When Harry left Douglas Holmes's office, he didn't take any of the rewards with him—not even the Firebolt. He wanted to keep it as a secret weapon for next term's Quidditch matches.
So when he finally appeared in the Great Hall, the club members waiting for him saw his empty hands and their faces fell in disappointment.
Most still came over to clap him on the shoulder, offering words of comfort.
"It's all right if there aren't any prizes. We didn't exactly finish the task perfectly, after all."
"But it's not like we got nothing—the Daily Prophet ran a little piece about our Charon Detective Society, even if they made it sound like we only succeeded with help from the Aurors."
"Don't be upset, Harry. We've still got those generous Galleons from Mr. Malfoy."
"Harry, did you have hotpot? Was it the spicy kind?"
Harry, who'd been trying to keep up a somber act a bit longer, couldn't help but break into a grin at that last question. He quickly changed the subject.
"Don't worry—none of the rewards are missing! Tomorrow at ten, we'll have an official awards ceremony in the Charon Detective Society room. And you'll never guess who I've invited!"
George and Fred called out from the crowd, "Merlin's beard—you didn't invite Professor Holmes, did you?"
"Don't tell us we have to recite a textbook before we get our prizes!"
Harry cleared his throat and announced, voice ringing out, "The guest of honor at tomorrow's ceremony is none other than the target of our whole project—my godfather, Mr. Sirius Black! And Professor Lupin will be there too!"
The Great Hall instantly burst into a storm of chatter.
"Who did he say?"
"His godfather, Sirius Black?"
"The guy who was wrongly imprisoned for twelve years?"
"Don't forget, he's not a fugitive anymore."
"Still, anyone who escaped Azkaban and dodged the Ministry for so long must be seriously impressive."
"So, are we going to watch tomorrow or not?"
As the noise swelled, Hermione climbed onto a bench, cast a Sonorus Charm on herself, and declared loudly,
"I'm making this official: tomorrow at ten in the morning, the Charon Detective Society awards ceremony will be held in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom!
This event is for current Charon Detective Society members only, and you'll all get the chance to meet and talk with Mr. Black. Remember, this is his first public appearance since clearing his name!"
Hermione's announcement drew a wave of grumbling and complaints from the other students.
"The Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom belongs to everyone! Why can't we go?"
"Let us see what rewards Professor Holmes gave you!"
"Hmph, I wouldn't bother with a kids' club anyway. I'll just earn a dragon pearl from the Professor with my exam scores."
The Charon Detective Society members glanced worriedly at Hermione. She waved her hand grandly, but the crowd didn't quiet as she'd hoped, leaving her a bit embarrassed. Some of the prefects watched her performance like it was a show.
Hermione, undeterred, recast the Sonorus Charm and declared,
"Even if you can't join this Charon Detective Society event, it doesn't mean you'll never have a chance. After Christmas, we'll be recruiting again, and there'll be all sorts of activities and rewards in the future!"
Her words drew secret thumbs-ups from the club members. Soon, the prefects teamed up to quell the commotion.
In the days that followed, Hogwarts returned to its usual pre-Christmas bustle. While decorating the Great Hall, a few older students even suggested using Transfiguration to conjure fake Dementors and have them float over the tables.
Their plan was to chase the faux Dementors around with their Patronus Charms as a spectacle for everyone. But since their Patronuses were "special editions" customized by Douglas—complete with his own magical tweaks—the entire Hogwarts ghost population protested in unison, and the idea was scrapped, to everyone's disappointment.
The so-called "Tower" on the castle grounds—erected for Peeves's release—had yet to be removed by Douglas. The students wanted to decorate it as a giant Christmas tree, but Douglas vetoed that. Instead, he personally hung rows of red lanterns from the tower's beams, bathing the whole castle in a warm crimson glow each night.
Before anyone knew it, Christmas Day had arrived.
Early that morning, students woke to the joyful chaos of unwrapping parcels.
Harry eyed his own small pile of presents, trying to guess who had sent what.
Suddenly, Ron let out a yelp, "Harry! Look at this—isn't it just like yours? Bill sent it!"
Harry turned to see Ron holding a protective charm almost identical to his own—same craftsmanship as his cousin's work, except this one had Ron's name engraved on it.
After reading Bill's note, Ron beamed, "Bill said he got this from Professor Holmes, and it works the same as yours. He told me to wear it all the time, never take it off. By the way, what did the Professor get you for Christmas?"
Harry pulled a face and took out a thick packet labeled "Extracurricular Interest Test Papers."
Ron frowned, "What subject is this for? Some kind of practice exam?"
Harry shook his head, "It's exactly what it says—none of the questions are from the textbooks. There's a bunch of odd magical trivia, and loads of Muggle world stuff too."
Ron shot Harry a look of pure sympathy. "I bet Hermione would love a gift like that."
Harry sighed, "I'm starting to wonder if my cousin mixed up the presents."
Then Ron spotted a small box at the bottom of his gift pile. When he opened it, a tiny owl inside perked up at the sight of him, suddenly wide awake and flitting around his head in excitement.
Harry laughed, "It's like a furry Snitch! Even if it really is just an owl."
Ron found some shredded scraps of parchment at the bottom of the box. After piecing them together, he managed to read:
[Sorry about losing your rat. Here's a new pet for you—Little Pig. Hope you like him. —Sirius]
Ron's face lit up, "Harry, this is the new pet Sirius promised me! I thought he was joking that day."
During the last Charon Detective Society event, Sirius had mentioned the idea to Ron—and later asked Harry what kind of pet Ron might like. Harry had told him Ron was always complaining about the family's ancient owl, but he'd never imagined Sirius would find such a tiny one. The little owl didn't even look heavy enough to carry a thick letter.
"So, Ron, what are you going to name him?"
Ron played with the tiny owl, shaking his head, "No idea yet—it's all a bit sudden. By the way, what did Sirius give you? I just saw the Professor gave me a box of Fizzing Whizzbees. That's brilliant—I was scared to open it at first, worried it'd be more test papers like yours!"
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