The next morning, Jon woke from his sleep.
After a quick wash, he headed to the Hufflepuff common room out of habit—only to find it unusually empty.
It didn't take long for him to realize why. The Christmas holidays had begun… Aside from himself, the only other Hufflepuff staying at school seemed to be a first-year girl whose name he didn't know.
It was good news for him — with the common room so quiet, he could read and study without having to trek all the way to the Room of Requirement on the eighth floor in this freezing weather.
Jon quickly brought down a stack of thick books and a roll of parchment. He spent his days tucked away in the common room, slipping next door to the kitchens whenever he got hungry. Lately, the House-elves had been serving particularly lavish fare.
Elsewhere in the castle, the usual Christmas decorations were already in place.
Although few students had stayed, the corridors were draped with garlands of holly and mistletoe, and the Great Hall still boasted twelve Christmas trees glittering with golden stars.
The holiday atmosphere was as strong as ever.
On Christmas Eve, Jon carried a bundle of gifts to the Owlery.
He'd had owls fetch them from Diagon Alley and London a few days earlier.
For his parents, he sent a pair of gloves and a scarf enchanted with Warming Charms—cozy no matter how cold the weather.
For the kitchen House-elves, he sent several pairs of children's shoes. Giving clothes to House-elves was taboo, but shoes were harmless enough.
For Astoria, he chose a modest set of Ikarus cosmetics.
...
On Christmas morning, Jon's alarm clock pulled him from sleep.
At the foot of his bed sat a small pile of packages.
Pulling on a sweater, he eyed the gifts.
"Time for the annual present opening," he murmured to himself.
The top package contained a black wool sweater—clearly from Judy.
Eric's gift was a photo album, with a picture from each year of his life from age one to thirteen.
Jon stored both away carefully, then opened the next: Astoria's gift. It was a chocolate cake shaped like a Christmas tree, "Merry Christmas, Jon" scrawled across it in wobbly cream.
It had to be homemade. He took a bite—it was all right, though nowhere near the standard of the House-elves' baking.
The next gift was tiny. Inside lay a fine gold chain, its pendant a spinning golden wheel, wrapped in a long strip of parchment.
The parchment was packed with handwritten Christmas wishes—nearly a hundred of them, each in a different hand. The first was signed "Klein."
A gift from the House-elves.
Jon felt a warm glow inside. He tucked the parchment into the innermost compartment of his trunk and fastened the pendant around his neck.
There were still more gifts—one from Professor Sprout, from Zacharias, from Hannah… He examined each before putting them away.
A sudden "Bang! Bang!" at the window drew his attention.
He opened the frost-covered pane to find a dark brown owl tumble inside, panting heavily.
Tied to its right leg was a letter. Jon untied it quickly and unfolded it:
My dear student,
It's been a long time. How are you? How is your progress with what I taught you?
I'm in Corsica now, enjoying the warmest Christmas of my life!
Those distant cousins of the werewolves have recently shifted their target, and a friend of the headmaster's has given me great help. My life has finally settled down a little!
Wishing you all the best.
P.S. Merry Christmas!
G.K.L.
The short, hurriedly written note brought a smile to Jon's face.
No doubt it was from Gilderoy Lockhart. After nearly a year, he finally had news from him.
Lockhart might have been a fraud, but he had helped Jon—and taught him the Memory Charm. Jon still felt grateful.
Hearing that Sirius Black's escape had caused the Dementors to ease their pursuit of Lockhart made Jon quietly glad for him.
He took up a quill and wrote back:
Dear Professor,
Thank you for your concern. I've mastered the spell you taught me very well!
I was delighted to hear from you and to know you're out of danger.
I wish you a safe return…
And Merry Christmas!
J.A.H.
He placed the reply in the metal tube on the owl's leg.
"Take this back to the sender," Jon murmured to it.
After feeding the owl a few breadcrumbs, he sent it back into the wintry sky.
...
With the gifts put away, Jon left the Hufflepuff common room for the first time all holiday.
That afternoon, the Great Hall hosted a grand Christmas feast.
At the entrance, Jon ran into Hermione Granger. The famous trio hadn't gone home this year, staying instead at Hogwarts.
"Merry Christmas, Hermione!" Jon greeted her with a smile.
"You… hello…" she replied distractedly.
She hurried past him.
"Professor McGonagall!" Jon heard her call.
In the corner of the hall, Hermione spoke intently with McGonagall. Jon caught only fragments—"Christmas present," "Black," "Firebolt."
Moments later, McGonagall followed Hermione out toward Gryffindor Tower.
After a quiet moment of sympathy for Harry's Firebolt, Jon stepped into the hall.
The four long tables had been pushed to the walls, replaced by a single table in the center big enough for a dozen people. Professor Dumbledore had traded his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered lady's hat, a sight both absurd and strangely fitting.
Jon took a seat.
"Care for some sausage, Jon? They're delicious," Dumbledore said warmly, sliding a plate toward him.
"Thank you, Professor!" Jon replied quickly, taking it.