Behind him were three pairs of lively eyes. The little McGonagalls kept cheering until Sean stepped inside.
"It's Wizard Green!" Sarah cried.
"Best Christmas ever!" Bud threw up his short little arms.
"Ugh, Sarah, Bud—honestly, have some dignity… Mr. Green, would you trade that pretty candy wrapper for the fun biscuit in your pouch?" Zowie asked, acting shy even though she was the first to scamper over.
In no time Sean was swallowed up by the three little ones. It took some effort, but he finally managed to shoo all three cats away.
"Christmas… oh, Christmas…" Marcus sat on his usual soft sofa, smiling as if he were talking to himself.
"Merry Christmas, Grandpa Marcus," Sean said, placing a neatly wrapped sky-blue gift box into Marcus's hands, then taking a seat by the fire.
Snow still whirled outside the window. A kneazle lay in front of the hearth like a big ginger-yellow fur rug.
"Ah, a gift—oh, a gift… yes, yes, look at this—" Marcus set the box into the cabinet with exaggerated care, like it was fragile glass.
Then he produced a long, narrow case, blinked at Sean, and handed it over.
Sean studied the case with curiosity, not rushing to open it.
While he was looking, a woman came down the stairs. Her hair was neatly curled and carefully arranged. The moment she reached the bottom step, moisture gathered in her bright eyes.
"My dear Minerva…"
Before Professor McGonagall could even react, the woman's hand was already on her back.
"How long has it been since I last saw you… If you ask how heavy this longing is—oh, it isn't heavy at all. Just the white snow on a winter mountain."
In the remote southern outskirts of London, the fields lay frozen under January winds. As far as the eye could see—villages, slopes, riverbanks, broken walls and neglected graves—everything wore the same white melancholy.
Amid the crackle of the fire and the kettle's low, bubbling boil, only Nai's bright, faint voice remained.
"We were so steeped in grief that we forgot to care for the living—especially those who hunger for love…
"I heard those terrible things again, Minerva.
"Marcus says that if the Dark Lord returns, he will go to the battlefield no matter what. I know. I believe it. And even so—when capable people make the effort, at the very least fewer souls will be destroyed, fewer families torn apart.
"So I told him: If you truly believe it's a goal worth pursuing, then let us run toward the fight together."
Nai's eyes and brows were filled with sadness that wouldn't disperse. She, too, was a witch—and she wasn't unfamiliar with what was happening in Britain's wizarding world.
"You've… made a great decision," Professor McGonagall said, staring into the distance, her expression grave.
"But Minerva—why do we fight?
"For ourselves, purely to escape that terrible rule? Or for others—people we've never even met, whether they belong to the magical world or not?"
The topic was too heavy. The little McGonagalls didn't understand, but they sensed the mood at once. They didn't dare linger in the sitting room and ran out into the snow to play instead.
Nai looked at Sean—the pale-skinned boy whose cheeks were still pink from the hug she'd given him.
"It's for the next generation of witches and wizards—so they won't have to fight.
"We remnants of the old era… those who know what that rule of terror costs… we'll fight to the end."
"Nai, you've always been decisive," Professor McGonagall let out a deep sigh.
"Minerva—send him away. If what's happened at Hogwarts is real, then the Dark Lord's return can't be stopped.
"Uagadou, Ilvermorny, Castelobruxo—any of them would be excellent choices.
"This land is about to ignite. That fire shouldn't scorch young souls."
Nai's earnest tone made Minerva McGonagall waver.
"Hogwarts is the safest place," Minerva said at last, after a long pause.
"I knew you'd say that. I only want you to realize one thing.
"You became his Secret-Keeper—so as long as you're alive, he won't be harmed."
With a soft, quiet sigh, the conversation ended.
…
Upstairs, Sean was opening Marcus's gift.
Inside was a brand-new wand—and a Portkey shaped like a piece of parchment.
Curious, Sean took out the letter lying in the center of the box and began to read.
[My dear little Green—did that gift scare you half to death?
The one on the left is your new wand. And I'll quietly tell you this: it can be used anywhere without being tracked.
Surprised? But don't thank your all-powerful Grandpa Marcus yet—look at Nai's gift first.
That's a Portkey to somewhere special: a place under the Fidelius Charm, a place that belongs only to you.
I'm honored to be your Secret-Keeper. And of course, I prepared a backup too—oh, Minerva would be delighted to help…
What do you think? A cottage no one will ever find! Merlin, it was my childhood dream.]
As Sean slowly lowered the letter, Bai Yi peered at it curiously, her talons casting a shadow over the page.
Sean tucked the letter, the wand, and the parchment-like Portkey into the Wizard's Book. Looking toward the distant hills, he felt that the shadow of war had never truly gone away.
At the very least, time had never healed the wounds in the hearts of witches and wizards who'd lost their loved ones.
…
Aside from the first day's slightly heavy mood, life on the farm was mostly easy and pleasant.
Marcus started work before dawn every day. With a little magic here and there, he kept the whole farm in perfect order, leaving the McGonagall villa completely self-sufficient.
Truth be told, it's hard for a witch or wizard to starve.
Even without tricks like Confundus Charms to get food from the Muggle world, a wizard and their family can easily mark out an empty stretch of land and cultivate it;
using magic to speed crop growth isn't difficult;
raising chickens, ducks, geese, and pigs is simple enough (the Weasleys were proof of that);
and with Growth Charms and Weather Charms, crops can be harvested multiple times within a few months.
And if you go even further—like Sean's Wizard's Book—he could literally carve out space itself to grow whatever he wanted. And, in principle, raise nearly any animal as well.
~~~
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