Through the years we all will be together
If the fates allow
Hang a shining star upon the highest bough
And have yourself a merry little Christmas now

"Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas"
Judy Garland

HARRY:

I found myself awoken far earlier than I would have liked on Christmas morning when Hermione entered our dormitory and opened the curtains with a loud "Wake up!"

Ron put his pillow over his face to block the glare. "Hermione, you're not supposed to be in here!" he said, his voice muffled.

She chucked his present at him. "Merry Christmas to you, too. I've been up for nearly an hour, adding more lacewings to the potion. It's ready."

I sat up and threw my glasses on. "Are you sure?"

Hermione nodded as she perched herself on Ron's bed. "Positive. If we're going to do it, I say it should be tonight."

Hedwig flew in the window and deposited a small gift in my hand. "Hello! Are you speaking to me again?"

She nipped at my ear, as if to say "Yes." I unwrapped the package, which was a toothpick.

Ron wrinkled his nose. "Who sent you that?"

I read the note attached to it out loud. "See if you can stay at school for summer too. Sincerely, the Dursleys"

"How terrible!" Hermione exclaimed.

I shrugged. "That's almost kind for them. The 'sincerely' is a nice touch."

Before either of them could say anything else, a large brown owl swooped into the room, bearing three gifts wrapped in the same red and white paper.

"Malachi!" Ron exclaimed.

"Whose owl is that?" I asked, taking the gift with my name on it from its talons.

"Lucy's," he said, scratching the owl affectionately behind the ears. "You've had a long journey, haven't you?"

The owl pecked at Ron's hand and shook its feathers free of snow before flying out the window to the Owlery.

"Might as well open these all at the same time, eh?" I asked. They nodded, and we tore into the wrapping paper. We all received identical boxes of fudge, with small notes tucked inside.

Hermione read hers aloud first. "Dear Hermione (and presumably the boys as well, though they have their own notes), merry Christmas! I miss you all very much already, but I'm glad Cedric and I were able to come home. Cedric has been in higher spirits; so high, in fact, we spent nearly eight hours together just the two of us in the kitchen yesterday making this peppermint fudge for everyone and singing Christmas carols at the top of our lungs the entire time. I don't think Tuck was particularly fond of my singing, the way Fluffy was, but what can I say? Everyone's a critic. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, and please be careful with you-know-what. Please send me a letter as soon as you can about how it goes. Merry Christmas again, and see you soon!"

"Who's Tuck?" I asked. "Does she have another brother?"

Hermione giggled. "No, Tuck's her dog. Oh, look, she sent a picture!"

She held up a small photograph of a black and white dog with a forked tail running in circles around the edges of the frame. I could see Cedric's hands reaching forward trying to put a Santa hat on him, but the dog refused to be caught. I laughed and read my own letter silently as Hermione and Ron began opening their next gifts. It read:

Dear Harry,
   Merry Christmas! I'm hoping Hermione read her letter aloud so you know what's in the box.
   I wanted you to know that I've been reading the ancient runes book again, looking for anything I can find about the Chamber of Secrets. I haven't come across anything of note yet, but as soon as I do, I'll let you know. I asked my dad at dinner last night if he knew anything about the monster that might be in the Chamber, but he couldn't give me a concrete answer --- he said no one has any idea what might be down there. He seemed extremely nervous, though, so it's possible he's lying; he's always been an awful liar. When I asked about the spiders, he merely shrugged and said it was a funny coincidence. I disagree, personally, but my dad is the magical creatures expert so make of that what you will. I've wondered if maybe there's an acromantula down there, but they are native to southeast Asian rainforests, so it would seem unlikely that Salazar Slytherin managed to come across one more than a thousand years ago. The first European sighting was in 1794.
   But anyway, Harry, be safe and try to stay out of trouble without me, okay? I'll write if I learn anything new about the Chamber of Secrets. Please make sure Hermione never walks the halls alone. I worry for her.
      Sincerely, Lucy Diggory

I reached into the box and tried a bite of fudge while I processed her letter. I soon forgot all about the letter, though; the fudge was that delicious.

Without Lucy and Cedric, the twins saw no reason to have a snowball fight, but they entertained themselves by changing the text on Percy's badge to say "Pinhead" rather than "Prefect." He didn't notice, but he did ask several times why we all kept laughing at him. Ron and I played a fair amount of wizard's chess while Hermione put the finishing touches on the potion. He won, as always, but we both found it hard to focus in the light of knowing we'd be taking Polyjuice Potion that night.

That dread evaporated with the Christmas feast, however. We ate and laughed freely. It was impossible to be anything but joyful on Christmas day at Hogwarts.

Hermione dragged us out of the Great Hall after our third round of pudding, already talking a mile a minute as she was prone to do when she was anxious. "We still need a bit of the people you're changing into, and obviously, it'll be best if you can get something of Crabbe's and Goyle's; they're Malfoy's best friends, he'll tell them anything. And we also need to make sure the real Crabbe and Goyle can't burst in on us while we're interrogating him. I've got it all worked out." She held up two chocolate cakes proudly. "I've filled these with a simple Sleeping Draught. All you have to do is make sure Crabbe and Goyle find them. You know how greedy they are, they're bound to eat them. Once they're asleep, pull out a few of their hairs and hide them in a broom closet."

Ron and I exchanged an uncertain glance.

"Hermione, I don't think... that could go seriously wrong..."

She glared at us. "The potion will be useless without Crabbe's and Goyle's hair. You do want to investigate Malfoy, don't you?"

I sighed. "Oh, all right, all right, but what about you? Whose hair are you ripping out?"

She drew a small jar from her pocket and held up the single hair inside of it. "I've already got mine! Remember Millicent Bulstrode wrestling with me at the Dueling Club? She left this on my robes when she was trying to strangle me! And she's gone home for Christmas, so I'll just have to tell the Slytherins I've decided to come back." With that, she rushed away.

Ron turned to me. "Have you ever heard of a plan where so many things could go wrong?" he moaned.

I sighed again. "We have no other choice."

"I wish Lucy was here," Ron muttered as we followed Hermione. "She's the only one who can talk any sense into Hermione."

"Well, now it's up to us to make sure we have plenty of information to tell her when she comes back," I said, straightening my robes. Little did I know how disastrous the night would become.

It started well enough. Crabbe and Goyle both ate the cakes without a second thought. We returned to Hermione with their hairs and their shoes, and we each took our glass of potion. When Hermione dropped Millicent's hair into the potion, it turned the color of yellow vomit.

Ron wrinkled his nose in revulsion. "Essence of Millicent Bulstrode. Bet it tastes disgusting."

"Add yours," she said, nodding to the two of us. Goyle's hair turned my potion the color of a booger, and Crabbe's hair turned Ron's potion the color of mud.

A thought occurred to me right before we took sips. "Hang on, we'd better not all drink them in here. Once we turn into Crabbe and Goyle, we won't fit. And Millicent Bulstrode's no pixie."

Ron nodded. "Good thinking."

We all filed into separate stalls, and I began the countdown. "Three... two... one!"

I don't know what I was expecting, but the sensation I experienced was most unpleasant. Everything grew and stretched, straining against my robes and even against my skin. I could hear Hermione yelping in pain a couple of stalls down. When it was all over, I changed robes and shoes and met Ron/Crabbe outside.

Ron prodded his new face in the mirror. "This is unbelievable. Unbelievable."

I nodded. "We'd better get going. We've still got to find out where the Slytherin common room is. I only hope we can find someone to follow."

"You don't know how bizarre it is to see Goyle thinking," Ron muttered. He pounded on the door to Hermione's stall. "C'mon, we need to go!"

"I... I don't think I'm going to come after all. You go on without me." Hermione's voice was tight with pain.

"Hermione, we know Millicent Bulstrode's ugly, no one's going to know it's you."

"No, really, I don't think I'll come. You two hurry up, you're wasting time!"

I shot Ron a confused look, and he smiled. "That looks more like Goyle. That's how he looks every time a teacher asks him a question."

"Hermione, are you okay?" I asked. "You sound-"

"Fine! I'm fine! Go!"

I checked my watch. Five minutes had already passed. We needed to go.

I sighed. "We'll meet you back here."

Ron and I set out into the hallway, looking for a Slytherin to follow. He tried to ask a girl, but she was actually a Ravenclaw, so that didn't work out. The next person we saw, to our surprise, was Percy.

"What're you doing down here?" Ron asked.

Percy scowled. "That is none of your business. It's Crabbe, isn't it?"

"Wh... oh. Yeah."

"Well, get off to your dormitories. It's not safe to go wandering around dark corridors these days."

"You are."

"I am a prefect. Nothing's about to attack me."

For the first time in my life, I was glad to see Draco Malfoy coming towards us. "There you are. Have you two been pigging out in the Great Hall all this time? I've been looking for you; I want to show you something really funny." He glared at Percy. "And what're you doing down here, Weasley?"

Their egos collided in a spectacular display. Percy puffed up like a peacock. "You want to show a bit more respect to a school prefect! I don't like your attitude!"

Malfoy rolled his eyes and motioned for Ron/Crabbe and me to follow him. I almost said something apologetic to Percy, but I caught myself just in time. We followed Malfoy down the corridor.

"That Peter Weasley," he started to say, but Ron interrupted him.

"Percy," he said. I elbowed him hard. There was no way Crabbe actually knew Percy's name.

Fortunately, Malfoy didn't notice how odd this was. "Whatever. I've noticed him sneaking around a lot lately. And I bet I know what he's up to. He thinks he's going to catch Slytherin's heir single-handed." He laughed, and Ron and I looked at each other, fighting the urge to grin. Finally. "What's the new password again?"

I panicked. "Er..."

"Oh yeah. Pure-blood!"

A door that had previously blended perfectly into the wall slid open. We followed him into the common room.

He practically shoved us toward two chairs by the fire. "Wait here, I'll go and get it, my father's just sent it to me-"

I glanced around the room as he disappeared. The fire seemed to be glowing uncharacteristically bright, and the greenish light coming from the lamps was not altogether menacing. I would have expected the common room to be more... well, evil.

Malfoy returned and shoved a newspaper clipping under Ron's nose. "Read that!" he crowed. "That'll give you a laugh."

Ron forced a laugh and handed me the clipping. I scanned it quickly, my heart sinking lower with every word.

INQUIRY AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC

   Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, was today fined fifty Galleons for bewitching a Muggle car.
   Mr. Lucius Malfoy, a governor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where the enchanted car crashed earlier this year, called today for Mr. Weasley's resignation.
   "Weasley has brought the Ministry into disrepute," Mr. Malfoy told our reporter. "He is clearly unfit to draw up our laws and his ridiculous Muggle Protection Act should be scrapped immediately."
   Mr. Weasley was unavailable for comment, although his wife told reporters to clear off or she'd set the family ghoul on them.

I handed the clipping back to Malfoy, unable to force myself to laugh. "Well? Don't you think it's funny?"

"Ha ha," I said, feeling like I had swallowed a rock.

"Arthur Weasley loves Muggles so much he should snap his wand in half and go and join them! You'd never know the Weasleys were pure-bloods, the way they behave."

Ron looked positively livid. Malfoy's eyed him questioningly. "What's up with you, Crabbe?"

"Stomachache," Ron lied.

Malfoy laughed. "Well, go up to the hospital wing and give all those Mudbloods a kick from me. You know, I'm surprised the Daily Prophet hasn't reported all these attacks yet. I suppose Dumbledore's trying to hush it all up. He'll be sacked if it doesn't stop soon. Father's always said old Dumbledore's the worst thing that's ever happened to this place. He loves Muggle-borns. A decent headmaster would never've let slime like that Creevey in." He bounced around with an imaginary camera. He squeaked, "Potter, can I have your picture, Potter? Can I have your autograph? Can I lick your shoes, please, Potter?" When we didn't react, he stared at us. "What's the matter with you two?"

We forced ourselves to laugh, but he didn't seem too bothered. Maybe Crabbe and Goyle were always this slow.

"Saint Potter, the Mudbloods' friend. He's another one with no proper wizard feeling, or he wouldn't go around with that jumped up Granger Mudblood. And people think he's Slytherin's heir!" He sighed. "I wish I knew who it is. I could help them."

I couldn't believe it. It wasn't Malfoy? "You must have some idea who's behind it all?" I asked, grasping at straws.

"You know I haven't, Goyle, how many times do I have to tell you? And Father won't tell me anything about the last time the Chamber was opened either. Of course, it was fifty years ago, so it was before his time, but he knows all about it, and he says that it was all kept quiet and it'll look suspicious if I know too much about it. But I know one thing: last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood died. So I bet it's a matter of time before one of them's killed this time; I hope it's Granger!"

Ron looked ready to punch Malfoy, and I couldn't blame him. But I didn't think Crabbe would ever punch Malfoy, so I asked another question. "D'you know if the person who opened the Chamber last time was caught?"

"Oh, yeah, whoever it was was expelled. They're probably still in Azkaban."

"Azkaban?"

"Azkaban, the wizard prison, Goyle. Honestly, if you were any slower, you'd be going backward." He sighed. "Father says to keep my head down and let the Heir of Slytherin get on with it. He says the school needs ridding of all the Mudblood filth, but not to get mixed up in it. Of course, he's got a lot on his plate at the moment. You know the Ministry of Magic raided our manor last week?"

I tried to look concerned, but I was secretly thrilled. Malfoy saw only my fake concern.

"Yeah... luckily, they didn't find much. Father's got some very valuable Dark Arts stuff. But luckily, we've got our own secret chamber under the drawing-room floor-"

"Oh!" Ron gasped. Malfoy and I both whipped our heads to look at him. Not only was his face red, but his hair was starting to turn red too. We needed to go. The potion was wearing off.

We jumped to our feet, and Ron mumbled something about medicine for his stomach before we ran. We sprinted all the way to the closet where we'd left Crabbe and Goyle and left the shoes outside before returning to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

Ron sighed, but smiled. "Well, it wasn't a complete waste of time. I know we still haven't found out who's doing the attacks, but I'm going to write to Dad tomorrow and tell him to check under the Malfoys' drawing room."

I put my glasses back on as Ron knocked on Hermione's door again. "Hermione, come out, we've got loads to tell you-"

"Go away!"

I turned to exchange a concerned glance with Ron.

"What's the matter? You must be back to normal by now, we are."

Myrtle passed through the door, looking positively gleeful. "Wait till you see! It's awful!"

Hermione slowly walked out, robes over her head.

Ron was extremely concerned. "What's up? Have you still got Millicent's nose or something?"

Hermione dropped her robes, and we both jumped back. Her entire face was a larger-than-life recreation of a cat. Her face was covered in black fur, and matching ears poked through her hair. Her yellow eyes were full of tears as she explained.

"It was a c-cat hair! M-Millicent Bulstrode m-must have a cat! And the p-potion isn't supposed to be used for animal transformations!"

Ron gulped. "Uh oh."

Myrtle giggled. "You'll be teased something dreadful!"

I pulled Hermione away from the ghost. "It's okay, Hermione. We'll take you up to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey never asks too many questions."

"But- but-" Tears rolled down her cheeks. "Oh, how could this have gone so horribly wrong?"

Neither Ron nor I had an answer to that question. Ron reached forward and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It'll be okay. Madam Pomfrey can fix it. I mean, Lucy was blind but Madam Pomfrey fixed it as fast as-"

The mention of her best friend just made Hermione wail louder. It took a great deal of time and effort to convince her to leave the bathroom. She insisted on walking to the Hospital Wing herself to dispel any suspicion surrounding the two of us, so Ron and I headed up to the common room alone. As soon as we got up to our dormitory, I drew a piece of parchment out of my trunk and grabbed a quill.

"What're you doing?" Ron asked, flopping onto his bed.

"Writing to Lucy. She should know what happened."

"Mate, nothing's going to get through that snow. It's a Christmas miracle Malachi got here, but there's no way he'll be getting back to Ottery St. Catchpole anytime soon."

"I'm still going to write it," I said. "She would want to know we at least tried."

Ron shut his eyes and rolled into a more comfortable position. "Tell her I said hi, then."

I started to reply, but he was already gone. I was always amazed by his uncanny ability to fall asleep anywhere instantly.

I crept to the fireplace and began writing. I told her the fudge was delicious and that I hoped she liked the Montrose Magpies beanie I had gotten her, giving Ginny the credit for telling me her favorite Quidditch team in the first place. I told her that Malfoy wasn't the Heir of Slytherin, and I told her about Hermione's potion malfunction, being careful to assure her that Hermione was completely okay, if embarrassed. I concluded by telling her I hoped the letter would reach her somehow, but that the snow might make that difficult. I signed it at the bottom and rolled it up, leaving it on my nightstand beside my glasses before crawling into bed.

For all of my concerns about the Chamber of Secrets, I found myself reminiscing about last Christmas. At this exact time a year ago, I reckoned Lucy and I were either just arriving in the Restricted Section or just leaving it. It was my first night at the Mirror of Erised.

I closed my eyes, my parents' faces swimming in my vision. I now had Hagrid's photo album full of pictures that further solidified their faces in my mind, but no picture could ever come close to recreating the pure euphoria I experienced when I first saw my family, my whole family, in the Mirror of Erised. It was an intoxicating sort of joy that brought me back night after night after night, no matter how much it haunted me later.

Ron had seen himself holding up the Quidditch Cup, as captain and Head Boy. That had always made sense to me. Though he was no Hermione, he certainly had big dreams even if he chose to keep most of them to himself. What Lucy had seen in the mirror, however, had always been a mystery to me.

She had told me what she had seen. She had seen herself without scars. She had seen Cedric holding a broom out to her then taking off into the sky. She had seen a girl she didn't know who was running toward her.

She had told me that she had nightmares about what she had seen, the way I had, but she never elaborated. I knew she didn't like talking about herself much in general, especially when something was bothering her, but I tried to make sure she at the very least knew I would be there for her. I think everyone else who cared about her tried to do the same thing, even though we never really talked about it.

I stopped asking about the nightmares after a while, because every time I did, confusion like clouds would enter her eyes, and she would seem more distant than usual for a while. Not that Lucy was distant, but she was nowhere near as assertive (or bossy) as Hermione, and she always weighed her words more carefully than Ron did, and she was far better at controlling her temper than I was, though I had definitely seen the angry way her eyes flashed when Snape mocked Neville or when she overheard people saying less-than-friendly things about me. Part of me secretly wanted to see her lose her temper, really lose it, just once, just to see how angry she could really be, but I knew she never would. Not unless something truly terrible happened, anyway.

I got out of bed and added one more thing to the bottom of the letter.

P.S. We all really miss you.