“Zippie, wake up “ presents!”
Tzipporah opened her eyes and sat up in bed. She could hear her dorm-mates unwrapping their Christmas gifts, the rustling and ripping punctuated by exclamations of joy and groans of disappointment. Tzipporah got out of bed in time to see Clarice’s nose wrinkle as she held up a luridly pink sweater, which seemed to have been bought in a muggle shop.
“Mum never listens when I tell her I hate pink,” Clarice groaned. “And it must have been expensive too. This is cashmere, for Merlin’s sake! What was she thinking?”
Not expecting any presents, Tzipporah sat down across from Clarice and watched her unwrap a box of Bertie Bott’s Every-Flavor Beans from Millie, a charm bracelet from Rosa and Annika, and more costly muggle clothes from her parents.
“Oh, Zip, it’s wonderful!” exclaimed Clarice when she opened Tzipporah’s gift. Tzipporah had spent two galleons (converted from Austrian schillings) on a pygmy Flooshing Swonker tree; Herbology was Clarice’s favorite subject. “Thank you!”
“It was nothing,” Tzipporah said as she carefully selected a Bertie Bott’s bean from Clarice’s box.
“What did you get for Millie?” Clarice asked, making a face and spitting out the bean she had been chewing.
“A self-spelling quill with an extra long-lasting charm,” Tzipporah replied with a smile. “You know how indecipherable her essays always are.”
Clarice laughed, then looked around Tzipporah, as if searching for something.
“Why don’t you open your presents?”
“Hmm?” said Tzipporah, still choosing a bean and not really listening.
“Your presents.” Clarice looked at Tzipporah as though she were behaving oddly. Tzipporah turned to look behind her at the foot of her bed. A pair of gifts was indeed waiting for her. Tateh already sent me my Chanukah present. Who can those be from?
“I didn’t expect…” Tzipporah broke off, confused.
“What, did you think Millie and I would just forget about you?” Clarice stood up, walked over to the pile, and tossed Tzipporah a small box. Tzipporah opened it with fumbling fingers.
Inside was a polished silver ornament in the shape of a soaring bird, its outstretched wings detailed with intricate feathers. Tzipporah held the tiny figure in her cupped palm, filled with awe at its exquisite delicacy.
“Did you buy this?” she whispered to Clarice.
“I did, and then Millie got her brother to put a charm on it. Watch!”
Clarice whipped out her wand and gave the bird a gentle tap. Immediately it leapt into the air and glided in a circle around the room before landing gracefully in Tzipporah’s hand and freezing once more.
“It’s…it’s amazing,” was all Tzipporah could say.
Too bad it will never hang on a tree.
Clarice seemed to be trying to gauge Tzipporah’s reaction, her eyes fixed intently on her friend’s face. Not wanting to seem ungrateful, Tzipporah got up and hugged Clarice warmly.
“Thank you so much. It’s the most beautiful gift I’ve ever gotten.”
Clarice appeared to be satisfied. After Tzipporah had opened her other gift, which turned out to be a beautifully illustrated book on Defense Against the Dark Arts from Rosa and Annika, she and Clarice went down to breakfast. Tzipporah thought she might have been imagining it, but it looked like Clarice was watching her more closely than usual, although she hadn’t any idea why.
“Oh, do come to the great hall with me, Zippie,” Clarice begged a few hours after breakfast. “Jolene Hywel’s just been down there and she told me it looks a dream!”
Tzipporah shut her astronomy book with a satisfying thump; she had been studying for the last hour and was quite willing to take a break.
Tzipporah felt her breath catch in her chest when she and Clarice poked their heads into the great hall. Since breakfast that morning it had experienced an unbelievable transformation. Twelve spruce trees stood towering above their heads, bedecked in candles, tinsel, and glass orbs (each of which, Tzipporah discovered, contained a tiny glowing fairy). The spicy fragrance of the tree boughs mixed with the scents of Christmas dinner to form an intoxicating perfume. The walls were adorned with streamers of red, gold, and green, and piles of silver crackers already sat waiting upon the house tables. Tzipporah had to admit it was splendid, but at the same time she missed the sight of a glowing menorah and the smell of frying oil.
Upon request, Dr. Stein had not sent Tzipporah any traditional Chanukah foods after she had insisted that latkes and sufganyot (potato pancakes and jelly doughnuts) would not travel well by owl post. He had, however, sent a heap of chocolate gelt and a wooden dreidel; the former she had given away to her friends, calling it “muggle candy”, while the latter was now hidden in her trunk with her candlesticks and prayer book.
Dr. Stein had warned Tzipporah that coming home for the holiday break would have been too difficult to manage, not to mention dangerous. Vienna was still free from German control, but no one could predict for how long. When Tzipporah had told Clarice that she was staying at Hogwarts, her friend had insisted on remaining as well. Millie had tried to stay too, but had been forcefully removed by her mother on the last day of term and would not return until New Year’s Day.
I wish there was just one thing to remind me of the holiday at home, Tzipporah thought as she watched Professor Barwick levitate popcorn strings onto the nearest tree.
“Mmmm, I smell a Christmas ham.” Clarice sniffed the air and turned to Tzipporah. “Even a vegetarian can’t resist that!”
Tzipporah gave a small smile. “Trust me, I can.”
As the girls walked back up to Gryffindor tower, Tzipporah lifted her own spirits by reminding herself that Chanukah began that night. It was now too cold for her to visit the beech tree at the edge of the lake, but she had decided to at least light the candles and sing the prayers in the girl’s bathroom for the next eight nights. With so many people gone for the holidays Tzipporah was not afraid of being interrupted.
Christmas dinner was, as expected, delicious. Tzipporah eschewed from all the meat, but found it more difficult than usual to resist the enticing aroma of the brisket platter. It’s not kosher, it’s not kosher, Tzipporah reminded herself whenever she felt her resolution slipping, and would hastily put another green bean into her mouth.
“Zippie, the Johnson cousins invited me to sing carols with them after dinner in the common room. Want to come?” Clarice asked. “I can teach you all the English ones if you don’t know the words.”
“No, thanks. I need to study astronomy for a bit this afternoon. I’m still having trouble putting Jupiter’s moons in the right places.”
“Oh, come on, Zip, it’s the holidays! You can study when lessons start again. Even I’m not bothering, and you know how much I care about my marks.”
“No, really. I can’t sing anyway. I’d just ruin the caroling. Go on without me.”
Clarice gave Tzipporah a disappointed look but pressed her no further. After dinner Clarice joined the Johnson cousins while Tzipporah trekked up to the unoccupied dormitory with her astronomy book, struggling to forget the suspicion she had seen in Clarice’s eyes.
That night, after the breathing of her roommates had turned to gentle snores, Tzipporah crept out of bed and grabbed her bag containing her menorah, candles, and prayer book. Making sure not to wake any of the other Gryffindors she tiptoed down the stairs and into the girl’s bathroom.
Minutes later Tzipporah had lit the shamas and the first of the eight candles, which cast dim, flickering shadows on the tiled walls.
“A-a-men,” Tzipporah sang as she finished singing the last of the three blessings, her voice lingering over the last note. Sadly she recalled the first magic she had ever experienced, a magic somehow deeper than anything at Hogwarts: hearing the sound of her congregation singing the prayers when her parents had brought her to her first service. Singing in the synagogue was perhaps the thing she missed most about Vienna, apart from her father.
Echoes of Tzipporah’s final note were still reverberating against the bathroom walls when a noise issued from the doorway. Tzipporah knew what was coming only a second before it happened.
Clarice, wearing a robe over her nightdress, walked into the bathroom with her wand tip lit. She and Tzipporah stared at each other for a few moments by the combined light of the wand and the menorah, neither one knowing what to say.
“I knew you could sing,” Clarice said, finally breaking the silence. “I knew there was another reason you wouldn’t sing carols with me.”
Tzipporah didn’t know how to respond to this.
“So this is what you’ve been hiding, then.”
Here we go. Tzipporah gulped but stood her ground. “And what do you think ‘this’ is, exactly?”
Clarice looked unsure. “I don’t know. But Millie and I have thought for a long time that you had a secret you weren’t telling us. You’re always sneaking off when you think we’re asleep, or mumbling things to yourself. And the bread and candles your father sends once a week “ it’s all connected!” Clarice paused, seemingly amazed that her usually quiet voice could be so sharp. Tzipporah was surprised too; she had never thought her friend possessed that kind of force.
“All the nights you’ve gone missing from the dormitory, and never eating meat, and not expecting presents on Christmas…And now this!” Clarice gestured at the menorah resting on the edge of the sink. “You can’t deny you have a secret anymore, Zippie. So you’d best tell me what it is.”
Tzipporah looked down at her feet, hastily taking stock of the situation. She’s right, I can’t hide it now that she’s caught me. But what will happen when she knows?
“I guess I don’t have a choice, then.”
Clarice waited, her eyes fixed on Tzipporah’s downcast ones.
“I’m Jewish.”
Tzipporah waited for the blow to come. The gentle laughter caught her by surprise, and she looked up at Clarice warily.
“Is that all?” Clarice was smiling a relieved sort of smile. “Honestly, that’s what you’ve been hiding?”
Tzipporah nodded. She couldn’t think of anything to say.
“Oh, Zippie.” Clarice sighed. “You didn’t really think Millie and I would care about something like that, did you? I thought you knew us better than that.” Then her brow creased, and her countenance became a little harder.
“But I can’t believe you lied to us like that, Zip. How can we trust you after this?”
Tzipporah was having trouble locating her voice.
“Millie and I trusted you with loads of secrets. I even told you I have a crush on Prescott Longbottom.” Clarice blushed for a moment before resuming her tirade. “We both told you tons of other embarrassing things. We thought you’d told us everything as well, but now I find you didn’t “ you kept something huge from us. How do you think that makes me feel? It isn’t fair at all!”
“Not fair?” Tzipporah couldn’t make herself talk above a hoarse whisper. “I’ll tell you what’s not fair. I had to hide my religion because if it was known what I was I would be hated, and scorned, and mocked. That sign on the floor of the entrance hall the first morning we were here, do you remember it? Do you? It was a swastika, Clarice! Do you know what a swastika means for Jews? Death!”
Tzipporah broke off, her face flushed with emotion. Clarice stared, wide-eyed, as she continued.
“I had to hide. Oh, Clarice, I was so scared, you don’t understand. I wanted to tell you and Millie, but after that first day, I just couldn’t…”
Tzipporah put a hand to her cheek and wondered why it came away wet. Tears dripped into her mouth, tasting of salt and sadness and fear.
“Oh, Zippie.” Suddenly Clarice’s arms were around her, and they were both crying. Somewhere in the back of her mind Tzipporah wondered why that was.
“Zippie, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. Now I know, and we’ll tell Millie when she comes back, and it will all be fine. Stop “ stop crying.”
Tzipporah smiled weakly. “I’ll stop if you’ll stop.”
“Agreed,” Clarice gave a watery giggle.
They stood there in the bathroom for some time more, talking as the Chanukah candles melted down to colorful stubs in the menorah. When the light finally went out, Tzipporah and Clarice lit their wands and ascended to Gryffindor tower, still discussing the various aspects of being a Jewish witch.
Just as Tzipporah was climbing back into bed she heard Clarice gasp.
“What? What is it?”
Clarice looked at her apologetically.
“I just realized “ Millie and I got you an ornament, but you won’t ever have a Christmas tree! Oh, I feel so stupid!”
Tzipporah laughed.
“It doesn’t matter. It’s still the best present I’ve ever gotten.”
And with that, Tzipporah drifted off to sleep, feeling happier than she had done for a long time.