On Christmas Eve, the temperature in the Scottish Highlands was far from pleasant for humans.
A blizzard had raged all night, toppling several trees around the castle's perimeter. The fallen giants lay buried beneath snowflakes, and the snow piled up to the windows seemed to paint the entire world white.
But Evans didn't mind this kind of weather. He loved winter and that touch of pristine white that invaded the world.
Of course, all of this was based on the fact that he was inside a house with a crackling fireplace and warming charms.
Leaning against the wall by the fireplace, Evans packed the potion manuscript he had obtained earlier into a parcel, tied it with a ribbon, and stretched with satisfaction.
The hotpot from a few days ago had been wonderfully satisfying. Carl had finally gotten to eat the pig brains it had been craving, so for a long time, it probably wouldn't be whispering resentfully in his ear every night.
Honestly, having a Cornish Pixie that liked eating brains whispering mournfully in your ear every night was indeed quite horrifying.
Although Evans was certain Carl wouldn't hurt him, that sense of unease still couldn't be completely eliminated.
After stretching, Evans continued packaging the large pile of gifts around him.
Having many friends wasn't always entirely good—like during holidays, just packing gifts would waste a lot of his time.
And tomorrow he'd probably receive the same number of gifts, which would likely take over an hour just to unwrap.
What a delightfully burdensome problem.
Setting aside the package prepared for "the big bat," Evans picked up a complete set of Muggle fairy tales beside him, placed them on wrapping paper, and tapped lightly with his wand.
The paper seemed to come alive, jumping up and automatically folding into a gift box shape. The ribbon nearby also floated up, tying the package tight and forming a beautiful bow on top.
"Using magic to wrap gifts is really convenient and quick."
For some reason, Professor Dumbledore had recently become obsessed with Muggle fairy tales and insisted that Evans bring him a set after visiting the historians.
Having Christmas gifts predetermined like this—where was the element of surprise?
Shaking his head, Evans wrapped the gifts for other professors one by one, then looked at a small pile of books and items nearby.
Compared to gifts for professors and friends, the gifts for students seemed much fewer.
After all, he'd only been a professor for less than half a year. Even the youngest of his formerly familiar underclassmen, Charlie, had already graduated, leaving him with basically no familiar students at school.
Aside from some young wizards who had performed exceptionally in Care of Magical Creatures class, there were only Harry and Hermione left.
With a light tap of his wand, two gift boxes nearby flew to Evans, containing the gifts for the two young wizards.
For Harry, he'd prepared a flying safety manual and a feather. The manual recorded all safety accidents that had occurred in Quidditch throughout history, which should provide Harry with some crucial safety warnings.
The feather was a swan's tail feather. After being enchanted with a Levitation Charm, this type of feather would slow the carrier's fall when they plummeted from great heights, allowing them to land safely.
Due to psychological trauma from his previous life, Evans had always maintained the habit of carrying such feathers, even though he could now fly in midair at any time using his house-elf talents. He hadn't abandoned this precaution.
As for Hermione's gift, it was a research manuscript about fairies' talent for predicting danger. Although the reverse engineering of this magic was complete, learning it was quite difficult. Evans planned to let his homework-grading little witch try it first—if she learned it, excellent; if not, at least it could give him some ideas to help continue perfecting this magic.
Hmm... that seems a bit utilitarian, he thought. I'd better add a set of history books for her.
She quite loved learning these things anyway.
After preparing all the gifts, Evans looked at the gift boxes that filled half the room and felt somewhat troubled.
With so many gifts, just delivering them would be an enormous undertaking.
"Gifts for professors and students can be sent directly to the owl post office. Gifts for the Forbidden Forest can be delivered tomorrow by Alice with Nana. But for more distant places..."
Thinking of his friends scattered across the world, Evans rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
If he had owls help deliver the gifts, he'd probably need to hire many owls, and with that quantity, the postage alone would be astronomical.
"Sometimes I really wish I could befriend a house-elf."
House-elf Apparition was incredibly useful—no need to worry about splinching, and they could make long-distance trips to set destinations, far superior to normal Apparition and Portkeys.
And if he had a house-elf friend, he could ask it to help deliver gifts.
Unfortunately, in all his years in this world, he'd never found a house-elf willing to truly befriend him.
Although those house-elves were all very respectful to him, that wasn't the attitude of friendship.
That war had damaged the house-elf race too deeply. To prevent another rebellion, wizards had deeply carved servility into their bloodline.
It was precisely because of this servility embedded in their bloodline that they were destined never to open their hearts to human wizards.
With a light sigh, Evans still moved all the gifts to the door, planning to hire a dozen or so owls to help deliver them one by one.
After finishing all this, he looked toward his desk.
A pure green gift box that had been wrapped long ago lay quietly on the desk, tied with a red ribbon, but without stamps or an address.
Evans looked at the gift box, his eyes constantly flickering. He hesitated for a long time before gently picking up the box, writing a string of addresses on it, and placing it on top of the gift pile.
After doing all this, he slowly breathed a sigh of relief and looked to the side.
Nana was still lying on the bed, sleeping soundly, completely unaffected by the Christmas atmosphere.
For it, being asked to deliver things was like asking for its life. Even Alice, who had the best relationship with it, rarely received gifts from Nana.
As for Alice, she was clumsily crouching by the oven, occasionally adjusting the lever nearby to control the flames.
On the side of the oven sat a baking tray with dozens of small cookies that didn't look particularly appetizing.
These were gifts she was making for her little friends in the Forbidden Forest. Although they didn't look very good, they were full of heart.
Helping Alice control the heat to prevent those cookies from transforming from unappealing to carcinogenic, Evans looked toward the corner of the room.
Little Cloak was crouching there sneakily. It seemed to have been there for quite a while, but Evans had been busy packing gifts and hadn't paid much attention to what it was doing.
Taking a closer look, Evans's eyes flashed with surprise.
Little Cloak had actually prepared a gift too. The box was already wrapped, and even the ribbon was tied. It really looked quite proper.
Who was it sending a gift to?
With some curiosity, Evans didn't disturb Little Cloak but stood quietly to the side watching.
Perhaps because it was concentrating on wrapping, Little Cloak didn't notice Evans nearby. It carefully placed the gift on the ground, and several wisps of black mist floated out from under its hem, forming two lines of crooked writing above the gift.
Gryffindor Common Room.
To Fred and George, from your Master.
[Chapter Complete]
***
Want more? Check out my Patreon for:
✓ Advanced chapters of all my stories
✓ Exclusive novels & fanfics
✓ Early access content www.patreon.com/meowthtl
💪 Community Goal: 500 Power Stones unlocks a bonus chapter!
Thanks for reading and supporting the story!