Chapter 15: 6-2

Hogwarts had entered the Christmas holidays, leaving only a handful of students behind in the dormitories. As expected, Ron and Harry had thrown their duties to the wind as if they’d been waiting for this exact moment, and I watched them lose themselves in snowfights and Wizard’s Chess while holding my enchanted communication parchment. For Hermione’s sake—since she was home for the holidays—I felt like prodding the boys about the Nicolas Flamel situation... but I, Maria, am supposed to be in the dark about that "secret."

With a silent sigh, I told myself I’d treat them to some Chocolate Frogs later and looked down at the parchment in my hand. My correspondent was, of course, Draco—and surprisingly, he was currently staying in the Slytherin dungeon.

In this world, Malfoy—a boy who should have been pampered by his parents until his heart was bloated with affection—was being treated like a pariah because of his own convictions. That fact felt utterly bizarre to me.

If I told him that I felt guilty for the path he was walking, he’d probably just call me arrogant.

"I’m heading out for a bit. Are you two staying here?"

""We are!""

I stood up after confirming their reply had shimmered onto the parchment. I had checked in with them just in case, but the boys were far too busy glaring at the chessboard to be interrupted. With a wry smile, I bundled up in my winter gear and left the Gryffindor Common Room.

My destination—the seventh floor of Hogwarts Castle.

"Hi, Draco. Nostalgic, isn't it?"

"Hardly."

At the end of the corridor, I found Draco standing alone, his skin pale from more than just the cold. I smirked, feeling a sense of triumph. Our meeting in front of a blank stretch of stone wall had required only a single phrase: Searching for the Room of Requirement.

Walk past it three times, concentrating hard on what you need. When someone is in real need of it, the room reveals itself.

"It appeared."

"I never wanted to see this place again."

Facing the grand, ancient doors, Draco looked as if he’d swallowed a tub of Flooberworm mucus. I shrugged; I couldn't blame him. For Draco, this room held nothing but bitter memories—from letting Death Eaters in to losing a crony to Fiendfyre.

However, I wasn't obligated to coddle him over his "self-inflicted trauma" anymore. I opened the door without hesitation. Draco’s expression went from sour to absolutely miserable.

"Mmm, still full of junk. Maybe Crabbe’s fire really was the best way to clear it out."

I grumbled the joke to myself. Inside the vast, high-ceilinged room was an endless sea of things.

Unfinished essays; ancient, out-of-style dress robes; socks with holes; commemorative coins stamped with Merlin’s face; empty perfume bottles; sealed bags of owl treats; unreturned library books; broken wands... the room where generations of students had hidden their belongings.

It smelled of dust and clutter, yet it felt strangely lonely—the only place where the discarded remnants of the past still drew breath.

"...What are we doing here?"

Draco looked around at the piles of "treasures" (mostly junk), clearly not wanting to stay a second longer. I gave him a mischievous smile.

"Hor... crux... hunt... ing."

I whispered it syllable by syllable into his ear just to tease him. Draco turned even paler.

I got it. We both had our fair share of trauma thanks to that Snake-face. To think we were about to go looking for a piece of his soul—anyone would lose their color.

"Already? Couldn't we wait a bit... the Dark Lord hasn't even returned yet."

"We won't have time once classes start. I decided long ago to get this over with during the Christmas break when I knew I could stay behind. Though... I didn't expect you to stay, too."

"...Fine. Let’s just finish this quickly."

"If only it were that easy."

Despite his grumbling, the fact that he didn't refuse showed Draco’s pride—and his hidden sincerity toward those he considered his own.

"We’re looking for Ravenclaw’s Diadem. You remember what it looks like, right? Oh, and we aren't destroying it yet. We can't. It takes immense magical power to destroy one. So far, the only things confirmed to work are Basilisk fangs, Fiendfyre, or a Goblin-made weapon that has imbibed Basilisk venom. By a stroke of luck, the Sword of Gryffindor was the answer last time."

We split up, digging through ancient junk while digging through old memories. The problem with Horcruxes is that you can’t use Accio on them. There was no way but to search by hand.

"Then why look for it now?"

"I want it in my possession. Once Harry and the others learn about the Horcruxes, I’ll pretend to find it 'by accident' and hand it over. I have to prevent an unsuspecting student from finding it. A tool created by murder will only keep on murdering."

I knew.

I knew the terror of Slytherin’s Locket. I knew the eeriness of Riddle’s Diary. Even Dumbledore was tempted and consumed by Marvolo’s Ring. While its status as a Deathly Hallow played a part, the curses brought by a Horcrux are immeasurable.

"I plan to spend the whole break on this. The Diadem is the easiest to get right now. Second would be Riddle’s Diary, but..."

"No need for that."

Suddenly, Draco’s voice—full of his trademark arrogant confidence—echoed back. I turned around, puzzled. In his hand was a beautiful, yet malevolent, tiara.

"You..."

"I figured this is where I would hide it, and I was right. Perhaps the Dark Lord is unexpectedly simple-minded?"

"I see. Like attracts like?"

"Don't group me with that thing—whoa, hey!"

Overjoyed by the unexpected find, I lunged at Draco and hugged him. The gemstone in the Diadem he held glowed with a dull, blue light. I couldn't help it—I never imagined we’d find it on the first day. I thought my entire holiday would be devoured by this task.

"You're the best, Draco! Now, if only we could get our hands on Riddle’s Diary... is it at your manor this time around, too?"

"No."

"I thought so..."

I nodded. Even if Lucius Malfoy was loyal to Voldemort, his son Draco was being rebellious. Why would the Dark Lord entrust his life to a house containing someone who might turn against him? Even if the Diary was just meant as a "test," it was still his own soul.

"It's no longer there because I brought it here."

"Right, finding the Diary's location will be our next task—...Wait, what?"

My jaw dropped. My eyes, so like my father’s, must have been bulging like Luna Lovegood's. Draco smirked with the exact same expression he used to wear after a successful prank on Harry Potter, looking as if years of effort had finally paid off.

"Where did you say the Diary is?"

"In the Slytherin dorms. In the room assigned to Draco Malfoy. Inside the third drawer of the locked cabinet I brought from home—hidden in the back, inside an even more securely locked box."

"........."

I was speechless. I can say with absolute certainty: I have never been more grateful for this friend’s cunning. I’ll likely be saying that for the rest of my life.

"How on earth did you...?"

"I begged my father for it back when I was still playing the role of the obedient son. See, that man had no idea what the Diary actually was, even though the Master gave it to him. He gave it up quite easily, saying something ridiculous like, 'Cherish it, for it was a gift from someone important.' Oh, I’ll cherish it, alright—until the day I help you and Harry destroy it."

A chill of excitement ran through me at his cynical, deliberate explanation. Draco Malfoy—what a thrilling man. Unable to contain my emotions, I lunged at him again.

"Draco! You really are the best!"

"Naturally. What kind of knight would I be for the Princess of Gryffindor otherwise?"

Having caught me more easily the second time, Draco leaned in and playfully feigned a kiss on the crown of my head.

State the feelings of an older sister (me) who, upon walking into the common room with sleepy eyes, sees her younger brother’s severed head floating in mid-air.

Ah... I suppose it's that time of year again.

"Merry Christmas, Maria! Were you surprised? You were, right? Even the great Maria is shocked?"

"She's frozen solid! I've got to tell Hermione when break is over. Not even Maria can keep a straight face when she sees her brother's head on a platter!"

I watched the "head" and Ron's invisible hand go for a high-five and groaned.

"You two... don't tease your older sister."

"I'm the older one!"

"We're the same age!"

Oops. Slip of the tongue.

"Anyway, Harry, what is that? Did Fred and George give you some weird sweets? Some joke item that makes your body disappear?"

I played it off. If Draco were here, he’d probably scoff at how transparently fake I was being. But here, there were only two boys high on Christmas spirit.

"No! Look at this card! I don't know who it's from... but they must have known my Dad!"

Harry took off the mirror-like fabric and pulled a card from his pocket, which I accepted solemnly. I looked at the distinctive handwriting explaining the Invisibility Cloak and narrowed my eyes. Even in this life, Dumbledore was watching over Harry... whatever his motives may be.

"It’s amazing. I can go anywhere with this, Maria!"

"Make sure to lend it to me sometimes, Harry."

"What are you talking about? It belonged to our Dad, so it’s yours too, Maria. You don't need to ask my permission to use it."

Oh, I see—

I nodded slowly at Harry, who tilted his head in pure confusion. How easily and naturally you share your treasures. Because we’re family. Because you and I are siblings.

It struck me then: siblings really are wonderful things.

...If only 'I' had one, too.

"Oh, you're all here! Merry Christmas, little ones!"

"I see Harry got one too—a Weasley sweater. Where's yours, Maria?"

"I got a lovely red one. I’ll go put it on."

The door to the upper-year dorms swung open as the Weasley twins invaded. I smiled secretly as Harry hid the Cloak from them, and I headed back to my own room.

On this, my first Christmas at Hogwarts as Maria, I looked at the pile of presents at the foot of my bed—starting with Mrs. Weasley’s initialed sweater—and let out a happy sigh.

There were Exploding Bonbons from Hermione, which I planned to eat immediately. Parvati had sent a handmade, exotic beaded bangle—girls really are skillful. In the kitchens, the cat-themed mug Lavender gave me was likely "dozing" away, and Hagrid had given me a small wooden carving of a tree last night. I’d put that on the windowsill later. Even the Dursleys had sent a fifty-pence piece via owl; since it’s worthless in the wizarding world, I gave it to Fred and George. It’ll probably end up with Mr. Weasley, that Muggle enthusiast. Finally, Draco had given me a necklace with a flame trapped inside a gemstone.

I opened the snobbish velvet box and held the red flame up to the light. According to the note, it adjusts to the wearer’s temperature—red and warm in winter, blue and cool in summer. Honestly, such a stylish magical item was just like him. The design was simple enough that even I, someone unaccustomed to being "girly," could wear it without feeling awkward.

(For the record, I gave everyone snow globes Harry and I made containing real enchanted snow. Typical handmade gifts from kids.)

Surrounded by the Weasleys and wearing our matching jumpers, we headed to the Great Hall, where the staff had prepared a magnificent feast. No matter how many times I’ve seen it since Harry’s first time, the food and decorations are breathtaking. And of course, one mustn't forget the Wizard Crackers.

Since there were so few students, everyone gathered at one long table regardless of House. Draco was there, too. As he poshly sipped some non-alcoholic champagne, Fred and George drenched him with non-alcoholic wine. Ron roared with laughter at the soaked Malfoy; Harry was too busy eating to notice; and I sat next to Harry, pretending to play with a mouse that had popped out of a cracker while laughing internally. Somehow, he noticed. Sharp ears, that one.

After playing from morning till dusk, the night settled into a quiet hush. Back when I was "Harry," I felt a sense of warmth even at night thanks to Ron being in the same room (though his snoring was a trial). But this room—the girls' dormitory where I was the sole resident while Hermione was away—was quiet.

I didn't want to admit it, but I felt lonely, so I went down to the empty common room.

Suddenly, a hand tapped my shoulder through the air.

"Can't sleep either, Maria?"

"...Harry."

Harry popped out of thin air. No—Harry had been there first; I was the one who came in later. He was just under the Invisibility Cloak.

"The party was fun. But I like a Christmas with just the two of us, too. Remember? When you turned our blanket into a star-patterned one, and we put it over our heads to make our own night sky?"

"Yeah."

"How did you do that? You didn't even have a wand then."

"Who knows?"

"You were always doing fun things like that, Maria."

"The thrill of not letting our Aunt and Uncle find out was the best part."

"You really do have a wicked personality, Maria... Today was great. But I still prefer the Christmases where we just talk like this. I don't think today's party would have been any fun at all if you weren't there."

"That’s not..."

That’s not true. Because "I" was able to laugh even when I was alone. I survived with my friends, even when I was alone.

"...Hey, want to go on an adventure?"

Tucked together under the Cloak to make ourselves small, I took a step forward, led by Harry’s hand. It was rare for Harry to make a suggestion like this. For some reason, he had grown up more reserved than me, and it was always my job to pull him outside. But this boy is growing, even now.

"Let's go, Maria."

"...Okay!"

You probably don't know, Harry.

The preciousness of a family hand offered unconditionally. The agonizing relief of knowing you will never be alone. Having someone who calls your name first. The reality that some people simply don't have that.

And that’s fine. You never have to know the emptiness of those who have nothing.

Because you have Maria Potter.