Harry Potter and the Rise of the Phoenix

Chapter Twenty-five ~ Christmas and Family

* * * * * * * * * * *
There's still time.
Everything that has been
Devastated
Can be recreated,
Realized.
We pick up
the broken pieces
Of our lives
Giving ourselves
To each other
To rest our head on.

Creed ~ Who's Got My Back
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Years later, the portraits and ghosts would remark that the Christmas after Dumbledore's death was the most solemn and darkest Hogwarts had ever seen. The castle had never lacked in the normal splendor and decorations as it did that year. Even the Great Hall had been neglected, something that had never happened in the school's millennium of existence. It had never been, and would never be, so quiet on this festive day. The castle's residents spent their holiday reflecting on all that they had lost (most staying were orphaned in one of the two wars) and other such sobering thoughts. The ghosts and portraits all agreed that the darkness was complete, save one exception: the Gryffindor common room.

This common room stood out from all other places in the castle. The fire burned cheerily, the flames dancing and spreading warmth throughout the room. The occupants of the Gryffindor Tower and their guests had gone all out on the decorations: fake snow fell, everlasting icicles hung from the windowsills. Mistletoe hung in discrete corners for couples to find. Christmas trees ornamented with fairies scattered the room, holly hung in arcs around the walls. All sorts of other decorations, muggle and magical in origin, brightened the already glowing room further.

Stockings filled to bursting hung for everyone that was expected. Gifts abounded under the three evergreen trees. Laughter echoed throughout Hogwarts' deserted corridors. The ghosts and portraits all agreed as well that the majority of those celebrating in the Gryffindor common room that year were those that had been most affected by the wars.

Harry was out searching the castle for anyone moping alone or in groups. They had moved most of the patients from the infirmary to the common room. Only two were not awake and would blissfully sleep throughout the day. They had herded several students from Christmas lunch (a very gloomy affair) up to the Tower. He was going from common room to common room, begging everyone to come celebrate with his friends, family, and others. Several Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws already followed, and there was only one common room left to search. None of them knew where the Gryffindor common room was and they weren't even sure where the Pink Lady's portrait hung so they had all opted to follow him down to the dungeons.

"Bugger off," Harry said to the blank wall, wishing that Blaise had had the guts to add 'Voldemort' like he'd wanted. He entered the Slytherin common room, looking around. There were a few pitiful attempts at decorations, an ailment Harry had found all over the castle.

"Go away, Potter, I'm not going up," Blaise muttered from in front of the fire.

"Professor Snape says that if he has to suffer than so do you," the Gryffindor informed him pleasantly. "I, of course, edited a lot of very cross words out of that statement." Harry sat next to the obviously depressed teen, and glanced over at a first year sitting in a corner. He dropped his voice before continuing. "That's Montague's little sister, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Blaise nodded. "You know, their dad killed their mum earlier this year."

"I didn't know that, but I did know her dad was arrested after the battle," Harry whispered back. "She a good kid?"

"One of the best," Blaise answered with a slight smile. "She's got a head on her shoulders." Harry nodded and stood up. Walking over to the small girl, Harry could see the tell-tale signs of neglect and abuse.

"Hey," he said, sitting next to her. She looked up at him quickly before looking back at her shoes. "Come have Christmas with us," he offered, a small smile on his lips.

"That's okay," she said so quietly that Harry had to strain to hear her.

"We don't bite," he assured her, trying to get her to smile. A flicker of one passed over her face, but she quickly hid it. He put out a hand, offering to shake. "Harry Potter. What's your name? I kind of skipped this step, didn't I?"

"Ashley," she answered timidly, only glancing at his hand briefly. Harry returned it to his knee, not mentioning her shyness.

"Well, Ashley, it would make my Christmas if you come celebrate it with us," he said.

"No, thank you."

"Want to know a secret?" he asked, hoping against hope that this would get her to say more than three words.

"Sure," she responded, looking at him with an intense look. Definitely abused, he thought to himself.

"I used to live in a cupboard under the stairs," he said, keeping his tone conspiratorial.

"I don't believe you," she exclaimed, yet keeping her tone soft. She looked down timidly. "Not you."

"It's very true," he assured her. "My aunt and uncle hate me, they used to starve me and lock me in that cupboard any time I showed even a bit of magic."

"Really?" she said, looking back up at him, her gaze understanding and empathetic.

"Yes," he said with a nod. "As much as they taught me to distrust people, I only became happy once I started trusting people. My friends are some of the best around."

"I don't know," she said, her voice unsure.

"Professor Snape is there," he said, his last effort to sway her. "He is begging for Slytherin company in the horrible red and gold Gryffindor common room."

"Professor Snape wouldn't beg!" she exclaimed, her voice angry and loud. She blushed, but didn't change her position.

"Okay, so beg isn't the best of words," Harry conceded. "But complain like you wouldn't believe. As much as we all love him, it's getting old. Come give the old Slytherin some company." She looked over at Blaise who was talking with the sixth year Ravenclaw. The others were listening in to that conversation, commenting every so often. Then her gaze fell on the two Slytherins Harry suspected would become Death Eaters once out of school--if they weren't already. "Blaise and I will protect you," he said softly.

She looked at him quickly, and finding something in his eyes, she nodded. Harry smiled and offered his hand. They joined the group, Harry not letting go of her hand all the way up to the Pink Lady.

"Merry Christmas!" he told her brightly.

"Merry Christmas to you too!" she replied as she swung forward. Harry smiled; the room was filled with just about every occupant of the castle.

A few people had turned down the invitation, but the majority had come. And Harry had bought stockings for everyone; rather, he'd had Tonks and Thia go out and buy the things he asked for with his own money. The stockings not only hung from the fireplace but along the walls as well. After talking with everyone he knew, he had also gotten a small gift for everyone. Anyone that didn't show up would have a stocking and gift delivered during the night.

"Here's all I could find," Harry announced, leading Ashley in by the hand.

"He's cheating on our sister!" Fred yelled, fainting into George's waiting arms.

"You're an awful boyfriend!" George yelled.

"Shut up," Ginny hissed at them, noticing Ashley's blush and awkward stance. "My name's Ginny, and you don't know the twins, but just ignore them."

"I know of them," she muttered. "They stuffed my brother into the Vanishing Cupboard two years ago. Wish they wouldn't have found him," she finished, dying off on the end.

"A fan!" Fred exclaimed, recovering instantly. George and Fred stood, ready to be the center of entertainment, but Mrs. Weasley stopped it.

"Fred! George! Calm down!" she shouted. "No more sugar for either of you!"

"Aw, Mum!" Fred whined, George going over and hugging her.

"You wouldn't take sugar away on Christmas," he said into her ear.

"I will if you don't calm down," she told them both.

"Deal," they said together, returning to their spots next to Melita and Mina.

Harry walked over to the chair-bound Potions Master, and smiled at him. "Ashley came to save you from the mean and hyper and way-too-happy Gryffindors." The little girl blushed again.

"Come here, Ashley," Snape said in a fatherly voice. She stepped forward slowly, hesitantly, almost as if she was regretting this. Harry recognized the movement, but couldn't remember from where. Snape looked her in the eyes and asked, "Forgive me?" Ashley returned the gaze, looking years older than she was and yet so much younger. Finally, she nodded; everyone else confused about what was meant. He picked her up and placed her on his lap. Ashley hugged him, a huge smile on her face.

"Can we open gifts now?" Bill asked, trying to be as mature as possible while asking such a childish question. Everyone looked to Mrs. Weasley, the official hostess of the festivities. She nodded and everyone crowded in front of the fire, Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione searching for gifts. They handed out one round of gifts, the tag saying from Hogwarts. Everyone calmly opened the first round, but after that it was a mad rush for the trees. Mrs. Weasley seemed taken aback at first, but she ended up smiling and letting her children bring her gifts.

Harry smiled as he watched the people around him. So many of them were strangers, others were like family, but there was no difference. Today was Christmas. He continued where Dumbledore had left off. Making the holidays a reminder of why they continued to fight, despite the losses, was one of Dumbledore's greatest accomplishments every year. Hopefully, next year Hogwarts would be back to her normal splendor. It just hadn't seemed... right to decorate before Dumbledore's funeral and afterwards there had been too little time.

"What is this?" Snape asked, his voice low and dangerous. Everyone became instantly quiet; the students knew that voice as the one that preceded the loss of huge amounts of points and the assignment of several revolting detentions. A thin box was on his lap, paper tissue overflowing the sides. The Slytherin Head of House reached in and pulled out something made of leather. Ashley took it from him, stood up on his lap, and held it out. Someone had given Snape leather trousers.

Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing, though he had to admire the artwork on the garment. Framing the right front pocket was a snake's head, mouth open to swallow the pocket. Glittering dragon spikes formed the fangs. One pearly, iridescent scale was placed on top of the grey-metallic leather of the snake's head for the eye, the black spot where it had been connected to the body of the dragon acting as a pupil. The snake's thick, sinuous body wove around the waist to slither down the left leg and coil at the bottom. The tail came out of the coil, crossed over to the right leg, wove in a long triple-S-shape up the front of the right leg, the tip coming to a rest right below the head. The grey-metallic leather of the snake stood out on the dark green soft under-belly leather of the trouser proper, the smooth scales shimmering ominously.

"Fred! George!" Charlie yelled, turning on his brothers, his ears already red. "What have I told you about buying dragon leather for fashion! The black market is bad enough without you bozos buying gag gifts!"

"Come on, Charlie," Fred whined, hiding behind Mina.

"These dragons died natural deaths," George assured him.

"According to who?" Charlie asked. "DragonHide says that their dragons die natural deaths, but all that means is the animals bled to death from a wizard-inflicted wound. You wouldn't believe how many of their poachers I deal with every year." George had turned paler and paler as his brother made this statement. "It's DragonHide brand, isn't it?"

"Yeah," George mumbled.

"Do you know how many dragons had to die to make those trousers?" Charlie asked, standing up and stalking over to where Ashley still held them up. She cowered just a bit at his angry face and the hand that swung towards her, but he only pointed at the trousers.

"I'm guessing, more than one," Fred said, gulping as his brother went another shade darker, the Weasley temper and red ears shining bright.

"The green leather is from a Romanian Longhorn, you know, the dragons I work with every day," he started, stressing Romanian dangerously. "The grey is from a Ukrainian Ironbelly, another dragon I work with on a weekly basis." He was pointing at the different parts as he went, though he stopped to examine the black fangs. "These are filed down spikes from a Norwegian Ridgeback, if I had to guess. Thanks to Hagrid I work with Norbert weekly, lovely Ridgeback, I've heard some horror stories about them. And the eye scale... this is the most disgusting one. Antipodean Opaleye's have been nearly hunted to extinction because of their iridescent coloring make for popular fashions. But do you want to know why it's the most despicable?"

"Yes," George said faintly, obviously cowed by his brother's anger. "Well, no... but... you're going to tell us anyways."

"Because, to get this black spot at the end, it has to be pulled from the dragon's skin while the animal is still alive," Charlie spat, staring daggers at his younger siblings.

"Enough, Charles," Mrs. Weasley said briskly. "That's quite enough. Apologize, both of you and Charlie, apologize as well, you're quite out of line."

"Sorry," the twins chorused.

"Forgive us?" George added.

"Might as well, I can't get rid of you after all," Charlie muttered darkly. "Sorry for ranting, I just... These creatures don't deserve being hunted just for their leather."

"Well, I can get rid of them," Snape growled. "What possessed you to buy this for me?"

"Celestial inspiration," George assured him.

"Divine intervention," Fred added, his face completely straight.

"Peeves," Mina laughed out. She and Melita had met the poltergeist earlier that day and were extremely taken with the little spirit. Harry had a feeling that both Fred and George were actually threatened by the poltergeist.

"Stupidity," Melita coughed out.

"But most likely Voldemort," Fred ended. The room was completely silent for a few seconds before Harry and Ginny started to laugh at the exact same moment. They caught the other's eyes and laughed even harder, the stupidity of that statement amazing these two. "Alright, so we had a few too many butterbeers and this is what we came up with. You're really hard to shop for."

"You need not have gotten me anything," Snape countered.

"You may be a greasy git," George started, surprising Ginny and Harry quiet.

"A slimy bas-" Fred stopped and looked over at his mum. "A slimy bat."

"A sourpuss," George continued, not letting the glares from everyone stop him.

"Temperamental."

"Sadistically mean in your detention assignments."

"A Slytherin."

"Don't say that like it's a bad thing, Gryffindor," Blaise commented, but the Weasley twins just ignored him.

"A grudge holder."

"Beak-nosed."

"Extremely tough grader."

"Annoyingly uptight professor."

"And your mood swings are worse than Ginny's," Fred added, hiding, yet again, behind Mina so that Ginny couldn't hex him.

"BUT," George said, stepping behind Ginny and taking her wand. "No hexing him yet, little sis. You can have a go later, promise. As I was saying, but you are family and family is important..."

"For pranking and giving gag gifts and, well, that's not all in your box," Fred finished. "But Mum needs to open this one at the same time. Hermione gets this one." He said each of these comments while handing out the gifts. "And dearest Melissa, the one brave enough to marry our eldest brother..."

"The terror of the family," George continued. "You must open this one."

Fred stood up on his chair and directed them to open their gifts. Mrs. Weasley gasped when she saw the clock. Hermione squealed and hugged George who was the nearest twin. Melissa was hugging a stunned Bill, a few happy tears in her eyes. Snape's face was unreadable, but Harry knew him well enough to look in his eyes. They were filled with wonderment and something else, something harder to explain. Harry knew the feeling, a combination of belonging, acceptance, love, and the question 'Why?'.

"Everyone that already had a hand is on there," Fred whispered, hugging his mum. "We'll add the new ones later."

"You both are complete gits," Ron said, hitting George over the head. "Why didn't you tell the rest of us?"

"We told Ginny and she's the only one that matters," George replied. "Hermione, we know you're not technically family, but you're just as much a part of the Weasleys as Harry is. You're like the brilliant little sister we never had."

"George, Hermione stole my wand back for me," Ginny threatened, her wand poking him in the back. "Do you want to re-phrase that?"

"Not really," he said with a swallow. "You're a genius, Ginny, and genius is way better than brilliant. And Snape-"

"It's Uncle Severus," Ginny corrected, digging her wand a little bit deeper into his skin.

"And Uncle Severus is family," George added.

"No explanation needed for Mel," Bill said, his face a huge smile. "I can't believe you two thought of this."

"I didn't either," Ginny agreed. "But I assure you, they did."

"So," Fred said, standing in front of Snape with his arms spread wide, "still want to kill us?"

"Yes," Snape muttered, his face still unreadable. "But I won't. Your mother would kill me, and that would be most painful."

Fred walked over to his twin, carefully pulling Ginny's wand away from George's back. "Peace on earth, good will toward men."

"Stop quoting muggle Christmas songs to get your way. It's despicable," Ginny commanded sullenly. "I'll behave, for now."

"How come the twins' hands are the longest?" Charlie asked, looking over his mum's shoulder. "And Percy's is the shortest. You guys just had to throw in a petty thing like that."

"Yeah," George said with a shrug. "We're petty like that."

"Can't expect a complete miracle from us," Fred complained. "Just be happy we put him on there and will put the Slytherin git on there."

"Seriously, have a bit of respect for your uncle," Harry teased.

"That is respect," Fred said.

"I mean, you do know the list of names Gryffindors have come up with for him, right?" George asked.

"Yeah, I've added to it," Harry admitted. All the Gryffindors who had Snape as a teacher nodded in agreement. Harry glanced over at his ex-Head of House and smiled at her. Her brow knitted in thought, she knew he was up to something but didn't know what. "I think every Gryffindor has. I swear it's Professor McGonagall's handwriting that says 'bloody stubborn fool'." There was a protest from the witch, but the agreements from the students drowned her out. "What does that have to do with it?"

"Slytherin git is the nicest nickname we added to the list," Fred explained.

"I think we called him that after seeing him punish a Slytherin too," George said thoughtfully.

"Yeah, our seventh year, before we skipped out of this place," Fred agreed.

"Didn't we fly out?"

"Good point, before we flew out," Fred amended. "He took some points from someone on the Inquisitor's Squad. It was precious."

"The high point in our relationship with the man," George said, a smile on his face.

"Would someone explain to me just how Professor Snape, the worst of all Slytherins, is related to the Weasley twins, the worst of all Gryffindors?" Dean asked from where he sat with Blaise, Justin, and Seamus.

"Oh, that's going to be all over school once the term starts," Harry observed neutrally. "To answer your question, Professor Snape married Mrs. Weasley's younger sister."

"You mean to tell me that someone willingly married Snape," Seamus asked, unbelieving.

"I am sitting right here," Snape reminded them.

"He's not so bad," Ginny assured the disbelieving Gryffindor students, of which there were three or four besides Harry's friends. "Rather likable and decent, unless you do something stupid."

"Thank you, Ginevra," Snape said with a nod in her direction.

"You're welcome, Uncle Severus," Ginny replied, nodding her head in return.

"Do you know how odd we are?" Harry asked. "If I would go back in time to tell my first-year-self that I'd be sitting in the Gryffindor common room with Slytherins and Professor Snape celebrating Christmas, I would have laughed at myself and then had myself admitted to an insane asylum."

"Harry, what would you see now if you looked in the Mirror of Erised?" Ron asked suddenly. A few people were lost, but Harry remembered back to that first Christmas holiday and how much that mirror had distracted him.

"I'm not sure," he replied after a few long minutes of thought. "I mean, I got the family I wanted. Not my biological one, of course, but as near as I can get to one. I wonder what Dumbledore did with that mirror."

"That brings up the whole issue of the man's Will," Snape commented. "We'll have to read that soon."

"Let's enjoy the holiday without talking business," McGonagall scolded. Snape nodded, they had all agreed not to talk about the war. Harry, however, wasn't paying much attention and didn't know that the headmistress was waiting for his agreement. Something was on the edge of his mind. Something he was trying to remember.

"My parents' Will," he mumbled, smacking his forehead, surprising those who weren't paying attention to this conversation. "I'd completely forgotten about that."

"That's right, we were going to take a look at that over the Holiday break, weren't we?" Remus asked, receiving a nod in return. "I'm sure we can get something arranged."

"Is that safe?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

"As safe as it will ever be," Thia answered. "I'm sure we can get Harry in and out of Gringotts safely."

"What's happening with Sirius' death?" Hermione asked. Some of the adults frowned.

"There's been another delay," Thia spat. "The Minster has been pushing it as much as she can, as have a lot of others, but there's only so much we can do. The war takes up so much time that clearing Sirius has become a low priority."

"I wish there was something I could do," Harry said, remembering how hopeful they all had been when this first came out.

"Enough of this," Mrs. Weasley said kindly but firmly. "If we must talk about Sirius or anyone dead, then let's tell stories. Don't focus on the unfairness of it all."

"Fair enough," Thia agreed. "A story, huh?" She looked at Remus.

"I've got one," he finally said. "It would have been our fourth year, right before Christmas break. Sirius had gotten Sam and Lily with a prank in November. Wasn't it right after the Slytherin/Gryffindor Quidditch game?"

"I'm not sure what prank you're talking about yet," Thia replied.

"The one where he hexed them so that everything they said came out in Opera," Remus explained.

"Yes, the weekend after," Thia laughed out loud. "Those two were teasing Sirius because he'd been in the hospital wing all week for head trauma. I believe Severus got credit for that." Snape nodded, a slight smile on his lips.

"The two girls were furious, because everything they said was not only in Opera but also love songs, Sam to Peter and Lily to James," Remus continued. "They waited for the perfect time to get Sirius back, letting him stew. The week before break we had three or four exams. The girls managed to get a hold of Sirius' ink and quills and Lily charmed them. Sam added a nice bit of an illusionment spell to them. Sirius saw a perfectly written essay, the teachers saw a very graphic romantic essay. I think he ended up with a month's worth of detentions for that one."

"The girls were never caught?" Ginny asked, intrigued.

"They bragged about it to us all the time," Remus said, rolling his eyes, laughing.

"All Sirius had to do was tell a teacher, and they would have admitted to it," Thia continued. "But Sirius would never admit that they had gotten the upper hand. He'd rather take the punishment, than to admit that. No one, until the start of sixth year, successfully pranked Sirius publicly. He would deny anyone saying otherwise."

"What happened sixth year?" Melita asked once she realized that Thia wasn't going to elaborate. Remus and Thia exchanged quick glances, but that's all it took to get them to break down in a fit of laughter. Harry noted that even Snape was smiling, and for Snape to smile over a memory involving Sirius meant one of two things: it was extremely painful or extremely humiliating for Sirius. Snape preferred both.

"Let's just say Sam was furious with Black and me that fall," Snape started to say. "We both lived in fear of her wrath, and her revenge proved that fear justified. Every time someone said the word 'the' we had to dance a short jig. The spell lasted a whole day from one sunrise to the next."

"You have no idea how often the word 'the' is said," Thia managed to get out. "Once the other Marauders figured out what was going on, it seemed like James was trying to see how many the's he could get into one sentence and still be grammatically correct."

"Are you kidding, he hung grammar quite quickly," Remus exclaimed through his laughter. "Not in class, mind you, but outside it. All the way to the Entrance Hall for lunch, James had sung 'the, the, the, the, the, the'," Remus sung it to the tune of "na-na-na-na-naa-na."

"Why was he being so mean to Uncle?" Ginny asked, indigent on behalf of her relative.

"Oh, he wasn't doing it around me," Snape assured her. "Too busy trying to get on Lily's good side. He was doing it to Black."

"Sirius hated dancing," Remus explained. "For all his 'coolness' he couldn't dance worth anything and watching that jig had to be the funniest thing we had ever seen. Sirius was more than willing to admit that Sam was the one who had pranked him. That was the greatest prank ever thought of."

"Be right back," Harry said, excusing himself from the group and heading towards the loo. On his way back, he heard something in his room. He peeked in and saw Ginny rummaging through his trunk.

"Looking for something?" he asked, pushing the door wide open and leaning against the frame.

"No, just putting this in there," she said, holding the notebook out toward him. "I've had it for a week and I didn't realize it'd been that long." Harry moved forward, walking toward her slowly. Grabbing the book, he tossed it onto his bed and wrapped his arms around Ginny.

"Merry Christmas," he whispered, breathing in the soft strawberry smell of her hair.

"Merry Christmas," she replied, resting her head against his heart.

He ran one of his hands through her hair, bringing it to her neck. He unclasped the necklace (one-handed at that!) and took the ring off the chain. He looked at it thoughtfully and then at Ginny. "I want you to promise me something. You're going to let me marry you someday. We're going to live through this ordeal, we're going to get married, and we're going to have loads of kids. Deal?"

"Deal," she agreed with a smile. "The catch?"

"Wear this," he answered, holding the ring up. She nodded and Harry lifted her left hand up to his lips before slipping it on. "A true promise ring now, isn't it?"

"Seems that way," she agreed. "This Christmas isn't as bad as I thought it was going to be."

"It's all about how much you try," he told her. He nodded towards the bed, "Do I want to read that now or wait until later?"

"Later," she answered, pulling his lips down to meet hers. Several minutes later a loud throat clearing startled them.

"That's my sister you're kissing, Potter," Percy commented politely from the doorway, leaning against the frame just like Harry had minutes before.

"I know," Harry countered. "Got a problem with that?"

"Not really," he said with a shrug. "The twins sent me up here to check up on you. Said something about an initiation."

"They've all walked in on us," Ginny explained. "They probably think it isn't fair that you haven't been so similarly scarred."

"Could be," Percy said with a nod. "Come back down, they said something about it almost being 3 o'clock. And Charlie's going to sing some Romanian carols for us."

"Cool," Ginny exclaimed. Ginny was positive that she was going to win the chocolate frog bet. "We'll be right down." Percy nodded and left. "Is it just me or is Charlie upset about something?"

"He looks very moody when he thinks no one's looking," Harry agreed, tucking a loose bit of Ginny's ginger hair behind her ear. "Probably distracted with your dad's absence."

"Probably," Ginny echoed. They hurried down the stairs, ignoring the whistles from the twins, Seamus, and Dean.

"So, everyone have their cards?" Ron asked, taking charge of the bet.

"Wait, I have one more frog and one more minute!" Tonks called out with a laugh. She tore into the poor chocolate frog, ignoring it as it started to jump away. "Bummer! It's only Agrippa!"

"Okay, it's 3:01 now, so no more frogs," Ron commanded. "Professor Snape has been volunteered to count."

"I did no such thing," Snape replied.

"I didn't say you volunteered, I said you were volunteered," Ron replied with a grin. "We all decided you'd be the fairest judge. So, everyone, hand your carefully marked boxes to him and step back to let him count."

"I am not counting those cards," Snape reiterated. Ginny, Ron, the twins, Harry, and Tonks all ignored his complaints. They placed their boxes on his lap and stepped back with cheeky grins on their faces, begging him to try and get out of it. "I think it's quite pathetic that so many Harry Potter chocolate frog cards are resting on my lap. And that is saying nothing about the fact that a Harry Potter chocolate frog card even exists."

"Two versions to boot!" Thia said, placing her box on his lap as well.

"Oh, Severus, thaw out a bit," McGonagall remarked, her exasperation with the younger wizard written all over her face. "I know you know inventory charms, so just use a counting one, and get it over with. No point in dragging this out more than needs be."

"If I didn't know better," Molly said slowly, "I'd think you're enjoying this."

Snape glared up at her, but this only caused everyone to laugh. "Line them up on the floor. Hurry up! I don't have all day!" Everyone involved with the bet placed their box of chocolate frog cards in a row. Thia, Tonks, Remus, Shacklebolt, Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, Lee Jordan, Katie Bell (who had arrived while Harry and Ginny had been upstairs just for this), Dean, Seamus, Harry, Ginny, Blaise, Sephra, and Neville all stood waiting with held breath to see who had won the eighty galleon prize. Numbers hovered over the boxes after Snape cast the counting spell on them. On average, most people had about fifty cards with one or two exceptions.

"A hundred and eleven, Potter," Snape drawled. "A bit conceited?"

"Just a bit, sir," Harry replied. "Even signed them all."

"Would you sign my cards, Harry?" Ginny asked bating her eyes playfully at him.

"Any time you want, Gin," Harry said playfully. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, kissing the top of her head.

"Eugh! Get a room!" Fred cried out, a painful expression on his face.

"Two hundred sixty-six," Hermione said softly, bringing everyone's attention back to the numbers floating above the boxes. "Where'd you get that many cards, Neville?"

"Great-uncle Algie works for the company," Neville said with a shrug. "I asked him if I could get a few, and he obliged."

"Cheater!" Blaise exclaimed.

"Not really," Ron said calming the others down instantly. He tossed Neville the bag of gold. "We didn't say how you had to get the cards. They just couldn't be counterfeit."

"You asked for two hundred sixty-six cards?" Harry asked surprised. "Did you really think you'd need that many?"

"I had a hundred eleven already," Neville said with a smile. "My uncle sent me a hundred fifty-five, not the fifty-five I asked for."

After that, Charlie sung several Christmas songs for them, and then they joined in on a few English ones. Harry couldn't remember singing like this before, everyone singing as loud as they could, smiling brightly from ear-to-ear, and forgetting all their worries. This Christmas was shaping out to be one of the best he'd ever had.

Supper was held later that evening in the Great Hall, the feeling of joy and contentment seeping from them as they entered the undecorated room. The group sat at two tables, barely filling them. They separated, adults sitting with other adults, the students with other members of their houses. Harry could almost feel the castle's disappointment. After that, most students went to their own common rooms, with a few exceptions. Blaise went up to the Infirmary. Ashley Montague accompanied Professor Snape to the Gryffindor common room. Justin, Dean, and Seamus snuck off to raid the kitchen, even after the small feast they had just eaten. Most of the teachers went to their private rooms to have a quiet evening.

Harry found the evening to be peaceful after the afternoon's celebrations. People he considered close family and friends made up the group: the Weasleys, the Grangers, Thia, Remus, Tonks, and Professors McGonagall and Snape. The exuberance was not the same as before, but it was still a pleasant evening. It was very settling after the week everyone had had, that was for sure.

Yes, the ghosts and portraits were right: Hogwarts had never been so stiflingly gloomy on Christmas Day and would only come near this feeling a hundred years or so from this year. Yet those who had been in the Gryffindor common room that day, young and old alike, would remember this Christmas with fondness, many believing it was their happiest Christmas ever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry watched in horror as Voldemort took his anger out on every single one of his Death Eaters in attendance. He irrationally blamed them for everything that had gone wrong. Watching as Voldemort punished Bellatrix harsher than the others, Harry felt sorry for her. It surprised him, feeling sorry for the person directly responsible for Sirius' death, but no one should be treated that way.

"You're a complete and utter imbecile!" he said softly, but the softness of his voice did not hide the anger that flowed from Voldemort to Bellatrix through the Cruciatus curse. "Goading the traitor until he retaliates by destroying your wand arm! How will you be of use to me now?" The monster removed the curse and watched as Bellatrix struggled to deal with the after-affects. "Why did you abandon Avery? He could have been of service to me! But he can't now because you let them capture him and ship him off to Azkaban! Loyalty! I want you not only to be loyal to me but to all my servants!

"That goes for you all!" he screamed, making the others jump in surprise. "I can only be successful if you help one another," he continued, his voice silky and dangerously calm. "Do not desert your brethren to save your own skin! Where were you when Macnair needed help with the prisoner? He paid for his mistake with his life. Your failure at capturing Hogwarts when the castle was weak has cost me many in deaths and arrests. How should you all be punished? I cannot afford to kill you." He stood from his throne and paced through the prostrated forms of the Death Eaters. Harry could see them shaking, their fear complete.

"This will take careful planning," Voldemort finally said. "Leave!" There was a mad rush for the doors and holes in the wall where the stones had fallen. As soon as a Death Eater crossed through the wall and was outside, he disapparated away. Harry made a mental note of that; there must be anti-apparation wards on the building itself, but not the grounds around it.

Voldemort stalked up to his throne, and threw himself on it. He sulked there, moodily blasting panes out of the stained glass. There was a rustling sound, and Voldemort turned to look at Nagini sliding around the throne. "Come here," Voldemort hissed, and the large snake twined her way up to rest her head on the back of the chair.

"What do I do now?" was the simple question Voldemort posed, but he, Nagini, and Harry all knew the answer was not as simple. Harry carefully pulled himself out of Voldemort's mind before the monster realized he had heard the query.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry pulled his curtains open and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He sat there for a bit, his body readjusting to a Death Eater free Hogwarts and the coolness of the room compared to inside the curtains. He shivered, rubbing at the old scar in irritation.

"Nightmare?" Ron's concerned voice called across the room. Harry nodded, getting up to stand next to the fire in the middle of the room. He stirred the embers into full life carefully and turned to face his best mate.

"Yeah, a vision," he explained. "Voldemort is not happy."

"I hope he killed a lot of Death Eater's," Dean muttered darkly.

"No, not angry, 'not happy' as in depressed," Harry explained more fully. "I think he expected the war to be over, or at least, tilted heavily in his favor. I'm sure he expected Hogwarts to fall and many to give up."

"Hope he kills himself then," Dean replied.

"If anyone kills him, it'll be me," Harry responded heavily, returning to his bed to sit. "Just like if anyone will kill me, it'll be him. Wonderful how that works, isn't it?"

"Not really," Neville answered. "I think it's asking too much from you, from anyone really. It's dead unfair."

"Life isn't fair," Harry said with a shrug. "Life sucks and then you die."

"Do you really believe that?" Seamus asked, surprised.

"Did I wake you all up?" Harry asked in return, not to side-track the conversation, but just to satisfy his curiosity and complete the guilt process.

"You only screamed once," Ron said sympathetically.

"Sorry," he apologized. "And no, I don't really believe that. There're times that are great and there are times that are bad. But on the whole, my life doesn't suck, though someone else's might." The others nodded, and Harry got the distinct impression that they were letting go of a held breath. When were they going to forgive him for trying to kill himself? When were they not going to be so concerned when his bitter and morbid sense of humor reared its ugly head? Probably never, and he was going to have to get used to it. Just one of the many consequences.

"Ron, weren't you going to give Hermione the engagement ring?" Neville asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Yeah, but... I couldn't find a good time for it, you know?" Ron responded, and the others nodded in understanding. Sure, none of them were thinking of getting married as seriously as Ron was, but they all knew how hard it was to ask a girl on a date. And marriage was only a really long date. A really, really long date. "And Charlie's whole plan on asking his girlfriend was a complete bomb."

"Why?" Harry asked; he hadn't heard anything about this.

"I heard him talking to Mum about it," Ron answered. "She's been cheating on him for months, while he's been here in England, with his best mate from Hogwarts who works as an aide to the ambassador to Romania. She found out she was pregnant and there's no way it's Charlie's kid."

"No wonder Charlie was so down today," Harry responded thoughtfully. "And Gin and I thought it was just your dad's absence."

"It was a combination of a lot of things really," Ron added. "Charlie's had a rough year."

"I'm going back to sleep," Dean announced through a yawn.

"Me too," Neville seconded, yawning. "You had to start it, didn't you?" Dean nodded and then pulled his curtains closed.

"Me three," Seamus said with a yawning smile. "Keep the talk down."

"No, I think I'm going to sleep as well," Ron replied. "You going to be alright, Harry?"

"Yeah, don't worry about me," he said with a smile, grabbing a bottle of ink, the notebook, and a quill. "I need to write a letter anyway. 'Night." He pulled his curtains shut and lit his wand so that he could see the pages.

Gin,

It's way too early, but I'm not going to be able to stop thinking for a while. I just woke up from a vision and... Voldemort is stumped.

Harry stopped writing and looked at that last sentence. Not only had they figured out a way to defeat Voldemort (kind of, a realistic voice said in the back of his mind) but Voldemort was stumped. That was a strange thought. Voldemort always seemed to be in charge of the war.

I hope we can keep this advantage. Voldemort doesn't know what to do, and if we can keep him unsure of himself, we'll have a good chance of keeping Death Eater attacks down. I'm afraid that if we back him into a corner he'll become even more vicious. But enough of that.

I found out why Charlie is so upset. Ron said that Charlie's girlfriend has been cheating on him while he's been here. And I guess he was going to ask her to marry him when he was down in Romania the past week. Poor guy. So glad I've got such a great girlfriend. Maybe you'll be able to help Charlie out. I'm not sure how... but you're better at that kind of stuff than me.

Hey, later this week, you want to go to our spot for dinner? I'm pretty sure I owe you a romantic dinner. And I haven't been to our spot for months. I'm missing it and going alone seems wrong. I think dress robes should be required as well. Any excuse to see you looking so beautiful is fine by me.

Harry stopped writing, thinking about the last time he and Ginny had been on a real date. That birthday date had gone about as wrong as possible. Sure the start was great, but he only thought about the end when thinking of it and he knew Ginny did as well. Hopefully this time around would not end with Ginny running to the common room crying. There was a loud snore from Ron's bed and Harry smiled, chuckling to himself. That reminded Harry of something else.

Ron, I, and some other guys were wondering if you and a team of girls wanted to play Quidditch some time next week? Battle of the Sexes... Settle the age old question... Have some fun... Get Blaise and Sephra (maybe) out of the hospital wing... Why am I bothering with all this? Of course you'll want to play a game of Quidditch. I'm sure you'll get a team together in seconds. Adults or students, doesn't matter.

Well, Merry Christmas!
Love you much,
Harry

Harry shut the notebook and decided that he was going to go send it now. He knew there was really no reason to make Hedwig deliver it, but Harry felt the need for a walk. He changed into some warmer clothes, threw on his cloak, and left the dorm room. The walk there was cold and lonely, but it helped clear his mind.

Luckily Hedwig was perched on a rafter, looking down at him, not out hunting as he had started to fear. She flew down to land on his outstretched arm. Harry ran a hand over her plumage smoothing it. He stood like that for a while, looking out from one of the many windows. Hogwarts lay silent under a fresh coat of snow. Christmas had been much better than even he had expected. Something deep within Harry told him that next Christmas would not be held in the middle of a war. The war was coming to an end, Voldemort was not going to enjoy the corner he was in and would force the final confrontation. The sun rose, the light painting the snowy landscape in soft pinks and oranges. He needed to get back to the dorm so that he could get some sleep.

"Here, girl, will you deliver this to Ginny?" he asked, tying it so that she could carry it in her beak. "You can wait for morning if you want." Hedwig nipped his ear playfully and grabbed the notebook. Harry watched her fly from the Owlery, gliding gracefully toward Gryffindor Tower. He yawned, his tired body finally dragging his mind down with it.

The walk back to the Tower took much longer than normal; Harry's sleep deprived mind working slowly and actually getting him lost a few times. This time, though, Harry had no idea where he was. He thought he had actually fallen asleep and walked to a part of the castle he didn't know. Turning around slowly, he tried to get a feeling for what part of the castle he was in.

"Lost?" Remus' amused voice asked from a door.

"Completely," Harry replied, walking towards the man. "Where are we?"

"The guest quarters," the werewolf answered. "This is the room I've been staying in all year. Molly is in that one there, the Grangers in that one, and Melissa's in that one," he said pointing to each room in the hallway. "I'm surprised you found this, students normally can't."

"I was out for a walk and fell asleep," Harry answered. "What are you doing up?"

"Well, seeing that I am completely healed and it was Christmas, Poppy let me out. Otherwise, I'm always up at sunrise," Remus replied. "I needed to talk to you anyway, so I'll lead you back to the common room. How's that sound?"

"Good to me," Harry said, following Remus back down the corridor. "What did you need to talk to me about?"

"Your inheritance," he answered. "Thia, Minerva, and I agreed that just you and I will go to Gringotts on Wednesday. Bill is arranging for a confidential meeting, and only he and the goblin we'll meet with will know when and where. Aurors are already posted there, so we aren't going to have a guard."

"Why not?" Harry asked, surprised by the change to the normal routine.

"We don't want what happened in August," was the simple reply. "A guard draws attention to you, so we're just going to skip it this time. You can handle yourself well enough not to need one with the Aurors stationed there."

"That a compliment?"

"Coming from Moody, it most definitely is," Remus said with a laugh.

"Wait, from Moody? I thought just you, Thia, and Professor McGonagall talked about this," Harry asked, his confusion filtering into his voice.

"He said it awhile ago, when it came up at the start of the month," Remus answered. "Dumbledore talked with the Order about it."

"Oh." Harry remained quiet, wondering why they had been talking about it.

"Dumbledore wanted everyone to know that he believed in your abilities," Remus said, filling the awkward silence. "As long as you were going to an area with Aurors stationed there, he thought you didn't need a 'baby-sitter' and Moody agreed."

"Then why are you coming?" Harry asked quickly, but winced when he realized how rude it sounded. "I mean, I don't mind, I appreciate the help and advice and second pair of eyes and..."

"Harry, I understood," Remus interrupted, stopping Harry's apology. "That's why I'm coming, just to give you advice and anything else you may need. And to take you to number 7, Greystone Avenue. That's where your grandparents lived and where your dad grew up. You'll side-along-apparate there. If we have time, we might go to Godric's Hollow. But, we'll have to see. Here we are, you should go inside and sleep." Harry looked up at the Fat Lady, surprised. He hadn't realized they had arrived already.

"Thanks," he said, nodding good bye to Remus. Remus turned and walked down the stairs that led to the Great Hall. "Merry Christmas," he said to the Fat Lady. She promptly opened up, not even waking up enough to reply.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Heavy drapes blocked all light from the outside world. A thick layer of dust covered the furniture and paintings, a protection charm between the two. The air was stale and thick. Number 7, Greystone Avenue had not been entered for twenty-one years, and now, finally, the last Potter entered the ancestral home.

"You mind if I open the drapes?" Remus asked, startling Harry out of his thoughts.

"No, go ahead." Harry started walking around, spelling the dust away. Remus pulled back the drapes and the sudden light woke up several of the portraits. A family portrait over the fireplace caught Harry's eyes. An older woman had an arm thrown over her face, a man about the same age was looking at Harry as if he was seeing a ghost, and the young teenager...

"Hey, that kid looks like me!"

"Hey, James," Remus said from the last window. "Mr. and Mrs. Potter."

"What happened to you, Moony?" the portrait James asked.

"Grew up and grew old," Remus replied with a laugh. "I'd like to introduce you to Harry."

"Lily had planned on naming our firstborn son that," James threw out, and then shut his mouth quickly in shock.

"What's happened since James closed this place down?" Harry's Grandfather asked.

Harry exchanged an uncomfortable glance with Remus. How to explain?

"He shut this place up the same summer he got married, right?" Remus asked. The three Potters in the portrait nodded. "A lot," Remus continued. "Sirius and Thia got married three years later."

"No way! Not Padfoot!" James exclaimed, surprised.

"The one and only," Remus replied with a laugh.

"So... you and Padfoot are brothers-in-law!" James shouted, causing his mum to place a hand over his mouth. She glared at him and then released him. "Sorry, Mum. That isn't very fair, Moony."

"Well, you didn't need any of that, you were already brothers," Remus replied, a reminiscing smile on his lips. He took a deep breath and then started to quickly list off the rest of the explanation, hoping that James wouldn't stop him. "Harry was born July 31 a year later. Voldemort killed you and Lily a year later on Halloween and promptly disappeared after. Peter framed Sirius and Sirius was sent to Azkaban. Thia lost their child and went undercover. The Ministry told me she was dead. Dumbledore placed Harry in Lily's sister's care. I formed a band. Harry grew up. He became a Gryffindor. Best friends with Sam's oldest sister's youngest son. Voldemort came back three years ago. Oh, Sam and her kids died before Sirius and Thia got married. Harry's now a seventh year, Head Boy, and..." Remus trailed off, looking over at Harry.

"Has the fate of the wizarding world on his shoulders," Harry finished with a rueful laugh. The three in the portrait had nearly identical looks of shock and surprise on their faces. "Questions?"

"Tons, but why don't you go explore the house and we'll grill Moony," James said with a soft voice. "Wow, I was actually a dad. Who'd have guessed?"

Harry left with a smile on his lips as he listened to Remus tease his dad. He took the stairs of the three story house and got off on the top floor. Remus had informed Harry that James' and later Sirius's room as well was on the top most floor.

Pushing open the first door, Harry found a bathroom. It was done in blues and reds and had a cute little dragon border running around the wall about half way up. Two toothbrushes sat forgotten in a cup, along with a razor and soap on the counter. Harry had the feeling that his grandma had cleaned up after the last visit from Sirius and James. He closed the door behind him and entered the only other door on the floor.

It was like going back in time. Posters from Quidditch teams twenty-five years or more gone littered the walls. Gryffindor pennants decorated several of the walls, including a really nice sketch of one of the Quidditch teams. Harry found James, Sirius, and Lily among the faces. They looked to be about fourteen. A really old poster of a rock group called 'Dungbombs and Curses' covered the door to the closet. Auror posters hung near both beds, the Aurors looking particularly heroic, wands raised, and the bad guys all tied up in a corner. One section of the wall near what must have been James' bed was devoted to... well, a 'Lily Evans Shrine' as the sign in Sirius' handwriting proclaimed. Someone had crossed out Evans and changed it to Potter. The handwriting looked remarkably like Thia's. Some pictures were missing, if the faded wall paper was to be believed. Pictures of girls with their arms around Sirius filled the same section near what must have been Sirius's bed. Harry's dad had deemed that 'Sirius' Love Vault' and Harry had to laugh at some of the pictures.

Bookshelves held a few books, but the bowed shelves showed that many books were also missing. Pictures of the Marauders sat on the shelves. A few medals sat on an empty shelf, the quaffle and broom engraved on them informing Harry that they were awarded for winning the Quidditch Cup at Hogwarts. A Head Boy badge rested there as well along side a dormant snitch. Several figurines of magical animals decorated one of the shelves. They started prowling, flying, and crawling once he touched them.

A worn out Quidditch set sat in a corner, a Gryffindor Quidditch uniform folded on top of it. Two old brooms stood up behind them, in immaculate condition. A table near by held a large aquarium. Another table stood between the two beds and under the window held two other tanks, one set up for some desert animal, and the other it seemed for something that lived both under water and on land. A toy chest was at the end of James' bed; Harry opened the chest to see all the toys inside. A toy broomstick tried to escape, but Harry was able to shut the chest before it got out.

A couch and chairs filled another corner near another window. Old Quidditch magazines were stacked neatly on the low table they surrounded. A transfiguration magazine caught Harry's eye, and it looked almost out of place. He picked it up and realized that his dad had earmarked several pages concerning interesting Transfiguration hexes. Several new hexes were written in the margins, based on the completely harmless spells written about in the articles.

"Ah, Sirius and James' inspiration," Remus said from the door. Harry turned to look at him questioningly. "Those two used perfectly harmless and educational information to further their dastardly plans."

"This looks like your handwriting here," Harry said, pointing to a particular section of writing.

"Forged," Remus said with a smile that betrayed his guilt. "Wow, Mrs. Potter sure cleaned this room after Sirius and James crashed in it before your parents' wedding. I wouldn't have thought they'd have time."

"How'd they die?"

"Same way my parents and yours did," Remus said, sinking onto the couch. "They spoke up against Voldemort. Your grandparents threw their weight in behind the Order and Auror program... funded a lot of the war, they did. If you haven't guess from all the goblin was saying earlier, your grandparents were actually worth more than the Malfoys. You, personally, are now worth more than even the Blacks at their height. Amazing what interest will do to a fortune if left alone for long periods of time."

"I don't want it," Harry muttered.

"Than use it like your parents and grandparents did," the werewolf counseled. "Fund things you believe in. Give it away to charities. Just make sure you don't bankrupt yourself. You never know when the money may come in handy."

"When did my grandparents die?"

"Late the August after your parents married," Remus replied softly. "James, Sirius, Thia, and Sam had all joined the Auror Academy by then, though Sam was stuck with theory classes only, poor gal. Your mum had an apprenticeship with Nettle at St. Mungo's. Both your parents were still in the 'honeymoon' stage... annoyingly so. It was an abrupt reminder of the war. We had almost forgotten about it that summer. High off our freedom, you could say."

"You worked for the Order, right?"

"Right." Remus stood and started looking around the room. "Your dad had all sorts of animals. He had a huge tarantula in this tank and a turtle in this one. His aquarium... well... let's just say, you're dad was just about as bad as Hagrid is with illegal breeding. He'd get Hagrid to care for most of his animals on the short holidays and, during summer holiday, Hagrid would bring them from Hogwarts to here and then back again. It was awful."

"Why'd they leave the Quidditch equipment here?" Harry asked, nodding at the corner where the equipment was.

"Lily got your dad a new set for his birthday that May," Remus said with a sad smile. "And your grandparents bought James and Sirius a set of brooms for the holidays so that they could leave their regular brooms at school. Peter and I had a broom each as well, though we had to floo to their summer house to fly."

"I noticed the muggle neighborhood out there," Harry said, going to stand by a window. "I was wondering about that."

"There are some nifty wards on this place," Remus explained. "They give all sorts of warnings like when a muggle is on the property, all the portraits freeze and several of the wards activate invisibility charms for obviously magical stuff. It was always fun to watch the wards get tripped by a muggle kid trying to retrieve a ball from the front yard."

Harry watched the Muggle children start a snowball fight in the street. The house was on the outskirts of a large town. The houses had spacious yards surrounding them, high walls or fences separating them from their neighbors' yards. The Potter house was on top of a soft rise and had the added security that provided from prying eyes. Looking in the yard of his two neighbors Harry was surprised to see that they were magical.

"Oh, all the houses on this side of the street are magical," Remus answered Harry's unasked question. "I think the Malfoys actually own one of the houses. Every pureblood family has a 'town house', the Malfoys live in their country manor because of its seclusion from Muggles. Your grandparents couldn't have cared less, and lived here and interacted with their neighbors often."

"My dad was a rich snob, wasn't he?"

"Not as bad as, say, Draco is--was--but he was to some extent," Remus answered slowly. "He came from money, and was a miracle baby. Your grandparents had given up hope for children and then James came along. So, yes, both he and Sirius were spoiled brats, but they got over it. Sirius got himself disowned, and James wanted Lily."

They fell silent, Remus looking at the old photographs from his days at Hogwarts. Harry picked up a few scrapbooks filled with even more pictures. "Where'd all these pictures come from?"

"Peter was into photography," Remus answered absentmindedly. "He always had a camera and was annoying about it. By seventh year we were used to it, but in a lot of the early pictures, I'm covering my face. Thia, Lily, and Sam had to get used to it, once the two groups kind of meshed. There are some good ones in one of those scrap books."

Harry started to leaf through the scrapbooks. His parents and their friends looked so young, so happy, so alive. How different this second war was affecting the students at Hogwarts. It amazed Harry. Did these smiling faces realize just what lay in front of them? No, they could not have. Just like Harry and his generation didn't. What to do about that? Live life and pretend the war doesn't exist so that their last year at Hogwarts didn't disappear, and yet immerse themselves in the war discussion so that they were prepared for what was coming. Seemed like an impossible task, but Harry was going to try.

He looked over at Remus, who was staring at the pictures in "Sirius' Love Vault", a smile on his lips. The last of his father's friends, his sister the last of his mum's. How did the Lupins get so lucky and yet so unlucky? Harry didn't even want to imagine life without Ginny, Hermione, Ron, Neville, Blaise, Sephra, Justin, Susan, Hannah, and all the others. Some how, being the last had to be the worst punishment. Having to say goodbye, one by one, to each friend. Harry hoped it would be years, many long years, before the last of their group stood alone. He hoped saying goodbye to the first of the group was many years coming. He knew the hope was unrealistic, but he hoped for it nonetheless.

What had Remus thought, standing next to Sam's funeral pyre with the others, standing alone next to his parents' pyres, next to Peter's empty pyre, and later next to Thia's equally empty pyre? How did he manage to pull through that without going insane? Remus was an amazing man, a strong man, and a good friend.

"Remus, what happened to my parents' bodies?" he asked suddenly.

"They were burnt at a public funeral, the ashes spread over the Meadow of the Dead, as is tradition," Remus replied, his voice hollow and his eyes far away. Harry knew he was reliving the awful days after that fateful Halloween.

"Can you take me to their tombstones?"

"Never thought you'd ask," Remus replied, standing from the bed wearily. "My back isn't what it used to be. Come on, this place is fine. I searched the rest of the house. We'll shut the drapes and leave everything the way it is."

"Yeah, sounds like a plan."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lily Natalie Potter
Dec. 24, 1957-Oct. 31, 1981
Goddess of Flora
"Laugh, love, learn.
The three L's and I live by them all.
Hey wait, another L-word!"
-Lily Potter
We will miss you, Lily.
Later.

James Isaac Potter
May 7, 1958-Oct. 31, 1981
Prongs
"I'll marry her, I swear!"
"Told you I would!"
-James Potter
Why'd we ever doubt?
Enjoy eternity with her, James!
See you later.

Harry stared at the tombstones, his fingers tracing their names. He had never thought to ask for their birthdays, their middle names... never asked to see their tombstones until today. They were a huge part of his life and yet he knew very little about them. A story here or a comparison there and that was about it.

He sat in between the two stones, the eternally blooming wild flowers waving in the breeze, snowflakes dancing about the ground. A large weeping willow was nearby, its bare limbs the only plant without life. Remus moved away to two stones far from the Potters'. Harry had a feeling that Remus was visiting his own parents.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, but Remus walked back to stand near him, waiting. Harry hadn't been thinking about anything in particular. He let his mind wander, wondering what his parents would think of him at this moment. Standing at the edge of a battle that would either kill him or make him a murderer. Life was cruel. He was changing and he hoped he would like the man that came out of this.

He stood and placed a hand on each stone. "Goodbye," he said softly, the words taken from him by the wind. "Thank you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Notes:

Well, 24 isn't up yet, but, hopefully it will be soon... well, soon for me, most likely in the past for you... very frustrating....

So, whatcha think? Christmas time is always a good time for healing... especially if handled rightly... someone commented that I slowed the story down with it after the "rushed" feeling of 23 and 24... all I can say is, "that's what christmas does" no matter how rushed you are 'bout preparations, Christmas is always a slow and lazy day...

Hope you all love Number 7, Greystone Avenue. Since Jeep the Stalker General asked for an inheritance scene, this place has been brewing in my mind... especially James' and Sirius' room... It's a room that held a lot of laughs, that's for sure... I know JKR said both James' and Lily's parents died of natural boring deaths in cannon, but that was long after (or at least I heard about it long after) I decided that they wouldn't... Seeing that cannon hasn't said anything I feel free to ignore it guilt-free. As Remus mentioned in passing, there was a summer home, and no, it wasn't the cottage in Godric's Hollow...

Want to thank the straggler reviewers of 23 (Seeing that there aren't any new 24 reviewers *glares at schnoogle*)! My hearty thanks goes out to: 777777, Shadow_Niddyz, Sssith, im27yetagain321, WaterBug, and mouchardchercheur!!!

If you want my dignity in trade for a review, you can have it... I'll beg shamelessly and not feel an ounce embarrassed for it!

Now, shouldn't forget... Lily's middle name... Natalie... my number uno beta DFGH (Devoted Fan and Godess of the Harvest... that's why we shortened it...) daughter had a little girl only a week after I finished up with 25... ironically, I had picked Natalie for the middle name before finding out that the little one's name was Natalie as well... so, though it was a complete co-inky-dink, Lily's middle name is in honor of DFGH's newest grandbaby!

Also, James' middle name means Laughter, and I thought that was quite aproppriate for the Marauder... after all... his first name means "supplanter" and i thought he needed a happier middle name...

let's see... anything else? um... *thinks hard about the chapter* OH! I'd forgotten 'bout the Chocolate Frog bet!!! I know what you're all thinking "How could you forget about that?!!?" well... quite easily... what with DD's death and my plans for after Christmas, I just got distracted... and.. it took a re-reading of 24 to remember it! *shakes head* i'm pathetic, I tell ya, pathetic!

One last thing:

Chapter Twenty-Six: Conversations! There's a break from the Hospital Wing, a Quidditch game, a new Transfiguration professor and Gryffindor Head of House, and Harry finds himself among the gossipers once more... and it's not nice conversation about him...

That's all, so...

Until next time,
Devotedly Yours,
Ioci the Contrite and Nefarious