The Other Castellan

Christmas

Chapter 9: Christmas

Before long, Christmas had arrived. One morning in mid-December, the entire school woke to find the grounds covered in multiple feet of gleaming, white powder. There was a thick sheet of ice covering the Black Lake and Fred and George had gotten detention for bewitching snowballs so they bounced on the back of Quirrell's turban. Technically Lucas helped them, but he was more sneaky. The few owls that had managed to brave the stormy weather to deliver post had to be nursed back to full health before they could fly off again.

Nobody could wait until the holidays. While the Slytherin Common room and the Great Hall, had great, roaring fires, the draughty halls had become incredibly icy and harsh winds clattered the classroom windows. The worst was the Potions classroom, where their breaths rose in a cold mist in front of them as they kept close as possible to their hot cauldrons. It made Lucas nostalgic for Camp Half-Blood, where bad weather never penetrated the magical borders unless they wanted it to.

"I do feel sorry," Blaise said, one Potions lesson, as they tried to follow the instructions for their potions as best as they could, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

The Slytherins laughed, but Lucas rolled his eyes and continued measuring his powdered spine of lionfish, resisting the urge to give him a few broken bones. Blaise had become increasingly nasty after the match, and Lucas was finding it harder and harder to restrain himself. Upset that Slytherin had lost the match, he tried to get everyone to laugh by spreading a rumour about how a wide-mouthed tree frog would be replacing Harry's position as a Seeker. Then he soon dawned on him that nobody found this funny because they were all in awe about how Harry had managed to stay on his broomstick. So poor, poor Blaise, who was furious and resentful, had gone back to taunting Harry about not having a proper family.

True, Harry wasn't going back home for the holidays. And neither was Lucas. Of course, Blaise didn't know that, but Lucas wasn't planning on telling him. If Harry wasn't going back home, Lucas wasn't. He wasn't going to go back to Camp Half-Blood and unintentionally get Harry killed. Besides, the Weasley twins and their brothers were staying too- their parents, Arthur and Molly Weasley were going to Romania to visit Fred and George's brother, Charlie.

At the end of Potions, Lucas followed Harry and Ron out of the Dungeons, where a ginormous fir tree was taking up the corridor in front of them. Two large feet stuck out behind it and a large puffing sound told Lucas all he needed to know. The person behind the tree was Hagrid.

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

"Nah, I'm alright," Hagrid replied. "Thanks, Ron."

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" Blaise's voice came from behind them, and Lucas sighed. Perfect. Just what he wanted. "Are you trying to earn yourself some extra money, Weasley?" he continued. "Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose- that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

Ron launched himself at Blaise just in time for Snape to see as he came up the stairs.

"WEASLEY!"

Ron quickly released his grip on Blaise's robes.

"He was provoked, Professor Snape," Hagrid explained, his huge, hairy face popping out from behind the tree. "Zabini was insulting his family."

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