The first week of December drew to a close with an owl's breathless hoot. The Christmas atmosphere grew stronger, and the snow had already passed four feet in depth. All over Hogwarts, impressions large and small marked where students had landed in the snow.
Thanks to the reputation Madam Pomfrey's bitter Pepperup Potion had earned last time, the students were much more sensible now. To avoid looking distressed when faced with Christmas dinner, they could now remember to choose no whenever the thought of burying their heads in the snow occurred to them.
The widespread tendency of students to lose focus in class had recently become a topic of discussion among the professors. Professor Sprout had even dug out a "Classroom Daydreaming Duration Leaderboard" and happily announced that this year's record had been broken again-eight and a half minutes, far ahead of the seven-minute runner-up.
The record-breaker was a first-year student from Hufflepuff House. His imagination was so rich that, during Potions Class in the stuffy classroom, he had managed to suddenly think of his mother's special white pudding and full turkey dinner, then drool into his cauldron, causing a small explosion.
Snape had mercifully refrained from deducting points. Instead, he had made the student grind three times the original amount of spine powder over the course of one lesson-because the student's answer had been, "Professor, it's all this powder's fault! It reminded me of the spices sprinkled over white pudding!"
In the staffroom, Brian, the second to arrive, looked at the dozen or so miniature kilts arranged on white plates and gained a new appreciation for the Hogwarts house-elves' handiwork. It was a little strange, but the kilts smelled sweet. Dessert, perhaps?
Professor Burbage, who had arrived first, smilingly handed him a plate holding a kilt.
"Just in time.