Eagle's Flight // Frarry

Year 1.7*

Revised: March 6, 2022 (finally!)

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Midway through December, snow fell, covering the ground with a thick blanket and leaving the classrooms and corridors freezing. The dungeons were especially chilly, and many students kept as close to their cauldrons as possible.

"I do feel so sorry for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home," Pansy Parkinson said one day.

Ever since Harry and Draco had started a tentative friendship, Draco had backed off on teasing Harry. Parkinson, however, seemed to find it up to her to take his place.

The unlikely pair left the dungeons together and saw a fir tree blocking the corridor.

"Need help?" Harry asked.

"Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Harry," Hagrid said.

"So what are you doing for the holidays, Draco?" Harry asked.

"My father received an invitation from the Zabinis," Draco replied. "What about you? Going back to your aunt and uncle?"

"No, I'm better off here," Harry said evasively.

He had been careful not to say too much about his relatives, and to his relief, Draco didn't push the subject. Instead, Harry focused on describing how Muggles adapted to a world without magic and invented technology like the television, the phone, and vehicles. Draco had been impressed despite himself, although he tried to play it off as mild interest. Slowly, Draco was beginning to appreciate what magic-less individuals could accomplish, and as a result began a growing grudging respect for Muggle-borns.

"And think about this," Harry had said once, "before all the cranes and bulldozers, they had to make everything by hand!"

"Whoa!" Draco had exclaimed. "I mean, that sounds cool, I guess," he added quickly.

"It's going to be pretty lonely," Harry said now as they walked around the fir tree. "Not a lot of people are staying."

"You'll be fine, Harry," Draco said. "The Weasleys are staying, I hear. Maybe they'll drag you into their mischief."

"Maybe." The thought of spending time with that rowdy bunch filled Harry with apprehension and eagerness.

Terry Boot was the only one in Harry's dorm that was staying at Hogwarts for the holiday. In the morning, he shook Harry awake. The first word that registered in Harry's tired mind was "presents."

"I've got presents?" Harry said.

Terry gave him a strange look. "Is there a reason why you wouldn't?"

"No." Harry wished he hadn't opened his mouth. "Course not."

The first gift, a hand-made wooden flute, was from Hagrid. His relatives were kind enough to send him a fifty-pence piece. A lumpy parcel revealed a hand-knitted sweater that came with a box of fudge.

"That would be from Mrs. Weasley," Terry told him. "I heard she makes one for all her children every year. It's a tradition for them, I guess."

The last one was a silvery gray sheet that fell to the floor in a heap. "What's this?"

"It looks like some kind of cloak. Try it," Terry said.

Harry threw it over his shoulders, and Terry gasped. "Whoa! Harry, look at yourself!"

Harry walked over to the mirror. Only his head was visible in the reflection, seeming to float in midair. "An Invisibilty Cloak!" Terry sounded envious. "Hey, there's a note."