Christmas was approaching fast and Hogwarts was now covered in several feet of snow. The Weasley twins had bewitched snowballs so they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban. They were punished for this, but Elizabeth still thought it was funny and Quirrell deserved it simply for wearing such a ridiculous thing that distracted her every single time she had Defence Against the Dark Arts.
No one could wait for the holidays to start. Elizabeth wasn't a big fan of the holidays, but she just wanted to go home and sleep in her own bed, in her own room, no annoying roommates to deal with. She was looking forward to time away from Hogwarts and all that had happened. No magic allowed was sounding dead pleasant. Things just seemed to be getting progressively worse at school, and she needed a break from it all.
One Potions class, Draco Malfoy had to insult Harry to make himself feel better. Jealous and angry that everyone was impressed by Harry in the Quidditch match, Draco had taken to taunting him about not having a proper family.
"I do feel so sorry," he said, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."
This always bothered Elizabeth more than anything else he said. "You certainly know a lot about not being wanted at home, don't you, Draco?"
Harry and Ron loved it when Elizabeth told Malfoy off. She was always so brutal about it.
"I would say your uncle has more knowledge in that area, wouldn't you agree." Draco was infuriated by Elizabeth's comment.
Elizabeth clenched her fists. "At least his father can stand the sight of him."
Draco's cheeks turned pink and he had clearly reached his breaking point. "At least I have parents, which is more than I can say for you!"
Elizabeth's anger faded. She was simply crushed by his words. Her eyes swelled up with tears and to her surprise, Snape interfered.
"That's enough, Mr. Malfoy," he said.
"But sir," Malfoy tried to argue. "She started it."
"Draco, I'll hex you from here to eternity!" Elizabeth threatened, holding back her tears.
She looked him straight in the eyes and swore for a moment there was a flash of regret that quickly faded into his cold glare. Snape turned his attention to her, but instead of taking five points from Gryffindor, he simply told her to sit down and keep quiet.
"Are you okay, Liz?" Hermione whispered to her.
She wiped her tears on her sleeve. "I'm fine," she lied.
After Potions they headed to the library. They had been searching nonstop for anything about Nicolas Flamel. So far they had come up with nothing, but it was keeping Elizabeth's mind off what had happened earlier that day. They had searched obvious books such as Notable Magical Names of Our Time and [i]Important Modern Magical Discoveries, but came up empty handed. Without knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself in a book, they couldn't limit their search.
Hermione took out a list of subjects and titles she had decided to split with Elizabeth and search, while Ron strode off down a row of books and started pulling them off the shelves at random. Harry had wandered into the Restricted Section of the library and was thrown out by Madam Pince for not having a teachers' permission to look at the books.
When Ron, Hermione, and Elizabeth left the library, they still hadn't found anything to help them.
"Did you find anything?" Harry asked them.
"No, but it didn't help us any that you got kicked out," said Elizabeth.
"All right," said Hermione. "You and Ron keep looking while Elizabeth and I are away."
"You know, it's not too late if you both want to come home with me," Elizabeth offered.
"No thank you," said Ron. "Your gran scares me. Harry and I would rather stay here."
"Please yourselves. I'll check the bookshop for anything on Flamel while I'm there, too."
"And ask your grandfather about him," said Ron. "He might know something."
"Doubt it, but I can ask."
"Well, send me an owl if any of you find anything," said Hermione.
Once Elizabeth was home, she set immediately to searching countless books for any mention of Nicolas Flamel. She had set herself on the settee in the sitting room with a stack of books next to her and began to read.
The sitting room was much different from the parlour. It was the last door down the back hallway, next to the downstairs bathroom, which Margaret had decorated with the Christmas towels already, and across from the formal dining room, which was only used on Christmas and when Margaret had dinner parties.
The wallpaper was a rather dull beige pattern and the settee was a hideous green velvet like material that was itchy to sit on in the summer months when Elizabeth wore shorts. It was where Margaret kept all the large furniture she had taken from Nicholas and Genevieve when they died that she didn't particularly like. She kept it there rather than the parlour because there was a door she could close whenever she felt it too tawdry for her tastes.
"I hope you plan on putting all those books back where you found them when you're done," said Margaret, who was busy dusting off the large wooden centre where they kept the Wizarding Wireless Network.
On either side were bookshelves, filled with nothing but cookery books and a bunch of old photo albums. Margaret really kept no books of interest in the house.
"Yeah, yeah, I'll put them back," said Elizabeth.
"You'd better," Margaret warned and took off toward the kitchen.
A few seconds later, William was clearly heard stumbling out of his bedroom and into the bathroom. He promptly walked right back out and into the kitchen.
"My towels are gone," he said.
Elizabeth peeked out the door and down the hall. He had clearly just woken up because his shirt was on backwards and he had no trousers on. Margaret didn't appreciate it when he would walk around the house in his pants, as it was strictly forbidden, due to moral inappropriateness. Underwear was to be kept underneath one's clothes at all times. That's why it was called underwear, according to Margaret anyway. William failed to see what was so morally improper about the fact he wore pants though and Elizabeth thought her grandmother should have been happy he wore pants at all.
It was also a bad habit of William's to keep terrible sleeping hours. He was up until the crack of dawn and slept until four in the afternoon. He said it was because he was a night owl, which Margaret never found as amusing as he did. Elizabeth thought he happened to get his best work done in the middle of the night. Margaret wasn't around to bother him, the house was dead silent because everyone was sleeping, and he had the freedom to roam the kitchen for whatever he wanted and no one was going to disapprove. It seemed ingenious. Elizabeth had tried adopting this habit herself, but never could continue with it for more than three days. It was a tiring lifestyle she had to admit.
"I put the Christmas towels up," said Margaret.
"Why?"
Elizabeth put her book down and walked to the kitchen, pretending to get a glass of water so she could be hear better when the inevitable argument burst out.
"Because it's Christmas."
William scratched his head. "Just give me my towels back."
Margaret twirled around, a large mixing spoon in her hand. "You will use what's in there!"
William stomped into the laundry room off the kitchen and came back out holding a pile of towels. Margaret swung the spoon at him as he passed. Elizabeth heard the bathroom door slam, then reopen, and the sound of the Christmas towels hitting the floor caused another familiar sound: Margaret's high heels furiously clicking against the hardwood.
"William!"
The front door opened and closed. Thomas entered the kitchen with a stack of wrapped boxes.
"Who are those for?" Elizabeth asked enthusiastically.
"Aunt Catherine and Uncle Oscar."
"You liar, we never get them anything."
Thomas winked at her and carried the boxes upstairs, pulling a ring of keys out of his pocket and unlocking the upstairs storage room. Elizabeth could hear Margaret coming back and quickly ran upstairs with Thomas, following him into the room.
Margaret never allowed Richard or her in the storage room, which is why it was always locked. William said it was where she kept all her junk like the antique lamp from her great-grandmother and William and Nicholas' childhood things. That was surely junk in William's mind, but Margaret felt it needed to be protected from the likes of the children so nothing wound up broken. Elizabeth had figured that's where all of her parent's stuff got packed away into when Margaret cleared their house out after Nicholas' death and imagined it had to be a mess in there.
The room was far less filled than she had previously imagined. There were several boxes neatly stacked against the far wall with black writing on them. One labelled Christmas decorations, another Nicholas' things, and the one on the bottom was at one point labelled William thing's, but things had been crossed out and relabelled Mess, clearly by Margaret when she was angry at him. There were a few dust covered books on a small shelf, a rusty owl's cage beneath it on the floor, and a small bed pushed up against a wall. There were old portraits hanging all around the room, an old wardrobe in the far corner, and a mirror covered by a sheet propped up against a trunk which she could tell used to be William's by the talon sized claw marks on it.
She thought the wardrobe looked out of place. Everything else in the room was old and dusty, but the wardrobe looked well kept. The doors were painted a pastel green with tiny white and pink flowers on it. Faint gold was sparkled throughout the design. She was positive this must have been Margaret's mother's. They had a bunch of her parent's old belongs like Oliver's old smoking chair in the parlour, that was brown leather and it seemed some part of her was always sticking to it whenever she sat there. The rug in the sitting room was also from Margaret's father Oliver, but she never did care for it enough to place it in any of the rooms she frequented, so in the sitting room it lay.
Elizabeth ran her fingers over the design on the doors of the wardrobe. Thomas put the boxes on the top shelf of the closet. Elizabeth touched the brass knobs, designed like flowers. She tried pulling them open, but the doors were stuck. She noticed under the handles was a gold key hole, smaller than a door, but bigger than one would find on a chest or music box.
"Gramps," she said.
"Hmm?"
"Where's the key for this wardrobe?"
"Your uncle has it. Why?"
"Because it's locked."
Thomas laughed. "Of course. It's a few of his things from his schooldays I believe. You know, robes, books, various prank items. Things like that. Margaret told him to just throw them in his trunk, but you know him. He'll keep things where he likes."
Elizabeth examined the lock. She wondered if that's where the key from Claudius fit. She rushed into her room, searching her trunk. When she found what she was looking for she ran back downstairs, nearly knocking over Margaret, who had come from William's bedroom with a pile of dirty clothes. She rushed into William's room to find him throwing things out of his cupboard.
"Do you have the key for that wardrobe upstairs?"
He poked his head out of the closet. "No, I've actually been looking for it myself, why?"
Elizabeth held up the key. "Is this it?"
William raised his eyebrows at her. "I was wondered how he planned to give that back to me."
Elizabeth handed William the key. "He wrote Richard, you know."
"Did he?" William asked, looking over the key.
"He wrote me too, but only after Richard told him to."
William took his glasses off his bedside cabinet and put them on. He held the key up to the light. "I don't think that's true. He gets busy you know."
"Yeah, I know."
"He was just —" William took his glasses off and set them on his desk. "A little backed up is all." William pocketed the key and looked at Elizabeth.
"When are you two going to talk again?"
Elizabeth looked him sternly in the eyes. He gazed back at her, clearly lost on what to say. Just then Margaret's voice rang out.
"Elizabeth! I thought I told you to put these books away when you were done!"
"What books?" William asked, not breaking his staring contest with her.
"Looking for a man named Nicolas Flamel."
"Ask Dad."
"I was going to."
"Good."
"Good."
"Elizabeth!" Margaret cried again.
Elizabeth broke her stare. "I'm coming!" she called, leaving William's room.
She didn't speak to him for the rest of the day. She had planned on not saying anything, until dinner that is. He took his usual seat across from her. As Richard told Margaret all about his year so far and the things he had busted students for as a prefect, Elizabeth was staring at William, or rather his chest. He had worn a button down shirt to dinner, with the top buttons left undone, and there under the fabric of his shirt she could see the key on a chain. She was so mad at herself. She didn't know why she didn't think of it before. The key used to sit on a gold chain, which was visible through the fabric of a button down shirt with the top few buttons left undone, worn, of course, by Claudius. It had all come back to her and she was kicking herself for it.
William Wellington gave important things of his to the people he loved. Most often these items were useless on their own, until paired with something William had, much like Claudius' key and the wardrobe. Margaret had a ring with a blue stone in it that, when placed stone first into a mark in William's desk, popped open a hidden drawer, where they kept all the important documents pertaining to the family. Thomas had a music box on his desk in the parlour that was missing the crank. William had it because inside was kept Genevieve's pearl necklace and her wedding ring, that he said one day they'd give to Elizabeth. Even Richard had something similar from William. It was a silver ring, but not to be worn. It was attached to a trap door under the rug in the sitting room. Elizabeth didn't know what was kept under the floor, as Richard had said he never had to use the silver ring, but she was jealous. She was the only one who did not have a secret with William.
"And how was your year, Elizabeth?" Margaret asked, sipping her soup off her spoon.
"Fine."
"Do you like your classes?"
She shrugged. "I guess."
"And your professors?"
"Professor Snape's a git."
"Always was," William said.
"You," Margaret said to Elizabeth, "Don't say git at the table. And you," she said to William, "don't encourage her."
"Meet any friends?" Thomas chimed in.
"Yeah." Elizabeth kept eating her soup between sentences. "I guess Ron isn't so bad."
"Who?" Margaret asked.
"The Weasley's youngest boy," said Thomas.
"Yeah, there's him," Elizabeth said plainly.
"Tell them about Potter," Richard added.
"What?" Margaret asked.
"She met Harry Potter."
"It's not big deal," Elizabeth said with soup in her mouth. "He's a nice kid. Rather normal I guess."
"Told you, Mum," William said, but Margaret just hushed him.
"You be quiet."
Elizabeth put her spoon in her bowl. "Then there's this real obnoxious girl, Hermione," she said. "Real know-it-all, but she can't be too bright as we had to save her from a mountain troll."
Richard laughed awkwardly and kicked Elizabeth under the table. "Ow!" she exclaimed.
Margaret looked at her curiously. "Mountain troll?"
"Yeah, but that's not the worst. They got this big three headed dog in the third floor corridor and it bit Professor Snape really good. He deserved it though."
Margaret dropped her spoon with a clang. She looked at Thomas with wide eyes. William was clearly amused as he had reclined back in his chair.
Richard broke the silence. A smile had crept on his face and it was evident he thought while she had already gotten herself in trouble, he may as well add to it. "Did I tell you Elizabeth threw Telemachus out a window?"
The next day William was gone, as he often was. Richard was tending shop, organising and dusting. He had to spend the whole day there because Margaret was furious at him for letting Elizabeth run wild at school. Thomas had tried to tell her that it was not Richard's responsibility to watch Elizabeth, but she only said that Nicholas used to watch William and stormed upstairs into her room for the rest of the night. With no one else around, Elizabeth took to following Thomas around the house all day.
"What's that?" she asked as he carried a rather large box up the stairs.
"Not for you," he said, putting it down short of the storage room. He pulled out his keys.
Elizabeth stepped up to it. It was half her height and too big for her to wrap her arms around. "What's in it?"
"Elizabeth," Thomas warned.
He inserted the key in the lock. Elizabeth was at his side now.
"How do you know which key is which?" she asked.
Thomas showed her the key. It was engraved. "Your Gran has them labelled."
"Oh," said Elizabeth. "That's smart."
Thomas swung the door open. He picked up the box and carried it in the room. He tried closing the door with his foot, but Elizabeth pushed it back open and followed him in.
"Are you going to be my little helper today?" he asked, setting the box down.
"No," she said quietly, looking around.
Her eyes stopped on the wardrobe. She casually walked over to it and ran her fingers along the doors again as Thomas rearranged the cupboard to put the box in. She tugged on the knobs and surprisingly the doors pulled open. She jumped back, pushing them shut again. She looked over at Thomas. He peered at her over the top of his glasses.
"What're you doing?" he asked.
"Nothing," she quickly replied.
He lowered his eyes back to the cupboard. She slowly pulled the doors open again, peeking in when she had enough space. It was too dark inside for her to see. She pulled them open slightly more, causing the hinges of the old wardrobe to creak. She poked her head inside.
"Elizabeth," Thomas said, indicating for her to stop.
She whipped her head out. "It's empty!" she cried as she swung the doors open and stood aside for Thomas to see.
He raised his eyebrows at her. She was standing with her feet spread, her hands on her hips, her lips pouting, and her green eyes narrowed. All that fuss over the key and it was empty.
Christmas morning had come around, but she didn't care. She really never had a soft spot for Christmas like most children. They all sat around a medium sized tree in the living room. It was dressed in gold garland and small, shiny ornaments. They didn't believe in using living beings likes fairies as ornaments, as Margaret hated cleaning up after them. Instead, each year, Elizabeth would make her a few new ornaments, usually by bending the silverware into various shapes. She always got mixed reactions from Margaret, because as much as Margaret loved Christmas, she was very fond of her silverware.
"All right, first, William, from your mother and me." Thomas handed William a neatly wrapped box.
He ripped it open in no time, making Margaret's neat and precise wrapping job a total waste of time. "No matter how old I get," said William, "I still hate getting clothes on Christmas."
Margaret smacked his shoulder. "William!"
"Next present!" Thomas eagerly handed Richard a package.
Richard wound up receiving new robes, new quills, and new cage for Telemachus, which was what was inside the large box. Richard had to transport Telemachus to Hogwarts this year in Odysseus' cage, which was much to large for the little owl, so he had been given one to accommodate the owl's size.
William had bought him Gobstones. There was a Gobstones club at Hogwarts that Richard had expressed a slight interest in joining last year. Key word was slight, but with as little as Richard ever said at home, he was lucky he didn't get a generic present like the quills from Margaret. Elizabeth got Richard Exploding Snap to play with his friends in the Ravenclaw common room.
Thomas had received a peculiar looking hat from William. Elizabeth thought it looked silly, but her grandfather seemed to love it. He wore it the rest of the day much to Margaret's disapproval. Richard and her chipped in to buy him a kneazle statue, which Margaret was absolutely appalled by when he put it by the fireplace in the parlour. He was quite emotional about it, even shedding a few tears and telling Margaret it looked just like Pharaoh. He really did miss that animal.
Margaret had gotten new candlestick holders from Thomas that were solid gold, so there was little chance of William cracking them. She had also gotten a new apron from Richard and Elizabeth had made her more ornaments, this time out of the silverware at Hogwarts so she wouldn't get so angry, but instead she got a lecture about not nicking silverware from school. There was simply no pleasing Margaret.
Finally all the presents had been exchanged. Elizabeth had gotten clothes from her grandparents just like William had, but she did get Dr. Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start No-Heat Fireworks from Richard, hidden carefully under a rose coloured dress he had bought her.
Afterwards, Elizabeth was laying on the sofa in the sitting room with her uncle. He was sucking on a Sugar Quill she had given him behind her grandmother's back. Hermione had sent them to Elizabeth as a comment on her tendency to not pay attention in class, but technically William wasn't supposed to have sugar. Margaret never allowed him to. She said he was hyper enough as it is and he didn't need to increase his energy. Elizabeth kind of agreed. Her uncle was very energetic. Margaret never allowed any of them to have sweets though.
"I noticed you specifically haven't given me anything yet." he said, taking the Sugar Quill out of his mouth.
"Check your desk," she said. "Richard and I kind of went kneazle crazy this year. Found the model first and planned on giving it to Gramps, but then Richard found the statue in Knockturn Alley and we thought Gran would let him keep that over the model."
William sat up instantly. "What was Richard doing in Knockturn Alley?"
"Looking for a kneazle. They had none at Magical Menagerie this year."
"Mum would have killed you if you two brought home another kneazle with bladder control issues."
"But Gramps likes kneazles," Elizabeth said, knowing how much her grandfather missed having Pharaoh, even if she was a menace.
"Well, here."
William handed Elizabeth a small silver box with a blue bow on top, but the bow did not come off and the box need not be unwrapped. It simply flipped open. It wasn't much bigger than the box Claudius had sent her and she was certainly hoping it wouldn't be another mystery key. She was disappointed to find absolutely nothing inside when she opened it.
"It's empty," she said annoyed to see it was just like the wardrobe.
William grabbed a chain around his neck and began to pull it out of his jumper. It was long and at the end of it was a shiny silver heart.
"It's a locket," said William, removing it from his neck and placing it around hers. "Real silver and all."
Elizabeth held the heart. It was a little bigger than a walnut and had intricate winding designs etched into it. "Where did you get this?"
"Oh no," said William. "It's one of a kind and you can't take it back."
Elizabeth held the box. "And it goes in here?"
"No, it goes around your neck."
Elizabeth sighed. "When I'm not wearing it, I mean."
William shrugged. "I guess."
Margaret's high heels could be heard clicking and no sooner than it started was she in the doorway of the sitting room with William's new clothes.
"Put these away," she said, holding out the pile. William begrudgingly got up and took them from her, pushing passed her in the door and into his room.
"This is amazing!" he could be heard in his bedroom. He popped back into the sitting room with the model kneazle held in his hand, grinning from ear to ear. He showed it to Margaret. "Look, Mum, it sleeps on its back just like Pharaoh used to."
Margaret glared at William. She clearly had enough kneazles for the day.
A/N: Quotes and plot from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone by J.K. Rowling, chapter Twelve The Mirror of Erised, pages 194 to 195 and 197 to 199.