Certain Dark Things || Book Three

xxxiv. winter friends

Hogwarts was beautiful during the winter holidays. Though very few students remained behind once break began, the professors went to great lengths to ensure the castle was festive and welcoming for those who still lingered. Suits of armor belted out choruses of Auld Lang Syne whenever someone passed by and bunches of mistletoe threatened to follow the unawares from hall to hall. Harriet saw Snape setting more than one sprig alight—and she also saw McGonagall discreetly Charming more to sprout over his head, snickering all the while.

Despite the levity, a sense of melancholy remained around the castle, and Harriet sensed it whenever she found herself alone or when she gazed off into the distance, and the silence echoed in her ears. It was in the moments like that when Harriet remembered how old Hogwarts was, how it would have crumbled to ruins centuries ago if not for the people who continued to inhabit its wandering halls—and it made Harriet think of the Dementors surrounding them like a wreath of dark portents. It made her feel trapped—and scared.

On Christmas morning—which the wizards just called Yule morning, despite the solstice having passed days before—Harriet and Elara woke to sizable gift piles cluttering the ends of their beds. Most proved to be the expected gifts from the pure-blood families, things like parchment and quills and candy assortments, but there were also more personal presents from each other and the people they knew.

"Did Mr. Flamel send you something?" Elara asked.

"Mhm!" Harriet answered, holding up a wooden box filled with practice runes. The little tiles clattered together and emitted a soft glow. "D'you get something too?"

"Yes." The other witch unearthed a strange ball of clay from under a new cloak sent by Narcissa Malfoy.

"What's that?"

"A Transfiguration medium. It's made for practicing elemental transmutation."

"Oh, neat." Harriet popped another Chocolate Cauldron into her mouth, savoring the tangy, warming flavor as she peeled the brown parchment paper off a plain gift. She jumped when the golden Snitch inside unfurled its metal wings and took flight, but instead of winging off, it chose to fly slow circles around Harriet's head. She reached up to catch it, and it settled in her palm before flying again.

"Who sent you that?"

"I...dunno." Harriet flipped the paper over, looking for a card or a signature of some sort, but she couldn't find anything. "If it's real, specialty Snitches cost a fair bit. Maybe the card fell off."

"Harriet, there's a mass-murderer out there who—."

"And he's going to be sending me presents, is he?" Elara raised a brow, frowning, and Harriet exhaled. "All right, all right. What would you have me do?"

"At least put it up until I can check my Gringotts account. If he bought something, he'd have to get the Galleons from the Black estate."

"How would he manage that?"

"Goblins have their own sovereignty from wizards. Gringotts serves as a foreign embassy of sorts, meaning Black could very well walk right in if he wanted, and as Head of the House, he has final control over the vault's assets."

"That's dumb." Harriet popped another Chocolate Cauldron into her mouth and hiccuped. "I already touched it and stuff, though, and isn't the post supposed to be screened?"

Elara exhaled, muttering on the worthlessness of post-screening spells—and then paused, eying Harriet before setting aside another gift. "...Harriet."

"Mmm?"

"Are you feeling well?"

Harriet blinked, confused. "Um. Yeah, why?"