Chapter 385

Behind him were three pairs of lively eyes, and as soon as Xiang Xiang Xien entered the room, the little McGons erupted into cheers.

“It’s Professor Green!” Sarah said.

“The best Christmas ever!” Bade raised his two short arms.

“Oh, Sarah, Bade, such a lack of ambition… Mr. Green, may I trade you this pretty wrapper for one of those interesting cookies in your small bag?”

Zoe appeared shy, but she was the first to scamper over.

Soon, Xiang Xiang Xien was overwhelmed by the three little McGons; it took some effort to shoo them away.

“Christmas… oh, Christmas…”

Marcus sat on his usual soft sofa, smiling as if murmuring to himself.

“Merry Christmas, Grandpa Marcus.”

Xiang Xiang Xien placed a neatly wrapped sky-blue gift box into Marcus’s hands, then sat on a chair beside the fireplace.

Snowflakes still danced outside the window. A catling lay curled before the hearth, like a large ginger-colored fur rug.

“Ah, gifts, oh, gifts… yes, look at this—”

Marcus carefully, painstakingly placed the gift box into the cabinet, as if tending to fragile glass.

Then he pulled out a long, narrow box and winked as he handed it to Xiang Xiang Xien.

Xiang Xiang Xien regarded the box curiously, not rushing to unwrap it.

As he observed, a lady descended the stairs, her hair neatly curled and tightly styled.

The moment she reached the bottom step, her bright eyes seemed to glisten with moisture:

“Dear Minerva…”

Before Professor McGonagall could react, the woman’s hand had already rested on her back.

“How long has it been since I last saw you… if you ask me how heavy this longing is… not heavy at all—just the snow of a winter mountain.”

In the remote southern suburbs of London, the fields were frozen under January’s cold wind.

Wherever one looked, villages, hills, riverbanks, ruined walls, and barren graves were draped in white melancholy.

Amid the crackling fire and the gurgling kettle, only Nai’s bright yet faint voice remained.

“We are so consumed by grief that we forget to care for the living, especially those who long for love…”

“I’ve heard those terrible things again, Minerva.”

Marcus says that if the Dark Lord returns, he will go to the battlefield no matter what.

I know. I believe it. At the very least, when capable people make an effort, they can ensure fewer souls are harmed and fewer families torn apart.

I spoke with him—‘If you believe this is a worthy goal, then let us march into battle together.’”

Nai’s eyes carried an unrelenting sorrow; she was a witch herself, and well-acquainted with affairs in the British magical world.

“You… have made a great decision.”

Professor McGonagall gazed into the distance, her expression grave.

“But Minerva, why do we fight?

Is it for ourselves, purely to escape those terrible rulers—or for others, those strangers, whether in or outside the magical world?”

Nai’s topic was too heavy; though the little McGons didn’t understand, they sensed something profound.

So they stayed no longer in the parlor, running out instead to frolic in the snow.

Nai looked at Xiang Xiang Xien—the young wizard whose fair cheeks had turned rosy from the wind and snow after her tight embrace.

“We fight for our next generation of witches and wizards, so they won’t have to fight at all.

We, the remnants of the old era, the witches who know the sorrow brought by tyrannical rule… we must fight to the end.”

She said.

“Nai, you’ve always been decisive.”

Professor McGonagall sighed deeply.

“Minerva, send him away—if what happened at Hogwarts is true,

then the Dark Lord’s return is inevitable.

Wogadu, the Magical Institute, Castelobruxo—all are excellent choices.

This land will soon ignite in war; this fire must not scorch tender souls.”

Nai’s earnest tone shook Minerva McGonagall.

“Hogwarts is the safest place.”

After a pause, Minerva McGonagall finally spoke.

“I knew you’d say that. But I only hope you realize one thing:

You’ve become his Secret-Keeper—so long as you’re with him, he will not be harmed.”

With a low sigh, the conversation ended.

…

Upstairs, Xiang Xiang Xien was unwrapping Marcus’s gift.

Inside lay a brand-new wand and a parchment-style Portkey.

Curious, Xiang Xiang Xien pulled out the letter resting at the center of the box and began to read.

【My dear little Green, were you startled by this gift?

The one on the left is your new wand—ah, I must whisper this: this wand can be used anywhere without being tracked.

Isn’t that surprising?—But don’t rush to thank your all-powerful Grandpa Marcus yet. First, look at Nai’s gift.

It’s a Portkey, leading to a special place, a place protected by the Fidelius Charm, a place that belongs solely to you.

I am honored to be your Secret-Keeper, but of course, I’ve prepared another option—oh, Minerva, she’s happy to help…

How’s that? A cottage that will never be found! Merlin, that was my childhood dream.】

As the letter was gently set down, Bai Yi peered curiously at it, her paw casting a shadow over the page.

Xiang Xiang Xien tucked the letter, the wand, and the parchment Portkey into his Book of Witches, gazing at the distant mountains—as if the shadow of war had never left.

At least, time had never healed the wounds in the hearts of witches who lost their loved ones.

…

Aside from the slightly oppressive atmosphere on the first day, life on the farm was mostly light and joyful.

Marcus began his farmwork before dawn, using minor magic to keep the entire farm orderly, ensuring the McGon Villa remained self-sufficient.

In truth, a witch rarely starves.

Besides using Confundus Charms and other methods to obtain food and drink from the Muggle world, witches and their families can easily claim vast, uninhabited lands for cultivation and harvest;

accelerating crop growth with magic is no difficult task.

Raising chickens, ducks, geese, and pigs is simple (as the Weasleys do);

Growth Charms and Weather Charms can allow crops to be harvested multiple times within months.

Even further, like Xiang Xiang Xien’s Book of Witches, he can directly cut space to grow any plant—and raise nearly any animal.