They all went back up stairs and got dressed; they could hear various inhabitants of the house calling ‘Happy Christmas’ to each other. On their way back downstairs they met Hermione who was chatting with Canini. ‘Happy Christmas you guys!’ she said cheerfully, her braces shining as she talked. ‘Your families have decorated this house quite beautifully!’

‘Thanks,’ said Ron. ‘Who’s that for anyway?’ he added, nodding at the patchwork of folded up fabric she was carrying.

‘As a member of S.P.E.W., Canini told me about the house-elf that lives here named Kreacher, this is for him,’ said Hermione brightly.

‘I hope Canini also explained how we can’t give him clothing as it is a safety risk,’ said Theodore staring directly at his and Harry’s younger sister.

‘Don’t look at me like that,’ Canini protested, ‘I explained to her why we can’t give him clothes.’

‘Yes, it isn’t clothes,’ said Hermione, ‘although if I had my way I’d certainly set him free, no one should be a slave to another. No, it’s a patchwork quilt, I thought it would brighten up his bedroom.’

‘What bedroom?’ said Harry, dropping his voice to a whisper as they were passing the portrait of Sirius’s mother.

‘Well, Mr Black says it’s not so much a bedroom, more a kind of—den,’ said Hermione. ‘Apparently he sleeps under the boiler in that cupboard off the kitchen.’

Mrs Weasley and Remus were the only people in the basement when they arrived there. Mrs Weasley was standing at the stove and sounded as though she had a bad head cold when she wished them Happy Christmas, and they all averted their eyes.

‘This is where Kreacher sleeps then?’ said Theodore, strolling over to a dingy door in the corner opposite the pantry which Harry had never seen open.

‘Yes,’ said Hermione, now sounding a little nervous. ‘Er...I think we’d better knock...’

Ron rapped the door with his knuckles but there was no reply.

‘He must be sneaking around upstairs,’ he said, and without further ado pulled open the door. ‘Urgh.‘

Harry peered inside. Most of the cupboard was taken up with a very large and old-fashioned boiler, but in the foot’s space underneath the pipes Kreacher had made himself something that looked like a nest. A jumble of assorted rags and smelly old blankets were piled on the floor and the small dent in the middle of it showed where Kreacher curled up to sleep every night. Here and there among the material were stale bread crusts and moldy old bits of cheese. In a far corner glinted small objects and coins that Harry guessed Kreacher had saved, magpielike, from Sirius’s purge of the house, and he had also managed to retrieve the silver-framed family photographs that Sirius had thrown away over the summer. Their glass might be shattered, but still the little black-and-white people inside them peered haughtily up at him, including—he felt a little jolt in his stomach—the dark, heavy-lidded woman whose trial he had witnessed in Dumbledore’s Pensieve, and his aunt Andromeda’s older sister: Bellatrix Lestrange. By the looks of it, hers was Kreacher’s favorite photograph; he had placed it to the fore of all the others and had mended the glass clumsily with Spellotape. Canini and Theodore were staring at the photograph, but Ron and Hermione seemingly took no notice.

‘I think I’ll just leave his present here,’ said Hermione, laying the package neatly in the middle of the depression in the rags and blankets and closing the door quietly. ‘He’ll find it later, that’ll be fine...’

‘Come to think of it,’ said Sirius, emerging from the pantry carrying a large turkey as they closed the cupboard door, ‘has anyone actually seen Kreacher lately?’

‘I haven’t seen him since the night we came back here,’ said Harry. ‘You were ordering him out of the kitchen.’

‘Yeah...’ said Sirius, frowning. ‘You know, I think that’s the last time I saw him, too...He must be hiding upstairs somewhere...’

‘He couldn’t have left, could he?’ said Harry. ‘I mean, when you said ‘out,’ maybe he thought you meant, get out of the house?’

‘No, no, house-elves can’t leave unless they’re given clothes, they’re tied to their family’s house,’ said Sirius.

‘They can leave the house if they really want to,’ Harry contradicted him. ‘Dobby did, remember he left the Malfoys’ to give me warnings two years ago. He had to punish himself afterward, but he still managed it.’

Sirius looked slightly disconcerted for a moment, then said, ‘I’ll look for him later, I expect I’ll find him upstairs crying his eyes out over my mother’s old bloomers or something...Of course, he might have crawled into the airing cupboard and died...But I mustn’t get my hopes up...’

Theodore, and Ron laughed; Canini and Hermione, however, looked reproachful.

After their conversation with Sirius, Hermione went to go hang out with Ginny, while Ron went to the twins to compare presents, but Canini and Theodore stayed behind with Harry, both of their expressions were quite serious.

'Why does Kreacher keep a portrait of aunt Andromeda among his collection of the worst members of the Black family?' asked Canini.

Harry guessed that they were just as in the dark about Andromeda's sister has he was a year prior, so not wishing to overstep Sirius or Neville's wishes, he treaded lightly while giving an explanation.

'That's not Andromeda, its her older sister, and her and Sirius don't like talking about her.'

They both looked like they had further questions, but Harry walked away before they could ask, ending the conversation.

Once they had had their Christmas lunch, the Weasleys and Harry and his family were planning to pay Mr Weasley another visit, escorted by Mad-Eye and Emmeline Vance. Mundungus turned up in time for Christmas pudding and trifle, having managed to “borrow” a car for the occasion, as the Underground did not run on Christmas Day. The car, which Harry doubted very much had been taken with the knowledge or consent of its owner, had had a similar Enlarging Spell put upon it as the Weasleys’ old Ford Anglia; although normally proportioned outside, eleven people plus Mundungus driving were able to fit into it quite comfortably. Mrs Weasley hesitated at the point of get- ting inside; Harry knew that her disapproval of Mundungus was battling with her dislike of traveling without magic; finally the cold outside and her children’s pleading triumphed, and she settled herself into the backseat between Fred and Bill with good grace.

The journey to St. Mungo’s was quite quick, as there was very little traffic on the roads. A small trickle of witches and wizards were creeping furtively up the otherwise deserted street to visit the hospital. Harry and the others got out of the car, and Mundungus drove off around the corner to wait for them; they strolled casually toward the window where the dummy in green nylon stood, then, one by one, stepped through the glass.

The reception area looked pleasantly festive: The crystal orbs that illuminated St. Mungo’s had been turned to red and gold so that they became gigantic, glowing Christmas baubles; holly hung around every doorway, and shining white Christmas trees covered in magical snow and icicles glittered in every corner, each topped with a gleaming gold star. It was less crowded than the last time they had been there, although halfway across the room Harry found himself shunted aside by a witch with a walnut jammed up her left nostril.

‘Family argument, eh?’ smirked the blonde witch behind the desk. ‘You’re the third I’ve seen today...Spell Damage, fourth floor...’

They found Mr Weasley propped up in bed with the remains of his

turkey dinner on a tray in his lap and a rather sheepish expression on his face.

‘Everything all right, Arthur?’ asked Mrs Weasley, after they had all greeted Mr Weasley and handed over their presents.

‘Fine, fine,’ said Mr Weasley, a little too heartily. ‘You—er—haven’t seen Healer Smethwyck, have you?’

‘No,’ said Mrs Weasley suspiciously, ‘why?’

‘Nothing, nothing,’ said Mr Weasley airily, starting to unwrap his pile of gifts. ‘Well, everyone had a good day? What did you all get for Christmas? Oh, Harry—this is absolutely wonderful—”

For he had just opened Harry’s gift of fuse-wire and screwdrivers. Mrs Weasley did not seem entirely satisfied with Mr Weasley’s answer. As her husband leaned over to shake Harry’s hand, she peered at the bandaging under his nightshirt.

‘Arthur,’ she said, with a snap in her voice like a mousetrap, ‘you’ve had your bandages changed. Why have you had your bandages changed a day early, Arthur? They told me they wouldn’t need doing until tomorrow.’

‘What?’ said Mr Weasley, looking rather frightened and pulling the bed covers higher up his chest. ‘No, no—it’s nothing—it’s—I—‘

He seemed to deflate under Mrs Weasley’s piercing gaze.

‘Well—now don’t get upset, Molly, but Augustus Pye had an idea...He’s the Trainee Healer, you know, lovely young chap and very interested in...um . . . complementary medicine...I mean, some of these old Muggle remedies...well, they’re called stitches, Molly, and they work very well on—on Muggle wounds—‘

Mrs Weasley let out an ominous noise somewhere between a shriek and a snarl. Canini strolled away from the bed and over to the werewolf, who had no visitors and was looking rather wistfully at the crowd around Mr Weasley; Bill muttered something about getting himself a cup of tea and Fred and George leapt up to accompany him, grinning.

‘Do you mean to tell me,’ said Mrs Weasley, her voice growing louder with every word and apparently unaware that her fellow visitors were scurrying for cover, ‘that you have been messing about with Muggle remedies?’

'Not messing about, Molly, dear,' said Mr Weasley imploringly. 'It was just—just something Pye and I thought we’d try—only, most unfortunately—well, with these particular kinds of wounds—it doesn’t seem to work as well as we’d hoped—'

'Meaning?'

Ron, and Ginny then got up and quickly mumbled that they both had to use the bathroom.

'Well...well, I don’t know whether you know what—what stitches are?'

'It sounds as though you’ve been trying to sew your skin back together,' said Mrs Weasley with a snort of mirthless laughter, 'but even you, Arthur, wouldn’t be that stupid—'

'I fancy a cup of tea too,' said Harry, jumping to his feet.

Theodore almost sprinted to the door with him, as they reached the exit Canini joined them. When it swung closed behind them, they heard Mrs Weasley shriek, 'WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THAT’S THE GENERAL IDEA?'

'That wasn't that smart of Mr Weasley or Mr Pye,' said Theodore, shaking his head as they set off up the corridor. 'We already know the snake's venom has some form of dark magic, so there was no way muggle thread could resist it.'

'Well, I'm just glad it didn't do Mr Weasley any serious additional harm,' said Canini with a sigh. 'Anyway, we should probably actually get some tea instead of just standing here, anyone know what level the tea room is on?'

'Fifth floor,' said Harry, remembering the sign over the Welcome Witch’s desk.

They walked along the corridor through a set of double doors and found a rickety staircase lined with more portraits of brutal-looking Healers. As they climbed it, the various Healers called out to them, diagnosing odd complaints and suggesting horrible remedies. Theodore was seriously affronted when a medieval wizard called out that he clearly had a bad case of spattergroit.

‘And why do you think I have that skin condition?’ he asked angrily, as the Healer pursued him through six more portraits, shoving the occupants out of the way.

‘I can see it just from looking at you, young master, it will leave you pockmarked and more gruesome even than you are now—‘

‘Right, but you still haven’t told me why you think I have spattergroit!’ said Theodore, his cheeks getting a little flushed.

‘The only remedy is to take the liver of a toad, bind it tight about your throat, stand naked by the full moon in a barrel of eels’ eyes—‘

‘This is balderdash, I don’t have spattergroit!’

‘But the unsightly blemishes upon your visage, young master—‘

‘It’s called acne! And I don’t even have that much!’ said Theodore, now as red as a Weasley’s hair. ‘Leave me alone you blind buffoon and go back to your actual portrait!’

He rounded on the others, who were all keeping determinedly straight faces.

‘My face isn’t that bad is it?’ he asked, now quite embarrassed, ‘Since we’re on break and not at school I haven’t been using my Tolipan Blemish Blitzer, but I didn’t think I was breaking out or anything.’

‘You look fine Theo,’ said Harry, it was the truth, but just to be safe he changed the topic. ‘What floor are we on?’

‘I believe we’re at the fifth,’ said Canini.

‘Nah, it’s the fourth,’ said Harry, ‘one more—‘

But as he stepped onto the landing he came to an abrupt halt, staring at the small window set into the double doors that marked the start of a corridor signposted spell damage. A man was peering out at them all with his nose pressed against the glass. He had wavy blond hair, bright blue eyes, and a broad vacant smile that revealed dazzlingly white teeth.

‘Goodness’ said Canini, also staring at the man.

‘Oh no,’ said Theodore suddenly, sounding even more self conscious.

‘Professor Lockhart?!’ said Harry in shock.

His and Theodore’s ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher pushed open the doors and moved toward them, wearing a long lilac dressing gown.

‘Well, hello there!’ he said. ‘I expect you’d like my autograph, would you?’

‘I see that he’s the exact same as he was three years ago,’ Harry muttered to Canini, who grinned.

‘Um—Professor, head-er-how are you?’ Theodore managed to get out, sounding slightly guilty. While it was Tracey’s memory charm that had done the most damage, Theodore had also accidentally made a lot of stone debris fall on Professor Lockhart head that had helped damage his memory so badly that he had landed here in the first place, though, as Lockhart had been attempting to attack Harry and his friends at the time, Harry’s sympathy was limited.

‘I’m very well indeed, thank you!’ said Lockhart exuberantly, pulling a rather battered peacock-feather quill from his pocket. ‘Now, how many autographs would you like? I can do joined-up writing now, you know!’

‘Well—we don’t actually want any autographs at the moment, sir,’ said Canini hesitantly while glancing at Harry who took it from there.

‘Professor, should you be wandering around the corridors? Shouldn’t you be in a ward?’

The smile faded slowly from Lockhart’s face. For a few moments he gazed intently at Harry, then he said, ‘Haven’t we met?’

‘Er...yeah, we have,’ said Harry. ‘You used to teach me and Theodore here at Hogwarts, remember?’

‘Teach?’ repeated Lockhart, looking faintly unsettled. ‘Me? Did I?’

And then the smile reappeared upon his face so suddenly it was rather alarming. ‘Taught you everything you know, I expect, did I? Well, how about those autographs, then? Shall we say a round dozen, you can give them to all your little friends then and nobody will be left out!’

But just then a head poked out of a door at the far end of the corridor and a voice said, ‘Gilderoy, you naughty boy, where have you wandered off to?’

A motherly looking Healer wearing a tinsel wreath in her hair came bustling up the corridor, smiling warmly at Harry and the others.

‘Oh Gilderoy, you’ve got visitors! How lovely, and on Christmas Day too! Do you know, he never gets visitors, poor lamb, and I can’t think why, he’s such a sweetie, aren’t you?’

‘We’re doing autographs!’ Gilderoy told the Healer with another glittering smile. ‘They want loads of them, won’t take no for an answer! I just hope we’ve got enough photographs!’

‘Listen to him,’ said the Healer, taking Lockhart’s arm and beaming fondly at him as though he were a precocious two-year-old. ‘He was rather well known a few years ago; we very much hope that this liking for giving autographs is a sign that his memory might be coming back a little bit. Will you step this way? He’s in a closed ward, you know, he must have slipped out while I was bringing in the Christmas presents, the door’s usually kept locked...not that he’s dangerous! But,’ she lowered her voice to a whisper, ‘bit of a danger to himself, bless him...Doesn’t know who he is, you see, wanders off and can’t remember how to get back...It is nice of you to have come to see him—‘

‘Oh,’ said Canini, gesturing uselessly at the floor above, ‘you see, we were heading—er—‘

But the Healer was smiling expectantly at them, and Canini’s feeble mutter of ‘to the floor above’ trailed away into nothingness. They looked at one another rather hopelessly and then followed Lockhart and his Healer along the corridor.

‘We probably shouldn’t stay in this wing to long,’ Theodore said quietly.

The Healer pointed her wand at the door of the Janus Thickey ward and muttered ‘Alohomora.’ The door swung open and she led the way inside, keeping a firm grasp on Gilderoy’s arm until she had settled him into an armchair beside his bed.

‘This is our long-term resident ward,’ she informed Harry, Theodore, and Canini in a low voice. ‘For permanent spell damage, you know. Of course, with intensive remedial potions and charms and a bit of luck, we can produce some improvement...Gilderoy does seem to be getting back some sense of himself, and we’ve seen a real improvement in Mr Bode, he seems to be regaining the power of speech very well, though he isn’t speaking any language we recognize yet...Well, I must finish giving out the Christmas presents, I’ll leave you all to chat...’

Harry looked around; this ward bore unmistakable signs of being a permanent home to its residents. They had many more personal effects around their beds than in Mr Weasley’s ward; the wall around Gilderoy’s headboard, for instance, was papered with pictures of himself, all beaming toothily and waving at the new arrivals. He had autographed many of them to himself in disjointed, childish writing. The moment he had been deposited in his chair by the Healer, Gilderoy pulled a fresh stack of photographs toward him, seized a quill, and started signing them all feverishly.

‘You can put them in envelopes,’ he said to Theodore, throwing the signed pictures into his lap one by one as he finished them. ‘I am not forgotten, you know, no, I still receive a very great deal of fan mail...Gladys Gudgeon writes weekly...I just wish I knew why...’

He paused, looking faintly puzzled, then beamed again and returned to his signing with renewed vigor. ‘I suspect it is simply my good looks...’

A sallow-skinned, mournful-looking wizard lay in the bed opposite, staring at the ceiling; he was mumbling to himself and seemed quite unaware of anything around him. Two beds along was a woman whose entire head was covered in fur; Harry remembered something similar happening to Tracey during their second year, although fortunately the damage, in her case, had not been permanent. At the far end of the ward flowery curtains had been drawn around two beds to give the occupants and their visitors some privacy.

‘Here you are, Agnes,’ said the Healer brightly to the furry-faced woman, handing her a small pile of Christmas presents. ‘See, not forgotten, are you? And your son’s sent an owl to say he’s visiting tonight, so that’s nice, isn’t it?’

Agnes gave several loud barks.

‘And look, Broderick, you’ve been sent a potted plant and a lovely calendar with a different fancy hippogriff for each month, they’ll brighten things up, won’t they?’ said the Healer, bustling along to the mumbling man, setting a rather ugly plant with long, swaying tentacles on the bedside cabinet and fixing the calendar to the wall with her wand. ‘And—oh, Mrs Longbottom, are you leaving already?’

Harry’s head spun round. The curtains had been drawn back from the two beds at the end of the ward and two visitors were walking back down the aisle between the beds: a familiar formidable-looking old witch wearing a long green dress, a moth-eaten fox fur, and a pointed hat decorated with what was unmistakably a stuffed vulture and, trailing behind her looking thoroughly depressed—Neville.

With a sudden rush of understanding, Harry realized who the people in the end beds must be. He cast around wildly for some means of distracting the others so that Neville could leave the ward unnoticed and unquestioned, but the other two had looked up at the sound of the name “Longbottom” too, and before Harry could stop them Canini had called, ‘Neville!’

Neville jumped and cowered as though a bullet had narrowly missed him.

‘Sorry, it’s just us, Neville!’ said Theodore brightly, getting to his feet. ‘Didn’t know you’d be here? Who are you visiting?’

Harry had the sudden urge to put his hand over Theodore’s mouth and drag him away. While Canini might Nott have known the full story, she at least had been to the Longbottom house and knew Neville’s parents were at St. Mungo’s. Theodore, however, knew nothing.

‘Friends of yours, Neville, dear?’ said Neville’s grandmother Augusta graciously, bearing down upon them all for a better look.

Neville looked as though he would rather be anywhere in the world but here. A dull purple flush was creeping up his plump face and he was not making eye contact with any of them.

‘Ah, yes,’ said his grandmother, looking closely at Harry and sticking out a shriveled, clawlike hand for him to shake. ‘Yes, yes, it’s good to see you again Harry, haven’t seen you or your family in a couple years, but Neville still speaks highly of you.’

‘Er—thanks,’ said Harry, shaking hands. Neville did not look at him, but stared at his own feet, the colour deepening in his face all the while.

‘And Miss Howling,’ Mrs Longbottom continued, proffering her hand regally to Canini in turn. ‘Yes, what a beautiful young lady you have grown to be. I still remember how when you were small you used to find and wear my pearls whenever you and your family visited. I truthfully suspected you might be a witch and not a wizard, and I was quite happy when I learned I was right.’

It was Canini’s turn to go a little red, as she often did when people discussed the time she was still figuring out who she was.

Finally Mrs Longbottom turned to Theodore and again held out her hand, ‘I don’t think we’ve formally met. I’m Neville’s gran. You must be Mr Black and Mr Lupin’s ward, Leo? Leonard was it?’

‘Theodore, Madam,’ he said while shaking her hand. ‘Theodore Nott.’

‘Well, I think I heard Neville mention you once or twice over the years. Good things I believe. And I think he’s said something about you helping him this year in defence class. He’s a good boy,’ she said, casting a sternly appraising look down her rather bony nose at Neville, ‘but he hasn’t got his father’s talent, I’m afraid to say...’

And she jerked her head in the direction of the two beds at the end of the ward, so that the stuffed vulture on her hat trembled alarmingly.

‘What?’ said Theodore, looking amazed (Harry wanted to stamp on Theodore’s foot, but that sort of thing was much harder to bring off unnoticed when you were wearing jeans rather than robes). ‘Is your dad staying here, Neville?’

‘What’s this?’ said Mrs Longbottom sharply. ‘How come he does not know? Haven’t you told your friends about your parents, Neville?’

Neville took a deep breath, looked up at the ceiling, and shook his head. Harry could not remember ever feeling sorrier for anyone, but he could not think of any way of helping Neville out of the situation.

‘Well, it’s nothing to be ashamed of!’ said Mrs Longbottom angrily. ‘You should be proud, Neville, proud! They didn’t give their health and their sanity so their only son would be ashamed of them, you know!’

‘I’m not ashamed,’ said Neville very faintly, still looking anywhere but at Harry and the others.

Theodore was now trying to fight his curiosity to look at the inhabitants of the two beds.

‘Well, you’ve got a funny way of showing it!’ said Mrs Longbottom. ‘My son and his wife,’ she said, turning haughtily to Harry, Canini, and Theodore, ‘were tortured into insanity by You- Know-Who’s followers.’

Canini clapped her hands over her mouth. Theodore stopped trying to catch a glimpse of Neville’s parents and looked as though he had seen a ghost.

‘They were Aurors, you know, and very well respected within the Wizarding community,’ Mrs Longbottom went on. ‘Highly gifted, the pair of them. I—yes, Alice dear, what is it?’

Neville’s mother had come edging down the ward in her nightdress. She no longer had the plump, happy-looking face Harry had seen in old photographs at the Longbottom’s or in Moody’s picture of the original Order of the Phoenix. Her face was thin and worn now, her eyes seemed overlarge, and her hair, which had turned white, was wispy and dead-looking. She did not seem to want to speak, or perhaps she was not able to, but she made timid motions toward Neville, holding something in her outstretched hand.

‘Again?’ said Mrs Longbottom, sounding slightly weary. ‘Very well, Alice dear, very well—Neville, take it, whatever it is...’

But Neville had already stretched out his hand, into which his mother dropped an empty Droobles Blowing Gum wrapper.

‘Very nice, dear,’ said Neville’s grandmother in a falsely cheery voice, patting his mother on the shoulder. But Neville said quietly, ‘Thanks Mum.’

His mother tottered away, back up the ward, humming to herself. Neville looked around at the others, his expression defiant, as though daring them to laugh, but Harry did not think he’d ever found anything less funny in his life.

‘Well, we’d better get back,’ sighed Mrs Longbottom, drawing on long green gloves. ‘Very nice to have seen you all again, and to meet you Theodore dear. Neville, put that wrapper in the bin, she must have given you enough of them to paper your bedroom by now...’

But as they left, Harry was sure he saw Neville slip the wrapper into his pocket.

The door closed behind them.

‘I had no idea,’ said Theodore, who looked quite ashamed.

‘I’ve known Neville for ten years and I didn’t know that was the reason he lived with his grandmother,’ said Canini in shock.

The two of them looked at Harry.

‘I did,’ he said glumly. ‘Dumbledore told me but I promised I wouldn’t mention it...that’s what Bellatrix Lestrange got sent to Azkaban for, using the Cruciatus Curse on Neville’s parents until they lost their minds.’

‘The women in the portrait at Kreacher’s den? That Bellatrix Lestrange?’ whispered Theodore, horrified.

‘Andromeda’s own big sister and Sirius’ cousin?’ said Canini in disbelief.

There was a long silence, broken by Lockhart’s angry voice. ‘Look, I didn’t learn joined-up writing for nothing, you know!’

‘We should go,’ said Harry with a sigh, and not having the strength to protest the others followed as they left the ward. Not feeling in the mood for tea anymore, they decided to just head back to Mr Weasley.

As soon as they entered the stairs however, it was clear they weren’t alone, as the sound of a woman crying on the landing below echoed throughout the stair well. Not entirely sure what to do, the three siblings decided to try sneaking past whoever was crying, but once they reached the third floor landing Harry knew that was going to be impossible.

‘Allison?’ Harry said, dumbfounded.

She was in dark blood-red robes, her spiky short bob was a mess and greasy, she wasn’t wearing her pink headband, and there were deep dark circles under her eyes, but it was definitely Allison.

‘Ha-Harry?’ She said surprised, turning around to get a better look.

‘Goodness Allison, are you ok?’ asked Theodore, going up to get a better look at her.

She tried wiping away her tears, as though that would somehow change how she looked. ‘Oh, I’m fine I guess, I just got a little overwhelmed in there—‘

Before she could continue Harry somehow managed to use enough brain power to put their current location and Allison’s presence together in his head and how it could only mean one thing and blurted out, ‘Is your mother alright?’

Any attempt at recomposing herself crumbled and she started bawling her eyes out. Harry had known Allison for over four years now, and in that time even when happy she often had a stoic demeanour and very rarely expressed her emotions. He wasn't sure what to do, he wanted to hug her, to comfort her, but he was still in such a shock from this out burst of emotion that he just stood there. Theodore eventually did what he could not and held her in his arms as she slowly calmed down, at which point Canini stepped forward.

'Is your mother going to be alright?'

'I-I don't know, she took a turn for the worst a couple weeks ago and has been here ever since,' she said, her speech slowly going back to normal. 'The healers are trying everything, but have told me if they can't find something she likely will never leave the hospital again.'

'Two weeks!' said Harry, 'Why didn't you say anything? We would have understood and been there for you.'

'Because I didn't know, Harry!' her temper rising slightly. 'I had no idea she was here and had gotten worse, all I did know was that she had stopped writing me letters. I only found out when I got home from break and my dad told me. He muttered something about not telling me sooner as he didn't want to effect my studies, but honestly I think he was in some form of denial. Once I did find out I couldn't tell you guys as Dumbledore had implied to me, Tracey, and Terence that you both wouldn't be able to receive owls while on break.'

'Is Tracey here with you right now?' asked Theodore.

'No, she flooed here from Cork to be with me yesterday, but went back last night as she didn't want to be rude to Mr and Mrs Higgs who had invited her for Christmas,' Allison let out a shakey breath. 'My dad isn't here either, he's worked most days since I returned and only drops me of and picks me up on his way to and from work. I almost wish he was here though, I barely have the courage to see my mom the way she is all by myself. You guys must think I am so silly.'

'You aren't silly,' Theodore said, suddenly dead serious. 'When I was eight and my mother got sick, I was terrified to see her as I didn't want to think of her as anything other than the happy woman I had known, but the one good thing my father ever did was convince me to be with her, and I am glad I did because I got to have a few more moments with her I would never get the chance to have again. I did it, but it was still terrifying.'

After hearing this, Harry held out his hand to Allison, 'What if we came with you. We don't have to get back down stairs for a little bit longer.'

A small smile crept onto her face as she took his hand.

'Thank you,' she whispered.

Together the four of them entered the Poisoning Department, before they could reach any of the beds, Canini had a question.

'How come she is getting treated here and not the Magical Bugs ward?'

'Well, in the year and half she has been sick now, neither me, my dad, or any of the healers who have come to see her have ever gotten sick, so whatever she has it is not contagious, which has made the healers believe she came in contact with something toxic that is slowly poisoning her, but until they can figure out if it was from a magical creature, or a contaminated consumable, or something else they can't transfer her to a more specific ward.'

Soon a healer greeted them, 'Ah, Miss Runcorn, you are back. And you have brought some friends. Well your mother is awake right now, so it should be a good time for a visit.'

Allison lead them forward until they were at the bedside of a woman Harry hardly recognized. In the only few months since Harry had first met Mrs Runcorn her hair roots have gone grey, she almost looked like she had aged a decade or two, and her skin was somehow even more pale then it had been and now had almost a faint green tone to it. She also looked weaker, while at the beginning of term she had had the strength to sit by the fire to talk to her daughter, now she looked at though it took all her strength just to sit up somewhat in her bed.

'My beautiful Heather, you came back again today,' said Balance Runcorn in a voice eerily similar to her daughter's, 'And you brought friends, are one of these two handsome boys your boyfriend?'

Allison went pink, 'What? No! Mom, you know I don't have a boyfriend. No, these are my friends Harry Potter, Theodore Nott, and their younger sister Canini Howling.'

'Ah, at long last I get to meet the famous Mr Potter and Mr Nott, my Heather's closest friends.'

'Its a pleasure to meet you,' Harry said, she clearly did not remember their brief Floo meeting, so he didn't bring it up.

'I am glad to meet Allison's family,' said Theodore, putting emphasis on saying her name.

Mrs Runcorn looked quite confused for a moment, then recollection hit her.

'Oh! I had forgotten that was the name Bertie talked me into, sorry Allison, love.'

'Its ok mom, Heather is a great name too.'

They stayed and chatted for a while, all sitting around her bed. Mrs Runcorn was a nice enough woman, but Harry did see why in their first year Allison didn't have the closest relationship to her mother, she wasn't nurturing like Mrs Weasley or Andromeda were. Still, even as weak as she was, Harry could see where Allison got her creativity and strategic mind from, as well as her passion. Soon though Theodore and Canini's body language let him know that they wanted to get back to the Weasleys, who probably were wondering were they had all went.

'It has been great chatting with you Mrs Runcorn, but we should probably rejoin our group,' said Theodore, while standing up. 'They don't know where we are, you see.'

'Oh, well it was nice meeting you all, and I was happy to have the additional company. Allison dear, why don't you see your friends out.'

'I will mom,' she said as she and Canini also got to their feet.

Harry was about to stand too, when Mrs Runcorn took his hand. 'I quick word dear? Run along dears, I'll only have Mr Potter for a second.'

Not really seeing a choice, Allison, Theodore, and Canini started heading for the stairs, while Harry sat back down.

'Harry dear,' Mrs Runcorn said very seriously, still holding his hand, 'my daughter talks very highly of you. She speaks of your loyalty, resourcefulness, determination, strength, cunning, and bravery. Because of this I need to ask something of you.'

Harry didn't quite like where this was going, but he wasn't going to argue with one of his best friends sick mother.

'I might not be around for much longer, and my husband is not very skilled in the caring department. When I am gone my daughter is going to need support, someone she trusts enough to let her guard down and actually express her emotions, someone she can trust to be vulnerable with. I want you to try and be that person, Harry. Make her feel safe, give her someone to talk to, and most of all, be there for her. Will you promise me you will try to be there for her when I am gone.'

Harry wasn't sure what to say, he had not prepared to take on such a responsibility. He also wondered why she hadn't asked Tracey, who was much closer to Allison. But she had decided to ask him, and he likely would have done what she was requesting even if she hadn't asked. So slowly, he nodded his head.

'I promise to support her if and when she needs it.'

'Good,' she said, finally letting go of his hand, 'now you should go catch up to your friends and family. Go along.'

Not knowing what else to say, Harry rose and set off to the entrance to the stairs where the others were waiting for him.

'What did she want?' asked Theodore as he caught up to them.

'I think she mistook me for the healer, and asked if she could some Christmas candy,' Harry wasn't entirely sure why he lied, but his siblings seemed to believe him, though Allison didn't look as convinced. She didn't say anything however, just opened the door to the stairs.

'Thank you all for being with me, I am going to stay here, so I'll see you all at the start of winter term. Happy Christmas.'

But as Harry and the others descended the stairs to return to Dangerous Dai Llewellyn Ward, Harry thought about Percy sending his Christmas present back, Neville being forced to visit parents that don't even remember him, and Allison's mother on her death bed, and wondered if it was as happy of Christmas as he had thought it was that morning.

I haven’t read it because I haven’t had time to read all of it but…

You are brilliant with this and every chapter just makes me want to read it, the fact that they are actually the size of real chapters blows me away. I should say you should be really and truly proud of yourself even though you are not done it’s just stunning ✨🫶🏼💖🥰

This is truly amazing.

Wow, thank you both so very much. Yes, I put a lot of effort into every chapter, and although I don't have the spare time that I used to, I still am trying to get as much writing done as I can. I big plans for the last couple books so I am not giving up any time soon.

For @GeminiShadow11 specifically, every chapter 1 of one of my books has a link to the entirety of the previous book, so if you ever want to read more of what I previously wrote that is an easier way to do so, though there is no pressure to do so.

And for both of you, if either of you would like to get notified anytime I'm done a chapter let me know and I'll add you to the tag list in future chapters.

I just, I honestly feel proud and I haven’t even read it. This series has been going on since the day I joined, it was one of the first posts I saw and I have looked at the comments and the length. It just makes me feel so happy :)

Oh yes, while your profile picture has changed over time I believe, I do remember seeing your upvotes other the years and I do appreciate them.

Awwww, my user has changed once before too but only when I first joined.

Sorry ot