"Why a broomstick?"
Harry walked over with a smile, bumped fists with the outstretched arm of Ron, "But Ginny's resentment is really starting to take shape. How are you doing?"
"Endless reports."
Ron exaggeratedly rolled his eyes and stood up a stack of documents on the table, "Another great regulation from our Chief Granger, 'All field actions involving conflict must include a complete recording and post-action report.' Merlin above, I feel like my rear end is going to be worn out."
"She just wants to make the process more standardized—"
Harry had just picked up his cup when the water dispenser voluntarily moved over to fill it, "As it turns out, Hermione's regulations are often right, these procedures indeed reduce a lot of arguments. Some guys only behave themselves when faced with law enforcement cameras."
Saying this, Harry flicked the little lens on his chest.
"Yes, yes, I know—just tough on my rear."
Ron continued to verbalize his complaints but quickly packed his gear, magic wand, backup wand, emergency magic potion kit, law enforcement camera... and a Glock G17 handgun with Disarming Spell edition, just recently polished and checked for ammunition.
Scotland Yard's "merch."
Yes, under the suggestion of the honorary safety consultant at the Auror Office—Mr. William Richard, "wand in the left hand, gun in the right" has become the standard setup for Aurors.
Most of the initially resistant veteran Aurors expressed that this thing is much more useful than wand after a few practices and inquired whether they could simply not use the wand anymore—
No point in keeping feudal dregs around.
The two sorted out their gear, chatting idly as they exited the lounge, passing through a hallway slightly empty due to the festivities, and arrived at the public fireplace area.
After a simple registration, the two emerged from the fireplace in the storage room at the back of Honeydukes.
The air was filled with the rich and overwhelming smell of chocolate frosting, nearly suffocating, "Honestly, I've considered opening a dental clinic across the street." Ron carefully avoided a large vat filled with fluorescent blue syrup, muttering.
Judging from his grimacing expression, he seemed to have some toothache.
Expertly navigating through the heaps of cargo boxes, they pushed the door open, stepping into the back hallway of Honeydukes shop.
From the front of the shop came the excited screams of children, the laughter of adults, and the dinging of the cash register, with the atmosphere's dense holiday sweet fragrance hitting their faces. Through the colorful stained-glass windows on the corridor, the shimmering magical lights and bustling crowd on the street were visible.
The two didn't intend to linger in the shop, and soon sneaked out through a side door into a relatively quiet alleyway. They looked overhead, then with a flick of the wands, the air distorted and issued a crisp whiplashing sound.
In the next instant, Harry and Ron's figures were already standing firmly on the snow-laden rooftop, the cold wind immediately howling to penetrate their collars, but the specially made cloaks well resisted the chill, offering a view overlooking the entirety of Hogsmeade's central square and several key streets around it.
The buildings on the main commercial street were not exceptionally tall, with only two or three levels added on, their height not even exceeding the giant Christmas tree at the center of the square.
The green fir tree was adorned with multicolored decorations, with tiny elves flitting between the branches, occasionally flapping their wings, attracting a large group of children by the "magic show" ongoing at the entrance of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. The snowflakes floating in the air would automatically assemble into various comical shapes.
The Three Broomsticks Inn was similarly aglow, its windows misted over with warm vapor, happy music and laughter constantly spilling out from inside.
Everything seemed fine.
Ron kicked away the snow beneath him, bent his legs, and sat right down. He then pulled out a thermos from his bosom, twisted it open, and took a sip, breathing out contentedly, "Honestly, I've always enjoyed this perspective, it feels like being a nocturnal hero, like Batman—I don't know how I never realized Muggle comics are so fascinating."
"Seems like you still haven't written enough reports."
Harry stood by his side without sitting down, his gaze sweeping over the crowd below and the shadows of the buildings, "Don't let your guard down casually." He said in a low voice, "Remember? Festivals, crowds, moments of distraction—breeding grounds for crimes and assaults."
"Yeah, yeah, jinxer."
Ron shook the thermos in his hand, "Want some? It's tea brewed by my mom, I only added a bit of 'Awakening Potion,' the dosage is legal."
Harry was about to shake his head when another voice came from behind them.
"Hey, isn't this the big star duo? Why are you hiding here blowing cold air?"
The voice carried a familiar energy, both of them turned their heads in unison. Behind them, the air distorted, revealing two figures.
Leading them was a witch, tall and slender, with her hands in her pockets, wearing her Auror uniform both casually and tidily. The most eye-catching feature was her striking, short rainbow-hued hair reflecting the magical lights. Nymphadora Tonks gestured "just a moment" to her partner beside her and walked over with a smile.
The wizard next to her was much more silent, his face serious, looking like a rock. He merely nodded to Harry and Ron as a greeting, then turned his gaze far away.
"Tonks."
Ron grinned, pointing to her hair, "Honestly, isn't that a bit too conspicuous at night? I feel like you're even more eye-catching than that tree."