Since the first round of Quidditch matches ended, nothing major had happened at Hogwarts. Days passed peacefully one by one, and in the blink of an eye, Christmas Eve arrived with its familiar chill creeping through the castle's ancient stones.
"Sterling, are you going home?"
Terry held up the staying-at-school registration form, the parchment rustling softly in his hands as he asked Sterling, who shook his head without hesitation.
He couldn't think of any home to return to. Why would Terry ask such a question? How strange.
"Are you going home?" Sterling wrote in his notebook, the quill scratching against the paper.
"Of course I'm going back, though my father probably can't return this holiday either. The Department of Mysteries has the most work in the entire Ministry, especially during holidays. I'll probably go to Ireland with my mother."
"Didn't you plan to go to France before?"
Terry's expression darkened. "I can tell you don't read the Daily Prophet. France's magical community has recently had terrorist attacks! They say it's a terrifying Dark wizard hiding in black mist. Even all French Aurors working together couldn't capture him..."
"Now nobody dares vacation in France. Who knows if that Dark wizard has left?"
Ah... France... Sterling felt cold sweat bead on his forehead.
When he'd modified Voldemort's location, he'd written France... Guilt gnawed at his stomach like a hungry creature.
"No large-scale casualties, right?" Sterling's writing was practically floating across the page, his hand trembling slightly.
"Not really. That Dark wizard seemed single-mindedly focused on escaping. His powerful magic mostly targeted buildings blocking his path. Only a few unlucky people were killed." Terry paused, studying Sterling's face intently. "Why are you showing relieved and guilty expressions?"
Sterling turned his head away quickly, heat rising in his cheeks. Terry's eyes widened with dawning comprehension, but ultimately he said nothing, just passed the departure registration form to Sterling with a knowing look.
"You've prepared my gift, right? If I don't see my gift when I wake up tomorrow morning..."
Sterling drew a large "OK" in his notebook, the letters bold and confident. Since officially beginning the Animagus ritual, his drawing skills had improved remarkably.
As for using Langlock to secure the leaf, Professor McGonagall had severely criticized this approach. This stage of Animagus transformation didn't allow magical intervention; he had to ensure the leaf's absolute purity.
Professor McGonagall recommended eating only liquid food, but Sterling thought of a unique trick.
During meals, he used "Witness of the Author" to modify reality, writing down realities that absolutely wouldn't affect the leaf, then eating whatever he wanted. The rich aromas of roast beef and pumpkin pasties filled his senses as he enjoyed normal meals in private.
Since the magic's target was reality rather than the leaf, it wouldn't disturb the leaf's purity.
But because it was so exhausting, Sterling now combined three meals into one portion and hid in his dormitory to eat, leading Terry and Harry to unanimously believe his eating habits might be "extremely unseemly, unfit for public viewing."
"That's good. Look forward to your Christmas gift. I specially got French goods from overseas! Due to recent events, things there have gotten much cheaper."
Haha, that's actually quite good... Sterling again avoided Terry's penetrating gaze.
"Where did Hermione and Padma go? I haven't seen them all day?"
Terry looked at Sterling, who was tilting his head and pointing his notebook at him, suddenly feeling the urge to facepalm and smile bitterly.
"They're all in Utopia. Harry seems to have made another breakthrough in Charms recently. He called Hermione over for practice first thing this morning, and Padma went to watch the spectacle."
"Why didn't he ask you and me?"
"Unless Harry's head fell off his broomstick and got addled, he'd never ask you. What progress could there be in one second? As for me... he did want to ask initially, but I refused. Fighting and killing isn't my hobby."
Terry's voice carried a note of weariness. "I'm just a researcher, without their kind of power."
"Alright, hope they'll be satisfied with my gifts." Sterling put away his notebook, the leather cover warm against his palm as he prepared to return to his dormitory to continue his alchemical endeavors.
"Can't I take a look? I'll only look at Harry and the others' gifts, not mine?"
Sterling turned back and crossed his arms in a big "×" toward Terry, the gesture firm and final.
Gifts for others, besides gift-giver Sterling, the first person to see them should naturally be the recipient! Besides, once Terry entered, with his observational skills, it would be miraculous if he couldn't find his own gift!
Sterling's door closed with a decisive thud. Even Terry's self-proclaimed "professional Quidditch player" level eyesight only glimpsed two large cauldrons bubbling ominously and piles of unknown materials scattered across every surface.
The moment he entered, Sterling immediately rushed to the cauldron, seeing the boiling potion about to explode in a shower of sparks. The acrid smell of overheated ingredients filled his nostrils. After casting Flame-Freezing Charms on his feet, he gave the copper vessel two solid kicks, the metallic ring echoing through the room as he kicked the cauldron into submission.
With the cauldron's rotation, bubbles in the potion gradually calmed, transforming from violent purple to serene pink, emitting a refreshing fragrance that reminded him of spring gardens. Lily scent, sweet and pure.
Sterling nodded with satisfaction and began bottling, the glass vials clinking softly as he worked.
This was his prepared Christmas gift for Professor Snape, specially formulated "Page Brand Super-Strength Oil-Removing Shampoo" to thank him for his special tutoring on potion ingredient concepts.
Absolutely for solving Professor Snape's pain points, not for revenge because he'd argued with Sterling last Thursday at 8 PM about whose potion methods were correct, then docked five points from Ravenclaw when he couldn't win the argument.
Sterling held no grudges whatsoever.
As for the lily fragrance, he'd asked Dumbledore and learned it was Snape's favorite scent. This was pure goodwill, hoping Snape would wash his hair for the lilies' sake.
Having solved Snape's portion, what remained unprepared were gifts for the seven-person group and Nicolas Flamel's gift. Sterling planned to give alchemical items for both, the challenge making his fingers tingle with anticipation.
First, for Nicolas, an Alchemical Slime.
This inspiration came from his conversation with Nicolas, who'd planned to give Sterling a dragon that wasn't living but could do everything real dragons could... Using this as inspiration, Sterling planned to create a similar alchemical creature.
Originally, this would be somewhat difficult for his level. After all, the magical world had no slimes. Configuring substances with properties matching fantasy slimes belonged to Vitam's level of alchemy.
But he had manifestation.
No need to figure out creation methods. Directly manifest a slime, leaving the thinking to omnipotent magic power.
It would solve problems itself.
This time, after Sterling wrote "dead slime," manifestation took quite long. The air around him shimmered with potential energy.
Sterling waited about ten minutes before a brain-sized gelatinous substance fell from midair with a wet plop. He caught it, the texture cool and oddly pleasant against his palms, and threw it onto his workbench.
Next was assembly line work. Analyzing composition, crafting, covering alchemical framework... The scent of heated metals and bubbling reagents filled the dormitory.
In just an hour, a round green slime appeared on the workbench, its surface rippling like disturbed water. Sterling packed it carefully in a gift box for Dumbledore to forward to Nicolas Flamel.
Next were the seven-person group's gifts. Sterling planned to make a tool facilitating communication between Utopia members.
The magical world had two-way mirrors for convenient communication, but they were too expensive. Even if Sterling could sell Maleficent's gems for money, Terry and the others probably wouldn't accept such precious gifts.
Besides, two-way mirrors only allowed fixed two-person communication. For seven people to communicate with each other... carry seven mirrors jingling around? Somewhat amusing.
Sterling extracted a mass of Avalonian mist, the substance glowing with soft blue-pink light.
This was the substance connecting Avalon and the present world, naturally possessing terrifying conductive abilities. Sterling would use it as the foundation for alchemical creation.
First, some silver to enhance magical conduction, the metal gleaming like liquid mercury. Fairy scale powder to connect Avalonian and present-world materials, then dump materials that could extract "language" and "communication" concepts into the cauldron to mix together...
This was a new cauldron, its interior gleaming spotlessly. Alchemical cauldrons should be separate from potion cauldrons.
Sterling learned the most ancient alchemy, when alchemy and potions weren't so distinctly separated. Alchemy had just emerged from potions, so many aspects were interconnected like roots of the same tree.
Clear spring water appeared from nowhere, washing away residue from the cauldron bottom with musical tinkling sounds, revealing seven gleaming badges that caught the candlelight.
Potions extracted all needed concepts from materials, then covered each material's unneeded concepts, blending them into one comprehensive finished product.
Alchemy extracted needed concepts then pulverized unneeded ones, using those broken concepts to purify and refine needed concepts, finally condensing pure concepts into form.
As for what form, that was the wizard's intervention result.
Sterling picked up a badge, its weight substantial and warm in his palm. The overall design was sky blue with gold-red decorative accents that seemed to shift in the light. The main body was a seven-pointed star, each point dyed powder blue like morning sky.
The badge's center bore Roman numerals "I" through "VII," with corresponding numbers carved at each point's base in elegant script.
Sterling pressed the point marked "6" and said a brief "Hello" to the badge's center, his voice barely above a whisper.
Couldn't say more, or the Mandrake leaf would object.
Hearing "Hello" echo back from the badge marked "6," Sterling smiled with pure joy, the sound clear as a bell.
This way, he could attempt repairing the Shield Charm necklace during summer vacation. Just in time, as Terry's birthday was mid-summer.