Chapter 56: Christmas Gifts

Christmas was approaching, and Hogwarts had been buried under a heavy snowfall; the snow on the ground was several feet deep, and the lake’s surface was frozen solid.

The Weasley twins had enchanted several snowballs to chase Professor Quirrell around, smashing into the back of his purple turban, and they were punished for it.

Alan was present when it happened; he silently cheered for the Weasley brothers in his heart and analyzed the spell they’d used on the snowballs, concluding it was a combination of the Levitation Charm and the Transfiguration Charm.

They used the Levitation Charm to make the snowballs fly, and the Transfiguration Charm to imbue them with movement logic and targets—or to establish a link and control their flight paths in real time.

This made him regard the Weasley brothers with new respect; not only were they proficient with spells, but they used them with such creativity—he’d need to talk to them more often in the future.

Last week, Professor McGonagall came to register students staying at Hogwarts for the holidays, and Harry and Alan immediately signed their names.

“I really feel sorry for those people,” Draco Malfoy said during Potions class, “having to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because their families don’t want them.”

As he spoke, he looked directly at Alan and Harry, while Crabbe and Goyle snickered beside him.

But Alan and Harry paid him no mind; Malfoy’s expression grew even darker.

They had no regret about staying at Hogwarts for Christmas—they looked forward to it. Ron and his twin brothers were also staying, because Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were traveling to Romania to visit Charlie.

Hermione was going home for Christmas, but she still remembered her search for “Nicolas Flamel,” and she gave Harry and his two friends a list of books, asking them to look for information in the library during the holidays and send her updates via Hedwig.

They agreed enthusiastically—but after the holidays began, all three promptly forgot about it.

Ron and Harry were having too much fun to think about Flamel; their dormitory was entirely theirs to themselves, and the common room was far less crowded, allowing them to claim the most comfortable armchairs by the fire.

Alan, meanwhile, realized that with fewer people around during the break, it was easier to practice Dark Magic, so he trained even harder—and forgot Hermione’s earnest request.

On Christmas morning, Alan was woken by Harry.

“Alan, wake up and open your presents! We’ve all gotten gifts!” Harry exclaimed excitedly.

Alan had expected to feel calm at the word “presents,” but he was wrong—he felt a surge of excitement. He leapt out of bed and saw Harry and Ron already unwrapping the piles of gifts beside their beds; his own bedfoot held a pile too.

Ron’s pile was the largest, Harry’s was slightly smaller, and his was the smallest.

But this didn’t dampen his joy at receiving gifts—it was the first time he’d received any since arriving in this world. He stared at the gifts beside his bed, his eyes slightly damp; the long-standing pressure seemed to vanish. Suddenly, he didn’t want to practice spells, study Ancient Runes, or search for Nicolas Flamel—he just wanted to forget all his worries and enjoy this day fully.

Alan joined in the gift-opening.

He picked up a small package first; when he opened it, he found a crudely made flute. He didn’t need to guess—it was from Hagrid.

“I didn’t expect Hagrid to give you a flute too…” Harry held up his own identical flute, tried to blow it, but couldn’t produce a sound—yet it didn’t ruin his excitement.

Alan shrugged helplessly; he couldn’t play the flute either, but he carefully put it away.

At that moment, Ron leaned over.

He pointed to the largest package in Harry’s and Alan’s piles and said, “I know who sent this.” His face turned red, looking embarrassed. “I’ve mentioned you two to Mum so often—I never thought she’d knit you both Weasley sweaters.”

Alan and Harry exchanged a glance, both surprised; they quickly unwrapped the package. Harry’s was green; Alan’s was orange.

“I hope you don’t hate them,” Ron mumbled, holding up his own sweater—crimson-red.

“We don’t!” Harry and Alan said in unison.

Next came Hermione’s gift: a box of Chocolate Frogs for each of them.

Alan popped one into his mouth, feeling the frog’s struggle and sweetness, and marveled again at the magic of it all.

Then Alan grew nervous—Harry and Ron were now opening his gifts.

“What’s this?” Ron asked, staring at a bulging bag he’d pulled out; Harry had found an identical one.

“Ahem…” Alan cleared his throat, drawing their attention. “Those are my gifts—things I collected in the Forbidden Forest. Delicious.”

Harry and Ron quickly opened the bags and found them filled with pine nuts—large, plump, and fresh. They cracked one open and tasted it.

“Whoa! So fragrant! This is the best pine nut I’ve ever eaten!” Ron exclaimed.

“Yeah! I’ve never had pine nuts before—and they’re amazing!” Harry cracked open another.

Alan finally relaxed: “I spent ages gathering them in the Forbidden Forest, picking out the best ones for you.”

Harry seemed to realize something, hesitating as he asked, “Did you give Hermione pine nuts too?” Ron looked puzzled by the question.

Alan instantly understood Harry’s implication. He laughed, half-annoyed, half-amused: “Don’t worry—I gave Hermione a bag of dried berries. Very sweet.”

Harry instantly relaxed and burst out laughing.

Alan had originally prepared three bags of pine nuts—but when it came time to give them out, he remembered Hermione’s teeth. She was too smart not to think he was mocking them, so to save his own life, he swapped the pine nuts for dried berries at the last minute.

He hadn’t expected Harry to make the connection immediately.

After Harry explained it to him, Ron understood—and laughed too.

Now only one final paper-wrapped package remained. Harry gently unwrapped it.

A liquid-like, silvery substance slid softly onto the floor, pooling into a shimmering heap.

Alan and Ron both gasped.

They both recognized what it was.

Alan had seen this magical item in countless short videos—he never imagined Harry would get it like this.

“I think I know what it is,” Ron whispered involuntarily. “It’s extremely rare.”

“What is it?” Harry picked up the shimmering fabric from the floor.

Ron said with certainty:

“Invisibility Cloak.”