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Harry slowly woke to the scent of fresh gingerbread cookies and rich hot chocolate tickling his nose. Mind still foggy with sleep, he felt the lush down pillow under his head and cozy quilt encasing him in warmth and comfort. A sleepy smile spread across his young face, sniffing at the goodies on his bedside table again. Normally the elves delivered a steaming cup of tea to help rouse him and his dorm mates from slumber, but this morning was special. This was the morning of Yule.
Harry never imagined he’d be celebrating Yule, let alone celebrating it with his head of house. Wiggling up to a sitting position, lap still covered in the emerald green, heavy quilt, he reached for his morning treats. A hiss of displeasure came from the warm mass of scales and sass that tumbled from his chest down into his lap as he changed position. A striking, black, diamond-shaped head emerged from the quilt and hovered by the plate of cookies. Tongue darting out to taste the scent of the treats in the air.
“Youngling gives the Beautiful One sweet crunches,” the dark snake coos at Harry. “ Of course, Hathor, I wouldn’t dream of not sharing, ” Harry hissed in response, rolling his eyes and tickling the demanding creature’s scales fondly.
Munching off the head of the first cookie and offering the crumbs to Hathor, Harry began to look thoughtfully around the room.
A meticulously tidy four-poster bed was to his right, with the same dark green curtains, and thick, plush quilt. Desk immaculate with every book and quill and parchment in its proper place. Teddy, or Theodore, as the rest of Hogwarts knew him, was a stickler for tidiness. This bed was followed by three beds and desks of average cleanliness. Two of the beds pushed together to make one giant sleeping nest, which made Harry chuckle every time he saw it. If the rest of the school only knew that Greg and Vinnie were so afraid of the dark they had to cuddle at night, well, Malfoy’s street cred as a ringleader would vanish. Finally, there was Draco’s bed, right on the other side of Harry’s. Harry took a sip of his hot chocolate and chortled to himself while feeding Hathor more crumbs. Silly Draco. It looked like a nuclear bomb had gone off around his bed and desk. You’d never know he was a total slob, but alas, the proof was in the pudding, or rather, in the dirty pants, used socks, open books, muddy boots, and crumpled ties (he could go on and on) thrown about.
Harry sighed happily, reflecting on the last few months. It hadn’t been easy at first, with Draco being an absolute knob in their first few meetings, then being sorted into Slytherin. He swore up and down a wall to Ron that he’d begged the hat to put him in Gryffindor, which was categorically false, of course. However, as soon as the hat had mentioned that Slytherin was the house he’d find his true friends in, he knew in his heart it was where he belonged. Hathor had also made it abundantly clear that the only acceptable house was that of the Giant Beautiful One.
Then there was Professor Snape, possibly the most unexpected surprise of the whole experience. Harry sat his hot chocolate and now empty plate of cookies back on the bedside table and picked up a gilded frame. Hathor wound her way around Harry’s shoulders and rested her blunt nose against his collar bone, tickling his neck with her tongue. Stroking her smooth scales for comfort, he looked at the image for what must have been the hundredth time. It contained a beautiful young red-haired witch holding a messy-haired baby in her arms. Both mother and child beaming at the camera, giggling to one another in hopeless delight.
Professor Snape had given him that photograph, among other precious keepsakes Harry never dreamed he’d have. Apparently his mum had kept in contact with her old childhood friend, hoping to rekindle the goodness she knew he once possessed.
Professor Snape’s icy exterior had melted upon learning of Harry’s childhood. All it had taken was one wellness visit to Madam Promfrey and an owl to the Department of Underaged Wixen for the Dursley’s custody to be revoked, much to the displeasure of Dumbledore. However, Dumbledore’s tune quickly changed after a threatening lunge from Harry’s ashwinder familiar. Hathor had been with Harry for years now, and she was over his nest mates' constant abuse of her Youngling. The Light Evil One would not stand in the way of the Dark Soft One removing them both from the Dursley’s permanently. With the Ministry involved, and the proof in the diagnostic scans, Dumbledore didn’t have a leg to stand on.
A soft knock on the door jostled Harry from his short trip down memory lane. “Mr. Potter, are you ready to join us?” Hathor began hissing excitedly and squirming, “ It is the Dark Soft One! I shall go to him while you prepare, Youngling!” She called while moving quickly off the bed and towards the voice. Like she needed any excuse to spend time with Professor Snape. “Ah, Hathor, Happy Yule, you demanding little beast,” he heard the Professor greet his familiar softly. “I’ll be out in a moment, Professor!” Harry called, stretching one last time before exiting his cozy cocoon of warmth.
Shifting to the side of the bed, Harry grabbed his robe and slippers, excitement finally building in earnest. My first Yule, he thought again, joy bubbling in the depths of his chest. Throwing the robe over his shoulders and shoving his feet into the woolen slippers, Harry crawled under his bed to extract the modest pile of gifts he’d owl ordered earlier in the month. Wrapped in sparkling gold paper with sprigs of holly as decoration, he gathered the pile in his arms and made for the common room, warmth and joy spreading from deep within his magic to the tips of his fingers and toes.
Throwing the door to his room open fully, Harry rushed towards the common room, towards his first Yule with his friends, with his Professor, with his new family.