Come on, Hermione," Ron tried. "Only a couple more hours before we finish. And you've got to pack yet."
"Yeah, I mean, you've got Christmas with your parents to look forward to," Harry agreed, wondering himself what he had to look forward to this year, given the state of his relationship with his own guardian.
What was left of it.
"I'm not going home for Christmas!" Hermione called.
Ron frowned, looking at Harry.
"Boys are so RUDE!" Myrtle screeched, before either of them could respond, rushing towards them. "Get OUT!"
"Just go!" Hermione called. "I'm fine, really!"
Ron shrugged a shoulder, and he and Harry turned to leave.
"Oh I see! You'll listen to HER! But no body listens to poor old moping, moaning MYRTLE!" the ghost wailed, taking off into the air and plunging into the nearest toilet.
"Mental that one," Ron declared, as the two of them left the lavatories.
"Which one?" Harry half-joked.
"Both of them, come to think of it!" Ron agreed. "I mean, it's only History of Magic."
"It's Hermione though, isn't it?" he reminded his friend. "I'll bet she's never failed a test in her life."
"It's a bit weird though, don't you think? Hermione, failing. Even I did better than her," he frowned.
Harry nodded. "She studied loads too, didn't she?"
"Yeah. And not going home for Christmas? What's that all about?" Ron wondered.
"I don't know. Maybe her parents have made other plans," he suggested, as they made their way in the direction of McGonagall's classroom.
"Might be good news for you. At least you'll have an excuse to stay in the tower. You know, if you want to avoid Snape and all," the redhead pointed out.
Harry said nothing, his mind going back to last Christmas – eating mince pies with Snape and Professor Dumbledore on Christmas eve… the potions master reading to him, even though he had been far too old… the warm feeling he'd gotten exchanging gifts with the man in the morning…
He'd so been looking forward to having all that again. But it felt like such a long time ago, now.
Joining the line of second years outside the Transfiguration classroom, Harry leaned against the stone wall and sighed, trying to remind himself that he was supposed to be angry at his guardian and not longing for Christmas past.
Besides, he thought, as he idly watched Dean and Seamus tossing Neville's textbook between them and teasing him, Ron was right – he could stay in the tower with Hermione. He wouldn't be alone.
"Good afternoon," Professor McGonagall appeared at the front of the line, gesturing them into the classroom. "Finnigan, Thomas, do try to control yourselves. In you come."
But as Harry filed into the room amongst his classmates, a sick feeling stirred in his stomach as he realised that, despite everything, it wasn't himself he was worried about being alone at Christmas at all.
It was Professor Snape.