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Chapter 58: Christmas Gift (Part 2)
The Momo Mountains were once called the Alps. Wizards renamed them after a clash with the Muggle name. Plenty of wizards still call them the Alps out of habit.
Muggles never see these peaks. They're packed with magical creatures. The Ministry put up heavy wards to keep them safe. To Muggles, the mountains just look like fenced-off wilderness with "Beware of Wild Bears" signs at the base.
"Are we going to run into danger?" Cho asked, voice tight with nerves.
She had never done anything this wild with another student. An unknown mountain could hide all kinds of threats—unnamed magical beasts, trolls, maybe even a dragon.
"Don't worry, Senior. Hold my hand. The trail's rough. Watch your step and don't fall, okay?"
Tom reached back for her. Sunlight warmed his back, turning him into a small sun in Cho's eyes. That sun was offering her his hand.
"Thank you."
Cho ducked her head and let her hair fall forward, hiding the flush at her ears and the sudden shyness in her chest. She had never realized how magnetic Hermione Granger could be. No wonder the school had a Hermione Appreciation Club.
She stole another glance at Tom's back. The air carried a soft, sweet scent—jasmine laced with sugar and something warmer. It reminded her of an old saying: girls are made of sugar, spice, and everything nice.
"Senior, you spacing out? You can't daydream while we're climbing."
"Oh—right."
"Look over there." Tom pointed at a unicorn standing beneath a tree. "I never expected to find one outside the Forbidden Forest. Its neck got hurt, but the wound's scarred over. Probably from something nasty."
Cho's heart skipped. The unicorn's white coat blended with the snow, its single long horn gleaming. It looked lonely and beautiful.
Tom sniffed the air and his eyes lit up. "Hey! It's you!"
The unicorn lifted its head, startled at first, then trotted straight toward them. It pressed close to Tom, breathing in his scent, then lowered its head like it was asking to be petted.
"Huh?" Cho blinked. "What's going on?"
"I saved a unicorn in the Forbidden Forest once. Same wound on the neck, same smell. I never forget a magical creature's scent." Tom tapped his nose. "My nose is pretty good."
The unicorn snorted in agreement.
Tom gently stroked its neck. "Can you take us to the curly goats? Tell them we only need a little wool and whatever horns they've shed. Please."
Curly goats shed their old horns every winter and grew new ones while they curled up in caves. The unicorn nodded, bent its knees, and lowered its back for them to climb on.
"Senior, hop on. We'll find the goats together. No Voldemort here, no scary beasts. We're safe."
Cho's mouth hung open. She had never imagined riding a unicorn through snowy mountains under bright sunlight. Probably only a handful of wizards in the world had ever done it.
Tom helped her up. For a second he felt a strange déjà vu—him and Hermione on a Firebolt not long ago. This time the ride was steady, no sudden jolts, just a calm, even pace.
"The view is incredible," Cho murmured.
No noisy crowds. No annoying little wizards. Just endless white snow and the occasional magical creature watching from a distance. The animals didn't seem bothered by them. Most gave a quick look and a soft call. The unicorn answered back, and the creatures lowered their heads.
"Wow, there really is a dragon up here," Tom said, frowning. "It's asleep right now. It won't wake until spring, so we're fine."
"How do you know that?"
Tom pointed at the unicorn beneath them. "I don't. My friend just told me."
"You… can actually understand them?"
"Of course. I'm basically a Magical Creatures Master. I've got plenty of other secrets too."
Before long the unicorn stopped. Five or six curly goats were rolling in the snow, their new horns still soft and small. The goats grew wary at the sight of the two humans. The unicorn bent low again so Tom and Cho could slide off, then trotted over to speak with them.
"Senior, we'll wait here."
Tom took Cho's hand. Their small fingers laced together in the snow, sharing warmth. The silence felt easy and comfortable.
A moment later the unicorn returned and gave a soft huff. The goats had agreed. Tom and Cho could take a little wool and the shed horns.
Cho's cheeks were pink from the cold—or maybe from something else. She didn't let go of Tom's hand. Neither did he. They stood there a little longer, letting the quiet mountain air wrap around them like a secret they didn't have to share with anyone else.