – a wide landscape framed by a dulled gold frame – depicted the erection of Hogwarts castle by the Founders.

The castle in the painting looked wildly different from the castle in which Harry stood, with many of its features rendered in wood rather than the more familiar stone, but he thought that he could recognise some of the features of the modern castle, such as the Entrance Hall.

"F-few people ever find this g-gallery these days, Mr P-potter," said someone from behind Harry. Harry nearly jumped right out of his skin at the unexpected intrusion. Especially since it had been from Quirrell.

"Professor Quirrell!" said Harry. He turned to look at the young, but very strange, professor and felt a sharp tingle in his scar. "Sorry, I didn't realise you were there…"

"Do you perhaps have an interest in history, Mr Potter?" asked Quirrell after a few moments of silence during which time he stared right at Harry, unblinking. "It would be f-fitting, given your p-place in it."

"It's not my favourite class," said Harry. "I was just exploring the castle and I found this door…"

"The rooms adjoining this gallery are all quite interesting, if you have an interest in natural history," continued Quirrell. "And each one is q-quite safe. There is a whole d-dragon skeleton, I believe. As well as a stuffed karkadann." Quirrell paused. "Tell me, you wouldn't be planning to search for s-secret passages and f-forgotten things, would you?" Quirrell leaned forward and peered closely at Harry, his eyes lingering over Harry's scar for an awfully long time.

"Er, no—Dum—Professor Dumbledore said it wasn't safe, and there's other places I wanted to go anyway…" said Harry. "I only found this accidentally..." He broke eye contact with the odd professor. Truthfully, Harry did wonder where exactly these new and unexpected passageways could lead – what Slytherin could be satisfied knowing about a secret without knowing the secret itself, after all? – but more or less everyone whose opinion Harry valued thought actively looking for these things during the current situation with Sirius Black would be more dangerous than the secret was worth. What if Black was hiding in one?

And everyone said Hogwarts had plenty of other secrets to be getting on with anyway, so Harry resolved to find those instead. This new gallery looked to be a good enough start, depending on what he found beyond the door at its end. But that would have to wait until another day, since he felt increasingly uneasy spending time around Professor Quirrell and wanted to find any excuse to leave.

"I should go do my homework," Harry said. "Thanks for the tip about the other rooms, Professor—I'll have to take a look another day! See you in class." Harry didn't wait for the odd professor to say goodbye, and just left the narrow gallery as quickly as possible.

Over the next few days in the run up to Christmas Harry attempted to avoid any more interactions with Professor Quirrell, and stuck to parts of the castle he knew better like the library and parts of the dungeons. He kept hearing things in the lower levels of the dungeons, anyway, and thought there might be hidden portraits or talking statues there that he wanted to look for. Something about Professor Quirrell felt off to him – more than his stuttering and those moments when he stared off as if listening for something that nobody else could hear – and Harry didn't want to be alone with him any longer than was necessary.

In any case Harry had a lot of homework to be getting on with, and a lot of time to fill and nobody to fill it with, so he felt as if the time he spent in the library was actually to his own benefit.

Over the past few months Harry had noticed rather a lot of little references, furtive looks, and aborted statements from his classmates and the upper year Slytherins that had all gone unexplained. He hadn't asked, to be fair, but just asking seemed like a bad idea. They were all things people were expected to just know, and of course Harry didn't.

Harry knew, too, that there was quite a lot of history and context that everyone else understood, most of which Harry had no clue about to even wonder at. So he set about searching for more information, first of all about Voldemort and his war in general, and about Sirius Black specifically, and if he could manage to find it, something in the area of pureblood family histories.

Harry spent more time than he would have wanted searching through the history section in the library until he realised it was pointless because almost none of the books contained the information he wanted to know, and when one did, it was still far too vague or academic in nature. What Harry wanted was something closer to the source – interviews, or news articles, or something along those lines. In the end he went to ask Madam Pince for help, which he was loath to do given her usual attitude to students in the library.

Instead, he found she was more than happy to direct him where he wanted.

"Madam Pince? I was looking for some information about the, erm, the Blood War? I found the history books in the history section but I was looking for something… well, something like interviews and news articles and things like that, but I can't find where they are…"

"Ah, interested in the primary sources? Well, I can't say I blame you; most of the work on the period has been lacking." Madam Pince looked over her little glasses at him. "Well, come with me. We keep the old editions and interview transcripts and things of that nature in a special archive. You won't have needed it yet, of course."

Madam Pince rose from her desk and beckoned at Harry to follow her. He followed her through parts of the library he'd never visited before, nodding and making appropriate noises as the librarian offered directions and explanations of the various bits they passed, until she reached a section of the library that had been divided from the rest by thick red ropes. She stopped and reached inside her robes and pulled out a little card on a necklace, then handed it to Harry.

"You need this to pass through the ropes, Mr Potter," said the librarian. "You can find newspapers here, from newest to oldest the further back you go. A little way in there's a stack filled with interview transcripts and the like. I'm sure you can figure it all out. When you're done, bring the card back to me before you leave the library. I hope I can trust you to be respectful of library rules and of the archive in particular."

Harry nodded. That was easy enough, and with no one to talk to, he was sure he could manage to be quiet enough for Pince to ignore.

"Yes, Madam Pince. I'll be careful, and I promise I'll bring back the card before I go."

"See that you do, Mr Potter," said Madam Pince before retreating back to her desk.

Harry slipped the access card over his head and stepped inside the archive after moving the rope divider out of the way. He knew that he wouldn't find much in the newest editions at the front of the archives, since what he wanted to know about had happened about thirteen years ago. He located a desk which he chose as his base of operations, and left his things there while he went searching.

Harry had heard whisperings about several of his classmates – and the upper years – regarding their families' involvement in the Blood War, and usually because they were rumoured to be on the wrong side of it. He thought that there would be an abundance of information in the old Daily Prophet newspapers from directly after the war, and with any luck there would be something about why Sirius Black would be particularly interested in Harry. His aunt had said Black was a friend of his parents, and the history books only mentioned his crimes – the killing of twelve Muggles and a wizard – which was useful to know but not exactly what Harry wanted to find out.

It took Harry at least half an hour to locate the newspapers from the weeks after Voldemort's demise, but what he found was very interesting. He brought back six editions of the Daily Prophet from the week immediately after that Hallowe'en night, and a selection of papers from the Death Eater trials that followed. He spread the papers out over his table and regarded them eagerly.

'Malfoy accused'

'Lestranges caught in Longbottom attack'

'Muggles murdered – Sirius Black to blame'

'Guilty or Nott?'

'Malfoy acquitted!'

He read over the articles about Draco's father, Lucius, first of all. Credible witnesses placed him at the scene of several different crimes, dressed in full Death Eater regalia – which was the least of the accusations levelled at the Malfoy patriarch. In the end, Lucius Malfoy's acquittal and defence had hinged on something called the Imperius Curse, which from what Harry had read was some sort of illegal magical mind-control. Some of the witnesses had given evidence to suggest that the Imperius was not to blame for Malfoy's actions, but it had evidently been insufficient in the eyes of the court for a prosecution. Indeed, the elder Malfoy had been acquitted of all charges and paid compensation after the fact. Despite that, from what Harry had heard around the Common Room and the rest of the school, the accusations had never quite gone away.

Harry wasn't sure how to feel about the situation. On the one hand, it was known fact that Draco's father had been present at and participated in several crimes during the Blood War. On the other hand, it was a matter of legal fact that he had been mind-controlled into committing the crimes. The defence did seem to be rather quite solid from what Harry could tell, at least insofar as to be impossible to tell whether it was true or not. Harry decided that he didn't need to figure out whether Lucius Malfoy had lied or not at precisely that moment, since he now knew enough to understand what was going on around him whenever his friends made certain comments.

Instead, Harry reached for the paper with headlines about Theodore's father.

Unlike Draco's father, the elder Nott had never been formally charged with any kind of wrong-doing. Instead, his name had been given by several convicted Death Eaters during their own trials, although there had never been enough evidence to move forward for a conviction or even a trial. Still, Theodore's father had had masses of column inches dedicated to his supposed wrong-doings, to which he had never responded publicly. He hadn't even launched any kind of legal defence, according to the newspapers, and instead seemed to have simply ignored the situation entirely.

Harry moved on to the report about the Longbottoms, who turned out to be Neville Longbottom's parents. Draco's aunt – and Sirius Black's cousin – had been the leading perpetrator of the attack, which rendered the Longbottoms incurably insane. Bellatrix Lestrange had ended up convicted of a rather long list of crimes in addition to being a Death Eater. Her defence – paid for by her sister, Narcissa Malfoy – seemed to be that she had suffered from a bout of the 'Black madness' and therefore, was not guilty by reasons of insanity. Thankfully, in Harry's opinion, the defence had failed. The circumstances surrounding Longbottom's parents' attack gave Harry a lot more sympathy for the boy. In a way, they had experienced much the same thing, and had both ended up without their parents around. Reading the reports gave Harry a bit of insight into the 'family business' between Draco and Longbottom. It seemed that Draco's family was deeply embedded in the Blood War, whether – if one took Lucius's defence at face value – as victims or as perpetrators.

It left a sour taste in Harry's mouth.

Harry tackled the articles on Sirius Black next, of which there were many. Various different journalists had written reports, columns, and exposés on what had become known as the 'Black Affair', and it was an arduous task to wade through them in search of pertinent information. In the end, Harry found information which confirmed his aunt's words that Black had been close personal friends with Harry's father, James – to the point that he had even lived with Harry's wizarding grandparents for several years while at school. Some people blamed Black for betraying Harry's parents to Voldemort, but that hadn't what the man had been sent to Azkaban for. Black hadn't even been convicted of being a Death Eater. The articles all said he'd been sent to prison for murdering twelve Muggles and a wizard the day after Voldemort's death.

Black was convicted – without trial, which Harry thought strange – of murdering twelve Muggles and a wizard, his friend Peter Pettigrew, soon after Voldemort's death. Despite the lack of trial, the Ministry had been quick to put about the official story of Black's arrest and conviction. Pettigrew's body had never been found, although crime scene wizards had managed to find a single finger. Black had gone to the cells laughing.

There were enough clues scattered through the various transcripts and archived news articles Harry had read for Harry to begin building a theory surrounding Sirius Black and his parents. Black had obviously come from a Dark family, and a family whose 'madness' was well-known enough that Narcissa Malfoy had attempted to use it to defend her Death Eater sister. Black had been friends with Harry's father all throughout school. Close friends, by all accounts, especially to have been present at his parents' secret wedding – which Black had been, according to Petunia. Black's relationship with Harry's parents made him well-placed to betray them on Voldemort's orders, Harry supposed. The only question was why. Perhaps a bout of the 'Black madness', assuming it was real, had persuaded him to defect to Voldemort? Harry mulled it over. Maybe Black had argued with his parents during the latter days of the War, and in a fit of pique had gone over to Voldemort?

"That doesn't sound right," muttered Harry. Not for such a petty reason; there had to be something else. There was the matter of the Black madness if such a thing did exist, but even so...

Or had Black's allegiance maybe been an older thing, a result of being a pureblood from a Dark family? Had he been displeased that Harry's father had married his mother, and gone to Voldemort to fix the problem?

Harry couldn't decide.

Still, it was more context than Harry had had before, even if he couldn't come to a definitive conclusion.

Harry spent several more hours poring over old copies of the Daily Prophet, researching all of the little bits and pieces he'd heard about but which had gone unexplained by his new classmates, and later he even managed to find a much more easily digestible overview of the Death Eaters. When it was time for the library to close, Harry reluctantly put away everything he had chosen to look at and returned his access card to Madam Pince.

Over the next few days Harry returned to the library – and the archives – several times, but eventually just got on with his homework, using the thousands of books in the library wisely, and soon enough it was Christmas.