"Was it really necessary to rent a car?" Celestia asked, her voice caught between irritation and resignation as she settled into the passenger seat.
Nathael didn't take his eyes off the road. His hands gripped the wheel with a mix of concentration and fascination, as if he were piloting something far older and more dangerous than a mere automobile. Around them, the Pennsylvania landscape unfolded in gentle waves of snow-covered hills and bare trees beneath a gray sky threatening more snow.
"I've always wanted to drive one of these," he said, accelerating slightly as he took a curve. "They're like metal beasts tamed by Muggle logic."
Celestia huffed. She pulled her blue jacket tighter and adjusted her scarf.
"We could've come by broom. Or Portkey. Even Apparition, if we split the journey into stages. We'd have taken half the time."
"But we would've missed this," Nathael said, nodding toward the scenery. "America is immense. And seeing it from the sky is one thing. Seeing it from the ground… is another. It's understanding how Muggles see it. How they feel it."
Celestia arched an eyebrow.
"Since when do you care so much about how Muggles feel?"
Nathael smiled—but didn't answer. He glanced in the rearview mirror. In the back seat, Hermione and Draco slept deeply, leaning against each other without realizing it, exhausted from the flight, the time change, and the excitement of the journey.
"They're growing," he murmured.
"Yes," Celestia said, softening her tone. "Though Draco still sleeps like he thinks he deserves a phoenix-down bed."
"And Hermione with her homework half-scribbled in her lap," Nathael added, chuckling softly.
They drove in silence for hours more. The radio played a slow 1980s ballad. The car's heater hummed gently. And Celestia finally closed her eyes and allowed herself to rest.
When they reached Kingston Falls, the sun had already set. The town lay wrapped in an almost magical winter peace—clean streets, houses glowing with Christmas lights, snow-draped trees, and a silence that seemed to blanket everything like thick wool.
Nathael parked in front of a small red-brick hotel with a sign that read The Alpine Inn.
"We're here," he said, turning off the engine.
He gently shook Hermione and Draco awake.
"Come on. Time to wake up."
The two teens sat up, eyes half-closed and disoriented for a moment.
"Where…?" Hermione murmured.
"Kingston Falls," Nathael said, opening the car door. "Welcome to the place where magic hides behind Christmas lights."
Hermione looked at the town and smiled.
"It's… beautiful."
Draco, still drowsy, rubbed his eyes and stepped out of the car with elegance—though a bit clumsy from the cold.
They checked into the hotel with their flawlessly forged Muggle documents and went up to their room—a small suite with two double beds, an electric fireplace, and a window overlooking the town square.
After dropping their bags, Draco turned to Nathael.
"When do we go look for the magical creature?"
Nathael sat in a chair and crossed his legs.
"We'll wait a bit. I'm sure the signs will come to us. Magical creatures always leave traces when they break the rules."
Draco frowned.
"Rules?"
"Yes," Nathael said. "You'll understand when the time comes."
They spent the afternoon like ordinary tourists. Celestia and Draco played magical chess in the hotel dining area. As always, Celestia won—her basilisk queen devouring Draco's knight with a feline smirk.
Meanwhile, Nathael sat with Hermione on the sofa.
"How well do you know the Lumos charm?" he asked casually.
Hermione looked at him, surprised.
"I've mastered it well. Even its variations—Lumos Solem, Lumos Maxima…"
"Have you practiced them in combat with Draco?"
"No… only in class."
Nathael nodded.
"Practice them. Just in case."
Hermione, as always, took out her Hogwarts homework and got to work—potion essays, transfiguration equations, history of magic papers. Nathael occasionally offered subtle guidance: a word in ancient Sanskrit for a formula, a spell variation not in the textbooks, an anecdote about an Egyptian wizard who used runes to purify the Nile.
Hermione listened, eyes shining.
"I'd never thought of it that way…" she kept saying.
"Because books only teach you half," Nathael replied. "The other half… is lived."
As night fell, the town's silence grew strange.
It wasn't just quiet.
It was… absence.
Celestia tensed on the sofa. Her ears pricked forward. Nathael rose slowly, almost imperceptibly.
"What's wrong?" Draco asked, noticing the shift.
Hermione closed her notebook.
Nathael looked at Celestia. She nodded.
"There's magical disturbance," Nathael said. "Something's active."
"The creature?" Hermione asked, wide-eyed.
"Most likely," Nathael said.
They stood. Quickly changed into comfortable clothes—light layers under Muggle coats, fingerless gloves, wands in accessible sheaths.
They left the hotel.
The town was deserted. Streetlights flickered. The air smelled of snow, woodsmoke… and something else. Acidic. Metallic.
They walked in silence—until Draco stopped.
"Look," he whispered, pointing to a traffic light on the corner.
It was malfunctioning—flickering erratically. And beneath it, among the exposed wires, a small creature moved with speed.
Nathael narrowed his eyes.
"What is it?" he asked Draco.
Draco studied it carefully. Though it was night, the snow reflected enough light to see clearly.
It was small—about two to two and a half feet tall. Reptilian, slender, with a large head, bright malicious eyes, long pointed ears, and a wide mouth full of sharp teeth. Its claws tore at the traffic light's cables with precision.
"It's a gremlin," Draco said finally.
Nathael nodded.
"Good eye."
He turned to Hermione.
"Strengths and weaknesses?"
Hermione didn't hesitate.
"They're agile, fast, intelligent. They work in groups and have astonishing physical resilience. But… they're impulsive. Undisciplined. And their greatest weakness…" She paused, looking at Nathael. "Bright light. It can disorient them, burn them… even kill them."
Nathael smiled.
"Exactly. That's why I asked you about Lumos."
He turned to the creature.
"A gremlin comes from a mogwai—a small Chinese creature, about eight to ten inches tall, resembling a stuffed teddy bear. They're calm, peaceful. Many families keep them as pets. But they have three rules that must never be broken."
"No exposure to bright light," Hermione said.
"No getting them wet," Draco added.
"And never, under any circumstances, feed them after midnight," Nathael finished. "Because if that rule is broken… the mogwai transforms into a gremlin."
He looked around.
"And if there's one… there are more. Probably dozens. Our mission isn't just to eliminate them. It's to find the source—the mogwai. Wing, the old man who gave me this task, said it was kind. Responsible. So it's not acting out of malice. Someone left it alone. Someone broke the rules for it."
At that moment, the gremlin saw them.
It froze for an instant.
Then, with a sharp shriek, it charged.
Celestia didn't move. She only flicked her tail.
From her body, a brilliant white light erupted like a miniature sun.
The gremlin screamed, writhed—and within seconds, disintegrated into a puddle of green acid that bubbled and vanished into the snow.
Draco and Hermione stood speechless.
"What… was that?"
"Lumos Solem," Nathael said. "Amplified with ancestral magic. Celestia's been using it since she was three. It's the most effective spell against gremlins. Though Incendio works too… it just takes longer."
He looked at his students.
"Ready?"
Hermione nodded. Draco tightened his grip on his wand.
"We'll find the mogwai," Hermione said.
"And protect it," Draco added.
Nathael smiled.
"Then let's walk."