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The silvery white of Christmas quietly blanketed Hogwarts Castle, and the once-bustling campus quickly fell silent.
Most students had been taken home by their worried parents, leaving the vast castle empty and desolate, with only a few figures remaining.
Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger—three second-year students who always seemed to attract trouble—still lingered in the ancient castle, the few bright spots in the holiday's chill.
In the Gryffindor boys' dormitory, only Harry and Ron were left; everyone else had gone home for Christmas.
They were woken by Hermione, who, clutching gifts for them, boldly burst into the boys' dormitory.
"Get up!" Already dressed with her scarf tied neatly around her neck, she shouted, "I said wake up, do you know what time it is already?" With a sharp swish, she yanked open the curtains.
"Hermione? You shouldn't be in here! This is the boys' dormitory…"
Harry shielded his eyes from the dazzling sunlight, his voice still thick with sleep. Dobby's visit the night before had disturbed him, and he hadn't fallen asleep until nearly dawn.
Ron buried his head in his pillow and mumbled, "Don't bother me… I didn't sleep well last night. Felt like I dreamed someone was slapping me…"
"If you don't get up now, I guarantee someone really will slap you immediately!" Hermione said, hands on her hips, her voice fierce.
Ron jolted, his drowsiness nearly gone. To prevent his dream from coming true, he scrambled out of bed.
"Somnolentia evapore!"
The young witch waved her wand, and the last of their grogginess disappeared.
"Whoa.. you mastered Professor Greengrass' Sleep Evaporation spell this fast?"
"Heh~" Hermione showed a cheeky grin.
The next moment, a gift dropped into Ron's arms.
"Merry Christmas!" Before Hermione even finished speaking, another gift landed neatly on Harry's bed—it was a beautiful eagle-feather quill.
Harry caught it with a smile, examining it admiringly.
"Thank you, Hermione!"
Just then, Hedwig flew in through the window Hermione had opened, carrying a small, simply wrapped gift box in her beak. Harry took it in surprise.
"Who sent it?" Ron asked casually.
Harry first stroked Hedwig's feathers gently, then carefully unwrapped the package.
"Oh, it's from the Dursleys…" He pulled out the contents, his tone flat. "A toothpick."
A crumpled note had been stuffed in as well, looking like a scrap torn from an old newspaper.
Harry squinted at the crooked handwriting, reading softly, "Ask the Headmaster, if you can stay in that rotten place for the summer too!"
"They're really mean, aren't they?" Ron wrinkled his nose.
"Oh, this is actually friendly," Harry said indifferently, tossing the toothpick and note aside.
In contrast, the other gifts were much warmer.
Hagrid had sent a large bag of sticky treacle toffees, which Harry decided to warm by the fireplace later.
Ron had given him a copy of Flying with the Cannons, about his favorite Quidditch team.
And the last large package he opened contained a thick, hand-knitted sweater from Mrs. Weasley, along with a heavy raisin cake filled with nuts.
Harry picked up Mrs. Weasley's handwritten card, and a strong wave of guilt suddenly washed over him.
Mr. Weasley's flying car—it had completely disappeared after crashing into the Whomping Willow two months ago… and the Ministry of Magic's investigation into Mr. Weasley because of it… these things weighed on Harry's heart like stones.
"Come on, let's go to the Great Hall for breakfast!" Hermione urged excitedly, her eyes sparkling. "I glimpsed it last night when I passed by. It's absolutely beautiful—I've never seen such a magnificent Great Hall!"
"Really? Better than last year?" Ron asked casually. "Professor Greengrass decorated it last year, and I even got a whole box of Chocolate Frogs from a gift box after all!"
"I'm so jealous of you two. It's a shame I didn't stay last year," Hermione said with a slight raise of her eyebrow. "But it doesn't matter—Professor Greengrass is decorating it this year too. I'm going to open a few more gift boxes later. Hopefully I can get two of the Professor's unique spells."
"Have you already learned those two spells?" Harry asked curiously.
A triumphant smile immediately spread across Hermione's face. "You'll find out tonight!"
A moment later, the three of them walked together toward the Great Hall.
...
The Great Hall was magnificent and dazzling.
A dozen tall Christmas trees stood covered in sparkling silver frost, and the ceiling was draped with ornate garlands woven from emerald-green holly and white mistletoe.
Most wondrous of all, warm, dry snowflakes drifted down from the enchanted ceiling, shimmering beautifully in the candlelight.
Percy hadn't noticed at all that Fred had tampered with his Prefect badge—the words on it had already changed to "Bighead."
He was still asking the surrounding students, who were trying hard not to laugh, what was so funny, looking utterly bewildered.
At the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy was already seated, eating breakfast.
He cut his food without expression, his knife and fork moving mechanically, as though the surrounding merriment had nothing to do with him.
"Hi, Little Ginny!" George suddenly poked his head in front of his sister, grinning mischievously. "You look good today!"
"Go away!" Ginny pushed his face aside impatiently, quickening her steps to squeeze between Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
"Heard you made new friends, huh?" Fred stretched his neck, refusing to give up.
"None of your business!" Ginny shot back without turning her head.
"I bet they've all gone home for Christmas, right?" Fred teased again.
"I said—it's none of your business!" Ginny's voice rose an octave, her irritation plain.
When the noisy students rushed toward the Christmas tree laden with gift boxes, they found it already surrounded by excited young wizards, who burst into cheers now and then.
"This tree is definitely magic!" a younger student shouted in excitement. "I just thought about getting a Christmas hat—hey, look!"
He proudly showed off the suddenly appeared, slightly comical red wool hat in his hand to those around him.
"Alright." Ron walked up to the magical Christmas tree, took a deep breath, and whispered expectantly, "I hope I can get a new wand."
Saying this, he reached out and pulled down a beautifully wrapped gift box from the tree.
"Ron," Harry reminded him from the side, "if you really want a wand, maybe you should pick the long, rectangular box?"
"Oh, you're right." Ron seemed to snap awake, quickly hung the flashy box back, and instead took down the slender one.
He held his breath and carefully unwrapped it. Lying quietly inside was—astonishingly—a giant sugar stick, more than a foot long, covered in colorful frosting.
"Uh… at least it's not nothing…" Harry said a bit dryly.
"Pfft~!!"
A wave of good-natured laughter rippled through the crowd around them. Other young wizards also began reaching for gift boxes, most of which contained candies and snacks, quirky little trinkets, and, of course, some useful items.
For example, Hermione received a copy of Dark Arts: A Guide to Self-Defense.
It was a Ministry of Magic Auror training manual, filled with methods for breaking dark curses and counter-curses, along with some practical spells.
Most importantly, the blank spaces on the pages of her copy were covered in sharp, forceful annotations and corrections.
Hermione had a strong feeling they had been written by Professor Greengrass. She hugged the book tightly to her chest as though it were a priceless treasure, unwilling to let it go, not even allowing anyone nearby to glimpse it.