Illusions in Christmas Crackpots
Christmas arrived at Hogwarts in a flurry of snowflakes and owls delivering late Christmas presents to spoiled children, one of these being Lucifer Malfoy. He delighted in showing off all the sweets his mother had sent him, and maliciously whispered in Giselle’s ear that his father would soon avenge Lucius Malfoy. Unfortunately, Harry had never heard this and was unable to report it to Dumbledore.
The news of the attack on Giselle had spread like wildfire through the corridors of Hogwarts, and she had various girls coming up to her and telling her ‘they knew exactly how she was feeling.’ But did they? Usually, Giselle refrained from sounding tragic and using her Dad as an example of how bad her life was, but this time, and now that Wendy was on the loose, it seemed like a very valid reason.
They all complained of boy problems, problems at home and issues with various teachers, but what they didn’t realize is all of these problems were all centered in the same place for Giselle, and multiplied three-fold, what with Voldemort rising again after all these years. They just didn’t understand.
Presently, Millie and Giselle were seated at the Hufflepuff table, leaving Halle sitting at the Ravenclaw table with Lenny Longbottom, Laura and Tegan. She picked up her books and returned slowly to the Ravenclaw Common room, unbeknownst to Giselle and Millie, who were now fighting over Christmas Crack-pots, a new invention from the Weasley uncles. They had been developing a newer range of Muggle treats in honor of the traditional season, and people were now favoring the little paper varieties over the traditional Wizards Cracker. Halle heard Giselle go off in a peal of laughter and dashed through the doors and up the Grand Staircase.
“Oh, gawd,” giggled Millie, burying her face in her hands. Her face was extremely red from laughing, and Giselle’s had taken on a pinkish tinge.
Guess this is what they mean by ‘tickled pink,’ she thought, seeing as it was a little too hard to open her mouth when she knew a choking laugh would come barreling out unceremoniously.
“Okay,” Millie said, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “Here’s another classic.”
“How can you tell if a bucket is sick?”
Giselle shook her head, wondering just how you could tell if a bucket was feeling ill.
“You see if he’s a little PAIL!”
Millie let out a howl of pent up giggles and snorted out her nose.
Giselle clutched her fingers in her mouth in an attempt to stop laughing, but it exploded out anyway.
“Here,” said Harry, appearing by their sides. “I have another,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows mysteriously. He cleared his throat.
“Ahem. What is black, white and red; black, white and red?
Giselle smiled. She had heard this one before. “I know, a burnt penguin!” Harry shook his head and Giselle was silent, her expression aghast. Harry grinned.
“Nope; a sunburned zebra rolling down a hill!”
The girls erupted in laughter again, slapping the table with their hands, and there was a great rumble as people all around stamped their feet in approval of Harry’s joke. Apparently, the Christmas spirit was in full force, lowering people’s inhibitions, and letting them enjoy the holiday season even more.
Nearly Headless Nick floated over, apparently having departed from his usual position at the Gryffindor table to join in the festivities. He had managed to drag Moaning Myrtle up from the Lake, and she was now clutching Nick’s right arm possessively and giggling profusely, sneaking glances Harry’s way.
“Hello, Harry,” she cooed, sidling up next to him and letting go of Nick’s arm.
“Err, hello, Myrtle. I see you’ve joined us?”
“Of course, Harry. You know I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to see you.” She snuggled even closer, and Harry stepped sideways, his hip crashing uncomfortably into the table.
“Ahem.” Nick cleared his throat importantly, adjusting his ruff, so that his severed neck wobbled dangerously. “What did one angel say to the other angel?”
The others looked bewildered. There was silence as Nick made his announcement.
“Halo,” he said delicately, taking a small, mid-air bow. Everyone groaned simultaneously.
Myrtle looked sideways, and then approached Harry again. “Halo,” she said sweetly.
Halle plodded up the stairs to the Ravenclaw Common Room. Somehow, the noise from the Great Hall had drifted up several levels, nearly reaching the Astronomy Tower, making Halle feel about as wanted as an ant at a picnic. The chortling and guffawing had been getting on her nerves immensely, so she decided to retire to the dormitory in favor of looking melancholy in front of her cousins. Unbeknownst to her, a surprise would soon be coming her way. A late Christmas present was slowly sneaking up on her.
Behind her, Tegan and Laura cautiously crept up the stairs, herding a suave-looking young man; poking him in the back and shuffling him unceremoniously up the stairs to the ancient Eagle Statue.
* * *
Singular. Solitary. Lone. Whatever way you want to put it, Halle Weasley was alone. Giselle had been re-sorted into Hufflepuff, and now she was the only remaining of the cousins to be in Ravenclaw. True, she wasn’t entirely alone. There was Tegan and Laura, after all, but that didn’t mean she was okay with everything. Giselle and Millie had unknowingly dumped her, making her doubt their friendship. Surely Dumbledore could have seen it would be wiser to have all three girls together in the one house.
‘Not that there’s anything wrong with Ravenclaw,’ she thought, looking around the cozy common room. There were baubles of light floating lazily around the high, meticulously crafted ceiling, heavy tapestries in which second-years in black robes lined with royal blue were crowded around, deciphering their Latin texts and famous painting-lined the walls, some of them worldly renowned, like Leonardo Da Vinci’s original Madonna of the Rocks, The Mona Lisa. It still dazed Halle to think some of Da Vinci’s famous works were a result of his days spent in Ravenclaw in the early days of Hogwarts.
The overstuffed chairs Laura, Tegan and Halle were sitting in were surrounding a warm, open grate fire, not unlike the Gryffindor fireplace, but instead of a glass case holding Godric Gryffindors sword, there were a number of ornate trophies, and Halle found herself mesmerized by a gleaming bronze telescope. It wasn’t the telescope itself that was so intriguing. It was the third name down that filled Halle’s heart with a small bout of joy.
1996 ~ Hermione Granger, Gryffindor
Halle felt a small touch of pride as she stared at the brass nameplate. Her mother had been one of the brightest witches Hogwarts had ever enrolled, and Halle couldn’t believe after all her mother had gone through in her last year at Hogwarts that she would even consider coming back to teach at the school. Sure, she wasn’t going to be there after tomorrow, but still Halle couldn’t see why her mother chose the career path she did.
Her thoughts were interrupted, however, by someone placing their soft hands over her brown eyes. She started and threw her arms upwards and around the person’s arms. Only one person would dare do this to her.
“Hello, Miles,” she said softly, forcing his fingers open. The boy laughed and took his hands away from her face.
He came and slid onto the arm of her chair and placed his slender finger on top of Halle’s forehead. He parted his lips in a carefree smile which Halle had dearly missed while he was away. His tanned skin shone a healthy brown, and his chocolate puppy dog eyes sparkled mischievously. He had a elegant flop of coal black hair, and Halle often found herself wishing her own locks would look as effortless as Miles’s did right now.
Halle reached up to touch his smiling face and Miles grabbed her hand and planted a soft kiss on her hand.
“‘M’lady, thou were missed whilst I was away,” he said.
Halle laughed; it was the first time in ages she had done so, and it felt like a stony fortress surrounding her had cracked, leaving behind a gap in which happiness could flow through.
“Thou were missed too,” she said, leaving her hand within his grasp.
Laura smiled to Tegan who nodded her head and looked towards the dormitories away from Halle with a smile on her face. They got up silently and walked up the spiral stairs, sneaking a look back at the happy couple. Miles winked at them and Tegan gave him a wave. Now Halle and Miles were alone in their little secluded corner in front of the fire.
Miles seemed to have the same idea.
“You know …” he said, looking away from Tegan and focusing on Halle’s blushing face. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes lowered.
“Yes?” she inquired. Miles picked up the hint and squeezed down into the chair next to Halle. “What do you know?” she asked.
“Well …” he debated. “How much did you miss me? Enough to kiss me?” he rhymed playfully.
Halle laughed out loud and placed her arms around Miles’s neck awkwardly. She wasn’t all that accustomed to these newly intimate encounters.
“First you have to tell me why it took you so long to get back after the holidays,” she stated, staring into his mesmerizing eyes.
“Hmm…I guess I could do that first … if you make it worthwhile,” he said pretending to think about it.
“Of course, silly,” she said. Miles snuggled closer to Halle. The fire was crackling merrily, burning away all the bad feelings of the past hour.
“It was all Stephanie’s fault, of course,” he said lightly, sensing his sister’s presence behind him.
“My fault? As if, brother dear,” she said appearing round the front of the chair. She took the chair Tegan was sitting in across from Halle.
“Yes, all Stephanie’s fault,” he confirmed, stealing his sister a glance. She merely smiled and continued to sit there.
“She was the one who wanted to stay in Australia for another two weeks. Dumbledore, of course, wanted to give my mother some time off after her wedding, and thought we should keep her company,” he said, bopping Halle on the nose with his finger.
Halle wrinkled her nose and the freckles decorating it bunched together interestingly. “Australia? Isn’t that the home of kangaroos and Billywigs and crocodile’s? ” she asked skeptically.
“Well, yes,” Miles conceded, “But also home to a very ancient brand of magic.”
Halle was alert now. She loved hearing of other cultures and types of magic.
“Isn’t it all tribal magic? Like the…Abordigines?”
“Aborigines,” he corrected. “And yes, their magic is stemmed from those people.”
“So, what you mean is the Aborigines are responsible for magic in Australia?” Halle said, trying to absorb this information as fast as she could.
“Yeah, and you should see their school! It’s amazing! Goes down under the earth for ages, but you wouldn’t really know it, there’s so many enchanted windows and such.”
Miles’s voice had taken on an excited tone.
“You mean there’s a school in Australia? Where is it?” Halle asked.
“It’s right in the heart of Australia, underneath Ayers Rock, or Uluru, as the Aboriginal people called it,” he said.
“Oo-lar-oo?” said Halle, testing out the foreign words on her tongue. Miles nodded his head in agreement.
“Strange, huh? That’s the original name for it. Nowadays they call it both names, something to do with Reconciliation. Now both the white people and the Aborigines own it.”
Halle laughed as a thought struck her.
“Do they talk like that Crocodile Hunter, Steve Irwin?” she laughed. “Mum sometimes tunes into the telly when it’s on at home.” Miles laughed along with Halle at these words.
“That bloke, he’s a funny one. He just exaggerates that accent, you know. It’s not that strong. It’s just for his television show. He’s not like that in real life.”
Halle eyes widened. “You’ve met him?” she gasped incredulously. “Wow!”
“Yeah, up in Darwin”” Miles was cut off by the approach of Professor Flitwick.
“Halle Weasley! Never thought I’d have you in my house! Such an honor, of course.”
Halle looked at Miles awkwardly. She was used to praise, but this was entirely different.
“Professor, it’s not permanent, as you know,” she said.
“Yes, well, perhaps it’s for the better. At least tomorrow you’ll be back in your own common room. Professor Potter and the Headmaster have just finished repairing the common room and its dormitories,” he squeaked excitedly.
Halle’s heart leapt. She would be back together with her cousin’s tomorrow night, and everything that had happened over the last few days would be a long-lost memory.
Miles felt her happiness and gave her arm a little squeeze.
“See? Everything’s going to be fine, just like it was before I left,” he said, smiling at Halle.
“You never left,” she said softly, leaning on his arm as soon as Flitwick was gone. She gave him a peck on the cheek and squeezed out of their armchair. She walked towards the stone steps and gave him a small smile then continued up the rough steps.
Miles flumped back in the cushy armchairs with a surprised but pleased smile on his face. Halle Weasley would be his, sooner or later.
Giselle woke with a shock to find sunlight streaming down on her face. It tickled her and beckoned for her to climb out of bed and place her feet on the sun-warmed floorboards. She obeyed, and felt the comforting sense of stillness in the air fill her up like a warm tankard of Butterbeer. She let out a satisfied sigh and started as Millie woke up next to her.
“Wassthetim?” she muttered sleepily. Giselle walked over to the crafted wardrobe in the corner of the room and opened the fifth drawer, pulling out some clean underwear and a Gryffindor robe. She threw it on top of Millie who snatched the underwear off her face and stared at it confusedly.
“Huh?” she said.
“Get up,” ordered Giselle. “It’s almost time for Potions.”
Millie groaned. Today was definitely not going to be her day. Potions first, then Astronomy, then Care of Magical Creatures. As if dealing with underwear being thrown over your face, and the little polka-dots staring you straight in the eye wasn’t bad enough, she had to deal with Professor Lovegood’s Crumple-Horned Snorkack’s.
She hoisted herself out of bed and Giselle walked behind the screen that covered her body while she was getting dressed.
“Today is gonna be such a bad day,” she said, her voice floating over the screen and to Millie.
“Too right,” came Millie’s reply. “I think I might have put on a few Christmas Kilo’s.”
Giselle snorted, and Millie’s face appeared behind the screen. Giselle was thankful she was decent, because the next thing she knew, Millie had pulled her out from behind the screen and was tickling her mercilessly.
“Okay, okay,” she begged. “I’m sorry. Anyway, we’re going to be late for Potions.”
“Joy,” said Millie sourly, searching for her socks and holding up a mismatched pair. “Do you think anyone would notice?”
Giselle rolled her eyes.
Halle scooted into the class just before the bell rang, and was astounded at both herself being late, and at Giselle and Millie sitting intently at their desks, blank expressions on their faces.
Hermione dashed in just after Halle, and Halle jumped frantically towards her seat. But Hermione was taking no notice; she was turning a faint tinge of green. She leant on the desk for a moment, seemingly catching her breath, and the class watched in amazement as she turned on her heel and ran out the dungeon again, a comical sight, for her purple and mauve scarves were flying out behind her and she rushed with her big, pregnant belly preceding her into the corridor.
“Uh, Halle?”
Halle turned. Giselle and Millie were staring at Halle in amusement. It wasn’t every day your best friend’s mother dashed into the classroom, just to run right back out again two second later, looking ready to heave.
Halle turned to the front of the class timidly to open her mouth. It seemed everyone was staring at her, asking her silently what to do. Halle was stuck. She didn’t do this sort of thing; she preferred to sit down, not embarrass herself in front of the whole class. Just as she was about to open her mouth, however, her mother popped her head around the corner.
“Page one hundred and sixty-four please, The Sleeping Draught on the left hand column,” she gasped and ducked out again. The class winced as a whole as they heard her retch.
Halle walked back to her desk, a cool relief spreading over her. She had evaded the dread of public speaking, for today anyway. Just as she had settled into her, Millie and Giselle’s usual spot, which felt extremely expansive in their absence, she half-heartedly waved to them over the other side of the room and grimaced as she heard two very distinctive voices above the usual din of scraping chairs and slamming cupboards.
“Stop it!” hollered Stacey.
“No, you stop it! You were the one about to add the wrong ingredient!”
“What do you mean?” Stacey asked menacingly, jabbing her finger into Renée’s chest.
“What I mean, Stacey Hopkins,” she positively shouted, “is the fact that you seem to be almost completely immersed in yourself you don’t realize what exactly is going on around you! You almost added the hellebore before it was boiling!”
“Well, Renée Bentley, you were the one who didn’t even remember the cauldron until I got here! I can’t believe you!” she screamed, her face going a mottled red. Her outrage was so loud that even Giselle, who had witnessed every single catfight, argument and kafuffle, was now staring openmouthed at Renée and Stacey’s bickering.
Millie, who was sitting next to Giselle clucked her tongue impatiently and reverted her eyes to the book balanced in front of her.
How could I possibly be sorted into the same house as them, she thought sardonically.
Halle, who had lifted her head from the text and was now watching them with curiosity, saw Stacey throw the ladle into the now brackish and totally useless potion in a temper.
Their mixture splashed up and soaked Renée. It fizzled and frothed when it hit her skin and she wailed in pain.
Stacey, who was faced towards the dungeon wall didn’t see the look of agony on Renée’s face.
“Oh stop complaining, Renée! Nothing’s the matter. You’re such a cry baby, I wasn’t born yester-”
She stopped suddenly when she heard Renée swing open the door and slam it shut, the tears splashing down her front. She spun around, and gaped at the horrified faces of the class. She wrenched open the door again and nearly ran headlong into Hermione. She squeaked out a small “Sorry,” before they heard her footsteps as she ran pell-mell up the dungeon corridor after Renée.
Hermione fell into the chair at the front heavily, then looked at Halle. She groaned and buried her face in her hands.
Halle had shifted in her seat every slightly, so when she turned to the front, her knee collided ever slightly with that of Giselle’s, whom was seated at the Hufflepuff table behind here. She was staring at the great Gryffindor flag hanging from the Great Hall’s Cathedral ceiling when she felt a hand on her should. She abruptly turned around and knocked knees and elbows with Giselle in her haste. They gave each other sheepish looks before looking at Harry who was smiling down at them with an expression of near glee. He only had to say two words to get the girl’s hearts racing.
“It’s done.”
* * *
Everything seemed a blur as they raced upwards to Gryffindor Tower. Indeed, Halle felt as though she was running so fast she could almost see the tips of her fingers melting away into the half-shadowed darkness. When they stopped, breathless and their eyes shining in the light of the candles, Halle felt as though her poor stomach, which had been desperately trying to catch up after the last fifty meters or so, collided with her lungs and pushed all the air out of her.
“ Denique Perfectus. ”
The Fat Lady trilled with excitement and swung forward so exuberantly the girls heard the hinges crack, and the Fat Lady let out a little gasp of surprise. They ran inside, hastily saying their thanks.
The scene inside was of complete and utter chaos. People were piled three in a chair in front of the blazing (and thankfully contained, thought Halle) fire. The first-years, whom hadn’t spent as much time in the common room as most other students, were now examining things with a new light, things that Millie was almost certain had been there only a week previously. Still it seemed like a lifetime since she had seen the chipped figurine of Alberic Grunnion, his little eyes surveying the room expertly.
Giselle grabbed their hands impatiently, and Halle positively flew up the stairs. She noticed that the familiar scuffed sandstone beneath her feet had a few added scorch marks to its name, but they seemed to be the only remnant of the fire.
Millie pushed past eagerly and found herself in the Girls Dormitory. The sun was shining lazily through the window, casting rays of light over the crimson hangings. The girls flopped down on their respective beds, sighing with happiness simultaneously. Halle sat up with a mischievous look in her eye.
“I have something for you, Giselle.”
Giselle’s eyes lit up and Millie pouted. “How come I don’t have something?”
“Don’t worry,” said Halle airily, searching through her trunk. “I’m sure you’ll like it too.”
She found the silver and chrome object she was looking for, waved her wand expertly over the dials and knobs, and a loud blaring song filled the dormitory.
All three girls put their hands over their ears, jumped onto their beds and grabbed the nearest cylindrical objects.
“Ready?” shouted Halle, her cheeks flushed with excitement. The two other girls nodded excitedly.
“Alright!” she pointed her wand at the Muggle music box, and a voice came floating over the air.
The girls jumped up and down on their beds, and Halle thought as she sang into her pencil case, that they were finally home.
It's alright, I survived, I'm alive again
Cause of you, made it through every storm
What is life, what's the use if you're killing time?
I'm so glad I found an angel
Someone
Who was there when all my hopes fell
I wanna fly, looking in your eyes
Because you live and breathe
Because you make me believe in myself when nobody else can help
Because you live, girl
My world has twice as many stars in the sky
Somewhere, millions of miles away, in her small, cramped bedroom, a teenage girl stared intently at the screen of her faithful personal computer. She typed furiously for one minute, then stared at the white ceiling lost in deep thought, raised her fingers to her mouth and gnawed at her fingernails intently.
She dropped here hands to the keyboard, took a sip of the fizzy looking substance in front of her, and then sighed with contentment as finally, she finished her long awaited chapter of her story.
She shifted her mouse, clicked hurriedly twice before leaping out of the chair and under the covers of her bed. She listened to the footsteps outside her room die down and walk back up the hall before crawling out of bed and turning off the computer. At last the monotonous sigh of the fan died down and she crawled back into her bed slowly this time, savoring her success.
Her last thought before she passed into sleep was a hopeful wish that tomorrow, there would be a new email in her inbox, notifying her of a review.
*SSSQQQUUEEEEEEEEEEEE*
My god, it has been a while Too long!
Back in August, only a week after I had sent my beta a few chapters, my computer died suddenly and I was not able to revive it. So died the original chapter 11 Illusions and with it, Chapter 12 Golden Opportunities.
Illusions has since been re-christened, seeing as Christmas eve I got into the spirit and wrote Christmas Crackpots as a filler. Unfortunately, it was no where near the minimum required word count. So, I started the tedious job of re-typing a chapter, as some of you know can be a hard process.
So, I present to you Illusions IN Christmas Crackpots.
I hope you enjoyed it, so do as the virtual Steph bids, and leave a review < / bossiness >
As for criticism from the mods- Love it. Embrace it.