Chapter 52: Alone for Christmas: Part 1

I filed the information about the spell away in my mind and shoved the book back on the shelf. Then I bolted out of the restricted section, suddenly feeling much calmer back in the archives section. Madam Pince returned only five minutes later, and she made her rounds through the aisles to check that everything was in order. When she approached the restricted section, I could feel my heart pounding for fear that I had left something out of place and that she would notice, but she walked on and I let out a breath I hadn't known I was holding.

I realized I could no longer focus in the library with Madam Pince wandering around, so I gathered my books and left, heading to the Great Hall to join the boys for lunch. Ron still seemed a little upset with me, but when I suggested we play wizard's chess after lunch, he brightened, all memories of our argument forgotten. I couldn't go back to the library anyway, at least not until the feelings of guilt and dread deep inside me lightened.

As it was Christmas Eve, we spent the rest of the day relaxing in the common room. Around four in the afternoon, I decided to try to work a little bit on my herbology homework, while Harry and Ron chose to go out to the transfiguration courtyard and have a snowball fight. Though it crossed my mind to chastise them for neglecting their schoolwork, I didn't think I could handle another argument that day, so I let them go.

Christmas morning, I awoke to discover that my head had been pushed off my pillow and was hanging at an awkward angle off my bed. My neck ached, and I was surprised it didn't wake me up earlier. When I sat up, grumbling, Crookshanks glanced at me from his position, curled into a ball in the center of my pillow. I laughed and tried to pet him, receiving a small bite on my thumb instead.

As I was alone in my dormitory, I decided to go to Harry and Ron's dorm and suggest we bring our presents down to the common room and open them by the fire. If I was lucky, they wouldn't have started yet. I got up and moved to leave, but Crookshanks meowed very loudly at me.

"Do you want to come too?" I asked, smiling when the cat got up and plowed his way through the presents to reach me. Somehow a ribbon managed to get dislodged from the present I intended to give to Ron and it was now hanging around Crookshanks' neck. I laughed and picked the silly thing up, carrying him with me to the boy's dormitory.

When I walked in, the first thing I noticed was that Harry and Ron were having fun without me. The second thing I noticed was that they were already well through opening their presents and that they'd obviously not thought to wait for me.

Immediately upon seeing me with Crookshanks in hand, Ron pointed at my cat angrily and ordered me not to bring him into the dorm. I was going to tell Ron that it was Christmas and nobody should be excluded from the festivities, including felines, but then I noticed the very new, very good, very expensive broom right in front of Harry. I dropped Crookshanks unceremoniously onto the nearest bed, my eyes fixed on the broom.

When Harry revealed that he didn't know who'd sent it to him, I became immediately suspicious. A firebolt was a very big gift. Surely the sender would want Harry to know who they were, so he could thank them. What would motivate someone to spend so much money on something but keep it a secret? If the sender had purely good intentions, then surely they would want credit for buying the broom, which could only mean that the broom was sent with bad intentions. And I could only think of one person who would want to hurt Harry.

As Harry and Ron argued with me about the safety of the broom and the mystery of its sender, I didn't notice Crookshanks slowly stalking his way under the empty beds belonging to Seamus, Dean, and Neville as he approached Ron's bed.

None of us were paying attention when Crookshanks lunged at Scabbers, but as Crookshanks missed Scabbers and clawed at Ron's arm, ripping a huge hole in his pyjamas, Ron cried out in rage. He flailed and knocked Crookshanks to the floor as he wrapped himself around his rat, all the while yelling at me. As Crookshanks prepared to leap at Ron again, Ron swung out with a foot to kick him and missed, hitting Harry's trunk instead.

I ran over and scooped up Crookshanks and wrestled with him as he tried to wriggle out of my grasp.

"Crookshanks stop it!" I muttered to him. "You're being vey rude!"

With Harry's trunk knocked open, a sneakoscope fell out and immediately started whistling very loudly. In the chaos of Harry trying to quiet the sneakoscope, Ron nursing his foot, and me trying to get Crookshanks to calm down, Ron demanded that I leave, his voice frustrated and annoyed.

I backed away and quickly ran down the stairs to the common room and then back up to my own dorm, biting back the tears. All I'd wanted was a nice Christmas morning with my friends, but as usual everything had gone sideways as soon as I'd arrived. I was starting to think that Harry and Ron would prefer not to have me around.

I'd seen Ron's face when Harry had shown up on our second visit to Hogsmeade. He'd been so excited not to have to spend the entire day alone with me. And Ron hated Crookshanks. In fact, I was convinced that Crookshanks' behavior was a reaction to Ron's obvious dislike of him. Animals can sense these sorts of things in people. If Ron wouldn't get so worked up every time Crookshanks was around, then maybe Crookshanks would always be attacking him and his rat.

I set Crookshanks down on Lavender's bed and began to walk back towards my own. When Crookshanks started to head back to the door, I cut him off, shutting the door in front of him.

"Oh no you don't," I said, shaking a finger at him. "We don't need to make any more of a ruckus than we already have." I sighed to myself, trying to figure out how we were going to salvage the day now.

I was worried for Harry and this new broom, but I couldn't tell him now without Ron dismissing it and accusing me of trying to suck the fun out of everything. I was also angry with Ron for trying to kick Crookshanks. Crookshanks was just doing what cats do. And he was always accusing me of hating Scabbers, but if Ron knew me at all, he'd know I cared just as much about Scabbers as I did about Crookshanks. I would never intentionally kick Scabbers, because I knew it would upset Ron. Yet Ron had no problem kicking Crookshanks.

I looked back at the presents on the end of my bed and frowned. There were the gifts for Harry and Ron that I had owl-ordered, since I didn't want Ron to catch me buying his gift when we were in Hogsmeade, and there was the gift I had intended to send to my parents.

First, I picked up the one for my parents. I had bought them a wizarding history book on my last trip to Hogsmeade. I had wrapped it, and I had even written a letter to accompany it, but I hadn't sent it. A part of me had wanted to wait and see if they would send me anything first, but of course, they hadn't. The letter I'd sent a few days before the end of term had been my version of giving up. I shoved the book to the bottom of my trunk. Maybe I would give it to them in the summer.

Next, I picked up Ron's present. Even though he hadn't told me he wanted them, I knew he did. On both trips to Hogsmeade, he had lingered at the display with a look of longing in his eyes. They were keeper's gloves; very good quality that made it easier to keep hold of the quaffle when it was thrown at odd angles.

Ron had never expressed a desire to try out for the house Quidditch team, but as he preferred the position of keeper, he couldn't have, since the current captain, Oliver Wood, was a keeper. But Wood was a seventh year, which meant next year Gryffindor would need a new keeper. I secretly hoped that Ron would consider trying out and had been hoping that the gloves would have been a nice push in the right direction. As fun as it was to watch the games with him in the stands, I felt it would be even more fun to watch him play the game with Harry.

However, I was angry with Ron, and I really didn't want to talk to him right now. I shoved the gloves into the bottom of my trunk with the book for my parents. He could have them when he apologized, I decided.

Last, I picked up the gift I had intended for Harry. For him, I had purchased a pair of enchanted Quidditch goggles. He could wear them over his glasses, and they would repel rain, block the sunlight, and help him to see clearly in fog. After the last game, I thought they were a good idea. I wasn't angry at Harry, but I couldn't give him his gift right now because he was with Ron. I placed the gift on my side table and decided I would give it to him later, when Ron was busy doing something else.

I turned back to Crookshanks and glanced at the place where the gifts had been piled. It was empty now. I remembered the overflowing piles on Harry and Ron's beds and bit my lip to stop the tears that were threatening to spill onto my cheeks. It wasn't that I was a selfish person and I wanted heaps and heaps of presents. That wasn't it at all. It just would have been nice to know that someone – one person – cared enough to get me something on Christmas.

The rest of the morning was very tense. I was still angry with Ron and had decided not to talk to him until he apologized for kicking Crookshanks. Ron apparently was angry with me for letting Crookshanks into the dormitory, though I could hardly see how that was fair. Crookshanks deserved to celebrate Christmas just like the rest of us, but now he was shut up in my dorm while Scabbers sat peacefully on Ron's shoulder. Harry spent the whole morning staring at his broom despite my earlier warnings, but I didn't say anything because I knew neither of the boys would take me seriously. There was only one person I could go to about this.

I followed the boys down to the Great Hall for the Christmas feast, which was even more awkward than I was anticipating. As there were so few of us left at Hogwarts, the house tables had been removed and one table was prepared in the center of the room. Teachers and students both were meant to eat together. Neither myself nor Harry nor Ron made much attempt to speak through the meal, allowing the teachers to carry the conversation.

When the meal was over, Harry and Ron stood to leave, but I remained behind.

"Professor McGonagall?" I asked quietly once they were out of earshot. "Could I speak with you privately?"