When Wilhelm walked into the Great Hall, it was almost empty. The long tables had been pushed to the sides, and a tall Christmas tree stood near the staff table, only half-decorated. The usual floating candles had been dimmed, replaced by soft golden lights that made the stone walls glow warmly.
Only a few students had stayed at Hogwarts for the holidays. They worked quietly in small groups, using magic to hang up garlands and ornaments. Wilhelm didn't talk to anyone as he joined a group near the doors, helping set up the second Christmas tree. No one seemed to mind. Most students had already gotten used to him—he was polite and helped when needed, but he didn't say much and mostly kept to himself.
He quickly got to work, using levitation spells to place ornaments and adjust floating candles. Nearby, two younger Hufflepuff girls were giggling as they made enchanted gingerbread men dance across the wall. Wilhelm glanced at them briefly. For a moment, memories surfaced—playing in the snow with his friends, drinking hot chocolate, laughing under the glowing winter dome back at the Arc. He looked away before the memory pulled him in too far.
A floating crystal decoration drifted out of place. Wilhelm raised his wand and said, "Stabilio." It snapped back into perfect position.
"Thanks," one of the Hufflepuff girls said with a small smile.
Wilhelm gave a short nod. "It was crooked."
"Still, thanks," she replied before going back to her decorations.
They worked quietly after that, and little by little, the Great Hall turned into a beautiful winter scene. Green garlands wrapped themselves along the walls, red bows floated into place and tied themselves neatly, and magical snowflakes hung in the air, twinkling like stars. From the kitchens, the smell of cloves and roasted chestnuts drifted in, making the place feel warm and cozy.
When everything was finished, the small group of students stood near the entrance, looking around proudly. Wilhelm stayed at the back, arms folded, quietly watching. The lights sparkled on the floor, and the ornaments shimmered in the firelight.
It really was beautiful. And even though he didn't feel like he fit in anymore, even though he came from another time, Wilhelm had to admit moments like this still had meaning. Even if they didn't last.
McGonagall passed by, giving them a nod of approval. "Excellent Work, Students."
As the others left for their common rooms, Wilhelm stayed behind for a moment. He walked slowly down the middle of the Great Hall, passing the trees and decorations, and stopped under the floating snowflakes.
He held out his gloved hand and caught one.
It melted right away, just like he thought it would.
"Temporary," he whispered. "But still... nice."
Wilhelm quitely left making his way back to his lab.
---
A few days later
Wilhelm sat alone at the Ravenclaw table in the morning, quietly eating his breakfast. His plate had a few slices of toast, some scrambled eggs, and a warm cup of black tea that gave off a faint, bitter scent. He chewed slowly, eyes focused on nothing in particular, his thoughts drifting as usual.
Across the Great Hall, the Gryffindor table was more lively. Harry and Ron were sitting close together, huddled over a game of wizarding chess. The pieces on the board were alive tiny enchanted statues that shouted, argued, and even shoved each other when moved. It was a noisy, chaotic match. Ron looked completely focused, his eyes narrowed in thought and a small smile tugging at his lips every time one of his pieces took out Harry's. Harry, on the other hand, looked frustrated, his shoulders slumped as he watched his last few pieces get crushed, one by one.
Wilhelm had barely paid them any attention. He preferred the quiet, and chess wasn't really his idea of fun, at least not the shouting, animated wizard version of it. He was just about to take another sip of tea when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps and the clatter of something wooden knocking against a bench.
He glanced up. Ron was walking straight toward him, carrying the chessboard under one arm, with Harry following behind, holding a battered rook in one hand like it had just been defeated in battle.
"Hey," Ron said casually, dropping down into the seat across from Wilhelm without asking if it was okay. He started unpacking the chess pieces as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "Feel like a game?"
Wilhelm blinked. "Wizarding chess?"
"Yeah," Ron said, already setting up the board. "You looked bored. Thought you could use a distraction."
"I was eating," Wilhelm replied flatly, gesturing toward his plate.
Ron shrugged, grinning. "You can eat and play at the same time."
Wilhelm stared at him for a moment, then let out a small sigh. He slid his plate to the side to make space. "Fine."
They started playing. Wilhelm wasn't bad at chess. He only knew the rules and how the pieces move, he could recognize patterns and plan several moves ahead, especially when he focused. But as the match went on, it became clear that Ron wasn't just good, he was naturally talented. He moved pieces with confidence, reacting quickly and thinking several steps ahead, as if the game lived in his brain.
Wilhelm's pieces fought hard, but Ron's were relentless.
About halfway through the game, when things had quieted down a bit and Wilhelm was focused on studying the board, Ron leaned forward on the table and asked, "Say, Wilhelm, you're pretty smart, yeah?"
Wilhelm looked up slowly, one eyebrow raised. The question caught him off guard. "I… suppose?" he said carefully.
Ron looked over at Harry, who gave a little shrug, as if saying, "Go ahead." Then Ron leaned forward again and asked, "What do you know about Nicolas Flamel?"
That made Wilhelm freeze for a second. His hand hovered above a pawn, and he didn't move it. Out of all the things Ron could've asked, that wasn't one he'd expected not from him. If anything, Wilhelm had thought Hermione Granger would be the one to bring up that name, probably in the middle of the library surrounded by books. But Ron? This was surprising.
Wilhelm slowly placed the pawn down and looked at Ron. "Nicolas Flamel," he repeated. "He's a French alchemist. Very well-known, especially among magical historians."
Harry leaned in slightly, clearly interested now. "He is?"
Wilhelm nodded. "Yes. He's most famous for creating the Philosopher's Stone."
Harry blinked. "Wait–the thing that turns stuff into gold?"
Wilhelm gave a small nod. "Exactly. The stone is said to be able to turn any metal into pure gold. But more importantly, it can make the Elixir of Life."
"Elixir of what now?" Ron asked.
"Elixir of Life," Wilhelm said again, keeping his voice calm. "It's a potion that can keep someone alive for a very long time, as long as they keep drinking it. That's how Flamel has lived for centuries."
Ron's eyebrows went up. "So he's, what, immortal?"
"Not quite," Wilhelm corrected. "Just very good at delaying death. Nicolas Flamel is six hundred and sixty-four years old this year."
Harry gave a low whistle. "Blimey."
Wilhelm smirked faintly and moved his bishop, knocking out one of Ron's pieces. "Though I doubt he travels much these days."
Ron grunted in response and moved his knight to strike back. The piece marched across the board and smashed Wilhelm's rook with a loud crack. The pieces grumbled to each other as they took their new positions.
Wilhelm leaned forward, studying the board again. But his mind was elsewhere. Why were they asking about Nicolas Flamel? Had they already started digging into the mystery surrounding the third-floor corridor? How much did they know?
He kept his tone light, and asked, "Why the sudden interest in Flamel?"
Ron just grinned, clearly trying to play it cool. "Just curious."
Harry, less skilled at hiding things, looked down at the table and didn't say anything.
Wilhelm narrowed his eyes slightly, then made his next move. "Curious," he repeated quietly, but his mind was somewhere else, putting pieces together that had nothing to do with the chessboard.
---
Christmas morning was calm and quiet. Snow covered the grounds of Hogwarts like a soft white blanket. Wilhelm sat by one of the tall windows, a warm cup of tea in his hands, watching snowflakes fall slowly from the grey sky. The common room was quiet, lit by the gentle flicker of enchanted candles. It was peaceful, and Wilhelm liked it that way.
Next to him, on the small table by the armchair, sat a square package wrapped in blue paper. A neat ribbon held a note in place. Wilhelm glanced at it and read the message written in Terry's familiar handwriting:
"To Wilhelm – Open on Christmas.
Thanks for being my friend.
– Terry"
Wilhelm stared at the note for a moment, unsure how to feel. It had been a long time since someone gave him a gift. He wasn't used to it anymore–not after everything he'd been through.
Carefully, he untied the ribbon and peeled away the wrapping. Inside was a beautiful notebook. The cover was deep blue leather, soft under his gloved fingers, with a silver clasp to keep it shut. The edges of the pages shimmered faintly, lined with a magical silver ink.
He opened it to the first page.
"For your thoughts, theories, or secrets. Whatever fits."
Wilhelm traced the words slowly with his hand. He remembered mentioning, just once, that his current notebook was running out of space. He hadn't thought Terry was really listening. But here it was–a thoughtful gift that said more than the note did.
Closing the book gently, Wilhelm stood and walked across the room to his trunk. He opened the bottom drawer and pulled out a long, wooden box he had been working on for the past few nights.
It held a wizarding chess set–but not an ordinary one. This one he had made himself.
The board folded neatly in half, and each square was made from carefully cut birch and walnut wood. The pieces were small, enchanted figures he had carved by hand. Some came from magical driftwood he'd found near the lake, others from small scraps of enchanted bone. They weren't fancy, but they were special. Each piece was different. The king looked a bit like Dumbledore, and the queen had the stern expression and grace of Professor McGonagall. The pawns wore tiny Hogwarts robes, and when placed on the board, they would wave at the players.
Wilhelm smiled faintly as he slipped a small note inside the box:
"For future matches.
Pieces are mostly polite, but the queen bites if you gloat.
– Wilhelm."
Later that afternoon, with the snow still falling outside, Wilhelm wrapped the box in paper and tied it carefully with a rope. Then he made his way to the Owlery, where dozens of owls rested in their nests high up in the stone tower. The air smelled like feathers and hay, and the sound of wings rustling filled the space.
A snowy owl blinked down at him as he approached. Wilhelm gave the owl the package and tied it securely to its leg.
"Take this to Terry Boot." he said softly.
---
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter or any of the original elements from the books, movies, or universe. All rights belong to J.K. Rowling and the respective creators. This is just a fanfiction made for fun. I'm not a professional author—just someone who had an idea and wanted to write it down. Please don't expect perfect grammar or writing, I'm doing my best and learning as I go.