Christmas was coming, and the halls were filled with noise and holly wreathes. Peeves was singing a rather rude version of Jingle Bells, but everyone was ignoring him (except for Fred and George Weasley, who had no doubt put him up to it). Students were hiding large parcels in the closets, and Slytherins were threatening others with "no gift for you".

During a particularly difficult Herbology session where the students were dealing with Hairy Holly, which had to be pruned and styled so that it didn't shed all over the castle, Chloe was conversing with her friend Ginny.

"I'm going home for Christmas, personally," said Ginny as she pruned a rambunctious bit of Hairy Holly. "But stubborn old Ron is staying here with Harry. What are your plans?"

"I'm staying here at Hogwarts. Some of my family is already here," Chloe blurted, then grimaced. She hadn't meant to let that bit slip.

"Oh, well, I'll tell Mum and she'll send you a sweater. She loves sending Christmas sweaters." Ginny leaned in, as if to confide in Chloe. "I have twelve Christmas sweaters at home already. They're all red and gold for Gryffindor. My whole family is full of Gryffindors, but I'll tell her you're a Slytherin. She'll love the challenge."

"Less talking, more pruning!" called their teacher, Professor Sprout. She was a small, stout woman, with a mess of frizzy brown hair.

Chloe smiled and cut back a wad of holly. "So your parents don't disapprove of your being friends with a Slytherin?"

Ginny laughed. "Just because all of the bad guys come from Slytherin doesn't mean that Slytherins are all bad guys. Dad is delighted, thinks you'll be a nice change of pace."

Chloe stored that away in her brain. Just because I'm a Slytherin doesn't mean I have to be bad. I will be the nicest Slytherin you ever did see.

                                                                                *                 *                   *

Chloe awoke on Christmas morning to a mountain of presents at the foot of her bed. Some were in bags, some were wrapped artfully with ribbon and sparkle (and probably magic), and some were just hidden in crumpled butcher paper, but all of them had her name on them.

The first gift was large and wrapped in silver, with a green velvet ribbon. This must be from Ginny's mother. Once she opened it, Chloe bit back a laugh. Inside was a thick woolen sweater, green with a large silver "C" in the center, and a small box of homemade walnut fudge. She pulled on the sweater over her striped nightshirt and took a big piece of fudge.

The second box was decidedly smaller, one wrapped in crumpled paper with her name written on it. Her name was, itself, written in unsteady print. Colhe Chole   Chloe. Inside was a small book entitled Potions for Pros, and the dedication inside was scrawled, To Chloe- You don't need potions help, but you could have fun with this. -Harry.

The last box in the heap was small, black, and soft velvet. Chloe opened it and gasped. Inside was a small silver necklace with a beautiful thin chain. The pendant was a filigreed silver "C" with small, sparkling stones. It looked so delicate and beautiful lying on the white satin lining of the box, and made her sweater look clunky and juvenile. There was no note, no signature, not even an initial, but the necklace itself seemed calling card enough. She put on a deep green dress, her beloved Slytherin scarf, and her necklace. She braided her hair in the mirror and then, with a pang, folded her new Christmas sweater on the foot of his bed.