Albus Dumbledore and the Everlasting Flame

Disclaimer: this is a work of fan fiction based on the worlds created by JK Rowling

"Every new friend is another root in the ground"

Chapter 12 – A Friendly Christmas

The months of November and December leading up to Christmas passed by in a blur of snowstorms and icy winds. The excitement that had gripped Gryffindor House after Thomas Jones had made a winning start to the Triwizard Tournament faded once everyone realized that their Professors still had homework to give them, and that winter was setting in for good. It happened to be such a cold year that students could be seen conjuring blue fires in the corridors of Hogwarts, much to the chagrin of caretaker Odrick Olsen. The hunched old man could be heard rasping at countless students to 'put 'em out, you'll be a singe'n the stonework.' But the old pirate with his dozen ear-rings was fighting a losing battle.

The only people who seemed to handle the cold were the students of the Moskva Academy. They wore their heavy black coats and replaced their witch hats with furry grey caps, to and from their classes on the third floor. Professor Prewett had accommodated the visiting schools with classrooms for use during the weeks. Albus thought it made sense. After all, only one student from each school took part in the Tournament. The others had to have something to do.

The second years were being worked much harder than they had in first year, or so it felt to all of them. Each had a particular gripe about a certain subject or teacher, and so a lunchtime conversation at the Gryffindor table would often sound something along the lines of:

'I am despondent,' Victoria might say, 'for Charms is being most difficult at present. Professor Rolleston is progressing much too fast through A Standard Book of Spells.'

'Spells I can manage,' Emily would rejoinder, 'but Professor Solstice sets the standard much too high in Defense against the Dark Arts. The blocking spell for flying objects eludes me. I keep getting hit in the face by pillows. Oh stop laughing William, you are most immature.'

'The thing I find to be a challenge,' Albus would say, 'is Transfiguration. It frustrates me that I have both a wand suitable for it; willow is such a good material for transfiguring; and I have my father's book A Better Way to Transfigure, yet I still cannot manage to transfigure a mammal into an object or vice versa.'

'That is because such a spell is at a fifth or sixth year level, Albus,' Alabastor would snort. 'So naturally it is beyond you.'

'But I managed to turn a feather into a phoenix …'

'Oh stop sniveling, Albus,' William would say, 'you find everything else impossibly easy. As for myself, I happen to find everything impossibly tedious, Herbology in particular. I mean to say, who gives an owl's hoot about plants?'

'That is not in the slightest bit boring when you compare it to History of Magic,' Annabel would say, sighing heavily. 'It has taken us three months to cover the eleventh century.'

'I thought that was interesting,' Albus would say, 'seeing as it was the period when Hogwarts was founded by Gryffindor and the others.'

'Interesting, maybe,' Edward might interject, 'but when it comes from the monotonous voice of one Professor Binns, then even the hardiest soul wilts into a deathless sleep.'

'I think Potions is worse,' Alabastor would growl, his arms folded across his chest. 'The fumes emanating from our cauldrons are enough to put me to sleep.'

'That's because you don't concoct your potions correctly,' Emily would snort, at which point in time Alabastor and Emily would have another one of their recurrent arguments. While they were doing that, Maggie always had a word to say.

'It isn't that Potions is a problem,' Maggie would say, 'it is that beastly Professor Rookwood who teaches it. Ever since she replaced Professor Fudge as Headmistress of Slytherin House, she has been perfectly horrid to us. I find it despicable the way she speaks to Annabel, Elizabeth and Edward, just because they haven't pure blood.'

'I know,' Elizabeth would concur. 'But I am more terrified of Professor Sinistra, to be honest. She has such frightful pale eyes. When they catch in the moonlight I think she must be a werewolf or something.'

'Her subject is worse,' Mars would contest. 'I am so tired by midnight Thursdays that I barely manage to keep my eyes open, let alone focus on magical instruments to read the heavens. Not that we have been reading the heavens much lately, seeing as it is always raining or snowing!'

'That is decidedly rich coming from you, Mars,' Albus would say, 'seeing as your name matches that of the Planet of War. I would have thought you delighted in Astronomy.'

'Almost as much as I delight in spilling your pumpkin juice all over you,' Mars would say, without ever fulfilling his threat. The Pirates had yet to overcome their fear of a massive reprisal by Professor Prewett should they engage in any mischief, so a food fight was totally out of the question.

'I cannot wait until the Tournament is over,' mischievous William would often whisper, 'then we can violate as many school rules as we wish to.'

Albus would always smile and nod when this topic came up, but deep down he wondered if the Pirates had a future at all. When he had founded them a year earlier, he had coined the name "The Guardians of Gryffindor, of Justice and Victory, Defenders of Truth and Pirates of Points Undeserved." Now that Professor Phineas Nigellus was deposed and Professor Prewett reigned over a fair Hogwarts, there was no judicious need to rob Slytherin or the other Houses of points. In fact, despite how the Pirates had cost Gryffindor four hundred points at the start of the year, Gryffindor was back in the lead in the House Championship, thanks in part to the Pirates winning two hundred and fifty points back, but also due to Thomas Jones' efforts in the Triwizard Tournament and Albus' knack of winning at least ten points a lesson for his consistently correct answers or perfect demonstrations of spells.

So with Gryffindor in the lead, without any need for Guardians of Justice and Victory or Defenders of Truth, and certainly no need for the Pirates of Points Undeserved to get Professor Prewett cross and go losing more points than they could possibly make other Houses lose; Albus had to concede that he did not see a future for the Pirates.

The idea began to occupy his thoughts at some length during the colder weeks of late November and early December, as Christmas approached and the walls of Hogwarts seemed to close in with winter's bleak skies. When the Gryffindors snuggled into their favourite couches and cushions in the common room to do their homework, the fireplace ablaze and the curtains drawn across the tall windows, Albus would pull out a spare piece of parchment and scribble down ideas. He would murmur them to himself under his breath, seeing which ones rolled off the tongue in a suitable fashion.

'Dumbledore's Faction of Inspired Explorers, Adventurers and Magical Apprentices,' he muttered to himself one such evening in the common room. 'No, Faction sounds too rebellious. Dumbledore's Army of Inspired … no, Army sounds too militaristic. And perhaps I shouldn't make use of my own name. A club is, after all, about a group of people rather than one. Perhaps … The Union of Explorers, Adventurers and Inspired Magical Apprentices …'

'What was that about apprentices?' Victoria asked. She was standing beside him, trying to read what he was writing. Albus quickly tucked the parchment under his robe.

'Oh, nothing,' Albus said, cheeks flushing brighter the harder he tried to look casual. Victoria's eyebrows narrowed slightly but she said nothing to suggest she was angry.

'Can we borrow your Charms homework?' Victoria asked. 'Professor Rolleston did not explain the page-turning spell properly so I cannot write my essay on the precise wand-work and magical theory behind the spell.'

'Oh, that is not too hard,' Albus said, putting the idea for his new club out of his head and joining the girls on their couch to help them with their work. 'The page-turning spell requires the same kind of wand movement you would use to flick something aside, except that it requires dexterity. Remember, you are trying to get your wand to be as dexterous as your fingertips, something that isn't easy to do, but the principles behind it are simple enough …'

And so passed the weeks leading up to Christmas. Hogwarts relied on routine, and every day mimicked the previous day. There were breakfasts and classes and lunches and classes and hours in the library poring over magical texts and dinner and hours by the fire in the common room doing homework and then it was bedtime. The only decent part of every day was the period between getting into bed at night and falling into the arms of sleep. Albus would lie under the cozy comfort of his blankets, listening to the wind howling outside and feeling safe because Fawkes was crooning just a few feet away, and the walls of Hogwarts never let anything bad in. But still, no day stood out in the memory, and with the wind constantly howling outside and the sleet lashing against the castle walls, it seemed to Albus that November and December passed in a blurry haze.

Christmas was finally upon them; and without a reprieve in the atrocious weather. Still the snow and sleet came down in sideways gusts, the wind screaming like banshees and ghouls outside. A few brave souls like William, Alabastor and Emily had managed to find their way through the sleet to the carriages that came to take them home for Christmas, but for many there was no leaving Hogwarts. Certainly not for the older students, who had the Yule Ball to look forward to. For Albus and Mars this was perfectly suitable. Archaeon had informed Albus following the First Task that he and Lubo Dumbledore would be joining him and Aberforth for Christmas at Hogwarts. It was Archaeon's responsibility as judge to attend the Yule Ball on Christmas Eve, and he promised to spend Christmas lunch with his sons.

Christmas morning dawned in the second year common room to a chirpy song from Fawkes. Albus, Mars and Edward ripped open their bed-curtains to find a stack of presents each at the foot of their beds. Edward was staying because his muggle parents could not afford to send a carriage to Hogwarts; besides, the muggle driver would never be able to find the castle anyway, for it was hidden by numerous magical charms!

'I got a present from Thomas!' Albus exclaimed as he examined his pile. He opened it and discovered a broom polishing kit. There was a note attached.

'Get cleaning your broom, Dumbledore,' Thomas had written. 'Glastonbury is leaving at the end of the year; and we will need a permanent Seeker when Quidditch resumes next year. I intend to go out as a champion, so your broom had better be fast enough to handle you.'

Albus smiled and set the kit down beside his broom, which was gathering dust at the base of his trunk. Bad weather aside; there was little point in flying without a Quidditch season. Albus next opened his present from Victoria, which turned out to be a framed picture of them both standing in the dappled shade of an oak. Victoria had got the Keeper of Keys, Mr Romulus Lupin, to take the picture some months ago. For some reason Albus' image was standing half in and half out of the picture, even though Victoria was still holding his hand. It was as though Albus' image did not want to be in the picture.

Albus burst out laughing when he opened his present from Aberforth. It was an oval tin container of Fizzing Whizzbees. But Albus had used magical ink to write underneath"Fizzing Whizzbees" the words "Tainted with Fisky Whire". Albus showed Mars and Edward, both of whom insisted on sampling the sweets. Albus had one too, and all three boys were giggling before long.

Last of all was Albus' parents' present. It looked small and flimsy beside his other gifts, and he wondered whether his parents had neglected him this year. On opening it, however, his apprehension changed to delight.

'Mars, my parents have bought us tickets to the Caerphilly Catapults versus the Haversfield Hawks!' Albus exclaimed, flapping the tickets in the air. 'It is on this Sunday, just before we go back to school, so I am sure we can go!'

'That is brilliant!' Mars exclaimed. 'Once again your parents have outdone mine. This year all they gave me was a pair of old English gumboots.'

'I suppose it was so that you might negotiate the mud and sleet,' Albus said thoughtfully, before breaking into a grin. 'At least, mate, you got things from me and a few other people.'

'You're right,' Mars said cheerfully. 'This year I don't care that my parents have neglected me as usual; I have plenty of friends in this place.'

'Don't we all,' Albus said, smiling broadly. 'Now do I smell Christmas breakfast brewing downstairs or do I smell Christmas breakfast?'

Edward, Mars and Albus made a mad dash for the door. They met a few dozen other grinning Gryffindors in the common room, all on their way to the Great Hall and chattering excitedly about their presents. This included Victoria, who gave Albus a crushing hug and a light kiss on the cheek for giving her a glowstone. A glowstone was a glassy rock that changed colour depending on the owner's mood, and changed brightness depending on the intensity of the mood. Were Victoria mildly happy, for instance, the glowstone would be a dull pink, but if she were extremely jealous it would glow a vivid green. Albus had sent Fawkes to recover one of these curious rocks the previous week, knowing that it was the sort of thing Victoria would like.

The Great Hall was decked to the walls with festoons of mistletoe and holly, with baubles of gold, silver and radiant colours strung across the ceiling in low arcs. A dozen Christmas trees lined the walls, each decorated with layers of sparkling spells. Even Albus' jaw had to drop. There was nothing physical actually decorating the trees, only spells and glittering faeries. The floating candles beneath the ceiling were also decorated with holly leaves. The Great Hall looked magnificent.

Two of the House tables had been brought together to create one large table around which all the students not at home for Christmas could sit and eat together. Albus and the other six Gryffindor second years slotted in place between the Slytherin second years and a few bleary eyed Moskva Academy students who looked like they had had about two hours of sleep. The music from the Yule Ball had kept all the juniors awake until the early hours of the morning, but Albus suspected that the fun had gone on longer. So it wasn't a surprise to see very few senior students at breakfast.

Albus found himself eating porridge with Victoria to his left and a dark haired boy named Swarbrick Snape to his right. Swarbrick was a second year Slytherin who seemed to keep to himself, even from the Slytherins. Although he sat with them that morning as he always did, it was at the end of the row of second years. Albus, who had a keen eye for what other people were doing, had noticed Swarbrick's apparent isolation. Today being Christmas, and the pair of them sitting together by happenstance, Albus took the opportunity to talk to him.

'I hope you got a decent collection of presents,' Albus said whimsically.

'As it happens,' Swarbrick grunted into his porridge, 'I received none, not that it is any of your business, Bumblebore.'

'Don't call him that!' Victoria snapped.

'Oh, Bumblebore sounds like a name I can tolerate,' Albus said, winking sideways at Victoria, who simply scowled. He turned back to Swarbrick and said, 'Have you got any plans for Christmas today?'

'Again,' Swarbrick grumbled, still not looking up, 'I have none that I wish to share with you. Kindly remove your crooked nose from my business.'

'I am not probing, Snape,' Albus said. 'I am merely enquiring out of interest. If you have no plans, perhaps you would care to join us.'

'Albus!' cried Victoria. She turned to gossip with Annabel, looking scandalized. Swarbrick did not reply, but Albus persisted.

'Do not feel like us being Gryffindors should have anything to do with it,' Albus said. 'You are welcome to join us, as are your Slytherin colleagues.'

'Why in the name of Salazar Slytherin would I wish to spend Christmas with you?' Swarbrick said, looking up at Albus for the first time with a scowl on his face.

'I just thought perhaps you would all enjoy a change in company,' Albus said. 'In fact, I am considering starting a club for students of all Houses; people who share an interest in adventure and becoming better witches and wizards.'

'That sounds ridiculous,' Swarbrick said, burying his nose in his porridge again.

'Perhaps it is,' Albus said mildly, 'but do consider it.'

Albus turned back to Victoria, who put her mouth close to his ear and started whispering fiercely at him.

'What do you think you are doing?' she said. 'I have no wish to spend my Christmas with the Slytherins! I rather hoped we would be spending Christmas together, seeing as this is our first Christmas as a couple.'

'As a matter of course, Victoria, I shall be spending time with you today,' Albus said, his face unmasking his uncertainty at how to deal with an angry girlfriend. 'However, my parents will also be here, and I thought that in the spirit of Christmas we should play games with the other Houses too.'

'Well I don't wish to do that,' Victoria said. She ceremoniously dumped her spoon in her porridge and left the table, a haughty nose raised in the air as she stormed away. Albus felt his cheeks warm and his eyes sink downward.

'There is nothing to be gained by fraternizing with a girl,' Swarbrick grunted next to Albus' shoulder. 'Their moods are more complicated than Professor Bones' transfiguration lessons.'

'You are correct there, Swarbrick,' Albus said, allowing himself a small smile. He shook Victoria out of his thoughts. After all, it was Christmas, and Albus had never had an unpleasant one. There was no reason to start now.

At lunch the Great Hall was much more crowded. This time all four House tables were brought together in the middle of the Hall to create a vast square table, about which everyone in attendance sat. Albus and Aberforth sat to the left of Archaeon and Lubo Dumbledore, who in turn were sitting next to the Minister for Magic, Lionel Wilberforce, and his plump wife Edna. The golden dishes filled with a sumptuous array of foods; roast beef, lamb, chicken and turkey, platters of gravy and bowls of mashed potatoes, steaming pots of soup, sweetmeats, spotted dick, cottage pie and flagons of every kind of soul-warming drink. Someone had invited leprechauns to the luncheon, and they were to be found running the length of the tables throwing handfuls of fake galleons in the laps of the eaters. Faeries fluttered down from the twelve Christmas trees to shower glittering spells on everyone's heads so that their hair and eyebrows sparkled like gold. And the room resounded with the chatter of several hundred voices and the clatter of cutlery on plates and dishes. Even Peeves the Poltergeist was well behaved, bowing obsequiously before Archaeon and wishing him a merry Christmas.

'Why thank you, Peeves,' Archaeon said pleasantly, 'I extend the same to you. Do behave yourself. I did speak of the consequences…'

'Yes, sir, Mister Dumbledore, sir,' Peeves muttered before swooping away. Albus leaned in front of Aberforth to speak to Archaeon.

'What did you threaten Peeves with, father?' Albus asked.

'Nothing to concern yourself with, my son,' Archaeon said, winking mischievously. 'Now, it is your responsibility to remind me, before I take you and your friend to the Quidditch match that I have to give you training in the art of protecting your possessions.'

'I have already protected them with …'

'Silencio,' Archaeon said. Albus continued to mouth words but nothing came out. Archaeon went on, 'if you take a look across the table you will see that both Grundelwald and his unusual little brother have their eyes fixed upon our conversation. Now, Minister Wilberforce, about the muggles shipping Cleopatra's Needle to London, I strongly recommend we reclaim it as our rightful possession and ensure that the muggles are led to believe some other story …'

Albus and Aberforth had to entertain themselves by casting innocuous little spells at one another while Archaeon spoke to the Minister. Eventually, once everyone was stuffed to the brim with Christmas fare, Archaeon stood to address the entire Great Hall. This was no surprise to the Dumbledore boys. Their father had promised to do something "interesting" at the end of the meal.

'Merry Christmas to you all,' Archaeon said amicably. 'In particular to our guests from Moskva and the Black Forest, to the Minister for Magic and his delightful wife, and to Professor Prewett and the staff of Hogwarts. I am myself a guest here, as one of the judges for the Tournament. However, seeing as it is Christmas I think we should engage in some fun.

With a flick of his wand, Archaeon vanished the tables, complete with all the dishes and leftover food that the hardworking house elves had cooked up. He turned his wand to each of the Christmas trees and vanished them too, before looking up at the ceiling at saying in a loud voice, 'Crystallis precipitatus!'

A gasp of wonder went up around the Hall. The ceiling started snowing. Within minutes a thick layer of snow covered the floor. Archaeon vanished all the chairs and anyone who was still sitting found themselves falling on their bottoms in the snow. Nobody needed an excuse to start rolling up snowballs and throwing them at their neighbour. Albus and the Pirates started battering one another with snow. Aberforth came up behind Albus and dumped two handfuls over his head. Archaeon went on better and used his wand to tip Aberforth and Albus upside down and dunk their heads in the snow. It took a sharply aimed tickling spell from Albus to distract Archaeon, but this backfired because both Albus and Aberforth landed headfirst in the snow, bums in the air.

The Great Hall resounded with laughter, boys' yelling and screams from the girls. Albus managed to catch Swarbrick Snape in the back of the head with a well thrown snowball, which got Swarbrick so enraged that he started flinging back snowballs with flicks of his wand. This was just the excuse for the Slytherins to engage the Gryffindors in a full-blown battle, but that was precisely what Albus had been hoping for. The hostility of the previous year was strangely absent, probably due to the absence of Noxious Black who was at home for the holidays, and the Slytherins and Gryffindors both laughed and whooped with every successful snowball strike.

It was one of the most memorable Christmases ever!

Author's Note – a little bit of Christmas fun before the plot rolls into the crucial final stages. We are at Chapter 12 and I suspect that this story will end up being about twenty chapters just like the first one in the Albus series.

Please read and review. Reviews have been strangely down lately and I only write when I get the impression that someone is reading my story. If nobody reviews, then I begin to wonder whether it is worth carrying on. I am VERY busy, and so this story is one of my lesser priorities. Please review and remind me that it is worth telling this story. Thank you!