The Girl Who Hid | ✓

|25| Christmas

The four of us said nothing as we made our way back to the castle; Harry through his secret passageway and Ron, Hermione, and I walked the path back. Ron nor Hermione brought up the fact that they said my name for it wasn't a very common one. And all through dinner, none of us spoke about what we'd overheard.

When we went upstairs to the crowded common room, it was to find Fred and George had set off half a dozen Dungbombs in a fit of end-of-term high spirits. Harry snuck quietly up to his dormitory before I could ask him anything. Hermione and Ron argued about the littlest things until Harry came back and asked to speak to me again.

"And you okay?" he asked me.

"I should be asking you that," I smiled sadly.

Form behind his back, he pulled out a leather-bound photo album. Beckoning me to sit with him, he opened it and showed me; I stared in awe at the pictures before me. The album was full of pictures of the people I saw in the mirror two years ago— they are my parents.

"Harry is this..." my eyes glistened with tears. Besides the mirror, I had never seen a picture of them before.

"This is our Mum and Dad," he whispered. He flipped to another page where there was a photo of our parents with two newborn babies in their hands. "I saw this photo when I first got this and didn't know who the other baby was. I thought it might have been a friend or something, but now, I know it's you."

I gingerly touch the photo, longing to be held the way my mum was holding me.

Harry turned the page again and seemed to be searching for something. He stopped on a picture of our parents' wedding day. There was our father waving up at us, beaming, the same untidy black hair Harry has stood up in all directions. There was our mother, alight with happiness, looking identical to me with pristine auburn hair. I reached up to my hair and stroke it, a tear falling down my face. She was arm in arm with our dad. And there... next to them... that must be him. Their best man...

Harry slammed the album shut, causing me to jump. Instead of talking, Harry stuffed the album into his robes and frowned at me. I quickly wiped my face, trying to get rid of any evidence of me crying as footsteps neared. Spinning around, I saw the culprits– Ron and Hermione.

"Harry?" said Ron's voice uncertainly. "Maisey, have you been crying?"

"Uh, it's alright," I smiled, wiping my face again.

"I- I'm sure it wasn't you, Hagrid was talking about," Hermione said shyly.

More tears flowed from my eyes and I looked at Harry. He shook his head.

"Yeah, you're right, it's not that— I'm just— I reckon we go to bed, I'm tired," I whispered and left for my room.

Waking up the next morning was harder than usual, especially when it's almost lunchtime when I rose.

"Maisey, you— you look terrible."

"Thank you," I scoffed as I made it down the stairs. Ron was eating a Peppermint Toad while Hermione was sitting with her homework spread over three tables. "Where's Harry?"

"Right here," a voice says from next to me. Peering over the railing, I see Harry coming down the spiral staircase as well.

"Oh! You look horrible, too."

"You guys are so kind, I love being your friends," I narrowed my eyes at them and curl up in one of the empty chairs. Snow was still falling outside the windows. Crookshanks and Gydion were both spread out in front of the fire like a large, ginger rug.

"Where is everyone?" asked Harry.

"Gone! It's the first day of the holidays, remember?" said Ron, watching Harry closely. "It's nearly lunchtime; I was going to come and wake you up in a minute."