The Last Protection: Harriett Potter's Legacy

Chapter 43: A Yule to Remember

The snow outside Beauxbatons Academy fell in thick, soft flakes, blanketing the grounds in pristine white. The icy air bit gently at the skin of students rushing between classes, and the excitement of the upcoming holiday break buzzed through the corridors. Harriett Black, however, found herself torn. It was her first Yule away from home, and though she had initially resolved to stay at school and experience a quieter holiday, her resolve had been crumbling over the past week.

The thought of missing the familiar warmth of her family, the comforting presence of her grandfather Orion, and the chaotic humor of her uncle Sirius began to weigh heavily on her. By the time the break was only days away, she had sent an owl to her grandfather, telling him she wished to return home for the holidays. The reply had come swiftly, as if Orion had anticipated her change of heart.

Dearest Harriett,
Your decision pleases me greatly. The house will feel much brighter with you here. Sirius and I shall await your arrival at the Floo station. Be assured that your room is already prepared, adorned to your liking. Travel safely, my dear.
Yours affectionately,
Grandfather

Harriett folded the letter and smiled, her heart swelling with warmth. The idea of the Black family home decked out in festive splendor filled her with eager anticipation.

---

The final morning at Beauxbatons was a frenzy of packing. Harriett carefully folded her school robes, neatly arranging them in her trunk beside her collection of books and magical trinkets. Her roommates, Sabine and Amélie, chattered around her, brimming with questions about her holiday plans.

“Do you have grand celebrations at your home?” Sabine asked, perched on the edge of Harriett’s bed.

Harriett nodded as she tied a ribbon around a small bundle of gifts she’d prepared for her family. “Oh, absolutely. My family takes Yule very seriously. My aunt Narcissa ensures every corner of the house is decorated. The feasts are massive, and the gift exchange can get a little… competitive.”

Sabine giggled. “Competitive?”

Harriett smirked. “Yes. My uncle Sirius and my grandfather both have a habit of trying to outdo each other when it comes to gifts. Last year, Sirius gave me a magical set of paints that created moving portraits, and my grandfather responded by gifting me a rare spellbook from the sixteenth century.”

Amélie sighed wistfully. “It sounds so magical. Will you bring us back stories?”

“Of course,” Harriett promised, hugging her friends tightly.

---

By noon, Harriett stood in Beauxbatons’ Floo room, her trunk beside her. Madame Maxime, as imposing as ever, bid her farewell. “Enjoy your holiday, Harriett. You’ve worked hard this term—you deserve the rest.”

Harriett smiled up at her headmistress. “Thank you, Madame Maxime. I’ll see you after the break.”

With a pinch of Floo powder, Harriett stepped into the grand fireplace, clearly enunciating her destination: “Black Estate, Paris.”

The swirling green flames transported her instantly, and she emerged into the familiar warmth of her family’s townhouse. She stumbled slightly, coughing as soot clung to her robes, but she was immediately steadied by strong hands.

“Harriett!” Sirius’s voice boomed, full of joy. He pulled her into a tight hug, lifting her off the ground. “About time you decided to come home. The house felt far too quiet without you.”

Harriett laughed, the warmth of her uncle’s embrace melting away the tension she hadn’t realized she carried. “I missed you too, Uncle Sirius.”

Orion Black stood a few steps away, his dignified presence commanding attention despite the softness in his expression. “Welcome home, my dear,” he said, stepping forward to place a hand on her shoulder. “Your absence was felt keenly.”

Harriett’s throat tightened with emotion, but she managed a bright smile. “I’m glad to be back, Grandfather.”

---

The Black estate was breathtakingly festive. The grand hall boasted a towering Yule tree adorned with silver and emerald ornaments, enchanted snowflakes drifting lazily around its branches. Garlands of evergreen and holly wrapped around the marble banisters, and the scent of pine mingled with the aroma of spiced cider wafting from the kitchen.

Over the next few days, the house was alive with activity. Narcissa and Andromeda, as usual, took charge of the decorations, their differing tastes leading to spirited debates.

“Narcissa, honestly,” Andromeda huffed one afternoon, holding a silver garland aloft, “gold is so garish. Silver is far more elegant.”

“Garish?” Narcissa retorted, glaring at her sister. “Gold is traditional, Andromeda. Silver is fine for accents, but it lacks warmth.”

Harriett, who had been tasked with stringing fairy lights along the smaller trees, chuckled as she watched them bicker. “Why not use both?” she suggested diplomatically.

Her cousins, Draco and Nymphadora, arrived a few days later, though Draco was only stopping by briefly before returning to Durmstrang for their own winter celebrations. The house felt fuller than it had in years, the lively energy lifting everyone’s spirits.

---

Yule Eve was nothing short of spectacular. The family gathered in the grand dining hall, where the table was laden with an extravagant feast. Roast goose, glazed carrots, spiced potatoes, and steaming tureens of rich soups were only the beginning. Dobby, the family’s loyal house-elf, had outdone himself, and Harriett made sure to thank him personally.

Orion presided over the table with quiet pride, his presence a steady anchor amidst the lively chatter. Sirius kept the atmosphere light with his jokes and stories, while Narcissa and Andromeda ensured everyone’s plates were full.

After the meal, they moved to the sitting room for the gift exchange. Harriett sat cross-legged on the floor near the roaring fire, her heart racing with excitement as Sirius handed her a beautifully wrapped package.

“Go on, kiddo,” he urged with a grin.

Harriett carefully unwrapped the gift, revealing a gleaming silver charm bracelet. Each charm was intricately crafted, depicting symbols meaningful to their family—a serpent for their heritage, a star for their resilience, and a tiny phoenix for hope.

“It’s enchanted,” Sirius explained. “The charms will expand as you add memories to it.”

Harriett’s eyes brimmed with tears. “It’s perfect. Thank you, Uncle Sirius.”

Orion’s gift came next—a leather-bound journal embossed with her initials. “For your thoughts and reflections,” he said, his gaze warm. “A Black’s legacy is as much in their words as in their deeds.”

Harriett smiled, touched by his thoughtfulness.

---

As the evening wore on, the family shared stories by the fire. Sirius regaled them with tales of his rebellious youth, drawing laughter from everyone, while Orion shared quieter, more reflective anecdotes from his own past.

Harriett found herself curled up beside her grandfather, her head resting against his arm. The fire crackled softly, and the room was filled with the sounds of laughter and the gentle hum of contentment.

For the first time in months, Harriett felt completely at peace. She belonged here, surrounded by the love and strength of her family. As the clock struck midnight and the snow continued to fall outside, Harriett silently vowed to treasure these moments for the rest of her life.