According to Christmas tradition, gifts were supposed to go under the tree on Christmas Eve and get opened the next morning.
That was the complete process.
Harry and Vincent had never followed it.
Even under the Dursleys’ tree there had always been something for Harry—sometimes just a few coins, but something had to be there.
Vincent never followed the process either.
In the past he simply handed the gift to Harry early, or gave it straight on Christmas Day.
He never left it under any tree.
This year was no different.
Harry had long since adapted to the routine and returned the favor on time.
Vincent received a good quill—exactly the style he preferred.
By their usual custom he should have given Harry a box of excellent chocolates again.
Since Harry Potter himself had already filed a formal rejection of chocolate, Vincent decided to be generous and accommodate him.
In the old days, with the Dursleys to consider, he had only given simple things that would belong to Harry immediately and could never be stolen.
Those had been gifts for his observation subject.
Harry was as extraordinary as he was.
The Dursleys were nothing.
Why should they get anything Vincent gave, even if it was trash he had tossed aside?
As for storing longer-lasting things at his own house for Harry to use later… back then Vincent hadn’t cared about any of that.
As long as Harry had only one person he could rely on, whether Vincent was truly thinking of Harry’s good or not had never mattered.
Vincent no longer thought that way.
The past was past.
Harry would forget it soon enough, and there was no need to bring it up again.
This year there would be no chocolate.
He decided on a comprehensive potions manual—the basic beginner version.
Harry would definitely need it.
On top of that he could throw in some broomstick care tools.
It was Christmas.
The boy deserved a little something pleasant.
Vincent felt he was being remarkably soft-hearted, showing this much patience even toward an observation subject.
He still used cold words when referring to everyone around him.
Whether he still looked at them with the same coldness as before was something only he knew.
Everything had been fine.
Dumbledore’s issues could wait.
Even if the man had come over and said a few strange things, maybe Christmas had made even Dumbledore sentimental.
Vincent didn’t care what the elderly wizard was up to.
As long as Dumbledore didn’t actively cause him trouble, he was willing to spend the rest of his school years in peace.
Unfortunately, Hogwarts was never a peaceful place.
Young wizards had priorities.
Right now nothing mattered more than Christmas Eve dinner.
He did not want to miss it and draw special attention from Dumbledore.
Tomorrow the most important thing would become Christmas dinner.
He hoped to get through these two days safely, without stirring up any trouble.
As a “Riddle,” he was already special enough.
Right now he needed a little ordinary.
That was what he thought—before he saw Theodore.
Before he saw Theodore!
“Why are you here?” After the failed attempt to block the path last time, Vincent had not deliberately approached Theodore again.
It wasn’t fear.
He had simply come out on the losing end of their last exchange and hadn’t yet found a way to reverse the situation.
Until he did, he was willing to keep a temporary distance.
Once a better method presented itself, of course he would seek out the person who held his excessive attention once more.
Before ever speaking to Theodore, Vincent had already made thorough experimental notes on him.
Theodore’s relationship with his family was not good—similar to Vincent’s own—but it shouldn’t have reached the point of not going home for Christmas.
He wasn’t an orphan.
Pure-blood families, or anyone with a bit of money who considered themselves upper-class, always had their principles.
At Christmas, even if they skipped the parties, the family still had to gather and put on a harmonious face for outsiders, quietly signaling stability and the continued ability to cooperate and make money.
How could Theodore possibly be at Hogwarts?
Why would he stay at school?
Vincent tried hard to hide his surprise.
The conclusion he had drawn from observation turned out completely different from reality.
He rarely made mistakes on this sort of thing.
Whether it was deliberate arrangement by Headmaster Dumbledore or not, the seating areas of different houses always shared borders.
Theodore and Vincent just happened to be the two lucky ones sitting side by side right at the boundary between their houses.
“Why are you here?” There was not a trace of gentleness in the words—only a stern interrogation.
If it had been anyone else, Theodore would have felt annoyance by now.
But seeing that it was this mentally questionable Vincent, he somehow felt relieved instead.
Last time the boy had done something strange to block his path and then said a bunch of baffling things.
Now, several days later, the moment they met again he was saying more strange things.
It fit his less-than-stable mental state perfectly.
Were all Ravenclaws like this?
Serious enough when studying, but a little crazy the rest of the time.
“Yes, as you can see, I’m already sitting here.
That opposed to spending Christmas Eve with me?
How truly unfortunate for you.” Theodore’s voice was cold.
“Whatever attitude you take, I’m already here and I’m not leaving.
Just put up with it.” Vincent could guarantee this was no illusion—the temperature around them had definitely dropped.
He watched the wand that Theodore hadn’t fully tucked back into his sleeve and silently pulled his own robes tighter.
“Thank you for not using any other special methods this time.” At their last meeting Vincent had suspected the unusually high temperature around Theodore came from an improved Warming Charm.
Theodore’s answer had been that his family was rich enough and the fabric warm enough.
The Cooling Charm now directed at Vincent stayed within controllable limits.
It didn’t turn him into a block of ice, nor did Theodore fling out any aggressive spells.
Vincent was not narcissistic enough to think this was special tolerance on Theodore’s part.
They weren’t making a huge scene, yet the Head of Slytherin still glanced their way.
Apparently this was a shared understanding: whatever they wanted to do, at least don’t attract the attention of professors or the headmaster.
Dumbledore seemed to smile in their direction, then stood and called for everyone to take their seats.
As usual he would say a few warm words so people could settle down and enjoy the Christmas feast.
Harry sat among the Weasleys, talking with his friends, and hadn’t noticed that Vincent had already sat down.
Only when Headmaster Dumbledore began speaking did he realize his friend was once again sitting unusually close to that Theodore from last time.
Well.
Since Vincent had already accepted Theodore as a friend, then as Vincent’s longtime friend, Harry would try to understand and respect the choice.
Slytherin had Malfoy-type young masters with no manners.
Surely it also had people like Theodore who could hold a normal conversation?
Harry’s gaze met Vincent’s.
He saw his friend give him a small nod and relaxed, turning back to enjoy the Christmas Eve feast.
This was the first Christmas Eve in his memory that he had spent completely away from the Dursleys, surrounded only by the friends he liked.
He felt happy.
Christmas Eve, Christmas—days that symbolized reunion.
Now he had companions he could celebrate with, people who made him feel happy.
Peaceful moments between Vincent and Theodore were rare.
Only in Potions class could they manage a few sentences that counted as conversation.
Theodore could sense Vincent’s excessive attention and the probing gaze that always landed on him.
And now he had to spend Christmas Eve with him.
Severus never asked why any of his students stayed at school for Christmas.
Spending it anywhere was the same.
He was a solitary man himself and had no extra energy to spare on the mental health of students.
Frankly, asking Severus Snape to care about students’ mental health would be the real test of their psychological limits.
Theodore had never imagined he would one day eat Christmas Eve dinner with Severus Snape.