Pandora Malfoy and the Philosopher's Stone

Chapter Thirty-Six: The Search for Flamel

One morning in mid-December, I woke to find the grounds covered in several feet of snow. The lake had frozen solid, and the Weasley twins were soon given detention for bewitching several snowballs so they'd follow Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver post had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again.

I seemed to be the only person in the castle who wasn't excited for the holidays. True, it would be good to be able to avoid the draughty corridors and icy classrooms, but being at home was not going to be fun... at all.

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

I immediately shut him up with a look of death, using it to silently remind him that I wasn't wanted at home either — at least, not by Father — and that the only reason I was allowed home for the holidays was to 'keep up appearances'.

Out of the Gryffindors, very few were staying at Hogwarts for the holidays. Those that were doing so included Harry, whose home life I was becoming increasingly worried about, and the Weasleys, whose parents were going to Romania to see Charlie, the second eldest Weasley kid. Hermione and I would both be going home, along with most of the rest of the school, it seemed.

When we left the dungeons at the end of Potions, we found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet and a loud puffing sound told us that Hagrid was behind it.

"Hi Hagrid, want any help?" Ron asked, sticking his head through the branches.

"Nah, I'm alrigh' thanks, Ron."

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" came Draco's cold voice from behind us. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose — that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what you're used to."

Ron dived at Draco just as Snape came up the stairs.

"WEASLEY!"

I flinched badly at the yell, and Ron let go of the front of Draco's robes.

"He was provoked, Professor Snape," Hagrid said, sticking his face out from behind the tree. "Malfoy was insultin' his family."

"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," Snape said silkily. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."

Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle smirked as they pushed roughly past the tree, scattering pine needles everywhere.

"I'll get him," Ron said, grinding his teeth at Draco's back. "One of these days, I'll get him—"

"I hate them both," Harry said. "Malfoy and Snape."

"I'll talk to Draco about it later," I said, sighing quietly. "I don't know why he keeps being such a git — he's not like this at home..."

"Come on, cheer up, it's nearly Christmas," Hagrid said. "Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."

The four of us followed Hagrid and his tree to the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations.

"Ah, Hagrid, the last tree — put it in the far corner, would you?"

The hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no fewer than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.