The Greatest Kind of Magic

17. The Best Christmas Ever

In the silence after the music, Liam kissed her.

For Ginny, time froze.

And then, something exploded inside her. A thousand emotions welled up all at once: images and memories and thoughts all clamouring for her attention.

She saw Liam: a stranger peeking into her train compartment. She saw him standing with his violin in his hands, that first time she'd heard him play. She saw the unspoken apology in his eyes, immediately after he'd snapped at her. She saw his grateful smile when she helped him with his transfiguration.

She saw him lying in the hospital wing, battered and scared, yet still finding it in himself to be horrified on her behalf. "You were possessed by You-Know-Who when you were eleven?"

Then she saw Tom Riddle, with his beautiful face and cold grey eyes. "Why, thank you, Ginny. You have been most useful."

Ginny shivered, and drew back, cursing Tom silently. But when she looked up, it was Liam who was staring at her, hurt and confusion in his eyes. "Ginny, I'm..."

...sorry.

"No," said Ginny before he could utter the inevitable apology.

"I..."

Ginny shook her head slightly, and he fell silent. She could feel his tension, his fear. She squeezed his hands tightly, and he relaxed a little.

No, Liam, you didn't do anything wrong.

Tom was the problem, not Liam. Tom, whose voice now whispered sweet lies in Ginny's mind. She remembered how he always seemed to understand, how he sympathised with her every sorrow, how he listened patiently when she poured out all her feelings. How he manipulated her with gentle words.

Tom is gone! her mind screamed. This isn't Tom! This is Liam! He's different!

Ginny trusted Liam completely. Or she wanted to.

I trusted Tom completely.

Liam's voice brought her back to the present. "Ginny," he said, a slight tremor in his voice, "if you don't want..."

He broke off, took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I..."

He's as nervous as I am.

And suddenly, with that thought, Ginny understood what was different about Liam: why he wasn't - and couldn't possibly be - anything like Tom.

Ginny had never really known Tom. She'd given him her innermost thoughts and feelings: he'd given nothing back. He gave her sympathy, but she never knew what he was feeling. She'd trusted him because she'd been taken in by his apparent kindness and patience. She trusted Liam because she knew he could be trusted.

Liam kept nothing from her. There were no secrets, no lies. Not that she knew everything about him: far from it. But he let Ginny into his world as much as she let him into hers, if not more. Liam was as generous with his feelings as Tom had been with his false sympathy.

Liam is closer to me than anyone I've ever known.

With that realisation, Ginny felt something inside of her melt. Some darkness that'd been there since the Chamber of Secrets, now miraculously transformed from pain into strength, and hope, and love.

Love... Oh sweet Merlin, is this...

She shook her head, and again she was back in the present moment, with the moon glittering through the windows and Liam standing silent and tense in front of her. Ginny stepped towards him and rested her head on his shoulder.

She felt him release the breath he'd been holding. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly.

They remained like that for a long time. Liam's music - now their music - once again began to whisper through the castle.

This time, the magic was coming from both of them.

***

When they returned together to Gryffindor Tower, Ginny saw Ron and Harry playing chess in front of the fire.

"Where've you two been?" asked Ron, looking up from the game.

"Dancing," said Ginny quietly. Beside her, Liam smiled.

"Dancing?" Ron repeated incredulously. "How? Where?"

Ginny couldn't suppress her grin. "In the Room of Requirement." Knowing Ron wouldn't be satisfied, she added, "Liam needed to play the piano. So the Room of Requirement made one for us."

Harry looked up curiously. "Really? Did it work?"

You have no idea, Ginny thought. "Oh, yes," she told him.

"Amazing. Makes you wonder what else it could come up with, if people need it." Harry grinned. "I could've used it to make me some aqualungs for that Triwizard task."

Ginny saw Ron frown suspiciously. "I thought Muggle things couldn't work at Hogwarts?" he said.

Liam sat down in an armchair next to him, first pulling up an extra one for Ginny. "Electrical things can't work at Hogwarts. A piano doesn't use electricity."

"Makes you wonder though, doesn't it?" said Harry, looking at Liam. "I mean, what if somebody really needed something electrical?"

Ron shrugged. "Why would they? I mean, don't Muggles just use eklec... eklet... that stuff because they don't have magic? If you went into the Room of Requirement before the Triwizard task, you'd probably just find a big tub of Gillyweed."

Ginny knew Ron had a point, but for some reason his casual dismissal of Muggle tools irritated her. She felt that Ron was missing something, and she understood what it was when Liam spoke up.

"There's more to Muggles than trying to live without magic," he said quietly. "Muggle technology is a magic of its own."

Ron moved his knight to capture Harry's castle. "Muggles can't do magic," he said stubbornly.

"Depends on what you mean by 'magic'," Liam retorted. "Magic is more than just spells and potions."

Ginny heard Liam's music in her heart. She remembered his arms around her. So much more, she thought and smiled at him. She wanted to reach out and take his hand, or better still, to curl up right next to him in his armchair, to hold him and never let go.

But doing so in front of Ron and Harry was unthinkable. Ginny wasn't sure why. They'd find out one day: why not now?

Because for now, it's our secret, Ginny thought.

Yes, that was true - Ginny was enjoying the secret. But there was more, too.

I've always been an outsider.

Ginny stared into the fire, thinking.

First, she was the only girl out of seven children. Then, when she came to Hogwarts, she was Ron's shy little sister with her hopeless crush on Harry. When she looked at Harry, Ron and Hermione, they seemed so much smarter and braver than she was. Ginny longed to be a part of their circle, but it she knew it'd never happen - she was always just Ron's little sister.

And there was Tom.

Ginny shivered. Then she looked at Liam and felt a surge of happiness and strength.

Tom can't hurt me anymore, she told herself firmly, as she returned to her memories. Back then, though... After Tom, how could I be anything but an outsider?

Ginny had friends, sure, she even had boyfriends. But always, she felt that she wasn't quite a part of anything, she wasn't quite the same as everybody else. Always, a part of her was alone.

But with Liam, something was different. Somehow, from the moment she first heard him playing the violin, Ginny no longer felt so alone, so outside. With Liam - Ginny couldn't explain it, even to herself - but there was a connection, an understanding, a...

Ginny didn't know. All she knew was that she no longer wanted to be part of "The Trio", she no longer envied people who had close, tight-knit circles of friends. Being on the outside didn't matter anymore. She wasn't outside alone.

Liam is with me. He has been, from the moment I heard him play - even if he didn't know it then. Something in his music spoke to me. Somehow, through his music, he spoke to me.

And if that's not magic, I don't know what is.

Ginny looked at him again and smiled. She saw him looking back, smiling back.

Liam was different from the boyfriends she'd had before, and her feelings for him were very different. That was why she didn't want to say anything to Ron or Harry, at least not yet. What had happened was bigger than a kiss, bigger than "going out", bigger than all those things the girls in Ginny's dormitory whispered and giggled about late into the nights. Ginny didn't know the right words to describe it, and she didn't want to trivialise it by using the wrong ones. Only one thing was clear in her mind as she sat there beside him.

The secret we share is the greatest magic of all.

***

Liam's rogue magic made a startling comeback.

I thought it was gone for good, he thought, as he lay awake late on Christmas Eve. He hadn't slept properly for days now. He was always too excited, too busy thinking over everything that'd happened, every moment he'd spent with Ginny, savouring each new memory. This night was no different.

The rogue magic: that had been a surprise. In the weeks leading up to the Christmas holidays, nothing at all unexpected had happened. No tipping cauldrons, no exploding lamps, no walking potions.

There was that slip-up at The Whinging Pom, Liam thought. I punched Dudley... without really punching him.

He rolled over, drawing the blankets more tightly around himself. For a few seconds, he just listened to Ron snoring and Harry muttering incoherently in his sleep.

That was just a slip-up, he told himself, remembering the fight. Not like what's happening now. Now my rogue magic is completely out of control.

Liam smiled in the darkness. Dumbledore said I have to control it. But I bet he never even imagined it could be like this...

The whispered music on that first night - that had been amazing and beautiful beyond belief. Liam still sometimes thought it'd been a dream. But whenever he saw Ginny, felt her warm hands, kissed her soft lips - no, it wasn't a dream. It was real - that night had been real. And Ginny, she too was real.

Liam thought of Ginny, just a few rooms away. He pictured her beside him, her head on his chest, her hands on his shoulders. He wondered if she was asleep, or if she was lying awake too, thinking of him.

Dreaming the same dream.

Sometimes, I still think it's a dream. Like that time I opened the piano, and all those butterflies flew out. Fluttered to the ceiling, and poof! Burst into coloured sparks like tiny fireworks.

Liam lay awake, thinking about the magic. But what he saw in his mind was Ginny's face, watching the butterflies with wonder in her eyes.

His Ginny, his...

...girlfriend?

Liam shook his head in the darkness.

No way. "Girlfriend" is way too trivial.

A girlfriend - you ask her out and you take her to the movies, and you try to find things to talk about - maybe you even find them. And you snog when you get the chance, and hope her parents don't find out, and wonder how far you can get before she stops you. And it's great, and it's fun, but eventually you break up. A bit sad, but no harm done.

Ginny is so much more.

Ginny wasn't just someone to snog. She wasn't just someone to talk to. Ginny was - Ginny filled up Liam's world. Ginny was everything.

She fills the world with magic.

Liam smiled in the darkness. This rogue magic - the magic she brings - even if I could control it, I wouldn't.

He thought of all the things that'd happened since that first unforgettable night in the Room of Requirement.

That whispered music, to begin with. That's happened several times now. Every time, it's more beautiful. How could I ever stop that? Why would I?

And those butterflies. How amazing was that?

And the light. That time the windows changed colour, and the light danced with us: blue and purple and gold and pink. Is that dangerous? If Dumbledore could see how beautiful it was - would he still tell me I had to control it?

It's not just me, anyway. It's coming from Ginny, too. It's so beautiful, because it's both of us.

Our magic. Love magic. Nobody ever told me it could be like this.

Maybe nobody knows.

He drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face.

***

"Oi! Liam! Wake up, already!"

Liam rolled over, muttering, "Go 'way. I'm... 'sleep."

"It's Christmas, mate! Wake up!"

Ron's voice.

Liam opened his eyes. Pale light was shining through a gap in the drapes around his bed. "Wha' time izzit?"

"Who cares?"

Liam thought, Ginny. He sat up in bed and pulled aside the drapes.

"Happy Christmas," he said to Ron and Harry.

"Happy Chrishmash t' you, 'oo," said Ron through a mouthful of chocolate.

"Yeah, Happy Chris..." Harry was interrupted by a burst of high-pitched singing from the card he'd just opened:

"Have a very Happy Christmas,

Sing and laugh this merry day!

Have a very Happy Christmas,

Let the Boggarts stay away!"

Midway through the song, Ginny came into the dormitory. Liam jumped out of bed, all traces of sleepiness gone and forgotten.

"Bloody hell, Ginny," said Ron, "don't any of you girls ever knock? Hermione's always barging in too. It's bloody annoying."

Ginny shot him a withering look. "And a Happy Christmas to you, too." She was wearing a bright yellow, slightly lumpy woollen jumper.

Harry waved the singing Christmas card. "Thanks, Ginny!" He grinned. "Happy Christmas!"

"You're welcome, Harry," she replied. "Don't forget, we're family now."

"What is it with you and singing cards?" Ron asked. Turning to Harry, he said, "You watch it, mate. You'll be getting a singing card for every Christmas and birthday from now on. Ginny has some kind of talent for making them, and she does it every time!"

"It's not a talent," said Ginny. "I've got nothing on Liam."

Liam blushed, but smiled with pleasure. He had indeed given Ginny a "singing" Christmas card, though it didn't actually sing, but played a short, sweet melody that he'd recorded with his violin.

Ginny leaned over to him and said quietly, "When I opened it, a butterfly flew out."

Liam shook his head in wonder. Rogue magic again, he thought.

"Well, are you going to open your presents, or what?"

Liam noticed the pile at the foot of his bed for the first time. There were several small packages, as well as one surprisingly large one, which he guessed was from his parents.

He unwrapped the small ones first: some chocolate frogs and a card from Ellie, a homework planner from Hermione, more chocolate from Harry and Ron. A slightly larger package turned out to be from Ginny: it contained a book entitled Wizards, Muggles and The Arts: a Study of Different Kinds of Magic. Liam could tell by the battered cover that the book wasn't new. But he was sure Ginny hadn't chosen it because it was cheap.

"It's really obscure," she explained. "I found a copy in the library a few weeks back, but half the pages were missing or just erased. I asked Madam Pince, and she found a dealer that she could order it from." She paused, then added, "It didn't cost much: the dealer said it was just old trash." She grinned. "Shows how much he knows."

Liam opened the book carefully. It wasn't in the best repair. Liam wondered how long it had been collecting dust in the back of the dealer's library.

"You reckon this is something wizards have forgotten?" Liam asked, turning the pages carefully. "Like, something everyone used to know, but now it's just a sort of myth, or a joke?" He paused, thinking. "Kind of like how most Muggles see magic," he added quietly.

"What've you got?" asked Ron, coming over to Liam. He was now wearing a maroon jumper, quite similar to Ginny's.

Liam showed him the book. "This one's from Ginny. I haven't opened the one from my parents yet." He gestured at the large package. "What'd you get, then?"

"The usual," said Ron, plucking at the maroon jumper. "Harry got one, too."

Harry had just unwrapped a green jumper, which was indeed very similar to Ginny's and Ron's. Ron went over to look at it. "Hey," he exclaimed, "yours is as lumpy as ours are! You really are part of the family now, mate."

For some reason, this seemed to make Harry extremely happy. He beamed with pleasure as he eagerly pulled the jumper over his head. Then he looked at Ginny and Ron, as if to compare. "We look like a traffic light," he said, smiling.

Liam grinned. Who would've thought a lumpy jumper could make someone so happy?

"What's a traffic light?" asked Ron.

While Harry explained, Liam busied himself unwrapping his parents' present. He was used to receiving the same sort of gifts as the Weasleys: sweets and chocolates, books, new clothes. He did often receive Muggle gadgets for his birthdays, but he never expected expensive Christmas presents. His father had often said it was relief Liam wasn't into Quidditch.

Liam tore away the wrapping. At the top of the package was a small box, which turned out to contain a selection of home-made cakes and sweets. Underneath, Liam found some new socks, and a jumper - though unlike the Weasleys', this one had obviously been bought in a Muggle shop.

Underneath the clothes was Liam's CD player.

Liam gaped in astonishment.

How did they guess?

It wasn't new, it'd already been his, but it was the best present his parents could've given him. They must've remembered me telling them about Hermione's spell at dinner, he thought.

On closer inspection, Liam found that his parents had also sent him a leather case with all his CDs, as well as a two-month supply of batteries.

And along with his parents' Christmas card, Liam found a small Muggle envelope, with his name written on the front in Jessie's handwriting.

The CD player was instantly forgotten. With trembling hands, Liam tore open the letter.

Dear Liam,

I just don't know what to feel. This is all so bizarre, so confusing. I'm still mad at you for not telling me before, but I can sort of see why you didn't. But I'm still mad. This was so important - and you kept it from me all this time. I wish you'd told me.

Magic is real. I always knew that, but I never realised just HOW real it was. Your letter - I nearly died. When the writing appeared in the air - it was just the most amazing thing I've ever seen.

It just isn't fair. I read your letter, and I went and talked to your mum. She was really nice, she talked to me for ages. And she said she can send my letters to you. But I hate everything she told me, and everything you told me. Why do only some people get to be able to do magic? And if you can't, you JUST CAN'T? I wanted to do magic all this time - I thought I COULD do it. And now I realise that magic is even more amazing than I ever imagined - but I'll never be able to do it. I HATE THIS! It is NOT FAIR!

Some people get all the good things. I never get anything. I know there's people worse off than me, but I still hate it.

I wish you could come back. At least with you here, everything wasn't so bad. Davey and Sarah are great, but they never understand me like you do.

Hope I'll see you at the Pearl Jam concert.

I wish I hadn't seen that Mark in the sky. Then I could still believe there's magic for me.

Jessie

Liam folded up the letter, his good spirits deflating. In his mind, he imagined Jessie tearing pages out of her diary, and throwing her "Magic" books into the dustbin. He imagined her, lost and alone, with nothing and no one to turn to for comfort.

Ginny was looking at Liam with concern on her face. "Liam? What's wrong?"

Liam shook his head sadly. "I got a letter from Jessie. My mum sent it along."

"Is Jessie okay?"

Liam sighed, and nodded. "Yeah. I guess - I guess it's not too bad. I mean... at least she wrote. But... she's not happy."

He remembered Jessie as he'd first known her: a sad shade of a girl.

Ginny touched his arm gently. "But you never expected her to be happy, did you? I mean, you always knew it'd be hard. It'll take time, Liam."

"Yeah, I know." He sighed. "I guess, deep down, I was hoping for a miracle."

"Well, at least you know you can write to her now. Actually, I can't believe we never thought of getting your parents to pass the letters along."

Liam felt a little embarrassed about this. "Yeah - I never give them the credit they deserve," he admitted. He thought of what Jessie had written - "I talked to your mum... she was really nice, she talked to me for ages." Somehow, the thought that Jessie would be able to talk to his mum, if only when passing on or picking up letters, made him feel a little better.

Ginny squeezed his hand, and Liam smiled, though he still felt the worry gnawing at the pit of his stomach.

"Hey - are you two coming down for breakfast, or what?" asked Harry, who had just finished unwrapping all his presents. "I'm starving."

Liam's stomach rumbled in response. Ginny laughed.

"Come on, then," she said.

Liam took one more glance at Jessie's letter. At least she's okay. And I can write to her all the time, now.

And Mum will look out for her, I know she will.

With that comforting thought, Liam turned to follow Ginny out of the dormitory.

As they filed out, Ron gestured towards Liam's CD player. "So," he said, looking over his shoulder curiously, "what the hell is that thing?"

***

This is the best Christmas of my life, Harry reflected as he lost his third successive game of chess. It seemed bizarre that he would feel this way after everything that'd happened, but there it was.

I guess it's because this is the first time I've had Christmas as part of a family, he thought, running his hands over the lumpy fabric of his new jumper. It's nice not to be singled out, for a change.

"Another game, Harry?" asked Ron, already setting out his pieces on the chessboard. "Though of course, I'm just gonna kick your arse again."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Ron," said Harry with a smirk.

"Hey, that's what friends are for. And brothers, for that matter."

Harry grinned. He wasn't sure he'd ever get used to that idea. But it felt wonderful to think of Ron as a brother.

"Another game, then," he said. "And we'll see who kicks whose arse."

"Dream on," scoffed Ron.

While Harry was setting out his pieces, Ron got up and went to examine Liam's CD player for what must've been the tenth time. After about five minutes, he succeeded in putting in a CD the right way up and getting it to play.

"This Muggle music," he said, tapping his foot, "it's not bad, is it?"

Harry had never owned a CD player or been to a concert, but he'd heard many of the songs in Liam's collection blaring from Dudley's bedroom. "Yeah... you can sort of see why Liam is always defending Muggles."

"And quite rightly, too," said a voice from the portrait hole. "Muggles have a good deal to offer the world - just as much as wizards."

Harry and Ron both whirled around to see Hermione heaving her trunk into the common room. At the sight of her, Harry's spirits soared. He'd missed her these past two weeks, and had desperately wanted to see her. Her calm rationality always helped him to keep his feet on the ground, and was every bit as precious to him as Ron's stubborn loyalty.

"Well, are you two going to help me, or what?" Hermione asked, her exasperated tone breaking Harry's train of thought. Her face was flushed from the cold outside, and she was puffing from the effort of dragging her trunk.

Harry leapt to his feet and rushed over to the portrait hole. Hermione dropped the trunk and threw her arms around him. "Oh Harry, I'm so sorry! When I heard... I was so worried... But Mum and Dad wanted me at home for Christmas... thank goodness the Weasleys have taken you in - it's the best thing that could've happened."

Harry didn't say anything. He just returned her hug. For a moment, his happiness was complete. She'd been the only thing missing for him this Christmas.

Well, apart from my parents, and Sirius, and lack of a bloody "kill or be killed" prophesy hanging over my head.

Harry released Hermione and frowned.

Shut up, he told the nasty little voice in his head.

"It's so good to see you," he told Hermione. "These holidays have been... pretty mental."

Hermione squeezed his hand, her face serious. "I know. That's why I convinced my parents to let me go back a bit early - I wanted to see you. I feel so terrible, Harry."

Harry sighed. "Please, Hermione - don't."

Hermione nodded. "Okay. I won't." She smiled, a little sadly. "I'll try not to, anyway. Come on, help me get this inside."

Ron and Harry obliged, but were forced to leave the trunk at the foot of the stairs leading to the girls' dormitories. Hermione looked at the trunk, then shrugged and said, "Well, I'm back at Hogwarts now, I'm sure I won't get in trouble for a bit of magic. Wingardium Leviosa!"

She levitated her trunk up to her dormitory. When she returned, she had changed clothes and was carrying several rolls of parchment, a quill and an inkpot. Harry looked at her suspiciously, and Ron asked, rather sharply, "What's all this for?"

Hermione put the parchment and inkpot down on a table, and came to sit by the fire. "Look, I'll be honest," she said somewhat apologetically, "Apart from wanting to see you, Harry, there's another reason I wanted to get back early."

"You wanted to study?" asked Ron, despair in his voice.

Hermione gave him one of her strict, McGonagall-esque looks. "Yes, Ron, I wanted to study. But that's not the reason."

"It isn't?" Ron's eyes widened in mock horror, and he clutched his chest as if he was having a heart attack. "Who are you and what've you done with Hermione?"

Hermione glared, and Ron backed into a chair. "All right. Tell us, then."

If Harry hadn't known her for five-and-a-half years, he might've been startled by how quickly her glare was replaced by a look that was at once calculating, determined, and a little sad. Harry knew this look all too well. It meant Hermione Had Been Thinking.

Evidently Ron recognised the look too, because he said, "This better not be about House-Elves," earning himself another glare.

"Judging by the way you're behaving," said Hermione, glancing pointedly at Ron, "I'd say you haven't seen this morning's Prophet."

Harry felt his stomach lurch. With the way the wizarding world was going, any news Hermione considered important could only be bad. Hermione handed over the paper without a word. Ron leaned over Harry's shoulder to read.

The Nightmare Before Christmas

Christmas celebrations in Diagon Alley were cut short last night by another devastating attack from the supporters of You-Know-Who. Several shops were burned to the ground, and serious damage was inflicted on many others. It is estimated that at least fifty people have been killed.

As it happened with the attack on "The Three Broomsitcks" in November, the Death Eaters have left a message at the scene of the devastation. The words "Christmas is a Muggle Holiday - Blood Traitors Beware" have been spelt out in green flames, and are hovering over the very centre of Diagon Alley. Attempts to remove the writing have so far been unsuccessful.

It appears that the fire started in The Leaky Cauldron. The pub itself was not badly damaged, as it has been protected by a multitude of wards and anti-dark magic spells since the attack on "The Three Broomsticks". It is believed that the Cauldron was singled out as a prime target because it is the link between Diagon Alley and Muggle London. It is now feared that other such links could also be attacked. In particular, many parents are concerned about the safety of sending their children back to Hogwarts from the Christmas holidays on the Hogwarts Express.

"It is such an easy target," says mother of three Caroline Finnegan, whose youngest son currently attends Hogwarts. "Hogwarts itself may be safe - for now - but I'm terrified of what might happen before they even get there."

Ron snorted in disgust. "Finnegan's mum stirring up trouble again. Why doesn't she just keep him at home, if she's so scared." He threw the paper back to Hermione. "Well, at least they're not pinning it on Harry this time."

"Yeah," said Harry, though he found it hard to take comfort in this. "So is that why you wanted to get back early?" he asked Hermione. "So you wouldn't have to go on the Hogwarts Express?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous, Harry. Though I daresay there'll be more people coming back early because of that." She folded up the newspaper. "I came back because we have to do something. We should take advantage of the fact that the school's quiet for the next few days. We can use the library without being disturbed."

"So you did come back to study," said Ron flatly.

"No, Ronald, this is not study! We need to research more spells, we need to plan what we're going to do. We can't just sit back and watch while our world gets destroyed bit by bit! Don't you see what's happening?" Hermione's face was flushed now, her fists clenched. "They're scaring people, terrorising them into submission."

She got to her feet, and began pacing the common room. "I'll bet you some students won't come back to Hogwarts this term, because of that stupid article. I'll bet you people aren't going out to Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley as much as they used to. I'll bet you some people are taking down their Christmas decorations right now."

Harry rubbed his eyes wearily. He felt a weight settling in his stomach, dragging down his good spirits. So much for the best Christmas ever, he thought. Damn this war. Damn this stupid, fucked-up world. Why can't we get one day, just one bloody day to relax and have fun?

"What do you want to do, Hermione?" he asked, resigned. It seemed like such a joke - what could they hope to change? The only thing that really makes a difference is that damn prophesy. And I have no idea how I'm supposed to kill Voldemort. I can't even do a Cruciatus.

But he knew Hermione would not be able to sleep at night if she wasn't doing something - anything - that might make a difference, however small.

And come to think of it, neither can I.

Hermione smiled at him gratefully. "We need to do more with the DA. We only had three meetings after the curfew was put in. We have to have more. On the weekends, and during the week. We have to get around that curfew somehow. And we have to learn more spells, more hexes than what we're doing in Defense. Tonks is a great teacher, but learning spells in class just isn't enough. We need more, and we need to practice more."

"So, d'you want to practice some spells? Now?" asked Ron.

Hermione nodded. "Yes. But I'm also thinking of something else. We need protection. We need some kind of a safety net for all supporters of Dumbledore. For the DA."

"Like what?" Harry asked, though he already guessed what Hermione's answer would be. Judging by the pained expression on Ron's face, so did he.

"I'm not sure," said Hermione thoughtfully. "I need to look it up in the..."

"...library," moaned Ron. "I knew it! It's Christmas, Hermione!"

She looked at him sternly, her face serious. "I don't think Voldemort takes holidays, Ron."

***

Harry pulled another book off the shelf and flipped through the pages idly. He agreed with Hermione that they needed to do more with the DA, but he couldn't find it in himself to enjoy scanning the dusty shelves on Christmas Day. He wondered what Liam and Ginny were doing - they'd disappeared soon after breakfast, leaving Ron to fiddle with Liam's CD player.

Bet they're not looking up spells, Harry thought somewhat sulkily.

"Here's something," said Ron, interrupting Harry's thoughts. "Group Defense: Safety in Numbers."

Hermione peered at the book. "That looks good. I've found a few as well. How about you, Harry?"

Harry closed the book he'd been holding. "No. No luck," he said, feeling a little guilty for not managing to find anything.

"Well, this might be enough for now. Let's look through these and..." Hermione broke off suddenly, raising a finger to her lips.

Harry heard them too: angry voices coming towards them.

"...if he asks you to do more? You're not going to..."

The girl's voice was interrupted by an agitated male one. "If he asks me, I will. What do you think I'm gonna do? I can't just refuse, Ellie."

Harry peered through the shelves. He could see Eloise Midgen and Jeremy Leighton standing just inside the library door, books under their arms. Eloise was looking at the Slytherin with her mouth open.

"But - people are dead! I mean, you can't possibly be capable of..."

Leighton cut her off abruptly. "You know what happened to Grady. You know what I did." He turned away from her and stared at the floor. "That should tell you well enough what I'm capable of."

Behind the shelves, Harry looked at Ron and Hermione. Their shocked faces told him they'd heard the same thing he had.

Jeremy Leighton had just confessed to attacking Liam.