Harry, Ron and Seamus met up with Hermione and Parvati in the common room. Somehow the space had been restored to more or less normal, with a few students lying around looking stunned or – in a few cases – obviously hungover.

"Where is everyone?" Hermione asked as she descended the stairs.

"Told you it was bad," whispered Parvati, looking around, "I wouldn't be surprised if people were expelled after last night."

"Definitely," Harry said, "I went to bed about one a.m. and…" he couldn't express what the common room had looked like at that time, resorting to raising his eyes and blowing out a breath.

"One a.m.?" Parvati asked, "What were you up to that late? I put Lavender in bed about midnight, but I didn't see you after you and Ron took Seamus."

"Oh, nothing really. I was… just enjoying the party."

Parvati and Hermione shared knowing looks as the five headed for the portrait hole.

Hermione looked Seamus over curiously. "How're you so fresh? I saw you doing shots with Fred and George – you fell off your chair."

Seamus grinned and shrugged. "Aye, that was before I buried that sexy Slytherin lass. Irish, aren't I? S'not a party 'til someone's thrown up and there's been a fight."

They went down to breakfast.

The Great Hall was all gleaming white and blue and beautiful, with a clear, bright sky overhead. The snow of the previous few days had continued overnight, with drifts piling up outside the great gates and tracks being walked in by the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students. Filch was already there, scowling with his mop.

The hall wasn't busy, so early in the morning, but there were a few present – mostly older students -bearing the unmistakable signs of having had a big night. Malfoy and Goyle were there, conspicuously without Crabbe. Pansy and the other Slytherin girls were nowhere to be seen.

They sat and ate, with Ron and Seamus still a little more restrained than normal.

Teachers and students gradually made their way in over the next half-hour, with Pansy, Millicent, Daphne and Blaise enter the hall together.

As he stood – patting his pocket to check her gift was still there – Dumbledore stood and cleared his throat.

It only took a couple of seconds for the hall to quiet. The new arrivals hurried to sit.

"I would like to take a moment to make something quite clear," he said, his eyes furious, "we pride ourselves here at Hogwarts on giving you, our charges, a great deal of freedom. However…"

He paused, surveying the hall over his half-moon spectacles, "… last night, there was a party held in one of the common rooms that grew out of control, to say the least. As a result, there are no fewer than sixteen students waking up this Christmas morning in the hospital wing, while two have had to be transferred to St. Mungo's Hospital."

He paused then, letting a ripple of chatter run through the hall before raising a hand, silencing everyone again. "Fortunately, everyone involved will make a full recovery, and quickly. Unfortunately, proving who exactly is responsible for a party getting out of hand is next to impossible, but we are investigating into who bought the tremendous amount of alcohol that was discovered and we will, in due time, be issuing both punishments and communicating with parents.

"We do not object to you having celebrations in your common rooms, but the next time we discover that alcohol has been given to those under-age, those that have provided it and the prefects who overlook such activities, through action or inaction, will be subject to the very highest punishments that we here have access to."

Silence hung in the air for what felt like minutes. Harry looked around the hall – there were many downcast, shameful faces. He caught Pansy's eye and she smiled uncomfortably, giving him a tiny wave.

Dumbledore took a very long, very visible breath, relaxing. "Now, the only other thing I have to say is: Merry Christmas." At which he sat down, turning to talk with McGonagall.

The noise rose back to normal slowly in the hall. Pansy and Harry were both on their feet, heading toward each other well before it even reached half-way.

The closer they came, the quicker they moved, until they closed the last few steps at a run, with her jumping into his arms in a great hug and spinning her around.

"Thank you." Harry said, his face in her hair, his nose full of the smell of her.

"You're welcome. Merry Christmas." She said.

He lowered her to the ground – she was wearing flat shoes and so was a couple of inches shorter than him. He longed to kiss her, to hold her and never let go.

She reached up, offering her cheek for him to kiss, but as he did, she turned and their lips met, just for a tiny moment. Electricity ran through him and he squeezed her hand. "Merry Christmas." He said, feeling many eyes on them.

"I bought you something." She said, holding out a long, thin box. It was exquisitely wrapped with Gryffindor gold and scarlet paper and a neat, simple bow.

"You shouldn't have." He said, producing his present for her.

Her eyes went wide and he thought for a moment that their small kiss had made her eyes shine like that.

"Thank you, too." She said, smiling. "Can I open it?"

He nodded and watched as she looked at his wrapping then back at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't do much gift wrapping." He said, smiling sheepishly.

"You open yours first." She said, unable to contain herself.

He didn't argue, knowing there was no point.

As he inspected the box, he found it was wrapped and held in place with just the ribbon without a sign of sticking tape anywhere. He pulled the ribbon free and the paper off. The box was made of wood the same colour as his wand – had his wand not been manhandled and used daily for several years.

"Holly?" He asked, indicating the box.

She smiled.

He opened the box, removing the lid. Inside was a strange object. Around six inches long, it was a tube made of the same wood as his wand, with a pair of leather loops, one at each end of the tube. He took it out, closing the box which he slipped into his pocket.

"What is it?" He asked.

She rolled her eyes and took his right arm, pushing back his sleeve. "You told me about what happened to you at the World Cup, how you lost your wand, right?"

He nodded as she slipped the two loops over his hand and up the inside of his forearm where they tightened themselves automatically, becoming snug but comfortable.

"It's a wandgrip." She said, waving her fingers at him expectantly.

Taking the hint, he took out his wand and handed it to her.

"You just put your wand in – like this," she said, sliding his wand into it, back end first – the whole length of it fit into the thin, narrow tube of wood – and it vanished, "and whenever you need it you just pop your hand open and…" She gestured for him to try.

He popped his hand open and his wand shot out and unerringly into his waiting fingers. "Wow," he said, grinning.

"Then you just slide it back in and it won't come out until you take it out again." She said, "My dad has one because he's so forgetful and I've seen a few students here with them – McGonagall has one – I've seen her use it in the duelling clubs."

He hugged her, "That's amazing, thanks so much."

She squeezed him back, "Glad you like it. There are better ones – one which kind of… disappear when you put them on, so no one can find your wand, you know? But they're really expensive."

"No no, this is fantastic." Harry said, making the wand jump into his hand again and thinking about how useful something like it would have been during his earlier adventures. "Open yours."

She pulled the ribbon off the present without a word and tore off the paper – his had used a lot of tape. She raised her eyebrows at the logo on the box for Madrigal Tools and Trinkets before opening it. Inside was the best thing he had seen in the Christmas edition of Wally Wonderfoot's Wizarding Wares magazine: a pair of mirrors, one designed to look like a make-up compact, the other much more masculine with a silver surround on a matching chain.

Pansy frowned, taking out the compact one. "What…?" she asked.

He took the one on the chain from the box, looked into it and said, "Pansy."

She jumped, making a tiny cry of surprise as his face appeared in her mirror. "Bloody hell!"

"I thought that because we're in dif-" He started, but was interrupted as she hugged him again.

Releasing him, she touched his face with her cool fingers in that way that was particularly hers. "It's – they're amazing."

"I guess I didn't like not being able to see you from the other side of the castle." Harry said, sheepishly.

She sniffed and avoided his eye for a few seconds, until he realised she was trying to master herself. Looking up, he saw her spectacular blue eyes had the faint, liquid quality of tears successfully held back. "They're amazing Harry, thank you."

"All we have to do is speak the other's name into them and we'll be able to see and hear each other – they get warm and quiver if we aren't holding them. The range depends on how… close the holders are."

She smiled, dabbing at the corner of her eyes with her fingertips.

Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew the slip of paper that had arrived the previous day. "There's something else." He said, offering it to her.

Eyes wide, she took it and read then screamed a tiny, high-pitched wail of excitement, jumping on the spot.

More eyes turned to stare at them as she pulled herself together. "It's ready?"

He nodded. "It says at the bottom that they'll be here at three – plenty of time to get ready?"

She nodded back. "Absolutely. Daphne and Sophia are going to do my makeup."

He laughed, "As if you – of all people in the world – need makeup."

They hugged again, she touched his face and he kissed her fingers before they returned to their tables to eat.

As Harry sat, grinning ludicrously and pulling a tray of sausages toward him, Hermione grabbed his hand.

"What's that?" she asked, frowning hard.

"What's what?" Harry replied, looking at her.

Then he looked at his hands and saw the faint shimmer around them, a few small sparkling motes still dancing between his fingers. "Oh, that. I don't know. It's happened a few times, something similar happens with her."

"That's really odd, Harry." She replied, turning his hand over in hers. "It's warm."

"'Course it is, it's my hand." He laughed, trying to take his hand back so as to eat his breakfast at last.

"What's the matter, what did she get you?" Ron asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"Nothing." Harry said, dismissively.

"Harry has… some kind of strange thing happening to him." Hermione replied sternly, cutting across him and wrenching Harry's hand over for Ron to see.

"Woah, that's weird." Ron said, turning the hand over. "It's like… It's kind of familiar."

Harry pulled his hand back, annoyed. "Look, it's a bit weird but we're having a nice morning – it's Christmas Day, Hermione, can we talk about this tomorrow or something?"

"But!" Hermione fired up immediately.

"Hermione come on, leave it for now, yeah?" Ron said, "He's right, let's just have a nice bloody day, yeah?"

She sat back glowering, her hair seeming bushier all of a sudden as she folded her arms.

Ten minutes later, with full bellies, Harry, Ron and a still quiet Hermione met with Pansy, Daphne, Sophia and Blaise near the entrance to the Great Hall.

They all stood there for a few seconds, as if daring each other to speak. Over the last week, both had introduced each other to their friends, but their friends remained acquaintances – at best – with each other.

As if on cue, Neville entered the hall, smiling and looking genuinely happy. "Morning Hermione," he said, "Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas, Neville." Hermione said.

Catching onto the tension, Neville looked to Pansy and the Slytherins. "Oh, sorry. 'Mornin Pansy, Happy Christmas."

Pansy smiled, "Merry Christmas Neville."

Harry blinked as Neville – seeming possessed by whatever energy of his mother's had been in the books – stepped closer to Pansy and gave her a slightly awkward one-armed hug,

"Morning everyone. It doesn't look like our friends are going to introduce us. I'm Neville Longbottom." He shook Blaise's hand before moving on to Daphne then Sophia.

Now everyone was frowning.

Blaise cleared his throat. "Hi -I mean: Hi Neville, I'm Blaise Zabini."

Wizarding formalities observed, the ice broke abruptly.

Daphne stepped forward and shook Ron's hand then Hermione's followed by Sophia who did the same, except she finished by hugging Harry.

"Sounds like you two dodged a bullet when you went off dancing in the moonlight." she said, punching Harry on the arm as she released him and giving him a huge, lascivious wink. "I got away before the olds showed up, too."