The holidays brought a festive cheer to everyone at Hogwarts. Hagrid, his face flushed from too much mead, insisted on playing Exploding Snap with Professor Flitwick. After Flitwick won a few hands, he generously began to lose on purpose, which even Anthony noticed. Hagrid, in his drunken state, simply proclaimed himself lucky.
Meanwhile, Professors McGonagall, Dumbledore, Quirrell, and Snape played a lively game of Exploding Snap as well – cards courtesy of Filch's confiscated collection. Pale-faced Quirrell was the first to bow out, followed by a scowling Snape. Eventually, Dumbledore's singed fingertips forced him to admit defeat with a chuckle.
At his playful insistence, Professor McGonagall donned a golden hat as the champion's crown. Even Professor Trelawney's predictions took on a lighter tone, only foretelling a sprained ankle for Professor Sprout while tending to her Venomous Tentacula.
"Thank you for your concern, Sybil," Professor Sprout replied politely, sharing a knowing look with Professor McGonagall.
Professor Burbage, in high spirits, regaled Anthony with tales of Santa Claus costumes from around the world. It turned out she was an avid Christmas enthusiast, Apparating to Muggle celebrations each year.
A few students, overindulging in the feast, lay sprawled on the benches, still clutching bowls of raspberry ice cream. Anthony and several professors levitated them back to their dormitories – Madam Pomfrey insisted they needed to learn their lesson.
Even though the night sky shimmered with stars and the moonlight bathed the snow in an ethereal glow, laughter and conversation continued to fill the brightly lit Great Hall. Hundreds of floating candles seemed determined to burn throughout the night.
This was undoubtedly the grandest Christmas Anthony had ever experienced.
...
The next morning, Anthony packed his trunk, ready to bid farewell to the professors and return to London via the Floo Network. His Apparition test wasn't until later in the school year.
His trunk was mostly empty, so he filled it with a few extra books: Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration notes, Professor Quirrell's book on dark magic and the soul, a borrowed copy of "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them," and of course, his own notebook on necromancy.
The feast hadn't slowed the students down. Those who had been groaning on the benches the day before were now engaged in a raucous snowball fight around the castle. The doors of Hogwarts stood open, the floors tracked with snow and mud. Peeves, the mischievous poltergeist, seized the opportunity to scrawl insults on the students' backs with mud.
As Anthony dragged his trunk through the chaos, he spotted Harry trying to clean the word "pauper" off his ginger-haired friend Ron's robes. Peeves, having borrowed some tricks from the Weasley twins, had used enchanted mud that simply rearranged itself into a new insult every time Harry tried to remove it.
"Blast it!" Ron exclaimed, craning his neck to see what Peeves was writing about him now.
Anthony waved his wand, effortlessly dispelling Peeves' muddy prank. A simple trick he'd learned from Professor Flitwick, a variation of the Finite Incantatem spell.
The tip of Harry's wand flashed, and the mud vanished.
"It worked, Ron!" he exclaimed, looking up just in time to see Anthony standing on the castle steps. Anthony, dressed in his usual wizarding robes and carrying his suitcase, was heading towards the Floo connection to the Leaky Cauldron.
Anthony smiled and nodded in greeting, tucking his wand away.
He hadn't seen much of Harry and his friends since the Quidditch match. However, he'd heard from Professor McGonagall that upon learning the outcome of their game against Slytherin, Gryffindor Captain Wood had immediately jumped for joy. Potter, on the other hand, simply nodded and calmly told his teammates that he'd be quicker next time, so quick that no one would have a chance to fall off their brooms.
Anthony descended the steps, eager to return home.
"Professor Anthony!" Harry called out.
"Yes, Potter? What is it?"
He turned to see Harry Potter looking slightly awkward. "Merry Christmas, Professor," Harry offered.
Anthony smiled warmly. "Merry Christmas, Potter. And Merry Christmas to you too, Weasley."
Ron returned the greeting with a puzzled expression, only then remembering that Anthony was his father's pen pal.
As Anthony departed, he overheard Ron whisper to Harry, "Do you reckon Dad sent Professor Anthony a gift? I bet he forgot."
Mr. Weasley had indeed forgotten. After receiving Anthony's "Life and Social Habits of Muggle Households in Britain," he had responded with a long, apologetic letter and a generous bag of fudge. Now, half of Anthony's suitcase was filled with sweets.
...
Returning home felt different. As Anthony unlocked the door, a familiar scent greeted him.
His neighbor called out, "Mr. Anthony, welcome back! Merry Christmas!"
"Merry Christmas!" Anthony replied, carrying his suitcase inside and locking the door behind him.
After growing accustomed to the magical keys and doors at Hogwarts, the act of manually locking the door felt strange. As he turned the key, he couldn't help but think of it as just another way of casting "Alohomora."
His skeletal cat leaped out of its box, nimbly climbing onto its favorite, worn-out armchair. Anthony briefly considered using his wand to repair it before changing his mind.
"I can live without so much magic," he murmured to himself.
After settling his belongings, Anthony sat on his bed, gazing thoughtfully at the empty space in his room.
"Do you still want to come back?" Anthony asked the empty space in his room, a wistful smile playing on his lips.
With a soft "pop," like a bubble bursting, the Wraith Chicken materialized on the floor of Anthony's bedroom. It blinked its spectral eyes, taking in its surroundings, before fluttering to Anthony's bedside and perching there with an air of entitlement.
The skeletal cat, alerted to its companion's return, dashed in from the living room and promptly tumbled into a playful wrestling match with the disgruntled chicken. They hadn't seen each other in a long time. Unlike the cat, which had a solid form, the Wraith Chicken was bound to the location where it was summoned, much like Peeves was confined to Hogwarts.
"I'll find a way," Anthony promised the Wraith Chicken. "I discovered a notebook, a peculiar but useful one. We'll definitely figure out how to get you to Hogwarts... Wait, are chickens even allowed as pets at Hogwarts?"
The skeletal cat, seemingly amused by the question, enveloped the Wraith Chicken in its bony embrace and rolled under Anthony's bed, their combined forms causing a ruckus.
Anthony felt the vibrations through the bed frame and chuckled softly. There would be a way, he was sure of it. Worst case scenario, the Wraith Chicken could simply disguise itself as an owl.
The disgruntled chicken, not entirely satisfied, pecked at the cat several times before taking flight and landing atop the wardrobe. The cat, tail twitching excitedly, gathered its strength and leaped after it. The room was instantly filled with the sounds of playful chaos.
"I guess I am home," Anthony murmured, wrapping himself in the quilt without bothering to change. He drifted off to sleep, a contented smile gracing his face.