Harry and Ron woke up exceptionally early—even earlier than Kane. After all, today was the day for Christmas presents.
"Ha~ you're up early."
Kane let out a massive yawn, greeting Harry and Ron as they huddled around the Christmas tree. He walked over and sat directly on the floor.
Among the three, Ron had the most gifts—a literal mountain of packages that could rival the haul Dudley Dursley usually received. Kane and Harry, by comparison, were sowhat lacking; their combined gifts wouldn't even top the peak of Ron's mountain.
"It's alright, mates. We're brothers—what's mine is yours. Pick whatever you like," Ron said, scooting his backside to sit between them and patting their shoulders in consolation.
"Ah, you're actually a decent guy, Ron," Kane remarked with a raised eyebrow. He picked up a package addressed to him. It was from Hagrid; inside was a bundle of thick, sturdy "cow hair" (Volt Goat wool). Apparently, Hagrid rembered the ti Kane had gone out early in the morning to "shave" the livestock.
"That is a weird gift," Ron muttered, scratching his head. If he didn't know Hagrid's personality, he'd think it was a deliberate provocation.
"Eh, I can't use it right now, but Hagrid clearly put effort into it." Kane set the wool aside, planning to find a tailor later to make a coat or a scarf out of it.
Next was Dumbledore's gift. The Headmaster knew Kane had spent his break "grave-robbing" for gems, so he contributed his own effort: a gold ring set with a sapphire, tucked inside a woolen sock.
Kane only found it because the ring poked his foot when he tried to put the sock on. He pulled it out, rubbed it against Harry's robes to clean it, and slid it onto his finger. Hmm, looks good.
"I say... didn't you wash your feet last night?" Harry asked dryly.
"Even if they're clean, it's a matter of principle. It's like how most people wouldn't want to drink wine crushed by a beautiful girl's feet. Theoretically, the wine is sanitized, but the ntal hurdle remains," Kane explained, reaching for the next gift.
Suddenly, he noticed sothing was off. Harry hadn't agreed with him. He and Ron looked over in shock to see Harry staring wistfully at the ceiling, lost in thought.
"Seriously, mate?" Kane and Ron said in perfect synchronization.
"Hmm? What?" Harry snapped back to reality.
"Nothing. Next Christmas, I'll... I'll find a way to get you a bottle of that 'special' wine."
Harry's face instantly turned a deep, burning crimson.
The interlude didn't stop the unwrapping. Kane opened another box.
"Ah, that's from my mom. I ntioned to her that you're terrified of the cold... but she's still so biased. Why is yours so much nicer than mine?" Ron grumbled, looking enviously at the thick, black plush robe Kane was holding.
"From this day forward, Mrs. Weasley is the person I respect most in the world," Kane said, standing up to pull the robe over his head. "I love this 'pajama'."
"Technically, it's an overcoat," Ron corrected him.
"Then it's an overcoat." Kane peeled off his standard Diagon Alley robe and snuggled into the custom-made plush one. "Gotta admit, this is way warr than the old one."
The rest of the gifts were from classmates. Neville sent an hourglass; Hermione sent a box of handmade chocolates with a note: It's the thought that counts, don't despise it for being cheap.
"Why would she think an orphan like would look down on a gift for being cheap?" Kane wondered aloud as he popped a chocolate into his mouth.
"Who knows? Our gifts didn't get a note like that."
Harry shrugged. Soon, they had cleared the space under the tree, save for one final gift. It had no signature, and Harry and Ron had spent the last five minutes trying to pry it open without success.
"Is this just a decoration?" Ron asked, nursed a sore fingernail.
"It's mine, obviously." Kane took the box; with a gentle tug, the ribbon ca away effortlessly.
Harry and Ron stared at their red, throbbing fingers, then at the silkily smooth opening.
"Dumbledore already sent you a gift. Who's this from?" Ron asked.
"How do you know it's not a common gift?" Harry asked.
"Because a charm that only allows a specific person to open it is high-level magic. I don't know how to do it, but I know the theory is complex," Ron explained, leaning in to see.
"Let's see what It prepared for ." Kane didn't hesitate. He peered into the box—which looked like a void of pitch-black darkness—and reached in.
He pulled out a Walking Cane, inlaid with a white tusk at the handle, the edges wrapped in gold.
"Ah. A Mandrake and a Walking Cane." Kane examined it. In the safety of Hogwarts, it wasn't strictly necessary, but he knew its value. Eventually, he could upgrade it to a Lazy Explorer for high-intensity teleportation.
He slid it under his bed; the 25% movent speed was great, but Hogwarts didn't exactly have track ets.
The rest of the day was spent in a relaxing holiday haze. Kane realized he hadn't prepared gifts for most people since he hadn't expected to receive so many.
He'd only given things to Hagrid and the trio. He hadn't even given Dumbledore anything—he didn't want to be the "clown" who sends a gift to soone who didn't send one back.
Feeling the urgency, he spent the morning packaging small "trinkets" he'd dug up from the graveyard to send as return gifts via owl.
As for Dumbledore... Kane rummaged through his box of "finds." Dumbledore had given him actual gold and gems; giving him a rusty trinket felt too cheap.
He decided to use a Mandrake to craft a Pan Flute. Dumbledore probably wouldn't use it in a duel, but it made for a fine collectible.
Evening fell. The Great Hall was once again a single-table affair. Kane ate quickly and slipped away, heading to the Headmaster's office to drop off his gift.
He pushed the door open, crept inside, and hid his gift under Dumbledore's tree. But as he turned to leave, a mirror caught his eye.
He looked into the glass, and his breath hitched.
"This is impossible..." he whispered, his eyes wide with shock.
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