Hi everyone, Cody here. Just wanted to say thank you to andyicefox for making the cover to this book! But now that you've made a cover to one of them, you're going to have to make the covers to all of them, hope you thought that through... :) Anyway, enjoy this chapter, everyone! I've only got three more to write, then I'm starting on book 2, which shall not be named until the final chapter, just because I like suspense.

Thanks for following, favoriting, reviewing to everyone who's done so! It makes it all worthwhile.

CHAPTER NINE

THE MIDYEAR EXAMS

O

Albus had signed up to book a seat on the Hogwarts Express for home. He had studied until his brain was sore. All that was left was to concentrate and get this done, then move on to his last exam tomorrow.

Professor Longbottom's test and essay were difficult; Albus would have preferred a practical exam, as he promised the final would be. He knew that Mandrakes were used for powerful restoratives, but how was he supposed to be able to remember exactly what they restored…?

The answer came to him in a flash of inspiration from recalling one of his father's stories, the one about his father's second year at Hogwarts, and the basilisk attacks. Petrification was a powerful form of Transfiguration, he remembered Professor Desulgon telling them, and Petrification was precisely the reason his father had to wait for Mandrakes to mature before the victims were cured. He scribbled,

Mandragora is used as a restorative, used in antidotes to return those who have been Transfigured or cursed to their original state.

He frowned and scratched at his chin. It was awkward-sounding; why? There it was—he'd put the word "used" in that paragraph twice, close together. Acting the perfectionist that he'd grown to be since he arrived at Hogwarts, and feeling that this was something that Rose would never do, he fretted over the problem for a moment or two before deciding it wasn't worth his time and moving on; he still had to bring to his memory whether Deeproot or Dugroot was the meat-eating tree, and whether Black Brerida or Black Caster was the tree that grew faster in fire. He settled on Dugroot and Black Brerida, crossed the t's and dotted the i's in his essay, and then checked his answers on the test one last time before the bell rang and he deemed himself satisfied.

When he handed his test in, Professor Longbottom scanned up and down the multiple choice answers on his paper and winked at him. Albus assumed this was a good sign, and he left the testing room with extreme confidence. He pulled up alongside Aidan, who had appeared from the classroom next door, to walk to the Great Hall for dinner. All of the first years took their exams at the same time; their Herbology exam took place in classrooms sorted by House. Several teachers whom Albus had only seen at the feasts were manning the other classrooms; Albus figured that they took some of the third-year and up electives.

"Have any problems?" asked Albus.

Aidan grinned. "Nope. You?"

"Of course you didn't have any problems," said Albus. "Your only problem is probably that Rose didn't have any problems, either." Aidan laughed. "Anyway, I felt like I did a great job. Maybe worded some things a little awkwardly on the essay."

"That's nothing," said Aidan. "We're still first years, we can get away with that. Most of our friends were probably worse."

"What a fine attitude," laughed Albus. "'Most of our friends were probably worse.' That's the way I ought to look at things."

Alec brushed by them, walking rather quickly. He appeared to have heard them, and he appeared to have thought that they were referring to him, because he didn't acknowledge them and looked rather angry.

"Alec?" said Aidan. "Hey! ALEC!"

Alec didn't respond.

Aidan turned to Albus, looking slightly alarmed. "You don't suppose he thought we were talking about him, do you?"

"I hope not," said Albus.

Eftan shifted through the crowd of first years and caught up with them. "Hey, guys," he said. "Did Alec say hi to you? I asked him how his test went and he scowled and went running."

"I don't think it went too well," said Aidan, sounding upset. "I wish he could have had the drive to just sit down and study for a couple hours. It's not like he's stupid."

"Well, this is why the midyear exams are here, isn't it?" asked Eftan. "To check up on people's progress, so that if anyone's having problems, the teachers can sort it out before the final."

"Alec just refuses any attempts to sort it out," said Aidan. "I've been trying. I'll try harder."

"He's not your responsibility, Aidan," said Eftan. "You're just friends. I'm sure the teachers will sort him out."

Aidan didn't smile for the rest of the day.

O

Right before their Transfiguration tests the next day, Professor Westerling met the first years in the hall outside the classrooms and handed back their Defense Against the Dark Arts exams with the grades on them. He suggested that they not look until after the exam, so as not to pollute their prepared minds, but very few people took his advice. Eftan was jumping for joy about his 97%, and Albus beamed with pride about his 101%.

"Why," said Albus, staring at a gleaming 110% on Aidan's paper, "weren't you in Ravenclaw if you're so incredibly perfect?"

"Hufflepuff's the House of hard workers," said Aidan, shrugging. "I have to study a ton to get grades like this. This stuff doesn't come as naturally to me like it does to some people." He was looking at Rose's paper, also with a shining 110%. "Why wasn't your cousin in Ravenclaw?"

"Not sure," said Albus.

"Why wasn't I in Hufflepuff?" grumbled Alec near them, crumpling up a paper in his hand. Albus couldn't see the full score, but he saw that the first number was a 5.

"You've got brains," snapped Aidan. "Use them."

"But won't that make you look bad?" Alec shot back. "I thought you gauged your successes by my failures."

"What—Are you seriously hanging on that?" groaned Aidan. "I wasn't talking about you. I was making a point to Albus that first years generally don't have the best writing techniques in the school, so it's perfectly okay if his essay was a little messy."

"Yeah, because how could Professor Longbottom take any points off Albus's essay when you compare it to mine?" growled Alec. "When there are essays like mine that hog all the deductions?"

"Stop it," said Aidan. "Just stop, Alec, you're being ridiculous."

"Ridiculous and stupid," he replied. "That's just me, isn't it."

He got up and walked away from them, ignoring Aidan yelling at him.

"I don't think yelling at him is going to work, Aidan," said Albus quietly.

"Then you try and get through to him!" Aidan shouted; several other first years looked over. "I've tried and tried, and he just doesn't want to work! I hate seeing him do nothing to improve! I want so badly to help him but he doesn't want to help himself! I don't see you doing anything to try to help him, so don't you talk to me about what's working and what's not working!"

"That's going a little too far," said a soft, kind voice behind Aidan; he whipped around to see Professor Desulgon tilting his head and watching the exchange.

"Oh—hi, Professor Desulgon."

"Clear your head now, you don't want to be all crazy for the exam," said Professor Desulgon. "I'm not sure who you were talking about, but I'm sure that you wouldn't like someone talking—er, screaming behind your back, so settle down there."

Aidan's dark skin flushed.

"A word from the wise, screaming doesn't usually solve anything," said Professor Desulgon. "You tend to block out everything else with the sound of your own voice. I'm sure the problem will right itself whatever the volume. Now get ready, we're about to do our test." He strode away, leaving Aidan very flustered.

"Everyone into the first classroom," announced Professor Desulgon to the chattering horde of students. "Yes, all Houses in this classroom. We're going to do this randomly. I'll pick your names out of a hat. Everyone write your name on a piece of parchment—anyone who doesn't put their name in the hat or misspells it will receive a zero for the test, so don't screw this part up. I'll pull one name out of the hat at a time, and the person whose name I pull will come with me to the second classroom and perform several tasks in Transfiguration in front of me, with a short time limit for each. There will be style points, so remember to make things look good. When people are finished, they will not go to this classroom, but to the third classroom, where they will wait until the bell so that they don't spoil the surprise for everyone else. Got it?"

He waved his wand in the air, and strips of parchment shot from the tip, showering all over the classroom. "Everyone grab a paper, write your name down on one strip, and throw it in this hat." He conjured a hat out of the air and threw it towards the center of the room, where it hovered over a table.

When everyone was finished, Professor Desulgon swam his hand around in the inside of the hat, and pulled out a thin strip of parchment with handwriting that looked very familiar…

"Albus Potter! Come with me, kid."

"Of course," groaned Albus, and he trudged along after Professor Desulgon. He would have no time for last-minute studying, and after completion of the tasks, he would sit alone in the third classroom with nothing but thoughts on how well he did until the second person showed up.

"Right in here, then…"

Albus scooted into an empty classroom, in which there was a single desk with three items sitting on top: a matchstick, a slug, and a button.

"All right, Albus," said Professor Desulgon, conjuring a comfy armchair and plopping down on it like he was reclining at home, procuring a clipboard from the inside of his robes. "Name the four generally recognized branches of Transfiguration."

Albus paused. He had been on the verge of taking out his wand—Professor Desulgon had said they would be performing tasks, and the fact that he had just been asked a question caught him off-guard. He expected that this would be his first practical exam experience. "Er. Transformation, Untransfiguration, Vanishment, and Conjuration."

"Good. What is the difference between Charms and Transfiguration?"

"Charms is the art of bestowing properties upon an object, whereas Transfiguration is the art of altering the structure of an object."

Professor Desulgon smirked at the textbook answer, and Albus felt more at ease.

"What sort of Transfection do I have?"

"What sort of—could you repeat the question?"

"Certainly. What sort of Transfection do I have?"

"Er… you're an Animagus?"

Professor Desulgon nodded, and Albus breathed a sigh of relief.

"Could I still be an Animagus if I was bitten by a werewolf?"

Albus tensed up yet again; the questions were becoming harder. "Er… no, because… because you can only have one Transfection…?"

"Good. Yes, you have a friend who was the son of a werewolf and a Metamorphmagus, don't you? Ted Lupin?"

Albus nodded.

"I also know him well," said Professor Desulgon. "We attended Hogwarts together, in fact. He's one of the most gifted Metamorphmagi to ever live. Anyway, what is a constant property of Conjured objects?"

The answer was pressing in the back of Albus's mind, and he knew it, but he couldn't bring it to the front. He was straining with all his memory, but unsuccessfully, and he started grasping at straws.

"Er—they—they are—they aren't—er—"

"Don't worry about that question, it's for extra credit," said Professor Desulgon, waving his hand. "I never went over it in class, but it's mentioned once in the introduction to the book, which I asked you to read on the first week. If I don't ask hard questions, I'll never know exactly where your skill level is." He scribbled something down on his clipboard. "Why is human Transfiguration not learned until N.E.W.T. level?"

This one, Albus thought he knew. "Er… because it's harder to Transfigure more complex organisms, because a lot of people are afraid to try and Transfigure themselves, and because there's more chance of a real disaster if something goes wrong?"

Professor Desulgon flicked an eyebrow. "That was more extensive of an answer than I was expecting. All right, good job. Make that matchstick a needle."

Albus nodded and extracted his wand. He cleared his throat, raised his wand above the matchstick, and softly he said "Conviso verto."

The end of the matchstick twitched. A hole appeared in the center and expanded, and slowly the tan faded into silver as the other end sharpened into a point.

"Impressive," said Professor Desulgon. "Very impressive. That, my young friend, is a perfect needle. Using Conviso that cleanly? I'd have put it past the second years' midyear test. Just curious, do you remember the particular incantation for matches into needles?"

"Acer Verto," said Albus at once.

"Excellent. Of course, Conviso is used as the blanket spell so that you don't have to memorize the particular incantation for each particular transfiguration, but it is obviously easier to use the specialized incantation, so it doesn't hurt to know it at this point in your school career. Turn that slug into a fancy ribbon before it slides off the table."

Albus pointed his wand at the slug, and cleared his throat again. "Conv—WAIT! I remembered!"

Professor Desulgon looked up curiously.

"S-Sorry," said Albus nervously. "I just remembered that… that a Conjured object won't last."

Professor Desulgon broke into a wide grin.

"Fantastic. Your slug is escaping. …Slowly."

"Conviso verto."

The slug jerked into the air and then snapped, and a ribbon floated gently to the ground out of the air where the slug had been. The ribbon was patterned with the red and gold of Gryffindor, and had frilly lace around the edges—Albus had practiced this task the most, suspecting it to be on the exam and having performed it as a class assignment perfectly a couple weeks ago.

"And the specialized incantation for that one is 'Slendrilus,'" added Albus.

"Fantabulous," said Professor Desulgon. "And stylish." He shifted in his chair so he was facing Albus, and folded his fingers together.

"Now, this button… This button used to be something else. It's already been Transfigured. The incantation for blanket Untransfiguration is 'Revertus.' We have not studied Untransfiguration at all yet. You will by no means be able to get the object back into its original state, especially without knowing what the original object was. However, if you can do enough of a job to make a guess at what the original object was, you should not have to worry at all about your grade. Give it a go."

Albus gave a glance at his wand.

You'll be able to perform magic with somewhat less theory than others.

He cleared his throat for the third time.

"Revertus."

The button jumped up from the ground and flickered in the air before three awkward legs sprouted from its underside, and two glittering black eyes appeared. It scuttled around the table and then toppled off, running in circles around the floor and bumping into the table legs.

"Was it—a beetle?" Albus guessed.

Professor Desulgon's eyes were blazing with pride as he stood up, walked around the desk, and patted Albus on the shoulder. "Let's get you to the other classroom, then. You've set a darn high standard."

Albus glowed with excitement. He'd just smashed his Transfiguration exam. Now he could only sit and wait for his friends to show up out of the examinations at random so that he could ask how they did—except maybe Alec. Albus suspected that he might not want to talk about it.

A girl with short, curly hair was next to enter the room; she looked petrified. Albus recalled her as Nina Amualda, a Slytherin girl. The next girl to come in was Juniper Smith, a Hufflepuff, and then in came Maximilian Arkhoth, also of Slytherin, both looking fairly confident. Max and Nina struck up a chat as Albus waited for a friend to show up. Skye Summers, another Hufflepuff, entered the room and started a conversation with Junie about the test.

Then the door opened again, and Holly Glissendale walked in. She looked around and saw Albus sitting alone; then she walked over and sat down next to him.

"How did you do?" she asked, smiling brightly.

It was a simple question. It was a very, very simple question. Four words. Four very common words. Had it been asked by anyone else, Albus would have had an immediate response, but for now, his brain crept down into his stomach and hid there.

"Er…"

Holly pursed a lip. "Bad? It's hard going first."

"No—great, actually!" Albus tried to smile in earnest. He really hoped that she didn't think he was stupid. "He said that I set a high standard."

"Oh—that's stupendous!" said Holly, bouncing a little. "I get it. You were being modest."

Albus grinned weakly back in response.

"That button was a bug, right?"

"Beetle-bug," said Albus, nodding.

Beetle-bug?

He wanted to smack himself in the forehead.

"Beetle, I should have known," she said. "I'd say 'bug' was good enough, though."

Then she turned to him.

"Wait, you remember me, right?" she asked, smiling sweetly. "I'm not just some random girl who came up to you?"

"Of course!" said Albus quickly. "Of course I remember you, you're Holly, I met you on the train coming to Hogwarts, you were wearing a white blouse."

He paled, and then almost blushed, and then paled again, and then started to sweat slightly. Why did he tell her that he remembered what she was wearing? Was he trying to impress her? What on Earth was he thinking? That was just creepy.

But Holly just laughed and said, "Yeah, I think I was." Mercifully, she then decided to change the subject back to the exam. "Professor Desulgon said that he thought I was significantly above expectations, so that made me feel good about the exam."

"Yeah, I feel good about it too," said Albus.

Finally, something I said didn't make me look like an idiot.

"We really have to stay in here the whole time?" pouted Holly after a moment's silence. "There's so many people left. It was, like, a two-minute test, and then we just sit here? What are we supposed to do?"

"Yeah," said Albus, realizing too late that "Yeah" was not an appropriate response for "What are we supposed to do?"

"At least we're done with exams, though. You going home for Christmas?"

"Yeah, I am. Are you?"

A second intelligible response! I'm on a roll here.

"I am, too. Is anyone staying, do you know?"

"I think Exo is, since his dad is here," said Albus.

"Oh. Is his mom coming up to the school?"

Albus flinched. Exo's mother had been killed in an Auror raid when his father dueled her after discovering that she was working with Gallen Ingot.

"Not sure," he mumbled.

"Anyone else you know? I don't know anyone in our year who's staying. I think it'd be terribly lonely."

Albus nodded. "My dad used to stay, because he hated his aunt and uncle. He said he was usually one of the only ones to stay."

"Oh," said Holly, her heart clearly melting. "That's so sad."

He didn't know where to go with the conversation from there, but luckily, Ilia Kaska, another Ravenclaw girl, walked into the room at that moment. She sat down next to Holly and started chatting with her instead.

Thank Merlin there was no talking-to-girls exam.

It was a few more people before a good friend of Albus's walked in, and it was Alec. Albus tensed, not knowing if Alec would want to sit with him or be by himself to sulk, but Alec sat on Albus's other side, looking stunned.

Alec was silent, and Albus didn't say anything to him—what would he have said? But Alec seemed to be far more confused than angry, and Albus decided to take a chance.

"Er… how'd it go?"

"I remembered most of the questions out of luck," he said. "And Professor Desulgon seemed really happy with me. Then, he… he asked me to do the three tasks, and I…"

He looked up at Albus.

"He said my performance was impeccable."

Albus waited for a while, and then tentatively, as if Alec would suddenly say "Just kidding" and start sulking again, he asked, "…Really?"

"Yes, really," whispered Alec, staring at his feet. "Er…"

"What?"

Alec pursed his lips. "What does 'impeccable' mean?"

Albus laughed. "I think it means 'perfect.'"

Alec perked up. "Wait—really?"

"Yes, really," grinned Albus.

Alec's eyes widened. "I THOUGHT he looked happy!"

"That's fantastic news!" said Albus. "How'd you do so well? Did you study for this one?"

Alec shook his head. "Whenever we do practical stuff… it just… feels right to me. I don't know, I can't keep facts and stuff in my head for long, but magic… I really like doing the magic. I hope all our finals are practical."

"Didn't Professor Desulgon say, at the beginning of the year when he looked at our wands, that he was going to have to keep an eye on you?"

Alec suddenly snapped his head back, remembering. "Oh, yeah… And he suggested I join the Dueling Club!"

"That's right," said Albus. "Wow, I wonder if he suspected you'd be really good in practical stuff?"

Alec was filling with confidence like Albus had never seen. Hopefully, Aidan would walk in soon and see him like this.

But Aidan was close to last. The classroom was so full that they could hardly all sit on the floor without brushing up against each other when Aidan finally walked in and heaved a satisfied sigh. He walked over to Albus, Alec, and Eftan, and gave a nod to Alec that said he was sorry; Alec nodded back.

"So…?" asked Aidan nervously; he clearly didn't want to say the question out loud in front of Alec.

"We all did phenomenal," said Albus. He almost added "Even Alec," but that might have made Alec feel stupid again, and he really didn't want that; not after the good mood Alec had been experiencing during the whole exam period. "How about you?"

"I did—really good," Aidan said, still refusing, as always, to use the word "perfect," but they understood. "All of you guys did phenomenal?"

"Professor Desulgon said that I outdid myself by a good margin," said Eftan. "He said Albus set a really high standard, and he said that Alec's practical portion was impeccable!"

Alec was beaming, and some of his good mood was suddenly transferred to Aidan, who gave him a hug.

"Knew you could do it!"

"You did?" said Alec numbly.

There was a short silence.

"Who's left?" said Eftan, changing the subject. "To be examined, I mean? How many people are left?"

"Before I was called, it was just me, Rose, one of the Greengrass triplets, and a couple Slytherins," said Aidan. "Shouldn't be too long now."

Shortly afterwards, Rose rolled in looking confident. Then Scorpius Malfoy, who was as unreadable as ever, strolled in, and then Heidi Lasseter entered. Finally, Sebastian Greengrass, looking green as grass, walked into the room, and Professor Desulgon followed.

"That's it, everyone!" he announced. "Your Christmas has officially begun. Make it a good one! And make sure your brains don't leak all this stuff out over break… please take the time to find the leaks and patch them up. I'll see you all in a couple weeks, in January."

O

After a weekend of delicious food and great festivity, and the return of several more exams with scores on them that he knew would make his parents beam with pride, the Hogwarts Express departed back to London. Albus shared a compartment with Aidan, Eftan, and Alec again, and they were joined by Sylvester Alamandrine, Jonah Baxter-Thornton, Toby Adonax, and Parker Pullman, so that every seat was filled. Albus saw Holly walk by the window and glance in; she looked disappointed that the compartment was so crowded, and she moved on. Albus had a sudden urge to kick out some of his friends.

"I'm really looking forward to going home for a while," said Parker. "I love school, but I miss knowing for sure where everything is."

Sylvester laughed. "Yeah, they really didn't think about blind people when they designed the moving staircases in Hogwarts, did they?"

Jonah leaned forward dramatically. "So what do you guys all think about this mulunctapol stuff? You think there's something going on?"

"Who would have been able to keep them a secret for this long?" said Toby. "I think they must have just missed a few when they eradicated the species. There's lots of stuff in the Forbidden Forest we don't know about."

"Charlie said that Wilcox and Valon have been 'stalking around the woods,' and they might have stirred something up," said Albus.

"Who said that?" asked Toby.

"I did," said Albus, staring at him.

"No—I mean, who did you say said that about Wilcox and Valon?"

"Charlie? Oh—sorry. Professor Weasley."

"There's a Professor Weasley?"

"Care of Magical Creatures, Wilcox introduced him to us at the start of the year."

"Oh, yeah."

"Mulunctapols are creepy," said Parker. "I don't like the thought that I wouldn't be able to know where they are."

"The plural is 'mulunctapoli,'" said Aidan immediately.

"Did you ask for a Soundsplitter for Christmas?" Toby asked Albus.

"You are obsessed with this broom!"

"I want to ride one so bad!"

"I know you want to ride it! What did you think I thought you wanted to do with it—clean our dorm?"

"But did you ask?"

"I asked Mom if she could get a sponsorship, just to shut you up," Albus laughed, and Toby's face lit up.

"What did she say?"

"She said not a chance."

Toby's face fell again.

"I did ask for a broom for Christmas, but not a Soundsplitter. What did you guys ask for?"

"A basilisk," said Sylvester, and the compartment laughed. "But I don't think my parents would approve. They're Muggles, you know. They like magic, but not in the house. Especially when the magical animal in question kills with a stare."

Eftan took a small device from his pocket and started touching the surface. Then, he held it up to his ear and waited for a few seconds. Everyone in the compartment, except for Sylvester, was staring at him with fascination.

"Hi—Mom? Yeah, I'm on the train—cell phones don't work in Hogwarts, I had to wait until I was far enough away from the castle. What? Oh, I don't know—something about magical interference with electricity. Anyway, I'm heading back now—yeah. See you soon. …You too. Bye." He touched the surface once more and started to pocket it, but Jonah stopped him with an incredulous look on his face.

"What the heck was that?"

"That?" Eftan stared at him. "That was a cell phone. You've never seen one?"

"No!" Jonah gawked. "You're—were you just talking to your mom?"

"Yeah." Eftan seemed to not understand why Jonah was so amazed.

"Wow, that's seriously cool," he said. "Why haven't I heard of these? And how come your mom can use one if she's a Muggle?"

"Because these were invented by Muggles," said Eftan.

Jonah stared him down. "What?"

"These were invented by Muggles," repeated Eftan.

"He's serious," said Sylvester.

Jonah shifted his gaze down to the phone. "Muggles can talk to each other through a little piece of plastic?"

"Basically," said Eftan. "Pretty much everyone has one… You dial a number—that means you just press seven buttons, you have to either remember the number or you can save it to your phone's memory in your contacts—and then the other person's phone rings, or vibrates, to let them know that someone's calling. Then they press the 'answer' button and you can hear them talk and they can hear you."

"How the heck does that work?" Jonah's mind was clearly blown.

"Which part?"

"All the parts!"

Eftan smiled. "It's got a little computer inside it," he said. "Here, look, I can play games on it—" He pressed a few buttons, and the words "Angry Birds" appeared on the screen. "In this one, you catapult the little bird into the blocks and try to knock things over and score points—"

Jonah seized the device. After Eftan explained how to play, Jonah played "Angry Birds" the entire way into the station while the rest of them talked Christmas and exams.

"I've gotta get me one of these things," said Jonah. "I should've asked for this for Christmas!"

"Don't think about stealing one from a Muggle, either," said Eftan, smiling. "Nobody loses one of these things without missing it, and Muggles have ways of tracking their missing phones."

"I'm seriously impressed right now," said Jonah. "Did—did wizards help Muggles do all this stuff or did they do it themselves?"

"No, I'm pretty sure it's all Muggle stuff," said Eftan, shrugging. "I don't even know how most of it works. Have you ever seen a movie?"

Jonah shook his head.

Eftan laughed. "I'll download a few for the trip back to Hogwarts. See you then."

Jonah waved goodbye, and then their group split up as they walked around the station, looking for family.

Albus met up with James, and together they looked for their parents. The station was slightly less crowded than it had been when they departed, and it wasn't long before James tugged on Albus's arm to tell them he'd spotted family. They raced towards the red hair they could see through the crowd, which belonged to their mother and Lily.

Albus paused when he had almost reached them, and his smile faded slightly. His mother was also only half-smiling.

"Where's Dad?" asked James, frowning fully.

Their mother sighed. Albus understood from her expression that his father was busy doing overtime at the Ministry. He would probably be doing overtime every day.

"He can't even be sure he'll be with us the whole day on Christmas," she told them as they climbed into the car.

It was going to be a pretty lonely holiday.