Chapter 283: Chapter 283: Merry Christmas [bonus]

The day before holiday break, and Hogwarts was soaking in a lazy, restless energy from top to bottom.

When the final bell rang, the whole castle flipped on like a switch.

Young witches and wizards poured out of classrooms, robes sweeping between chair legs, stepping on each other’s shoes without caring, jamming up in doorways.

The corridors were louder than the classrooms had been.

Kids clutching books and rolls of parchment shouted and ran, desperate to get back to their dormitories, stuff their trunks, and then scatter in every direction with nothing but freedom ahead of them.

Regulus walked toward the dungeons at his own pace. No rush, nothing to pack.

The young heir of the House of Black didn’t need to fold robes and cram them into a trunk like everyone else.

The robe on his back was self-cleaning, dust-repelling.

His shoes were Hungarian Horntail hatchling hide, lined with cashmere, the soles layered with a charm built specifically for the Scottish Highlands’ autumn and winter.

A full set of robes waited in the wardrobe at Grimmauld Place, replaced with new ones whenever he outgrew them. All bespoke.

He didn’t even need to pack a change of underwear.

Inside the common room, he headed for the dormitory.

Cuthbert and the others were elsewhere. Alex, cautious as ever, had insisted on dragging everyone through the plan one more time.

Rabastan had chosen the day before holiday to make his move, probably figuring that even if things went sideways, neither the professors nor Regulus’s circle would have time to follow up.

Everyone was rushing home for Christmas. Who’d bother?

The logic wasn’t entirely wrong. It showed he had a brain. Just not much of one.

Every thought, every action of his had been mapped out in advance, and he still fancied himself the cunning one, convinced he was operating from the shadows.

What he never stopped to ask was why this timing happened to suit him so perfectly.

Regulus let it go. If Alex wanted another run-through, fine. Last time anyway.

He walked to his desk and pulled open the bottom drawer.

Baruk had been in there three days and hadn’t caused trouble. Told not to leave, he didn’t leave.

He’d spun a small web inside the drawer, a few strands crosshatched, nothing you’d call a proper web. More like laying a foundation.

The sound of the drawer opening brought him to his feet. Eight legs spread wide, chelicerae clicking in a rapid staccato.

He circled the drawer twice, then climbed the front wooden ridge and reared up to look at Regulus.

Regulus drew his wand, tapped once, and applied the day’s dose of spell.

Baruk stiffened for a moment, then clicked away again.

"Tomorrow," Regulus said.

Baruk tilted his spider-head.

"I’m taking you to my nest."

"Big... nest?"

"Bigger than this."

Baruk hopped off the ridge and spun three laps around the drawer.

"That’s enough." Regulus pushed the drawer shut, leaving a gap for air. "I’ll check on you later."

A single click answered from inside.

The Library was quieter than usual, though not empty. A handful of Ravenclaws occupied the corners, grinding through work until the very last day.

Regulus pulled A History of Medieval Defensive Charm Evolution from the shelves and settled into his usual spot by the window.

He turned to a section somewhere in the middle, a passage about fourteenth-century French witches using reflection charms to resist being burned at the stake.

Before long, familiar footsteps approached and stopped across from him.

"You’re here." He glanced up.

"Mm." Lily set a copy of Advanced Potion-Making on the table and pulled out her chair.

She wore her Gryffindor robes today, scarlet and gold, her hair pulled into a ponytail that swayed against her shoulders.

They read in their own books.

The Library was quiet.

Outside, the sky had gone fully dark. The glow of enchanted lamps fell across the table, bleaching the open pages white.

Maybe because the holiday started tomorrow, neither of them read for long.

Lily turned a few pages, then closed the book and propped her chin on her hand, watching Regulus.

He finished his last paragraph, closed his own book, and looked up.

"Done?"

"Done." Lily let out a sigh. "I’ve been thinking."

"Mm." A smile touched his face. "About what?"

Lily’s mouth twisted, a flicker of indignation. "I can’t practice magic over the holiday. Two whole weeks."

She stretched the last words out as though two weeks were some catastrophic sentence.

Regulus looked at her. "You can practice magical energy control. No wand means the Trace won’t trigger."

Her eyes lit up, then the frown came back. "Really? No wand and it’s honestly fine?"

"The Trace is attached to the wand," Regulus explained. "Every time you cast a spell, the Ministry reads it. What spell, what time, what location."

"But..."

"Magical energy control doesn’t go through the wand," he continued. "And it’s not classified as a spell. Trace won’t activate. They won’t detect a thing."

Lily nodded slowly, thinking it over. What Regulus said, she believed.

If that was the case, she’d spend the holiday on magical energy control. No wand needed.

Regulus didn’t say the rest.

There was another option: get a second wand.

Not from Ollivander’s. Any young witch or wizard who purchased a wand there had The Trace bound to it automatically.

You’d have to buy secondhand. Knockturn Alley had them.

But there was a problem.

Secondhand wands didn’t come with the wand-chooses-the-wizard arrangement. Compatibility was the weak point. Ollivander’s whole system assumed a new wand, one that had never bonded with a master.

And there was no telling what the previous owner had been. Could’ve been a dark wizard. Might not have been a wizard at all.

Whether the core had been fed something, whether curse residue or dark magic memory lingered inside, nobody could say.

Besides, Lily couldn’t go to Knockturn Alley. No respectable young witch or wizard should be setting foot in a place like that.

But if he truly wanted to find her one, there were ways. Plenty of them.

Regulus tucked the thought away and said nothing.

"Regulus."

Lily’s voice pulled him back.

She was watching him, lips pushed out in a slight pout.

He blinked, refocused, and cleared his throat. "Lily, what’s your wand made of?"

She paused, caught off guard by the sudden question.

Then she sat up straighter, drew her wand from her robe pocket, and laid it on the table.

"Willow," she said, warming to the subject. "Ten and a quarter inches. Dragon Heartstring core."

"Mr. Ollivander said..." She blinked, mimicking the old wandmaker’s cadence. "Ah, willow, Miss Evans. Willow chooses witches and wizards of unusual potential. It will grow with you. It’s willing to wait. The Dragon Heartstring core is powerful, but it demands an owner with a temper of her own. The two of you are a fine match. I can feel it."

She laughed a little when she finished, slightly self-conscious. "That’s what he said. Word for word."

The corner of Regulus’s mouth lifted. He listened without interrupting.

Lily finished and looked at him, eyes bright, pleased to share something about her wand with him.

Then she asked, "What about yours?"

"Blackthorn. Dragon Heartstring core. Twelve and a quarter inches."

"Ollivander said..." His impression of the old wandmaker was better than hers. "Ah, Mr. Black. Blackthorn. A warrior’s wood. Dragon Heartstring, the most powerful core. You’ll do great things."

Lily nodded with open enthusiasm. She couldn’t have agreed more.

Regulus was going to do great things. Did Ollivander really need to tell anyone that?

Regulus smiled.

"Why are you asking about my wand?" Lily remembered suddenly.

"Curious," he said. "Just asking."

She eyed him, suspicious, sensing something deeper.

Then she leaned back in her chair and sighed. "Fine."

"You know what you’re supposed to do over the holiday, right?" she asked.

He was quick. He knew what she meant.

"I know. Write letters."

Lily nodded, satisfied, the corners of her mouth curling up. "That’s more like it."

"What are your plans for the break?" she asked, offhand.

"Practice magic."

Her expression crumbled for a moment, something wounded flickering across it.

But she rallied almost instantly, making up her mind to throw herself into magical energy control over the holiday. When term started again, she’d make Regulus’s jaw drop.

Her eyes were bright. "Fine, you practice yours, I’ll practice mine. Don’t act surprised when I’ve improved too fast."

Regulus glanced at her and said nothing.

Lily laughed first.

The Library had emptied. Lamplight stretched the shadows of the bookshelves long across the floor.

Madam Pince appeared from behind a shelf, half her body visible, a feather duster raised in one hand. She didn’t come closer, just stood a few meters away, watching them.

Lily stuck out her tongue, ducked her head, and stuffed her book into her bag. "Let’s go, let’s go."

As they passed, Lily turned her sweetest smile on the librarian. "Merry Christmas, Madam Pince."

Madam Pince said nothing. Her chin dipped once, and that was acknowledgment enough.

Regulus gave a nod of his own and followed Lily out.

The doors closed behind them.

"Remember to write over the holiday," Lily said.

"Mm." Regulus nodded.

She pressed again. "Don’t forget."

Another nod. "I won’t forget."

She still wasn’t letting him off. "You say that every time."

He could only nod once more. "Not this time."

Lily huffed, turned, and headed toward Gryffindor Tower. Two steps later she looked back over her shoulder. "Merry Christmas, Regulus."

His voice was warm. "Merry Christmas."

She turned forward again and kept walking, her footsteps echoing down the corridor, growing fainter until they were gone.

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