Chapter Five

A Muggle Christmas

Jane hadn't expected to be back in London so soon. When she'd last been at King's Cross, on the first of September, she hadn't given any thought to the fact that she might come back. She'd been so caught up in the idea of leaving, getting away from Privet Drive, that she had forgotten about school holidays. She'd always hated school holidays, because that meant she had to stay inside all day with Aunt Petunia, and she'd certainly never been included in the Dursleys' Christmas celebrations.

"Now," Hermione said, seizing Jane's arm before they got off the train. "I want to warn you. My parents… they're a bit… enthusiastic… that I've, erm, got a friend, all right?"

Jane nodded. She supposed she could understand that.

Hermione's parents were waiting for them outside the barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten. Jane thought they looked like nice people—Hermione had clearly gotten her hair from her mother and her father had her warm brown eyes.

"Hello, dear," Mrs. Granger said, offering her hand. "You must be Jane. We've heard so much about you."

"It's nice to meet you, too," she said, shaking Mrs. Granger's hand.

"So, not too embarrassed, are you?" her father asked Hermione. "Because we can be even more embarrassing, I promise."

"Oh, Dad." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't mind him," she said to Jane. "He's barmy."

Jane was smiling, though. These people would be nothing like the Dursleys.

They truly were nothing like the Dursleys. Mr. Granger had a very nice new car, but he didn't say a word about it.

"Where do you live, Jane?" Mrs. Granger asked, as he pulled out of the side street he'd parked on.

"With my aunt and uncle in Surrey." Jane had not thought of a good way to explain why she wasn't with them. "They can't take me Christmas."

Hermione frowned, but Mrs. Granger smiled. "Well, I'm sorry to hear that, but I'm glad we were able to have you. I did tell Hermione that you probably would probably be homesick and want to be with them…"

"I'm fine," Jane said brightly. She was watching the scenery go by out the window. She'd only been to London a few times and she liked seeing the old buildings. "I think Hogwarts is brilliant. It's all been such an adventure."

"Yes, I'm sure it is." Mrs. Granger turned to look at Hermione. "So, what adventures have you girls had?"

Hermione sank into her seat. "We've learned to fly on broomsticks," she answered.

Jane thought it would be best not to chime in about the three-headed dog or the Forbidden Forest. Perhaps Hermione didn't want her parents to know she'd got detention.

"That sounds like fun," Mr. Granger said. "I guess that makes you a real witch. I confess I'm a bit disappointed to see Jane's cat isn't black."

"I told you real witches aren't like that," Hermione said, with mock exasperation. She reached through the bars on Crookshanks's carrier to scratch his head. "Most people have owls, anyway. There aren't a lot of cats in our house.

"Yes, I remember that from the letter. An owl, a cat, or a toad."

"Our friend Ron's got a rat," Jane said. She'd never realized before that rats hadn't been on the letter. She wondered why Percy had ever done anything against the rules like that.

Mrs. Granger shivered. "Thankfully it's not in your dormitory."

Jane was happy the conversation had drifted from her family. She didn't like answering questions about the Dursleys. Adults asked a lot of questions and it was hard to keep coming up with answers. The few times adults had asked too many questions, it had been hard for Jane to get them off the subject.

The Grangers lived in a nice neighborhood in London, with tree-lined streets and old houses. Jane liked them—they were far more interesting than the recent constructions on Privet Drive that all looked the same. The Grangers' home was different to the one next to it, which made the street more interesting. The things inside looked more expensive than the things in the Dursleys' house, and Jane noticed that it also wasn't as clean, but she thought that was nice. The house actually looked like people lived in it.

"The guest room's ready for you, Jane," said Mrs. Granger, when they brought their things inside. "Hermione will show you."

Jane followed her friend upstairs. She had never been a guest in any house but Mrs. Figg's. She was very nervous. Was she doing all right? Was she being polite enough? She certainly didn't want the Grangers to think she was ungrateful.

"My room's right next door," Hermione explained, opening the door to the guest room. "Crookshanks will like the window seat."

Indeed, when Jane let him out of his carrier a moment later, he went right to it and curled up in a patch of winter sunshine.

"Are they really all right?" Hermione asked suddenly.

"Are who all right?" Jane opened her bag.

"My parents." Hermione sat down on the bed. "I was really nervous having you meet them. They can be a bit… much."

Jane sat down next to her friend. "Hermione, your parents are brilliant. You realize what I'm measuring against—the Dursleys. They were really awful."

Hermione was quiet. "I'm sorry. I know what I must sound like… at least I've got parents."

"Really," Jane said, squeezing Hermione's hand. "This is already the best holiday I've ever had."

That had planted a nervous seed in the back of Jane's mind. She'd never really had a Christmas. She'd never gotten a present, and she'd never given one. Would Hermione like her present? She'd needed to enlist Percy's help in getting it, but she very much hoped Hermione would like it.

The next day was Christmas Eve. Hermione had told her that the Grangers traditionally went to a Tudor Christmas festival on Christmas Eve.

"We didn't know if you'd want to go this year," Mrs. Granger said. "Because you've got a friend over…"

"No," said Hermione a little too firmly. "We should go. Jane's never been to something like this, have you, Jane?"

Jane shook her head.

Just before it got dark, they all bundled up (Hermione surreptitiously lent Jane a heavier coat) and headed out.

The festival was beautiful. She might have described it as magical before she'd known magic was real, and even knowing that, it still was. The Grangers knew what to expect, but it was all new to Jane—the costumed carolers, the stands of food, the skating rink.

"Do you want to try skating?" Hermione asked her.

Jane bit her lip.

"We don't have to," Hermione said. "I just wanted to know if you'd like to try."

"No," Jane said, tossing her red-and-gold scarf over her shoulder. She'd be brave. "I will try it."

It was almost like learning to fly all over again. Hermione held tight to Jane's hand as they wobbled out onto the ice on their rented skates.

"Now, I don't expect you've had roller skates, either, so we'll start slow," Hermione said. She was skating backwards in front of her, just as Jane had done for Neville. "Just sort of walk with them. And look at me, not at the ground."

Hermione was a good teacher. They did half a circuit of the rink like this before Hermione let go. "Now," she said. "Try on your own. Left, right, left, right."

Jane was a bit wobbly. "I think I'll fall, Hermione."

"No," Hermione said. "You won't. I won't let you fall. Just try it."

Jane took a few steps forward on her own and promptly pitched forward. Hermione grabbed her shoulders. "See?" she said brightly. "You did it. Now, let's try for longer."

They had traveled several more feet and Jane was gaining even more confidence when they heard a voice say, "Look who it is!"

Hermione spun, a horrified look on her face, nearly dropping Jane in the process. "What are you doing here?"

Two girls their age were a few feet away on the ice. They immediately reminded Jane of Parkinson and Davis.

"We wondered where you went when we didn't see you at secondary school," one of them said.

"I go to boarding school," said Hermione.

"Run away, did you?" said the other girl.

"No," Hermione said, chin in the air. "It's very exclusive and I was invited. I'll have you know I have friends there."

These must have been girls from Hermione's Muggle school. Jane took a wobbly step forward around Hermione.

"Ooh, friends," the first girl said. "Is this your friend?"

"Yeah, I'm her friend," Jane said. "Hermione's brilliant. She's my best friend and you've no right to say anything about her. You don't even know half of what she can do. You wouldn't last a day at our school."

The girls giggled. "And why would we want to go to nerd school?"

Jane was very strongly tempted to tell them what sort of school Hogwarts really was, but then she remembered Professor Binns's lectures about the Statute of Secrecy.

"Come on, Hermione," she said sharply, grabbing Hermione's hand and starting out across the ice. She didn't get far before her legs went out from under her and she landed hard on her rear, bringing Hermione down with her.

The girls burst into laughter. "At least you can fall, Granger. You've got plenty of padding!"

Red-faced, Hermione got up and pulled Jane to her feet. Together, they skated away.

"I'm sorry about that, Hermione," Jane said. "I didn't mean to fall."

Hermione shook her head, hair flying. "No, you were brilliant. No one's ever stuck up for me before."

"If only they knew," Jane said darkly. "If they knew about Hogwarts…"

By the end of the evening, Jane had managed a circuit of the rink on her own, with only one complete fall and two panicked grabs for the wall, the Muggle girls all but forgotten.

"So, Jane," Mr. Granger said, as they walked to their car, "what do you think of our little tradition?"

Jane looked back at the bright lights of the festivities. "I think it's wonderful," she murmured.

The Grangers got up early on Christmas morning to open presents. It was wonderful to see a real family at Christmas, not one who was showing off for the neighbors, all while ignoring Jane. That's what a Dursley Christmas was like, trying to outdo each other and the year before, but not really caring what the presents meant to them.

Hermione's family was totally different. They had hot chocolate and biscuits (that would never have been a breakfast at the Dursleys) as they sat around the tree. And on top of all of that, there were presents for Jane.

Mrs. Weasley had sent her a hand-knitted jumper of deep purple, as well as a tin of fudge, which she shared with the Grangers. Hermione had given her A Manual of Cat Care, and Hagrid had sent her a lovely carved flute.

There was even a present for her from the Grangers.

"I don't know if this is something you've already got," Mrs. Granger said, as Jane opened the box. "Perhaps your aunt's given it to you."

It was a book.

"Ooh, Anne of Green Gables!" said Hermione excitedly. "I love that book."

Mrs. Granger nodded. "It was my favorite when I was your age. It was the first thing I thought of when I wanted to get something for an eleven-year-old girl." She looked rather wistful as she said this. "I hope you'll enjoy Anne, Jane."

"Thank you, Mrs. Granger." Jane ran her hand over the cover, which depicted a girl in an old-fashioned dress. She hadn't been allowed much to read at the Dursleys—she'd read at school, in the library, but she had not been allowed to bring books home. ("We're not paying for any books you lose!" Aunt Petunia had said.) She couldn't wait to read this one.

"This one's for me," Hermione said, examining the tag on a small square box. Jane's heart skipped a beat. "It's from Jane."

Jane watched as Hermione tore the wrappings off and lifted the lid of the box. "Oh," Hermione breathed. With an almost disbelieving look on her face, she lifted the gold chain out of the box. "This is…"

"I've got the other half." Jane reached into her jumper and pulled it out. "It's an infinity symbol. It means—"

"I know what it means." Hermione pressed her half of the necklace up against Jane's. The two halves clicked together and words in a loopy script began to move along the curves of the infinity.

Best friends.

Without warning, Hermione threw her arms around Jane, nearly knocking her to the floor. "Oh, Jane, I love it. No one's ever given me anything like this before."

Jane put her arms around Hermione. "I've never had anyone to give something like this to."

Hermione put her half of the necklace on immediately and Jane thought she saw Mrs. Granger wipe a tear away from her eye.

At the end, there was one last package left under the tree. It was for Jane, but it didn't say who it was from. She opened it cautiously. After some of the shocks she'd had this year, she couldn't be sure.

It was a cloak, a beautiful silver cloak.

"That's gorgeous," Hermione whispered.

"Like water," said her mother.

Jane threw it around her shoulders. Hermione's parents gasped. Jane couldn't see her arms and legs.

"That's an invisibility cloak," Hermione breathed. "Oh, Jane. Who could have sent you that? They're rare and highly restricted."

"My goodness," Mrs. Granger said. "I've never seen anything like it. It is real, isn't it? It's not a trick of the light?"

Jane turned. It was amazing to think how normal magic seemed to her now; it was hard to remember what her old normal life had once been like. Hermione's parents were staring disbelievingly at the cloak. Jane and Hermione had both accepted the idea of an invisibility cloak instantly, but her parents were clearly having trouble processing it.

Hermione didn't seem to see this.

"There's a note," she said, reaching for a piece of paper on the ground. "It must've fallen out when you turned." She read it aloud. "'Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well.'" Hermione stopped. "It doesn't say who it's from."

Jane swished the cloak around herself, trying to figure out what on Earth she could use it for.

And who could have sent it.

It rained for the entire trip north on the Hogwarts Express, but Jane didn't mind. She was still glowing from Christmas—from feeling that she had a place to belong and the way Hermione had reacted to her present. She hadn't taken her half of the necklace off and neither had Hermione. She didn't think the boys would be too interested in that, but she couldn't wait to show them the cloak.

"But who could it have been from?" Hermione said suddenly.

"What?" Jane looked up from Anne.

"The cloak."

"I don't know." Jane watched the rain lash the windows of the train. "Hagrid knew my parents. Maybe we should ask him."

When they got back to Gryffindor Tower, Ron was waiting for them in their usual cluster of chairs.

"Looks like Mum got you, too," he said, observing Jane's jumper. "Mine's maroon. It's maroon every year."

"Yes," Jane said. "And I want to go to the Owlery and thank her—"

"And!" Ron cut in. "Guess what I've found out." He motioned for the girls to move in closer. "I found out why the… that person… wanted to hurt the unicorn."

Hermione's eyes went wide. "Why? How?"

"Percy." He looked pleased to have thought this up. "Apparently, they do unicorns in fourth year. I thought to ask him in case he knew and he says unicorn blood is a highly illegal potion ingredient and it's only used in really, really Dark stuff. Percy wouldn't tell me what, but I don't think he knew."

Hermione looked disappointed. "I suppose this means it won't be in any book outside the Restricted Section."

"Ah, but I have another idea." Ron looked very pleased with himself, like a chess master. "Jane's going to ask Snape."

Jane's mouth dropped open. "Snape? But you said—"

"I know. But I've changed my mind. Snape's a Potions Master. I bet he could get unicorn blood any old way than stalking the forest, if he really was up to something. But if Jane asks Snape what kinds of potions unicorn blood's used in, he'll tell her. He likes her."

Jane and Hermione exchanged glances. Would this work?

It was decided that she would ask Snape after Potions on Friday morning. Jane waited until the classroom had emptied. Ron and Hermione dawdled in packing up and filed out after the others, leaving Jane alone with the professor.

Her heart was pounding nervously. "Professor Snape?" she asked, finally slipping her arm through the strap of her bag.

"What is it, Miss Potter?" He didn't look up from the essays he was flipping through.

"I was wondering if you could answer a question for me. It's sort of about Potions... It's just that..."

"Out with it, Miss Potter. I do not have all day."

"I've been doing some reading about unicorns, sir." She had to be careful or else she'd be sure to blow it. "And I know their blood is illegal to use in potion-making. I was wondering why that is."

Snape paused for so long she was afraid he wouldn't answer her. Something seemed to come into his eyes, as though he had heard all of this a long time ago. "That is because," he said silkily, "drinking the blood of a unicorn is said to make the drinker immortal." He almost spat the word out. "Many who yearn for eternal life hear this and believe it to be the ticket to what they desire, however, an immortal life sustained by unicorn blood is not a life such as you enjoy, Miss Potter. One who has consumed the blood of a unicorn is barely alive in the true sense, rendered an addict and forced to continue killing such beautiful creatures to sustain their pitiful existence." For the first time, he looked her in the eyes and his dark gaze seemed to bore into her. "And what would you want to know about that for?"

Jane swallowed hard, fighting the urge to bolt. "Just curious, sir. Just curious."

"Very well." Snape finally tore his eyes away. "Get out of here, Miss Potter, before you miss lunch."

Jane made her way shakily up from the dungeons. Ron and Hermione were waiting in the entrance hall.

"So?" Hermione asked eagerly. "What did he say?"

Jane swallowed hard. "I'll tell you later. It's not really lunchtime conversation."

They had to wait until late, because after lunch, there were classes, and then dinner and then, Angelina and Alicia wanted to make sure they weren't having any trouble with homework and Percy was looking at them suspiciously so they worked on Transfiguration until he wandered away to keep Fred and George from leaving the common room with a box of dungbombs none too cleverly concealed under Fred's Quidditch robes.

"All right," Hermione said briskly, once she could be sure Percy's attention was elsewhere. "What did he say?"

Jane told her friends everything Professor Snape had told her. Hermione and Ron listened with wide eyes.

"Immortality's serious business," Ron said, after it had had time to sink in. "I mean, we live longer than Muggle anyhow, so you've got to be really desperate. Plus, all the stories they tell about it…" Ron shuddered. "It always has really nasty consequences. It's not like eternal youth."

Hermione looked thoughtful. "I don't know where else we can go from here."

"Maybe this is something we don't want to mess with," Jane said. "With Hagrid watching the forest and the teachers in the school, I think we're pretty safe."

"Yeah," Ron said. "Except from that dog, if Fred and George ever let it out."

They soon forgot all about the issue about the unicorn blood, as Saturday was the Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Jane understood that they wanted Ravenclaw to win, in order to give Gryffindor a better lead in the standings.

At least, she hoped she understood, because Fred and George had been talking over each other as they'd explained this to Jane and Hermione on their way to the pitch.

Hermione hadn't even wanted to come if Gryffindor wasn't playing, but the boys had made her.

"You'd think you'd like all this," Ron had said, handing her a Ravenclaw badge to pin to her robes. "All kinds of maths involved."

Hermione huffed. "But exams—"

"Are in June!" Ron pushed her into a seat in the front row of the stands. "Honestly, Hermione, this is unnatural."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, but Jane noticed a hint of a smile there.

"I just can't believe the stupid Snitch is worth a hundred and fifty points to catch it. Who thought that up?"

Ron and the twins stared at her like she was insane.

Thankfully, the game didn't last nearly as long as the match between Gryffindor and Slytherin had. Ravenclaw's Seeker had caught the Snitch before Hufflepuff's had even realized anything was happening.

The Ravenclaw team had landed to celebrate and the Hufflepuff Beaters began rounding up the Bludgers for storage. One of them, a sixth-year boy, had his tucked in his arms and was descending when all of a sudden, he lost his grip on it and it shot across the stadium.

"Funny," Fred said, "it's like it doesn't realize the match has ended."

Jane was about to ask if the Bludgers were normally shut off when she realized it was headed straight toward the Gryffindor stands.

Right toward Jane.

She and Hermione dodged apart, sending Jane sprawling across Ron and George. The Bludger slammed into the seat, sending splinters of wood flying high into the air.

"Oi, Rickett!" Fred shouted. "Butterfingers!"

"All right, Jane?" George asked, helping her to her feet.

"I think so." Jane peered at the hole in her seat. The Bludger had dropped like a stone all the way to the ground, clearing a path through the supports in the stands. That hole could just as easily have been in her.

"Orderly, now," Professor Sinistra was saying. "Everyone clear the stands in an orderly fashion. You kids all right up there?"

"We're fine, Professor!" Hermione called, as she and Fred moved away from the other side of the hole. "I can't believe you like this game," she muttered. "You'd never see a football do that."

"That doesn't usually happen," Ron assured them, as they made their way back up to the school. "The balls are supposed to be spelled not to leave the pitch."

"Maybe that Bludger was broken," Jane suggested.

Ron shook his head. "Madam Hooch would have noticed if something was wrong with it. She'd be able to replace worn-out spells, or get a new Bludger."

"So what could it have been?"

Ron shook his head. "I don't know, Jane. But it did look like it was coming right after you."

With this pleasant thought, they retired to their common room.

If someone had been trying to kill Jane, they hadn't tried again. Very likely, she was perfectly safe. After all, why would someone try to kill an eleven-year-old girl? She only knew of one person who'd tried to kill her and he was supposed to be gone.

Thus, it came as a surprise, but not a terrible one when Hermione came into the dormitory one afternoon, a grave look on her face.

"Good, you're alone," she said and shut the door.

"What is it?" Jane looked up from the cat book she was reading.

"I wanted to talk to you." Hermione sat on her bed and pulled Crookshanks into her lap. "About the Bludger."

Jane bit her lip. "You really don't think someone was trying to kill me? The teachers all looked at the Bludger—"

"And it was fine, I know. But I don't like it, Jane. It was headed right for you and Ron's right, they're not supposed to leave the pitch."

Jane drew her knees up to her chest. "I know, but why do you think someone would want to come after me?"

Hermione gave her a pointed look. "I think you know who it might be."

"Yeah." Jane flopped back on the bed. "You-Know-Who."

"Well," said Hermione tentatively, "don't you think we should get a teacher?"

"Why?"

Hermione looked stunned that Jane would even ask this. "Because you have to tell a grownup before you're hurt!"

"I don't exactly trust grownups, Hermione."

"But why?" Hermione looked confused.

"I don't think you want to know." She turned away from Hermione, but the other girl got up and came around to the other side of Jane's bed. She had her necklace out of her robes. "Remember, Jane? We're best friends. You can tell me anything."

Jane sighed and sat up. "Okay. But, Hermione, you have to promise not to tell anyone. Not Ron, not Fred and George, especially not an adult. Okay?"

Hermione looked hesitant, but her eyes never left Jane's. "Okay."

Jane had never told anyone any of this. She'd already told Hermione she hadn't had friends, and of course, Hermione and the Weasleys knew the Dursleys hadn't wanted her to come back for Christmas. But she'd never told anyone about the cupboard. Still, she trusted Hermione to keep it a secret.

"You know my relatives," she began, and Hermione nodded. She had a worried look on her face like she was afraid of what she would hear. "I told you they never really cared about me. My aunt hated my mother, hated that she was a witch. They didn't tell me anything about magic, or Hogwarts, or Voldemort. I sleep in the cupboard under the stairs."

Hermione's eyes widened in horror. "Jane, you have to—"

"No, Hermione," she said, more sharply than she'd meant. "You promised."

"I know." She looked disappointed.

"I mean, it's not like they beat me or anything," Jane said. "They didn't starve me. They just didn't give me presents or let me have friends or anything like that."

Hermione frowned.

"But I've got friends now," Jane reminded her. "You're all brilliant and I love Hogwarts. And if someone's really coming after me, I'm going to take care of it myself."

"No, you're not," said Hermione quickly. "Your friends are going to help you."