The Gryffindor common room was much the same, but those inside were cheery as the Christmas holidays approached. Most students were going home, leaving about a third behind to celebrate at the castle.

Harry wondered what he would do with his time as Hermione told him she was going home. His classes weren't keeping him too busy and some friendly pushes had him getting most work done promptly. Of all the things he could do, getting in some casting practise would be the most helpful for him, but that wasn't something to spend a straight fortnight doing.

With a sigh, he gazed out the window. He was deeply familiar with the sight; it was calming and he liked the view better than any other around the castle or grounds. There were only a few people waiting for friends before going to breakfast and they chattered away about ideas for Christmas presents.

That was another thing on his mind. There was no doubt he would get her a book, but he had no idea which one. It didn't help that he wasn't sure which ones she already had or if there were any that she wanted. All he did know was that it had to be a book she would remember.

'Morning Harry,' she yawned, still a bit drowsy. 'Haven't kept you long, have I?'

He shook his head, standing up with a stretch. They clambered out, leisurely heading for breakfast, Hermione animatedly talking about some of the places her parents had taken her for Christmas over the years. The hall had little life, but plenty of food. After starting, a majestic snowy owl swooped down, stopping in front of the pair of them.

'Oh, isn't he beautiful!'

Harry chuckled as the owl stared at her. 'Hedwig is a girl and she has a bit of a short temper. She's also a bit grumpy since I haven't set her off with any letters yet.'

'Oops, I'm sorry Hedwig, you're a very pretty girl owl,' Hermione quickly said. Hedwig gave her what amounted to a warning glare before relenting and turning to the bacon in Harry's hand.

'Sorry I haven't been up recently, been a bit busy, but I'll have lots of time over Christmas.'

Hermione watched him write it then hold it in front of the owl. 'Erm, are you writing to Hedwig?'

He looked at her, confused, and nodded. 'Why wouldn't I?'

'I just didn't know owls could read.'

'So, they're clever enough to find nearly anyone no matter where they are, and you're surprised that they can read?'

She was left nearly speechless. 'I guess I didn't think about it.'

Harry shook his head and shirked his shoulders. Turning back to his owl, he wrote another note. 'I'll have a few letters to send soon, will that cheer you up?' She eagerly bobbed her head, hopping closer to Harry and getting a few strokes before flying off. 'I don't exactly have anyone to write to, so she doesn't get much of a chance to fly.'

'Poor girl. Are any of those letters for me?'

He tapped his nose. 'Could be.'

'You just said you don't have anyone to write to though, so it must be me.'

'You keep thinking that.'

She scowled. 'Harry James Potter, can you please just tell me?' A glint shone in her eye. 'Oh, I know. It wouldn't happen to be to a certain Hufflepuff, would it?'

'I don't know who you're talking about.'

'So, if I were to suggest you were sending a letter to a Ms Bones over Christmas, I would be completely incorrect?' He nodded, though with a hint of red. 'Is it that you are, in fact, sending her something larger, perhaps chocolates?' He gulped, shaking his head.

'I was going to send Neville, Dean and Seamus a Christmas card.'

She raised an eyebrow. 'Not Mr Weasley?'

'Well, he's staying behind, so it would be a bit pointless to deliver it by owl. Normally he and the twins would go home, but their parents are visiting his older brother in Romania.'

'Another one? They have four sons at Hogwarts and you're telling me there's even more of them?'

He chuckled. 'Bill is the oldest, Ginny is the youngest. That's all of them.'

Her head couldn't get around it. 'I don't know how anyone could cope with seven of them.'

'Apparently she is "quite" strict – even the twins are afraid of making her angry.'

Shouting from the Hufflepuff table stopped Hermione from replying.

'How could you?' screamed an angry Susan.

The other looked ready to cry. 'I didn't!'

'I only told you! If it wasn't you, how did that woman know?'

'Please, Susan, you have to believe me...'

'I don't have to do anything for you any more. Hannah, we are no longer friends.' She turned, stomping out of the hall, leaving Hannah standing with tears.

Harry noticed the looks he was getting from odd groups.

'Wonder what that was about,' Hermione said.

Someone slid a newspaper down the table. He took a look at the first paragraph and thought it would be better if she didn't know, but that wasn't going to happen.

'What kind of rubbish is this? We haven't even held hands and she says we're dating! And the cheek of her making up a date with Susan, no wonder she's upset! Then to say you're taking advantage of us, how dare she?'

Her ranting paused a moment and took in the pink tint Harry had.

'Something in here is true, isn't it?' He didn't respond, but the blush deepened. 'Susan was upset with Hannah...' She dropped to a whisper, weary of those listening in. 'You didn't just give her a galleon after tripping her.'

It wasn't a question, but he nodded anyway. 'We may have both had an ice-cream and talked for a while.'

'Why didn't you tell me? Don't you trust me?'

Harry knew this would take tact to end well. 'I do, but you were already talking about setting up a date. She was the first witch or wizard my age that I met and she seemed nice, there's nothing more to it.'

Her eyes narrowed and she carefully looked him over. 'Nope, there's a lot more to it. You're much too embarrassed over it.' He hesitated before nodding. 'So, what's the problem?'

'I only see her in history and I don't know if she wants to be friends.'

'Well, you never know unless you ask. Now, I'll give you until our first lesson after the holidays, otherwise I'll just have to ask for you.'

He shook his head, chuckling. '"Thanks," this wasn't awkward enough before you helped out.'

She smirked, pushing the paper aside. 'You're welcome. So, what should we do on my last day?'

'Hey girl, ready for a letter to London?' She scoffed at him. 'I only wanted to make sure you've eaten and had a drink since it's a long journey, no need to be snooty.' A gentle nibble was her apology. 'Could you take this letter to Flourish and Blotts, Diagon Alley? They should attach a reply, maybe a book too.' Hedwig bobbed her head. 'That's my girl, have a good flight.'

He slipped the note around her leg, waving goodbye as she happily soared into the sky. With nothing planned, he returned to the quiet common room, most people still enjoying breakfast, and took up his usual seat. Closing his eyes, wand poised and quill ready, he swirled his wand and mouthed the incantation. Opening, he smiled at the feather rising and falling in time with his arm. Mentally going over the exercises in one of the books, he held his arm steady, focusing on keeping his levitation still for as long as he could hold it.

Some people climbed into the room, but he didn't pay them any attention. They, however, did and walked over. A hand blurred across his sight, but he kept his mind on the task. They persisted for a good few minutes, until Harry gently lowered the quill back down.

'Took your time,' said George.

'Thanks for the help with my training, it's way too easy when someone isn't trying to distract you.'

'Not a problem, it's the least we could do.'

'Onto us, we'll be needing a hand tonight.'

They grinned. 'We have an idea for getting past the charms.'

'Brewed up some forgetfulness potion.'

'So we'll be unable to think of something else we have to do.'

Harry couldn't hold in the laugh. 'That may be crazy enough to work.'

'If it isn't crazy, why do it?'

'My thoughts exactly.'

'Anyway, we were thinking of writing a note telling us.'

'But there's a chance we won't see it or bother to read it.'

'That's why we need you to tell us to go there.'

'We would've got Lee to do it.'

'But he's gone home for Christmas.'

'What do you say?'

'If I told you I knew what was there, would you still want to go?'

Fred scowled while George turned around in a sulk. 'It really would have been nice of you to tell us before we went through the effort of making the potion.'

'We wasted precious time arranging pranks to make it.'

'Well, we could always put it to our normal use.'

'Causing mayhem?'

'Is there any other normal use?'

'We don't cause mayhem with our toothbrushes.'

'Yet.'

'What were we talking about?'

They started tapping their feet in a rhythm, deep in thought. 'I was going to tell you there's a giant two headed cat in a room on the third-floor.'

'Are you sure?'

'I think we would have remembered asking about that.'

'Some people aren't blessed with memories like ours, George.'

'But I'm Fred?'

'Are you serious?'

'Hardly ever, but aren't I George?'

Harry tuned them out, turning back to his exercises that had helped make him at least semi-competent on demand. This time, he opted for one to improve his control by shifting where he was levitating from. He raised the quill up in the air, holding it horizontally. Slowly, it tilted one way before tilting the other, rotating back and forth further each time until it was straight up. Carefully, he held it, shifting all his magic to hold it up from a small point, leaving the rest to hang beneath it.

Confident this would be it, he quickly shifted his focus to the other end. It quivered, his magic pulling slightly at the sides to keep it balanced above the point he was lifting. He felt a headache coming, but kept it up while lowering it to the table.

It still needed gentle coaxing to stay upright, but with the weight on the table, he easily managed. Last for the day was what he had been trying to do all week without success. Keeping the quill steady was left to his instincts while he focused on casting an extension to the levitation spell.

Taking a deep breath, he barely withdrew his wand, but to his delight a quiet scratch followed, the nib leaving a small, shaky line on the parchment. It was tiring, but the sense of achievement fuelled him on as he scrawled his first ever handless message, though all the letters were crudely joined.

'Hello-World!'

With the final dot, he released the charm, smiling and sweating. His breathing slowly calmed and all he could think about was how far he had come. He thought back to the article, to the books about him, about the Boy-Who-Lived. He thought it a title awarded for living, something most people managed to do a lot better than himself and for a lot longer too. He thought back to the stint in the infirmary, when he was the Boy-Who-Dived, a title he would much prefer to be called by. Then, he thought back to the present. It was true that all the others were more powerful than him, able to lift heavier things, but he put what little he had to its best and it was a warming thought that even if he couldn't be the best, he could be proud of what he had achieved. Not even the optimistic Flitwick had imagined he would be able to keep up and it made him try that much harder.

Realising he had his eyes closed, he opened them, taking in the world he could have only dreamed of when he was stuck in Privet Drive. Looking back down at the barely legible words, he appended, 'I did it!' and sealed it in an envelope addressed to his best friend - his second ever friend.

Despite the sunshine, it was bitterly cold and he stopped by his trunk, dropping off the letter and taking out a faded jumper that had belonged to his cousin a few years ago, though it was still much too big despite them being the same age. He picked up his favourite quill and some fresh pieces of parchment as well before heading out to the grounds.

It continued to leave him breathless when he stepped out of the castle. Snow was something unfamiliar to him, having only had a few times to experience it when school had coincided with light snowfall and the rest of the time not being allowed to play in it. He knew it was childish, but jumped face first into the thick blanket, sinking into it before waving his arms and legs. Feeling the chill, he stood, admiring his work before casting a weak drying charm followed by a warming one.

He knocked on the massive door. As always, an excited hound bounded out, Harry's sharp reflexes and balance preventing him falling back into the snow. Hagrid was delighted as always, ushering him in and setting the teapot, chattering away about animals that liked the snow and colder weather.

Harry happily listened as Hagrid insisted the vicious sounding creatures were completely harmless. Taking his normal seat close to the window facing the Forbidden Forest, he took out a couple of pages of parchments and started tracing the outline of the landscape he could see. It was an idea that had come to him when he last stopped by, because the sight was perfect for a Christmas card.

He had been tempted to draw it from memory, but it wasn't a difficult trip and he enjoyed the large man's company, so it hadn't been a hard decision to make. An hour slipped by with an accompanying drink and discussion. With one copy done, he could make two others later on. Lunchtime was approaching, so he made a polite exit, promising to come down on Christmas day.

Christmas was only a day away and, for once, he was looking forward to it. He wasn't sure if it was the good food, the good people or the good decorations, but it was difficult to find anyone in the castle who wasn't being merry and festive, not including a certain potions professor.

A glint caught his eye.

Early moonlight trickled through an open window and splashed inside an open doorway. The golden frame sparkled, though the mirror itself was blank, a sheet of grey. He timidly walked in, drawn to it, lighting his wand.

Gazing at the blank reflection, he gasped when his own began to fade into existence, as though fog were clearing. It didn't stop there with two hands forming on his shoulders, their respective bodies sliding into focus. There was no doubt in his mind as to who they were when he caught the woman's brilliant emerald eyes and the man's mop of untamed jet-black hair, both matching his own.

'Mum,' he mouthed, tenderly stroking the glass surface, 'Dad.'

Three other young men gently appeared slightly behind his father. One was slightly taller, with short, brown hair and three rough scars across his face. Another was a little shorter and portly, his ragged mousy hair obscuring his face apart from a pair of pinprick-eyes and a rat-like nose. Lastly, there was one who looked like he could be a pirate with shaggy hair and a trim moustache and beard, all a matching light brown. They all had mischievous grins and Harry couldn't help but think of the trio as uncles.

This time people began to emerge either side of him. The first person was the young boy, Callum, he hadn't seen for years now and luckily didn't look like how Harry had last seen him. Hermione was next, giving that wicked smile she had when teasing him. Fred and George were next, one whistling while twirling a wand, the other holding a broomstick. The rest of the Quidditch team followed, the girls casually throwing the quaffle to each other, Wood smirking with a trophy in hand. Susan finished the group, her auburn hair tied back apart from a few loose strands that hung down, tickling the gentle smile he remembered from Diagon Alley.

He blinked and nearly everyone had changed. His body had gotten taller and filled out a bit, bringing him closer to his father's height. Either side of him with a friendly arm draped, Hermione and Susan had also shot up, Hermione now opting for a ponytail while Susan had her hair freely falling behind her, a flower clip keeping her fringe out of her eyes. The twins were now the tallest, though Wood was close.

Another blink. He had a good bit of height on the two girls now, though still had a bit more to go until he caught up with his father. The Quidditch team looked slightly cloudy, but were still recognisable.

Another blink. He finally had a bit of height on his father and some stubble too. Rather than having an arm over both girls, it was just Susan this time and they leant into each other. An outline of a person was beside Hermione and they held hands. Other people shaped blurs took up the foreground, covering most of Wood and Alicia. Katie now stood next to George and Angelina beside Fred, each pair kissing. Neville had also crept into the picture, his chubby figure replaced with a much sturdier one as he proudly stood next to one of the blurs.

He closed his eyes for a longer moment, wondering what was next.

Three children crowded around Susan and him, an older boy and twin girls. Beside him, Hermione had a bulging belly with her husband's hand resting on it and a little girl in her arms. Some of the other outlines of people had left, the remaining ones now looking like people. Neville was holding a toddler, his wife a baby. Fred and Angelina had a daughter, while George and Katie had a son, the pair of youngsters inheriting their fathers' grins.

His parents continued to stand behind him, each resting a reassuring hand on his shoulder, proudly smiling.

He blinked again. Hermione was no longer pregnant, a son and daughter standing in front of their parents. Neville's children had also grown into two boys standing protectively either side of a younger sister. Another son stood in front of Susan and him, the two sisters seemingly pulling him apart while his older brother watched on with amusement. Another blink and nothing changed.

Harry didn't have to think to know what he was seeing. Taking a blank sheet from his pocket, he sat cross-legged and lost himself in copying the image, going into painstakingly precise details and they all stood perfectly still for it. He wasn't sure how long it took, but eventually finished the drawing. As a final touch, he titled it "My Heart's Desire" before carefully folding it up and slipping it into his old school shirt's pocket.

Thinking it time to go, he struggled up, unsteady on pained legs. He was greeted by the crowd waving at him, warm smiles from all. Taking some time to get his legs back to normal, he wobbled over a bit and took a final look at the mirror and was unprepared for what he saw.

Callum and himself, aged about seven, were fiercely striking at each other with pieces of bamboo nearly as tall as themselves. He knew it wasn't a memory, but it was familiar nonetheless. He chuckled when his image-self fell over a rock, Callum making a point poked his face before offering a hand up, only to be pulled down himself. Too slow getting back up, Callum got himself prodded back before the play fight resumed, though with such rigour it was hard to tell they weren't trying to injure each other.

Some movement at the bottom caught his attention, dragging him to a group of adults watching, clapping and cheering them on. His parents made up half the group and the other half were who he assumed were Callum's parents. Slightly below them, two cakes, one chocolate and one a Victoria sponge, sat on a table with lit candles, seven per cake.

He smiled, watching the movie-like reflection fade until it looked like it was just an ordinary mirror, showing himself standing in the room, only now Hermione was beside him, flicking through a book on charms, looking as she had before leaving.

Finally, it faded back to the grey it had initially been. Turning to leave, he found himself standing in front of the headmaster.

'Good evening Mr Potter, I trust you are well?'

'Yes, sir. How are you?'

The elderly man smiled and Harry caught his twinkling eyes. 'Have you come here before, to see the Mirror or Erised?'

Harry felt a headache coming on, but ignored it. 'No, sir.'

'Please, you need not lie. It is not against the rules to investigate the castle unless the area has been stated as out-of-bounds. In those cases, we will usually apply charms to keep those who should not be there away, but they are not a problem for those with the right knowledge or protection.'

'Honestly, sir, this is the first time I've seen it.'

The pressure in his head lifted, Dumbledore turning towards the mirror. 'I see.' He took a stride towards it, sadly looking upon it. 'As you no doubt noticed, it is not a normal mirror. If you were to guess, what do you think it shows a person?'

'Their true desire.'

Dumbledore chuckled. 'Yes, I would say that describes it nicely. If I may, what did you see when you gazed into your soul?'

'I saw what makes me happy.'

'Will you not indulge an old man's interest?'

He thought it over, but kept coming back to a single point. 'Hagrid told me you're my magical guardian. My parents must have had close friends who could look after me, so couldn't I live with them rather than the Dursley's?'

'Are you not aware of the circumstances surrounding the untimely death of Lily and James?'

'Their secret keeper and good friend betrayed them to the Dark Lord, killing another one of their friends before being sentenced to Azkaban.'

He nodded. 'When one of the people closest to you betrays your trust, how are you to know none others would do as they did?'

'I don't like that.'

An eyebrow raised. 'Oh? Why is that?'

'It's lonely without friends.'

'That it is, my boy, that it is.'

Harry waited for more, but it didn't come. 'So, why can't I live with some of my parents' friends?'

'On that fateful night, when the killing curse struck you and rebounded back upon Voldemort, you became the target of all his loyal followers. The powerful wards at your relatives' home are of great importance to your protection.'

'If they want to kill me, because his death was related to me, how did they find out? Did other people come with him?'

Dumbledore cleared his throat. 'No, he was by himself. When Hagrid collected you from the ruins of your house, your parents' traitorous friend attempted to take you, however Hagrid stood strong and held onto you. In order to prevent the Death Eaters from gaining the upper hand, we informed the newspapers of what had undoubtedly transpired.'

'So I have to be protected, because you told the world I killed the Dark Lord?'

He looked a little uncomfortable, his normally grandfatherly face becoming more serious. 'In order to ensure the hasty closing of the war that tore our nation apart. By making Voldemort's followers aware of his downfall, it led to them giving up their campaigns of terror.'

'Couldn't you have done that without telling them it was me?'

'Are you suggesting I should have lied to the honourable British and international wizarding communities?'

Harry knew he was getting no where and certainly no closer to where he wanted to get. 'How do you think I survived the killing curse?'

'Ah, a good question many have spent years discussing.' His features softened, a hint of a smile returning. 'Your mother, in her time here, was a good student, always studying hard and pushing her limits, doing as she was told. One of her favourite areas in her later years, where I often offered advice and suggestions, was in protective blood magic. It is my personal belief that she sacrificed her life to offer you protection from Voldemort.'

'So then it was really her who killed him, not me?'

The ghost of a smile vanished again. 'It was you who the curse rebounded off of, not your mother. His own curse struck him down, because he cast it on you. He fell from this earth due to you.'

'Anyone could have done what I did though. What she did was special, she should be remembered for it, not me.'

'Don't you see, Harry? You're the hero the wizarding world worships, the Boy-Who-Lived, the only person known to ever survive the dreaded killing curse. I can think of nothing more special than defying death, especially at such a young age.'

Thinking, Harry could reply, but it seemed that no matter what he said, Dumbledore would bring it around in a circle, taking them right back to where they started. 'Could you not put up wards somewhere else? After all this time, haven't all the Death Eaters been caught?'

'I am afraid that the wards upon your home are strong blood wards. They recharge when you spend time there and are the strongest known to the world, even more so than those at Hogwarts. Anywhere else would struggle to offer even a fraction of the safety that comes with your home.'

'Why am I safe here then?'

'It is because I am here, dear boy. Even if they were to get past the wards, a foe would be hard pressed to overcome my unparalleled skill and magical strength. After all, I did vanquish Grindelwald and successfully held back Voldemort for many years.'

A few ideas floated through. 'Couldn't I live with another strong wizard? They could always take me to safety if an attack happened.'

'Harry, do you not know what you are asking of me? You are asking me gamble your life, something I would never do. Do believe me when I say I have your best interests at heart and truly want you to be as happy as you can be, but life is based on compromises and I would never dare risk you dying an agonising death at the hands of those who wish you most severe harm.'

He hated it, but wrote it down to finish this quickly. 'Thank you, headmaster, for doing what is best for me.'

The kindly appearance returned, complete with that smile. 'I am glad you understand. Life flows so much smoother when everyone does their part for the greater good, don't you think?'

'Yes sir. If it's okay, could I go to bed?'

'Of course, of course. Hurry now Harry, curfew is fast approaching and we wouldn't want you to be exploring when you should not be.'

Presents sat at the end of his bed and he couldn't help but grin. Harry sat up, reaching over to pick up the first one which was the size of a small book and addressed from Hermione. It was perfectly wrapped with only a hint of Sellotape. Pulling it apart, he was greeted by a small notebook accompanied by a fountain pen. Opening it, a message was written on the first page.

'Merry Christmas Harry! I hope you enjoy your present, you always looked uncomfortable writing on those loose bits of parchment on your hand, so my parents suggested a nice notebook. The pen was my idea – the quills annoy me a lot and I can't even imagine how much worse it must be for you. I stopped by Flourish& Blotts before leaving and they even charmed it to last longer (they didn't want to say how, but I think they applied a shrinking charm to a large cartridge). Anyway, I know I ramble a bit, so, hope you have a good Christmas and I'm looking forward to coming back.

'L Hermione'

He picked up the pen, finding it much more comfortable than the awkward quills he had gotten used to. Turning onto the next page, he wrote out a thank-you reply, being careful to use his best handwriting.

The next one was a book on transfiguration from McGonagall with his father's name on the contents page and little observations or tips on various pages. Her note told him it was the one he had used in his second year before losing it and was recently found in a disused classroom.

Hagrid's was an animated picture. A baby, who he assumed was himself, was held by Hagrid, his parents standing either side. The three of them were smiling, Lily occasionally turning to the baby and tickling its stomach, James nearly getting knocked over when Hagrid would clap him on the back. It was set in front of Hagrid's hut on a snowy day.

His final one turned out to not be a gift and was instead just a message.

'I have a matter that needs to be discussed. See me in my classroom at eight this evening. Do not be late. If asked, it is a detention for an unsatisfactory assignment. Professor Snape.'

'Merry Christmas 'Arry! Come in, come in, I'll put tha kettle on.'

The usually plain hut had been decorated since his last visit, with a cramped pine tree pushing against the roof at one side, laden with coloured fruits attached via s-shaped fish hooks. Rather than the leather-like colour, the seats alternated between crimson with a gold trim and lime with a silver trim. Finally, there were lengths of what looked like poisonous and venomous snakes, given their vibrant colouring, hanging across the walls.

Harry thought it was unusual, but oddly fitting. A massive mug of steaming tea was soon in his hand and a plate of peculiarly shaped biscuits on the table.

'So, how did ye like the picture? Minerva took it on yer first Christmas when yer parents stopped by the school.'

'It was perfect, I've never even seen a photo of them before.'

'Is that so?' His cheery mood drooped a bit. 'I'll tell ye what, for yer birthday, I'll talk to some of their friends and see what I can get. Didn't yer aunty have any, even of jus' yer mum?'

His head shook. 'She doesn't like my mum, I think it's because she was a witch.'

'Well, I'm sure all their old friends will 'ave plenty; shouldn't be a problem at all.'

'Thanks, I can't wait.'

Author Notes

What does Snape want to talk about? Will Hermione like her present? Does James' book have anything of interest? Why won't Dumbledore be straight with Harry? Would Hedwig prefer a juicy mouse or a slice of succulent bacon?

I've switched to using lines rather than triples enters for changes of scene, hopefully making it obvious. On another hope, I hope the section focused on Harry and his thoughts made a nice change from the otherwise conversation driven story so far. I thought it was about time to help firmly establish his feelings on some areas and open him up a bit. Onto the mirror, I thought it more fitting for it to show Harry what he truly wants (future, past and present): a happy life surrounded by close friends and family, those he loves. I will also say that this mirror isn't omniscient and any future it shows is subject to speculation based on Harry's current memories, thoughts and feelings. As for Dumbles, I tried to make him convincing, but it was difficult with Harry set on getting an answer to the one question that has plagued his life. So, it's another hope that I haven't made him talk like an idiot and instead it's Harry's pinpointed questioning that raises doubts.

As for the next chapter: (what I think will be) a controversial discussion with Snape; the formal addition of Susan to the story; development of Hermione and her family; and, of course, the twins' planned prank.

Slight edit: I always think the bookstore at the alley is Florence rather than Flourish, along with my misuse of passed instead of past a couple of times, including previous chapters.