"Are you serious, Edward? You took down eight students all by yourself? And they were all upperclassmen?" William set down his wine glass, barely containing his laughter, tears welling up in his eyes.
He knew it—Anne's worries about Edward were clearly a bit overprotective.
Eight—eight of them! And you're telling me this is the level of an eleven-year-old?
His son's martial prowess was, frankly, a little too impressive.
"Can't you focus on the important stuff for once? Our son was bullied!" Anne shot William a sharp glare before turning to Edward with concern. "That Malfoy kid, and Greengrass—they didn't do anything to you, did they?"
"You weren't coerced or anything, right?"
"If they did, I'll make sure they regret it!" Anne's emotions were so intense that the metal fork in her hand seemed to bend, nodding downward as if bowing to her will.
"Don't worry, Mom. Apart from Flint and some of the team, everyone's been pretty friendly," Edward quickly reassured her.
"Draco and I had a bit of a misunderstanding at first, but we sorted it out. If the Malfoy family hadn't filled his head with all those messed-up ideas, he'd actually be a decent guy."
"As for Daphne," Edward speared a piece of pudding with his fork, "the Greengrass family isn't as bad as I thought at first."
"Though, I didn't expect her to eat that much."
"They're not exactly fans of Muggle-born wizards, especially Draco, but I've been setting them straight one by one."
"Good, good," Anne said, visibly relieved.
Both William and Anne let out sighs of relief, their faces breaking into warm, proud smiles.
Their biggest fear was that Edward would fall in with the wrong crowd at school or get picked on by older students, especially in a place like Slytherin.
But now, it was clear their worries were unfounded.
Not only was Edward holding his own, but he was also going out of his way to help his classmates—even those from pure-blood supremacist families.
When William was at Hogwarts, he'd had similar ideals, but being in Gryffindor, he rarely had the chance to act on them.
As for Anne, though she was a Slytherin herself, she was definitely not that kind of Slytherin.
Help those pure-blood fanatics? She'd rather send them to meet Merlin and Morgana in person.
Besides, when it came to pure-blood lineage, who could possibly outdo her?
Anne had no patience for those who constantly bragged about their pure-blood status but lacked any real talent or vision.
"Oh, by the way, Dad, Mom, I forgot to mention—do you know about the Mirror of Erised?" Edward asked.
He briefly recounted his experience with the mirror.
William looked completely clueless—he'd never seen the mirror during his time at Hogwarts.
Anne hadn't either, but when Edward mentioned the sound of armor and hoofbeats around the church, her brow furrowed slightly.
"What's wrong, Mom? Do you know something?" Edward swallowed his food quickly and pressed her for answers.
"Ed, I've never seen that mirror, so I don't know why it drew you in. It might have something to do with your father's or my bloodline," Anne said, pausing as if choosing her words carefully. "But the armor and hoofbeats—I might have an idea."
"It could be… the Wild Hunt."
For the first time, Edward saw a grave expression on his mother's face.
"The Wild Hunt? Darling, what's that?" William's confusion deepened.
"Sometimes I wish you'd spend more time working with bookstores instead of endorsing those ridiculous products!" Anne snapped, exasperated.
Then she explained, "The Wild Hunt is a strange phenomenon. I read about it in Wizarding Myths and Legends."
"It's a ghostly procession that races across the night sky. No one knows where they're headed."
"But everyone who's claimed to have seen it describes the sound of hoofbeats and clanking armor, like a cavalry passing by." Anne's voice instinctively dropped lower.
"If Dumbledore's right and that place is some kind of liminal realm, anything could happen. Maybe the Wild Hunt is one of its mysteries."
"As for why you saw Glastonbury Abbey, that might actually be tied to our bloodline. After all, you're a descendant of the Knights of the Round Table."
Edward listened to his mother's theory, deep in thought.
The Wild Hunt? Another new term.
Even for someone as well-read as Edward among his peers, this was unfamiliar territory.
He opened his mouth to ask more, but William and Anne cut him off with a wave of their hands.
"Ed, whatever that thing is, promise us you'll stay away from that mirror, okay?"
Edward didn't need any protective spells to feel the love and guilt woven into his parents' words. They didn't want their only son to put himself in danger, especially if it was tied to their own bloodline.
"Of course, Dad, Mom," he replied softly.
That night, lying in his cozy bedroom, Edward had a dream.
In it, he was part of the Wild Hunt, clad in armor, gripping a lance, riding a spectral warhorse, galloping through endless mists, chasing… something.
But what was he chasing?
When he woke up, he couldn't remember a thing.
Christmas morning always arrived late—not just because the sun rose later, but because everyone slipped into the lazy haze of the holidays.
After learning Edward had been waking up at six every morning, Anne cast a spell on his room: if he didn't sleep for at least nine hours, the door wouldn't open.
Edward tried every trick in the book—Alohomora and other spells—to get out for a quick morning workout to push his breathing technique from Tier 2 to Tier 3.
But, alas, short of blowing the door off its hinges, he was stuck.
Luckily, thanks to that vivid dream, Edward woke up to find it was already 8:30 a.m.
Outside, snow fell heavily, painting the world in shimmering silver.
At the foot of his bed, in a cozy blue nest, his fluffy Puffskein was still fast asleep. Edward had been taking good care of it lately, keeping it by his side.
"Young Master Edward, breakfast is ready!" came a high-pitched voice from outside the door. It was Serlin, a polite house-elf skilled in all sorts of domestic magic.
"You've received quite a few gifts, and I've sorted them for you!"
"Thanks! I'll be right down!" Edward called back.
He threw on his clothes at lightning speed and raced downstairs to the grand hall, where a towering Christmas tree stood.
It had been set up the night before, adorned with twinkling golden Snitches, candy cane wands, and ribbons of holly and mistletoe.
Beneath the tree was a pile of colorful, beautifully wrapped Christmas gifts.
William and Anne, already dressed and ready, were waiting there, sorting their own presents with their wands.
"Merry Christmas, Dad, Mom!" Edward called out.
His smile, lit by the glow of the fire, was absolutely radiant.
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