Nathael opened his bedroom door with the faintest hint of a smile. Celestia followed him out, already wearing her new designer cloak—dark blue velvet with silver edging—and her tail held high, as if she had all morning in the world to admire the miracle of Christmas.
"I'm a bit hungry," she said, yawning with feline elegance.
"Me too," Nathael replied, adjusting the white shirt he wore beneath his black jacket.
Before they could take another step, the door next to theirs opened softly.
Kate stepped out, her hair slightly tousled and a shy smile on her lips. When she saw them, her eyes lit up. Without hesitation, she hugged Celestia first, who—gracefully rising onto her hind legs—wrapped her front paws around Kate as if she'd done it a thousand times before.
"Merry Christmas!" Kate exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion.
"Merry Christmas," Nathael and Celestia said in unison.
Kate pulled back slightly, eyes glistening.
"The gifts… they were beautiful. That magical sketchbook… everything I draw comes to life. It's as if I can create whole worlds with just a stroke. And the quill…" She looked at Celestia. "It never runs out of ink, and I draw without mistakes. It's… magical."
Celestia arched an eyebrow, though her gaze was soft.
"It's nothing," she said. "We're family, after all."
Nathael smiled—but before he could add anything, a metallic clatter came from the kitchen.
The three exchanged glances.
"What was that?" Kate asked, a little startled.
"Nothing to worry about," Nathael said, though his eyes were already alert.
"Of course not," Celestia purred, as if she'd expected it all along.
They walked to the kitchen and stopped in the doorway.
There, in the center of the room, knives, ladles, trays, and frying pans floated midair, moving with precise coordination. At the heart of it all stood a small creature with pointed ears, bulging eyes, and neat, well-tailored clothes—a green tunic with golden trim—directing the chaos with swift, tiny hand movements.
Kate paled and ducked behind Nathael.
"What… what is that?"
Nathael, however, wasn't surprised by the presence of a house-elf.
What left him speechless was who it was.
"Flipsy?"
The elf spun around instantly, her eyes widening even further, and let out a joyful squeal.
"Master Nathael! Miss Celestia!" she cried, bowing deeply. "Merry Christmas! Flipsy is so, so grateful to have been chosen to prepare the Christmas dinner! It is a great honor!"
Nathael turned slowly toward Celestia.
"Was this your idea?"
Celestia licked a paw, satisfied.
"Of course. I wasn't about to let our Christmas dinner turn into a culinary disaster."
She glanced at Kate with a sly smile.
"No offense, Kate. You cook very well… for a Muggle. But my tastes on special occasions are… unique."
Kate laughed, not offended in the least.
"Don't worry. I already know what you're like."
Celestia nodded, pleased, and turned to Flipsy.
"Did you bring what I asked for?"
"Yes, Miss Celestia!" the elf chirped excitedly. "Aged elf-made wine from the finest vineyards in Spain! A turkey raised on fine herbs and fed with love! Hippogriff meat, Norwegian smoked salmon, Brazil nuts, and apple pie with vanilla ice cream for dessert!"
Nathael blinked, impressed.
"When did you order all this? I didn't even notice."
Celestia lifted her chin proudly.
"I've told you before—I'm swift and silent."
Just then, Carrie appeared in the hallway. Her eyes were damp, and she still held her wand in one hand—as if Nathael's gift, a state-of-the-art magical camera (lightweight, perfect resolution, capable of recording moving images), had touched her more deeply than she could express.
When she entered the kitchen and saw Flipsy, she froze. Instinctively, her hand went to her wand.
Nathael smiled tenderly.
"Merry Christmas, Carrie. Don't worry—it's Flipsy, a house-elf from the Grauheim Manor. She came to prepare our Christmas dinner… at Celestia's request."
Celestia nodded with a gentle smile.
Carrie relaxed her shoulders and smiled.
"Thank you… for everything."
They spent the rest of the day playing board games in the living room. As always, Celestia won every match. Nathael came in a close second, sharing a knowing smile with her. Kate won once—and celebrated as if she'd conquered the world. Carrie didn't win a single game… but she laughed more than she remembered ever laughing in her life.
In a quiet moment, Carrie picked up her new camera and snapped a photo. In it, the four of them sat around the low table, steaming mugs of hot chocolate in hand, cheeks flushed from laughter, and Celestia wearing her trademark look of smug satisfaction after yet another victory. The photo was already animated: Nathael ruffled Kate's hair; Carrie covered her face in mock embarrassment; and Celestia purred proudly.
"Perfect," Carrie murmured.
At dusk, Flipsy entered with an exaggerated bow.
"Dinner is ready!"
Everyone rose with excitement and walked into the dining room. The table was covered with an immaculate white cloth, fine porcelain dishes, crystal glasses, and floating candles that bathed each face in warm, golden light. The plates steamed, filled with aromas that promised an unforgettable evening.
Kate and Carrie exchanged awed glances.
"It looks… incredible," Kate whispered.
"Delicious," Carrie added.
Celestia gave a satisfied nod.
"It's not bad."
Flipsy jumped for joy.
"Miss Celestia says so! Then it must be perfect!"
Everyone laughed.
Nathael turned to the elf.
"Flipsy, sit with us. You've worked too hard. You deserve to enjoy your own dinner."
But Flipsy paled and stepped back, offended.
"Oh no, no, no, Master Nathael! A house-elf cannot sit at the table of a Grauheim! It would be an offense! A disgrace!"
Nathael sighed. Though at Grauheim Manor, house-elves were treated with respect—dressed with dignity and valued as family—they still carried in their bones the deep-rooted belief in their own inferiority. To them, sharing a table with wizards was sacrilege.
"I understand," Nathael said gently.
He raised his wand and, with an elegant flick, conjured a small table nearby—complete with a chair, a plate, and a glass.
"Then sit here. It's not the main table. But it's yours. And you deserve to enjoy what you've created."
Flipsy hesitated—but saw the wisdom in it. With a trembling bow, she took her seat.
Carrie smiled, looking at Nathael with admiration.
I want to be like him, she thought. To treat others with dignity, no matter who they are.
Nathael cleared his throat and spoke, his voice soft yet firm.
"A few months ago, we were no more than strangers. Celestia and I were alone, traveling the world, seeking treasures, living on the edges of everything. We had no purpose—just paths. But then, everything changed. You arrived. First Hermione, then Draco, then Kate, and you, Carrie. It wasn't planned. It wasn't sought. It was… natural. As if the world knew we needed to find each other. And tonight, on this Christmas Eve, we are not just wizards and Muggles, pure-bloods or Muggle-borns, hunters, students, or artists. We are a family. Not by blood or lineage—but because we chose to be together. Because we saw each other, accepted each other, and decided to walk side by side—even when the road grows dark. So… thank you. For choosing me. For trusting me. For being my home."
A warm silence filled the room—full of knowing glances and sincere smiles.
Then Nathael raised his glass.
"Let's eat."
And so, in that stone cottage in the heart of snowy Hogsmeade, four souls and one house-elf shared a dinner they would not forget for many years to come.