I cracked my eyes open. "Who dares wake me?" I asked crankily.

"Me, dummy, it's Christmas!" I bolted off my bed.

"CHRISTMAS?! I…I didn't get you anything." I turned red. To tell the truth, I had forgotten about the feast the night before. It had been fun. There had been lots of dancing and butterbeer, and I had probably made a fool of myself in front of one or more teachers.

"It's okay…" Harvest blushed. "I didn't get you anything either."

"We can be no present friends," I said, trying to make Harvest feel better. It had been five days since my stint with the memory potion, and I had been grumpy the whole time. Christmas was a good time to start over.

I had received a whoopee cushion from Fred and George, obviously a reference to our first meeting. The Malfoys had given me a cache of galleons, one hollow with a small hastily scrawled note inside:

You're doing well so far, just don't make any more mistakes like the Weasleys.

I immedietly knew who it was from: Lucius Malfoy. Only one person would call the Weasleys mistakes. But if he found about Harvest, it was on the streets for me!

A small black envelope sat on my bedside table, with Open in private written on the front in neatly slanted handwriting that I recognized from my admissions letter as Professor Dumbledore's. I hid it from Harvest under my pillow. I had a feeling about who it was from.

When Harvest went off to breakfast, I told her I had to put my shoes on and that she should go without me. Once I was absolutely sure that she was gone, I tore the envelope open. It read:

Dear Isla,

I can't write much, as the dementors will see me, but I wanted to wish you a merry Christmas.

It may be hard being at Hogwarts with a large secret like yours, and I'm sorry that my mistakes make you at risk, but I still love you.

Sirius Black

P.S. There's a small souvenir in the envelope as well as this letter. It's made out of jarvey teeth. There are millions of them running around Askaban, and I thought I may as well make use of them.

I dug my hand into the back of the envelope, wondering what he meant by souvenir. A necklace sat inside, made out of black cord and small white teeth. I fastened it around my neck and looked in the mirror. No, I couldn't cry.

Christmas dinner was fine, pudding and all. Professor Dumbledore's sharp eyes caught my necklace, and he winked conspiratorially at me. I smiled back. A returning wink would have just made me cry.

Sorry that the chapters have been so short! Hope you like the story so far, and please leave reviews.

-docmuse