25 December 1998

Christmas during wartime was markedly different than Christmas during peace, and Albus was pensive in the few minutes before the Christmas Feast. His bloodline nearly dated back to the dawn of magic, and it didn't occur to him to fathom a life without the ability to simply have or do with the barest of thoughts – so consequently, when he did, one of his greatest fears was taking this life for granted. Perhaps this was why he embraced celebratory occasions with such fanfare and enthusiasm.

The doors to the Great Hall swung open and even during wartime there was something so magical about Christmas that the undertones that made up the student body echoed more with wonder than the sadness. Even the older students paused to admire the snowflakes that fell without chill as they dusted the Evergreen trees and gathered against the walls. There were far too many decorations and perhaps the enchanted snowmen were excessive, but Albus found it all quite wonderful. Beaming, he rose with open arms.

"Good evening, friends! I am delighted that you have decided to share your holiday with an old man." Perhaps decided wasn't quite the right word, he reflected, but he was far from above forced optimism.

"Christmas is the time of giving and sharing. It is the time of loving and forgiving. I think, then, that it will not do to spend this evening divided." With a wave of his wand the four House tables became one and the Head table disappeared.

"I also think this is a perfect night to dine in pajamas." And because he wished it, so it was, and with a dazzling flash, both the students and the staff wore garish robes striped in red and green. After a moment's thought, he added flashing purple stars to his own pajamas and gave a nod of deep satisfaction.

"Before we begin let us not forget: the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. **"

He beamed again and chose a seat between two Hufflepuffs, deciding it was much safer between two students than two professors. Instead of helping himself to something more sensible, he reached for a glass of peppermint mouse. With wide eyes, the younger students beside him reached for the same with something akin to glee.

Despite Minerva's disapproving sniff (clearly one did not wear pajamas to the dinner table, and one certainly did not indulge in dessert before vegetables) and the wrath of Severus Snape (a failed attempt to return his robes to their original state left him murderous), the mood was light and the conversation easy. It might have been wearing pajamas at the dinner table, or it might have been sitting at a table that united instead of highlighting the division; it might have been seeing the headmaster begin with peppermint mouse, or it might have been the twinkle in his eye, but guards were dropped, and cautiously, a first year Hufflepuff asked a second year Gryffindor if this was to be expected every year. Equally cautiously, a Slytherin Prefect spoke first and said yes, but no, that there was a first time for everything.

The moment passed quickly and he pretended not to see it, but it brought a light to Albus' heart – it was simply said as an answer, and the answer lacked scorn.

When Luna pushed her plate aside and made to stand, he pushed his own away.

"A word before you retire, Miss Lovegood?"

"But of course, Professor."

Instead of Christmas at the castle, she had asked to spend it at Headquarters, and it was a request Albus had granted. She skipped to a rhythm she heard quite clearly, not bothered that it only existed inside her own head. She had drawn runes on her cheek with white and silver eyeliner and they glittered in the corner of her eye - she could have been wraith-like were she not so vibrant. Long minutes passed and she did not speak, and neither did he, but the silence was serene while he escorted her beyond the gates and to the Apparition point

"Take care, my dear, and travel safe. Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light.* Severus will escort you home." He nodded, and the smile that she bestowed upon him was brilliant.

"Thank you, sir. I shall endeavor to find such a friend. Happy Christmas!"

He spent a quiet moment in reflection after she had vanished, and he decided to hope. Christmas was, after all, a time for miracles.

The order to join her peers for Christmas dinner came by an owl and she noted it lacked a signature; this was a snub so insignificant it didn't even chafe against her soul.

It was harder to leave her room than it should have been. The beat of her heart pulsed in her ears and she marveled at the roar. Detached and borderline amused, she cataloged the clinical symptoms of anxiety, and then she boxed them up inside her mind. With a halfhearted sigh, she waged war against her hair because it was a battle she could win and traipsed down the stairs. She paused at the bottom and the smell of baking shook something loose inside her. Without making eye contact, she used raw carrots and built a bridge to the nowhere that spanned across her plate.

"It would be better to put sugar cookies on both sides of your carrots. Flittering Shars prefer the sugar, and they bring good fortune, of course." Luna was serious as she peered over Hermione's shoulder.

Hermione's voice was sharp and somehow ragged when she dragged it across one syllable that was more of a sound than a word. She spun awkwardly, nearly losing her plate when Luna stepped forward and hugged her. There were too many eyes and Hermione felt the weight of them all. Perhaps her anxiety was tangible because Luna touched arm again and it brought her back to the present.

"I've missed you. I heard you haven't been well, and I hope you feel better soon. You look quite pale, and it would probably be best for you to eat, though eating doesn't do much for sadness."

Luna's voice was soft and lilting, and even though the words should have been awkward and the sentences didn't really fit together, it wasn't because it was Luna, and they were words, actually being spoken to her, and the kindness was foreign but it was a balm to her soul. Luna took the plate from her hand, loaded it with cookies and a brownie, and then led her to a corner that was sheltered from the festivities.

"When I was younger, I was often afraid. My mother told me that it was easier not to care about the rest of the people when you knew something they did not. So, I have a secret for you: Professor Snape charmed Professor Dumbledore's undergarments to itch because Professor Dumbledore charmed his robes to be red and green at the dinner table."

For the first time in days (weeks, months) Hermione threw back her head and laughed. She choked on the cookie she hadn't realized she was eating as she snorted and laughed and tried to swallow at the same time.

Luna carried the conversation and picked topics that didn't matter. She talked about rose stems and dandelion tea, about the Giant Squid and her missing shoes. As the minutes passed, so did the peak of Hermione's anxiety, and though she was still tense enough for her shoulders to ache, when Luna asked a question about transfiguration, Hermione forgot she hadn't spoken in weeks, and answered.

*Helen Keller

**Aristotle