After several days of heavy storms, the skies suddenly cleared just before Christmas. At dawn, a thin layer of frost sparkled across the muddy grass, and the sky turned a dazzling, bright white.
Though Christmas was still a while away, the castle was already abuzz with the special kind of cheer that only came with the holiday season.
Everyone was happily discussing their plans for the break.
"Dad wants to take me skiing," said Hermione. "We've talked about it for ages, but we've never managed to find the time."
"So you're going home for Christmas this year?" Harry asked.
"No, I'm staying at school—I need to get through these." Hermione pulled out her stuffed-to-bursting schoolbag and plunked three massive tomes onto the table.
"You're going to read all of that over Christmas break?" Ron gawked at her, eyes wide. "You're joking!"
To him, Lockhart's books were already thick enough, but each one Hermione had just produced was equal to three Lockhart books stacked together—and even bigger in size.
It would take Ron months to finish reading one of them, let alone three. And they still had holiday homework to do!
"I'm not joking!" Hermione snapped, sounding increasingly irritable these days.
Ron shrugged and turned to Harold.
"I'm going home for Christmas," Harold said.
"That's a shame," said Ron. "I was hoping to sneak a peek at your Divination homework."
"Can't be helped," Harold replied. "I've come across something strange lately—I think it's worth going home to ask my grandfather about it."
"Something to do with wandmaking?" Harry asked, intrigued.
Harold nodded. It was indeed wand-related, something he had noticed while working with the Dementor materials over the past few days.
"Is it something bad?" Harry asked.
"No, quite the opposite," said Harold. "It's just… recently I've been crafting wands with unusual ease. Last year it would take me half an hour to carve the runes, but now I can do it in fifteen minutes."
"That's a good thing though, right?" Ron said dismissively, thinking Harold was making a fuss—or just showing off.
It was like finishing an essay in half the usual time—clearly something to be happy about.
And yes, in theory, that should be a good thing. But Harold couldn't shake the uneasy feeling about it.
He knew his own capabilities. Taking thirty minutes to carve runes was normal—after all, it wasn't just a matter of etching symbols. Each wand required adjustments based on the grain and material of the wood.
That meant the placement of every rune was unique.
Only veteran wandmakers like his grandfather, Garrick Ollivander—who knew both the runes and every type of wand wood intimately—could reduce that time to under fifteen minutes.
But yesterday, while thinking during History of Magic, Harold had absentmindedly carved a wand from yew. It was only then he realized he hadn't even looked for the correct placements—they'd just… come to him.
As if he'd always known where each rune belonged.
And every wand he made recently was flawless. If there were any failures, they came from the Dementor cores, not the craftsmanship.
Was that a good thing?
But the improvement felt too drastic. Harold needed to understand it.
"You're starting to sound like Hermione," Ron muttered, clearly unimpressed.
Hermione was the same—top marks in every exam, yet constantly worried she'd made a mistake.
Now Harold was doing it too. "Practice makes perfect," right? What was the big deal?
Ron turned to Harry."Hey, weird—why are you wearing your hat?" he asked, eyeing the pointed wizard cap on Harry's head. "Didn't you say it makes you look silly?"
"Yeah, I still think it does," said Harry. "But it's colder this year. I woke up this morning and my scalp felt freezing—this helps keep it warm."
"Huh." Ron scratched his head. "Now that you mention it… kinda feels cold to me too."
He promptly put on his own hat.
And yes—it really did look silly.
After breakfast, the group headed down to the Entrance Hall.
It was the last weekend before Christmas, and that meant another Hogsmeade visit. Everyone was excited—except Harry… and Sirius.
"I'm going to Hogsmeade. You're not allowed to enter the castle or go looking for Peter Pettigrew," Harold told him sternly. "Tom will be keeping watch. If he sees you near the school, the deal's off—no wand for you."
"Alright, alright, you're so naggy," Sirius grumbled. "I'm not going after that filthy rat."
But the grin that kept flickering across his face made it hard for Harold to believe him.
"You look pretty happy," Harold noted.
"I am," Sirius said. "I've noticed Harry tends to wander outside when he's feeling down. When that happens… I can be near him. Just us. That makes me happy."
That… actually made sense.
"Just don't blow your cover," Harold warned. "He still thinks you're his enemy."
Sirius's mood instantly deflated. He shot Harold a glare.
"Thanks for the reminder. But believe me—I don't need it."
"I'll try to remember that next time," Harold said with a smirk, then turned and joined the line of students heading for Hogsmeade.
As they passed through the school gates, they once again encountered Dementors—five of them this time, even more than last time.
And besides the Dementors, there were two wizards stationed nearby—likely Aurors or Hit Wizards. Either way, they were clearly sent by the Ministry.
It looked like the Ministry had made some changes after what happened last time.
Harold followed the group into Hogsmeade, a little disappointed.
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"We can do all our Christmas shopping here!" said Hermione cheerfully. "Mum and Dad love those Featherlight Peppermints from Honeydukes."
Those were airy, floss-like sweets that acted like dental floss while you ate them. The only candy that was actually good for your teeth.
And Hermione's dad was a dentist—naturally, he'd be interested.
"Let's get moving then!" Ron said. "Before Honeydukes gets cleaned out!"
Honeydukes was always the most popular shop on Hogsmeade weekends. Every student there wanted to carry the whole store back to Hogwarts.
"You guys go ahead," said Harold. "I'll catch up. I need to stop by the Owl Post Office and schedule my holiday deliveries."
Since Harold wouldn't be at Hogwarts for Christmas this year, he couldn't use the school owls to send gifts. He'd have to go through the post office instead.
Thankfully, it was quite convenient. The Owl Post had a dedicated Christmas delivery service—sort of a holiday tradition. The rate was cheaper than sending individual parcels: just one Knut per gift.
Harold planned to send dozens of presents. According to the clerk, all he had to do was prepare the gifts and addresses, leave them in his dorm, and the owls would come fetch them when the time came.