When Lewis saw Nearly Headless Nick with his own eyes, even he felt a chill.
The ghost was no longer pale, translucent white. Instead, it had turned pitch-black, wreathed in smoky wisps. It lay motionless in midair, still floating about six inches above the ground.
Its head hung halfway detached, its face frozen in a look of sheer terror.
Even when petrified, it could still float—what a bizarre sight.
Lewis stepped forward, studying it carefully. However, he couldn't detect anything particularly unusual. The substance that made up the ghost hadn't changed; it was simply saturated with a dense curse-like energy. In that sense, it was no different from petrified humans.
After that, they went to see Justin. The boy's face was twisted in fear, clearly having seen the attacker. Someone like Harry could never have caused such an expression.
Unfortunately, the other students wouldn't understand that. For a while, Harry was bound to have a rough time.
One noteworthy detail was that even in his petrified state, Justin was still clutching his protective amulet tightly. The Weasley twins immediately capitalized on this, claiming that Justin must have sensed danger beforehand thanks to the amulet and reacted instinctively. Being petrified was just a stroke of bad luck.
As a result, Lewis's amulets sold out yet again before Christmas.
The holiday soon arrived, and Lewis boarded the Hogwarts Express along with the others, heading home. Because of the Chamber of Secrets incident, far more students were leaving than usual.
Of course, for Lewis, the train ride was just for show. Once they arrived at King's Cross Station, he directly used Teleportation to bring Cirilla back to Ottery St. Catchpole, reopening his demi-plane.
Soon, the villagers noticed that the forest and tower—absent for months—had suddenly reappeared.
On Christmas Day, a heavy snowfall blanketed the village in white.
Cirilla, who usually woke up early, slept in until noon for once.
When she opened the door, the yard was covered in silver snow, while the greenhouse—used to cultivate magical plants—remained as warm and vibrant as spring.
Before reopening the demi-plane, Lewis had hurriedly used Glassification to turn sand into glass, constructing the greenhouse. Then he painstakingly enchanted it with Daylight, Create Water, Drying, and Temperature Control spells.
With a combination of arcane and druidic magic, even a Muggle could operate the greenhouse like controlling an air conditioner—adjusting sunlight, rain, temperature, and humidity to ensure perfect growing conditions at all times.
The contrast between the snowy white outside and the lush greenery inside was refreshing to behold.
Cirilla stretched at the doorway, then casually performed a full sword routine as her "morning exercise."
Nearby, the exhausted owl Hemo was being chased around by the mischievous augurey Circe, enduring it patiently. During Lewis's absence, they had been tasked with pest control in the greenhouse.
On a whim, Cirilla scooped up a snowball and tossed it straight at Hemo's head.
Caught off guard, Hemo flapped its wings indignantly and flew off to the kitchen to complain to Lewis.
Lewis himself had just woken up not long ago. The night before, the two of them had watched Home Alone 2 in the living room. Cirilla had laughed so much that she insisted on watching the first movie afterward, keeping them up late.
Their chaotic schedule had been like this for a while now.
Since the holidays began, they had completely let loose. Movies, video games, TV, magical research, and the occasional intense sword duel—they did whatever they felt like.
With Hermione gone, they were far more relaxed.
Lewis had gradually come to understand something about relationships. Maintaining multiple connections through sheer charm might sound appealing, but when there was competition, girls tended to hold back. Only when alone together could real progress be made.
As Hemo chirped complaints about being bullied, Lewis stood at the stove, focused on cooking. While Hemo lacked the intelligence for full sentences, Lewis still caught key words like "snow," "hit me," and "woman."
Waving his wand, Lewis declared dramatically, "Pots and pans, submit to me!"
The kitchen sprang to life. One knife finely chopped vegetables, mushrooms, and seasonings, while another handled the pork. Flour and water had already been mixed; with a light tap and a hint of Haste, the dough rapidly expanded.
Meanwhile, the prepared ingredients floated into the air, forming a swirling vortex before blending perfectly together.
The filling was complete.
Lewis tapped both the filling and the dough. "Severing Charm!"
Though he could cast it silently, he spoke the incantation for effect. The dough and filling divided evenly into dozens of portions, as if sliced by an invisible grid.
The dough flattened into small rounds, each portion of filling settling neatly in the center. With a flick of his wand, each wrapper folded itself into a bun.
The finished buns grew tiny legs and obediently walked onto a plate, while the final batch hopped into the waiting steamer.
The lid closed, and blue flames ignited beneath it.
Perfect.
Now, all that remained was to wait.
Cooking with magic flowed so smoothly that Lewis almost felt like he was starring in a cooking anime. If only the food could glow.
At that moment, Cirilla quietly approached. She gestured for silence toward Hemo perched by the window.
Moving with a witcher's stealth, she slipped behind Lewis like a silent cat. Then, in one swift motion, she yanked open his collar and shoved a snowball down his back.
Lewis's psionic senses had already detected her, but he hadn't paid much attention. Now caught off guard, he grimaced, pulled the snowball out, and retaliated immediately.
"S-Sorry!"
The moment he did, he realized something was off and quickly apologized.
"Was that on purpose or an accident?!" Cirilla snapped, clutching her chest as she retreated.
Lewis glanced at his right hand.
…That felt pretty good. Great potential, even.
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