The envelope in Ominis' hands was made of thick, expensive parchment. It smelled like perfume and incense and bore the wax seal of House Gaunt on top. He almost didn't want to know what was on it: to Ominis, receiving mail from his family was the equivalent of getting a Howler in the Great Hall.

"I have never seen anyone be so unhappy to get a letter." The tension in Ominis' body dissipated as Allegra's warm, familiar presence sat next to him. He was sitting on a bench in the transfiguration courtyard, shaded by the sprawling tree in its center.

"I've got so much to tell you about the things Poppy and I have been up to in the Forbidden Forest. I met a centaur-" There was a pause as Allegra took in his sullen mood. "Come now, Ominis. It's almost Christmas! What's got you so down?"

Ominis wrinkled his nose. "Christmas," he said flatly.

"Oh." Allegra settled in beside him as they fell silent. In the distance, someone called her name and Ominis felt her wave a greeting in return. "Mind if I ask?"

He held the letter out. "Read for yourself," he grumbled. Then, "...and for me, too, please." There was a shuffling of paper as Allegra opened the letter. After a pause, she began to read.

"Son,

In light of recent events with the Sallows, your mother and I have taken to assuming that you will finally join your family for the holidays. Your mother will be most pleased to set an extra place for you at the table.

Send us your response immediately after receiving this letter.

Signed,

F. Gaunt."

Allegra let out a low whistle. "Well," she mumbled, "I can see now why you looked so glum. I've never read a more formal-sounding letter." He heard a shuffle as she folded the paper back into its envelope, hearing her mutter, "Son? That's all?"

"I haven't spent Christmas with my family in four years, Allegra. I kind of liked it that way." He accepted the letter when Allegra pressed it into his hands, tracing its corners with his thumb. "I'm not looking forward to it."

With a sigh, Ominis tapped his wand against the letter. He Transfigured it into a series of paper butterflies, listening to the sound of tiny wings rising into the air. "I'm sorry. I'm afraid I'm not going to be good company today."

Allegra's weight sank into his as she leaned into his shoulder. "Do you have to go?" she asked, tone thoughtful.

"I suppose not. A Christmas alone at Hogwarts would be better than going home." She hummed. "Are you open to any other options?"

Ominis paused. "I know that tone of voice," he said warily. "What are you planning?" Excitement was practically bubbling off of Allegra as she squeezed Ominis' hands in hers.

"You can spend Christmas with me, Ominis." Her voice was small, shy. "If—if you'd like, that is."

Ominis' head went reeling. Christmas, with Allegra?

"It would be my pleasure." He blurted out his response before he stopped himself from accepting the offer. Beside him, the Gryffindor girl let out a breath of relief.

"Good. That's—that's wonderful." She gave his hand a giddy, tender squeeze. "It'll be nice to get away from it all, won't it?"

"It really would."

A day before they were meant to leave, Ominis felt lost.

Because, if he were to admit it—and he was rather loathe to admit it—he didn't know how to go Christmas shopping for a girl.

A nice girl. With a nice voice. And an infectious smile.

He had no idea how he was supposed to do this, and he didn't want to think

After his last class (nap) of the term with Professor Binns, he found himself in Hogsmeade with pockets full of his unspent allowance. He was swept along in the Christmas rush of villagers and students alike who wanted to buy presents. Ears filled with clamoring voices and nose overwhelmed with a mixture of sweet and spicy scents, Ominis could barely navigate the snowy streets on his own. As if in understanding, the pulses coming from his wand started making a sharp, high-pitched sound. He could walk freely enough after that.

He was in Scrivenshafts Quills when a familiar voice rang out to his right.

"Is that you, Gaunt?" The voice sounded like mischief, carrying with it a scent of bubbling, sparking magic Ominis had come to associate with potion-making. Garreth Weasley's presence loomed behind him. A heavy hand lay on his shoulder. "What are you doing on your own in Hogsmeade?"

"I'm shopping, Weasley," Ominis drawled. He was used to the tone of his voice driving away other students, but Garreth was never really one for fear.

"Ah, still such a grump." He gave Ominis two heavy pats on the back. "Isn't Allegra with you?"

"No, I'm—"

"—Because I saw her in Gladrags with Natty and Poppy, and I swear I heard her whisper something about 'Christmas with Ominis.'" He said the last part in a high-pitched, singsong tone. "Are you getting her something?"

"You'd know if you'd let me get a word in," Ominis said irritably.

Garreth kept going. "Because I know exactly what she wants," the boy finished, "and you won't find any here."

"Are all you Gryffindors this exhausting?"

"No, I'm just special." The taller boy clapped both his hands on Ominis' shoulders. "And because I'm such a good chap, I'll tell you what it is for free."

Ominis felt him duck lower, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"Oh," Ominis mumbled. "She didn't seem the type."

"You'd be surprised. And you're welcome," Garreth said proudly. "Good day, Ominis! You'll get around fine on your own, won't you?" He ignored Ominis' reply and bounded out of the shop.

Ominis ended up buying an eagle-feather quill as a present from Scrivenshafts, paired with a few boxes of Honeydukes' infamous sweets for his host family. As he tucked the presents under his arm, he made his way out of the bounds of Hogsmeade. He needed somewhere else, somewhere special, for his last present.

The 23rd rolled around quicker than Ominis expected. He found, to his surprise, that he was especially looking forward to the holidays this year.

It was early in the morning. Allegra would be meeting him outside Hogwarts in an hour's time, so Ominis busied himself with packing his suitcases.

In the silence of his empty dormitory, a memory crept into Ominis' mind.

Sebastian and Anne hadn't gone home for Christmas in their third year. Instead, the three of them spent the holidays cooped up in the Undercroft, decorating the space with Transfigured ornaments. The pleasure of decorating was lost on Ominis. What was the point of sticking leaves and paper to walls and hanging glass balls on tree branches? The twins seemed to love it, though, so he bit his tongue and decorated to his heart's content.

That year, they'd snuck Christmas dinner from the Kitchens' house elves. It was hardly the feat of stealth and cunning Sebastian wanted it to be: they were practically given the food on sight.

"Can it get any better than this, Ominis?" Sebastian asked, slinging an arm around his shoulders. "You, me, and Anne versus the world?" He remembered feeling Anne come up to his other side, giving him one of her hugs.

That all seemed too long ago.

Ominis shook his head to clear his mind. Once he made sure everything was where it had to be, he crept out of the silent Slytherin dungeons, feeling lighter with every step.

The cold Scotland air blew around Ominis as he waited by the Hogwarts bridge. When he reached up, he felt soft snow melt on his palm.

"Goodness, don't you look lonely all by yourself?" he heard heavy footsteps approaching, bringing with them a scent of sweet citrus. Ominis couldn't help the smile that broke out on his lips when Allegra threw her arms around his neck. In reciprocation, Ominis' hands circled her waist. That shouldn't be so easy, he thought. As a rule, Ominis Gaunt did not hug.

But he liked it anyway. He smiled and gave her a squeeze.

"Gryffindor was having this party. I've been trying to get away for the last twenty minutes! Thank you for waiting." She took his hand and brought him to his feet. "We'll be taking a Portkey. Ready to go?"

Ominis laughed at her voice, which was giddy and breathless. "You may want to take a breath."

Allegra gave an exhilarated laugh. "Yes, sorry. It's just-I'm glad to get away."

"As am I."

A gentle silence settled over them both. After their night in the Room of Requirement and Solomon's proper funeral, neither Allegra nor Ominis really wanted to go on talking about what transpired on that day. They should-they both knew that-but they also knew life had to move on eventually.

Eventually, Ominis heard the shuffle of Allegra reaching into her pockets. "Ready to go?"

"Let's."

Allegra guided his fingers to the Portkey-it was something cold, metallic, and small-and before he knew it, Ominis was leaving Hogwarts.

They landed in a small, damp area. The loud snap of their Apparition echoed through the space, sending waves of sound up and around them. Ominis could smell the cool wind and dusty stone. Where were they?

"Are we here?"

"My house is only a short walk away, but we aren't heading there yet," Allegra said breathlessly. He heard her turn, listened as she breathed in the foreign air. "There was just something I wanted to do first. I thought I'd show you as much of the city as I could."

"Alright," Ominis murmured. "You know, I realize I haven't even asked you where you've taken me."

Allegra laughed. "I wanted it to be a surprise. Will you trust me?" "I already do."

He heard a few soft pops of magic as Allegra tapped on their suitcases. She slid his newly- shrunken luggage into one of his coat pockets.

"You should probably put your wand away for now," Allegra said. "We're on the Muggle side of the world."

"Right," Ominis mumbled. He slid it into his pocket, left slightly uncomfortable by the loss of his one surefire way of navigating.

"You can hold on to me, if you'd like," Allegra offered, suddenly sounding shy. "If you need to. I wouldn't mind."

He held out his hand: Allegra slid hers into his palm, callused fingertips brushing against his skin. This would be enough. Strictly speaking, it was more than enough, if they were only concerned about navigation.

He threaded their fingers together. Allegra didn't protest.

He squeezed. She squeezed.

This was more than enough.

Without another word and with matching pink flushes across their cheeks, they pressed on, stepping into the open air.

Ominis could tell they were somewhere on the outskirts of a city. The ground beneath his feet was paved, but the strong smell of fruit and greenery was still present. He could hear carriage wheels and a steam train in the distance. There were patches of grass crunching under his feet. There was even a salty, tangy wind brushing against his hair, rifling against his coat. There were bits of conversation all around. Ominis couldn't quite place the language that was being spoken.

"Allegra," Ominis said, "Dare I ask where you've taken me?"

She hummed. "That should have been your first question, I reckon." "You're not going to tell me, are you?"

"No," she sang.

"Because it's your life's mission to be difficult for me, isn't it?"

"Precisely." She giggled, and Ominis felt something small and warm jump for joy in his chest. "But I don't think you mind that."

He really, really didn't, and that was a rather frightening thought.

Ominis was led to an area that felt incredibly cramped. There were people shouting. Miscellaneous wares jingled and clinked. The air smelled pleasantly of fried things and roasted things and other food things, and Ominis' stomach gave an involuntary rumble. A loud rumble.

"Hungry?" Allegra teased.

"You didn't hear anything," Ominis said hotly. She was tugging him masterfully around the crowd, moving her touch to his shoulders and to his back as needed.

"Oh, please," she laughed. "Why else would I bring you to the market if not to feed you?"

"To sell me, I'd assume."

"As if you'd fetch me anything close to a decent price," Allegra drawled.

Ominis barked out a laugh. "I would fetch you an excellent price. Have you seen me?" She was relatively silent after that, but Ominis could still hear her muffled giggles.

"If you say anything about seeing," he warned, "I'm going to hurt you, see if I won't."

"I wasn't even going to! When have I ever—and how dare you threaten violence when I'm about to buy you the most wonderful food you've ever tasted?"

Allegra's hand left his, and Ominis felt rather upset by the loss. They'd come to a stop in front of what he assumed to be a food cart: the air was burnt hot here, paired with mouth-watering scents of bread and cheese. A man's voice rose over the noise of the market.

"Benvenuta, signorina! Cosa desidera prendere?"

When Allegra replied, flawlessly and without hesitation, something in Ominis was outright impressed.

"Possumo avere due pizze Margherita, per favore?" She asked cheerfully. "And, mm-Ominis, anything to drink?"

He blinked. "Whatever you're having."

"E due succhi di frutta, per favore. Grazie." Allegra looped her arm through his. "I promise you'll love it."

"You're bilingual?" He blurted. "How come you've never told me?" Allegra laughed. "I didn't exactly have the best opportunity to tell you"

"If I told you I was impressed," he began slowly, "how badly would your ego inflate?" He could practically trace that blasted (pretty, pretty) grin on her face.

"Very badly," she purred. "You'd have to Accio me down from the sky." Ominis blew out a sigh. "I'm impressed. There, Happy Christmas."

"Goodness, if I knew that was all it took to win your favor, I would've revealed it sooner," Allegra teased. He felt her duck closer, hand resting casually on his shoulder. "Ti piace quando parlo così?"

Ominis narrowed his eyes. "Dare I ask what you're saying?"

"Penso che tu sia adorabile quando arrossisci," she went on, voice dropping to a teasing whisper. Heat rushed to his cheeks. "I never should have said anything."

"Sei piuttosto affascinante, e alquanto irritantemente attraente." Allegra ended this particular sentence with a giggle.

"Will asking you to stop work?" Ominis sighed.

He really didn't want her to. He wanted to grab her face and push her cheeks together and demand she translate, and that in and of itself was a rather concerning thought.

Ominis didn't want to think it. Thinking it would make it real, and he wasn't sure if he was able to take another round of anything real.

Something warm and mouth-watering was held up to his chin. Allegra took his hand, wrapping it around his food. Ominis could practically see her bouncing.

"This is rather degrading," he mumbled.

"There's nobody else here," she teased, insistently tugging at his sleeve. "It's just you and me. You don't have to be cold, prissy Ominis with me. Be a good sport."

Ominis would be a good sport, in the name of Christmas. He obediently opened his mouth and took a bite. That little bit of bread, sauce, and cheese was heavenly, but the deliciousness of the whatever-it-was was rather overshadowed by the fact that she was hand-feeding him. Ominis could smell clementines and snow. The strands of her hair were tickling his cheek. She was close, only separated by the food she was holding up to his mouth. Something brave and bold and stupid in him wanted to push the food away and close the gap.

Gods, he was being such a bloody teenager. "Ominis?" Allegra prompted.

He blinked. "It's delicious," he said earnestly. "Where's the next stop?"

"No."

"Ominis—"

"No!"

"Stop being an infant and get on the boat."

"You are not going to make me."

"I don't know: I can be very convincing," Allegra said, and there were a few splashes and thumps of wood as she rose to her feet. "Please, Ominis?"

Ominis scoffed. "If you think that's going to work on me, Allegra—"

She would be right, because it was so very, very nice to hear her say please.

"Give me your hands."

Ominis gave her his best scowl.

Allegra, of course, wasn't fazed. "Come on," she said, voice dropping into a soothing tone. "I've got you. You know I do."

Sighing, he held out his hands. Allegra guided him down into the boat. It gave a dangerous sway: Ominis' hands tightened around hers, but her grip was firm and unflinching. He sat himself down with a soft huff.

He didn't let go. She didn't let go. This was enough.

"I suppose I should have asked you this before putting you on a boat," Allegra said, "But can you swim?"

His glare was murderous. Ominis really needed to stop letting his friends (she was a friend, just a friend) put him in precarious situations.

She teased him no further as the boat pushed away from the dock. Ominis could hear the soft, tinkling sounds of water, cut by the strong rushes of oars pushing against the open sea. There were other people around them. He could pick up faint chatter and the splashing of other oars in the distance. Ominis Gaunt didn't feel the same way about sailing as he did flying. There was something rather intimidating about the cold, heavy rush of water just under his feet, and if he had to choose between falling and drowning, Ominis knew which death he'd choose.

But their shoes were touching, and so were their knees, and Ominis wondered if he'd be able to make up enough of an excuse to reach out and hold her hand again. The cold air was pleasant against his flushed cheeks. He reached out over the side of the boat, skimming his hands over the water.

Allegra cleared her throat. "Ominis?" "Allegra?"

"Is it...really bad, with your family?" she asked softly. Ominis shrugged. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

She let out an annoyed huff. "You don't need to tell me about it if you don't want to, but I really wish you wouldn't be so sarcastic with me all the time."

"Forgive me," Ominis murmured. "It is. Bad, I mean. He told you about what it was like for me: I remember telling you some more in the scriptorium."

"He did," Allegra admitted. "You did talk about it a little."

"And I'll tell you more, one day," Ominis said. He held out his hand: to his delight, she slipped her own into it, as easily as if they'd been doing it for a lifetime. "We've dealt with enough

bad situations this year: I rather like being in this rickety boat with you, so can we talk about quite literally anything else?"

He felt her nod. "Of course. And just for the record, Ominis: I like being in this boat with you, too."

"Careful, you'll flatter me."

"Well, I don't know," Allegra said. "I think you could use some flattering." "Oh?"

"You like nice in this light," Allegra said. Her voice didn't shake: she said it firmly, sweetly, and Ominis felt something in him positively preen. "And I like your voice. There."

He laughed, and Allegra let out a soft chuckle of her own.

"Well?" he drawled. "Go on. That can't be all that you're giving me."

She laughed this time, and he decided that he enjoyed drawing that soft, tinkling sound from her lips.

They settled into a comfortable silence, letting time idle on by as the boat drifted against the waves. Allegra murmured descriptions of the sunset on the horizon. She told him of the light on the water and of the colors dancing in the sky, but he wanted to ask her about her. He wanted to reach over and feel the last warmth of the sun on her hair. He wanted to trace the outline of her cheeks and imagine what she looked like here, on this boat, sitting knee against knee. Ominis blew out a sigh. He took her other palm into his lap and traced it, finding comfort in the fact that Allegra was so open to this. To this touching. To this attention.

"There goes the sun," Allegra said eventually. Her voice was strangely squeaky and high-pitched. "We should head back: it's going to get much colder soon. I think my cheeks are already freezing off."

Ominis chuckled. "Gods," he mused. "You would not have survived the Scottish winter." Allegra groaned. "Dare I even imagine?"

"You're lucky you aren't a Slytherin. Our dorms get terribly cold." She snickered. "Terribly fitting, I think."

"Don't, Allegra. Don't ruin it."

"Something-something, cold-blooded snakes," she purred, and Ominis couldn't help but let out a soft huff of laughter.

"I would've snuck you into Gryffindor," she went on. "It's perfectly toasty there. I love rooming with Natty: she likes the heat all the way up, just as much as I do."

"I've learnt how to adjust," Ominis said, shrugging. "In fact, I've invented this rather handy trick." "I'm perfectly capable of casting a Warming Charm, Ominis, thank you very much."

"Not like this one."

Ominis put his hands together, murmuring the incantation for a focused Warming Charm. As his palms heated up, he held them out and pressed them against Allegra's cheeks, grinning at her pleased sigh.

She nuzzled into his touch.

Ominis' heart gave a painful, painful beat. He leaned in.

Gods above, she also moved closer by a fraction. They were so close.

He could just-he should just-

Somewhere in the distance, a great big bell gave a very loud DING. "Oh," Allegra blurted, pulling away from his hands. "That's our cue."

Allegra led them away from the docks, pulling him by his hand back into the city. They were surrounded by a crush of people, even more so than in the market. Here, Ominis could hear the sounds of soft chatter echoing on a large scale, as if there were dozens of people packed in a single room. It felt like the Great Hall with far better acoustics.

She guided Ominis down to a seat. Under his fingers, he felt hard, sturdy wood. People-older women, by the sound of it-were chatting amicably to his right. Allegra whispered a greeting to them. She received a delighted reply.

"Where are we?" he whispered to Allegra.

"A Cathedral," she replied softly.

Ominis blinked. "A what?"

She shushed him with a nudge. Just in time, too, because there was a loud tapping of a stick against wood. A hush settled over the room.

Strangely, a deep voice began chanting to the people gathered in the Cathedral. The man spoke with a deep baritone voice, reciting what sounded like a poem in tones of deep reverence. Ominis finally narrowed down the language he was hearing: was that Spanish?

He nearly jumped when the entire room answered the man's chant with a single, resounding word. And then, at Allegra's insistent nudge, Ominis turned his focus to the front of the room.

There was a soft chord of music. Ominis recognized the tinkling sounds of a harpsichord. The opening of the song was joined by strings. And, after the first few notes, someone began to sing.

Oh Santa Notte le stelle son splendenti, In questa Notte è nato Gesù.

The voice was male: strong, sweet, and well-practiced. He heard Allegra give a suppressed, delighted sigh somewhere to his right. Then there was a familiar weight sinking into his shoulder. She was leaning on him.

He summoned every bit of courage he had in him—a dormant Gryffindor, somewhere beneath all of his overall Slytherin-ness—and leaned his cheek against the top of her head.

She let out a contented sigh.

Perhaps there was a bright side to foolhardy bravery after all.

A lungo giacque il mondo nell'errore, Finchè Egli apparve la luce a portar.

In the next breath, Ominis felt shivers rise up his spine. A choir joined in on the song. Booming baritones, melodic altos, and soaring Soprano notes rang through the air.

Un canto novo di gioia e di speranza Riempie il cuore di luce di bonda.

The echoing acoustics in the Cathedral made the choir's voices ring out from every corner. He could feel the vibrations on his skin. And when the music swelled, Ominis felt as if he was carried away with it.

Because the entire Cathedral had joined in on the song.

Gloria al Signor! In cielo e sulla terra! Oh Notte Divina!

Oh Notte del Signor!

To his right, Allegra's voice joined the rest. Her singing voice was sweet, melodic, and just a little bit impressive-she could really hold a note. Where had she been hiding that? Ominis felt his eyes slide shut, savoring the sound and feel of Allegra beside him.

Natal, natal, nato e Gesù.

And as the song ended, he could feel her eyes gazing at him. Scattered applause and pleased murmurs broke out in the room. There was a voice: the same man from before spoke a few words, ones that sounded less formal than his opening recitation. Ominis heard a great shuffling of voices, footsteps, and movement as people spilled out of the room.

"Welcome to Italy, Ominis," she breathed.

He was learning so many new things today.

Ominis learned, in the span of an hour or so, that he'd just attended something like a worshiping ceremony. He learned about a Muggle deity and learned that the songs were all in their honor, but the one he'd heard was only specifically meant for Christmas.

Ominis' mind was filled with confusion and curiosity. He was in Muggle Italy, holding on to Allegra like a lifeline, letting her lead him to the front of the Cathedral.

"Papa!" Allegra cried delightedly. Suddenly Ominis was running, swept away in her grip. There was a deep laugh and a grunt as Allegra was swept up in a bone-crushing hug.

"Welcome home, my girl," a man said happily. Ominis was surprised to hear a familiar English accent and even more surprised when he placed the voice: it was the tenor who'd led the song. "Ah, who's this?"

"I'm Ominis, sir," he said, suddenly conscious of his voice. "Ominis Gaunt." He felt a firm hand enthusiastically shake his.

"You'll be that friend she mentioned, then. Hungry? Good! Let's head home. Your mother will be waiting."

Mr. Chant led them to a secluded corner of the Cathedral. Holding both kids by their hands, he Apparated them away.

Sirona was glad for the quietness of the holidays. Although she kept the Three Broomsticks open in the evenings, the Christmas season meant more people would be staying in their homes. It was a chance for rest and respite.

Today she was wiping down empty barrels that had once held Butterbeer. Rarely did she get the chance to do this sort of quiet, contemplative work. Sirona knew she could very well have cast a Scourgify and be done with it, but there was something comforting about using her hands.

She thought of the small ham she'd treated herself to sitting in the oven and the bottle of wine chilling under a Glacius. Christmas dinner would be a quiet affair, just how she liked it.

Sirona was heaving a freshly cleaned barrel to the back of the room when she heard the door open.

"Sorry, we're closed!" she called out, dropping the heavy wooden barrel and setting her hands on her hips. When Sirona turned to the door, she felt her heart drop to her stomach.

"Need any help with those?" Sebastian Sallow was standing on her doorstep, wearing a dark green jumper that had seen better days and looking like he'd just dragged himself halfway across Scotland.

"Merlin's beard," she breathed. "There's a face of a man gone through hell."

"Hello, Sirona," the boy's gaze dropped to his feet. "Room for me in here?"