This story, and especially the first chapter, is entirely Paula’s fault.  

 

Part One: Home for the Holidays 

 

Home for the holidays, I believe I've missed each and every face.

Come on and play my music, let's turn on the love light in the place.

It’s time I found myself totally surrounded in your circles, my friends.

-- Kenny Loggins 

 

 

A plume of laughter, nearly as tangible as its trail of smoke, followed the progress of the Hogwarts Express across the English countryside. Inside, hundreds of young people were celebrating the beginning of Christmas holidays. From one compartment in particular, the laughs rang especially bright. A glance inside revealed three teenagers, two boys and a girl, laughing helplessly as their fourth companion, a flame-haired girl, held forth with an animated story. The floor was scattered with Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, already a casualty of the mirth, and a forgotten game of Exploding Snap smoldered dangerously on the seat between the girls.  

 

“. . . and then Colin picked up the cauldron – it was this charming shade of chartreuse by now, with purple stripes – Colin picked it up and handed it to Snape. . .” Here she had to pause, the others were laughing too hard to hear her. “He hands it to Snape and with a completely straight face, he said ‘It goes rather nicely with those robes, now, don’t you think, Sir? Very fashion forward.’”  

 

“Fashion forward!” Ron Weasley snorted. “What, is Colin just suicidal?”  

 

“I suppose he thought since he was going to have detention for the rest of the term anyway, he might as well get a few laughs out of the situation,” his sister Ginny responded. “Watch out, Hermione,” she said, reaching out to sweep her friend’s hair away from the smoking cards. Hermione straightened, wiping tears from her eyes and still gasping with laughter.  

 

“I’d say he succeeded. My ribs hurt,” she said. “I can’t remember when I’ve laughed so hard.” 

 

“I know when I have,” Harry Potter spoke up. “It was the time Ron used my Invisibility Cloak to get into . . .” 

 

“Oh, my, where are we by now? We must be getting close to King’s Cross,” Hermione said hurriedly, blushing a pretty shade of pink. Harry winked at Ginny and nudged Ron with an elbow. Ron nudged back with snigger.  

 

“I’m so glad we’re going to be at the Burrow for Christmas,” Ginny said.  

 

“Yeah. I guess it’s a good thing Dumbledore wanted to close Hogwarts down over the holiday. What do you think that’s about, anyway?” Ron addressed his question to Harry, who was the most likely among them to know.  

 

“Renovations, like he said,” Harry replied, but was quickly met with sounds of derision from the other three. “Actually, in a way, that’s true,” he said, with a quick glance toward the compartment door to be sure no one was in the corridor. “He wanted to put up some new protection wards. The spells are very complex, and students walking around could destroy the charms before they’re set.” 

 

“More wards?” Hermione’s voice was faint. “But Hogwarts is the most protected place on earth already. In Hogwarts: A History, it says . . .” 

 

“Just a precaution,” Harry assured her quickly. “Mostly extending the boundaries and providing for a better warning system.” 

 

“So that’s why Sirius wanted the Map,” Ron said. “I thought he just couldn’t remember how to get in to see you.”  

 

“He’s only 40; he’s not senile yet,” Harry laughed.  

 

“Were you asked to stay and help?” Ginny asked.  

 

“I offered, but Dumbledore said it wasn’t necessary. He told me to go on and enjoy the holidays.” Harry didn’t relate the rest of his conversation with the Headmaster, which had been serious indeed. With a small shudder, he pushed it out of his mind. He was going to the Burrow, to be with his best friend’s family, and he was going to have a wonderful time. While he still could. Looking up, he met Ginny’s steady gaze and forced himself to grin. The smile he got in return did much to lighten his heart – and his head.  

 

“Hey, good, you didn’t spill them all,” Ron said, pulling a squashed box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans from between the cushions of his seat.  

 

“I didn’t spill any of them. You did,” Harry said smugly. “Give some over.”  

 

“Me, too,” Ginny said, reaching out a hand. “Don’t be greedy.” 

 

“Ugh. I do not see how you can eat those things,” Hermione said with a small shiver. “I always get the most revolting flavors.”  

 

“It’s a well-known fact that the flavor of Bertie Bott’s Beans depends greatly on the disposition of the wizard doing the eating,” Ron said pompously, winking at Harry. “If you’re afraid you’re going to get something atrocious, the probability is 90 percent greater that you will. It’s true!” he said, looking down his nose at Hermione’s disbelieving statement. “I read it in Honeydukes: A History.” 

 

“Honey . . . Ron! You’re making that up!” Hermione laughed, swatting at him.  

 

“Oh, yeah, like everything you ever said came out of Hogwarts: A History is really in there.”  

 

“It is!” Hermione protested.  

 

“All of it? You never exaggerated even a tiny bit just to look smart?” 

 

Hermione said something that was lost in a cough.  

 

“I heard that! I knew it!” Ron crowed. “Just for that, you have to eat . . . um . . . this one!” He triumphantly held up a mottled white jelly bean. Hermione eyed it dubiously.  

 

“Go on, Hermione. It might be harmless,” Harry said, chuckling. “White could be coconut, or cream puff, maybe.” 

 

“Or paper, or bathwater, or shaving cream,” Ron added with an evil grin.  

 

“Or milk, or vanilla ice cream,” Ginny offered helpfully, throwing a purple bean at her brother.  

 

Ron ducked the missile and continued, “or sweaty socks, or used handkerchiefs.” He held out the bean and Hermione took it from his palm. “Go on, Hermione.” 

 

She held it up between her fingers, considering. Then a sly smile began to spread over her face. She tilted her head, looked up through her lashes directly into Ron’s eyes and licked her lips slowly. Ron’s grin began to falter and his ears to glow red. “You know,” she said softly, “it could be . . . well, it could be almost anything now, couldn’t it?”  

 

“Hermione!” shrieked Ginny, as Harry howled with laughter and Ron sputtered helplessly. Laughing, Hermione popped the disputed bean into her mouth, then made a face.  

 

“Ick. Paste.”  

 

“Paste! I love those,” Ginny said, just as Harry exclaimed, “Oh, those are good ones.” They looked each other in amazement.  

 

“A fellow paste-eater?” Harry asked, one eyebrow raised.  

 

“Not since first year, of course, but the paste-flavored ones do bring back fond memories,” Ginny giggled. “You?” 

 

“Well, the Dursleys didn’t feed me much,” Harry grinned.  

 

Just then they all felt the train begin to slow. “Oh, good, we’re at the station,” Ron said, trying to hide his still-flaming face by gathering up their belongings.  

 

“Who’s meeting us?” Hermione asked, whirling the last of the errant jelly beans into a tiny tornado with her wand, then banishing it with a flick of her wrist.  

 

“Percy,” Ginny said, sweeping the ashes of the playing cards off the seat. “I think Mum wanted an excuse to get him out of the house. He’s driving even her nuts, now that . . .” she bit her lip, but finished her thought with obvious effort. “Now that he’s the only one home.” 

 

“Never thought she’d turn on her favorite, huh?” Ron said, casting a rather frantic glance at Harry, who caught the hint and tried to change the subject.  

 

“Maybe we can keep him out of her hair a little longer. Anyone for a spot of Christmas shopping at Diagon Alley before we go home?” 

 

“No.” Ginny’s voice was quiet, but definite and a little desperate. The levity of the trip was gone. “I want to see my family. Right now. The ones I can see, at least.”  

 

“Ginny . . .” Hermione began, but Ginny was already out the compartment door. Hermione looked helplessly at Harry, who stepped up beside his red-headed friend.  

 

“Ron, I promise you, they’re fine. Really,” he said, his hand on Ron’s arm. “I told Ginny the same thing.”  

 

“And we believe you,” Ron said shortly. “We just miss them, all right? I miss them. Especially Bill and Charlie, for some reason. It’s not like I saw them very often, but somehow knowing I can’t if I want to makes twice as bad.” He met Harry’s sympathetic eyes with a faint grin. “I’m pretending Fred and George are in jail for some prank or another. I’d rather think about that than what they’re actually doing.”  

 

“They’ll be pleased with your ingenuity,” Harry said quietly.  

 

“Yeah, well tell them when you get the chance,” Ron snapped, then followed his sister out the compartment door. Harry sighed and turned to face Hermione who, he was not surprised to see, had tears in her eyes.  

 

“Don’t you start,” he said, holding out his arms and gathering her in.  

 

“I can’t help it. It’s so awful. They’re right.” She sniffled a little against his shoulder.  

 

“Of course they are. But Dumbledore told us to go home and enjoy the holiday, remember?”  

 

“Maybe we’re trying too hard.” 

 

“Maybe. Maybe that’s what we have to do.” Harry chucked her under the chin and she looked up at him. “We’re going to have a good holiday. And so are they.” 

 

She nodded, and drew a deep breath. “Okay, I’m together. Thanks, Harry. Let’s go, before Percy gets his knickers in a knot.” 

 

Harry chuckled. “You know, Ron’s been an absolutely rotten influence on you.” He grabbed the last remaining bag and followed her into the corridor.

 

Part Two