On Monday morning, Fred and George were waiting outside the Great Hall.
Fred leaned against the wall while George turned a small leather pouch between his fingers. They broke off their conversation when they saw me.
"Peverell! We've got news."
I glanced at the pouch.
"The buyer paid?"
George sighed.
"You could at least pretend to be surprised."
"I can try."
"Too late."
He loosened the drawstring and tipped a few coins into his palm.
"All the hairs intact, one happy customer. Six Galleons each."
I took my share and put it in my money pouch.
"Thanks."
"Our pleasure," Fred replied. "Especially the money part."
"Finding those last two was quite nice as well."
George straightened.
"Excellent use of the terrain."
"We hid from Hagrid behind a random tree."
"And look how that turned out."
Fred glanced at his brother.
"If you were that good at choosing a spot, you wouldn't have sat on my leg."
"I didn't want you running off."
I laughed.
The trip had left me with some wet clothes, tired legs, and far better memories than I'd expected from searching for a few hairs. The money was a welcome bonus.
George put the pouch away.
"Since we work so well together, we've already got an idea for next time."
"First, tell me whether I'll need warmer socks."
Fred grinned.
"So you're interested."
"I'm interested in hearing the idea. That isn't a yes."
"We'll talk after Christmas," George said. "We need to check a few things."
"That sounds more sensible than your usual proposals."
"Don't get used to it."
Fred checked his watch and nudged his brother.
"Lee's waiting."
They headed towards the stairs. George waved over his shoulder before they both disappeared into the crowd.
I went into the Great Hall.
Draco was already at the Slytherin table. Blaise was reading a letter beside his cup, weighing down one corner with a piece of toast.
I sat opposite them.
"What did they want?" Draco asked.
"Fred and George?"
"No, the other two redheads you were talking to."
I reached for a plate.
"To settle up."
Blaise looked up from his letter.
"So Saturday's walk turned a profit."
"A decent one."
"I'm beginning to see why you were gone so long."
Draco shook his head but didn't press me. We ate in peace for a while.
"I spoke to Mara yesterday," he said eventually. "She won't be able to find me an opponent before Christmas."
"No room left?"
"She's already arranged the duels and doesn't want to add any more at the last minute. She said she'd sort it out after the holidays."
He didn't look pleased.
Ever since my duel with Elliot, he'd been keen to have a go himself. We'd practised after lunch on Sunday, and he was getting better. A few times, he'd countered quickly enough to make me move rather than take my time preparing another spell.
He still had a habit of stubbornly repeating things that weren't working, but he was beginning to catch himself without my help.
"You'll have more time to prepare," I said.
"I'd rather know who I'm fighting."
"I can't help you there. But we can keep practising after Christmas."
"I'm counting on it."
Blaise moved his letter away from his plate.
"At least one of us intends to come back rested."
"You?" Draco asked.
"Of course."
"You were complaining about family dinners yesterday."
"You can complain sitting down."
Several owls swooped overhead. One landed in front of Draco and dropped an envelope beside his plate.
He recognised the handwriting before he picked it up.
"From Mother."
Blaise watched with interest.
"Reminding you about your coat?"
Draco broke the seal.
"No."
"She reminded you three times last year."
"Because it was very expensive."
"That ought to have made it easier to remember."
I left them to it and went back to my breakfast.
Over the next few days, Hogwarts grew steadily more festive.
Enormous Christmas trees appeared in the Great Hall. Some branches glittered with silvery frost; tiny lights drifted among others. Garlands hung over doorways, and the suits of armour by the stairs acquired decorations they didn't seem to have been consulted about.
One wore a red scarf. Another held a wreath under its arm, as though unsure what to do with it. A third tried to hum a carol but only knew the first few notes.
Every time I passed, it started again.
By the fourth time, I was tempted to bring it some sheet music.
In the common room, conversations increasingly turned to presents, parties, and going home. Draco talked about Narcissa's plans, while Blaise tried to work out how many family gatherings he could miss without anyone noticing.
"Mother's invited a few people to dinner," he said one evening. "At least two of them will spend the whole time telling everyone how well their businesses are doing."
Draco looked up from his book.
"Perhaps they are."
"Then they wouldn't need to mention it with every course."
"Are you going to listen?" I asked.
"Of course. I want to know whether they're still doing as well by pudding."
Draco closed his book.
"What about you, Oliver? Going back to the estate?"
"Yes."
I answered without hesitation. I hadn't considered going anywhere else for a long time.
"For the whole holiday?" Blaise asked.
"That's the plan."
"I'm slightly jealous. At least you won't have to sit through dinner with people who ask about school and then don't listen to the answer."
"Mine ask and listen."
Draco snorted.
"That sounds worse."
"Depends who's asking."
Frederick would probably want to know what I'd learnt. Evelyn would also ask whether I was eating properly, who I spent time with, and why I'd said so little about myself in my last letter.
I could tell her about the unicorn.
I didn't necessarily have to start with how we'd ended up in the Forest.
After our last lesson on Thursday, Professor McGonagall stopped me at the door.
"Mr Peverell."
I turned, letting the other students pass.
"Yes, Professor?"
She set a stack of parchment on her desk.
"The Headmaster would like you to come to his office after dinner."
For a moment, I tried to remember everything I'd done recently.
The Forest?
Hagrid hadn't seen us. Nothing suggested he had, anyway.
The underground duels?
If it were those, I probably wouldn't be the only one invited.
"Has something happened?"
McGonagall regarded me over her spectacles.
"The Headmaster mentioned no incident. Is there something I ought to know about?"
"No, Professor."
As far as I was concerned, there was no need to enlighten her.
"Then please be punctual."
She gave me the password to his office, and I said goodbye and left.
It wasn't until I was heading back to the dungeons, passing a group of students talking about going home for Christmas, that another possibility occurred to me.
The orphanage.
I should have expected this.
After dinner, I gave the password to the stone gargoyle and climbed the stairs.
Dumbledore sat behind his desk with an open document in front of him. Fawkes dozed on his perch, and a plate of biscuits and a pot of tea waited on a side table.
"Good evening, Oliver. Do sit down."
I took the chair. The Headmaster poured me some tea and asked a few questions about the end of term. He also mentioned the Duelling Club.
"Professor Snape spoke well of your judgement."
"That's nice to hear."
"And judging by your expression, you were rather pleased with the outcome yourself."
"A little."
Dumbledore smiled over his cup.
There was no point pretending I hadn't enjoyed beating Harry.
After a moment, he set down his tea and moved the document aside.
"I wanted to discuss your plans for the holidays. I assume you intend to spend Christmas at the Peverell estate?"
"Yes."
"Your records still give the orphanage as your address."
"I know. We've already discussed this, Professor."
"I remember."
I rested my hands on my knees.
"The Founders' Act—"
"I have no intention of pretending it does not exist," he interrupted calmly. "Nor of disputing your ownership of the estate. There is, however, still the question of your care."
"I won't be there without anyone to look after me."
"Does an adult wizard live with you who has been given legal responsibility for your welfare?"
"Not in the sense you mean."
Dumbledore nodded.
"That is precisely why I wished to speak to you. I know you are independent. You are also twelve, and I cannot ignore the fact that one of my pupils is leaving for the holidays without a legally recognised guardian."
"I'm safe at the estate. I spent part of the summer there."
"I'm glad you were comfortable there. I would also like to know what happens if, one day, you need help."
"There's Anunu."
"I know about your house-elf."
"He can do a lot more than cook dinner."
"I don't doubt it."
There was no irony in his reply. That made the conversation rather more difficult.
I'd prepared myself for an argument about why I ought to return to the orphanage. Instead, Dumbledore sat across the desk asking questions I couldn't answer simply by reminding him of the Act.
"The house is well protected, too," I added.
"I'm sure it is. Its protections will not, however, tell me if something has happened to you."
I moved my cup a little farther from the edge.
I wasn't going to tell him about every portrait and everything inside the estate. It was enough that I knew whom I could rely on.
"Professor, I'm not going back to the orphanage."
Dumbledore studied me for a moment.
"Why?"
I looked at him in surprise.
"Because I have a home."
"The orphanage also provides you with somewhere to live."
"That isn't the same."
He waited for me to continue.
"I'm not saying they treated me badly. But I lived there because I had nowhere else to go."
I ran a finger along the handle of my cup.
"Now I do."
Fawkes stirred on his perch. For a few seconds, the only sound was the faint ticking of an instrument near the wall.
I thought of Evelyn bent over her needlework, looking up whenever I entered the room. Of Anunu checking whether I'd eaten breakfast. Even of Frederick, who always managed to find one more question before letting me leave.
I didn't want to go back to my room at the orphanage knowing they were waiting somewhere else.
"I understand," Dumbledore said.
I looked up.
"I am not going to tell you that you shouldn't want to spend Christmas in your own home. I want us to agree on how we will keep in touch."
That sounded much better.
"What do you suggest?"
"A short letter every other day. The first when you arrive."
I studied him.
"Every other day?"
"A few sentences, Oliver. I want to know that you arrived safely and that all is well. And should you need help, you needn't wonder whether you ought to write to me."
"I hope you're not expecting a description of every meal."
"Only if one is particularly worth recommending."
I couldn't tell whether he was joking.
Dumbledore reached for his cup.
"This will not resolve the question of your guardianship. It will, however, ensure that we stay in regular contact."
I considered it. The holiday wasn't long. A few short letters didn't seem an unreasonable price for bringing this conversation to an end.
"And you won't try to send me back to the orphanage?"
"I do not intend to take such action myself merely because you are returning to the estate. I cannot promise that the Ministry will not pursue the matter."
"I understand."
"Our agreement does not change your legal position."
"I don't expect it to."
He nodded.
"There is one more thing. If your letter fails to arrive when we have agreed, and I cannot establish whether you are safe, I will come and check on you myself."
I fell silent.
He'd said it as calmly as he'd spoken about the tea.
"To the estate?"
"That is where you'll be, is it not?"
For a moment, I wanted to remind him about the protections. Then I looked at the man sitting across from me and decided I had no desire to find out how Albus Dumbledore would deal with them.
"That won't be necessary."
"I hope not."
He wasn't smiling.
Apparently, that part wasn't open to negotiation.
"All right," I said. "I'll write."
His expression softened.
"Thank you. Who will be meeting you in London?"
"Anunu. I'll call him when I arrive, and he'll take me home."
"Good. Let me know if your plans change."
I finished my tea. I'd expected this to end considerably worse.
"Can the letter be really short?"
Dumbledore looked at me over his spectacles.
"I'm afraid your signature alone will not suffice."
"Worth asking."
He smiled and pushed the plate of biscuits towards me.
I stayed a few more minutes. We talked about the books I intended to take, and the Headmaster reminded me that the Christmas holidays could also be an opportunity to rest.
I thought Evelyn would readily agree with him.
Frederick would probably ask what, exactly, I'd done to make myself so tired.
Eventually, I set down my empty cup and stood.
"Thank you for the tea, Professor."
"You're quite welcome. Have a peaceful Christmas, Oliver."
"You too."
I was at the door when he added, "The first letter when you arrive."
I looked back.
"I remember."
"Excellent."
Draco and Blaise were sitting at a table in the common room. One was writing an essay; the other was reading with his feet dangerously close to the inkwell.
Draco looked up as I sat down.
"What did Dumbledore want?"
"To talk about where I'm going for Christmas."
"Home."
"That's what I told him."
Blaise lowered his book.
"Is it because you live on your own?"
"More or less. He thinks he ought to know whether I'm all right."
"That's not entirely unreasonable," Draco pointed out.
"I'm not saying it is. We agreed I'd send him a short letter every other day."
Draco slowly put down his quill.
"To the Headmaster?"
"No, to that suit of armour by the stairs. Dumbledore will read it aloud."
Blaise snorted.
Draco's smile widened.
"And if you forget?"
"If I don't write and he can't find out what's happened to me, he'll come himself."
This time, they both laughed.
"You'd better not forget, then," Blaise said.
"I'd worked that out."
"Imagine it," Draco began. "You come back from the library, and there's Dumbledore, asking why you haven't written."
I could imagine something worse.
Evelyn discovering that the Headmaster had come to check on me in person because I couldn't be bothered to write three sentences.
"I'll remember," I assured them.
Draco went back to his essay, still looking amused.
"Mother would love that arrangement."
"Yours?"
"Anyone's."
I said nothing. I was beginning to suspect I wouldn't find many allies on this particular subject when I got home.
I finished packing on Friday evening.
Most of my textbooks could stay at Hogwarts. There were enough books waiting for me at the estate, and I wasn't planning to take my entire school desk with me.
I packed my personal things, a few volumes I needed, and my notes from the past few weeks. I tucked the pages on Trace and Will farther down, among the other parchments.
They would be useful when I spoke to Frederick.
Hedwig sat on the back of a chair, watching me fasten my bag.
"Ready to go home?"
She tilted her head.
I stroked her feathers.
"Me too. Just don't get annoyed when I give you letters to bring back here."
She nipped my finger gently.
"It wasn't my idea."
"Blaming the Headmaster?" Blaise asked.
He was sitting on the lid of his trunk, trying to reach the clasp.
"Quite rightly."
"Sensible."
He shifted a little. The lid sank, but not far enough.
I watched him for a moment.
"What have you put in there?"
"Things."
"Your own?"
"Very funny."
He slid off the trunk, opened it, and pulled out a shoe that had become wedged beside the hinge. He repositioned it, shut the lid again, and this time fastened the clasps without difficulty.
"See? All under control."
Hedwig hooted.
Blaise looked at her.
"Don't you start."
The following morning, the castle filled with the rattle of trunks, hooting owls, and conversations about the journey. Someone on the stairs remembered a forgotten scarf and tried to push back against the crowd. Behind him, a friend carried a cage whose occupant loudly objected to every jolt.
After breakfast, Draco, Blaise, and I headed out onto the grounds.
It wasn't snowing. Snow crunched beneath our shoes, and the cold air soon chased away the last of my drowsiness.
I looked back at the castle.
I liked Hogwarts. Over the past few months, I'd grown used to the underwater light in the dormitory, conversations by the fire, and almost always running into someone I knew on the way to a lesson.
Even so, I'd found myself thinking about the estate more and more over the last few days.
I wondered whether Evelyn had finished the needlework she'd been doing when we last spoke. I wanted to see Roland's face when I told him about the unicorn, and hear what Anunu had prepared for Christmas.
Frederick probably already had something for me to work on.
That part could wait until the next day.
"Coming?" Draco asked.
I caught up with them.
"I was wondering what we'll come back to."
"As long as Mara has an opponent for me, I don't care about the rest."
"I care about the opponent," Blaise said. "I need to know who to bet on."
Draco turned to him.
"You're joking."
"Would you rather I judged your chances without any information?"
"I'd rather you bet on me."
"Then make it worth my while after Christmas."
I smiled as their argument continued.
The station was already bustling. Students searched for empty compartments, hauled luggage aboard, and called to their friends. In the crowd, I spotted Fred and George helping Lee Jordan carry a large box.
Lee had both hands under his end and didn't look pleased.
George noticed me first.
"Happy Christmas, Peverell!"
"You too!"
Fred nodded towards the box.
"We'll talk after the holidays!"
"First, you're telling me what that is!"
"That's what we want to talk about!"
Lee said something I couldn't hear. Judging by the twins' expressions, it wasn't a Christmas greeting.
I followed Draco onto the train.
We found an empty compartment. I put away my luggage and took the window seat, setting Hedwig's cage beside me. She settled her feathers and watched the bustle on the platform for a while.
Blaise took off his coat, while Draco almost immediately produced a catalogue he wanted to show us.
By the time the whistle blew and the train began to move, a discussion about a new broom was already well underway.
"You could buy plenty of other things for that price," Blaise remarked.
"But I want to fly."
"In that case, you do need a broom."
Draco looked at me, apparently hoping for support.
I held up my hands and stayed out of it.
Snow-covered hills slipped past the window. I took out my book, but before opening it, I scribbled a reminder about the letter on a scrap of parchment and tucked it inside the cover.
The Ministry still had its own views on where I ought to live. My conversation with Dumbledore hadn't changed that.
I hadn't changed my plans either.
I'd call Anunu in London. Perhaps I'd have time to see Evelyn before dinner.
I wanted to tell her about the Forest before Frederick asked why I'd spent an entire afternoon looking for five hairs.
I smiled and opened my book.