Chapter 251. On Christmas Day
Morning arrived quickly on Christmas Day.
Harry sat on his four-poster bed at dawn, dazedly watching the snowflakes drifting down outside the window.
Although Hogwarts was a little deserted, all in all, he had had a pretty good week.
He didn't know how many students had stayed at Hogwarts, but over this week, besides professors, he had only seen a first-year Gryffindor and that Ministry of Magic Auror who'd been hit by a snowball.
Fortunately, with friends for company, he didn't feel lonely.
Loneliness is a very hard thing to bear,
and Harry couldn't help thinking of the Christmases he used to spend at the Dursleys'.
That was, without a doubt, a dark time for him.
He could clearly see through the crack of the door into the sitting room—Dudley screaming as he tore open presents, the mountain of wrapping paper almost burying him, Uncle Vernon guffawing in his armchair, Aunt Petunia busy with the camera, recording every greedy expression on Dudley's face.
And Harry himself could only curl up in the dark cupboard, counting the cracks in the ceiling.
Sometimes Aunt Petunia would be charitable enough to throw him a pair of Dudley's old socks, or some cheap chocolates from Uncle Vernon's company—those were usually already melted, sticky and glued to the wrapping paper...
Thinking of this, Harry patted his own face and climbed out of bed.
He should not be thinking about these things; just as Adrian Wesson had once said, one ought to look forward, not wallow in one's miserable past.
Ron was still fast asleep, and Harry didn't disturb him.
He walked to the windowsill, picked Gulu from the flowerpot, and held him in his arms.
"You seem heavier again," Harry muttered under his breath.
At Harry's words, Gulu woke from his dormant state, shook himself, and nimbly hopped onto Harry's messy head.
"Hey, don't do that."
Harry reached up to try to grab him down, but Gulu dodged with agility.
"All right, I'll allow you to be there for now," he compromised helplessly.
Lately Gulu had been especially fond of that spot.
Apart from that, there hadn't been any other changes in Gulu; he still spent most of his time asleep. But the moment Harry called,
he would wake at once.
With Gulu perched on his head, Harry sat down in the chair and began reading a book about Ancient Runes.
Sunlight spilled through the frosted window onto the pages, adding a touch of warmth to the cold dormitory.
"Harry?"
He didn't know how much time had passed when Ron's voice came from behind him.
Harry looked back and saw him sitting on the bed, rubbing his sleepy eyes.
"What are you doing?" Ron asked, half asleep.
"Studying."
"!"
Hearing Harry's reply, Ron's eyes widened and he woke up at once.
His roommate was secretly studying behind his back!
"Are you Hermione?" he said in disbelief. "This early in the morning—" Before he could finish, Ron's gaze was suddenly drawn to the pile of parcels at the foot of the bed. His eyes lit up at once. "Presents!"
Following his line of sight, Harry realised that at some point the foot of the bed had already been piled high with brightly coloured parcels.
So the two of them immediately put down what they were doing and began opening the parcels.
Harry opened the one from Mrs Weasley first. This year Mrs Weasley had knitted him another jumper, a scarlet lion jumper. In addition, there were some mince pies and cakes—all with that familiar Weasley flavour.
Next came Hagrid's, Professor Lupin's…
When he opened the last parcel, a puzzled expression appeared on Harry's face.
Inside was a large assortment of sweets from Honeydukes.
"Mm… all limited-edition sweets," Ron said after a quick glance, envy showing on his face. "This must have cost a fair bit. Who sent it?"
Harry turned it over and over for a while but didn't find any letter or note.
"I don't know," he said. "Maybe a professor?"
"Professor Wesson?"
After thinking for a bit, Ron could only come up with Wesson.
"Probably," Harry nodded.
After finishing with the presents, Harry and Ron went down to the Gryffindor common room.
However, as soon as they entered, they froze.
There was an uninvited guest in the common room.
"Professor!?" Harry said in surprise and delight.
Yes—the uninvited guest was Adrian Wesson.
"Hello! Boys!" Wesson waved at them with a smile.
He was sitting very comfortably on the sofa in the very centre of the Gryffindor common room, eating pumpkin pie he had nicked from the kitchens.
"I thought you were in America right now, Professor," Harry said happily, hurrying up to him. "Was the trip cancelled?"
"Oh, not at all," Wesson set down his food. "My family members all had important matters of their own, so I had no choice but to come back. I hope I haven't missed the Hogwarts Christmas feast."
"The feast doesn't start until noon," Ron answered offhandedly, glancing at the table in front of Wesson, where there were two small parcels. "Are those…"
"Your presents—and as for Hermione, my owl has already delivered hers," Wesson said cheerily.
"I get one too?"
Ron hadn't expected to receive a present from Wesson and was a little flattered.
"Of course. Merry Christmas, Ron."
Smiling, Wesson pushed the smaller parcel to him.
Harry also picked up his own present.
"This is—!?"
When Ron opened his parcel, he was astonished to find a gilt-edged voucher for the Magical Menagerie in Diagon Alley. In the lower-right corner of the voucher there was a line of small print stating that it could be used to select a pet from the shop free of charge.
Wesson patted Ron on the shoulder. "I thought you might need this, after all…"
Well—perhaps he'd better not go on, so as not to stir up unpleasant memories for Ron.
At the same time, Harry took his own present out of the parcel: inside were two little vials filled with liquid.
One was golden; the other was a murky black.
Pointing at the golden potion, Wesson explained with a trace of pride, "A luck potion, to give you luck—yes, that's a standard dose of Felix Felicis, which can grant the user a few hours of good fortune."
More importantly, that was something Wesson had brewed with his own hands.
After so many years of research, Wesson had finally succeeded in making his first batch of Felix Felicis.
Harry nodded seriously.
However, just as he was about to ask what the black potion did, Gulu suddenly sprang down from his head and, with lightning speed, swallowed the black potion bottle and all.
"Gulu! No!" Harry reached out in alarm to stop him, but it was already too late.
"It's all right, Harry," Wesson said, waving his hand when he saw it. "That was prepared for Gulu in the first place."
Only then did Harry breathe a sigh of relief.
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