Harriet Potter and the New Fangs
Chapter 9: Christmas
Harriet's good mood lasted all the way until their next visit with Hagrid the following day.
"I'm telling you; it was Snape! He was cursing your broom!" Ron blurted out once the topic of the Quidditch match came up.
"Rubbish, tha' is! Snape is a Hogwarts professor, why would he do something like tha'?" Hagrid shrugged it off as he took another sip from his bucket-sized teacup.
"I get that Snape doesn't like me, but how does that lead to trying to kill me?" Harriet inquired, bouncing her knee up and down as she mulled the notion over.
"He was staring right at you, muttering and everything!"
"True, he wasn't even blinking," Hermione added, before muttering something no one heard.
"Sorry, Hermione, I didn't catch that?" Harriet asked, eyebrow raised.
"And it stopped when I set his cloak on fire!"
"You did what!?"
"Blimey mate, I knew you got him to stop somehow, but I didn't think you'd gone and done that!"
Silence reigned as everyone tried to wrap their minds around Hermione of all people setting a professor on fire, before a thought suddenly hit Harriet like a truck.
"Hey, on Halloween, Snape was limping and his leg was bloody, right?"
Hagrid paled momentarily, whilst the others just looked confused.
"Maybe, I was a bit preoccupied with the bloody troll, mate," Ron replied.
Hermione just looked thoughtful. "I didn't notice it at the time, as Ronald said, what with the troll. But looking back, yeah, I think I remember that."
"Do you reckon he tried to get past that three headed dog?"
Hagrid promptly did a spit take, spraying the three first years with tea as he dropped his cup. "How do yeh lot know abou' Fluffy?"
"Fluffy!? That thing has a name!?" Ron yelled out, voicing the others' thoughts perfectly.
"'Course he does, he's mine! Bought him off a Greek chap I met at the pub las' year. Lent him to Dumbledore to guard the-" Hagrid explained before cutting himself off.
"To guard the…?" Harriet trailed off, inching closer towards the giant man and leaning forwards eagerly.
"Nope, can tell yeh no more. Tha's top secret, tha' is."
"But Snape's trying to steal it!" retorted Ron, Hermione and Harriet nodding along enthusiastically.
"Tha's rubbish! Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, and would do nothing of the sort! And he certainly wouldn' try an' kill Harriet!"
"I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid. Whether or not he's a teacher doesn't matter, we saw him doing it!" Hermione fired back.
"I'm telling yeh, yer wrong! I don't know why Harriet's broom played up like tha', an' I don't know what yeh think yeh saw, but yeh'd do well to leave it be! Yer meddling in things yeh don' know nothing abou'! It's dangerous, so yeh'd best forget abou' Fluffy an' what he's guradin'; it's strictly between professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel!"
"Aha, so this Nicolas Flamel is involved!"
"I shouldn' a said tha'. I should not have said that!" Hagrid looked furious with himself as he kicked the trio out of his hut.
The first years didn't care though, as they were now one step closer to unravelling this mystery. They just needed to find out who this Nicolas Flamel was. How hard could it be?
XXXX
Dear Harriet,
I'm glad your studies have been going well. I hear you've been excelling in charms and transfiguration, just like your parents in that regard. James always had a knack for transfigurations, and Lily's charm work was a wonder to behold. They'd be so proud of you.
I know you were looking forward to coming back to the cottage for the holidays, but, unfortunately, one of my coworkers quit and I've been booked extra shifts at the shop to make up for it, so I'll be working Christmas. Because of this, I'd be unable to give you a proper Christmas this year, and it would be for the best if you stayed at the castle. I'm sorry.
I promise I'll make up for it over the summer though, and I can't wait to see you then.
Anyway, if you need any extra tips in your schoolwork, or just advice in general, you know you can always write me.
Again, I'm sorry about the holidays.
All the best,
Remus
Setting the letter down, Harriet groaned in annoyance for a moment, drawing Ron's attention to her.
"What's up, mate?"
"Turns out I have to stay at the castle for Christmas, Remus got booked in for work," she huffed, burying her face in the open book before her.
"Don't worry mate, I'll be staying too. Mum and dad are visiting Charlie in Romania, so we're stuck here."
"That just means you two will have more time to search Nicolas Flamel while I'm gone," Hermione reminded them of their current task.
The end of term was almost upon them, with only a few short days left before the majority of the student body would be leaving, including Hermione. By this point, they'd been scouring the library for weeks in a fruitless attempt to find any mention of Nicolas Flamel. Harriet had the ever-growing feeling that she was forgetting something, as she could have sworn she knew the name from somewhere, but no amount of searching or thinking could get her to recall it.
She was beginning to think the subject of their research was just a red herring thrown their way by Hagrid, or wasn't real to begin with, but as much as she liked and respected him, the man just wasn't smart enough to do something like that.
That Friday, after a bone-crushing hug from Hermione that she doubted even Hagrid would be able to match and a promise to write if they found anything, Harriet and Ron were left alone with his brothers in the Gryffindor common room.
The castle halls usually so full of noise were now almost eerily silent, and the whole school just felt woefully empty. It was sad that they didn't have Hermione with them, but there were several benefits to the lack of other students.
For example, they could sit wherever they wanted in the common room, for once, meaning they could take the comfiest armchairs right by the fire. There was also the welcome reprieve from the stairs and whispers that followed Harriet wherever she went, no Quidditch practice from hell, and no bloody Malfoy!
But the upsides could never overcome the loneliness of being the only girl in the whole of Gryffindor to stay behind. She'd become accustomed to chatting with her dormmates every night before bed, and the lack of gossip from Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil was rather off-putting, so she spent as little time there as possible, thus making Ron gawk at how early she was out of bed.
Time spent with the Weasley family was great, though! The twins had started several grand snowball fights which she was all too happy to join in on, frustrating them to no end with how she miraculously weaved around most projectiles thrown at her, despite them being even better with snowballs than they were with bats and bludgers. Those had swiftly ended after they were nearly skinned by McGonagall for bewitching snowballs to attack the back of Quirrell's turban. Strangely enough, she could have sworn she heard hisses and growls coming from the thing.
Percy was, as always, rather pompous and uptight, taking his prefect duties seriously even during the holidays in an attempt to "balance out the chaos caused by the twins". Still, though, it was nice to have someone capable of keeping up with her enjoyment of reading, and she entered several academic discussions with him that seemed like nails on a chalkboard to the other Weasleys.
Surprisingly, though, all of the Weasley children seemed adept at playing chess, including the twins, and thoroughly thrashed her when she played against them. The pieces all screamed and groaned when they realised it was her turn to control them, though, so maybe she just sucked at it?
Finally, Christmas Day came with Harriet waking up at the completely normal time of 4 AM, finding herself in a similar situation as she did on September 1st. She'd done so much reading in the early mornings that she'd already finished all five books she'd brought with her, all of her homework had been completed the day after most students had left, and she couldn't even go to the library if she wanted.
She couldn't even fly her broom around like she'd done earlier in the year! It was too goddamn cold!
Knowing the Weasleys as she did, the earliest riser among them, Percy, wouldn't be awake until 6, leaving her with absolutely no way to burn her overflowing energy for another two hours.
Thus, she resorted to repeatedly reorganising her trunk whilst quietly muttering about stupid curfews, vampires and brains. It was during this completely pointless task that she finally found a small amount of relief, as her mind shifted to a completely different issue.
Because she'd found her Dumbledore chocolate frog card.
"Considered by many to be the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of Dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore- wait, Nicolas Flamel!?"
There it was. After weeks of scouring every book on modern wizarding history and important figures in the magical world they could get their hands on, she'd found him!
But this did not explain who he was, and what could possibly be hidden on the third-floor corridor. If anything, it just brought forth more questions, such as why they couldn't find any mention of Dumbledore's partner in his study of alchemy. Speaking of, could alchemy itself have something to do with all this? It was the only clue they had, so perhaps it warranted some further study?
Yet further study would have to wait, because curfew still hadn't been lifted, and she wanted to enjoy her first proper Christmas. Sure, she'd celebrated with Remus, but Christmas was a time for family, and it was hard to get the full experience when you only interact with one other person.
Still, her Christmases with Remus were infinitely better than those spent in the cupboard – nope. Happy thoughts, she had no relatives, there was no cupboard. They didn't exist.
Was it just her or did the dorm suddenly feel claustrophobic? It was as though the walls were closing in on her, the ceiling was morphing to look like the underside of stairs and she desperately wished to shed her skin like a snake to escape the terrible feeling of many tiny legs crawling across it.
She could have sworn she heard heavy footsteps from above her, barely audible over her heart beating like a war drum before a large shadow blotted out what little light was entering the space and her vision went black.
Next thing she knew, Percy Weasley was rubbing his shin tenderly and staring up at her, wearing a rather strange mix of concern and shock on his face. Also, was she hyperventilating? Why was she hyperventilating? Why did her cheeks feel wet? Why was Percy on the floor? Why was Percy even in her dorm to begin with?
Yeah, those last two sounded like a good place to start.
After taking a moment to gain control of her breathing, Harriet's voice started to come out shakily, much to her annoyance. "Percy? What are you doing up here? And why are you on the floor?"
The boy just gawked at her briefly before coughing and seeming to regain a semblance of his regular composure. "Ahem, I, erm, heard what sounded like crying from downstairs and came to check on you. The stairs can let male prefects up if no females are available and we present them with an acceptable reason."
That, at least, made sense, she decided after a moment of thought, but he still hadn't answered one of her questions. "Ok, but why are you on the floor?"
"Oh, right. Well, when I entered the room and saw you were distressed, I attempted to place my hand on your shoulder after you didn't respond to my calls, at which point you struck me. I assume that was unintentional?"
Harriet knew what that meant. She'd had another one of those… what had Remus called them? Panic attacks? She used to have them a lot, especially when she'd first started living with the werewolf, but she hadn't had one in at least 6 months!
Stupid body couldn't even do that right.
And how was she supposed to explain that to Percy without coming off as bonkers?
"I, er, just get like that from time to time. I'll be reminded of something or set off and start panicking and stuff. If you touch me when I'm like that, I can lash out or react because my body think's there's danger," there, that should be enough. Except Percy still didn't seem to understand. She sighed. "It's no one's fault and it just happens sometimes. It's best to just let me get through it and calm down on my own."
"…Ok. Would you like to go to Madam Pomfrey?"
She shook her head.
This wasn't the usual amicable silence they often shared in the common room. It was awkward and tense and each second felt like its own eternity.
"Well, uh, I should probably deal with all this. I'll join you in the common room once after?" Harriet mumbled, vaguely gesturing to the scattered ink bottles, books and stray pieces of parchment she'd yet to repack.
Percy nodded and hurriedly scrambled to his feet before dusting himself off and obviously rushing from the room despite his attempts to appear otherwise.
Well, shit.
XXX
"Merry Christmas, one and all!"
That was all the warning she got before Ron's bedsheets sent him tumbling down the stairs from the boys' dorms and dumped him unceremoniously in front of the burning fire at the room's centre.
"Huh? Wah?" the boy startled awake, looking around blearily as he struggled to get his bearings.
Percy seemed amused at the shock plastered all over her features for a moment before raising his eyes to the top of the staircase. "Really, twins? Didn't you do the same thing last year?" he said as if this was a daily occurrence.
Knowing the twins as she did, it probably was.
Nevertheless, Percy's statement, accompanied by his singular raised eyebrow, broke her from her shock and allowed her to finally register the humour of it all.
Harriet giggled.
The twins turned their attention to her.
"What's this, Harriet?" said Fred.
"Studying on Christmas?" George echoed.
"Why, Forge, this simply won't do!"
"Indeed, Gred, this cannot be allowed to continue!"
And with that, the two redheads charged at Harriet, hands extended in front of them as they bulldozed their way down the stairs their brother had just been thrown down. Before she could even think to react, her book had been snatched out of her hands and the twins were tutting as they looked at its title.
"A History of Magic? How low must you stoop?" Fred mock fainted into George's arms, one arm shielding his eyes.
"Oh come on! It's interesting when it's not being taught by Binns!" she called back as she ran after them.
The chase continued for a few minutes before she finally gave into a frustration and just lobbed a cushion at the back of one of their heads. It struck true and she was rewarded with that twin dramatically faceplanting as the other knelt over him and faux sobbed.
Harriet marched over to them and snagged her book from where it had fallen to the floor. "Maybe you'll learn from this bit of history and not try that again?" she said before gently thwacking them both over the head with her prize.
"Yes, Madam President," they groaned as she retreated up the staircase and deposited the tome in her room.
A very lumpy package was thrust into her hands before she could even sit back in her chair.
"What's this?" she asked. It was both soft and felt as if it had definite structure to it at the same time, and though the paper was obviously bought on a budget it was clearly wrapped with care.
"Oh no," Ron groaned as he looked up from where his own, nearly identical parcel had been forced upon him. "She's sent you a Weasley jumper."
"Huh?" his statement only left her more confused.
"Just open it," the boy gestured.
Harriet tentatively tore her package open to reveal a thick, hand-knitted jumper of emerald green, the front of which was emblazoned with a golden 'H'. Also contained within was a small tin of homemade fudge.
She could practically feel the warmth radiating from the jumper before she even slipped it on over her clothes and looked to Ron to finish his explanation.
"Every year, mum makes us a jumper," he said, holding up a similar jumper that he grimaced at. "And mine's always maroon."
"Come on, Ronniekins, you know you have to wear it," the twins chorused as they forced the clothing over their brother's head. A brief look told her that both they and Percy were already wearing their own. "Now, on with the presents!"
XXX
It turns out that Christmas with the Weasleys, or at least the ones at Hogwarts, was even better than she'd hoped – at least when she ignored the incident with Percy.
She'd received way more than she'd expected!
Firstly was obviously the jumper and fudge from Mr and Mrs Weasley. She'd been relishing in its warmth since opening the package and the one piece of fudge she'd partaken in so far had been mouth-wateringly delicious.
Then she'd gotten a wooden flute from Hagrid. It had clearly been carved by hand and sounded a bit like an owl. The craftsmanship was surprisingly good and she'd definitely have to thank the man for it later.
Remus had gotten her a new book from the shop, a muggle fantasy story to be exact. She'd look forward to reading that later.
There had also been a box of sugar quills from Hermione, surprising when you considered that her parents were dentists, alongside a note that both wished her a merry Christmas and sternly reminded her to keep searching for Nicolas Flamel.
That left only one parcel, wrapped in plain brown paper and strangely light. Opening it allowed a silvery grey fabric to fall over her arms and to the floor, where it bundled in gleaming folds that seemed to call to her.
"What is it?" she asked as she gathered it in her hands. It felt strange, scarcely heavier than a feather and almost as if it were flowing over her fingers like it had been weaved from water itself.
"It looks like a cloak of sorts, why don't you try it on?" Percy suggested, peering at the item closely.
Harriet felt as if something heavy had settled over her when she wrapped it around her shoulders, though the cloak had obviously grown no more weighty through the simple action. She couldn't dwell on the feeling though as the room suddenly became quiet.
"Merlin," Ron breathed. "That's not just a cloak; that's an invisibility cloak!"
She looked down and panicked for a moment upon seeing nothing where her torso and legs should be before realising they were thankfully still there. "Woah."
"They're supposed to be wicked rare-" Fred began.
"And wicked expensive, too," George finished.
"Did it say who sent it?" Percy asked in awe.
A quick search of the discarded paper yielded a simple, unsigned note.
'Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to its rightful owner. Use it well.
A very merry Christmas to you.'
She didn't respond to their curious looks, just passed the note to Percy as she examined the cloak again.
It had been her father's.
The weight she felt suddenly made sense. That was the weight of history.
Tears began rolling down her cheeks before many arms suddenly embraced her tentatively and Harriet allowed a stifled sob to escape her lips.
Christmas was a time for family, and she'd never had anything from her family before.
XXXX
Hi everyone, I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
As always, any constructive criticism, feedback or advice is welcomed and appreciated.
Have a good one!