Author's Note:
First off, many thanks to merdarkandtwisty for the reviews. I deeply appreciate it, and hope you enjoy this installment.
This is the first non-history based chapter, but I thought a semi-touching holiday story would be appropriate for the day.
If you want to get into the holiday spirit even more, then I'd suggest listening to these two wonderful wizard rock Christmas songs, being "Hogwarts is Home for Christmas" by The Brothers Black and "Christmas at Hogwarts" by Hungry Hungry Hippogriffs. The former can be found on YouTube, and the latter, bandcamp.
If any errors are present, let me know, and I will deal with them promptly.
With that, I wish everyone reading a happy holiday, and I hope you enjoy the chapter.
I do not own Harry Potter. There are a few original ideas in this chapter, but they're all done with the framework J.K. Rowling laid down, so I owe her my deepest gratitude.
She was going to cry.
She felt the urge coming, but in a hopeless attempt, she fought against the tears. They came regardless.
It was chilly in the Owlery, but Emily couldn't face her peers back in the common room at the moment. Instead, she absent-mindedly wiped away her tears with the sleeve of her robes, glancing out to the grounds.
No doubt, it was beautiful. The snow had lightly fallen throughout the previous night, and it coated the whole of the grounds. Some places, the snow was inches deep, but for the most part, it looked to be a calm Christmas for all those few who remained at Hogwarts.
Like me, she thought glumly.
And that destroyed her. She knew coming to Hogwarts wouldn't be easy; never having been away from her parents for more than a week, much less months at a time, Emily knew it would be a struggle. What she didn't know is that for the past year, her parents had been arguing on-and-off, and only by a clinically-written letter she received two weeks prior did she learn that she couldn't come back home for the holidays. Her parents were separating, and they needed time alone to work on the legal details.
The letter, written by her mother, had ended in "With love," but that didn't fool Emily; if her parent's loved her, they wouldn't insist she stay at school over Christmas, and they wouldn't just split up because things had been rough for a little.
And yet, they were, and for the first time in her life, Emily would be spending Christmas alone.
She lowered her head in her hands, still chilly, but oddly, feeling as though being around an open flame wouldn't help much in the way of warming her. She also felt more tears leak from her eyes. Emily felt lost, unsure of even the most basic facts of her life. One thing she did know, though, was that the old hat was wrong; there wasn't a brave bone in her body.
Emily remained in the Owlery until it got too cold. Though doubting it would help much, she walked in the direction of the Great Hall, as it was just about close to the time dinner was to be served.
Christmas is tomorrow, she considered to herself, her stomach filled with butterflies, and there's no one here I can even talk to. None of the girls in my year like me, and everyone else in the common room ignores me.
Her grades were far from poor, but even so, the professors felt so impersonal to her, save some gentle smiles from Professor Sprout and Flitwick.The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is just sorta there, she began listing in her head, walking in the direction she hope would lead her to the Great Hall, I don't even remember her name. Madam Hooch seems okay, but she's so stern, like McGonagall. Sinistra offered her a few smiles, but her eyes were always cold. Professor Binns couldn't tell me apart from a seventh year, and Professor Snape…
Emily physically shuddered, not wanting to think of that professor any more than she had to. Fortunately, however, another thought took hold, as she turned down a hallway which she was sure she'd not seen before.
Oh, great, she thought miserably, looking around for an indication of where she was. Like my day wasn't bad enough. Now I won't be able to get dinner, and I'll be lost for hours, and people will have to find me because I'm just a pathetic little-
"Excuse me," came a jolly voice from above her.
Emily jumped as a portly, round ghost in robes glided down to her. She backed up a little, but once she took notice of the kindly smile he wore, she felt a bit safer.
"Ye-yes," she asked, stumbling over her words.
"Are you lost, my dear Gryffindor," the ghost inquired politely. "If so, I'd be delighted to take you to wherever you wish to go."
Emily looked down, her face reddening. "I was trying to get to the Great Hall," she mumbled.
A gentle chuckle caused Emily to look up. The ghost wasn't frowning, nor did he examine her with a critical look whatsoever.
"That's quite all right, dear. Follow me," he said, and as he drifted back the way she came, Emily followed. He carried on speaking, his tone one of unhampered happiness. "When I was but a lad, I'd get lost all the time. It was only once I discovered where the kitchens are that I finally got my bearings."
His smile grew wider as Emily took this in, and then giggled. "What House were you in?"
"Hufflepuff," the ghost replied fondly, looking forward in the hall they were walking, but Emily was sure he was really looking back on his past. "Better friends and people I would never quite meet. Oh, a few of them are on portraits scattered throughout the castle, so it's not all bad."
They reached the main stairs suddenly, surprising Emily. "Well, um," she began awkwardly, looking at the ghost, "thank you."
He waved his hands as if to say it was no problem. "If you ever need assistance again, ask a portrait for the Fat Friar, and I'll be there quicker than a Snidget in a snowstorm," he nodded his head gently, and floated through a nearby wall.
Emily smiled, but then it faltered without warning. If only everyone else could be as nice as he was, she thought darkly, moving down the stairs.
Her mood hadn't improved, and unbeknownst to Emily, she had again lost sense of her surroundings, and promptly ended up… outside?
"Oof," she exclaimed, moving the branches out of her face. Why was there a tree in the hallway, she considered incredulously.
"Gallopin' Gorgons," exclaimed a rough voice, and the tree was immediately shifted to the side, revealing to Emily the groundskeeper, a large, somewhat frightening man. "Shoulda seen yer there," the man spoke apologetically.
"It's okay," she replied weakly, bending her neck in order to look up at him, seeing his concerned face. "Really, I'm fine."
"Tha's good, tha's good," he said sincerely. "Yer here fer th' feast, right?"
Emily meekly nodded her head, though even at the time, she felt foolish doing so. This man clearly wasn't as bad as Filch and his devil-cat were.
"Couldn't'a bin anything else," the man smiled. "Me name's Hagrid, jus' s' yeh know."
"Nice to meet you," Emily replied brightly, though she felt as though she wasn't doing a good job of hiding her inner feelings, as a small frown formed on Hagrid's face.
"Yeh sure yer fine? Gryffindor or not, ev'ryone has a bad day ev'ry once 'n a while. Pretendin' nothin's wrong an' not talkin' 'bout it, well, tha's not gonna help, see?"
When Emily didn't reply for a few seconds, Hagrid continued. "Now, 'ow 'bout this, 'cause yeh look like yeh need it. Once I'm finish'd with this tree, 'ow 'bout yeh come down to me house, an' have a cuppa? An' yeh can talk abou' yer problems or summat? It's more'n yeh can get in th' castle, yeh know, o' 'course."
He eyed her curiously, both sternly, yet kindly, and a small smile came onto her face. "Okay, I'd like that. Um, what about the feast?"
"Jus' grab some food an' go," Hagrid replied, his grin reappearing, only much wider. "Yeh'll not be keepin' food from others, so don' worry on it."
With that in mind, Emily and Hagrid both entered the Great Hall, and five minutes later, left the castle together, out into the snowy twilight.
Lying on her bed on Christmas Eve, Emily was conflicted. Sure, meeting both the ghost and Hagrid had greatly improved her day, but that didn't change the fact that her parents were still splitting up, and she'd be alone most of Christmas (though Hagrid had more than forcefully suggested she come down to his hut around lunch, which was an offer she gladly accepted).
Today wasn't terrible, she admitted to herself, though it felt wrong. She felt as though she should feel bad. Quite simply, though, at this moment, Emily wasn't able to muster it.
Her head on her pillow, her last conscious thought was Hagrid's words to her near the end of the night: "Yer paren's, well, yeh can' solve ev'ry problem, see? Yeh jus' have to concentrate on yehself an' make sure yer happy. Ev'rything else comes after tha'. Don' let anyone else tell yeh somethin' differen'."
The happiness she felt had dissipated by the morning, however. Outside, it was snowing rapidly, and a true blizzard seemed to be what the Christmas day called for the weather. It wasn't until she had sat up on her bed that she noted a small grouping of presents on top of her chest. One, a disheveled, small brown package struck her as curious.
Grabbing that one first, she opened it to find a pair of old, but very comfortable-looking earmuffs, with an attached noted, scribbled hastily:
Thought you might want to keep warm on your way down,
so maybe this will help you out. If you still wanna come down,
better make it one. Bring friends if you want.
Hagrid
Emily smiled at this, but like many of her smiles these past few days, it faltered quickly. What's wrong with me, she pondered miserably, lying back down on her bed.
The common room, despite many people having gone home for the break, was chaotically loud when Emily arrived. A third of them were wearing heavy sweaters, and looked as though they'd just gotten back inside from a snowball fight.
"Blimey, you bloke," said one red-headed boy, second-year, Emily thought, to who she guessed was a much older brother, broad shoulders, of red hair also, "you have a strong arm. Get it from wrestling hippogriffs?"
"Or manticores," the twin of the younger redhead suggested.
"Chimaeras," the other twin added.
"Trolls?"
The older brother chuckled heartedly at this. "Wrong on all counts. Think more fire-breathing."
"Mum," both the twins recited simultaneously, looking horrified at the prospect.
"Maybe I'll tell you over breakfast," the older brother replied, moving toward the doorway leading out of the common room. "Perce is there already, right?"
One of the twins rolled his eyes. "Yep. Poor bloke woke up at five, promptly blew us off, studied until seven, and went down to eat."
"It's as though he wants to be a prefect," the other twin joined in, rolling his own eyes. "His priorities are all messed up."
The older brother frowned slightly at this, but the second twin chimed in quickly. "Nah, you're okay, Charlie. Bill too. It's Percy who's going to be such a prat once he gets his badge."
"You make it sound as though he's not one now," the other twin muttered.
"Too true," the older brother, Charlie, added, "but let's keep that between ourselves, okay? After this next term, I'll only have to see him during Holidays."
"Where will you go," asked one of the twins (Emily honestly couldn't tell them apart, so watching this was beginning to give her a slight headache).
"Yeah, Bill's in Egypt. You going to Hungary?"
"Or Macedonia?"
"Fiji?"
"Wales?"
"Ital-"
"Breakfast. Now," shouted Charlie, though in a good-natured tone. He walked out of the common room, leaving the twins looking at each other.
"Even off the pitch, he can be a right pain in the bum, innit?"
"Too right you are, Fred – too right you are," replied the other twin, grimly.
The two made their way out of the common room, leaving Emily alone with five other House members who she didn't know the first thing about.
Hagrid said making new friends always helps, she considered, sitting down in front of the fireplace, but I don't know how to do that. Just talk to them? Would I even have anything in common with anyone? She doubted it, but Emily knew that Hagrid meant well. Those red-haired brothers seem sorta cool, but would they even think about letting me in their circle? Emily sighed aloud, noting that none of those in the common room took any notice. I guess I could give it a try next term-
Her thoughts were interrupted by two loud voices coming from the portrait.
"-mey, what if someone else got it?"
"Even if they did, they wouldn't know what it was, so it'd be fine."
"But then they'd – chuck it out!"
A pause from the other boy. "If it comes down to it," he began solemnly, "I'll go through every bin in Hogwarts to find it."
The two red-headed twins walked back into the room, and one briefly made eye-contact with Emily. She blushed lightly and turned her head down, yet still taking in their conversation.
"Ah, found it," came one of the twins, excited. "Not moved an inch. Told you it'd be fine."
"Still not worth the risk, you prat," came the reply. "I'd be barmy to leave it lying around somewhere."
"Sod off, you git," said the other twin brightly. "We have it, now pocket it and let's go."
She heard one pair of footsteps moving toward the portrait, but stop almost as suddenly as they began. "You coming, George?" Surprisingly, Emily thought she heard concern in his voice, with a sprinkle of surprise.
"Yeah, just a sec, okay?"
There wasn't a reply back, but Emily heard the portrait open, and she had the distinct feeling only one of the twins was outside of the common room.
"Oi," came a gentle voice. Her eyes flickered upwards toward him, seeing if it was she who was being addressed, and confirmation came with a ",yeah, you."
Lifting her head, she was facing one of the red-headed twins. "Yes," she quietly asked.
The boy looked at her, his voice filled of concerned. "All right, there?"
Emily shrugged, replying, "Yeah, fine, I guess." As if that really convinced him.
"Nah, come on now," the boy said, looking her over, "that's rubbish. I'm George."
He held out his hand and Emily, after a few seconds, took it. "Emily," she replied, not even bothering to hide her current emotional state. "And no, my day's not been going that well."
"You eat yet," George asked, "'cause if not, why don't you come down and eat with us?"
A weak smile formed on her face. "I'd like to, but are you sure I won't get in your way?"
George looked mildly shocked at the thought, and took almost 30 seconds to recover. "What are you on about? Get in the way? You're joking," he said good-naturedly.
"Well, then, sure," Emily said, feeling some of the heaviness lift from her heart. "If you don't mind."
"Nah, I think we'll all be right chuffed to have a new voice in the conversation," George said, leading the way out of the common room. "Oi, Fred," he shouted to his twin brother, "meet Emily – she's going to be eating with us from here on out."
That's not quite what I said, Emily thought, but she knew he was just joking. Most likely.
"Pleased to meet you," Fred said, bowing his head slightly, causing George to snicker aloud. "Oi, you prat," he scowled, "it's called being a gentleman."
George rolled his eyes, and Fred began walking to the staircase. "I'm not daft, you tosser. But really, you, a gentleman? I should write that one back to Ron, and give him a laugh."
"Is he another brother," Emily asked, her voice timid, especially compared to the festive tones in which the twins were talking.
"Yep," George replied quickly. "See, there's me and Fred, second years, Percy, fourth year-"
"And prat," Fred muttered darkly under his breath.
"Fair description, that," George admitted. "But anyways, he's a fourth year. Charlie, who you may have seen a bit earlier, is in his seventh year. Ron's back at home, starting Hogwarts next year, and our only sister, Ginny, starting in two years."
"There's Bill too," Fred added, counting off on his fingers. "He left Hogwarts ages ago."
"Only two, wasn't it?"
"Yeah, but that was before we got here, so who can remember?"
"Ah, yeah, that's true."
"And what makes Percy a prat," Emily asked, smiling, as she was feeling more confidence in her ability to converse.
"He's not, really," George quickly replied, cutting off what Emily was sure to be a rude remark from Fred. "Perce just really fancies hard work."
"And power," Fred added.
"Well, that, and both authority and the Ministry. Sort of the complete opposites of us," George said, grinning. "Fred and I have a bet over whether or not Perce will lighten up if he gets a prefect badge."
"Which I think is as likely as dad winning the Prophet Galleon Draw," Fred replied darkly.
"Hey, it's possible, innit?"
Somber, Fred said, "Not bloody likely."
George shrugged. "Worst ways to spend a galleon, though, right Emily?"
"Yeah, that's true," she replied, noting that talking about money seemed to rub Fred the wrong way. "What's Bill doing now?"
"Curse Breaker in Egypt," Fred chimed in, appearing more upbeat. "It's wicked cool, based on the letters he's sent back."
George nodded in agreement as they reached the door to the Great Hall. "Bill's always been one to jump into the more, well, shall we say, dangerous jobs."
"So, what's your family like," Fred asked politely.
Emily's smile fell when hearing the question, but she didn't notice George send his brother a hard glare. "Well, um, honestly, there's some problems right now." Understatement, she glumly thought.
"Ah, well, if anyone can cheer you up, it's Percy," Fred replied bracingly, nodded to an older red-haired boy reading a large book, sitting across from Charlie. He glanced up at the sound of his name.
"Yes," he inquired, and Emily could tell what the twins meant. She definitely felt an aura of authority from the young man.
"Perce, this is Emily," George began. "She'll be eating with us."
Percy gave both his brothers a quick glance, and then looked at Emily. "Quite," he replied, nodding. "All right there, Emily?" He held out his hand.
She grasped it, and noticed how firm the handshake was. "Yeah. You?"
"Oh, having a spot of trouble with this Arithmancy essay," Percy replied, turning back to the book he was reading. Emily saw he had a quill in his other hand, and a lengthy writing near him. "Professor Vector's working very hard to ensure we have a good grasp on the topic at hand."
Fred sat down next to him, trying to grab the paper away, but was unsuccessful. Percy shot him an acidic glance, while Charlie, from across the table said, "Let him be, Fred. Though I do admit," he added, turning to Percy, "that instead of working, you could relax, if just for a day."
Percy looked scandalized at this suggestion while George stealthy crept across the table, reaching Charlie's side. Percy's indignation deepened, but Charlie just chuckled.
"I'll tell you, George," he said, his grin not leaving, "if McGonagall were here, I'd have no choice but to dock points."
"You weren't so keen to dock points when George and I nicked food from the kitchens, were you," Fred pointed out.
"You what," Percy asked, turning his head to his right. "Are you saying you stole-"
"Crikey, Percy," Charlie said, feigning a dumb-founded expression, "you're saying you didn't know? And I reckoned you'd get straight O.W.L.'s."
"As prefect, it is you're responsibility to ensure that rules, regardless of who is breaking them, are kept and order is retained," Percy hotly contested, his face red.
"Bollocks," Charlie said simply. "If they blew up the History of Magic classroom, then sure, I'd be over them like Mum when the school year starts, but blimey, Percy, I've nicked food from the kitchens. With the power of prefect, you need to follow the rules, yeah, but also use a little common sense."
Emily observed this awkward interaction while slowly sitting to the right side of Fred. She grabbed the nearby eggs and toast, loading her plate up.
"Yeah, just be chuffed we're not blowing up classrooms," Fred replied with a grin. "Thanks for setting the bar high, by the way," he added to Charlie.
Charlie's lips turned up at this remark, but continued to sternly stare at Percy. "Listen, Perce, I know you mean well, but don't put your dedication to rules over harmless fun. Your job as prefect won't be easy if you do."
Percy straightened his horn-rim glasses, a pronounced frown forming. "I will simply abide by the agreed-to rules; nothing more, nothing less."
Charlie sighed. "You'll make Mum happy, at least. Guess we can't ask for more than that."
"Oi," Fred called from Emily's left, "speaking of making Mum happy, what are you doing after Hogwarts?"
"Yeah, enough cryptic clues," George added, rolling his eyes. "If the Cannons took you on, don't hide it from us."
Charlie grimaced. "Honestly, if the Cannons was the only offer I got, I'd be better off a Muggle."
Emily chuckled at this, while Fred replied, "Better than the Finches, though, eh?"
"Who the bloody hell are the Finches," Charlie asked, gob-smacked. "I know my Quidditch, and I think you pulled that name out of your arse."
"They're from the States, right," George asked, mildly confused himself. "Didn't they put in a good show this season?"
"I'd be knackered if I knew," Fred replied, all of the sudden looking down crest. "Honestly, after the Kestrels got decimated by the Catapults, I've been right put of Quidditch."
Charlie nodded solemnly. "The Catapults are good, but yeah, that was a surprise." He shook his head, then, as if he just remembered something, looked straight at Emily. "You like Quidditch?"
"I've been to a few games," Emily said, nodding. "I'm an Arrows girl. Last I heard, they didn't fare too well against the Bats, though."
"What was it, 290-70, something like that," Fred asked. Charlie and George murmured in agreement.
"Yeah, that was a bit of a butchering," Charlie added. "Still, 420-150? What were the Kestrels playing at?"
"I reckon they downed five barrels of Firewhiskey before flying on the field. Merlin, that was a dodgy game" George said, frowning.
"They couldn't have been that dreadful," Percy insisted, obviously surprising his brothers by joining into the conversation. "They caught the snitch, didn't they?"
"Yeah, but that's all they did," Charlie stressed. "The chasers barely had their hands on the Quaffle."
"We all know the Catapults are a better team than the Kestrels, though," Percy replied, his tone absolute. "It shouldn't have come as a surprise."
Fred was about to add something, but then a wide grin appear on his face. "Well done, innit? George, give Charlie a pat on the back for me, will ya?"
At first, George appeared lost, but then grinned also, throwing his right arm around Charlie's shoulders. "Nice try. You had us going," George said in praise. "However, as brilliant as you may think you are, we're not gnomes. Where are you off to post-Hogwarts?"
Charlie drank some pumpkin juice from his goblet slowly prior to replying, while his three brothers, plus Emily, looked at him intently.
"Well, don't say a word to Mum, mind," he began, looking put off, "but I've been talking a lot with Kettleburn and Hagrid, and they both say I'd do well to go study dragons."
"Dragons," Fred repeated, awe-struck. "Blimey, you could play for Tutshill if you wanted, but you're going for dragons?"
"Not a word to Mum," Charlie reiterated his tone one of warning. "She'll be shirty enough when I work up the nerve to tell her, so spare me." He specifically, Emily noted, was eying Percy with that last line, and Percy just stiffly nodded.
The five of them just sit there in silence, and Emily thought, for the first time in what seemed like a while, that today was Christmas, she wasn't with her parents, and her life was crashing around her. It just doesn't feel like it, though.
"Hey, um, guys," Emily spoke up after some time, "speaking of Hagrid, he invited my down to his house around one for lunch. Do any of you want to join me? It might be a tight fit, but-"
"Fancy going to Hagrid's? Bloody right I am," Charlie loudly said, causing a few of the others in the Hall to glance around. "It's not a bad idea, either. Hagrid probably gets pretty lonely 'round these times."
"Not if he's out herding up Fire Crabs, he's not," Fred said, but still looked pleased at the prospect of visiting him.
"Nah, Fire Crabs are too tame for him," George amended, then looking at Emily. "Sure, though, we'd be happy to go."
Percy said nothing for what seemed the longest time, and then quietly nodded his head. "That indeed sounds quite the good plan."
And with that, Emily's day with the Weasleys had just begun.
I never knew true friendship until I met them, a one-year older Emily considered, her right hand on a quill, her left holding down a parchment.They made my Christmas far better than I ever would have dreamed, and they weren't even trying.
Emily let loose a lengthy sigh. After her second term at Hogwarts, Emily and her father had relocated to the States, and she now attended the West Coast Wizarding Institute, hidden among the Redwood Forests of California. Though much smaller than Hogwarts, Emily didn't mind – the atmosphere was nice, and the professors seemed to take a much more personal stake in the work of their students.
Still, she considered, dipping her quill into ink, I don't think I'll ever be able to forget how included they made me feel. Hagrid, the Weasleys, and- Her mind went blank, trying to conjure the face of the kindly ghost who had escorted her to the Great Hall.
The Fat Friar, she suddenly recalled, and smiled at the recollected name, absent-mindedly wiping tears which formed in her eyes . Emily then began writing her letter.
Dear Fred and George (like I can bloody tell you apart),
I wanted to…
The End