Ron stared longingly at Harry and Hermione, envy written all over his face. This Christmas, he'd be stuck at Hogwarts.
He could've gone home too—but who would've thought Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would suddenly decide to go to Romania to visit his second brother, Charlie?
With no choice, Ron and his twin brothers could only stay at Hogwarts.
Ron curled his lip and said sourly, "I'm really jealous of you two. Great—everyone's leaving. These next few days, I'm going to be lonely as hell."
He kept rambling as he spoke, but the whole time his eyes were fixed on Harry, shimmering like they were holding a little pool of water—so full of hope it was impossible to hide.
It was obvious what he wanted: to go with Harry.
He'd been curious about the Muggle world for ages. All those strange new things seemed to itch at his heart like they had magic of their own, and he was dying to tag along with Harry and see everything for himself.
But Harry acted like he didn't see Ron's hopeful look at all, completely ignoring him.
Normally, bringing Ron along wouldn't be a big deal—but this time was different. If Ron went back with him, how was he supposed to run experiments?
And more than that, this holiday Harry didn't just plan to do experiments—he also planned to take a trip to Knockturn Alley.
That infamous alley hid plenty of dark wizards with crimes to their names, and in Harry's eyes, they were simply excellent "magical materials."
As disposable test subjects, they had immeasurable value for his research and experiments.
Yes, Harry was kind—but his kindness had very clear boundaries, and it was only given to people who were upright and good.
Under the careful guidance of the Sorcerer Supreme, Harry had long since learned where the line between good and evil lay. Toward those who did evil, he would never be softhearted, and he certainly wouldn't offer even a shred of goodwill.
How did that saying go again?
Kindness to your enemy is cruelty to yourself.
That day, the moment Potions class ended, Harry—like always—latched onto Snape, asking him questions about potions.
The more Harry understood Snape, the better his opinion of him became. He'd realized Snape was an absolute treasure trove.
Snape wasn't the sort of Potions master who shut himself in a box. His thinking was never chained by tradition.
Over the past decades, he'd accumulated a huge number of fresh, unusual ideas about potion-making.
Some of those ideas he'd managed to put into practice, while others—limited by current conditions—had never been realized. Snape had written them down in detail and preserved them carefully.
Those priceless thoughts kept giving Harry inspiration. Every time he learned a new one, it sparked a brand-new burst of insight.
And beyond that, Snape's deep, vast knowledge helped reinforce Harry's own potion system—filling gaps, correcting weaknesses.
When Harry finally left the dungeon classroom, he found Ron, Hermione, and Hagrid together, and Ron seemed to be in a conflict with Malfoy.
Malfoy shot Ron a disdainful look, a mocking smile tugging at his mouth, then turned to Crabbe and Goyle and said, "I really feel sorry for certain people. They have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because their families don't want them!"
Everyone could tell exactly who Malfoy meant. Crabbe and Goyle immediately burst out laughing along with him, guffawing loudly without the slightest restraint.
Then Malfoy didn't even bother hiding it. He swaggered right up to Ron. Seeing Ron helping Hagrid drag a fir tree, Malfoy sneered,
"Well, well. If it isn't poor Weasley. Could you move? You're blocking the passage."
Before he even finished, it was like he'd thought of something nastier. A sly grin spread across his face.
"Oh, I get it. Trying to earn a few coins, are you? Let me guess—you're hoping that after you graduate Hogwarts, you can go and guard the grounds too. I mean, Hagrid's hut is a lot better than that place you call home!"
They were teenagers—hot-blooded by nature. How could Ron endure Malfoy insulting him to his face without doing anything?
In an instant, anger rushed up and drowned out his reason. Without thinking about consequences, he lunged straight at Malfoy.
And at that exact moment, Snape and Harry came down the staircase, the chaotic scene dropping into both their sight at once.
Snape didn't hesitate for even a second. Almost like a reflex, he immediately sided with Malfoy.
His face tightened as he snapped, "Weasley!"
Ron jolted at the sudden roar from that greasy old bat. His hand went slack like he'd been shocked, letting go of the front of Malfoy's robes.
When Ron turned back, he met Snape's disgusted gaze beneath that hooked nose and instantly went rigid with fear, his face cycling between pale and flushed.
Hagrid hurriedly poked his shaggy head out from behind the fir tree, protesting anxiously on Ron's behalf. "Malfoy started it. He insulted Ron's family."
"Regardless, resorting to violence violates school rules, Hagrid," Snape said smoothly without even lifting his eyelids. "Five points from Gryffindor."
Malfoy had "won," yet there wasn't the slightest joy on his face.
By chance, he lifted his eyes and noticed Harry beside Snape, staring at him—staring hard. The look was calm, but it carried weight, and it made Malfoy's scalp prickle.
He'd only dared to taunt Ron because Harry hadn't been there. If Harry had been present, Malfoy wouldn't have dared act so wildly even if he had ten times the courage.
Malfoy left with Crabbe and Goyle. Ron stood where he was, glaring at Malfoy's back, grinding his teeth. "I'm going to teach him a lesson. One day I'll show him what I can do!"
Harry watched quietly from the side. He had no intention of stepping into Ron and Malfoy's childish squabbles—Ron needed to handle that himself.
Harry, meanwhile, was calculating something else. Before the Christmas holiday arrived, he planned to find a chance to lay things out with Malfoy and ask whether he wanted to borrow.
This holiday would be just enough time for Malfoy to think it over.
"Alright, cheer up," Hagrid said, patting Ron's shoulder. "Christmas is nearly here. You lot—come with me to the Great Hall and have a look. It's something else, it really is!"
So Harry, Hermione, and Ron followed Hagrid to the Great Hall together.
Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were already there, busy putting up Christmas decorations.
When McGonagall saw Hagrid, she said in delight, "Ah, Hagrid—so the last tree's been brought in. Can we put it in that corner over there?"
"Of course!"
The Great Hall looked magnificent—so beautiful it was hard to look away.
Holly and mistletoe twined across the ceiling, woven into long garlands that layered and draped in careful tiers like green waterfalls pouring down.
Around the hall stood twelve tall Christmas trees. Some were hung with sparkling little icicles that glittered like stars in the candlelight.
Others were dotted with hundreds of candles in different sizes and colors, flickering with warm, gentle light.
"How many days until the holidays?" Hagrid asked suddenly.
"Only one," Hermione answered.
Their eyes shifted to Professor Flitwick. The short dueling master stood on a chair, flicking his wand to spray strings of golden bubbles.
Under the hall's magical lighting, the bubbles looked like flowing gems. They floated up and drifted lazily, finally settling softly on the branches of the newly carried-in Christmas tree.
After dinner, Harry parted from Hermione for the moment. Leaving the library behind, he headed down beneath the castle—he was going to find Malfoy.
The Slytherin common room lay deep under Hogwarts, near the lake, connected to the outside by a narrow, waterlogged passage. The location gave it a quiet, mysterious atmosphere that fit Slytherin perfectly.
Harry stood behind a stretch of wall that looked ordinary, but concealed a secret way into the Slytherin common room.
He waited in silence. It wasn't long before a familiar figure appeared.
The moment she saw Harry, Pansy's eyes lit up. She hurried over in quick little steps, stopping right in front of him. Her gaze brimmed with expectation, her voice bubbling with excitement she couldn't hide. "Harry, are you here to see me?"
Harry obviously wasn't going to bluntly pour cold water on her. He answered vaguely, "Mm. Yeah, that's right. Could I ask you to do me a favor? Call Malfoy out. Tell him Harry Potter is looking for him."
As a Slytherin, Pansy was sharp. How could she not hear what he meant?
Disappointment flickered across her face—he wasn't here for her—but she still nodded and went into the common room to fetch Malfoy.
She realized she couldn't bring herself to refuse Harry's request.
Not long after, there was a faint sound from the passage.
Malfoy crouched and shrank his shoulders, poking his head out from the hidden corridor and looking left and right warily.
Crabbe and Goyle did the same—practically glued to Malfoy's back, looking even more terrified than he did.
After all, they were coming out to face the dreaded "Lightning Demon King."
Seeing them this scared, Harry could only shake his head helplessly and walk up first.
But the instant they lifted their eyes and saw Harry, they instinctively took a step back, trying to retreat into the common room again.
Harry's forehead immediately sprouted several invisible black lines. With telekinesis, he yanked Malfoy out, then tossed Crabbe and Goyle back inside, leaving only a sentence behind:
"I'm talking to him alone. I'll give him back to you in a bit."
Behind him, Crabbe and Goyle fell onto the floor, faces deathly pale. They scrambled to their feet in a panic, wailing at the top of their lungs and repeatedly shouting Malfoy's name.
The miserable sound was like Malfoy had just walked off to vanish forever, never to return.
Harry couldn't be bothered with them. He dragged Malfoy straight to a secluded classroom.
After shutting the door, Harry put on a mild smile and spoke slowly to Malfoy—who was shaking all over, white as a sheet:
"Malfoy, you wouldn't want your mother to be looked down on by other pure-blood families because you're too useless, would you?"
The next day, at five in the afternoon, snow still fell in thick, drifting flurries, dressing Hogsmeade Station in silver-white.
Inside the station, Ron stood beside Hagrid, waving his arms as he saw Harry off.
Harry waved back, then boarded the Hogwarts Express with Hermione, heading for London.
Unlike the start of term, far fewer students were going home for Christmas this time. The train felt unusually empty.
There were plenty of vacant compartments, so Harry and Hermione took one for themselves—sharing a compartment alone…