A guide to social graces for the Chosen One

After returning from the Silver-White Forest, Harry's life settled back into its familiar rhythm.

Classes, practising charms, writing essays, and occasionally sitting in the Secret Garden with Ron and the others.

Pip was delighted by this.

Whenever the house-elf heard them coming, it would run out wearing that absurdly oversized Christmas hat, afraid that if it was a moment too late, its new friends would leave.

It had also cleared out several rows of old wooden shelves in the garden room.

Four people, one row each, with their names clearly labelled.

With that key, even Harry's schoolbag was much lighter when he went out now.

He could send his textbooks into the garden for Pip to look after and retrieve them when needed. It was very convenient.

Along the way, he also received the house-elf's enthusiastic greetings.

Harry was quite pleased with this. The magical world really did have quite a few things worth looking forward to.

Meanwhile, the Christmas atmosphere at Hogwarts gradually grew stronger.

Fir trees were brought into the Great Hall, and holly was hung in the corridors.

Lately, Ron had been wondering aloud even during meals just how many kinds of pie there would be at the Christmas feast.

While organising his charms notes, Harry suddenly remembered something else.

Wasn't it time to prepare some Christmas presents?

Professor Flitwick had been guiding him in charms, and Professor McGonagall had looked after him very well, too.

There was also Madam Hooch. Although her expression always soured whenever that match came up, her concern was genuine.

He had troubled the professors plenty in his everyday life. Surely he ought to make some gesture over the holidays.

Harry took a sheet of parchment and began making a list.

Hagrid: an extra-large temperature-maintaining teapot, along with a packet of good tea.

Professor Flitwick: a magical bookmark he would make himself.

Professor McGonagall: a quill.

Madam Hooch: flying equipment maintenance supplies.

As for Dumbledore... Harry thought for a moment and added his name, too.

He was the headmaster, after all.

The warning he had previously asked Professor Flitwick to pass along had most likely reached his ears by now. There would be plenty more matters that he would have to rely on the professors to handle.

Of course, he wasn't expecting the headmaster to pack Quirrell off immediately just because he gave him a box of sweets.

Observing the courtesies was enough.

Last came Snape.

Harry's quill paused, but he still added the name with care.

Although this professor spoke as though his words were smeared with poison, he still had to try to win him over.

After all, having transmigrated here, he couldn't possibly go without even trying to raise this Potions Professor's favourability.

He would give him a brass page clip: practical and unobtrusive. Of course, there was one most important reason.

It was cheap.

Harry looked over the list and nodded in satisfaction.

"Harry, what are you writing?"

Ron had come over at some point.

"Christmas presents."

"For whom?"

"The professors."

Ron glanced down. Finally, his gaze stopped on Snape's name.

"Harry, you're getting one for him, too?"

"He has taught us Potions for a whole term." Harry looked up. "Is there a problem with expressing my thanks?"

"No."

Ron fell silent for a moment, then suddenly grew serious.

"I just think you'd be very suited to working at the Ministry of Magic someday."

"Thank you. It seems you've already glimpsed my bright career prospects."

"I wasn't complimenting you!"

"That's all right. I'll take it as a compliment."

Preparing the presents turned out to be less troublesome than he had imagined.

Apart from the bookmark, which he needed to make himself, everything else could be found in mail-order catalogues.

Harry didn't choose anything particularly expensive.

The professors weren't short of money. Giving something too expensive might instead make them wonder whether this student wanted to ask them for something.

As for the bookmark, he really did put some effort into it.

When Professor Flitwick received his gift, he initially thanked Harry with a smile.

But when his fingertips touched the bookmark and a soft light shone from it, his attention immediately shifted to it.

"Oh, wait."

The professor placed it on a page, examined it carefully, then tried lifting his hand. The light gradually dimmed; when he touched it again, it lit up once more.

"Mr Potter, did you make this yourself?"

"Yes, Professor. I tried adjusting Lumos a little, though the first few attempts weren't very successful."

Flitwick had already straightened his glasses and leaned closer.

"Beautiful control! How did you contain the magic here?"

Harry explained his attempts. The professor nodded repeatedly as he listened, and at one point even clapped his hands in delight.

"Yes, that's exactly the approach! You've already learned how to turn the charms you've studied into something you need."

With that, he looked down at the bookmark again. There was no need to ask how much he liked it.

Harry had been a little worried that his workmanship wasn't fine enough. Now it seemed he could put that worry away entirely.

Good.

This present had hit the mark.

With Professor McGonagall, things weren't quite so simple. When she saw the box, she first looked at Harry.

"Mr Potter, I don't believe the professors have asked students to prepare Christmas presents."

"I know, Professor." Harry offered her the box, his manner utterly sincere. "It's just that you've always looked after me, and I wanted to thank you."

Professor McGonagall had been about to say something else, but after hearing that, she accepted the box in the end.

"Thank you for the thought, Mr Potter."

Harry had only just begun to smile when he heard her continue:

"However, you mustn't neglect your Transfiguration practice over the holidays."

"..."

He had known it. The professors' concern for his studies never took a holiday.

"Of course, Professor. I'll finish it on time."

Only then did McGonagall nod in satisfaction.

After Harry left, she opened the box, picked up the quill to examine it, then placed it in the most conveniently positioned quill holder.

Madam Hooch was much more direct.

"Broomstick care wax?"

Once she read the words on the bottle, a smile appeared on her face.

"Good, Potter. It seems you've learned how to look after your flying equipment."

"I also bought a bottle of tail-twig conditioning oil."

"Very good."

Madam Hooch nodded and gave him another look.

"Then please remember to look after yourself during your next match, too."

"Especially those manoeuvres that make everyone think you're trying to fall to your death." Madam Hooch stared at him. "I don't want to see that a second time."

Harry stopped smiling and nodded seriously.

"I'll be careful, Professor."

"I hope so."

Only then did she accept the gift.

Headmaster Dumbledore's present was a box of Sherbet Lemons.

When the old man saw the box, his blue eyes visibly brightened a little.

"Oh, Sherbet Lemons." He opened the box and looked at Harry with a beaming smile. "It seems you know my tastes very well."

"I happen to know a little, Headmaster," Harry answered quite naturally.

He couldn't very well tell him that he even had some recollection of what sweets this old man might use as passwords in the future, could he?

"Then does this present come with any special requests?"

"No, Professor," Harry answered with complete sincerity.

"What a shame."

Dumbledore popped a sweet into his mouth and shook his head with considerable regret.

"I had been planning to take this opportunity to offer you a guarantee for next term's marks. It seems you're an upright child, Potter."

Harry: "..."

Actually... he could be a little less upright.

Nevertheless, Harry still answered with a beaming smile, "That's all thanks to your excellent guidance, Headmaster."

Dumbledore blinked.

"Oh? It seems I've received not only a gift, but also an excellent result of my teaching."

Harry smiled without speaking.

Before he left, however, Dumbledore still asked about his charms practice.

Harry answered earnestly.

After listening, the old man nodded gently.

"Flitwick has spoken to me about you, Harry. Including the things you told him earlier."

Harry looked up. Dumbledore's expression remained gentle.

"Thank you for the warning. Enjoy your holidays. The professors will keep an eye on things."

"All right, Headmaster."

Harry asked no further questions. Since the warning had been delivered, he would wait and see what arrangements the professors made.

Finally, Harry arrived at the Potions Office.

He glanced at the little box in his hand and knocked on the door.

"Come in."

Snape was sorting potion ingredients. When he saw that his visitor was Harry, his brow immediately furrowed.

"Potter."

Whenever that name came out of his mouth, it always made one feel that a question ought to follow.

Fortunately, none came this time.

"You had better have a reason."

"I do, Professor." Harry took out the little box and said with a smile, "I've come to give you a Christmas present."

Snape's hands stopped moving. He looked at the box, then at Harry.

"A Christmas present?"

His tone made it sound as though Harry had produced a potion mixed to the wrong colour.

"If you think some cheap little trinket will make me change my assessment of your classroom performance..."

Here it came.

Harry had known that hearing a "Merry Christmas" from this professor first would probably not be so easy.

"I know it won't, Professor."

He placed the box on an empty spot on the desk, then took out a greeting card.

"I simply wanted to thank you for teaching me this term."

"Then remembering those lessons would be more meaningful than giving presents."

"I have remembered them."

Harry answered very earnestly.

"For instance, when preparing ingredients, you can't just check whether you've cut them to the same length. Their thickness and degree of dryness will also affect the reactions that follow."

Snape watched him without replying.

"There were things I originally thought I'd already done correctly. Only when you pointed them out did I realise I could do better." Harry smiled. "I've written all of that in my notes. So, before the holidays, I wanted to come and express my thanks."

The office fell quiet.

Snape was still frowning, but the sarcastic remark that seemed already on the tip of his tongue went unspoken in the end.

Harry didn't say anything further either.

It was enough to make his thanks clear. He couldn't very well stand here insisting on waiting for Professor Snape to praise him for being thoughtful, could he?

He wasn't that confident yet.

"Then, Merry Christmas again, Professor. I'll be going now."

Harry politely said goodbye and turned toward the door.

"Potter."

He stopped.

"Professor?"

Snape looked at him, his voice as cold as ever.

"Since you remember, don't make me remind you a second time about the same thing next term."

Harry couldn't help the corners of his mouth turning up. "I'll do my best, Professor."

With that, he left the office.

The door closed again, and Snape's gaze returned to the little box on his desk.

After a while, he opened it after all.

A brass page clip lay quietly inside. The workmanship was fairly fine, its edges polished smooth, without any superfluous decorations.

The handwriting on the card beside it was neat.

"Thank you for the knowledge of Potions you taught us this term."

"Especially those details the textbooks don't particularly emphasize."

"Merry Christmas, Professor Snape."

"-Harry Potter."

Snape looked at it for a moment, then gave a cold snort.

"Utterly baffling."

He put the card back in the box, intending to put both away in a drawer.

But as his gaze swept over the Potions book beside him, which always closed on its own, his hand paused.

In the end, the box went into the drawer, while the page clip stayed out.

Snape opened the book, found the place he had been reading, and set the brass clip over the curling page.

"At least it's of some use."

"How did it go?"

Harry had barely returned to the common room when Ron came over.

"I delivered them all."

"All of them?"

"All of them."

Ron was silent for quite a while. Then he solemnly patted Harry on the shoulder. "Now I believe you're definitely going to be someone important someday."

"..."

That assessment sounded rather impressive, but Harry kept feeling that something about it was off.

Then Ron suddenly remembered something. "Oh, right. Should we get Malfoy a Christmas present?"

"Of course we should," Harry blurted out.

Ron nodded thoughtfully, rubbed his chin for a while, and suddenly his eyes lit up.

"Then I'll give her a potato!"

Harry froze for a moment, then couldn't help laughing aloud.

"Is that a declaration of war?"

"What declaration of war?" Ron puffed out his chest, utterly convinced he was in the right. "If I give her a present, she ought to thank me!"

Harry glanced at him, truly at a loss for what to say.

"Oh, right. What are you planning to give Malfoy?"

Harry's movements suddenly paused, and he took out the list again.

He had delivered all the professors' gifts except Hagrid's. He also had some plans for his friends' gifts.

It wasn't hard to think of what Ron liked or what Hermione needed.

But Draco...

She had never lacked expensive things.

It wasn't as though he couldn't give her something ordinary, either.

It was just that whenever he thought of something, Harry couldn't help wondering what expression she would have when she received it.

Would she be happy? Or would she snort first and ask him why he had picked that particular thing?

As he kept thinking, the few choices that had seemed fairly clear began to feel unsuitable.

Watching Harry stare into space, Ron's eyes gradually widened.

"You haven't decided yet?" He looked at Harry in some confusion. "Harry, it's just an ordinary Christmas present."

Harry glanced at him and couldn't help letting out a soft sigh.

"I don't know anymore, either."

What could I give her that would make her happy?

Bonus update! Thank you all so much for your support!

One more chapter to come~