WINTER AT HOGWARTS
CHAPTER 26 : WINTER AT HOGWARTS
The professors gathered in the staff room, settling into their chairs as Dumbledore began to speak. The soft crackle of the enchanted fireplace filled the room with a quiet warmth, yet the air was charged with the usual anticipation.
"Now that our first term is concluding," Dumbledore began, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon glasses, "I would like to bring our usual meeting to session. How has everything gone so far?"
There was a brief murmur among the professors as they began sharing updates on the term’s events, from lively Quidditch matches to the daily triumphs and challenges in their classes. Laughter and nods were exchanged, until Professor McGonagall’s voice broke through, more serious than usual.
"I regret to bring this up, Albus, but there have been some concerning incidents," McGonagall said, her lips pressed thin. "Several cases of bullying have gone too far already. Some Slytherin students appear to have taken advantage of the lighter punishment policy. Real harm was done to a few students."
Snape, leaning back with his arms folded, raised an eyebrow. "I was informed that on one of these occasions, the other party cast the first spell," he retorted, his voice smooth yet cutting.
"Because that poor child was being physically harassed by students from your house, Severus!" McGonagall replied, her eyes flashing. "What choice did he have?"
Dumbledore gently raised a hand, cutting off the brewing argument. “Minerva, Severus, you both understand why this policy is in place. We’re trying to prevent old hostilities from further dividing the houses. I cannot allow others to openly attack Slytherins for the actions of the Death Eaters. If the current policy isn’t working as intended, we can discuss adjustments, but I do need your support in this matter.”
McGonagall pursed her lips, clearly holding back further words out of respect. She nodded curtly, though her stern gaze didn’t falter as she looked back at Snape.
Breaking the tension, Dumbledore continued, "Let’s hear how classes have been going, then, shall we?"
Professor Flitwick’s face brightened as he chimed in, "Oh, it's been a delight, Headmaster! I have a particularly talented group of first years this year. There’s a young Mister Calaway in my Charms Club—a very promising student. He’s the only one from the group to show real interest so far, but what a bright spirit he is!"
Professor Sprout joined in, her round face glowing with pride. "Two from your house, Filius, have shown an impressive aptitude in Herbology. Mister Ward and young Mister Bones—absolute naturals in the greenhouses. It's as if the plants listen to them!"
McGonagall's expression softened as she spoke. "Yes, Mister Bones has been quite impressive in Transfiguration as well. Mister Calaway, too. There's another, Miss Travers, who seems to have some sort of rivalry with Mister Bones. Not that it bothers him much," she added with a slight smile. "He finishes his own work quickly and spends his time helping other students—those who are open to it, at least."
Flitwick clapped his hands together. "Oh, precisely! He does the same in my classes. A Ravenclaw through and through, yet he has no reservations about assisting students from other houses. It's been rather inspiring, if I may say so."
Sprout chuckled warmly. "Mister Bones seems to have a knack for guiding his classmates in my class as well. I daresay he would’ve made a fine Hufflepuff, if you ask me!"
Snape, who had been listening quietly, narrowed his eyes, his voice low and sharp. "Bones may be talented, but the child is arrogant. He never bothers with reading instructions or following any process—always doing things his way, and flaunting it by helping others instead of focusing on his own work. It reeks of showboating."
A murmur of disagreement rippled through the room, though Dumbledore merely tilted his head, studying Snape with an unreadable expression.
"Severus," McGonagall said in a gentler tone, "it's possible the boy simply wants to help. Sometimes, students act out of a genuine desire to connect."
Snape’s gaze remained cold, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Perhaps, but if his approach continues to disrupt the structure of my lessons, there will be consequences."
Dumbledore intervened, his voice as soft as it was resolute. "Let us encourage all our students, both the enthusiastic and the more reserved, to focus on their own growth. And if there are improvements to be made in any student's behavior, we should guide them with patience. Now, do any other students stand out this term?"
The discussion shifted to other students, with each professor sharing stories of first-year successes, minor mishaps, and unexpected talents. The mood lifted, and the professors began to laugh once more, trading tales of charms gone wrong, plants mysteriously uprooted, and transfigurations that hadn’t quite gone as planned.
As the meeting wrapped up, Dumbledore’s gaze lingered thoughtfully on Snape. With a curious tilt of his head, he asked, “Then why have I not seen any point deductions, Severus? I don’t recall you having such… hesitations in the past.”
Snape’s expression twisted as though he’d swallowed something distasteful. “He is, unfortunately, a competent potions maker, Headmaster. The boy takes the liberty of ‘adjusting’ recipes to his liking, yet the modifications are often improvements. It leaves me with no valid grounds to deduct points.”
Flitwick’s eyes widened with interest, a small, excited squeak escaping him. “A boy his age, modifying potions with valid results—remarkable!”
Dumbledore, however, leaned back, his eyes narrowing almost imperceptibly. “Intriguing indeed. He has also seemed a touch distracted during my Astronomy classes,” Professor Sinistra remarked thoughtfully. “But his assignments are immaculate, and he performs admirably on tests.”
McGonagall nodded, an approving smile playing on her lips. “His work shows an impressive knack for merging complex theories into simpler, practical spells. Some of his homework assignments… well, they make you think.” She chuckled softly, as if recalling a particularly inventive answer.
Snape’s frown only deepened. “He disregards basic instructions, submitting elaborate essays filled with citations from advanced texts. I assign three feet; he hands in eight, crammed with details that he clearly lifted to impress.”
Flitwick stifled a laugh. “It sounds like he’s especially enthusiastic about Potions, Severus. Perhaps he’s just trying to engage you,” he added with a glint of mischief.
“Thank you for your reports, everyone,” Dumbledore said with a thoughtful smile. “Let us hope that this promising young man, along with the rest of our students, continues to excel in the coming term. Minerva, Severus, would you mind staying behind for a moment?”
The other professors murmured their farewells, exchanging warm holiday wishes as they prepared for the break. The staff room quieted, and Dumbledore, hands clasped in front of him, turned to the two waiting professors.
“What is it you wish to discuss, Albus?” McGonagall asked, curiosity flickering across her face.
“I’m curious about Mister Bones outside of class,” Dumbledore said, studying them with a sharper gaze than usual.
McGonagall’s surprise was brief. “I’ve observed that he spends a considerable amount of time studying on his own,” she replied thoughtfully. “And when he’s not working, he’s often in the company of Mister Calaway and Mister Ward. They seem to enjoy combing the library or exploring the grounds, hunting for anything that piques their interest.”
Snape’s lip curled slightly. “He has also taken to helping Miss Tonks execute a variety of pranks around the castle. And,” he added with a hint of frustration, “he has shown an exceptional degree of involvement in said pranks. If he had any reservations, I certainly didn’t see them.”
Dumbledore nodded, his fingers steepled as he absorbed this information. “It seems he’s navigating his own path here at Hogwarts—one of remarkable talent, but also of… unpredictability,” he said, his voice grave. “You both know what he’s been through. I would like each of you to continue observing him closely. Ensure he doesn’t stray onto a path he may later regret.”
Snape and McGonagall exchanged a look, each understanding the headmaster’s concern. “Of course, Albus,” McGonagall replied, her tone resolute. “We’ll watch him carefully.”
As the conversation in Dumbledore’s office concluded, the atmosphere between McGonagall and Snape was thoughtful yet tense. McGonagall’s disapproval was plain as she faced Dumbledore.
“You can’t be serious, Albus,” she protested. “Mister Bones has been nothing but a positive influence on those around him. He goes out of his way to help others.”
Dumbledore held her gaze, a solemn glint in his eyes. “That, Minerva, is precisely why we must keep an eye on him. He’s seen the darker side of our world, and while he has shown resilience, the temptations of what he’s encountered may still linger. His skills are formidable, and I don’t want his past experiences pulling him down a dangerous path.”
Snape gave a curt nod. “Headmaster, it may prove challenging. Bones has powerful Occlumency defenses and is remarkably perceptive. He’ll notice if we scrutinize him too closely.”
Dumbledore nodded in understanding. “This is only a precaution, nothing drastic,” he reassured them both. “We’re simply being vigilant. I trust that neither of you will make him feel watched. Now,” he added with a warm smile as he rose from his seat, “let me not keep you any longer. I wish you both a pleasant holiday.”
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Back to Ares’s POV
The bustling noise of the platform was barely audible before I heard a familiar voice pierce through the crowd.
“Brother! You’re back!” Susan’s joyful shout preceded her full-speed sprint as she launched herself into my arms.
I laughed, catching her as she nearly toppled me over. “Yes, I’m back, little sis. And guess what—I brought treats!” I reached into my pocket and produced an assortment of candies I’d saved from the train.
“You’re the best!” She practically squealed, her eyes sparkling as she snatched her prize.
I turned to Aunt Amelia and Tilly, grinning. “Hi, Aunty, Tilly. It’s good to see you both.”
Amelia’s stern but kind face softened, and she hugged me warmly. “Welcome home, Ares. We’ve missed you.”
“Young Master!” Tilly’s squeak was filled with delight as she returned the unexpected hug, her wide eyes shimmering with joy.
Aunt Amelia’s smile turned almost motherly as she placed a hand on my shoulder. “Let’s get you home, Ares. I’m sure you’re looking forward to a proper rest.”
I nodded, feeling a familiar warmth settle over me. “Yeah, I am.”
The holidays brought a refreshing pause from classes and studies, and I threw myself into spending time with my family. I’d even set my books aside to enjoy some days without the pressure of schoolwork. During one snowy morning, I found myself inspecting the garden, where I saw that Susan and Tilly had taken excellent care of it in my absence. It was thriving, even in the winter chill.
Thanks to Aunt Amelia’s magical clearance on the property, I could freely practice spells. I decided to make the most of it, and Susan, eager as always, was my enthusiastic audience. Enchanting a flurry of snow to whirl around us, I coaxed it into shapes—dancing stars, twinkling lights, and even a snowman that ambled across the yard, waving its stick arms.
“Look, it’s alive!” Susan gasped, her eyes wide as the snowman performed a clumsy jig.
I grinned, caught up in her joy. “Only for today, though. Snowmen aren’t meant to last forever.”
Christmas that year was a warm, joyful affair, just the four of us gathered around the cozy glow of the fireplace, sharing gifts that were as thoughtful as they were meaningful. I’d spent time planning the presents, and seeing everyone’s reactions was worth every effort.
For Susan, who had developed a deep interest in Herbology thanks to my own enthusiasm, I’d managed to find a beautiful Dittany plant. Its delicate leaves and powerful restorative properties made it an expensive and rare gift, but Susan’s wide-eyed excitement made it clear that it was the perfect choice. She hugged me so tightly I thought my ribs might crack.
Tilly, ever the loyal house-elf, had grown fond of anything bearing the Bones family crest, taking immense pride in the honor of serving our household. So, I had a badge made with our family crest and motto for her to wear. When I handed it to her, she took one look, gasped, and promptly fainted from joy. I grinned, thinking that maybe I should have warned her first.
And for Aunt Amelia, I’d gone to considerable effort to find something unique: an ancient, weathered book of wizarding laws dating back to Merlin’s era. When she unwrapped it, her usually composed face lit up with a look of pure wonder, and for the first time, I witnessed what a giddy aunt looked like. She kept fidgeting and glancing down at the book, her eyes bright with excitement as she carefully tried to maintain her usual dignified expression.
My own gifts, however, left me just as surprised. Aunt Amelia presented me with a copy of the official Auror training manual, a rare find considering her usual stance on my studies and safety. It was a glimpse into the life she once led and perhaps an acknowledgment of the path I might want to walk someday. I caught her eye, and she gave me a knowing smile that told me she understood more than I’d thought.
From Susan, I received a beautifully illustrated book on Phoenixes—an impressive find and a testament to how well she knew me. Tilly, sweet and thoughtful as ever, proudly handed me a set of cozy winter clothes she’d sewn herself, each piece soft and perfectly tailored. I gave her a heartfelt hug, watching her blush in happiness.
The holidays kept getting better with the arrival of gifts from my friends. James surprised me with a set of Sherlock Holmes books, which I’d recently discovered I enjoyed quite a lot. To show my appreciation, I’d sent him a small book of useful and interesting charms I’d come across in my studies, hoping he’d find some of them just as fascinating. Christian’s gift was a signed book on lesser-known magical creatures and their habitats, a treasure trove of information even I hadn’t come across before. In return, I sent him a homework-quill charmed to write faster and withstand hours of work without dulling—a gift I knew he’d appreciate, given his abSALute disdain for assignments, which he feels steal his freedom like nothing else.
Tonks, as expected, kept things lively with a box full of prank supplies from Zonko's. I’d had to laugh; it was just like her to add some chaos to the holiday. I sent her a few of my own custom potions recipes along with sample vials to fuel her prank arsenal—safe enough for her purposes, but effective in all the ways that counted.
There was one oddity, though: a large collection of packages stuffed with chocolates, none bearing a sender’s name. Aunt Amelia raised an eyebrow as the boxes piled up, and Tilly diligently checked each one to make sure nothing harmful was hidden inside. Thankfully, they turned out to be harmless, but it left me with enough chocolate to last until summer and with some curious looks from my aunt.
I spent the rest of the break in peace, enjoying the warmth of family and catching up on some relaxation. Of course, I did take a bit of time to visit Gringotts, just to check on my investments and move a bit of money around as necessary. And while I was there, I ordered a ring made from the same materials as my custom knife. I’d recently read about a technique to link the two so that the knife could be directed remotely through the resonance of matching materials. With both items crafted from the same elements, I’d be able to guide the knife with far greater precision and control using the ring—a small, exciting project to look forward to.
The holidays, filled with family, friends, and gifts both thoughtful and practical, were shaping up to be the perfect break. I knew the new term would bring new challenges, but for now, I could simply enjoy the calm.
As the days passed, I settled into the cozy rhythm of the break, filling my time with little projects, reading, and, of course, catching up on sleep. Susan was thrilled with her new Dittany plant, and every morning she’d excitedly show me its progress, carefully noting each new leaf and any changes. I found myself looking forward to these little moments, the way she would light up whenever I praised her efforts.
The ring I ordered from Gringotts arrived a few days later, just as I’d imagined: smooth, understated, and perfectly sized. I was eager to test out the connection with my knife. With the quiet that comes with winter evenings, I took the ring and knife to our sitting room to start enchanting them. Linking the two was delicate work—runic inscriptions on both the blade and the band took the better part of a day to carve and charm. But by the time I was finished, I could feel the resonance humming softly between them. With a flick of my wrist, the knife hovered, turning and tilting as I guided it with the ring, moving it with only a thought. It would be a handy skill to have, though, of course, I’d have to keep it a secret in class.
The days grew colder, and snow blanketed the grounds outside, transforming everything into a pristine white landscape. Susan and I spent hours outside, building snow creatures and enchanting them to dance around, making up ridiculous stories for each one as they spun and tumbled. Aunt Amelia even joined us one afternoon, bundled up in her winter cloak and scarf, watching with a rare smile as Susan laughed and squealed.
With Christmas behind us, Aunt Amelia subtly started preparing me for the upcoming term, quizzing me on charms, defensive spells, and potions recipes as we sat together in the evenings. It was nice, in a way, to have someone like her take an interest in my progress. Her gentle but firm corrections reminded me of just how much she cared, and I felt a fresh determination to excel in the coming months.
On New Year’s Eve, we gathered in the parlor for a quiet celebration. Aunt Amelia raised a toast to "new beginnings," and Susan happily clinked her glass of pumpkin juice with ours. As the clock struck midnight, I couldn’t help but think about everything that lay ahead. The new term, with all its challenges and unknowns, was right around the corner, but for once, I felt ready. I had family, friends, and a fresh start—and maybe, just maybe, that would be enough.
With the break winding down, I found myself itching to get back to school, curious about what new experiences awaited me. As much as I treasured my time here, I was eager to return, to test out new spells, refine old ones, and deepen my studies. And with the ring on my finger, humming with potential, I felt a renewed sense of confidence, ready to face whatever came next.