Chapter 254: The Gift
On the morning of the next day, Christmas finally arrived.
Felix Harp woke up early and emerged from his bedroom to find the small Christmas tree in his office surrounded by various gifts.
With a cheerful mood, he began to unwrap the presents. "A book, not bad," he said as he set aside "Forgotten Ancient Magic and Spells". "Unfortunately, I've already read it."
"Oh, Trixie sent me a gift?" Felix Harp thought his eyes might be playing tricks on him. He looked at the signature on the note again, and yes, it was indeed from Sybil Trelawney. He opened the wrapping to find a long string of pearls, a piece of jewelry that could fit three of him inside.
Reading the contents of the note, as cryptic as usual - "To offer protection in the darkness." Felix Harp shrugged. "You truly have your ways. I've dropped out of your class, and yet you find a chance to give me a prophecy."
He decided to mail a barrel of Honeyed Firewhisky from his three broomsticks as a thank-you gift. Well... note it down for later, tackle it along with the rest of the gifts.
He then opened another package, which turned out to be "The Quidditch Beater's Bible" from Professor McGonagall. He casually flipped to a page that boldly stated, "First Principle: Knock the Bludgers out of the way," and he couldn't help but burst into laughter.
Felix continued to open the gift boxes, most of which were books, and a considerable portion of them he had already read. In that moment, he empathized with Dumbledore's dilemma.
He muttered to himself, "Many people think they should give me books, assuming I'll love them."
Fortunately, Dumbledore had given Felix a handcrafted silver item, similar to the trinkets on the Headmaster's desk. When touched gently, it sprayed out clusters of mist. Hagrid gifted him a large bottle of Acromantula venom, and he wasn't quite sure how to use it. Perhaps he could pass it on to Professor Snape next year? Snape gave him a small bottle of potent antidote. "A perfect pairing with the Strengthening Solution you received last year," he mused.
Professor Flitwick presented a fancy hat, and even Lupin contributed some magical creature materials. Judging by their processing methods, Felix guessed that Lupin had "acquired" them himself.
Among these gifts, he found one unmarked gift box that had just arrived that morning. Upon opening it, he discovered a clay figurine inside.
From the figure's black hair and blue eyes, Felix recognized it as a representation of "himself."
Though there was no signature, the distinct earthy smell of the clay was familiar to Felix. He picked it up and examined it for a moment before putting it away.
The unwrapping process continued for an hour, and he noted down a list of names on a parchment next to him. These were the ones he needed to give gifts to.
"Hmm, even Christmas requires work."
Hagrid regarded them skeptically, but the trio immediately bombarded him with their explanation of Felix's suggestion.
"Will this work?"
"Give it a shot, Hagrid! It can't get worse."
So, Hagrid penned a letter to Professor Kettleburn. The ink on Hagrid's note was nearly solidified on the windowsill, but it was Hermione who conjured a bright blue flame to melt it.
As they exited Hagrid's cabin, Hermione said with hope, "I really hope Professor Kettleburn can influence the Ministry."
Harry and Ron wore expressions of agreement. However, in the next moment, Hermione's demeanor turned serious. "Harry, I still want to discuss the matter of the Firebolt with you."
"Oh, come on, Hermione. Today's Christmas," Ron protested.
"And so what? You don't mind trying the Firebolt? I need to remind you—it arrived anonymously, no sender's name, no note, nothing!" Hermione exclaimed sharply.
"Is that so? Do you know what I think? I hope you'll take better care of your cat and stop letting it sneak into the dormitory!" Ron's volume also rose. "Crookshanks has had it tough!"
Harry looked resigned. The two of them had argued multiple times over Hermione's cat—Crookshanks. The cat was truly peculiar, always eyeing Ron's pet, Scabbers. While it was common knowledge that cats ate mice, Harry genuinely wished Crookshanks would try a different diet—even if it was a juicy spider.
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