Beginners: book 1, Goblet of Fire

Winter

Autumn melts into winter. The constant rain into snow. With the announcement of the Yule Ball, everyone has much to look forward to. The countdown to Christmas begins, with nearly everyone signing up to stay over the break.

The Friday after the announcement I'm up late in the common room, trying to write a letter to dad. I've written him every week without fail, but how do I tell him I want to spend Christmas here, leaving him alone in our new house. Grandma's health has started to deteriorate, so they can't come here either, he'll be all alone.

Dear Dad,

As you know the Triwizard Tournament is taking place this year at Hogwarts. There is a tradition of a yule ball with the tournament, it will take place on Christmas,

"Obviously," I mutter to myself, crumpling up the paper and tossing it into the pile with all the others.

"What are you doing?" Comes a voice from the dorm stairs. Harry stands in the doorway, in his pyjamas and a robe.

"Trying to find a way to tell dad I don't want to come home for Christmas," I say, tossing my quill and parchment onto the table. "Can't sleep?"

In the past months, our night time meetings have become more informal. The unspoken rule of no talking is gone unless someone makes it clear they don't want conversation. We chat about anything and everything, I think it makes it easier, acting like it isn't weird that we can't sleep.

"Nope," He says, plopping down beside me. "Why can't you tell your father?"

"This is our first Christmas in England, first Christmas in the new house. Christmas was mom's favourite, we always spent it together. Now, I want to leave him all alone in a new country, so I can go to a dance."

"Surely he'll understand," Harry says, looking at the pile of discarded letters.

"Oh, of course, he will, doesn't mean I won't feel bad about it." I lean back in the chair, grinding the heels of my hands into my eyes. "I can't stop picturing him alone, in our empty house, on Christmas. Snow falls, carols play, and there's no one there to spend it with." Much to my surprise, tears form in my eyes, which I quickly wipe away.

"I've stayed at Hogwarts every year, can't imagine Christmas anywhere else." He says, which doesn't help, but I appreciate him trying to make conversation.

"If I don't go home, I won't see him until easter."

"Well, you can't miss the ball," he says.

"I know, I just don't know how to tell him." I sigh, grabbing the quill and parchment again.

Dear Dad,

I pause, "just be honest," Harry whispers in my ear.

I hate to say it, but I want to stay back for Christmas. I know we just moved, but the Triwizard Tournament is this year and they're throwing a ball. I guess that's why we needed dress robes. If you hate the idea, I'll come home. But to be honest, I really want to go.

Love you,

Beth

"Right, there we go," I say, folding up the letter. "Rip off the band-aid, right?"

"Sure," he chuckles.

I get up and tidy the mess of crumpled letters. I grab my potions book and sit at another chair, taking notes on an antidote essay we have coming up. Harry, understanding that this is now work time, takes out a book about quidditch and begins to read.

I fall asleep, head leaned against my hand, writing scribbles on beaozers. I awake with a blanket draped over me, like so many mornings before. Harry is gone, the fire has died to coals, and chunky snowflakes are falling outside the window. Crookshanks is curled up next to me, purring loudly. Even with the lack of sleep, I'm perfectly content. I tiptoe upstairs and throw on my robes. Grabbing my letter, I head out to the owlery. The snow seems to muffle the world, dulling all sound. The castle in the morning holds all the same privacy as the castle at night but is so much less foreboding. I take the long way around, watching the snowfall and icicles form. By the time I've secured my letter to a school owl, it's nearly time for breakfast. I run-up to the dorms and change, they've all already left so the common room is near empty. I throw on my uniform and some simple makeup before sprinting back down. The Great Hall is warm and full of people. The tables lined with eggs and sausage.