Happy Christmas, Harry Potter

~ Happy Christmas, Harry Potter ~

~ Part 3 ~

Harry.........Harry...

The words were bare whispers in his mind. A dream, yes, but devoid of visual representation. Strange dream, this...

It was then he felt something tickling his nose. Something altogether more tactile and substantial.

He slowly opened his eyes, finding himself staring into Luna's silvery ones. The tickling of his nose had been caused by a few long strands of Luna's damp blonde hair.

"Oh, good," she breathed in relief, pulling back slightly; her concerned expression quickly brought Harry back to reality - he'd been attacked!

He pushed himself up on his elbows and immediately wished he hadn't. His head felt as if it had been filled with rusty nails. He fell back heavily to the floor, groaning and rubbing his forehead.

"I'm so sorry," said Luna, looking strangely pale. "It shouldn't have done that...Daddy charmed it only to attack Dark wizards, you see..."

"Voldemort..." croaked Harry.

"Well...yes, him especially, I suppose," said Luna, uncharacteristically serious. "But I don't understand why it attacked - "

"Voldemort," said Harry a bit more forcefully. "It sensed him through me. I have...some of his...'essence'...if you want to call it that."

"Oh..."

Harry felt the back of his head. He noticed a cushion had been placed there, which was fortunate, for the slight bump he detected stung with a particular vigour.

"Oh, my aching head," he lamented painfully, relieved, at least, that the Death Eaters had not infiltrated the Lovegoods' home after all. He slowly rubbed the back of his head as he gazed up at Luna. "That's the second time I've been dinged on the noggin today."

Luna bit her lip. "Yes, I've noticed," she agreed solemnly. She then tilted her head. "Have you always been this accident prone, Harry?"

Harry stopped rubbing the back of his head. "You're joking, right?"

Luna gazed at him blankly for a moment before picking up a small bottle and twisting the top open. "Here," she said, pouring out a spoonful and proffering it to Harry. "This will make you feel better. And it's cherry flavoured, which is always a plus."

Harry pushed himself up and carefully swallowed the concoction, which, sure enough, had a distinct cherry flavouring. The throbbing pain in his head gradually began to subside. He slowly and gingerly drew up into a sitting position.

"Thanks Luna, it's starting to do the trick already," he said appreciatively. "What'd I get hit by, anyway? It was a strong bugger, I'll give it that - "

"It was a stunning ward," explained Luna, some of the colour starting to return to her cheeks as Harry slowly recovered. "I tried to catch you, but you were falling in the opposite direction, so..."

"It's all right," said Harry reassuredly, his eyes falling on an umbrella holder next to the door, bristling with cattails. "It was an accident. Like you said, they tend to follow me around."

"They do, don't they?" agreed Luna. "Still though, a good host should never allow a guest to come to harm. I am sorry, Harry."

"Don't worry about it," repeated Harry, getting to his feet in an attempt to reassure Luna he wasn't seriously injured. A wave of dizziness swept over him; he slapped one hand against the wall to keep from losing his balance.

"Whoa..."

"It does takes a while for the Stun-B-Gone to take full effect," said Luna, coming to stand before him after picking the pillow up from the floor. "Maybe you should rest for a bit...you wouldn't want to hit your head a third time today, would you? Concussions are no friends of the cerebrum."

"That...wouldn't be my first choice, no," said Harry, his head swimming. It was then he glimpsed a severely scorched area of the wall facing the door, beneath which shredded bits of clothing and straw lay strewn about. The shattered remains of a pumpkin lay in the near corner, it's pulp splattered along the floor.

"What happened here?" he asked, frowning.

"Hmm?"

"All this debris," said Harry. "Where'd it come from?"

"Oh, it was our scarecrow," explained Luna, shrugging. "Daddy had enchanted it to act as the receptacle for the ward, you see."

Harry looked repeatedly between Luna and the debris. "But...what happened to it?" A feeling of apprehension grew within him. "Luna...you didn't use a Reductor spell, did you?"

"Well, yes," said Luna simply. At Harry's expression she proceeded to explain: "It just wouldn't do to have it flinging spells during your stay, it wouldn't be welcoming."

"Luna," said Harry slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose, "You're going to get in trouble..."

"Oh, I'll clean it up later. Daddy wouldn't mind."

"I mean with the Ministry...that's underage magic...there's going to be a hearing...and...and..."

Luna was smiling dreamily; Harry couldn't believe she didn't realize the seriousness of her predicament.

"I'm not kidding, Luna. I'm surprised the owls haven't started flying in already. When it happened to me Dumbledore was there, but now I don't know...what?"

Luna seemed utterly nonplussed at his concern. "The Ministry has neither eyes nor ears here, Harry," she voiced assuredly.

"They have ways of knowing, believe me - "

"Well, maybe elsewhere," said Luna, smiling dreamily. "But this area is 'off the Ministry's radar,' as Daddy likes to put it. Plus we're Unplottable."

"I - we are? I mean you are?" said Harry, surprised.

"Oh yes," replied Luna, taking hold of Harry's hand and leading him slowly into the next room. "Mummy made quite sure of that - she didn't trust the Ministry very much, especially after they gave her a rough go of it. Only the Weasleys know we live here...and Mr. Diggory...oh, and Professor Dumbledore did also...oh, and Hermione..."

"And now me," added Harry as Luna helped him to an old, patched chesterfield in the middle of a large, half-moon-shaped room.

"Yes," agreed Luna. "Actually I suppose a few people do know nowadays, but they're quite good folk, I think. Anyway," she said as she took Harry's coat, "you can rest here as long as you like. In the meantime I'll check the mail...oh and I really should get started on dinner."

She regarded him thoughtfully. "Do you mind terribly if I don't make octopus?"

Harry looked at her, aghast. "What...octopus at Christmas? No, I don't mind at all! In fact I'd appreciate it if you didn't."

"Oh good," said Luna, carefully unravelling her overlong scarf. "I know it's an old Christmas tradition with the Muggles, but Daddy and I aren't very partial to tentacles, so...."

"Eh? Where'd you hear that? This business about octopus being a Christmas tradition?"

Luna gazed at him unblinkingly for a moment. "Frederick told me."

"He told you that, did he?" asked Harry, trying to keep his face devoid of expression.

Luna nodded and turned to go. "I'll be in the kitchen just over here if you need anything...and do feel free to explore, if you feel up to it." She drifted off to an open doorway framed by a what appeared to be a collection of pineapple and coconut husks. There she hesitated for a moment before turning back to Harry.

"If you should go upstairs, Nevermore's in a bit of a nasty mood today, so you might want to keep an eye out."

"Otherwise I'll get an eye out, right?" joked Harry, vividly recalling Luna's loquacious but temperamental mail raven.

Luna blinked. "I hope not," she said earnestly. "It really wouldn't do for you to be known as 'One-Eyed Potter'."

Harry suppressed a grin only with difficulty. "Well, I dunno," he said, stroking his chin in mock contemplation. "I could get one of those magic eyes like Moody has...never know, could come in handy, actually..."

His Ravenclaw friend seemed to consider the possibility. " 'Mad-Eye Potter'," she mused thoughtfully. Then she shook her head. "No, I prefer just 'Harry Potter', I think. I can't really picture you as a pirate...you're entirely too law-abiding for that. Nor a Cyclops - they're rather large, aren't they?"

With that, she disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Harry standing there, perplexed. He wondered if Luna had been bantering with him or engaging in serious conversation. Given that she'd appeared to have taken Fred's word at face value (always a risky proposition), he thought the latter more likely. But then, it was part of the living paradox that was Luna: invariably honest and plain-spoken, hers was a wit nonetheless singularly difficult to pin down.

Harry took off his boots and gazed about the room. Its walls were lined with bookcases, trinket-laden shelves and a few old patchwork quilts; stacked behind the tattered chesterfield were several columns of Quibbler back issues. Two small windows to either side let in enough light to see by, though an old lamp stood next to a large armchair for night time use. The entire room, which he could now see formed exactly half of the perfectly circular first floor, had a well lived-in look, cluttered though not quite to the point of messiness. Several baskets sat near the entrance to the kitchen, containing a mix of pine cones, acorns, hickory nuts, cattails, and a myriad other products of nature that one could readily find in the forest. To his left, a curved stone staircase longed the wall, alongside which sat a small open crate filled with broken stone slabs, many of them brandishing chiselled symbols Harry couldn't recognize.

Harry sighed. It was a comfortable place, modestly decorated for the holidays in a rustic style that evoked old country homes from simpler times. Though unconventional, Harry was in a way surprised; he'd half expected the Lovegoods' residence to contain life-sized carousels of spouting elephant seals and other such follies, but as it was, he could readily tell the floors from the ceiling.

He looked to the large stone fireplace before him. The flames were crackling away vigorously, which caught his attention. Had Luna thrown some wood on the embers when he wasn't looking?

On the mantelpiece stood a few ornamental garlands and some Christmas cards. He drew closer - Neville had sent one, as had the Diggorys...so had Hermione, whose card she'd apparently crafted herself and written in what Harry surmised was some form of Old Celtic. At the sight of Ginny's card he felt an uncomfortable surge of guilt; it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep Ginny isolated from his activities surrounding the search for the Horcruxes, especially considering Hermione was so heavily involved. Even Harry had to admit it was a painful double standard for Ginny to swallow. Indeed, it was for that very reason he'd asked Hermione not to mention Luna's involvement, lest it make the situation even worse.

Still, just the fact he was here...how could he explain it to her? Though he'd never committed to spending the holidays at the Burrow, deep down he knew the reactions his decision would elicit.

I'm not doing anything wrong, he told himself with conviction, setting the card back on the mantle. It's not like I'm seeing someone behind her back or anything...

He became light-headed. He stumbled slightly and grasped the mantle for support, steadying himself for several moments until his head cleared enough for him to stand unaided. He stepped back to the Chesterfield and sat down heavily; the exhaustion of the past several months combined with the lingering effects of the Stunning spell were enough sap him of what little energy he had left.

He slouched back until his read rested against the sofa's worn quilting. He closed his eyes, becoming aware of the sound of running water emanating from the kitchen. He smiled vaguely as Luna's soft humming drifted to his ears. He felt strangely comfortable in this house, overzealous guardian scarecrows notwithstanding. Here, at least, he could afford to let his guard down, if just for a little while.

* * *

Harry awoke to a shrill scream. He nearly fell off the Chesterfield in his groggy haste, scrambling to his feet and drawing his wand. It took him a second or two to orient himself and realize just where he was.

The incessant, high-pitched screaming was coming from somewhere upstairs. It could only be Luna -

Death Eaters!

He bolted up the stairs two at a time, adrenaline energizing his every step. He scrambled out into a short corridor on the second floor, flanked on either side by closed doors - the screaming was clearly coming from his right. He grasped the door handle just as the screaming suddenly died off.

He burst into the room, wand drawn and heart racing.

"LUNA!!"

Before him loomed a large wooden bathtub surrounded by a floral leaf patterned shower curtain. A pale hand quickly reached out and pulled the curtain back just enough to allow the head of a very wet-looking Luna peering out at him, for once her typically surprised appearance entirely appropriate.

"Are you all right? You look a bit out of sorts..."

Harry was dumbstruck. He'd half expected to burst in to find Luna surrounded by Death Eaters, but with nothing more threatening than an overhanging shower head to be seen, he became hopelessly flustered.

"I...I heard...I thought I h-heard someone screaming," he finally managed to stammer. "I thought you were...you know, Death Eaters..."

"Screaming? Oh...yes, the pipes," said Luna as though it explained everything.

"Excuse me?"

"The pipes," she repeated. "They make a rather terrible whistling sound for a few seconds until the water clears the air out of them. But then it does keep the Gobblygooks away, so we've never chanced to fix them."

"The...pipes??"

"That's right," said Luna, long locks of wet, dirty blonde hair plastered to her face. "It's not polite to point, you know."

"Eh?" blurted Harry, before realizing he had his wand levelled directly at her. He hurriedly lowered it. "Oh! S-sorry!"

Luna drew back behind the curtain. "I hope you don't mind," she said as faint wisps of steam rose lazily up to the ceiling. "But you were asleep, so I thought I had time..."

"No, that's, er, that's fine," said Harry, feeling as though he really shouldn't be standing there, what with Luna being stark naked just a few feet from him. "Don't rush on my account. I'll just go...um, wait downstairs..."

"All right," said Luna. "I won't be long. Feel free to try Daddy's pickles, they're really quite good. And they help ward off scurvy!"

Harry's nerves were still a bit frayed as he made his way back down the stairs. Can't let scurvy get me...I've come this far...

The Lovegood's kitchen was identical in shape to the living room, though considerably more cluttered, with myriad well-used pots and pans hanging from the ceiling and a scrubbed wooden countertop strewn with the debris of a large meal's preparation. A half-decorated Christmas tree inexplicably stood right in the middle of the place, a single, lonely present in the shadows of its branches. His stomach tightened at the sight; though he hadn't been able to shop for Christmas presents at all this year, Harry found himself wishing he'd could have somehow made the time, for Luna at the very least.

A glance at the window informed Harry some time had passed since he'd fallen asleep -- it was now quite dark. The smell of freshly prepared food drifting over from the large iron oven piqued Harry's curiosity (and appetite), though he refrained from sampling the fare. Over the doorway leading into the living area was a battered old shield bearing the Tudor coat-of-arms; even given Luna's penchant for the unusual, this particular artefact surprised him. If it was genuine, it could be worth a small fortune - enough to fund a new Snorkack-finding expedition, to be sure.

Luna had set up the small dinner table with a festive tablecloth and mismatched Halloween napkins. The plates and cutlery were of a simple and well-used vintage, from which Harry took a measure of satisfaction; Luna clearly held no interest in trying to impress visitors by pulling out their best flatware, assuming, that is, the Lovegoods even had anything better. If Molly was to be believed, Luna's father could only just make ends meet from the Quibbler's meagre revenues.

The table's centrepiece was a small ivy wreath, atop of which sat a figurine made up of tiny pinecones that Harry found strangely familiar, at least from descriptions.

A Snorkack, it's got to be...too bad Hermione isn't here...

He hadn't waited long before Luna drifted into the kitchen, clad in a floral kimono of all things, and though her long hair was damp and dishevelled, Harry thought she looked quite endearing.

"Hello, Mr. Sleepyhead," intoned Luna dreamily as she peeled a plastic wrapping off her wrist cast. Harry did a double-take; it had been the first time Luna had ever teased him - teased anyone, for that matter, so far as he could remember.

"I s'pose I did drift off a little," he admitted sheepishly, just as he caught sight of an unfurled letter on the counter. "Hey, any news from your Dad?"

Luna's shoulders sagged ever so slightly. "Yes, he's still in Copenhagen," she said sadly. "He said the local Floo Network's working fine, but the international service is still patchy - a Ukrainian witch tried to get back home despite the warnings, but she ended up in Paraguay."

"Ouch," said Harry.

"Anyway, he does send his love," said Luna a little more happily, opening the heavy oven door and peering inside. "Oops...it's a little overdone..."

"I'm sure it'll be great," consoled Harry, his heart going out to his friend. Clearly her father's absence was weighing on her, though this was one instance where he was powerless to help.

* * *

It was a nice Christmas dinner, even despite Luna's culinary skills being a decidedly hit-or-miss affair; the roast goose and Christmas pudding were quite good, as was a delightful brioche-like dish Luna called a Dragon Tail. As he'd expected the pickles were scrumptious, though the marzipan-frosted fruit cake had a garish cherry flavour that drowned out all of the other flavourings. The Gooseberry Fool, on the other hand, was borderline inedible, and even Luna hadn't even finished her own helping of mince pie, nor had she touched the dandelion wine, though Harry had found it to be quite good.

"It's one of Mum's recipes," she'd said at Harry's questioning look. "But I don't react very well to spirits, so..."

They spent the rest of the evening decorating the tree and setting out tiny mince pies and carrots for Santa and his reindeer (Harry hadn't the heart to inform Luna they were mythical), after which they sat before the fireplace and regaled each other with stories from their childhood - the contrast in their early lives being not lost on Harry. Where he'd suffered confinement and shunning, Luna had led an apparently happy childhood prior to Hogwarts, her early years interspersed with several accidents resulting from her insatiable curiosity. None of which, thankfully, had been as tragic as her mother's.

Nevertheless, there was a hint of loneliness in Luna's past. Harry was painfully aware that real friendship was something she'd only begun to experience in the last couple of years.

"I wish Dumbledore would've left me here, instead," intoned Harry after they'd been gazing into the fire for a good while. "I wonder how differently things would have turned...Luna?"

She gave no reaction, her gaze fixed upon the flames, a faraway look in her large, misty eyes. Harry's stomach knotted slightly as he realized she must be thinking of her absent father.

He leaned forward. "Luna, you okay?"

Harry's concerned increased markedly at her apparent obliviousness to his words. He went to tug on her sleeve -

"She does not heare you."

Harry sprang to his feet, wand in hand. It hadn't been his imagination - a young woman's voice, ethereal and strangely antiquated in its inflection, had called to him. Yet he and Luna were alone in the house.

"Who's there?" he called out uneasily. His hand tightened around his wand's wooden hilt. "Show yourself!"

Just then, he felt it - an unnatural chill running down his spine.

He spun around. He gaped at the sight before him.

"Greetinges, Harry James Potter..."

His wand clattered to the floor.