'Ello, mates! I'm back with Chappie Numero Trece! I've been unable to update for almost five months now because of lack of reliable source of book, summer camps, and school work, in that order. To make it up to you guys (or girls), I've written a 12 paged chappie for you!

Disclaimer: Anything concerning the original Harry Potter series goes to Joanne Kathleen Rowling©.

Anything concerning Mary and her belongings goes to me, Annabelle4.0©.

Anything concerning Demi and her belongings goes to my friend, whom I'm going to call Bob for security reasons©.

Anything concerning the songs that may or may not be added in here goes to the awesome artists that made the songs©.

Anything concerning The Chronicles of Narnia series goes to CS Lewis©.

Onwards! Oh, and by the way, Happy Halloween!

Chapter 13

December 21st, 1991

The freezing winds and snowfalls of winter had traded off with autumns' warm colors and one day, the castle and its' residents found itself blanketed in snow one morning. Christmas holiday cheer was being celebrated early by the Weasley twins turning the entire castles' interior walls red and green, bedecked with wreaths of holly on every single door ever known to Hogwarts staff and students alike. The lake froze solid, prompting several Muggle-Borns to go ice-skating and the like.

Everyone couldn't wait for the holidays to arrive, even though the fires in the common rooms and the Great Hall did nothing to warm the freezing classrooms. The coldest class by far was the Potions class, where everybody tried to stay close to their steaming cauldrons as they possibly could. The class was also warmed by the heated words that Malfoy spoke with a new passion of hate towards me and my twin.

"I do feel so sorry," said Draco Malfoy during one Potions class, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

He had been glancing in Harry's direction when this short speech was delivered. Harry promptly pretended to be deeply concentrated on measuring out the powdered spine of a lionfish. The reason Malfoy has been throwing all these insults at Harry is because he's still sore over the fact that Gryffindor had beat Slytherin. At first, he tried to make jokes that favored Slytherin out of it, but stopped the second he got another "present" made possible by Stuart and Hedwig combined in the morning mail. After that, he went back to ranting about how we have no proper "family."

When Professor McGonagall came around with the list of people staying behind for Christmas, we both signed up immediately, knowing that if we went back to Privet Drive, this year's Christmas would've been more horrible than the past ones. We weren't the only ones that had signed up, however. The Weasleys would be staying at Hogwarts this year because it turned out that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley will be visiting Charlie in Romania that Christmas.

After Potions class, I hurried as fast as I could to the Gryffindor girls' dormitory to work on Christmas gifts. I was almost finished with Dudley's hand-embroidered quilt pattern, although I doubt that he would actually use it out of fear that I've cursed it one way or another. After that, I had left to do was Percy's glasses case. During the past weeks, while Hermione, Harry, and Ron were spending their free time in the library looking up Nicholas Flamel, I was making hand-made gifts for the Dursleys, the said people currently in the library, Hagrid, the Weasley twins, the other girls in my dormitory, and Professor Dumbledore.

In my haste, I bumped into Draco Malfoy himself. For some odd reason, Crabbe and Goyle weren't body-guarding him. For a moment, we looked each other in the face. In that moment, I saw something hidden in him. Something good that got covered up the moment he said rather gruffly, "Get out of the way, Potter. You're in my space bubble."

I felt an anger rise up within me that I tried to smother. Although he had no right whatsoever to talk to another being like that, now is not the time to get all hot-headed.

"If I'm in your space bubble," I spoke up, trying to put more calmness in my voice, "then wouldn't Crabbe and Goyle be in your space bubble? Speaking of which, where are they?"

"Shut up, Pothead," he growled. "Just because you don't have a proper family doesn't give you any right to talk smart to me."

That's when I lost it.

"Fine then!" I snapped at him. "Go ahead and be a hypocrite. Make your mummy and daddy proud that their vain, foolish son was telling the Girl Who Lived with No Parents to not talk smart-ass when he should be watching what he's saying."

I smacked his cheek, walked around him, and didn't look back to see the confused expression he wore with his new black bruise. I know that I probably would've gotten a detention for use of profanity and physical violence, but at that moment, it didn't matter compared to the pain inside me and the bitter tears forming in my emerald eyes.

"Mary! Wait!" I heard him call, but I ignored it and kept walking, attracting stares from other people in the hallway.

December 25th, 1991

I see a red-haired women fling her arms in front of the crib and try to bargain a pale man with a snake-like face so then Harry and I could live. He laughs mercilessly as he casts a spell that makes her drop like a puppet with no strings and the air become a sinuous green color for a minute. He saunters over towards us. Harry looks up at him, thinking that it's all a trick, while I figure out the answer whether or not our parents are still alive and give the man a look of contempt. He points a stick at us, looking giddy and mad at the same time, and casts the same spell that caused the green flash.

I woke up to the feeling of being shaken awake.

"Just one more minute," I mutter and know that it was super-hyper Lavenderthat woke me up from the memory without rolling over by the smell of lavender perfume she was always wearing.

"But it ishe squealed.y!"rom the memory without rolling over by the smell of lavender perfume she was always'the green .s Christmas Day!" she squealed, reminding me faintly of Dudley. I just rolled over to my other side, regretting spending last night finishing up an assignment that was due the day the holidays were over and everyone comes back to Hogwarts.

"So what," I grunted. "I probably don't have any gifts."

"But you do! It's right next to your bed, silly!"

I bolted up and looked over to my right. Never before had I actually gotten Christmas gifts, and yet a small pile of brightly wrapped presents were sitting right next to the four-poster bed.

"Oh, and by the way," Lavender said excitedly, "thanks for the knitted washcloth!"

"You're welcome," I responded. "Also, could you give me several minutes of peace? I appreciate the wake-up call, but I'm really tired at the moment and some time alone would be nice." I had finally taken notice that Lavender and I were the only ones left in the room. Lavender nodded and skipped out of the room, leaving behind a trail of destroyed wrapping paper.

I fell backwards onto the bed, replaying the dream I had last night over and over again. I reckon that the lady was mum and the maniac must've been Voldemart. Question is how come up until the day I smacked Malfoy have I been unable to remember mum? Why did Voldemart try to kill me and Harry? It's quite obvious that since the green flash killed mum, it was casted again so then Harry and I would no longer be breathing the fresh sweet air of the earth, but most importantly, why? Also, is this the same spell that caused the lightning-shaped scar on my arm and Harry's forehead to hurt like bleeding heck the first time I saw Professor Snape?

I sat up and messed up the blood-red sheets. No, now's not a good time contemplate about the past. It's Christmas Day, a day to be happy. And besides, this is the first Christmas I've spent without having to worry about Dudleys' "wake up calls" or whether or not he's gotten more than seventy-something presents and received gifts. In the past, except for the one time I got a guitar for my eighth Christmas because I kept annoying the Dursleys about it, all I ever got was something cheap from Father Christmas.

I leaned over to my right side and picked up a brown lumpy package. There was a small label with the words, for one of my daughters' two idols, Molly Weasley. I carefully tore apart the parchment and found an emerald-colored hand- knitted sweater. I slid it over my pajamas and surprisingly discovered that it fits me. I made a mental note to ask Mrs. Weasley by owl mail how to make the flower-patterned border.

There was another brown package, although it was much firmer, thicker, and box-shaped. When I pulled the wrapping apart, a small black leather-bound notebook was lying beneath the paper. I ran my fingers over the cover, liking the roughness of it. I opened to the cover page and read the scribbled handwriting.

Dear Mary,

Hope you like yer gift! Harry told me yer running out of space in that notebook of yers and I know you loved to write music, just like what Lily did. The best part is, in order to see what ye've written down, you have to chant I wish to see what cannot be seen four times. That way, nobody will try to copy your music, 'though you'll have to say the chant when nobody's listening. I got this from the one time me went to Greece to visit me relatives. Have fun making music!

Hagrid

I smiled and mentally thanked Harry for telling Hagrid that I needed a notebook and saving me the trouble of cramming the music into the last two sheets of notebook paper. I had no idea how I could get paper without begging the Dursleys. I had gotten my current notebook from the local grocer who was very kind to me and gave it as a birthday gift when I picked up the groceries on the day I turned nine.

I picked up a small white envelope. Inside, there was a note from the Dursleys that I threw away and a small fifty pence taped to the inside of the envelope. Not the first time I got something almost unworthy.

There was a small white box with the words Special Delivery from London, England written in neat big letters on top. I pulled the top off and found a boxed set of the Chronicles of Narnia series. I took out The Magician's Nephew and opened to the first page. Scrawled in an untidy handwriting was written:

For a new out of state fan with a very kind friend named Hermione Granger. Have fun meeting the Pevensies and visiting the world of Narnia! I hope your journey reading will be filled with laughter, smiles, and recommendations to other people!

Signed,

C.S Lewis.

I closed the book and put it back with the other great works of literature by the same author. The Dursleys had never allowed me to read fiction and all of the books on Dudley's shelf of forgotten reads are mostly stories that make you fall asleep. No wonder Dudley rejected reading.

I picked up the last package, a small black velvet jewelry box. I shook it carefully and something small rattled inside. I lifted the soft cover and found a small silver key the size of my pinky lying on the gray cushion. The head of the key was a lowercase e that covered my palms that had intricate patterns of flowers I couldn't identify carved on. Looped through the e was a small silver chain that had no end.

I lifted it up and examined the key's head. For some strange reason, the beautiful pattern looked familiar, perhaps something I might've seen in at Dursleys' house. Right when I was about to pull it over my head so then it could settle on my neck, the door opened, revealing a very happy Demi.

Demi Finders was another first-year that I shared the dormitory with, along with Hermione, Parvati, and Lavender. She had pin-straight hair the color of corn, sapphire-colored eyes that had specks of red and green, a tanned and smooth complexion, and the kindest face that spoke the truth about its' owner I've ever seen at Hogwarts so far. Demi came from a pure-blooded family that surprisingly wasn't "loaded with money" like a certain ferret, just a sufficient amount to raise her and the six teasing siblings. Out of all of the other girls, she was the quietest in our group and spent most of her time writing letters sent home within one hour. In class, she just tries to not stand out in any way.

"Hey Demi," I said cheerfully. "How's your Christmas so far?"

She nodded with a small smile while lingering at the doorway in a shy way. Then she asked in a small melodic voice that hinted at an American heritage, "Thank you for the crocheted pencil pouch. I really appreciated that you've put so much time and effort in it. How's yours so far, Mary? Any presents from any boys?"

"I haven't got any fan boy gifts yet, thank goodness," I responded. "I'm having a great Christmas, thank you very much. By the way," I added, "Can you help figure out whom this necklace came from?"

She walked over and picked up the jewelry box, examining the inside. "Well," her voice spoke, "There is a note written in the lids' inside lining. It says 'Dear Mary, you were retrieved by Hagrid with this around your neck. I believe it's about time that it gets returned. You will find it helpful in the darkest of times as your key of hope. Never leave without it.' It's not signed, though. Maybe it's a boy joking around with you, possibly Malfoy trying to get back."

I laughed. "No way would Malfoy would try to patch things up. After the way he wrecked everything, there is no way I could be as close as friends with that git again. Not that you're not brilliant about this or anything," I said quickly as Demi's face fell. "I mean, I didn't look under the lid at all. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be able to figure out that someone probably older than the both of us had sent it."

Demi nodded, smiling again.

"In the meantime," I said, lifting the chain over my head and onto my neck and tugged my hair from under the chain. The necklace was really light. "Let's go down to the Great Hall and celebrate Christmas. We can worry about this mystery gift business later."

That day was probably the best Christmas holiday I've ever had. The wizard crackers' bangs, contained hats, and mice were more amusing than the cheap party favors that had tiny plastic toys and paper hats the Dursleys usually bought for celebrations. The dinner was fantastic, with the many fat and roasted turkeys, plates of boiled potatoes, chipolatas in platters, silver tureens containing buttered peas, rich gravy and cranberry sauce boats, and of course, the said entertainment stacked every few feet on the tables. Later, Percy almost broke a tooth after biting into a slice of flaming pudding that had a silver Sickle embedded in it. I amusingly watched Hagrid grow more crimson in the face with each goblet of wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall in the cheek, whom, to me and Harry's amazement, giggled and blushed like a schoolgirl, her top hat lopsided.

When I had left the table after a long time, my arms were full of various things such as a wart-growing kit, a new set of crocheting equipment, and exploding balloons that glowed. The mice, much to my dismay, were eaten publicly by Mrs. Norris.

The afternoon was spent reading The Magicians' Nephew and The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. I was fascinated by the world he had created and how realistic the Pevensies were, especially since Edmund reminded me a bit of Dudley. Later on, I watched as Harry lost to Ron in a game of wizarding chess on his new set. I suspected that Percy had been the main reason Harry had lost.

After indulging in some turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, everybody felt to sleepy and full to do much before bed except for watching Percy chase Fred and George all over the Gryffindor Tower for stealing his prefect badge and laugh as Percy, red-faced and panting, assumed defeat, only to be poked in the eye by the pin of the thrown badge and screaming not nice words at them. When I fell asleep, no dreams had haunted me that night.

December 26th, 1991

"Mary, I think I saw mum and dad last night!"

"Harry, it's probably a dream," I said while trying to maneuver a medium-sized piece of sausage on my plate. I finally spear it onto my fork and guide it towards myself.

"Mary, I'm not kidding. I was wide-eyed awake when I saw them in a mirror. They looked real."

I nearly dropped my sausage into the applesauce bowl at Harry's declaration. I slowly turned my head to the right to face him. His face was happy and there were small but prominent bags underneath his eyes, as if he couldn't sleep at all last night.

"Are you sure you didn't just drink too much eggnog?" I said crossly. Harry nodded. "If I came with you tonight and saw only a reflection of myself, I'm going to tell McGonagall about this, mark my words."

"Don't worry," Harry responded. "Ron's coming too, so you won't be with just me."

"But then how are we going to go tonight without being seen?"

"Someone sent me an Invisibility Cloak. He didn't sign the note he or she left."

I replayed all of the morning conversation in my head as I walked in between an evidently silently excited Harry and a curious Ron, trying not to trip over something and clutching the key I had received yesterday, the cold metal soothing my nerves. Walking in the castle at night without any invisibility at all is one matter, but trying not to tread on anything since invisibility only covers the liability of being seen is another complicated matter. Right around the time Ron was complaining about his cold, sore feet, Harry had reached a suit of armor and whispered, "This is it! It should be a door – here!" He pushed the door open, which was strangely unlocked.

I closed the door behind me and pulled the Cloak off. When I turned around, I almost got a heart attack at the sight of the tall mirror's reflection.

In the mirror, standing behind me, Ron, and Harry were two people, a male and a female. The male had black untidy hair that stuck up in the back, was very tall and thin, brown eyes that reminded me of the soil in Aunt Petunia's garden and was holding the red-haired radiantly beautiful female around her shoulder. When I squinted, I noticed unshed tears they were both trying horribly to hide. I took a step forward and noticed that her eyes were just like mine's and Harry's.

"Mum?" I whispered. "Dad?"

They both nodded, smiling. I pinched myself in the leg and knew that it wasn't a dream the minute I felt the small jolt of pain. I looked closely behind them and saw what must've been many past generations of Potter. Many of them had green eyes like mines, the same nose I had been jeered by Tara about that contrasted with her flat nose, and one of them looked like he might've had Harry's knobbly knees.

"Ron," I whispered excitedly, not able to take my eyes off of the reflection. "Do you see them?"

"What're you talking about?" Ron spoke somewhat crossly. "I can't see a thing at all."

"You're probably at an odd angle. Look, let's switch."

When the said action was done, my family had disappeared, leaving behind a side reflection of Ron gaping at something in the mirror.

"Do you see them?" Harry asked, not able to keep the excitement out of his voice. "Do you see them?"

After several minutes, Ron whispered, "Look at me!"

"You see them?" I whispered back, my heart beating quicker by the second.

"No, I stand all alone, but I'm older and-and I'm head boy!"

"What!" Harry and I exclaimed a bit louder than we should have.

"I'm wearing the badge Bill used to-holding the House and Quidditch Cup-Harry and Mary, I think I'm the Quidditch captain!"

Tearing his eyes away from the glorious sight, he whispered, "Do think this mirror shows our futures?"

I tried not to look at Ron because I know that he will see the disappointment while Harry argued with Ron about what he should've and had seen and noticed the little inscription on top of the mirror's golden frame. Engraved into it were the words Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on woshi. Suddenly, I heard the same musical voice that I haven't heard since that fateful day in Potions, no matter how hard I tried to hear it again, speak softly, I show not your face but your heart's desire. Be careful what you wish for, daughter.

Before I could try to puzzle out the words, Harry had flung the cloak of invisibility over my head. Scared that someone had come in, I whirled around and forgot what the voice had said, discovering that it was Mrs. Norris on her nightly patrol. Holding my breath, I pondered along with Harry and Ron whether or not the cat could see through invisibility cloaks. Several minutes ticked by before Mrs. Norris finally left and Ron dragged Harry and I back to the dormitory.

December 27th, 1991

By the next morning, the snow still hadn't melted, so I read Prince Caspian: The Return to Narnia and The Voyage of the Dawn Treader while Ron tried to convince Harry to play some wizarding chess. Harry seemed a bit distracted, possibly on the events of the previous night. Suddenly, Harry asked, "Mary do you want to see mum and dad again?"

I bookmarked my page with a green hand-crocheted chain, disappointed that I was interrupted right when Reepicheep entered Aslan's Country. Setting it down on the table next to me, I contemplated whether or not I should go. On one hand, it'd be nice to see my parents again and try to talk to them. I'm also curious to find out why Ron didn't see them. On the other hand, last night's voyage proved that Hogwarts is very dangerous at night, especially when one is cloaked invisibly and there's a very suspicious Mrs. Norris at ready to let the cat out of the bag and alert Filch. Suddenly, I remembered last night's words; I show not your face, but your heart's desire. Be careful what you wish for, daughter. If I'm correct, and I wasn't going loony in the head, the mirror that I had seen last night was the Mirror of Desire and mum and dad were just images of what Harry and I desired the most: knowing what our parents and family look like. Knowing Harry, he wouldn't believe me and just go, all the same.

"I can't go," I lied, hating myself for deceiving my only sibling when his face fell. "I'm sorry, but I can't go because Demi needs help on her knitting skills and I promised to write back to Hermione over Christmas break." The middle part wasn't a lie.

Harry just turned away, disappointed, while Ron, obviously confused about the last lie I had fed to my twin, gave me a you-owe-me-an-explanation look. I just nodded my head and went back to my book for the rest of the afternoon.

So, whaddaya think? Please leave behind a review and take the poll in my profile. Flames will be used to make S'mores. Mmmm…

~Annabelle4.0