The winter chill had settled over Hogwarts, and the heavy snow blanketed the castle, giving it a dull and lifeless atmosphere.
The students, like frostbitten eggplants, were unable to shake off the melancholy that had settled upon them, thanks to the recent petrification incident.
Early in the morning, Harry was awoken by Hermione. He looked over to Ron's bed, but it was still the same Ron who was in Petrified state.
Harry sighed and thought to himself, "Today may be the day we find the murderer."
"Merry Christmas," Hermione said as she threw a gift at Harry.
She then shared the exciting news that the medicine was ready.
Harry sat up, fully awake now. "Malfoy had better pray he didn't do anything wrong, or I won't let him off the hook,"
Harry said, his fists clenched.
He then playfully teased Ron's pet, Scabbers, who seemed a bit listless without his owner.
"Hmm," Hermione replied with a nod.
At that moment, Hedwig flew into the room with a small package in its beak.
It was a Christmas gift for Harry, and Hedwig affectionately nipped at his ear as a greeting.
This was a much more precious gift than whatever was in the package.
A toothpick and a letter from a distant relative wouldn't bring much joy.
Harry's other Christmas gifts, however, were much more satisfactory. Hagrid gave him a large bag of fudge, which Harry planned to put by the fire to soften before eating.
Hermione bought him a luxurious feather pen. When Harry opened the last gift, he found a brand new hand-knitted sweater from Mrs. Weasley and a large raisin cake.
He held up Mrs. Weasley's greeting card and felt a pang of guilt.
He thought of Mr. Weasley's car, which had been missing since the collision with the Willow, and of Ron lying on the bed, unable to enjoy the holiday.
He saw the unopened "Flying with the Artillery Team" on Ron's table and realized it was a gift Ron had intended for him.
At Hogwarts' Christmas dinner, everyone ate with relish and the delicious food temporarily distracted them from the somber atmosphere.
The hall was magnificent, with a dozen silver frost-covered Christmas trees and thick ribbons of mistletoe and holly crisscrossing the ceiling.Enchanted snow, warm and dry, gently fell from above.
Dumbledore led the group in singing some of his favorite Christmas carols, and after Hagrid poured glasses of eggnog, his voice grew louder.
"Hermione, it's time," Harry said to Hermione, feeling that they had waited long enough.
"Okay," Hermione nodded.
Malfoy and Pansy were enjoying the food at the Slytherin table during the Christmas dinner when a scream rang out in the hall, followed by chaos as a pen flew through the air, spewing black ink everywhere.
It made its way towards the Slytherin table and finally reached Pansy.
"Oh my god!" Pansy screamed, quickly standing up to avoid the "source of all evil."
But she wasn't fast enough and ended up splattered with black ink.
Malfoy, meanwhile, was deep in thought about his own affairs and subconsciously cast a spell to protect himself from the ink. Pansy was forgotten in the chaos.
"Who did it?" Pansy screamed, looking around frantically to find the culprit.
No one would be in a good mood after such a rude interruption during a happy holiday, especially while they were eating.
"I'm sorry, Fred and George had a little accident while teaching me how to use this pen," Harry said as he approached, bowing his head apologetically.
"What?" Malfoy wasn't in the mood to deal with this.
He was still thinking about how to find a way to settle the diary and the Basilisk once and for all.
He glanced at Pansy's ink-splattered robe and said, "Clean it up."
He was trying to downplay the situation and persuade Pansy not to worry about Harry.
But his efforts were in vain.
"I'm so sorry," Harry said, his head still bowed.
"This pen's ink is specially made and requires a special potion to remove it."
"Oh well," Malfoy shrugged.
"Then go find our dean, I'm sure he has a way."
"It's really frustrating," Pansy said angrily, looking at her ruined wizarding robes.
Malfoy didn't suspect anything and was fully focused on the diary.
He had witnessed the Weasley brothers' pranks almost every week and saw this as just another one of their antics.
Crabbe and Goyle were equally clueless, not knowing what was going on or what they should do.
History has a way of repeating itself.
Frustrated, Harry left the hall with Pansy and secretly compared her to the successful Hermione.
Hermione, meanwhile, rushed to the girl's bathroom, knowing that time was of the essence.
There wasn't much difference between her and Pansy, but she still managed to steal a robe from the Slytherin dressing room. A
fter all, the robes between the two houses were different.
In the bathroom, the bubbly, syrupy potion was gurgling as Hermione nervously waited.
She couldn't help but worry about Ron and Harry, although one was on the bed and the other was attracting her attention.
Her hands trembling, Hermione scooped a large ball of the potion into the glass she had prepared.
The decoction made a loud noise, like a pot of boiling water, and foamed vigorously. After a moment, it turned a slightly purple color.
Because of her similar body, Hermione only experienced a slight itch on her face when she adjusted to the potion.
She walked to the mirror to inspect herself and saw that there were no flaws.But she couldn't go out right now, which was strange.
Hermione fought the urge to leave the bathroom and paced back and forth inside. She had to trust that Harry had given her enough time.
About twenty minutes passed before Hermione slowly walked out of the girl's bathroom, trying to avoid being seen.
She kept looking around and took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. Her heart was racing, and she couldn't help but feel fear, even having the urge to run away.
But she thought of her petrified classmates and her best friend, Ron, lying unconscious on the bed.
Her hesitant heart firmed up again, and she knew she couldn't leave.