Chapter 99: The Return Gift

By the time Orli finished tidying up and taking a bath, the sky outside had turned pitch black.

Winter nights always descended earlier, and the dormitory was cozy and warm, heated by the crackling fireplace. Hermione sat at her desk, flipping through Hogwarts: A History while jotting down notes on a large sheet of parchment.

Orli dried her hair with a quick drying spell and wandered over to the window. Snowflakes were cascading down in thick, silent waves. The grounds below were still and serene, while the distant Forbidden Forest loomed in shadowy darkness. Yet, the owl she had been waiting for all day was still nowhere to be seen.

"What are you looking at?" Hermione asked, glancing up from her book.

Orli rarely lingered by the window. Her fear of heights always made her feel as though she might accidentally fall if she stood too close.

"Nothing," Orli replied, tearing her gaze away and forcing herself not to think about Snape's Christmas gift.

Lately, she'd been plagued by absurd thoughts, as though her brain had been nibbled away by Flobberworms. It was Professor Snape, after all—wasn't it perfectly normal for him not to give her a Christmas present?

Feeling embarrassed by her own unrealistic expectations, Orli flopped onto her bed and pulled the blanket over her head, chastising herself for her foolish fantasies.

Just then, a sharp tapping came from the window—the unmistakable sound of an owl's beak rapping against the glass. Hermione got up to open the window, letting in a rush of icy air as Dryncorpse swooped into the room.

"Orli! Dryncorpse just scattered snow all over my bed!" Hermione exclaimed in a hushed voice.

Orli practically leapt out of bed, her earlier thoughts completely forgotten. In a few quick strides, she reached Dryncorpse, who was perched on the bed frame. Her eyes immediately locked onto a small, dark green box tied to its talons, glinting faintly under the candlelight.

"Who's sending gifts this late?" Hermione asked, noticing the box as well.

Orli carefully untied the tiny gift box, her fingers trembling slightly with excitement. In her eagerness, she nearly turned the silver ribbon into a tangled knot.

Finally, she lifted the lid, and the sight inside made her hold her breath.

Inside was a delicate, cone-shaped glass vial filled with a shimmering golden potion. Swirls of silvery light danced within, like a pool of crushed starlight.

Nestled beside the vial was a small, plain card bearing two simple words:

"Christmas Gift."

The signature read: S.S.

"Oh my goodness! This—I've seen this in a book before!" Hermione exclaimed, rushing to her bookshelf and pulling out a copy of Advanced Potion-Making. She flipped through the pages feverishly.

"This is Felix Felicis," Orli murmured, her voice dreamy as she cradled the vial in her hands, turning it over and over as though it were the most precious treasure in the world.

"I remember now," Hermione said, staring at the small bottle. "It's a luck potion. Brewing it is incredibly complex and takes six months to complete."

She added, "But Felix Felicis is banned in organized competitions. Don't even think about using it before exams."

"Of course not. It's far too precious. I wouldn't use it unless it was absolutely necessary," Orli replied, carefully placing the vial back into its gift box and padding it with three layers of thick black velvet.

"Huh," Hermione suddenly gasped, her expression shifting as though she'd just realized something. She drew in a sharp breath. "This couldn't be... from Snape, could it?"

Orli nodded, and for some reason, her cheeks flushed with heat. Fortunately, Hermione didn't seem to notice; she was still too stunned.

"I swear, the Snape you know and the Snape we know must be two completely different people," Hermione muttered, shaking her head in disbelief.

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*Author's Note:*

Breaking news!

First-year notes have transformed into second-year cards.

The single word from first year has grown into two words in second year.

Let's give Orli a round of applause!

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