The Anderson family's planned skiing trip for Christmas was canceled; instead, Luke and Sansa came over to celebrate. No one minded—skiing had never been their passion.
On Christmas Eve, Albert noticed Herb lingering outside Nia's room, hesitating over whether to place her gift on her nightstand.
"Santa Claus isn't in vogue anymore," Albert said, gesturing for Herb to put the present under the Christmas tree downstairs.
"I told him that ages ago," Daisy sighed, dressed in her pajamas. She shook her head at the two in the hallway. "Go to bed quickly. Don't stay up late—you'll need to be up in the morning to open presents."
The next morning, Albert was woken early by Nia—and by Tom's furry face nuzzling his own, banishing any trace of sleep.
"I didn't find your gift under the tree," Nia said, holding out her hand expectantly.
"It's right here. I hadn't put it under the tree yet." Albert pushed Tom's face away, sat up, and pulled a neatly wrapped box from his drawer, handing it to her.
"Where's mine?" he asked. The siblings had exchanged gifts for years.
"By the tree downstairs." Nia tore open her package, revealing a delicate badge. "It's beautiful. What kind of bird is this?"
"A phoenix. Some call it a firebird or immortal bird. Headmaster Dumbledore has one, though I've never seen it myself." Albert pulled out a small bag of dried fish and held it out to Tom. "And here's your Christmas gift."
He dangled a piece of dried fish in front of the cat, who immediately meowed anxiously. Albert teased him by pretending to eat it himself.
"This guy's too mean, Tom. We're not playing with him anymore," Nia said, pocketing her badge and scooping up the cat. She grabbed the bag of dried fish and headed downstairs, leaving Albert with only one piece.
"White Christmas!" Albert exclaimed, pulling back the curtains to watch the snow falling outside.
Downstairs, his gaze fell on the pile of packages beneath the tree. Nia was already opening hers at the dining table. Were the rest all his?
Albert unwrapped them one by one:
A few books and greeting cards.
A Quidditch poster from the Weasley twins—though Albert didn't recognize the players, he planned to hang it in his dorm.
A small bag of candy from Sanna, thanking him for his help earlier in the year.
A box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans from Lee Jordan.
A copy of Transfiguration Today—an old issue, sent by Professor McGonagall.
Albert was curious. Did Professor McGonagall really send him a Christmas gift?
Then came a scarf.
"How is it?" Nia asked nervously. "I picked the color."
"It's beautiful." Albert wrapped the grey-white scarf around his neck. It was warm, and though it was a child's style, he was only twelve—still a child himself.
The rest were candies and books, as expected.
Breakfast was especially rich, but the family waited until Luke and Sansa arrived. Around half past ten, the six of them finally sat down together, eating to the sound of Christmas carols. Afterwards, they settled on the sofa, watching TV and chatting lightly.
Nia hoped Albert would perform some magic, but he declined. He still didn't fully understand the Ministry's Trace. Though he had asked around, no one could explain its principles. Normally, the restriction on underage magic was enforced only after the first year, but Albert wasn't willing to risk it.
There were plenty of other things to do—wizard chess, for example. But no one could match Albert. After losing another game, Herb gave up.
Fortunately, Daisy appeared with a large bowl of freshly fried French fries, giving Herb an excuse to stop playing.
"Tom, don't tease Shera. You'll get pecked," Albert warned, lifting the shorthair cat away from the owl. "Did I name it wrong? Should've been Jerry. Tom and Jerry—that would've been perfect."
"Shera sounds better," Nia reminded him.
Moments later, a shriek rang out. Shera had indeed pecked Tom fiercely, chasing him until the disheveled cat hid under the sofa. Everyone laughed.
Sansa poured food for Shera, then bent down to coax Tom out, soothing him with dried fish.
"Tom's getting fatter," Nia said, showing off the birthday gift Albert had given her.
"It's fine for cats to be plump," Sansa smiled, scratching Tom's chin. "Don't you agree, Tom?"
"When can it fly?" Nia asked, poking the Hippogriff model. "Do such creatures really exist?"
"Yes. But they're said to live in unknown places," Albert replied, dipping a fry in ketchup.
"Why do wizards hide like mice?" Daisy asked, leaning against Herb.
"Because there are so few of us," Luke answered. "Most ordinary people fear powers they don't understand. They envy magic, but also fear it. So they call us monsters and find excuses to persecute us. Humans are like that."
Tom lay on the table, batting at a toy with outstretched wings.
"Albert, did you read the book I picked out for you?" Daisy asked suddenly.
"I finished it. It's a very good book," Albert nodded. "It's just a shame that what's in the book stays in the book."