57: Chapter 57 The Invisibility Cloak and the Unconscious Ron

Christmas morning, the Gryffindor first-year dormitory was piled high with wrapping paper and parcels.

Ron sat up, his hair sticking up in all directions.

"Harry, wake up, your presents are here."

Harry opened his eyes and saw a small pile of parcels at the foot of his bed.

"For me?"

Ron was already unwrapping some candy.

"Unless you think they're for Neville? Hurry up and open them."

Harry first unwrapped a red sweater; the wool was thick, and the color was blindingly bright.

"Who sent this?"

"My mom. She knits them every year, and I suppose she counted you in this time."

Harry hugged the sweater, not speaking immediately.

Ron was chewing on candy, looking awkward.

"If you don't like it, you don't have to wear it. I won't tell her."

"I like it."

Ron let out a sigh of relief.

"That's good. She probably tucked some pie in there too."

Harry unwrapped another parcel; sure enough, it was pie.

"How did she know I was staying at school?"

"I mentioned it in a letter, so she knitted an extra one."

Harry looked down at the sweater.

"Thank her for me."

Ron waved his hand.

"Write her a letter yourself. She'll be so happy she'll fill the kitchen with pies."

A rustling sound came from the old sweater at the foot of the bed, and fake Scabbers poked its head out, its right forepaw tucked under its belly.

Ron scooped it up.

"Scabbers, where did you run off to last night?"

The fake rat huddled in his palm, its nose twitching, reacting a beat slow.

Harry looked over.

"It doesn't look very energetic."

Ron held the rat up to his eyes.

"Is that right, Scabbers?"

The fake rat just tried to burrow into his sleeve.

Ron stroked its back.

"Maybe it's frozen silly. The tower was freezing cold last night."

Harry asked: "Do you want to take it to see Hagrid?"

Ron immediately shoved the rat back into his robes.

"Don't. Hagrid will feed it something weird. Last time he said spiders were quite cute too."

Neville poked his head out from under his quilt.

"Spiders aren't cute."

Ron nodded.

"See, even Neville knows that."

Harry smiled and unwrapped another long, unsigned parcel.

A silvery-gray cloak slid out. As the morning light fell on the fabric, the whole thing felt impossibly light, yet there wasn't a single sign of wear on the edges.

The candy in Ron's mouth almost fell out.

"Merlin."

Harry picked up the cloak.

"What is this?"

Ron stared at it.

"Put it on."

Harry draped it over his shoulders.

Ron jumped out of bed and pointed at his legs.

"Your body is gone."

Harry looked down and could only see his own head and two hands.

He pulled the cloak tight, and his whole person vanished from the dormitory.

"How about now?"

Ron reached out and waved his hand through the air.

"Completely invisible. Harry, you've struck gold."

Neville also got out of bed.

"It really is invisible."

Harry pulled off the cloak, his face still showing surprise.

"Who would send me this?"

Ron picked up the note from the parcel.

"There's writing here."

Harry took the note and read it aloud.

"Your father left this with me before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well."

The dormitory went quiet.

Ron scratched his head.

"Your father's thing?"

Harry put the note away, his fingers lingering on the edge of the cloak.

"It must be."

Ron looked at the cloak.

"Then you can go to the Library tonight."

"Ron."

"I'm just saying you can, I didn't say go now."

Neville whispered a reminder.

"Don't get caught by Filch."

Ron patted his pocket.

"With this thing, Filch won't be able to catch him."

The fake rat turned over in his pocket and continued to gnaw on cookie crumbs.

Ron nodded in satisfaction.

"As long as it can eat, it's fine."

At the same time, in the Slytherin dormitory, Draco sat by the bed, already dressed in his robes.

Crabbe was holding a gift box.

"Are we going to the Great Hall now?"

Goyle looked toward Allen's bed curtains.

"Is he still sleeping?"

Draco placed the box with the silver-green ribbon on the table.

"If he was really sleeping last night, I'll eat this whole box of Sugar Quill feathers."

Allen's voice came from inside the bed curtains.

"That box was a gift from Lucius, don't waste it."

Draco looked over immediately.

"You're awake?"

Allen pulled back the curtains; his outer robes were already neatly arranged.

"It's Christmas morning. There's hot food in the Great Hall."

Crabbe's eyes lit up.

"And pudding."

Goyle added.

"And turkey."

Draco stared at Allen.

"You didn't go out last night?"

Allen picked up a book.

"Did you see me go out last night?"

Draco scoffed.

"I saw someone sleeping in the bed, and I heard breathing."

"That's enough."

Draco stood up.

"Potter, this way of talking will get you into trouble sooner or later."

Allen looked at Crabbe and Goyle.

"Has anyone asked?"

Crabbe shook his head.

"I was asleep."

Goyle also shook his head.

"I was asleep too."

Draco sneered.

"The two of them are the safest witnesses, certainly."

Allen put away his book.

"Let's go to the Great Hall."

Only the students staying at school were sitting in the Great Hall; more than half the long tables were empty, and the Christmas tree was hung with streamers.

Harry and Ron were already sitting at the Gryffindor table; Hermione was not there, and the twins were waving at them from a few seats away.

Draco swept a glance over.

"The Chosen One seems to be having a good time."

Allen sat at the end of the Slytherin table.

"The Weasley Family gave him a sweater."

Draco cut into a roasted potato.

"You even know that?"

"He's wearing it."

Draco looked over; sure enough, Harry was wearing the red sweater.

"A fashion disaster."

Crabbe asked: "Are sweaters bad?"

"That color is too loud."

Goyle looked down at his plate.

"As long as it's warm, it's fine."

Draco couldn't be bothered to pay attention to him and turned his gaze to Ron's pocket.

"That rat is still there?"

Allen picked up his cup.

"Yes."

Draco swallowed his voice back into his throat.

"What about the real one?"

"Safe."

Draco's knife and fork stopped.

"Can it fool Weasley?"

At the Gryffindor table, Ron was shoving a small piece of pudding toward his pocket.

Fake Scabbers poked its head out, took a bite, and shrank back in.

Ron said to Harry: "See, it's just frozen silly; it doesn't miss a beat when it comes to eating."

Harry nodded.

"That's good."

After watching, Draco curled the corner of his lip.

"Weasley really should thank his own dullness."

Allen said: "Dullness can save lives sometimes."

Draco turned his head.

"Who are you talking about?"

"Ron."

Draco pressed on.

"Who else?"

Allen took a sip of pumpkin juice.

"You."

Draco put down his cup.

"It's Christmas, I can choose not to argue with you."

Crabbe raised his cup.

"Merry Christmas?"

Goyle also raised his cup.

"Merry Christmas."

Draco glared at them, but still picked up his cup.

"Fine, Merry Christmas."

Allen clinked his cup against theirs.

A crisp sound, drowned out by the laughter and chatter in the Great Hall.

Draco looked toward the Gryffindor table.

"So it was successful last night."

"It was."

"No traces left behind?"

"None."

"No one woke up?"

"Ron talked in his sleep."

Crabbe was curious.

"What did he say?"

"To tell Scabbers not to grab the pie."

Goyle nodded.

"Reasonable."

Draco couldn't help but laugh.

"Weasley is grabbing food even in his dreams."

Allen put down his cup.

"He will remember today that Scabbers ate pudding, and he will also remember that Scabbers was sleeping in his pocket."

Draco looked at him.

"You want him to provide proof for you himself?"

"He will provide proof for Scabbers."

Draco was silent for a moment.

"You really are uncomfortable to be around."

"But it's useful."

Draco didn't refute this.

Over at Gryffindor, Harry suddenly reached into his robes and touched something.

Allen's fingertips rested on the handle of his cup.

Inside the Portable Space, the cracked pocket watch beside the ebony box exuded a blue light; the void raised its head, its silver vertical pupils aimed toward the Great Hall.

Peter in the cage slapped the transparent wall, but couldn't make a sound.

Draco noticed Allen had stopped moving.

"What's wrong?"

Allen looked at Harry.

"He received something."

"What kind of thing?"

"A cloak that can make people disappear."

Draco frowned.

"An invisibility cloak?"

"An old thing from the Potter Family."

Draco put down his knife and fork.

"You're not planning to take it?"

"It's more suitable in his hands right now."

Draco understood half of it.

"Because he'll use it to cause trouble?"

Allen watched Harry put away the cloak.

"He will use it to draw others out."

Draco looked toward the Gryffindor table, the mockery on his face receding somewhat.

"You're using your cousin as bait; that's very Potter."

Allen looked at him.

"Don't insult the Potters."

Draco picked up his cup.

"Then here's to your fake rat."

Allen clinked his cup.

"To the oblivious Ron."

Crabbe raised his cup.

"To pudding."

Goyle nodded along.

"To turkey."

Draco pressed his temples.

"You two, shut up."

Ron's laughter came from the Gryffindor table.

Harry hid the cloak inside his clothes, his palm lingering on the wrapping paper for a moment.

Allen withdrew his gaze and continued eating breakfast.

Deep within the Portable Space, the blue light of the cracked pocket watch retreated into the cracks, and the void coiled outside the cage, guarding Peter, who still couldn't speak.

Christmas carols rose in the Great Hall, and the fake Scabbers in Ron's pocket turned over; no one noticed it had been swapped last night.