Christmas

Time passed slowly, and Hogwarts gradually returned to peace.

The troll incident became a favorite topic of conversation among the students, while Ian Alvin Bones's name was quietly added to the ranks of the "Most Mysterious Professors."

He continued teaching, revising textbooks, and recording experiments as usual. Time slipped by amid his busy work and contemplation, and before he knew it, Christmas Eve had arrived.

To Ian, the holiday was not a celebration, but a node in the structure of order.

He had always firmly believed that the meaning of a holiday lay in resetting and restoring balance.

So, even though his research was unfinished, he would suspend all experiments for these few days and devote the time to socializing.

Over the past few months, while ensuring that the timeline progressed correctly, he had also completed interventions at several key points--

Harry's first victory in a Quidditch match, Quirrell's covert probing, and Snape's "rescue" operation.

Everything was proceeding in accordance with the original timeline.

Snape now had a new obsession--bringing Lily back to life.

Driven by that obsession, his determination to protect Harry had grown even stronger.

Ian knew that as long as this psychological structure remained intact, most of the variables in the future would be locked down.

He set down his quill and took out a list. It was a gift list.

"In this world, every relationship needs to be maintained," he muttered to himself.

He had prepared dozens of gifts:

For Dumbledore, he had made a box of candies himself--perfectly sweet, with a faint magical glow on the tongue.

He had originally planned to give him woolen socks, but after thinking it over, he decided that candy better represented the symbols of "peace" and "innocence."

For Professor Flitwick, he had prepared an alchemical ornament forged using a lost technique from Gringotts.

It was the Metal Resonance Method, long forgotten by the Goblins. By adjusting the frequency of magic, it gave objects the ability to "repair themselves."

When Flitwick opened the gift box, he might even hear that faint, familiar magical melody.

Professor McGonagall received a flying broomstick--one Ian had made himself.

The broom's magical flow lines surpassed those of every model on the market, and its speed was exceptionally stable.

In the letter, he wrote: "If you give this to the Gryffindor Quidditch team, I will make an even faster one for Ravenclaw."

He knew how McGonagall smiled--her lips pressed together slightly, her eyes smiling, yet never offering thanks.

As for the other professors, they all received gifts as well, though he had not put quite as much thought into them.

The essence of a gift was not the object itself, but the "social order" he deliberately maintained.

He had not neglected the family side of things, either.

For his cousin Susan, he sent an alchemy notebook he had written himself, recording the relationship between the flow of magic and natural elements.

The accompanying candies came from the same batch as Dumbledore's, though they were slightly less sweet.

As for his aunt Amelia, he had personally crafted a silver-white necklace.

Its surface was engraved with a runic array that kept the wearer's magic in a constant state of flow, making spells smoother and more powerful.

Its more concealed function was emergency protection--when the wearer encountered a fatal threat, the necklace would automatically activate Blink Transfer and carry her away from danger.

If the enemy continued the pursuit, the magic array would also activate the Life Delay Spell, preserving her vitality until help arrived.

He wrote only two sentences in the letter:

"May the strength be with you. Do not let fate decide your choices."

Even Helena received a gift.

It was a necklace of an extremely ancient design, in keeping with the style of nobles from the tenth century.

Outwardly, it was merely an elegant ornament, but in reality, it had two functions--

First, it could change along with Helena's form. Whether she was in a ghostly or physical state, it would blend in naturally without attracting attention;

Second, it allowed her to manifest a physical body at will, without needing to rely on Ian's spell.

When he placed the necklace around her neck, Helena's smile carried a trace of long-lost warmth.

That night, they spent together in the silent Astronomy Tower.

Candlelight swayed, snowflakes drifted outside the window, and she said softly, "This is the best gift I've ever received."

He did not answer. He merely brushed his fingers over her hair.

A few days later, on Christmas morning.

The Great Hall was decorated in dazzling splendor, and flames leaped in the fireplace.

The students' laughter echoed beneath the stone arches, while the air was rich with the scents of cinnamon and honey.

Ian did not appear at the center of the feast.

He preferred the tranquility in the distance--sitting by the window, watching snow fall over the courtyard and listening to the bells ringing far away.

He felt that balance--time, fate, and order were all moving along their proper tracks.

In the afternoon, he walked through the castle corridors with a faint smile on his lips.

Helena's company the previous night had put him in a good mood.

But that lighthearted feeling did not last long.

Suddenly, a faint disturbance in the air caught his attention.

It was not magic, but a gaze.

He stopped, clasped his hands behind his back, and shifted his eyes slightly.

Magical vision, heat detection, echo location--he activated all three senses at once.

Wind swept up from around the corner. With a light wave of his sleeve, a current of air surged forth.

Dust scattered, and a small figure was swept out by the storm.

"Professor Ian!"

Harry Potter fell to the ground, his expression flustered.

Ian looked at him and said calmly, "Wandering around alone late at night is not a good habit."

Harry stammered out an explanation. "Sorry, Professor. I thought... no one would notice."

"Well then, Mr. Potter, the place you're going... is it also somewhere 'no one will notice'?"

Ian's voice remained gentle, yet carried a force that made lying impossible.

After a moment of silence, Harry lowered his head.

"I just... wanted to look at that mirror one more time."

"The Mirror of Erised." Ian nodded. "Come on. I'll go with you."

The boy looked up in surprise, but saw understanding in those eyes.

They walked one after the other toward the abandoned classroom.

Ian pushed open the door, and the mirror reflected their figures--

Harry saw his parents smiling gently;

while in the mirror, Ian saw the starlight of countless worlds and the runes of order--the future he pursued.

He said softly, "Mr. Potter, the mirror does not show reality, but desire.

If a person becomes lost in it, they will lose their direction forward."

Harry looked up. "Then what do you see?"

Ian smiled. "The answer is too complicated, and too soon."

He turned and left, his footsteps steady, his figure swallowed by the light.

In the mirror, that retreating figure gradually blurred, leaving behind only a silver trail of light.

--That light seemed to cross through time.