"Professor?" The shout rang through the empty rooms and corridors, bringing back memories of a warmer but also less peaceful time. "Professor? Are you there? Or did you turn into an ice cube?"

Minerva put down her book and walked to the Library's entrance. "Mr Weasley? What's all that racket about?" Then, heading down the corridor, she almost bumped into the solid form of not Fred, but George Weasley, who was running round a corner. "Mr Weasley! What are you doing here?"

"Here to see my brother, of course," George said. There was a wide grin on his face and a large brown box under his arm. "I need to speak to him about the business and… other stuff…"

"Ah. Of course." Minerva nodded at him. "I'm not entirely sure where he is right now. Perhaps you would like a cup of tea in my office while we wait for him to show up? You look a little underdressed."

He shivered and drew his coat closer around him. "If your office is in any way warmer than here, I'd love a cup."

"How have you been?" Minerva asked as they walked the corridors. She could imagine the holidays made George's loss even worse. Not only would it no doubt be busy days at the shop, as many people would want a Weasley invention under their Christmas tree, but with all the family reunions the loss would be even more palpable and the twins wouldn't be able to provide their usual distractions.

"I'm good," he said, his smile faltering a little. "I mean, I miss Fred, of course I do. But we both knew the risk when we came here to help. And most days I'm too busy to dwell much on it. People seem even keener on a good laugh these days. I guess it helps them feel like things are back to normal." He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. "And I have many good… friends… That helps too. People who knew Fred, that I can talk to about him. Have a chuckle at his best jokes, you know."

Minerva nodded and suppressed the urge to put a hand on George's shoulder. "He still manages to cheer up the castle. And the other ghosts."

"I do not doubt that," George said, laughing. "So… He's doing well? I mean, I know he's dead but is he… happy?"

"I believe he is," Minerva said. "Last I saw him, he was working on a new prank. And he has taken up the task of counselling the younger ghosts."

"Wow, sounds like he's got his hands full too," George said. "I was hoping he'd have time to have a look at some of our latest products. He helped design a lot of them, so I thought it only fair that he should be in on approving them. Considering that he is still available."

"I'm sure he'll love to help and share some ideas," Minerva said, before mumbling the password to the gargoyle and stepping past it onto the stairs.

"There is… another thing I wanted to ask him," George muttered, looking a bit sheepish.

Minerva gave him an inquiring look.

"Do you remember Angelina… Miss Johnson?" he said, not quite meeting her eyes. "Well, she and Fred used to go out as you may or may not have noticed. She's been pretty broken up about what happened. And since she started working at Quality Quidditch Supplies, she and I have… Well, we started having lunch together. We'd talk about Fred… Trying to cheer each other up, you know. But lately we're not talking about him much. We've begun talking about… us…"

Minerva gave him a small smile before she continued up the stairs. "So you want his blessing."

"Yeah… Sort of," he said with a crooked grin. "Do you think that's silly?"

"No. I can understand you want to talk about it to him," Minerva said as she held the door for him to enter her office. "And I'm sure he will support both of you."

"I sure hope so, Professor," George said. "Thank you. For listening to…" He stopped and gaped at the sight of his brother, who was hanging upside down in the middle of Minerva's office, shouting orders at a giggling Peeves who was attempting to pin a purple paper crown on the portrait of a sleeping Headmaster in gold pyjamas.

"Mr Weasley!" Minerva said, giving George an uneasy look. "I had no idea you were here…"

Laughing, George went over to help Peeves, then turned to see how many portraits they'd already done. "Oh, look at Snape," he said. "Isn't that precious?"

Minerva shook her head, but felt rather relieved that Fred did not seem to have heard their conversation on the stairs.

"George!" Fred exclaimed and righted himself before drifting over to give his brother an enthusiastic high five with the result that he floated right through George's arm and the doorframe.

"Whoops," he said, doubling back. "What are you doing here?"

George held up the box. "Brought the stuff you asked… need to take a look at," he said and winked.

"Brilliant," Fred exclaimed. "Master Peeves," he called and the poltergeist sprang to attention. "We'll be needing you for this. Your… professional opinion."

Minerva raised her eyebrows.

As the brothers and Peeves were turning to leave her office, George turned to Minerva. "Mum's going to kill me if I forget to give you her love. Oh, and… Do you know where Hagrid is? Ron and Harry went to Grawp's place to invite them both for Christmas at the Burrow. But Grawp said he hadn't seen him since the term started. At least… that's what it sounded like... Ginny said he was going there for the extended break."

Minerva frowned. "He's not with Grawp?"

George shook his head. "He wasn't there three days ago, anyway," he said. "I couldn't say if he's gotten there since."

"He did indeed tell me that he would go there," Minerva said thoughtfully. "Perhaps he's home after all…"

The twins did a double shrug. "Tell him to get in touch with the boys when you do see him, okay?" George said and then headed down the stairs. "Where should we take this?" he asked Fred.

Minerva looked around her office, shook her head and started to pluck all the paper crowns from the portraits before the Heads woke up. It made for quite a festive view, but she didn't feel like listening to their complaints for the next three weeks. When she was done, she went over to the window. Hagrid's cabin looked inconspicuous as ever. And yet… Why would Hagrid lie about where he was going, even to Hogwarts' Headmistress? Surely nothing would have happened to him on his way to Grawp?

It was time to clear up the mystery. She'd go down to the cabin and force the door if she had to. Even if Hagrid wasn't there himself, surely there would be some kind of clue as to where he really was.

She had hardly touched the castle doors when an enormous bang sounded behind her and the doors were blown open by the same strong wind that pushed her forward, blowing her hat off. As she held on to the door, trying to regain her balance while the last of the blast passed her, she saw her hat fly between the trees as a black spot, too far away to try and save it. Then, finally, she could turn around and look in the direction of the explosion. The doors to the Great Hall had blown open as well, and behind them, she could see white figures drifting.

'No,' she thought desperately. 'Not more ghosts.'

Then, as she ran into the Great Hall, she discovered that the figures were not entirely transparent. And that two more colourful forms and a much taller ghost had taken cover near the teachers' table.

"What in the world is the meaning of this?" she exclaimed.

George could hardly breathe from laughing, so it was Fred who answered. "We just figured that Hogwarts could do with a bit more… Christmas Spirit…"

"... Spirits…" George managed. "Though… It wasn't supposed to go off just yet…" He held up one hand that was almost completely covered in tiny, shrilly hooting, confetti ghosts.

"It was… intended for Halloween," Fred explained. "To sell at the shop. But we never got around to testing it. So… since the castle was empty anyway, I suggested George bring it here."

Minerva looked around at the white flocks around them, now breaking up into the small ghosts and thus covering an even larger surface, and rolled her eyes. "As long as you realise that you have to tidy it all up…" she said pointedly.

George groaned and Fred laughed.

"You see," George said. "That was why it wasn't supposed to go off before after Filch had returned to the castle."

Unnoticed by the twins, Peeves discreetly drifted away under the tables, whistling silently.

"Yet it did go off," Minerva said, taking out her wand. "And Peeves…" She gave the poltergeist a sharp look. "You'd better help too."

"Oh, Mistress Head…" he protested. "Can't you get the house-elf to do it? I'm sure she'll enjoy it a lot more than the rest of us."

"Winky has her own responsibilities. And you three'd better learn to deal with conseq-" She looked at Fred and stopped. "Tergeo," she muttered, quickly waving her wand.

Yet even with her help, it took them hours to get the Great Hall clean. It turned out that the tiny confetti ghosts were charmed so that they clung to the first object they touched, making it almost impossible to get them loose. The work also got increasingly annoying, as the confetti's hooting became shriller and shriller with time. When she finally declared the Hall tidy enough to stop, it was already dark outside.