At the Grafton Manor, Penelope sat at her desk in a robe, one hand adjusting the gold-rimmed glasses perched on her nose, the other scribbling signatures and notes across stacks of paper. Every Christmas Eve, she'd set aside all work to spend time with her nephew, Lucien. Having never married or had children of her own, Penelope had raised Lucien, the orphaned boy, as if he were her own son. But a recent letter from him mentioned he might not come home for the holidays this year. So, after a quiet Christmas Eve, she dove back into her work.
Lately, she'd been swamped, especially since Lucien started at Hogwarts. Beyond the usual family affairs, a storm was brewing in Eastern Europe, one that could shift the global landscape. Lucien had casually mentioned it in their chats and letters, and while Penelope hadn't paid much attention at first, the situation's magnitude was now impossible to ignore.
"That giant is really going to collapse…" she murmured.
"Hoo-hoo!"
A plain-looking, gray-brown owl swooped into the room with a soft hoot. Penelope, used to these deliveries, reached for the drawer where she kept treats for the owl post. But this owl didn't dive for the snacks. It perched on the desk, tilting its head to stare at her.
Seeing no letter or package, Penelope raised an eyebrow. "You're not just a regular owl, are you?" She was so accustomed to magical owls carrying Lucien's letters that she assumed this was one of them. But was she wrong? Peering closer, she noticed the owl's eyes—a rare inky green, just like Lucien's since he'd awakened his magic.
Intrigued, Penelope half-joked, "Wonder how Lucien's doing at that magic school of his. My little treasure's all grown up, not even coming home for Christmas." She sighed. "He's eleven now. In a couple of years, we'll need to start looking for a fiancée for him. The Grafton family…"
The owl suddenly turned its head—180 degrees, thanks to its species' quirks.
Should I change back? Lucien thought. He'd had his Qilin, Luster , Apparate him home overnight to surprise his aunt. But now he was overhearing this? And "little treasure"? She hadn't called him that since he was six!
Penelope was musing about potential matches for her nephew when the owl leaped off the desk, transforming mid-air.
"Lucien!" she gasped, her pen clattering onto the carpet. There he was—her nephew, with his familiar, handsome face and striking green eyes. His dark golden hair, once ear-length, now fell past his chin.
Lucien opened his mouth to wish her a Merry Christmas, but before he could, Penelope pulled him into a tight hug. A second later, he mumbled, "Auntie, I'm eleven, not six anymore."
She let go, pinching his cheek with a warm smile. "Six years old, you were my little treasure. Now at eleven, should I call you my big treasure?"
Lucien flushed, scratching his head. "Whatever makes you happy, Auntie."
"Merry Christmas, Lucien."
"Merry Christmas, Auntie."
They moved to the tearoom, where the maid, Rosia, had set out light pastries and tea. Rosia was curious about when Master Lucien had arrived but knew better than to ask.
"Merry Christmas, Rosia," Lucien said.
"Merry Christmas, Master Lucien," she replied with a smile.
Lucien pulled a tube of lipstick from his pocket—a magical version he'd crafted with potion techniques. Safe, edible, long-lasting, and usable by Muggles without magic. Rosia took it, glancing at the vibrant shade through the translucent case. It was bold, not ideal for work, but she was thrilled—Master Lucien always gave thoughtful gifts for holidays. She could use it on her days off with friends. Then, to her surprise, the lipstick's color shifted to her favorite shade.
Noticing her expression, Lucien grinned. "What? Like this color better?"
Rosia blushed, embarrassed that her reaction suggested she didn't like the original shade. But she wasn't scared—Lucien wasn't the type to nitpick over something so small. She barely registered the color change, assuming it was some fancy rich-person gadget.
Lucien waved her off kindly, and once she left, Penelope leaned in, curious. "That color-changing lipstick—is that magic too? And turning from an owl to a person, like Professor McGonagall did when she visited? Is all magic this amazing?"
Lucien nodded. "The lipstick's a potion-based creation. Potions are a huge field in the wizarding world. And turning into an animal? That's Transfiguration, a specific kind of magic…"
Penelope listened, fascinated, as Lucien explained these magical concepts. The Statute of Secrecy didn't apply to guardians like her—they needed to know where their kids were studying and what they were learning. For a household like the Graftons, with plenty of staff, the rules were a bit looser. As long as magic wasn't directly revealed to non-guardians, it was fine. That's why Lucien gave Rosia the magical lipstick, trusting Penelope would handle any follow-up with her. Besides, modern Muggles were adaptable—Rosia would probably assume the lipstick was high-tech, not something out of a fairy tale.
After chatting about Hogwarts life, Lucien started pulling out gift boxes—magical Christmas presents for his aunt. As Penelope unwrapped them with a smile, Lucien played the dutiful explainer. "Auntie, when you're swamped with work, brew a cup of this—it's a pick-me-up to boost your energy. Trouble sleeping? Pop one of these in your mouth. This one's for whitening and brightening—though you probably don't need it. And this…"
"Don't worry," he added, "these are all safe for non-magical people to use."
As Penelope opened another gift, she suddenly tapped her forehead, frowning. "Oh no, I didn't know you'd be back, so I had your Christmas gift sent to Hogwarts."
"No worries, Auntie. I'll see it when I get back tomorrow." Lucien grinned. "Can you give me a hint about this surprise?"
Penelope continued unwrapping gifts, her tone light. "It's a contract. You love books, don't you? So, I built you a library."