Hey everyone, this chapter is the start of a Nutcracker inspired storyline of Christmas updates. Meaning that this chapter is the start of something more. Depending on interest, I may update sooner, but right now I'm looking for Chapter 2 to be up next Christmas.
- Edit 12/26/17 - Sorry, for some reason FFn removed this header on my initial upload.
In the dark of the night, upon which many magical moments appear and vanish unnoticed, Hogwarts was awash in magical energies and the dreams of those enraptured in blissful slumber. In the main hall, granules of sand slowly drifted down towards the pile forming in the base, running out with a slow and steady pace to welcome Christmas to the castle. Up in the common room of Gryffindor tower, two slumbering lions rested against each other, even as the chimes of midnight began.
The black-haired boy barely shifted as the first resounding chime echoed through the mostly empty halls of Hogwarts, his brunette companion letting a soft grumble as she clutched the wooden Hussar soldier her parents had sent her earlier that day. The old nutcracker had been a gift from her grandparents, who had gotten it from her grandmother's grandparents, and it was rumored to have been passed down that way since her ancestor received it from their Godmother. It was her first Christmas as the caretaker of the Nutcracker, and her parents wanted to ensure that it was in her capable hands.
It had taken all of five seconds to convince herself to show Harry and Ron.
Ron had seemed interested, but after learning it wasn't going to move, and Hermione wouldn't use it to crack nuts, he lost interest and decided to go to bed early. Harry and Hermione however, had talked late into the night about the little things from the Muggle world they missed come Christmas time. Hermione would talk about school plays and pageants, Harry would mention this little old lady that would have him help decorate every year, and always gave him a fruitcake to take to his aunt and uncle.
Eventually the excitement of Christmas was overcome with the physical requirement to sleep, and they had drifted off a few short moments before Midnight settled across the land.
As the second chime resounded throughout the castle, a new figure emerged from the moonlight. Tall and slender, with spindly limbs, the elderly man peered about with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. His eyes fell upon the pair, wrapped in a comforter and flanking the old nutcracker before his hands almost gleefully clapped together rapidly. Strangely enough, despite all his antics, he seemed to make no noise.
At the third chime, his mirth faded and an annoyed pout formed on his lips as he reached out into the air, and made some sort of gesture, the snow drifting outside seeming to slow to a standstill, even as the fourth chime rang out. Yet, this one was longer than the others, drawn out until silence arrived, and then nothing. The low burning fire in the hearth seemed like a sculpture, the snow hung as though on wire, not a thing moved, save the old man, and the two children peacefully sleeping before him.
Once again, the man clapped happily before prancing over with nary a whisper, and leaning over them. Just as his nose came level with them, a wooden saber unsheathed itself and came even with it. Upon the other end, the nutcracker's painted expression shifted from a stoic guardian to that of a determine protector judging the threat of an intruder.
The old man gave a silent laugh before reaching up and pushing the saber down, giving the little soldier a playful wink, and raising his hands in the air to mark his surrender.
As he watched the elderly man back away, the wooden soldier raised his sword in front of his face in a salute before sheathing it on his belt. Looking up at the two he was sandwiched between, the nutcracker stretched his limbs slowly, testing if they were stiff from a long period of rest. His movements were a little stiff and uncoordinated, but he moved with a silent grace as he slipped off of the couch and began moving to the floor and searching the room he'd found himself in.
The sleeping form of his descendant and the companion were giant compared to him, but seemed to fit the room as a whole, and the moment he took his focus off of the old man, he vanished, causing to shake his head in a resigned sigh. He would return soon enough, but something was to happen first.
Listening in the silence of the frozen moment in time, aside from the sound of the sleeping children on the couch, he could hear something. Tick-tick-tick. It was sadly familiar, and he knew what was to happen once again. Drawing his blade again, he found a giant rat sauntering into the room as though he owned the place. The pair met eyes across the room, and the sap in his body ran cold. It was his ancient foe returned again.
The Rat Traitor.
His eyes could see beyond the physical form, and see the evil nested within, and through the creature reared back in fear, he knew that one of the two of them would not see the next chime of the midnight bells. Not giving the rat a chance to flee, he surged forward and charged with his blade raised high. His slash passed through air as the rat leaped away, attempting to flee.
Chasing after the rat, he continued attacking, forcing it towards corners when he could corral the foul creature. A thrust here, nimbly dodge by leaping away. A slash there, deflected by claws into the floor.
The cold rage burning in his core continue building into a icy inferno as the creature refused to honor their ancient feud.
Then the creature lashed out with its tail, cracking it like a whip and foiling his stab. Giving a silent snarl, he pressed forward he ducked under a second whipcrack and slammed his sword into the hindlegs. The snarl turned into a victorious smile as another crack split the air, this of a bone breaking. The rat would not be fleeing from this fight today.
Sadly that seemed to be a bad thing, as the rat loomed up over him and slashed out with its forepaws, sending him flying and crashing to the floor at the foot of the sofa. The noise seemed to have gotten the attention of the two sleeping figures on the couch, rousing them from their late night slumber, just as the fifth chime of midnight sounded.
"Wha?" Harry asked, his wand raised defensively even as he woke, looking around. "Scabbers? What are you doing here?"
Hermione looked around, before gasping in dismay and kneeling down to pick up her heirloom nutcracker. "Oh no! We broke off his arm," she groaned picking up the pieces of the nutcracker, fretting over it worriedly.
"What was that spell? Umm… Repairo?" he asked while doing a wand motion he remember from back when they first met, a wave of magic repairing the nutcracker. A smile blossomed on his face as he looked over his handiwork. "A Christmas Miracle?"
"No, just the magic of friendship, but let's go to our beds properly," Hermione instructed before watching as Harry scooped up Scabbers, and then frowned as she saw the rat favor his leg. "Harry… he's injured, we should probably let Ron know right away."
"Yeah, shame. Not what I'd want to tell him, but I'll do it."
As Hermione walked up towards the girl's dorms, she wondered why she felt a resistance from her nutcracker. A resistance, and a strange sensation of focus on Scabbers until Harry was gone around the stairs to the boy's dorms.
Shaking her head, she continued on her way, going to put the nutcracker in its box in her trunk for the rest of the night.