Chapter 09: Merry Christmas

Christmas had always been Marlene’s absolute favorite time of the year. It wasn’t just about the presents, though, as a child, she still harbored a gleeful affection for those. It was the atmosphere. The crisp crunch of snow underfoot, the warm flicker of enchanted fairy lights strung through every corner of their grand old manor, the scent of cinnamon and sugar wafting from the kitchen, and most of all, the comforting noise of her entire family gathering under one roof. She adored Christmas Eve the most: a long feast at the main table with food both magical and Muggle inspired, storytelling by the fire, and sometimes even magical charades that sent everyone into fits of laughter. If there was one thing Marlene was truly thankful for, it was the way muggle born and muggle raised students had gradually reshaped wizarding traditions to be a bit more inclusive, and fun.

Still, she was a child, and children loved presents. When she woke up on Christmas morning, still cocooned in her fluffy blue pajamas, she bounded out of her room like a spell gone rogue. The wooden floor creaked under her eager steps as she hurtled down the staircase, nearly slipping on the rug but catching herself with the practiced balance of a natural duelist. Her parents were already in the sitting room sipping tea, and she greeted them with a beaming smile before making a direct beeline to the Christmas tree, a towering fir bedecked with glittering tinsel and floating candles.

She had a generous pile of gifts nestled beneath it, at least a dozen from family alone, and she tore into them with gusto. Clothes, trinkets, a rather pretty hairpin enchanted to glow softly in the dark, and from Lily, a book on advanced dueling theory she knew she'd read cover to cover before the week was out. But her hands stilled when she reached the last package: a modestly wrapped box in plain brown paper, tied with thin twine, and adorned with a small, simple card. There was no mistaking it, it was from Rick. Her breath caught for a moment, and a soft warmth spread through her chest. He had gotten her a gift. Despite everything. Despite how little he had. And that alone made it feel more valuable than anything else under the tree.

Dear Marlene,

I hope those would make your time studying more pleasant.

Merry Christmas!

R.W.

Ps: I wouldn’t use them during Transfiguration class.

Putting the card aside, with a happy smile on her face, she tore apart the paper and her smile grew thrice as big when she saw what Rick had gotten her.

At the same time, in the frost draped midlands of England, Lily Evans stirred beneath the weight of her warm duvet. It was Christmas morning, and despite the persistent shadow of her sister's sour mood, she was determined to make the most of it. After all, she had magic, she had friends, and she had the holiday spirit to carry her through. Pulling on a thick robe over her pajamas, she padded down the stairs to join her family in the living room, where the smell of cinnamon tea and pine filled the air. As wrapping paper rustled and laughter bounced through the room, she began to open her gifts with a practiced grace.

Among the pile was a familiar package, Marlene had gifted her a book on charms, one she had half a mind to dive into immediately. But her hands paused instead on a more modest package, its wrapping plain and unassuming. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the label: it was from Rick. A smile spread slowly across her face, a mixture of surprise, gratitude, and a warmth that no fire could match. She couldn’t fathom how he’d managed to afford a gift, but it didn’t matter. It wasn’t the price, it was the thought, the effort, the care. That he had thought of her at all, let alone chosen to spend what little he had on her, filled her chest with a quiet kind of joy no extravagant gift could replicate.

Dear Lily,

When I saw them, they made me think of you. I hope you will like them.

Merry Christmas!

R.W.

She carefully set the note aside, a curious excitement fluttering in her chest, and began to unwrap the small package. Nestled inside the box was a tidy row of Chocoballs, neatly arranged, their glossy coating gleaming softly under the tree lights. Reading the label with growing delight, she discovered they were delicate confections filled with airy chocolate mousse and luscious strawberry cream. Her smile blossomed, stretching from ear to ear. Without a second's hesitation, she plucked one from its place and popped it into her mouth. The chocolate melted instantly against her tongue, the sweetness of the mousse mingling with the bright tang of strawberry, and a soft, involuntary moan of bliss escaped her lips. It was perfect. Simple. Thoughtful. Utterly her.

High in the snow capped reaches of Scotland, nestled within the ancient stone towers of Hogwarts Castle, Minerva McGonagall sat at her desk in quiet contemplation. Her sharp eyes, usually filled with unwavering purpose, now lingered with rare curiosity on the small parcel before her. She had been certain, utterly convinced, that it had come from Albus Dumbledore. The gift's peculiar blend of whimsy and sugar laced indulgence had his eccentric signature written all over it. But the modest card she held in one hand contradicted that assumption, its neat handwriting and youthful tone painting a different picture entirely.

Dear Professor McGonagall,

I didn’t know what to do with all those mice until I thought of you. I hope you like them.

R.W.

Shifting her eyes from the note back to the sweets, she rolled her eyes and took one of the mice pop one of her favorite first years had given her and put it in her mouth.

‘Hmm… Banana. Good choice, Mister Wald.’

Like Lily and Marlene, she was touched that Rick had thought to get her something. But for Minerva, the feeling settled deeper, threading through her heart with a quiet, weighty warmth. She, unlike the girls, truly understood the starkness of his circumstances. She had seen the signs others missed, the careful way he used parchment to avoid waste, the way he made do with one set of robes, the quiet pride that masked want. That he had still chosen to think of her, to spend what little he had not on himself but on a gift for his professor, left her both humbled and fiercely proud. He was a Gryffindor through and through, not loud, not brash, but brave in his generosity and loyal in a way that mattered.

With a final fond glance at the little box and its contents, she tucked the remaining mouse shaped sweets into a drawer of her desk and straightened her robes. She set aside the other presents with methodical care, then rose from her chair. Breakfast called, not that she was particularly hungry, but she wouldn’t mind a warm cup of tea or two, and it was her duty, after all, to be there for her students. Especially the ones who had no one else watching over them.

It was still early. Minerva McGonagall had always been an early riser, but she wasn’t surprised to see Amelia and Rick already seated at the Gryffindor table, chatting animatedly in the soft golden glow of the enchanted ceiling. The flickering candles above cast a gentle light over their faces, highlighting the unmistakable warmth between them. She noticed the subtle details instantly: the way Amelia leaned in with genuine interest, the quiet joy radiating from Rick’s posture, and, most telling of all, the redness in his eyes, a residue of tears recently shed. Yet he wore a smile now, bright and eager, as he enthusiastically pointed out passages in a slim, well bound book on charms resting between them.

Minerva’s eyes narrowed with recognition. That wasn’t one of the standard school texts. No, this was something else entirely. A gift. And judging by his expression, likely the first Christmas present he had ever received.

She wasn’t the only one who had picked up on the significance of the moment. Amelia had noticed the subtle signs too, the barely contained joy in Rick’s voice, the way he held the book as if it were something fragile and precious, and the quiet gleam in his eyes that betrayed how much it all meant to him. But rather than comment, she simply smiled and let him talk, relishing his excitement as he animatedly described the charms text Marlene had given him. Meanwhile, she nibbled on the chocolate frog he had gifted her, savoring each bite with appreciation. Her delight deepened when she checked the card inside and saw she had received the rare new edition of Helga Hufflepuff, an unexpected surprise that made the simple gift feel even more thoughtful.

Minerva greeted them both with a short but heartfelt ‘Merry Christmas’ and went to sit at the teacher’s table. She was soon joined by Fillius and Albus who were surprised to see her with a half eaten mouse pop in her mouth.

“Quite a daring gift. Even from you, Albus.” the charm professor said. He could count on one hand the number of people that would dare joke about his friend and colleague's ability to shapeshift into a tabby cat.

“It is quite daring indeed, but I must confess that it wasn’t my doing,” the headmaster replied with a knowing twinkle in his eye. Minerva, however, paid him no mind. She sat poised and composed, silently enjoying her mouse shaped lollipop as she observed the two students a few feet away. Her gaze was steady but softened, a rare warmth flickering in her usually stern expression. She watched them interact, Rick animatedly flipping through pages, Amelia laughing at some remark, as if their joy alone was enough to momentarily banish the weight of her responsibilities. She didn’t speak, didn’t interject, but there was something quietly content in the way she kept sucking on her lollipop, as if savoring more than just its banana flavor.

“Who else would have?”

“A Gryffindor, if I had to wager, and I believe there's a particular lion cub who’s managed to worm his way into her heart.” His tone was light, laced with mischief, but his gaze was steady and knowing as it drifted toward Rick, who was still deep in conversation and completely unaware he was the topic of it.

“Oh, that would make sense.” Flitwick said, amused too as he understood who Albus was referring to.

“Did the festive atmosphere turn the two of you into old gossiping ladies, or should I expect hexed mistletoe next?” Minerva cut in, her tone sharp as ever, though a glint of annoyance flickered behind her cold delivery.

“And the lioness brought out her claws. I think we’re in trouble, Albus.”

“But of course, one of her cubs is involved after all.”

They didn’t stop chuckling, not even a stutter, when she slowly turned her head toward them, her eyes gleaming with a glare so sharp it could've sliced parchment. Undeterred and clearly immune to intimidation this morning, the two men continued to snicker like schoolboys. Realizing that her classic death stare had lost its edge in the face of holiday mischief, Minerva adjusted her strategy with surgical precision, and went straight for the jugular.

“At least one of my first years gave me something. Can you say the same?”

“And now she’s roaring.” Filius japed, making Dumbledore laugh openly.

“Children. I’m working with children.” she complained but her torment didn’t end there.

“Of course you do, you’re a teacher.”

“Filius, if it’s a duel you’re looking for, it’s a duel you’ll get.” she said, pulling out her wand and putting it on the table.

“I wasn’t, but I wouldn’t mind. It’s been some years since I had a decent opponent.” The half goblin rose to the challenge. He knew how formidable a witch Minerva was and he always wanted to have a go at her.

“Now, now. Let’s not taint this wonderful day of giving and sharing with violence. We were just having a bit of a laugh, Minerva, it’s so rare to see you so open. A Christmas miracle I would say, hm?”

She exhaled through her nose, a mix of amusement and resignation in her breath, before slipping her wand back into its holster with the smoothness of long habit. Albus had made a fair point, annoying, perhaps, in its accuracy, and she wasn't about to let a few teasing jabs sour her morning. Instead, she leaned back slightly in her chair and resumed savoring her mouse shaped lollipop with the measured grace of someone who knew precisely when to wield her temper and when to let it rest.

The rest of the holidays passed in a blur of gentle snowfall, warm hearths, and shared laughter. On New Year's Eve, a cozy celebration was held in the softly glowing Great Hall, its enchanted ceiling shimmering with a starry winter sky. The tables were cleared, leaving ample space for dancing, and it was there, amid flickering candlelight and the soft hum of music, that Amelia took it upon herself to teach Rick how to dance.

To his own surprise, he absolutely loved it. Though his first few steps were clumsy, and he stepped on her toes more than once, he threw himself into the lesson with the same determination he brought to spellwork. When he finally felt confident, perhaps overly so, he began inviting each professor to dance, without an ounce of hesitation or embarrassment. He approached both women and men with equal charm, earning amused refusals from most, though Pomona Sprout and the DADA professor, Arsenae Palby, accepted with grins and took to the floor with good natured enthusiasm.

Yet his favorite partner remained Amelia. The two of them whirled and twirled beneath the enchanted ceiling, laughing breathlessly, feet moving in near perfect sync by the end of the night. When they finally collapsed into seats along the edge of the hall, flushed and panting, it wasn’t just from dancing. It was from the warmth of a moment that neither of them would soon forget.

A week into January, as the castle resumed its usual bustling rhythm with the return of students, the Gryffindor common room was warm with laughter and the crackle of the fireplace. Rick was perched sideways on a chair, wand lazily in hand, practicing the Dancing Feet spell with the casual focus of someone who had nothing better to do. His wand flicked toward a nearby stool, which twitched and vibrated in place like a marionette warming up for a show.

That’s when Marlene and Lily stepped in through the portrait hole, cheeks pink from the cold. A mischievous gleam sparked in Marlene’s eyes as she spotted Rick mid incantation. Without warning, she whipped out her wand and, grinning, mimicked the exact same incantation she had seen him use, gleefully recalling the spell from the very book she’d gifted him for Christmas.

Rick barely had time to register what was happening before his legs betrayed him entirely. They jerked, shimmied, and wobbled like jelly on a sugar high, sending him flailing to the floor with a dramatic thud that echoed across the stone walls. Limbs sprawled and pride wounded, Rick let out an indignant groan while Marlene doubled over laughing.

Lily, rolled her eyes fondly, ended the spell with a flick of her wand, and moved swiftly to help him to his feet, trying her best not to smile as Rick glared at Marlene with theatrical betrayal.

“Not you too! Amelia used it enough on me!” Rick protested, welcoming Lily’s help.

“Nice little jig, Wald.” commented Frank Longbottom who came into the common room. He was a third year student who Rick asked questions sometimes regarding herbology. “I hope you didn’t let Bones walk all over you. Gryffindor’s self respect and pride, you know?”

Frank and Amelia’s healthy, long standing rivalry had become something of legend at Hogwarts. Both were fiercely intelligent, determined, and known for their unshakable work ethic, qualities that placed them neck and neck in the race for top student of their year. They shared a common ambition: to one day join the ranks of the Aurors, the elite enforcers of magical law. Their rivalry extended beyond academics and into the Quidditch pitch, where Frank guarded the hoops as Gryffindor’s stalwart Keeper, while Amelia hunted the golden Snitch with dexterity as Hufflepuff’s Seeker. Their indirect duels on the field had become so iconic that even younger students looked forward to the Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff match more eagerly than the traditionally heated Gryffindor versus Slytherin game.

“I made her eat snow plenty of times!”

“Glad to hear that!” the older boy said with a grin and ventured up the stairs to the boys dorm.

Rick turned back to his friends and shot a pointed, thoroughly unamused glare in Marlene’s direction, his brows furrowed, his lips pursed in offense. But if he’d hoped to guilt her into remorse, he was sorely mistaken. Marlene met his gaze with a smug grin, utterly unfazed, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she leaned back with the relaxed confidence of someone who had just executed a perfect prank and was ready to bask in it.

“It’s good to see you back. How was your holiday?”

“Great!” replied the blonde witch. “I got my ass handed to me by my cousin a lot but duelling him was fun!”

“I spent my time either cooking with my mother or practicing potions. I’m pretty sure I can brew a wiggenweld potion better than you can.”

“And practiced the leg locked jinx too apparently.”

Marlene’s quip, delivered with a mischievous glint in her eye as she flopped onto one of the plush red couches, pulled an arched eyebrow and a puzzled look from Rick. Her tone hinted at something more than teasing, and that, more than the words themselves, piqued his curiosity.

“I didn’t! I can’t use my wand at home, remember?”

“What happened?” Rick asked.

““Potter.””

“Ah.”

Rick immediately pieced it together: his dorm mate had clearly made another ill advised attempt at flirting with Lily. The very idea that Lily Evans, usually the embodiment of calm, kindness, and nonviolence, had been provoked to the point of casting a spell said everything. Whatever James had said or done must’ve been profoundly aggravating.

“What did he say this time?”

““Nothing.”” the girls answered in unison.

That could only mean one thing to Rick: James Potter had said something about him. If it had been Snape, Marlene would’ve been the first to spill the details with sarcastic flair, but her uncharacteristic silence told him everything. That left only one possible target: him. And oddly, instead of being upset, Rick felt a warm swell of satisfaction. Lily, gentle, non confrontational Lily, had drawn her wand over it. She’d defended him, in her own fierce way. And Marlene, boisterous and blunt, had done the same by choosing not to drag it into the light. In that moment, he felt a rare, grounding certainty: he had real friends. Hogwarts, for all its chaos and quirks, had been the best thing that had ever happened to him.

“What about you? What did you do?” the redhead wondered with interest what her friend did in the castle.

“Beside flying.” Marlene teased Lily to get a rise out of her. It failed.

“I’m not going to lecture him about doing what he likes, Marlene. Besides, Amelia promised to keep an eye on him.”

“Well, she did. We spend most of our time together in truth. Exploring the castle, studying or flying. Morigan was with us too during the latter. Amelia also brought me to Hogsmeade one week end.”

“That’s how you got our gifts!” exclaimed Marlene.

“Yes.”

“But I thought visiting Hogsmeade was forbidden for the first and second year?” asked a confused Lily. “You didn’t sneak out did you?” she added with a suspicious glare.

“I did not. I’ll have you know that during the holidays, students of all years can visit Hogsmeade on Saturday if they have permission from their magical guardian.”

“Magical guardian?”

“A witch or a wizard who is legally responsible for you in the magical world. Usually it’s your parents or a relative.”

“In our case, Lily, it’s Professor McGonagall. Of course your parents have to agree too since technically their guardianship supersedes hers.” Rick explained further and Lily nodded in understanding. “Amelia also taught me a few spells, a bit of duelling and how to dance.”

““Dance?””

“Hm. During the small party on New Years eve. That was fun.”

“You almost made me wish I had stayed.” complained Marlene with a pout.

And this was how the first evening of the new term went.