Hogwarts Study Panel

Chapter 349, Section 348: Group Activities

On the stained glass windows, where the glass was as fine as sand, the melting snow dripped down in tiny, pitter-pattering streams.

Sheen is returning the gift.

Unbeknownst to him, Professor McGonagall was gazing at the gray sky with a faint smile; in the cellar, the crucible, which was almost never extinguished, was cooling down.

Anticipation is a special thing; it happens before joy arrives.

hall.

Sheen stuffed the plan map into an exquisitely packaged box. As for the other box, Sheen placed his notes on his research and refinement of potion rituals over the past few days.

Poor Bai Yi—she had just recovered some of her strength, and now she had to go off to deliver the message again.

After handling the more important return gifts, Sheen also received many unexpected gifts.

Most of the young wizards at Hogwarts sent him thank-you notes, mixed with sweets such as small round tarts, Christmas cakes, and nut brittle.
[Mr. Green, thank you for your notes]

Grimm's Notebooks will be my favorite book of all time.

[Your section on the history of magic during the Merlin era is still incomplete, oh no, I mean, Mr. Grimm, Merry Christmas!]

There were many letters, so Sheen took two quill pens to reply to them together.

To the left of the Christmas tree, Justin and his friends were still talking quietly.

"Professor? Is it the one I'm thinking of?"

Hermione looked at Justin curiously; if any of the young wizards knew more, it was Justin.

"I don't think it's Snape."

Ron scoffed. Snape had even confiscated their Quidditch Origins.

Everyone knows he hates Quidditch.

"may be."

Justin nodded gently.

Harry and Ron didn't know what Justin was trying to say, but they didn't ask any questions and started unwrapping their gifts.

Harry's little package was sent by the Dursleys.

They gave Harry a broom and a short note asking if he wanted to stay at Hogwarts for the summer.

"How could that be... I wish..."

Harry stared at the text message, then at the broom, his usual irritability melting away like snowflakes, and he was momentarily dazed.

The Dursleys didn't know the difference between a magical broom and a regular broom; they just assumed all brooms could fly—but that didn't matter. When Harry looked at the broom, he would understand that his aunt and uncle knew he liked flying brooms.

He was stunned for a while before he started unwrapping the other gifts.

Hagrid gave him a large bag of syrup toffee, which Harry decided to soften by the fire before eating; Ron gave him a book called "Flying with the Cannons," which was about his favorite Quidditch team; and Hermione bought him a fancy eagle quill pen.

Harry opened the last package of gifts, which turned out to be a brand new hand-knitted sweater and a large raisin cake from Mrs. Weasley.

He held up Mrs. Weasley's greeting card, and a wave of guilt washed over him. He thought of Mr. Weasley's car and the disciplinary order.

Just as he was thinking about it, a letter fell out:

Honey, don't worry about the car, it came back on its own.

—Love you: Molly

In an instant, Harry felt the fire burning fiercely, dispelling the winter chill.

"Alright, Harry, are you ready?"

Justin suddenly spoke up at that moment.

"Yes."

Harry quickly responded.

He turned his head and saw Ron looking at him smugly. Hermione had also picked up a package, and even Neville stood up holding a gift box. The group exchanged glances and then surrounded Sheehan.

While Sheen was still replying to the letter, he noticed the malicious looks in the eyes of the young wizards.

What is this... for?
Sheehan gazed at the young wizards with calm, slightly confused green eyes, and Hermione was the first to give in:
"Sheen, Merry Christmas! Have you forgotten our presents, you idiot—"

She placed a beautifully packaged cardboard box on the table.

"This is the second winter we've all spent together, Sheen, Merry Christmas."

Justin, all smiles, placed the same gift box on Sheen's desk.

Next up were Harry, Ron, Neville...

Sheehan could see the gift boxes piling up higher and higher until Neville couldn't put them on any more. It was only when Justin reminded him that he remembered he was a wizard—and hurriedly used a levitation charm to put them on.

Warm, dry snow fell gently from the ceiling, and the gift boxes Sheen received were piled up as high as a Christmas tree.

As if they had just finished a fun group activity, the young wizards gathered around the stove and started chatting away.

Occasionally, Ron would let out a gasp—the gift Sheen had given him was a brand new, quirky wizard chess set;

Or perhaps it was Neville, who, at everyone's urging, transformed into a big, fat orange cat and ran around.

Hermione and Justin chased after it relentlessly.

"It's all your fault, Ron!"

Hermione glared at Ron when she had a spare moment; it was all his idea.

Ron was happily chasing the big, fat orange cat, but his happiness quickly faded:

"Banban! Oh my god! Take—Neville—away—ah—!"

Ron was terrified.

Neville's claws were scratching at the spots.

Ron grabbed Scabbers' tail and tried to grab Neville with his other hand, but bumped into the corner of Harry's table. The pudding on the table shook.

Ron clutched his hand, yelling in pain.

……

It's a joyous Christmas.

Sheen looked at the gifts from the young wizards, his green eyes slightly unfocused.

—Five sweaters. Hermione packed an extra scarf, while Justin packed an extra pair of gloves.

My mother said—

It was Justin's voice, coming from a letter.
"The most important thing is that when the snowflakes are falling, good news from the human world tends to land low down."

Sheen looked up and saw the young wizards speaking in unison.

Justin was leading the way; Hermione's face was flushed from the exertion; Harry was holding Neville, the orange cat, trying to get him to spit out Scabbers' tail; and Ron was pitifully tugging at Scabbers, while forcing a smile.

"eggplant!"

Colin appeared out of nowhere, and the first-year student, quick as a flash, snapped a unique photo.

Now everyone could see that Sheen's lips were curled up in a wide smile.

On the platform, Professor Dumbledore was leading the young wizards in singing his favorite Christmas carols, while Hagrid, after downing cup after cup of eggnog, grew louder and louder.

Percy didn't notice that Fred had cast a spell on his prefecture badge, changing the word "idiot" on it, and kept asking everyone what they were laughing at.

Draco Malfoy, sitting at the Slytherin table, loudly mocked Harry's new sweater, and when he looked at Sheen, he subtly remarked that Sheen's sweater was impeccably tasteful—even though they were actually made by Mrs. Weasley.

This winter.

It's as if they want to throw all the fun memories into the oven and let the little wizards roast and eat them piece by piece.

　Second update
　　
　
(End of this chapter)