A/N: Thank you all for the reviews! My motivation grew with each incremental increase of the review count lol. My personal favourite was left by Guest, which simply said "h". Truly touching.

As always, enjoy!

Chapter Twelve

A Warty Hog's Christmas

It began snowing in mid-December, which made reading beneath her favourite tree much more difficult. When it first snowed, Alex stubbornly went out anyway, armed with a thick sheet and layers of clothing. In addition to a warming charm, she needed a drying spell each time the melted snow seeped into the sheet beneath her. Alex didn't read much in the end, but at least she got to see Fred and George toss armfuls of snowballs at Voldemort (even if they thought it was merely the back of Quirrell's head).

Alex couldn't even write to her parents. Students were advised to limit letter-sending, for the owls that managed to fight their way through the harsh weather had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before being deemed fit for the owlery again.

The last letter they had exchanged was from her mum and dad. It explained how things were getting busier at work for the former, while the latter spend most of his free time visiting his ill friend. They didn't explicitly say it, but Alex had a feeling she'd be spending Christmas at Hogwarts this year.

Spitfire squirmed in her arms, and Alex looked around for the source of his agitation. Her eyes landed on a shock of blonde hair. Malfoy and his goons were marching over to Harry and co., looking ready to start a fight. Clicking her tongue, Alex set down Spitfire. "Go bother the blonde, Spit," she ordered. Her cat happily sprinted towards the pesky weasel.

Whatever Malfoy was saying was interrupted by Spitfire, who wove around his legs before jumping up and scrambling up him like the tree Hagrid was holding. As Alex drew closer, she could hear his spluttered commands for Crabbe and Goyle to get rid of Spit, who easily danced in and out of their hands. Harry, Ron and Hermione laughed openly and unabashedly at the sight.

"Come here, boy," said Alex, arms open. Spitfire used Malfoy's head as a launch pad, knocking him off-balance for a moment, and settled back into her grip. "Was my cat bothering you, Malfoy?" she asked coolly.

"Fortescue," he grumbled. He probably didn't know how to treat her; she was a Slytherin, but she didn't care for him much, unlike the others. They all either feared or respected the Malfoy line in one way or another, but Alex simply didn't care. "Keep better control of your mangy cat."

"Of course."

Off-kilter due to her interruption, Malfoy left, but not without a parting glare at Harry and not without jostling the tree, sending needles everywhere.

"Prat," she muttered, Vanishing the litter as Spitfire moved to Hermione. "Did you guys have class with him just then?"

"Yeah," spat Ron, "and he was making fun of Harry, too."

Alex glanced at Harry, who was focused intensely on Hagrid as he shifted the tree into a more comfortable position. "Yeah?" she asked. "Was it because he was jealous of Harry's record-breaking, never-before-seen, legendary quidditch skills?"

Harry grew red, but she wasn't sure whether it was out of embarrassment or the laughter he was barely containing. Alex smirked to herself as Hagrid informed them he was headed to the Great Hall, which would no doubt look lovely in preparation for the holidays.

Alex watched avidly as golden bubbles blossomed from Professor Flitwick's wand as he waved it around the tree. The freshly-made baubles settled nicely onto the branches. She wondered if he'd be willing to teach her the spell.

"There's a half-hour until lunch," noted Hermione. "We should be getting to the library."

"The library?" echoed Hagrid, surprised. "Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"

"Oh, we're not working," Harry told him brightly. "Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel, we've been trying to find out who he is."

"Yeh what?" Hagrid seemed flabbergasted. "Listen here—I've told yeh–drop it. It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'."

"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," reasoned Hermione.

"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Harry added. "We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere—just give us a hint—I know I've read his name somewhere."

"I'm sayin' nothin'," said Hagrid flatly.

"Just have to find out for ourselves, then," said Ron, shrugging.

"Want to come, Alex?" asked Harry.

"We could use the help," added Hermione.

Alex shook her head with a frown. "No, thanks. Besides, you guys really should respect Hagrid's wishes. Curiosity killed the cat and all that."

Harry and Ron looked uneasy, but Hermione remained steadfast as she declared, "Satisfaction brought it back." They shared a look before speeding off towards the library, leaving Hagrid disgruntled and Alex disappointed but unsurprised.

She looked to Hagrid. "Do you need help with anything?"

"Hey, Cedric," she said, stepping into the Room of Requirement. "I brought some snacks."

"Thanks," Cedric replied, smiling. He happily accepted the crisps. "Are you going home for the holidays again?"

Alex shook her head as she sat on the floor next to him. The room was the same as always, except the colours were more Christmas-like: red and green. She tore open a bag of crisps. "Parents are busy, so I'm staying in the castle."

Cedric frowned. "That's a shame."

"You?"

"Going home."

Alex sighed. "That's a shame."

Cedric chuckled, flopping onto the rug and soaking in the warmth of the fire for a few moments. "It's Hufflepuff against Ravenclaw once everyone gets back," he informed her.

"Your first game." Alex worked out the kink in her neck. "Nervous?"

"A bit," he admitted. "It's hard being Seeker when the previous one pretty much blows everyone out of the water."

Alex inspected Cedric's face carefully. Last time, when she told him she went to the game, he had seemed…put-off.

"You never go to the matches," he said, astonished.

She had shrugged and said, "It was Harry's first game."

"What about mine?" he had asked, an odd expression creeping up on his face.

Alex eyed him like he had grown a second head. "Don't be weird," she said, uncomfortable. "Of course I'm going."

Cedric had lit up like a Christmas tree.

Hufflepuffs. She would never understand them.

"I still can't believe you're good mates with Harry Potter." Cedric smiled. "So bizarre."

"I don't understand why," she said, sniffing pompously, "seeing how we're both warriors of love and justice."

"Right," laughed Cedric. "Whatever you say."

She made a face at him, and he only laughed harder.

Christmas at Hogwarts wasn't so bad, Alex discovered. All of her roommates had gone home for the break, meaning she was free to sleep as erratically as she wanted. Though the urge to snoop around was tempting, Alex was much too respectful of their privacy to do so. Besides, it was practically a given that the other beds and drawers were rigged with jinxes and hexes to keep out those with sticky beaks.

The sight of presents surprised her. It was a much larger haul than last year. Excited, Alex placed the gifts into her bag, scooped Spitfire into her arms, and headed straight towards Gryffindor tower. She, Ron and Harry had decided to wait and open them together.

Alex shivered slightly as she walked. In addition to her sleepwear, she also donned a large, fluffy sweater and bunny slippers. Perhaps not the most practical of clothing, but definitely the most agreeable (in her eyes, anyway).

"Happy holidays, Meredith," Alex told the portrait guarding Gryffindor tower.

The Lady brightened, recognising her. "To you as well, Alexandra dear. Password?"

"Rabbit's foot," she said, smiling and stepping in. "Thank you."

"You're welcome!" sang Meredith as she closed the door behind her.

Alex surveyed the Gryffindor common room with great interest. It was so bright and warm, unlike hers, and looked every inch the home it should be. It was bereft of Harry and Ron, though, so she ascended one of the staircases, hoping it led to the boys' dorms. She shifted Spit onto her shoulder like a potato sack, and slowly opened the first door she came across.

A relieved sigh escaped her when she spotted a familiar head of red hair. Ron was still in bed, snoring away like it wasn't even Christmas. Harry stirred at her entrance, hands fumbling on his dresser for his glasses.

Alex walked towards them, placing her presents by theirs and dumping Spit onto Ron's face. She watched with no small amount of glee as both boys jolted awake – Ron, frightened from the ball of fur and claws stomping around on his bed and Harry, surprised by the sudden screams of his friend.

She smiled at them as they stared at her in stunned bemusement. "Morning."

Ron was gaping at her like a fish out of water. "You can't just come in here. This is the boys' dormitory!"

"Ronald, please," replied Alex with a roll of her eyes. She dug Spitfire out of the covers from when Ron had thrashed around and uprooted his blankets. "The only difference between your dorm and mine is the weird smell here. What is that? Milk?"

Ron shifted slightly, trying and failing to hide the bottle of milk on his stand. How long had that been there?

"Well, if you two are just gonna sit here, it looks like all your presents will be mine."

The boys didn't require any more prompting. They practically jumped out of their beds, with Ron attacking the piles of presents on the floor while Harry smiled dumbly at his.

"I've got presents," he said, awed.

"What did you expect?" Ron snorted, rifling through his much larger pile. "Turnips?"

Knowing the Dursleys, Alex wouldn't be too surprised if Harry had actually received that for Christmas. They shared a significant glance, Harry amused, Alex with her eyebrows raised.

Harry tended to his own pile, with Alex in the middle of him and Ron. Her parents had received a book each from her – for her mum, a book on physical self-defence; for her dad, a cookbook from one of the most innovative chefs in the both the magical and non-magical worlds. Duncan and Grant both received some muggle candy before they left for the break, and Cedric had received books on muggle fairy tales. Alex wondered how he'd react to the two contrasting versions. The Grimm brothers were clearly on something when they had written theirs.

Alex took out the first parcel, a small one that fit in the palm of her hand and was wrapped in brown paper. It was from Hagrid. Wide-eyed, Alex carefully peeled the paper off.

"What's that?" asked Harry.

"It's a dog." Alex grinned, turning the wooden carving in her hand as she inspected. It was made finely, the wood shaped into egg and carved into an image of a cartoonish dog. It was amazing!

There was a note taped to the bottom. It read in Hagrid's messy scrawl: Merry Christmas, Alex. Thank you again for Fang's collar. The little brute won't let me take it off. Hagrid.

This was already turning out to be the best Christmas ever. She hoped Hagrid enjoyed the books on non-magical animals she got him.

"Is it from Hagrid?" Harry smiled when she nodded. "He got me this." He showed her the wooden flute he was fiddling with. After a bit of encouragement, Harry blew into it. Alex's brows rose at the owl-like hoot that emerged.

"Maybe it's an owl-caller," she suggested. "You know, like a dog whistle."

"Huh. Maybe."

"Do you have an owl? You could try it out."

Harry nodded absentmindedly as he worked on his next gift. "Yeah, Hagrid got her for me. Name's Hedwig."

"Can I meet her sometime?" Inwardly, Alex praised herself for not sounding like the overzealous creep that she was.

"Yeah, sure."

Alex grinned.

All in all, she received a pretty but practical watch from her parents and a novel about a crime-fighting teenage witch from Cedric. The former was nice, and extremely useful—no more tempus, thank Merlin—but the latter was the one that took her breath away. Alex brushed her fingers against the colourful cover reverently. It was perfect.

Her attention was ripped away from the novel by the gasps of Ron and Harry. They were cooing over what was undoubtedly the invisibility cloak, and Alex could freely admit it was beautiful. It shimmered and shone like woven silver.

Although Harry was amazed by the gift, he looked somewhat sombre. Before Alex could check on him, though, the door was flung open. George and Fred bounded in, screaming a jolly "MERRY CHRISTMAS!" before gushing over Harry's own Weasley-made jumper. They forced Ron to put on his, then Percy's, before marching him down to common room.

The Weasleys and Harry spent most of the afternoon engaged in a fierce snowball fight. Alex had planned to sit out for the most part, but then a wayward snowball had slammed into the side of her face, and things quickly derailed from there. The wands came out, and those who weren't first-years charmed the hell out of the snow, and all the wand-wielders silently agreed to attack the vulnerable firsties together.

Harry and Ron squealed and squawked as they furiously remade their defensive wall. Alex found herself huddled behind her own mountain with the older Weasley brothers, everyone guffawing at the ridiculous sounds the two boys were making.

Alex smiled, content, even as the second round began. Never in her life did she think this moment would actually come into fruition.

They eventually stopped for lunch. Merlin forbid anything come in between Ron Weasley and food. Alex was half-afraid that the moment the snowball mania ended was when the Weasleys came to their senses and realised they were cavorting with a slimy, sneaky Slytherin.

Her fears were unfounded. They were still beaming by the time they entered the Great Hall, even going so far as to sit with her for dinner. Alex held her breath, stunned. It must have been the Christmas spirit infecting them – that was the only possible explanation.

Well, whatever it was, she wasn't going to stop it. All but one of the tables was packed away, forcing everyone to sit together. The professors sat on one end as the students sat on the other, and Alex was the only one brave enough to close the distance between the two parties. On her left sat Professor Flitwick—with whom she had a riveting discussion about Charms—and on the other sat Harry. Any and all conversation was lost, though, when the food arrived.

It was amazing – full of roast hams and turkeys and chickens, gleaming boats of gravy and tureens of buttered peas and corn. The mash was creamy and delectable, and half her plate was filled with just that. There was a rich pumpkin soup that invigorated Alex the moment she swallowed a bite, and the desserts… Wow. If she thought Halloween had nothing on Christmas at Hogwarts.

It was almost perfect. It was a shame her parents were so busy, but she decided the alternative wasn't too bad.

"Alex, pull one with me," said Harry, waving a green and gold Christmas cracker in her face.

Smiling, Alex wiped her hands on a napkin. "Sure," she agreed.

Using both hands, she pulled it open with a crack! Two white mice poured out, but they weren't the vermin she was used to seeing – they were too small and too clean to be anything but magic. Alex plucked Spitfire from the ground and kept him firmly tucked in her arms. Real or not, she wasn't going to let her cat bat them around. Spitfire threw a fit, squirming violently in her grasp, but she appeased him with some poultry.

Harry forced them to pull on some more, and in the end the crackers had given him more mice, a wizard's chess set, and a Grow-Your-Own-Warts kit. Alex eyed his treasures with bemusement. Who thought of these prizes? At least her one—luminous, nonexplodable balloons—were enchanting. She let Spitfire play with these, even as she tied one to his collar so she could keep an eye on him at all times. It had the added bonus of making Hagrid giggle drunkenly.

They returned to the Gryffindor common room, whereupon Ron proceeded to blow Harry out of the water in a game of wizard's chess.

Harry grimaced as he got up. "I wouldn't have lost so badly if Percy didn't try to 'help' me," he muttered to her.

Alex smirked. "Keep telling yourself that, Harry."

"You play, then. Ron's brutal."

"Yeah – no, thanks. I know when to pick my battles."

Alex grew bored after watching Ron demolish everyone, so she went around the common room. She wasn't snooping, exactly – she was just familiarising herself with her surroundings. Yeah.

Not that there was much to get to know. She watched the lion in the portrait over the fireplace a bit before taking in the rich tapestries on the walls. She could see all the Founders, as well as several unidentified witches and wizards. But what really got her attention was the bookcase tucked into the corner of the round room. Alex didn't look up until Spitfire jumped into her lap hours later.

Glancing at her new, silver watch, Alex was surprised to note it was almost time for bed. "Do you think your roomies will mind if I use one of their beds?" she asked Ron and Harry, who had moved on from chess and were playing exploding snap.

Harry massaged his singed eyebrow. "Probably."

"Why do you need their beds?" Ron asked, suspicious.

"I'm too lazy to go back to the Slytherin common room."

"Then use the girls' dorms."

Alex made a face at him. "That's weird, Ron. It'd be like trespassing."

Ron spluttered for a bit at the illogicality of her argument. He finally did the smart thing and gave up, ignoring her with a resigned sigh. "Do whatever you want."

"You know what?" she said thoughtfully. "I'll just sleep in the common room."

Ron's exasperated groan was drowned out by Harry's laughter. Alex smirked at Harry before busying herself by transfiguring the plush red couch into a comfortable bed. She was just working on the cushions when Harry suddenly burst out a, "Hey! You don't have a spare bed!"

Alex stared at Harry dumbly. "What?"

"Last year, when I stayed over during the break, you gave me your spare bed! But it wasn't a spare, you just used magic to make a new one."

Oh, that. Alex grinned. "Technically, we replicated one using magic."

Harry shook his head. "I can't believe it took me this long to work that out," he grumbled to himself. He and Ron soon shot up to their dorms, ready for bed themselves. Alex was just settling into her own makeshift bed when Harry climbed back down the stairs, a package in his hands.

"Thank you for your present, Alex," he said, coming to a stop before her.

"Oh, no worries." Alex smiled up at him. "Put that broom kit to good use, okay? The Quidditch Cup will be yours in no time."

"You're not supporting your own House?"

"You kidding me?" she scoffed. "Malfoy already gloats enough as it is. Can you imagine how insufferable he'd be if we won? He'd make it seem like he won the Cup himself."

"That sounds about right," Harry agreed, grinning slightly. His expression softened as he handed her the package in his hands. "I'm sorry for not getting you anything last year. Hopefully this will make up for it."

Alex rolled her eyes. "Like I said last year, you don't need to worry about gifts. Your presence is my present."

"You're never going to stop saying that, are you?"

Alex laughed softly as she unwrapped the purple paper. "Nope." Her face went slack with surprise as the she laid eyes on her gift. "Harry," she murmured. "What is this?"

"A wand maintenance kit," Harry said proudly. "There's even stuff for your wrist holder."

"How'd you manage to buy this?"

"My parents left me a vault at Gringotts."

"No, not that." Alex was fully aware of the trust-fund jock in front of her. "How'd you go out and buy it?"

"I didn't." Harry rocked back and forth on his heels. "I asked Hagrid about buying you something, and he showed me how to order things using catalogues. You owl them straight to Diagon Alley with some money, and they owl you the item right back."

Like online shopping. "Thanks," she said warmly. "Did you get anything for the others?"

"Just some sweets," he admitted, rubbing the nape of his neck sheepishly.

Alex laughed softly. "Should've just gotten everyone a kit," she teased.

He smiled. "I'm not sure everyone wants one as much as you do."

"They'll regret it once their wands abandon them for me."

Harry's eyes widened. "They can do that?"

Alex patted the spot beside her. "Come sit, young flobberworm. You've much to learn."