"Promise you won't open it until Christmas?"
"Swear, Gerard." Frank gave his boyfriend a sweet smile as a flood of students made their way to the carriages behind them to get to the Hogwarts Express. It was early in the morning; the sun was barely creeping over the horizon.
Frank and Gerard had chosen this day to exchange their gifts. Frank's gift to Gerard was wrapped in simple, brown paper. Gerard's gift to Frank was wrapped in golden paper with a black bow sitting on top of it.
"I'll miss you." Gerard said before Frank pressed a soft kiss to his lips, "I'll write."
"You'll be back in no time." Frank laughed, reaching up to push aside some of the longer strands of Gerard's white hair. "Enjoy home. Give Mikey some hell."
"What the hell, Frank?" Mikey asked from where he was stood just a few feet away. Both Frank and Gerard laughed.
The final carriages were pulling up, now. Gerard hugged Frank tightly, feeling a strange mixture of emotions. He was so happy to go home, but so torn to leave Frank here for the holidays. There were other students and teachers around, but Gerard was sad for Frank missing out on his family.
"Gerard, we're going to be late! I'll tell mum it's your fault!"
"I'm coming!" Gerard hollered to his brother as he pulled away from Frank. He gave the Slytherin a sad smile, "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas." Frank repeated, returning the same exact smile. Gerard waved as he back stepped before turning and hurrying to the carriage. Frank watched the carriage door close and head off towards the Hogwarts Express. He stayed in place a bit longer after they vanished from sight.
He looked down at the present Gerard had given him. The wrapping shimmered in the growing morning light, accented quite beautifully by the black ribbon encasing it.
Frank smiled at the box. How had he been so lucky to have someone like Gerard?
---
Dallon stirred the potion brewing in the first floor girls bathroom. His hair was a mess, he had smudges of ingredients covering him, but a look of determination was plastered on his face. He was so focused, that he didn't even notice Jamia slip into the large room.
"How does it look?" She asked, briskly walking over to the Ravenclaw.
"Dunno..." Dallon replied, absently, "Never brewed this before..."
Jamia sat down next to Dallon, pulling a liquorice wand from her robes. "You're the best at Potions in our year, though, if not the whole school." She said as she broke the candy in half to offer Dallon some.
He thanked her, softly, never looking away from the murky potion in front of him. "How did you even get the ingredients?" He asked after taking a bite of the candy.
"I know people." Jamia shrugged. She was going to add on, but stopped when she noticed Dallon's sudden sniffing of the air after he dropped something in the cauldron. "What are you doing?"
"Do you smell that?" He asked with a pondering look.
"Smell what?" Jamia questioned as the potion shifted dramatically in color. It was now a vibrant pink, with a dulled version of the same color rose up in smoke from the concoction.
"It smells like fresh books?" Dallon spoke with perplexity in his tone, "Is it supposed to smell like that? Where's that potion book..." Dallon spun back and forth while Jamia peeked into the cauldron.
"I think you did it!" She laughed, remembering the description she had committed to memory. "It's still two years until we learn it!" She giggled as the fumes found their way to her nostrils. The mixed scent of home made sweets and residual magic laced around her brain. "This is amazing..."
Dallon scooted back away from the cauldron, shaking his head as if to shake away the affect the potion's fumes. "I can't believe we did that?.. Took a couple trys but..." He cocked his head at the cauldron, "Why did we make that?"
Jamia smiled as she reached into her shoulder bag. She reached in and pulled out a small container. "Some things are better left alone, Dallon." She smiled as she conjured two cups. She opened the container and poured an equal amount of see through liquid in both. "Let's just cheers to this!" She shifted her smile to Dallon, swishing her wand to send a cup towards him.
Dallon took the cup, but his sight stayed transfixed on the potion he had just created. "Something so powerful and we made it in an abandoned girl's bathroom? I just don't remember why-"
"Quite forgetful for a Ravenclaw." Jamia commented, casually, as she pretended to sip from her cup. "Just agree that this is a huge accomplishment," she raised her glass, "To that nerdy brain of yours!"
Dallon had an unsure expression as he raised his cup to lightly clink against hers. They both brought the cups to their lips, but only Dallon drank. Jamia quickly set her cup down and rose to her feet.
"You're too gullible for your own good." She laughed as Dallon began to blink rapidly, "Let's get you out of here so that forgetfulness potion really works it magic once again." She pulled Dallon to his feet as she spoke, not receiving much in response.
For the past few days, Jamia had slipped some of the forgetfulness potion into anything she gave Dallon so that he wouldn't remember what he was assisting her with. She needed the help to move along faster, but she didn't need the witnesses. Today, she had used the largest amount in his drink, just to ensure none of this would commit to memory. She pulled the dazed giraffe of a boy into the hall and spun him in a circle.
"Good luck, and thank you!" She smiled sweetly before pushing him further into the hall. The potion was beginning to take full effect; Dallon's mind was becoming muddled and confused, leaving him lost where he stood. Before he could spin to face her, she shut the door of the girls bathroom and let out a sigh.
"Nasty schemer you are." A soft voice echoed, followed by a soft giggle.
Jamia only smirked. "I try my best, Myrtle."
The ghost of the dead student floated over with the tilt of her head. "Why go through so much trouble?" She asked, "You used to only come in here to cry, and now you're brewing things just like that Potter and his friends."
"I simply need isolation." Jamia shrugged as she conjured up some viles to pour some potion in. "I remembered this place... Much more convenient than that scorched room on the seventh floor; it's big but full of burnt garbage."
The ghostly Ravenclaw shrugged as she floated back to the toilet stalls. Jamia finished bottling the potion and slid them into her bag. She then pulled out her wand and spoke a soft cleaning charm, pointing the wand at the cauldron.
She nodded in approval, standing up and adjusting her shoulder bag with a smile. "I hope this works." She giggled as she turned to leave the restroom. Things were actually falling into place for her, after all this time.
Meanwhile,
Patrick and Pete were walking down a corridor on the third floor. Pete had his broom draped over his shoulder and an everlasting smirk on his face while Patrick simply walked quietly beside him.
Pete wanted to take Patrick on a broom ride around some of the upper towers of the school. Patrick had only ever been on a broom during first year flying lessons. He was excited, but nervous to be going up so high after so long off the broom.
"The view is dope, dude." Pete said as they walked, "I usually fly up here at night, but it's technically our holiday now, so no one will care too much."
"Fly at night? Is that why you always fall asleep in transfiguration?" Patrick asked.
Pete stopped his walking to laugh and turn to Patrick. "Why? Don't you enjoy watching me sleep?" He asked before leaning in to kiss Patrick.
Patrick slid closer to Pete, softly grabbing hold of the Gryffindor's sweater. When they pulled apart, he giggled. "You went from 'dude' to kissing me in under a minute."
Pete shrugged, still holding that smirk on his face. "You don't mind dude, right? I could call you Huffle-Pat, 'Trick, Puff-Trick..."
"Those were all terrible." Patrick said, stifling a giggle.
Pete rolled his eyes. "It's a work in progress, my dude." He reached out with his arm that wasn't supporting his broom and pulled Patrick to his side. Patrick knew his cheeks had to be bright red, but he only smiled.
They rounded a corner to find a rather confused looking Dallon stumbling in circles. Pete and Patrick exchanged looks before Patrick spoke up.
"Dallon? Are you alright?" Patrick questioned.
"A-alright? I don't know..." Dallon muttered, stopping his circles and leaning against a wall. He looked up the ceiling with a slight fear to his perplexed expression. "I think I'm lost?"
"Where were you trying to go?" Patrick asked, stepping away from Pete's draped arm and hurrying over to his friend. Pete looked a bit disgruntled, but followed behind Patrick.
"I don't know?" Dallon's tone was questioning, "I mean... I-I want to lay down..."
"His common room is on the way to where we're going." Pete said before Patrick could spin to ask, "You hold one side and I'll hold the other. He's walking like he's had too much fire whisky."
Patrick nodded, holding onto one of Dallon's arms as he and Pete began to lead the taller boy. It was a strange sight to see, but it kept Dallon on track. It was slow going, but they eventually made it to the Ravenclaw portrait.
The painting looked between the three of them before sighing. "A red house is made out of red bricks, a blue house is made out of blue bricks, and a yellow house is made out of yellow bricks. What is a green house made out of?"
"Green bricks." Pete replied, matter of factly.
The portrait gave him a disapproving look, while Patrick shook his head.
"No..." He muttered, "No... Pete, a green house. Like, for plants! It's made of glass!" Patrick exclaimed, turning to the portrait with hopeful eyes.
The portrait seemed amused as it swung open, revealing the near empty common room. The only person visible in the room was a girl with long, dark hair. She looked up from a book in her lap, eyebrows furrowing immediately when she saw the three boys.
"Dallon?" She sat her thin book on the arm of her chair and stood up. She hurried across the common room as the three boys stepped inside. "Oh my goodness! What happened? Come here, to the chair." She grabbed hold of Dallon's hand and, with Pete and Patrick's help, moved him to where she was sitting. "Has he been hexed or something?!"
"We found him walking circles on the third floor." Pete replied as he looked down at the book she had been reading, "What the hell is a Hawkeye?"
"You pure bloods are honestly missing out on so much fun." She said to him before leaning into Dallon's face a bit. She let out a soft hum, "His eyes seem a bit off..."
"Should we take him to the hospital wing?" Patrick asked.
The girl shook her head, pulling out her wand. "It almost looks like a potion rather than a spell..." She mumbled as Dallon blinked rapidly.
Pete looked at Patrick with the shake of his head. "Who is this girl?" He asked.
"Breezy Douglas, nice to meet you." She smiled sweetly at Pete, holding out her hand for him to shake. He seemed a bit taken back, but shook it.
"Do you know if he'll be alright?" Patrick asked as Breezy turned back to Dallon.
Breezy nodded, "A good night's sleep should do it. Just to make sure he'll fall asleep sooner rather than later..." She held her wand against his temple and whispered a spell, causing his head to drop to his chest almost immediately.
"What the bloody hell did you do!?" Pete exclaimed, jumping back a bit. Patrick snorted at Pete's reaction, quickly covering his mouth with his hand.
Breezy pushed her fingers through Dallon's hair. "Sleep spell. It should help him move past whatever was slipped to him." Breezy said, plainly. She stood upright and pocketed her wand. "Usually potion effects won't last through the night if it was just a small dosing..." She bit her lip, "I should sit with him. If he's not fine, I'll take him to the hospital room tomorrow morning."
"Thank you for looking after him." Patrick smiled as Pete walked over to him.
Breezy smiled, "My pleasure. He was one of my first friends here; he really helped me with settling into the magic world."
"Those friends are good ones to have." Patrick smiled.
Pete looked curiously between the two. "Are you both muggle born?" He asked, "That must explain the hawk guy thing."
"Hawkeye." Breezy and Patrick corrected him at near the exact same time. Pete's eyes widened.
"I have no idea how to comment." He admitted after a moment. Both Patrick and Breezy giggled.
---
Jamia was sat in the Slytherin common room when Frank and Spencer walked in, laughing and shaking snow off their hair. She kicked her feet, nonchalantly, looking over a text book as the boys sat in some chairs near her.
"Hey, Jamia!" Spencer grinned as he shook his fingers through his hair, "How'd you spend the day?"
"Nothing too exciting." She smiled, "You boys seem like you had much more fun."
"We helped Hagrid with the trees in the great hall." Spencer laughed, "Even helped charm decorations on the tree."
"Aw, how sickly sweet." Jamia rolled her eyes, "Your girlfriend talk you into it?"
"I do have my own mind, Jamia." Spencer retorted, "Hagrid gave the offer to both of us over tea the other day and we grabbed Frank to tag along."
"It was more enjoyable than I'll ever admit." Frank laughed as he untied his shoes. He stretched as he sat back up, letting his arms drop to his sides after yawning. "So, you guys are here for Christmas too?"
"Mum's working extra shifts at St. Mungo's and my dad is deployed right now." Spencer said with a sigh, "Not much to really go home to, at the moment. At least I get to spend the holiday with Melanie, though." A smile spread across his face at the thought.
"My parents had prior plans." Jamia said, looking down. "I wasn't planned in to them, so I stayed."
"I honestly don't have a good reason..." Frank scratched the back of his neck, "Just... Hogwarts feels a bit homier right now."
"I get that." Jamia nodded, still looking down.
The air grew quiet around them. It took Spencer clearing his throat to bring life back to the small group. "Wonder if we'll get a tree for the common room."
"We always do." Jamia responded, "Every single year."
"This is the first time I've ever stayed for Christmas." Spencer said as he rubbed his eye, "I usually go home."
"Lucky for you." Jamia muttered at a volume hardly audible. The boys didn't hear it.
"I'm going to bed." Frank yawned, "The train to take everyone home left so early and I stayed up late reading quidditch hilights from my dad."
Spencer nodded, "Yea, I'm tired too... Festivity is draining..."
"Goodnight, boys." Jamia looked up with a soft smile and the cascade of her fingers in a short wave. "Oh, if Brendon is in there, could you send him out? I want to tell him about the results of our joined potions assignment."
"Sure." Frank replied with a shrug.
"Thank you!" She smiled as the boys stood up to leave. She looked down at her book as she waited for Brendon to come out.
"What the fuck is going on with a potions thing?.." Brendon asked as he trudged into the common room, rubbing his eye. His hair was messy and unkept, as if he had just gotten rudely awoken.
"Did I interrupt a sweet dream?" Jamia asked, closing her book. She giggled, pulling out her wand. "Do you remember our arrangement?" She asked with the flick of her wand. The yellowish green haze shot out of the tip of her wand and up to his eyes, once again, sinking in.
"I want payback." Brendon said with a dazed blink.
"And now, you've got your method!" Jamia exclaimed as she stood up. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small vile of the potion. "Take this. At breakfast tomorrow, I want you to pour it over a muffin and give it to the person of your choosing." She swished her wand, popping the cork and allowing the potions fumes to enter the air.
Brendon sniffed the air. "It smells like cannabis." He said as Jamia let the cork float back into place.
"Like what?" Jamia questioned, looking up at him. "Is that some kind of potion ingredient or something?"
Brendon let out a bit of a chuckle. "More of a muggle ingredient..."
Jamia rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Just sit by me tomorrow morning, alright?"
Brendon nodded, blinking away a puff of the yellowish green magic from his eye. "Alright."