Dumbledore's suggestion wasn't just a relief for Hagrid and Anthony; Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked thrilled too. The moment Professor Kettleborn had hauled away the crates of Chimaeras, they wriggled out from under the Invisibility Cloak.
"Mum and Dad always said Dumbledore could fix anything," Ron beamed. "Brilliant, Hagrid! Now you just have to, er… pass some exams." His voice trailed off, a flicker of doubt crossing his face.
Harry nudged him with an elbow. "You can relax now, can't you, Hagrid?"
"A Chimaera Handling Licence…" Hermione muttered, thinking. "I'm sure I've seen something about that somewhere. Maybe on the careers advice leaflets…"
"Careers advice?" Ron turned to Harry. "Hey, we're only in second year, right?"
Hermione looked slightly offended. "Just because some people walk past the noticeboard like it's written in invisible ink, doesn't mean everyone does."
Even if Hermione and Ron had called a temporary truce, there was still a current of tension between them. The most obvious sign: they both preferred to talk to Harry or Hagrid whenever possible. Still, they were both here in Hagrid's hut.
"That's very kind of you, Hermione," Hagrid said gratefully.
"Indeed it is, Miss Granger," Anthony added. "I think I've seen those pamphlets too. Though without your reminder, I doubt I'd have remembered."
Hermione looked a bit more pleased. She waved a dismissive hand. "It's nothing, Hagrid. I think I might have seen a book on it in the library too, when I was just browsing…" She paused, her brow furrowed in a thoughtful, almost adult way. "Would you like me to help you make a revision schedule, Hagrid? I haven't studied Chimaera Handling either."
"Um, well, I…" Hagrid stammered, looking overwhelmed.
"Oh, right," Hermione said decisively. "I'll make the schedule. Let's see… we need the permit by the end of term… first pass finished by May for sure… all notes compiled by March… and we need to locate all the key concepts before December. Do you think they'll have a syllabus or exam outline, Professor Anthony?"
Anthony considered it. "I don't know, but Professor Kettleborn probably knows the details."
Hagrid, who had been staring blankly at the complex timeline Hermione was sketching on the corner of a Daily Prophet, perked up slightly. "Right, I can ask him. Blimey, I should've asked him just now."
"Even if he remembers the process and format," Anthony cautioned, "there's no telling if the standards have changed after all these years."
"That's alright, Hagrid," Hermione said, already adding subdivisions to her timeline. "I believe you can do it."
Hagrid's expression suggested he was starting to doubt it himself.
Anthony saw Harry lean over to Ron and whisper something. Ron rolled his eyes, but a small smile appeared on his face.
…
Anthony saw Hermione's somewhat crowded revision plan. "Professor Dumbledore said it would be difficult!" she had argued defensively. He was beginning to understand why every professor at Hogwarts was impressed by this young Gryffindor.
Beyond offering to help Hagrid search the library—including the Restricted Section—for anything on Chimaeras, Anthony couldn't think of much else to do. So, content to leave Hagrid in the hands of his three equally concerned friends, he devoted most of his energy back to researching blood magic.
As Dumbledore had said, Voldemort was waiting for his chance to return. The Ministry was hostile toward Hogwarts. Blood-purist supporters were trying to interfere with the school's internal affairs through the Ministry and the Board of Governors. High Inquisitor Umbridge was about to descend on Hogwarts… Considering his own status, Anthony wasn't sure if he'd have another chance to research dark magic so openly, practically in broad daylight, within the library.
He spent so much time there that he even missed the discussion between Professors Sprout and McGonagall. Instead, he heard the news from Professor Flitwick: Ron and Hermione had argued again, but apparently, even they thought the reason was a bit silly, so they'd made up quickly. The trio were once again an inseparable unit around the castle.
"What was the argument about this time?" Anthony asked, watching the teapot pour him a cup.
Professor Flitwick chuckled. "You know about Hagrid's upcoming exam, yes?"
"I do," Anthony said. "Why?"
"Miss Granger is leaving for Christmas, so she asked Mr. Potter to remind Hagrid to read certain case files while she's gone," Flitwick explained, taking a sip. "He needs to know all the cases involving improper Chimaera custody or handling, and what penalties he and his Chimaera would face if something happened."
"What does that have to do with Mr. Weasley?" Anthony asked, puzzled. He stood up to get a biscuit, dunking it in his tea. Neither he nor Flitwick had touched the giant carnivorous plants, so they were all huddled quietly in the corner, looking much healthier.
"All the Weasleys signed up to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas this week," Flitwick said.
"All of them?" Anthony said, surprised. "Oh, right. Arthur and Molly aren't in Britain this year."
His pen pal Arthur Weasley had written excitedly ages ago about their Christmas plans to visit Bill—a curse-breaker for Gringotts in Egypt—and asked Anthony to pass on their greetings to Charlie.
"Yes, yes," Flitwick nodded. "Mr. Weasley signed the list, but Mr. Potter didn't. He'd already promised Sirius Black he'd spend Christmas at Grimmauld Place.
"So, when Miss Granger asked Mr. Potter to remind Hagrid about the reading while he was staying, Mr. Weasley accused her of only thinking about her own convenience, and said if she really wanted to help Hagrid, she should stay too. Miss Granger said he didn't need to take his frustration about Mr. Potter not staying with him out on her."
"Oh…" Anthony said.
Flitwick took a biscuit himself, bit into it, and settled back comfortably in his chair. "Mr. Weasley said it wasn't about him staying alone, it was about Miss Granger's general habit of being bossy and trying to run everyone's lives. Miss Granger said that was fine, she'd never plan his exam revision for him again. Mr. Weasley said he'd be delighted, and without a nagging voice in his ear, he'd have a grand time at school and would definitely forget to send her a Christmas present."
"Hmm…"
"Then Mr. Potter interrupted, saying he could spend Christmas at Hogwarts with Mr. Black, and Mr. Black would definitely agree. Both Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley immediately refused that idea. Mr. Potter said, 'Alright, now you're agreeing on something'… and then they all laughed.
"Miss Granger apologized that Mr. Weasley had to stay for Christmas, especially since he'd just lost his pet and was feeling down. Mr. Weasley said he probably would need Miss Granger's help with revision towards the end of term—if there was a bit more free time in the schedule, that'd be grand—and that he'd remember to remind Hagrid and send Miss Granger a present."
Anthony couldn't help but say, "It sounds like you were right there, Professor Flitwick?"
"Oh, not me," Flitwick said cheerfully. "Minerva was apparently out for a walk at the time."
…
The days grew shorter, the ice on the Black Lake grew thicker. No more snow fell, and the remaining snow cover grudgingly dwindled day by day under the biting wind and the few precious hours of weak sunlight. The forest outside the castle stood stripped of leaves, bare branches pointing at a dull, grey sky.
Compared to the cold, bleak winter outside, Hogwarts was warm and bright. Decorations of holly and mistletoe already hung from the ceilings. Hagrid had picked out several fine, large trees from the Forbidden Forest and nearby woods, ready to be dragged into the castle as Christmas trees.
Lockhart, true to his word, had transformed all his silver decorations from the "Lockhart's Lock-Your-Heart Club" to gold, and set them floating through the air. Anthony saw several of the golden balloons wobble into the enchanted floating candles with a pop, startling the students eating below.
One piece of burst balloon rubber even drifted down to land on Neville Longbottom's head. Neville choked on his porridge, coughing violently, his round face turning bright red as he flailed and knocked over half the things on the table: milk, pumpkin juice, a plate of egg tarts, and a platter of bacon. His toad, Trevor, took the opportunity to hop away.
As the holidays drew near, the students grew more and more distracted. Almost everyone was talking about their Christmas plans.
Professor Sprout had switched all her recent lessons to a creeping vine that climbed fir trees like festive tinsel, turning her greenhouse into a bustling Christmas ribbon workshop. Professor Flitwick taught Cheering Charms to the third-years and had the fifth and seventh years review them, resulting in students walking around with unnaturally wide, fixed grins.
Anthony spent two classes introducing students to Muggle British Christmas traditions and stories, and another showing them Professor Burbage's collection of Santa Claus figures from around the world.
Even Professor McGonagall had her lower years practicing turning needles into fir tree needles, while the older students learned to transfigure oranges into bells. The first student to make one jingle earned house points. Once, Anthony saw the fourth-year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws leaving the Transfiguration classroom, tossing oddly-shaped bells to Cedric Diggory, who caught them easily to applause.
On the other hand, Snape marched steadily on with lessons on Forgetfulness Potions, Hair-Raising Potions, and Calming Draughts. The door to the hospital wing kept opening due to careless student mistakes. If Anthony hadn't seen Snape's expression upon seeing Sirius Black, he wouldn't have thought that face could grow any more sour.
Two days before the holidays, it finally snowed at Hogwarts. Everyone was delighted, even the students who would have to struggle through the snow with their luggage in a few days.
Hermione seemed to have finally remembered that Hagrid wouldn't be staying at Hogwarts for Christmas either, and had produced a list of books he ought to pack. When Anthony trudged through the snow to Hagrid's hut, he found the half-giant staring blankly at a bed covered in books.
"Henry!" Hagrid said with immense relief. "Have you packed your things yet?"
Anthony waved his wand, shrinking all the books and packing them neatly, fitting them perfectly into Hagrid's moleskin bag.
"Yes, I don't have much to pack." Just a cat, a chicken, and a rat were essential. "But I came for another reason. My application for a Portkey was denied by the Ministry. Do you know anyone with an international Floo connection set up in their fireplace?"
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