You're Not Going Home?

"As you wish, Professor."

Lin Yuan said no more. He merely nodded politely, then turned his attention back to the bookshelves, searching for his next subject of study.

He knew that if he said anything more, he would only touch a nerve in His Highness the "Prince"—his sensitive, fragile pride.

Knowing when to stop was the wisest choice.

Snape watched Lin Yuan's calm profile, watched those eyes that seemed able to see through everything, and once again felt an indescribable chill rise in his heart.

This boy... just how much did he know?

Snape felt like a naked man standing before a spotless mirror, all his disguises and secrets laid bare.

The sensation filled him with a fear unlike anything he had ever known.

He did not linger. His black robes swirled as he turned and, like a shadow whose disguise had been pierced, swiftly vanished into the darkness of the Forbidden Section.

Time slipped by quietly, like clouds drifting over Hogwarts.

The bustle of Halloween had long since faded. The first snow fell like a fairy's feathers, gently covering the Forbidden Forest and the distant mountains.

Warm fires burned in the castle's hearths, and the students had changed into thick winter robes.

Christmas was drawing closer with every passing day.

For Harry, Ron, and Hermione, this period was filled with tense investigations and endless confusion.

They knew a great secret lay behind the Trapdoor on the fourth floor.

They also knew that Snape seemed to be eyeing that secret hungrily.

But they were stuck.

They had no idea what the enormous, furry creature was, let alone what it was guarding.

After the Quidditch Match turmoil, Hogwarts entered the depths of winter.

Snow blanketed the castle roofs and the distant Forbidden Forest, turning the whole world into a fairytale kingdom dressed in silver.

With Christmas approaching, a warm festive spirit began to fill the castle.

Twelve towering Christmas trees stood in the Great Hall, adorned with sparkling magical icicles and hundreds upon hundreds of candles.

The suits of armor in the corridors had been enchanted to sing off-key Christmas carols by themselves.

Even Peeves, unusually, refrained from causing trouble. He only occasionally hid beneath the mistletoe, waiting to jump out and startle any couples who passed by.

For Harry, this was the first time in his life he had looked forward to Christmas so much. The Dursleys had never bothered to celebrate it properly with him, and this year he would be staying at Hogwarts for the first time, with his friends.

Ron and his brothers would be staying at school too, since Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were going to Romania to visit their other son, Charlie.

Hermione was going home to spend time with her parents. Before leaving, though, she spent most of her time in the library, trying to find every book she could on "powerful Counter-Curses" and "defense against Dark Magic" to prepare for their long war against Snape.

The three friends grew closer in the face of their common "enemy," and were almost inseparable.

In stark contrast to their lively friendship was Lin Yuan's usual solitude.

He seemed utterly uninterested in the holiday festivities. While other students played Wizard's Chess or traded Chocolate Frog Cards in the common room, he either stayed by himself in the dormitory or appeared in a corner of the library.

One snowy afternoon, Harry found him in the Clock Tower courtyard.

Lin Yuan stood in the middle of the courtyard without a cloak or any Warming Charm.

Snowflakes fell on his black hair and shoulders, quickly melting into wisps of barely visible steam.

His eyes were closed, as though he were using every inch of his skin to feel the world breathing. He seemed to merge with the bitter winter scene, radiating an absolute stillness that kept others at a distance.

Harry hesitated for a long time, but finally walked over.

"Aren't you cold?" he asked, coming out with a rather silly question.

Lin Yuan slowly opened his eyes. The falling snow was reflected in them, and they were as calm as a frigid pool.

"Cold is a sensory illusion," he replied, not answering the question. "When your mind can rise above your body, 'cold' and 'hot' are merely information you can choose to ignore."

Harry didn't understand a word of it, but he still summoned the courage to ask what had been on his mind.

"Lin Yuan, why are you always by yourself?"

Lin Yuan's gaze shifted from Harry's face to the snow-covered Forbidden Forest in the distance.

"Once you've seen an entire forest," he said softly, "you stop becoming too attached to a single tree."

His voice was quiet, yet his words fell into Harry's heart like a stone into a still lake, sending ripples across the surface.

Harry only half understood. He felt Lin Yuan was talking about more than trees and forests—something much vaster and more distant.

"The holidays are almost here," Harry said, changing the subject. "Are you going home?"

"Home?" Lin Yuan seemed to turn the word over in his mind. For the first time, the corner of his mouth lifted in an expression without the slightest trace of mockery. His smile was distant, and a little forlorn. "I don't have a home. Or rather, for people like us, wherever the heart finds peace is our place of practice."

With that, he said no more. He closed his eyes again, as though he had returned to his own world, a place no one else could enter.

Harry left him alone.

Looking at Lin Yuan's solitary, proud figure, Harry suddenly felt that perhaps the loneliest person in the world wasn't himself, a boy who had grown up without parents, but the young man before him, who seemed not to belong to this world.

Soon, the Christmas holidays arrived.

The Hogwarts Express carried most of the students away, and the castle suddenly felt spacious and quiet.

The calm heralded the approach of an unusual Christmas.

Before long, Harry would receive a Christmas present from the past—one that would change his life.

Most of the students left the castle like birds returning to their nests, taking the Hogwarts Express back to their warm homes.

The corridors, usually bustling with noise, became empty and silent. Only the occasional professor on patrol and the ghosts drifting about brought a little life to the ancient building.

The Gryffindor Common Room felt especially deserted too.

The fire in the hearth burned brightly, crackling as it filled the round room with springlike warmth.

And yet, only a handful of people remained in the vast space.

The five Weasley brothers—from Percy, the Prefect, to the mischievous twins and little Ron—had stayed at school because their parents were going to Romania to visit Charlie, who was studying dragons.

Harry Potter had chosen to stay as well.

For the first time in his life, he had looked forward to a holiday so much.

At the Dursleys' home, Christmas had meant little more to him than making extra room for Dudley's mountain of presents and receiving a pair of old socks from his uncle that would never fit.

But here, at Hogwarts, he felt what it was like to have a "home" for the first time.

On Christmas morning, the first ray of sunlight spilled through the tower windows and fell across the scarlet carpet. Harry woke to Ron's excited shouts.

"Wake up! Harry! Look! There are presents!"

Harry put on his glasses and sleepily looked toward the foot of his bed.

A small pile of differently wrapped presents had appeared there.

He froze. A warm, unfamiliar feeling he had never experienced before surged through him.

He had received a large box of sweets from Hermione, a wooden whistle hand-carved by Hagrid that sounded like an owl when blown, and a green sweater knitted by Mrs. Weasley herself, embroidered with a Golden Snitch.

But when he unwrapped the last present, the plainest-looking one, wrapped in ordinary brown paper, he was utterly stunned.

A silver-gray cloak, smooth and soft as flowing liquid, slipped out of the wrapping and drifted lightly onto his bed.

"What's this?" Ron leaned over and reached out curiously. His hand seemed to pass through the air and touch the bed sheet beneath the cloak.

"My God..." Ron's eyes widened like saucers. "This... this is an Invisibility Cloak!"

There was also an unsigned note in the package. Its elegant, unfamiliar handwriting read:

"Your father left it with me before he died. Now it's time to return it to its rightful owner. Use it well. Merry Christmas."

Harry's heart began to pound violently.

He draped the cold, silky cloak over himself and looked down. His body had disappeared.

Ron let out a muffled gasp.

This was... a keepsake from Harry's father.

A genuine Invisibility Cloak, straight out of legend.

In that moment, Harry felt a faint but real connection form between him and the father he had never met.