"Harry Potter- Ravenclaw"Chapter 24: Square-Shaped Gifts
The night was deep and silent. Time had slipped quietly past midnight—Christmas Eve had come and gone without a sound.
Wyzett turned the doorknob with care, tiptoed down the stairs, and crept into the living room. By the fireplace, he stuffed Christmas presents into the stockings.
Luna adored the tales of Santa Claus, so along with all the ribbons and balloons, she'd insisted on buying those big, bright-red Christmas stockings as well.
Wyzett had just finished tucking his gift for Luna into her stocking and was about to reach for the next one when he heard soft footsteps overhead.
He immediately stepped back, retreating toward the kitchen, and waited in silence.
There was a faint rustling from the living room, then more footsteps.
Luna appeared, wrapped in a powder-blue nightgown. The moment she spotted Wyzett, she winked playfully with her right eye, covered her mouth, and ducked into the kitchen to hide with him.
The footsteps outside, of course, belonged to Xenophilius.
"This is Luna's stocking… Why is there something inside?" Xenophilius's voice was full of confusion. "Wyzett wouldn't have given her a book, would he?"
"Oh well! This one's Wyzett's stocking… What did Luna put in here? It's square, too. Don't tell me… another book?"
"Oh dear! Is Wyzett's studiousness rubbing off on Luna now? Ah, well! They're both Ravenclaws—I suppose it can't be helped…"
Wyzett and Luna were about to slip out of the kitchen when Xenophilius's footsteps faded away down the hall and vanished.
"Merry Christmas!" Wyzett whispered, retrieving his present from the stocking.
Laughter sparkled in Luna's voice as she held up her own square-shaped gift. "Merry Christmas!"
They sat down across from each other, each unwrapping the first present of the day.
Wyzett had given Luna a sketchbook, while Luna had gifted Wyzett a picture frame.
"You can draw on this…" Wyzett began.
"And you can press right there…" Luna added.
Luna picked up the pen that came with the sketchbook—a delicate pen made of crystal. She traced the shape of a rabbit, and as a gentle glow shimmered, a snowy white bunny leapt from the page, bounding and hopping about.
Wyzett pressed the picture frame, and the leaves hidden inside rose up, floating and swirling above the frame. They layered and arranged themselves, forming a moving scene: Wyzett hurling the Quaffle through the goal ring.
It was a magical gift, both simple and ingenious. Its simplicity lay in the magic—just a basic Levitation Charm woven into the frame. But the cleverness was everywhere: using the Levitation Charm to choreograph the leaves, or gathering such a vibrant collection of leaves in the first place—each detail spoke of patience and creativity.
Spirit and ingenuity, patience and meticulous care… In Wyzett's mind, only Luna could blend all these qualities so perfectly and share them so freely.
"I love it…"
"Good night…"
They spoke at the same time, then burst out laughing together.
Remembering the gift they'd forgotten to set out, they took it and tucked it into Xenophilius's stocking together…
Wyzett returned to his room, lay back on his bed, and stared at the ceiling, letting memories drift through his mind—the image of Luna at Hogwarts, gathering leaves with such earnest devotion. Slowly, he drifted off to sleep…
Christmas morning, Wyzett awoke from his dreams.
A commotion was coming from downstairs—a series of loud, thudding bangs.
He snapped to full alert, rolling out of bed in an instant. With a thought, he summoned both Custodis Meditatio and his Oculus Magicae; then he drew his wand from his pocket, his expression sharpening.
He turned the doorknob. The banging from outside was louder now, mixed with a shrill, all-too-familiar voice.
"Dobby cannot leave! Dobby already belongs to Mr. Lovegood!"
Another crash.
Dobby?
A house-elf?
Putting the clues together, Wyzett immediately thought of that peculiar house-elf who was always punishing himself.
He stayed on guard until he reached the bottom of the stairs and took in the scene, only relaxing a fraction when he saw that Luna and Xenophilius were unharmed.
"Wyzett, come here—can you make sense of this?" Xenophilius called, looking exasperated. "He says he belongs to Mr. Lovegood, but then he won't listen to me…"
"I just found him here, hurting himself over and over… He keeps saying it's punishment, that he has to show he's truly sorry…"
"Master…" Dobby turned toward Wyzett, still punishing himself. He slammed his head against the floor, again and again, until blood spattered everywhere—the sharp, metallic scent filled the air.
Wyzett frowned. "Stop!"
Dobby froze, still bowed low, letting blood drip freely from his wounds onto the floor.
"Here… use this to stop the bleeding." Luna hurried into the living room, holding a mortar filled with crushed herbs—dittany, by the look of it.
Dobby didn't move, only bowed even lower before Wyzett.
Wyzett pressed on, "Why are you here?"
"Master… I am… your house-elf… I will serve you… faithfully…" Dobby's voice trembled violently, as if he were fighting back waves of terror.
He shuffled forward, still bowing, and offered Wyzett a letter.
Wyzett took it and saw the signature: Lucius Malfoy. Inside were two pieces of parchment.
One was a short note, bearing only two lines: "Loyal Lucius Malfoy presents you with a gift."
The other was an official certificate from the House-Elf Relocation Office—a document from the Ministry of Magic declaring that Dobby was now Wyzett's property.
"Wyzett." Luna stepped forward, offering the mortar. "Dobby is bleeding a lot."
"I see. I'll take care of it." Wyzett managed a reassuring smile, though his mind was tangled with questions.
Why would Lucius suddenly send a gift—especially a house-elf?
And that phrase, "loyal Lucius Malfoy"…
Why say something like that to him?
As the thought crossed his mind, Wyzett turned to Dobby again. "Come upstairs with me. Mundus Totalus!"
He flicked his wand, scrubbing the blood from the living room, and led Dobby to his bedroom.
"Treat your wounds." Wyzett handed the mortar to Dobby.
The elf flinched instinctively, backing away a step, then immediately tried to punish himself again.
Wyzett cut him off. "Stop! Unless I give the order, you're not to harm yourself."
"Oh!" Dobby let out a long, shaky sigh, staring at Wyzett in disbelief.
Wyzett repeated, "Apply the medicine. It's dittany—it'll stop the bleeding easily."
"Yes… my master…" Dobby took the mortar with trembling hands, screwed his eyes shut as though facing doom, and smeared the herbal paste onto his forehead.
With a series of sizzling sounds, his wounds sealed up in an instant—though his head, still streaked with drying blood, looked rather gruesome…
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