Christmas was soon approaching and the halls of Hogwarts were buzzing with excitement A thick blanket of fresh dazzling snow had covered the pointed rooftops of Hogwarts castle, the lake had frozen over, and all the evergreen trees on the school grounds sported a layer of white frost and flurries upon their green pines. It was if the sky had fallen and Hogwarts was laying among clouds.

Harry and his friends had spent their afternoons after class playing on the lawns that were now buried in snow, imprinting snow angels onto the ground or skating on the frozen lake. Fred and George had their fun too, as they bewitched a couple snowballs that constantly bounced off the back of Professor Quirrell's as they followed him around the grounds. The few owls that made it through the new snowy weather had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could be sent off again. Hedwig seemed to enjoy the wintery season, but not many others shared her sentiments.

The weather was getting colder.

Every fireplace in the castle was burning a ferocious fire to keep everyone warm. In the Common Rooms and Great Hall the students kept cozy and warm, but the drafty hallways and corridors became icy when the sun wasn't shining. It was especially bad in the Potions classroom: in a dungeon where the students could see their own breaths mist up their cauldrons as they huddled up as close as they could to the fires underneath. So some students were eagerly awaiting the holidays to arrive.

Every time Harry and his friends had the misfortune to pass Malfoy and his cronies in the halls or in the classrooms, they heard him bragging about what he'd do during the holidays.

"I've got a large field on my estate, we're going to have a pure blood Quidditch tournament when all the high born families come over for the holidays!" He said loudly over his cauldron during class one day. Malfoy was incredibly disgusted that Slytherin had lost the last Quidditch game and kept sniping at Harry from behind, suggesting that Gryffindor's new mascot should be some sort of wide-mouthed tree frog. But everyone else was very impressed that Harry was able to stay on his bucking broom. So, jealous and angry, Malfoy slightly changed his tactics.

"I can sympathize with some of the people staying at Hogwarts for the holidays, I mean, I would be positively embarrassed if one of my family members was a squib. I wouldn't want to go back to a mess like that either!" Malfoy looked over at Harry as he spoke, earning a few hushed chuckles from Crabbe and Goyle.

Harry continued measuring out his powdered spine of lion fish and ignored them. It was true he was staying at Hogwarts for the holidays, but not for the reason Malfoy thought. The Kirklands actually had a cottage in Hogmeade, a town nearby Hogwarts. Uncle Dylan had been cleaning the old cottage up the past few months and the rest of his brothers decided it would be a great place to spend the holidays and avoid violating the Dursley's zero tolerance for magic rules. So when Professor McGonagall came by to make a list of students that would be staying at Hogwarts, Harry gladly signed up along with Ron and the rest of his brothers. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were going to Romania to visit Charlie, so he was looking forward to having the castle almost all to himself, without Malfoy ruining the atmosphere.

Neville looked over Harry's notes to measure some lizard eyes (he had forgotten his own notebook yet again) and whispered quietly to Harry, "Just ignore them, it's a stupid rumor anyway."

"He's right," Ron said. "Draco's just jealous Mr. Alistair spends more time with my dad now and not his. The only one who probably hates the Malfoys more than you is your Uncle." Harry nodded and focused on his own potion brewing in his cauldron, the simmering bubbles doing little to drown out Malfoy's jeering voice.

"Truly a shame there's a squib in the Kirkland family!" Pansy called, "I guess whatever curse the Stewards suffered had affected the Kirklands too!"

"Serves those blood traitors right," Goyle added, "let's hope the Waverlys and Jones follow their example soon!"

Ron stirred his potion in his cauldron angrily as they all counted down to when they could leave the class.

When they got out of the dungeons, they were blocked by a large fir tree in the corridor. They could tell Hagrid was behind it, judging by the pair of enormous boots peeking out from below and the puffing sound coming from behind.

"Hey Hagrid, need any help?" Ron asked.

"Nah, I'm all right, thanks Ron."

"Do you mind moving aside?" Malfoy drawled from behind them. He took one snide glance at Ron and said, "Are you looking for some extra money, Weasley? If you're lucky you could be Gamekeeper when you leave Hogwarts. Hagrid's hut must feel like a palace compared to what you're used to-"

Ron lunged at Malfoy, grabbed the silver and green tie at his throat and raised his fist high above his head. "You say a blood foul thing about our families again and I'll-"

"WEASLEY!" Snape's voice snapped in the air.

Ron let go of Malfoy's robes with a huff.

"He was provoked, Professor Snape," Hagrid defended as he stuck his head out from behind the fir, "Malfoy was insultin' 'is family."

"That does not excuse him from breaking school rules." Snape replied. "Fighting is not allowed under any circumstances, that's five points from Gryffindor, Weasley. Be grateful it isn't more." He said coolly before he walked around Hagrid and left the hall. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle pushed the fir roughly out of their way, sending pine needles scattered everywhere.

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

"Hey, cheer up, it's nearly Christmas." said Hagrid. "Why don't you lot follow me to the Great Hall, looks a treat."

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

The Hall was simply stunning. Giant festoons of holly and mistletoe hung about the room, dotted with tiny icicles that flickered like candles. The mural on the ceiling had a holiday makeover too; instead of the grey and cloudy sky outside, the mural shone with a technicolor of a millions stars, like a rainbow tinted galaxy. Hagrid set the tree in one of the corners of the Hall, one of 12 that dotted the walls.

"Well, holidays start tomorrow, who's stayin' and who's goin'?" Hagrid asked.

"Me and Neville are going home, Ron and Harry are staying," Hermine said. "Oh, that reminds me, we only have an hour left before lunch, we should go to the library." she said to the boys.

"Library? Right before break? Your Professors aren't really giving you homework over the holidays, are they?

"It's not for homework," Harry said brightly, "Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we've been trying to find out who he is."

Hagrid looked shocked "Now listen here-drop this. It's nothin' your business what Fluffy's guardin'."

"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all." Neville said.

"Unless you want to save us the trouble and tell us who he is? Just give us a hint, I know I've read his name somewhere." Harry said.

Hagrid crossed his arms and stood steadfast. His great beard swished widely as he shook his head in an adamant 'no'. "I'm sayin' nothin'."

Harry and Hermione shrugged their shoulders and headed towards the library, Ron and Neville eagerly followed.

When they got to the library, they claimed the same table they have been using for the past month or so in their quest to find Nicolas Flamel and find out what Snape was trying to steal. But they've already searched through probably a hundred books without even a mention of him. They couldn't ask the librarian for help lest they risk exposing their little operation, and Harry and Hermione doubted he would show up in a Muggle Google search even if they had access to it in the first place. So, the four friends continued their tedious routine of picking a book, sitting at the table and looking for that elusive name.

Hermione had a list of subjects she thought were relevant enough to pursue and was slowly making it down that list. Neville and Ron made their way down the aisles and picked off interesting books at random. Harry made a wayward stride towards the Restricted Section, wondering if the reason Nicolas Flamel was so hard to find in the rest of the library was because he was hidden away somewhere in there. The Restricted Section was barred to all students except upper years who were studying advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts. The librarian had already shooed him away from the shelves with a feather duster once, so he decided against venturing down that way again.

Instead, he picked up a thick, leather bound book off a nearby shelf. Its cover was slightly worn with age, and the gilded gold lettering had lost its sheen, but he could still make out the title, "Pureblood Families of Britain." He figured it would give them a lead, if they could at least find out who he was related to.

He sat down beside Ron and flipped the book open to a random page. He was greeted by the words "House of Malfoy, of the Sacred Twenty-Eight" and a regal looking crest beneath. The black, green and silver crest reminded him of the Syltherin emblem, except even more dark and foreboding. The crest featured a pair of fierce dragons that held up a shield with a large letter M emblazoned in silver. A small snake sat on the top, with its fangs bared.

At the very bottom of the page was a short paragraph that looked like the start of a comprehensive family history and a list of some notable members. Of course Lucius Malfoy's name was there. Being a high born, he was significant just for existing.

Harry nearly slammed the book closed again, fuming at the crest that taunted him.

"You think Nicolas Flamel would be a Pureblood?" Ron asked, looking over Harry's elbow.

"I think purebloods seem to have a better reputation than other wizards, it would be more likely to find him in a book if he is one, right?" Harry reasoned.

Ron nodded. It was an unfortunate truth, a Muggleborn would likely have had to do something exceptionally special to get published in one of these dusty tomes, but Purebloods are sure to be recorded in hundreds of editions of wizard genealogies the minute they're born.

"Let's not look at that." Ron said after a while. He turned a few pages over to try and get to were the 'F' families would be. He stopped at a page with the Kirkland family crest on it. It featured a shield that was mostly green, like the Malfoy crest, but it looked somewhat friendlier and more open. A golden lion and unicorn held the shield between them, which had a golden letter K with a crown on it. In fact, there were quite a few crowns in the crest, atop the heads of both the lion and the unicorn, and on the little gold dragon that sat on top of the shield.

"It looks like the coat of arms of the United Kingdom," Harry mused.

The family history described in the book was scant and looked as if it were incomplete.

It did mention a lot of notable members, enough that five more pages were needed to fit them all. Some included witches and wizards like Eleanor Kirkland: a powerful Auror who guarded the Royal Family during the World Wars, Tom Kirkland: a young prodigy who created the potion wizards used for developing photos to make them move, and Aldrich Kirkland: who was Hogwarts' History of Magic professor before he served as a general during WW2. "I bet he would be a more interesting History of Magic teacher than Binns is..." Ron groaned.

The most recent entries were about some of Harry's uncles; Dylan who was described as one of the best Aurors of his time and was a Dragon Animagius, and Connor, one of the youngest Seekers in the British and Irish Quidditch League.

"Your dad isn't here," Ron observed.

"He works in the Muggle Government, I doubt wizards actually find that notable." Harry shrugged.

"But he works with the Queen, right?"

"Yup, I met her once."

Harry looked at the top of the page where a cursive script read 'House of Kirkland, of the Venerate Three'.

"What does this mean?" he pointed to the words, 'Venerate Three,' "It says the Malfoys are 'of the Sacred Twenty-Eight', and the Kirklands are 'of the Venerate Three', what's all that?"

"You don't know?" Ron asked, slightly taken aback, "Sorry, I guess you really don't if your dad didn't tell you. The Sacred Twenty-Eight is supposed to be a list of all the truly Pureblood families in Britain. It makes the members feel all special because being on the list means they haven't got a drop of Muggle blood in 'em. It's all rubbish if you ask me. Every wizard's got some in them, or else we'd have all died out centuries ago. But i guess some families would prefer that than admit they're almost just as half-blood as the rest of us. I think my family would be in here too," Ron flipped through the pages again to the end, where they found the Weasley crest and that cursive script that labeled the family as sacred.

"See, we are here, but I know I've got Muggle ancestors, and I'm proud of that." he puffed up his chest slightly. Harry hummed in agreement and flipped through the pages again.

Another 'W' name he'd heard in passing, 'Waverly' bore the label as another member of the Venerate Three.

"Oh! Let me check something!" Ron said excitedly. he slid the book over in front of him and kept a finger on the Waverly page to keep his spot as he flipped through the book to find another crest. "Wow, it's really true, they're mirrors of each other, look."

Ron flipped the pages quickly to flash the crests on top of the other and compare them. The left side of the Waverly crest had a lion, just like in the Kirkland crest, it held up a blue-green shield with a gold W. On the right side, was a flowing tree branch with bright green leaves that looked almost like spades. Sitting on top of the Waverly shield was a knight's helmet. The other crest was of the Steward family, and was the mirror image of the Waverly crest. But the tree branch was slightly different, with leaves that were almost egg shaped, flowing about a red shield with a silver S that was held by a unicorn. "And if you cover up the tree branches, what do you get..." Ron flipped back to the Kirkland crest. The two halves made a whole.

Harry's eyes widened, he didn't know a thing about this at all. He flipped through the crests, they were all part of the Three. "What does that mean?"

Ron shrugged, "Some say they're related to Muggle royalty, or that they're all descended from Merlin. But they're all really mysterious, they're in a league of their own. I'm sure Hermione would know, if she's found a book about the lot." he laughed.

Harry flipped over to study the Steward's family page. There were no notable family members listed and the family history was summed up in one short line:

'The Stewards have been cursed for betraying their Slytherin ancestry and are a shame to the Wizarding World.'

Harry thought back to the Slytherin gossip in Potions class then whispered quietly. "Pansy Parkinson said the Stewards are cursed, are they really?"

"They could be..." Ron said sadly, "I think for the past century, a lot of them have been squibs. That's probably why you've never heard of them. The last magic one was some Gryffindor girl back in my parents' year, but she was killed during the War. I heard that the one remaining member is some teacher in the American Wizarding school, Ilvermorny."

"But my dad isn't a squib." Harry said. "The Kirkland's can't be cursed."

"I know," Ron said. "It's just a rumour the other Purebloods float around, maybe because the Kirklands are considered bloodtraitors too. Like my family. It just means we don't hate Muggleborns."

Harry then skimmed through the family history of the Waverly's and finally found Nicolas Flamel's name. "Ron! Look!" he pointed to the short paragraph, it was just as brief as the Kirklands and listed only a few notable members. One entry caught Harry's eye 'Merlin Wyllt studied under Nicolas Flamel for a brief time, starting in 1375'. The two boys waved Hermione and Neville over to see.

"That must have been his ancestor though, look at the date." Hermione pointed to the numbers in fancy script. "This is nearly 650 years ago. It can't be the same man we're looking for."

"Maybe we're looking for a Nicolas Flamel Jr.?" Neville suggested. "It could be a precious family heirloom that Snape is trying to steal. Does that book say anything else?"

Harry and Ron re-read the family history of the Waverly's but turned up no leads. Ron flipped towards the front to 'F' where they found the crests of Fawley and Flint, but there was no Flamel family listed.

With a great sigh, the four friends left the library without much more information on Flamel than when they started.

After lunch, Harry and Ron saw Neville and Hermione off to their holidays, leaving Harry and the Weasely boys with the Gryffindor Common Room almost all to themselves.

Harry and Ron were having a grand time by themselves once the holidays started. Because the Common Room was less busy than usual, they were able to get some good seats by the fire. They tried roasting anything they could fit on a toasting fork- from bread and marshmallows, to various kinds of foreign candies and some tiny German sausages Arthur and his colleagues at Atlas had sent them in the mail.

A few days before Christmas Eve, a package came in the mail for Harry. As Hedwig nibbled at his French toast, Harry read the card:

Here's an early Christmas present, I hope you enjoy.

You won't find a set like this at Diagon Alley, because I carved and painted it myself. Maybe by the time I visit you'll know the rules well enough to play against me.

I've also put a longevity charm on them, so they'll last a very long time, and quite a few battles too.

We're packing for the road now, I hope Hedwig will make it safely. I packed in a bag of treats for her too, as a reward. Now wish me luck, I'm riding with your Uncle Alistair, you know he's only a good singer if he's drunk.

Love, Arthur

And Alistair, and Dylan, and Connor

Harry untied a small bag filled with treats from the package and fed them to Hedwig. Then he unwrapped the large package.

It was a Wizard Chess set. The pieces looked like they belonged in a Medieval court. Some of the pieces reminded Harry of the sturdy suits of armor that lined the hall of Hogwarts. They were even wearing chain mail made of tiny rings of metal, and robes of a soft fabric. It seemed the board was divided into four quadrants, with the pieces bearing the colours of each of the Hogwarts Houses. The pawns looked like young squires, each of them wore the crest of Hogwarts carefully stitched into their tunic. The knights and bishops were similar. Each one of the knights sat in a tiny leather saddle atop a delicately painted wooden horse, carrying a lance and a shield emblazoned with a crest of one of the Houses. The bishops looked more like paladins, outfitted in a full regalia of wizard robes and Muggle armour, armed with a staff that held a small glass jewel at the top, which matched the colour of its House. Finally, the rooks looked like archers perched atop one of the towers of Hogwarts castle, with a house banner hung from a small window.

"Wow, that's amazing!" Ron marveled at Arthur's craftsmanship. "These are the House founders!" He exclaimed as he held the two Queens carefully in his hands and studied the pieces closely. "This must be modeled after Rowena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff!" Harry almost didn't hear him, too amazed at the handmade pieces Arthur had clearly worked so hard on to create this stunning set. He held a king piece carefully in his hand, and felt the wizard's robed between his fingers. Harry traced the tiny stitches that Arthur had so lovingly and painstakingly embroidered. He smiled, the golden thread of the Gryffindor lion was iridescent in the morning light.

"So these must be Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin..." Harry held the two Kings in his hands. Their faces were painted with simple smiles and tiny dots that matched their House colours for eyes. For a second, Harry saw a glint in the Gryffindor King's eyes.

"I think I saw it blink!"

"They'll do more than just blink Harry, let's play after breakfast, I'll teach you how." Ron also had a chess set, though his was very old and battered, they felt like experienced troops who's seen many battles and victories. The two boys pit their armies against each other while Fred, George, Percy and Seamus watched.

Like everything Ron owned, his chess set once belonged to someone else in his family-in this case, his grandfather. However, the old chessmen didn't hinder Ron at all. They trusted him, and they acted like loyal soldiers under their general's command. Ron had no trouble getting his pieces to do what he wanted, and directed his army of weathered pieces effectively against Harry's set of rookie knights. Harry wasn't a good player yet and his pieces kept shouting different bits of advice at him, which was pretty confusing.

"Don't send me there, can't you see his rook? Send him! We can afford to lose him!" A bishop pointed at a knight.

"You'll lose your head if I get over there!

"Send me up next!" A solider called from her perch in the rook tower, "I'll pin him, you'll see!" She cried as she pulled back her bow.

"You can't just shoot him! She's more useful over there!"

Harry lost spectacularly in his first game, though he thought he would have done better if Percy hadn't helped so much.

Finally, the day of Christmas Eve arrived, and Harry and Ron woke up to find a pile of presents by the foot of their beds. Harry got a few packages from his uncles: a copy of Curses and Counter-Curses by Professor Vindictus Viridian from Uncle Dylan, a riding helmet and goggles from Uncle Connor, a large bag full of chocolate frogs and peppermint toads along with a soft knitted scarf in Gryffindor colours from Uncle Alistair, ice skates from Uncle Matthew and an ugly Christmas sweater from Uncle Alfred. Uncles Liam and Oz had also sent him a small package, a bag full of sweets and a postcard from Sydney, Australia. Ron marveled as colourful lights swirled around on the surface of the Sydney Opera House.

It was practically summer all year in Australia, so Uncle Oz also sent Harry a couple of pictures of him and Liam dancing on a beach. He was buried to the neck in sand and wore a red and white Santa hat and an enormous smile on his face. 'The guardian of the sand greets you a very Happy Christmas!'

Near the bottom of the pile was a package wrapped in colourful paper, and tied up in a small bow. He ripped the paper open and revealed a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and a small pad of papers with a postcard attached to it. It was mostly blue with a crest that looked like a red flower. Inside the flower were four animals printed in gold ink, and a ribbon that twisted around the whole thing. In blackadder letters, the words 'Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry' trailed along the ribbon. On the other side of the card, a short message in a handwriting he didn't recognize read, 'Dear, Harry, Arthur has told me you like trying out these spells from around the world, so why don't you try these on for size? Aunt Libbet'

Written below was a short spell and eight different hand drawn sigil designs. Some reminded him of the four animals that represented each Hogwarts House, but he didn't recognize the others.

"Oh, a new spell!" Ron looked over Harry's shoulder excitedly. He tried reciting the spell written on the card but nothing happened.

"What about this?" Harry took a page from the small pad of paper that came with the card and roughly doodled the design that reminded him most of the Gryffindor lion onto it. He said the spell a few times and finally, the paper came to life. It folded itself over until it was in the shape of a lion and gave a little roar.

"That's amazing!" Ron crouched down to look at the little lion closely, and poked it with a curious finger. "Ah! He almost bit me!"

Even Uncle Francis had sent him something. A photo album, with most of the pages left blank. The first few pages already had photos pasted on them: a few of Harry's vacation photos with Arthur were colourfully displayed on the page. There was a photo of him and Arthur standing in front of the Eiffel tower, one where they were pretending to hold up the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and a few other choice photos from other significant landmarks.

"Look at this Ron! These are the places I've been with my dad!" Harry pointed out each photo excitedly, "this is us at Checkpoint Charlie in Berlin! And this is in Prague in the Czech Republic, this one is at the Grand Canyon in America, and here's Taipei 101!"

Ron's looked quizzically at the photos. He could tell they were Muggle prints because none of the figures in the photos moved, but they were colourful, unlike wizard photos that were usually only in black and white.

"I know what I should do with this!" Harry suddenly said. He reached under his bed and pulled out his suitcase. Inside was a small shoebox where he kept all his postcards and photos that Arthur had sent him so far. Ron and the others were free to try their hand at the spells Arthur had written on the back of the postcards, so they were scattered loosely inside the box. Arthur's traveling photos on the other hand, were all bound up in a thick rubber band. Harry snapped the rubber band off and fanned the photos out like a deck of cards. He started to pick out the photos and place them inside Uncle Francis's photo album.

Arthur had travelled around the world often, and posed with his friends, family and co-workers in front of breathtaking scenery from all corners of the Earth.

Harry placed a photo of Arthur in Kowloon on the next page. He posed with a teenager and one of his co-workers in front of the Hong Kong skyline, where the building and lights sparkled in the night.

There was one where Arthur was dressed up a fancy white suit alongside one of his work friends in front of the Taj Mahal, and another where he was jumping up and down on a stunning white sand beach in nothing but his swimming trunks with his Uncles Oz and Liam and one of his cousins he knew as Michelle.

Ron looked over Harry's shoulder as he placed the photos in the album, wide eyed and astonished at Arthur's photos. Each one had a short greeting on the back, and signed by Arthur and whoever else was in the photo. "I know you told me Arthur traveled a lot, I didn't know it was this much!"

"Yep! It comes with his job, it's pretty cool!" Harry said as he placed another photo of Arthur in the book. He stood beside a tall blond man with a blue and white scarf and a small scar on his forehead in front of a white windmill. They were up to their ankles in a dense field of tulips.

"Have you been to all these places?" Ron asked.

"Not all of them," Harry flipped through the pages and pointed out some spots he had visited in the past. But there were still so many more places he had yet to travel to with his dad. "I've got a map at home that keeps track of all of these. Dad's been almost everywhere, even Antarctica once! Dad said i could probably visit all the places he's been to one day, but for now I've just got these." Harry gestured to the book in his hands and shook the book slightly as if to test the weight of all its new contents.

"Who are these other people?" Ron pointed to a few faces in the photos.

"I think a lot of them are just his co-workers, but these people," Harry pointed out his Uncles Francis, Alistair, Dylan and Connor and Patrick, Matthew, Alfred, Oz and Liam, and his cousins, Li Xiang and Michelle scattered among the photos, "these are my-I mean Arthur's-I mean my family. Um, they're all Kirklands, (except Uncles Francis and Patrick) even though I haven't met them all yet. Dad said I probably could someday though."

"You've got a big family like me," Ron said happily. Harry smiled. He was glad he'd become part of Arthur's family. He didn't like to think about what would have happened to him if the Ministry hadn't found out his mother, Lily Evans was distantly related to the esteemed Kirkands, even if it was simply by marriage many generations ago. Instead of being a lonely orphan, he was surrounded by a large and loving family. A small part of him still ached for his birth parents, but as he looked at the multiple photos of Arthur, and his wide smile beaming back at him, even from so far away in the world, it helped it fill that void in Harry's heart.

"I'd like to meet your family someday." Ron said, and Harry was suddenly brought back from his day dreaming.

"I'd like to meet yours one day too," Harry replied.

Harry set the photo album on his bed and the two boys continued sifting through their Christmas presents.

He also received some chocolate with frogs from Hermione and a flute that Hagrid had clearly whittled himself.

"And my landlords got me something too." Harry found their tiny envelope under everything else. Ron heard many a tale about Harry's magic hating landlords and wondered what kind of cold hearted gift they would send. Harry, on the other hand, seemed quite pleased they sent him a gift until he opened the card. He discarded their greeting card (there wouldn't be anything new this year, their same old animosity would be found transcribed onto the card) and found a 2 pence piece.

"Aw, they must have found out Dad actually likes to use the 5 pence pieces as guitar picks*." Harry sighed.

"Can I see?" Ron looked amazed by the small coin, "so this is Muggle money? How peculiar."

"You can keep it if you want." Harry said. Ron's eyes gleamed.

"My Dad's going to love this," Ron had turned back to his own pile of presents, which was quite a bit bigger than Harry's. Ron got lots of sweets from his friends and family and a maroon sweater that his mother had knitted by hand.

"That looks like it's going to keep you nice and warm," Harry said.

"Mum knits us a sweater every year, mine's always maroon...I hate maroon..." he said.

Ron's brothers barged into the room, wearing their own Weasley sweaters and badgered Ron to pull his on. Finally, they went down to the Great Hall for breakfast and then headed outside for some fun in the snow.

Some other students from the other Houses were already outside, hidden behind packed up walls of snow and simulating a war with snowballs. Ron and Harry sat in the courtyard with some mugs of hot chocolate from the kitchens, and were about to join in on the snowball war when Hedwig flew by. Ron and Harry set their mugs down on a bench and took the letter that was tied to her leg. Just as Harry set his hands on it, the letter fluttered away, folded itself into some sort of dragonfly and flapped its wings enough to let it hover close by in the cold winter air.

"Wow," Ron was captivated by the folded paper dragonfly, "is this another one of Arthur's postcards, do you think?"

"No, it's from me this time. Kiku taught me how. Dude, you know how he likes his origami," a voice called from behind the two boys. Harry turned around and jumped into the man's arms excitedly.

"Uncle Alfred! What are you doing here?!" Harry cried, his legs wrapped around Alfred's waist and arms held tight above Alfred's elbows.

"I came to pick you up, and to visit Hogwarts, it' been a while since I've been here last," Alfred flashed Harry a wide smile. He was still wearing his Muggle clothes, but he certainly looked warm, bundled up in a puffy parka and knitted hat that covered his ears. Harry set himself down and began to introduce Ron and Alfred to each other. Ron had heard of Alfred before, in the Howler he had sent Harry, and occasionally in the postcards and packages that Arthur had sent. Ron recognized the enthusiastic blond's face from many of the photos in Harry's new album, he often appeared alongside Arthur in photos posing in front of American landmarks. Ron figured Alfred lived or worked in America, and that would explain the man's strong American accent.

"Well, I'd already talked to you Head of House, wonderful lady she is, you can come with me to Hogsmeade, but you'll have to come back here at night." Alfred said.

"That's fine, as long as I can see dad." Harry said excitedly. "Ron, do you want to come to?"

Ron nodded and the three of them headed down the hill and towards the front gates of Hogwarts. Just over the next hill, Harry could make out a small town.

"Down this road," Alfred pointed towards the Kirkland family cottage. It was surrounded by a wooden fence with peeling paint and a couple evergreen trees. It had a large front lawn and many windows dotted the walls: all glowing orange from within. There wasn't a spot of frost upon the windows, and Ron and Harry could practically feel the warmth of the hearths inside from the front gate. Uncle Connor was busy conjuring golden baubles onto the evergreen trees. Harry spotted Uncle Matthew and Uncle Alistair unpacking suitcases and overnight bags from the back of a Volkswagen Golf.

"Need any help?" Alfred asked when he approached.

"No fanks," Alistair lugged a pair of bags onto his shoulders and started towards the cottage's front door. He grunted a greeting at Harry. "I'm good lad, this is the last, jus' hold this for me will ya?" He handed Alfred a steel hip flask and headed inside.

Alfred unscrewed the cap of the flask and took a sip. He instantly recoiled, "I don't know how they rest of them can take it, this stuff tastes awful."

"Aye, that cause that's not whiskey," Alistair teased when he came back out of the house.

"What?" Alfred blanched.

"I mean, we hit some traffic on the M1, and we couldn't reach a pit stop in time-"

"EEEEEWWWW!" Alfred threw the flask at Alistair, and spilled his Scottish whiskey all over the snow. Then Alistair made a dash at Alfred, who ran around the house to avoid him, laughing the whole way round. The two nearly barreled into Matthew and Connor on their high speed chase.

"It's not even lunch time and they're already fighting?" Arthur came out of the house.

"Dad!" Harry cried.

"Harry, love!" Arthur scooped Harry up into a tight hug as they laughed and greeted each other warmly.

"Shouldn't we do something about those two?" Ron pointed to Harry's two uncles, who had now fallen into a pile of snow and seemed to be wrestling.

"Nah," Arthur shrugged his shoulders and looked upon his two brothers with a playful gleam in his eyes.

"Why not?!" Ron asked.

"Because Dylan just made some popcorn." Arthur said with a smile. With a snap of his fingers a red and yellow striped bag of popcorn appeared in Arthur's hands, and he gleefully dug in. "There's a joke in here somewhere," Arthur winked.

"Come on Dad!"

"Okay, okay!." Arthur slid past the two boys and left his bag of popcorn with them. He made his way over to Alfred and Alistair and started kicking snow and scolded them in an exaggerated Cockney accent.

"Neville was wrong, they're not boring at all!" Ron exclaimed. Harry laughed as he stuffed his face with popcorn.

Harry and Ron then spent the day with Uncles Matthew and Alfred making snowmen. Uncle Connor and Uncle Patrick came out for a few hours to have a large snowball war, which Uncle Alfred referred to as a re-creation of the Ardennes Counteroffensive, though Harry and Ron didn't know that that meant.

After a tireless and heart wrenching battle, the opposing forces surrendered and team Harry and Ron claimed victory. Both sides were invited inside and steaming mugs of hot chocolate and marshmallows were offered as a peace offering. Ron was finally formally introduced to the Kirkland clan and Patrick Callahan. He was a bit bewildered by their various accents, from Irish to Welsh to American and Canadian, but he figured that came with working and living so far flung across the country and the pond. It must have been part of the Kirkland charm that made them so intriguing to the rest of the Wizarding World.

Uncle Alistair was the last to be officially introduced, so while the other brothers were busy with things like dinner or getting a laptop to work, Harry, Ron and Uncle Alistair took a seat on the couches in one of the rooms that had a warm fire blazing to drink their hot cocos and snack on cookies. A plate of Christmas cookies sat on a low coffee table in front of them and when Ron reached to take one of the gingerbread cookies, it was quickly replaced by a shortbread cookie. It was almost like the plates in Hogwarts. "I think the last time I saw you, you were just a tinny bean!" Alistair exclaimed as he shook Ron's hand."You're father's a good man, I hope he's enjoyin' 'is holiday in Romania. He deserves it." He said happily.

Ron and Alistair had a pleasant conversation about Ron's father and his own family. How they usually spent their Christmas holidays and what his brothers were getting up to. The Kirkland cottage, though it was clearly just recently restored, felt almost as warm as his own home, filled with all the joy and mirth the brothers could offer in such a short time.

"My dad talks quite a bit about you too, Mr. Kirkland-"

"Please, it's the holidays, jus' call me Alistair!"

"Dad says quite a few things about you, Alistair," Ron said, his cheeks reddened as he sipped his hot chocolate.

"Like what?" Alistair leaned forward in his seat and rested his bearded chin on his knuckles, eager to hear some juicy gossip about himself.

"He admires you for sharing his interest in Muggles and he said you were one of the greatest Aurors of your time. You and Dylan, you both fought against You-Know-Who." Ron said.

"Ha! Your father told ya I was a spy, wasn't I?"

Ron nodded enthusiastically, and Alistair gave a smile that was somewhat wry. He glanced at Harry and set his mug on the table between them. "There are lots of rumours that fly around in the Wizardin' World, I can see why Arthur and Patrick would prefer the Muggles sometimes."

Harry shifted uneasily in his seat. The thought of rumours surrounding his Uncle Alistair brought the vile things Malfoy and the others Syltherins would say about his uncle up to the forefront of his mind. Alistair continued anyway.

"Well, I was a spy, some others go' the story wrong, but I suppose only Dumbledore kens the whole truth. I was fightin' alongside 'im after all."

A spark of warmth grew in Harry's stomach: everybody knew Dumbledore opposed You-Know-Who. Anybody who had Dumbledore's trust couldn't be bad at all.

"You helped Professor Dumbledore fight You-Know-Who?" Ron asked as his eyes shone with excitement.

"How do you think Dumbledore and his allies could fight Death Eaters so effectively? They were actin' on much of my information! Well I've got tons of stories! You ken Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father. Never a dull moment with that young man!

"There was this one time, the Dark Lord sent me and Lucius to go and attack this Muggleborn couple, I wasn't going t' really hurt anyone. I would find their location and feed that info to Dumbledore, and have 'em protected or safely relocated to America if we could." Alistair's voice took on a mocking tone. "Oh, but it turned out Lucius didn't wan' t' go either! It was raining out, poor Lucius didn't wan' t' ruin his fancy robes-"

Ron and Alistair's laughter was cut short by a violin and bow that Arthur had held mere centimeters away from Alistair's nose. The two brothers met eyes, and as if a secret message passed through those deep green forests between them, Alistair and Arthur's lips started to form large smiles.

Alistair gladly took the violin and bow from Arthur and nestled the bottom of the violin between the crook of his neck and left shoulder. Arthur walked over to what looked like a cupboard covered by a tablecloth and whipped the sheet off to reveal an upright piano. He opened the top where a row of keys sat hidden under a thick layer of dust. A quick recitation of the cleaning spell 'Scourgify' remedied that, and the ivory keys shimmered enough to rival the snow outside.

Arthur tapped a key and Alistair started to run the bow over the first string which made a flat, screeching sound, in response. He fiddled with one of the knobs at the head of the violin until the string started to sing and match the piano.

"What are you thinking of playing, Arthur?" Alistair asked over some more violin screeching.

"Whatever sheet music we have here I suppose." Arthur lifted the piano seat and revealed a small compartment filled with music books and loose pages with bars and staffs printed on them. There were scribbles in the margins and in between staffs; tiny chord charts and bridges and bows were scattered among the black ink in scrawled blue. Arthur paused and stuffed them back into the piano seat. "Unless you'd like to suggest a song." He turned to Harry with a sparkle in his eye.

"Can you play 'I'll be home for Christmas' Uncle Alistair?" Harry slightly bounced in his seat.

Alistair and Arthur gladly obliged. Arthur led with the first few bars on the piano until Alistair stood up and joined in with a hauntingly beautiful chords on the violin. Alistair's accent and baritone voice gave an interesting lilt to the song lyrics, but Harry enjoyed it immensely.

Hurried steps sounded loudly from the kitchen. Uncle Alfred caught his arm on the door post and leaned into the room and marveled at the sight before him.

"Are they? OHMYGODTHEYARE!" He exclaimed, then he dashed though the room and up the stairs, laughing excitedly the whole way. He bounded down the steps just as loudly and hastily as before, he even jumped down the last few steps and caught himself with his hands hand knees at the bottom of the landing. When he got up, he held a small rectangular device in his hands.

"I need to record thissss! Gah all the magic here is messing with my phone!"

"Just enjoy the show, Alfie." Patrick laughed as he took a cookie from the plate on the table and leaned against the wall. His whole body seemed at peace, his shoulders were lax against the aged wallpaper, and his lips curled up slightly in a genuine smile. His eyes shone as he looked upon the scene, for once they weren't fighting, they looked like they were all part of a happy family.

Alistair and Arthur's cover soon came to an end, but it was much too early to stop the playing. Patrick lifted off the wall and walked toward the piano seat. Arthur must've heard his footsteps because he started to scoot off the seat.

"No, stay." Patrick grabbed Arthur's wrist and pulled him back onto the seat beside him. "You're bass. I'll be melody."

Arthur blinked a few times, almost confused at what he'd heard, but he quickly got over it, too elated to argue. He smiled brightly and listened for Patrick's playing on the higher notes before providing bass on the lower keys. Once Alistair recognised the tune, he joined in with his violin, and all three brothers started to sing Jingle Bell Rock.

Arthur looked back at Harry and gestured with his chin towards the keys, "come up here, Harry," he called.

Harry got up and stood beside his dad near the end of the piano. Arthur pointed out which keys to press and he followed Patrick's melody until the end of the song.

This continued for a few more Christmas songs. Meanwhile, Ron was left at the couch with his mug of hot coco, and a never ending plate of cookies by the fire. Dylan came out of the kitchen to watch the show, and saw Ron sitting alone with a slight frown upon his lips.

"You look a little down," Dylan leaned over the back of the couch and said quietly to Ron in his strong Welsh accent. "Do you not like the music?"

"I don't know how to play, I kind of feel left out." Ron admitted, none too easily.

"There's always Wizard Chess." Dylan suggested.

"I left my set in Hogwarts." Ron said sadly as he bit his tongue nervously.

Dylan shrugged his shoulders, "I'm sure there's a set somewhere in the cellar. The Steward kids used to live here, they wouldn't you using it." Dylan said as he snatched a cookie from Ron and headed back into the kitchen.

Ron got up and nudged Harry on the shoulder. Together, they headed down into the cellar to find a Wizard Chess set.

In the cellar below the house were more rooms and fireplaces. They could still hear the piano and violin through the solid wood ceiling above them. The brothers seemed to change genre, from Christmas carols to rock and pop songs.

"I didn't know your dad played music," Ron said as he started to look around the dusty rooms.

"You should see him when there's a Queen concert. Or when the Beatles play on the radio," Harry laughed, and he joined Ron in the search for a chess set.

There were a few pantry cupboards with ancient looking jars of who knows what, but most of the cellar was actually filled with books and games. Bookshelves lined the walls, stuffed full with books, comic books and board games. There were a also few desks piled high with crisp white papers and typewriters. The cellar contained an eclectic collection of both Wizarding and Muggle articles.

"Looks like someone went to Hogwarts," Ron said as he picked a book from a nearby shelf. A copy of the Book of Potions by Zygmunt Budge sported a thick layer of dust. He sneezed a few times before he replaced it on the shelf. "Why don't we have this instead of copying what Snape writes on the board?" Ron asked as he swatted away any extra dust from his nose.

Harry shrugged and continued looking for the Steward's chess set. There were a few board games that he figured came from Diagon Alley, and quite a few Muggle games that he recognised. Monopoly. Bakgamon. Scrabble. He even found an old TV with a SNES under a dusty sheet. He and Ron also found a board game called Jumanji, but there were so many rules they weren't interested.

Ron came across a small fireplace that looked like it hadn't been cleaned in forever. He noticed a piece of parchment, blackened and some parts charred away, but he could just barely make out Nicolas Flamel's name written on the aged parchment.

"Harry, look at this!" Ron whispered excitedly. He fished the rest of the papers out of the soot and dusted off the piece that bore Nicolas Flamel's name.

"These are the Steward's things. I know one of them went to Hogwarts, do you think this was part of her homework or something?" Ron asked.

"Who knows? She'd already graduated, and only upper years are allowed in the Restricted Section. Maybe Nicolas Flamel really is there."

The boys exchanged puzzled looks but decided they'd ask Hermione about it once she returned to Hogwarts. In the meantime, Ron pocketed the pieces for later.

Finally, the boys found the old chess set and brought it up to play. When they opened it, they found yet another set of hand carved wooden soldiers. These were not like the Medieval themed set Harry had received days before, these soldiers looked like they came from the Auror division of the Ministry. Divided into dark and light wood, they were all dressed in uniforms embroidered with family crests worn on their backs. All the pawns carried a familiar crest with the S of Steward delicately stitched into the fabric of their jackets. The bishops wore capes over their Auror uniforms, and embroidered into the back of their robes was the mirrored crest of Waverly. There were soldiers bearing what looked like Muggle firearms up in the rook towers, though Harry and Ron didn't recognize the star-like orange and purple emblem that they wore. The knights bore a crest similar to the Waverlys, but branches overflowing with red maple leaves sprouted from both sides of a white and gold shield.

These soldiers seemed to take a liking to Ron once they blinked and came to life, as if they could sense who was an experienced and capable leader.

"Wow DUUUUDE! Thats' a cool set!" Alfred practically yelled through a mouthful of cookies when he saw Harry and Ron setting up.

"OH. MY. GOSH, i need to have a lookit these guys!" he cried as he ogled at the tiny soldiers who were just patting the dust off their own uniforms.

"Those are Stewards and Waverlys!" He pointed excitedly at the pawns and bishops. The bishops gave a salute to the rowdy American. The pawns scowled at him and one even scolded him for talking with his mouth full. He swallowed the cookies then carefully picked up a knight who was busy adjusting the saddle on his animal. "This is the William's crest!" he exclaimed, "oh and of course the knight is riding a friggin' POLAR BEAR instead of a horse!" The polar bear chewed lightly on his finger. "Hehe, you're cute." he sneered at the tiny bear and he set the knight back down on the board and picked up a rook.

"And wow, a Takehiko for a rook, They even have a tiny little sniper rifle! Wait a minute..." Alfred examined the whole board again. "Stewards, Waverly, Williams, even Takehiko...WHERE'S JONES?!"

Patrick walked by and on his way to the kitchen, he snatched a king piece from the board and placed it in Alfred's hand. "No wonder you need glasses, lad." he teased.

"NO WAAAAY!" Alfred yelped, this time loud enough to interrupt Alistair and Arthur's jam session.

"ALFRED!" the two brothers yelled.

"But look! the King is wearing a MACUSA Auror robe!" he exclaimed. He stuffed his face with cookies as he admired the handiwork on the four largest pieces. Each of the King and Queen pieces sported crests that Alfred recognized as the Ministries of Magic of America, Britain, France and China.

"Wow i can't believe Ollie made all this."

"Ollie? Who's Ollie?" Harry asked, he'd never heard of anyone named 'Ollie' before.

Harry could hear Arthur had made a few mistakes on the piano and Alfred nearly choked on his cookies. He ran quickly to the kitchen and returned, guzzling down a carton of eggnog to clear his throat, "Ollie? Oh you must've misheard me, I meant Artie, obviously." Alfred laughed obnoxiously, "Come on, lets play!"

Even with Alfred's help, the wooden Aurors acted reluctant to follow Harry's amateurish command and he suffered yet another glorious defeat at Ron's hand.

Before long, it was dinner time and Matthew magically finished the dinner he had been readying that afternoon. With some some help from Alistair and Patrick and a few careful waves of their wands, they sent the prepared ingredients flying through the air. Steamed tomatoes and carrots and beans seasoned themselves in midair while a roasted turkey floated above their heads. The aroma of stuffing and fresh bread filled the room as the ingredients gathered themselves into the bowls and plates that Arthur and Dylan set at the table. By the time the spell was complete, there was a feast of French and Scottish style cuisine. Arthur and Alfred couldn't be trusted to make palatable food, but Matthew was certainly dependable. They all enjoyed and had their fill of steamed vegetables and French bread and honey glazed turkey and cured ham and poutine drowned in gravy.

When dinner was done, it was Alfred and Patrick's turn to do dishes. Alfred started carrying piles of used plates to the kitchen while Patrick cleaned them with magic. Meanwhile, everyone else gathered in the great room once again, the time in front of a computer set that Connor was just finishing up.

"I think I finally got it to work!" Connor exclaimed.

"What is that?!" Ron gasped at the thing Connor had fussed nearly all afternoon over. To Ron it looked like a strangely shaped large grey box attached to a similar grey plank, dotted with the whole alphabet and numbers. A small round object sat nearby. They all sat on the table on top of some sort of large piece of parchment with a black circle drawn onto it. The circle had intricate and geometric designs trailing along its circumference and swirling within it. It seemed magical somehow but Ron didn't know what any of it was. One side of the large grey box glowed with the scene of a city landscape. There were small icons all over the city, but he couldn't tell what any of them were.

"It's one of the things Muggles use to communicate." Connor explained. "The magic in this area tends to mess with it, but I think I finally have it working." Ron watched as Connor moved the round object about the tabletop, unsure of what he was doing, but suddenly the city landscape changed to a white screen with the words 'Skype' in the middle.

Connor 's fingers moved across the plank with the alphabet, almost like piano keys and soon, a ringing started emanating from the whole thing.

"What's happening?" Ron asked.

"Who are you calling?" Harry asked.

A face appeared inside the box, and Harry immediately recognized one of his dad's colleagues from work.

"Mr. Kølher!" Harry waved, delighted.

"Merry Christmas, Kirkland family!" Mathias Køhler greeted. He was wearing a red and white Santa hat and a wide smile across his face. He moved aside to reveal three more men behind him who also waved their own greetings. The Kirkland brothers, Alfred and Matthew and Patrick also offered holiday cheer to the grey box. Ron finally understood what this was.

"It's like the Floo network!" Ron blurted.

"Have you never seen a computer before, kid?" Mathias laughed from inside the box.

"He's a wizard, he doesn't know about Muggle things," Alfred said simply.

"Oh, so you're one of Harry's friends, aren't you? Oh! Let me call Peter! He's already sent you a few postcards, why don't you two finally meet?" Mathias turned toward one side of the computer screen and called Peter's name a few times. He scolded Peter and an 'Emil' off screen for playing too many video games and soon started yelling in Danish instead of English. Mathias' voice started to crackle and the screen started to fizz.

Just as a blond boy with a blue sailor's outfit came into view and greeted Harry, the screen started to lag.

"Hi Harry! I'm Peter! Did you like the candies I sent with Arthur?" Was all he managed to get out before the screen froze and didn't start again.

"Oh come on! It was going so well!" Connor lamented over the computer. Alistair looked out the window and grumbled.

"Looks like a storm might be rolling in," he said. The sky outside was a deep shade of blue, and the wind was already rattling the panes. "I think it's time to bring the boys back to Hogwarts."

Harry pouted but Arthur ruffled his raven locks playfully.

"I'll still be here tomorrow, love. Come by tomorrow, and I'll show you around Hogsmeade." Arthur said. Harry's face warmed up as he looked forward to the next day. After a tight hug and a kiss on the forehead, Harry was sent on his way. He and Ron put on their heavy robes and headed back to Hogwarts with Alistair leading the way.

When they got back in their dorm, Ron jumped into his bed, tired from the day's outing, but well satisfied. "Oh that was fun, your family's great!" Ron rolled over in his bed to look over at Harry.

"Yep! I'd love to meet the rest of yours some day too!" Harry smiled as he sat on his bed and pulled the covers over himself. As the sheets shifted, something silvery fell off the bed and onto the floor.

"Hold on, what's this?" Harry glanced sideways at the glittering grey pool that had slithered to the floor. He picked up the object that turned out to be a sheet of fabric, though it was as light as air and felt as if water was woven into its fibers.

"If-if that's what I think it is, it's very rare, and very valuable!" Ron's eyes went as wide as saucers as he explained in a hushed voice. Harry wrapped the fabric around himself to look in the mirror, but he was shocked to see he was just a floating head!

"It is! It is!" Ron gasped with a look of awe dazzling in his eyes, "it's an Invisibility Cloak!"

"Invisibility Cloak?!" Harry repeated. He lifted the cloak over his head and twirled around on the spot. He didn't even see a shimmer of the fabric in the mirror, it was as if there was no trace of him at all.

"Harry, a note fell out! There's a note!"

Harry peeked up from out of the cloak and reached for a small piece of parchment that had fluttered to the floor. Upon the ivory piece of parchment was some narrow, loopy writing he'd never seen before:

Your father left this in my possession before he died.

It is time it is returned to you.

Use it well.

There was no signature. Harry stared at the note, entranced by the looping lines of ink while Ron admired the cloak. Had this really belonged to his father? Not Arthur, but to James? And what did the note mean by use it well? His mind was racing. With this, the whole castle of Hogwarts would be open to him. And he thought back to the Restricted Section in the library. He would be able to read to his heart's content, unseen, and Madame Pince and Filch will never know!

"Ron! I think we can find Nicolas Flamel with this! Let's see that homework you got from Hogsmeade!" Harry said, almost unable to contain his excitement.

Ron nodded and picked the parchment pages from his pockets. They were badly burned and the boys could only make out a few words, but it soon became obvious that this wasn't actually part of some upper year's homework assignment. In a clear and looping script, a letter read:

...Dear Elizabeth and Oliver...

... ...

... condolences...you're desperate...

... ...

...tragedy what happened to Alice and...

...

... ...but I cannot in good conscious...

...will not allow the Stone...

...

...Oliver...your

studies...

... ...necromancy...

...

...not what the Stone is meant for...

... ...

...deepest condolences...

...

...

At the bottom of the blackened page, Ron could make out a signature, 'Nicolas Flamel'.

"Nicolas Flamel wrote a letter to...who are these people?" Harry asked out loud after he read what he could of the letter.

Ron's face had gone pale, his hand clasped against his mouth as he read the name of one of the addressees. "Oliver is the name of one of You-Know-Who's worst Death Eaters Harry!"

But Harry was already trying to decipher the rest of Nicolas Flamel's letter. The Stone. What's the Stone? Harry thought back to the tiny package from Vault 713 that Fluffy was now guarding. One of You-Know-Who's Death Eaters must have tried to take that package before, whatever it was. Now Snape was too! Harry had to know what Fluffy was guarding.

Harry's eyes lingered over the word necromancy in Nicolas Flamel's letter. He knew he'd seen it before, in Hermione's list of subjects she wanted to search because it might have been relevant to Nicolas Flamel. Hermione had not made it that far down her list though, so Harry decided he'd do it for her.

Harry told Ron his plan, that he'd use the Invisibility Cloak to find Nicolas Flamel in the library. Ron liked Harry's plan, but filled with his Christmas dinner he didn't really feel fond of any more reading that night.

So while Ron drifted off to sleep, Harry drifted through the empty Hogwarts halls, completely unseen. He wandered into the library, finally free to pursue Nicolas Flamel in the Restricted Section and peruse the books at he leisure. Harry took a lamp from the front of the library and lit it, and used it to light his way to the back of the library. It looked like the lamp was floating in midair, without seeing his arm supporting it.

But even with the lamp, it was hard to read the titles of the books. Many of the golden letters on the leather bound spines were peeling or fading. Some were written in languages he didn't understand or written in runes that he could hardly decipher, much less now that he was in the dark.

One book had a stain that he hoped only looked like blood and avoided it. He swore he could hear whispers coming from the books, as if they could tell someone was in there that shouldn't be.

He finally came across a book with faded letters that spelled 'Necronomicon Ex-Mortis'. He figured this was close enough. He set his lamp on the floor and picked the book off the shelf. When Harry opened it, a horrid face with a wide gaping mouth greeted him. It warped the pages and let out a piercing, blood curdling scream. It split the silence of the library, it even blew the light out of his lamp. The book was screaming! Startled, Harry dropped the book. With a loud thud the book closed, but the muffled screaming continued. He stuffed the book back on the shelf. Another voice cut through the dark.

"Where are you? I know you're in here!" Filch was at the front of the library, with a lamp of his own, hunched over and lit only halfway, he looked like a goul. "Who is it? Show yourself!" He rasped.

Harry was hidden safely under the Invisibility Cloak and wasn't planning on coming out any time soon. He slowly crept his way down the aisle as Filch began looking through the other shelves for him. Harry made his way out of the library to see Mrs. Norris blocked his path back to Gryffindor Tower. Could cats see through Invisibility Cloaks? He didn't really want to find out. Mrs. Norris mewed so Harry went down the hall in the opposite direction, he'd find another way to Gryffindor Tower.

He turned the corner and to his horror he saw Professors Snape and Quirrel! Snape had grabbed Quirrel's robe by the neck and held him up against the wall. "Severus, I-I"

"You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrel." Snape sneered.

"I don't know what you mean!" Quirrel stuttered, he was shaking under Snape's grasp.

"You know perfectly well what I mean."

Harry tried to sneak past them under the cloak. Snape slowly turned away from Quirrel and Inn Harry's direction. He stretched one arm out as if to grab at something that wasn't there. Harry covered his mouth with his hand to quell his anxious breathing and slowly backed away and out of Snape's reach. Snape nearly brushed Harry's nose but he grabbed nothing but air. Snape peered down at his own hand as if it had betrayed him. He turned back to Quirrel in anger, which allowed Harry to sneak behind a door that stood ajar. Safely in the room, Harry eavesdropped on the rest of Snape and Quirrel's conversation.

"We'll have another chat soon," Snape crooned, "once you've had time to decide where your loyalties lie."

Filch came running down the hall, carrying Harry's burnt out lamp in his hand.

"Professors! I found this in the Restricted Section. It's still hot, which means a student is out of bed!"

Snape abandoned Quirrel's robes and they both followed Filch down the other hall. Harry took off the Invisibility Cloak to breathe easier. He let out a sigh of relief, a breath he didn't realize he was holding, and sat on one of the desks in the room. He was in some sort of unused classroom. There were desks and chairs and bookshelves, just like in any of the other classrooms he'd been in. But there was something else in the room that felt like it didn't belong, and it wasn't him.

On the middle of the room was a magnificent mirror. It had an ornate frame of guided gold and stood on two clawed feet. The mirror stood almost as tall as the ceiling and bore the inscription Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi. Desks and chairs had been shoved towards the walls to give it some space.

Harry felt drawn to the mirror and slowly stepped towards it. With every step he took, two shapes started to form on either side of him, until they finally took the form of two familiar people, and simply smiled at him.

He looked behind him but the room was still empty. He gazed back into the mirror, and the two figures were still there, close beside him.

On his left, a woman with long and wavy auburn hair set her hand upon the shoulder of Harry's reflection. Harry felt at his own shoulder but saw and felt nothing except the fabric of his sweater. On his right was a tall man with dark hair and glasses. Harry met his eyes, and smiled.

"Mom? Dad?" Harry asked.

His mother and father didn't say a word, but simply smiled and nodded. Harry reached out to touch them but only met the cold glass surface of the mirror. His fingers lingered there for a while, his parents, or at least their spirits? Echoes? Maybe their ghosts, they were just on the other side of the glass.

Harry looked into his mother's eyes, her bright green irises smiled at him, Harry had he eyes. He wanted to remain there, with his parents for the rest of the night, but he knew he couldn't stay very long. He glanced at his wristwatch, the one Uncle Alistair gave him. Maybe just a few more minutes, then he'd head back.

Harry was standing so close to the mirror that his nose was nearly touching it, how he longed to be with his parents on the other side.

"I'll come back," he whispered. His parents merely waved as if to say 'we'll be here.' Harry draped the Invisibility Cloak over himself once again and headed back to Gryffindor Tower.

"Ron! Ron wake up quick you've got to see this!" Harry bounded into the dorm and pulled Ron's sheets off his bed.

Ron rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he slowly sat up in bed. "What's happening?"

"Ron come on! Get out of bed, you've really got to see this." Harry pulled Ron from the bed and draped the both of them under the cloak. Like ghosts they hurtled down the halls under the cloak until Harry led them to the unused room that housed the magic mirror.

"Come on, you've got to see this, look look look! It's my parents!" Harry said excitedly. They shed the Invisibility Cloak and left it on one of the desks.

Harry and Ron stood in front of the mirror and his parents looked excited to see him again.

"See? Ron look! This is my mom and dad," Harry pointed each of the out and they waved at Ron when Harry called them in turn.

"What do you mean? I only see us." Ron said sadly.

"What?!" Harry gasped. Harry shoved Ron right in front of the mirror and stood aside. "Can't you see, it's-"

"It's me! Harry, I'm Head Boy!" Ron exclaimed. "I'm holding the House Cup...and bloody hell, I'm Quidditch captain too!" Ron admired himself in the mirror and stroked his chin, as if his reflection had a nice amount of stubble there too. "I look good. Harry, do you think this mirror shows the future?"

"How can it?" Harry said sadly, "both my parents are dead...let me have another look."

"Wait, I think I'm a Prefect too, I've got a badge just like Percy, give me some more time-"

"You're just holding the House Cup, what's so special about that? I want to see my parents."

"Don't shove me."

A sudden loud noise in the hall cut their discussion short. They hid under the Invisibility Cloak and covered themselves just in time. Mrs. Norris sauntered into the room. Harry and Ron held their breaths for a long while, unsure whether the cloak worked on cats too. Mrs. Norris finally left, and the boys decided they should also make their leave.

"It's not safe, she probably heard us and went to go tell Filch, come on," Ron had to pull Harry away from the mirror once again.

At breakfast the next day, Harry and Ron talked about what they saw.

"I still want to see your parents," Ron said quietly through a mouthful of eggs.

"...Arthur has a photo of then in our house. That's the only copy though. Arthur said there wasn't much left of their house after...you know." Harry said. He'd hardly touched his food. "I'd like see your family too..."

"You can see my family any time. Just come by my house this summer. Anyway, maybe the mirror only shows dead people. Too bad about not finding more about Nicolas Flamel."

Harry had almost forgotten about Nicolas Flamel, his mind was still fixed on the image in the Mirror.

In fact, the mirror was all Harry could think about that day. He felt himself counting down the hours until he could sit in front of that mirror again. Even when he and Ron went to Hogsmeade with Arthur and his uncles that day, his mind kept wandering back to the mirror that showed him the rest of his family. He felt a bit guilty, all the sweets and toys Arthur bought and piled into Harry's arms when they visited Honeydukes and Zonko's were wonderful, but they all seemed to pale in comparison to what waited for him back in that unused room in Hogwarts. When Arthur gave him hugs and kisses throughout the day, Harry found himself wondering what it would feel like, if Arthur's hair was darker.

And Arthur must have noticed, because between sips of a warm Butterbeer, Arthur asked, "Are you alright, Harry?"

"What?" Harry was snapped out of his thoughts. He wasn't in the unused classroom right now, he was in a restaurant called the Three Broomsticks with Arthur. He could hear Uncle Alistair and Uncle Patrick's laughter over the din of the restaurant. They were seated at another table with Matthew and Dylan and Connor, each with a hot mug of steaming coco or Butterbeer and a large plate of scones shared between them. Alfred was at the front with Fred, George and Ron, with their faces pressed against a display case, unable to choose which of the pastries or cookies they wanted to try. Harry sat in front of Arthur, with a cup of hot coco and a croissant filled with berry jam he didn't remember ordering. In the seat beside him were several colourful bags filled with all the things Arthur had bought him that day.

"I said, it's okay if you're sad, I'm going to miss you too," Arthur said, continuing a conversation Harry didn't know he was having. "I know I'm leaving tomorrow and we won't see each other again for another few months, but I'll always send you letters and postcards." Arthur said. He smiled at Harry, much like his father in the mirror but they were completely different. Where his father had black hair and brown eyes, Arthur was blond with green. Green like his mother, or like himself.

"Come on Harry, finish your hot coco, I'll show you a good place for tobogganing " Arthur took a few more big gulps of his Butterbeer, the sweet foam stuck to his nose. He happily picked it off with his finger and licked it off with hip lips. Arthur looked out the window to the streets of Hogsmeade where everything was blanketed in some fresh powdery snow. Something in Harry's face must have shown that he wasn't exactly interested in tobogganing, just being in front of that mirror, because Arthur turned back to Harry and asked again, "Are you really alright, Harry? Is there something bothering you? You've been kind of distant all day."

That pang of guilt made a knot in his chest again, and Harry could feel his cheeks redden. He couldn't really tell Arthur the truth, could he? "I think...I'm a little homesick," Harry offered a half truth.

A smile crept onto Arthur's face, and he laughed quietly to himself. "That's perfectly fine, Harry," Arthur said, "I know what it's like to away from home for a long time."

Now it was Harry's turn to giggle to himself. If Harry had a Galleon for every time Arthur went away on a business trip, he'd have enough to make even Malfoy jealous. "But you know, the nice thing about having a home is you can always go back to it. No matter how far you go, or how long you're away, it's still there. In fact, I remember when traveling didn't just take hours or a few days. It would take weeks, months, just to get to where you wanted to go. But I knew that when I was done my work, I would be back home in London. The city has a special place in my heart. The people in it to." he said

"What does that mean?" Harry asked.

"I mean," he paused, and thought of a way to express his complex feelings into coherent words. "You can bring the people and places you hold dear with you when you're away, if you keep them in your heart," Arthur reached over the table and tapped a finger to Harry's chest, where Harry suddenly felt warm butterflies fluttering, undoing the knot from earlier, "they will always be with you. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, it kind of does," Harry said happily.

"That's good to hear." Arthur said. "Is there anything I can do to make you feel better? I could send you something from home if you're missing it."

Harry thought of the photo that sat on their mantle back home. The one photo of his birth parents that Harry owned. "I'd like that photo of my parents, if I could have just one piece of home, I'd like that, if that's not too much trouble for you."

"The photo of Cousin Lily and James? That not a problem at all, Harry. I've got a photocopier in my office, I can send you a copy once I get back to London. In fact, I'll try and have one of my colleagues sent it to me tonight. I might have it for you ready by tomorrow." Arthur said, his eyes crinkled with cheer. Harry returned the smile.

But even if Arthur could get him the copy of the photo by the next day, he still had a craving that couldn't be satisfied unless he visited the mirror again that night.

So even when Harry and Ron headed back to Hogwarts that evening, Harry was just itching for Ron to go to sleep. Both the boys were stubborn in their own right.

"Do you want to play chess, Harry?" Ron asked.

"No."

"What about having dessert with Hagrid?"

"No...you can go..."

"Let's try and get some reading in the library done. There's still some time before curfew, maybe we can find Nicolas Flamel." Ron seemed just as determined as Harry to stay up late.

"Um...no..."

"I know what you're think about Harry, that mirror. Don't go back tonight." He said, a slight tinge of anger coloured his voice.

"Why not?"

"I dunno, I've just got a bad feeling about that mirror. Besides, Arthur's going to get you that photo tomorrow! You don't need to risk getting caught by Filch or Snape or Mrs. Norris again. So what if you're invisible, you might knock something over, they might bump into you."

"You sound like Hermione." Harry whined.

"I'm serious Harry, don't go." Ron crossed his arms, "But if you won't listen to me, fine. Go. Someone's going to catch you." and he left Harry alone in the Common Room. But Harry was still determined to visit the mirror, and nobody, not even Ron was going to stop him.

So when he found the mirror again, and saw his mother and father smiling and waving at him, he simply nodded happily and sat down on the floor in front of the mirror. He could stay up all night if he wanted. An he planned to do just that.

"So-back again, Harry?"

The voice behind him sent ice through his veins. He looked behind him and saw Dumbledore himself, sitting quietly on one of the desks. Harry didn't even notice him, He'd been too desperate to see the mirror. Harry got up quickly and stepped away from the mirror.

"I see, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised." Dumbledore said. He slipped off the desk and took a slow gait towards Harry. "I expect you realize what it does? I'll give you a hint." Dumbledore stood in front of the mirror and gazed into its glass. "The happiest man on earth will look into this mirror and see himself, exactly as he is."

Harry turned the clue over in his head, and then he said, "So, it shows us what we want, anything we want."

"Yes... and no," Dumbledore said, "It shows us the deepest and most desperate desires of our hearts. You see your birth parents, don't you, Harry?"

"How did you know?"

"You never known your family, your real family Harry. The Kirklands are nice and I assume they are well meaning, but Arthur can never truly replace your mother and father, can he? You're desperate to find a connection to them, anything to bring you closer to them, so you see Lily and James standing beside you."

Harry felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment, was he really that predictable?

"But Harry, the Mirror does not give us knowledge, or truth. Many witches and wizards have wasted away before it, even gone mad."

Harry thought about the way he had been behaving that day. Maybe Ron was right about the mirror.

"That's why tomorrow, it will go to a new home. Harry, I ask you not to go looking for it again. It doesn't do well to dwell on dreams, Harry, lest you forget to live."

Harry nodded to show he understood, and Dumbledore sent him off to bed.

The next day, after Ron and Harry had seen Arthur and the rest of his family off and back to London, Ron offered to play another game of chess. Harry gladly obliged, he wouldn't be visiting the mirror again, he'd rather spend time with the people who were with him here and now instead of loosing sleep over the ghosts of his past.

Harry didn't really need the mirror anymore anyway. That afternoon, Hedwig arrived with an envelope attached to her leg.

A small letter read:

Your dad actually told me to break into your house just to get you this.

The man's crazy but he'd really do anything for you.

Happy Holidays from everyone at Atlas.

~Det. Bordeaux

Harry felt Arthur's co-worker didn't mean any ill will, but it still showed his dedication. Harry smiled at the letter, even Arthur's colleagues knew what Harry meant to him.

Inside the envelope was a copy of the photo Harry had requested. His parents smiled at him from photo, just as they had when they were behind the mirror.

"That's your mum and dad?" Ron looked over Harry's shoulder in delight.

"They're my birth parents." Harry said. It was a small gesture, but Harry appreciated this Christmas gift from Arthur more than any other the other things he'd bought him the other day.

"Arthur is my dad."

A/N

* Just like Brian May ; )