Christmas, Part I

Fog hoovers through my head as my eyelids protest at having to do work. A few more minutes! I mentally scream at the hive of thoughts slowly increasing its buzz. Rolling over to my side, an object stops me from curling completely. Intrigue pushes my eyelids back in working order.

It takes a few moments before my brain registers Cimsy, snuggled up with me. I don't remember her coming in last night. The small amount of light from the rising sun bounces off the frigid, tranquil untouched, white snow and invades the corners of the lofted area. I put my years of avoiding the wrath of a tired Father to use. Alas, it doesn't seem that my Father is that light of a sleeper.

"Miss?" Cimsy asks, voice slurry from sleep, just as confused as I am.

'More nightmares?' I ask as she kneels on my bead, rubbing one eye and half covered under a blanket, as I get out of bed.

My question seems to take a moment to make its way through her mind. I know immediately when my question gets through as her face, as readable as ever, lights up like a Christmas tree.

"Hap- Happ- Happy-," her excitement overwhelms her ability to speak as she trips on the blanket wrapped around.

'Merry Christmas to you too,' amusement pushes a smile out as I grab clothes out of the trunk pushed at the foot of my bed. Setting them atop my trunk, I noticed garland laid atop of it.

Although curiosity permeates my mind, it doesn't overpower the need to block the freezing floor with fuzzy socks.

This wasn't here last night. Looking around, I spot more garland decorating the tops of the bookshelves on the top floor, a small tree beside the sitting chair at the window, and a wreath hung on the bathroom door.

Looking over the handrail the room seemed to have gone through a Christmas filter, garland on almost everything, a tree poking some of the books in the corner, and another wreath over the roaring fireplace.

"Cimsy, Cims-," her voice trails off as she struggles to untangle herself from the blanket. I stand there in warm bliss as she finally gives up and Apparate's slightly to the side, "Cimsy appreciates all the Miss has done for Cimsy. Cimsy wanted to decorate Miss Catlyn's room to show Miss Catlyn Cimsy's happiness. Cimsy even brought Miss Catlyn's presents here."

Cimsy massive eyes, filled to the brim with joy, stare into mine as she bobs up and down. I don't have the heart to tell her I'm not religious, 'Thank you Cimsy, I love it.'

Cimsy, vibrating as if she's about to explode, lanches at me. I thank my vampiric strength as she dangles by my neck about a foot and a half off the ground. Patting her head, dealing with Maxi comes in handy as I get her off me. Wait, Cimsy said presents, plural? As in, multiple? Childlike excitement and curiosity fuel me as I vault over the railing and thank my luck that my landing was clear.

Dashing over to the corner, I look under the tree to find a few wrapped presents and envelopes. Father~! How many times have I told you not to send me mult- hold on? My mental rant went on as I went closer to them until I saw that the boxes had for/from tags. Why would dad send presents with for/from tags?

Crouching, I flipped them over to find that it said, "From Cedric/Anne. To Catlyn"

For a solid minute, I just sat there. Emotion, both negative and positive, swirled in me like a vortex. Thoughts jumbled together but never formed coherently.

"Miss Catlyn?" Cimsys concerned expression unfroze my mind but not the vortex swimming within me. Touching my cheek, I look at my hand to find tears. I'm crying?

The soft glow from the candles and fireplace outlined us both as the Castle's air filled with the joy of Christmas morning. At that moment, staring at Cimsy's massive eyes as she slowly approached me, I collapsed into her.

***

Hi Catlyn,

I hope your break's going great and you haven't just spent the entire time hold up in your room. I hope you enjoy the wand cleaning kit! I noticed how often you'd clean your or my wand and figured this would be a good gift! asked the Wandmaster at Ollivander's what the best wand cleaning product out there that you could buy someone and he recommended this to me. I hope he knew what he was talking about!

From Anne,

I wince at the words as my break replays in my head. Extra lessons with teachers count, right?

"Miss Catlyn! There's another one here," Cimsy says, handing me another note buried in the bright, colorful, packing. After my "outburst" Cimsy and I decided to move the presets in front of the fireplace.

Hey Catlyn,

Anne explained the sharing parchment thing already. Ok, just read the note she's sending to you. I had a feeling but I can't believe she didn't put it together that "the Wandmaster at Ollivander's" was your father! Just how? Anyway, ignoring how I paid for the kit, I second everything Anne said: don't just study or sit in your room the entire time!

From your hopeful friend Cedric, (who signs their nickname?)

I can't help but chuckle at Cedric's lecture at Anne. How can he be such an older brother and only have been one for a year at most? By now, the sun has risen to the point where light could come through my skylights, protected from the snowfall by a warming charm.

I have been needing more polish and the fibers from my brush have been fraying so this is great! Plus, the little bag it came with will help with portability. My old materials for wand cleaning were just things I borrowed from Father's workshop and stashed in my trunk.

I spot Cimsy merrily throwing used wrapping paper into the fire as I grab another present. This one's wrapped in basic brown paper and a red ribbon. I could already tell from the packaging that it was from Penny. Just like I could tell immediately after picking it up that it was a book.

As if I had been rebooted, my entire body language changed once the book was in my hands. Slowly, I unknotted the ribbon and carefully unfolded the paper. Too slow for Cimsy's liking apparently, as she took it from my hands and ripped the paper to shreds. Saying nothing and hoping Cimsy doesn't realize what she just did, I look to see the name of the book; "Rarely Used Potion Ingredients and Their Further Applications".

Merlin almighty,

I immediately roll my eyes at how she addresses me.

I'm going to be honest, I struggled to find something for you. Cedric was easy, just find something quidditch or healing related and he'll jump on it like a mad man. Anne would probably be happy with anything pretty or clothes. Hermione, I didn't know how or if I should give her one considering she's been avoiding use like the plague. I didn't know what to get you. A book was the obvious, but every book I think you'd like you already own. Then, I remembered how often I'd see you borrow a potion ingredient-related book from the Library. So, I looked for some of the most recently released ones, and here it is! Sorry for such a long letter, I just was proud of myself or something. Anyway, don't die of boredom without me!

Your Queen,

Good thing I knew who this was from considering she forgot to sign her actual name! And she's a Prefect? Chuckling, I handle the new wealth of knowledge carefully and set it down beside me.

Turning to the last box, I turn this one into a mental game. Who is this from? I know only a few people so there can't be that many possibilities. Wait, could it be a trap? What if Dick or someone else decided to f u c k with me? Risking revealing what the gift is early, I open myself up to Mana and focus on the box.

Magic has been used on it, but no dark magic. Focusing closer it looks like only the paper and the box itself have magic in them. Wait no, magic was used on the contents, but not really. It's as if the Mana is interwoven into its existence. Goblin magic! I can only think of a few who would be insane enough to waste that much gold on me.

So it's either Father or Zach. Don't we have this wrapping paper at home? My memory traces back in search of the dark green paper. So then it must be fro- actually, I have to think about this logically. If Zach wanted to send me a gift then he'd send a note with gold to the shop and a description of what he wants. Then he'd send a note to Father about the situation and to pick up the gift. Hmm~.

I give up! My impatience overpowering my excitement at a puzzle, I tear through the paper. With each chunk taken off the present's paper, the black gloss cardboard became more apparent. Inspecting the outside, the only mark on the deep black was a golden carving of an elegant F.

And it's from Fawley Traders? One of the most prestigious companies when it comes to tailor-made magical items? I am going to kick whoever got me this! It's just too much!

Handling the lid with care, I slide it off the top to reveal the satin lining and a pair of majestic boots.

Only befuddlement hit's me as I look at the boots. They're purely knee-high lace-up, black leather boots. No fancy engravings, no jewels, not even silver belt buckles. My slight femininity shows as I vibrate at their presence.

Looking under the shoes, after gawking at them for a minute or two, I find a note.

Dear Madam Pomfrey,

Thank you for agreeing to answer some of my questions on the applications of dark magic in healing. You mentioned a moral dilemma on this subject and I-

So Zake sent the letter then, 'Cimsy, can you bring me my wand? It's in the wand holster draped over the corner of my bed.' It takes a moment to get Cimsy's attention, but once I did she was even more ecstatic than she was playing with the fire, and I didn't even know that was possible.

With a quick disapparate and apparition, within moments my wand was in my hand. Dreading the feeling that will come from running almost empty on Mana, I begrudgingly cast the spell, "Aparecium!"

Rather than a simple point of the wand, I'm forced to trace over the words with the tip, now glowing white, of my wand. As misty light seeps into the ink, it begins to slide around the page until it reverts to its original form.

Sup AC,

Merry Christmas, or happy Hanukkah, hope you're doing great! I know it's been a while but our class was forced into this mandatory field trip and I couldn't get back to you. I did get to ask our Potion's Professor if any potion ingredients target the soul. (Just what are you working on?) He, like many other things, was clueless on the topic. Sorry, I hope you tell me what this was about but I'm fine if you don't. I also don't know who Nicolas Flamel is. Sorry, I can't be more helpful, but why don't you ask Dumbledore who he is? I'm sure a holder of the Order of Merlin would know. Anyway, before you try returning the boots, let me explain. I know you hate presents or people giving you anything so don't think of this as a gift; think of it as payment. You know how you've let me study Sectumsempra and try experimental remedies? As a part of my acceptance for an internship at St. Mungo's, I had to write a thesis. And I sort of used that as the base of my thesis.

They loved it and I got in! So, these boots are a thank you for that. They're Goblin made with the ability to grow as you do. They're also made of dragon leather and concealed to look normal. I know you also have problems with giving gifts so just letting you know I'm not expecting any from you. What extra classes should I take next year? I sent you a list of what I can choose on the back of this. Hoping to hear back soon!

Your miserable friend, Zach.