Chapter 89. Results and Christmas
Fortunately, before heading to Paris, Adrian Wesson had brought along a Portkey.
If he had tried to Apparate back to New York, he might well have lost his way halfway.
The moment he touched the silver teaspoon, Adrian was back outside the Office for External Visitors in New York.
"Good evening, sir," came Blunt's listless voice the instant Adrian stepped through the door. "Please come over here and fill out this—hang on, it's you again, Mr Wesson."
Adrian shrugged at the weary receptionist. "Accidentally triggered the Portkey."
Blunt looked mildly perplexed, but didn't press him—his shift changed in three minutes, and whoever wanted to deal with it could deal with it then.
Adrian's parents had bought a small house with a garden near Tiamorrison General Hospital.
On special days, they would bring Ariana home from the hospital to look after her.
Today was one of those days—they could not leave her lying alone in a cold ward.
After listening to his mother's brief update, Adrian headed straight for Ariana's room at the end of the second floor.
Ariana lay as always, eyes closed on the bed, her long brown-black hair spilling over the pillow.
After watching quietly for a while, Adrian took from his trunk the leaf from the Tree of Wisdom.
[Description: Imbued with pure soul power.]
Adrian believed the leaf would help his sister, but how exactly should it be used?
A potion? A ritual? Or something else…
As Adrian pondered, he suddenly noticed movement in the leaf from the Tree of Wisdom.
It rose lightly into the air to hover above Ariana's forehead, as if drawn by invisible threads, and began to shed pinpricks of light like fireflies.
More wondrous still, those lights pulsed in time with Ariana's faint breathing.
Adrian watched, tense.
The leaf gradually liquefied, turning into a little stream that shimmered with starlight and gently seeped into Ariana's brow. Seeing this, Adrian hurried to commune with the Tree of Wisdom.
"Eldra, what's happening?"
[Name: Ariana]
[Status: Soul Integrity (51%)]
51%… 52%… 53%…
It was working! The Tree of Wisdom's leaf truly could mend a soul!
Adrian couldn't help but hold his breath.
At last, the final thread of energy sank into Ariana's forehead.
The room fell briefly silent; only the ticking of the bedside clock remained.
[Status: Soul Integrity (61%)]
"Ariana?"
Adrian tried calling softly.
There was no response.
It seemed that until the damage to her soul was fully repaired, Ariana would remain unconscious.
Adrian stood there a moment longer, until his mother called his name from downstairs.
"Good night, Ariana."
On Christmas Day.
As on every Christmas, it was the busiest time for owls.
Even in New York, plenty of owls from Britain crossed the ocean to tap at his window.
Adrian had no choice but to keep the window open.
Every so often, another parcel appeared on the table by his bed—gifts from friends or students.
From the suitcase beside him, Rai immediately shot out.
Though it was winter and snow had begun to fall outside, Rai was as lively as ever.
Adrian fed Rai while tallying the parcels he had received.
"Let's see who we've got this year…"
There weren't many parcels, all from people Adrian knew well—an apothecary owner he often worked with, friends he'd made on his travels, and the like.
Unexpectedly, Roskin had sent a gift as well.
"This is… an egg?"
Unwrapping the parcel, Adrian found a large, metallic-sheened egg.
It had been placed in a specially made thermostatic box; beneath it lay a note: Seized from a band of smugglers—those idiots wanted to turn it into a specimen! Sadly it's a dead egg, so you can have it.
An Occamy egg…
Adrian remembered Kettleburn once bringing an Occamy to the school. An Occamy was a serpentine creature with feathers, wings, and two legs that could expand or contract in size at will.
An Occamy egg's shell was pure silver, highly sought after, and its yolk and white had many uses.
There was even a shampoo on the market made from Occamy egg yolk.
Adrian had bought it once; the results were quite good—just a bit pricey…
Oh, right. The person who invented that shampoo was Gilderoy Lockhart.
He went on opening the rest of the parcels.
Harry had sent him a pocket-watch care kit, and Lupin a pair of new gloves…
Ah—Hermione had even sent a card that read: Thank you for your guidance. Merry Christmas.
In addition, a few Hufflepuff students had sent cards as well.
Receiving adorable students' gifts was always heart-warming.
When Adrian finished unwrapping everything, he slumped back into his chair.
The past few days had worn him out. He'd Apparated far too many times yesterday; his head still throbbed faintly.
But with Ariana's condition having made significant progress, he felt as though a heavy weight in his heart had eased a little.
Next, he needed to think about how to obtain more leaves from the Tree of Wisdom imbued with soul power…
Back to Hogwarts.
Inside the Gryffindor common room.
Harry and Ron were sitting on the floor together, opening the parcels at the foot of their beds.
They had no idea how the gifts were delivered. Ron thought owls had slipped them in; Harry believed House-elves brought them, like the food that suddenly appeared on the tables.
Harry received a flute from Hagrid, a large box of horseshoe-shaped chocolates from Hermione, a jumper knitted by Mrs Weasley and a tray of fudge,
and from his aunt and uncle: a fifty-pence piece.
Harry tossed the coin aside in distaste.
He opened the next one. From a small, finely wrapped parcel he found a little box that sat neatly in his palm.
"It's from Professor!"
On the note beneath the box, Harry saw Adrian Wesson's handwriting: Merry Christmas, Harry. This is a protective amulet, made of wood from a lightning-struck tree.
Harry couldn't wait to open it. Inside lay a small jet-black tag.
He picked it up for a closer look. It was covered in fine lines and symbols he couldn't read, with a little cord at the top.
"What's that?" Ron asked distractedly as he fiddled with his own gifts.
"Professor Wesson's given it to me—it looks like an amulet."
"Mm. Seems Professor Wesson really does like you," Ron said enviously, eyeing the thing in Harry's hand. "What spell's on it?"
"No idea."
Harry shook his head and slipped the amulet into his pocket.
The last parcel was anonymous. Inside was something silver-grey and fluid-like.
Harry recognised it at once—an Invisibility Cloak.
He had found one in the warehouse at Wesson's plantation once.
However, that cloak had been stored too long and had almost lost its power to render the wearer invisible.
Who would send him an Invisibility Cloak?
Harry looked to the note beside it: Your father left this in my keeping before he died. It is time it was returned to you.
Use it well. A very Merry Christmas to you.
His father?
Harry thought for a moment. It must have been someone who'd known his dad.
Who could it be?
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