It is foreseeable that Mr. Davima will have to live in this world in the form of a Flubber Worm from now on.
Harry didn't think he was being cruel; compared to those people harmed by Davima as written in the wanted poster, this was quite a merciful punishment.
However, Harry didn't notice and accidentally stepped on the Flubber Worm while passing by.
On the way back to the restaurant, Harry waited in the lavatory until the Age-Enhancing Potion wore off, changed clothes, and sat in front of Ron, who only then raised his head.
"Hey, mate," Ron greeted, "What took you so long?"
"Didn't feel so well," Harry said, "I think we should head back, Mr. Granger might be impatiently waiting outside."
"Alright." Ron only then pocketed his precious magic wand.
As they left the Broken Cauldron Bar, Harry saw Mr. Granger brimming with joy.
"Uncle Granger," he and Ron greeted together.
"Little ones," Mr. Granger opened his arms and gave each a hug with a hearty smile, "Let's go, we'll buy some things at Harrods Department Store and then head home."
It was clear that Mr. Granger was genuinely happy; Harry and Ron each even got a doughnut, supposedly from some American chain brand.
Unable to resist Mr. Granger's enthusiasm, Harry and Ron decided to stay another night at the Granger family.
Uncle Granger promised to take them back first thing in the morning.
With his new magic wand in hand, Ron was eager to practice with Hermione, but since young wizards aren't allowed to cast spells outside of school, he could only think about it.
"Really, there was no such rule at home," Ron muttered.
"That's because we're in a Muggle District," Hermione said, "Just think, once magic is cast, the Ministry of Magic can pinpoint our location, and recognize who cast the spell—let me see, who in this young wizard's family can cast magic? Oh, it's Hermione!"
After spending another night at the Granger family, Mr. Granger drove them to the Broken Cauldron Bar early the next morning.
The two took the express train back to Hogwarts; given the holiday, the castle was somewhat deserted, with only a few students reading in the hall.
The dormitory was left to them alone, already piled full of Christmas gifts.
"Look, this is the sweater my mum knitted."
Ron pulled out his share of the gift, lifting the sweater which had a big "R" embroidered on the chest.
"My mum knitted it; I've heard Percy, Fred, and George all got one; you and Hermione have one too," Ron said, "but you and Hermione's both have 'H'; the slightly bigger one is Hermione's, yours is a bit smaller."
Girls' bodies generally develop earlier than boys', especially since Hermione is also a year older than them.
Harry didn't say a word; he immediately took the gift from Ron's hand and put on the blue sweater.
"It's quite warm," Harry said with a smile, "I really like this sweater."
He stretched his body, then looked down at a thin gift.
It was from Aunt Penny.
"What is this?" Ron asked as he came closer.
Harry shrugged and told Ron, "It's from my aunt; I don't know what it is."
He opened the gift and took out a few photographs.
The people in them were surprisingly his mother, Lily.
"Ah, it's my mom," Harry said in surprise, fidgeting with them, "There are five pictures, all about my mom."
Ron leaned over to look at the photos, sincerely admiring, "Your mom is really beautiful."
"Who says she isn't?" Harry kept flipping through the pictures with a grin, already deciding in his heart what to gift his aunt.
In light of these photos, he thought he would gift some Beauty Potions.
Suddenly, Ron pointed to a photo and exclaimed, "Ah, this... why does this person look so familiar?"
Looking down, Harry saw a young girl in the photo holding a boy's arm, her warm smile overshadowing the traces of gloom on the boy's face.
The boy had black, oily hair and wore a loose black robe...
"It's Professor Snape," Harry immediately concluded, telling Ron, "See, I always said Professor Snape was good friends with my parents. I think I know what gift to give Professor Snape."
"What will you give?" Ron asked.
"Just this photo," Harry shrugged, retrieving an envelope from a drawer and placing the photo inside.
"Hedwig?" Harry called, "Could you deliver this photo to Professor Snape for me?"
After sending off Hedwig, Harry continued sifting through the gifts, finding a flute from Hagrid, cookies from the Weasley Twins, a Stimulating Potion and some magic potion materials from Miss Fari, and a large box of horseshoe-shaped chocolates from Hermione...
He then unwrapped a shimmering garment from the gifts, like fabric woven from water.
"Wow, this is... an Invisibility Cloak?" Harry said, raising an eyebrow.
He had seen such a cloak before; Cassandra had one.
"Look there's a note underneath," Ron suddenly pointed under the cloak.
Harry placed the Invisibility Cloak aside and picked up the letter.
Written on it in a slender, looped handwriting he had never seen before were the following lines:
"Your father left this with me before he died; it should be returned to you. Use it well, and I wish you a Merry Christmas."
"Who sent this?" Harry wondered aloud, turning the note over, finding no signature.
"Perhaps it's from your father's friend," Ron said enviously, eyeing the Invisibility Cloak, "If I could have something this good, I'd want nothing else."
Harry held onto the slip of paper, pondering as he often felt he had seen this handwriting somewhere before.
...
Harry wasn't the only one receiving gifts for Christmas; far away at Malfoy Manor, Draco also received his share of Christmas presents.
A young master's life is always simple yet boring; just as he boasted, his father could buy him the best, and the Christmas gifts he received each year were the best among his peers.
But Draco wasn't as fixated as Dudley on gifts; he spent the afternoon sorting them and placing them in the small study across the hall.
It was his first time in this small study, which was reportedly owned by an ancestor.
After putting the gifts away, he heard a soft thud.
A notebook had fallen from somewhere, landing just behind him.
Draco picked up the notebook, examining it closely.
The style of the notebook was somewhat old but not outdated, its cover shining with brilliance under the light, signifying its extraordinary nature.
Instantly, Draco took a liking to this notebook. He called for the house-elf to bring him a feather pen and ink, sitting at the desk to inscribe his name on it.
"Draco Malfoy"
Something peculiar happened; he discovered that the words he had written gradually seeped into the paper.
What's happening? Draco stopped his pen, perplexed as he scratched his head.
The ink seemed to be absorbed by the notebook.
In not much time, Draco's handwriting disappeared, replaced by a line of graceful script.
"Hello, I am Cassandra Malfoy."
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