Boxing Day At Baker Street

I take real pride in calling myself a true Sherlockian. And when writing this Christmas Sherlock fanfic, I studied how Sir Arthur Conan Doyle wrote John Watson’s writing about his and Holmes’ adventures. I have done my best to replicate this and stay TRUE to the characters as Doyle wrote them. I hope you enjoy this light hearted story! 💛

In all my days of knowing Sherlock Holmes, I have perceived many things. His need for order in all things is both his strength and his weakness (though he would never willingly acknowledge the fault.) His calculating and organized mind is at all times active. 

Like a high speed mechanical device, the many cogs and gears are always turning, keeping the machine alive and working. I, who have been his companion for many a year, often have the opportunity to observe this thinking rotary. Holmes himself calls his brain “an attic” in which he keeps “the tools which may help him in doing his work” and “all in the most perfect order.” However, in my small observations, his brain, which he takes such pride in, has never been so.

As I have said to Holmes many times before, a mortal man cannot rightly decide what he is and is not to know. “It’s not our place,” I say. Yet Holmes chooses to forgo my words and might comment that he is no “mortal man.” 

And on another and more prevalent note, Holme’s mind is anything other than “perfect order.” He values order, yes, and does his best to keep it. But, as is our modern society, order cannot always be kept. And when the inevitability of disorder comes knocking on the door of 221B Baker Street, the place where Holmes and I reside, the former is nothing short of unnerved (I here add “in the best sense of the word” in respect for my friend’s pride.)

Christmas time at Baker Street was a jolly one for those of us who participated. Mrs. Hudson, the landlady of Baker Street, made a roast beef to put Her Majesty’s cooks to shame. The honorable lady (Mrs. Hudson that is, not The Queen) also accompanied me to place a tasteful bouquet on the grave of my late wife, Mary.

All the while, however, Holmes remained in the rooms we shared.

“It is unadulterated foolishness, Watson,” Holmes told me, “To celebrate nothing.”

“Nothing?” I exclaimed. “By Jove, Holmes, Christmas is far from celebrating nothing! Christmas is for the human ability of joy and co-existence. The birth of Christ for His sake!

He raised a sharp eyebrow as a bemused smile began to play on his lips. “As I sad, nothing.”

I was aware of Holmes’ frankly blasphemous thoughts on religion, particularly the one I and the whole of modern England shared. I opened my mouth to defend either the holiday, Christianity, or myself (I had not then decided which) but Holmes spoke before I could. He was rather good at that.

“You are a Christian, Watson, are you not? Then as a Christian attempting to acknowledge this manufactured holiday known as Christmas, you are indeed celebrating nothing. In those days when pagans were the majority, did they not too deck their houses with the evergreen botanicals, such as holly and ivy? I believe these were to keep away the imagined ‘evil spirits.’ And you tell me you do as they did in the name of God? Show me the logic behind this, for I am quite certain that there is none. I do not say I will join in these festivities of religion in which no physical evidence has been produced, for I am no man of faith, but if you feel the need to justify your standing of a Christian who celebrates a pagan Christmas, by all means attempt to prove me wrong.”

I did not retaliate in anger, as many other God fearing Englishmen would have if spoken to by the offensive and disagreeable man before me. I did not roll my eyes, I did not steal a breath, I did not steady my nerves. 

Rather than showing these signs of irritation, I chose to laugh.

Holmes was thoroughly taken aback by my reaction. His head turned sideways slightly and his eyes seemed to take in every feature of my face, pondering the meaning behind my jovial attitude. I recognized the signs of confusion that I often saw when I assisted him in his works of detection and deduction. 

“Why, Holmes,” I said merrily, “You forget that you have told me the exact same speech every year since I first came to Baker Street! My good man, show me the logic in that.” 

“If I have made such an error, which I doubt, it is only because I do not find the memories priority.”

“Or it is because you dislike what I have to say next.”

“And pray tell me what that should be?”

“The same speech in which I have responded, and perfected, I might take the liberty of adding, to your pessimistic diatribe every year in this season.”

I paused and then continued, “It is true that the traditions of Christmas are rooted in less than holy places. I know the history that you have taken the time to explain to me so thoroughly. But allow me to give you a lesson now. Tradition and religion…these are man made and often times artifice. However, even you acknowledge the beauty that God has bestowed upon mankind. I recall you once said to me that “our highest assurance of the goodness of Providence seems to rest in the flowers” and that “it is only goodness which gives extras, and that we have much to hope.” You know there is some higher power, Holmes, do not deny it. And you know that in this world of chaos and ill will there are still those who sew and reap good and praiseworthy values. Mankind is a folly kind, indeed. But on this day, we might folly in a better sort. We might extend a hand to those less fortunate than ourselves and gift that which our very flawed and human hearts lead us to give. There are aspects of beauty in that, no? Why there is even logic enough for you in these things! Now, I’ll allow you to display if you have changed at all in the past year, since the last time I gave you this same lecture. A single remark will do, Holmes. Not one? I thought not. Happy Christmas, good friend.”

And turning away to spare Holmes the slight humiliation of me seeing him at a loss at how to counter, I walked from the room. 

I shall leave him a Boxing Day present by his door tomorrow, I thought with an amused smile in my head.

That night, Mrs. Hudson, myself, and the Misses Hawkins and Hooper, two respectable ladies who shared the flat opposite 221 B, sat in the parlor playing a round of Whist. Miss Hawkins headed the conversation the majority of the time, commenting every so often on the number of Penny Posts she had received from young and eligible men. This was endurable, but only just.

Mrs. Hudson and Miss Hooper were much more versed in polite conversation and the evening had been modestly enjoyable. Though it occurred to me how much more lively the evening might have been had my friend Holmes been there with his uncivil tongue and unpopular ideals. I managed to turn my snigger at the thought into a small cough. 

My mind must have somehow summoned him, because just after the idea had crossed my mind, the devil came through the sitting-room door. 

“My cap, Watson!” He cried, dashing about this way and that. 

“Holmes!” I declared. “Come, sit and join us!”

The three other ladies nodded in agreement with me and invited him to the table in their soft, feminine voices.

Holmes did not seem to hear us. “My cap, it is here somewhere. Watson, find my cap!” 

“Why do you need your deerstalker, fellow? Are you going out?”


“Man, it is freezing outside!”

“That statement would conclude as to why I need my cap! Aha!” He exclaimed with a laugh as he ducked under the table where we had been playing our card game (making the ladies present cry out in surprise.) He came out as soon as he had gone under, however, and brandished his deerstalker cap with a flourish. “Success!” 

He looked at me and at the company I kept, seeing them for the first time. “Ah, people.” 

And with that last statement, he left the room quicker than one could utter “Elementary.”

I apologized for his conduct as I often found myself doing. Mrs. Hudson, who knew Holmes almost as well as I, excused my apology with a smile. Miss Hawkins however asked, “You don’t suppose he’s going caroling?”

I quickly excuse myself from the room as to hide my laughter at the mental image of Sherlock Holmes singing “Oh Come All Ye Faithful.”

I had no plans for Boxing Day. After whatever exertions I had taken on Christmas Day, I often found myself staying inside on the holiday, reading the Strand and enjoying multiple cups of tea. Holmes, whom I had seen the previous night leave the flat with such flurry, had not made an appearance to me since then. And that was most strange seeing as he did so like to torment me on the pointlessness of Boxing Day.

Last year  I had participated in the work of the church in making poor boxes. Mrs. Hudson volunteered her time annually and I thought I might do the same. Holmes immensely enjoyed quoting one of Dickens’ rude misers whenever entering my presence.

Reflecting on this, it was strange that he was not in my view. Had he rushed off on a case? This was uncharacteristic seeing as he wanted for my assistance whether or not I was inconvenienced or not. More often the former than the latter.

I tried to pay the matter little heed. Holmes was as unpredictable as the criminal classes he worked against. 

I spent the hours reading a title which turned out to be easily forgotten and in a few episodes of polite conversation. I was just about to think about luncheon when I heard the front door’s knocker alert me to the presence of a visitor. 

Curious to see if Holmes had spent the whole night away from Baker Street, I opened the door expecting to see the detective. Alas I was mistaken…though not so very much. 

A different genius child stood at the doorstep. I recognized the boy as Wiggins,  a street urchin who was occasionally employed by Holmes. 

He must be here for work, I thought when contemplating the boy’s motives. 

“Is Mister Holmes here, sir?” Wiggins asked, pulling off his wool flat cap and smiling in a way I had not been accustomed to associate with him. 

“No…leastwise, I don’t believe he is.”

“I just wanted to thank him again, sir.” The boy said, excited.

“Thank him?” I inquired. “Whatever for, lad?” 

“For the oranges and half crowns, sir! My family will feast today! Give him my thanks, please, sir?” And in his energetic state, he ran onto the street, kicking up snow as he went and whistling a Christmas tune. 

I stood for a moment, looking down at the place Wiggins had been only moment ago. Then amused realization began to slowly creep up my person. 

Sherlock Holmes…giving gifts to homeless children on Boxing Day? Had my yearly tirade finally made an impression? 

I deduced that Holmes must have been out all night finding the members of his so-called “Baker Street Irregulars” and gifting them with oranges and half crowns. And the reason I had not seen him this morning was consequence of his late evening endeavors. Might he be asleep in his rooms? Or was he still out tracking down those lesser fortunate than himself?

I recalled him saying to me in the case of the Mazarin Stone, “I am a brain, Watson. The rest of me is a mere appendix.” 

Maybe so, Holmes, old friend, I thought, shutting the door against the chilly holiday air, But a heart is in there somewhere as well.

NOTE: This story is NOT a licensed work. The author does not own any copywrite, trademarks and/or license. Absolutely all trademarks, licenses and copyrights are the sole property of the authors and/or publishers. All of this writers works and stories are “fan made”, and are NOT to be assumed as being licensed and/or official work. The production of this story is not intended to mislead or to confuse consumers. No infringement on the publisher/author’s name and trademark are intended. This product is purposed for Fan Fiction only.

Happy Christmas From Hogwarts

I’ve haven’t officially celebrated Christmas for as long as I can remember but I love the holiday season. For the majority of the Advent, people are focused on love and giving. That is something I can truly appreciate. And what represents unconditional and selfless love more than James and Lily Potter? Here is what the Marauders and Co’s last Christmas at Hogwarts looked like, right before they graduated, began their fight against evil, and gave their lives for what they believed and loved…

Snow was falling outside, drifting lazily onto the almost silent Hogwarts grounds. It was the weekend and most of the students were inside the castle, busy getting ready to go to Hogsmead before they went home for the Christmas holidays. The silence outside was almost perfect…


Making his way hastily to the giant oak doors of Hogwarts and swinging his head wildly back and forth to dislodge the amounts of snow that rested on it, James Potter ran into the school. Rushing through the halls, still chill from the freezing temperatures, he made his way to Gryffindor tower, and shouted the password (Humbug) in a voice that was higher than per usual. 

Climbing through the portrait hole and dashing into the room filled with student in black robes and crimson and gold ties, he called out for all to hear,


Most of his fellow Hogwarts students ignored him. Odd behavior had become something to expect from the seventeen year old Potter boy. James’ friends, however, spared him a half glance.

“Nice to hear you finally admit it,” Remus Lupin commented with a bemused smile, returning his full attention to the large castle he was making from Muggle cards.

James walked over to where his friends were sitting, “I’m not kidding! Moony, Marlene, I really need your help!”

Marlene McKinnon raised an eyebrow. Having been previously transfixed on Remus’ card castle progress, James needing her help was something she hadn’t been expecting.

“Woah there, Prongs!” Sirius Black called in an mock offended tone. He too was building a (much sloppier) card castle, but out of Exploding Snap cards to rival Remus’. “Just Moony and Marlene? How come I’m excluded in your hour of need?”

“Yeah, and me!” Peter Pettigrew piped in.

“You couldn’t help a flobberworm cross a street, Wormy,” Sirius chuckled.

“Sirius…” Remus chastised in a cautionary voice.

“Just kidding, sorry!” Though he didn’t sound sorry at all.

James acknowledged his best friend. “Mate, you’re dead useful for a lot of things…but this isn’t gonna be one of them.”

“What’s your problem, James?” Marlene asked, getting up from where she sat next to Remus and plopping onto a plush bean chair nearby.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Asked Remus. “It’s Lily.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Of course.”

James’ face soured. “Hey, hey, now, you can’t just…stereotype me like that. My life does not revolve around that gorgeous red-headed angel of beauty and grace!”

A moment of silence passed. Remus, Marlene, Sirius, and Peter all nodded in agreement. “It’s Lily.”

“Okay, so what? It is Lily!”

“What did you do this time?” Sirius asked.


“That is highly unlikely.”

“No, really, I did nothing!” James whined. “Don’t you see? That’s the problem!”

“No, we don’t see,” Remus said with long suffering, “But if you explain, then we will.”

James opened his mouth to tell them all of the Terrible Horrible No Good Absolutely Troll thing he had done, but before he could say a word, Sirius’ tower of cards exploded in both his, Remus, and Peter’s faces. 

Once the had smoke cleared, once James and Marleen had stifled their laughter, and once the three soot covered boys had coughed up the ash that had made its way inside their mouths and noses, Remus cast a disgruntled look at his own card tower, knocked over from the explosion.

“I still win,” he said, glaring at Sirius.

“You…did what?” 

Remus, Sirius, Peter, Marlene, joined by Mary Macdonald and Frank Longbottom, had their mouths hanging open, starring with wide eyes at James. The boy himself, was looking away from their gazes.

“Oh, come on, you know me! Does it really surprise you?”

“Yeah, actually it does!” Sirius said, his left eye twitching. “How in Merlin’s name could you do something like that?! After all these years?”

Mary nodded, “Even wouldn’t dream you’d be that thoughtless…and I’m not exactly your biggest fan.”

“Don’t beat him up,” Remus said, looking around at his classmates, “I’m sure he feels the pains of what he’s done…I mean what he hasn’t done.”

“I do! But you guys-“ He was interrupted by a loud and forced cough from Marlene, “-and girls, have gotta help me fix it!”

“Can it be fixed though?” Peter asked. “It’s a little late for it now…and if it’s for Lily…”

“Of course it can be fixed!” Frank said, but the fake optimism was obvious. “We still have…twenty four hours before the train leaves?”

“Nineteen, actually,” Remus corrected.

James buried his face in a maroon pillow. “Lily is going to kill me!”

“And why is that?” 

All seven teenagers froze; Sirius in a sort of half grimace-half smirk, Frank in a too-wide smile, Marlene in a strange startled stance, Peter looked like he was about to run from the scene of the crime, Remus had his mouth half open and his eyes wide, and James…James’ face was still half buried in the pillow but what could be seen of his eyes were filled with pure terror.

Frank was the first one to brave moving. “Heeeeeeeeyyyyyyyy, Lily………”

Lily Evans, her lips pursed together in a thin line and a hand on her hip, looked down at the guilty party. “Okay, fess up, what are you all doing?”

“NOTHING!” They all said in unison, save for James who was still in his statuesque state. 

“James? Explanation, please,” she moved her head down and to the side so as to see her boyfriend better. “Why did you say I’m going to kill you? What have you done?” 

James looked at Sirius in fear for a brief second and then turned to face Lily. “Haha, the usual, you know?”

She smiled sternly (how can you smile sternly? Only Lily Evans and Minerva McGonagall shall ever know.) “Hmm…” she eyed him suspiciously. “I would be worried but Mary and Frank are here so…” she looked at the two in question. 

Mary waved a dismissive hand, “Oh, James was just telling us a prank he was planning to do on Lockhart. Sirius here,” she thrust her thumb in Sirius’ direction, “thought that we should get you involved without your knowledge. But James shot it down…like the good boyfriend he is.” 

Everyone looked at Mary with surprise. The lie had flowed so easily from her mouth…it sounded like it might actually be true. 

Lily cast her eyes on Sirius, “You know how I feel about your mindless pranks.” 

Sirius grinned sheepishly. “It was worth a shot-hey! Our pranks are anything but mindless! Do you know the effort we put in those things! It takes a lot of brain work to still be original after seven years of mischief making! And with all the-“

The words were cut off by Remus slapping his hand across Sirius’ mouth. “He means he’s sorry.”

“Nawideeont!” Sirius’ muffled voice said from behind Remus’ hand.

That made Lily laugh. “Thanks, James,” she said as she pressed a kiss on the top of his forehead. “Hey, you want to get on Slughorn’s homework now? I know you aren’t going to do it if I’m not watching you like a hawk.”

James, jumping at the change of subject, smiled back at her. “Yeah…yeah! Totally! To the library then, milady?” He stood up and bowed to Lily, who rolled her eyes.

“After you, sir,” she giggled and waved back at the others. “See you guys!”

The Gryffindors watched Lily and James leave. Before they were out of sight, James mouthed HELP ME. Once they had left the common room, Remus removed his hand from Sirius’ mouth and asked, “To Hogsmead then?”

“To Hogsmead,” they all agreed.

“I can’t believe James didn’t get her a Christmas present,” Peter said a little too loudly.



“It’s freezing out here!” Mary said, rubbing her arms for warmth. “I say we let James face the consequences of his actions and go back to the castle and warm up.” 

The Marauders & Co. had arrived in Hogsmead which was a fair bit colder than Hogwarts. The snow was thinner however, having been trod on by countless of holiday shoppers. There were hundreds of Hogwarts students that could be seen through the shop windows, buying last minute Christmas presents before the trip home the next day. 

Frank was at the head of the group, leading them down the cobblestone path. “We can’t just ditch James…he’d be really disappointed if he wasn’t able to give Lily a present this year. I mean, now that she’s agreed to finally go out with him.” He took off his outer coat and offered it to Mary. “If your cold, you can take this. I don’t really need it.”

Mary placed a hand on her heart and said in a girlie pitch, “Aww, Frank, that is so sweet!” She cast a glance at Marlene.

Marlene shivered and look expectedly at Sirius. When he took no notice of her she bumped into him and said, “Hey, I’m cold too!”

He glanced at her in confusion, “Marlene, I can’t control the weather.”

Remus rolled his eyes, took off his own coat and gave it to Marlene. “Let’s start at Honeyduke’s. I don’t think we’ll find the ‘perfect’ gift that James specified but maybe a few filler gifts would go well?”

They all agreed enthusiastically…what kid wouldn’t take any excuse to go into candy heaven? 

Honeydukes was full of students, as always. 

“We should have waited till tonight,” Peter shouted over the loud chatter of students and constant ringing the entry bell. “The we could have gotten Lily something without all the crowds!”

“Honeydukes isn’t open at night, Wormy!” Sirius pointed out. 


They became inevitably separated in the large store. 

Marlene found herself in the dangerous sweets isle, and she bought several acid pops to give to her younger brother…just for fun. Frank and Mary had rather wisely gone back outside to sit and wait for the rest of the group. Sirius was trying his best to find any kind of prank-like sweet…but he decided he’d have to wait until Zonko’s. Peter got lost. And Remus…You know the expression “like a kid in a candy store”? Well try this one, “like Remus Lupin in Honeydukes.”

Remus made his way to the front counter with a great amount of difficulty. The shop boy took one look at him and called over his shoulder, “Hey! It’s Crazy Chocolate Guy!”

“I do have a name,” Remus mumbled. 

A large woman walked over to the counter and the shop boy left to help other customers. “Well, what can I do for you…again?”

“Do you have any new shipments?” Remus asked with a polite smile.

“You cleared us out of the Caramel Dark Chocolate Brownie Fudge Toffee Bars. I can put you on the waiting list though.” 

“Oh, no thank you, ma’am, I’m stocked up for the holidays. But I would like to know if there are any candies that haven’t been released into the main shop yet.” 

The woman smiled. “And why would I let you purchase what I haven’t made public to my own shop?”

“Because…I’m your best customer?” He said hopefully. 

She considered him in amusement for a second and then she told him to wait a moment. Remus decided that if she was getting what he thought she was getting, he would buy himself a victory slab of Pumpkin Spice Caramel Marbled Creme Chocolate…or maybe a victory crate…

“So, what’ve we got?” Mary asked, rubbing her gloved hands together at the sight of their shopping bags.

“Acid pops!” Shouted Marlene, waving her bag high in the air.

Mary exchanged glances with Frank. “Er…” Frank winced, “you bought acid pops…for Lily Evans?”

“Pfft, no, stupid! For my annoying little brother. Why would I get them for Lily?”

“Well, seeing as you were supposed to buy Lily some stocking stuffers…” Frank trailed off.

Marlene slapped her forehead. “Oh, Merlin, I forgot!”

Sirius looked down at his bags. “Me too.”

“I got her a candy cane…” Peter said.

“So you guys didn’t get her anything?” Mary said, shaking her head.


Everyone turned to Remus who had spoken. He carried two large crates in his hands. “You think this is all for me?” 

“Yes,” Sirius said looking at the bulging boxes.

“Very funny. Not even I could eat this much chocolate by myself.” 

Peter scratched his head, “I’m pretty sure you could.”

Remus did a mental face palm (seeing as his physical palms were full of chocolate). “Anyways, we are covered on sweets. I got her the new Strawberry Bourbon Mousse White Chocolate bars…they aren’t supposed to be released until February. And James now owes me five galleons.” 

“Impressive!” Mary gave him a small round of applause.

“Where to now?” Peter asked.

“Zonko’s!” Sirius said. 

“The bookstore!” Remus said.

“What?” They both asked each other.

“Bookstores are so BORING!” 

“Lily hates Zonko’s, Padfoot.”

“She doesn’t hate it, she said so herself!”

“Right, I think the word she used was ‘deplore.’”

“Which isn’t the same as hate!”

“Your grasp on vocabulary is obviously lacking.”

“Girls, girls, you’re both pretty!” Marlene interceded. “We aren’t going to Zonko’s or the bookstore. I think Lily definitely doesn’t want dungbombs or books from her boyfriend.”

“But Lily loves to read,” Frank commented.

“Yeah, because she’s weird like that, but if we got her books it’d be obvious that James didn’t buy them. He would rather be caught in a Slytherin uniform than in a bookstore.”

Remus nodded, “True enough.”

Sirius kicked a pile of snow. “But I wanna go to Zonko’s.”

“You can go later, okay?” Mary offered. “What’s in those bags anyway?” She leaned over to try and peak inside Sirius’ Honeydukes bags.

Sirius snatched them away from her. “Hey! I need to shop for Christmas presents too!”

Several hours later, the Gryffindors were dropping off. After they had bought Lily a year long self-refillable Butterbeer glass from the Three Broomsticks (James now owed them eight galleons and three sickles), Mary gave Frank his coat back and said she needed to finish some homework back at the castle. A fourth of the way down an especially long detour they had taken so Remus didn’t have to pass the Shrieking Shack, Peter complained that his legs were getting tired and he headed back. Finally, after they had bought Lily an advanced potions kit (complete with unicorn hair and a golden cauldron…James now owed them sixteen galleons, seven sickles, and three knuts) Marlene said that she had to meet up with Dorcas Meadows.

“You think we got enough?” Frank asked, sitting down in the snow and resting his present laden arms.

“Duh! The only thing we didn’t buy her was the Beatles!” Sirius said.

“I don’t know…” Remus cast his eyes over the presents they had gotten for James to give to Lily. “Why do I feel we’re missing something?”

“Same,” Frank frowned.

“Missing something? You’re joshing me! We bought her more than Prince Charles gets on Christmas!” 

“I think you’re overestimating how many presents Prince Charles gets. Shush now, I need to think,” Remus put down his crates of chocolate and rested his head in his hands.

“Fine,” Sirius growled, crossing his arms the best that he could, seeing as they were covered in shopping bags.

A few seconds passed and Remus turned on Sirius, “Really? Can you stop whining? We are trying to help our best friend!”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You kept making that noise-“

“Both of you, shh!” Frank raised his hands. “I don’t think that was Sirius you heard, Remus.”

All three boys became quiet. 

“I don’t hear anything,” Sirius whispered.

“I do,” Remus muttered leaning his head to the left, straining to hear…whatever he heard. 

Another moment passed and then Frank and Sirius heard it too, a soft mewing from a distance. 

Remus, forgetting the chocolate on the ground, jogged down the path. Frank too left behind his bags and closely followed him.

Sirius stood alone and yelled after them, “Oh, come on, your gonna make me…oh, fine!” After that he promptly dropped his bags and ran. 

Once he caught up with them, he saw Frank crouching on the ground near a tree, Remus standing over him and leaning over to see…

…a kitten.

“Merlin,” Sirius muttered. “It’s a cat!”

“Yeah, we can see that, Padfoot,” Remus chuckled, still looking at the small animal. “So stay over there and don’t scare it away.”

“I’m not going to scare it.”

“Yeah, you would, Padfoot.” He put emphasis on the last word.

Oh, right, I’m a dog. Sirius remembered. He almost reminded Remus that he was a werewolf and could scare the kitten too, but he thought it best to let it slide.

“It doesn’t have a collar,” Frank said. “And it’s really skinny,” he looked up at them, “Guys, I think it’s abandoned.” 

“Aww,” Remus and Sirius fawned in unison.

Frank picked up the kitten and brushed some snow off of it. He smirked knowingly at Remus who nodded back in agreement.

“Well, great we got a free kitten.” Sirius said. “But we still got to find Lily another present, according to you two overachievers!” 

Frank and Remus blinked at Sirius. 


“Merry Christmas, idiots!” 

“Sirius Orion Black, if you drop that dungbomb-“

And that is how they ended up spending Christmas in the Transfiguration classroom.

The majority of the seventh year students had stayed at Hogwarts for the holidays. For the most part, sentiment had gotten the better of them…it would be their last Christmas at Hogwarts.

Lily had planned to invite James over to her family’s house for Christmas, which is why he had panicked last minute, but received a letter from her mother saying that Lily’s sister, Petunia, was having her boyfriend over as well.

Needless to say, Lily changed her mind. 

Since James was staying, Sirius was staying too. Remus had to stay (the full moon was the day after Christmas) but would have chosen to celebrate with his friends anyway. And Peter was staying because everyone else was.

Minerva McGonagall had decorated her classroom spectacularly for the occasion. Taking into consideration that this particular body of students could get into all kinds of trouble, she thought it best to supervise them. And since Sirius had dropped a nasty dungbomb in the common room, she had moved the festivities to her classroom. 

Under the magnificent Christmas tree, cut and hauled by Rubeus Hagrid and decorated by McGonagall and Phineas Flitwick, was a multitude of brightly colored Christmas presents. Usually the Christmas presents were delivered to the student’s dorm room but this year McGonagall had made special arrangements. Even she had to (very silently) admit that she would miss this band of misfits after they graduated.

“She’d never admit she’d miss us,” Dorcas told Lily and Mary, “But she will.”

“Ah, good ol’ Minnie!” Sirius said, startling the girls by hanging upside down in midair, “I got her something real special for Christmas.”

“You got Professor McGonagall a present?” Lily asked. “Really? You?”

“That’s really nice of you, Sirius.” Mary encouraged. “What’d you get her?”

“A basket full of dungbombs-ow!” He rubbed his head. Lily had smacked it with the new pair of shoes Mary had bought her. 

“Mr. Black, get down!” McGonagall called from across the room.

“Can’t, Minnie! It’s James that’s charmed me!” 

“Here you go!” James flicked his wand and Sirius fell head first in the ground which made the Mary and Dorcas burst into laughter. Lily bit back a smile and yelled “James!” in disapproval. “Come on, over here, Padfoot!”

Sirius got up quickly, shook his mane of hair, put on his best “charming smile”, winked, and headed to where James stood.

“Hey, where’s the cat?” He asked his friends.

“Under there of course,” James pointed to the floor under the tree.

Peter panicked. “You didn’t put it in a box, did you! It needs air!”

“Don’t worry, Wormy,” Remus reassured him. “I cast a Bubble Head Charm on it and put holes in the box just in case.”

“You didn’t think we’d torture the poor thing, did you? Really, who do think we are?” James laughed. “By the way, if you just got the cat, what took you all so long when you were shopping?”

“Oh…that…well…” Sirius looked at Remus. 

“We did buy Lily a few things before we got the cat but…” Remus trailed off.

“But,” Sirius finished, “But you owe us eleven galleons and seven sickles for the stuff that got stolen.”


“We dropped our stuff to find the cat and when we came back it was gone, okay?”

“Eleven gallons…” James shook his head. He looked at each of the Marauders in turn. “You guys had better gotten me something good for Christmas!”

“We all know Wormy got us socks,” Sirius said.

“That was supposed to be a secret!” Peter said. “How’d you find out?”

“Wormtail, you’ve give us socks every year. But that doesn’t mean we don’t appreciate them.” Remus smiled.

“What about you two, then?” James inquired. “It better be something good.”

“I think Sirius beat me this year, actually. Mine’s over there.”

James followed where Remus directed him and picked up a gift with snitches flying around the wrapping paper. “A book? Really? Haven’t you given up trying to get me to read yet?”

“Just open it, okay?”

James ripped open the paper. “Okay, this is actually cool.” It was a a collector’s copy of Quidditch Through the Ages.

Remus shrugged. “You’ve practically destroyed the copy in the library, you’ve checked it out so many times. I thought you should have your own.” 

“Thanks, man!” 

Sirius glanced over at Lily. “Looks like your girlfriend’s opening her friend’s present first. We got time. Open mine, James!” 

James obeyed, readily. “The heck is this, mate?” He held up a box containing a quill set and ink bottle. 

“Now wait a sec, that isn’t just a quill set.” Sirius said, smirking. “I nicked those from Dumbledore’s office.”

James’ mouth dropped open. “THESE ARE DUMBLEDORE’S QUILLS?!?!” He hugged the box to his chest. “I feel closer to greatness already!” 

The gift giving continued. Remus had given Sirius a collection of David Bowie albums and a book on motorcycles. Sirius had been right, Peter gave them all socks but had also thrown in a few chocolate frogs. 

“Remus, open ours now!” James said with excitement. 

“Ours?” Remus asked looking between James and Sirius. 

“We both chipped in,” Sirius said.

“Let me guess, is is chocolate?”

“Just open it.”

Remus reached under the tree to where his friends had pointed and literally had to heave the package out. “If this is chocolate, it’s a world breaking record.” He carefully opened the wrappings and was speechless.

“We bought it ages ago,” James grinned. “Got it at Dervish and Banges.” 

It was a briefcase with PROFESSOR R.J. LUPIN embossed on the side.

Sirius and James watched their friend’s reaction. “You know,” James said, “because you want to be a teacher here, right?”

“You know I’ll never be able to.” Remus said quietly.

“Never say never, Remus.” The boys turned to see Lily standing behind them. “I’m assuming the briefcase is filled with chocolate?” 

“But of course,” James leaned over Remus and opened it to reveal extensive Honeydukes sweets. When he sat up he said “Lily, it’s your turn.”

“You got me something?” She sounded surprised. “Dorcas said you would forget…in fact, everyone said you would forget.”

“Me? Forget getting you a gift for Christmas? Never!” James looked sheepishly at her and shifted his glance from his friends to Lily and back again. 

She raised an eyebrow at him. “…you did forget didn’t you?”

James’ smile faltered. “Why would you think that?”

“Mary is rubbish at keeping secrets.” 

“Busted…” Sirius muttered.

“But I remembered that I forgot!” James looked around, waiting to be complimented on his thoughtfulness. “Doesn’t that count for something? Here!”

He reached under the tree and pulled out a large box wrapped in Gryffindor colors. She eyed the box. “It isn’t from Zonko’s, is it?” 

“No!” James affirmed.

She inspected the box closer. “Are those…air holes?” She gasped and then opened the wrapping and box. “Oh, James!” 

She pulled out the kitten that Remus, Frank, and Sirius had found in Hogsmead. It mewed softly at Lily, licking at her fingers. All the girls nearby huddled around Lily and squealed with pleasure at the small creature. 

“Ooh! Lily! What are you going to name it!” Mary asked, scratching the kitten’s ears. 

“I don’t know. Is it a boy or girl, James?” She looked up at him.

“Er…no idea,” he looked at Remus. “Moony?”

He smiled, “It’s a girl, Lily.”

“Hm…what do you guys think? What should her name be?”

Names began pouring in from all directions. 


“Minnie…after McGonagall!”

“David Bowie!”

“That’s a boy’s name, Sirius.”

“It’s an epic name.”



“How about Agape?” Lily asked James.

He shrugged. “It’s your cat, name her whatever you want.” 

“What is agape?” Sirius asked, his brow knitting together.

“It’s Greek, if I’m not mistaken.” Remus informed them. “It means love. More specifically unconditional, selfless love. Usually used in terms of God’s love or the love between a parent and child.”

“That’s deep,” Marlene said.

Lily cuddled with the kitten. James watched and nodded with approval.“Agape. I think it’s a good name. I mean, isn’t that what Christmas is all about? Unconditional love?”

Lily looked up at him and smiled lovingly. “Unconditional love isn’t just a Christmas thing. It should be a life long thing.”

And she was right. Agape would be life long for all of them.

NOTE: This story is NOT a licensed work. The author does not own any copywrite, trademarks and/or license. Absolutely all trademarks, licenses and copyrights are the sole property of the authors and/or publishers. All of this writers works and stories are “fan made”, and are NOT to be assumed as being licensed and/or official work. The production of this story is not intended to mislead or to confuse consumers. No infringement on the publisher/author’s name and trademark are intended. This product is purposed for Fan Fiction only.

Slytherins and Why They Can’t Loose

Why is it that Slytherins put so much expectation on themselves? And I’m not just talking about good grades or bright futures. But when they think something, even in passing, it sticks like Spell-o-tape. If they have an opinion of themselves or others they will do anything to prove that said opinion is right. The only thing about Slytherins is that when they are really tested do their true natures come out, no matter what they think, their real selves are revealed. And that can be negative or positive. Or both. Slytherins are people of action but their thought processes have a lot of influence on how they act. This combination of overthinking and overdoing tends to lead their days like this…


Regulus Black woke up with a start to the sound of his name being yelled with the utmost fury. You haven’t woken up on the wrong side of the bed until you have woken up to Felix Rosier screaming your name in a frenzied fury. 

At first, Regulus did nothing, just remained laying down. Then Rosier’s voice met his ears unpleasantly again. “BLACK!” His voice was becoming clearer, yet Regulus still did not move.

He felt a rush of air next to his head as his four poster curtain was opened. 

“Black,” Rosier grunted in disdain. “Explain!”

Opening his eyes finally and seeing Rosier standing above him, Regulus said in a bored voice, “‘splain what?”

Rosier pointed at the dormitory door as if this explain his mania. Most unwillingly, Regulus sat up to see what all the fuss was about. 

After getting dressed, Regulus, escorted by Rosier, went down to the Slytherin common room. At first glance it was easy to see what had made all this commotion.

The common room, which was normally dawned with the green and black colors of Slytherin and lit with the green reflections of the Black Lake, was…unusual this morning. 

The traditional grim decoration had all been replaced. In their place were crimson and gold banners, lion crests, bright lanterns and floating candles. 

Regulus closed his eyes and sighed in irritation. “Why would you think this is my fault…oh, that’s why.”

On one of the walls was a banner with the message;


“Idiots,” Regulus muttered, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and frowning. 

“How in Salazar’s name did your blood traitor brother and his menace friends get in here?” Rosier glared at Regulus. “Unless you let them in, you little-“

“I didn’t let them in, alright? I hate them.” 

Severus Snape, a fifth year, was vanishing red and gold glitter from the walls. He spoke in the third year’s defense.“Regulus would no sooner allow Gryffindors entry than I would, Rosier,” Snape said in a calm monotone though his face was livid at the sight of the “Marauders” vandalism. 

Regulus shot Snape a contemptuous glance but the other neither noticed nor cared. Rosier looked at the both of them before announcing, “I’m telling Slughorn that they broke into the dorms…again!” He growled. “I have my eyes on you, Black. You too, Snape.”

Once he left in pursuit of Slughorn, Snape rolled his eyes. “Prefects.”

“I don’t need you speaking to Rosier on my behalf,” Regulus spat at Snape. “So keep your big nose out of my business”

“How much like your brother you sound. I suppose the family resemblance goes farther than looks.”

“I’m nothing like my brother and…” Regulus’ comebacks died halfway through. He wasn’t all that great at back talk. 

Snape raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“You’ve got glitter on your robes,” Regulus said, hoping it sounded insulting. He turned and walked back up to his dormitory, leaving Snape.

“We just can’t tolerate this any longer!” Rosier was giving a pep talk to the Slytherin table. Regulus listened half heartedly, spooning his oatmeal and letting it fall back into his bowl. “This is the fifth time. The fifth time! If they walk all over us like this, when will it stop?”

Bellatrix, Regulus’ cousin (much to his dislike), fingered her wand and smirked, “I could take care of them if you just let me.” 

Avery, who sat next to her, inched away warily. 

“I say we give them a taste of their own medicine,” Mulciber interjected. “See how it feels to be on the receiving end of petty tricks.”

Several students nodded in agreement. Regulus himself felt up to the idea, though doubtful. Gryffindors were supposed to be the mischievous ones, not Slytherins. Slytherins were more cross me and die. If something like this got carried too far, it could end up dangerous. 

“We could get into their common room!” Avery piped. “Mess with their stuff!”

“One problem,” Regulus pointed out, “We don’t know their password.” 

Rosier looked at him. “So how did they find out our’s, pipsqueak?”

Regulus shrugged his shoulders. “How should I know?”

“He’s your brother,” Bellatrix leered. 

“And he’s your cousin, Bella,” Regulus countered.

She snarled animal like in return. Regulus grinned. “We always have such lovely conversation.” He turned to Avery. “There’s no way we can get past that fat lady picture, no Gryffindor would give us the password. Unless Snape’s got Veritaserum on him.”

Every head turned to the boy in question. It took Snape a moment to realize everyone was waiting for him to answer.

“Don’t be thick,” Snape drawled. “Veritaserum is classified as a professional exclusive potion. Such mixtures cannot be brewed without regulation in Hogwarts.”

“There goes that idea,” Avery muttered in disappointment.

The Slytherins ate in silence. Soon, Sirius, the blood traitors Pettigrew and Potter, along with that son-of-a-Muggle Lupin, went walking by their table. 

Without much effort, Mulciber aimed his wand at Sirius. “Levicorpus.”

Turned upside down and hung by his ankles in the air, Sirius cursed and threw a croissant he had been holding at Mulciber.

Potter was laughing jovially but ceased once he saw that the Slytherins were doing the same. 

“No magic in the Great Hall,” Lupin said strictly as he helped his friend down. “Three points from Slytherin.” 

“Come on, Moony,” Sirius said, sticking his tongue out at Mulciber. “Make it an even five.”

“Lucky you have a prefect to hide behind,” Regulus snapped. “Aye, Sirius?”

His brother glanced at him but looked away just as quickly. The look on Sirius’ face made Regulus’ insides twist. 

“Back off, Reg,” Potter said. “Anyway, how’s your common room doing? Nice glitter, by the way, Snivillus.”

Snape glared at Potter but ignored him. Wisely in Regulus’ opinion. 

“You’ll pay for our common room, the lot of you,” Rosier said. “You can bet on that.”

Potter laughed. “All you know are Dark spells and how to sneer. Good luck getting back at us.”

Lupin shepherded them away from the Slytherin’s. Regulus watched as they left. 

There was little Regulus was truly thankful for. But in that small list was this; he was thankful he was not in his brother’s year. Facing him every single day, even having to interact with him, was something he could never do. 

It was different when they younger. Regulus had once looked up to Sirius. There was a time when he wanted nothing more than to be just like his elder brother. When he began to grow up his attention divided between Sirius and their parents. Somewhere along the way, that brotherly affection was diverted. Somewhere along the way he gave into the ideology that was taught to him from infancy, and could never understand why Sirius didn’t believe what him and their parents believed.

Regulus was more perceptive than he let on. He was aware of the real reason he didn’t want to face Sirius. He knew that if he faced Sirius, he would have to make jibes at Sirius and his friends’ blood status. Would have to hex them and sneer at their moral compasses. And why? To confirm his place in Slytherin, as a pure-blood, and as a supporter of the Dark Arts. 

He had been doing this for so long, he wasn’t sure if he actually believed what he said he did. But it didn’t matter. It was too late for him to change. If he changed, he would be rejected from the status he had put so much faith in. 

He would rather be the persecutor than the persecuted.

These thoughts shot through his mind for a split second but he pushed them aside just as quickly. He did this several times a day. His conscience would not allow otherwise. 


The voice echoed through the nearly empty hallway of Regulus’ way to class. It took a short moment for Regulus to remember the latest Gryffindor v. Slytherin prank war. And Regulus didn’t duck in time.

He spun around to face Marlene McKinnon, who’s wand was out and who’s mouth was split into a greatly amused smile. Sirius, who was next to her, was practically barking with laughter. “Nice hair, Regulus!”

Regulus growled and caught sight off the end of his hair from the corner of his eye.

The strands, once a deep raven, were now a bright bubble gum pink. 

He pulled out his own wand to retaliate but it was too late. Sirius and the McKinnon girl had already run off.

“This isn’t going to work,” Regulus muttered to Snape. They were in free period and on a mission to get back at the four troublemakers. 

“It will work. Trust me,” Snape said. 

Regulus looked at him. “Why would I trust you? You’re not my friend.”

“Of course not. Just do it.”

Regulus rolled his eyes. “You better be right or I’ll hex you.”

“I’m terrified. Now go.”

Regulus walked away, glaring at Snape as he went. He headed towards his brother and his friends who were near the Black Lake, goofing around. 

“Hey, Lupin!” Regulus called. 

The Gryffindors looked his way.

Lupin, confused, answered. “Yes?”

“Just ignore him, Remus,” Sirius muttered.

“You can do a corporeal Patronus right?” Regulus asked. “We learned about them in class and someone told me you were the only kid in school who could do one.”

Pettigrew glanced between Regulus and Lupin. Lupin nodded, starring at Regulus quizzically. “Yes, I can produce a Patronus. But I’m sure Slughorn could too, if you’re curious about them…”

“Could you do one right now?” Regulus asked. He wasn’t sure why Snape said this was the way to get back at them.

“You’re a git, you know that?” Sirius spat at Regulus.

“I just want to see if he could do it,” Regulus said, surprised this was actually working.

“W-well, he doesn’t want to!” Pettigrew defended.

“I don’t think I asked you,” Regulus looked at Lupin. “Well?”

“I’d rather not…”

Snape came up from behind Regulus. “And why not, I wonder?” 

“Shove off, Snivillus,” Potter said, taking out his wand. “Or do you fancy being strung up by your ankles?”

“It’s an innocent question,” Snape said, smirking. “Lupin? Could we see a Patronus?”

Lupin’s gaze shifted. He took out his wand. “Expecting Patronum.” A small silver light came from his wand. Several people nearby clapped. They had attracted a crowd.

“We meant a corporeal Patronus,” Snape said.

“Too bad, that’s all he can do,” Sirius’ face was absolutely livid.

“No, I asked if he could do a full bodied one before and he said yes,” Regulus countered.

“Come on, Remus!” Shouted Marlene, who had joined the crowd around them, “Go on!”

“Let’s just go…” Pettigrew said under his breath.

Sirius and Potter stood on either side of Lupin, looking daggers at Regulus and Snape. Regulus felt that this might have gone too far.

Snape turned his head to the side. “Why can’t you just show us, Lupin? What have you got to hide?”

Lupin looked around at the others, all starring curiously. He looked at the ground and waved his wand whilst closing his eyes. “Expecting Patronum.”

A large hulking animal shot out of his wand. Snape’s smile grew even more satisfied while Potter and Sirius’ frowns deepened with dislike. Regulus caught sight of the Patronus; a wolf. It cantered in and out of the student’s legs and stopped to howl once.

Once the Patronus faded, the students clapped and patted Remus on the back before dispersing. 

“Thank you,” Snape jeered. “That was more than satisfactory…very educational.”

Potter advanced on Snape and shoved him backwards. “Dumbledore made you promise, you greasy bat!”

“What’s going on?” Regulus asked, genuinely confused and even concerned. 

Snape took out his wand and pointed it at Potter threateningly. “Go ahead,” he dared.

“James,” Lupin warned though he did not look up. 

Potter looked at Lupin and took a step back from Snape. “I told Evans I wouldn’t fight him.”

“Well I didn’t!” Sirius roared as he stepped forward and swung a punch at Snape.

“Sirius!” Regulus, Lupin, Potter, and Pettigrew all cried in unison. 

Levicorpus!” Snape cried, flicking his wand at Sirius.

“Oh, not again!” 

For the second time that day Sirius hung in midair. Regulus went forward to help but-

“Stop!” Potter roared at him, pushing him back. “Go on!”

Regulus looked to Snape, but the other Slytherin was already trudging away. Walking slowly backwards, his eyes still on the four Gryffindors, Regulus made his way warily to the castle.

Regulus felt like jinxing himself. It wasn’t as if any real harm had been done. Nothing all that serious at happened. So why was he so on edge about it?

It was the looks on Sirius face that had taken hold of him. Not looks of dislike, but of disappointment and even surprise that his little brother turned against him. And acceptance that this was how Regulus really was and there was nothing Sirius could do about it. Regulus saw that face often and it hurt all the more each time.

If he asked me to change, would I do it? Regulus wondered. I’d want to say yes…but I’d never give him the satisfaction. He sat in the Slytherin common room (now reversed to its original state) pondering this and becoming even more depressed just thinking about it.

What a tangled web we weave, he thought. 

The moment he saw Snape, he stood up and approached him. “That wasn’t a prank. What was that?”

Snape looked at him, expressionless, and walked away.

Regulus seethed. “Snivillus!” He called after him in contempt.

He heard laughter behind him and turned. Rosier, Avery, and Mulciber had just entered the room.

“You’ll never guess what we just did!” The heckled.

Regulus caught sight of green and silver glitter speckled on their robes and couldn’t help but smile. “Oh no…”

The next morning, the Gryffindors woke up to find their common room quite changed…

Gryffindors And Their Bad Days

Gryffindors have complex personalities, just like the rest of the Hogwarts Houses. Besides being brave and true, they are also headstrong and ambitious. They often expect too much of themselves but never appreciate the little things. Gryffindors live higher paced lives than the other Houses and can easily miss the little things in life. They too often envision the big picture but overlook the significance of the now. They are quick to resent, rarely relent, and judge situations quickly. But when given insights, they readily accept truth and positivity. Here is what a normal day looks like for a typical Gryffindor…

A soft rustling woke Seamus Finnigan up, which was not unusual. He didn’t have to look outside his four poster to know what the noise had been. Ron and Harry were sneaking out…again. Seamus, Dean, and Neville had all gotten way over stopping them after four years of school together. 

Several whispers, recognizably Harry and Ron’s voices, could be heard. Seamus sat up. Had Dean been woken up? Probably. Once he heard the footsteps, followed by the door closing, he sat up and moved one of his curtains. 

An idea, not brilliant but not bad either occurred to him and he smirked. Swinging his legs off the bed, and stretching for a second, he grabbed a pillow and crept over to Dean’s four poster. 

The sound of soft snoring was coming from the other side of the room and Seamus sent Neville a quick apology before-

Seamus ripped open the curtains as fast as he could and raised the pillow into the air, ready to slam it across Dean’s sleeping form. However, he wasn’t quick enough. 

Aguamenti!” Seamus’ best friend’s voice was audible just before water shot straight at his face. 

Seamus yelped and brought up a hand in an attempt to guard himself from the water, but it was too late. He was soaked. 

Dean laughed loudly and Seamus cursed. They had been in the same perpetual prank wars for two years, and Dean always seemed to get the upper hand. 

“Could you let me get one on you once, mate?” Seamus said, starting to chuckle as he shook his head violently, sending water drops across the room.

Dean threw the pillow Seamus had dropped back at him. “And miss that stupid look on your monkey face? Never.”

“Guuuyssss,” came Neville’s sleepy moan from his bed.

“Sorry, Neville!” Dean and Seamus said together, laughing and not sorry at all.

Breakfast was a dull affair. There were no good subjects to look forward to, like Defense Against the Dark Arts or Charms. History of Magic was on Seamus’ schedule followed by Double Potions…yay. And even worse, he hadn’t seen a single Quidditch match let alone a single broomstick since the World Cup (Go Lynch!).

“I miss Quidditch,” he grumbled as he swallowed his toast. 

Dean rolled his eyes, “I know, you’ve told me only a hundred times.”

“Well, I do!” 

“The Triwizard Tournament is ten times as exciting as Quidditch-“

“Bite your tongue!” Seamus interrupted, scandalized. 

Dean didn’t bother to finish, knowing Seamus was not one to back down. Instead he waved at someone over Seamus’ shoulder. 

“Hey, Ginny!”

Don’t come over, don’t come over, don’t come over! Seamus repeated in his head. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t like Ginny. She was dead nice and worth a good laugh, but Dean had gotten into the habit of inviting her into every single conversation and it was a bit annoying. A lot annoying. Very annoying. Forget it, he was livid about it these days.

Ginny obviously wasn’t a legilimens, seeing as she didn’t hear Seamus’ mental cry for her to ignore them. That or she just didn’t care.

“Hey Dean, hey Seamus,” she walked over and caught sight of Lee Jordan, who was sitting next to them. “Lee,” she nodded politely.

“Hey, Ginny,” Seamus said in a monotone. 

Dean didn’t notice the unenthusiastic voice, but Ginny did. Because of course.

She smirked, “Bad morning, Seamus?”

Seamus couldn’t help but smile. Ginny was a sport. “You’d be in a bad mood to if you were having Quidditch withdrawals.”

“Tell me about it!” She said, sitting next to him, across from Dean, and grabbing a nearby croissant. “And I was going to try out for the team this year.”

“Really?” Dean asked, interested. 

Ginny nodded but said no more, choosing to eat her food. Lee decided to join the conversation in her silence. 

“Keeper, right? You were going to try for Keeper now that Wood’s gone?”

Seamus considered Ginny as a Keeper. He couldn’t see her as a Keeper. A Seeker, maybe, but Harry was already the perfect Seeker and that was something no Gryffindor would deny.

Ginny nodded but shrugged her shoulders in response to Lee. “Ron would have killed me though. He’s wanted to be on the team ever since Harry got in in their first year. It’s a Weasley tradition, being on the team.”

Lee nodded, then said. “But you could break that seeing as your-“ 

Seamus and Dean both turned their heads to him. Rest In Peace, he thought as he crossed his chest as if rebuking something sacrilegious. Ginny’s eyes turned to slits, daring Lee to day another word.

“Since you’re the YOUNGEST!” Lee finished in defense to Seamus, Dean’s, and now Ginny’s own (frankly frightening) look. “I was going to say since you are the youngest!”

Dean started laughing and Seamus shook his head. Ginny continued to look daggers at Lee, who had ducked his head down. 

Once finished eating, Seamus said his goodbyes to the others and set off back to the dormitories. Dean, though he had finished his plate, stayed, animatedly talking with Ginny about the Weird Sisters. 

It was bound to happen sometime, his best friend finding a girl’s attention more engaging than his own. He was pretty sure Harry, who kept company mostly with Ron and Hermione Granger, didn’t realize he was the third wheel in their group. 

He let the reverie pass. He wasn’t one to hold Dean’s crush against him. His only worry was that Dean would talk Quidditch with Ginny instead of himself.

“Parkinson and Patil…Goyle and Thomas…Granger and Brown…” Professor Snape’s drawl echoed around the silent and dark dungeon walls, listing off pairs of students to work on the day’s overly complicated potion. “Malfoy and Weasley…” 

Seamus heard Ron, who stood next to him, curse. Better you than me, he thought, smiling a little guiltily as Ron picked up his potion ingredients and cauldron and went to where Malfoy was sitting. He cast a gloomy look back at the Gryffindor’s as Malfoy began to mutter something to Ron that they couldn’t hear. 

“Finnegan and…Mr. Potter.”

Snape took a good twenty seconds to drown out the last two words, glaring at Harry all the while. Seamus groaned. Next to Malfoy, Harry was the worst partner to have in Potions. 

It wasn’t that Harry wasn’t a good friend, quite the contrary when he wasn’t getting into trouble, but he wasn’t the best student. Especially in Potions. Snape and Harry had their own special civil war and more often than not, innocent Gryffindors got caught in the crossfire. Usually Ron.

Being paired with Harry was a sure way to get points taken from you by Snape, a minimum of twenty per lesson. The chances of detention were raised by a whopping sixty percent. On top of that, Harry was dead awful at Potions so any effort was basically pointless.

“Hey Seamus,” Harry greeted, not really looking at him as he unloaded his cauldron.

“Hey-ya, Harry,” Seamus replied, slightly awkwardly. 

They started out in silence, writing down Snape’s instructions on their pieces of parchment. Seamus missed a few of the steps that Snape had said too quickly. He wasn’t about to ask him to repeat it. Hopefully, one of the Slytherins would ask.  Alas, no such luck. 

“Hey, Harry, did you catch what we do after simmering the toad’s brains?” He asked in an undertone as the rest of the students in the dungeon began to heat their cauldron’s.

Harry looked up, as if interrupted from a reverie. “What?” He asked.


Ever since he had somehow snuck his name into the Goblet of Fire (Seamus and Dean were still debating how he did it), Harry was distracted all the time. It wasn’t as if he had been the most social person to begin with, but now chances of talking to him was slim to none if your name wasn’t Ron or Hermione.

Out of the corner of his eye, Seamus noticed Hermione and Lavender Brown. Hermione was standing over the hot cauldron, hair wild, and concentrating as she carefully added a few drops of this and a dash of that. Lavender meanwhile was sitting nowhere near her partner, and reading something under the table. Witch Weekly if Seamus were to guess.

“And what…is…this?” 

The potion master’s voice made Seamus drop the dried mandrake leaves he had been holding. He didn’t have time to answer before Harry’s defiant voice came from beside him.

“Sleeping Draught, Professor,” the disdain in his voice dripped of dislike. Seamus glanced around for the nearest escape route.

“Really?” Answered Snape skeptically. “A Sleeping Draught contains the bark of aspen and is never heated beyond boiling point. Now, tell me Mr. Potter, is this a Sleeping Draught?”

Silence hung in the air. Seamus caught Dean’s eye and his friend mouthed “uh oh” from across the room. 

“We’re not done yet, sir,” Seamus cringed at Harry’s sarcasm.

“Is…that…so…?” The pauses between Snape’s words felt like walking up to the gallows. “If you and Mr. Finnegan are so…confident in your abilities…” His dark eyes fell on Seamus who forced a weak smile. “Twenty points will be taken from Gryffindor if this potion is not perfection by the end of the lesson.”

“How are we supposed to get the potion right if you don’t even teach us properly?” The words came out of Seamus’ mouth before he could stop them. 

Snape’s eyes burrowed into him. The following silence was worse than the previous one, stretching into a thousand eternities. 

Finally, Snape broke the tension. “Ten points from Gryffindor for you and Potter’s insolence, Mr. Finnegan.”

And, uncannily like a giant bat, Snape turned and trod away to torment Hermione and Lavender next.

“Brilliant day, just brilliant!” Seamus groaned, falling into his crimson coloured comforter. “Water in the face, no Quidditch, and thirty points down. Just brilliant.”

“What you on about?” Dean asked.

Seamus looked at him. “What do you mean what am I talking about? Forget Harry’s Horntail, my day has been the worst day in the history of bad days.” 

Dean didn’t answer, merely shrugged and dumped out his school bag on his bed. Neville however, walked over. 

“Bad day, huh?” He asked curiously.

Seamus rolled his eyes. “Yeah.”

Neville nodded, his brow creased as if pondering something. Seamus didn’t second guess it, just ignored him.

After a little while, Neville said, “Ginny told me you talked with her about Quidditch at breakfast.”

Seamus sat up, “When did you talk to Ginny?”


“Wow…I didn’t think you could talk to girls, Neville.”

Neville smiled a little, embarrassed. “Ginny said she didn’t think you liked her before today. But talking Quidditch with you made her feel like a friend.”

Seamus blinked and opened his mouth to say something but Neville continued.

“And Harry wasn’t singled out in Potions today because you talked back to S-Snape,” Neville stuttered over the name slightly. For a moment, Seamus thought about Neville’s Boggart-Snape from when Professor Lupin was their teacher. “I mean…you did loose Gryffindor points but it would have happened anyway, right?” 

Seamus thought about this. He looked up at Neville with a smile. The other smiled back. 

“And what about when Dean and I woke you up? What’s the upside to that one?” Seamus asked.

Neville considered this. “At least I wasn’t the one who got Aguamentied in the face.”

Seamus and Neville both laughed and Dean joined in, even though he had no idea what the two had been talking about.

“Never a dull day in Gryffindor, aye?” Seamus chuckled as he sat down on his bed again and blew out the lights.

If you enjoyed this story be sure to follow along on Instagram for a brave and true GRYFFINDOR GIVEAWAY that is up for grabs HERE. You can find me on Instagram @bookishblinddate.

NOTE: This story is NOT a licensed work. The author does not own any copywrite, trademarks and/or license. Absolutely all trademarks, licenses and copyrights are the sole property of the authors and/or publishers. All of this writers works and stories are “fan made”, and are NOT to be assumed as being licensed and/or official work. The production of this story is not intended to mislead or to confuse consumers. No infringement on the publisher/author’s name and trademark are intended. This product is purposed for Fan Fiction only.

Ravenclaws and Their Bad Omens

Ravenclaws are honestly the most frustrating House. They are haughty but have low self esteem. They are intelligent but ignorant. They are witty yet dull. Why this walking talking contradiction? Because they can talk the talk but it takes a lot of effort and insight for them to walk the walk. Like Slytherins, they often put unreasonable expectations on themselves. But unlike Slytherins, they are often discouraged when they do not immediately reach their goals or live up to their hopes. Ravenclaws need opposing personalities to keep them in check, though they will never admit it nor seek it. Luckily, when given facts and evidence they will work hard to change themselves or their situation. Ravenclaw’s curiosity and intelligence tend to give them days like this…

“Sybill, maybe this isn’t such a good idea-“

“Worry not! We are almost there!”

“But if we get caught…”

“Then it’s as the Fates want it to be and who are we to deny Fate?”

“At least let me give us a little light…I can’t see a thing.”

“As you wish, Pandora.”

A white light filled the narrow stairway the two girls where climbing. Sybill was in the lead, her eyes looking wistfully in the air at nothing in particular. Pandora followed close behind, her wand aloft, looking over her shoulder occasionally.

“Sybill…” Pandora implored one more time, though rather half heartedly. She had been friends with Sybill Trewlaney for six years and knew that changing her mind about anything was a difficult task. It was a Ravenclaw trait.

Sybill broke into a wide smile as the staircase opened up to to the entrance of the Astronomy Tower’s open air turret. “Behold!” She cried ecstatically.

The night was clear of clouds and haze. The black sky was dotted with stars, stretching out as far as the eye could see. Sybill and Pandora stood beneath the endless sheet of dappled white high above them, starring at the wide expanse.

“Pandora, your wand,” Sybill whispered urgently, still looking upward.

“Nox,” muttered Pandora, putting out her wand’s light.

The silence lasted only a moment. In an instant, Sybill rushed to the nearest telescope. She pushed her large spectacles up, to rest on top of her voluminous hair. She looked into the scope quizzically, swiveling the mechanics around purposefully.

Sybill heard Pandora nearby, breathing just over her shoulder. She payed her no mind, however, and concentrated on the heavens.

“Hey, there’s Sirius!” Pandora’s voice said. “Or is that Venus? I can never tell the difference.”

“One is a planet, the other is a star, there is quite a large difference, my dear.” Sybill replied, not taking her eye away from the telescope.

“More like one is a planet, the other is a mischievous Gryffindor,” Pandora laughed. Her voice was farther away now. She had probably taken a seat on the stone ledge. “I was talking to Xenophilius the other day and he said that Black had-“

Sybill gasped suddenly, halting Pandora’s words.

“What? What is it?”

Sybill shook her head mournfully. “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear…”

“Sybill, what is it? What do the stars say?”

“Nothing good, no, nothing good at all!” Sybil’s voice was hollow. “I should have known…the omens are ill indeed…”

She sat up and pulled her glasses back down on to the bridge of her nose. Shaking her head, she said, “Ever mysterious…”

“What is? What’s going to happen?” Pandora asked, not quite as urgently as before.

“The thing we all fear most…”

Pandora looked at Sybill with awe, as if this explained everything. Both glanced up at the stars.

“I wish I could read the future, Sybill,” said Pandora, her face unreadable (mostly because it was so dark.)

Sybill looked at her friend, her mystical manner dropped slightly. “We each have our own gifts. It is unwise to underestimate ones own talents wishing for something more.”

“Look who’s talking.”

Both Sybill and Pandora spun around, looking for who had spoken, for it had not been either of them. Then out of the darkness came the outline of three boys; two extremely tall and one who was rather short.

Pandora put a hand on her hips, but was smiling all the same, “James Potter, I’ll tell McGonogall on you!”

Sirius Black barked with laughter, “And get busted for breaking curfew yourself? Prefects aren’t that thick…no offense, Moony.”

Remus Lupin grinned sheepishly and waved the comment aside.

Sybill frowned grumpily at this lack of respect for her and her friend. She snapped back, “You would not be so flippant if you knew what I had see in your future, Black.” She crossed her arms and looked haughtily away.

The Gryffindor rolled his eyes, “I do know, actually. Last time you read my palm you told me I would spend half my life in prison and die young. A real ray of sunshine you are.”

“I cannot rewrite the future, I can only see it.”

“Burn,” muttered James, biting back a smile. Sirius elbowed him in the ribs.

“Come on, Sybill, there just making trouble,” said Pandora as she reached for her friends hand.

Remus cleared his throat and said matter of factly, “I believe the phrase is ‘up to no good’ not ‘making trouble.’”

The other two with him laughed. Pandora continued to attempt to drag Sybill away but she stood her ground.

She pulled down her glasses and pursed her lips. “And what is that supposed to mean?” She was no longer putting an airs. “What did you mean when you said ‘look who’s talking?’”

“Sybill…” said Pandora warningly.

James shrugged as he folded up a piece of blank parchment he had been holding. “I mean, we all know your fortune telling us a load of hogwash, so who are you to tell Pandora-what was it?” He did a crude imitation for Sybill’s voice, “‘It is unwise to underestimate ones own talents wishing for something more.’ Ravenclaws can sure preach it yet never practice it.”

Sybill was highly affronted and she countered, angrily, “My great-great-grandmother was the celebrated Cassandra Trewlaney! She was the greatest Seer in a century!”

“Doesn’t mean you are too. You could have different gifts and your missing out on ‘em.”

Pandora cringed and glanced at Sybill, who was fuming. James opened his mouth to say something more but was interrupted by Remus.

“Let off her, James, she hasn’t done anything terrible,” he muttered.

James adjusted his glasses and shrugged again. He turned to Sirius and Remus. “Anyway, back to work, boys!”

“What are you doing?” Pandora asked.

“You’ll see next Astronomy lesson!” Sirius chuckled with a wink at his friends.

Pandora rolled her eyes and pulled Sybill away. This time, she allowed herself to be steered, though still seething.

Despite the little sleep Sybill had that night, she rose in time to eat some toast for breakfast and go to her classes. She paid vague attention in lessons. These were not so very important to her. Now, Divination, that was worth the investment.

Her fellow Ravenclaws focused their intelligence on too wide of a spectrum, she thought. No, it was better to invest all your time end energy into what you knew was of the most importance.

Why should she care for Care of Magical Creatures when it had little to do with foresight? Now, Astronomy and Defense Against the Dark Arts had some roots in Divination and where worth noting.

But why should Pandora invest time in listening to Professor Kettleburn go in about Chimera Ministry of Magic classification when her skills lay in her charms? Charms and Transfiguration were better suited for her.

It isn’t something most people have the sight to understand, she thought to herself, glancing over at the Gryffindors who were joining the Ravenclaws for Astronomy. James Potter and his fan club were amongst them.

Astronomy was being held earlier than usual, seeing as they didn’t have to stargaze. Pandora leaned over to Sybill and whispered in her ear, “Do you think they hexed the Tower?”

“I don’t think, I know,” she rapped her glasses knowingly and Pandora nodded.

Coming down the Astronomy Tower steps were the fourth year Slytherins and Hufflepuffs. One of the Slytherins, Black’s younger brother, passed by them and called scornfully, “Very mature, Sirius. Did you and Potter think that one up all by yourselves or did you consult a joke book?”

Sybill saw Sirius’ usual charming grin fall as he walked past and ignored his brother.

“What did they do up there?” Quirinus Quirrell asked from just behind Sybill and Pandora.

“Why should we care?” inquired Pandora, having overheard him. “Right, Sybill?”

“Indeed. Those of standards need not consort with the melancholy deeds of the undeserving.”

“Thank you kindly!” Yelled James, taking a low bow and making the Gryffindors laugh. He earned a slap in the back of the head from Lily Evans, making the Gryffindors heckle even louder, Sirius and Peter Pettigrew in particular.

The Ravenclaw’s on the other hand, rolled their eyes and turned their noses away, save Pandora who was trying her best not to giggle.

Once at the Tower, there was nothing all that peculiar in sight. However, Filch the caretaker was doing something odd with the telescopes and was becoming increasingly frustrated. Halfway through the lesson, the Astronomy professor told him to give it up. “I’m sure Flitwick will sort it out after his classes.”

Curiosity nipped at Sybill. What had happened to the telescopes? She and many of the other Ravenclaws attempted to eavesdrop into the Gryffindor’s whispered conversations or sneak a look at the telescopes in question. Finally, the were supplied with a sufficient answer.

“Lockhart,” Sybill muttered to Gilderoy, “I believe you know something of this hexing business…I can see it in your eyes.”

“My eyes?” Gilderoy asked confused. Then he smiled brightly, “Do they look good?”

“They look enlightened-“

“So spill it,” Pandora finished, less elegantly than Sybill would have put it.

Gilderoy grinned superiorly, “As a matter of fact, I overheard Evans talking to Potter about the telescopes, she tends to speak very loudly as most passionate women do, I know this because-well,” his grinned widened, “Its not for a gentleman to say, now is it?”

Pandora looked as exasperated as Sybill felt but they listened to Gilderoy nevertheless.

“And she was saying something about him being childish and rude, and apparently the telescopes are jinxed.”

“As I predicted,” Sybill nodded.

“But what do the telescopes do? Attack whoever looks through them?”

Gilderoy shook his head, “No, indeed. If you look in the telescope a message writes itself in the clouds or stars. Quite clever Magic, though I could have pulled it off much better, if I do say so myself-“

“Gilderoy!” Pandora and Sybill groaned, frustrated. “What does the message say?”

He coughed for dramatic effect before announcing, “‘Missing: Snivillus’ Shampoo.’”

Sybill’s eyes, magnified by her large glasses, blinked.

“That’s it?” asked Pandora. “Really? That’s all?”

A frown fluttered across Gilderoy’s face, disappointed that the two girls weren’t impressed with his tale. He shrugged and turned away.

“Well, that was disappointing.”

“As things usually are.”

“You’re not taking the Potter boy seriously, are you?”

Sleep had almost overtook Sybill when Pandora said this unexpectedly. She moved aside her four poster curtain and saw her friend sitting on the edge of her bed and looking her way.

“I mean,” Pandora continued, “You don’t think he was right about you not being a Seer…right?

“Of course not!” Sybill said. “I wouldn’t trust Potter as far as I could throw a crystal ball.”

Pandora nodded, approvingly. “Good because your far to talented to doubt yourself.”

They stayed silent for a little while before Sybill asked, “Do you really think I’m talented?”

“Obviously! How else would you have known about the flu going around in October? Or that Hufflepuff would win the House cup? Or that the last Quidditch match would end in a tie?”

Sybill smiled as her friend praised her foresight.

“…and of course I don’t want Black to die young but him ending up in prison is probable now isn’t it?” Pandora nodded, satisfied with her insight. “So don’t doubt yourself for a single second.”

“As you say,” Sybill grinned.

“Promise?” Pandora double checked.


After Sybil was sure that the other Ravenclaw girls were asleep, she took out her wand and a leather bound book. She flipped through pages full of her own writing until she found a blank page. She carefully dipped a quill in a well of ink on her bedside table and began to write.

Mystic Entry n. 312

     What is foresight? Is it the ability to predict the future? Or is it the confidence in what one knows to be true for the future? If the former, what hope might present itself with such dark days ahead? If the latter, shouldn’t Divination be widespread? Might it be? Might all beings have a feeling of surety that the future will hold both trials and promises? Is it merely the question of if said being can touch that faith and live in it? 

Thoughts to meditate on.

If you enjoyed this story be sure to follow along on Instagram for a witty RAVENCLAW GIVEAWAY that is up for grabs HERE. You can find me on Instagram @bookishblinddate.

NOTE: This story is NOT a licensed work. The author does not own any copywrite, trademarks and/or license. Absolutely all trademarks, licenses and copyrights are the sole property of the authors and/or publishers. All of this writers works and stories are “fan made”, and are NOT to be assumed as being licensed and/or official work. The production of this story is not intended to mislead or to confuse consumers. No infringement on the publisher/author’s name and trademark are intended. This product is purposed for Fan Fiction only.