Facing Danger
Chapter 28: Home for the Holidays (Arc 6)
By Anne B. Walsh
"Meghan, was that Nott’s bouquet your mum was carrying?" Neville asked as they waited their turn for the Floo in the Fwooper and Firstie, the wizarding pub of Godric’s Hollow.
Meghan nodded. "Why?"
"I just wondered if I could see it, whenever she’s done with it. There’s magic on the flowers. But I’m sure you knew that already."
"Dadfoot and Moony checked that and the amulet both," Meghan said, smiling thanks at a passing witch who murmured her condolences. "The flowers have preserving magic on them to keep them fresh, and a little spell got engraved on the ring holding them to help people feel better. And the amulet is just what Dursley said it was—it sends out magic that makes people around it want boys." She pouted. "What’s wrong with girls?"
Neville let this question pass. "How far do the spells reach, do you know?"
"Only a little ways. Maybe from one end of the room to the other. And they’ll run out of magic within about a month, so you don’t have to worry about them."
"I worry about everything. It’s my job."
"You can say that again—but don’t," Meghan added hastily.
"Would I?"
"You’ve been around Harry and Draco too long. Yes, you would."
Neville put an arm around her shoulders. "If you say so."
"I do." Meghan leaned into the embrace.
"Good to have that settled."
The rest of the wait was spent in companionable silence.
xXxXx
Harry awakened the next morning in fairly good humor, which lasted until he noticed that everyone he passed in the hall was either staring at him or very obviously not staring at him. He ducked into Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom to check his appearance, but everything looked normal.
Myrtle floated up out of her cubicle. "Hello, Harry," she said. "Why do you have a halo around your head? Does it mean you’re dead now?"
"Why do I have a what?"
"A halo. Like an angel." Myrtle gestured a circle around her own head. "But it has letters floating around it. R, O, H, E."
Harry bit his tongue to keep from saying what he wanted. "Myrtle, can you tell where it’s coming from?" he asked instead. "Is it something I ate, or something I did?"
"It looks like someone just put a spell on you while you were asleep," Myrtle said, swooping around him. "Can’t you see it?"
"No. I can’t."
"Then maybe that was part of the spell." Myrtle giggled. "I see what the word is now. You are one, you know."
"I know. And so does everyone else. I don’t need to advertise." Harry took another look in the mirror. His reflection looked back, apparently entirely normal. "If I could just see—wait a second!"
He dug into his bag, to the very bottom, and came up with what he wanted—the tinted lenses George had given him to fit over his glasses, the ones which would let him see magic. Snapping them into place, he looked back at his reflection and winced. "Merlin’s socks, it’s huge."
"You’re a huge hero," Myrtle said adoringly.
Harry considered his options. Opening the Chamber of Secrets and hiding there until the spell went away was beginning to look good, as seeing the spell was giving him no clues as to how to get it off. Unless...
"Myrtle, would you please go get Hermione for me?"
"What’s in it for me?"
Harry took one more look at the halo. Rumors he’d be able to live with. This he couldn’t. "I’ll give you a kiss."
Myrtle stared at him for an instant, blushed bright silver, and vanished through the wall at her top ghostly speed. Harry settled down to wait.
Hermione arrived a few moments later, breathless from her run, and bit her lip but did not laugh aloud, for which Harry was grateful. "Ginny and Ron are coming too," she said, waving her wand around Harry’s head. "They think it was probably the twins, and they know more about getting that kind of hex off than anyone but Percy."
"Great. Wonderful. Can you hold on a moment?" Harry turned to Myrtle. "Come and get it."
"Oohhhhh," Myrtle breathed, and drifted closer to Harry, her eyes shut. Harry stepped forward, held out his hands to encompass her intangible body, and laid his lips against where her cheek would have been.
Ginny chose this moment to come through the door. Harry broke off hastily, and Myrtle turned an even brighter silver than before and swooped into her cubicle.
"Well," Ginny said, crossing her arms, "if I’d known you liked your girls dead..."
Ron stopped in the doorway. "I don’t want to know," he said fervently.
"You’re right. You don’t." Harry waved him inside. "Just get it off me, all right?"
Half an hour later, they left the bathroom, Harry mostly halo-free, though a very thin band still circled his head. Hermione assured him it would wear off by the afternoon.
"It was definitely the twins," Ginny said. "Making you the only one who can’t see it is something only they would think to do."
Ron nodded. "I thought I heard someone knocking around the dorm last night," he said. "But by the time I got my curtains open, everything looked normal."
"Either they were done or they’d hidden," Hermione said. "How are you going to get them back, Harry?"
"Oh, I have a few ideas." Harry smiled slowly. "But I want to hear what everyone thinks, to be sure whatever we do is... appropriate."
xXxXx
That afternoon, the Pride trooped down to Hagrid’s hut, Meghan walking importantly in the lead, her wand in one hand melting a path in front of them and an envelope in the other. Fang came charging around the house as they approached, and Hagrid opened the door to greet them.
"Dumbledore tol’ me what happened," he said roughly, coming down the steps to take charge of Fang, on whom Draco and Harry were sitting to subdue his frantic welcome. "Thought I’d wait an’ let yeh come down when yeh were ready."
"I’m sorry we didn’t come sooner," Meghan said, holding out the envelope. "This is for you."
"Fer me? Not my birthday, is it?" Hagrid took the envelope with the hand not holding Fang and looked at it curiously, then shook his head. "An’ where’s my manners—come in, come in, all o’ yeh..."
"We want to hear all about the giants," Ron said, kicking snow off his boots against the front step. "What’re they really like?"
"Did you find your mum?" Hermione asked. "Is she all right?"
Hagrid sighed. "She died, Hermione. Years ago."
"I’m so sorry," Hermione said, her voice catching a little. "Do you know what happened?"
"Bad food, I think they said it was." Hagrid rubbed at one eye. "But livin’ so rough, what d’yeh expect?" He brightened a bit. "Found sommat I wasn’t expectin’, though—but I prob’ly shouldn’ tell yeh abou’ it now..."
"No, tell us," Draco said, hanging his coat on the tree and closing the door. "We want to hear."
"Well..." Hagrid set the kettle on the hob. "Yeh may’ve noticed Norbert’s not with me?"
"Thank Merlin," Harry muttered.
"Yes, tell us why," said Ginny, kicking Harry gently in the ankle. "Did you find him a good home?"
"Found her th’ best home I kin think of." Hagrid beamed. "Safe, quiet, an’ with a friend ter take care of her. Name of Grawp."
"Grawp?" said Luna, tilting her head to one side. "Is that a giant name?"
"It is, and do yeh know what giant has that name?" Hagrid looked around the room at the Pride. "Well?"
"Some relation of yours?" Neville hazarded.
"Right first time!" Hagrid pulled a plate of cakes from the shelf and handed one to Neville. "Well done!"
Neville nodded thanks, then waved the cake where Fang could see it when Hagrid turned away.
"So Norbert’s actually a girl?" Harry said. "And you left her with one of your giant relations?"
"But not just any relation, Harry." Hagrid visibly hesitated before continuing. "He’s my brother," he said at last. "Little brother, I suppose, but he’s on’y little if you’re a giant—an’ yeh think I’m big, yeh ought’ve seen them!"
"I’ll pass, thanks," Ron said. "So you’ve got a brother, Hagrid?"
"Half-brother, really, but it’s not worth quibblin’ about." Hagrid waved a huge hand, dismissing such small concerns. "It’s part o’ the reason I was so sad ter hear what’d happened—almos’ feels indecent, me bein’ happy over meetin’ Grawpy, when Letha and Sirius jus’ lost little Marcus..."
"Don’t, Hagrid, please don’t," Meghan said, coming over to hug Hagrid’s arm (which was what her own arms could fit around). "I’m glad to hear you met your brother. Is he nice?"
"Well, nice fer a giant." Hagrid hugged Meghan back gently, then scooped her up and set her on one of his shoulders. "Sommat yer size, he’d think was a snack!"
"Oi!" Harry protested. "No snacking on my sister!"
"It’d get her out of the house," Draco reminded him in a pig’s whisper. "Forever."
Harry pretended to consider it. "Not worth it," he said finally. "There’d be too much trouble."
Meghan made a face at both of them from her lofty perch.
"Will the giants help us fight, Hagrid?" Luna asked. "Or at least stay away?"
"Don’t quite know, Luna." Hagrid moved to the fireplace, where the kettle was whistling, bending as he did so that Meghan could slide down his back and land on her feet on the floor. "Olympe an’ I were able ter head off the Death Eaters who were tryin’ ter talk ter the giants this time, but that don’t mean You-Know-Who won’ send more now that we’re gone. We might’ve got through, an’ we mightn’t’ve... s’pose we’ll know if they start showin’ up on the other side..."
More giant stories, and the Pride’s tales of the term just past, filled up two hours comfortably. Hagrid had heard a great deal about Umbridge and her ridiculous policies in the days he’d been back. "Good thing I wasn’ here," he said at one point. "I’d’ve thrown her out meself if she’d tried expellin’ you in front o’ me, Harry."
"And you’d just have been thrown out for it too," Harry said. "I did fine going into hiding."
"So yeh did." Hagrid chuckled. "So yeh did."
It was only as the Pride was getting ready to leave that Hermione noticed the envelope still lying unopened on the table and pointed it out to Hagrid. He ripped it carefully open, pulled out the parchment within, and read it to himself, then came across the room in three strides and hugged the whole Pride at once.
"Does this mean yes?" Draco wheezed.
Hagrid loosened up on the hug, grinning. "It does. Yes, an’ many thanks besides."
"Good," Hermione said, squirming out of the hug and swinging herself on top of Hagrid’s arm. "I think it’ll make Christmas even better to have you there. And Padfoot said we might even be able to have it at the Den, not at Headquarters."
"I think he’d prefer that," said Harry as Hagrid let them all go. "And I know Letha would. Especially since Kreacher’s back."
"Little pest." Hagrid made a fist. "He’d best stay out o’ my way, or I might jus’ step on him... by accident, o’ course..."
The Pride laughed all the way back to the castle at the half-guilty tone in which Hagrid had added that final phrase.
xXxXx
"This will be our last DA meeting before holidays," Harry said, standing in front of a mostly-full Room of Requirement. "When we come back, we’re going to be an official school club, under Professor Longbottom."
"Does that mean you won’t run the meetings anymore?" asked Su Li.
"Not unless you want me to leave—"
Harry barely got the word out before the room erupted in denials, each House trying to outdo the others in vehemence. "All right, all right!" he shouted, willing his words to carry, and the DA fell silent once more. "If you want me that badly, you’ve got me. Professor Longbottom will sit in on meetings when she can, she’ll demonstrate the things I don’t know yet, she might arrange for guest lecturers sometimes, but I’ll keep running the show day-to-day, as much as I can."
"Why would you not be able to?" Tessa Malloy asked, looking confused.
"Because we’re going to expand." Harry spread his hands to include the entire DA. "Tell all your friends about us. Tell the people you sit with in class, the others in your dorms, everyone. Try to get them to come to meetings, or at least to pay better attention in Defense—it’s going to stop being a joke after holidays."
"About time," Lee Jordan said loudly.
"It’s not Professor Longbottom’s fault—" Neville began heatedly.
"No one thought it was," Danielle cut him off. "We all knew it was Umbridge who was keeping her from teaching us anything worthwhile. Now she’s gone, we can finally start learning what we’ll need to know to pass our tests."
"And to survive," Roger Davies added. "With You-Know-Who come back, another war starting..."
The DA shivered collectively. Knots of people huddled closer together.
"I think we’ve discussed this already," Harry said, drawing everyone’s eyes back to him. "If we haven’t, we should have. Drop the ‘You-Know-Who’ nonsense. He picked out the name himself, he shouldn’t mind us saying it. Voldemort."
A much larger shiver, combined with little gasps and cries. Harry ignored it. "If you can’t say that, try ‘Dark Git’ or ‘Old Moldy,’" he advised, and grinned at the nervous laughter rippling around the assembled students. "See? That’s what we have to do. Laugh. Smile, play games, enjoy life. We’ll have to fight, yes. But if we lose who we are, what makes us different, then we’ve become what we’re fighting, and Voldemort wins."
The gasps were slightly fewer this time, but still present. Harry scowled. "I’ll stand here saying it all day if I have to. Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort!"
"Oh, stop!" Fred cried in a high-pitched, trembling voice. "Stop, or I shall swoon!"
A real laugh this time. Harry joined it, then nodded to the Pride. They joined in his chant. "Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort!"
"Oooohhhh!" Fred pressed a hand to his forehead and wobbled in place. "How can you be so cruel!"
"Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort!" Harry and the Pride repeated, getting louder every time. Other DA members were joining in now—most of the Gryffindors had come in around the fourth repetition, the Hufflepuffs were gaining in strength every second, here and there a Ravenclaw joined in, and the Slytherins (to Harry’s secret delight) had been shouting almost as long as the Gryffindors. "Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort!"
"Oooooooooohhhhhh!" Fred collapsed theatrically to the floor.
George dropped to his knees beside his twin, his face tragic. "Fred! Damn you, you’ve killed him!" he shouted at the rest of the DA before returning his attention to his brother, lifting his upper body off the ground and cradling him against his chest. "Fred, speak to me! Say something!"
Fred twitched, groaned, and opened his eyes. "Voldemort?" he said hopefully, peering up at George.
The DA exploded in laughter as George, his expression now completely disgusted, let go. Fred caught himself on his forearms and grinned around cheerily, George’s expression magically changed to his usual mischievous smile, and they both took a bow from their respective positions, soaking up the applause.
Harry gauged the proper moment, then raised his hands for quiet and got it within a few moments. "Thank you, gentlemen—which term I use loosely—for making my point," he said, nodding to the twins. "It’s a name. Only a name. Granted, it belongs to an evil wizard who wants us all either dead or doing whatever he wants. We’re not likely to stop being afraid of him. But we shouldn’t be afraid of his name. If you still want to say ‘You-Know-Who’ out there, that’s fine. In here, we call a wand a wand." He held up his own, to renewed laughter. "Voldemort."
"Voldemort," the DA echoed in a prolonged rumble.
"So now, since we’ve got that out of the way..." Harry jumped down from the dais where he’d been standing. "To return to the earlier point of this meeting, about having fun and enjoying ourselves... house-elves, please!"
A loud series of cracks echoed through the room, and at least two dozen house-elves materialized, each bearing a large bowl or platter. Tables burst from the floor to receive them, and the house-elves whisked away the covers to reveal the contents.
"We get our own feast!" Colin Creevey burst out. "Wicked!"
"Thank you, house-elves," Harry called, prompting a chorus of "Thank you!" and "It looks great!" from the DA. The house-elves flushed and disappeared, though a few of them waved their hands in return, and Harry saw Kady giggle a bit before she vanished last of all.
"I’ve had something in the back of my head about them ever since Mum turned up in Dumbledore’s office with Winky," Ginny said, putting her arms around Harry’s waist from behind. "I talked it over a little with Ron while we were waiting at St. Mungo’s for visiting hours..."
"How’s your dad doing, by the way?" Harry interjected.
"He’ll be all right. Home in time for Christmas, even." Ginny chuckled. "They’ve got him taking so many potions he sloshes every time he turns over, and he still hurts some, but he’s cheerful. He’s hoping you can come visit when holidays start. He wants to say thank you in person."
"I’ll do that." Harry turned to face Ginny and put his own arms around her. "Do they know?" he asked. "Your mum and dad? About us?"
"I haven’t told them, if that’s what you mean, but they’ve been expecting it a long time. I’m pretty sure Dad’s in on whatever bet Mr. Padfoot and Mr. Moony have going."
Harry sighed. "Why am I not surprised they’ve bet on my love life?"
"Because you know perfectly well they’ll bet on anything?" Ginny let go of Harry’s waist, but only to grasp his hand and tug him towards the tables. "Let’s get some food before it’s all gone."
"Ginny, this is Hogwarts. The food is never gone."
"That’s no reason not to get it while it’s hot."
"Good point."
They joined the line just behind Justin Finch-Fletchley and Heidi Mills, who was still giggling. "Your brothers are so funny!" she told Ginny. "I don’t think I’ll ever be really afraid to say..." She lowered her voice. "Voldemort... ever again!"
"Yes, they’re good at what they do," Ginny said fondly. "It almost makes me sad to think what we’re going to do to them tomorrow."
"Something planned for tomorrow?" Justin looked interested. "A prank, maybe?"
"No spoilers," Harry said, shaking his head. "You’ll see when everyone else does."
"Awwww," said Justin, Heidi, and several other people in front of them in the line.
Fred and George, on the other side of the room, turned around. "Did we hear the word ‘prank,’ perchance?" said George.
"Coupled with our noble appellation?" Fred picked up.
"Could it be—no, perish the thought..." George shuddered dramatically.
"Never fear, brother mine, I shall finish it for you." Fred threw out a hand. "Could it be that our beloved sister cares for us less than she should?"
George recovered enough to clasp his hands soulfully at Ginny. "Less enough, perhaps, to play a prank on us?"
"On the very people who taught her the meaning of the word!" Fred appealed to the DA. "It wrings my heart."
George laid a hand on his chest. "It wounds my soul."
"We are broken men." Fred shook his head sadly. "Broken beyond repair."
"Good," Ginny said. "Then what we’ve got planned for tomorrow won’t break you any further."
Snickers ran around the room as the twins looked apprehensively at one another.
xXxXx
"So what were you talking about with house-elves?" Harry asked Ginny later, as the Pride sat in a circle around one of the small round tables the Room had sprouted for them.
"Well, what’s the one magical thing you can’t do at Hogwarts?" Ginny asked, looking around the entire table.
"Apparate," Hermione said promptly. "Or Disapparate."
"It comes to the same thing," Ron said, waving a fork loaded with roast beef. "The point is, that’s only true about wizards and witches. Not about other creatures."
"Other creatures like house-elves!" Meghan bounced once in her chair. "Can they take people with them when they do it?"
"Winky can," said Ginny. "She brought Mum to Dumbledore’s office while Harry was missing, remember?"
"And if Winky can, other house-elves should be able to," Draco said, nodding. "Ginny, I think you’re onto something."
"The Flying Squad," said Harry. "Pair up DA members with house-elves. Snap into a spot, throw a spell, snap out again. They’d never be there long enough to be shot at, and there’d be no way to predict where they’d show up."
"The only problem would be if the Death Eaters started booby-trapping whole rooms," Neville said. "Or setting up deadfalls that would respond to house-elf magic."
"They wouldn’t do that if they didn’t know we were partnering with house-elves in the first place," said Luna. "It’s why Wrackspurt attacks are so successful—no one can tell they’re there, so no one can defend against them..."
"How would we stop them knowing we were working with house-elves, Starwing?" Draco cut in.
"Easy." Luna smiled. "The house-elf hides under our robes."
"Of course," said Hermione, starting to smile. "As long as all the students who do this are old enough to have learned to Apparate, or at least look it, the Death Eaters would just think that we’d found a way to avoid the wards. They’d never think to look for non-human magic—"
"Because they think all non-humans are scum," Harry finished. "Ginny, you’ve definitely got something there. Put it on the list for next term."
Ron snickered. "Another thing we could do," he said. "Wear a talisman pinned on our robes, or around our necks. They’ll think it’s that we’re using to get past the wards, they’ll try to steal one, and when they get one, they’ll try to Apparate around the castle with it on..."
Ginny winced. "They might manage to bend the wards a little, because they think they can," she said. "But they wouldn’t get all the way through them. And you know what that means."
Neville ripped a bread roll in half and held up the pieces, making the Pride chuckle. "All we’d have to do would be walk around and pick them up in baskets," he said. "And maybe they’d get put back together wrong."
"By accident, of course," said Meghan, sitting virtuously straight.
"Of course." Neville grinned at her and tossed her half the roll.
Harry traced a design in his mashed potatoes with his fork. "You know what just struck me?" he said. "We’re assuming Death Eaters will get into Hogwarts. We’re planning for them to get through the best wards in Britain, and whatever defenses the teachers have set up... why?"
"Because it’s better to be safe than sorry?" Hermione suggested.
"Because wards can always be bypassed," Draco added.
"And because it’s fun to think up ways to stop them being awful," Meghan said happily. "They’ll think we’re sweet innocent little kiddies who couldn’t hurt a fly..."
"Not if they’ve ever met you, they won’t." Harry flicked a bit of potato at Meghan. "And I knew all that, really I did."
"You just wanted to be sure we knew it, right, mate," Ron said, his face completely straight. "We understand."
"Our wise and selfless leader, willing to look stupid to be sure that we know everything we need to survive," said Ginny. "Whatever would we do without you?"
"We would cry." Luna pulled a long face. "And be very sad in other ways. Because we love Harry."
Neville swallowed his bite of roll. "I’d probably be panicking," he said. "I’m not ready to be first-string against Voldemort."
"And I am?" Harry demanded.
"You’re alive. It’s more than I’d be."
"You don’t know that."
"No, but I’ve got a pretty good guess."
Harry shrugged. "It’s always been more luck than anything. Luck, and help, and him underestimating me. Which I don’t think he’ll do anymore. Which scares me quite a lot."
"So come up with a trick he’s not expecting," Hermione said. "Figure out a place you can hit him that he’s not guarding, a place that will hurt. And then do it again and again."
"And keep losing my friends and family along the way?" Harry set his fork down, his appetite gone. "I’m sick of war already, and it’s barely even started yet."
"It’s going to take a lot to lose me," Ginny said quietly, laying her fingers on the back of his hand. "Or any of us. We’re well-protected, we can fight, and we know we might have to. What more can we do?"
"Nothing." Harry turned his hand over to hold Ginny’s. "Unless we attack him first. And we don’t know enough yet."
"So that’s something we can do," Neville said. "Find out more about Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Find out what they really want. They talk about purity and power, but is that everything? And even if it is, how are they going to get it?"
"They’re going to go around killing and torturing people, how else?" Ron said.
"Yes, but which people, Ron?" Meghan asked, setting down her goblet. "If they just kill anyone, then it won’t make a difference. Voldemort’s probably got a plan. If we can figure some of it out, we might be able to stop him from doing it."
Draco waved a hand for attention. "I thought the point of this feast was to have fun," he said when everyone was looking at him. "Not to keep talking about the war, which is not fun. I move we have some fun now and talk about not-fun things later."
"Seconded," Harry said promptly.
"All in favor?" said Ginny.
"Aye," said the expected chorus.
"Vote is unanimous," Hermione droned. "Motion passes. We shall only talk about fun things at this table from here until the end of our feast."
Harry took a deep breath and felt the load on his shoulders shift. It hadn’t gone away, but he was taking a rest from it for a moment. "So. Fun." He picked up his fork again and scooped up some of the potatoes. "Do you think Angelina will let me back on the Quidditch team?"
Ron, Ginny, and Draco all gave him identical ‘don’t-be-stupid’ looks.
xXxXx
At another table, Maya Pritchard poured gravy over her roast chicken. "I need some advice," she said to Selena Moon, who sat next to her. "I wrote my parents the letter I’d been dreading—to say that I didn’t want to be married yet, that I wanted to finish school first—and Mother wrote back just saying we’d talk about it over the holidays. I’m not sure what to think."
"Would she lie to you?" Selena asked, taking a small bite of bread.
"I don’t think so. Not deliberately. But Father could have concealed something from her. And if I leave here..."
"You’re not seventeen," Selena pointed out. "They could make you come home. Unless you can prove you’d be in real danger there..."
"And I can’t, because I don’t know!" Maya stabbed her fork into the chicken. "It just doesn’t sound right. Suddenly they’re being reasonable, after their letters have been getting more and more full of duty all through the autumn. My sacred duty, my inescapable duty..."
"I understand," Selena said, squeezing her friend’s hand. "Be glad you’re not me. I have to tell my parents something even worse."
Maya raised an eyebrow. "Worse than ‘I don’t believe anything you’ve taught me and I refuse to do what you want me to’?"
"Yes. Worse." Selena drew Maya close and whispered in her ear.
Maya jerked upright. "No!"
"Oh, yes." Selena smiled. "Very much so."
Maya glanced at Roger, sitting across the table and talking with two of the other Ravenclaw boys. "Does he know?" she asked softly.
"Er..." Selena blushed.
"That looks like a no."
"Yes, it’s a no. There just hasn’t been a good time."
"There never will be," Maya said. "And he deserves to know. Before the holidays, not after."
"Speaking of holidays." Selena grimaced. "I have parties through most of mine. You?"
Maya nodded grimly. "Formal parties. Dress robes and company manners."
"Shall we see if there’s a night we’re both free, and we can get together?"
"Oh, yes please." Maya grinned. "I have a new custom I want to introduce you to. I think you’ll like it."
"A new custom?" Selena frowned. "Did you make it up?"
"No, but you’d never believe me if I told you where it came from. Maybe some other time."
"Maybe so." Selena took another small bite of bread. "Meanwhile, I think I’ll concentrate on settling my stomach..."
xXxXx
At breakfast the next morning, the Weasley twins were noticeably anxious. Both were seen double-checking their food and drink for hexes, and both jumped any time anyone nearby made a sudden movement.
"You’re wasting your time," Ron said, taking another sausage link. "We’re not stupid, you know."
Fred stopped in the middle of a bite of eggs. "We, little brother?"
Ron grinned. "You didn’t think they’d prank you without my help?"
"We weren’t sure," George said. "It sounded like it’d been all Ginny’s idea. Maybe with some help from Harry."
"It was Ginny’s idea, but I came up with the delivery system. That’s how I know you’re wasting your time." Ron bit the sausage in half. "Oo oo eh-uh oo eh oh ohs," he said indistinctly.
The twins glanced at each other and shrugged. Ron glanced across the table at Hermione’s watch, mentally rotating the dial so he could read it. Eight-fourteen and forty-five seconds... fifty... fifty-five...
He swallowed. "I said, you’d do better to check your clothes."
Fred looked at George. George looked at Fred. Identical expressions of panic crossed both their faces, just as the sweep hand on Hermione’s watch passed the twelve.
With a poof, miniature Christmas trees appeared on top of the twins’ respective heads. Fred’s was covered in blue lights, George’s in yellow, and the tiny star on top of each tree had a face engraved on it.
"Aww!" cooed Alicia from beyond the twins. "They’re so cute! What do they do?"
"Say their names," Ginny prompted. "One or both of them. You’ll see."
"George!" cried Alicia quickly.
George’s star opened its eyes and began to sing loudly.
"Ye yish woo a Chrerry Mismas,
"Ye yish woo a Chrerry Mismas,
"Ye yish woo a Chrerry Mismas,
"And a Nappy Yoo Hear!"
The eyes closed again as the Hall hooted with laughter. George turned scarlet and sank down in his seat.
"Fred," said Angelina without needing to be prompted.
Fred’s star opened its eyes—
"Heck the dolls with hows of bolly,
"La fa fa fa fa, fa fa fa fa!
"’Sis the teason boo gee tolly,
"La fa fa fa fa, fa fa fa fa!
"Non ee wow our day gapparel,
"La fa fa fa fa, fa fa fa fa!
"Throll ee tancient cooltide yarol,
"La fa fa fa fa, fa fa fa fa!"
Fred groaned aloud over the second round of laughter. "Are we going to have to listen to this all day?" he asked.
"Any time anyone says your names," Ginny said gleefully. "And if anyone says Weasley—"
The two trees burst into song at the same moment. The cacophony was incredible.
"A nappy you hear," Alicia mused when the music, such as it was, had finished. "I wonder if anyone’s invented something like that? One that’d tell the mum when the baby’s wet?"
"And why would anyone want to heck the dolls?" Katie Bell added. "Poor things. What did they ever do to us?"
The twins’ blushes, which had been fading, renewed themselves instantly.
Harry leaned over. "Any questions?" he said.
"Can we apologize now?" George said.
"You can. I don’t know if it’ll change anything."
"We’re sorry about the halo," said Fred. "Really sorry. We won’t do it again."
Harry folded his arms and gave them his best unconvinced look.
"Promise."
"Double-promise."
"Triple-promise."
"Weasley pro—" Fred began before the trees drowned him out.
"On your family name, then?" Harry asked when the songs were over.
Both twins nodded vigorously.
Harry looked at Hermione. Lunchtime? he signed.
That seems fair, her hands replied. Ginny? Ron?
Ron nodded as Ginny signed, Fine with me.
"You’ll have them removed at lunchtime," Harry said, turning back to the twins. "Until then... try to relax and enjoy the music. In the spirit of the season."
The twins sighed in unison. "He’s evil, Fred," said George.
"Heck the dolls with hows of bolly!"
"Truly evil, George," Fred agreed.
"Ye yish woo a Chrerry Mismas—"
Up at the staff table, Professor McGonagall covered her ears.
xXxXx
Sirius had just walked in the door when the screeching and thumping caught his ear. Not even bothering to hang up his cloak, he sprinted down the stairs to the basement kitchen.
Dobby and Kreacher were rolling on the floor together, kicking and punching at each other, while Winky stood by watching, wringing her ears in her hands.
"BREAK IT UP!" Sirius bellowed in his best crowd-control voice, and both house-elves froze. Dobby scrambled up, bowed, and cast a venomous look at Kreacher. Kreacher stayed on the ground but snaked his head around to glare at Sirius. "All right, what’s going on?"
"Kreacher torments poor Winky, all the day long!" Dobby said angrily, looking at his wife, who now had her hands over her face. "Calls her bad names and keeps her from her work—and when Kreacher knows Winky has her elflets soon!"
"Twisted, those elflets will be," Kreacher muttered from his place on the floor. "Think themselves as good as humans..."
Winky wailed aloud. Dobby ran to her and grasped her hands, pulling them away from her face. "Kreacher is the bad elf, not Winky, love, never listen to him... Winky is a good elf, listens to her Mistress and makes her happy..." He glanced over his shoulder, his enormous eyes begging Sirius to help him.
"Kreacher, up," Sirius said sternly.
Kreacher obeyed, sullenness in his every hangdog line, a sullen mutter escaping his lips as he came. "—disgrace to the house, taking Kreacher’s work away from him, Kreacher’s work that he did for so many years and never a complaint except from this Master, no, and the things Kreacher could tell, the things he saw, but he won’t tell, no, Kreacher is a good elf and keeps the Master’s secrets..."
"I’m glad to hear it," said Sirius, folding his arms. "Now listen up. You want orders, here are orders. Go to your cupboard. You can come out when you can be civil to everyone else who lives here. Everyone. You understand me?"
"Kreacher understands the Master, yes," Kreacher croaked, bowing. "Kreacher will obey... Kreacher always obeys, Kreacher is a good elf..."
"Now," Sirius snapped.
With a crack, Kreacher was gone. Winky slumped in place, shaking. Dobby patted her back. "Dobby is sorry Sirius Black had to see that, sir," he said earnestly to Sirius. "Dobby would like it better if house-elves did not need to always go to wizards for help..."
"You and me both, Dobby." Sirius sighed and unpinned his cloak. "But some things take time to fix. And some might be beyond fixing."
"Not this, sir." Dobby shook his head hard. "Dobby and Winky will teach their elflets the new way. Serving the Masters, yes, but not like that." He glared at the closed cupboard door behind which Kreacher’s muttering could still be faintly heard. "Dobby thinks there could be a way that makes wizards and house-elves better!"
Great. A house-elf idealist. As if we didn’t have enough problems... "Best of luck with it, you two," Sirius said, starting for the stairs. "Call me if Kreacher finds some way around those orders."
Aletha was waiting for him in the hallway. "I heard you shout," she explained, taking the cloak from his hand. "But I’m afraid I didn’t want to get mixed up in all that downstairs..."
"I don’t blame you. House-elves take some getting used to, even the best of them, and Kreacher’s hardly the best." Sirius took a closer look at his wife’s face. Her skin held an unhealthy gray undertone, and there were dark circles under her eyes. "Letha, love, what’s wrong?"
Aletha leaned against him. "I want to go home," she whispered. "I can’t be here anymore, not where it all happened, not where everything went so wrong... it doesn’t have to be forever, but just for Christmas, can’t we go home?"
"Yes, of course we can." Sirius held her close. "We’ll find a way. We’ll make it happen. Home for Christmas. I promise."
Long-held tensions drained out of Aletha’s shoulders, and she draped her arms around Sirius’ neck. "Christmas Eve denning under the tree," she murmured. "So the cubs can get their presents first thing in the morning... Danger and Harry making Christmas morning breakfast, and the rest of us helping and betting on what will go wrong this year..."
"Putting each other in boxes for Boxing Day," Sirius added. "Staying up on New Year’s and telling the funniest stories of the old year. And even a regular den night, a few days after that. We’ll have it all, you wait and see. We’ll have our holidays, just like we always do. Nothing’s going to stop that."
The smile on Aletha’s face was the first unpained one Sirius had seen from her since Marcus had died, and he swore silently that he’d do whatever it took to keep her looking that way.
I don’t care if I have to set the wards around that house with my own blood. We are going home for the holidays.
xXxXx
In his cupboard, Kreacher muttered to himself.
"—could tell plenty of things, oh yes. Kreacher could tell what Kreacher’s new Master said about the girls, oh yes, but the old Master isn’t interested in what Kreacher has to say, oh no, he’s not... Master knows best, and Kreacher must go to his cupboard, and mustn’t say how some are sworn not to kill, and how some are training with the magic that takes away the fright and the rage... Kreacher mustn’t say how one thing is harmless, and another thing is harmless, when they’re all alone, but when they come together, under the light of the moon... oh no, no, no. Kreacher mustn’t say."
Author Notes:
Phew. I think I’ve got all the plotlines for this arc going, but this is hard work! Doggone me, anyway, for having so many! But without them, the story wouldn’t be nearly so much fun,
and you wouldn’t all read it like you do...
All right. Possibly I sleep now, seeing as it’s after 4:30 am, but possibly I will stay up and wait for reviews. It’s all up to you, my loving readers! Do what you wish!