Dream Gods

After they had eaten and drunk their fill, a long time had passed. Darkness had long since fallen, and the howling wind and snow outside seemed to have grown even fiercer.

But the atmosphere in the dining room of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place had already been whipped into a fever pitch.

After finishing Christmas dinner and having a few glasses of Honey Sherry, Dumbledore returned to Hogwarts. He seemed to have some official business to attend to.

What pleased Harry, however, was that Tierra had stayed behind.

During the meal, Mrs. Weasley's misgivings seemed to have gradually eased under the combined efforts of Dumbledore and Mr. Weasley. She was no longer quite so hostile toward Tierra, and after dinner, she even had Harry bring Tierra a plate of freshly baked custard tarts.

—Though Mrs. Weasley had done so with a grim expression, it was still progress, Harry thought.

Harry happily agreed. It had been a long time since he had properly talked with Tierra. Of course, waking up from the Cold Wasteland of the Dreamlands last night did not count. With Christmas arriving, Tierra's work finally seemed to have eased up a little.

Harry, Tierra, the Weasley family, and their guests sat in the second-floor drawing room of Grimmauld Place. Ginny Weasley had been so extravagant with the fine gold dust and gold foil while decorating that the once fairly elegant room now looked more like the aftermath of a series of dizzying explosions.

Fred, George, Harry, and Ron were among the few who knew that the angel at the top of the tree was actually a gnome who had bitten Fred in an attempt to steal the carrot pie from Christmas dinner.

To punish—or perhaps tease—the gnome, Fred had used Petrification Powder to stiffen its body, then painted it