Hermione
"Hello Theo," Hermione says glumly as she steps out of the Gryffindor common room. Theo wordlessly nods and they begin to make their way to the Library.
It's been two days since Harry, Ron, Neville, Blaise, and Daphne left for Christmas break, and already Hermione is feeling claustrophobic.
The constant hovering of her friends had been bad enough before the holidays, but this is ten times worse. Theo and her are friends, sure, but mostly it's in that awkward "friend of a friend" way.
Hermione's parents had sent her a letter three days before the break, saying that they'd be going on an unexpected vacation/dentist conference in America and Hermione needs to stay at school. Harry had not taken the news well, and only calmed down once Theo had promised to keep watch over Hermione.
Apparently 'keeping watch' means never ever leaving Hermione alone outside of (thankfully) the bathroom and the Gryffindor tower.
At least this way, her and Theo might be able to make some headway on their Chamber of Secrets research project.
The petrification of Justin Finch-Fletchley had been a solemn reminder as to just how serious this whole ordeal is, and Hermione genuinely believes it's up to them to find the culprit and then hopefully stop them, too.
The two arrive at the Library and silently begin researching, slipping into the routine they've established over the last two days. Read, take notes, gather material, read some more, and take breaks for eating (neither of them are very good at the last one, but an irritated Madam Pince keeps ushering them out every four hours or so and telling them to grab a bite and something to drink).
Hermione doesn't think she's said more than eight words in the last two days. She sighs, scribbling down yet another student's name. Hermione loves research, but it's going to be a long holiday break.
Neville
"Hi mum," Neville says softly.
Alice sighs sadly, but otherwise doesn't move from looking out the window. Some visits are like this; Alice in a despondent mood that nothing can pull her from it. It hurts Neville like nothing else to see her like this, but he always puts in an effort.
"School's been really… well, I was going to say great, but there's a monster running around petrifying students which isn't ideal. But I've been having a great time!
"I made myself a wand. My friends were all very impressed. Apparently making a wand is a big deal, but I don't think it was too hard. Maybe wand making is just… really advanced Herbology. I don't know.
"I've been trying to keep it hidden from Gran because… ha, you know how she gets about dad."
Neville looks over at his Gran, who's whispering softly to Neville's dad.
"Anyways, I brought it with me. I thought you might like to see it?"
Alice doesn't move her head, and Neville shrugs.
"That's alright. I'll show you another time. My new wand has helped me recognize my magic. Turns out I've been using a lot more magic than I'd thought, but it's just usually really subtle and scattered all over the place."
Alice starts crying softly and Neville furtively wipes his eyes.
"Sorry. I wish… I wish I could make it better, mum," he whispers.
His Gran stands up softly and blows her nose.
"Neville, I'm going to see if I can get another blanket for Frankie. I'll be right back."
Neville nods and his Gran leaves.
"Oh!" Neville says after a moment of thought. "I have another thing I can show you, and I think you'll really like this one. It's a pretty neat trick."
No response, but he hadn't been expecting one.
Neville closes his eyes, furrows his brow, and reaches out for that feeling of home and warmth and safety he's come to recognize as the feeling of magic. He locates what he's come to think of as the handhold without too much trouble (it's right behind his heart today), and pulls the warmth down to his fingertips.
He can feel it moving through his veins, flowing from his heart and pooling at his fingers. Once the warmth builds up and becomes almost unbearably hot, Neville holds his hands up and blows on them, as though he's spreading a handful of dandelion seeds.
As he does, his magic manifests in the air, looking first like a shimmering heat wave before coalescing into the shape of a massive silver lion. It shakes itself out, then turns to look at Neville. Neville sits back heavily, nodding towards Alice and focusing hard on the feeling of warmth that's flowing from him to the Patronus.
The lion nods and trots over to the weeping woman. It leans its massive head on her shoulder, pressing into her. Alice takes a shuddery gasp, then to Neville's amazement, reaches a hand out and begins stroking the lion's mane. The lion closes its eyes and leans even more into Alice and begins to purr.
They sit like that for a long moment, watching from the window as the snow falls onto the street below.
Daphne
Daphne sits next to her mother, back straight and without a strand of hair out of place. She'd prefer to be sitting with her friends, but her mother had insisted that she's old enough to sit with the adults.
The women have all gathered in one corner of the game room, talking politics. The men, meanwhile, are busying themselves watching a 'friendly' game of pool.
The dinner part of the annual Malfoy Yule Dinner has yet to officially begin, so Daphne is passing the time by paying rapt attention to what the older women have to say. For a group of women that tend to meet every other week, they sure have a lot of gossip to share.
Daphne is trying her hardest to stay unentertained (to spite her mother) but can't help but perk up when Lady Parkinson turns to Lady Malfoy with a mischievous grin and says, "I don't think I've ever seen Lucius look so flushed. Is he coming down with something, do you think? Poor dear."
Daphne looks over to the group of men and notes that Lord Malfoy is indeed looking particularly pink. Daphne, feeling lost, turns back to see what Lady Malfoy says.
Lady Malfoy curls her lips into a little smile and takes a sip of her wine.
"If he is, it looks to me that your husband is coming down with the same thing."
Lady Parkinson raises her glass in Lady Malfoy's direction, eyes glinting in amusement.
Daphne turns to look at Lord Parkinson and yes, there he is, face red. Daphne knows there's a veiled barb here, but she can't for the life of her figure out what it could be.
The women all lean back, content to observe the game for a moment.
Daphne tries to see what they're seeing but it just looks like a run-of-the-mill game of pool: Lord Malfoy is evidently one of the two players and it seems to be his turn. He takes careful aim with the cue before making his shot. Daphne can't see the results of the shot, but Lord Malfoy steps back and looks satisfied, so it must have been good.
Then Lord Malfoy steps aside to allow the other player to take his turn. To Daphne's mild surprise, none other than Remus Lupin steps up to the table, expertly twirling his cue.
He's discarded his suit jacket, and the sleeves of his white dress-shirt are rolled up to his elbows. Remus has an expression of intense focus and as he leans over to take his turn, several of the pureblooded lords conspicuously look away, faces flushing darker than before.
Daphne blinks as the other women titter.
Lady Parkinson sighs. "It's a damn shame he's such a radical. Those forearms should be criminal."
"I'll toast to that," Daphne's mother laughs, raising her glass.
The other women follow suit and Daphne commends herself on not both bursting into laughter and tears. Who knew? Half of the pureblood elite apparently have it bad for Remus Lupin.
Daphne knows one thing for certain: Harry can never know.
Blaise
Blaise picks at his food, less interested in whatever bland cuisine Lord and Lady Malfoy think is acceptable for their Yule Dinner than he is in the conversation his mother is currently embroiled in.
"Explain to me again the purpose of your proposed bill," the Contessa says, food sitting untouched in front of her.
"Which one?" Remus asks tiredly. "I have three active proposals, and another four in the works."
"Any," the Contessa says eagerly, leaning forward. "All. You've been making political waves of the like that haven't been seen coming from Britain for decades."
Blaise would be worried as to how flirtatious his mum is acting towards (essentially) Harry's dad, except for the fact that this is just how she is and Blaise has long since become used to it.
Remus laughs, a tad awkwardly. "You flatter me, Contessa Zabini. They aren't very interesting, I'm afraid."
"From what I've heard about you? I doubt that very much, Mister Lupin. Your proposed amendment that intended to further integrate a more modern democratic system into the Wizengamot was a masterpiece, plain and simple. It's nothing short of a tragedy that it didn't pass."
Remus opens his mouth to respond, but Blaise's mum continues, "and don't get me started on the many other programs you're trying to implement that are dragging Magical Britain kicking and screaming into the future."
Remus blushes hard as he looks down at his scarred hands. "You really do flatter me. I must remind you that none of those have been successful. Also, please, call me Remus."
"Remus, then. And none have been successful yet. Give it time," the Contessa says, smiling gently. Then, as she raises a forkful of carrots to her mouth, she conversationally adds, "also, you simply must call me Juno."
Blaise grins into the glass of water he'd just raised to his lips to drink. The conversation is definitely more interesting than the food.
His mum and Remus Lupin becoming friends doesn't bode well for the infrastructure of any magical governing body, and Blaise for one can't wait to see the fallout.
Harry
"What are you doing here, Potter? Don't tell me you're snooping."
Harry groans, turning around to face Malfoy.
"I'm not snooping," Harry scoffs. "I'm… looking around. In a very normal and non-snooping way."
He doesn't want to admit he's trying to find and catch the peacock he'd accidentally let in through the kitchen entrance.
Harry had been excited for the Yule dinner up until he found out that the whole thing would just be his friends and Remus spending the whole time schmoozing with a bunch of stuffy pureblood lords and ladies. And then to top it all off, he'd found out it would be held at Malfoy Manor.
Harry had managed to slip away rather early on, claiming to Remus that he has a headache and needs to lay down.
Instead he'd spent the last few hours dismantling, then reconstructing suits of armor; missing Merlin (who's at home); and running around the gardens chasing peacocks.
"Likely story," Malfoy spits.
He's looking particularly stuffy today. Harry is pretty sure his hair is a solid mass of gel.
"Believe it or not, Malfoy," Harry shrugs. "It's what I was doing."
"Well, stop doing it," Malfoy says angrily. "You can't just be wandering around in my home."
Harry shrugs again, and goes back to opening and closing doors, peeking into each one in the hopes of finding a certain albino bird that couldn't have gotten far.
Malfoy's face goes red and his wand is suddenly out and pointed at Harry. Harry freezes, and grabs onto his magic.
"You're really going to hex a guest?" Harry asks disbelievingly.
"I'd argue that you're an intruder at this point," Malfoy says, eyes narrowed and wand unwavering.
Suddenly, a house elf in a plain linen tunic appears and Harry jumps. Malfoy just glares at the elf.
"Heir Malfoy is not to use magic on the guests of Malfoy Manor. The Lord and Lady would be very disappointed, and Heir Malfoy knows better."
Malfoy glowers at the elf, but pockets the wand.
The elf turns to Harry and Harry has to clamp down hard on his magic as he realizes he recognizes the elf. Harry hopes desperately that his expression stays neutral, but he can't be sure it does.
"Mister Potter needs to stay away from the places he doesn't belong," Dobby says.
There isn't so much of a flicker of recognition in Dobby's flat expression as he looks at Harry impassively.
Harry swallows, stomach flipping uncomfortably.
"Er, yeah. Sorry," he says. "Uh. There may or may not be a peacock loose somewhere in here."
Dobby nods once, then disappears without a sound and Harry represses a shudder.
Malfoy irritably jerks his head and a reeling Harry wordlessly follows the boy through the maze of halls until they reach the sitting room where everyone has gathered after dinner. Harry tries not to feel the stares of the older purebloods, but can't help it. He hadn't actually had a headache, but he feels one developing now.
Malfoy blessedly splits off from Harry as soon as they walk in, and Harry goes to join Remus where he's sitting with Mrs. Malfoy and the Contessa.
Harry likes the Contessa well enough, but Mrs. Malfoy looks at him as though he's a puzzle to be solved and it makes Harry distinctly uncomfortable.
"Hey, Harry," Remus says. "Feeling better?"
"Er, not really," Harry says. "Can we, uh, can we go home?"
Harry isn't sure, but he thinks he sees a flash of relief in Remus's eyes as he nods, smiling softly.
Remus inclines his head, first to the Contessa and then to Mrs. Malfoy. "It was wonderful to meet you, Juno. And Narcissa, thank you for the lovely evening. Give Lord Malfoy my regards. We'll see ourselves out."
The two women bid Remus farewell and Remus and Harry make their way to the apparition point.
"Ready?" Remus asks, holding out an arm.
"Ready," Harry nods, and they apparate home.
Ron
"Oh, I'm so happy my family is all together for the holidays," Ron's mum cries as she bustles around, waving her wand and sending assorted sugar cookies, ornaments, wrapped presents, and strings of popcorn flying around.
Christmas at the Burrow is always chaotic, but Ron usually loves it. To him, chaos is where he feels the most at home.
Of course, this year Ron is mostly just worried about whether Theo and Hermione are safe, which puts a bit of a damper on the whole thing. He's pulled out of his reverie as the twins suddenly run past, chased by a furious Charlie who is lobbing hexes left and right at the two. Charlie seems to be… completely bald?
Bill walks in holding a couple mugs of cocoa, expertly side-stepping the twins as they run by and avoiding a collision by mere inches. He hands their dad a mug (who takes it gratefully) and goes to sit heavily in a lumpy armchair, squashing Ginny.
"Good to be home, eh Gin?" Bill teases as he plops his mug onto a side-table.
"Get off Bill," Ginny mutters, shoving Bill off.
"Oh! Oh! You got me," Bill cries as he falls slowly to the floor, clutching his chest.
He hits the floor and lies still, tongue poking out of his mouth.
"If you'd really died your tongue would be sticking in the opposite direction," Percy says idly from his place on the couch without looking up from the parchment he's scribbling on.
Bill hastily switches it so the tongue is obeying the laws of gravity and Ron rolls his eyes.
"Don't pretend to die, Bill," Molly chides. "I can't bear to even think about it."
Ginny nods furiously in agreement. She's been especially sensitive since Colin, and doesn't look like she's been sleeping very well.
Bill sits up. "Sorry, mum," he says sheepishly.
"No worries, dear," Molly says warmly before hurrying off again.
"How's school?" Bill asks suddenly from the floor, leaning against the couch.
Ron, Percy, and Ginny all exchange a glance.
"Fine," they say at once.
Bill blinks, then laughs and shakes his head. He turns to Arthur. "Teenagers, am I right?"
Arthur stares at Bill, eyes narrowed. "Aren't you a teenager?"
Bill stares at Arthur, looking like he's trying to figure out if Arthur's being serious or not.
Arthur manages to keep a straight face for approximately four seconds before he bursts into loud laughter. He wipes away a tear, saying, "I'm so glad you're all home for Christmas."
Theo
"Hermione!" Theo calls out, before grunting in pain as another of the cat-sized matte black colored creatures latch onto his leg.
He dispatches the one that had been going for his face before turning around and stabbing at the one on his leg until it falls off, dead. Theo shoots off a blasting curse, knocking back another two.
"I don't know how much longer I can hold them off!
Truth be told, their numbers seem to be waning. But Theo has been at this for what feels like hours, and he's fading fast.
"I've almost got it," Hermione grits out, balancing precariously on a make-shift tower made out of assorted books, chairs, charms, desks, and hope. She's stretching her hand out, grabbing blindly at the books on the highest shelf.
"You just need to keep them back- for another- thirty- seconds!"
Theo takes a moment to wipe his forehead, arm coming back covered in blood and dust.
Theo grimaces, then ducks as a wailing shadow creature flies over him and crashes into a bookshelf. Theo turns and sends another knife flying, pinning a particularly large monster against a bottom shelf.
Shit. he's down to two knives- and none of the hexes he's tried so far has worked on the things in any meaningful way.
Theo rolls to the side and out of the way of a group of advancing monsters before standing up in one fluid motion, slashing out around him as he does. Another four monsters fall to the ground, bleeding ink.
"Got it!" Hermione yells, waving her prize.
Then she shrieks as she slips and the already precarious tower comes tumbling to the ground. Theo wastes no time dashing to where the girl had fallen, stabbing wildly at the ink monsters in his way and resolutely ignoring the pulsing pain in his leg.
Hermione coughs and sits up, waving a hand in front of her face to clear the dust.
She dislodges a chair or two as she stands up, clutching a huge blue book to her chest. Hermione's hair is covered in a fine layer of white dust and coming almost entirely loose from the ribbon she had tied it back with. She turns to Theo, grinning crazedly.
Theo returns the grin with a nod, then flings another knife at a creature that had been trying to sneak up on him.
Hermione whistles in appreciation as she takes in the scene before her: dozens of dead or dying inky monsters strewn around; some in pieces, others pinned to the shelves and twitching weakly.
"I think you actually got most of them," she says, turning to get a better look at Theo. "Oh, you're bleeding."
"You are too," Theo points out, looking meaningfully at a particularly long gash on Hermione's arm.
Hermione and Theo look at each other for a moment, and then Hermione nods.
"Can't argue with that," she decides. "Anyways, let's get out of here."
Hermione starts picking her way out of the fallen tower, shooting the occasional knockback jinx at the brave (or suicidal) stragglers that try to attack. Theo hurriedly gathers up what knives he can, then goes to limp after Hermione.
"You do know the way back," Theo confirms.
Hermione scoffs. "You have your knives, I have my memory. I know the way back."
"That book had better be worth it," Theo says.
"No kidding," Hermione grumbles, blowing a tuft of hair out of her face. "The restricted section takes itself really seriously."
"You think?" Theo says, pulling Hermione out of the way of another leaping ink creature, all teeth and fangs and snarls. "What triggered that enchantment?"
"I know some of the bigger wizarding libraries have built-in protections. These," Hermione says disgustedly as she pointedly steps on an oozing creature, "are probably a version of those."
"So you're saying that next time we get a pass from a teacher."
"I am absolutely saying that, yes."
Hermione and Theo lapse into a companionable silence. At one point, Hermione fully rips the already torn sleeve off of her sweater and hands it to Theo.
"Bandage," she says, gesturing at his leg.
"Thank you," Theo says, pausing to wrap it around his leg.
Finally they get back to what Theo has begun to think of as 'domesticated' Library.
"Slytherin or Gryffindor?" Hermione asks.
"Gryffindor. I left my supplies there."
Hermione nods and they exit the Library and head through the halls and up to the tower.
"When did you say Madam Pince would wake up?" Theo asks, curious.
A part of him still can't believe that Hermione had so readily suggested drugging the librarian. Another, larger part of him is more than able to believe it: come to find out, Hermione is genuinely ruthless when she forgets not to be.
Theo is kicking himself for not getting to know Hermione better before now. Theo never really understood why Ron likes her so much- and now he does.
Hermione casts a quick tempus. "The potion should wear off any minute now."
Theo nods, then stops in front of the entrance to the Gryffindor common room and says, "augurey blooms."
Gwen side-eyes him, but the portrait slides open regardless and Theo nods his thanks.
They head immediately up the stairs towards Hermione's dorm room.
At first, Hermione had been worried about Theo being able to climb the stairs into the girl's dorms. However, after a quick discussion on just how little Theo cares about the concept of gender or having a gender at all, Hermione figured it would probably be fine. Indeed, Theo had been able to climb the stairs with no issue.
They enter the dorm and Hermione sets the book down before flopping into her bed, groaning. Then, she turns and looks at Theo.
"You first," she decides, gesturing at his face. "That cut looks bad."
"Fine by me," Theo says, and begins to methodically clean and dress his wounds.
Hermione goes to read their prize, muttering occasionally.
"Pipes," Hermione finally says, looking up from the book. Her eyes are shining with excitement. "It's definitely the pipes. We were right."
Theo limps over, looking down at the page she has the book open to.
It's a comprehensive diagram of Hogwarts' admittedly archaic plumbing system. Based on the measurements, most of the pipes are more than big enough for a monster of considerable size to be sneaking around in, and there are more than a few surprising places the pipes let out.
"Definitely worth it," Theo decides.
Hermione grins toothily, and Theo lets a smile spread across his face as well.
Thanks to Hermione, this has hands down been the best holiday Theo's ever had.