𝐀𝐈𝐌 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐘┊ᴴᵃʳʳʸ ᴾᵒᵗᵗᵉʳ

46 ✥ 𝚁𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙽𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚎

࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊°

❝ Why are you using this ghostly voice of yours? ❞

࿔₊° ࿔₊° ࿔₊°

𝕮HRISTMAS 𝕾PIRIT 𝖂AS thin on the ground in the Gryffindor common room that morning. Hermione had shut Crookshanks in her dormitory, but was furious with Ron for trying to kick him; Ron was still fuming about Crookshanks's fresh attempt to eat Scabbers.

Harry gave up trying to make them talk to each other and devoted himself to examining the Firebolt. He had brought it down to the common room with him. He was also wearing the brand-new sports shoes that Crystal presented to him as soon as her parcel arrived.

For some reason his fascination with the Firebolt seemed to annoy Hermione; she didn't say anything, but she kept looking at the broom as though it too had been criticizing her cat.

Hermione threw a paper ball at Crystal and caught her attention successfully. She signalled Crystal with her eyes to go talk to Harry about the broom but Crystal raised her both hands in surrender and went back to sign some papers she was reading earlier. She didn't want to have any discord between her and Harry again after their fight. Hermione huffed and glared darkly at the broom again.

At lunchtime, they went down to the Great Hall to find that the House tables had been moved against the walls again and a single table, set for twelve, stood in the middle of the room.

Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, and Flitwick were there, along with Filch, the caretaker, who had taken off his usual brown coat and was wearing a very old and rather moldy-looking tailcoat. There were only two other students, one extremely nervous-looking first year and a sullen-faced Slytherin fifth year.

"Happy Christmas!" said Dumbledore as Crystal, Harry, Ron, and Hermione approached the table. "As there are so few of us, it seemed foolish to use the House tables. . . Sit down, sit down!"

Crystal, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat side by side at the end of the table.

"Crackers!" said Dumbledore enthusiastically, offering the end of a large silver noisemaker to Snape, who took it reluctantly and tugged. With a bang like a gunshot, the cracker flew apart to reveal a large, pointed witch's hat topped with a stuffed vulture.

Harry, remembering the boggart, caught Ron's eye and they both grinned; Crystal snorted but covered up, excusing herself as she pretended to clear her throat, the teachers stared at her and some smiled; Snape's mouth thinned and he pushed the hat toward Dumbledore, who swapped it for his wizard's hat at once.

"Dig in!" he advised the table, beaming around.

As Harry was helping himself to roast potatoes, the doors of the Great Hall opened again. It was Professor Trelawney, gliding toward them as though on wheels. She had put on a green sequined dress in honor of the occasion, making her look more than ever like a glittering, oversized dragonfly.

"Sibyll, this is a pleasant surprise!" said Dumbledore, standing up.

"I have been crystal gazing, Headmaster," said Professor Trelawney in her mistiest, most faraway voice, "and to my astonishment, I saw myself abandoning my solitary luncheon and coming to join you. Who am I to refuse the promptings of fate? I at once hastened from my tower, and I do beg you to forgive my lateness. . . "

"Certainly, certainly," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "Let me draw you up a chair —"

And he did indeed draw a chair in midair with his wand, which revolved for a few seconds before falling with a thud between Professors Snape and McGonagall. Professor Trelawney, however, did not sit down; her enormous eyes had been roving around the table, and she suddenly uttered a kind of soft scream.