Behind Marcus stood three pairs of bright, lively eyes. From the mont Sean stepped into the house, the younger McGonagalls had been in a state of high excitent.
"It's the Wizard Green!" Sarah cheered.
"The best Christmas ever!" Bud shouted, throwing his small hands into the air.
"Honestly, Sarah, Bud—have you no dignity?" Zoe said, though she was the first one to scurry over. "Mr. Green, sir... could I perhaps trade this very pretty candy wrapper for one of those interesting biscuits in your bag?"
It took a fair amount of effort for Sean to disentangle himself from the three "Little McGonagalls" and usher the three cats (who had transford for the greeting) out of the room.
"Christmas... ah, Christmas..." Marcus sighed, settling into his favorite velvet sofa with a nostalgic smile.
"rry Christmas, Uncle Marcus," Sean said, placing an elegantly wrapped sky-blue gift box into the old man's hands before taking a seat by the fire.
Outside, snowflakes continued to dance against the windowpanes. A large Kneazle lay stretched out before the hearth, resembling nothing so much as a giant, ginger-furred rug.
"A gift... for ? Oh, child..." Marcus handled the box with excruciating care, as if it were made of the finest spun glass, and tucked it into a display cabinet. Then, with a mysterious twinkle in his eye, he produced a long, slender box and handed it to Sean.
Sean studied the box curiously but didn't open it imdiately. As he observed the gift, a woman descended the stairs. Her hair was styled in a series of sharp, professional curls, ticulously pinned in place. The mont she reached the bottom step, her bright eyes grew misty.
"Minerva, my dear..."
Professor McGonagall looked montarily flustered as the woman reached out to embrace her.
"How long has it been? If you were to ask the weight of the longing I've felt... well, it's quite heavy, dear. Like the snow on a winter mountain."
In the remote southern suburbs of London, the fields were frozen under the biting January wind. As far as the eye could see, the villages, slopes, and riverbanks—even the ruins and old graves—were draped in a lancholic shroud of white.
Inside the villa, the only sounds were the crackling of the logs and the steady whistle of the kettle. Nai's voice was clear, yet carried a thread of weariness.
"We have been so imrsed in our own grief that we quite forgot to care for the living—especially those who are desperate for love. I have heard the rumors again, Minerva. Marcus says that if the Dark Lord truly returns, he intends to return to the field, regardless of his age.
"I believe him. I know him. So people, when they possess the ability, must make the effort. It is the only way to ensure fewer souls are mangled and fewer families are torn asunder. I told him: 'If you believe this is a worthy goal, then we shall face the battle together.'"
N Nai's expression was tinged with a persistent sorrow. She was a witch herself and was no stranger to the darkening clouds over the British Wizarding World.
"You... have made a noble decision," Professor McGonagall said, her face set in a somber mask as she stared into the distance.
"But Minerva, why do we fight?" Nai asked. "Is it solely for ourselves, to escape a terrible regi? Or is it for others—those we have never t, those who may not even know our world exists?"
The conversation was growing far too heavy for the younger McGonagalls. Although they didn't fully understand the words, they were sensitive enough to catch the shift in atmosphere. One by one, they slipped out of the living room to go and play in the snow.
Nai turned her gaze toward Sean. The boy, who she had just finished hugging, had a slight flush in his pale cheeks from the winter air.
"We fight for the next generation of wizards," Nai said firmly. "So that they never have to know what it is like to fight. We, the remnants of the old guard... we who rember the sorrow of the first terror... we shall fight to the end."
"You were always the more decisive one, Nai," McGonagall sighed.
"Minerva, send him away," Nai urged, her tone turning pleading. "If what is happening at Hogwarts is true, then the Dark Lord's return is inevitable. Uagadou, Mahoutokoro, Castelobruxo... they are all excellent choices. This land is about to be scorched by war. That fire should not touch a soul so young."
Minerva McGonagall's resolve wavered.
"Hogwarts is the safest place," she whispered after a long pause.
"I knew you would say that," Nai said with a low sigh. "But I only ask that you realize one thing. You have beco his Secret Keeper. As long as you stand, he cannot be hard."
With that final, heavy statent, the topic was closed.
Upstairs, Sean was opening the gift from Marcus.
Inside the long box was a brand-new wand and a piece of parchnt that felt like a Portkey. He pulled out the letter tucked into the lining.
[My dear little Green, were you surprised by the gift?]
[The wand on the left is a custom piece. I should tell you in confidence: this wand can be used anywhere without being tracked by the Ministry's sensors. Unexpected, isn't it?]
[But don't be too quick to thank your resourceful Uncle Marcus. Look at Nai's gift. It is a Portkey leading to a very specific location—a place protected by the Fidelius Charm. A place that belongs only to you.]
[I am honored to serve as your Secret Keeper, but of course, I have prepared a backup. Minerva was more than happy to assist. Imagine it—a cottage that can never be found by your enemies! rlin's beard, it was my dream when I was a boy.]
Sean slowly lowered the letter. Snowy was watching him with interest, her shadow falling across the parchnt.
He tucked the untraceable wand and the Portkey into his Wizard's To. He looked out at the distant mountains. The shadow of war felt like it was drawing closer, despite the festive season. At the very least, ti had done little to heal the wounds in the hearts of those who had lost so much.
Aside from the initial tension of that first evening, life at the farm was largely relaxed and enjoyable.
Marcus would rise before dawn to attend to the chores. With a few subtle charms, he kept the entire estate running with chanical efficiency, ensuring the McGonagall Villa remained entirely self-sufficient.
In truth, it was very difficult for a wizard to starve. Aside from using Confusion Charms to navigate the Muggle markets, a wizard and his family could easily find a secluded patch of land to cultivate. Using magic to accelerate crop growth was elentary. Raising livestock like chickens, ducks, or pigs was a trivial matter—as the Weasley family had proven.
With the aid of Growth and Weather-Working charms, a single field could provide several harvests in just a few months. And for soone like Sean, who possessed the Wizard's To, he could literally "sever" a patch of fertile land and grow anything he desired within its pages.
[End of Chapter 385]
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