Chapter 118: Christmas Gift

"Oh, how amazing." Harry glanced at the book cover. "This was the Christmas gift I gave Professor Binns in my first year."

"What? You gave a professor a gift?" Ron exclaimed.

"Back then, Professor Binns answered the question about Nicolas Flamel and immediately helped us pinpoint the Philosopher's Stone." Harry evaded the truth. "So out of gratitude, I decided to give him a Christmas present."

"So with Christmas coming again this year, are you planning to keep giving him gifts?" Ron asked.

"We'll see. At least Professor Lupin definitely deserves one. Maybe I'll even consider giving one to Snape." Harry mused. "Dumbledore's giving him a pair of wool socks. But what should I get Professor Dobby?"

"I don't get why you're even thinking of giving Snape a gift," Ron said, puzzled. "That old bat hates all Gryffindors."

"Don't say that. It's just a gift. I'm even thinking of giving Malfoy a quill." Harry said. "It doesn't take much effort, but it looks good on the surface."

"Maybe Snape will deduct fewer points from us if he gets a gift?" Ron teased. "Then I'll give him a bottle of shampoo."

"He'll deduct even more. Forget it." Harry shut down the crazy idea. "Let's ask Carlan—he's Snape's old classmate. Maybe he knows something about Snape's preferences."

Harry and Ron spent their free time discussing all sorts of interesting things: Lupin's return, Filch's fury at the twins, the Quidditch schedule and Gryffindor's theoretical chances of winning the cup, while also mocking their friends' eccentric behavior—they felt they were the ones truly enjoying school life.

Until their next trip to Hogsmeade, Harry and Ron eagerly rushed to Honeydukes to restock their sweets, then strolled casually to the Gobstones shop.

Carlan welcomed the children warmly, brewed them tea, and casually mentioned recent oddities.

"You wouldn't believe it—a stunningly beautiful Eastern girl has moved into the Three Broomsticks. How beautiful? Let me tell you this: she's even prettier than Mrs. Rosmerta." As Carlan spoke, he pointed vaguely toward the Three Broomsticks, his eyes gleaming.

"Your spirit is truly youthful," Harry politely complimented.

"I've seen many girls. She's not top-tier, but she's young and charming. I'd say she's no older than twenty-five—looks like she just graduated." Carlan continued enthusiastically. "New faces are rare in Hogsmeade. Everyone's curious."

"That's certainly interesting, but I have another question for you," Harry said. "Actually, I'm trying to decide what to give Professor Snape for Christmas."

"Oh, that's tricky." Carlan scratched his head. "I think he might need a few young girls… uh, I mean, how about a box of Gobstones?"

"Do you think he'd like that?" Harry said uncertainly.

"I'd say Snape doesn't like anything," Ron shook his head.

"You might not know, but Snape's mother used to be captain of the Gobstones team and competed in several inter-school matches," Carlan explained.

"Then…" Ron scratched his head. "Buy another box and give it to Snape?"

"Better than shampoo." After much hesitation, Harry decided to pay—he simply couldn't imagine what Snape might like.

"Good children, my Gobstones are absolutely worth every knut—all imported from America," Carlan smiled as he wrapped the gift, then began boasting about how advanced American industry was.

"You must understand, thanks to its liberal academic environment, American elite wizards have explored magic far beyond wizards of other countries," he said. "Children are full of creativity, imagining all sorts of magical spells, and when they grow up, they turn them into reality."

"There was once an international summer camp where British, French, and American children traveled together…"

"Excuse me, Mr. Sanger," Harry couldn't help interrupting. "The beautiful girl you mentioned has got me distracted—I can't wait to go see her."

"Of course, you're young," Carlan smiled. "But British society is still too repressed about such things—not as open and free as America…"

Harry grabbed the package and pulled Ron out the door.

"I thought he was kind of interesting," Ron mused. "I think our system has problems."

"Going into that shop was a complete mistake," Harry shook his head. "We went twice, bought a box of Gobstones both times—and they were both plastic."

"That's not anyone else's fault," Ron shrugged. "You're the one who wanted to give Snape a gift."

"And Carlan kept talking about America—I'm sick of hearing it." Harry rolled his eyes. "Forget it. Let's get some butterbeer and see this beautiful girl he mentioned."

When they sat down at the Three Broomsticks, Ron eagerly pointed and shouted for Harry to look.

A woman in a white dress sat in the corner. Harry instantly recognized her as Daisy.

"The girl Carlan mentioned must be her—she's really beautiful," Ron marveled.

"Don't stare. That's Cui Ge's mother," Harry explained. "She came to the school looking for him."

"Huh?" Ron exclaimed. "But she looks so young."

"Yeah, I remember Cui Ge saying casually that his mother plans to take him on a tour of Britain during Christmas. She's probably staying here until then."

"I bet everyone will think they're siblings," Ron stared blankly in that direction.

"Wait, Cui Ge is twelve this year," Harry counted on his fingers. "According to Carlan, his mother isn't over twenty-five—and she really looks it."

"So she gave birth to Cui Ge at thirteen?" Ron said in shock. "In third year?"

"This is just unbelievable," Harry didn't know how to react.

Back at school, Harry happened to see Professor McGonagall. She came over, concerned, asking if his broom had been repaired.

"Probably not, Professor. I'm looking for other options." After saying that, Harry impulsively asked, "By the way, can a third-year girl have a child?"

"Who dares?!" McGonagall's blood pressure shot up. "I'd expel her immediately—and the boy who got her pregnant too!"

Harry stuck out his tongue. So theoretically it was possible—just ethically unacceptable.

"Tell me, Potter—who is it?" McGonagall snapped. Harry noticed she had already gripped her wand.

"Not a Hogwarts student, Professor," Harry explained. "We were just discussing how young Cui Ge's mother looks, and wondering if she gave birth to him very early."

"Oh, I see." McGonagall's anger subsided. "I advise you not to focus too much on gossip about classmates. Focus on your studies."

"Yes, Professor. Actually, I have another question." Harry asked. "If I'm interested in Animagus transformation, when do you think it's appropriate to begin practicing?"

"I suggest you wait until seventh year," McGonagall's expression softened. She pursed her lips. "It's extremely dangerous magic. One misstep could cost you your life."

After parting with Professor McGonagall, Harry and Ron resumed discussing a new broom—he still hadn't decided whether to buy one outright or try to make one himself.

"Harry, Grandpa Crowley said he's going on a business trip to Latvia," Ivy said as soon as they entered the common room.

"So we're staying at school for Christmas again?" Harry said carelessly. "Actually, staying here is more fun than going home."

"Yeah, if I stay, I won't have to see Percy for two weeks," Ron clutched his chest as if Percy were some monstrous demon.

"Then I'm staying too," Ginny raised her hand. "I don't want to see Percy either."

"Oh, have you considered what if Percy stays too?" Fred grinned, approaching.

"The Head Boy must continue managing the school during Christmas," George mimicked Percy's tone, reciting solemnly.

"George, Fred," Harry still felt a pang of guilt seeing his teammates. "What have you been up to lately?"

"Our great struggle with Filch will never end," Fred said. "But lately…"

"We've been thinking about how to cheer you up," George grinned, slinging an arm around Harry's shoulders.

Harry felt warmth spread through his chest.

"Now, come quietly with us—don't let fat Ron know," Fred said right in front of Ron.

"We're giving you your Christmas gift early—it's a big surprise," George said.

Amid Ron's protesting glare, the Weasley twins led Harry out of the common room, winding through corridors until they reached an empty classroom on the third floor. Fred checked that no one was watching, then pulled out a piece of parchment from his robe.

"This, Harry, is our secret to ruling the world," George affectionately patted the parchment.

"It pains us to let it go," Fred said. "But we don't need it anymore—and giving it to you is perfect."