Beginning

Not long after Ron left, Damon dragged his slightly weary body back to the dormitory and saw Christmas presents piled across almost the entire bed.

"Has everyone gone to the Christmas feast? Looks like I should hurry up."

With a calm smile on his face, he casually slumped down by the bed and began opening the gifts.

Professor McGonagall had given him a notebook on Magical Theory, with a card attached: May every day you spend at Hogwarts be fulfilling and meaningful. Merry Christmas.

Damon examined it and discovered that the notebook could automatically organize and categorize notes, making it quite helpful for note-taking.

"Very much Professor McGonagall's style."

He chuckled and moved on to the next present.

Professor Flitwick had given him a set of wizard chess, with a note: While maintaining your excellence, do not forget to relax from time to time. Merry Christmas, The Duelling Prince. And, by the way, I do not believe anyone could be more deserving of that title than you.

The smile at the corner of his lips deepened as he carefully put away the entire chess set.

Ron's mother, Molly Weasley, had sent him a beige hand-knitted sweater with a large yellow "D" on it. Damon changed into it on the spot.

Hermione had given him a hardcover copy of "Whimsical Ideas in Magical Theory," its cover adorned with exquisite silver embossing.

There were also a great many gifts from first-year and even older girls—simple sweets and snacks, all accompanied by cards. Whether subtle or direct, every one of them expressed a desire to get to know Damon or become friends with him.

It had to be said that girls really were much more thoughtful in this regard than boys. Among the first-year boys, not a single one had prepared a gift for Damon—though he truly did not care.

Damon read through every card, selected one to reply to, and had Chachabarton deliver some sweets as a return gift.

The owner of that card was Susan Bones, a first-year witch in the same year as him. Her family was highly respectable, and several of her relatives and elders had died at the hands of the Death Eaters. It would not have been an exaggeration to call them a family of martyrs.

Her other identity was that she was the niece of Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

She was a respectable woman, known for her fairness and honesty. She had once spoken up for Harry in court, and would ultimately die at Voldemort's hands.

In the middle and later stages of the Harry Potter story, the Ministry of Magic, as the wizarding world's governmental body, committed many intolerably foolish acts. Damon had no intention of indulging them.

Though he was not particularly obsessed with power, if one gave up one's own power, someone else would naturally take it over.

When the time was right, he would consider joining the Ministry of Magic under another identity and strive to bring this organ of power under his control.

As for everyone else's cards, he ignored them.

To Damon, aside from the very few people he liked and considered worth cherishing, everyone else was no different from strangers and not worth any effort.

Besides, he was in a race against time now and had no leisure to make friends.

By the time Damon reached the Great Hall for the Christmas feast, Harry and the others were already eating flaming Christmas pudding.

The Great Hall looked beautiful and magnificent. Garlands of holly and mistletoe hung from the walls, while no fewer than twelve towering Christmas trees stood throughout the room. Some were draped with glittering little icicles, while hundreds of candles flickered on others.

At the sight of Damon, Professor McGonagall and Flitwick both looked at him kindly. Professor Flitwick even gave him a discreet wave.

As for Snape—Damon had sent him a boxed set of shampoo and body wash, and Snape was currently staring at him with an icy, murderous glare.

Incidentally, Damon had not given Dumbledore a present.

"Damon—you're here. Thank you for your gift. I really liked it."

Harry greeted Damon happily, then turned toward Ron in puzzlement. Normally, Ron would have shouted a greeting the moment he saw Damon. Why was he so quiet now?

Ron walked up to Damon, opened his mouth, then hesitated awkwardly—he did not know how to express the gratitude in his heart.

If he was too solemn, it would seem strange.

If he was too casual, it would not seem sincere enough.

Fortunately, Damon solved his problem in the very next moment.

Damon threw an arm around Ron's shoulders and said happily:

"Looks like my taste isn't bad. That outfit looks really good on you."

"Y-Yeah. Thanks, Damon. I really don't know how to express—"

"No need to be polite. Didn't I get a sweater from your mum too? I really like it."

"What do you think? Does it fit?"

Damon patted Ron's shoulder and spread his arms to show off the beige sweater he was wearing.

It had to be said that even the most ordinary clothes seemed to gain some kind of magic when worn by him, becoming refined and fitting.

"Very good," Ron nodded sincerely.

Seeing how satisfied Damon looked, Ron suddenly felt that his mother's gift was not so embarrassing after all.

His tense body quietly relaxed, and he showed a relieved smile.

Damon put an arm around him and sat down at the table. "I'm a little hungry. Is there only dessert left now?"

The moment he finished speaking, the dessert on his plate vanished, replaced by the steak he ate most often.

"Oh, how considerate."

It seemed that the House-elves had received the presents he had sent them.

Damon smiled and began eating heartily. The previous topic was brushed aside just like that—as Ron had hoped, neither serious nor perfunctory.

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance—should they ask Damon to join them in a snowball fight later?

—Forget it. I think Damon would rather go practice Charms.

Harry had not expected Ron to think that way, and he was somewhat surprised.

In the past, Ron would definitely have been the first to invite Damon to join them—though Damon rejected him eight times out of ten, Ron had never given up.

What was going on now?

Sure enough.

When lunch ended, Damon hurried off again.

Harry and Ron both knew that if today had not been the Christmas feast, it would have been impossible for them to run into Damon at noon.

Before leaving, Harry seemed to see Damon heading not upward, but downward.

Strange. What was below the first floor?

Because Snape's office and the Slytherin Common Room were underground, neither Harry nor Ron had ever explored beneath the first floor. They only knew that the Hufflepuff Common Room was down there.

"Harry, come on. Let's kill Fred and the others!"

"Right!"

Harry and the Weasley brothers had a snowball fight on the grounds, playing wildly all afternoon. Then, freezing unbearably in their soaking wet clothes, they returned to the fireplace in the Gryffindor Common Room, panting heavily, and played wizard chess again.

Harry tried out his new chess pieces, only to lose miserably to Ron.

Harry grumbled inwardly that if Percy had not been standing nearby constantly giving idiotic advice, he would not have lost so badly.

"Got it!"

"Give it back!"

The Weasley Twins snatched Percy's prefect badge, and Percy began chasing them around Gryffindor Tower.

This was the happiest Christmas Harry had ever had.

Yet throughout the day, one matter had lingered in his mind. Only after he got into bed did he have time to think about it—the Invisibility Cloak, and the person who had given it to him.

He thought that perhaps he ought to try it.