Mother Magic and the Philosopher's stone

Chapter Twenty

"This one is yours," Parvarti said, pointing to the present stack closest to him. Harry picks up the first one, a book like shape that appeared to be from Padma. It was wrapped in silver paper with blue bubbles that raced around the page. When he poked one, it burst, and reformed again before continuing to move. Carefully unwrapping it, because tearing such pretty paper would be a travesty, Harry unearthed a beautiful book about Indian Quidditch, with an incredible detailed illustration of two men standing on brooms and throwing hexes. The title was inscribed in green, stating 'Jahdu ghend' which Harry assumed was the name of the slightly different sport.

"Wow Padma this is amazing thankyou!" Padma blushed and grinned at him.

"In India the beaters can hex other players, and they get extra points for performance. There are more rules, I'm sure, but I'm not much into Quidditch, not like you are anyway."

"Open mine!" Harry said quickly, "It's the one in the gold paper, on top!" Padma, being far less careful with the wrappings, quickly found the velvet box, and the beautiful necklace inside. It was a simple blue teardrop crystal, on a silver chain, but as girls that young do, Padma squealed, showed it to her sister, who also squealed, and put it on quickly, thanking Harry profusely for his thoughtful gift. Parvarti received a similar one, with a red jewel instead of blue. Harry smiled inwardly at his obvious expertise- you could never go wrong with house colours.

Unwrapping the other gifts quickly, Harry noted his growing collection of 'things that were his and could never be the Dursley's ' A beautiful bottle green cloak, and a small silver dragon statue that actually moved from Draco, a rememberall and sneakoscope from Neville, which turned red immediately as Ouro slithered down the steps, not enjoying being woken up to a bed empty of his speaker. Professor Snape had sent him a photo album with copies of photos of Lily, and even a few of his father. Despite his obvious distaste for James Potter, the face the dour man had gone out of his way to obtain copies of photos with him in warmed his heart, and he hoped desperately that the professor liked his gift of a transfigured flower, a Fressia that bloomed into a Canterbury Bell. A pile of Zonko's pranks and gag gifts from the Weasley twins, and a few muggle fiction novels from Hermione, who clearly had fantastic taste. The books in question were Alice In wonderland, Through The Looking Glass, and the first in a series of Lord of the Rings. Harry was excited to sink his teeth into them, and would have been more than happy to begin when Parvarti pointed out a small present, wrapped in brown paper that neither of the Ravenclaws had noticed earlier.

"It's addressed to you Harry, but has no sender." Strange, Harry thought, before testing it for harm. The tests came back negative, so he opened it, but there was something familiar about the aura, old, ancient even, and cold. It was a cloak made from a silvery fabric, that seemed to move like water as he went to try it on.

"What do you think?" Harry asked, turning to the girls. "Does it suit me?"

"Harry! You're literally invisible!" a note fell to the floor, having clearly been included in the wrapping Parvarti had read.

'It is time this was returned to you, use it well.' and Harry was inclined to follow this sage advice, he most definitely would.

--

Whilst the Patil twins had gone to join Neville and build a snowman of epic proportions with the second years, Harry had returned to his dormitory, swung the curtains shut, and pulled out his familiar journal. Today was Yuletide, which meant it was time to meet the rest of his family. Pressing himself flat against the headboard, he flicked through the sepia pages and steeled himself.

Suddenly he was falling and then he was not. The inky blackness stretched out for miles, and yet seemed to stop short a few feet away. It wasn't cold, nor warm, but goosebumps raised on pale flesh anyway, and Harry rubbed his arms in an effort to get rid of them. He felt cold, more cold than he should be for the abyss. He turned in a circle, eyes squinting in an effort to see clearer. There, in the black, was an even darker black, like the void itself amassed into a shadow darker than anything had a right to be. Was this a relative? Was this Time or Death or Fate? Lady magic preferred a mortal form, but she was more than that and never expected Harry to believe otherwise. Harry swallowed thickly, moving a few, tentative steps forward.