Chapter Seven

A/N: I STILL OWN NOTHING!

Simba was now playing a game of hide and seek with Harry, determined to avoid his brother just as his brother had avoided him. Everyone had grown festive for some reason; even Harry had gotten into the spirit.

"Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas, ring the Hogwarts bell!" the twins sang as Simba walked up from the Forest.

"You two realize that you can't sing right?" he asked, shaking his head.

"Yeah!" the twins nodded. "We're just getting into the mood to charm snowballs to bounce off of Quirrel's turban. Want to come?"

"I'll pass," the cub chuckled and watched as the twins left. Simba ventured into the Great Hall and watched the teachers decorate.

"That's totally barbaric!" he heard Hermione exclaim.

"That's Wizards chess," Ron told her. "Hey, Simba!"

Darn you Ronald! Simba thought as now he had no choice but to walk over there.

"Hey Ron, Hermione!" he said, completely ignoring Harry. "See you've packed Hermione."

"I see Ron hasn't," Hermione noted.

"Change of plans. My parents have decided to go to Romania, to visit my brother Charlie," Ron said. "He's studying Dragons there."

"Good," Hermione smiled. "You can help Harry then. He's going to go to the library, to look up information on Nicholas Flamel."

"We've looked a hundred times!" Ron moaned and Simba mentally groaned. His brother was worse than a newborn cub with his curiosity.

"Not in the restricted section," Hermione whispered. "Merry Christmas."

Simba blinked as she walked away and decided to follow her. Granted, he managed to lose her after about five minutes. Seeing an open door, Simba slipped inside the room. There was a mirror there; apparently the room was being used for storage.

"Whoa!" he whispered. In the mirror, he could see not only his reflection but the images of his mother and father as well.

"You promised," Simba whispered to the image of his father. "You promised you'd always be there for me."

Hearing a creak in the door behind him, Simba bolted out the other door. Briefly wondering why there were two doors in that room, Simba shook his head and decided that he didn't care. That night, Simba's nightmares returned with a vengeance.

Mufassa fell off the side of the cliff, screaming. Simba looked on in horror, but then his father spoke to him.

"Simba, what have you done?" his father asked. "I'm dead because of you."

"No!" Simba shook his head. "No, it was an accident! Uncle Scar said so!"

"Your uncle is a kind lion but it does no good to cloud the mind with lies," the ghost of his father said. "It was your fault!"

Simba bolted right in bed, panting a little. He looked over and saw that both Ron and Harry's beds were empty.

"Merry Christmas, Simba," Harry smiled at his brother. "Your gift is under the tree."

Ron tossed Simba a gift as well. "My mum makes gifts for us, and this year my sister wanted to help her out. She made a scarf for you."

"You told her about me?" Simba asked.

"Ginny loves animals, and can keep a secret," Ron said. "Besides, don't want her to freak out when she comes here next year and sees you."

The scarf was a brown fabric with a strip of tan color in the middle. Ron must have written more than just the fact that there was a lion at Hogwarts.

"Thanks Ron!" Simba said and put the scarf on. It was comfy. Harry had also gotten something, a sweater.

"Come on, open mine!" Harry said and Simba forgot all about being annoyed with his brother. Harry's gift was a plethora of grubs.

"Wow, thanks Harry!" Simba grinned. Ron made a slight grimace from behind and then gasped as Harry opened his last present.

"That's a cloak," Ron said. "A really fancy one as well."

Harry read the note aloud. "Your father left this in my possession before he died. It was time it was returned to you. Use it well."

"Well, put it on!" Ron urged. Harry put on the Cloak and gasped as his body disappeared.

"My body's gone!"

Simba rolled his eyes. No duh, Sherlock!

"I know what that is!" Ron exclaimed. "That's an invisibility cloak."

Getting bored with the conversation, Simba left the Common room and went searching for that mirror that showed his father. He did so for two nights after that; hoping that simply seeing his father again would be enough.

"Back again, Simba?" a voice asked from behind.