The grand occasion of Christmas was over, but for Damon, one crucial step remained—opening the presents.
The presents had arrived by owl last night, but because of Lockhart's situation, Damon hadn't had the leisure to unwrap the boxes in his room until now.
Professor Flitwick had given him a dueling cloak, which could be used to protect against minor attacks and, more importantly, to confuse opponents in duels, allowing for subtle maneuvers. Professor Flitwick had promised in his letter that he would teach him the art of cloaking in dueling after Christmas.
The cloak had a pair of magical clasps at the top, allowing it to automatically adjust to Damon's shoulders with an infusion of magical power. Damon tried it on and found the length was perfect.
Incidentally, the cloak was green—Professor Flitwick had previously inquired about Damon's favorite colors and had been told they were black and white.
"It's not good for you to have such conservative tastes at such a young age. Let me give you some recommendations later."
It seemed that, with Damon's agreement, this was his choice.
Looking in the mirror, he thought, hmm. The green cloak and blue suit went quite well together.
In his previous life, as a man, Damon had always had a playful attitude towards the color green—after all, it might have something to do with NTR. For fun, he'd even tried dyeing his hair dark green and wearing related accessories.
Gradually, his curiosity about the color faded, and he actually came to truly enjoy it. Professor Flitwick's choice had pretty much hit his sweet spot; he kept it to himself because he didn't want to appear too conspicuous.
Damon snapped his fingers, and his magic cloak spontaneously fell away, folding neatly before him like a thin membrane of air.
With another casual wave, the membrane floated, undeformed, above the wardrobe.
Next.
Hmm. Professor McGonagall actually gave him a Golden Snitch. It seemed like she had completely given up on Transfiguration?
He grasped the golden orb in his hand, pressed a certain pattern, and the orb unfurled its wings, poised to soar. Damon snatched it up and put it away.
Professor McGonagall also enclosed an envelope. Besides greetings, the attitude revealed in her words almost made Damon want to laugh.
"I don't know if there's something wrong with you. What young person doesn't like Quidditch? Is there some unknown reason that has caused you to resist the sport?
If I can help you in any way, feel free to ask me!
Also, I hope you can participate in at least one Quidditch match this semester. I promise you'll love it!"
"It's not just young people who like it. Professors, even at their age, still love it, don't they?"
Damon tossed the Golden Snitch onto the desk.
Next came Professor Snape.
Damon's gift was a complete set of Harry's portraits in women's clothing. The old bat had written in advance, telling him that his Christmas present would arrive late, but he would definitely prepare it for Damon. The owl had indeed arrived later than the others, arriving only moments before Damon even thought about opening his presents.
It was hard to believe Snape could even manage this after seeing Fiendfyre.
Snape's gift was sealed in an exquisite, quaint black box. He opened it, and the lining inside was incredibly solid
. Inside lay a dazzling golden liquid—a whole flask of Felicis Felix , completely intact.
The ultimate potion, also known as the Luck Potion, was one of the most difficult to concoct. It was a magical elixir that brought good luck to the person who drank it.
However, its effects went far beyond simple "luck."
Within twelve hours of consuming the potion, anything the drinker desired would succeed, provided there was a reasonable chance of success.
If Fred Weasley and Professor Lupin had been able to drink even a little of it during the final battle, perhaps their deaths would have been avoided.
Damon was quite pleased with this exceptionally precious gift—it was one of the few items he could hardly purchase with Galleons.
He had somewhat expected Snape to give him Felix Felicis, but he hadn't expected such a large quantity—how many uses would this amount have in it? Although Damon didn't plan to use it anytime soon.
Snape's letter was the longest, containing a dense list of precautions.
1. Only a teaspoon of Felix Felicis is needed for it to work; do not overdose. (I believe your brain is smarter than a troll's, right?)
2. After using it, the user will feel lost and depressed for a period of time, losing confidence in themselves. Be extremely cautious during this time, as trouble will inevitably arise. (Especially for a foolish Gryffindor like you who loves to mess around. I advise you to lock yourself in your room and not leave during the side effects.)
3. Felix Felix is prohibited during organized competitions like sports, exams, or elections. (I know you won't need it, but I'm warning you. If I find out you gave it to Harry, hehe—)
4. Felix Felix can only work three times in a lifetime. After that, it loses its magical properties.
The letter ends with Snape's "Greetings."
[If you can focus more on potions, perhaps by the end of your life, you might even be able to create this ultimate potion—who knows? Maybe not.]
"Accept this gift, and you won't call me petty again."
Damon casually lit the envelope and shook the flask again. A golden liquid slowly flowed from the bottom of the container. In the sunlight, it might even have taken on a translucent sheen.
A sense of satisfaction washed over Damon, and he couldn't help but smile.
He took out a small reagent bottle, filled it with a portion of Felix Felicis, and placed it in his potion collection box. Currently, he had collected forty bottles of potions.
Forty bottles of different colors, representing different magical powers, lay quietly in the black collection box, a sight that was both captivating and mysterious.
As for the Felix Felicis, Damon didn't plan to use it for the time being.
He was a hamster, a hoarder, and he disliked items with negative effects. Even though the Felix Felicis's positive effects were so powerful, he had no need for it.
Perhaps one day, on a whim, he would try it, but not now.
Damon unwrapped a gift. Professor Sprout had given him some sweet hemp seeds. This plant was moderately difficult to grow, and after processing, it had a refreshing fragrance, a bit like perfume.
It seemed that even the Buddhist Sprout hoped to pique Damon's interest.
Damon casually set it aside, intending to plant it in his suitcase when he had time.
Read 20+ chapters ahead at
[email protected]/Horizons685
(End of this chapter...