A detailed ink-drawn map had unfurled across the blank parchment, its lines and shapes instantly recognizable as the layout of Hogwarts. In the spaces that likely represented corridors, clear names were marked, one after another.
Upon closer inspection, however, it became apparent that while the names of Harry, his friends, Sirius, and Lupin appeared where the Great Totem now stood, there was no indication of any structure in that spot. It was as if they were standing in an open field.
"That's Professor McGonagall's office!" Neville pointed at a section of the map. "Look, she's right there… pacing back and forth?"
"Oh, check this out! It's Fred and George!" Ron said excitedly. "They're near the Forbidden Forest. What are they up to?"
"What do you think, Ron?" Hermione said with a wry look. "I doubt they're doing anything good in the Forbidden Forest. Harry's already banned apprentices from hunting Acromantulas in the winter—so, Sirius, is this your work? How did you make it? What kind of magic did you use?"
Hermione, who had never seen such an extraordinary piece of magic, peppered Sirius with questions. Anyone could see how remarkable this map was. They had even spotted Filch and his cat's names on it. With this map in hand, evading the castle's caretaker would be a breeze.
"Haha! Pretty impressive, right?" Sirius laughed heartily. "The four of us—well, four back then—worked on this together. James and I dug through piles of books from our family libraries. Harry, you can probably spot some of the magic used, can't you? It was a real pain. To make the map track everyone in the castle in real-time, we even had to sneak into the Headmaster's office when Dumbledore wasn't around."
"I can see some of it," Harry nodded. "A Tracking Charm is obvious, and there's a hint of a magical contract in there too."
"Exactly. It does involve a magical contract—you know about the Book of Admittance, right?" Sirius asked.
"Yes," Hermione answered quickly. "It's mentioned in Hogwarts: A History. The names of young witches and wizards in Britain are recorded in it the moment they're born, and when they turn eleven, the school sends them an owl. Is this map connected to that book?"
"Spot on," Sirius said with a shrug. "The Quill of Acceptance and the Book of Admittance. When a child first shows magical talent, the Quill writes their name in the Book, marking them as a Hogwarts student. We went through a lot of trouble to link this map to the Book. Well, Remus would say we actually tapped into the school's own magical contract… I don't fully get it myself. If you're curious, ask Remus. He's the smartest of us."
"You really are a slacker when it comes to studying, Sirius," Hermione said with a disdainful look.
"Guilty as charged!" Sirius grinned, unashamed. "Honestly, Harry, I thought you'd never follow in James's and my footsteps, but finding this map? That's brilliant!"
"What do you mean?" Hermione tilted her head.
"This map shows every secret passage we discovered back then," Sirius explained. "As long as those passages haven't collapsed, Filch can't catch anyone holding it. When we graduated, we wanted to leave it for someone who truly needed it—someone with a rebellious streak, not someone who'd misuse it. So, we hid it in Filch's office. That's where you found it, right, Harry?"
"Actually, no," Harry said, shaking his head with a wry smile. "It was found by two people who really needed it, rebels through and through. They gave it to me."
"Wait!" Ron jolted upright. "Harry, you don't mean—"
"Exactly," Harry nodded. "Fred and George. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs—Sirius, they dug up all your old secrets. They only gave me the map after figuring out who those names belonged to. In their words, it's my father's legacy."
"One-fourth of a legacy," Sirius sighed. "Those twins, huh? They're the ones who remind me most of us at Hogwarts these days… Anyway, use the map well, and whatever you do, don't let McGonagall get her hands on it."
"Absolutely," Ron said, his eyes wide as he imagined the horror. "If McGonagall could see where every student is at any moment… we'd be done for!"
Even Hermione nodded gravely, for once not arguing.
As the group chatted, a knock came at the Great Totem's door. When Harry opened it, there stood Dumbledore, dressed impeccably.
"Headmaster Dumbledore?" Harry asked, surprised.
Dumbledore's attire was more flamboyant than usual today. The lively old wizard had even tied a purple bow in his beard, looking particularly festive.
"Forgive me for interrupting your splendid holiday, Harry," Dumbledore said, though his grin suggested he was anything but sorry. "But if you don't have any pressing matters today, would you mind joining an old man for a little outing?"
"Out?" Harry frowned. "You're hosting the Christmas feast at Hogwarts. You'd miss that?"
Dumbledore loved the bustle of festivities and joking with students. Whether it was the Christmas feast or any other celebration, the old headmaster never missed them, claiming it was part of his duties.
"Oh, I'd never miss those cheerful faces," Dumbledore said, shaking his head with a smile. "I'm merely inviting you to a gathering."
"A gathering?"
"A bunch of old codgers getting together," Dumbledore said, lowering his voice conspiratorially and winking. "Nicolas Flamel, whom you've always wanted to meet, will be there. Tempted, Harry? If so, go change quickly."
Harry blinked. He'd only wanted to meet Nicolas Flamel out of curiosity about magic and alchemy. Why did Dumbledore make it sound so odd?
"Alright, give me a moment," Harry said.
"No rush, but do hurry, Harry. Truth be told, I think we might already be late," Dumbledore said cheerfully, poking his head into the room to wave at the others, especially Hermione. "Don't worry, young lady, I'll have Harry back before the feast begins."
Hermione's face flushed red.
This Christmas, she hadn't gone home, choosing instead to stay at Hogwarts. She wouldn't say she was having a blast, but she was happily devouring books in the library, feeling perfectly at ease.
It didn't take long for Harry to change into formal wizard robes. With a swift Feloop from Fawkes, he and Dumbledore appeared on a desolate cliffside, surrounded by nothing but barren rock.
"Deep in the Pyrenees cliffs, Nicolas Flamel's Vacation Retreat Number Four," Dumbledore murmured.
The moment Harry heard those words, the desolate, wind-swept cliff transformed. A grand manor adorned with an elegant Christmas tree at its entrance seemed to leap out of thin air. The snow on the ground vanished instantly, and faint sounds of laughter and chatter drifted from within. Compared to the wintry chill outside, the manor's climate felt like spring.
"Fidelius Charm?" Harry asked.
"Indeed," Dumbledore replied softly. "Far too many people want to find Nicolas. Immortality is awfully tempting, isn't it?"
"True," Harry nodded. "But if you ever get tired of living and still want to keep going, you could fully ascend into an elemental being. No natural lifespan to worry about then."
Dumbledore froze, caught off guard by this sudden mention of immortality. He hadn't expected such a revelation in this moment and was momentarily thrown.
"An elemental being?" he said, eyes wide. "Like what you did when you killed the basilisk? Can all shamans do that?"
"The spell I used that day was Elemental Ascension," Harry explained seriously. "It lets me temporarily transform my flesh into an elemental form. No need to be so shocked—you've got the talent to try it yourself. But don't get too excited. Only shamans who've mastered the mysteries of the elements can pull it off. Ascension's never easy."
"Well, that's… unexpected," Dumbledore said, his eyes glinting as he shook his head. "Here I thought I was the one surprising you today, but you've turned the tables on me."
"You're welcome," Harry teased. "If you want to thank me, just teach me the Fidelius Charm. I want to hide the Potter Manor."
"Hide the Potter Manor?" Dumbledore paused, surprised. "If Voldemort's skull wasn't still sitting on my desk, I'd think we were back in wartime."
"You always need a truly safe place," Harry said, shaking his head.
"Fair enough, if you've made up your mind," Dumbledore said lightly. "But it's a difficult spell, and hiding an entire manor requires immense magical power."
"Thanks."
"No need to thank me, Harry," Dumbledore chuckled. "I should be thanking you for so casually revealing a path to immortality. You know Voldemort spent his whole life chasing that, even tearing his soul apart for it."
"For people like us who've lived as humans, becoming an elemental isn't all it's cracked up to be," Harry quipped. "Think about it—no more honeydukes, no Cockroach Clusters, no Liquorice Wands, no Chocolate Frogs…"
The more Harry listed, the worse Dumbledore's expression became—until it was clear he was faking it.
"Thank you for the warning, Harry," Dumbledore said, feigning distress. "A life without sweets… that's a nightmare! Hahaha!"
By the end, even Dumbledore couldn't keep up the act and burst into laughter.
"Hey, Albus! I hear that laugh of yours!" An elderly man, looking slightly tipsy, stumbled out of the manor. "Why're you standing at the door? Come join us!"
"Tiberius?" Dumbledore said, slinging an arm around Harry's shoulders as they walked toward the manor. "Looks like you've had a few already. I was just chatting with Harry."
"Ah, Harry Potter," said the wizard named Tiberius Ogden, setting down his glass, which promptly floated back into the house on its own. "You remember me, I hope?"
"Of course, Mr. Ogden," Harry said, shaking his hand. "You spoke to me a lot in the Wizengamot chamber."
"Indeed, I did, until that impatient lot shooed me off," Ogden grumbled. "Anyway, welcome to Nicolas's vacation villa. Don't feel stiff or pressured—just have fun."
"Don't worry, Tiberius," Dumbledore said with a grin. "Harry's far more resilient than you'd think."
"I don't doubt it," Ogden said, slurring slightly. "Professor Potter's a pioneer of new magic. No student's ever done that while still at school. And don't get me started on him taking on the Ministry. What kid has the guts for that?"
They chatted as they entered the manor, stepping into a vast hall clearly expanded by magic. A slow, romantic ballad played, and several elderly couples with white hair danced in the center. The wizards wore outdated robes, some from decades past, giving the scene an ancient charm.
Harry even spotted a few wizards older than Dumbledore, leaning on canes and warming themselves by a corner fireplace, chatting about who-knows-what.
There were no servers. Empty plates floated to their destinations under magical influence, and teapots refilled cups on their own—a whimsical, fairy-tale-like scene.
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