Chapter 214: Return to School
It was an Invisibility Cloak.
Strange—Harry was certain that package hadn't been there the night before. So who had left it?
He examined it again, but there was no name, no note—nothing to reveal the sender.
After a moment's hesitation, he stopped overthinking it and stuffed the cloak into his trunk.
The Christmas holiday was nearly over. It was time to return to Hogwarts.
For Harry, this had been the happiest Christmas of his eleven years.
—
The last traces of winter clung to the train windows, thin flakes of snow melting into streaks of water. Ron sat shivering in his seat, clutching yesterday's Daily Prophet as if it might somehow keep him warm.
Hermione finally lost patience. With a flick of her wand, she conjured a string of bell-like flames, sealed them into a jar, and tossed it into Ron's lap.
Warmth spread instantly, and Ron stopped trembling.
Because so many compartments were empty, Russell and Wednesday had taken over one at the very end of the train, leaving Harry, Ron, and Hermione together.
The table before them was piled high with Muggle snacks from the market.
They had just begun to dig in when—
The compartment door was yanked open with unnecessary force.
"Well, well. Potter," drawled Draco Malfoy, his pale fingers flicking the edge of his fur-trimmed cloak embroidered with the Malfoy crest. "Hiding in here, stuffing yourself with cheap sweets?"
"I heard you finally found a proper Christmas home this year—a rubbish bin, wasn't it?"
Behind him, Crabbe and Goyle blocked the corridor, snickering like lumbering beasts, crumbs clinging to their mouths.
Ron's ears turned bright red—redder than Christmas ornaments. He instinctively reached for Scabbers to throw at them… then froze.
Scabbers was gone. Locked away in Azkaban.
"My father says only stray dogs stay at school over Christmas," Malfoy continued smugly. "So I suppose you just pretended to go home? I can't imagine the rubbish tasted very good."
He tilted his head so the diamond pin on his collar caught the light—reflecting cruelly off Harry's scar.
"Or is it that your aunt and uncle's house is even worse than a bin?"
Malfoy had done his homework. He knew Russell and Wednesday weren't in the same compartment—otherwise, he wouldn't have dared show up.
What he hadn't accounted for… was how bold Ron had become.
Ron's fist moved faster than any spell.
He grabbed Malfoy by the collar and slammed him sideways. Malfoy's nose cracked against the compartment wall, knocking a box of chocolate biscuits onto the floor.
That did it.
Crabbe and Goyle immediately rolled up their sleeves, ready to defend their master.
Crabbe snatched up a bag of chocolates and hurled it at Hermione—
But she flicked her wand, freezing it midair.
The chocolates burst apart like hail, pelting Goyle square in the face.
"Eat slugs!" Harry snapped, drawing his wand—
—but in that instant, Malfoy's cloak sprang to life, wrapping tightly around Harry's throat.
They crashed backward, slamming through the sliding door into the next compartment.
In the chaos, Neville's toad, Trevor, leapt straight into Malfoy's robes.
From outside, Pansy Parkinson let out a scream sharp enough to rival a siren.
Just as Draco snatched up a fallen quill and jabbed it toward Harry's chest, Ron yanked a sprig of mistletoe out from his sweater.
He'd secretly plucked it from a Christmas tree—someone had told him it brought good luck.
Waving it like a whip, he smacked Malfoy repeatedly, a grin spreading across his face.
Apparently, it really did work.
"You—you filthy—!"
Malfoy's furious outburst was abruptly cut off when Hermione lobbed a perfectly aimed roasted potato straight into his mouth.
Nearby Crabbe's panicked Engorgement Charm went disastrously wrong, leaving Goyle wedged in the compartment doorway like an overstuffed ham stuck in a chimney.
At that exact moment, the train plunged into a tunnel.
In the darkness came the sounds of tearing fabric and muffled chaos.
When sunlight flooded back in, Malfoy's silver cufflink was tangled in a hole ripped through Ron's sweater, glinting conspicuously.
"Weasley…" Malfoy's voice dropped, cold and venomous. He raised his wand.
The luggage rack overhead exploded, sending heavy trunks crashing down toward Ron. If Hermione hadn't reacted instantly with a Levitation Charm, he would've been buried on the spot.
"Petrificus Totalus!"
Pansy Parkinson's spell struck Hermione's left arm, leaving it hanging uselessly at her side.
She smirked—until Hermione spun around, yanked a nutcracker soldier from her trunk, and tossed it to Harry.
"Harry—catch!"
It was a gift from Sirius Black. Small, but surprisingly effective.
Harry activated it, and Hermione immediately enlarged it to half human height.
The nutcracker charged, spear raised, stabbing wildly at the Slytherins—jabbing Crabbe so hard he hopped around clutching his backside like he'd suddenly taken up tap dancing.
At last, Goyle wrenched himself free of the doorway—only for Harry to be thrown into the corridor by the impact. His elbow smashed into the snack trolley, spilling Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and Pepper Imps everywhere.
Only now did Harry realize—the trolley witch must have connections to Honeydukes. He'd never noticed before.
"Oh my heavens—what are you doing?!" the trolley witch cried, frozen in shock.
Malfoy snarled, whipping off his silver-buckled belt and lashing it at Harry. It struck his ribs just as Crabbe's greasy hand grabbed a fistful of Ron's red hair.
Goyle charged like an enraged rhinoceros—but stepped squarely onto a fallen pumpkin pasty. His shoe slid with a horrible squelch.
"Scarhead—didn't the orphanage teach you how to throw a punch?"
Malfoy hurled a silver sugar bowl from the trolley. It whizzed past Harry's ear and dented the wall.
Ron seized the chance—dumping an entire box of Bertie Bott's Beans down Crabbe's collar. A rotten pepper-flavored one made him choke instantly, tears streaming down his face.
Harry rolled under a seat and grabbed Hermione's dropped copy of A History of Magic. He swung it hard—cracking it into Goyle's knee mid-kick.
The giant howled and collapsed, knocking over their table. Dozens of Chocolate Frogs spilled everywhere.
This, incidentally, was one of Ron's recent "revenge purchases"—now that he had money, he was determined to collect every single card.
Several sticky frogs leapt onto Crabbe's face, syrupy claws smearing across his eyes.
"You're only fit to play with cheap sweets anyway!" Malfoy snapped, grabbing whatever snacks he could and hurling them at Harry.
Harry raised a velvet cushion as a shield.
Meanwhile, Ron was being shoved against the window by Goyle—until inspiration struck. He bit open a chilled pumpkin juice bottle and sprayed it directly into Goyle's face.
The sticky blast blinded him instantly. Goyle howled and staggered sideways.
"Stop it—stop fighting!" the trolley witch shrieked helplessly.
Realizing she couldn't stop them, she turned and rushed off to find a prefect.
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