dmims Chapter 27 Christmas: Harry's Noble Phantasm
Chapter 27 Christmas: Harry's Noble Phantasm
Meanwhile, in the Gryffindor common room, everyone was drinking and having a good time, and Ron ate quite a few Chocolate Frogs to collect cards.
"Hiccup~ Let me see who it is this time." Ron opened the box, took out the card and looked at it, then said disappointedly, "Nico Flamel? Oh, I already have that."
Hermione, who was chatting and laughing with Lavender, suddenly understood upon hearing this and exclaimed, "I know!"
Her sudden cry nearly startled Ron, who quickly asked, "Hermione, what's wrong?"
"Nico Flamel!" Hermione whispered to Ron, "He's the one who created the Philosopher's Stone."
It turns out that Nicolas Flamel was also a wizard in the magical world, possessing excellent alchemy skills, and a close friend of Dumbledore. The Philosopher's Stone was a treasure he had created.
Ron listened to Hermione's explanation and asked, puzzled, "Wait, Hermione, how do you know all this?"
"I saw it in 'Famous Wizards of the Wizarding World.' Go get Harry, I'll go get the book." With that, Hermione went off.
Before long, Hermione brought the book from her bedroom, and Ron taught Harry as well.
The three of them huddled around the sofa, all peering at the books. Hermione flipped through a few pages and exclaimed:
"Look! This is it. The Philosopher's Stone can not only turn any metal into gold, but it can also make the elixir of immortality."
Hermione felt all her confusion disappear. "No wonder the Philosopher's Stone was moved from Gringotts to Hogwarts. It turns out he was friends with Professor Dumbledore."
"That's right. Professor Dumbledore not only defeated the dark wizard Grindelwald, but also the mysterious man. The Philosopher's Stone is definitely safer in his hands than in Gringotts."
The two were engrossed in discussing the magical feats Dumbledore had employed, while Harry, leaning on his knife, pondered: "This magical world is truly wondrous; it possesses such a treasure. If I were to obtain this Philosopher's Stone, my brothers and I could all become immortals on earth—wouldn't that be wonderful?"
He was determined to get the Philosopher's Stone, so the next day he, Hermione, and Ron took advantage of their free time to search for hidden cellars inside and outside the castle.
Unfortunately, after searching every nook and cranny of the castle, he couldn't find a single ghostly hole. As time went on, Harry grew tired of it and put the idea out of his mind, focusing instead on practicing his swordsmanship and learning spells.
As the year drew to a close and Christmas approached, Harry was also strapped for cash. He needed to deliver lamb and wine to all the heroes of the house and the professors of the university to prepare for the holiday, which would inevitably involve a lot of money and expenses.
He was a generous and righteous man, and the Tovesley brothers acquired a great deal of gold and jeweled silks, colorful embroidered brocades, rare materials, and pure gold and white silver. They packed everything up, piece by piece, and had Snow White deliver it to him.
She worked non-stop for several days, almost exhausting herself to death.
As Christmas Eve approaches, the lounge is cold and dimly lit, and the dormitories are deserted. After half a year of study, who doesn't miss their mother, who doesn't yearn for their father?
The students scattered with their luggage, leaving only Harry and Ron sitting by the hearth to guard the school.
Harry, having lost both parents and with nowhere to go, goes without saying. Ron, on the other hand, stayed behind because his parents had traveled thousands of miles to visit their second son, leaving him with no home to return to.
The lounge was empty except for the two of them, which made it a bit quiet, but it also felt more comfortable. Harry took two bottles of the spirits they had bought, and Ron laid out some cooked meat from the restaurant.
The two sat cross-legged, drinking and eating heartily, thoroughly enjoying themselves.
After stuffing themselves until their bellies were round, they drunkenly climbed into bed, their heads hitting the pillow as soon as they closed their eyes. When they opened them again, the sun was already high in the sky.
"Hmm~ Uh! Ha~ Harry, I haven't slept this well in ages. Those two bottles of liquor you drank were really strong."
Ron, still half-asleep, got up and looked around, but Harry was nowhere to be seen. Just as he was wondering about it, the dormitory door suddenly opened, and Harry entered with a gust of cold air.
His entire body was milky white, with ice particles mixed in with his sweater, icicles hanging from his hair, and ice shells frozen on his collar and cuffs. Every step he took made a crunching sound, and every stomp of his foot sent snowflakes flying.
"Oh, Harry, you're up early. Did you go practice your knife again?" Startled by the cold air, Ron also sobered up and muttered, "I thought you were as drunk as I was."
Harry laughed and said, "I have a natural capacity for alcohol; I can only get half-drunk after eating eighteen large bowls of wine."
Ron clicked his tongue in amazement, then, noticing the bundles of ribbons wrapped around their feet, exclaimed excitedly, "That's right, Harry! Let's open our Christmas presents!"
Harry's packages were piled up like a small mountain. He took the top one, a brown paper package with the name Hagrid on it. He opened it and found a flute.
He played with it for a moment, then opened the rest. Hermione sent a box of horseshoe-shaped chocolates, Uncle Vernon sent a fifty-pence coin, Dumbledore sent a pair of wool stockings, and even Mrs. Weasley sent a package with a sweater and a box of fudge.
Ron blushed when he saw the bright green sweater. "She knits us a sweater every year. I didn't expect she would knit one for you this year too."
Harry held the garment, sighing deeply.
As the saying goes, "A loving mother's thread sews a garment for her wandering son." Harry had only met Mrs. Weasley once, yet she sent him a garment made with needle and thread; how could he not be grateful?
Harry said seriously, "Your mother is very skilled in needlework. If I have time, I will definitely visit her in person to express my gratitude."
Ron paused for a moment, then asked, "Harry, do you like this sweater?"
"Every stitch and thread is imbued with true affection; how could one not be joyful?"
After hearing this, Ron looked at the sweater again and found it much more pleasing to the eye.
After putting away the sweater, Harry went to unpack the rest and found a Flitwick package.
He took it apart and saw an arm guard, forged from steel, entirely black, engraved with many incantations.
Harry tore the letter off the package and looked at it; the handwriting was flamboyant and elegant.
Merry Christmas, Harry. These are the bracers I used to wear in the dueling arena. The runes on them would glow when danger approached.
Although it can't compare to your knife, this is the most suitable gift I could find for you.
Harry fastened the arm guard, and it shrunk and changed size on its own.
"This is truly excellent protective gear!" Harry exclaimed, swinging his arm with delight. "Great Professor! This gift is exactly what I wanted!"
After he and Ron unpacked the packages and sorted out the gifts, they put on their robes and went to Hagrid's hut.
It should be noted that Hagrid was also an unfortunate man. His mother abandoned him like a worn-out shoe when he was an infant, and his father passed away when he was a child. However, he became an orphan at the same age as Harry.
During this Christmas season, when everyone is reunited with their loved ones, this man is confined to his house.
Harry and Ron brought some warmed wine, left the castle, and disappeared into the white snow, walking away on the snow.
After walking for half an hour, they arrived at Hagrid's hut. Harry knocked on the door and heard clanging sounds coming from inside.
"Who is it?"
"I am Harry, and I've come to visit my brother!"
A moment later, the bolt inside the door rattled, and the door opened halfway. "Oh, Merry Christmas, please come in."
As soon as the two entered the house, they felt the ice and snow melt away and the heat rise, as if they had gone from the Valley of Cold Winds to the Flaming Mountain.
After sitting for only a short while, Ron was already sweating. "Hagrid, it's really hot here."
Hagrid's eyes were unfocused, and he kept glancing around. "Oh, yes, Tooth is more sensitive to the cold, so I want to make the room warmer."
Ron looked over and saw the mastiff lying limply on the ground with its four paws outstretched, its tongue lolling out as it panted. It didn't seem to be afraid of the cold at all.
A strange tale unfolds: Hagrid's cabin is sweltering, Ron sweats profusely as if in the sweltering heat of midsummer. Hagrid, however, is a dog who fears the cold, his teeth chattering from the heat. What secret lies hidden in this strange and suspicious place? To find out what happens next, please read the next chapter.