On Christmas Eve, Hogwarts Castle was every bit as lively as the bustling streets of London.
The Great Hall's vaulted ceiling had been enchanted, and warm, dry flakes of magical snow drifted down slowly like feathers.
They did not cling to clothing or melt upon the ground, refracting silvery-blue glimmers in the candlelight, as though stars had fallen into the mortal world.
A towering Christmas tree stood in the center of the Great Hall, its crown reaching the ceiling. Countless ice-crystal ornaments hung from its branches, rotating on their own, each reflecting the smiling face of a different student.
Just like last year, the walls had been coated in a thin layer of frosting-like silver rime.
Even the portraits brimmed with festive cheer. In the Headmaster's Office, the portrait of Headmaster Phineas Black wore a pointed Christmas hat and was drinking hot apple cider with the portrait of Headmaster Armando Dippet next door.
Peeves had also received a Christmas hat, though it was a little too large and covered his entire head.
Dumbledore wore a deep purple velvet robe today, embroidered with flowing silver threads that formed stars and crescent moons, as though he had draped the entire night sky around himself.
Standing before the staff table, his voice was deep and clear like a hearth fire on a winter night. "Children, another year has quietly turned its page amid your laughter, tears, and courage."
His blue eyes unconsciously glanced toward the Gryffindor table, toward that empty seat. "You have learned to light hope with your wands, and you have learned to hold one another's hands in the darkness.
"I need not speak of peace, because true peace does not lie in the shelter of spells, but in the light within your hearts that has never gone out."
Some students