Hogwarts.
Gryffindor dormitory.
Harry and Ron were tearing into their presents with huge grins.
Harry sighed as he unwrapped one, "I can't believe I got so many gifts. Heck, I figured I wouldn't get any at all."
The first one he opened was from Hagrid—a rough-hewn flute.
Harry figured Hagrid had made it himself. He gave it a tentative blow, and it came out sounding just like an owl hoot.
The surprise? A gift from his aunt and uncle...
A single coin.
A fifty-pence piece.
"Eh, it's... friendly enough, I guess."
"Goo-goo—"
At the sound, Ron—busy ripping into a lumpy package—didn't even look up. "Harry, is Hagrid's flute that much fun? Lend it here, let me try?"
"Uh, I didn't even play it."
A second later, wings fluttered into the room.
Harry and Ron watched as an owl swooped in, dropping a gift box in front of each of them.
Then it just picked a random bedpost and perched there, all casual.
Ignoring the now-familiar messenger, Harry and Ron dove into their new packages at the same time.
"It's from Lucien! Mine's a broom repair kit—man, he thought of everything."
Harry ran his fingers over the tools in delight, already eyeing his Nimbus 2000 to give them a test run.
"Huh, mine's a portable, expandable lunchbox?"
Ron kept reading the card. "Lucien made it himself—keeps food warm for ages. Whoa, and the inside space is huge!"
"This means no more stressing about late-night snacks when I'm starving."
Ron stashed the box away with a satisfied grin, then added a touch enviously, "Man, those Hufflepuffs have it made—their common room's right by the kitchens. Sigh, eat whenever you want."
"Harry, you think if I wasn't a Weasley, the Hat would've dumped me in Hufflepuff...?"
(Updating's tough—remember to share 101 Book Site)
He'd only peeled back one corner of that bulky paper package when Ron suddenly cracked a wry smile. "It's from Mum—classic Weasley sweater. Why's mine always this weird purple-red? It's so off."
"Oh yeah, Harry—Mum told me she knitted one for you too. And Lucien, actually. Wonder if he'll like it."
The owl on the bedpost ruffled its feathers.
Not bad—looks pretty good, and it'll keep you toasty.
Mrs. Weasley's handiwork was top-notch, as always.
Lucien, in owl form, twisted his head to eye the sweater in Harry's hands.
Whoa, that's a bright green. Good thing it's not a fuzzy hat.
Harry was over the moon—this was his first brand-new piece of clothing from anyone. Back home, it was always Dudley's hand-me-downs.
He munched on the homemade fudge Mrs. Weasley had tucked in, then popped a Chocolate Frog from Hermione into his mouth.
"Check this out, Ron—what is this?"
Harry's last gift tumbled out—a silvery-gray, liquidy puddle that sloshed onto the floor.
"No way—is that...?"
Ron scooped it up in disbelief and shook it out. "An Invisibility Cloak!"
"Blimey, if someone sent me one, I'd trade it for a feast every meal, no question!"
With Ron egging him on, Harry threw the cloak over his shoulders.
"I really vanished!"
As Harry dashed around, a note fluttered to the floor.
Your father left this with me before he died. It's time it was returned to you. Use it well. Sincerely, Merry Christmas.
Harry stared at the words, frozen. He had no clue who sent it... and it had been his dad's?
The owl's eyes locked onto the cloak draped over Harry.
Tsk, tsk. One of the Deathly Hallows shows up this early.
Legend had it this came straight from Death itself—true, permanent invisibility.
Not like your run-of-the-mill cloak made from Demiguise hair, which fades with use and time. And definitely not some quick Disillusionment Charm.
Alrighty, with this cloak, Harry's officially on track—time to chase down the Sorcerer's Stone.
Lucien narrowed his pupils, tapping into the owl's killer eyesight to zero in on an open Chocolate Frog box.
Better speed things up a bit.
With a flap of his wings, he dove straight for the pile of frogs.
"Merlin's beard—that owl's trying to nick our snacks!"
"Stop it!"
Lucien rolled his eyes inwardly at the two kids' frantic flailing, dodging their grabs with ease.
He batted the frogs around, sending one card drifting right into Harry's path like it was meant to be.
Then, before they could blink, the owl snatched a Chocolate Frog and bolted.
Ron gaped, mouth hanging open. "I've got to tell George and Fred—they'll never buy this..."
Harry, meanwhile, snagged the card on instinct.
His eyes hit the face: Dumbledore.
Scanning down—Dumbledore's famous feats: Defeated the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, discovered the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and with his partner, Nicolas Flamel, in alchemy...
Nicolas Flamel?
"Nicolas Flamel!"
"Yeah, Harry—didn't Hermione make us promise to keep digging on him before she left?"
Ron grabbed a Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean from Hermione's gift and tossed one in his mouth.
He chewed... then spat it out quietly.
"Ow—wait, no! Nicolas Flamel—look at this card!"
"I knew that name rang a bell, but I couldn't place it. It's been staring us in the face!"
Harry shook Ron's shoulder like a maraca, shoving the card in his face.
Ron finally got a good look. "Dumbledore? I've got, like, a dozen of these..."
"Merlin's woolly socks! Nicolas Flamel!"
Ron clutched the card tight, eyes glued to the name like it might vanish.
Then he whipped around to Harry. "That owl's our lucky bird! George told me—if you spot a good-luck animal on Christmas, you gotta honor it, feed it every day, and boom: lifetime of good fortune, full belly, the works!"
"Harry, we have to find that owl!"