Harry Potter and the Second Prophecy

Chapter 6 - Christmas at the Burrow

Hermione had been right; Ron did not speak to either her or Camilia the next day, but by Wednesday, he and Hermione were old friends again. It took a bit longer to smooth things over with Camilia, however; not because he refused to speak to her, but because she refused to speak to him. She didn't come around until Thursday evening, at which time she made Ron promise not to speak ill of Malfoy in front of her. She had apparently spent quite a bit of time with him the last three days and both flatly and stubbornly refused to hear a single word about what Ron called his "true nature" because he'd been nothing but pleasant, agreeable, charismatic, and fun. Ron was not taking it well.

"How could such a prat do such a grand job at pretending to be so lovable?" he spat.

"She'll figure it out on her own eventually, Ron," chided Hermione. "She's said herself, though: she's quite the obstinate American. Translation: Let her make her own mistake."

"Nail her own coffin, more like," he mumbled.

* * * * * * * *

The days sped by thanks to massive course loads, Quidditch practices, (Camilia showed no interest in sports, so Hermione was glad to have a friend while the other two were out chasing Quaffles and Snitches,) and new friendships. Camilia had joined the school at the start of October, and suddenly it was nearly Christmas. Camilia had no place to call her own, having been inadvertently displaced from the home in Boston, let alone a place to go for the holidays, and as Harry preferred the Weasley home to the Dursley home and would be heading there for the holidays, the Weasleys decided to invite the whole lot of them. Hermione who opted for the Weasley's rather than the opportunity to accompany her parents to the Swiss Alps for a Christmas ski trip.

They left the castle for Hogsmeade on the afternoon of the 23^rd, levitating their trunks along with them. Camilia, who had no trunk, had allowed Hermione to bewitch her book bag to be able to accommodate all she'd need for the holiday and had slung it over her shoulder, letting Harry pronounce a quick weightlessness spell as she did so. They arrived at the Three Broomsticks cold and snow-covered, eager to warm up with a round of Butterbeer and step into a toasty fireplace to whisk them to the Weasley's via flue powder.

Camilia had had neither the opportunity to drink Butterbeer nor to experience travel by flue, but as soon as she'd tasted the former, she was a changed woman. "Ooooh," she sighed with the first swig, "this is my new favorite." She did not fancy travel by flue in quite the same way, and Harry understood her dislike of that hot, spun-to-quickly feeling in the pit of one's stomach that flue travel produced.

Ron had arrived home first, followed by Ginny, both of whom were thrilled to see their parents, then by Hermione so that Camilia could watch once more. Camilia followed and, to her dismay, began to dry-heave after she stumbled gracelessly out of the fireplace. Harry came through last, and though he had managed to keep his stomach, he understood Camilia's woes.

Once she had finished retching, she blotted her face with her scarf, took three deep breaths with her eyes closed, and then opened her eyes, smiled warmly at the Weasleys, and gave Mrs. Weasley a daughter's hug. At first, Molly Weasley seemed taken aback, but all her son had told her about this strange young American flooded back to her mind, and she hugged her in return.

They spent the rest of the evening settling in and enjoyed a large pork roast that Molly had prepared for dinner. As they sat round the table sharing stories of their educational adventures over the last few months, Camilia began to weep uncontrollably. All conversation ceased, and the table's occupants stared at her uncomfortably for a moment. Mrs. Weasley reached across Harry and patted her on the shoulder as she said, "My dear girl, whatever is the matter?"

Camilia took a deep, hitching breath and blurted out, "I've - I've just never seen a family have dinner together before! It's so - so sweet! Like a fairy tale!" and she began to cry afresh. Everyone at the table glanced around at each other, began to chuckle, and then began to laugh outright, and when Camilia realized that they were not laughing at her but at the unconscious charm of her statement, her tears subsided and she laughed right along with them.

After dinner, Ginny, Hermione and Camilia headed up to Ginny's room where they'd all sleep. Mr. Weasley had bewitched it earlier to cause it to double in size so they could all be quite comfortable. Ginny protested that it should be left that way, and Mr. Weasley tittered at the suggestion and wished them all a good night. Harry and Ron retired to Ron's room, and Ron protested that his room should be doubled in size as well, at which time Mr. Weasley's titter became a chortle, and he wished them good night, as well.

Christmas Eve brought home Fred and George, proud as ever of their flourishing new business in Diagon Alley, Bill, on two day's vacation from Gringott's, and Charlie, which, considering he'd not three days prior been chasing a herd of Chinese Luck Dragons out of a Japanese province, was a wonderful surprise to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. The only family member missing, it turned out, was Percy. It could have been argued that he'd wanted to spend Christmas with his family, but since everyone knew that if he dared show his face without immediately launching into a grand apology for his behavior his brothers would hex him into oblivion, Percy was not present.

A merry time was had by all as they made preparations for the next day, though none more merry than that had by Harry and Camilia; neither had been fond of Christmas growing up, as Harry's best Christmas gift from the Dursleys had been a crumpled piece of tin foil when he was four years old, and Camilia spent Christmases in a home that celebrated neither birthdays nor holidays.

The next morning, Harry woke to a mound of gifts at the end of his trundle bed. "'Morning!" said Ron brightly, ripping through the paper on what appeared to be the last gift in his own stack. "Dragon skin Quidditch gloves! Charlie must've been feeling generous this year!" he exclaimed.

Harry, always amazed at the sight of gifts intended for him, began opening his as well, but unlike his best friend, he savored each tear he made in the decorative paper surrounding his gifts, and spent a considerable amount of time admiring each item.

"Oy, thanks for the broom grip, Harry," said Ron.

"What are best mates for?" he grinned. "And thank you for the...the... what is this, Ron?" he stammered, looking down at the miniscule metal ball in his hands.

"It's a micro-snitch, what do you think?" asked Ron, exasperatedly. "They're what the international Seekers use to practice; harder to find than your standard-issue snitch, so it's supposed to be excellent practice."

"Thanks, Ron," Harry said, smiling appreciatively. Harry next opened a very expensive editor's pen from Hermione, which would correct his spelling, grammar, and punctuation for him, followed by a gold wand rest studded with rubies from Ginny, with a note about it reminding her of Godric Gryffindor's sword. Harry felt his stomach do a few somersaults and looked slyly at Ron to see if he'd noticed. He hadn't. He then opened his gift from Camilia, a fancy pair of Muggle dress socks. He remembered a conversation he'd had with her toward the beginning of December.

"They weren't that bad. I remember one Christmas they gave me some bathroom tissue, and once I received one of Uncle Vernon's holey socks. Okay, they were that bad," he had laughed.

"They didn't even give you the pair?" she asked incredulously, hiding her amusement. "What a bunch of stingy prats!" She then burst out laughing. "Harry, someday you'll get a pair of socks, sans holes, I promise."

And here they were; they were quite soft, black and tan with small diamond shapes covering them. He was impressed. It seemed the American had taste after all.

Ron looked over at the socks Harry was holding. "Socks?! And Muggle socks, no less! Who on earth gave you socks, Harry?" Ron had believed that one could only receive socks from one's mother.

"Camilia."

"She gave you socks?" he asked, intimating that something else, anything else, would have been preferable to a pair of Muggle socks.

"You - well - you had to be there, I suppose," Harry responded.

"Right. Sure," said Ron, still baffled that Harry would defend a gift of Muggle socks.

Harry finished opening his presents, donned his new sweater from Mrs. Weasley, waited until Ron had left the room and slipped on Camilia's socks, and then headed down to breakfast. He was the last one to the table.

"Good Morning, Harry, and Happy Christmas!" boomed a gleeful Mr. Weasley.

"Happy Christmas," replied Harry.

A chorus of "Happy Christmas"es rose from the rest of the room's occupants. Harry responded with another "Happy Christmas," and sat down next to Mr. Weasley.

"Thanks ever-so-much for the...what do you call it, Harry? Bender?"

"Blender," Harry corrected him.

"Blender, yes," repeated Mr. Weasley. "Fabulous item, this," he said as he continued disassembling it.

Harry received hugs all around from Hermione, Camilia, and Ginny, but when Ginny hugged him, he felt his stomach leap into his throat and could only stammer "Christmas" in return for her thanks and her generosity.

Camilia was beside herself with excitement; although the elder Weasley boys had never been introduced to her, they'd each purchased her a gift anyway, knowing she would be present for Christmas, and so Camilia's haul was extraordinary. She had disappeared upstairs after breakfast to try on the dress robes Hermione had bought her, and the elder Weasley boys were now sitting in the living room discussing her in hushed tones. Harry caught brief snatches of the conversation, but chose to stay out of it because he didn't think he could look her in the face if he participated in a conversation about her well-proportioned figure. Ron, however, had to throw in his two cents, and interrupted Fred and George's running commentary on her bosom with "Don't even try. She has a thing for Draco Malfoy."

The boys were stunned. "Draco?" started Fred.

"Malfoy?" finished George.

"You must be kidding," stammered Bill.

"Not," replied Ron.

"But he's - he's - he's a -" began Fred.

"Malfoy!" concluded George.

"I know," said Ron.

"What a waste," said Charlie. "All that leg, and for what? For a Malfoy. What's the world coming to?" he pondered.

"And she prefers Malfoy to you, Ron," teased George.

"How does that make you feel, little brother?" razed Fred.

Harry decided to step in. "Ron has interests elsewhere, gentlemen."

"And I'm guessing that where those interests are is upstairs right now with Ginny and Camilia, eh, Ron?" added Bill.

"Shut up!" Ron said, coloring.

"Brilliant comeback," said Fred.

"As always," George continued.

"How about you, Harry," asked Bill, "kicking yourself over Malfoy stealing Camilia's attention?"

"Not at all," said Harry. Though he did find Camilia beautiful, he had other interests. He only hoped no one would think to ask. He was wrong.

"You must be interested in someone else, then," stated Charlie.

"Perhaps," said Harry, "and perhaps not."

"Cryptic," said George.

"Quite," added Fred.

Charlie smirked, and then asked, "Hey, Bill, do we have any Veritaserum left from our supply?"

"I'm not about to tell you here, my dear brother; more fun to keep Harry guessing. Doubt he'll have a drink all weekend that way!" Bill and Charlie smiled at one another, and then shifted their gaze to Harry, who was squirming in his chair. They both burst out laughing, and after a few moments, Harry caught wind of the joke and chuckled himself, hoping against hope that they were indeed just kidding and did not truly have any Veritaserum hidden in the house.

The rest of the Christmas holidays passed without incident, and none of the Weasleys or their guests would have thought to worry except that the ministry sent Aurors by twice a day to check on the family. Soon enough, though, Ron, Harry, Hermione, Camilia and Ginny were all safely back at Hogwarts, readying themselves for the next few months of studying.

It was on the second day back that it happened.

Tuesday morning, Camilia managed to catch Malfoy's eye while they ate breakfast in the Great Hall. He glared at her for just a moment, and then returned to his porridge. She sat in stunned silence still holding her fork fully two minutes later until Malfoy rose from his table and strode for the door. She stood quickly, dropping her fork, and made a dash for the door, hoping to intercept him before he reached the hall to the dungeons where the Slytherin Common Room was. He was crossing the entrance hall when she caught hold of his arm and he spun to face her.

"What do you want," he snapped coldly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"To know what your problem is, Draco," said Camilia.

"My problem? My problem?" he asked angrily.

"Yes! Your problem! Because I haven't got one!" she responded, just as angrily.

Malfoy's speech had been well-rehearsed, and he launched into it. "My problem is that you go off with Potter and Weasley, and all the time you're gone I hear from the Slytherins about how you're undoubtedly having, shall we say, a 'fabulous time' with the two of them, and then you come back and don't even say hello. So you want Weasley, do you? Or is it Potter-the-celebrity you're after? Well, you can have them." Malfoy turned to leave, but Camilia held out her hands and he was instantly immobilized, lifted through the air, and returned to the spot where he'd been standing moments before. Malfoy had not expected this turn of events, and was busily reviewing his options. Suddenly the entrance hall was filling with students who had noticed blue energy coming from outside the Great Hall, Ron, Harry, and Hermione among them. He conceded that this showdown would have to be more public than he'd originally planned, and steeled himself to appear weak.

"Don't you dare walk away from me, Draco. For heaven's sake, I was invited to the Weasleys because I had no place else to go. Your mom sure as hell didn't send me an invitation, so where was I supposed to go? Huh? I did NOT get with either Ron or Harry, and I didn't say hello, you stupid prat, because I was busy trying to get your now-belated Christmas present together and I didn't want you to know about it! Happy?!" she practically screamed.

"So you didn't hook up with Potter?" Malfoy yelled back.

"No, I didn't hook up with Harry!" she retorted. "We've talked about this before! He's not my type, and he has other interests! You know that!" Harry, standing next to Ron and Hermione, suddenly had a large number of eyes turned toward him and he felt his face go scarlet.

"Or Ron?" demanded Malfoy.

"Dammit, Draco, no! What's with the jealousy? It's you that I want! It's you that I thought about every second that I didn't get to see you! So quit it already!" Camilia was furious.

"Would you please let me down now?" growled Draco, mentally battling the humiliation of being stuck in the air.

"Fine!" yelled Camilia. With that, he dropped six inches to the ground, looked around at the crowd that had gathered, then back at Camilia, willing himself to apologize.

"I'm - I'm sorry," he said.

"Me too," she replied.

And, without warning, he wrapped one arm around her back, one around her shoulders with his hand in her hair, and pulled her to him in a long, deep kiss.

The girls in the crowd sighed, and the many boys whistled, excluding, perhaps, Harry and Ron and a few other Gryffindor boys. Harry turned away, shaking his head, and Ron made retching noises at Harry's side until Hermione elbowed him in the ribs. "I think it's sweet," she scolded Ron.

"She would," Ron said sideways to Harry, rolling his eyes, and with that, he turned and strode up the stairs toward the Gryffindor common room.