The boys were disappointed, but not too surprised, when Hermione told them that she would be going home for the holidays. Harry never thought too much about the implications of leaving your family behind for the majority of the year, since it had been a blessing to get away from his own, so felt guilty that he hadn't spoken to her about it earlier. Matthew appeared to have forgotten her background too, for he sulked (albeit playfully) for a good hour after her news. Suddenly aware that he could be all alone in the Gryffindor common room, Harry had asked him if he intended to stay at Hogwarts (he had signed up as soon as the list was presented).

"I don't have anywhere else to go," had been his short response, alongside a smile that hadn't truly met his eyes. He'd wandered away after that, picking up a book only to spend his time looking into the roaring fire that was a much needed source of heat.

Worried about his behaviour, Hermione had dragged Harry to one side with a determined look in her eye. "Try and use this time to get to know him better. I know that sounds absurd since he's your best friend but...he keeps so much to himself and I'm afraid he bottles too much in. And Christmas can be a difficult time for some people."

"Yeah...I know," he'd said sadly.

She'd looked at him pitifully at that. "Oh, Harry. Do have fun as well! I'm sure you're going to find it simply...magical. I'll even allow you to stop thinking about revising for these few weeks." She had been thankful to see his smile at her comment, even more so to see it disappear as she continued. "January is when the proper work starts anyway."

Hermione had warned them to stay clear of the third floor just before she departed to catch the train. She claimed she was trusting them to behave without her watching over them, imploring Harry not to give in to Matthew's temptations. He had protested at such behaviour existing but had kept his mouth shut when he'd seen her glare. The pair promised to do as they were told as if they'd been chastised by their mothers, though neither had planned to do anything regarding the Philosopher's Stone over the Christmas period. They had started the mission as a trio and they wanted to finish it that way. And who was evil enough to attack during the festive season? With a couple of hugs, which had taken a lot of courage on Hermione's part, she had followed the long line of students heading for the Express, slowly disappearing into the crowd until they could no longer see her.

If walking around Hogwarts whilst everyone had been watching quidditch was a weird sensation, being in the castle when it was mainly empty was even stranger. Very few students were remaining at Hogwarts, which had made it easy for Draco Malfoy to highlight the outliers, poking fun at their lack of families. Harry had expected Matthew to say something in response (he certainly hadn't backed down during the flying lesson) but, instead, his friend had chosen to walk away. When Harry asked him about it, his simple response had been that it was his Christmas present to the Slytherin brat not to give him a well deserved trouncing. Harry had no doubt that, if he'd known, it would have been Malfoy's favourite gift.

The entirety of Gryffindor, barring the Weasleys, had left, making the common room seem larger than usual. They planned to spend a lot of time there, especially with the snow falling thick across the Highlands, a carpet of white that covered the entire grounds. They felt sorry for Hagrid, stuck in his small hut whilst they were bombarded by the blizzard, choosing to visit him whenever they could to keep him company. They'd even helped out with looking after the poor owls that had braved the storm, nursing them back to health before they found sanctuary in the owlery. Harry could only imagine how cold it was up there, which prompted him to move Hedwig temporarily into their dorm room, where she would be much warmer. Matthew always got on with the owl, the bird pecking at his fingers whenever he whispered to her. He stated that, if you gave them the respect they felt they deserved, then they'd do the same to you. That probably accounted for her annoyed expression when Ron Weasley slammed the door one afternoon.

An unexpected side effect of the school mainly being empty was that the teachers became more relaxed and could be spotted out in the open more often, rather than keeping to their own quarters. The feasts were conducted differently too, with the few occupants sitting around one long table instead of the typical five - Harry had found it quite awkward when he'd found himself next to Professor Flitwick, who had chatted to him about all the festive charms wizard families used. The Christmas spirit was infecting even the strictest of the staff, with Harry catching Professor McGonagall humming along to some hymn in her head as she hung up wreaths along the great hall's entrance. Snape was still his usual miserable self but hadn't taken any points away from them, which was the closest he got to being the life of the party. The headmaster roamed the corridors too, speaking to the students brave enough to start a conversation with the revered wizard. He had asked them how they were doing one morning, which had surprised Harry. Dumbledore had never spoken to him up to this point and he found himself slightly in awe in his presence. It seemed that he found it amusing at least, though Harry worried that he now thought he was an imbecile. Matthew, on the other hand, had acted strangely natural, as if he were used to being around him. His excuse had been that he just found it easy to talk to people, no matter who they were, but Harry wondered whether he was withholding some elements of the truth yet again. However, their conversation after Halloween gave him pause to being suspicious, knowing that he was meant to be trusting his friend.

When Christmas morning finally came, Harry wasn't expecting much from the day. He had no relatives alive that cared about him, meaning that there would be no presents waiting for him under any tree. He was, however, still very much excited. It was his first proper Christmas after all, where he'd actually be allowed to join in with the celebrations. That hadn't stopped him from wanting a lie in (he rarely got one during term time) but any hopes of that were dashed by the loud thumping of Ron's footsteps at the crack of dawn, evidently even more eager than Harry was to make the most of the day. The youngest Weasley boy was renowned for his heavy sleeping and loud snoring, so it was a miracle to see him up so early. The sun was only just hitting the windows in their tower as it reflected off the white ground outside and his bed was looking incredibly comfortable, but a chuckle to his side kept him awake.

Matthew was perched up on his bed, sipping from a steaming mug, as he watched Ron dash down the stairs. He was wearing a deep purple woolly dressing gown, keeping himself warm. Hogwarts was yet to introduce central heating, a suggestion he had brought forward a few times already that year. Interestingly enough, it was the first time Harry had seen him in his four-poster, usually downstairs by this time. He guessed that some things could change when the day was special.

"Merry Christmas, Harry," he said with a jovial grin.

"Merry Christmas!" His smile was wide, carefree. Maybe he could get used to this Christmas idea. Everything and everyone just seemed so much more pleasant, although that probably had something to do with Malfoy being absent. He eyed the drink that Matthew was holding. "What've you got there?"

"Hot chocolate. I've heard that it's the tradition to have one at this time of year so I thought I'd try it out. I can't believe I've never had one before. Little marshmallows like tiny pearls of goodness." He licked his lips and took another long sip.

Harry was incredibly jealous. "Where did you get it from?"

Matthew only kept smiling, nodding his head to a point just past Harry. When he followed his line of sight, he was stunned to see an identical mug waiting for him on his bedside table, the very marshmallows that Matthew had just been waxing lyrical about bobbing away in the thick, brown beverage.

"But...how?" he sputtered.

"Do you really have to know the answer for everything or can you just enjoy the magic?" It was safe to say that, as soon as Harry had his first taste, he was willing to put it down as the unexplained miracle that it was. "Should we head downstairs?"

"I'm perfectly fine here," was Harry's reply as he contentedly sunk deeper into his pillows. "I don't think there's going to be much waiting for me down there anyway."

"Oh, come on! That's not the spirit I'm looking for! There's no harm in having a little belief that something could have been left for you." There was a glint in his eyes, like he was really wanting to say more but his mouth remained closed. When Harry just took another sip of his hot chocolate (the greatest drink ever concocted, he was sure of it), Matthew rolled his eyes and, all of a sudden, the duvet that was covering his friend flew off, neatly folding itself at the end of the bed. The shock of the cold almost had Harry spilling his drink, which would have been an absolute travesty, and he sent a disgruntled look at the other boy.

"Fine! But I'm remembering this for a later date when I can get my revenge."

"That's the Christmas spirit."

What awaited them in the common room was greatly surprising to Harry. The Christmas tree by the window had Ron before it as he tore into the few presents he'd received, complaining to his brothers at the sight of a homemade jumper. Harry wasn't focusing on that though. Near one set of sofas, a small pile of gifts attracted his attention. Curious, since there was no one else they could belong to, he wandered over and inhaled sharply when his suspicions were confirmed, the tags bearing his name in different scrawled letterings. He glanced up at Matthew, who didn't seem surprised at the sight. There was a scruffy bag from Hagrid, which contained some of his baked goods. Harry didn't even mind if they broke his teeth since he was so stunned at getting something. There were a few boxes of chocolates from Hermione, which he hadn't been expecting, especially since her parents were dentists. Even the Dursleys had sent something, a 50p coin taped to a cheap card - the fact that they'd even bothered was a big enough surprise.

"Oh my," he heard Matthew murmur and he spotted him holding a wrapped present almost reverently. He took his time delicately opening it, finding a leather-bound journal inside. The first page already had a note neatly inscribed in familiar handwriting. "To keep track of all your many thoughts, so that you might remember to share them. Hermione." There was a look on his face that Harry had never seen. There was a sense of melancholy etched onto his features as he stared at the book.

"Are you okay?"

That seemed to snap him out of it, at least for the moment. "Hmm? Yes, yes. It's just...I've never got a present before."

"You haven't?" Even Harry had received a few things over the years, begrudgingly handed over by his uncle and aunt, mainly when Dudley had no need of them anymore.

"No...um...Christmas wasn't really...a thing for me or my family. And then they...you know. This just took me by surprise. She never said that she was getting me anything. There was no need. Oh, she must have gone to so much trouble! I hope the present I got her is suitably good enough now." He looked down at a similar package to what Harry had got. "And I'll have to say a big thank you to Hagrid. He's busy enough as it is, so to go to the effort of making something…"

Harry knew that Matthew valued his teeth just as much as he did so he was surprised to see how overwhelmed he was by the gift. It was an insight into his life before Hogwarts. He was getting the notion that his life hadn't been filled with the small moments like this that everyone took for granted, something Harry knew far too well. They'd known each other for a few months now and this was the closest Harry had felt to him, as if his friend was allowing himself to open up in front of him. He was going to bring it up but was distracted by the sight of a relatively large and heavy present.

"You got me something," he whispered in surprise.

Matthew looked at him, confused as to what his point was. "Evidently."

"But I didn't get you anything in return! Nor Hermione. I didn't even think. I don't know how to buy things when I'm at Hogwarts. I feel awful."

"As far as I'm aware, Christmas isn't really about receiving gifts, though it's a nice bonus. I wasn't expecting anything and I certainly didn't get you this just to get something back. In truth, I was more excited about seeing you open your present."

Not wanting to make him wait any longer, Harry tore into the wrapping paper, eventually unveiling an old, intricately patterned book. Matthew was looking at him eagerly, wanting to see his reaction.

"The lives of the greatest wizards and witches from the sixteenth century to the present. Not the most imaginative title, I'll give you that. I think it's a first edition too, if you're bothered about that."

"Doesn't that mean it's really expensive?" Harry wondered. He knew it was rude to ask such a question but his mouth had operated with permission from his brain.

"Possibly. Like I told you, I'm not too interested in money. You'll find a couple of pages on our friend Nicolas Flamel in there, so you don't feel left out for not reading about him." He winked at Harry, who felt even more embarrassed now for accusing him of knowing too much about the alchemist.

"Thank you! I'll read it tonight. I'm going to have to get you something just as good when I get the chance."

Matthew waved away his concerns. "Nonsense. I don't need anything."

"I just thought of something strange though. I don't even know...when is your birthday? Because then that'll give me a chance to do the gift giving without you being able to complain."

"Gosh, I haven't thought about that in a while. Let me try and remember." His brow furrowed as he thought for a second. "I'm sure it's the twenty-third of November last time I checked."

"But you didn't say anything! What sort of kid doesn't remember their birthday?"

"The sort of kid who hasn't celebrated it for a good few years. Trust me, I was perfectly content with the day passing without any note. Although I think that was the day Neville accidentally spilled part of his potion onto Malfoy's hand. Some nasty blisters, weren't they? I'll call that my present."

Harry shook his head. "You know you're weird, right? You don't act like any other student here. You don't act like anyone our age that I've ever met."

"The world would be a much more boring place if everyone was normal. As for weird...this year, we've already had trolls and giant three-headed dogs in the school. If you still think I'm weird after that, then I'm either doing something wrong or right. Depends on your perspective."

Harry was sure that he was being even stranger than usual to mess with him and what made it weirder was that he was finding it oddly comforting. He'd grown used to Matthew's antics. The way he spoke, the way he acted, the way his mind wandered at times. The way he could resemble a child one second and then look as if he had the oldest of souls the next. It certainly kept Harry on his toes. Sitting there that Christmas morning, it was another moment where he was immensely happy that Matthew had been the first person he'd come across at the train station. How different his life would have been if it had been someone else.

He was pondering that when he noticed Matthew gesturing his head to the floor next to him. "You seem to have missed one last present."

That was odd. He hadn't expected any presents whatsoever and they'd been through the people most likely to get him something. But there it was. A thin, flimsy package, almost hidden away under the sofa. The wrapping paper was a garish green, with little drawings of Christmas puddings decorating it. Harry read the note, his eyes going wide.

"It says that this used to belong to my dad."

"Who sent it?"

"It doesn't say. But it must be someone who knew my parents well." For some reason, he found that he was holding his breath as he carefully unsealed the package. A silky fabric spilled out, smooth to the touch. Woven into the material were different shapes and drawings that he couldn't make any sense out of. He heard Matthew take in a breath sharply.

"Do you know what that is?" he asked, shifting closer to him.

"A cloak?" It wasn't the sort of thing he'd normally wear but, then again, he'd never been too up to date with the latest fashion, especially of the wizard variety.

"It's an invisibility cloak. You can tell from the runes, those patterns on it."

With the Weasleys still in the room, Harry didn't want to try it on. For some reason, he instantly felt protective of it, since it was the only connection he had to his father. The last thing he wanted was for people to ask to see it or, even worse, want to borrow it. Much to his delight, though, Matthew's prediction was right, with his hand disappearing when he placed the cloak around it. Both of the boys' eyes lit up.

"We're going to have so much fun with this."

xxxxxxxxxx

They made the most of the day, as any child would do. Hagrid had made some sledges out of spare planks of wood and they'd spent a good hour going up and down a suitably snowy enough hillside. They'd had races between the two of them, Harry having the edge every time, much to Matthew's annoyance. His frustration had only grown when it turned out that the boards hadn't been sanded down properly, with a number of splinters getting caught in the last place one wanted such things. Hagrid had apologised profusely, stating that he felt awful, but karma had come full circle when, after wanting to see what the fuss was about, he'd tried sledging too. The inevitable outcome of the half-giant putting his entire weight on the hastily put together object had been that it collapsed just as he'd gone over the cusp of the hill, causing him to roll down like a giant, hairy boulder. Harry was sure he hadn't laughed as much (after making sure his friend was okay, of course).

Back in the common room, they'd found a cupboard full of games that kept them occupied for a while. Ron even joined them when he'd seen them setting up a game of chess and he was all too happy to explain the rules of the wizard version to Harry, who was fascinated by the moving pieces and their different personalities. Matthew, upon seeing the redhead's arrival, had quickly offered to let him play, stating that he wasn't a fan of the game. Ron's expression had become one of disbelief, as if he couldn't comprehend someone not enjoying his second favourite pastime, but he hadn't complained, unwilling to risk losing his chance to show Harry Potter his skills. Meanwhile, Matthew had perched on one of the armchairs with a quill, scribbling away in his new notebook, sometimes glancing over to check how badly Harry was losing.

The highlight of the day, besides the unexpected presents, had been the Christmas feast, which was somehow even grander than the usual meals on offer. There had to be at least five giant turkeys to a person and Harry had no doubt that they'd be eating leftover sandwiches for the next fortnight. Almost as soon as he'd thought that, Professor Dumbledore had told the table that they'd find some supper waiting for them in their respective common rooms (or teachers lounge) later that evening. With the amount he'd already eaten, Harry wasn't sure he'd be able to manage another mouthful, the thought bringing his stomach to the brink of explosion. Ron, on the other hand, had barely stopped, not even taking a break when speaking, much to the disgust of the professors. Snape had sneered at him for most of the meal, with McGonagall occasionally shaking her head when small bits of food would fly out of his mouth.

Even the Christmas crackers were over the top. Harry had heard Dudley complain in the past about how rubbish the gifts were inside but there was no such disappointment when there was magic involved. An origami dragon had soared past his head a couple of times, thankfully unable to breath out fire. The jokes told themselves, with a supporting laugh track for added effect. The paper hats were just as tacky but everyone made sure to wear one, besides the Head of Slytherin and Professor Quirrell (he claimed that it would mess up his turban and had been strangely resistant in taking it off). Harry just enjoyed having a laugh, not having to think about odd mysteries concerning centuries old artefacts. And it was nice to see Matthew relax, a boy who was normally so reserved and guarded. But throughout the entirety of the meal, all Harry could think about was finally getting a chance to use his new present.

They'd decided that the best time to initially try it out was towards the evening, when foot traffic was minimal, despite the school being as empty as it already was. Harry was still unsure about the complexities concerning being invisible, especially with how well it masked footsteps. Matthew hadn't been too sure about accompanying, worried that the other boy would have wanted to do it on his own since it was an heirloom from his deceased father. But Harry knew that he'd be a lot more at ease having someone by his side, and someone who always seemed to know what he was doing. The next question had been what they did with the new freedom and where they went. Harry had proposed the kitchens, although he didn't know where they were. Matthew had suggested Snape's office, just to mess with their most hated professor.

Matthew leaned into Harry as he spooned some trifle into his bowl. "Have you decided where we're going yet, then? I can't believe you shot down my idea of annoying Snape. I didn't know you were scared of him."

The man in question was carefully tucking into a plate of cheese and crackers. "I'm not scared of him!" Harry replied defensively but quietly enough as to not garner any attention. "I just don't think it's the best idea to have him as our first target. Maybe when we actually know what we're doing with the cloak."

"All you have to do is wear it. It's not very difficult."

"Can it hide smells? Like my own scent?"

Matthew was momentarily confused by the question before a light of realisation flashed in his eyes. "You can't mean what I think you mean."

"It's worth a try, isn't it? We need to figure out a way past it. Maybe whoever sent the cloak wants me to use it just for that purpose."

"We told Hermione that we wouldn't go near that corridor until she gets back. I won't say it to her face but I'm sometimes scared of her."

"All we'll do is briefly see if it works. Then we'll know either way and come back. What could possibly go wrong?"

xxxxxxxxxx

The pair slammed the door shut as quickly as possible, their backs pressed firmly against it as if their own body weights would be enough to hold back a gigantic mammal. Harry ripped the invisibility cloak off them, exposing them to the normal world once more. Their breathing was ragged as Matthew turned his head to his companion.

"Definitely doesn't mask smells! Definitely not!" He locked the door as he shook his head. "Why did I let you talk me into that? I'm far too easily swayed at times."

The three-headed dog had known instantly that something was amiss and one of its snarling mouths had come extremely close to robbing the wizarding world of the Boy Who Lived. The child in question was trying to find a positive spin to put on things. "Well, we had to try it out. Better to know for sure, I guess."

"We're not going to tell Hermione about this. Deal? Not because we went against her rules. That's bad enough as it is. No. Just think of the look on her face if she were to find out how stupid we'd been." Matthew seemed strangely disappointed in himself. Harry knew that he held himself to a certain standard, expecting perfection most of the time with his work and classes, but he hadn't known it concerned him this much. "I'm slacking. I'm going native."

"What do you mean by that?"

Matthew looked as if he'd forgotten Harry was there. "Don't worry about it. Figure of speech." Even his excuses were becoming stranger and less convincing. Harry was going to say something since it was bugging him a lot but was stopped when his friend pointed a finger past him. "We should probably worry about that though."

A cat was perched on the bannister of the stairs, staring at them with its bright, unblinking eyes. Mrs Norris. And where she was, Argus Filch was normally close behind. Matthew gestured to Harry and they began to edge away, eventually sprinting in the opposite direction, ending up taking a route they'd never been before. They didn't know whether the cat was pursuing them, not bothering with the cloak after their realisation that animals still had enough senses to catch them out. Constantly worried that they would be caught at any second, they continued down the dark corridors, annoying a few of the sleeping portraits. A distant mewling from somewhere had them further on edge and, taking drastic action, Matthew shoved Harry through the next door they came across, expecting to end up in one of the many abandoned classrooms dotted about the school.

Instead, they found themselves in a small stone chamber which was mainly empty, though it may have been a classroom decades ago judging from the old and damaged desks stacked in one corner. The only object of any note was a lone, tall mirror standing before them. Inscribed on the top was a phrase that they couldn't understand, nor where they bothered to try when they saw what should have been their own reflections. Harry let out a small gasp. Two older people were standing next to him in the mirror, with Matthew nowhere to be seen. He quickly looked around, checking to see if they were actually there, but the room was as empty as when they'd entered. For some reason, he knew instantly who these people were. The man looked like an older version of himself and the woman had the most striking of eyes, so very like his own.

Matthew was moving past him, closer to the mirror. He reached out a hand to the glass. "Oh, look at you. Hello again."

"You can see them too?" Harry asked. "My parents?" The two figures smiled at his assumption, confirming what he'd known deep down. Tears threatened to escape his eyes but he just about managed to hold them back.

"No. I can't. I don't think this thing works like that, whatever it is. You can see your mum and dad? Interesting. Perhaps it shows us what we miss most of all."

"An astute hypothesis but not entirely correct."

Harry and Matthew practically jumped out of their skin at the sound of the voice. They were surprised to find Professor Dumbledore standing towards the back of the room, smiling softly at them. "I didn't expect to find anyone else in here but...alas...not a day goes by here at Hogwarts where I am not surprised by something."

"It's not a normal mirror," Harry said. He was so stunned by seeing his parents that he hadn't even considered the trouble they would be in for being caught being out so late.

"It is not. Its name is the Mirror of Erised. A strange and unassuming object, but dangerous nonetheless. A person will find their deepest desires reflected back at them upon looking at it. You, who have never known your family, only wish to be surrounded by them."

"But why is that so dangerous, sir?"

"Because it's not real," Matthew answered instead with a forlorn tone. He was still looking at the mirror. "You could become tempted to just look at it forever, hoping one day that the vision would step out. But that would never happen."

"Precisely," Dumbledore said, his voice equally as sad as he peered at Matthew. "Which is why it is being removed tomorrow, sent to a new location. Perhaps this was the reminder I needed to finally do that. I'd ask that you don't go searching for it again but still remember what you have learnt here. Because, if you have learnt something, then this can be considered a class and, therefore, I would have no reason to ask why you are out of bed at such an hour. Enjoy the last remnants of your Christmas, boys. And don't forget that marvellous cloak to help you get back without a fuss."

"Thank you, sir." They did as they were told, even if Dumbledore had said it as more of a suggestion than an instruction. Harry presumed that was his gift, being able to convince people to do something without raising his voice. How he also knew about the cloak, Harry had no idea, but again put it down to his skills as a wizard.

Matthew was quiet as they walked back, barely saying anything. Harry didn't mind that too much, with his mind focused on what he'd seen. His actual parents. He sorely wished that he could go back and talk to them, if they were even able to speak, but that was the lure of the mirror. Still, as he lay in bed, he thought of nothing else, only realising late on that he hadn't asked Matthew what he'd seen.