wish

The weather was not so good on Christmas Day. Just wake up, breathing is in the low temperature of dense white gas. The temperature difference spreads the heat in the room and fogs it on the window panes, and the snow falls all over the frame of the window lattice, like the dense mycelium that the spores pull out, a fuzzy circle of decorative outside.

Aurora threw off the covers and changed her clothes, wrapped her Hufflepuff cloak and scarf tightly around her, slipped on her toes and her shoes, and leaned over to the window to see the deep green forest beyond, which had been obscured by the snow. The Weasley twins were chasing each other around outside the house, Molly's little punishment for their early morning trouble.

But to be honest, it's clearly not punishment for them, it's more of a pleasure. A snowball fight soon broke out in the clearing below, and the two sides were evenly matched.

From downstairs came the smooth, soft sound of Edit Piaf's La Vie en Rose. The sultry, deep notes of the saxophone and the enchanting voice of the singer hung long in the air.

The sound came from Vaux's Christmas present to Arthur, an old Muggle gramophone, a record of La Vie en Rose. As soon as the stylus is on, perfect music pours out.

"This is so much fun." It was the most Arthur had said so far this holiday season. In a short vacation, Volquez and Arthur became so close that even Bill was stunned.

The snow was still falling, and Vox's owl came zooming back from outside with two packages. Soon there was a knock on the door and Volquez's voice: "Aurora, are you awake? There's a package for you."

It was from Remus Lupin.

Aurora quickly gave Hastings the gift and the letter she had written to take home, then opened the letter that had come with the package and read it. It says things have been going on with Remus lately, which haven't been great but have been improving. By the time Aurora starts her third year, Remus will probably have found a good job in Hogsmeade with Dumbledore's help.

"You'll be allowed to come to Hogsmeade at weekends when you're in your third year, and you'll love it. I'll write to you again when I'm sure. I hope you're all right at school."

"Well? Is Remus all right?" Volquez asked, looking curiously at Aurora. 'Aren't we allowed to go to Hogsmeade in the third year? Aurora laughed and shook the well-lettered piece of paper. "Remus should be able to get a job in Hogsmeade by then, too, so we can visit him at weekends!"

"That would be wonderful!

Then Bright darted noiselessly out of the room, causing a great deal of noise from the other side of the corridor. Young RON, with his matted red hair and an old cotton nightgown that was garish and obviously not his size, came running after Bright and a field mouse.

'Scabbers! RON shouted as he ran. "Scabbers, come back here!"

The voles, chased by Bright up and down, occasionally scratched and squeaked, scurried into every possible crevice.

"Brett! Aurora stopped the cat from pursuing the field mouse. "It's RON's pet, not your breakfast. Are you hungry? Shall we go downstairs? '

Cats probably have a natural obsession with mice, and after Aurora had embraced him, Brett was still trying to grab the fat vole, which was tucked in RON's arms.

"I'm sorry, RON, Brett's probably hungry." Aurora looked at the boy apologetically. The other waved that it didn't matter, shoved Scabbers back into his baggy nightshirt pocket, scratched his hair and said, 'It's all right, it's just... How do you say that? By nature. Yes, nature. Scabbers is getting too fat, I think all cats will like it. '

"I'll go down first, then. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas."

Aurora carried Brett briskly downstairs, fed him a few things, and then turned to the kitchen to wash her hands and help Molly prepare breakfast. Over the past few days, she and Molly have been getting along very well, each other has been melancholy without Aurora to help, she must not be used to.

Mollie was a typical Gryffindor, warm and friendly, who liked to put all her attention into her home decor and research dishes. She has a lot to talk about, and all Aurora has to do is listen quietly and respond with a few humorous reflections every now and then.

After breakfast, Aurora borrowed the Weasleys' owl and handed out the presents she had prepared the day before. There were handmade candies for Professor Dumbledore, because he had also given himself a box on Halloween, though Aurora had given most of them away.

And then there's the Christmas present for Snape.

As last year, she wrapped it in a white gift box, tied a gold ribbon around it and included a blooming freesia on top.

Then she went outside the door and waited for the owl to return with this last gift.

George and Fred greeted Aurora, and the fierce snowball fight continued, as did the music on the phonograph. A faint, almost illusory sunlight peeped out from behind the cold and damp clouds of the deep meadow, and fell gently on the snow in a misty light gold, with a delicate texture like velvet.

"His kiss rested in the corner of my eye, and a smile crossed his lips." Piaf's romantic voice melts in the air, the whole world is so beautiful and warm.

"This is the true image of him, the man, to whom I belong."

"When he holds me in his arms, I can see my romantic life as a rose." Aurora gently hummed along to the music on the phonograph, feeling extremely relaxed.

Far away, a shrill hoot came from an owl. Aurora stood up and waved at him, holding up the flawless gift box. Tiny crystals of snow fell into her sight along with the sunlight.

"The night of love will never end, and happiness will replace the night... Troubles are all eliminated, happiness until the end of life."

The owl snatched the little girl's gift box and fluttered off in the direction of Hogwarts. Aurora watched the owl quickly disappear from view and unconsciously joined Piaf in singing the last line of the song:

"I see a rosy life."

Merry Christmas, La Vie en Rose.

...

Visiting Regulus on Christmas Day would certainly have ruined Snape's day, but apparently Dumbledore thought it was a good idea.

It was no wonder why, when Beverly opened the door, she saw Dumbledore with a sunny face and Snape with a dark cloud on his face.

Smiling at her surprise, Dumbledore snapped his fingers behind her ear, conjured a gift box out of thin air and held it in front of her. "Merry Christmas, Beverly," he said.

"St... Merry Christmas, Professor." Beverly took the box and leaned in to let them in. "Regulus is better. At least he doesn't sleep half the day like he used to. Thank you, Dean."

Snape looked particularly murderous when he squeezed a smile to match the grimness on his face.

To tell you the truth, these two people walk together too discordant, one like summer and the other like winter.

The examination was not complicated; Regulus was improving, as Snape had expected, but his memory loss was a problem. This is the most important question of all.

Snape had left freshly brewed potions as a Christmas present and wished each other a Merry Christmas with a grin on his face and in a tone that suggested he was about to raid someone's house. Regulus nodded cautiously, accepted the wind's blessing, and escorted them out of the courtyard.

"When you're better, we'll see if we can get your memory back." It seemed easy enough for Dumbledore to play the role of topic developer among the less talkative. "We'll call on you in the meantime, while you recuperate."

"Thank you, Professor. Thank you and Professor Snape for your help, I really do." Regulus said softly, with a thin sparkle in his dark gray eyes. His winter coat was too much of a burden for his excessively emaciated figure, and Dumbledore could not feel the shape of his shoulder bone under his palm when he patted him kindly.

The boy was frighteningly thin. "He thought.

Back at Hogwarts, Snape tried to take his leave and return to the crypt office, but Dumbledore beat him to it. "It's Christmas," he said, "Why don't we go for a walk? It's the only time of the year you see very few students at Hogwarts, apart from the summer holidays. It's awfully quiet."

Snape's cheek rolled with the gnashing of his teeth, but he agreed to the offer. For no other reason than that Dumbledore was right; there were so few rare students these days that the whole castle looked very beautiful to him.

Whether Dumbledore had thought so or not he did not know, but Snape knew very well that Dumbledore must have guessed.

Together they walked slowly towards the drawbridge in the valley of the school, where the snow was piled up in the forest, hiding the too heavy shade of the trees, leaving only the green river, with its transparent waves, running merrily. The snow on both sides of the river is pure to dazzling, as if the surrounding colors have been wiped and melted into the lively river.

"Do you think there's any chance Regulus's memory will ever come back?" "Asked Dumbledore, looking so far away that he could hardly find focus.

Snape replied simply, as he had imagined himself many times. "His body will have to get rid of the mummification completely before we can talk about memory."

"The intense denaturing toxin of inferi." "Regulus seems to have been in a very dangerous place."

"He's lucky, isn't he?" "Said Snape, without emotion.

"You just said his recovery is going better than expected, so is it going to be a long process?" "Said Dumbledore suddenly.

"It may take four or five months."

Snape had just finished speaking when the sound of birds flapping their wings came from a short distance. Both of them looked up at the same time and saw a wobbly dark grayish-brown owl swooping towards it, clutching a white gift box in its claws, directly at Snape.

Without thinking, the young Dean turned sideways, frowning, and the owl toppled onto the drawbridge, burying most of its head in a snowdrift. The box of presents that had fallen off the ledge took a few ricochets and plunged into the abyss below, where Dumbledore rescued it with a floatation charm.

"Oh -- from a beautiful, gentle lady." With an exaggerated and deliberately cheerful drawl, Dumbledore finally let a freesia float up to the surface, lying flat on its back in the palm of his hand, his deep blue eyes looking at Snape over his half-moon glasses, a smile of kind and sickening kindness. "Severus, I believe this is for you."

With these words, he grasped a freesia branch with his long fingers and shook it gently, spreading a light and pleasant fragrance into the cold air.

"Ah, what young flowers full of life." The old headmaster felt infinite emotion.

Resisting the urge to drop the Blight Curse, Snape let his eyes fall on the soft-colored freesia and, with a slight pause, unconsciously guessed the giver of the gift.

Dumbledore continued to look lovingly at Snape's expressionless white face, and suggested earnestly, "You really ought to adjust your sleep schedule, Severus. There is a price to be paid for youthful audacity, one day."

As he spoke, he handed the young potion-master the freesia he held in a slip-knot of ribbon.

Snape took it very quickly, and took his leave without hesitation. Dumbledore waved him ahead, intending to stay and watch the snow for a while.

I don't understand. Snape wondered, rather darkly, how Dumbledore, at his age, had managed to bombard himself with sweets and still stay alive without going to St Mungo's once a year.

It's not for nothing that he seems to stand head to head with the Dark Lord.

Back in the cellar, Snape opened the box to reveal a handmade tea bag, a white card, and a pair of cufflinks.

He looked down at his sleeve, and sure enough, only an empty thread was still there.

Cufflinks are simple and surprisingly unannoying.

Snape pursed his lips, took the card out and turned it over:

"Dear Professor, Merry Christmas.

I hope you won't be offended by the handmade tea. In fact, I personally think they taste pretty good. You may want to try them.

Wish you a happy holiday.

Your true student, Aurora Field."

...

After dinner, the most lively activity of Christmas begins.

The snow had stopped for good, and a halo of honey-colored light was cast on the ground by a magic floating candle. Molly and Arthur carried the table out into the open courtyard, and Vox and Aurora explained the rules of the little games of the Muggle world, and then they were all laughing and laughing together at once.

Aurora has a weak sense of family, and neither her experiences in the world nor her own broken memories have taught her what her family was like.

But the way she looked at the Weasleys, she seemed to understand the concept of home at once. If I can have a family of my own in the future, it should be so warm and cheerful.

At this time, Charlie proposed that everyone say their Christmas wishes, according to the rules of the game, who draws who will be a Santa Claus, within the ability to help each other to achieve this wish, can not do on the penalty singing.

The proposal was unanimously endorsed.

Aurora wrote down her Christmas wish, crumpled it up and put it in Bill's pocket. When everyone's wishes had been put in, Bill shook the pockets vigorously and, laughing, told everyone to pull the spitballs again.

Volquez drew Arthur's note, in which he wished to learn more about Muggle life and inventions. He then invited Arthur to come to his house whenever they were both free, and he could serve as a free tour guide and encyclopedia.

Bill had drawn George's and Fred's common note and had to give them the talking skull he had bought last time in Diagon Alley.

When Arthur drew Aurora's note, his face was in tears -- Aurora's Christmas wish was for her to stop stepping on the line in Potions at the beginning of the semester.

"It's a perk, so everyone must hear someone sing." Aurora smiled at Arthur. Molly was obviously the most pleased, for she had not heard Arthur sing since the proposal. "What a wonderful wish, my dear!"

The little girl grinned her little white teeth.

When Arthur finally stumbled through the English ballad he had sung when he proposed to Molly, her eyes turned red and she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. Bill duly covered RON's and Ginny's eyes with one hand and a perfect smile on his face. George and Fred whistled flirtatiously, and then laughed.

Aurora's winner was a note from Charlie that said his wish was to meet a real dragon and meet a good friend who loved it as much as he did.

The little boy's "best friend" two words written somewhat crooked, as if in a tangle of something.

Aurora thought for a moment, then jumped off the bench next to Charlie, sat down next to him, looked at him and said earnestly, "You will see dragons some day. And, if you don't mind, I can be your good friend who likes dragons."

"Oh!!" The Weasley Twins, in unison, began a winking drawl. The smile on Bill's face became even more profound, causing Walkers to feel a stomachache. "Why are you laughing?"

"Nothing." Bill replied, "Happy that Charlie has made a good friend. It's a big brother's smile of relief."

"Your face tells me you don't." Volquez looked at him suspiciously, incredulous.

There was a short hoot of an owl overhead, and then something wrapped in parchment fell out of the sky and landed with a loud noise between Aurora and Charlie. Fortunately, the two children were quick to get out of the way before it came crashing down.

"Merlin, this bird is terrible." RON patted his chest fearfully.

George leaned forward curiously and looked at the snow-covered thing. "What is it?"

"As if... Is it a book?" Fred picked it up, tilted his head and looked at the card. "Here, Field."

"Here you are." He gave it to Aurora in surprise.

Aurora froze for a moment, took the card, read the writing, and instantly guessed who sent it. To her surprise, however, the package was so thick that she expected it to be only a two-word letter like last year.

"What is it, Aurora? Who sent it to you?" 'asked Walkers curiously. Logically, close people don't use their last names on such occasions, but if they are very estranged, they don't send gifts, do they?

"Uh. Let me see."

As she spoke, she unwrapped the parchment to reveal the cover of a book inside. It was a rather old, dark green notebook containing explanations on Potions throughout the second year. Looks like a very practical class note.

On top of that, there was a hard card, heavy in ink, with a dull, smooth handwriting and a sharp finish: "Merry Christmas."

"It's a Potions book, Merlin! George looked incredulous at the notebook in Aurora's hand and then at the pile of notes. "Really? What a coincidence? !"

"Perhaps Merlin heard my prayers and came to me at last." Aurora replied calmly with a wink. "After all, I always make a wish at school by the fountain with his statue on it before I take a test."

"... Are you serious?"

"Of course. But I do sometimes wish on Professor Dumbledore's card."

"!!