If You Keep Pulling the Thread...

"-the whole sweater unravels." Jennifer said, quoting some muggle author or other.

The two of you are sitting in the Ravenclaw Common Room, reading by light of the Moonlamp. There are some simple, but sage kernels of wisdom in the muggle world. You had been helping her pack up for Christmas holidays. Now that you were done you were sitting along the back wall of the common room, tucked away by the bookshelves.

You had decided to stay on over the Holiday, and had actually been talking to Professor Flitwick about programs over the Summer Holiday. It's not that you didn't want to go home to the Shack, but you didn't really relish spending time with the Ancestor Portraits. Your snakes probably missed you, but they usually went underground in October anyways.

You had been planning on just sort of keeping to yourself this Christmas, but it seemed a few others were hanging around over break, so you'd have something to do. You nudge the package at your feet, trying to figure out the best time to give it to her. You had sent a few owls to Kingsley to make sure it was appropriate.

"So," Jennifer continued. "Are you going to keep pulling the thread while I am gone?" You nod. "Well you better keep me informed! I know you only have the school owls, but that's no excuse not to write!" She laughs, and her eyes are bright. She seems excited to go home and see her family.

The Prefects were going around collecting all the students who were heading home for the Holiday, and escorting them out to the train platform. Seeing the time you realize that you are just about out of time. You reach down to the package by your feet. You pick up the small parcel and hand it to Jennifer.

Tape from the poorly wrapped parcel stuck to your hands as you awkwardly thrust the package at Jennifer. "I, uh, I got this for you. Merry Christmas, or whatever." you manage. Jennifer takes the package and looks at you surprised. "Don't open it yet." You say with a smile. Inside the package was something that you had managed to acquire with some of the money from the Gringotts vault. It was a Field guide to flying in Quidditch and a beginners broom kit. It had everything she would need to maintain her broom.

She didn't know it yet, but you had coordinated with her family, expressed her ability at flying, and explained that she would need a broom. Her father, while confused, was excited that she had shown both interest and aptitude in something besides "her stories." Jennifer was a natural on the broom, and loved Quidditch, you had tried to pressure her into the Intramural Quidditch League, but her excuse was that she didn't have a broom. No Longer.

"Take care, and I will see you at the start of next term!" You say as you usher to out with the rest of the students who were heading home for the break. She struggled to say something, but you didn't give her the chance. Goodbyes were hard. Waving, you turned and moved back to the chair you had been sitting in.

There was a letter from Kingsley asking if you were going to go home for break. You had half a penned response sitting in a stack of schoolwork. You had never really found time to send a response. Looking at the mostly empty common room, you sigh. While a good chunk of other students were staying over the Holidays, it seemed you were one of the few Ravenclaws.

You quietly pen the rest of your letter to Kingsley, informing him that you are staying over for Winter holiday. Additionally, you tell him that you are worried about the effects of your sorting, it may be better for you to find a place to stay over the summers, at least until you are able to defend yourself properly.

You turn back to your notes. You had been writing down all the things that you had noticed were weird. The Dog, the Teachers on edge, all of it. You had been banging your head against the wall. Jennifer had actively been trying to distract you from it for the last few days, now you could really get cracking on this mystery.

Yep.

Now that you have all the time in the world.

Sit around, rereading the same few points.

Mhmm.

You grab your black hair and pull it in frustration. "What am I missing?!" you grumble. "It has to be a teacher who brought that dog in- clearly wasn't Snape or Quirrell--- WHO!?!"

The moonlamp is now the only light in the common room. The fire has long since sputtered out, and the drafty common room has gotten too cold. You can see the mist of your breath in the dim. "It can wait." You decide aloud. Packing up your things, you stumble up the stairs and collapse in your bed.