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After all four classes finished their tests, the Christmas holiday arrived.
Anthony spent an afternoon tallying the test results and filling them into the report he'd prepared beforehand—he'd believed his students would deliver impressive answers even before the test, and they hadn't let him down.
Most students had gone home. The castle stood empty. Peeves drifted forlornly through the corridors, hoping to catch a victim. When Anthony passed by, Peeves's eyes lit up. He tried to splash ink onto the report in Anthony's hands.
SPLAT. His outstretched arm bent at an odd angle and somehow splashed himself in the face instead. Peeves shrieked and vanished.
Anthony looked in his direction, somewhat apologetic.
He'd acted on impulse. Seemed Peeves really was closer to a wraith after all.
Anthony took a deep breath and reluctantly knocked on Professor McGonagall's office door. He hoped she'd forgive the interruption. He didn't want to talk work with her on Christmas Eve either.
"Ah, Henry." Professor McGonagall opened the door. She looked exhausted. "What is it?"
"I'm here to apply for activity approval and teaching funds, Minerva." Anthony handed her a thick stack of documents. "I want to take students into the Muggle world for a day at the end of this term."
Professor McGonagall asked disapprovingly, "For a day?"
"The students have basically mastered the theory," Anthony said. "Before they went home, all four classes took a comprehensive test. Pass rates all above ninety percent. I have confidence in them. Their grasp of the second half should be similar."
Professor McGonagall took the report and flipped through it. Her brow relaxed slightly. "You've prepared thoroughly, haven't you? How many people, and where are you taking them?"
Anthony shook his head. "That's not confirmed yet. I'm planning to list several options and let students sign up themselves."
Last time students chose Muggle cooking practice themselves, it was a huge success. Anthony felt giving students some autonomy wasn't a bad thing. When his teaching goal was promoting wizard understanding of Muggles, student interest was especially important.
Professor McGonagall flipped through his proposal. "Zoo, botanical garden, chocolate factory... pet rescue shelter?"
He explained, "I've noticed many students don't have pets. Mildred told me she wants a cat, Stebbins wants a dog—"
Professor McGonagall said almost immediately, "Dogs are not among the pets Hogwarts allows."
"—the Weasley twins want an owl. I know pet shelters generally don't have owls either," Anthony said. "But anyway, I want to tell students that in this world, Muggles are actually the vast majority. They control many resources, including many pets. If some problems can't be solved in the magical world, considering the Muggle world is also a good option."
Professor McGonagall skimmed a few more pages of the proposal and nodded. "Tomorrow, day after at the latest, I'll notify you of the result."
"You don't need to look at it right now. Tonight's Christmas Eve, Minerva." Anthony said, surprised. "I'm just leaving it here. Wasn't expecting you to handle it immediately. It's still holiday. I'm planning to go home the day after tomorrow."
He hadn't been back to his neighborhood in a long time. Even after living at Hogwarts so long, he still missed the steady lighting in his room, the simple bathtub in his bathroom, and the kitchen where dozens or hundreds of tennis-ball eyes wouldn't stare at him.
"Then I'll give you an answer tomorrow," Professor McGonagall said. "Don't forget the Christmas feast."
When he woke up in the morning, a small pile of presents already sat at the foot of his bed.
A Transfiguration notebook—from Professor McGonagall, who knew he'd been struggling in that area—with a proper Christmas card tucked inside.
Professor Flitwick had sent him a Honeydukes gift card. Professor Sprout's gift was a small jar of herbal tea. Professor Burbage had simply sent a Christmas card, telling him the gift was still on its way and to be patient a few more days.
There was also an extremely valuable Dark Arts book, not even in the library collection. This expensive gift from Professor Quirrell made Anthony decide to visit Diagon Alley immediately—he needed to get a return gift.
Dumbledore had sent him two pairs of socks.
"Very warm. Merry Christmas," the card said in looping handwriting.
What surprised him most was Neville's gift.
Neville had sent a very light package. Unwrapped, it was a set of midnight blue robes. Light as a cloud, smooth as water, seemingly woven from a single piece of cloth without a single seam. The envelope holding the Christmas card used wax seal and scented paper very formally. Wine-red ink on the card wrote a long string of blessings and thanks in neat, beautiful handwriting.
Anthony put the robes in his wardrobe and struggled to think of an appropriate return gift. He guessed this was probably the work of that Mrs. Longbottom again.
Almost everyone spent the morning unwrapping presents and scrambling to get return gifts of equivalent value. The whole castle brimmed with cheerful atmosphere. Golden ribbons hung from ceiling to floor. Holly and mistletoe everywhere. Owls flew trip after trip.
The students staying at school all came out. The Weasley twins wore obviously hand-knitted sweaters, singing "Happy Twins Love Their Teeth" in the corridors while handing out boxes of toffee to everyone.
Their classmates warned everyone not to fall for it, but a younger Ravenclaw—purely curious what would happen—took a piece and popped it in his mouth. Nothing happened.
"When you're afraid we'll prank you—" Fred said solemnly.
"You miss out on candy," George said.
Even with the school more than half empty, the Hogwarts house-elves still went all out, preparing an unusually lavish lunch and dinner. Long tables overflowed with turkey and Christmas pudding. Roasting pans held mountains of roast meat and potatoes. Golden trays held drinks, silver ones held desserts.
Anthony remembered his grandmother's saying: "A feast means no green vegetables."
He'd just sat down at the staff table when Professor Burbage handed him a wizard cracker. Anthony pulled hard. In a puff of smoke, he got a purple satin top hat decorated with silver stars and moons.
"Just like a magician's hat," Anthony said, reaching into the hat and trying to pull out a rabbit.
Professor Burbage laughed and placed the hat on his head. "Suits you perfectly."
Her smile told Anthony she was lying.
But what did it matter? Dumbledore wore a flowered bonnet. Professor Flitwick had pinned a stuffed Puffskein to his shoulder. Even Filch had put a sweater on Mrs. Norris—the red and green Christmas sweater hung loosely on the skeletal cat, utterly ridiculous. Mrs. Norris glared miserably at students pointing at her.
"Merry Christmas, Henry!" Professor McGonagall said. She wore a black top hat. "Your activity funds are approved. And I love the planner you sent. Very practical."
Anthony had carefully selected planners during undergrad—table design, paper quality, thickness and size. Later when studying at the Leaky Cauldron, he'd bought several more. For Christmas he'd sent one to the busy Hogwarts Deputy Headmistress.
"Excellent. And thanks for the notebook. I was stuck," Anthony said, directing his knife to carve some roast turkey. "Though I'm never not stuck."
Professor Flitwick joked, "Your Transfiguration might be a narrow-necked bottle, Professor Anthony. But your Charms are definitely a jar."
Dumbledore asked slyly, "And what am I, Filius?"
"You're a basin," Professor Flitwick said.
Dumbledore cheerfully accepted the compliment.
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