Chapter twelve: Christmas Came

"I don't what I'll do with myself over the break," Hermione said with a sigh. "I mean, you, Harry, and Neville can just owl each other whenever you want."

She and I were putting our luggage together to go home for the holidays, going by a checklist she made for everyone so we didn't forget anything at either Hogwarts or home. She'd even remembered to list my favorite pajamas.

"That's ridiculous. You can always ring Harry and me, and if I know you, you'll likely be reading up on our next chapters. You'll be ahead of the class before we even know what we're studying. Or you'll have single-handedly figured out who Nicolas Flamel was and have mapped out his life from birth."

She smiled, looking at her trunk and trying to figure out how to fit in an extra book or two. She asked over her shoulder, "And it will be safe to ask your mum about it?"

I was already done, closing my trunk and sitting down as Rosabelle decided to slink over and meow pathetically for attention. "It should be. I doubt she'll know much, but she might. If Harry and I do it right she won't even realize it's something she should be worried about, much less something to mention to anyone who would be suspicious. What about you?"

"Very. Father might have heard about him, you know, through patients or something."

I didn't tell her I knew her parents weren't dentists, and I didn't have to. I would miss her and Neville over the break, and Fred and George who would be staying at the castle getting into mischief. "You should both come over for Christmas. Not on the day of, obviously, but perhaps a small get together?"

"Really?"

"I'm sure Meredith wouldn't mind. I'll ask her about it when we see her, and you'll meet her of course."

She grunted, something strange that vaguely sounded like an affirmative, trying to get her trunk to close. Once she was done, she sat on it and caught her breath. Then looked over at me and asked, in a quiet voice I knew was supposed to be careful, "Do you really still think Professor Snape was trying to help Harry?"

"Absolutely," I told her without hesitation. "And before you say anything, that isn't an automatic answer. I have thought it through, and I have sound reason."

"Then tell them to me," she asked with feeling, "so that I can understand, because where I'm at it doesn't seem quite in his favor."

I'd listed it in my head, trying to find a reason connecting everything, and I counted them off on my fingers as I recited them for her. "Miss Elora explained some of his dislike for Harry, but I cannot see Professor Snape wanting him dead because he hated James Potter. I really can't. Besides, if he was to want him dead, he'd do it in a way some twelve year wouldn't accidentally catch him, because he's brilliant and thinks things through. Miss Elora was sitting right next to him, so she had to know what he was doing and why- which defends his trying to get past Fluffy. Dumbledore trusts him, Miss Elora trusts him, and honestly, I don't think Harry is important enough to him to try killing no matter how much he hates him."

She nodded. "Those are all fair reasons. I'm on your side, I think. I've been thinking about it too, and you're right on the account that he's smarter than that- mean as he is. I'm still unsure, but, I think you might be right. Which begs the question that if it isn't Professor Snape, then who is it?"

"It has to be someone we're overlooking," I groaned, leaning back. "Someone who knows we would suspect Professor Snape."

"That could be anyone."

"Yeah. It could."

Christmas came to Hogwarts suddenly; in terms of towering Christmas trees, glittering icicles, golden bubbles, and horribly tuned carols from Fred and George to get people in the spirit- the two of them in trouble for charming snowballs to follow Professor Quirrell around. Everyone chattered about the upcoming holiday, and before I knew it we had one day before we boarded the train to go back to London. Harry, Neville, and I convinced Hermione to lay off the library for a day to go around the castle, having also been invited to tea by Miss Elora.

We'd been seeing her for tea about once a week on average, never running out of things to talk about or a thirst for her tea. We were tracing the familiar path when Professor Sealocke stepped out of her office. He turned back, not seeing us yet, and held her hand in earnest.

"I thank you, Miss Elora. You've always known just what to say."

She saw us before he did, cutting off whatever he was going to say next with a, "Good afternoon! Are you ready for the holiday?"

He turned to us and pulled away from her, his mind embarrassed at having been overheard even if, unfortunately, his visit had been entirely platonic. He nodded at us, then back at her with a smile and a, "Thank you again, Miss Elora," and then he walked away with seemingly equal amounts of trepidation and confidence.

"Come in, come in. I've just put the tea on."

Miss Elora listened patiently as she poured, our plans for the holiday. Once we were all sitting with tea in front of us I asked, "And what are your plans, Miss Elora?"

She hummed thoughtfully, setting her teacup on its saucer delicately. "I don't really have any. Anyone I would usually spend the holiday with will be here. Besides, someone will need to help Professor McGonagall keep an eye on those Weasley twins. Professor Flitwick is leaving to see his brother. If I leave, I leave my Ravenclaws in care of Professor Snape, and I could never be so cruel to either of them."

"You should come to our house for Christmas," I blurted suddenly. "We're having a small get together, and you could come- maybe bring Professor Snape if you want."

My friends all looked at me sideways with worry at how unlike myself I always was when Miss Elora was there. Miss Elora smiled at me. "I just may take you up on that, but I can't promise anything on Professor Snape's behalf. He's such a grump, you see. The male species are like that sometimes."

"Not me," Harry told her readily.

Hermione flushed red an entire two minutes before she had the courage to ask, "And what about Professor Sealocke?"

Miss Elora had the mixed expression of being amused, and trying to decide exactly how much to say. At last, with a conflicted expression, she said, "He's gone to see... an old family friend."

That night, long after curfew, Fred and George led us out of the Gryffindor Tower and into a deep, unfamiliar part of the castle. The six of us shuffled carelessly, that strange map of theirs telling them there weren't any teachers nearby, whispering and talking excitedly in anticipation of the next day. Fred and George wouldn't tell us where we were going, only that it was something they'd discovered and never seen before.

The corridor-like room we found ourselves in, once it was clear this had been our destination, was dusty and seemed to be used for storage. There were odd shapes everywhere; shadowed, dusty, and hidden underneath sheets or some other cloth. Down in the center was a mirror, glistening and gold, with a sheet on the floor in front of it- presumably having been ripped off by Fred and George.

It didn't look like anything special as Harry moved closer to investigate.

"That's what we thought," Fred told us excitedly, having easily read the expressions on our faces. "But look! Just stand in front of it. You'll see."

I walked over towards the mirror where Harry was frozen in front of it. He was trying to say something, trying to break whatever spell the mirror had placed upon him. When I joined him, the mirror big enough that we were both standing directly in front, I almost didn't understand what I knew he was seeing. It looked normal, with the four of us and the twins in the reflection. Then we were joined by Meredith, Miss Elora, and Professor Snape. I could almost feel the pressure of someone holding my hand and I blushed, quickly turning away to look at Harry.

Fred was explaining, that they hadn't noticed anything. They'd been making faces in the mirror, getting ideas for pranks, and had seen only themselves as they were until Fred grew hungry and saw himself eating a sandwich.

Harry saw his parents.

"I've seen them before," he said at last, quiet. "You've shown them to me from Miss Elora, and Miss Elora had those pictures she gave me, but it's not like-"

It wasn't the same as seeing them stand behind you in the mirror, smiling at you lovingly and proudly. It wasn't the same as when he could almost feel them there.

Hermione and Neville joined us, and we moved so that Harry was where I'd been and Hermione could see into it on the other side of him- finding herself in the Hogwarts library as a professor with George next to her, the knowledge that they'd see the rest of us later. Neville wasn't looking at the mirror. He didn't want to, already knowing what he'd see; two parents looking at him much the same way of Harry's, two parents whom he knew at the moment didn't even remember his name visit to visit.

The corridor-like room had taken on a somber tone, the four of us leaning on each other while lost in separate thoughts- Fred and George standing guard behind us.

"Meredith!"

She was talking with Mrs. Longbottom and two other people I knew to be Hermione's parents, but she stopped when she heard me and turned around with the biggest grin. She opened her arms wide just in time to catch me as I lunged into them, hugging me tightly to her until I almost couldn't breathe. I didn't mind, closing my eyes and inhaling deeply to remember the vanilla smell of her favorite lotion, and something floral that I didn't recognize.

Once she let go, it was Harry's turn and she gave him the same treatment. He hugged her back, burying his face in her shoulder- only barely tall enough to do so.

"Oh, I missed you both so much," she sniffed. "I didn't realize three months would feel like a lifetime. I may just keep you home."

"Meredith," I halfheartedly groaned.

She smiled again with wet eyes and a red nose. "Oh, all right. Hello, Neville."

He waved awkwardly at her, and she landed on Hermione. She put her hand out to shake. "And you must be Hermione. Harry and Lilia have told me so much about you."

"Pleased to meet you," Hermione said smoothly.

"Well, say goodbye for now," Meredith said. "I've biscuits waiting for you when we get home."

"Oh! Meredith, Harry and I were wondering if maybe we could all get together sometime over the break- a small party of sorts- and maybe Miss Elora could come."

She smiled at me and kissed the top of my head. "Oh, is that what this is about? I suppose we could have a small something, if it really means that much to you."

Meredith went to discuss the details and information exchange with the other adults, and the four of us crowded close to go over our plans again. Harry and I were to ask Meredith, Hermione would ask her father, and Neville...

"Gran will know something's up," he said shakily. He'd gone back to the anxious boy we'd met in Diagon Alley, the few minutes we'd been off the train. "But, Da was an Auror. I'm sure there's something in our library."

Hermione was asking him about his library when I caught an unfamiliar face in Meredith's thoughts- not having employed my practiced Occlumency yet. I was familiar with the emotion that came with the face, but startled; as Meredith had only ever felt it towards Harry and I. I wasn't sure I liked it.

I almost asked about it, when Meredith saw and gave me the Look meaning 'Can't you see I'm in a conversation?' It could wait until we got home, but when I brought it up she was reticent to talk about it. Finally she did, holding out the promised plate of chocolate biscuits.

"I have been seeing someone who works with me at the bookshop," she admitted hesitantly. "His name is John, and we've only been out a few times."

"Will we meet him?" Harry asked, dropping crumbs out of his mouth as he did.

Meredith wiped them up and glared softly at him. "I don't know. Right now it's not all that serious."

That was a lie. Yes, they'd only gone out a few times, but Meredith was taken with him- and when she thought back to their dates, he seemed quite smitten with her as well. I sat up straighter, deciding to meet this 'John' and make sure he was worthy.

"You should invite him to the Christmas Party."

"No," she said. "I should not. He has plans for the holiday. Besides, you two are supposed to be telling me about Hogwarts. What is everything you hoped it would be?"

So she sat and listened, drinking her peppermint tea, as we told her about our classes, Quidditch, the troll... which we were surprised to find out she had no knowledge of. I don't know why Harry and I assumed she would know, or that the other person had already told her about it, but she was quite put out to hear of it.

"What was a troll doing in the school?" She asked, her voice sort of shrill while at the same time trying not to be. "Why didn't someone write to me about it? You could have been hurt, or killed!"

I leaned away, realizing the mortal danger I'd just put our teachers in, but when I opened my mouth to calm her down, she ran right over me.

"I'm sure he didn't inform Augusta either, or Hermione's parents. I'm not sure which one makes me angrier; the fact that there was a troll- in a school- where there's children, or the fact that the school seems to think it was of no consequence or event of note. I've half a mind to write that blasted Headmaster of yours and give him a piece of my... mind. We'll nip this right in the rosebud. I'm not going to just send you off to school, not knowing if someone will tell me when something happens."

She stood up abruptly and walked towards Hedwig's perch. Hedwig, who had the intelligence to look panicked. I felt a pit in my stomach and a lump in my chest. "But, we're okay. Isn't it all that matters, that we're not hurt?"

Meredith stopped and turned to me, "No, Lilia, that's not all that matters. If I can't be sure they'll tell me when something like this has happened, I won't be sending either of you back. It's understandable they wouldn't write me about Harry, but you are my responsibility. I'll just write Professor Dumbledore my own letter."

I was very glad we hadn't reached the point in our story where the Quidditch match came up, or that we'd decided to leave out Nicolas Flamel all together- as she sat down and composed a letter to send.

The rest of the night was spent with an awkward air over everything. Harry and I unpacked, looking at the now clean spare room that Meredith had readied for his use. I'd missed Meredith, and now that she was there, I missed Hogwarts and I wished she could go back with us.

I woke up in my own bed, surrounded by my pillows and my comforter, and the smell of breakfast. I opened my eyes, but was slow to get up. I was sure that I'd fallen asleep on the couch with Meredith the night before, but thinking hard, I vaguely remembered her waking me and guiding me back to my room. Deciding I really was awake for the day, I crawled out of my bed- disturbing Rosabelle- and padded out to the breakfast table where I could hear talking.

Dumbledore was sitting in front of a cup of tea at our table, with Meredith standing at the stove; one hand on her waist and the other shaking a spatula at him. They both looked up at me when I entered the room, as though this was a normal occurrence.

"Morning, darling," Meredith smiled tightly at me.

"Good morning, Miss Sterling. I trust you slept well?"

I stared at him. "Are you having breakfast with us?"

He glanced down at his tea. "Looks that way."

"Lilia, go wake Harry, would you? Breakfast is almost done."

I slowly, looking back at them until I couldn't anymore, went to Harry's room. I shook him, but he rolled over with his back to me and mumbled something incoherent, and not something Meredith would have approved of if my guess of what he said was even close. I shook him more.

"Harry, wake up! Dumbledore is in our kitchen!"

"I don't care," he mumbled again- so that's what he said! "Five more minutes."

I groaned and jerked one of his pillows from under him to hit him with. "Meredith. Said. It's. Time. For. Food. Dumbledore!"

Harry, about halfway through, started shielding himself from the pillow and by the end of it seemed more awake. He leaned back on his other pillow and gave me a dirty look, mixed with that face you might have when you've just been rudely woken up; but you're still trying to get your thoughts in order.

"Did you say Dumbledore was here?"

I nodded, surrendering his pillow. "He's staying for breakfast. He's talking to Meredith."

"Well, why is he doing that?" I glared at him until he threw his hands up. "Alright, let's go."

We snuck out slowly, leaving the door open so the adults wouldn't know we were in the hall. We stopped, just out of eyesight, to eavesdrop in every sense of the term. Dumbledore was apologizing, and while Meredith was never one to easily let such things go, she was hesitantly impressed that he was accepting responsibility.

"Truly," he said. "I did not want to worry anyone seeing as the children were unharmed, if understandably shaken from the experience, and I convinced Professor McGonagall and Miss Elora Lavois of the fact as well. Had I not, I assure you they'd have written you. I did not mean it as a deceit. From here on, I will write to you personally should anything like this happen again."

Meredith felt much calmer than she had yesterday, but didn't want to seem as though she were giving in too quickly. She wanted them to know she was what she referred to as 'one of those' parents. "I don't want to be facetiously pacified, Headmaster. I think you'll find that I'm very serious about Harry and Lilia's safety and education."

I'd never heard her sound so imperious, and even Dumbledore seemed to backtrack. "Of course not, madame. I feel absolutely terrible about the whole ordeal, and I mean it very genuinely. I swear to you that I will personally send you a letter, and should it warrant such a thing, organize for you to come to the school in person."

At this point Harry and I entered the room and Dumbledore smiled at us both, Meredith setting things on the table. He greeted Harry the same way he'd greeted me, "Good morning, Mr. Potter. I trust you slept well?"

His mental ocean was roaring as always, and I instinctively reached out to its edges. My heart beat faster, trying to make sure I didn't get caught in it the way I had with Professor Snape's. Eventually, as Meredith sat down, I pulled away and felt motion sick- seasick, I suppose. Dumbledore didn't seem like he'd noticed at all, but somehow I knew he had.

"Why are Occluding?" I asked him before I could help it. "There's no one here who would be able to tell."

He smiled knowingly, looking up from spreading butter on his toast. "You would."

"Are you hiding something?"

Meredith inhaled sharply through her nose, "Lilia! What a thing to ask someone! Professor Dumbledore is your Headmaster, not to mention our guest."

He patted her hand. "It's alright, Madame. Really. And to answer your question, a great many things. Perhaps one day I will tell you some of them."

The rest of the breakfast went quiet, and he didn't stay long after. Once the breakfast was cleaned up, closer to dinner time after a day of settling back in, Harry and I announced we were going to do our homework. Meredith, what a wonderful person, questioned then what sort of teachers gave homework on Christmas.

Harry and I, to be fair, did our homework. Towards the end of it, we tried to appear in distress- flipping through pages in our book and parchments of notes, until Meredith noticed. I cleared my throat and asked the big question.

"Meredith, do you anything about Nicolas Flamel?"

She frowned, a wrinkle of concentration appearing between feathery brows as she stirred stew. "I know I've heard the name, but I can't remember any real specifics. He gave the Ministry a bit of trouble a bit ago, I know. I remember Father talking about it, but- I would skip the question and ask the professor about it when you get back to school."

That was disappointing, but I could see the wheels in her mind turning. She was trying to remember, and it was slowly forming even if she couldn't reach it yet. She asked, "What class is it for?"

"Potions."

"Defense."

Harry and I spoke at the same time and Meredith glanced at us for an explanation, a niggling of superstition until I came up with something. "Well, he's mentioned in both a few times, but we can't find anything in the books."

"Is he in your notes?"

"No," Harry said. "And I think I remember the name, but nothing about him."

Meredith snapped her fingers. "He was an alchemist."

Harry and I spoke at once, "What's an alchemist?"

She bared her teeth in thought, unable to come up with a definition or further information. "You'd have to look it up, now clear the table and go wash up. Supper's ready."

An alchemist, according to Meredith's favorite dictionary, was a person who practices alchemy. Alchemy, also according to Meredith's favorite dictionary, was 'a medieval chemical science and speculative philosophy aiming to achieve the transmutation of the base metals into gold, the discovery of a universal cure for disease, and the discovery of a means of indefinitely prolonging life'.

Neither of us were sure what exactly it meant, aside from the eternal life and immortality bit, but we wrote everything down to show Hermione.

She would know.

Three days before Christmas was when we'd scheduled our party. We'd spent the night before making finger foods; treacle tarts, mince pies, homemade candy canes, etc. We spent the morning getting ready. We'd put up our tree and other such decorations, but Meredith was very new to hosting events and it showed that she was somewhat nervous. She mumbled to herself under her breath as she put her earrings in, wearing shoes even though we were in the house and usually she would skin you alive for shoes on her carpet.

"We could still invite John," I told her, thinking she might relax at the name. And she did, slightly, before getting annoyed at the subject having been brought up again.

"I said no."

"But why?"

"Because I did. I don't have to have a reason. Besides, it's too late and he has family visiting."

"So? He can bring them with him."

"Lilia!"

Hermione and her parents were the first to arrive in their rather nice car, Hermione running to the door with three perfectly wrapped gifts in hand- two she set underneath the tree- before her parents had even unbuckled their belts. She greeted Meredith, stole a mince pie, and the three of us waited with meaningful exchanged glances while Meredith talked to the Grangers. I wanted to tell her immediately, but we were waiting for Neville; who arrived by way of the Floo Network with his Gran a few minutes after Hermione, also bearing three gifts- two for the tree.

While the adults were caught up in their pleasantries, the four of us found it easy to sneak away to my room in order to compare notes. It seemed Harry and I were not the only ones successful- Neville pulling out a book from under his sweater to show us.

"I found it in Da's study. I haven't looked in it, because Gran was coming and I wasn't supposed to be in there in the first place, but it has his name in it."

Wizarding Discoveries of the 14th Century.

"That's impossible," Hermione whispered with furrowed brows, "unless he wrote it, but how could he have been alive- what was it you and Lilia found?"

I handed her the paper we'd written everything down on, as well as idle theories on what he could have done to have given the Ministry trouble- only one or two really likely. She read over it, and had started to flip through pages in the book when there was a clearing of a throat behind us. The four of us jumped and turned to find Meredith leaning against the door jam with an expression that let us know she knew we were up to something. I hoped she'd forget about it by the time everyone left and therefore wouldn't ask.

"You have more guests that have arrived."

We came back into the living room just in time to see Miss Elora place two gifts underneath our tree, one red and one gold, with Professor Dumbledore speaking to the Grangers pleasantly. She brightened at us, wearing long, red velvet robes and her white-blond hair over her shoulder in a loose braid.

"Hello, Lilia, darling. Are you having a wonderful holiday?"

"Yes, Miss Elora. How-how is Professor Snape?"

Miss Elora's smiled widened and she leaned over to whisper, "Unremarkably the same. I'm afraid I was unable to tear him away from his Potions lab. You understand, I'm sure."

I nodded, smiling. I hadn't expected him to come anyway. Meredith overheard, and judging by my letters, though I had to be terribly disappointed. She sympathized with me, and said to Miss Elora, "That's too bad. In one way or another, he's all Harry and Lilia can talk about. I'd hoped to meet him in person."

Miss Elora's smiled tightened. "Yes, but I'm afraid he can be quite antisocial when he wants to be- particularly when people around him are cheerfully the opposite. He's been that way since we were children."

Harry had told Meredith how awful Professor Snape had been to him, and how wonderful he'd been with me, and what Miss Elora said about that. Meredith wanted to write him a letter, though she wasn't sure how to reprimand his treatment of Harry while thanking him for looking after me in the same tone, and Harry was quick to stop her. He pulled every card he could think of, telling her she'd only make it worse, or how awful Malfoy was about tattling to his parents and how he didn't want to be like that. He mentioned his own parents, and how he didn't want it to seem like he thought he was special just because of his scar.

It hadn't been until he mentioned this, and widened his green eyes, that her face softened and she sighed in defeat. "Alright, but if he keeps acting this way towards you I will- and no protests or sympathy tricks from either of you will work. It's perfectly... understandable... to be startled at first by your likeness, but he is an adult. He'd better start behaving himself or I'll write to him as well as Professor Dumbledore about the matter."

Harry had silently vowed not to mention anything else, rationalizing that every teacher had favorites and students they weren't too fond of. In fact, rumor was there was a fifth year that Professor Flitwick particularly detested and sought out every chance to give him detention. No one ever knew why, and both parties were impossible to talk to about the subject.

That night, long after everyone left and the party remnants were cleaned, Harry fell asleep first. He dozed halfway through The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, and my Meredith and I were still holding on tight to consciousness. We lay on the sofa, my head on her lap as she stroked my hair gently. The telly cast strange shadows on the furniture and the lights on the tree reflected back on the screen, cutting off the dog in the movie.

"This is nice," she remarked in a hum.

I'd half thought she'd fallen asleep too. I pushed myself into speech, having somehow missed the past five minutes of the movie. "What is?"

She was deep in thought, I could tell, but I was too tired to pay any attention or to detangle the thoughts in her head. She didn't respond immediately, only answering when I shifting to look up at her. She was staring vaguely at the entertainment center, somewhere under the television. "This. Having Harry here, in his own room and it being the three of us. Not worrying about him being at the Dursleys'."

"I thought it was a spare room?"

"What?" Awareness came back into her eyes and she looked back down at me, as though just now realizing who she was talking to. "Oh, right. Well, I just thought it would be nice if this was Harry's home as well as ours. Do you- how would you feel about that?"

I frowned, blinking to wake my mind up a little more. "Feel about what?"

She moistened her lips, obviously feeling more confident as she went. "How would you feel about this being Harry's home too?"

I yawned, laying my head back down to see the Grinch give Cindy Lou Who a glass of water and pat her head. "Isn't it already?"

"Yes," she whispered as I drifted asleep. "Yes, I suppose it is."

Christmas morning came in a blur after the party, and before I knew it the day had arrived. Harry woke up first, after Meredith, used to having to do so because of Dudley, but it took both of them to wake me up for the occasion. I was a big supporter of getting enough sleep, you see. It wasn't until Meredith promised me hot chocolate and set Rosabelle on me that I got out of bed- immediately awake and ready for Christmas.

The small pile of presents had risen by a few overnight, topped with the most beautifully wrapped gift in red and gold on the very top for Meredith... from John.

Harry and I tried to get her to open it first, quench our curiosity, but she insisted on it being last and told us, "For Heavens' sake, just sit down and open a few."

The two of us sat on the floor next to the tree, and Meredith took her morning tea with her to the couch where she curled up to watch us- Rosabelle in her lap to be petted idly. The first that Harry and I opened were from Hermione; two wonderfully put together study guide calendars. She marked in birthdays, the rest of our homework for the year (I still have no idea how she always managed that), and even everything to do with Quidditch. I hoped very much she liked the book I sent her titled, 'From Muggle to Magical; What's Different and What's Not.'

The twins sent us both a collective box of tricks and pranks from Zonko's- a joke shop in Hogsmeade- with a note saying we were the most like twins of anyone they'd ever met. Neville's gift to Harry was a pair of dragon hide gloves for Quidditch, and I a wonderful set of swan quills. Hagrid sent a wooden, self-whittled flute for Harry to train Hedwig with.

Hagrid sent me, in a similar whittled fashion- if a bit lighter colored wood- four figures resembling myself and my friends. One had Harry's glasses, another Hermione's bushy hair and front teeth, and a third Neville's round face. He'd even put Rosabelle at my feet.

Meredith looked at them closely, remarking at how wonderful he was at it, before urging us to open hers. Harry brightened at the Latin book, translating unkind words into the language, and already he was thinking of how to sneak them passed Professor Sealocke to call Draco a few in class. She gave me a Wizarding camera, and a small scrap-booking kit to start off.

I gave Harry a book on Quidditch loopholes, and helpful rules that are uncommonly known- though I was sure Oliver Wood would know a few if not all of them, I sent Neville a new Herbology book, and Harry and I had done Meredith's together. We'd put a box together of our time at Hogwarts; with Hagrid's rock cakes, our silvery needles made from matchsticks, Miss Elora's tea, and two vials of Pepper-Up from Potions class already graded- one "as perfect as a student had ever achieved", and the other "little more than dishwater".

Meredith's eyes grew glassy, and her nose reddened. She sniffed and gently placed everything back into the box. Then she hugged it to her and closed her eyes tight, her face down towards the box and we could see it. She sat still, until we could partially see her shoulders were shaking. She sniffed some more, and Harry and I stared at each other in terror. Slowly, I tried to see was what on her mind and was bombarded by emotions and a tsunami of thoughts. Quickly I pulled my Occlumency up and shook my head fervently at Harry.

"Meredith," he said carefully, crawling closer to her. "Are you okay?"

She nodded.

"Are you sure?" I asked.

She sniffed one last time and looked up with a watery smile. "Yes, flower. I'm alright. I love this so much. You two- what am I going to do with you?"

Harry shrugged. "I guess you're just going to have to keep us."

She laughed to herself. "Oh. Is that right? Go on, open your last two presents."

Harry opened his first, a long, shimmery piece of fabric that looked vaguely purple. It was a cloak, and I urged him to try it on. When he did, I was looking down at the slip of a card that came with it, but I heard Meredith's sharp gasp. At looking up, there wasn't as much of Harry to see. In fact, I couldn't see anything below his neck!

Meredith was on her feet at once. "No. Absolutely not. If this is that Headmaster of yours' doing, then I forbid it. What is he thinking?! Giving an eleven year old the power to be invisible- in a school where trolls run rampant randomly at that! Who is it from?"

I didn't tell her outright that it was from Miss Elora, but I quickly gave her the card written in her perfect script. She took it harshly, but didn't snatch, and her gray eyes roved over the words. The tension in her shoulders went as she read it aloud.

"Your father left this in my possession before he died, and I feel as though it is time to pass it to you. Take good care of it, and pass it to your own children. It was special to us all."

Harry, having taken the thing off again in surprise of not being able to see his body, looked at it differently. His father had touched this, likely his mum too. This had been theirs. His father and his father's friends had used this together.

Meredith, I could tell even without listening, though I was listening, that she felt somewhat guilty for having made a fuss and went about Dumbledore without having known the circumstance. She cupped one side of Harry's face affectionately and kissed the top of his head.

I looked down at my own present, wrapped in gold, and wondered- if my some miraculous event- it held something from my parents too. I opened it carefully, and found a sleeping figure of a dragon. Sleeping, that is, until I lifted the lid and it woke as though a charm had lifted. The iridescent, white lye colored thing lifted its head and looked right at me.

"These teachers are going to give me gray hair," Meredith muttered.

"Miss Elora's not a teacher," Harry told her.

I couldn't hear any thoughts coming from the tiny dragon, which crawled into my palm and was no bigger than, and I hadn't expected to. However, I did feel its... emotions? I doubted it was a real dragon. It looked like one of the displays Professor Flitwick did to impress our class. But I could feel its... love. Pure unadulterated adoration as it snuggled into my hand.

The card said; This is a miniature Tibetan Jadescale. Not a real dragon, mind you, but a mere shadow of one. I have a fondness for making such little things, and have a Bolivian Sparkbelly myself, and I thought you would love him. He will grow with you, but stay no bigger than the size of your hand. They've been known to sit atop shoulders and nest in hair, so careful as you sleep!

P.S. I'm sure Professor Snape means to send you something as well, but I doubt he'll wrap it or even sign it. He's such a grump, honestly, I'm not sure how he stands himself sometimes.

"He's wonderful," Meredith said in low awe. "Truly, beautiful magic."

The small creature made a quiet sound something like a coo, and a puff of smoke came out of him. Harry crouched next to me, his Cloak slung around his shoulder where we could only see his head and neck. He held out his hand, a finger meant to stroke the dragon's back, and it snapped at him. Meredith startled, and Harry pulled away, but tried again more gently while the dragon watched. And he allowed it.

Harry relaxed and Meredith took the card that came with him to read. "He's so warm."

"Look, his belly is sort of glowing."

"You'll have to research him, and ask Miss Elora what's needed to care for him."

"We owl Hagrid!" Harry exclaimed in excitement.

Meredith was appalled. "On Christmas? No, you can speak with him once you are back at Hogwarts."

I groaned. "But Hagrid won't mind, really."

"Mind or not, it's rude."

Harry and I sulked, until I looked over and grinned. "You still haven't opened your present from John, Meredith."

It was the most beautiful wrapping I'd ever seen, with perfect corners and the loveliest bow. I was rubbish at tying bows. Meredith flushed a pink and internally debated on opening it later and away from our 'prying eyes'. She decided, and rightfully so I might add, that she would never hear the end of it if she did. I only smiled at her.

"Alright," she sighed heavily. "Alright."

There was a brightness to her mind with John in it, sort of like a sunrise. It was golden and almost blinding as she opened the gift carefully and hugged it to her when she finished. It was a journal. Meredith was always running out of journals, writing poems or passages or diary entries and such- and this one was exquisite. The velvet cover was dark blue, Meredith's favorite color, and the pages were edged in gold. It wasn't real gold, of course, but it was obviously an expensive sort of gift. It was strange. Going on Meredith's thoughts of him, I'd have thought he might have bought himself a decent pair of clothes. Everything he wore in her mind was worn out in the elbows or perhaps patched with different colors of different material.

Maybe John wasn't so bad, and perhaps worth meeting. If he gave Meredith half as much joy as it seemed he obviously did, maybe he was worth giving a chance to.

Maybe.

I stayed awake long after everyone else was asleep, long after Rosabelle and Novis were asleep- having become fast friends with the small dragon curled up in the cat's fur. I was tired, my eyes drifting every few minutes until I jerked them open and looked at my pictures of the day again. I'd made use of my new camera, and couldn't wait to take some of Hogwarts to send home.

Just as I was about to jerk my eyes open again, there came a sharp, soft tapping at the window. I straightened and glanced over, a dark shadow on the other side. Novis lifted his little head when I stood up to open it, a small screech coming out in protest.

It was cold outside, the wind blowing in as the owl flew past me to my desk. I'd never seen anything so graceful; long, powerful wings cutting through the air. I closed the window behind it and turned to the great horned owl standing tall and proud, with remarkably intelligent eyes and an outstretched leg for me to take the parcel tied to it.

Miss Elora was right; it wasn't wrapped, and it bore no name, but that was okay. I knew who sent it anyway.

A/N: Okay. I am so proud of how this chapter turned out. Let me know what you think! Also, tell me if you have any ideas, thoughts, theories, or questions. Personally I love getting spoilers, so I never mind telling people about mine.

Reviews make nifflers happy!

Acacia.