Ron and Hermione collapsed on the ground, panting heavily.
Charlie descended from mid-air, his wings retracting behind him, eventually disappearing.
He walked over to Harry and patted his shoulder.
"Very good, Harry is the first to pass the test and successfully cast a Patronus."
Harry stared at the silver stag in the air, his eyes shining; everything he had just experienced seemed so insignificant in the face of success.
The stag circled in the air, then dissolved into specks of silver light.
Hermione sat on the ground, her small face flushed, glaring at Charlie.
Her hair was stuck to her forehead with sweat, and her clothes were largely damp.
"You're utterly rotten!" Hermione gritted her teeth.
"Who does things like that, just releasing Dementors without any warning?"
If she weren't so exhausted now that she couldn't even stand up, she would have wanted to rush over and bite that scoundrel to death.
Seeing her expression, Charlie seemed to sense her great reluctance at not yet having successfully cast a Patronus, so he asked,
"It seems Hermione wants some extra practice?"
Hermione exploded.
"Get lost, you scoundrel! Don't touch me!" She grabbed small pebbles from the ground and threw them at Charlie.
Charlie dodged, retracting his hand sheepishly.
Little brat, so rude.
Ron still lay limply on the ground, staring at the ceiling, his eyes vacant.
"Charlie," Ron suddenly spoke.
"Hmm?"
"If we really couldn't hold on, you would save us, right?"
Charlie glanced at him, smiling meaningfully.
"Of course, you silly boy."
Seeing Ron let out a long sigh of relief, Charlie added in his mind, 'But only before you were completely tormented into unconsciousness by the Dementors, otherwise, what kind of facing death would that be?'
With Harry successfully summoning a Patronus, today's training came to an end.
Charlie clapped his hands.
"Alright, that's enough for today. Go back and eat."
The three stumbled out of the box.
Grandma White had already prepared dinner. The table was laden with food, the most prominent being a large plate of freshly baked apple pie and a roasted turkey in the center of the table.
Ron's eyes instantly lit up when he saw the food. He didn't bother to wipe the sweat from his brow and rushed to the table to sit down.
"Grandma, you're my savior," Ron grabbed a piece of apple pie and stuffed it into his mouth.
The warm apple pie melted in his mouth, the crispy crust mixing with the sweet fruit filling.
The sugar quickly dissolved on his tongue, and that feeling of happiness washed away all the despair from earlier.
Hermione also picked up a piece, taking small bites. The sweetness spread in her mouth, and her tense nerves finally relaxed.
Grandma White smiled beside them, serving turkey meat to everyone.
"Eat more, you children are too thin."
The younger brothers and sisters from the Orphanage gathered around the table, chattering away. A small boy tugged on Harry's sleeve, insisting on showing him his drawing.
Harry looked down at the crooked scribble, a smile finally gracing his lips.
Ron had already finished his third slice of apple pie and was slumped in his chair, sighing contentedly.
Charlie raised his cup.
"Merry Christmas."
The others also raised their cups.
"Merry Christmas!"
The next morning, Charlie woke up in bed.
The room was quiet; Storm was not on the windowsill.
It had flown out last night to deliver mail and was probably not finished yet.
Charlie had sent Christmas gifts to all his friends, still the familiar notes from various subjects.
He also prepared gifts for the Professors. The other Professors were easy to please, but Snape always seemed to dislike his gifts.
So Charlie switched to a different brand of shampoo, which was said to be the most famous brand in the magic world.
And Dumbledore, that old man loved to grumble about being old and afraid of the cold, wishing he had a pair of thick, long white wool socks embroidered with a flower.
Charlie, speechless, bought him ten pairs of black ones.
Throughout the day, Owls continuously delivered Christmas gifts.
Charlie signed for each one and unwrapped the packages.
A grey Owl, clutching a thick journal, landed in front of Charlie.
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