Standard Disclaimer: I own nothing in regards to Harry Potter or Jujutsu Kaisen. All properties therein are those of their creators. I am only a writer working on my skills with worlds and characters that I love.

Chapter Six - Christmas

For about the first month Hermione hated herself for convincing Harry to train her. He was a relentless taskmaster whether his lessons were strength training, martial arts katas, or even the proper way to meditate and feel the flow of her magic. According to Harry the principles were similar to feeling the flow of cursed energy. (Draco and Daphne usually showed up for this last lesson). She never received the vast influx of power from it that Harry described, but her connection to her own magic grew in leaps and bounds. It was something the boy who lived called the body and mind connection. But by the end of that time she found she could run farther than she ever had before, actually do serious push-ups, and perform magic in seconds that before had taken her minutes of practice and preparation. Say what you will about the craziness of the teaching, but Potter was one hell of a teacher.

By the end of the second month she was used to the pace and exertion and found herself waking up excited for the challenge. She didn't get the same thrill as her friend, but the idea of conquering a new challenge every day was intoxicating.

They had just finished their exercise for the day. Her gasping for air, and Harry barely sweating, when she finally broached a question that had been on her mind for the past few days. "Harry, are you going home over Christmas?"

He nodded. "Yup. Yuki and I haven't seen each other in months and we're looking forward to spending some time together. Letters aren't really great for constant missives with how long owls take to arrive." Plus he really wanted to show off his new troll to his big sister.

{Filthy birds.} Damien hissed from his sleeve. {You were wise to pick one of my kind to be your familiar, master.}

{Be kind, Damien.}

"I still never get used to that." Hermione shook her head. Truly, finding out her best friend spoke parseltongue had come as a shock when she first met him, but in the end it was just one more crazy thing he could do. "W-Well, do you have any plans for the day after Christmas?"

He frowned for a moment before clearing his face and wiping a miniscule few drops of sweat from his brow. "Not really. My sister and I like to give each other presents because it's fun, but we don't exactly celebrate Christmas itself."

"Oh, well, that makes this easier then. You see, my parents have heard a lot about you from my letters, and they wanted to know if you'd consider coming to dinner at my house the day after Christmas?" She squeezed his hand lightly, "They want to meet my best friend."

"I'd be delighted. I live in Germany right now, but I'll ask Professor McGonagall how to use the international floo system she took me on to do my school shopping."

Christmas Evening

Albus Dumbledore was confused. He'd been standing in the shadows of an unused classroom for hours now, the mirror of Erised sitting innocently in front of the door. The entire time he'd been wondering what could possibly be taking so long. He'd been dropping hints to the student body all year about fanciful things throughout the school, and just that morning he'd left the invisibility cloak on the regular mountain of presents for those that stay at the school in the Slytherin common room with Harry's name on it. Though the cloak itself could not be charmed, the wrapping paper was another story. He'd placed a low level compulsion on it to drive the boy to this very room, yet he'd been a no show. Why? This was to be his first chance to actually hold a meaningful conversation with the boy. He'd tried on other occasions but the prideful child always seemed to avoid him. It was almost as if he had a source telling him whenever he was entering a corridor he happened to be in. Harry would no doubt see his parents in the reflection of the mirror and Albus could regale him with stories of what they had been like (And how they'd looked up to him), thus earning back any goodwill that had been lost.

He waited two hours more before deciding to go right to the source. Ghosting through the halls with the benefit of decades of experience he arrived at the Slytherin common room in record time, and there it was. The pile had been diminished by the other remaining students, but that particular package was still sitting on top of the remains. Mocking him. He picked it up and cast a diagnostic to see if anyone had handled it at all, no one had, and ran heatedly from the common room, never noticing the tiny white snake slithering along the floor beneath one of the lounge chairs.

Severus Snape was treating himself to a fine glass of scotch in front of his room's fireplace when the headmaster burst in out of breath. "Where is Harry Potter!" He demanded.

Nonplussed by his interrupted evening, Snape answered, "Gone home for the holidays."

"What? But why?!"

"To be with his family I imagine. Why does any child go home?"

Albus couldn't believe what he was hearing. The Dursleys hated magic in all of its forms. They were supposed to hate young Harry as a result, so why would he willingly go back to them?

The Next Day

Harry steeled himself and walked up the steps to an upper middle class home in the suburbs of London. It seemed Hermione's parents were more successful in the field of dentistry than she had let on.

He'd spent the last several days catching up with Yuki. He'd shown off his new acquisition to her hearty applause, told her about his friends, and when she'd dutifully asked him about his type, he asked her if it was weird to like girls with muscles.

"So you like a baddie that could beat you up, ey? Not bad, kid. You're certainly unique." She'd praised his good taste heartily and then she'd talked about her trip to Japan, and the new kid she'd introduced to the Kyoto jujutsu academy, Aoi Todo.

"I thought you didn't like the academies?" He wanted to know.

"It's not that I don't like them, I just don't have a lot of use for them. It's why I didn't send you to one. Todo though, he'll get a kick out of them."

They'd exchanged gifts on Christmas Eve as was their habit and each was left smiling at the end. She'd given him a silver chain she'd commissioned in Japan with a talisman of protection and a small locket that held a picture of the two of them in front of the Great Wall of China. He quickly added his bank key to it as well (he didn't like letting it out of his sight). He gave the blonde in turn a book on British spirits and magically haunted locations in England that had her practically jumping with interest. The idea of ghosts that weren't powered by malevolent cursed energy was incredibly fascinating to her.

The next morning he awoke to find wrapped gifts from several individuals. McGonagall had sent him a very old looking book about animgus transformations. Hermione had given him a textbook on how the American military did physical training for their special forces. Draco had sent an envelope full of cash. Daphne a handwritten letter wishing him happy holidays. Padma had sent him a beginners tutorial for learning Hindi and a letter saying she'd practice with him when he got back to school. Even Snape had sent him a gift in the form of a sealed envelope. It had contained a few anecdotes about his mother that the boy read through eagerly.

He'd sent gifts of his own as well of course. Draco got the next book in the Mistborn series and a few muggle photographs of the international space station. The blonde had given up arguing how wizards were superior to muggles when he learned they'd actually gone to space, and Harry wanted to drive the message home. Daphne received a gold pocket watch. Padma got a new bracelet. And for Hermione… a four hundred dollar gift card to her favorite book store. (He was making good use of his trust vault. Especially after learning that it refilled itself every month no matter how much he spent.)

Now he was here, ready to meet his friend's parents. He knocked on the door and was met by an auburn haired woman that was the spitting image of what he imagined Hermione would look like when she got older.

"Oh? Hello, dear, I'm Emma, and you must be Harry. Hermione has told us a great deal about you. Why don't you come inside."

Harry nodded politely and followed the woman down a couple of halls to what was clearly a dining room where his best friend and a man that was clearly her father (if his bushy mane of hair was anything to go by) were seated and working on a puzzle at the table. He was quickly introduced to Dan Granger, and was promptly invited to help with the work while they all waited for dinner to finish in the oven.

Now puzzles were never things Harry had spent much time with, but he had to admit there was something inherently calming about them. And working in tandem with others towards a common goal of completion was a novel experience in and of itself.

The entire time Dan was watching the huge smile on his daughter's face and it led to one very uncomfortable conclusion. His little girl had a crush. So when that same girl moved off to the kitchen to help her mother with the turkey, he slid closer to the strangely muscled young man. "So, you're the reason my daughter has been waking up early in the morning to run in the snow and do push-ups?"

Harry laughed easily as he slotted another piece into place. "She's a very good student."

"Yes… but I'll admit to being a bit concerned by this change in her attitude. Hermione has never shown an interest in anything… physical before."

"Yeah, she ran into a spot of trouble with her classmates and bullying. I helped her realize they were messing with her because they were simply jealous of how great she was, and she decided she wanted to be as strong as I saw her. Things just went from there."

In spite of himself, Dan smiled. He'd been prepared to dislike this random boy, or any boy for that matter, that his little girl brought home with her, but a young man that defends her from bullies and aids in discovering inner strength and self worth was alright in his book. He'd just need to keep a close eye on them both, and make sure bedroom doors stayed open when they got older.

In the meantime, he'd enjoy a nice meal and the chance to get to know the boy better.

Malfoy Manor

The Christmas Ball was in full swing in the ancestral home of the Malfoys and everything seemed to be going swell. Important ministry officials were drinking their guilt away, Fudge was pompously proclaiming the greatness of 'his' ministry to any that would listen. Even Pansy was having a good time, giggling in a circle of girls that included the Greengrass sisters and several other prominent purebloods off to the side of the great ballroom.

Above them all, Lucius Malfoy was watching the proceedings from a shadowed balcony with a thin lipped smile. Contrary to popular belief, he hated throwing these ridiculous events. So many people coming into his home and acting like it was their own personal stomping ground. Oh to be sure he knew it was necessary to maintain his image as the pinnacle of society, but still… people should know it without the need for such a reminder. He certainly paid enough of them for such knowledge to be clear at any rate.

Behind him, the slow rustle of new dress robes announced his son's arrival. "Draco."

"Father." The boy stepped up beside him and joined his gaze to the sight before them both. "You sent Dobby for me?"

"Yes." Lucius took a moment to look over his heir and couldn't help the proud smile that adorned his lips. If he was being honest, up to this year his boy had been… a disappointment. He was loud, arrogant, entitled, and possessed a greater approximation of his personal abilities than what was actually there. Now though, he was more quiet, contemplative, and he thought before speaking. Also, his personal skills with a wand were clearly improving if his weekly correspondence with Severus was to be believed. He was curious as to the cause for a long time before that same correspondence revealed the reason for this conversation.

"I'm told you've been spending a lot of time with the Potter boy." he turned the full force of his gaze onto his son. "Explain."

Gulping silently, Draco readied himself and started dispensing the story he and Harry had formulated for their strange friendship. He could hardly admit he no longer believed in blood purity anymore could he? "We met in Diagon Alley where we were both getting our robes sized. We started talking, and when we were both sorted into the same house at Hogwarts we became friends."

"You never mentioned this in your letters."

"That was at Harry's request. He is a very private person and said he'd rather meet you himself and do introductions then instead of being talked about out of context. Also, he doesn't subscribe to our beliefs."

"And yet you have befriended him?" Lucius was surprised to say the least. Up till now Draco had been so set in his ways that he couldn't go twenty minutes without talking about pureblood superiority.

Draco shrugged. "Harry is very persuasive. When he wants something he takes it, and apparently my friendship was one such thing he desired. In his words, he does not believe as I do, but as long as I don't waste time trying to convert him then he doesn't care."

The blond boy looked his father in the eye and said, "He's powerful and influential. I believed a close association with our family through me would be beneficial to us all."

Lucius nodded proudly at his son. Finally, he was thinking like a Malfoy. "Very good, son." He placed a warm hand on his shoulder and turned him back to look down on their guests once more. "Keep thinking like that and all of this will be yours before you know it. And remind me to invite the boy next year. The more he's seen in public with us the better."

Beside him Draco sighed internally with relief. He'd been terrified his father would inquire about Hermione and why he was consorting with a mudblood. That would have been impossible to explain without more time to prepare a good bullshit story.

Once more the boy glanced down at the great opulence before him and for the first time in his life he found himself wondering if this was truly what he wanted for himself. Being rich surely sounded attractive, but all the scheming, backstabbing, and bribing that his father so loved, and had been teaching him was part of his future, was seeming less and less enjoyable the more time he spent with Harry.

Hogwarts

It was a happily chattering group of children that bustled over the threshold of the great school (and one that floated). Each telling stories of their gifts, travels, and experiences. In the instance of Harry's friends, it was stories of Christmas Balls and family dinners.

"I'm sorry for not inviting you to the Malfoy Christmas Ball, Harry." Draco apologized as their group, which as usual included Padma, met at the Slytherin table for a late breakfast.

"It's okay, Draco. I understand the hesitation."

"But my father gave permission to invite you next year." The blond boy consoled as Daphne added in her own stories of what the event was like.

After that Harry and Hermione explained their own Christmas vacations, and as everyone commented on what each other had said, the time apart seemed to fade away, bringing them all back into the healthy habits they'd shared before.

Classes didn't start until the next day, so the group spent the time together, just wandering, talking, and in the case of the non-purebloods, training. But all good things must come to an end, and as evening fell everyone went back to their common rooms. It was there that the boy who lived was reunited with his beloved familiar.

Damien slithered up his pant leg and up to his shoulder where his tongue tickled his master's ear. {Masssster! Do not touch the package in your room!}

Raising an eyebrow Harry replied, taking a personal joy in the way his friend's faces flinched at the action. {Why not?}

{The bearded one did ssssomething to it. I saw him! Then when you didn't take it he came to find you. He sssseemed upset that you were not here.}

{Excellent work, Damien. I'll have a fresh mouse for you this evening.}

{Thank you massster!} The excited serpent slithered back down his collar to wrap himself in his usual place around Harry's wrist.

In the meantime Harry thought about what he'd heard. So, the old goat was playing some sort of game with him? Well let him. A game only really worked with two willing participants and he sure as hell was not willing. As far as he was concerned that package, whatever it was, could stay wrapped in the corner somewhere.

Dumbledore was getting worried. His plans had been perfect, well thought out, and enacted just as envisioned. Yet they had come to nothing. Young Harry had made no moves to seek him out, investigate the third floor corridor, or even explore the castle under his father's old cloak. The blasted child wouldn't even meet his eyes so Albus could see what was going on in his head.

He hated this. Not just his plans falling short, but the necessity of their very existence. James and Lily had been friends, excellent students, and they had trusted him with their child, but here he was actively planning ways to get him killed. It tore at his very soul but he knew it was necessary, no matter how much he wished it weren't. The prophecy had been clear. Only Harry or Voldemort could destroy the other, which meant as long as both of them were alive (and he was certain Voldemort still was) then they were both functionally immortal. And no matter how surprisingly skilled the boy had proven to be (A defeated troll sends a message) he still obviously could stand no chance against a master duelist with decades of experience and magical knowledge like Voldemort. The future of all wizard-kind could not be trusted to one so young. Especially not one with a horcrux in his skull that could at any point turn him dark. So, sadly, the boy had to die so that someone more able could finish the dark lord off for good.

But how to make that happen? None of his cues stuck, the charms on the cloak had not activated, and the only result of his proclamation about the third floor had been a hoard of injured students in the infirmary that had tried to investigate themselves, none of which were named Potter.

With a heavy heart the old man looked down the length of the Slytherin table where Harry was sitting with his group of friends, the rest of the house giving them a wide berth. It was clear what had to be done. "I'm sorry, my boy. Truly I am."