“I don’t suppose we can persuade him to get rid of it?” Hermione flopped back against the cushions.
“That man desperately needs someone to explain the meaning of the word dangerous. Three-headed dogs, pet dragons… what’s next? Giant man-eating spiders?”
“I could actually see the dog being cute,” Harry said thoughtfully.
Both friends turned to stare at him.
“What? If it wasn’t snarling and trying to eat me—if it was just slobbering and wagging its tails—it could be adorable.”
“It could squash you under one paw like a bug,” Neville said, face completely blank.
“It could tear you into literal thirds,” Hermione added.
“I was only saying,” Harry muttered.
“Fang’s cute.”
“Fang is not the size of a small house,” Hermione replied dryly.
“Moving on!” Harry raised both hands in surrender.
“Didn’t the twins mention one of their brothers works with dragons? Could we ask them to contact him?”
“They’d want to know why,” Hermione pointed out.
“We might as well tell them,” Neville shrugged.
“They’d probably get the dragon out more easily than we could anyway.”
“If they agree, we help them,” Harry said firmly.
“Hagrid’s our friend. We can’t just leave him to get into trouble. Until then, though, let’s see if we can find anything about this Flamel person.”
The other two nodded.
Shortly afterwards the three of them headed upstairs to bed.
Christmas arrived at Hogwarts Castle.
Harry had not cared much at first—Neville and Hermione had both gone home to their families—but his opinion changed the moment he woke and found real presents waiting beside his bed.
It was the first time anyone had ever given him anything beyond threadbare socks or, on a particularly good and quiet day, a fifty-pence piece.
He only wished his new friends had been there to share it. The source of this chapter is g.com.
Neville had left him a broom-polishing kit.
The twins had sent a box of Bertie Bott’s Every-Flavour Beans, complete with a note guaranteeing the sweets were untampered with.
Hermione’s gift was a new etching set whose tools were far finer than anything he currently owned.
Shiva had sent a small, sturdy box with a note explaining it was a spell-resistant, tamper-proof lockbox designed specifically for volatile rune clusters.
The final two presents, however, caused trouble in the dormitory.
“How am I supposed to know why your mother sent me a Weasley jumper, Ron?” Harry scowled.
“I’ve never even met the woman!”
“You must have done something! Those are family jumpers! You’ve got no business wearing one!” Ron snarled.
“It’s not something!”
my fault she sent me
“Well it’s certainly not mine!”
“You’re both right—it’s our fault Mum sent anything,” Fred said, walking in with a frown.
“At least, we think it is,” George added, following his twin.
“What the bloody hell did you two do?” Ron rounded on them.
“We may have mentioned in a letter that Harry said he wasn’t expecting any presents.” Fred winced.
“Sorry, mate. We never thought she’d go and knit you a jumper over it.”
Harry looked down at the soft red wool.
“Honestly, it’s a bit odd. But I do appreciate the thought—it was a kind gesture. A note with it would have made things less awkward, though.”
“Mum can be a bit much sometimes,” George sighed. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
“How can you be all right with this?” Ron growled.
“He’s not a Weasley!”
Fred’s voice turned unusually serious.
“Ron, just because Harry isn’t a Weasley doesn’t mean he isn’t a friend.”
“Lee Jordan’s a friend and he doesn’t get jumpers!”
“Lee gets presents.” Fred shook his head as Ron growled incoherently.
“Thanks for the gift, by the way, Harry.”
Harry nodded.
He had sent the twins a selection of Muggle fireworks with careful instructions on safe use.
“No problem. Just don’t set them off indoors or we’ll have another Troll Incident on our hands. And thanks for the beans.”
“Enjoy them. So what’s your last present?”
Harry opened the final package.
Silvery material spilled across the floor.
Ron let out an incoherent yell.
“You got a bloody Invisibility Cloak?! Funny how the boy who supposedly never gets presents ends up with a fortune sitting right there!” Harry ignored him and turned to the twins, lifting the fabric for a closer look.
“What’s an Invisibility Cloak?” The name was fairly self-explanatory, but if Ron wanted to be angry for no reason, Harry might as well satisfy his own curiosity while needling him a little.
“Blimey, mate, they’re brilliant,” George breathed.
“Properly expensive, too. They make you invisible while you’re wearing them. Dead useful for pranksters like us. Who’s it from?”
“No idea. The note only says it used to belong to my dad and that he left it with whoever sent this when he died.”
Fred’s brow furrowed.
“If they’d had it for ten years, you’d think they could have given it back sooner.”
“Agreed.” Harry sighed.
“At least they did give it back. I’d probably never have known it existed otherwise.”