HP: Fragments Of A Legacy

Christmas was approaching, and on a chilly December morning, Hogwarts woke up blanketed in two meters of snow. The lake was completely frozen, and the air was so frigid that the few owls brave enough to cross the stormy skies to deliver mail had to take refuge with Hagrid. There, sheltered from the harsh weather, they could recover before attempting to fly again.

Helena had started getting to know the Weasley twins better. Their reputation as pranksters was already well-known throughout the castle. She'd had the chance to interact with them during one of Harry's Quidditch practices, and although she initially couldn't understand how her brother put up with their endless energy, she now found their peculiar sense of humor rather charming. Recently, they'd been punished for enchanting snowballs to chase Professor Quirrell and hit the back of his turban. Helena couldn't help but smile at the story—the twins were relentless, but there was something admirable about their ingenuity and creativity.

As the holidays drew near, the castle was filled with anticipation. The fireplaces in the Slytherin common room and the Great Hall offered a welcome refuge from the relentless winter, but the hallways remained cold and drafty. A bitter wind battered the classroom windows, seeping into the bones of everyone inside. The dungeons, where Potions classes were held, were especially unbearable. The cold was so intense that the students' breaths turned to clouds of vapor. Desperate for warmth, many crowded close to their bubbling cauldrons, their only source of heat.

During one such class, Draco Malfoy seized the opportunity to make one of his trademark cutting remarks.

"Such a pity," he drawled, his tone dripping with mock sympathy. "All those people who have to stay here for Christmas because no one wants them at home."

His gaze landed squarely on Helena and Harry, and as usual, Crabbe and Goyle chuckled stupidly beside him.

Helena, focused on weighing powdered lionfish spines, didn't look up. Beside her, Harry clenched his jaw, visibly struggling not to respond.

Before the tension could escalate, Lucian's voice cut through the room, calm and commanding:

"Malfoy, I suggest you focus on your work. At least try not to embarrass our house any further."

The comment hit like a lightning bolt, and the classroom fell silent. Malfoy opened his mouth to retort but faltered under Lucian's gaze. Despite his usual bravado, it was clear he didn't dare challenge someone with Lucian's influence, especially within Slytherin. Flushing with anger and humiliation, Malfoy finally turned his attention back to his cauldron.

Helena glanced up briefly and met Lucian's eyes. She offered him a small, grateful smile before returning to her task. Having someone like him stand up for her, particularly in a house as challenging as Slytherin, gave her an unexpected sense of reassurance.

Since the last Quidditch match, Malfoy had been especially insufferable. He had taken Slytherin's loss as a personal affront and had been trying to ridicule Harry at every opportunity—suggesting, for example, that a large-mouthed toad could replace him as Seeker.

Most of the students, however, were impressed by Harry's performance on the field and didn't find Malfoy's jabs particularly amusing. Frustrated, the young Slytherin had shifted his attention to mocking the Potter siblings, grasping for any opportunity to belittle them for what he considered their "unworthy" family background.

It was true that neither Harry nor Helena would be returning to Privet Drive for the holidays. The week prior, Professor Snape had visited the Slytherin common room to record the names of students staying at Hogwarts over Christmas. Helena had signed up without hesitation, knowing Harry would do the same. However, she was genuinely surprised to learn that both Lucian and Cassandra had also chosen to stay.

"Going home early would be an unnecessary complication," Lucian had commented with his usual calm when Helena asked about it.

Cassandra, as was her habit, had remained silent, merely nodding in agreement. Helena wasn't sure what to make of his words, but she decided not to press the matter. After all, the prospect of spending the holidays with her new friends filled her with an unexpected sense of excitement. For the first time in years, Christmas felt like it might be something more than just another day.

As they left the dungeons after Potions, they encountered a towering Christmas tree at the end of the hallway. Beneath it, two enormous feet were visible, and a loud sniff confirmed that Hagrid was behind it.

"Need any help, Hagrid?" Ron asked, sticking his head through the branches.

"No, I've got it, thanks, Ron."

"Would you mind getting out of the way?" drawled Malfoy's cold, sneering voice from behind them. "Trying to earn a bit of extra cash, Weasley? I suppose you want to be a gamekeeper when you leave Hogwarts... That hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to your family's house."

Ron lunged at Malfoy just as Snape appeared at the top of the stairs.

"WEASLEY!"

Ron let go of Malfoy's robes.

"Professor Snape, he was provoked," Hagrid said, poking his shaggy head out from behind the tree. "Malfoy was insultin' his family."

"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," Snape said in a voice that feigned kindness but brimmed with his characteristic disdain. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be thankful it's not more. Now, all of you, off you go."

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle shoved past them, smirking smugly, leaving Ron seething.

"I'll get him," Ron muttered through gritted teeth, glaring at Malfoy's retreating back. "One of these days, I'll get him..."

"I hate them both," Harry said with equal intensity. "Malfoy and Snape."

Helena, who had been observing quietly, sighed in exasperation.

"Can you stop with the hate for a moment?" she asked finally, giving her brother a disapproving look. Since the Quidditch match, Harry and his friends had been convinced that Snape had been behind the curse that nearly knocked him off his broom. None of her attempts to challenge their theory had made any difference.

"Snape might not be a nice person, and yes, he clearly dislikes you, but there's a big difference between hating someone and wanting to kill them," Helena pointed out, trying to keep her tone even.

Harry simply rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed by her comment.

"He just docked us points unfairly," he argued, as if that proved his point.

"I wouldn't say it was entirely unfair," Lucian interjected, speaking for the first time. He had been watching the exchange intently. "While Malfoy provoked the confrontation, he didn't do anything after that. Ron, on the other hand, tried to attack him. Snape only acted accordingly."

Ron, who had been stewing in anger, exploded: "He insulted my family!"

"Yes, he did," Lucian acknowledged calmly. "But your mistake was seeking immediate revenge. Sometimes, you need to think with a clear head and not let your emotions take over. If you really want to make him pay, wait for an opportunity where you won't be caught."

His measured, almost paternal tone took everyone by surprise. Helena frowned, unsure if that was the kind of advice she wanted her brother to follow.

Ron, however, seemed torn between feeling offended or accepting Lucian's words as useful advice. Eventually, he muttered something unintelligible, clearly unsatisfied.

"Cheer up, it's nearly Christmas," Hagrid interrupted suddenly, as if to dispel the tension. "Tell yeh what—come with me ter the Great Hall. It's lookin' absolutely beautiful!"

So the six of them followed Hagrid and his fir tree into the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy decorating.

The hall was spectacular. Garlands of mistletoe and holly hung from the walls, and no fewer than twelve Christmas trees were scattered around, some glittering with tiny icicles, others glowing with hundreds of candles.

"How many days left until the holidays?" Hagrid asked.

"Just one," Hermione replied. "And that reminds me… Harry, Ron, we've got half an hour until lunch. We should head to the library."

"Oh, right, you're right," Ron said, forcing himself to look away from Professor Flitwick, who was flicking his wand to send golden bubbles floating onto the branches of the newly brought tree.

"The library?" Hagrid asked, walking them to the door. "Right before the holidays? Bit sad, don't you think?"

"Oh, it's not homework," Harry said cheerfully. "Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel, we've been trying to figure out who he is."

"What?" Hagrid looked alarmed. "Listen to me… I already told you… Stay out of it. What that dog's guarding has nothing to do with you."

"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," Hermione said.

"Unless you want to save us the trouble," Harry added. "We've searched through thousands of books and haven't found a thing… If you'd just give us a hint… I know I've read his name somewhere."

"I'm not telling you anything," Hagrid said firmly.

"Then we'll have to find out ourselves," Ron said. They left Hagrid grumbling under his breath and headed quickly toward the library.

Helena, who had remained silent during the conversation, stepped closer to Hagrid, watching the three of them disappear purposefully down the corridor.

"They're unlikely to find anything in the library," she commented calmly, her eyes fixed on the decorations in the Great Hall. "All the relevant books about Flamel were requested weeks ago by Slytherin students. Funny how some only need a nudge in the right direction to develop an interest in certain topics."

Hagrid raised an eyebrow, puzzled by the apparent coincidence. There was a mix of uncertainty and concern on his face.

"Don't worry; I'm not interested in whatever's going on," Helena murmured softly, her voice barely a whisper as she continued to watch Harry and the others disappear down the hallway. "Truthfully, I'd prefer if Harry didn't show any interest either, but that's impossible. Even so, I won't make it easy for him. I know he'll get himself into trouble, but at least I'll try to delay it as much as I can."

Hagrid, who was now studying her with a slightly furrowed brow, let her words linger in the air before speaking.

"Slytherin, eh?" he mused aloud after a moment of silence, a small smile softening his stern expression. "Now I see why the Sorting Hat put you there."

Helena raised her eyebrows slightly, as if the comment didn't surprise her, and let out a small laugh before responding playfully:

"Actually, I think it has more to do with the time I've spent around Lucian. Some of his habits seem to be rubbing off on me."

With those words and a glimmer of amusement in her eyes, she ended the conversation and moved toward the center of the Great Hall. The exchange with Hagrid faded into the background as her attention shifted to Professor Flitwick, who was floating atop an enchanted stool, decorating the Christmas trees with golden bubbles that danced through the air before settling delicately onto the branches.

Lucian and Cassandra were already there, working with diligence and precision. Lucian was levitating garlands of mistletoe onto the walls with practiced ease, while Cassandra adjusted small details with a critical eye that revealed her penchant for perfection. They both seemed comfortable in their tasks, and their presence offered Helena an unexpected reprieve.

Without hesitation, Helena joined them, grateful for the chance to immerse herself in something different. The warm glow of the Great Hall, the flickering of the floating magical candles, and the quiet company of her friends created a peaceful atmosphere that starkly contrasted with the tensions and troubles she knew her brother was bound to seek out. For now, it was enough.

…

When the holidays began, Helena, Cassandra, and Lucian enjoyed the relative calm that the absence of most students offered. With the dormitories practically to themselves and the Slytherin common room much quieter than usual, they could finally relax, free from the constant stares their housemates often threw their way. For the first time since their arrival at Hogwarts, it felt like they could let their guard down.

During those quiet days, they shared laughter and small pranks as they gathered around the fireplace. Helena had taken a liking to impromptu snack sessions, where they toasted bread, nibbled on fritters and marshmallows, and devised absurd plans to get Malfoy expelled. The ideas ranged from hilarious to outlandish, but Helena couldn't help noticing that Lucian's suggestions, though disguised as jokes, carried an unnervingly plausible undertone. Sometimes, she wondered if he was actually serious.

Not everything was fun and games, though. Helena had decided to use the holidays to learn as much as she could from Lucian. She knew he was an exceptional student; the professors' comments left no room for doubt. From day one, his skill and understanding of magic had impressed even the most demanding teachers, and it wasn't uncommon for them to cite him as an example for others to follow. It would be foolish not to take advantage of his expertise to improve her own abilities.

In particular, she wanted to excel in Transfiguration and Potions, Lucian's strongest and favorite subjects. Although Helena was already competent in both, she knew there was always room for improvement. Each day, she dedicated time to studying with Lucian, asking him to explain advanced theories or guide her through spells that required precision. He usually agreed, though not without throwing in a teasing comment or two, which added a playful touch to their lessons.

As for her other subjects, Helena didn't have any major difficulties, but there were two areas where she truly felt she was falling behind: Defense Against the Dark Arts and History of Magic.

In Defense Against the Dark Arts, Helena felt that part of the problem wasn't entirely her fault. Although Professor Quirrell had vast knowledge, he struggled to convey it effectively. She couldn't say he was a bad teacher, but he certainly wasn't a particularly good one either. His fragmented explanations and shaky delivery made the class less productive than she'd hoped.

Additionally, Helena knew she lacked the confidence and quick instincts the subject demanded—qualities Lucian seemed to possess naturally. For him, the practical spells taught in class were as easy as breathing. She seized every opportunity to observe how he executed them and sought his practical advice to improve her own performance.

History of Magic, on the other hand, presented an entirely different challenge. Helena couldn't say she wasn't interested in the subject; she genuinely enjoyed stories of magical wars and iconic figures from the past. But the overwhelming number of dates, treaties, and names that Professor Binns monotonously recited from his desk made the subject feel insurmountable. In contrast, Lucian had an impressive memory and an almost magical ability to connect historical events with the present, making even the dullest lessons come alive when he spoke.

"How do you remember so many dates?" Helena asked one afternoon as he flipped through a book on the origins of the International Confederation of Wizards.

"Don't memorize them as lists," Lucian replied calmly. "Think of them as stories that connect to each other. Every event has a cause and an effect. If you understand the narrative behind them, the details will fill themselves in."

Cassandra, for her part, observed these study sessions with a mix of curiosity and amusement, though she rarely intervened. She seemed to prefer enjoying the peaceful atmosphere and offering occasional remarks while working on her own list of personal goals—goals that Helena suspected went beyond mere academics.

When she wasn't immersed in her own studies, Cassandra found subtle ways to entertain herself, her favorite activity being magical chess matches with Helena. These games, however, rarely ended in Helena's favor.

"Checkmate," Cassandra declared, leaning back in her chair with a satisfied smile as her queen moved to claim victory. "That makes nine out of ten. Maybe you should consider finding a new opponent, Helena."

Helena sighed, crossing her arms as she stared at the board. "It's frustrating how you're always several steps ahead. How do you do it?"

"I have far more experience than you," Cassandra replied with a small shrug, though her tone carried a hint of pride. "My parents insisted magical chess was essential—strategy, discipline, thinking calmly under pressure... all of it. It was a sort of training."

"Well, it seems you learned quite well," Helena muttered as she carefully reset the pieces. "Though I still don't understand how you never beat Lucian."

At this, Cassandra's smile faded briefly, replaced by a thoughtful expression. She crossed her arms and fixed her gaze on Helena, her frustration mixed with something more difficult to decipher.

"I did, once. But... I suspect he let me win. To this day, I still can't beat him again."

"You think he let you win?" Helena asked, raising an eyebrow as she made the opening move in their next game.

Cassandra let out a brief sigh, as if recalling the moment.

"Yes, I do. I was just a kid, you know? No matter how much they told me I was improving, I kept losing to him. During one game... I couldn't take it anymore and ended up crying. It was humiliating. Then he suggested we play again. And that time, I won." She paused, a faint smile playing on her lips, tinged with both embarrassment and nostalgia. "At the time, I was too excited to question it, but now that I think about it... it was too easy."

Helena watched Cassandra closely, noticing the conflict in her expression.

"Does it bother you?" she asked gently.

Cassandra took a few seconds to answer, her eyes fixed on the chess pieces as if evaluating her next move in both the game and the conversation.

"Not exactly," she admitted at last, her tone calmer. "That's just... the kind of person he is. He doesn't do it out of malice. I think he just wanted me to be happy. Maybe he thought I needed that victory more than he needed to beat me."

Her gaze softened as she said this, and Helena noted there was more than just frustration in her voice.

"It must still be frustrating, though."

Cassandra let out a short, dry laugh.

"Of course it is." She leaned back, crossing her arms as she studied the board intently. "Lucian has this... way of being, you know? He's always ahead, always unshaken, like nothing can touch him. Sometimes it makes me want to scream at him, because it feels like he never doubts, never falters. But at the same time..."

"At the same time?" Helena prompted, setting the game aside for the moment.

"At the same time, I can't help but admire him." Cassandra's voice lowered slightly, her tone more reflective. "He's always been like that. It's not just that he's brilliant—he has this way of making others want to be better, even without realizing it. It's like he pushes you without pushing you, if that makes sense."

Helena nodded, intrigued by the complexity of Cassandra's feelings.

"Sounds like you really admire him."

"I do," Cassandra admitted, flashing Helena a more sincere smile. "But don't tell him that. His ego's big enough as it is."

The game continued, with Cassandra displaying her usual competitive streak. Helena, however, found the situation rather entertaining, learning more about her friend while strengthening their bond—even through the inevitable defeats.

…

On Christmas Eve, Helena went to bed eagerly awaiting the next day, thinking about all the fun and food ahead, but not expecting any presents. Helena, Cassandra, and Lucian had decided to spend the night together, camping out in comfortable makeshift beds made of cushions and blankets.

When she woke up early on Christmas morning, the first thing she noticed was the warmth of the fireplace and a tingling excitement as she remembered what day it was. But what truly surprised her was the sight of several packages at the foot of her makeshift bed. She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes as Cassandra stirred next to her, still half-asleep.

"What's that?" Helena asked softly, staring at the packages in disbelief.

Lucian was already awake, lounging against a pile of cushions with a book in his hands and a faint smile on his face.

"It's Christmas, Helena. What did you expect?" he replied in his usual calm tone, not even glancing up from his book.

Helena picked up the topmost package. It was wrapped in plain brown paper with a tag that read: To Helena, from Hagrid. Opening it, she found a wooden cross-shaped necklace, somewhat rough but undeniably charming. It was clear Hagrid had made it by hand. Smiling warmly at the thought of the enormous groundskeeper working on the gift, she slipped it over her neck without hesitation.

"It's perfect," she murmured, her fingers brushing over the wooden cross as Cassandra stretched beside her, catlike in her movements.

The next package was much smaller. Inside, she found a note and a fifty-pence coin taped to it. The note read:

"We got your message and sent your Christmas gift. From Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia."

Helena read the words aloud, her tone dripping with sarcasm. Then, without a second thought, she folded the note neatly and tossed it straight into the fireplace, where it was consumed in seconds.

"Really thoughtful, aren't they?" she remarked, her voice dry, as both of her friends looked at her curiously.

"That was your gift?" Cassandra asked, raising an incredulous eyebrow.

Helena shrugged, turning her attention back to the remaining packages. Two boxes caught her eye: one large, wrapped in purple paper with a silver bow, and another smaller one in elegant silver wrapping.

"Hagrid, my aunt and uncle... Who sent these?" she mused aloud, picking up the purple box first.

Opening it, her eyes lit up. Inside was a complete potion set with intricately crafted crystal vials, a stone mortar, a set of scales, and a collection of rare ingredients meticulously organized in tiny compartments.

"This is amazing," Helena breathed, marveling at every detail.

"It's from my family," Cassandra interjected, her soft smile reflecting a mix of pride and sincerity. "My mother insisted on sending it when I mentioned in my letters how much you're into potions. Also, well... I might have mentioned that your set was... let's say, the most basic one on the market."

Helena looked up from the stunning potion kit, raising an eyebrow at Cassandra.

"You told your mother that?"

"Don't take it the wrong way," Cassandra said, holding up a hand in a conciliatory gesture. "It wasn't a critique. She just has a thing about making sure the people around me have the best. And when I mentioned your enthusiasm for potions, she pretty much decided on her own that you deserved something better."

Helena blinked, still overwhelmed by the gift.

"Cassandra, this is... incredible. I don't know how to thank your mother."

"You don't have to," Cassandra replied with a casual shrug, though her eyes glinted with satisfaction. "Just prove her right, okay? Make potions as impressive as that kit."

Helena smiled, warmth spreading through her chest as she carefully inspected each compartment of the set. Once she'd finished, she set it aside and reached for the smaller box. Opening it, she found a delicate hair accessory crafted from silver, designed to resemble intertwined branches, as if inspired by the forest.

"Another gift from your mother?" Helena asked, holding up the accessory to admire it.

"No, that one's from me," Cassandra said with a slight smile, a rare hint of shyness in her tone. "I thought you could use something pretty."

A lump formed in Helena's throat. It was rare for her to receive gifts, let alone ones so thoughtful.

"It's beautiful, Cassandra. Thank you."

She immediately placed the accessory in her hair, and Cassandra nodded in approval.

Helena turned her attention to another package lying nearby. It was a finely polished wooden box with a deep reddish hue and silver accents. It was large, and though she tried to guess what might be inside, she couldn't quite figure it out.

"Let me guess, this one's from you?" she asked, glancing at Lucian.

"Whatever you guess, you're always right," he replied with a playful smirk.

Feeling a mix of excitement and curiosity, Helena opened the box carefully. Her mind went blank at the sight inside. Perfectly nestled within was a brand-new Nimbus 2000.

"Is... is this a Nimbus 2000?" she whispered, as if she needed confirmation of what she was seeing.

"Looks like it," Lucian said with a faint smile, as if it were no big deal. "I noticed the way you looked whenever you watched your brother fly during practices. You seemed almost envious that he had his own broom. So, I thought you'd like one for yourself."

Helena pulled the broom out of the box, her hands trembling slightly as she ran them over its flawless design.

"Lucian, this is incredible. I love it," she said, her voice a mixture of awe and gratitude. Then her expression shifted to one of hesitation as she sighed softly. "But... first years aren't allowed their own brooms."

Lucian let out a low, amused laugh.

"Ah, that rule," he said, making air quotes with his fingers. "I doubt it's that strict, considering your brother already has a Nimbus and plays on the Quidditch team."

"But Harry's an exception, isn't he? McGonagall was the one who—"

"Exactly. An exception that opens the door for more 'exceptions,'" Lucian interrupted with a sly smile. "Besides, who would say anything? Even if they tried, we could always argue that certain professors have their favorites. But honestly, I doubt anyone will have an issue."

Helena was overwhelmed. She looked at the broom, then at Lucian, and finally at Cassandra. Unable to hold back, she set the broom aside and hugged them both tightly, first Cassandra and then Lucian.

"Thank you, thank you! This is… more than I could've ever imagined."

Cassandra smiled, slightly awkward but warm, as she returned the hug briefly.

"I'm glad you liked it."

Lucian, on the other hand, stood stiffly at first, clearly unaccustomed to such gestures, but eventually gave a couple of tentative pats on Helena's back.

"No need to thank me."

When the hug ended, Helena sat back down in front of her gifts, but now a small pang of insecurity began to creep into her thoughts. She glanced at the broomstick and then at the other luxurious and carefully chosen presents she'd received. With some hesitation, she reached under her makeshift bed and pulled out two small boxes she had prepared days earlier.

She had spent hours thinking about what to give Cassandra and Lucian, but now, comparing her gifts to theirs, she felt her efforts were insignificant. Even so, she took a deep breath and decided to hand them over.

She picked up the package wrapped in dark blue paper with a white ribbon and extended it toward Cassandra with a shy smile.

"This is for you."

Cassandra raised an eyebrow, intrigued, and accepted the package. She carefully tore through the paper to reveal a beautifully illustrated book of magical tales. The cover was adorned with gold engravings and intricate designs depicting magical creatures in motion.

"It's a book of magical stories. I thought you might like it… although I know it might seem a little childish," Helena said quickly, unsure of her choice.

Cassandra opened the book and flipped through the first few pages. On them, a small animated scene depicted a unicorn grazing in an enchanted forest. Her expression softened, and a genuine smile spread across her face.

"It's lovely, Helena. My mother used to read me stories like these when I was little. Thank you."

Helena exhaled a breath of relief, the sincerity in Cassandra's eyes easing her nerves.

Next, she picked up the other package, smaller and wrapped in simple paper adorned with silver runic designs. She held it out to Lucian, who took it with curiosity.

"And this one's for you."

Lucian quickly undid the wrapping to reveal a pair of gray gloves, simple but well-made.

"You mentioned your hands are always cold… so I thought something to keep them warm would be the best gift," Helena explained timidly.

For a moment, Lucian was silent, staring at the gloves. Then, a smile—perhaps the most genuine one Helena had ever seen from him—appeared on his face.

"I didn't think you paid attention to that comment," he murmured, a note of surprise in his voice.

Then he looked up at Helena.

"Thank you," he said sincerely, his tone unusually soft.

Helena let out a sigh of relief at their reactions. For a moment, her earlier insecurity melted away, replaced by a warm sense of acceptance. However, just as she thought everything was done, Cassandra, with a curious smile, pointed to a corner of the room.

There, hidden behind the box containing the Nimbus 2000, was a smaller package none of them had noticed before.

"You're not done yet, Helena," Cassandra said, her eyes sparkling with intrigue.

Helena blinked in confusion.

"What? Another one? I didn't see that before."

Lucian leaned slightly to inspect the object, his expression growing more serious as he did.

"Another gift?" Helena murmured, overwhelmed. "You didn't have to give me so much."

Cassandra shook her head firmly.

"It's not from me."

Lucian frowned, his gaze fixed on the package with a cautious air.

"It's not from me either," he said in a low voice.

Helena turned her attention to the small package. It was wrapped in dark paper that starkly contrasted with the others, sealed with red wax bearing an unfamiliar emblem.

"That's... strange," Helena murmured, biting her lip as she debated whether to approach it.

Lucian reached out, stopping her before she could touch it.

"Wait. Let me check it first."

Quickly, he drew his wand and pointed it at the package. A faint glow scanned the box, flickering as though searching for something hidden. After a few seconds, the light disappeared without a trace.

"No curses or dark magic," Lucian announced, pocketing his wand. Yet his tone remained cautious. "But that doesn't mean it isn't suspicious."

Helena glanced at her friends, uncertainty mingling with growing curiosity.

"Should I open it?"

"If I were you, I'd be careful," Cassandra said, though her expression betrayed a similar curiosity.

Helena picked up the package, her hands trembling slightly. She broke the wax seal with care, the paper crinkling softly as she opened it. Inside was a polished silver ring, intricately crafted. Tiny runes adorned its surface, glinting faintly in the light. Beside the ring lay a folded note.

"What does it say?" Cassandra asked, leaning in slightly.

Helena unfolded the note, her fingers brushing against the delicate paper. The handwriting was elegant and fluid, unfamiliar to her, yet the words carried an unexpected weight.

*"This artifact was created by your mother and entrusted to me for refinement before her passing. It is truly one of a kind and must now return to its rightful owner.

I hope you will use it wisely.

Wishing you a very Merry Christmas."*

There was no signature. Helena stared at the note in silence, her fingers tracing the delicate letters.

"What do you think it does?" Cassandra asked softly, though her curiosity was plain.

Helena looked up, still processing both the note and the significance of the ring. Finally, she took a deep breath.

"I guess there's only one way to find out."

With a determined gesture, she slid the ring onto her finger. The moment the silver touched her skin, a soft, silvery glow enveloped her. Before she could say a word, she vanished before Cassandra and Lucian's eyes.

"Helena!" Cassandra exclaimed, stepping back, her wide eyes fixed on the empty space.

"I'm here," Helena replied quickly, though her voice sounded distant, muffled, as if coming from somewhere far away.

Lucian, who had instinctively raised his wand, lowered it as realization dawned. Still, his gaze remained fixed on the spot where Helena had been.

"It's an invisibility artifact," he murmured, his tone filled with both admiration and thoughtfulness. Then, unexpectedly, his expression softened with genuine emotion. "Helena, this is remarkable. Your mother was... extraordinary."

Still invisible, Helena took a moment to process his reaction before carefully removing the ring. She reappeared before them, her eyes shining with a mix of awe and excitement.

"Why does it seem so incredible to you?" she asked, her curiosity evident as she looked at Lucian.

Lucian studied the ring in her hand, his expression one of fascination as he explained. 

"Invisibility cloaks are considered treasures in the magical world, and for good reason. They're extremely rare. That's because there are only two known ways to create them." He paused. "The first involves Demiguise hair, a magical creature that can become invisible. Capturing one is no small feat."

"And the second?" Helena asked, crossing her arms and leaning slightly forward.

"The second requires a wizard with unparalleled mastery of enchantments—someone who devotes years of study and practice." Lucian gestured toward the ring with deliberate care, his tone growing more serious. "But this..." he said, looking intently at the artifact, "This doesn't fall into either category."

Helena frowned.

"Then how did my mother make it?"

Lucian shook his head, clearly both impressed and puzzled.

"That's what makes it so astonishing. This ring doesn't use conventional methods. It's imbued with a different kind of magic. Your mother might have discovered something entirely new... or even redefined what we thought we knew about enchantments and runes."

Cassandra studied the ring with renewed interest, though her expression remained reserved.

"That would explain why it's described as special." She turned to Helena with a small, knowing smile. "It seems you have a lot to learn about her."

Helena nodded slowly, holding the ring between her fingers. While Lucian and Cassandra's words stirred a deep sense of pride in her mother's abilities, they also brought new questions. What other secrets could this ring hold? And what else might her mother have accomplished that no one knew about?

"It's an incredible gift," she finally whispered, slipping the ring back onto her finger. This time, it felt as though the artifact recognized her, fitting perfectly, as if it had always been meant for her.

…

"Helena!"

The shout echoed through the corridor as Helena emerged from the dungeons. She turned quickly, startled, to see Harry running toward her, slightly out of breath.

"Finally found you," he said with a grin, handing her a clumsily wrapped package. "Here, it's from Ron's mum."

Helena eyed the package curiously before carefully unwrapping it. Inside, she found a hand-knitted green sweater, adorned with a gray "H" stitched onto the front. She looked up to see Harry wearing a similar sweater, though his "H" was stitched in black.

Without hesitation, she slipped the sweater on and immediately felt its cozy warmth. A small smile crept onto her face.

"It's pretty comfy, isn't it?" Harry asked, smiling back at her.

Helena nodded. "It's really thoughtful of her. Make sure to thank Ron and his mother for me, will you?"

Harry nodded enthusiastically. "Of course, I will."

"Good." Helena adjusted the sweater, but then noticed Harry glancing around nervously, as if worried someone might be watching.

"By the way," he said in a lower voice, "I've got something to show you."

Helena raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What a coincidence," she murmured, her curiosity piqued. "I've got something to show you too, but this isn't the place. Follow me."

Harry quickly agreed, trailing behind her as she led the way through the castle. Helena made her way toward an empty classroom Lucian had once recommended for private moments. As they walked, she noticed Harry carrying a package tucked under his arm.

Once inside, Helena carefully closed the door and turned to face her brother. Before she could speak, Harry unwrapped the package with excitement, revealing a shimmering silver cloak that glinted in the dim light of the room.

"Look at this," he said eagerly, draping the cloak over his shoulders.

In an instant, his body began to vanish, leaving only his head visible. Helena gasped softly, impressed, though a strange sense of familiarity tugged at her thoughts.

"Isn't it incredible?" Harry asked, pulling the cloak off to reappear fully.

Helena nodded slowly, but her attention had already shifted. She was fiddling with something hanging on a chain around her neck.

"It is, but take a look at this," she said, removing a ring from the chain and sliding it onto her finger.

Immediately, Helena vanished completely, leaving Harry staring in shock.

"Helena!" he exclaimed, stepping toward where his sister had been moments ago.

She reappeared behind him, holding the ring in her hand with a small smile. "What do you think?" she asked, enjoying his reaction.

It took Harry a moment to process, but then he broke into a wide grin. "So you've got something special too."

"I do," Helena replied, though her tone was more contemplative. "The strange thing is, it came with a note. It said Mum worked on this artifact before… well, before she passed. It also said it was time for it to return to its rightful owner."

Harry frowned, considering her words, but he quickly dismissed the seriousness of the matter. "That's amazing. My cloak was a gift too. It came with a note saying it belonged to Dad."

Helena studied him closely, crossing her arms. "Really? Don't you think it's odd that we both got gifts tied to Mum and Dad at the same time?"

Harry shrugged in his usual carefree manner. "I guess, but everything here is kind of strange, isn't it? That's just how magic works."

Helena wasn't convinced. She stayed silent, but the coincidence felt far too deliberate to be random. She couldn't help but wonder who had sent these gifts—and why now.

"Well," she said finally, looking at the ring in her hand, "at least we both have something of our parents."

Harry lifted the cloak with a mischievous grin. "What do you say we test how good they are? We could explore the castle."

Helena gave him a stern look, though a spark of amusement shone in her eyes. She knew it wasn't the best idea, but the thrill of sharing this moment with her brother was hard to resist.

"Fine," she relented with a sigh. "But only after dinner, and just for a little while, Harry. If we get caught, you're doing the explaining."

"Deal," Harry replied, laughing as he tucked the cloak back into its package.