8
Jakob's Gift
A sick child was nothing new to the Burrow. After seven children, Molly Weasley was well versed in healing spells, potions, and was just as competent a nurse as anyone on Madame Pomfrey's staff.
Jakob, however, proved to not be a typical sick child.
"Dunno, never been sick before," He informed Molly that next morning, having developed a wet, hacking cough that was bringing up frightening amounts of obnoxiously colored mucous. He complained that he was hot, yet he shivered under his blankets. His temperature continued to climb, and when it hit 105F [40.6C], Molly began to worry that the fever wasn't going to break. Much higher, and the boy risked going into convulsions. He didn't want to eat, and began losing weight. His breathing became more labored, and he whimpered and squirmed constantly.
Through it all, Molly never left his bedside. She held his hand, read to him, and even sent Arthur out to get a smaller WWN radio for his room. She rocked him when he couldn't sleep, did everything that her experience as a mother had taught her, but nothing seemed to help as Jakob grew worse.
Harry and Hermione, having grown up in the Muggle world, Apparated with Arthur to procure Muggle items such as a vaporizer, mentholated cream to rub on the boy's chest and throat, and various Muggle drugs such as guaifenesin, albuterol, and acetaminophen when it seemed like magical remedies weren't going to have any effect. In a few more days, it was full-blown pneumonia, and Arthur summoned Madame Iris Pomfrey from St. Mungo's, medical bills be damned.
"I don't want to move him," she informed them all, having set up a few Muggle treatments of her own, such as an oxygen line and an IV after having broken the fever with an ice bath. "Those Muggle drugs are, I hate to admit it, probably what turned the trick. It's odd that he didn't respond to the usual potions for respiratory distress, though? It seems they only made things worse?"
"He's a very strange child," Arthur had to admit. "I mean, it's not unusual to see a burst of childhood magic, like with fixing the car tire, but to do it four times in a row, intentionally?"
"And what eight year old has never been sick before?" Molly asked.
"Hard to say, but you said he doesn't remember much?" Madame Pomfrey replied. "You said that his memories, other than snow, seem to begin with seeing the battle? He's probably been ill before; he just doesn't remember it."
"Is he going to be all right?" Arthur asked pointedly.
"The good news is, is that it's bacterial pneumonia, so he should respond well to the Muggle antibiotics," Madame Pomfrey nodded. "Keep him on that, and the nebulizer, and try to get him to eat, and he'll be fine. Once he starts taking food regularly, we can discontinue the IV and oxygen. Just make sure he takes plenty of fluids."
Children are resilient, though, and a week later (with only five to days to Christmas Eve), Jakob was back on his feet. He wasn't allowed to go outside, however, and he spent most of his time near the fireplace. He was happy to get back to his schoolwork, complaining that he'd been bored out of his mind. "Did anyone water the Christmas tree?" He asked that first day, seeing that it was looking rather droopy. Jakob tended to that, but it seemed to wear him out.
"Are we going to trim it, or not?" Ron asked, "We're only about three weeks late, you know!"
"Is it too big?" Jakob wondered.
"No," Molly assured him, "Trimming it means we put decorations on it."
"Can we do it tomorrow?" Jakob yawned.
And although he still didn't feel so good, he did notice that things seemed to be getting back to the way they were.
Jakob liked that.
And so on December 20th, The Mother Night and Odinist Festival of Midwinter, Jakob got to experience his first tree trimming. He was fascinated by all the handmade old decorations, and was thrilled as the adults took turns levitating him up so that he could hang ornaments on the top of the tree. Many of them glowed with their own magical light, and Jakob was enthralled. Then Arthur brought out a kit for making new ones. It involved clay, water, forming and baking the sculptures, and made quite the mess. Jakob was delighted. Molly fled to the sitting room to knit with Hermione and Ginny while the men wrecked her kitchen.
"This almost makes me feel like a little kid again! You know, they say that dreams on this night foretell the future," Ron pointed out.
"Sounds just as woolly as Divination, to me," Hermione scoffed, as they all took a break for hot cocoa and biscuits. "Although tomorrow is the Winter Solstice."
"Wha's that?" Jakob asked, as the oven did double duty in baking biscuits and new ornaments. He held up one of his creations, a perfect replica of his toy dragon. The toy Horntail was not impressed at all.
"How'd he do that?" Harry had to ask, passing the boy a small paint set to colour it with.
"The longest night of the year, and the celebration of the return of many various sun gods," Hermione explained, while Ron rolled his eyes. "Many believe it to be very mystical, especially in the Magical World."
"I dreamed about Essie last night," Jakob nodded.
"Abe's goat?" Ron exclaimed. "That's odd?"
"I like him," Jakob nodded again.
As they continued to eat biscuits and make new ornaments, Molly brought out a large box of cards and envelopes.
"I think we can ship these off by Floo, as the calls have pretty much stopped," she pointed out. "The poor owl will never be able to keep up, not this late in the season!"
Ron and Arthur both groaned. Jakob didn't know what Christmas cards were, but after signing his name to about a hundred of them, he decided that they weren't that much fun as he sat rubbing his wrist. It was fun, though, to throw them into the green flames of the Floo and then yell at it where to send them to. He was especially pleased to send one to Mr. Lovegood, and delighted to see Luna pay a visit just before bedtime.
"Father hasn't stopped talking about him," Luna told them, seeming more dreamy and detached than ever. She looked all around the Burrow, her eyes wide. "Oh, this is all just so magical!" She sighed, taking a biscuit from Jakob. "You know, we've been flooded with letters of people offering Jakob a home," she came right out and said it, which brought everything to a stop. Of course, Luna had no idea how she'd sounded. "Everyone wants him now, thanks to the article. Father even thinks that Percy might be able to place most of the shelter children before Christmas, now! Isn't it lovely?"
The clock ticked.
Molly and Arthur shared a long, hard look. Each knew what the other was remembering:
No, Charlie, you charm the clay like this!
DO NOT! You jus' wanna hog it all!
That's too much water!
Shut up, Percy!
Mummy! Ronnie's eating the ornaments!
Buh dat a bik'sit?
Baby Ginny apparently thought the clay was for a facial.
"I don't think that'll be necessary, in this case, Luna," Arthur informed her, looking long and hard at Jakob, who was now busy painting his Dirigible Plum ornaments in all colors.
"Daddy!"
"It goes, it goes!"
"What's Christmas?"
And finally – "He'll be stripped of his magic and placed with a Muggle family."
He then looked at Molly. "We're keeping him," he said softly, nodding.
The rest of them shared looks of approval, as if not surprised at all.
"Isn't that wonderful, Jakob?" Luna asked him.
"Huh?" Jakob asked, looking up from his painting. He handed Luna a yellow plum ornament. "For you!"
"Oh, it's lovely!" She kissed his cheek. "Thank you!"
Just then, the Floo lit up. Harry went to answer it, and it turned out to be Miss Felicia Thimblebrass. She was dressed in lavender robes, carrying a briefcase, and looked to be all business.
"Well, this is unexpected," she observed of all the festivities, as Jakob ran to her and hugged her, leading her into the kitchen for cocoa and biscuits, and anxious to show off their creations. "I hear someone's been ill?"
And so Jakob told her all about it. When he was done, however, Felicia looked skeptical. She took Molly and Arthur aside.
"I've seen this before," she informed them, "And I have to ask, are you still going to feel this way about him when Christmas is over?" She asked bluntly. "After the incident of finding out who his real parents are, and the article in The Quibbler, to say nothing of his wandering off and getting sick…well, I have to say, things don't look all that good for you right now."
"Miss Thimblebrass," Arthur interrupted her. "This hasn't been an easy decision. But believe me when I say, after the past few weeks, things have changed here."
"You really think you can do this?" Felicia persisted, "Despite what people might think? Despite what his family did to yours?" She paused, "And despite what Percy has reported that you've put this boy through already? A week ago, I had to pay you to keep him!"
"The child did nothing to us," Molly retorted, "Except remind of us of our own shortcomings," she added, "It just took us a while to see that."
"Please, don't take him away from us," Arthur bowed his head. "We…I was wrong. I see that now."
"I warned you that this one was quite special," Felicia reminded them, "Percy and I were wondering just how far we were going to have to go!"
They both gasped and stared at her.
And she finally smiled.
"I'll let you get on about your evening," she then took her leave.
On her way to the Floo, Jakob stopped her for one last hug. He then offered her the toy dragon. "Can you wrap him up and give him to Cam?" He asked. "Cam needs a friend!" He then whispered, handing her a purple plum ornament. "A bit longer, pleeeeease?"
"Of course I will, thank you, Jakob, and yes!" She kissed his cheek, took the toy dragon, and then turned to vanish into the green flames.
It was much later when Ginny unpacked the final ornament – an angel to place at the top of the tree. She was dressed all in white, and a wave of Molly's wand gave her a warm glow. She placed the angel in Jakob's small hands.
"My mummy and I made that when I was a little girl," Molly informed him.
Jakob smiled. The angel then flapped her wings, and flew to her usual position atop the tree, smiling down upon them all.
"Are we done now?" Jakob asked, looking all around at the transformed Burrow.
"Kid, you haven't seen the half of it!" Ron assured him.
"Just make sure to pay special attention to your dreams tonight," Luna reminded Jakob, as she, too, took her leave, and her yellow plum ornament, and Floo'd home.
"What was Miss Thimblebrass saying to you?" Jakob asked, as Molly tucked the yawning boy, who could hardly keep his eyes open, into bed.
"She…she wasn't too happy with us, for the way we treated you," Arthur admitted.
"You weren't bad to me," Jakob disagreed, "You were just sad is all. I'm sorry my daddy was a bad man."
The Weasleys exchanged another long look. Arthur nodded to Molly.
"Jakob, we'd like to keep you, if … if you'll have us?" Molly whispered, smoothing his hair and nodding as she sniffled.
"You really want to be my new mum and dad?" Jakob's eyes widened. "You want me to stay?!"
"It doesn't matter what your dad did," Arthur assured him, "He did it – not you!"
Jakob threw his blankets back and flung himself at the surprised couple, sobbing as they both made to catch him up in a hug.
"I love you, Mummy, Daddy!" He cried, but these were now tears of pure joy.
And so it was, on that Mother Night, that Jakob Dolohov fell asleep, contented as only a lost child who had finally come home could be.
Downstairs, no one was still up to see the hand of the clock that bore Jakob's picture moving to "home".
In the dream, he was dashing through a solid brick wall at a bit of a run, pushing a trolley with a steamer trunk labeled "JFW", a few smaller bags, and a snowy white owl in a gilded cage. Before him stood a magnificent scarlet steam engine, and the platform was mobbed with children and parents saying farewell through the clouds of smoke and steam. "ALL ABOARD!" The conductor was yelling.
Jakob's parents were kissing him goodbye, but as he boarded the Hogwarts Express, he turned to see that they were people he didn't know.
Molly and Arthur Weasley weren't there.
Jakob blinked.
The strangers were gone, and in their place stood a pair of new strangers, waving to him and smiling. His mum was crying, and although Jakob didn't know her, she seemed somehow familiar. He knew that she was "Mum".
"But Mummy, what if I am put in Slytherin?" Jakob called back to them, as the doors began sliding closed all along the train.
"It doesn't matter which House you make," Molly Weasley called up to him. "We'll always be proud of you!"
"Oy! Watch it now!" An older boy called, grabbing Jakob's shoulder and pulling him in as the door slid shut. "Almost lost your nose, there!"
Jakob turned to see Cameron Avery, so much taller, and looking splendid in his green and silver trimmed robes. A shining Prefect's badge glittered on his left breast, just above the embroidered emblem of a serpent. "Wondered if you were going to make it, Jake! Can you find a cabin? I have to go to a meeting with the other Prefects, you see!"
Jakob nodded. He was near the back of the train as the conductor in a blue suit called out "Tickets, tickets!" greeting each student happily as his blue eyes twinkled behind his half-moon spectacles. His long white beard was tucked neatly into his shirt.
"Are you ready, Jakob?" The old man asked him, his eyes twinkling as if he weren't telling the boy all of it.
"I'll…I'll miss them, sir," Jakob admitted. "Do I have to go?"
The old man looked melancholy. "No, you don't have to go, my boy," he replied, "But think of all the others, if you don't."
"The others, on the platform, what sent me off? I didn't know them, sir?" Jakob asked.
"But you will," the old man nodded, leading the boy to a cabin where three other children were just introducing themselves.
"If I don't go, those parents will never come to Kings Cross, will they?" Jakob asked.
"No, they will not," the conductor confirmed. "The choice is yours, my boy." He slid the door open, and then he was gone.
"Are we going to be enemies, then?" A small white-blond boy was asking, and a boy with messy black hair and glasses was shaking his head and laughing. The ginger bushy-haired girl seated with them was musing about how it would all just drive their parents absolutely wild! "Dad said to beat you at everything!" She laughed at the first boy, who smiled back.
"Do you mind?" Jakob asked. "Everywhere else is full up?"
"Not at all!" The blond boy replied.
"Anything from the trolley, dears?" A young witch in a lavender robe asked them.
Ron had been true to his word when he'd told Jakob that he hadn't seen the half of it. On his first trip out since his illness, Jakob went Christmas shopping in Diagon Alley with Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione. Hermione would be leaving to spend Christmas Eve with her parents, but she promised to return to the Burrow on Christmas morning to see them all again. Jakob found himself to be somewhat of a celebrity, almost as much as Harry was, as people he didn't even know spoke words of congratulations to him.
After an exciting ride at Gringotts, their first stop was Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, which was packed. George distracted the boy while the others secretly picked out gifts for him.
"Wouldn't it be cool," Jakob mused, after telling George all about his first tree trimming, "If you could put all the decorations all in one magical box, that would shoot them all out and up the tree? I got quite nauseous, being levitated, you know!"
"You mean like a Christmas bomb?" George laughed, "A Christmas box? Jar? Crock? No, wait!" His eyes went wide and he snapped his fingers. "Christmas in a can! CANNED CHRISTMAS!" He then declared, tousling the boy's hair, which no one had ever thought to get cut. "Jakob, you're a genius!"
And so the next few days were filled with more covert shopping, wrapping of gifts, trying to hide said gifts from whom they were for, and receiving cards either by owl post or Floo. In fact, sitting in front of the fireplace had become a bit dangerous, as you could get whacked in the head with a flying card if you weren't careful! The kitchen at the Burrow was a flurry of cooking, as holiday well-wishers came and went. The preparations seemed never ending, and Jakob was quite taken by it all.
"But what about the other kids at the shelter?" Jakob asked, on Christmas Eve morning, taking in the sight of the tree, the piles of presents, and the wonderful smells of so many different foods.
"Don't worry about them, Jake," Harry assured him. "Miss Thimblebrass, Andromeda, and Kreacher have that all under control."
"I hope Cam likes his dragon," Jakob nodded. "I miss him."
"I'm sure he'll love it," Arthur assured him, looking at his finger and shaking his head. "And good riddance!" He whispered to Harry.
Later that evening, Jakob was surprised to see so many people arriving for the much-anticipated party. Bill and Fleur arrived from France. Charlie, who was happy to talk about dragons with Jakob, arrived alone – much to his mother's chagrin. George and Angelina came with many more presents, all wrapped in pink and yellow paper. Percy arrived with Audrey, whom Jakob had never met. Harry, Ron and Ginny were there, of course, and even Hagrid came with his dog, Fang, to report that no students were staying at Hogwarts this Christmas. Jakob was a bit frightened by Professor Minerva McGonagall, who arrived with Mrs. Tonks and Teddy, but that made her all right in his book. Even the portly Professor Slughorn was mightily impressed with Jakob, and deemed him a worthy future Slug Club member.
Jakob was most impressed with Kreacher, though, who praised him (when no one was listening) for "protecting the Heir."
After an impressive meal, where everyone ate more than was probably good for them, it was time to unwrap presents. Most of these were directed to Jakob and Teddy, and the adults seemed to be more interested in watching them than they were in their own gifts. Teddy was more interested in chewing on the wrapping paper, and crawling inside the empty boxes, however.
As a model of the Hogwarts Express ran around the base of the tree on a circular track, puffing smoke and whistling now and again, Jakob continued to open his seemingly unending supply of gifts. He was delighted with his rainbow colored jumper, which bore a shining "J" in silver metallic yarn on the front. He put it on at once, discarding his orange hoodie in favor of it.
"Maybe I'll get my Cannons duvet back now," Ron mused.
Jakob's favorite present, by far, was a small sled from Percy, complete with a Cushioning Charm in case of a crash.
"Now if it would just snow!" The boy declared, looking around at all the faces smiling back at him.
"I was going to wait until tomorrow," Percy then spoke up, handing Jakob an envelope that reminded him of the one he'd found that fateful night on the kitchen table, "But I think we'd best not wait!"
Jakob took the envelope from him, staring at it for a moment. He looked up at Arthur and Molly, who nodded to him. Jakob tore it open to find only one paper in it, and it was full of small print – words that didn't make a whole lot of sense to him. Things decreed by so-and-so in the matter of the foundling child, and some different dates, child identified as 'Jakob Lukas Dolohov'…blah blah blah…
But at the bottom, Jakob read:
…shall hereby be known from this day forward as:
Jakob Frederick "Jack" Weasley
"Am I a real Weasley now, then?" Jakob asked of Molly and Arthur.
Molly could only nod as Arthur lifted the boy up to them to hold him as Jakob cried.
"So this is Christmas?" Jakob finally managed, and his parents could only nod in reply.
Then the clock struck eleven.
The hand bearing Jakob's image still pointed to "home".
"Look out the window," George called out to them all, firing a ball of light from his wand that flew out the window to light up the entire lawn of the Burrow, hovering like a small sun above the trees.
"SNOW!" Jakob screamed, springing from his parents' embrace to run to the window to stare in wonder. "This is the best present ever!"
"Did you do that?" Andromeda whispered to Minerva.
But Professor McGonagall just shook her head. "There are some things that even magic cannot explain," she wondered, as the snow continued to fall, blanketing the Burrow in a coating of white.
"Best alert Madame Pomfrey," Harry announced, as Jakob grabbed up his sled and bolted for the door.
"HAT AND COAT AND BOOTS!" Molly shouted at him, and Jakob stopped. "You'll be too ill in the morning to open the rest of your gifts!"
"You mean there's MORE!?" Jakob exclaimed, his face a study in wonder. "But how will I ever get to sleep tonight, then?!"
Everyone laughed.
It was nearly midnight when Jakob got his answer. He was so tired from all the excitement that he had to be carried back inside by Hagrid after giving his sled a thorough breaking-in under George's light. He reluctantly left his beloved sled just inside the kitchen door. Guests were taking their leave, but Jakob hardly noticed this as he was carried upstairs to a hot bath, then put to bed. As he clutched Mr. Stuffings to his side, the last thing he remembered before drifting off was his mother kissing his forehead and saying, "I love you, Jakob Weasley," as his father turned down the light.
"Jakob? Jakob, wake up," someone was saying, and the boy felt a gentle shake to his shoulder.
He opened his eyes to see his room shining in warm golden light that seemed to come from everywhere, and yet nowhere at the same time.
"Is it time already?" Jakob whispered, hoping to not awaken anyone else.
"I'm afraid so, my boy," the old man in the blue robe answered, his long white beard seeming to move in a nonexistent breeze.
Jakob sat up and looked out his widow for a long while, watching the gently falling snow.
Then the snow stopped.
He nodded and got out of bed.
"What awful pyjamas! I rather like it!" The old man commented, taking the boy's hand.
Jakob paused to tuck Mr. Stuffings back in, then kissed the old bear's nose. One single tear ran down the boy's cheek, vanishing into the bear's plush muzzle.
"I think he's still got a few years left in him," the old man nodded. "You won't be the last child to love him."
"I won't be the last child they love, either," Jakob sniffled. "Will I, sir?"
The old man shook his head. "No, Jakob. This house will have many more children pass through its doors, each with his or her own special needs, that can only be met here."
"They'll miss me," Jakob shook his head. "I don't want them to be sad anymore!" He cried.
"They'll only be sad for a very short while, Jakob," the old man assured him, "For they have much more happiness yet to come." He paused to look around the room, at the piles of gifts.
"I should write a thank-you letter," Jakob then decided, and the old man produced a parchment and quill from his pocket, allowing the boy time to do that in his hard-to-read little boy printing. Then he got his crayons out and made a card in which to enclose it.
A snowy owl came to tap at the window, and Jakob gave her the card and letter. The old man smiled.
Then he took Jacob's hand again.
The boy looked up at him with trusting eyes.
Outside the window of the dark and empty room, now inhabited by only a solitary old teddy bear, stars sparkled upon the new fallen snow.
Arthur didn't know what had awakened him. As he sat up in bed, he looked around the room, blinking. It was dark, of course, and he didn't even have a headache. That in itself, given the boisterous Christmas Eve party, made no sense to him. He checked the clock, which read "five-eleven," and decided to just stay up. In fact, he wondered if he might be the very first one up! Feeling a bit childish himself, he carefully made his way to Jakob's room to see if he could rouse the boy.
"Jakob?" He called softly, noting the soft snores coming from Ron's room.
He pushed the door open and turned on the light.
"NO!" Arthur gasped, staring around the cold, empty room in shock.
The furniture was still there, of course, but all the gifts were gone. The only inhabitant of the bed, he saw as he stumbled in, was Mr. Stuffings. The old bear was tucked in under the scarlet and gold duvet. Arthur yanked it back, and the bed was cool to the touch.
Mr. Stuffings didn't move.
Arthur looked in the closet and bureau, both of which were empty. Other than Ron's old bear, the room looked to be exactly as Percy had left it, just as it had before Jakob had come.
He pulled his wand, but spell after spell told him nothing.
He closed the door, looked in again, but the room was still empty.
"Molly," he shook her awake, upon returning to their room. "Molly?"
"Oh, can't you wait a bit, boys?" Molly grumbled, rolling back over.
"Molly, wake up! It's Jakob!" Arthur insisted.
Molly sat upright at once, instantly awake.
"What…what is it, dear?" She breathed, noting the look on her husband's face that she'd seen only once before.
Her face paled at the sight of it.
"Jakob's gone!" Arthur cried, sitting down on the bed and taking her hands in his.
"Gone? What do you mean he's GONE?!" Molly shouted, which aroused the rest of the Burrow at once.
"The room's empty," Arthur shook his head. "It's all gone. I…I woke up first, I wanted to be the one to…to see his face…when he…HE'S GONE, MOLLY! The bloody room's just as empty as when Percy left it! It's like Jakob was never even there!" He cried.
Molly was out of bed in a flash, grabbing up her wand. In a second, she magically switched into being dressed, dragging Arthur down the hall with her where they bumped into the others.
"Wha's wrong?" a bleary Ron wondered, as they followed them to Jakob's room.
"Mum?" Ginny begged, taking in the look on her face, "What is it?"
The room was empty.
"Jakob?" Molly breathed, unable to believe what she was seeing.
The room looked exactly as it had before she'd cleaned it.
"But…where is he?" Harry wondered, moving to take her arm. "There's the bear?"
Molly went to the unused bed, cool to the touch, where Mr. Stuffings lay. She clutched the bear to her breast, shaking her head. "We have to find him!" She then declared in a broken voice, and the Weasleys plus Harry scattered to action.
In minutes, magic was flying all about the Burrow and surrounding grounds. But spell after spell revealed nothing.
As they all made for the front door, they stopped.
Jakob's sled was gone.
There was no wind. It was no longer snowing.
Harry bent down to examine the unbroken snow. Then he looked up and saw it: there was a wide track, perhaps left by the sled, which went on down the hill for a ways…and vanished. There was no sled to be seen at the base of the hill.
There were no footprints in the snow.
From inside, Ginny screamed.
They found her in the kitchen, standing with a few Christmas cards in her hands and pointing at Jakob's last drawing on the icebox door.
But instead of a Christmas tree made of many green handprints, the paper was blank.
"The…the cards! Read the cards!" Ginny exclaimed, which were all signed "To: Arthur, Molly, Ron & Ginny." None mentioned Jakob.
"MUM!" Ron called from the sitting room, where he was pointing at the Christmas tree, where amongst the presents, sat an empty watering can. "The new ornaments? The dragon? The plums? They're all gone!" Ron exclaimed, bending down to examine the gifts. "And not a one of these is to Jakob! Even the toy broomstick's gone!"
At the top of the Christmas tree, the hands of Molly's angel covered her face, her head bowed as if weeping.
"Look at the portraits?!" Harry then pointed to the mantelpiece.
On the end of the row of pictures of the Weasley children plus Harry and Teddy, there sat a frame with no picture.
Molly summoned it, tearing the brown craft paper from the back. She tore out the backing, and dropped the glass. It shattered on the floor as she held out a white 8x10" blank photo.
"WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE?!" Molly screamed, just as there came a tapping at the window.
Harry gasped, his eyes wide, as he let in a familiar snowy owl. The bird dropped a Christmas card, nipped his ear once, and then vanished back into the white landscape.
Harry stared after it, unable to believe what he'd seen.
"Hedwig?!" He cried after her.
But the owl was gone.
Molly tore open the envelope, and the card was of an evergreen tree in the snow, undecorated.
"The letter! Read the letter, Mum!" Ginny gasped.
Molly sat down in her chair, glancing up to see the dusty little desk in the corner where Jakob had sat to do his schoolwork and draw his pictures. There were two short stacks of blank parchment there, and a full inkbottle. But all the papers in the 'done' folder were blank when Arthur checked them.
With trembling hands, she opened the letter, addressed so:
To: The Weasley FamilyThe Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole
Christmas Morning
And choking back sobs, yet somehow smiling at the same time, she read it aloud:
Dear Molly and Arthur:
By the time the owl brings this letter, I'll be gone.
I'm sorry that it has to be this way, but don't worry about me. Somewhere out there is another Mummy and Daddy who need me, and I have to go and find them. Please don't come looking for me, I know you want to, but that would spoil it all for them. Besides, I don't think you'd be able to find me anyway. I don't think it works like that, and I know you wouldn't want someone else to miss out on what we've had these past few months.
I'm sorry I won't be there for you to take me to Platform 9 ¾ to send me off to Hogwarts, but maybe someday, I'll get there somehow. It might be next year, it might be last year. I know I will; I dreamed it on that special night. I might already be there, in fact. It might even be before you and Arthur go yourselves.
I don't know how they do that, honestly. But I don't think time means anything to someone who hurts so badly.
I must go where I am needed. You see, that is what I do.
I know you wanted to see a Hogwarts owl coming with a letter telling you that I made Gryffindor, or like you said, any of the other Houses – even Slytherin. You don't realize it yet, but that one honest feeling will change the world someday.
I know you won't know who I'm talking about, and I can't say any more about that, but Albus will need you to remember that. Tell him, just like you told me. And when he cries, wipe away his tears like you did mine.
Maybe that's why I came to you first, when I didn't know anything.
Maybe they thought you would be the best teachers I could have.
I think you were.
I dunno why bad things happen to good people like you. I don't know why you had to go through so much: losing Fabian and Gideon, losing Fred in the Final Battle, worrying about Harry and Ron and the lot of them in that awful year on the run, scared to death over Ginny, and losing so many friends along the way.
But like you showed me, in time, you have to let go of those terrible things that hurt you. That much you taught me, when I started to realize who I was and what I would have become if I hadn't found you.
You see, Mummy, Daddy, I didn't know when I came to you who I was. I only knew I was drawn to you, because some things have to happen. Sometimes, there are things that have to happen that can't happen, because something got in their way.
There are kids without parents now, and parents without kids. There are kids who won't even be born now, because of the War. And there were kids left so wounded inside by all that happened, that they forgot how to love – like some part of them was ripped out and blown away on the wind.
I think that's worse than never even being born – living without loving.
But you showed me that…again. Even when you reluctantly took in a strange child who was not your own. You showed me love. You showed me who I was.
I heard you asking the lady at the shelter who I was, and she didn't rightly know, remember? No, you're not nutters.
To some of them, I never even existed.
But now I know who I am, and I know what I was sent here to do.
I am the patiently waiting Soul of the child who will never be born.
I am those broken bits of those who now might find someone to love them again.
I am the spirit of all those children who died.
I am the orphan child's cries in the night, or the mother's tears at dawn when she buries her child.
I am the grief that a father keeps inside, because he has to be the strong one.
I hope I am the last of them.
Most of all, though, I am the hopes and dreams for tomorrow's children.
So long as there are people like you and Daddy around, I know that someday, I will become what you have already had so much of – what so many out there wish for.
Perhaps I will even be the miracle for those who now cannot.
It's not easy to leave, I so very much want to stay, but if I don't go, there might be another child out there, somewhere, who will never come to exist.
There will be mummies and daddies who'll never get to go to Platform 9 ¾.
But thanks to you, Jakob Lukas Dolohov got to exist after all, even if only for one brief season.
Again, please don't try to find me. I don't know where I'm going, but I know it'll be a good place, maybe even as good as The Burrow.
But keep watching, and you might see me somewhere, sometimes.
I might be the excited child being chosen by his wand the first time in Ollivander's. Or I might be the child who's just happy to be going off to school in his secondhand Gladrags robes. I'll probably be the child who's thrilled to have a bag full of Every-Flavor Beans, even if most of them are spinach, liver, and tripe – or even a bogey flavored one! I might be the seemingly spoiled child, you know, the one you never see crying because he already has it all.
I might even be the child you don't really notice in the aisle of the Hogwarts Express, you know, that one with the grin that just tells you he's about to get into trouble?
I will miss you.
Thank you for taking care of me when I was sick.
Thank you for Christmas.
Thank you for loving me.
Always remember that I love you.
Goodbye, for now…
'Jack'PS – Fred sends his love
When she put the letter down, Molly wept.
Arthur knelt beside her, a hand over his face, trembling.
"H-he…he's gone," Molly finally managed, handing the letter off to Ginny to read again.
There was a knock at the door.
The clock struck six.
They all looked at it to see only six hands again, all of them reading "home".
The hand for Jakob was gone.
"Happy Christmas!" Hermione called from the doorway, levitating a large red sack and looking like some younger and perhaps skinnier Mrs. Santa Claus. Then she saw their faces.
"What's wrong?" She gasped, running to Ron's side, where Ginny showed her the letter.
"Jakob's gone!" Ginny cried.
"Who?" Hermione wondered.
They all stared at her.
"Jakob?" Ron reminded her, taking her arm. "Are you mad? The little boy that Mum and Dad adopted? Shaggy hair, few freckles, 'bout so tall? Eight or nine?" He held his other hand out. "Got sick, almost died? From the shelter?"
Hermione shook her head blankly.
"The Death Eater kid?" Ron flat out said it. "Jakob Lukas Dolohov? War orphan?"
Hermione looked at all the tear-stained faces around her, and for the life of her, she had no idea what they were all on about.
"Ronald," She informed him, confused, "Antonin Dolohov was arrested in 1981, after the murder of Harry's parents and the fall of Voldemort. He was in Azkaban Prison until 1996, escaping in the mass breakout with Bellatrix LeStrange and the lot! If Antonin Dolohov had a child, he could only be about two years old, at the very most, now? Don't you remember it from your Auror classes, Harry?" She turned to him.
Harry's face changed in realization. "She's right!" He agreed. "Dolohov couldn't have had a child that old!"
"But you were here!" Ginny cut in. "How can you not remember him, Hermione? You took him shopping with all of us!"
"She wasn't here," Ron then reasoned, pointing at the floor, as his parents looked on, "She left before Christmas Eve. She wasn't here – in this house – when Jakob…left…this morning. Only the people in the Burrow remember him," Ron nodded sadly.
"Children don't just vanish into thin air!" Arthur protested. "Are you saying he was some kind of …of ghost?"
"Ghosts don't get sick, or eat like he did," Molly disagreed, taking back the letter and clutching it to her breast, before handing it off to Hermione.
Hermione made to read it, but the letter was blank.
"But it's just there, in all that kid-print?" Harry stabbed at the letter with his finger. "Hedwig brought it!"
Hermione gave him a long look.
"She can't see it," Ginny wondered, taking the letter back as new tears ran down her cheeks. "Ron's right. She wasn't here."
"We have to look, we have to ask around!" Arthur said desperately, getting up to throw on his boots and coat. "All those folks who saw him!"
"He said we can't find him, and to not try," Molly wondered, sounding to her children very much like Luna Lovegood, and no longer near hysterical. In fact, she looked as if she'd just had an epiphany. "He said not to come looking, don't you see?!"
"Boys, you're with me," Arthur ordered them, as they dressed. "Girls, you get on the Floo and call around! See if anyone's seen him!"
They stopped at the shed first, and they were greeted by a pristine white VW Beetle. It was in mint condition, other than the fact that it had four flat tires. Arthur inflated them with a flick of his wand, and they got in to drive madly through the snow to the Lovegoods'.
"Dad, wasn't the body rotting off of it, when you drove it the first time?" Ron asked, and Arthur could only nod.
"XENO!" Arthur banged on the door when they arrived. "It's Arthur Weasley, your neighbor!"
The Lovegoods came to the door, looking perplexed, which wasn't unusual.
"Happy Christmas, Weasleys, Harry!" Luna greeted them. "Gurdyroot tea?" she offered.
"I hate that stuff!" Ron snapped.
"That's them," Xeno nodded. "Come in!"
"Listen, we don't have much time," Arthur explained. "Jakob's gone missing! Has he been here?"
"Who?" Xeno asked.
"The little boy you interviewed for the cover story of the December issue of the Quibbler?" Harry reminded him.
"You mean Cameron Avery?" Xeno corrected him, handing him a copy.
On the cover was Cameron Avery, Jakob's friend. He was sitting near a bright window, and his hand was moving over a chessboard. The caption read:
SOMEWHERE I BELONG?
MEET CAMERON & THE ORPHANS OF WARNo One Wants a Mini-Death Eater?
"They weren't there, Dad," Ron reminded him, and it looked as if his theory were proving true.
"Arthur, I recall that the Avery boy was going to be placed in care, but he got sick and he's been in St. Mungo's with pneumonia ever since?" Xeno informed him.
"But…Luna, you were there, at the Burrow last night?" Harry persisted. "Jakob gave you a Dirigible Plum ornament that he made?"
"Harry, I remember just perfectly! We had cocoa and biscuits, your Floo is full of Nargles, and we played with baby Teddy!" Luna told them.
They all just stared at her.
"Right, then," Arthur conceded, glancing at Ron, who nodded. "Sorry to trouble you!"
"No trouble at all," Luna showed them to the door.
When they were gone, she turned back to their stubby Christmas tree and reached out to touch a shining handmade yellow ornament that looked like a plum. As the ribbon holding it broke, it floated up to the ceiling. "That's so strange," Luna observed.
At St. Mungo's, as a clock in the receiving room softly chimed seven, Cameron Avery awoke in the children's ward to find a pile of presents at the foot of his bed. He blinked, realizing that his chest didn't hurt and that he wasn't gasping for breath. He pulled the oxygen mask from his face, breathed deeply, and sighed. He realized that he was actually hungry as he leaned up to examine his gifts. "But who would send me presents?" He wondered with a pang, knowing that his family was all gone.
The first one was lumpy, wrapped in green foil paper with a small snake of a tag that waggled its tongue out at him. He tore it open to find the most garish one-piece jumper-pyjama "thing" that he had ever seen. He studied it for a bit, and since he was a bit chilly, and his flimsy gown was very thin and open in the back, he put it on. It was a perfect fit. It was soft and warm, and for some reason, it made him think of home. The next was a yellow and pink package, quite large, and filled with a treasure trove of various WWW products. Cameron looked around, quickly ate a Puking Pastille and the antidote, then hid the rest under his pillow before a nurse saw them!
The next box was quite small, and when he opened it, a toy dragon came flying out to land on his shoulder and nuzzle at his neck. It was a Hungarian Horntail, he saw, and the next package was a book called Darling Dragons. The tag read, simply, 'from Jack'.
"But who's Jack?" Cameron wondered, just as his door opened and a doctor walked in, accompanied by Percy Weasley and two people that Cameron already knew. They were all shocked at the sight of him, but no one protested. In fact, they all waited until he was done opening his presents. His last one was a colorful jumper with a "J" knitted on the front, but it changed into a "C" when he touched it.
Percy Weasley nodded knowingly. "Lucius, Narcissa, if you'll just sign here, and initial there," he handed them a clipboard. "It looks like your boy here is finally ready to go home!"
"No one remembers him," Molly sniffed, as the men had returned home and put the VW away again. Arthur told her all about the visit with the Lovegoods. "But we all rode to the village in it!" Molly reminded him. "Jakob was so proud he'd helped you get it going!"
Ginny shook her head. "We've called everyone, Dad! Professor McGonagall, Slughorn, Hagrid, even Mrs. Tonks," she informed them, "No one remembers Jakob! Not even Madame Pomfrey!"
"I know someone who will!" Arthur jerked his head up, his eyes wild. He ran to the Floo. "Charity Burbage Shelter for Displaced Magical Children! Hogsmeade Village, Felicia Thimblebrass, please!" He called into the green flames.
"That location is no longer in service," a somewhat automated voice informed him.
"Harry! You're the DADA teacher, can you get us to Hogwarts?" Arthur demanded. "We're in no fit state for Apparating so far!"
Harry nodded and activated the Floo, still looking a bit rattled himself. "Where are we going from there?" He had to ask.
"To see why the shelter's closed!" Molly surmised, as they all vanished up the Floo.
They arrived at Hogwarts, taking a carriage to the village, but were met with an empty and boarded up storefront where the shelter should have been. There was a sign that read: "Thank you all for your kindness in finding homes for these unfortunate children! – Kingsley Shacklebolt, Minister of Magic."
"Do you mean to tell me that none of it was real?" Molly wondered. "Where's Miss Thimblebrass gone, then? Shouldn't they have forwarded our Floo call to her? And what about the donations?"
"Molly, do you mean Felicia Thimblebrass?" Hermione asked, looking as if she'd just aced a final. Molly nodded. "Molly, Felicia was the child of Muggleborns. They…they vanished…during the war. They've been missing and presumed dead for over a year?"
"Then who was running this place?" Arthur waved at the boarded up door. "It was bloody well here last August!"
Hermione looked at them all. "Percy," She shrugged. "No one else wanted to do it. If anyone could find homes for all those orphaned Slytherin kids, it was Percy! Don't you remember reading his piece in the Quibbler?"
"I remember Jakob's story!" Ginny disagreed, "About how he was afraid that we didn't want him anymore!"
"The files!" Molly then exclaimed, "The files on the Dolohovs! We still have them!"
And so they headed back to Hogwarts to Floo home.
"Ah hah!" Arthur exclaimed, as he opened the damning folder.
It was full of blank papers - even Jakob's birth certificate was a blank.
It was as if Jakob Lukas Dolohov…Jakob Frederick Weasley…had never even existed.
"This is all very strange," Hermione stated clinically, as she tried to fathom it all. "You adopted a child of parents who couldn't have possibly had a child so old, as they were in prison, and you claim that we all saw him, but that only those here this morning can remember him? And the lady who set up this whole mess is someone who's been missing for over a year – someone who never even ran that shelter? And all the documents pertaining to Jakob are now blank? Even photos of him?" She turned to Harry. "And you claim that Hedwig brought this letter?" She held up Jakob's letter, which to her, was nothing more than a blank bit of parchment.
"Never mind, Hermione," Ron rolled his eyes.
"He was real!" Molly then said knowingly, "But his letter said he had to go…I…I think his work here was done, don't you?" She asked wistfully, turning to Arthur. "There was nothing left for him to teach us."
She then looked at her remaining children, not really children anymore.
The Burrow was neither quiet nor empty on that Christmas morning.
"Presents!" She then exclaimed happily, placing Jakob's Christmas card on the tree.
In a lonely forest somewhere to the north, covered in new fallen snow, a lonely little pinkish-purple plum ornament dangled in the breeze on the branch of a short spruce tree. Beneath its sheltering boughs, a mouse carried a scrap of faded lavender cloth back to her home.
Later than night, as Molly sat listening to the WWN, a children's choir sang a familiar tune. "The Coventry Carol," She sighed.
Lullay, Thou little tiny Child,
By, by, lully, lullay.
Lullay, Thou little tiny Child.
By, by, lully, lullay.
When the song was finished, she switched off the radio.
The Burrow was quiet.
The clock ticked on.
In her hand, she clutched Jakob's letter. She arose to place it in her copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, at the beginning of Babbitty Rabbitty, where it would remain for nineteen years, until another letter came – which didn't surprise Molly at all: Dear Gran, I just wanted to write and tell you… I've been Sorted into Slytherin with… James didn't take it well at all…Scorpius says hello…Love, Albus.
December 26th, Boxing Day, 1998
Northampton, England.
"I think this is the place," the old man in the blue robe announced, his white beard blowing in the cold wind.
"I think you're right," the young witch in a lavender robe agreed.
"Go on, now!" They encouraged the small boy walking down the sidewalk between them, releasing his hands from theirs.
A small fist knocked on a door, where there hung no wreath. There were no signs of Christmas decorations being up, or being taken down. In fact, the house seemed very quiet and sad, with only one light to be seen in a lower window. Gray clouds scudded across the winter sky overhead, and as the door opened, a thin ray of sunlight fell across the unkempt reddish-brown hair of a little boy. He stood there on the step, dressed in a gray traveling cloak and plain trousers. He carried no baggage, seeming to have turned up on this particular doorstep simply because the cold winter wind had blown him there. He looked at the name on the postbox: Brown.
The homeowners, a middle-aged man and woman, stared at him for a moment as if unsure what to do about a lone child on their doorstep.
"Hello, my name is Jack!" The little boy introduced himself with a lopsided smile.
And since it was quite cold out, the Browns invited him in.
THE END