1981, Winter.
Translucent icicles clung to the wrought iron sign of the secondhand cauldron shop, with fingernail-sized ice crystals hanging from the bends. The chimney of the bakery was still billowing white mist, and the air was filled with the sweet aroma of gingerbread. Deep red ribbons were tied to the holly branches, bowed by the weight of the snow. When the wind blew, the satin brushed against the frosted glass windows, leaving faint traces.
The sky gradually darkened, the street lights lightly covered in snow, casting a faint blue glow. In the village pathways, every five steps or so, a Golden Hourglass was suspended—
These were newly added protective Sneakoscopes, though at the moment, they were quiet as frozen quails.
The owner of Lisa's Grocery Store lifted the felt curtain to look outside for the third time, and the wind chimes under the eaves suddenly shook out a broken melody, startling him enough to spill half a mug of Butter Beer. The brown beer foam etched several charred holes in the untouched snow at the door.
In the window of Honeydukes, this year's new product was displayed, a candy Christmas tree. The mist on the inside of the glass slowly formed frost flowers, and for a moment, it seemed there was a fleeting mark of a skull entwined with a snake, disappearing in an instant.
Inside the warm shop, a round-faced witch wearing wool gloves hastily put away her wallet, the scattered Sickles and Knuts jingling within.
"Merry Christmas, ma'am."
The cashier at Honeydukes bent down to pick up the goods that had fallen to the ground and said with a smile.
"But there's more than a month until Christmas—"
"But I'm taking a vacation in a couple of days. I'm planning to go abroad, though it's still in the planning stages—Paris? Or Marseille? Whatever, anywhere will do. I've been stuck here ever since I graduated—"
The cashier said somewhat excitedly, continually wiping the already spotless counter, as if doing so would help her finish work faster today.
Hearing that, the round-faced witch smiled, nodded, and said softly, "Then, Merry Christmas, and have a pleasant trip."
"Thank you—"
The wooden door opened and closed, and the cold air sliced across the face like a blade, causing passersby to instinctively hunch their shoulders.
In the center of the village, the Magic Fountain had long since frozen into an ice spring. The snowmen left by a few children maintained the pose of wielding a wand, though their heads had long since tilted to the ground. As the last rays of twilight swept across the blue-green wind vane atop Olivander's Wand Shop, the witch pushed open the door to her home. A sneakoscope shaped like an hourglass hung quietly at the door, and the warm fire leaped in the fireplace—
Suddenly, the flames were dyed with a layer of green, and the next moment, a blond man wearing a robe stepped out of the fire.
"Things don't look too good, do they?"
The round-faced witch noticed the cloud hanging between the man's brows. She set down her paper bag and touched it lightly with her magic wand, causing the man's robe to fly on its own to the coat rack.
"Yeah, the interrogation is progressing slowly. Veritaserum is not allowed to be used, but most of these bastards won't shed tears until they see the coffin..."
The man nodded, then turned to push a vase on the fireplace mantle further in, before walking to the witch's side to gently kiss her lips. "But You-Know-Who is already dead. Just give it some time, no matter how much they struggle, Azkaban will still be their final destination. But enough of that, Alice, how was home today? Was the little one behaving?"
"Pretty good, just like his father, like a quail—"
Alice Longbottom laughed and gently caressed the man's brow, "I feel..."
"Shh—"
Frank Longbottom had obviously guessed what his wife wanted to say and pressed a finger to her lips. "Just give it some more time, Alice. Since the little one was born, you haven't really had a good rest—not really. Now, peace has finally come. Since you applied for a vacation, have a rest for a while—stop thinking about Auror work.
"Besides, Neville can't be without his mother's company." the man paused and then added.
"But he can't be without his father either!"
"Alice—"
"Alright, I know—"
Alice squinted her eyes and smiled, broke free from the man's embrace, and gently gathered her red hair at the back, tying it into a ponytail. "Go see Neville; he hasn't seen his dad all day and might have already forgotten about you—"
"Impossible, my son's memory must be great—" Frank stretched lazily and slowly walked towards the back of the house.
...
"Twinkle, twinkle, little star, How I wonder what you ar..."
Inside Honeydukes, a young woman softly hummed the familiar tune. Leaning on the counter, her gaze unfocused as she stared at the snowy scene outside.
The warm fireplace heated the small room, and sleepiness began to spread in the cozy air. The woman yawned and unknowingly closed her eyes...
The night completely enveloped the village, and the pale yellow light barely lit the pathways between the houses.
At the end of the alley, spider webs covered in frost hung under the porch of an abandoned house. The tune of "Silent Night" intermittently played from a music box, snagging at a high note, making the world fall silent. No one knew how much time had passed before the first snowflake fell again, causing the hemlock branches in the pine forest outside town to suddenly snap. A shadow cloaked in black flitted across the snowfield, tearing apart the half-ring of a distant church bell.
"Dong—"
The sound of the wind chime woke the woman from the romance of Paris, causing her to sit up with a start, a smile on her face— But the next moment, upon seeing the guests before her, that nervous smile froze instantly, and her previously drowsy eyes widened unconsciously—
"Ha, looks like she knows who we are—"
Rabastan Lestrange looked at the woman, unable to help the corners of his mouth turning up, "Oh, we really are famous."
"You just found out on your first day?"
Rabastan Lestrange frowned and pushed his brother aside, his short and stocky frame standing in front of the counter. "Tell me, where is the home of the Longbottoms?"
The young witch opened her mouth, but she couldn't utter a complete sentence. Fear gripped her, rendering her immobile. She could only stare at the three people in front of her, her light freckles knotted together.
"She doesn't want to speak, I can see that—"
A woman in black robes stepped out from behind Rabastan, seemingly chewing on something. She crossed her arms and leaned on the counter. "Oh, poor little darling, are you waiting for someone to rescue you? Aurors from the Ministry of Magic? Or the so-called 'Savior'? Too bad, he's probably wetting his pants somewhere."
"..."
The woman didn't reply; her teeth chattered incessantly. She wanted to control her body to move back, but she couldn't even move a finger.
"Alright, let's try another way. Crucio!"
Bellatrix flicked her magic wand without warning. The young woman had nowhere to hide, and her face turned purple in an instant. Moans squeezed out from her throat.
"What? What did you say?"
Bella smiled as she crouched on the ground, lifting the limp woman up and putting her ear near the woman's mouth.
"Mm-hmm, alright, I got it, thank you—" Bella nodded with a smile, her dark eyes slightly squinted. "Avada Kedavra."
A flash of green light passed, and the woman, tossing her hair, stood up and smiled at the other three in the store—
"Found it."
...
Meanwhile, the Longbottoms had finished their dinner. The room was enveloped in darkness, with only the fire in the wall's fireplace illuminating it.
The satisfied boy lay in the crib, his round eyes brimming with curiosity.
"...What did you see?"
Alice Longbottom rocked the crib moved to the living room, looking fondly at the boy who gazed back at her. From the corner of her eye, she noticed her husband's furrowed brow.
"The papers keep spreading nonsense. Reporters are claiming that the Dark Lord has other matters to attend to, and someone even suggested he's physically unwell..." Frank Longbottom sighed, speaking helplessly, "There's always someone who thinks they're exceedingly clever and contradicts the public in times like these—"
"What sort of unwellness?"
Alice blinked with curiosity.
"...His monthly cycle."
Frank blurted out, and the two exchanged a glance, then burst into laughter.
"Knock, knock, knock—"
Suddenly, a knock on the door interrupted their laughter.
"...At this hour?"
Frank instinctively stood up, their attention drawn to the rapping at the wooden door, both of them had already drawn their magic wands. They glanced at each other, and then, Frank nodded, tightened his grip on his wand, and slowly approached the door.
Alice also rose, her gaze spanning over Frank's shoulder to the door being knocked on once more.
"Who is it..."
"Crack!"
Without warning, as the couple's attention was focused on the noise from the door, three figures appeared in the room. Accompanied by the sound of air being sucked, they cast spells instantaneously upon the couple— But trained Aurors as they were, Frank and Alice responded swiftly—
"Protego!"
Alice nearly instantly cast a protective spell over herself, her husband, and the child lying in the crib. Simultaneously, Frank efficiently counterattacked, three red disarming spells hitting the three shadows almost simultaneously. Yet, the opponents seemed prepared, the spells losing their efficacy as they touched the Iron Armor spell surrounding them—
Frank wasn't deterred and immediately continued casting spells, entrusting his back to Alice.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Rabastan Lestrange blocked the disarming spell before him, and green light burst from his wand. "How long do you plan to make us wait, Bella?!" He shouted hoarsely, recognizing that the Longbottoms, elite Aurors, with their excellent counterattacks and coordination, were giving them a tough time.
Yet, upon hearing the shout, Frank and Alice instinctively felt a chill in their hearts. They turned their heads—
Sure enough, somehow, a woman in black robes stood beside the crib, reaching out her arms as if bypassing Alice's protective spell, and cradled the exquisitely carved baby boy in her arms—the woman turned around, revealing a wicked smile at the two of them. "You don't want to see the little baby hurt, do you?"
She raised her hand, delicately running her long, sharp nails across the boy's face.