Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Harry Potter and the Burden of Becoming

Chapter 43 - Holiday Surprise

~~~***~~~

All the students had found their way to their carriages, leaving the corridor leading down the train empty; they were alone. Harry saw her there before him and for an instant he lost all sense of purpose and direction. Her face wore the familiar smile that always melted his heart and her eyes were dancing with a twinkle that could only be Gabriella's. How long had he waited to be with her again? How many hours had he stayed up at night thinking only of this moment? Suddenly, he realized he was utterly and completely exposing himself to attack. Still holding her wrists, his hands tightened and his eyes narrowed. He looked hard trying to see through the veneer.

"The eyes," he thought to himself. He gazed intently at the black pools beckoning him forward. They were true, but still he questioned his senses.

"What magic is this?" his voice quavered. "Who are you?"

"Harry, it's me, Gabriella."

"Liar!" he screamed out. He let go of one of her wrists and withdrew his wand. "Tell me your name! Show your self!"

"My true self?" she said mischievously. Harry stood frozen, every fiber ready to bring this imposter down. "Don't be silly," she said with a twinkle in her eye. In that instant, Harry relaxed.

"Gabriella?" he asked softly.

In a blur she spun, her wrist easily breaking free of Harry's grasp. Before he could respond, she turned and threw her leg high into the air, her foot striking Harry's wand and sending it flying down the corridor. Without hesitation Harry raised his right hand and a blast of white light struck the girl in the chest sending her into the wall. She crumpled to the ground coughing.

"I haven't seen that one," she gasped, rubbing her collar bone. "Mama said you were special."

"Gabriella?" In a flash it became clear. There was only one person in this world Harry knew capable of removing his wand by hand and she'd done it without harming him in any way. Immediately he fell to her side, regretting every word that had come from his mouth. "I'm sorry... I'm so, so sorry... Are you okay?"

"Harry," she gasped, bringing him closer. Then she whispered seductively into his ear, "when you bend over like this... you put yourself... at the disadvantage." In an instant, she had his shoulder with her hand, her thumb driving forward and striking a nerve, sending waves of pain into Harry's body. She swung her leg around his waist and pushed him down against the floor. He was unable to move his arm... completely helpless. She let go and pressed her entire body against his kissing him hard. "God, I've missed you," she said breathlessly. Immediately, he responded wrapping his arms tight around her waist and pulling her close.

"Uh-hum," a voice coughed from the corridor. "Could you two bring that in here?" It was Cho Chang, a knowing grin on her face. She was standing at the door of the nearest carriage, beckoning them inside.

"Cho?" Harry questioned from the floor, his back against the wall. Gabriella took to her feet and pulled Harry up by his shirt with both her hands.

"Some wizard you are, Potter," said Cho. "Taken down by a girl no less. Here, you may need this later." She handed him his wand as both he and Gabriella entered the empty carriage. "I have to get back to the prefect's meeting so I only have a few minutes." She sat down across from Harry and Gabriella. Harry was completely dumbfounded, a perplexed expression on his face. "You know Harry, you don't look well," she snickered. Harry looked at Cho, and then to Gabriella, and back again. He was speechless. Finally, Cho explained.

"One night, a few weeks ago, I sent an owl off with a post. I addressed it to Harry's Gabriella." Cho looked at Harry and patted his leg. "I was being stupid, Harry. I know that now."

"Well, imagine my surprise when it came to me," said Gabriella. A look of fear spread across Harry's eyes. "You are an incurable criminal," she said, pinching his arm hard. "Still, I wrote her back..."

"... and we've been writing ever since," added Cho. She shifted in her seat, stood, and then gave Gabriella a hug. "I wondered what sort of Muggle would capture my Harry's heart so completely. Hah!" Cho laughed, winking at Gabriella and stepping out into the corridor. "I've placed a locking charm on the outside of your door that not even Hermione Granger could open. You'd best keep an eye out for the trolley when it comes time to eat. But until then, you two are all alone." Cho winked and waived her fingers, closing the door behind her. The second the door closed, Gabriella wrapped her arms around Harry's neck and squeezed him tight.

"Thank goodness you're okay," she whispered. "Let me see." She reached for his shirt.

"See what?" Harry asked, still completely lost and totally un-centered.

"Where it pierced you," she answered, but still he was flummoxed. "The broom!" she said exasperated as she unbuttoned his shirt revealing his bare chest and abdomen. "Cho said you almost died and you didn't say a word!"

"I couldn't say, Gab. How could I? Pierced by a broom. What would you think? I tripped sweeping the floor?" She pulled his shirt back exposing the thin, red outline of the six-inch scar that still had not quite healed completely. Gabriella let out a gasp, holding one hand to her mouth while the other touched the scar.

"This should be healed by now!" she exclaimed, a bit of an over reaction in Harry's mind. After all, it was nearly healed.

"Well," he began, "I need to go back next summer and..."

"Next summer!" she cut in with even more concern. "What type of Healers do you have at that school of yours, anyway?" Her eyes flashed with anger and her lips went thin. The expression only lasted for a moment.

"Well, it wasn't healed at the school, really. They worked on me at..."

"I've been a fool. I can't do this any longer," she said quietly. She kissed his neck, and then his chest, and then her lips touched the remnants of the scar. Harry squirmed a bit, trying to keep his right leg from twitching. She whispered something Harry couldn't hear, then placed both her hands where Harry had been skewered. At first the sensation was warm and Harry began to relax. Slowly the warmth turned cold, uncomfortably cold. Harry tried to move, but Gabriella wouldn't let him. It felt as if his flesh was turning to ice and it was spreading from her fingers out across his entire body. He was about to forcibly push her away, when she let go. The warmth rushed back and Harry looked down. The scar was gone.

"There, that's better," she said with a look of satisfaction on her face, and then her lips curled down. "But there's something else wrong with your liver." Her eyes flickered with fear as she held his hands. "Oh, Harry, Cho was right. You almost died."

Harry's eyes grew wide. He looked to the door, contemplating Cho's last words, trying to put these new pieces together.

"You... you're..." he stammered. "Are you?" he breathed. Gabriella smiled and wrapped her arms around him again.

"Don't be silly," she whispered. "Would Cho bring me here if I weren't?" Hearing these words, Harry pulled back.

"Why... why didn't you tell me?" he snapped.

"And why didn't you tell me?" she fired back. "If you had died..." Her eyes were angry, and then sorrowful. She folded her arms, crossed her legs, and sat in the corner looking out the window. Outside, the sun blared bright against the white of the snow covering the earth. As Harry gazed at Gabriella's silhouette against the lighted window, her face radiated with a brilliance and beauty that melted his heart. He moved over, sat at her side, and placed his hand on her arm.

"I missed you, too," he whispered tilting his head gently against hers. A thin smile moved across Gabriella's face as she unfolded her arms. Harry smiled back, reaching down to button up his shirt. Gabriella stopped the motion, taking his hand in hers.

"Don't be silly," she said, a twinkle flashing in her black eyes. She leaned over and kissed his lips. "We have things to do." Harry's heart began to pound as he pulled her tight.

Over two hours had passed before the trolley came by, offering food for the passengers. In that time, Harry had done his best to tell her everything. He spoke of his birth and of Voldemort, of how he came to live with the Dursleys, and finally of how he first learned that he was a wizard and came to Hogwarts. He had never spoken of the prophecy with anyone, although Ron and Hermione may have guessed it, and he would not share that with Gabriella. He did warn her, however, that she was in danger by being his girlfriend.

"Is that what I am, Harry?" she asked, taking a bite of sandwich and wiping the edge of her mouth with a white napkin. "Because I don't remember you asking me." There was the faintest hint of a smile on her face as she looked at him from the corner of her eye. Harry felt his tongue disappear somewhere down his throat as he tried to croak a response.

"Well, I assumed that..."

"Oh that's classic!" she snapped, seeming to enjoy the moment. "I assumed," she mocked in her best Potter voice. "Let's get something straight right now. My name is Gabriella Arasha Darbinyan and no boy assumes anything where I am concerned. If you have plans for me in your life, Mr. Potter, you'd best ask straight away." She set her hands together in her lap, her legs crossed, waiting for an answer. For the smallest of moments, Harry hesitated and then a smile crossed his face. Setting his sandwich down, he reached out and took her hand.

"Ms. Darbinyan," he said, mustering his best formal voice. "Would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?"

"Do you know what it means if I say yes?" she asked coyly. "You won't be running around gallivanting with every girl in that school of yours. And that includes the likes of Cho Chang! I don't care how wonderful she is."

"I know."

"Do you?" she asked sternly.

"I do."

"Then... yes," answered Gabriella. "I will be your girlfriend and we are officially a couple." She kissed him gently, then paused. "By the way, I invited Cho over for the holiday."

"You what?" Harry called out. There was a knock on the door and Harry held his finger up to his lips to silence Gabriella.

"Alohomora!" It was Hermione trying to open the door, but it would not move. "Patefacio!" she called out using a spell Harry had not heard before. Still the door remained firm.

"Bloody hell!" Ron yelled out. "That's the last carriage. He's been taken, Hermione! I know it. We've got to tell..." Shirtless, Harry slid open the door, only poking his head out. Looking down the corridor he saw two students pass into a carriage leaving the corridor empty except for Ron and Hermione.

"Looking for something?" Harry asked, a grin on his face.

"Harry!" Ron called out heading for the door to push it open. "What have you been... Hey, open the door." Harry just smiled.

"'Bit busy, Ron," Harry said, holding the door tight. "Maybe you two could stop by later. Don't you have some sort of prefect thingy to do?"

"What happened to your hair?" Hermione asked. Harry's head was a mess even on the best of days, but now it was a dreadful disaster. "And what's this?" she asked pointing to a red-blue bruise on his neck. She tried to peak about the door and her eyes narrowed. "Harry Potter... you.... Do you know what would happen if a professor found out?"

"And are you going to track one down?" Harry asked with a tinge of rancor in his voice. Hermione just scowled.

"Come on Ron. Let's go."

Ron was confused, and crushingly curious to see behind the door. "But..."

"Come on. Can't you see he's busy?" Hermione grabbed Ron's arm and yanked him from the door.

"Busy doin' what?" Ron asked walking backwards down the corridor. Harry had to laugh as he closed the door and turned to see Gabriella looking out the window. The sun was now low on the horizon and began to stream into the carriage. He stood there, transfixed at the girl who had captured his soul. He pulled on his shirt and ran his fingers through his hair. When she turned to face him, her eyes were red, and tears were falling down her cheeks. Still, she smiled, and spoke without the slightest waver in her voice.

"Ron and Hermione... your friends... your best friends. Cho told me that the three of you are inseparable. It was Ron that I met in London, right?" she asked. Harry nodded his head and sat down next to her.

"Only you're wrong on one account, Gabriella. You are my best friend," he said with a sense of satisfaction in his phrasing. But, Gabriella did not respond as he expected.

"Do you think, Harry?" she asked looking at the sun skimming through the trees, flashing light and dark into their carriage. "Cho says you've all known each other since you arrived at Hogwarts over five years ago. That's a long time to stay friends. A test of time." She wiped the tears from her face. "Each day you're away from me, I feel I'm going to lose you."

"But you don't have to stay away! Come with me to Hogwarts!" said Harry, setting on his own vision of the future. "You'd be a Gryffindor, I know you would!" Gabriella smiled and shook her head.

"That will never happen, Harry." She took a deep breath as if steeling herself for a great effort. Mustering courage from deep within, she turned and looked at her boyfriend's green eyes. "For an hour we spoke of your family... your history. You think you know mine? Joy at the ocean, dreaming of the sunsets on the Mediterranean?" Not knowing what to say, Harry simply shrugged and nodded. "When I look at the sunset and cry, it is not that I am homesick. It is that I miss my brother." Tears began to well up in her eyes again and she turned to look out the carriage window. The lowering sun flickered through the trees like an old film flashing across her eyes.

"You're brother?" Harry asked; she had never mentioned having a brother before. Gabriella took another deep breath and tried to gather herself, but her hand began to tremble and Harry took it into his own.

"Harry," she breathed. "When I tell you... please, don't make excuses. Just... just go to join your friends. I'll understand."

"Tell me what?" Harry asked, his voice pitching higher. She kissed his hand and tried to muster a smile, but it failed miserably.

"My father is a wizard," she began, trying to steady her voice. "Quite accomplished as an Astronomer and in the Healing Charms, he has lectured around the world. In my country wizards and witches start their instruction earlier than here, often before the age of six depending on when the child begins to show signs of their skill. There is a small school outside of Tripoli, not the University of Balamand, but Al Bsahri, where my father was a professor and where wizards were taught the art and science of magic. Wizards, that is, but not witches. In Lebanon, witches are denied access to wands and formal training and forced to learn their skills at home. Fortunately for me, my mother was quite gifted in certain ways, although she is not what my people would call a witch." There was a brief flicker of a smile on Gabriella's face that quickly faded. "Mama comes from a different line." Her breathing began to quicken and her body tensed.

"My brother, Antreas, was three years my elder, but he showed no magical ability at all. When he was eleven, it became clear that he was a... a..." she searched for the translation.

"A Squib."

"Yes, a Squib," Gabriella continued, a distaste for the word apparent on her face. "It was a great disappointment to my father, although he loved us all dearly. Antreas continued to attend school with Muggles, but when I was nine I started showing strong signs of the gift. My father insisted that the rules be changed at Al Bsahri, that I might attend, but I refused to leave my brother. If my mother was content without such training, then so too would I. I would follow my mother's path. But when my brother graduated, my father convinced the professors and me to join him at Al Bsahri and, to my eternal regret, I did. For years I had practiced the martial arts and I found the movement and flicks of a wand quite similar. I picked the skills up quickly and was soon surpassing many of my male classmates. I endured endless jeers for being the only girl at the school, accused of receiving special treatment because my father was close friends with the Headmaster. They were all so smug, so superior. Often, I would think to leave, but when I would see my father... so proud.... At night he would beam and go on about all that I had accomplished, while my brother, who still lived with us, would sit silently enduring the occasional snipes that Papa would send his way."

"Each day, Antreas would go to work at the docks. 'Soon, I'll have enough money to buy my own house,' he would say. 'A grand villa by the ocean! You'll come to dinner, and together we will watch the sun cool its fires in the sea.'" Gabriella stopped and forced herself to draw in a deep breath. "When he returned home, instead of listening to his dreams, my father would continue to gush stories of me from school." Her entire body started trembling and Harry pulled her close to his. "I... I began to think myself special... superior to Muggles... better than my brother and before I realized it, I began to laugh when my father would pull Antreas down. I would join the jokes and jeers. Soon our dinners ended with Mama calling, 'Enough!' and leaving the table." Tears were flowing freely down her face, but her voice remained steady and strong. Clearly enduring a great pain, she continued.

"One day... my birthday... Papa took me to buy my first broom. I had grown to love Quidditch, but had never flown before. 'That's no excuse,' Papa said. 'You'll be Al Bsahri's Chaser by year's end; wait and see. You have all the ingredients Gabriella: focus, determination and a willingness to attack all the challenges before you.'" Imitating her father's voice, her eyes brightened for a moment, but then they fell as she looked down at her hands.

"We were away shopping at a magical village outside Tripoli, when Antreas thought to bring me his gift in person. He came to visit the school alone for the first time. What he found was an abomination. When Papa would leave the school to lecture, one of the professors, the Headmaster, my father's friend would hold secret meetings. He had begun teaching select students the Dark Arts... the Unforgivable Curses, and the secrets of immortality.

On this day, in Papa's absence, he had gathered many of the students for a special ceremonial sacrifice. Antreas knew nothing of my whereabouts and searched the school until he unwittingly stumbled across the assembled brethren. He watched in horror as they tied an old woman to an altar for their dark ends. As they drew their knives, Antreas screamed for them to stop. They thought he was a Muggle that had somehow passed through their magical shields and one of the young wizards jeered at him for being where he should not. He turned to run, but they pulled him back with their magic. He tried to scream for help, but they silenced him with their wands. They floated him high above their altar and teased him mercilessly. Finally, they lashed him next to the old woman, and on that stone table they plunged their daggers into them both."

Gabriella's jaw was set firm, her eyes awash in a mist of tears, and her breath shallow and rhythmic. For a moment Harry thought of Cedric and how he died suddenly without reason. How much more horrifying was this? How much more cruel?

"I understand," he whispered. In a flash, Gabriella spun and held his face in her right hand looking into his eyes, her own on fire. The look was frightening.

"You understand nothing!" she hissed. Realizing her own movement, she dropped her hand, crumpled into his arms, and began to sob. Some moments passed before she could speak again, the sound of the train rumbling over the tracks and the setting sun their only company.

"I have two special gifts, Harry. One handed down through the generations of my father's line -- an ability to heal. I see signs, strong signs, of the same gift in you, Harry." She tried to muster a smile as she kissed Harry on the cheek. "I have seen it... in here." She placed her hands over his heart, and then let out a long, slow breath. "My other gift was handed down through the generations of my mother's line -- an ability to sense the thoughts of others. Both my parents are far more gifted than me. I can heal simple wounds without the use of a wand, and so far have learned to sense the feelings of others. I can, for example, tell when someone is lying to me." She straightened on the bench, taking another deep breath, and wiped her face dry.

"They tried to make it look as if he'd been attacked by Muggles. Antreas' body was found on the roadside, his money gone. The papers said it was roadside bandits and Papa cursed Muggles everywhere. He bemoaned that Antreas was unable to protect himself with magic and swore to avenge his death. The happiness that imbued my father's soul was supplanted by hatred. On that day, when we returned to find Antreas dead, I not only lost my brother... I lost my father." The colour of Gabriella's dark brown skin began to fade and her face seemed almost ghostlike. She suddenly looked very ill.

"At school I heard the whisperings and some days later overheard a student mention my brother's name. I got him alone in a classroom and questioned him. He lied, of course, but his thoughts betrayed him. One-by-one, I learned their names and what they had each done. I learned the truth of their evil meeting and how each had a hand in killing my brother." Gabriella began to squeeze Harry's hand as she looked into nothingness across the carriage. "I cursed their magic; I cursed wizards of any kind."

"Honestly, Gabriella," said Harry, trying to reassure her that he understood her hatred of dark wizards and that he would always stay at her side, "I understand. I'm not going anywhere." She stared at him blankly shaking her head at his ignorance and stroking his face with her trembling hand.

"When I discovered that my father's best friend, the Headmaster, was their leader... when I discovered that he had brought the old woman to Al Bsahri for the ceremony... when I discovered that it was he who gave the word that my brother's blood should be spilt at the altar..." Gabriella began to squeeze Harry's arm. Her voice became low, speaking in barely more than a whisper, "I... I went to him, to his office surrounded by evil magic to protect him from his enemies. And though I was there to kill, he thought I was there to cry." Her dead eyes looked up at Harry. "After all, that's what girls do, isn't it?" Harry said nothing.

"The beast called my name as I passed through his door, and he opened his arms wide pulling me into a hug I had once loved and now despised. He had the nerve to apologize... to apologize for what the Muggles had done. He was my father's friend!" she screamed with hatred. "All his evil magic protected him from hexes and spells, but not these." She held out her hands and squeezed. "He tried to utter a spell, but I crushed his voice box before he had the chance. I watched his eyes roll up in his head as the fear roiled out of his mind in a final plea for mercy. 'What mercy did you show Antreas?' I spat in his face." Gabriella spat across the room, her hands in fists, white and shaking as if reliving the moment. Cold shivers plummeted down Harry's spine.

"A dark plague fell on Al Bsahri the next day, sweeping through the school. One-by-one, as the moon waned, the fifteen students that revealed their secrets to me fell dead for no reason." She swallowed hard, her face absent of expression, her breathing shallow and quick. "It wasn't me, Harry, though I wish even now it had been. Perhaps I willed them dead, or perhaps...." She sat straight, pulling herself away from Harry. "No matter... it was for Antreas."

For a moment Harry stood in horror, not sure what to do. He glanced to the door, back to Gabriella, to the door, and Gabriella. Her hands were still shaking violently. There was an overwhelming urge to leave, but a more overwhelming urge to stay. Last year, at the Ministry, he would have killed Bellatrix if he'd had it in him. Harry reached out and took her fists, bringing them down to her lap. He held her tight. There were no tears left in her eyes now and, as he held her close, the quickness of her breaths began to slow. Soon, she relaxed in his arms. Her head against his chest, she finished her story.

"Nobody knows what I did, Harry. Except maybe Mama, who seems to know everything; but she has never said a word to me. After the deaths, they closed the school. Papa wanted me to attend Beauxbatons, but I swore I'd never raise a wand again, never use my gifts again. Finally, the job at Pensley College came available and, for me, Papa put his own wand away and brought us to Little Whinging to be safe... to live as Muggles, and leave the Wizarding world behind forever. I never dreamed... why did you have to be a wizard?" She squeezed him in her arms, but then let go. Without saying a word, she kissed him gently on the cheek and turned to look out the window. There, she waited for him to leave.

Harry's mind began to spin. Did she want him to leave? He was a wizard after all and she just said she hated wizards. But then, why come here? Why now? His urge to hold her in his arms was strong, but a vigilante, a murderer? He thought of Bellatrix Lestrange and how he wished he'd been able to accomplish what Gabriella had. She had done something Harry was incapable of. But was that a good thing? Draco would think it a sign of strength, but Dumbledore would see it as a weakness. It would be a dark shadow that followed them everywhere.

Harry's mind turned to the attacks led by Voldemort. Even now, she was at risk by being with him. Once again he looked at the door, only this time he stood, his back toward Gabriella. He held the door's handle in his hand and turned to look at her one last time. Her dark black hair flowed down to her waist. "The eyes," he whispered to himself. He walked over to her, knelt on one knee and gently touched her shoulder. "Gabriella, please look at me," he asked.

She turned from the window and faced Harry. A deep sadness was set upon her face. Harry had never seen her look so weak and vulnerable. For a long while he gazed into her black eyes not saying a word and then a gentle smile broke upon his face. He had never felt her presence in his mind, but now the time had come. "Use your gift, Gabriella," he whispered. Her eyes looked into each of his, one then the other, back and forth, hesitant to proceed. "Go on," he said gently. "What does my heart say?" She took her hands in his and he felt his mind opening up. Memories flashed across his consciousness as he beckoned her forward, deeper into the emotions of his soul. There she saw it and, almost in disbelief, she dwelt. He was patient, letting her hold it in her own thoughts, in her own soul, and then she let go of his mind and looked into his eyes, a smile spreading across her own face. "I love you," he whispered. "I always have."

She reached out, wrapped her arms about his neck, and together they fell to the floor. "I love you too," she breathed, looking down on him, a glow of happiness in her very being. "I knew you were the one," she whispered.

"The one?" Harry asked. There was a thud at the door.

"Leave him alone, Ron!" Hermione said in a subdued voice from outside in the corridor.

"Something's wrong," Ron shot back. "I know it!" Hermione huffed, but Ron was undaunted. Pounding on the door, he called out, "Harry! Open this door!" Gabriella and Harry gathered themselves as Ron continued to pound. They both stood and Harry slid open the door from the inside, again only sticking his head through. There was a bit of a crowd that had gathered to see what all the yelling was about.

"Are you two done prefecting?" asked Harry sarcastically.

"Harry, I tried..." Hermione began.

"What's going on, Harry?" Ron shot off trying to see past him into the carriage. "Potter, I'm not leaving until you..." Harry slid open the door.

"We've been waiting for you guys to stop by," Harry chided. "Where have you been?" Cautiously, Ron entered the carriage followed by Hermione. "I believe you two have met already," he said to Ron. "Gabriella, you remember Ron, don't you?" Gabriella smiled taking Ron's hand gently in her own.

"Yes. You know, you look very much like your brothers, Fred and George. Fred's a bit sweet and sour though, isn't he? Where's your sister, Ginny?" Ron was dumbstruck.

"She's, er... up at the, erm..."

"Hermione," Harry cut in, "this is my girlfriend, Gabriella. I think you two will find you have a lot in common." Hermione smiled as she shook Gabriella's hand.

"I'm so glad we've finally had a chance to meet," Hermione began. "I'd like to say Harry's told us so much about you, but he's been absolutely dreadful. All we know is that you're the only person who can make him smile at school, and you're not even there." Hermione motioned to Ron to put his wand away. "Have you and Harry had enough time to talk?"

"Yes," said Gabriella, her eyes twinkling, "we've told each other quite a lot over the past few hours."

"Told him what?" Ron asked, still completely flummoxed.

"Gabriella isn't a Muggle, Ron," Harry answered. Ron seemed to take this in with a knowing expression.

"Well, that makes it a bit easier then. Don't it, mate?" Ron asked as if he'd single handedly put the whole thing together in his mind. "I mean, no more secrets and all."

"No more secrets," Harry whispered, taking Gabriella's hand in his, a gentle smile on his face. There was the briefest silence as Gabriella looked into Harry's eyes.

"So," Hermione began, "Harry did say you've just come from Lebanon. It sounds fantastic! What's it like there?" Before long, Gabriella was talking about all the good things in her home country -- the history and architecture, the markets and people, the customs and way of life. It was a tapestry of colour and joy that was her childhood, and she was eager to share it with others. After some time, the subject of the conversation became Harry. Hermione and Gabriella started laughing, sharing stories of his less memorable exploits. The laughter became a little much and Harry excused himself to go use the restroom.

Passing a carriage with an open door he found Patrick O'Riley sitting with James Chang and his sister Cho. Harry stopped and looked in.

"Hey, Harry!" said James happily. "Have a Merry Christmas!"

"Thanks, James. Erm, you too." Harry's brow furrowed as he looked at Patrick. Seeing the quizzical look, Patrick answered.

"James asked me to spend the holiday at their house," said Pat with a shining smile, and Harry smiled back.

"An amazing family, the Changs," said Harry warmly. "Truly amazing." He motioned his finger to Cho, beckoning her to join him out in the corridor. As she left the carriage, he slid the door shut and kissed her on the cheek. "And you're the most amazing of all. Thank you." Cho held Harry's shoulders, then gave him a hug.

"Everybody needs Harry Potter," she said kindly. "But does anybody ever ask what Harry needs?" She took him by the hand. "I saw it in your eyes and read it in her letter. What does anybody ever really need, Harry?" She ran her fingers through his hair and took hold of the silver earring hidden behind his locks. "She wears the same glint of silver." Reaching up to kiss his cheek, she whispered, "Merry Christmas, Harry."

Returning to her carriage, Cho slid the door shut behind her, and Harry started back down the corridor. They would be at King's Cross soon and his life had just taken a dramatic turn. For the first time in months the fear of what was to come had ebbed away. He could hear Ron, Hermione and Gabriella laughing as he drew near.

"Perhaps," he thought, "love might be enough."