This chapter is going to be longer… and it still has a weird, broken rhythm to it. I wanted it out by Christmas, though, so this is what you're going to get.

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November was cold. So-so-so cold. And yet, as snow held off in favor of frost, as the Slytherin Common Room began to be described as warm, even as everyone else bundled up in winter robes; Zina stayed in the thinner robes. To her, it just felt... normal. As in, it didn't feel cold. Aside from her, Asher also had to be nagged into the thicker clothing.

Also, Harry's first Quidditch match was fast approaching. Saturday was only a few days away. Yet, after Herbology, Zina was pulled aside. She couldn't tell if she was in trouble or not; Prof. Sprout was a kind soul, and Zina hadn't noticed anything wrong, buuuuttt... it seemed a little off in the year to be talking strictly academics.

The trip to Dumbledore's office proved her wrong.

"Zina... Another Letter came from Department X... they recommend you start a sort of accelerated learning program..."

"What?" Zina asked.

"An accelerated learning progr-"

"-I heard you the first time, I'm not deaf." Zina took a deep breath. "I just... don't understand why."

"Well, they figured it would be a wise choice to have you graduate early. You are ahead of the Ravenclaws, after all."

"That's because I have nothing else to do." No one to goof off with... except my twin and his friends, but they're all doing their own things.

"I believe you could be wrong about that, Miss Potter."

"Why"

"Well, I'm sure your scores from primary school would prove you have a lot of potential. Variables in Kindergarten! It's a wonder you hadn't skipped a grade already."

And with that, Dumbledore released her.

A few days (repetitious lessons had been replaced with one-on-one schooling) later, and it was Saturday. Harry's first game-day. Zina wouldn't miss it for the world. With her gut feeling set to dread, that was no wonder.

And they had concessions. It was almost lunchtime, after all.

"Now," said the distant voice of Madam Hooch, "I want a fair game, all of you." More loudly, she continued, "Mount your brooms, please." Aaaaaaaaand... the whistle was blown.

And that's how Zina learned Lee Jordan was a very biased commentator.

Hagrid came up, there were a few false alarms over the snitch (Zina was beginning to wonder if everyone else was blind, IT WAS RIGHT THERE). And then, it came.

~Harry on a broomstick, crashing into the stadium.~

~Harry's broom catching him off guard and throwing him.~

~The Hospital wing, with just Harry there, all memories lost as a figure slit his throat.~

~The same hospital wing, but filled with all the players from the field, a few students, colors of Red and Green splattered with the black-brown of dried blood, Harry still bleeding red.~

~An adult standing up suddenly, changing their plans and using Harry for magical homicide.~

~A purple-her purple-bubble barely protecting her from the same fate.~

Zina was paralyzed. That's so much bigger than before. She almost didn't notice Hermione setting things on fire... the distraction proved useful, and whoever had been standing up in her 'visions' let go of the curse on Harry's broom... Zina took a deep breath. Harry is safe.

Zina almost missed him swallowing the snitch.

Oh, well...

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Zina decided, when she finally had a break, that the best idea would be to 'take a nap'. She found a portal in her dream-world that didn't feel like someone else's, and that led her back to the spectral state she had been in on Halloween. She had seen Harry and his friends heading to Hagrid's hut.

Zina arrived just in time to hear Harry's voice say a strange-to-normal-society name: "So there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"

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December finally arrived, colder than November. Snow finally fell on the 14th. Zina fully supported what the Weasley twins decided to with that snow. No one else ever seemed to realize how shady Quirrell was.

Even in the colder-than-the-month-before weather, Zina didn't feel the need to change into winter robes. Seriously why was everyone hovering over their cauldrons during Potions?

And in one Potions lesson, Mr. Sour Donut decided to speak up.

"I do feel sorry," said the jealous blond, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

"And I pity myself, who wants to stay at Hogwarts because I'm 'wanted' at home," muttered Asher.

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Zina noticed her brother and friends in the library. What were they even thinking, trying to find Flamel's name in books like Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century and Important Modern Magical Discoveries? He was literally centuries old!

Then again, she was in the library on her own personal project, figuring out what the Hogwarts relics even were, and (arguably) more importantly where to find them. Yetsofar, she had figured out that there was at least one for each house. Hufflepuff had a cup, whether it was a chalice or a trophy Zina wasn't really sure; Godric Gryffindor's sword was in Dumbledore's office; and Salazar Slytherin may have passed his onto the Peverell family. Who they were, she didn't know. But they were mentioned, so the must have been important. Asking Madam Pince wasn't an option, she was shooing Harry from the restricted section. (To be fair, she had seen there were a few things on Flamel there, a journal of his was on one of the higher shelfs, the type that she had barely been able to read the binding of.)

Either way, she took that as her own cue to leave… As she based by the trio, she got a confirmation: Hermione's parents were dentists.

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The Christmas holiday was cool. Zina could pick any common room she liked to just hang out in, with most of the Slytherin blood purists home for Christmas. The muggleborn students there, quiet and almost invisible next to their Housemates, also had a lot of home-going members, leaving the common room quieter than Ravenclaw during the occasional required reading 'silence'. Gryffindor's common room, though near empty with Harry and the Weasleys being the only ones she saw in there, was quite exciting, except that everyone else was essentially buddied up and Zina could only tolerate watching Harry lose to Ron at wizard's chess so many times.

Which made Hufflepuff the best. Aside from the awesome magically enlarged padded space for more active games, there was a huge amount of hang-out space. The space was probably so large due to population, with the compassionate ones Helga Hufflepuff had searched for and those that didn't quite fit in any other house both contributing. The Puffs introduced her to games like Red Rover, varieties of tag, and football. (Soccer, her mind said, making her question her British citizenship.) Yeah, playing with the Puffs did beat out her other options.

Like actually studying. She had barely done her homework the entirety of the week (because being in the fast track meant she had lessons over the holiday) and was still acing. Every. Single. Class. She did not remember learning the lesson, yet all classwork was easily completed, and the homework was a breeze. That didn't mean she liked lessons eating up her time.

On Christmas Eve, Zina finally got a break (from lessons) with over ¾ of the year covered. If she could catch up with the year ahead… maybe she'd have regular lessons again. She didn't think that would happen, though. But that hardly mattered. Tonight, instead of isolating herself in her room, she'd make use of that nice couch in the Gryffindor common room.

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Zina woke to snoring upstairs. How early is it, I was sure Ron would be up first. She groggily rubbed her eyes, and reluctantly shoved off the blanket.

"Maybe I should … yAwn … get the boys up," she said to the now empty couch.

clump. clump. clump. Her feet may have felt heavy-ish, but they were still incredibly light.

"Hey," she whispered. "Harry, it's time to get up." She shook his shoulder.

"Wha?" Harry said, blinking his eyes.

"Come on, help me get Ron up."

"Okay…" Harry rolled onto his stomach and pushed against his bed. When Harry was finally on his feet, Zina dragged him over to Ron's bed.

"Three, two, one," she counted.

"RON!" one, two, three… "UP!"

Harry's broom, for some reason near Ron's bed, responded to Zina's command and hit her in the face.

"Whut? Is it morning?" Ron asked.

"Yes…" Zina replied. "Ow, my nose… at least it didn't break my glasses."

"What happened to you?" Ron asked.

"Harry's broom had rolled to by your bed…" Zina explained. "We literally shouted Up, don't know why it hit me in the nose and not Harry… Ow."

"Ohhhh… kay?" Ron replied, kinda confused.

"I saw presents with your names on them downstairs, hurry!" Zina nearly shouted, her facial pain quickly forgotten.

Wrapping paper practically flew around the room, the three children very excited. After all, Harry hadn't expected any.

Zina had though. Mentioning Lack of Presents to a friend with a mother who Mothers (actively, 'cause can't when dead) usually results in them Doing Something about it.

And really, Harry should have expected Zina to get him something. To be fair, though, she hadn't expected to have Twix bars to give to either of the boys.

Zina's first present matched Harry's" a beautiful handknit sweater with fudge ("You got Weasley Sweaters too?").

Hermoine had gotten them chocolate frogs (Nothing compared to the INFINITE notebook I gave her, Zina had thought), Ron apparently counted his gift to them to be the letter he sent his mom. Then again, Harry hadn't gotten a present for anyone, his twin sister included.

Harry got a present from the Dursley's, so Zina really should have expected her own, they kinda liked her better than Harry. (She was going to remedy that when she got home, telling them that she's good enough at magic to get a head start should do the trick. Or maybe she'll use it to get herself and Harry out of there… Hmmm…)

Either way, the Dursley's had given her something absolutely touching: a recipe book with her mother's handwritten notes.

She was carefully setting that down when Harry unwrapped his final present: a beautiful cloak, light and silvery, with a touch of magic that brought the name Peverell to the front of her mind.

"I've heard of those," Ron reverently broke the silence. "If that's what I think it is…"

Ron trailed off. "They're rare, so rare, and even more valuable."

"What is it?" asked Zina's oblivious brother, wrapping the cloak around him, not noticing as he became a—visibly at least—floating head.

"Harry, it's an invisibility cloak," Zina said, not jealous of the fact Harry could now use invisibility—she was sure there were other ways—but of what she knew was on the note Harry had yet to read.

"Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you.

Use it well.

A Very Merry Christmas to you."

No signature, but Zina could guess the handwriting. She had seen it a few times before…

Before she could lay out her ideas, Fred and George entered the room.

"Merry Christmas!"

"Hey, you guys have Weasley sweaters too!"

"Yours is better though." Fred picked up the emerald one Harry got. "She obviously puts more of an effort into it if you're not family."

Zina refrained from pointing out that Mrs. Weasley was acting on Motherly Instinct when making her and Harry's sweaters.

Then Percy came down, Weasley sibling shenanigans ensued, and they finally went out to do things.

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Christmas dinner (lunch) was cool. There was loads to eat, and Zina was wowed by all the ✧˖°.WiZaRdInGtWiStS.°˖✧. The adults got drunk, and Zina was fairly certain she turned a mouse into glitter, but that didn't make it any less fun. She left the table with various and numerous candy packages and several hats (and one tiara).

Then they went outside and had a couple of snowball fights. (Zina was no longer allowed to play because the boys lost one too many rounds against her, so she made an elaborate snow fort.)

After dinner, Zina hung out with the 'Puffs because she wasn't going to help Percy or the Weasley twins in the chase.

When bedtime rolled around, Zina felt… a thing. A feeling. Her Twin Sense (or whatever) was triggered. Harry was going to be Doing Something that night.

So, Zina once again used her dream-world access to the real world.

She "loaded in" just outside Gryffindor tower, just in time to see Harry come out under the invisibility cloak.

Wait, that can't be right, Zina thought. It's and invisibility cloak. And yet, she could see a semi-transparent Harry under an even more transparent grey cloak.

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(dramatic cliffhanger because I want this out by Christmas)

Well, this chapter is finally over. I wasn't sure how to end it, which is how you got this cliffhanger. I think that I also need to know whether this plotline or writing style qualifies as crack.

I also hope you noticed that Asher is also kinda suspicious (not just because he's an OC). That's because he's supposed to be. He takes the cold like Zina does… and probably also calls Draco a Sour Doughnut. I think(know) that I really want to keep that as a recurring meme-ish thing.

I also did not like coming up with gift ideas. Also, I may have made my fantastical (and off canon if you pay attention to things like the games, but it also makes sense…) Hufflepuff Common Room.

And I think that Zina (the me-ish character) is a lot smarter (or just lucky thinking) than me. It makes sense because she's had literal thousands of years (some of which spent as a rock) to think about it. That's also why she's mastered (or rather, remastered) her powers so quickly. And also, working with variables in Kindergarten is impressive, especially if you actually think of it in context of the time the actual books take place in.

Also, I am American, and Zina feels that and is slightly confused.