Harry Potter and the Christmas Curse

Prologue I

Three maidens fair lie in the snow,

Their robes of deepest indigo.

The hair of one as bright as flame,

The second an unruly mane,

The third as pale

As a full moon,

These ladies three

Need rescue soon.

Enchanted sleep

Has stilled their breath,

Their skin as pale

And cold as death.

What could make them breathe once more?

What could make them whole and warm?

A quest for three young wizards brave,

They must complete by Christmas day.

~~~~~~~

Prologue II

“My position as caretaker does NOT include foolishness such as this! They’re not even students anymore!”

“Does that mean Argus, that you decline my offer?” There was a hint of humor in the old wizard’s voice.

“No,” said Argus Filch, caretaker at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was the picture of petulance, with his arms crossed and lips pursed. “I’ll keep my end of the bargain, long as you keep yours,” and with that, Filch left the former headmaster’s office.

“You’re making a mistake, Dumbledore.”

Dumbledore smiled from his portrait. “That is a distinct possibility, Phineas.”

Phineas Nigellus scowled from his portrait. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Dumbledore.”

“For once in my life – such as it now is,” Dumbledore chuckled, “I do. I well and truly do.”

~~~~~~~

Chapter One

The Burrow glowed with holiday warmth and cheer. Holly and mistletoe, live fairies in vibrant colors, and charmed snow decorated both the inside and outside of the Weasley home. Light and music, and the scent of mulled wine and delicious food spilled from the doorway and every window. It was Christmas Eve, and in the spirit of the season, Molly and Arthur had opened the Burrow to anyone who would come.

George had bewitched the front door to announce visitors. When Percy arrived, the door’s voice rang out, “Former Big Head Boy, Percy Ignatius Weasley!” Luckily, Percy laughed. However, Molly wasn’t entirely amused. Arthur chuckled from behind his wife as George whispered to him, “I did that for Fred.”

After that, the door minded its manners for the most part, calling visitors by their proper names, but often adding overly flowery titles. Harry cringed with embarrassment at being announced as, “Harry James Potter, Vanquisher of Voldemort and Savior of the Wizarding World!” Hermione laughed until a moment later the door cried, “Accompanied by his lovely lady friend, Hermione Jane Granger, Co-Vanquisher, Co-Savior, and the Brightest Witch of Her Age!”

Ginny arched an eyebrow at, “lady friend,” while Ron laughed and said, “Oi! Don’t I get a fancy announcement?”

The door answered indignantly, “Ronald Bilius Weasley, who was already here, Co-Vanquisher, Co-Savior, and – ” The door suddenly broke into a rousing chorus of, “Weasley is our King,” as Luna appeared on the stoop.

Luna beamed. “What a lovely door!”

George grinned.

Ron blushed scarlet to the tips of his ears.

The door was kept very busy over the next quarter hour, announcing Charlie, then Bill, Fleur, and baby Victoire, baby Teddy and his grandmother Andromeda, Neville and his Gran, as well as Dean, Seamus, Katie and Angelina.

Though magically expanded, the Burrow was full to bursting. Even so, there still seemed to be huge gaps where those lost to the war should be. Harry stood next to the hearth. The fire was crackling merrily, but he didn’t hear it. Lost in thought, he looked around the room filled with people he loved. He couldn’t see those who were there without thinking of those who were not. It seemed more important than ever at Christmas time for everyone who’d survived the war to come together. He was comforted by the knowledge that those who had died were always with him in heart, but he still missed them dearly.

Ginny made her way to his side, a steaming mug of spiced wine in her hand. She snaked her arm through his, offering him the wine. Brought back to the present, he took the mug and smiled at her. As he took a sip, Ginny pointed up with a mischievous look in her eye. “Mistletoe.”

Harry grinned. “Seems like it’s everywhere.”

“And a good thing, too.” She drew his face to her own, and tasted sweet wine on his lips.

The candlelight glinted off the ring on Ginny’s left hand, the reflection catching Hermione’s eye. She smiled a moment, then looked down at her own hand with a sigh. The ring on it was definitely pretty. Ron had surprised her with it shortly after the war ended. He hadn’t any money, so he’d transfigured a coin and a pebble into what looked like a gold and diamond ring. She’d been impressed by the magic involved, but unfortunately it didn’t stick, and every night she had to renew the charm. “I’ll get you a real one as soon as I can,” he’d promised.

She felt Ron come up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. She leaned back into him, turning her head to meet his kiss.

Molly watched her two youngest, her heart swelling. Before the war, she might have admonished them for rushing things. But she knew all too well that life was short and precious. She’d given Ginny and Harry, and Ron and Hermione her enthusiastic blessing. It felt good to have the family growing, especially after such a devastating loss.

Outside, an unexpected visitor appeared on the stoop, a smartly wrapped gift in one hand, the other raised to knock. Before it could do so, the door swung open and loudly announced, “Draco Malfoy!” The entire party seemed to grind to a halt, and an awkward silence fell. Malfoy could not have looked more uncomfortable. People stood aside as Molly made her way to the door.

“Hello, Draco,” Molly said. She smiled and gestured for him to come in.

He tried to speak, but words seemed to have temporarily failed him. Instead, he held out the gift to her.

Molly took it and said, “Thank you very much dear. Do come in. There’s plenty to eat and drink.”

He stepped forward gingerly, and as he did so, the music and din of the gathering resumed. Looking like he could use a tot, he gratefully allowed the party to wash over him. He found a dim corner and tried his very best to blend into the scenery.

He wasn’t sure why he was there. He thought his world had turned upside down at the end of sixth year. That was nothing compared to how things had been since the final moments of the Battle of Hogwarts. His whole life he’d been groomed to serve the Dark Lord, and only weeks ago he found himself playing a fairly major role in his demise. On top of that, he was starting to have a bothersome attack of conscience regarding his treatment of pretty much everyone during the last seven years.

He knew in his head that he’d redeemed himself. However, it was at the eleventh hour and it didn’t seem like enough. He didn’t know where to start, and was angry about the confusing emotions coursing through him. He didn’t want to be good. He didn’t want to be sorry. Or did he? Damn it all! he thought, I’m leaving.

“You were awful to my friends.” Luna appeared next to him and held out a glass of a thick, cream colored liquid. A bit stunned, he took it as she continued, “But I believe in redemption. And the war was a great equalizer. In the end, you chose the right side. Cheers!” She raised her glass, while he looked at his dubiously. “Go on, it’s got loads of Ogden’s in it.”

He held it to his nose and sniffed. Sure enough, the distinctive tang of Ogden’s Firewhisky assaulted him. “What is it?”

“I believe Hermione called it, ‘egg-nog.’ It’s a muggle Christmas drink, and an American one, at that.”

At the word, “muggle,” he almost made a snide remark. A lifetime habit was hard to break. However, he managed to stop himself and instead simply said, “Fascinating.” He took a tiny sip, and to his surprise, somewhat enjoyed it. There was a part of him that couldn’t help but still be revolted by anything muggle, American, and worse, something Granger probably had something to do with. However, the drink was smooth and creamy and sweet, a wonderful contrast with the comforting Ogden’s sliding hotly down his throat.

Luna smiled. “It was brave of you to come.”

Before Draco could reply, Luna drifted off back into the fray. As he watched her go, he noticed she seemed to be looking intently at something across the room. He followed her gaze. Ron Weasley? This could get interesting. Wonder if Granger realizes.

Next to the Christmas tree, George was holding Teddy, telling him a story. “…and every time a bell tolls, a squib gets his magic!”

Hermione rolled her eyes, laughing. “No George! It’s, ‘Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings!”

George shrugged, mock offended. “Have it your way.”

Ron smirked. “She always does! Ow!” Hermione playfully slugged him in the arm.

George jiggled a giggling Teddy. “You tell it your way Hermione, and I’ll tell it mine. Teddy seems to like it!”

Laughter and music flowed through the night, accompanied by plenty of food and drink. The party was festive and cheery, and showed no signs of stopping when somewhere, a clock began to strike midnight.

“That’s weird,” Charlie said. “When did mum and dad get a normal clock?”

“We didn’t,” answered Arthur. “Where is that coming from?”

Everyone started looking for the source of the gongs.

“Anyone see Luna lately?” Neville asked.

When no one answered, Harry and Ron realized they hadn’t seen Ginny and Hermione in a while.

“Even girls don’t take that long in the bathroom, do they?” Ron asked.

Harry shrugged, but was starting to get a little concerned.

As the final gong sounded, Molly screamed, pointing to the Weasley family clock. Two names had been added next to Ginny’s: Hermione and Luna. All three were pointing to, “Mortal Peril.”

A/N: Seasons greetings everyone! I can’t believe two years have gone by since I first posted this story; however, it’s always been close to my heart. Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed (or even just read) the first chapter! I hope you enjoy the rest!

A very special Christmastime hug goes to my dear friend, Janie! XOXO!

Chapter Two – A Quest Is Given

There should have been pandemonium and chaos. There should have been noise and a rush of activity. There should have been, at the very least, a collective intake of breath, a gasp, a reaction from everyone there.

Instead there was silence.

Everyone – and everything – was frozen in place. Molly was still pointing at the Weasley family clock, the aftermath of her scream etched in her face. Victoire’s tiny fists were stopped in mid air, her face screwed up in a now silent wail. Teddy’s hair was half fuchsia, half chartreuse, caught in the middle of a morph. Every guest at the party was a statue, frozen in the process of turning to look in the direction of Molly’s scream.

Even the fire in the hearth was no longer crackling, but instead was motionless like a muggle photograph.

Harry’s and Ron’s eyes were fixed on the hands of the Weasley family clock, as Ginny’s pointed to “Mortal Peril,” with Hermione’s and Luna’s names glimmering dully on either side of hers. In the back of the room, a third pair of eyes was also fixed on the clock. Draco Malfoy might have been embarrassed to know a look of genuine concern marked his face.

The frozen flames in the hearth flared into life, turning emerald green. Argus Filch stepped out of the Weasley’s fireplace and into the Burrow’s magically expanded lounge. His squinty eyes scanned the room. When he found what he was looking for, he started the somewhat arduous process of picking his way through the crowd. The stock still guests were hard and unyielding like statues. He had to climb over and around several people, and nearly knocked over Mrs. Longbottom before reaching his target.

Malfoy started at the hard jab to his shoulder. “What the – Filch?” He quickly glanced around the room, a look of consternation marring his features.

“Don’t worry about this lot,” Filch waved his hand dismissively. “What you need to worry about is you,” he poked his finger at Draco’s chest. “Should be easy enough. You’ve had loads of practice.”

The words stung Malfoy. “You insolent –” He bit off his retort. There were more pressing matters. “Where are Weasley, Lovegood, and Granger?”

Filch grinned, showing a shockingly poor collection of teeth. “If I just told you, where’d be the fun in that?”

Draco clenched his jaw. “What do you want, Filch?”

Filch shrugged casually. “This isn’t about what I want.” Not exactly true, Filch told himself. “If you want to see your friends again, you need to come with me.”

Draco pulled out his wand and aimed it at Filch. “If you’ve hurt any of them –”

Filch laughed. “Little ol’ me hurt the likes of Weasley, Granger, and Lovegood? You flatter me, m’lord.” He sketched a mockery of a bow.

When he came up from the bow, Filch and Malfoy were standing on the lawn at Hogwart’s.

“What the bloody hell –”

Filch laughed. “Confused, are we?”

Malfoy looked around. “We can’t really be here.”

“Yes, yes. No apparating in and out of Hogwart’s. Aren’t you bright.”

“This isn’t real then.” But the sunlight was bright in Malfoy’s eyes, and he was almost hit by a speeding broom flown by a young wizard. Regaining his composure, he shaded his eyes, and before him appeared… Harry Potter?

What IS this? Malfoy wondered. He saw an eleven-year-old Harry glide to a halt, remembrall in hand, next to a gaggle of first years at their flying lesson. Not far away was an eleven-year-old Neville, rolling on the ground in pain, cradling his injured arm.

Malfoy saw his eleven-year-old self doubled over with laughter at Neville’s suffering. He cringed a bit at the sight.

Filch noted Draco’s discomfort. “Maybe you’ll feel a bit more comfortable here,” Filch waved his arm.

Draco looked around, finding himself in the drawing room in Malfoy Manor. He watched as Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger were paraded in by Fenrir Greyback. Harry’s face was hideously deformed by the jinx Hermione performed in a quick attempt to disguise him. Draco saw himself squirming as his father prodded him to identify Harry. He had tried the best he could not to give Harry and his friends away.

Filch watched Draco. “Tried to help them, did you?”

“Fat lot of good it did,” he replied.

“They escaped, didn’t they?”

Draco shook his head. “Yes, but –”

“You bought them time,” Filch said. “That’s the best you could have done.” He waved his hand, and abruptly they were at the top of the Astronomy Tower .

“No!” shouted Draco.

“I’ll agree it’s a bit out of order, time wise,” said Filch. “But I saved the most important thing for last.”

Draco watched, horrified because he knew what was coming. He saw himself disarm Dumbledore, then watched as Professor Snape killed him.

“What is the meaning of this, Filch?” Anger, confusion, and shame all roiled within him. “Why are you showing me these things?” And how? The question surfaced in Draco’s mind for an instant, then vanished amidst the turmoil of his emotions.

Filch looked at him. “You’re not a killer. You have, however, been a git. But the things you’ve done made a good difference. Your stunt with the remembrall got Harry on the Quidditch team, which ended up helping him find the Philosopher’s Stone and defeat You Know Who the first time.”

“What?”

Filch went on. “You tried not to identify Potter and Granger, and that helped them escape. The most important thing though, was disarming Professor Dumbledore up on the tower. You became master of the Elder Wand then and that was the key to bringing down the Dark Lord.”

Draco’s head was spinning. How does Filch know all this? How are we even here? What does it all mean? “Is this some sort of bizarre object lesson?”

Filch smacked his forehead. “Blimey, if you’re not a complete dullard! You’re supposed to figure it out on your own. Think!”

Draco rolled the events over in his mind, along with Filch’s explanation. A dawning realization crept into his thoughts.

“I’m a decent person?” He spoke in both wonderment and incredulity. He could not quite believe the words he’d just heard himself utter.

Filch rolled his eyes. What he wanted to say was, “Feeling better about ourselves now, are we?” but he settled on a simple, “Yeah, something like that.”

Draco was still reeling from his journey into his past, and the implications for his future. He tried to focus. “Where are Ginny, Luna, and Hermione? What does any of this have to do with them?”

“You have a quest,” Filch answered.

Over Draco’s perplexed look, Filch drew out of piece of parchment from his tatty coat and began to read:

Three maidens fair lie in the snow,

Their robes of deepest indigo.

The hair of one as bright as flame,

The second an unruly mane,

The third as pale

As a full moon,

These ladies three

Need rescue soon.

Enchanted sleep

Has stilled their breath,

Their skin as pale

And cold as death.

What could make them breathe once more?

What could make them whole and warm?

A quest for three young wizards brave,

They must complete by Christmas day.

The task for the brave wizard first

Is to find something of worth.

It cannot be bought or stolen or made.

It must something someone gave.

A test of character must be passed,

And for reward you must not ask.”

Filch looked up from the parchment. “You got ‘til sunrise.”

“But how am I supposed to – ”

A scream echoed behind Draco. He whirled around to see a cluster of people down a dimly lit close. He turned back to Filch who was gone, leaving Malfoy alone on a dark, deserted street corner, Merlin-knew-where. Draco drew his wand and made his way toward the source of the scream.

Chapter Three – A Journey Begins

With a cough and a puff of ash, Filch once again stepped out of the Weasley’s fireplace and into the Burrow’s lounge. Again he made the trip across the room full of frozen party goers, this time knocking Mrs. Longbottom completely over. Swearing under his breath, Filch righted her before making his way to his next target.

“Oi!” Ron jerked back at Filch’s jabbing finger. “What do you want?” He whipped around, taking in the scene of petrified party guests. “What’s going on? Where’s my sister and Luna and Hermione? Harry!” Ron was quite unnerved at the realization that Harry was frozen, too.

“Ronald Weasley, you’re coming with me,” Filch said.

Ron drew his wand. “Not without Harry. Not before you explain what the hell’s going on!”

Filch held up his hands. “If you want to see your sister and your little girlfriends again, you’ll put that thing down and come with me.”

“Oh really, Mister Filch. I do think the boy deserves at least a little explanation,” a translucent figure appeared beside Filch.

“Nearly Headless Nick?” Ron was thoroughly confused. “What are you doing here?”

Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington sniffed. “Well, that’s gratitude for you.” He looked at Ron. “First, you could at least address me as, ‘Sir Nick,’ and second, am I not welcome in the Weasley home?”

Ron gaped, trying to make sense of the situation.

“Nevermind,” Sir Nick went on. “Mister Filch, I do think I can take it from here.”

“Fine by me,” Filch said. “Got things to do, anyway.” He walked over to the fireplace, threw a handful of floo powder in, and said something Ron couldn’t make out before disappearing in a swirl of green flame.

Sir Nick straightened his ruff. “Now then! I do hope you won’t object to coming with me, good sir.”

Ron lowered his wand, but did not put it away. “I do hope you’re going to tell me what’s going on!”

“All in good time, my lad!” Sir Nick started to reach for Ron’s arm.

“Are my sister and Hermione and Luna okay?”

“I’m sure they will be. Now come along –”

“The hands on the clock say, ‘Mortal Peril’!”

“Yes, they do. Which is why we must be leaving straight –”

“What about Harry?”

Sir Nick took a deep breath. “You know, you can be quite exasperating.”

Before Ron could argue, he felt a blast of ice cold air hit his arm. “Hey!”

“We’re here!” Sir Nick announced a moment later.

It took a couple of seconds for Ron to orient himself. “We’re on the Hogwart’s Express?” Ron stared in disbelief as the green, rolling countryside flew by.

“Well, yes… in a manner of speaking,” Sir Nick stroked his chin. “But what I meant was – ”

The train lurched around a curve flinging Ron through the door of the closest compartment. “Hey!” Ron righted himself, and looking around was stunned to see himself, Harry, and Hermione – all eleven years old! – sitting in the compartment. Ron turned to Nick. “What’s going on?”

“What I was going to say before I was so rudely interrupted, was that we’re not so much where as when. See, I’m to take you on a little tour…”

Ron waved his hands in front of the eleven-year-old trio. Nothing happened.

Sir Nick continued. “Ever looked into a Pensieve?”

“No, but Harry’s told me about them. They hold memories, so you can look at them, right?”

Sir Nick nodded. The motion resulted in his head bobbling, and nearly tipping off. Sir Nick steadied his head, cleared his throat, and continued. “Yes, something like that. There are some things you need to see.”

Ron watched as eleven-year-old Hermione criticized his color-changing spell and informed him he had a smudge on his nose. He watched from their first year on, a seemingly endless parade of every snipe, every episode of bickering, every fight, every instance they weren’t speaking to each other.

The slide show of memories didn’t take very long, but the experience left Ron oddly spent and drained. He felt like he’d just relived the last seven years in emotional fast forward. He wasn’t sure what to say, and for several long minutes he just sat as the Hogwart’s Express chugged on.

Finally Ron spoke. “Yeah we fought a lot, but I was a complete git! Hermione and I are together now, and we’re happy,” he stood up. “And we’re wasting time! How is this helping Hermione and Ginny and Luna? Where are they?”

Sir Nick took a long look at Ron. He nodded, as if in answer to a comment Ron could not hear. “Right, then. Only you can know your heart, and you’re going to need to know it well before this night is through.” Nick reached into his cloak and pulled out a scroll of parchment. “Listen closely Ronald Weasley, for you are being given a Quest.” Sir Nick unfurled the scroll and began to read:

“Three maidens fair lie in the snow,

Their robes of deepest indigo.

The hair of one as bright as flame,

The second an unruly mane,

The third as pale

As a full moon,

These ladies three

Need rescue soon.

Enchanted sleep

Has stilled their breath,

Their skin as pale

And cold as death.

What could make them breathe once more?

What could make them whole and warm?

A quest for three young wizards brave,

They must complete by Christmas day.

The task for the brave wizard now

Is not the what, but is the how.

A leap of faith that must be made,

Else heart and dreams rest in the grave.

A wizard must choose well and soon,

If he is to reach the moon.”

Sir Nick started to roll up the parchment.

“Three wizards? Who are the other two? Is it Harry? Who else then? What’s all this lunacy about the moon? How do I start? Where do I go?” Ron’s head was spinning, his heart racing.

Sir Nick put the neatly rolled parchment back into his cloak and gestured to the door. “Get off the train.”

Ron looked and realized the Express had come to a stop. The door opened; the steps leading out of the train disappeared into thick fog. “I can’t see a thing!”

“Ah, the first leap of faith, perhaps?” Sir Nick smiled.

“First?” Ron pulled out his wand and squared his shoulders as he took the first step.

A/N: I hope everyone had a very merry Christmas! In case I don’t update before the 31^st, here’s wishing you all a very happy New Year!

~~~~~~~

Chapter Four – A Visit From An Old Friend

A soft pop! broke the silence in the Burrow’s lounge. A moment later, a frozen Harry started into life. Wand instantly out, Harry whirled around at once taking in the scene before him. A familiar, high-pitched voice said, “Harry Potter!”

“Dobby?!” Harry looked down to see the dear house elf standing before him. Tears filled Harry’s eyes as he bent down to scoop Dobby up in a fierce hug – only to close his arms around thin air. Harry tried again. “Dobby! What’s happening? How – ” Harry’s breath caught in his throat. “I’ve missed you so much!”

“Dobby’s missed Harry Potter too, sir. Very much!” The house elf’s eyes were bright. Dobby raised his arms without thinking, but then shook his head and dropped them. “Dobby’s here in spirit only, sir.”

Harry took a good look at Dobby, who was outfitted in his favorite tea cozy hat, and multiple pairs of mismatched socks. Harry realized that while at first glance Dobby looked normal, he was ever so slightly transparent with a faint golden glow surrounding him.

Harry thought his heart would burst.

“Don’t be sad, Harry Potter. Dobby’s here to help!”

Harry couldn’t help but smile just a little. “Help me do what, Dobby? Do you know what’s going on? Do you know where my friends are?”

“Don’t you worry about your Wheezy, sir! He’ll be just fine.”

“And what about Hermione, Ginny, and Luna? They’re in danger?”

“That’s why Dobby’s here, sir. Dobby has a message.” Dobby began speaking, reciting by memory,

“Three maidens fair lie in the snow,

Their robes of deepest indigo.

The hair of one as bright as flame,

The second an unruly mane,

The third as pale

As a full moon,

These ladies three

Need rescue soon.

Enchanted sleep

Has stilled their breath,

Their skin as pale

And cold as death.

What could make them breathe once more?

What could make them whole and warm?

A quest for three young wizards brave,

They must complete by Christmas day.

Wizard of heart so brave and true,

Life has asked so much of you.

Now the time has come to be,

Not to give but to receive.

If you wish to win the day,

You must be the one who’s saved.”

“Dobby, that doesn’t make any sense. Who sent the message? Who are the other two wizards? How am I supposed to find Hermione and Ginny and Luna?”

Dobby looked down. “Dobby’s bound to secrecy and he can’t say who sent the message. But,” he looked up hopefully, “Dobby can tell Harry Potter that his Wheezy should be safe,”

“Should be?” Harry interrupted. “And the hands on the clock say – ”

“Dobby knows, sir. And –”

“What about everyone here? Why are they frozen?”

“Harry Potter, always so great and kind! Thinks of everyone else first!” Dobby beamed with admiration as Harry’s face flushed with embarrassment.

“I can’t just sit and twiddle my thumbs when my friends need me, Dobby.”

Dobby nodded vigorously. “Dobby knows, sir. Which is why Harry Potter must listen close to Dobby, and do what Dobby asks!”

“Of course, Dobby. Anything!”

Dobby began to move toward the fireplace. “Follow me, sir.”

It took a couple of moments of maneuvering around everyone, but soon Harry and Dobby stood in front of the frozen flames. Dobby took something out of his pocket, threw it into the fire, and said something Harry couldn’t quite make out. The flames roared into life, but instead of turning green they turned silver, shimmering and sparkling with whatever it was Dobby had thrown in.

“Hurry, sir!” Dobby held out his hand.

Harry took it, and found himself not only spinning in the floo, but also feeling the unpleasant squeezing sensation he felt when apparating.

It was over almost as soon as it had begun.

Harry stumbled a little as he exited into an unfamiliar room. “Dobby?” Harry looked around, but the house elf was nowhere to be seen. “Dobby, please. Come back!” But the only sound was the crackling of the now maddeningly normal fire burning in the hearth. Harry’s heart ached. He couldn’t believe he was reunited with Dobby, only to have him gone again so soon. Harry did his best to set that aside and focus on his new surroundings.

He was in what looked like a cozy lounge, but there was something vaguely cold and lonely about it that he couldn’t put his finger on. It was awfully quiet, and though it seemed like no one was home, Harry called out, “Hello?” When there was no answer, he began to explore the room more closely.

There were wizard photos on the mantle above the fireplace. Harry was about to move on when something in one of them caught his eye. What the…? It was the photo of his mum and dad Hagrid had given him. Harry picked it up and looked at his parents’ smiling faces.

Stunned, he set the photo back down and realized he recognized many of the others. There were photos of himself and Ron and Hermione. There were also photographs he didn’t recognize, but he knew the people in them. Many of those were photos of himself and Ginny. They were in places he knew they’d never been before. What’s more, when he looked very closely, it seemed he and Ginny looked a few years older.

The flames in the hearth suddenly turned green. Harry jumped back as someone emerged from the fireplace, and walked straight through Harry. Startled, Harry turned around and saw… himself. “Hello!” Harry called, but there was no response. The Harry he saw enter the lounge simply brushed himself off, continued through the lounge and into the next room.

Wand out, Harry followed.

Both Harrys were now in the kitchen. In the brighter light, Harry could see that his other self was indeed several years older. He watched as his older self poured a shot of Ogden’s, downed it, and poured another. This one he took along as he went back into the lounge and plopped into an overstuffed chair.

“What’s going on?” Harry wondered as he lowered his wand. He hadn’t gone into a pensieve, although this seemed very similar. His older self didn’t know he was there, but this couldn’t be a memory. Harry watched as older Harry picked up an issue of the Daily Prophet. Harry read the date on the front page, June 21, 2017. 2017?!

This is the future? Harry wondered.

Just then, there was a loud rapping on the window. A small, fluffy puff of feathers hovered at the window with an envelope clutched in its beak. Pigwidgeon?

Older Harry sighed, put down the Prophet, and got up and opened the window. The hyperactive owl came in, did a quick loop, then dropped the envelope he had been carrying into Harry’s hand. “Thanks, PigToo.” He absentmindedly handed the little owl an owl treat, which PigToo happily gulped down before fluttering onto a post next to the window.

Older Harry opened the envelope, pulling out a letter. Harry maneuvered himself so he could read over his shoulder.

Harry,

I’m so sorry. I wish I knew what to say, but it seems we’ve said it all, haven’t we? I’ve decided to stay at the Burrow for now. I’ll be sending Ron along for some of my things.

I tried. Really, I did.

Ginny

Older Harry let the letter fall as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “And on our anniversary, too,” older Harry muttered.

Merlin, Harry thought. I can’t believe it…

There was a knock at the door. “Come in.”

“Hey mate,” an older-looking Ron said as he walked into the lounge. “You got Ginny’s owl, then?”

Older Harry nodded morosely.

“Look, you’re my best mate, but she’s my sister.”

Older Harry shrugged. “Yeah, of course.”

“I’m really sorry.”

Older Harry let out a mirthless laugh. “Been hearing that a lot, lately.”

Ron looked distinctly uncomfortable. “I’ll only be a moment, then why don’t we go over to the Iron Cauldron and knock back a few?”

“Sure, why not.”

A few minutes later Ron had Ginny’s things sorted, and he and Older Harry were headed out.

What do I do, now? Harry thought.

The sound of soft hooting made Harry turn toward the window. PigToo fluttered around his perch, then landed and stuck out his leg. Harry hadn’t noticed before, but there was a message tied to PigToo’s leg. Harry untied it and opened it. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought the hand writing was very familiar. As he read it, the ink shimmered a faint blue.

Harry,

As you may have guessed, what you have just seen is a glimpse of the future. However, the future is not set in stone. You have a chance now to choose a different path, and in doing so save both your friends and yourself.

You must choose, and have that choice strong and clear in your mind. When you do, take this letter and throw it into the fire. The flames will turn blue, and take you where you need to be. Do NOT step into the fire until you are sure.

The note was unsigned.

As if I could choose to not save my friends! Harry thought.

He strode to the hearth and threw in the letter. He stepped into the sapphire flames and began to spin.

A/N: Happy New Year’s everyone! Here’s wishing you all a happy, healthy, prosperous 2010!

~~~~~~~

Chapter Five

Argus Filch, Sir Nick, and Dobby stood before Albus Dumbledore’s portrait.

“I trust all is going to plan?” the former headmaster asked.

“Got Malfoy underway,” said Filch.

“I am pleased to announce young Weasley has taken the first step upon his noble quest,” Sir Nick doffed his hat and bowed, carefully holding his head in place as he did so.

Dumbledore suppressed a quiet chuckle at the sight, then turned his attention to the house elf. “And my dear Dobby, what of Harry?”

“Harry Potter is where he needs to be, sir.” He paused. “It was quite wonderful to see him again.” Dobby looked down, his bat-like ears drooping. “If only Dobby could have said a proper goodbye to Harry Potter…”

Dumbledore nodded. “I understand, Dobby. I am truly grateful for your service on this Christmas Eve, and the night is not yet over. Perhaps…”

Dobby looked up, his eyes filled with hope.

Dumbledore smiled.

“Now I would ask you three keep careful watch of your charges. There is still much that could go awry. Inform me when the next stage has been completed.”

With that, Filch walked out of the office, Sir Nick simply disappeared, and Dobby vanished with a soft, pop!

“I still think you’re going to great lengths and calling in dearly won favors all for a trifle,” said a surly voice from a nearby portrait.

“You’re ever the romantic Phineus, ever the romantic,” Dumbledore chuckled.

~~~~~~~

Silver light streamed from a full moon onto the snow covered clearing below. The surrounding pine forest glittered with frost under a sky littered with stars.

In the center of the clearing were three biers.

Ginny, Luna, and Hermione lay silent and still in enchanted sleep, each one on their own bier. They wore long, medieval style robes in deep blue velvet, each with a long belt encircling their waist; copper for Ginny, silver for Luna, and gold for Hermione.

Out of the clear night sky a single perfect snowflake drifted down to Ginny’s cheek, brushing it like a soft kiss.

~~~~~~~

(From Chapter Two)

A scream echoed behind Draco. He whirled around to see a cluster of people down a dimly lit close. He turned back to Filch who was gone, leaving Malfoy alone on a dark, deserted street corner, Merlin-knew-where. Draco drew his wand and made his way toward the source of the scream.

Draco’s Quest Begins

The early dark of winter had set in. Occasional flakes of snow flitted through pools of light cast by street lamps, before disappearing against the close’s brick walls. There were several cloaked and hooded figures in a knot a little way down the close. The muted sounds of a struggle echoed alongside muted sounds of laughter.

As Draco watched, the source of the sounds became apparent. There were three wizards, dressed head to toe in black hooded cloaks taunting what appeared to be a muggle couple.

“We’ll give you whatever you want, just leave us be,” the muggle man said. He held out his wallet.

Wand out, Draco crept quietly toward the wizards and muggles. He was close enough to hear what they were saying, but could not see the wizards’ faces beneath their cowled hoods.

One of the wizards laughed. “Your muggle money is worthless to us!”

Another wizard moved closer to the muggle lady. As she shrank against the wall, something glittered around her throat in the lamplight. It caught the wizard’s eye. “What have we got here?” He used his wand to lift a necklace away from her skin. It was beautiful. It seemed to be made entirely of diamonds, except for an exquisite sprig of holly at the center, made of emerald and ruby. It shimmered almost as if it were alive. Draco had the fleeting thought that it seemed to be enchanted, but that seemed highly unlikely considering it was in the possession of muggles.

“Please,” the lady said. “Not the necklace!”

“Fine by me,” the wizard said, sliding the point of his wand down her chest. “What we really want is just a little fun.”

In one movement, the muggle man stepped in front of the lady and decked the offending wizard, who was caught off guard and stumbled backward to the ground.

“Petrificus Totalus!”

Draco couldn’t see where the body bind spell came from, but he saw the muggle man go rigid. The muggle lady screamed. The wizard who had fallen picked himself up, his wand out. He traced its tip down the lady’s cheek. His voice was menacing. “Now no one will interrupt.”

“Stupefy! Impedimenta!” Draco caught two of the wizards off guard, stunning the lady’s assailant, and stopping the wizard next to him.

“Crucio!” The third wizard’s curse missed Draco by inches, but hit the muggle lady. She crumpled to the ground writhing and gasping in pain.

Draco aimed his wand at her, “Protego!” He hoped the spell would keep her safe from further magical attack. Draco turned his attention to the remaining wizard. “Leave these muggles alone.”

The wizard laughed. Something about him was oddly familiar. “Oh, the great Draco Malfoy, muggle defender! You’re pathetic! Your father would disown you!”

The wizard’s voice was uncomfortably familiar now. Draco knew that voice. “Reveal yourself!” he demanded.

The wizard laughed again, raising his wand with lightening speed. “Sectumsempra!”

Draco dodged, but the spell grazed his cheek. A thin line of blood appeared. “Expelliarmus!”

The wizard’s wand flew out of his hand. “You’ve been spending too much time with Potter! Using his signature spell now, are you?”

Draco’s blood was beginning to boil.

“You know, I never would have thought you’d object to a little harmless muggle-baiting,” the wizard drawled. “And I really never thought you’d lower yourself to associate with Potter, let alone start adopting his style.”

Draco seethed. “Enough! Mobilicuculla!” The wizard’s hood flew back. Seeing the wizard’s face was like a swift punch to the stomach. Draco shook his head. “It can’t be!” His head was swimming; his ears ringing.

It was like looking in a mirror – a horrible, sneering mirror. The wizard before him was Draco Malfoy. He ginned. “I’m you. You’re me.” He paused. “Well, I’m the Draco you used to be. All this wimpy, muggle-loving nonsense –”

“Avada Kadavra!” Green light shot from the end of Draco’s wand hitting dark wizard Malfoy square in the chest.

It was difficult to tell which Malfoy was more surprised. Draco stared at his wand as if he’d never seen it before, stunned by the suddenness and ferocity of his reaction. Dark wizard Malfoy’s face was frozen in an expression of shock. But instead of simply falling to the ground, he evaporated into fog-like wisps which disappeared into the night. Draco felt as though some hideous specter had been exorcised, and was relieved to see the wizard vanish.

Still extremely shaken, and not knowing what else to do, Draco turned and released the muggle man from the body bind curse, and checked to see if the muggle lady was alright. The man was at the lady’s side before Draco had finished helping her to her feet. Draco stepped back as the two grasped each other in a fierce embrace. They kissed, comforting one another with murmured words and soft touches. A few moments later, they seemed to remember Draco. Turning to him, the man shook his hand, while the lady caught him in a tight hug.

“Thank you so much!” she said.

“We owe you our lives,” the man said.

Draco, still reeling from the encounter with the specter of his evil self was now looking at the couple. He shrugged awkwardly. “It’s what any decent person would have done.”

The man shook his head. “No, it’s not. Those were very dangerous men; no ordinary street thugs.”

Draco hesitated. It hit him these two muggles had witnessed at least half a dozen spells, yet didn’t seem fazed in the slightest. He searched their faces. “How –”

“We’re squibs.” The woman smiled.

Draco relaxed just a moment, but, “Then you know this is not a good place for –” he hesitated. He didn’t want to say, people like you, but they sensed his meaning.

“Our car broke down,” the man said. “Not like we can just apparate,” he said with a wry smile. “They accosted us as we were going for help.”

The light caught the lady’s necklace again, drawing Draco’s eye. The lady saw him looking at it. “It’s enchanted,” she smiled.

Draco nodded and couldn’t help but smile back. These seemed like such decent people. Pity they’re squibs, he thought.

The man and woman looked at each other. Some sort of wordless exchange passed between them. The man nodded and the woman smiled. She turned to Draco. “Just because we’re squibs, it doesn’t mean we’re bereft of magic.” The man unfastened her necklace. She took it off and placed it in Draco’s hand. “This is yours now.”

“No, I couldn’t possibly –” The necklace felt warm but light in his palm. It glimmered and glowed, radiating an unfamiliar and odd, yet very enjoyable feeling.

The lady watched him, beaming. “This was meant to be. The necklace is meant to pass through the family, though it chooses who and when.”

“But,” Draco began to protest.

“Abraxas Malfoy,” the man said. “He’s my grandfather, too.”

Draco was just now beginning to notice the man’s light eyes and hair, and how maybe, just in the cheek bones… “How is that possible?”

The man grinned. “Apparently Abraxas had a bit of a secret fetish for muggles. He had a daughter with my grandmother, Lorena Goodspeed, who was an actress in the West End. He never knew. The affair was, ‘One night only!’ as my grandma would joke. She knew he was different, but didn’t know just how different until her baby girl started doing odd things. It all made sense when the letter from Hogwarts came.”

The lady said, “I have magic on my side of the family, as well. Unfortunately, it just never manifested in us. However, not all magic is about potions and spells.” She smiled again.

“This necklace was mine to give,” said the man. He gave the woman a loving look, which she returned.

“Then it was mine.” The lady touched Draco on the arm. “And now it’s yours. You’ll know when the time is right, who the special lady will be to wear it next.”

Draco looked down at the necklace in his hand. It was curled up, and for all the world made him think of a softly purring cat. “Thank you,” he said.

When he looked up, the couple was gone.