Professor McGonagall was walking Y/n back to Gryffindor Tower. As they walked, Y/n quietly told her about what they had learned about Mr Weasley's condition.
"It sounds as if St Mungo's is in for a serious amount of work of hard work." McGonagall said but Y/n could tell she was still frustrated on having to deal with Umbridge earlier.
"Do you think Mr Weasley will pull through Professor?" Y/n dared to ask.
"I cannot say that I know Grindelwald." McGonagall told him. "The attack only just happened and we don't fully understand how it happened to begin with, Nor do we know the full severity of Mr Weasley's injuries." But like always she pulled herself together and remained resolute. "But dare I say Mr Weasley will not give up easily."
Y/n just nodded as they came to the portrait of the Fat Lady who was feigning to be asleep. "I will be fine from here Professor." Y/n told McGonagall now.
"Are you certain Grindelwald?" McGonagall asked him.
"Yes, after tonight I just want to go to bed." Y/n said sounding tired.
"Very well Grindelwald, do try to get some sleep." Professor McGonagall said understanding his exhaustion as she too was feeling tired from the night's events. She left Y/n now and he turned his attention to the Fat Lady saying the password to get back in.
"Does anyone intend to let me sleep tonight?" The Fat Lady asked annoyed by the interruption as the portrait to the common room opened.
"Real people do not snore like that when they are asleep." Y/n told her indicating he could tell she had been faking being asleep to eavesdrop.
Y/n entered the common room but having returned alone in the middle of the night he found it eerily quiet. As he looked around he could see the House Elves had already cleaned the room so he would have no chance of encountering one, they had also put the fire out for the night as the room lay only lit by moonlight that shone through Gryffindor towers many windows.
Y/n turned his gaze to the stairs that led to his dormitory. He thought of the others in their dorm who might be curious as to what was going on after being woken up in such a way, but he couldn't tell them. Dumbledore had made it clear no one was to know how much they all knew. Except for Hermione, he could tell Hermione...but how? She would be fast asleep in her dorm right now and Y/n had no way of climbing the stairs to the girls' dorms without setting off the stairs like Ron had done before. During the day it had been amusing to everyone but If it went off at night...it could give the girls a severe fright as well as have dire consequences for Y/n being labeled as a creep. He was considering waiting till morning when an idea struck him, but would it work? He wasn't sure.
He was debating if using his Animagus form of a cat would allow him to reach Hermione's dorm room. Dementors and Matgots had been tricked by Animagus forms in the past he reasoned as he looked to the Girl Dorms stairs and decided he would take the risk, with this plan he didn't have the risk of being immediately caught out.
Closing his eyes he only had to wait a moment as his form changed and soon he had four paws on the common room floor completely as a cat. He carefully made his way to the Girl's dorm stairs giving them another look before he decided to be brave. Reaching a paw forward he stepped forward onto the first step and waited...but nothing happened. Not wanting to waste any time he started to ascend the stairs.
Soon he reached the door he remembered Hermione describing as her dorm room in previous conversations. He sat down in front of it as he tried to think of a way he could get Hermione's attention from inside. The first idea was to change back and knock on the door, but that would only set the stairs off making his whole endeavor pointless. He was too small to reach the door's handle so entering the room was out of the question as well. Only one idea remained but Y/n didn't feel very dignified by it as he closed his eyes and started to scratch the door and let out timed meows.
A minute went by until Y/n heard what sounded like footsteps from inside the room. He kept scratching hoping it would be Hermione who opened the door.
But It wasn't Hermione, It was Lavender Brown.
Y/n just meowed up at her not wanting to break his cover.
"Huh? I thought that black cat was already in here?" Lavender said sleepily as she rubbed her tired eyes.
Not wanting more attention Y/n quickly moved forward and Lavender shut the dormitory door effectively trapping him in the room. Even as a cat Y/n felt he had crossed a line, but he kept telling himself that Hermione would want to know as soon as possible.
Looking for her bed he found it to be the one closest to the window. He made his way over to it and jumped onto it. Once on Hermione's bed he could see both Crookshanks and Noctis who had been fast asleep raise their heads to see who had intruded them. When Noctis saw it Y/n however she happily trilled, got up, and brushed against him.
Y/n let Noctis have her moment before he moved slowly forward closer to Hermione's face. Even when deep in sleep Y/n thought her to be a beautiful sight. He raised one of his paws and carefully placed it on her face rather like Noctis had a habit of doing to him.
Hermione however just stirred as her nose wrinkled slightly in her sleep and Y/n just decided to be more persistent as he lightly pawed at her face some more and even let out a quiet meow.
"Noctis...go to sleep." Hermione mumbled half asleep as she caught Y/n off guard by grabbing him now and holding him in her arms close to her chest.
Y/n lay trapped in Hermione's grip completely forgetting why he had even come to Hermione's dorm in the first place as he tried to think of a way out of her grasp. He wasn't sure if it was simply because of his animagus form or because of their close proximity but Hermione smelled heavenly to Y/n causing him unwittingly relax in her arms as he felt his eyes get heavier. All he could remember before they shut entirely was the face of Crookshanks glaring at him.
It was the morning as sunlight filled the girl's dormitory and Hermione and the three cats lay picturesque.
Hermione began to stir now as she felt the black cat in her arms slowly rise and then fall in peaceful slumber.
"Good morning Noctis, Crookshanks." Hermione yawned to the two cats.
Noctis gave her a cheerful meow and paw at the face as she had grown accustomed to in the mornings while Crookshanks let out a single meow signaling he wanted to be fed. But something felt off, If Noctis was to her side and Crookshanks was near her legs...Then whose cat was she holding? Hermione's eyes opened quickly and looked down, but one glance was enough for her to work out who this cat was. What on Earth was he playing at!? While she had missed sharing a bed with him this was going too far she thought.
Hermione unraveled one of her hands from his form as she poked one of Y/n's cat ears to try to wake him up. Y/n let out a sudden trill that sounded like 'mrmp' as his head lifted and he looked around suddenly locking eyes with Hermione.
"You are in so much trouble mister!" Hermione whispered to the cat in her arms.
Y/n quickly pointed to the dormitory door with a paw and Hermione scooped him up with one arm as she made her way to the door and opened it and carried him down into the common room.
Y/n looked around and when he saw that it was empty except for the two of them he changed back into his normal self.
"What were you thinking Y/n!?" Hermione immediately started but she was stopped when Y/n suddenly put a finger to her lip.
"Hermione, I love you very much but I have a very reasonable explanation. Perhaps you had best sit down while I explain everything that happened last night." Y/n said and guided Hermione to sit in one of their favorite chairs.
Hermione looked to Y/n with skepticism and confusion but quietly she listened as he told her of Harry's dream of Mr Weasley being attacked by the snake, their trip to Dumbledore's office where it was discovered Mr Weasley had in fact been attacked and how Dumbledore had let Harry and the Weasley's go to Grimmauld Place.
"No..." Hermione said in shock as Y/n finished telling her. "Is Mr Weasley alright?" She quickly asked.
"I do not know Hermione." Y/n shook his head. "When I returned to the common room in the night I immediately changed into my cat form to make my way to your dorm so I could try wake you. But you mistook me for Noctis and held me in a rather tight but not unwelcomed embrace." Y/n admitted.
"Just don't go in the girls dorm again." Hermione sighs and Y/n nods in agreement. "What do we do?" Hermione then asks.
"I do not think there is anything we can do, not until term officially ends at least." Y/n said as if he was beginning to muse on an idea.
"Well that's tomorrow." Hermione said as she got up now.
"Where are you going?" Y/n asked.
"To write a letter." Hermione replied and headed back to her dorm.
It was the next morning and Y/n and Hermione were sitting at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall eating breakfast, their cases had been packed and they like the other students were waiting to go down to Hogsmede station and get the train back to King's Cross for the Christmas holidays. All day yesterday Y/n had been debating what the right thing to do was but the more he thought about it the more he could only come to one conclusion.
"Hermione...I am going to stay with Harry and the others." Y/n started carefully, unsure what her reaction would be.
"I know, I am coming too." Hermione said catching him off guard.
"But what about..."
"I already knew you'd want to make sure Mr Weasley is alright, I want to as well, so I sent an owl to Mum and Dad." Hermione told him. "I...lied and said that we are both staying at Hogwarts to study for our exams."
"Oh, Hermione..." Y/n started.
"It's okay Y/n." Hermione stopped him. "We both want to be there for the Weasley family so let's do that."
Y/n just took her hand under the table. "We will make it up to them next year I promise, maybe my grandmother could visit too, we could make it a family Christmas of sorts."
"I'm sure mum and dad would be happy with that." Hermione smiled.
It was around six o'clock in the evening when they finally arrived outside Grimmauld place, As the doorbell rang they could hear Mrs Black screaming again like she had in the summer. They waited for a few moments before the friendly face of Mrs Weasley answered the door.
"Y/n! Hermione!" She said shocked to see them both. "But we thought..."
"This is much more important Mrs Weasley." Y/n told her. "We both would not rather be anywhere else than with you all in this trying time."
"My parents will understand." Hermione nodded her head.
"Oh..." Mrs Weasley broke into tears as she hugged them both and quickly brought them inside. "Thank you dears, it's been a stressful twenty four hours. Luckily Arthur is on the mend now."
"He is?" Y/n asked sounding relieved.
"That's wonderful news Mrs Weasley!" Hermione said just as relieved.
"It took quite some time, but they got there in the end. Now I'm afraid you've both just missed dinner but that's alright I was sending some sandwiches up to Harry's room anyway. You can eat in there, we've just had a fire lit in there so it will be nice and cozy." Mrs Wealsey said before turning her head to the stairs. "Ron, Ginny come down here." She called out.
A few moments later a tall head filled with Red hair came down the stairs. "What is it now Mu..." Ron began to ask but stopped surprised when she saw the familiar faces. "Y/n? Hermione?"
Ginny came bounding down the stairs now and gave the two a small friendly smile. It was clear that the Weasley's spirits were slowly returning back to normal after the ordeal they'd just been through.
"Ron help Y/n set up in the room you and Harry are using and Ginny you'll share with Hermione alright, that's it, off you go." Mrs Weasley ushered them all to the stairs with their luggage.
"Blimey, I wasn't expecting you both to come here, thought you were going skiing." Ron said as they all started up the stairs leaving Mrs Weasley who was heading back to the kitchen.
"Yes, well plans change." Hermione said. "We weren't going to go off and enjoy ourselves while everyone was worried about your dad Ron, we are glad to hear he is okay though." Hermione added.
"At least someone's glad about something." Ginny muttered.
"What do you mean?" Y/n asked.
"Well It's Harry..." Ron started. "Thing Is, we sort of overheard Moody and the others talking about him."
"And since we got back he's been avoiding us all." Ginny added.
"What did Moody say exactly?" Y/n asked.
"He said, 'The boy's seeing things from inside You-Know-Who's snake. Obviously, Potter doesn't realise what that means, but if You-Know-Who's possessing him...'" Rold told them. "And now's he holing himself up in different rooms and avoiding us all. I think he's in Buckbeak's room at the moment."
"Right, we will be having no more of that then." Y/n said as a matter of fact as he picked up his pace on the stairs. "Ron, Ginny you two go to the room us boys are staying in, Hermione and I will fetch Harry, even if we have to drag him out."
Everybody else had spent the following morning putting up Christmas decorations. Harry could not remember Sirius ever being in such a good mood, he was actually singing carols, apparently delighted that he was to have company over Christmas. Harry could hear his voice echoing up through the floor in the cold drawing room where he was sitting alone, watching the sky growing whiter outside the windows, threatening snow, all the time feeling a savage pleasure that he was giving the others the opportunity to keep talking about him, as they were bound to be doing. When he heard Mrs. Weasley calling his name softly up the stairs around lunchtime, he retreated further upstairs and ignored her.
Around six o'clock in the evening the doorbell rang and Mrs. Black started screaming again. Assuming that Mundungus or some other Order member had come to call, Harry merely settled himself more comfortably against the wall of Buckbeak's room where he was hiding, trying to ignore how hungry he felt as he fed dead rats to the hippogriff. It came as a slight shock when somebody hammered hard on the door a few minutes later.
"We know you're in there." Hermione's voice sounded. 'Will you please come out? Y/n and I want to talk to you."
"What are you doing here?" Harry asked them, pulling open the door.
Y/n could see Buckbeak behind him scratching at a straw-strewn floor for any fragments of rat he may have dropped. "I thought you were going skiing?" Harry continued.
"Well, to tell the truth, skiing's not really my thing." said Hermione. "So, We've come here for Christmas."
Harry could see there was snow in their hair and both faces were pink with the cold from outside.
"But don't tell Ron. I told him skiing's really good because he kept laughing so much. Mum and Dad are bound to be a bit disappointed we aren't going back, but I've told them that everyone who is serious about the exams is staying at Hogwarts to study. They want me to do well, they'll understand."
"Anyways." Hermione said briskly. "Let's go to your bedroom, Ron's mum has lit a fire in there and she's sent up sandwiches."
Harry followed them back to the second floor. When he entered the bedroom, he was rather surprised to see both Ron and Ginny waiting for them, sitting on Ron's bed.
"We came on the Knight Bus." said Hermione airily, pulling off her jacket before Harry had time to speak. "Y/n told me what had happened first thing yesterday, but Dumbledore made us wait for term to end officially before setting off. Umbridge is already livid that you lot disappeared right under her nose, even though Dumbledore told her Mr. Weasley was in St. Mungo's and he'd given you all permission to visit. So..."
She sat down next to Ginny, and the two girls and Ron all looked up at Harry.
"How're you feeling?" asked Hermione.
"Fine." said Harry stiffly.
"Do not lie to us Harry." Y/n said shutting the door behind him now. "We are not as stupid as you might like to believe, Ron and Ginny say you have been hiding from everyone since you got back from St. Mungo's."
"They do, do they?" said Harry, glaring at Ron and Ginny.
Ron looked down at his feet but Ginny seemed quite unabashed. "Well, you have!" she said. "And you won't look at any of us!"
'It's you lot who won't look at me!' said Harry angrily.
"Maybe you're taking it in turns to look, and keep missing each other." suggested Hermione, the corners of her mouth twitching.
"Very funny." snapped Harry, turning away.
"Oh, stop feeling all misunderstood." said Hermione sharply. "Look, the others have told me and Y/n what you overheard last night on the Extendable Ears..."
"Yeah?" growled Harry, his hands deep in his pockets as he watched the snow now falling thickly outside. "All been talking about me, have you? Well, I'm getting used to it."
"We wanted to talk to you, Harry." said Ginny. "But as you've been hiding ever since we got back...
"I didn't want anyone to talk to me." said Harry, who was feeling more and more nettled.
"Stop feeling sorry for yourself Harry." Y/n said bluntly feeling fed up now and Harry turned to face him. "Mr Weasley is spending his Christmas in St Mungo's, His wife and children have just spent a grueling amount of hours not knowing if he was going to live or die and Hermione has just given up spending the holidays with her family. Instead of hiding in these rooms you could have taken the initiative to talk to the one person who might understand what you are going through."
"Yeah well Dumbledore's not exactly talking to me is?" Harry said annoyed with Y/n.
"I am not talking about Dumbledore!" Y/n said back. "I was talking about Ginny..."
Harry remained quite still as the impact of these words hit him. Then he wheeled round towards her. "I forgot." he said.
"Lucky you." said Ginny coolly.
"I'm sorry." Harry said, and he meant it. "So...so, do you think I'm being possessed, then?"
"Well, can you remember everything you've been doing?" Ginny asked. "Are there big blank periods where you don't know what you've been up to?"
Harry racked his brains. "No." he said.
"Then You-Know-Who hasn't ever possessed you." said Ginny simply. "When he did it to me, I couldn't remember what I'd been doing for hours at a time. I'd find myself somewhere and not know how I got there."
"That dream I had about your dad and the snake, though..."
"Harry, you've had these dreams before." Hermione said. "You had flashes of what Voldemort was up to last year."
"This was different." said Harry, shaking his head. "I was inside that snake. It was like I was the snake...what if Voldemort somehow transported me to London..."
"Impossible. I saw you in your bed as I awoke Ron, You never left the room in your sleep." Y/n told him.
"One day." said Hermione, sounding thoroughly exasperated. "You'll read Hogwarts: A History, and perhaps it will remind you that you can't Apparate or Disapparaie inside Hogwarts. Even Voldemort couldn't just make you fly out of your dormitory, Harry."
Harry started pacing up and down the room again, thinking. What they were all saying was not only comforting, it made sense... without really thinking, he took a sandwich from the plate on the bed and crammed it hungrily into his mouth.
Y/n took this as a good sign as they soon heard Sirius tramping past their door towards Buckbeak's room, singing 'God Rest Ye, Merry Hippogriffs' at the top of his voice.
Sirius's delight at having the house full again, and especially at having Harry back, was infectious. He was no longer their sullen host of the summer, now he seemed determined that everyone should enjoy themselves as much, if not more than they would have done at Hogwarts, and he worked tirelessly in the run-up to Christmas Day, cleaning and decorating with their help, so that by the time they all went to bed on Christmas Eve the house was barely recognizable. The tarnished chandeliers were no longer hung with cobwebs but with garlands of holly and gold and silver streamers, magical snow glittered in heaps over the threadbare carpets, a great Christmas tree, obtained by Mundungus and decorated with live fairies, blocked Sirius's family tree from view, and even the stuffed elf-heads on the hall wall wore Father Christmas hats and beards.
Harry awoke on Christmas morning to find a stack of presents at the foot of his bed and Ron already halfway through opening his own, rather larger, pile. "Good haul this year." he informed Harry through a cloud of paper. "Thanks for the Broom Compass, it's excellent, beats Hermione's, she got me a homework planner..."
"I will tell her you said that." A voice said and both Harry and Ron looked to see Y/n was now awake too.
"...Please don't..." Ron said not wanting an earful on ungratefulness.
"I see you have not opened my gift yet." Y/n commented.
"I was just getting to it." Ron said as he lifted it up now and unwrapped it to reveal a book on legendary Quidditch keepers. "Wow...thanks Y/n!" Ron said immediately beginning to look through it.
"You are welcome." Y/n said and he sat up in his bed now and saw a pile of presents in a sack at the bottom of his bed. He opened Mrs Weasley's first to find some nice freshly baked mince pies and a newly knit jumper. He was surprised to see Lupin had given him a gift this year in the form of some excellent books entitled 'Practical Defensive Magic and its Use Against the Dark Arts', which had superb, moving colour illustrations of all the counter-jinxes and hexes it described. Y/n quickly flicked through the first volume eagerly, he could see it was going to be highly useful in his and Harry's plans for the DA.
Harry sorted through his own presents and found one with Hermione's handwriting on it. She had given him, too, a book that resembled a diary except that every time he opened a page it said aloud things like: "Do it today or later you'll pay!" Hagrid had sent a furry brown wallet that had fangs, which were presumably supposed to be an anti-theft device, but unfortunately prevented Harry putting any money in without getting his fingers ripped off. Tonks's present was a small, working model of a Firebolt, which Harry watched fly around the room, wishing he still had his full-size version, Ron had given him an enormous box of Every-Flavour Beans, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley the usual hand-knitted jumper and some mince pies, and Dobby a truly dreadful painting that Harry suspected had been done by the elf himself. He had just turned it upside-down to see whether it looked better that way when, with a loud crack, Fred and George Apparated at the foot of his bed.
"Merry Christmas." said George. "Don't go downstairs for a bit."
"Why not?" said Ron.
"Mum's crying again." said Fred heavily.
"What is wrong with Mrs Weasley?" Y/n asked now lowering his new books.
"Percy sent back his Christmas jumper." Fred said.
"Without a note." added George. "Hasn't asked how Dad is or visited him or anything."
"You know, I rather wish I had hit him with that stunner at the Quidditch World Cup now." Y/n said.
"We tried to comfort her." said Fred, moving around the bed to look at Harry's portrait. "Told her Percy's nothing more than a humungous pile of rat droppings."
"Didn't work." said George, helping himself to a Chocolate Frog. "So Lupin took over. Best let him cheer her up before we go down for breakfast, I reckon."
"What's that supposed to be, anyway?" asked Fred, squinting at Dobbys painting. "Looks like a gibbon with two black eyes."
"It's Harry!" said George, pointing at the back of the picture. "Says so on the back!"
"Good likeness." said Fred, grinning. Harry threw his new homework diary at him, it hit the wall opposite and fell to the floor where it said happily. "If you've dotted the "i"s and crossed the "t"s then you may do whatever you please!"
They got up and dressed. They could hear the various inhabitants of the house calling "Merry Christmas" to one another. On their way downstairs they met Hermione.
"Merry Christmas Hermione." Y/n smiled at her. "I thought we could do gifts together later, in private." Y/n suggested.
Hermione nodded in agreement. "Speaking of, thanks for the book, Harry." she said happily. "I've been wanting that New Theory of Numerology for ages! And that perfume's really unusual, Ron."
"No problem." said Ron. "Who's that for, anyway?" he added, nodding at the neatly wrapped present she was carrying.
"Kreacher." said Hermione brightly.
"It had better not be clothes!" Ron warned her. "You know what Sirius said... 'Kreacher knows too much', we can't set him free!"
"It isn't clothes." said Hermione. "Although if I had my way I'd certainly give him something to wear other than that filthy old rag. No, it's a patchwork quilt, I thought it would brighten up his bedroom."
"What bedroom?" said Harry, dropping his voice to a whisper as they were passing the portrait of Sirius's mother.
"Well, Sirius says it's not so much a bedroom, more a kind of...den." said Hermione. "Apparently he sleeps under the boiler in that cupboard off the kitchen."
Mrs. Weasley was the only person in the basement when they arrived there. She was standing at the stove and sounded as though she had a bad head cold as she wished them 'Merry Christmas', and they all averted their eyes.
"So, is this Kreacher's bedroom?" said Ron, strolling over to a dingy door in the corner opposite the pantry. Y/n had never seen it open.
"Yes." said Hermione, now sounding a little nervous. "Er...I think we'd better knock."
Ron rapped on the door with his knuckles but there was no reply. "He must be sneaking around upstairs." he said, and without further ado pulled open the door. "Urgh!"
Y/n and Harry peered inside. Most of the cupboard was taken up with a very large and old-fashioned boiler, but in the foot of space underneath the pipes Kreacher had made himself something that looked like a nest. A jumble of assorted rags and smelly old blankets were piled on the floor and the small dent in the middle of it showed where Kreacher curled up to sleep every night. Here and there among the material were stale bread crusts and mouldy old bits of cheese. In a far corner glinted small objects and coins that Harry guessed Kreacher had saved, magpie-like, from Sirius's purge of the house, and he had also managed to retrieve the silver-framed family photographs that Sirius had thrown away over the summer. Their glass might be shattered, but still the little black-and-white people inside them peered up at him haughtily, including...a dark, heavy-lidded woman whose trial Harry had witnessed in Dumbledore's Pensieve last year, Bellatrix Lestrange. By the looks of it, hers was Kreacher's favourite photograph, he had placed it to the fore of all the others and had mended the glass clumsily with Spellotape.
"I think I'll just leave his present here." said Hermione, laying the package neatly in the middle of the depression in the rags and blankets and closing the door quietly. "He'll find it later, that'll be fine."
"Come to think of it." said Sirius, emerging from the pantry carrying a large turkey as they closed the cupboard door. "Has anyone actually seen Kreacher lately?"
"I haven't seen him since the night we came back here." said Harry. "You were ordering him out of the kitchen."
"Yeah..." said Sirius, frowning. "You know, I think that's the last time I saw him, too, he must be hiding upstairs somewhere."
"He couldn't have left, could he?" said Harry. "I mean, when you said 'out', maybe he thought you meant get out of the house?"
"No, no, house-elves can't leave unless they're given clothes. They're tied to their family's house." said Sirius.
"They can leave the house if they really want to." Harry contradicted him. "Dobby did, he left the Malfoy's' to give me warnings. He had to punish himself afterwards, but he still managed it."
Sirius looked slightly disconcerted for a moment, then said. "I'll look for him later, I expect I'll find him upstairs crying his eyes out over my mother's old bloomers or something. Of course, he might have crawled into the airing cupboard and died...but I mustn't get my hopes up."
Fred, George and Ron laughed, Hermione, however, looked reproachful. Y/n and Harry looked at one another concerned.
Once they had eaten their Christmas lunch, the Weasleys, Harry, Y/n and Hermione were planning to pay Mr. Weasley another visit, escorted by Mad-Eye and Lupin. Mundungus turned up in time for Christmas pudding and trifle, having managed to 'borrow' a car for the occasion, as the Underground did not run on Christmas Day. The car, which Y/n doubted very much had been taken with the consent of its owner, had been enlarged with a spell like the Weasleys' old Ford Anglia had once been. Although normally proportioned outside, eleven people with Mundungus driving were able to fit into it quite comfortably.
Mrs. Weasley hesitated before getting inside, Harry knew her disapproval of Mundungus was battling with her dislike of travelling without magic but, finally, the cold outside and her children's pleading triumphed, and she settled herself into the back seat between Fred and Bill with good grace.
The journey to St Mungo's was quite quick as there was very little traffic on the roads. A small trickle of witches and wizards was creeping furtively up the otherwise deserted street to visit the hospital. Y/n and the others got out of the car, and Mundungus drove off around the corner to wait for them. They had arrived outside a large, old-fashioned, red-brick department store called Purge & Dowse Ltd. The place had a shabby, miserable air, the window displays consisted of a few chipped dummies with their wigs askew, standing at random and modelling fashions at least ten years out of date. Large signs on all the dusty doors read. 'Closed for Refurbishment'.
Mrs Weasley strolled casually towards the window where the dummy in green nylon stood, then, stepped through the glass disappearing. One by one the others followed her appearing inside St Mungo's.
The reception area looked pleasantly festive, the crystal orbs that illuminated St. Mungo's had been coloured red and gold to become gigantic, glowing Christmas baubles, holly hung around every doorway, and shining white Christmas trees covered in magical snow and icicles glittered in every corner, each one topped with a gleaming gold star. Halfway across the room Harry found himself shunted aside by a witch with a satsuma jammed up her left nostril.
"Family argument, eh?" smirked the blonde witch behind the desk. "You're the third I've seen today...Spell Damage, fourth floor."
They found Mr Weasley propped up in bed with the remains of his turkey dinner on a tray on his lap and a rather sheepish expression on his face.
"Everything all right, Arthur?" asked Mrs. Weasley, after they had all greeted Mr. Weasley and handed over their presents.
"Fine, fine." said Mr. Weasley, a little too heartily. "You...er...haven't seen Healer Smethwyck, have you?"
"No." said Mrs Weasley suspiciously. "Why?"
"Nothing, nothing." said Mr. Weasley airily, starting to unwrap his pile of gifts. "Well, everyone had a good day? What did you all get for Christmas? Oh, Harry... this is absolutely wonderful!" For he had just opened Harry's gift of fuse-wire and screwdrivers.
Mrs. Weasley did not seem entirely satisfied with Mr. Weasley's answer. As her husband leaned over to shake Harry's hand, she peered at the bandaging under his nightshirt.
"Arthur." she said, with a snap in her voice like a mousetrap. "You've had your bandages changed. Why have you had your bandages changed a day early, Arthur? They told me they wouldn't need doing until tomorrow."
"What?" said Mr Weasley, looking rather frightened and pulling the bed covers higher up his chest. "No, no...it's nothing...it's...I..."
He seemed to deflate under Mrs. Weasley's piercing gaze.
"Well...now don't get upset, Molly, but Augustus Pye had an idea. He's the Trainee Healer, you know, lovely young chap and very interested in...um...complementary medicine...I mean, some of these old Muggle remedies...well, they're called stitches, Molly, and they work very well on--on Muggle wounds..."
Mrs. Weasley let out an ominous noise somewhere between a shriek and a snarl. Lupin strolled away from the bed and over to the werewolf, who had no visitors and was looking rather wistfully at the crowd around Mr. Weasley, Bill muttered something about getting himself a cup of tea and Fred and George leapt up to accompany him, grinning.
"Do you mean to tell me." said Mrs. Weasley, her voice growing louder with every word and apparently unaware that her fellow visitors were scurrying for cover. "That you have been messing about with Muggle remedies?"
"Not messing about, Molly, dear." said Mr. Weasley imploringly. "It was just...just something Pye and I thought we'd try, only, most unfortunately...well, with these particular kinds of wounds it doesn't seem to work as well as we'd hoped..."
"Meaning?"
"Well...well, I don't know whether you know what...what stitches are?"
"It sounds as though you've been trying to sew your skin back together,' said Mrs. Weasley with a snort of mirthless laughter. "But even you, Arthur, wouldn't be that stupid..."
"I fancy a cup of tea, too." said Harry, jumping to his feet.
Y/n, Hermione, Ron and Ginny almost sprinted to the door with him. As it swung closed behind them, they heard Mrs. Weasley shriek. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THAT'S THE GENERAL IDEA?"
"Typical Dad." said Ginny, shaking her head as they set off up the corridor. "Stitches...I ask you .."
"Well, you know, they do work well on non-magical wounds." said Hermione fairly.
"Do they?" Y/n asked.
Hermione nodded. "I suppose something in that snake's venom dissolves them or something. I wonder where the tearoom is?"
"Fifth floor." said Harry, remembering the sign over the welcomewitch's desk on his first visit here.
They walked along the corridor, through a set of double doors and found a rickety staircase lined with more portraits of brutal-looking Healers. As they climbed it, the various Healers called out to them, diagnosing odd complaints and suggesting horrible remedies. Ron was seriously affronted when a medieval wizard called out that he clearly had a bad case of spattergroit.
"And what's that supposed to be?" he asked angrily, as the Healer pursued him through six more portraits, shoving the occupants out of the way.
"Tis a most grievous affliction of the skin, young master, that will leave you pockmarked and more gruesome even than you are now..."
"Watch who you're calling gruesome!" said Ron, his ears turning red.
"The only remedy is to take the liver of a toad, bind it tight about your throat, stand naked at the full moon in a barrel of eels' eyes..."
"I have not got spattergroit!" Ron shouted now.
"But the unsightly blemishes upon your visage, young master..."
"They're freckles!" said Ron furiously. "Now get back in your own picture and leave me alone!'
He rounded on the others, who were all keeping determinedly straight faces. "What floor's this?"
"I think it's the fifth." said Hermione.
"Nah, it's the fourth." said Harry. "One more..."
But as he stepped on to the landing he came to an abrupt halt, staring at the small window set into the double doors that marked the start of a corridor signposted SPELL DAMAGE. A man was peering out at them all with his nose pressed against the glass. He had wavy blond hair, bright blue eyes and a broad vacant smile that revealed dazzlingly white teeth.
"Blimey!" said Ron, also staring at the man.
"Oh, my goodness." said Hermione suddenly, sounding breathless.
"Lockhart..." Y/n uttered the man's name surprised to see him.
Their ex-Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher pushed open the doors and moved towards them, wearing a long lilac dressing gown.
"Well, hello there!" he said. "I expect you'd like my autograph, would you?"
"Hasn't changed much, has he?" Harry muttered to Ginny, who grinned.
"Er...how are you, Professor?" said Ron, sounding slightly guilty. It had been Ron's malfunctioning wand that had damaged Professor Lockhart's memory so badly that he had landed in St. Mungo's in the first place, though as Lockhart had been attempting to permanently wipe Y/n, Harry and Ron's memories at the time, Y/n had little sympathy for the man.
"I'm very well indeed, thank you!" said Lockhart exuberantly, palling a rather battered peacock-feather quill from his pocket. "Now, how many autographs would you like? I can do joined-up writing now, you know!"
'"Er...we don't want any at the moment, thanks." said Ron, raising his eyebrows at Harry.
"Mr Lockheart, should you be wandering around the corridors? Should you not be in a ward?" Y/n asked.
The smile faded slowly from Lockhart's face. For a few moments he gazed intently at Y/n then at Harry, then he said. "Haven't we met?"
"Er...yeah, we have." said Harry. "You used to teach us at Hogwarts, remember?"
"Teach?" repeated Lockhart, looking faintly unsettled. "Me? Did I?"
And then the smile reappeared upon his face so suddenly it was rather alarming.
"Taught you everything you know, I expect, did I? Well, how about those autographs, then? Shall we say a round dozen, you can give them to all your little friends then and nobody will be left out!"
But just then a head poked out of a door at the far end of the corridor and a voice called. "Gilderoy, you naughty boy, where have you wandered off to?" A motherly-looking Healer wearing a tinsel wreath in her hair came bustling up the corridor, smiling warmly at them all.
"Oh, Gilderoy, you've got visitors! How lovely, and on Christmas Day, too! Do you know, he never gets visitors, poor lamb, and I can't think why, he's such a sweetie, aren't you?"
"We're doing autographs!" Gilderoy told the Healer with another glittering smile. "They want loads of them, won't take no for an answer! I just hope we've got enough photographs!"
"Listen to him." said the Healer, taking Lockhart's arm and beaming fondly at him as though he were a precocious two-year-old. "He was rather well known a few years ago, we very much hope that this liking for giving autographs is a sign that his memory might be starting to come back. Will you step this way? He's in a closed ward, you know, he must have slipped out while I was bringing in the Christmas presents, the door's usually kept locked...not that he's dangerous! But..." she lowered her voice to a whisper. "He's a bit of a danger to himself, bless him...doesn't know who he is, you see, wanders off and can't remember how to get back. It is nice of you to have come to see him."
"Er." said Ron, gesturing uselessly at the floor above. "Actually, we were just...er..."
But the Healer was smiling expectantly at them, and Ron's feeble mutter of 'going to have a cup of tea' trailed away into nothingness. They looked at each other helplessly, then followed Lockhart and his Healer along the corridor.
"Let's not stay long." Ron said quietly.
The Healer pointed her wand at the door of the Janus Thickey Ward and muttered. "Alohomora." The door swung open and she led the way inside, keeping a firm grasp on Gilderoy's arm until she had settled him into an armchair beside his bed.
"This is our long-term residents ward." she informed Harry, Ron, Y/n Hermione and Ginny in a low voice. "For permanent spell damage, you know. Of course, with intensive remedial potions and charms and a bit of luck, we can produce some improvement. Gilderoy does seem to be getting back some sense of himself, and we've seen a real improvement in Mr. Bode, he seems to be regaining the power of speech very well, though he isn't speaking any language we recognise yet. Well, I must finish giving out the Christmas presents, I'll leave you all to chat."
They all looked around. The ward bore unmistakeable signs of being a permanent home to its residents. They had many more personal effects around their beds than in Mr Weasley's ward, the wall around Gilderoy's headboard, for instance, was papered with pictures of himself, all beaming toothily and waving at the new arrivals. He had autographed many of them to himself in disjointed, childish writing. The moment he had been deposited in his chair by the Healer, Gilderoy pulled a fresh stack of photographs towards him, seized a quill and started signing them all feverishly.
"You can put them in envelopes." he said to Ginny, throwing the signed pictures into her lap one by one as he finished them. "I am not forgotten, you know, no, I still receive a very great deal of fan mail...Gladys Gudgeon writes weekly, I just wish I knew why..." He paused, looking faintly puzzled, then beamed again and returned to his signing with renewed vigour. "I suspect it is simply my good looks!"
A sallow-skinned, mournful-looking wizard lay in the bed opposite staring at the ceiling, he was mumbling to himself and seemed quite unaware of anything around him. Two beds along was a woman whose entire head was covered in fur. Y/n remembered something similar happening to Hermione during their second year, although fortunately the damage, in her case, had not been permanent. At the far end of the ward flowery curtains had been drawn around two beds to give the occupants and their visitors some privacy.
"Here you are, Agnes." said the Healer brightly to the furry-faced woman, handing her a small pile of Christmas presents. "See, not forgotten, are you? And your son's sent an owl to say he's visiting tonight, so that's nice, isn't it?"
Agnes gave several loud barks.
"And look, Broderick, you've been sent a pot plant and a lovely calendar with a different fancy hippogriff for each month, they'll brighten things up, won't they?" said the Healer, bustling along to the mumbling man, setting a rather ugly plant with long, swaying tentacles on the bedside cabinet and fixing the calendar to the wall with her wand. "And...oh, Mrs. Longbottom, are you leaving already?"
Y/n's head span round. Had he heard that correctly...Longbottom?
The curtains had been drawn back from the two beds at the end of the ward and two visitors were walking back down the aisle between the beds, a formidable-looking old witch wearing a long green dress, a moth-eaten fox fur and a pointed hat decorated with what was unmistakeably a stuffed vulture and, trailing behind her looking thoroughly depressed Neville.
With a sudden rush of understanding, Y/n realized who the people in the end beds must be.
Ron had also looked up at the sound of the name 'Longbottom', and before Harry could stop him had called out. "Neville!"
Neville jumped and cowered as though a bullet had narrowly missed him.
"It's us, Neville!" said Ron brightly, getting to his feet. "Have you seen? Lockhart's here! Who've you been visiting?"
"Friends of yours, Neville, dear?" said Neville's grandmother graciously, bearing down upon them all.
Neville looked as though he would rather be anywhere in the world but here. A dull purple flush was creeping up his plump face and he was not making eye contact with any of them.
"Ah, yes." said his grandmother, looking closely at Harry and sticking out a shrivelled, clawlike hand for him to shake. "Yes, yes, I know who you are, of course. Neville speaks most highly of you."
"Er...thanks." said Harry, shaking hands. Neville did not look at them, but surveyed his own feet, the colour deepening in his face all the while.
"And you two are clearly Weasleys." Mrs. Longbottom continued, proffering her hand regally to Ron and Ginny in turn. "Yes, I know your parents, not well, of course, but fine people, fine people....and you must be Hermione Granger?"
Hermione looked rather startled that Mrs. Longbottom knew her name, but shook hands all the same.
"Yes, Neville's told me all about you. Helped him out of a few sticky spots, haven't you?"
"Er...yes ma'am." Hermione said.
"Which leaves Y/n Grindelwald..." Neville's grandmother said turning her attention towards him.
Y/n did not say anything but found that he could not meet her gaze. Was it perhaps his parents who placed the two people in those beds?
"Neville has told me quite a lot about you." Neville's grandmother continued. "A talented boy from what I hear, but you have your grandfather's kindness."
"My Grandfather?" Y/n said quickly looking up.
"A brave and kind man. Frieda was devastated with his sacrifice." Neville's grandmother continued.
"I do not..." Y/n began but she interrupted.
"Neville says you look out for him at times too. He's a good boy." she said, casting a sternly appraising look down her rather bony nose at Neville. "But he hasn't got his father's talent, I'm afraid to say." And she jerked her head in the direction of the two beds at the end of the ward, so that the stuffed vulture on her hat trembled alarmingly.
"What?" said Ron, looking amazed. "Is that your dad down the end, Neville?"
"What's this?" said Mrs. Longbottom sharply. "Haven't you told your friends about your parents, Neville?"
Neville took a deep breath, looked up at the ceiling and shook his head. Harry could not remember ever feeling sorrier for anyone, but he could not think of any way of helping Neville out of the situation.
"Well, it's nothing to be ashamed of!" said Mrs. Longbottom angrily. "You should be proud, Neville, proud! They didn't give their health and their sanity so their only son would be ashamed of them, you know!"
"I'm not ashamed." said Neville, very faintly, still looking anywhere but at the others. Ron was now standing on tiptoe to look over at the inhabitants of the two beds.
"Well, you've got a funny way of showing it!" said Mrs. Longbottom. "My son and his wife." she said, turning haughtily to Harry, Ron, Y/n, Hermione and Ginny. "They were tortured into insanity by You-Know-Who's followers.
Hermione and Ginny both clapped their hands over their mouths. Ron stopped craning his neck to catch a glimpse of Neville's parents and looked mortified.
Y/n could only look down at the floor now, his worst fears had been confirmed.
"They were Aurors, you know, and very well respected within the wizarding community." Mrs Longbottom went on. "Highly gifted, the pair of them. I...yes, Alice dear, what is it?"
Neville's mother had come edging down the ward in her nightdress. She no longer had the plump, happy-looking face Harry had seen in Moody's old photograph of the original Order of the Phoenix. Her face was thin and worn now, her eyes seemed overlarge and her hair, which had turned white, was wispy and dead-looking. She did not seem to want to speak, or perhaps she was not able to, but she made timid motions towards Neville, holding something in her outstretched hand.
"Again?" said Mrs Longbottom, sounding slightly weary. "Very well, Alice dear, very well... Neville, take it, whatever it is."
But Neville had already stretched out his hand, into which his mother dropped an empty Drooble's Best Blowing Gum wrapper.
"Very nice, dear." said Neville's grandmother in a falsely cheery voice, patting his mother on the shoulder.
But Neville said quietly. "Thanks, Mum."
His mother tottered away, back up the ward, humming to herself. Neville looked around at the others, his expression defiant, as though daring them to laugh, but Y/n did not think he'd ever found anything less funny in his life.
Y/n just stepped forward and put his hands on Neville's shoulders as Neville looked at him. "Do not ever dare question whether you belong in Gryffindor again Neville Longbottom. For when asked what the bravery in Gryffindor represents I will now always think of you. Your parents would be proud of how strong you have been Neville, and how strong you will continue to be."
Neville just looked at Y/n unable to utter a word.
"Well, we'd better get back." sighed Mrs. Longbottom, drawing on long green gloves. "Very nice to have met you all. Neville, put that wrapper in the bin, she must have given you enough of them to paper your bedroom by now."
But as they left, Y/n was sure he saw Neville slip the sweet wrapper into his pocket.
The door closed behind them.
"I never knew." said Hermione, who looked tearful.
"Nor did I." said Ron rather hoarsely.
"Nor me." whispered Ginny.
They all looked at Harry.
"I did." he said glumly. "Dumbledore told me but I promised I wouldn't tell anyone...that's what Bellatrix Lestrange got sent to Azkaban for, using the Cruciatus Curse on Neville's parents until they lost their minds."
"Bellatrix Lestrange did that?" whispered Hermione, horrified. "That woman Kreacher's got a photo of in his den?"
There was a long silence, broken by Lockhart's angry voice.
"Look, I didn't learn joined-up writing for nothing, you know!"
It was late in the evening now back at Grimmauld place, Everyone had just enjoyed their Christmas dinner with Sirius, Fred and George being providers of great entertainment. As they danced and sang Hermione would catch Y/n's eyes flickering to the kitchen door every so often as he engaged in conversation with Lupin about Defence against the Dark Arts.
When dessert had been finished and everyone had excused themselves from the table Hermione rose from her seat and quickly took Y/n's hand as she led him out of the Kitchen.
"Where are they going?" Ron asked the others.
"Come on Ron, they'll be giving each other their Christmas presents." Ginny told him.
But Ron just looked confused. "Why couldn't they have done that this morning when everyone got their gifts?"
"Merlin's beard..." Ginny said shaking her head with disbelief at Ron's density.
Hermione meanwhile had led Y/n up to the bedroom she and Ginny were sharing. Once inside she slowly guided him to sit down on her bed. "What's been bothering you Y/n?" She asked him.
"What, Oh." He said realizing he'd been caught out. "Well, it is nothing really." He rubbed the back of his neck.
"Y/n, you can tell me if something is bothering you. You know that right?" Hermione said to him taking his hand.
"I was just hoping my Grandmother might show up...that is all." Y/n admitted to her.
"Oh Y/n..." Hermione said understanding he was missing her.
"I understand she has an important mission from Dumbledore, but since talking to Ms Longbottom this afternoon I have had a question burning in my mind like a hot poker." Y/n started. "I want to know what happened to my Grandfather. No one ever talks about him Hermione, not even my Grandmother who always looked so pained by the mere mention of his name."
"I don't know Y/n, I'm sorry." Hermione said wishing she had the answers for him. "Maybe Sirius and Lupin might know, they were in the Order the first time around."
Y/n sighed shaking his head instead. "I tried asking them both. Professor Lupin quickly became very quiet and turned the topic to the Dark Arts." Y/n revealed. "I thought I might have had some luck with Sirius but as the topic came up Mrs Weasley immediately started clearing her throat and frowning at him so he burst into song with Fred and George joining in. It's like they've all taken an oath of silence."
"What do you know about him?" Hermione asked Y/n.
"All I know about him is that he was on our side and that he died when Atticus and I were very young." Y/n said as he let out a sigh and shook his head. "There is no point thinking about this anymore, I will just have to ask Grandmother about it in the summer when I see her next." He conceded. "Anyway, there is something more important to talk about, Presents." He said cheering up with a small smile.
Hermione gave him a small smile as she squeezed his hand lightly with assurance.
"Wait here a moment." Hermione told him as she got up and went to her case taking out a large square wrapped parcel. "Merry Christmas Y/n." Hermione said looking at him with a warm smile as she handed it to him.
Y/n unwrapped the parcel in hand to find it was a large and very old vinyl record.
"It's music by the composer you liked listening to back at my house with Dad and in the Room of Requirement." Hermione told him. "Mum and Dad managed to track one down in a shop, because it's a vinyl it will work in the wizarding world whenever you want to listen to it." Hermione explained to him. "I thought you would like it more than a homework planner, not that you would need one of course."
But Y/n cut Hermione off with a kiss as she stopped then closed her eyes and kissed him back. The two stayed like this for a while before they pulled away for air.
"It is wonderful Hermione, I cannot wait to use it!" Y/n told her with enthusiasm.
Hermione felt a rush of warmth inside her. Delighted he liked her present.
Y/n placed the record down on the bed as he took a small wrapped box out of his own pocket and handed it to Hermione.
She took it and wrapped it to find a small box that she took the lid off of to find two small blank metal plates, one made of gold and the other silver.
Y/n could see her confusion so he decided to explain. "I thought we could perhaps make it a yearly tradition to gift one other a small plate metal that matches their charm bracelet." Y/n said as he lifted Hermione's arm to show hers. "This way we can transfigure them into what we like, something that represents us, What do you think?" He asked.
"Y/n It's....brilliant!" Hermione burst out as she hugged him. "It's both so thoughtful and so clever! It means our gifts every year are more personal, that we can mark every Christmas spent together and it challenges us with magic to create something new." She began to ramble as she examined the metal plates causing Y/n to smile feeling he'd gotten it right.
"Merry Christmas Hermione." He quietly whispered.