Unlike the cozy, small Christmas party at the Lovegood's house, the Christmas feast at Hogwarts could only be described with one word: magnificent.
A hundred roast turkeys, mountains of roast and boiled potatoes, platters of chipolatas, tureens of buttered peas, and silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce. The lavish spread was enough to make anyone's mouth water.
Every few feet along the tables, there were huge piles of Wizard Crackers waiting. These magical crackers were nothing like the flimsy Muggle ones, which usually contained only small plastic toys and flimsy paper hats.
Harry and Fred pulled a Wizard Cracker txogether. It didn't go off with a dull pop but with a blast like a cannon, engulfing them in a cloud of blue smoke while a rear-admiral's hat and several live, white mice exploded out of it.
At the head table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just told him.
After the main course came the flaming Christmas puddings. Occasionally, someone would find a silver sickle inside. Percy was lucky enough to get one, nearly chipping his neat front teeth in the process.
"Albus, look at those Christmas trees. They are a small gift Mr. Maclean left for us before he left," Professor McGonagall said, gently tapping Dumbledore's elbow. She was giggling, her usual stern demeanor completely gone.
"Oh, lovely. A truly fine boy," Dumbledore said, nodding happily as he admired the festive trees.
Professor Flitwick chimed in, pointing out Marcel's little decorations one by one to Dumbledore, clearly very pleased with his outstanding student.
Snape, seated at the far end, remained as cold as ever amidst the universal celebration. He stared at the mist-wreathed Christmas trees, his thoughts unreadable.
Just as everyone was in high spirits, a flock of owls flew in from outside the Great Hall, carrying various packages and dispersing in all directions.
"What's going on?"
Even the professors were confused as to why the owls had arrived at this time. Only Dumbledore watched the scene with a smile, a look of gratification on his face.
Before long, those who received the packages understood. They were Christmas presents from Marcel Maclean.
"When did he learn this sort of trick from the Weasley twins?" Snape said coldly, just as a small package landed right in front of him.
Snape frowned, tore open the multi-layered wrapping, and then stared, transfixed, at what was inside. It was a vial of Felix Felicis.
A single successful brewing of Felix Felicis typically yields only a thumb-sized amount. The process is extremely complex, with the average brewing time being six months.
Marcel, inspired by his discussions with Snape, had managed to shorten the brewing time to two months, but the trade-off was a sharp decrease in the potion's effectiveness.
This Christmas, Marcel had spent a considerable number of Galleons to buy this full-strength vial of Felix Felicis from his business partner as a Christmas gift for Snape. It was Marcel's sincere way of thanking Snape for his patient guidance.
If the gift Marcel prepared for Luna was the one that took the most time, then this gift for Snape was undoubtedly the most expensive.
Snape uncorked the vial, held it to his nose to smell it, and then silently put the cork back in.
"I was right, wasn't I, Severus?" Dumbledore said to Snape with a smile.
Snape's mouth twitched. He replied with a blank expression, "He just knows how to spend money."
Putting aside the situation at the head table, students below had also received gifts from Marcel.
Hermione, for example, was currently hugging a plush cartoon lion, reading a small note Marcel had left on it. The plush toy was filled with Dream-flower seeds, which could improve sleep quality. The note reminded her to rest well amidst her diligent studies.
Ron received a brand-new set of Wizard Battle Chess. This was a product of Marcel's Transfiguration practice. Unlike regular Wizard's Chess, this was a board game where various powerful magical creatures and wizards battled each other. It looked incredibly cool.
Harry, however, found that his gift seemed to be the most peculiar of the three.
"What's this? Oc-clu-men-cy?" Harry read the words on the cover of the notebook he had unwrapped, sounding them out one by one.
"Occlumency?" Hermione asked curiously. "What's that?"
Harry casually flipped through the contents and found that it was a handwritten journal by Marcel. The theories recorded inside were so complex that they made his head spin.
"Let me see," Hermione said, snatching it away and began to read it carefully.
While Hermione was engrossed in the journal, Ron and Harry began to guess.
"Marcel wants you to learn this... Occlu... mency thing, right?" Ron said. "What's it for?"
Harry shook his head. How was he supposed to know? He had never heard of it before.
"So are you going to learn it?" Ron asked again. "If Marcel wants you to learn it, it must be the right thing to do."
It seemed Marcel's earlier guess was correct. Ron wouldn't stay mad at him for more than three days.
"Well, let's figure out what it is first, shall we?" Harry said, and he and Ron both looked at Hermione again.
After a while, Hermione looked up, a puzzled expression on her face.
"According to Marcel's notes in the first few pages, this magic called 'Occlumency' is a defensive magic used to resist external mental penetration and prevent others from reading the user's mind," Hermione said. "It says here that it's highly resistant to a spell called 'Legilimency'."
"But what's the use of that? Who would want to read my mind?" Harry asked, confused.
"Who knows? I suppose we'll have to ask Marcel himself," Hermione said, equally puzzled.
Only Ron didn't seem too concerned. He said with a laugh, "If Marcel says you should learn it, then you should. He's always right."
While the Gryffindor trio was engrossed in their discussion, a student at the distant Slytherin table had also received a gift from Marcel.
"That little weirdo Blois got one too? What's going on?" the little snakes were whispering among themselves, though no one wanted to talk to her.
The recipient of the gift was indeed the mysterious girl with a very low presence in the school, Villie de Blois.
Villie expressionlessly unwrapped the package and placed the gift inside flat on the table. She had also received a notebook, but it was thicker, larger, and sturdier.
She opened the notebook. Inside, written in a neat and concise style, were records of various plants: their botanical history, ecological distribution, cultivation methods, and practical value. It was clear that Marcel had put a lot of thought into this gift as well; he had transcribed a copy of his own notes for Villie.
The latter half of the notebook was still blank, clearly intended for Villie, who was not good at summarizing, to continue recording in the same format.
Villie gently stroked the cover of the notebook. Although her face still showed no emotion, it was enough for anyone to see that she truly loved this thoughtful gift.
"Thank you," Villie's voice was so low that she probably couldn't even hear it herself. But it was the first time she had ever spoken words of gratitude. Unfortunately, Marcel was not there to hear it.
There were too many puzzling things about this mysterious girl. Her lack of emotion was frightening, her scarcity of words was baffling, and her exquisite features created an almost inhuman illusion. All signs indicated that she was hiding many secrets, but no one knew the truth.
And this was probably the very reason Marcel was so interested in her.
Now, for the first time, this mysterious girl had shown a crack in her emotional expression, but Marcel was far away at the Lovegood's house.
It was, without a doubt, a pity.
When everyone's attention returned to the dining table, all that had just happened gradually faded, melting back into the once-again fiery atmosphere of Christmas.
After everyone had spent the afternoon playing wildly, the seemingly calm but secretly turbulent night was about to begin.
This was the best Christmas Harry had ever had. But the one thing that had been lingering in his mind all day, refusing to disappear, came rushing back after he lay down in bed.
He was thinking about the mysterious Christmas gift he had received that morning: the Invisibility Cloak, and the unknown person who had sent it.
Sending Christmas gifts during the feast like Marcel did was an exception. Usually, you would find them by the fireplace or at the foot of your bed when you woke up on Christmas morning.
Harry hadn't expected to receive any presents this morning, but when he woke up, he found he had received quite a few. The most surprising among them was an Invisibility Cloak sent by an anonymous person.
A note had been left inside, which read: Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. A very Merry Christmas to you.
The beautiful, flowing handwriting was pleasing to the eye, but the content had left Harry pondering all day.
At this moment, Ron, stuffed with turkey and cake and untroubled by any strange occurrences, had fallen asleep almost as soon as he had drawn the curtains of his bed. The speed at which he fell asleep made Harry a little jealous.
Harry tossed and turned in his bed, and finally, he leaned over the side and pulled the Invisibility Cloak out from under it.