Fireworks

They spent the entire afternoon in the lounge, chatting, playing games, and sharing their stories.

As evening approached and they were preparing to leave, Professor Weasley called Harry back.

"Mr. Potter, please wait a moment."

The other students left first, leaving Harry and the professor in the common room.

The firelight from the fireplace danced on Professor Weasley's face, making her expression appear exceptionally gentle.

"Merry Christmas, Harry," she said. "I hope you have a wonderful first Christmas at Hogwarts."

"It was very pleasant, Professor," Harry said sincerely. "Thank you for everything you've done for me—the scholarship, the protection from bullying, and the gifts."

Professor Weasley's expression became somewhat complicated.

"Regarding gifts, Harry —sometimes things aren't as simple as they seem. At Hogwarts, many acts of kindness go unseen, and much care is shown silently."

Harry looked at her, puzzled.

"What I mean is," the professor continued, "That when you receive help, it doesn't necessarily come from the most obvious person. The magical world is full of surprises, isn't it?"

She stood up and patted Harry on the shoulder. "Enjoy your holiday, Harry. You deserve a wonderful Christmas."

After leaving the common room, Harry kept thinking about Professor Weasley's words. When he returned to the Gryffindor Tower, Gareth was already there, excitedly planning Silent Night Eve.

"A carol party! I heard the ghosts will sing together, and there will be real Christmas pudding—the kind that breathes blue flames!"

Harry listened to his friend's endless chatter with a smile, but his mind was preoccupied with Professor Weasley's meaningful words and the ink gift wrapped in the same paper as Cassandra's.

The snow outside the window was falling heavily again. He lay in bed, Gareth's incessant chatter filling his ears, and gradually drifted off to sleep.

On the morning before Christmas, when Harry woke up, Gareth was still snoring in the bed next to his.

The snow stopped, and sunlight streamed into the room through the icy windows.

The students who stayed on campus enjoyed a more lavish breakfast than usual in the Great Hall —golden-baked Christmas puddings were laid out on the long table, steaming hot and exuding the aroma of Cinnamon and cloves.

Harry and Gareth sat with the other students who stayed on campus, sharing the gifts they had received.

Pabbie showed off a Magical Creatures notebook her sister had sent her, while Benjamin received a professional-grade Herbology kit from his uncle.

"And you, Harry?" Pabbie asked curiously, "Besides Professor Weasley's gift, did you receive anything else?"

Harry hesitated for a moment, but still took out the Quill that Cassandra had given him.

In the morning light, the dark wood of the pen barrel gleamed with a warm sheen, and the silver nib Winky brightly.

"Wow, this is beautiful!" Ellie exclaimed. "Is it an antique?"

"It looks like sandalwood," her Twins sister Ella said, leaning closer for a closer look. "The nib is mithril; that's not cheap."

Harry carefully put the pen away without offering any further explanation.

After breakfast, the students who stayed on campus followed tradition by helping the House Elf decorate the castle's common areas.

Harry and Gareth were assigned to the Great Hall to hang the last of the decorations on the Christmas tree.

"Listen to this," an older House Elf, Bobby, one of the Kitchen's supervisors, shrieked. "The gold ball should be hung on the east side, and the silver ball on the west. This is tradition, to balance the energies of the sun and moon."

Harry carefully followed the instructions, amazed that Hogwarts even had such meticulous magical details in its Christmas decorations.

As he hung the last silver star atop the tree, it suddenly lit up, radiating a soft silver light that illuminated the entire Great Hall.

"Very good!" Bobby nodded in satisfaction. "Now go and rest. Afternoon tea starts at three o'clock, and there will be a special Christmas cake!"

The afternoon was slow and peaceful. Harry continued copying the notes Cassandra had assigned him in the Common Room, while Gareth studied the newly received History of Quidditch Almanac.

Outside the window, the snow has started falling again.

At six o'clock in the afternoon, as Harry and Gareth were preparing to go to the Great Hall for dinner, the portrait of the Fat Lady suddenly spoke.

"Mr. Potter, someone is looking for you downstairs."

Harry went downstairs in confusion, and at the bottom of the spiral staircase, he saw an unexpected figure.

Cassandra stood there, wearing a heavy, dark green cloak trimmed with silver-grey fur, her long golden hair still speckled with unmelted snowflakes.

She looked travel-worn, but her posture remained proud and upright.

"Miss Malfoy?" Harry said in surprise, "I thought you were going to stay at the Malfoy Manor until New Year's."

"The plans have changed," Cassandra said curtly, but Harry noticed her tone was slightly softer than usual. "Father and brother received an urgent assignment from the Ministry of Magic and went to Berlin; Malfoy Manor is too quiet."

She shook the snowflakes off her cloak and tossed her beautiful long hair.

"I had my House Elf pack a box and leave it in the Entrance hall. Go get it; we'll meet by the Black Lake."

"Now? But----"

"Now," Cassandra's tone regained its usual firmness, "Don't keep me waiting too long, Potter."

She turned and walked toward the castle gate, her cloak drawing an elegant arc behind her.

Harry paused for a few seconds, then hurriedly ran towards the Entrance hall.

Sure enough, there was a heavy wooden box there, with the Malfoy family crest affixed to it.

Harry struggled to lift the box; it was heavier than it looked.

He followed in Cassandra's footsteps, walking closely toward the Black Lake.

Harry even had the audacity to notice that the distance between each of her footprints in the snow was almost exactly the same.

Black Lake was completely frozen over, and its entirety was not clearly visible in the dim light.

However, one can still vaguely see the snow-covered pine trees by the lake, their trunks still standing tall and straight.

Cassandra stood by the lake, quietly watching Harry.

"It's so heavy, what is this, Miss Malfoy?"

Harry put down the box, panting, his breath turning into white mist in the cold air.

Cassandra turned around, her grey eyes appearing exceptionally clear in the snow.

"It's fireworks," she said, her tone carrying a subtle emotion Harry had never heard before. "Someone from the Muggle Family like yours must have never seen real magical fireworks, right? How pathetic—thank goodness you met me—you can't expect me to do this kind of chores, can you?"

Her words were still harsh, but for some reason, they didn't sound so offensive today.

Perhaps it was the faint smile in her eyes, or perhaps it was the uniquely tolerant atmosphere of Christmas.

"Yes, Miss Malfoy." Harry obediently opened the box, then stood awkwardly to the side with his hands at his sides, unsure of what to do next.

"What are you standing there for?" Cassandra raised an eyebrow. "Come here, I'll teach you how to set off magic fireworks. These are special Christmas limited editions ordered from Zonko's Joke Shop, so don't break them."

Harry cautiously approached. Inside the box were rows of slender metal tubes, each decorated with delicate patterns and topped with a small fuse.

"Watch closely," Cassandra, picking up a wand and demonstrating gracefully, "Tap this spot gently with your wand—don't press too hard, or it will detonate prematurely. Then quickly retreat to a safe distance. Understand?"

Harry nodded and took a pipe.

It felt cold and heavy in my hand, with intricate Runes engraved on its metallic surface.

Following Cassandra's instructions, he lightly touched the fuse with the tip of his wand.

With a soft "hiss," the fuse sparked.

Harry quickly backed away, almost tripping and falling in the snow.

Cassandra gave a soft chuckle, but reached out to steady his arm.

"A clumsy little Troll," she remarked, but released her grip very gently.

The firework tube trembled, and then a silver beam shot into the sky, exploding in the heavy twilight and transforming into millions of twinkling stars.

The stars didn't disappear immediately; instead, they floated slowly in the air, arranging themselves in the shape of a Christmas tree.

"Wow----" Harry tilted his head back, his eyes wide open.

"Don't just stand there, there's more," Cassandra said, but her gaze also followed the light in the sky.

Together they lit the remaining fireworks, each one with its own unique characteristics.

Some blossomed into giant snowflake patterns, some transformed into flying Phoenix, and some burst forth with rainbow-like bands of light, casting magnificent reflections on the ice surface of the Black Lake.

Harry had never seen anything like it. At the Dursley family, Christmas meant Dudley's Dudley unwrapping of presents and the dull holiday programming on television.

Occasionally, when the neighbors set off ordinary fireworks, Uncle Vernon would complain that it was "a waste of money and a disturbance to the neighbors."

Like this, the entire sky was illuminated by magic, and the silent snowfield became a theater of fireworks—a luxury he could never have dreamed of.

"It's so beautiful!" Harry couldn't help but cheer, jumping up and down and reaching out his hands as if he wanted to touch the specks of light that were slowly drifting down in the air.

His actions were entirely instinctive; he forgot his restraint and the proper demeanor of a follower.

Do you like it?

Cassandra's voice made Harry freeze instantly.

Realizing his lapse in composure, the young man immediately stood at attention.

After a long pause, he turned his head away and said, "I'm sorry, Miss Malfoy, I—my uncle never allows me to do this—this—"

He couldn't find the right words, and his voice grew softer and softer.

But Cassandra did not reprimand him as expected.

"If you like, I can have my father order some more next year," she said calmly, the light still lingering on the last wisp of golden fireworks fading in the sky. "Hmph, what an ignorant Muggle."

This sounds sarcastic, but it lacks any real malice.

Harry even thought that maybe he was overthinking it, but there was a subtle, almost imperceptible tenderness in that voice.

Harry's eyes reddened as he looked down at the small dents his boots had made in the snow.

"Thank you, Miss Malfoy. Thank you so much."

Cassandra did not respond to the thanks; she simply stood there quietly, watching the stars begin to appear in the deep blue night sky.

The outline of the Forbidden Forest across the Black Lake had become completely blurred, while the castle lights shone warmly in the distance.

"It's time to go back," she finally said. "The Christmas dinner is about to start, and I don't want you to cry because you missed pudding, as if I've bullied you again."

Harry hummed in agreement and looked up.

Cassandra stared blankly at the fireworks reflected in Harry's eyes, remaining silent for a long time.

After a moment, she quickly looked away and bent down to pick up the cloak.

"Pack up the suitcase, Potter. Hurry up, I'm freezing."

They walked back to the castle in silence, Harry carrying the half-empty wooden chest, Cassandra half a step ahead of him.

The snow started falling again, and tiny snowflakes twirled and danced in the light shining through the castle windows.

As they approached the Entrance hall, Cassandra suddenly stopped without turning around. "Merry Christmas, Potter."

"Merry Christmas, Miss Malfoy," Harry replied softly.

She nodded, strode into the castle, and disappeared into the shadows of the spiral staircase.

The Christmas dinner at Hogwarts was the most magical night Harry had ever experienced.

Of course, his magical career wasn't actually that long.

The Great Hall ceiling was enchanted, with green and purple light bands dancing slowly in the starry sky.

It's the Arctic.

Gareth, holding a chicken leg in one hand, was cosplaying as a Berserker, sitting there exuding an aura of dominance.

Upon seeing Harry, he held up a chicken leg, gesturing for Harry to come over.

"Hey buddy," Gareth asked mysteriously, "Where were you just now? I think I heard fireworks outside?"

"Oh, Miss Malfoy asked me to help her set off fireworks," Harry replied truthfully.

"Huh?" Upon hearing this, Gareth immediately suppressed his appetite for the chicken leg.

He placed the two chicken legs on his plate, his eyes shining, and said, "What fireworks? What fireworks? Tell me in detail!"

Harry shrugged and carefully described the fireworks they had just set off to Gareth.

"Good heavens, Merlin's stinky socks, buddy!" Gareth exclaimed, using three exclamations in a row. "Those are the latest products from Zonko's Joke Shop! Good heavens! Miss Malfoy really knows how to spend money—"

As he spoke, Gareth looked Harry up and down.

"You silly boy, you really are lucky." He sighed. "Sigh... never mind, I was going to complain about why you didn't invite me, but considering it's Malfoy, I'll pass, lest she drag us both up in Charms and throw us into the sky—"

Harry thought about it; Cassandra shouldn't be that violent.

She might make a few sarcastic remarks, but she never actually did anything violent.

"I think I heard someone talking badly about me, Weasley."

A cold voice came from behind them. Gareth turned around, trembling, and sure enough, he saw Cassandra standing behind them, looking down at them.

"No, no," Gareth immediately replied with a smile. "How could I dare speak ill of you, Miss Malfoy— "

"You'd better be." Cassandra glanced at him, then at Harry, before turning around haughtily and sitting down next to Harry.