Christmas Gifts

"Coo, coo, coo..."

Faint sunlight filtered through the clouds, morning mist, and curtains onto Nelson's face. He struggled upright, and the blanket slid from his stomach to the floor with his movement. Looking toward the windowsill, he saw that the window was cracked open and the heavy curtains occasionally swayed. The sunlight in the City of Fog was never so direct; it always made it hard to tell morning from evening. Judging from the sun's position, he could barely determine that it was morning.

Nelson reached for the glass of water on his bedside table. The icy touch made him pull it away from his lips at once. Thanks to it, he finally woke from his groggy state. He poured the cold water into the flowerpot on the windowsill, then held the glass and felt its surface gradually grow warm beneath his palms, until it was almost hot. He lifted it again, took a sip of hot water, and woke up completely. Suddenly, his head felt heavy, and his face stung fiercely. He turned to look at the mirror on the wardrobe door and saw several tiny red claw marks stamped across his left cheek.

Nelson swiftly reached up and plucked Tom's rather unhappy Collared Owlet off his head.

Holding the furious little owl high and enduring its frenzied pecking at his forearm, Nelson removed a rolled piece of parchment from its ankle.

Nelson:

From your two consecutive letters, it seemed the matter had become urgent enough. Wizards who could use magic before receiving an education had been exceptionally rare throughout such a long history, not to mention using it to take things from a wizard's pocket. Every one of them had either been remarkably gifted... or died young due to magical outbursts.

Actually, you needn't worry too much. Occasional magical agitation was something every young wizard experienced. Shattering a cup was nothing unusual... after all, unusual experiences could make some children overly delicate and sensitive.

Nelson, although it was somewhat inappropriate to ask you to do something during the holidays, please find her as soon as possible and explain the situation to her. I will bring you something at breakfast. It is something I specially made, ■■■■■■■ (crossed out), and it can effectively curb the potential of becoming an Obscurial. Give it to that girl. This may violate the rules, but life is more important than those tiresome procedures.

By the way, I am beginning to regret buying that owl for Tom. It truly is rather violent.

Yours faithfully,

Albus Dumbledore

Nelson tried to make out what Dumbledore had crossed out, but after staring at it for a long time without success, he gave up. After making his bed, opening the window wide, hugging the Collared Owlet and tossing it outside, he stuffed the parchment into his pajama pocket, got dressed, and shuffled downstairs in his slippers to wash up.

The moment he got out of bed, he tripped over something. Looking down, Nelson found a huge red-and-white striped woolen sock over a meter long. He bent down, picked it up, and tucked it beneath his arm. There seemed to be a stick or something inside. He smiled. Only Jonas would do something like this.

"Nal, your hair really looks like a bird's nest right now." Tom was brushing his teeth before the mirror. Seeing Nelson standing in the washroom doorway through the reflection, he teased him indistinctly.

"Because it really was a bird's nest just now." Nelson had just been about to greet him when he suddenly yawned, producing a strange sound instead. He fished his toothbrush from the cabinet and squeezed toothpaste onto it. "Merry Christmas."

After washing up, the two of them headed downstairs toward the living room.

"The self-inking pen is so useful." Jonas raised his head from behind the newspaper on the sofa and flashed them a white-toothed grin. "Do you like your Christmas presents?"

Tom pulled a thin silver chain from beneath his collar. It was set with slender shards of green gemstones, arranged into Runes that covered the length of the chain, apparently words of blessing and protection. The silver chain hung around Tom's long neck, and a black stone set in a silver ring dangled from its end. It was Tom's Amber. Under the living room light, the black gemstone looked remarkably like Tom's eyes, gleaming in the firelight's backlit glow.

"It suits you very well, Tom," Jonas praised sincerely.

"Thank you." Tom shyly tucked the necklace back inside his collar.

"Nal? Do you like your present?"

Nelson gripped the oversized sock in his hands and shook the stick inside out—a cane fell onto the sofa.

Nelson's feelings at that moment were complicated. It was difficult to say that this cane was not beautiful. In fact, it was extraordinarily luxurious.

It was around a meter long. The black handle was slender and straight, almost completely nonreflective. He could not tell what kind of wood it was, but when he held it, it felt cool and smooth. It had a solid weight and an even texture. It was the kind of good stick any man would want to claim for himself and swing around. The tip was wrapped in a thick layer of brushed brass. Near the upper section of the shaft was a golden metal band, densely engraved with the story of the Tower of Babel from Genesis. Above that, the head was fashioned like a crown around his own orange-yellow amber.

Nelson believed that if he carried it down the streets of London, he would definitely become the brightest star in the night sky.

"As an artist," Jonas cleared his throat and said with a smug shake of his head, "I know British culture very well."

"What do you know?" Bella came out of the kitchen wearing an apron, carrying a basket of bread, biscuits, and hot milk. Several jars of jam sat in the basket as well. She picked up the cane and swung it with a sharp whoosh—making the other three people in the room itch to take it from her and give it a swing themselves.

"Not only for Nal, I had one custom-made for Tom and myself too. I know every London gentleman needs a cane. It not only helps them get around, but it is also—" Jonas continued complacently, only for Bella to cut him off with a jab of the cane.

"Every London gentleman needs a cane?" Bella jabbed Jonas again and again in irritation. "Do you know when those were fashionable? Back in my grandfather's day. Who carries these things now besides old men? Do you want those two to be laughed at in school?"

"Actually, Aunt Bella," Tom spoke up from the side, "canes are still quite popular in the wizarding world."

Bella looked doubtfully at Tom, then at Nelson.

"That's true." Nelson agreed. The wizarding world's sense of fashion seemed to lag behind the Muggle world, as though the spread of fashion trends suffered from unimaginable network lag. Sometimes, in Diagon Alley shops, one could still see men wearing medieval stockings and velvet breeches. In a place like that, carrying a lavish cane out on the street would truly make someone the brightest star in the night sky...

"That is precisely because of my foresight—" Jonas felt better again and started taking credit, only for Bella to cut him off with another jab of the cane.

Christmas breakfast began amid such lively laughter and chatter.

"Nal, why do you keep looking around?" Jonas watched Nelson, who kept turning his head as if unable to sit still. "Can't find something?"

"I'm waiting for Dumbledore." Nelson's gaze moved back and forth between the fireplace and the door. "He said he was bringing something."

"Is he coming to London on Christmas?" Tom played with his cane, making it whoosh as he swung it, while chewing on a slice of bread and inspecting the fireplace. "How will he get here? Floo Powder?"

"That's what I'm curious about." Nelson looked up at the clock. "He's busy these days. I'm guessing it might be a messenger, or a duplicate... or perhaps he'll simply crawl out of the telegram."

"Huh?" Bella stood up. "Dumbledore is coming? I'll make a pot of tea."

"No need, thank you." Dumbledore's voice came from behind Nelson. He turned around to see a huge silver-white bird leap in through the window, beating its wings.

"Professor Dumbledore." Nelson and Tom stood up. The great bird had already folded its wings and perched on the back of an empty chair by the table, lowering its head to preen its feathers.

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Nicklaus, Mrs. Nicklaus." Dumbledore nodded to Jonas and Bella.

"Merry Christmas, Mr. Dumbledore." Jonas stood up and tried to offer his hand, then seemed to remember that there was a bird in front of him and hurriedly withdrew it. "Sorry, I had no idea Nal and Tom's teacher was a... um..."

"Phoenix." The silver-white bird spoke slowly. Glowing feathers constantly drifted from its body, then floated upward and became wisps of white light that dissipated into the air. "To be honest, I am actually a person."

The man and bird suddenly burst into laughter under the puzzled gazes of everyone else, as though they had just told a very funny joke.

"This is the Patronus Charm, an advanced application of emotional magic." Dumbledore's Phoenix Patronus spoke slowly. "If you are interested, I can teach it to you in your third year."

"Thank you, Professor."

"All right, time is limited, Nelson." The Phoenix turned to him and spat a nut from its slender beak. "Take this to that child."

"Okay, I'll go this morning." Nelson nodded, picked up the nut, and carefully put it into his pocket.

"Thank you for your trouble." The Phoenix turned to Jonas and Bella again. "I'm sorry to borrow your precious nephew for my assistance even on Christmas, but this concerns a poor girl..."

"I have no time left. When I am free, I will definitely visit in person." The Phoenix flapped its wings and rose from the chair back, hovering in the dining room air. "Mr. Nicklaus, I think we would get along well."

"Of course, Mr. Dumbledore." Jonas extended his hand and shook the Phoenix's outstretched claw.

Dumbledore's Patronus shone more brightly. It turned its head toward Tom and Nelson, seemingly looking at something, then suddenly burst apart, becoming specks of light that scattered through the air before going out one by one.

"Eat up, boys!" Jonas handed them a plate of sausages. "Once you've had your fill, be on your way. There's still a poor girl waiting for you to save her."