Harry Potter and the Return to the Riddle House

Chapter Sixteen

Christmas

The next morning, Harry was awakened by a happy shout from little Ian, who was running energetically around the room, waking them all up for their presents. He jumped on the pile of blankets representing his sister.

"Ow!"

"Rachel, wake up, wake up, it's Christmas!"

Harry put on his glasses and smiled. Rachel murmured sleepily,

"Ian, it's five in the morning... Christmas doesn't start until sunrise..."

"Oh, now what kind of spirit is that?" boomed Fred Weasley, jumping over the last three stairs.

"Yeah, listen to the kid," George added, swinging Ian in the air. "He has wisdom beyond his years..."

Rachel pulled her blankets over her head. Ian tried to tickle her, and she smacked him with a pillow.

But the little boy's excitement was contagious; before long all the Weasleys were downstairs and the cats were leaping at littered ribbon and wrapping paper. Harry got a thick, warm sweater, black with deep green trim, from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Ron gave him an excellent 'Official Firebolt Owners Guide', which had tips for upkeep and special care of his broomstick, and an order form in the back for Firebolt-related merchandise. Hermione's present was much better than last year's--a pair of knitted under-gloves with his initials and the Gryffindor colors. He suspected she knitted them herself; she was getting very good. Lupin and Hagrid both sent him sweets, Fred and George, some suburb and dangerous pranks. The last present he opened was from Rachel. He tore the paper off and an oddly shaped box fell into his lap. He read the curly script on the back, according to the packaging, inside was a pair of goggles he could use for Quidditch that were waterproof, unbreakable, and felt weightless. They were also bewitched so that he would be able to take off his glasses and still see; now they would not crack or press against his face. He put them on and the strap and edges conformed instantly to his face, so it did not feel like he was wearing them at all. Rachel caught sight of him and laughed; he must have looked rather comical in his pajamas and goggles. She touched something around her neck and smiled at him. Harry noticed she was wearing his present. It was a delicate silver chain with a cat-shaped charm in it, which he thought it had looked a little like Sprite. From the smile she gave him, Harry thought she liked it.

After the wrapping paper had been stuffed into the fireplace, everyone sat on the couches and ate sandwiches, mostly waiting for Christmas dinner that evening. Ian fidgeted; wanting to go outside on the new toy broomstick Rachel and Chris had given him. Crookshanks purred in front of the fire and Sprite tried to bite her new collar. Mr. Weasley got some well-deserved rest with a hot cup of tea.

Ron was feeling very smug; he had given Hermione a pair of knitting needles with 'S.P.E.W.' on them. She loved them and said she was so happy Ron had finally accepted and supported her elfish brigade. He was fairly startled; he just thought to put S.P.E.W. on them because she was always knitting for the program. (Harry was still not yet able to tell her that every single sock went to Dobby.) Ron was, however, overjoyed to find she thought it was such a sensitive gift; he never knew he was so thoughtful. When she had her back turned, he pumped his fist into the air.

***

Christmas dinner that evening was amazing; Mrs. Weasley and everyone who helped her outdid themselves. There was a turkey Harry thought might have weighed more than Ian, piles of stuffing, nearly every vegetable he could think of, three kinds of potatoes, and rich, thick pies for dessert. Tonks, Lupin, Moody, and Thedon, all of whom had nobody to celebrate with, were welcomed back and helped finish the feast off, and then Buckbeak got the bones and gizzards.

Harry felt he could have fallen asleep right where he sat, but he managed to rouse himself to say goodbye to the visitors. Then he and the others sat in front of the fire once more, listening to the cracks and pops, some of which turned out to be Fred and George's Blasting Bonbons. Harry sank into his chair and yawned. Except for Sirius, the holiday was perfect.

Chapter Seventeen

Onslaught

The next week, however, was not so perfect. A wet snow was swirling around them as they boarded the school train, and there was a definite post-holiday gloom spinning about as well. Rachel was depressed because Ian and Chris had left. Harry tried to cheer her up.

"Come on, at least now we get to go to classes," he joked. She made a vague noise in the back of her throat.

"Sorry," Harry said. "That was a joke."

"I know," Rachel said, but her voice had an annoyed edge. Harry, who had a hard time getting Hedwig in her cage and quieting her, had already been a little irritated himself, and snapped,

"I'm just trying to cheer you up!"

"I know, Harry, just.... Fine. I'm sorry." Rachel muttered, still looking sad, which made him feel guilty.

Ron and Hermione where making their usual rounds as prefects, and Ginny had gone off to sit with Neville. For most of the trip back to the castle, Harry and Rachel went over their books and tried to wake their minds up for the coming term, which did not make for the most pleasant ride. And it didn't help that once they were in the entrance hall, Peeves let them know how he had missed them by spraying shaving cream over most of the students.

The next day, the Gryffindors were besieged by their usual mid-year plague of homework. But the day wasn't all bad; Rachel at least brightened a bit when Snape gave them a potion out of Powerful and Exquisite Brews, which he seemed to find very useful--it was always on his desk. Harry was happy for her, even though the mixtures were difficult. Then he discovered at lunch that all he had to do to get Malfoy to shut up, whether he was laughing at Ginny and Neville or Harry himself, was to get Ron to very casually mention his father, and Malfoy would slink maliciously away. Harry thought it was pretty funny; Malfoy didn't seem to like the fact that his and Ron's fathers' roles had basically switched. Harry thought he had been avoiding the Weasleys...

Aside from homework, most of Harry's time was taken up by Quidditch practice. For the second year running, Gryffindor may be going to the finals. This was established firmly in the first match after the holidays, when they beat Hufflepuff by 250-90. If Harry's Chasers stayed in form, and he trained his eyes like a hawk, and Ron kept improving like he was, they were there. So the Gryffindors spent every evening they could spare on the Quidditch field.

One day, after another irritating Potions class (as usual, Rachel's and Hermione's potions were the only ones that turned out properly) about two weeks after their return, Harry met the others at the Gryffindor table for dinner. When he walked into the Great Hall, he noticed that there were knots of people gathered around neighboring tables, and everyone seemed to be talking wildly about something.

"What happened?" he asked Hermione, who had a copy of The Evening Prophet-- Special Report in her hands and was reading furiously.

"There's been another attack, a big one," Rachel said breathlessly, reading over Hermione's shoulder.

Harry stood behind Hermione as well and skimmed the long article urgently. A large group of Death Eaters had attacked a mostly Muggle village. There had been ten reported fatalities so far, two large families had been massacred, and substantial Memory Charms were being distributed. Harry muttered, "Ron, Thedon and your dad will be up for days working on this..."

"Isn't this close to Hogwarts?" Rachel asked in a slightly worried tone.

"Well..." Harry paused for a moment. "It is kind of close..."

"And they've been getting really active lately," Hermione added. "I mean, there's a clash being reported nearly every time we open a paper, and they're getting more intense..."

"People are dying." Harry finished her thought in a darker voice.

"This must have been what it was like the first time..." Ron said after a rather ghastly silence. "It's... it's sort of scary..."

***

Most of the school was jumpy in the weeks after the attack. Many had noticed, like Rachel, that it was awfully close to Hogwarts. The majority of the Slytherins, however, were eerily smug--but then, many of them had Death Eaters for parents. A few fights broke out in the corridors between them and members of other houses; Rachel had to hold Harry back once after he heard Malfoy laughing while re-reading the article. He was also gloating, it sounded like, over his father's escape. Not a single Death Eater had been captured.

"See, this is exactly what the Hat was talking about last year, not all Slytherins have parents working for Voldemort!" Hermione said one evening in the common room.

"No, just most of them, and the rest are all evil enough anyway," Ron replied, scowling. Hermione, surprisingly, sighed but did not continue.

The Quidditch match the following week managed to mostly take their attention off the battle, at least for a while. Ravenclaw also beat Hufflepuff, which was now last in the running for the House Quidditch Cup. Harry increased his training sessions even more; he, Rachel and Ron would even go out during breaks and toss a Quaffle around in the slush.

As January slipped into February, the weather was getting milder, but Harry had a new problem to worry about--Valentine's Day. Last year had been a complete disaster, and he had no idea what he was going to do with Rachel. He strongly agreed with Ron when he said (when the girls were not around) that the holiday should be abolished completely; it was rather useless.

But he did, bravely, ask Rachel to go to Hogsmead with him on Valentine's Day anyway. To his immense relief, she reminded him that it would be much too obvious. So on the 14^th, he cheerfully waved off an extremely nervous Ron, and spent the day on the Quidditch pitch with Rachel. It turned out to be a lot of fun; she was sitting in the stands with him when nobody else was on the field and slipped him what looked like a small chocolate truffle. He thanked her and ate it, only to find that it was another Blasting Bonbon. So he took her bag when she was doubled over laughing and put it in a tree. They spent almost the entire day getting back at each other, and Harry couldn't help but grin when Ron and Hermione came back from Hogsmead, looking limp from nerves and stress, while his sides ached from laughing. It was difficult to be scared or angry at anything just then.

***

But they were all unpleasantly jolted back the next week; there had been another scuffle over the weekend. This time it was smaller--a women came home to find the Dark Mark above her house; this attack appeared to have been done for 'fun'--but increased the school's general feeling of unease. It was not too close to Hogwarts, but it was disturbing. Harry began to even more fully appreciate the Order's work, and also practiced his Occlumency every night. Voldemort was getting no help from him this time.