Harry's Christmas Present

Christmas was approaching.

One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke from its dreams to find several feet of snow blanketing the grounds and the lake frozen solid.

Damon read the newspaper as he ate breakfast, feeling quite content.

Ron, Harry, Neville, Seamus, and Hermione formed a loose semicircle around him, chattering away as they placed him at the center.

"Ron, did you know? Your two twin brothers were punished yesterday. They actually enchanted several snowballs to chase Professor Quirrell around and smash into the back of his turban."

"Those two idiots. What were they even thinking?"

Ron shook his head solemnly, feeling sorry for his prank-loving brothers—lately, he seemed to be imitating Damon, always speaking in an affectedly mature tone.

Hermione flipped through Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, trying to find information related to Nicolas Flamel, but unfortunately, she still found nothing.

"Damon," Harry said, "you're not going home for Christmas, are you?"

"No. I plan to stay at school and practise Charms."

Damon speared a piece of sausage and put it into his mouth, suddenly finding it rather greasy—after more than three months of Western breakfasts, he wanted a change of taste now and then. At that moment, he rather wanted a bowl of beef noodles.

As it happened, Christmas was coming. He planned to prepare gifts for all the House-elves and build a good relationship with them. Surely then, he would have some beef noodles to eat.

Even if Damon did not do this, the House-elves would probably carry out any request he made, but he preferred relationships built on reciprocation.

As Harry ate breakfast, he glanced at Damon from the corner of his eye, feeling indecisive—he wanted to practise Charms with Damon over the Christmas holiday, but Ron and his two brothers were staying behind as well, and they had already promised to show him a good time.

Should he use this holiday to experience what it was like to study Charms with Damon and see whether he could stick with it, or should he choose to have fun instead?

"Harry, why do you look so down?" Ron threw an arm around him. "I can hardly wait. You and I will team up, and we'll definitely beat Fred and George until they're begging for mercy."

"O-okay."

Harry's smile was rather forced.

Damon noticed, but said nothing.

Harry's talent was undoubtedly exceptional, but it had to be said that he had wasted too much time during his years at Hogwarts, leaving him a mere chess piece until the very end, pushed by Dumbledore toward his predetermined fate.

Still, the poor lad had already had a hard enough life. Without this carefree school life, how would he find comfort amid the hardships to come?

Damon could more or less understand Dumbledore's feelings now.

But since he was here, many unpleasant things would not happen again in the future—so whether Harry pulled himself together or not did not really matter.

"Don't just think about playing!" Hermione shot Ron a glare. "While I'm away, you still need to keep looking for information about that person. If you find anything, send an Owl to tell me."

"Of course we will," Ron muttered.

Harry watched Hermione and Ron bicker, smiling faintly as a sense of peace settled over him.

On Christmas Eve, inside the Room of Requirement.

Damon panted heavily as he silently looked at the scene he had created—the training dummy, protected by the Triple Armor Charm, had somehow been pierced through. A huge ring-shaped wound of thorns had appeared in its chest, as though it had suffered some kind of sharp double piercing.

"This move really consumes an enormous amount of magic. My control still isn't good enough. Rather than casting through willpower and control, it is more like an effect forcibly produced by crudely piling up magical power."

Damon shook his head, somewhat dissatisfied with his performance.

The destructive power of this self-created Charm was sufficient, but it was nowhere near its limit. Moreover, he could increase the number later.

That night, Damon still did not return to his dormitory, instead sleeping directly in the Room of Requirement.

By then, his roommates were no longer surprised by it.

Though they did not understand why Damon worked himself so hard.

The next morning, Harry was awakened by Ron's shout.

"Damon got so many presents!"

Harry rubbed his bleary eyes and instinctively looked toward the foot of his bed—he had thought he would receive no presents, but there was unexpectedly a small pile of parcels there. One long rectangular gift box wrapped with red satin ribbon looked frighteningly expensive.

"Merry Christmas."

The two exchanged greetings and began opening their presents.

Harry received a handmade flute from Hagrid. When blown, it sounded somewhat like an Owl's call.

Then there were the gifts from Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. They had given Harry only a fifty-pence coin; it was hard to say whether it was more a gift or a mockery.

Ron, however, was very interested in Muggle money, so Harry gave it to him directly.

What made Harry happy was that Ron's mother had actually sent him a gift: a thick, hand-knitted bright green sweater, along with a large box of homemade fudge.

Hermione had sent him a large box of Chocolate Frogs.

Finally, two parcels remained: one wrapped in paper, and the other an ornate acrylic box.

Harry decided to open the paper-wrapped one first, saving the one that looked best for last.

He tore open the paper wrapping, and something silver-grey, like liquid, slid down to the floor with a soft rustle, gathering into a gleaming heap. A note fell out from within it—your father left this with me before he died. It should now be returned to you. Use it well.

I sincerely wish you a merry Christmas.

"It's an Invisibility Cloak!" Ron gasped.

"If I could have something like this, I wouldn't need anything else," he said. "Anything else—what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

Harry felt that there was something strange about this, but before he could think further, the dormitory door was suddenly flung open, and Fred and George Weasley burst in.

Harry quickly hid the Invisibility Cloak—he did not want anyone else to know about it yet.

"Merry Christmas!"

"Oh! You're opening presents? Blimey, that ribbon looks incredibly expensive. Would you mind opening it right now so we can have a look?"

They looked at Harry's last parcel.

"Of course."

Harry nodded and opened the rectangular gift box wrapped in red satin ribbon.

To his surprise, there was another layer of protection inside. As Harry tore open the paper packaging, a pleasant scent of perfume reached his nose, and a note fell out.

Merry Christmas, Harry. I hope you like the present I sent you—Damon White

"It's a present from Damon!"

Harry had not expected Damon to give him a gift. After all, neither he nor Ron had thought to exchange presents—Ron had no money, so they had tacitly agreed not to exchange any.

"Aha, what sort of taste does the Duelling Prince have when choosing presents? Hurry up and open it so we can see."

Harry nodded and opened the gift box with great anticipation.

Before he could say anything, the three Weasley brothers had already screamed!

"Merlin's beard! Is this real?"