English

'Thoughts'

Parseltongue

Godric's memory

Draco's letter

Chapter 19: And I Mean That Most Sincerely!

Sal looked puzzled. "What do you mean 'Where's Harry?' I'm right here."

Sirius, Molly, and everyone else who had somehow missed the anvil-sized hints he'd been dropping all evening, stared at Sal.

"You mean none of you noticed?" Sal adopted a hurt expression. "I thought we were family."

Sirius pointed an accusing finger at a snickering Remus. "You knew. This whole time you knew, didn't you?" he hissed.

"Not the whole time," Remus assured him. "I only caught on after that story about his heroic godfather saving him from the rampaging werewolf." Sirius looked slightly mollified by the idea that he had been labeled heroic. "But I'm pretty sure Severus has known for ages, and he didn't say a word. In fact, he's been complaining about Sal all night."

Sirius frowned at Severus. "I should've known by your obvious displeasure that you'd been sitting next to Harry all night."

Severus rolled his eyes so hard, Sal was surprised they didn't jump out of his head. "I'm displeased by nearly everyone."

Sal grinned. "That's true. It's Severus' nature to be disagreeable. It's part of his charm. Like Oscar the Grouch from Sesame Street. Only I suppose Severus would be living in a cauldron if he were a muppet."

Sirius was the very definition of confused. "Do I want an explanation for that comment?"

Remus shrugged. "Probably not."

"Anyway," continued Sal, "You can tell by the way he complains about me that we're friends. It's all in good fun. Isn't that right, Severus?"

"Whatever you say, Professor Slytherin," Severus deadpanned as he rolled his eyes again in the other direction.

"See?" grinned Sal, flinging an arm around Severus' shoulders. "Best friends!"

Severus glared at Sal's hand on his shoulder until Hermione rolled her own eyes and pulled it off. "Stop teasing Professor Snape, Harry."

Sal pouted. "But it's the Christmas holidays, Hermione. It's what family is all about - teasing each other until someone hexes a pudding to your face."

Molly glared at the twins. "Don't even think about it. I worked hard on that pudding."

"Yes, Mum," they chorused.

Sal brightened. "Well, since everyone's in the know, I suppose I'll pop back into my old form for the rest of the evening." He waved a hand over himself and transformed into the Harry Potter they all remembered.

There was a muffled crash in the hallway, followed by a whimpered "Ouch."

"Quiet, Sirius!" hissed Remus. "We don't want Molly to catch us."

"Both of you hush," whispered Arthur. "That woman is like ten of Mad Eye."

Mad Eye actually giggled at that. Apparently, he'd started celebrating early. "What I wouldn't give to have had her in the Auror Corps back in the day."

Severus sighed. "If you're all quite finished, we still have one more man to collect before we head out, though I have no idea why you'd want to bring him along. You know he'll insist on including his blasted hat in the festivities."

Remus grinned. "Come on, Severus. It's Christmas Eve. Besides, don't you want to hear all the embarrassing stories he has about Sal? What do you think, Sirius? How many pints will it take him to spill the beans?"

Sirius looked thoughtful. "Hmm...he is a Gryffindor. I'll put four galleons on twelve pints."

Arthur shook his head. "They make the ale stronger at Mulligan's. I say eight."

Moody grunted in disagreement. "Nah. Ale was stronger in his day. I say twenty."

Remus shrugged. "I'll bet fourteen. Severus?"

"None of you are even close. I say one...half."

Sirius snickered. "Your money. Shh! We're here." He opened the door with a slow, faint creak. "Psst. Godric. Are you awake?"

The lump in the far bed stirred. "Is that you, Sal?" mumbled Godric.

"Hmwuh?" mumbled the lump in the near bed. Then a strange hissing followed.

"Go back to sleep, Sal," Godric moaned. "I'm tired."

"Sississes…" the second lump hissed and rolled over.

"Yes, good night, Sal," Godric sighed.

"Godric!" Remus whispered. "Psst! Godric!"

Godric sat up quickly and looked about.

"Get dressed, Godric," said Remus. "We're going out. Don't wake Sal."

Godric looked befuddled for a moment. "Can I bring Sassy?"

"Yes, yes," huffed Severus. "Just hurry. And be quiet. We don't want to wake Molly."

"Ssshhhhissessissses…"

"The rabbit can't hurt you anymore, Sal," Godric soothed. "Just go back to sleep."

Remus looked intrigued. "How do you know what he's saying?"

Godric shrugged. "It doesn't really matter what I say in response as long as I say it in a soothing tone. I like to just make stuff up. One time we had a lengthy conversation about cabbages."

Severus sighed. "How utterly fascinating. Really. Tell us more."

The interior of Mulligan's was bright and cheerful. Christmas jingles sounded loudly from the jukebox, and Severus was twelve galleons richer. Godric was thoroughly wasted, but the bigger surprise was Sassy.

The Sorting Hat had been placed in a large bowl into which Godric had poured the second half of his pint. Arthur procured a straw from the owner of the establishment, and Sassy was happily sipping his adult beverage, which would then fall immediately back into the bowl. It was a neverending half-pint, and Sassy was three sheets to the wind and getting louder with every sip as he sang along to the music from the jukebox.

"Should we cut him off?" asked Arthur. "The muggles might get suspicious."

"Pssh!" scoffed Mad Eye. "They're all toasted anyway. They'll just chalk it up to a drunken hallucination."

Severus nodded. "Pubs are the least likely place for a wizard to get caught in the muggle world. I do wish, however, that he hadn't learned the words to The Little Drummer Boy. I do detest that song. Whoever wrote it should be shot on the highway. Down like a dog on the highway."

"Sho' wif wuh?" Remus asked sloppily.

Severus glared at him disdainfully. "With a gun, of course. What else would you shoot a dog with? A bow and arrow? A tickling charm? Pfft. Gryffindors."

"Hear hear!" shouted Godric. "Let's hear it for Gryffindors!"

Sassy quickly changed his tune to something a bit more modern. "Shot through the heart, and you're to blame! You give love a bad name!" SHHHHLOOP! went the ale up his straw. Severus smirked. It was a vast improvement. The evening wasn't turning out half bad.

Sirius was having a grand time. "Tell us a story, oh wise professor of...what do you teach again?"

Godric held up a finger as he drained his mug and then wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "Herb-erb...bibo...lo...Plants!" he beamed. "I teach all about plants. And their various ach...attri...atti…? All about plants." He nodded with satisfied finality.

Remus leaned forward. "Tell us a Sal story, Godric. A funny one."

Godric furrowed his brow and crossed his eyes deep in thought. "Hmm...a funny Sal story...so many to choose from...hmm…"

Severus huffed. "Don't hurt yourself there," he muttered.

Sassy paused his slurping and chimed in, "How about the British Inquisition?"

Godric brightened. "Ah yes! Tha's a good one! 'Cept for the church blowing up."

Arthur looked vaguely ill. "A church? Was anyone in it?"

Godric thought for several seconds. "Umm...I don't remember. Hang on. Um...no?" He looked to Sassy for the answer.

The hat let out an enormous belch and supplied, "Just some blokes in floppy, red hats. Nobody liked them."

Sirius smirked. "The hats, or the blokes?"

Sassy grinned. "Both."

Godric nodded. "They were a real danger to society." He raised his mug to take another drink, frowned at the obviously empty vessel, and then set it down again with a shrug before leaning in to continue his tale. "We were in some town or other, trying to obtain birth records to help with our search for muggleborn students. Sal pretended to be somebody important. The pope's shoe polisher, or something. And I…"

"Who will I be, Sal?" asked Godric eagerly.

Sal shot him a wary glance. "I think you should be a monk who's taken a vow of silence. Yes, definitely. No talking. Start practicing now."

"Okay!" chirped Godric. He suddenly looked horrified. "Oh no. I talked. And then I talked again. And then again! Sal! I can't stop!" he cried frantically as he grasped his friend's robes.

"Calm down, Godric. Just think about what you've done. Just think it. Think as loud as you like, as long as it's all in your mind." Sal patted Godric's arm soothingly.

Godric nodded. 'Right.' He grinned triumphantly at Sal. 'I did it!' he thought.

Sal nodded. "Yes, Godric. Just like that."

The path broadened into a large town square with a well in the center. Directly across from the two travelers was the town's pride and joy, a modest but respectable church. Sal checked their disguises again before leading the way into the building where they found a local fellow dusting the pulpit. The man glanced up at them in curiosity.

"Hello, good sir!" greeted Sal with his most charming smile. "I am a V.I.P. from the Vatican."

The man squinted in confusion. "A V.I.P.?"

"A Very Important Person," Sal explained.

"From the Va'ican?"

"Yes. My name is...Father Mario. And this is Brother Luigi. He's taken a vow of silence, so he won't be answering any questions, or saying anything at all."

Godric smiled benevolently. 'Hello.'

"We're here to inspect the records," said Sal.

"Records?" asked the man.

"You know, the births, christenings, that sort of thing."

The man nodded. "Oh. You must be with those fellas in red."

Sal stopped smiling. "Excuse me, what?"

Godric wondered why Sal looked so pale. 'Are you all right, Sal?' he thought very loudly.

"Yes, we're with the two cardinals," Sal said.

"There's three of 'em," said the man.

"Of course, yes. Three. The three cardinals. We're definitely with them."

The man shrugged. "This way then. They're consul'ing with Father Bru'us in the cloister." He led them through a doorway to a lovely garden where a severe looking priest was conversing with three men in red robes and matching floppy hats.

"There is one thing we must do," the most important-looking cardinal was saying. "We must question the child and then denounce him. Those are the two things we must do: question, denounce, and execute. Those three things."

"No' a one of 'em can count," muttered the local man as he shuffled back into the nave, presumably to continue his dusting in peace.

Sal squared his shoulders and strode confidently toward the group. "Good morning! I must say, we were not expecting to find you here, your eminenceses."

The lead cardinal scoffed. "NObody expects the British Inquisition! Our chief weapon is-"

"Surprise. Yes, I know," interrupted Sal. "What's this I hear about questioning a child?"

"We are questioning and investigating heresy of the highest order," declared the cardinal.

"Of course, yes. Um...and that is…?"

"Witchcraft."

Godric's thoughts got really loud. 'SAL! WE'VE GOT TO GET OUT OF HERE! DANGER, SAL! DANGER!'

Sal, obviously pretending not to hear him, continued to make inquiries. "Did you bring your rack? You know, for interrogation purposes?"

The cardinals all looked at each other uncertainly. "Well, no. We sort of just assumed they'd have one here we could borrow."

Father Brutus looked both surprised and apologetic. "Sorry, no. We don't have anything of the sort."

Sal turned to the priest and said gently, "Don't worry about it. We'll sort this out. Why don't you go prepare the evening's sermon. I recommend Matthew 7:3-5. That's always relevant." He watched the priest hurry off and then turned to address the cardinals again.

"I think you'll find the usual methods won't serve you in this village. People here aren't afraid of pain. A peasant's life is rather hard, you know. What they really fear is…"

The cardinals leaned closer, eager to hear this advice. "Yes?"

"...comfort," finished Sal.

"Of course! Ye-what?" They looked at each other in puzzlement.

Sal continued to explain. "They don't trust it, you see. Too foreign a concept. Your best tools here will be soft cushions, a comfy chair, and gentle voices."

The cardinals looked doubtful, but interested.

Just then, the priest returned, escorting a young woman who was holding the hand of a small boy. She looked terrified. Sal smiled reassuringly at mother and son while Godric thought, 'DON'T WORRY. SAL AND I WILL SAVE YOU.'

Father Brutus pointed at the child. "Do not be fooled by this small demon's innocent appearance. He may look like an angel, but he has offended our Lord with his wicked deeds."

Sal cast his own deceptively innocent gaze upon the priest and inquired, "What wicked deeds would those be?"

The priest's nostrils flared with righteous indignation. "He has defiled my priestly vestments with the filth of his nostrils."

Sal held up a hand. "Wait," he said. "You think he's a witch because he blew his nose on your robes?"

The priest raised a condescending eyebrow. "He accomplished this task from the opposite end of the nave."

Sal looked to the boy, obviously impressed. "That's what - seventy-five feet?"

The supposed demon shrugged and then adopted an angelic smile.

The lead cardinal stepped in front of Sal to loom over the boy. "Confess your sins, child, or we shall be forced to place you in…" he looked back at Sal for a moment, "...the comfy chair."

The boy looked to Sal, confusion on his face. Sal winked at him from behind the cardinal and nodded, as if to say, "Go along with it."

The lead cardinal stood up straight. "Fetch the comfy chair!"

Sal immediately presented them with a nicely overstuffed armchair. "Look what I found!" he declared, as if he hadn't just conjured the thing up when nobody was looking.

Godric picked up the boy and plopped him down on the bouncy cushion.

The boy shivered. "It's so squishy. I'll sink into it and suffocate! Let me up! Let me up, please, sir!"

"Silence!" barked the lead cardinal.

Sal stepped forward with a warning glance at the cardinal. "Soft voices," he muttered reprovingly. "Now then," he addressed the child. "What is your name?"

"Mordred, Father. Mordred Malfoy."

Sal looked nonplussed for a moment before seeming to recover. "Tell us what really happened, or we'll be forced to administer a strong..." he winked conspiratorially at Mordred here "...cup of hot tea."

The boy then turned a suddenly tearful face to the imposing cardinal and cried, "Oh no! Not tea! Anything but that! I swear I haven't been bad. I don't want to go to the burning place and drink hot tea!"

The cardinals exchanged smug glances. It was working.

"Wait," interrupted Sirius. "The kid was a Malfoy?"

Godric nodded. "Yes. The first wizard of the Malfoy line. Bloody adorable, he was. We were fortunate to have saved him and his mother from those horrible men."

"But if Sal could outsmart the cardinals," questioned Remus, "why did you have to blow up the church?"

"We didn't!" protested Godric.

"Mordred did," supplied Sassy.

"No, he didn't," argued Godric. "It was just bad luck."

Sassy harumphed in obvious doubt.

"Anyway," Godric continued, "Sal was able to convince the villagers that the explosion was the wrath of God smiting the cardinals for insi...insinurating...imply...for saying Mordred was evil."

Even Severus looked impressed.

"Wait!" Arthur whisper-shouted. "Everyone take off your shoes."

"Why?" Godric whisper-shouted back.

"So we can walk more...not-loudly," explained Mad Eye in a booming whisper of his own.

"And why, pray tell, would you need to 'walk more not-loudly'?" inquired a stern, feminine voice.

Godric blinked up at the furious redhead. "We weren't expecting the British Inquisition!"

Christmas morning dawned at the usual bright and early time, much to the chagrin of the five men nursing hangovers. Molly flitted about the kitchen, banging pans and delivering a loud, lengthy sermon on the evils of overindulgence. A very sleepy Harry came down the stairs to behold this comic scene.

"What happened to you?" he asked Godric with a bemused smile.

Godric lifted his head and opened one bleary eye. "I don't know. We were just sharing a friendly drink of something frothy, and the next thing I knew...everything in the world was too loud, and the light is yelling at me."

Harry turned to Sirius, an angry expression on his face. "You took Godric drinking last night?!"

Sirius winced and covered his ears. "He's an adult," he pouted. "We couldn't take you with us because I'm supposed to be a responsible example around my godson."

Mad Eye glared at Harry with both eyes. "Keep it down, will you? There's nothing wrong with a bit of ale. Like you've never enjoyed a pint or two with the other Founders. I've heard the stories about that Hufflepuff woman."

Harry turned his disapproving glare on Mad Eye. "I've never had a drop. Godric isn't much more experienced with the evils of alcohol, either. We were both the designated apparators whenever Helga went pubbing."

Molly smiled approvingly. "You've always been such a good boy, Harry. These so-called adults could learn a thing or two from you. Have a sausage, dear."

Everyone gathered around the tree, enjoying the warmth of the fire and the twinkling fairy lights. Luckily, Molly hadn't noticed the muffled curses emanating from the garden gnome the twins had forced into a lopsided halo and wings and then lashed to the top of the tall Scots pine. Instead, she was flitting amongst friends and family, distributing steaming mugs of cocoa and large platters of assorted homemade biscuits. Celestina Warbeck's bold vocals underlay the chatter of several conversations about the room.

"All right, everyone!" Arthur shouted. "Have a seat, Molly. It's time for presents! Everyone got their piles?"

"Yes, yes, Dad," Ron shouted impatiently. "Can we please start now?"

Harry had opted to drop his teenage glamour after breakfast, so it was a cheerful Sal who piped up, "Actually, if no one minds, I thought we'd start with Mrs. Weasley's gifts. Start with mine and Godric's, please. I think you'll like them."

Molly blushed at the attention. "Call me Molly, Har-I mean Sal."

"Call me whatever you want, Molly. They're both my names. Now go on," he urged with waving hands. "It's the one with the reindeer wearing sweaters."

"Oh, and mine's the one just on top of that!" shouted Godric.

Molly smiled down at the large, square package covered in frollicking, sweater clad reindeer. "Oh, isn't that precious? 'Twould be a shame to rip such lovely paper." She began carefully pulling at the tape on one end.

The children groaned. "No, Mum," said Ron. "You're supposed to rip right into it."

Molly shot him a stern look. "It's my present," she reminded him. "If I wish to open it underwater whilst standing on my head, that's my right."

"Of course, Mum," nodded George. "Go fill up the tub, Fred."

"Oh, sit down, you!" scolded Molly. Fortunately, she had not paused in her unwrapping during this exchange, and the box was revealed a moment later. "Oh. It's a...ROO...M...BA?" She stared at the box in obvious confusion.

Sal's grin didn't falter. "It's an automated floor sweeper. You turn it on, set it loose, and it just roams about the floor, cleaning up dirt, dust, and whatever small debris it encounters."

"Oh, how useful!" cried Molly. "Thank you, Harry. This is perfect. It does take ages to do the floors in this house."

"Open mine next!" shouted Godric. "Mine is next!"

Molly eagerly turned to the next, smaller package and tore into the shiny, red paper without remorse. "Crochet hooks! I've always wanted to learn. I hear it's quite a bit faster than knitting, and the family isn't getting any smaller." She smiled at Godric, who was looking quite pleased with himself. "Thank you, dear. Oh, and here's something more! Look everyone!" She held up an official-looking certificate for all to see. "A coupon for free lessons from Godric. I didn't know you were crafty."

Godric blushed and ducked his head. "It's nothing. I picked it up during that summer I'd broken my arm. Couldn't knit with just one hand, you see. Mordred's mother taught me - as a thank you for rescuing him from that tree."

Molly smiled at him before swatting Arthur's hand away from the Roomba box. "You're not disassembling my present, Arthur. Hands off."

"Don't worry, Molly," said Sal. "We've gotten him something of his own to play with. Go on, Mr. Weasley. It's the two with the gift-bearing Christmas octopuses...octopi? Those things."

"The heavy one is from me!" said Godric.

Sal rolled his eyes. "They're both heavy."

"Mine's heavier," argued Godric.

Sal was about to respond when Arthur shouted with glee. "A battle bot remote control construct and combat kit!" he read from the box label. He quickly tore into the second package. "And power tools! That run on eckletricity! Thanks, boys!"

Sal winked at Molly. "I think that'll keep him away from your roomba."

Molly winked back in agreement.

Remus looked at Arthur's presents with interest. "Which one of mine is from you, Harry?" Sal indicated a long, flat package covered in paper that sported werewolves riding bicycles with full moons for tires. "Oh, I thought that one was from Sirius."

Sirius shook his head. "Wish I'd thought of it, but no. Looks like a book, mate. Too bad."

Remus frowned at him. "There's nothing wrong with a good book." He hefted the gift in both hands. "Quite heavy. Perhaps a coffee table book. You'd like that, Padfoot. Lots of pictures."

Severus smirked into his mug of cocoa. "Perhaps it's Trees of the World. You could point out all the ones you've pissed on."

"Oh shut up, Snape," grumbled Sirius. "Nothing wrong with pictures," he muttered to himself.

Remus pulled back the paper to reveal a ten pound bar of Belgian chocolate. "Oh my."

Sirius perked right up. "That's better than a picture book. Can I have some?"

Remus dragged the bar out of Sirius' reach. "No. Open your own present. It's probably chocolate, too. It is book-shaped."

Sirius frowned at the flat package whose gift wrap was covered in drawings of fire hydrants. "But it's smaller."

Sal laughed. "You'll like it, I promise."

Sirius eagerly ripped the paper off to reveal...a book. His face fell. "A book?"

"Does it have pictures, Black?" snarked Severus.

Sal frowned. "It has a few illustrations, and one photograph of a re-enactment, but...it's mostly text. It's still really awesome!"

Hermione leaned closer for a peek. "Hogwarts: A History - Teachers Edition by Ishmael Watson," she read.

Sirius sighed. "I've already bought a copy."

Sal shook his head, smiling. "That's Hogwarts: An Unabridged History," he said. "This is the Teachers Edition. Take a look at the chapter titles."

Sirius opened the book to the table of contents. "How Hogwarts Got Its Motto, How the Giant Squid Got Its Tentacles, How the Students Got Their Scarves, How Helga Got Her Man…Sounds a bit like a children's storybook."

Sal shrugged. "So I'm bad at chapter titles. I promise the stories are very entertaining. These are all the ones I couldn't include in the other book. Not suitable for children, you see."

Sirius perked up again. "Not suitable for children?"

Godric nodded. "We wouldn't want them getting ideas."

Sirius looked back at the page. "How Helga Got Her Wand."

"Oh!" cried Ron. "That's a good one!"

"I thought you said these stories weren't suitable for children," said Remus, definitely interested.

Sal shrugged again. "He happened to be there when I was using it to illustrate an important point for Neville. There are exceptions to every rule."

Hermione frowned. "I thought that story was proving that Helga was an exception to the rule you were trying to remind Neville of."

"Semantics," Sal replied dismissively. "But yes, you should definitely read that one first, Sirius."

"Actually," said Godric, "I think he should start with the one about you."

Sirius looked up with a gleam in his eye. "Which one would that be?"

Godric grinned. "Oh, the one entitled How the-"

"Ron!" shouted Sal. "Why don't you open yours now?"

Easily distracted, Ron obliged. He held up a box decorated with sloths wearing santa hats. "Is it this one?" Getting an affirmative nod, he tore off the paper to discover a large box of chocolate frogs. "Oh. Thanks, mate. I do like these, and I still haven't found Agrippa yet."

"Sorry, Ron," said Sal. "I guarantee there won't be an Agrippa in that batch."

But Ron had already opened the first package and was munching on a slightly squirming frog while studying the card. "Rupert Black," he read. "Who's that?"

Godric grinned at Sal. "Read the back to find out."

Ron turned the card over, and everyone could see the painted portrait of a plain-looking, black-haired boy in Hogwarts robes, holding a star chart. He wore a green and silver scarf, the ends of which extended past the edges of the frame. "Rupert Black is known for his excellent grades and fascination with the stars. When he grows up, he'd like to be an astronomer. He plans to name his firstborn son after his favorite constellation: Camelopardalis, the giraffe, because why not?"

The whole room burst into laughter. "So it's a joke then?" asked Ron after several minutes.

Sirius wiped the tears from his eyes and waved his hand to catch everyone's attention. "Wait. Wait. I had an ancestor named Camelopardalis. It's actually Bellatrix's middle name."

That got everyone laughing again.

"Oh my," sighed Sal. "Well, that doesn't surprise me. Rupert was your ancestor, after all. The first Black to attend Hogwarts."

Hermione grabbed the box out of Ron's hands. "Hang on, it says on the box: 'The First Slytherins: a limited reproduction of the first Chocolate Frog card series ever made."

"That's right," said Sal. "I thought it would be fun to give them to my students that first Christmas. Each of them has his or her own card, and that's a complete set. As part of my deal with the company, I had the first printing reserved just for you, Ron."

Ron gazed at the box in wonder for a moment before snatching it out of Hermione's hands. He proceeded to tear into every single package, not pausing for the chocolate frogs leaping every which way to escape his frenzied search. Remus caught a good few of them and handed them off to Sirius, who munched happily as he perused his new favorite book.

When Ron had finished gathering the entire set, he laid them all out in front of him. He looked at the pictures for a moment, furrowed his brow in thought, and then suddenly started carefully rearranging them.

"What are you doing, Ron?" asked Hermione.

"They go in a certain order, I think," Ron replied absently. "Look at the pictures."

Sure enough, when the family all gathered around to see, it was quite obvious. The scarves around their necks were actually one very long scarf that wound its way among the student's portraits and ended in one giant, knitted heap. Ron frowned at it. "Who's supposed to be in this one? You can't even see anyone."

Sal grinned fondly at the card and poked at it with the tip of his finger. "That's Mordred Malfoy, the youngest and smallest of my students that year. He was bloody adorable."

"Language, Harry," scolded Molly, as she leaned in for a closer look.

The pile of scarf shifted a bit as a small hand emerged from one side and tugged a section down to reveal a round, angelic face with a pointy nose and tufts of blonde hair. The child grinned at them and waved.

"Oh!" cried Molly. "He's bloody adorable!"

"Language, Mum!" chided George.

Godric chuckled. "Mordred was incredibly cute. A pain in the neck, sometimes, but cute."

Sal nodded in agreement. "He may have always had his finger stuck up his nose, but there wasn't anything or anyone more precious in all of Britain. Mothers would see him and then look down at their babies, then back at Mordred, then back at their own babies and wonder why they weren't Mordred."

"Not all babies are pleasant to look at," said Severus. "Some are positively hideous. Squealing little blobs of pink flesh." He shuddered. "Children."

Molly looked reprovingly at him. "All of my children were adorable," she said. "Well, except Ginny. She was a blotchy, red, little thing."

"MUM!" Ginny shouted, clearly offended and more than a little embarrassed.

"Oh, you got cuter as you grew," said Molly, "but you were definitely not my cutest newborn."

"Who was the cutest?" asked Godric.

"Fred," Molly replied without hesitation.

"What?!" cried George. "But we're identical!"

"Except for my being slightly more adorable," said Fred, puffing up his chest and grinning smugly.

Sal laughed. "Oh, just open your presents. That should cheer you up."

Fred and George eagerly began rooting about in their pile, searching for the one with the most unusual wrapping paper. "Aha!" cried Fred, holding up a box decorated with ugly demon beasts and burning children. "What's a Krampus?"

Godric looked surprised. "You mean no one warned you about him?"

The twins exchanged nervous looks. "Nnnno. Should we be worried?"

"Well, not if you've been good little boys, I suppose," was Godric's response. "The Krampus comes on Christmas Eve on the back of Santa's sleigh. All the good little boys and girls get wonderful presents from Santa Claus, but naughty little boys and girls are snatched up by the Krampus, who tosses them into his sack and beats them before devouring them whole."

"Makes the meat nice and tender, you see," added Sal. Everyone stared at him in horror. "What? Oh, it's only a story."

"Tell that to my first year Gryffindors," Godric grinned. "They were always on their best behavior before Christmas."

Sal looked at him in surprise. "I always wondered about that."

Meanwhile, Fred and George, clearly not afraid of a Krampus who had never come for them on even their worst Christmas Eve, had ripped the paper off their gift and torn the lid off the box. "I didn't know we needed glasses, George," said Fred.

"Maybe they're for Mum. So she can see which of us is actually cuter," muttered George. He pulled out a pair of thick, plastic-framed spectacles that were attached to a large nose and rather bushy facial hair. "Or maybe they're for Mad Eye. You know, so he doesn't feel so self-conscious about his face."

Fred nodded sagely. "Yes, he does have difficulty looking people in the eye." He tried on the second, matching pair. "How do I look?"

George blinked. "Surprisingly pretty, I'd say."

Sirius and Remus nodded in unison. "Yes," said Sirius. "You'll be beating the boys off with a stick, looking like that."

Fred frowned. "What?" He grabbed the reflective wrapper from one of Ron's chocolate frogs and squinted at his blurry reflection. "Hang on. I can't see the glasses. Or me."

Hermione giggled and conjured him a proper mirror. "Very stylish, Freda. Who does your hair?"

Fred laughed at his much clearer reflection. He batted his thick, long eyelashes and giggled. "I do it myself, but I only use Gilderoy Lockhart's line of beauty products," he said in a high falsetto. Then he shoved the other pair of glasses onto George's face. His brother was instantly transformed into a slender, blonde man with long hair, pointy ears, and perfect skin.

Hermione fanned herself with one hand. "Legolas is so dreamy," she sighed.

Fred's pretty girl self pouted. "Why didn't I get the dreamboat?"

Sal tapped the side of his now invisible glasses, and Fred morphed into a ruggedly handsome brunette. Hermione giggled. "Aragorn is almost as good," she informed him.

"You can cycle through all the different glamours by tapping on the frames," Sal told them. "There are six built into each pair. Most of them are practical, but I couldn't resist adding in a couple of celebrities. Muggle, of course."

Legolas George and Aragorn Fred grinned at each other in unholy glee. It was a very strange look for the usually somber characters. "Excellent! Think of the mayhem!" shouted Fred.

"Think of the mischief!" shouted George.

"We'll be unstoppable!" both twins cried out in unison. "Thanks, Professor Slytherin!"

Hermione frowned. "They'll need to work on their voices, but there's potential."

Severus looked horrified. "I'd better alert Minerva." He leaned over to Sal and whispered, "You do have photos of all those glamours for reference, correct?"

Sal nodded. "I've already sent a set to every head of house and Filch. No worries. Let them have their moment for now." He nudged Severus toward his own modest pile of gifts. "Go on. I got you something special."

Severus held up one corner of a small, flat parcel with just his thumb and forefinger. He lifted an eyebrow at Sal, "This one is either from you or Albus," he sneered.

"Definitely from me," said Sal. "I thought it might cheer you up to have one more thing to be disgusted with."

"Congratulations," Severus drawled, curling his lip at the Santas sporting hawaiian shirts and flip-flops, "You've succeeded." He opened the gift to reveal… "Spare bit of parchment? Let me guess - this one gives me compliments?"

Sal frowned. "Is that what you wanted? Sorry. It's actually just the location and password for a secret mold garden hidden in the depths of the dungeons. Thought you might like to use it for ingredients and research purposes." He shrugged. "If it's not to you liking, I could just have the whole thing cleaned out. Dobby and Winky could use the extra hours."

Severus adopted a horrified expression. "No, no! I'm quite happy with mold. Leave it alone. It's mine now." He studied the parchment intently.

"Actually," said Sal, "It's always been yours. At least, it's always been the property of the Prince family. You are descended from the Prince family, right? You certainly look like a Prince." This last remark garnered more than one odd look from the other people in the room, but Severus just looked surprised.

"How did you know?"

"You look just like Henry. Only...taller. And less...happy."

"Oi!" cried Ron, holding up one of his new cards. "I found him. 'Henry Prince is known for his fascination with all things going into or coming out of a cauldron. He is particularly adept at cultivating useful molds and fungi and has been allotted his own space in the Hogwarts dungeons for that purpose. When he grows up, he wishes to make his mark as one of the finest potion brewers in history and outshine his less-than-qualified professor.' Sounds like a fun guy to have at a party."

Sal nodded, "You don't know the half of it. He mostly used his brewing skills for pranks. I put him in charge of Slytherin House morale. Making it an official position made him more willing to provide antidotes. When he remembered to create them, that is."

"Salazar Harry James Potter-Slytherin!" cried an outraged Hermione. "What is this?" She held up a large scroll that still had a scrap of adorable otter wrapping paper dangling from one end.

"Ah! I see you've found your present" Sal exclaimed happily. "An ancient scroll holding the answer to life, the universe, and everything."

"Really, Sal?" Hermione fumed. "42?!" She turned the scroll around to reveal that it did indeed read "42" in large, black calligraphy. Then she rolled it up and proceeded to whack her friend over the head with it.

"Ow!" Sal cried, as he curled up into a defensive ball. "No, don't! You'll damage it! Look again!"

Hermione abruptly stopped and unfurled the scroll again. "Oh. Oh! This is so...Oh, Harry! Thank you! Oh, so exciting!"

Sal frowned and rubbed at the goose egg forming on his head. "Should confiscate that from you. Shame on you for showing such disregard for valuable, ancient manuscripts. You know better. What would Madame Pince say?"

Remus tried to read over Hermione's shoulder, but he couldn't see past her hair. "What is it?" he asked.

Sal waved a dismissive hand. "Smart people stuff. I haven't the foggiest. I knicked it from Rowena's desk one afternoon in retaliation for her banning me from...nevermind."

Hermione didn't look up from her reading. "That's good. I'll let you borrow it when I'm done, Remus."

There were only two parcels remaining: Sal's and Godric's gifts to each other. Godric rubbed his hands together with excessive glee. "I've been looking forward to this all week. Whatever could you have gotten me, Sal? Your gifts are always so thoughtful." He pasted a disturbingly sweet smile onto his face. "Could it be another sheath cozy for my sword? The other one was absolutely fabulous. So sad when it caught on fire."

Sal smiled stiffly. "Of course not, Godric. You know I never give the same gift twice. Perhaps you could ask Molly to knit you another one. She has access to much brighter pinks than I did. I hear you can even buy sparkly yarn nowadays."

Godric grinned even wider. "What a delightful idea. Shall I open it now?"

Sal tilted his head and batted his lashes. "Yes, please. I hope you like it ever so much. But first, observe the wrapping. I spent hours selecting just the right paper."

Godric held the package in front of himself, and gazed at the design with wide, terrified eyes that did not match his happy grin. "Oh goody. Sock monkeys. I do so love them and their...disturbingly cute faces."

Ron leaned over to Hermione and tapped her on the shoulder. She looked up from her scroll. "I think there's something wrong with those two. They're acting weird."

Hermione frowned. "So?"

"No," Ron huffed. "WEIRD weird. Like fake happy weird."

Hermione's brow furrowed as she glanced over at Sal and Godric, still exchanging oddly phrased pleasantries and admiring the hideous wrapping paper. She shivered. "Ugh. Sock monkeys give me the creeps."

"They're so adorable that I simply can't bear to look at them any longer," proclaimed Godric. "I'll explode from the cuteness." He then ripped savagely into the paper, beheading several sock monkeys and tossing the lot behind him and into the face of Sirius, who had taken position behind Godric to watch the gift exchange over the recipient's shoulder. Sirius shrieked and batted the freakish monkeys away.

"Oh my!" exclaimed Godric. "Why, it's 'Goody Seedsman's 100% Organic Weed Deterrent'," he read. "Oh how lovely. And it's 'Guaranteed not to harm any living thing', too!" It's so...environmentally responsible. Thank you, Sal! You know me so well. So, so well."

Sal seemed disappointed, despite the fact that he was still sporting an unnaturally wide grin. "I knew you would love it. Shall I open mine now?"

Godric seemed actually happy now. "Yes, but do pause a moment to admire the wrapping paper I so lovingly selected just for you."

Sal looked down at his long, narrow box and beheld a collage of cartoon knickers. "Oh! How…" Sal shot a nervous glance toward Molly, who was squinting at the paper as if she could not believe her eyes. "Colorful! So many...wonderful colors! I might actually have to frame this. What do you think, Severus? Should I use an oak or cherry wood frame? It could go right above my office desk so everyone can admire it. Would you like some for your office, too?"

Severus regarded the bright paper with extreme distaste. "I'm afraid it doesn't go with my current decorating scheme of intimidating yet perfectly sane potions professor."

"More for me, then," said Sal. "Lucky me." He carefully slit the tape and slid the paper off the box. Then he gently folded it and tucked it into his pocket. "Mustn't lose it now," he chuckled. "I'm still kicking myself for misplacing that statue of Ammut."

Godric shook his head. "I still don't understand how you lost a life-sized statue of a hippo-lion-crocodile goddess wearing a fruit basket on her head."

"Neither can I," Sal shrugged. "Perhaps some thief stole it away in the night. Someone who could really appreciate the craftsmanship."

Sal then opened the lid of his gift box, and his grin became even more disturbingly fixed. "Oh look!" he cried. "It's an...arm warmer!" He held up a long, red, knitted object with two flopping extensions on either side. "It's even got little…" he flicked at one of the extensions, "ventilation tubes so it doesn't get too hot. How thoughtful of you, Godric."

Godric grinned gleefully. "Oh Sal! It isn't an arm warmer, silly. It's a sweater!"

Sal nodded. "Of course, yes! A sweater for my arm. It's an arm sweater."

Godric shook his head. "No, Sal. It's a sweater for your whole body."

Severus snorted into his mug of cocoa. "The proportions seem a bit off."

"Don't be silly," said Godric. "I measured him while he was napping. I assure you the proportions are quite accurate. Although, I did have to guess at sleeve length, since those are obviously purely for aesthetic purposes."

Everyone cast incredulous looks between the sweater, Sal, and Godric. Ron muttered, "That isn't creepy at all."

Sal turned to Godric with a pained, slightly panicked smile. "Godric, my dear friend," he began, "I thought we had agreed not to discuss this particular bit of information in front of others?"

Godric waved his hand dismissively. "Nonsense, Sal. We're among family." He adopted an expression of exaggerated uncertainty. "Don't you like it?"

"NO! I mean YES!" Sal cried. "I absolutely love it! I adore it! It's got to be the most wonderful present anyone has ever given me! And so useful, too! It's even better than the matching set of odor-canceling earmuffs and noise-canceling slippers you gifted me that one year."

"And you'll look just as handsome in this sweater," agreed Godric. "Go ahead. Try it on." He gave Sal an encouraging nudge.

Sal slid an arm through and wiggled his fingers out the neckhole. "Ooh! So cozy, soft, and warm!" he cooed.

Godric gave an exasperated sigh. "No, Sal. Wear it properly - as intended."

Molly glanced at Arthur and whispered, "Should we send the children out of the room?"

Arthur looked puzzled. "Why?"

Sal closed his eyes and...his body began to slowly morph, elongating and sinking lower to the floor until….

Every occupant in the room gasped in shock. "Harry!" cried Sirius. "I'm so proud of you! You're an animagus!"

Sal lifted his head and hissed proudly. Godric smiled fondly. "Yes, Sal. I do enjoy coconuts this time of year." Serpent Sal shot him an annoyed look. "Now slither on in," said Godric, as he helpfully held up the sweater for his friend.

Sal's animagus form, which was a lovely, bright shade of green, coordinated rather festively with the bright red sweater and white trim. The garment fitted him from just below his head to halfway down his body. The sleeves dangled uselessly on either side.

"Go on," Godric prompted. "Give us a shimmy." Serpent Sal reluctantly shimmied from side to side, and the sleeves flapped about. Severus choked on his cocoa as he reflexively attempted to laugh and swallow simultaneously. Serpent Sal seemed to have adopted a long-suffering expression. Godric was beaming.

Narcissa was sipping a lovely cup of tea in the parlor when Draco approached her. "Mother, there is going to be a little get together of fashionably pureblood students. Blaise has volunteered to host it. Do you mind if I attend?"

Narcissa smiled at him benevolently. "That sounds lovely, dear. It will do you good to get out of the house. I've noticed your father seems a bit clingy these days, and we mustn't allow him to smother you."

"Thank you, mother," said Draco. "I'll just send Blaise an owl to let him know I'm coming."

Blaise was enjoying the peace and quiet of a Draco-less Christmas. No bicycles, no rock and roll, and no matching t-shirts proclaiming the wearers to be 'WITH STUPID'. Draco was his closest friend, but the youngest Malfoy could be a bit much sometimes. Blaise was looking forward to a very predictable, uneventful -

"Blaise, dear, you've got a letter from that Malfoy boy," his mother interrupted. "It's marked 'SUPER MOST URGENT! OPEN AT ONCE! SERIOUSLY, BLAISE, I MEAN IT!'"

Blaise sighed and held out his hand. "I suppose I should see what he wants now."

Blaise, I hope your holiday is free because you've just volunteered to host a pureblood soiree at your residence. Don't worry, you're not actually hosting a soiree. That's a cover story. What you're really doing is helping me to organize and execute a tour of muggle London for a few of our closest, most open minded friends. Which Blaise understood to mean every Slytherin in their year except Pansy. I expect you to dress appropriately, and we'll meet up at the Leaky Cauldron Friday at the crack of dawn. Which was Dracospeak for 10:00 am. This will be so much fun!

Your best friend,

Draco Malfoy

P.S. Come up with some suitable cover story to explain to the muggles why we're so exceptional. I'm too busy planning our itinerary. Perhaps we can be foreigners? I don't know. That's your job. Your entirely voluntary, unpaid job.

P.P.S. You're welcome!

'Well, there go my plans,' thought Blaise with a sigh.

Crispy: In case any of you are wondering, the wrapping paper designs described in the gift exchange scene are all real - especially the Krampus paper featuring the burning children. Oh, and Sal's animagus form is a green tree python. There are many adorable photos to be found on the internet.

ZA: Hope you're looking forward to the next chapter!

Crispy: Which will be finished soon. We hope. I've really been looking forward to the muggle London tour.