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CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTEEN

-: fifth year :-

── IN WHICH CHRISTMAS ARRIVES

. . .


Harry hadn't looked quite so relaxed since coming to Grimmauld Place as he did the moment that it became truly apparent that he wasn't being possessed by Voldemort; that there was no way that he could be according to Ginny's own expertise and - as another moment of true relief -came - there was no feasible, even magically possible, way for him to have been in the corridor by the door Mr Weasley was guarding when the snake attacked.

He had paced up and down the room as he considered it, as the words shared from his friends and girlfriend (whose assurances meant more to him than any others) comforted him. They made sense, it all made sense when he truly thought about it. As further mentions of reasons why it couldn't possibly be, Harry's pacing stopped and he came to sit beside Jane, who smiled as she handed over the sandwiches.

Since then, he had slowly intergrated back into the life of Grimmauld Place. Since he had experienced Sirius's infectious happiness at having the house filled for the holidays he too had been slipping into the catchy tunes of the favoured wizarding carols - Jane particularly enjoyed the loud, slightly Firewhiskey-enduced, rendition of 'God Rest Ye Merry, Hippogriff' that Sirius came out with that she, Fred, George and Harry eventually joined on the night of Christmas Eve, they too slipping in a little drink to heighten the mood.

Together - meaning all of them, including Harry - they had been working tirelessly to ensure that the house was fully decorated for the season and by the time the small celebratory party on the Eve had rolled around, the house was barely recognisable. With the help of magic and a little proper help from the teenagers, it was covered head to toe in red, white  and green. Thetarnished chandeliers were no longer hung with cobwebs butwith garlands of holly and gold and silver streamers; magicalsnow glittered in heaps over the threadbare carpets; a greatChristmas tree, obtained by Mundungus and decorated withlive fairies, blocked Sirius's family tree from view; and even thestuffed elf heads on the hall wall wore Father Christmas hatsand beards.

When Jane awoke on Christmas morning, a little hungover from the night before (Mrs Weasley might actively try and restrict the drinking in her household but would ultimately fail because after the rendition of Christmas carols they may or may not have holed up in Jane's room with another bottle and a silencing charm), her first instinct was to adjust her fluffy socks and find her slippers and, with the stocking and pile of larrger presents that she had found on the end of her bed, placing there by Flora after finding out about the tradition, and make her way down to Harry and Ron's room.

"Morning, boys." She smiled, after having heard a 'come in', and she carted the stocking and smaller pile of presents. 

"Why the bloody hell are you walking around with a troll's sock?" Ron asked, before purposefully averting his eyes and gagging as Jane leant down to press a kiss to Harry's lips - knowing she couldn't get away with too much on account of the Weasley's disgust. She settled beside her boyfriend and stuck her tongue out when Ron looked over.

"It's not a sock, it's a stocking, and it's a muggle thing." Jane informed him. "Although this is far bigger than any one I've ever seen before... maybe this is a troll's sock." 

"Mundungus could probably have sourced one." Harry hummed, as though that could be any level of reassurance. "Dudley would have a field day seeing that."

"...Shut up." Jane grumbled at the comparison, but she felt the squeeze of his arm around her waist that reassured her that she was nothing like his spoilt pig of a cousin.

After that, they descended into present-filled madness. Jane couldn't count the amount of books she had recieved on two hands, the pile almost as tall as her by the time she was done with it, as well as a number of magical items that she hardly knew the purpose of and would have to have explained to her - specifically the presents from varied members of the Order she had gotten to know, the Weasleys, Sirius and Remus. Flora had contributed in books, gift certificates and rolls of fabric, Angela had sent over a magical cookbook and a photo album of Clementine and Treacle as they annoyed the workers inside the house and Harry, well, he had done considerably well, to say the least. 

There was a folded Gryffindor scarf on top of it all, the embroidered patch on the bottom gleaming back at her. Joined with it was a number of rings he had found in a small shop in Hogsmeade, and a bracelet with a tiny lightning bolt on (Ron, again, had groaned when Jane pressed a kiss to Harry's slightly pink cheek), as well as a number of perfumes in potions bottles, which looked as though they had ingredients within. 

Hermione had joined them eventually, ignoring the complaints that came from her chosen present of a homework planner for each of them - something that Jane agreed that would be useful come exam time - and as they settled in to waiting for the others to wake up, there was a brief knock on the door and Sirius appeared, a purple velvet blazer over his scarlet coloured pajamas. 

"Jane Everleigh, you a bloody brilliant." He announced, a grin on his face.  

And Harry didn't know why he had ever tried to run away from there.



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