The Scottish Highlands, where Hogwarts was hidden, were a massive distance from London.
Just like his trip at the start of the school year, Richie boarded the Hogwarts Express in the morning. It wasn't until past five in the afternoon that the train finally pulled into King's Cross Station in London.
Dragging his trunk off the train, Richie quickly spotted his parents waiting for him on the platform.
"Oh, my little Richie! You look so skinny!"
Elena Harland practically tackled him. She scooped him into a massive hug, aggressively showering his cheeks with loud kisses. Several passing travelers turned to stare at the overwhelming display of affection.
"Mom, please put me down," Richie groaned. Even with his naturally thick skin, the sudden, hyper-public explosion of motherly love was definitely making him uncomfortable.
Hearing his plea, Elena finally set him down, cupping his face in her hands. She looked completely heartbroken.
"I never should have let you go to that magic school. Only seeing you once every six months? What kind of parent can handle that?"
She sighed, then immediately brightened up. "Come on. Let's go home. I made dinner! I learned how to make a cheese pizza just for you!"
Richie's face completely froze. He instinctively shot a look over her shoulder.
Standing a few feet back with his arms crossed was his father, Denton, wearing a faint, deeply suspicious smile.
"Actually," Denton chimed in smoothly, "your mother was so excited she dragged us here two hours early to wait. I ended up starving, so I grabbed a burger."
He gave Richie a deeply meaningful look. "You know how it is, Richie. That entire pizza? It's all yours."
Looking at Denton's smug smile, Richie instantly felt a wave of absolute dread.
He didn't eat a burger because he was hungry, Richie realized. He ate a burger to specifically dodge Mom's cooking! "Hmph! Don't listen to him, Richie. He just doesn't appreciate good food. Tonight's dinner is entirely for you!" Elena declared proudly.
Hearing his mother's absolute confidence, Richie just closed his eyes in pure defeat.
A little while later, Richie was sitting in the backseat of the family car, cruising back toward their hometown.
Number 9 Silver Maple Road, Maple District, Prow County.
The car slowly rolled into the garage.
Stepping out into the familiar driveway and breathing in the familiar scent of his neighborhood, Richie let out a long breath, watching his breath turn to mist in the cold air.
It had only been six months, but it genuinely felt like a lifetime had passed. If it weren't for the vinewood wand tucked inside his jacket, he would have thought the whole magic thing was just an insane dream.
"I'm home!" Richie yelled, sprinting up the steps and into the house.
"That boy..." Elena murmured, watching him run with a fond smile.
The inside of the house was completely decked out for the holidays. Garlands were strung across the walls, and a small Christmas tree wrapped in colorful lights sat perfectly in the corner of the living room.
After heading up to his room to unpack and taking a long, incredibly hot shower, Richie finally sat down to face his mother's homemade cheese pizza.
To his absolute shock, it was actually amazing.
The cheese pull was perfect, the crust was perfectly crispy, and the overall flavor easily rivaled anything he'd eaten from the Hogwarts kitchens.
Seeing the genuine surprise on Richie's face, Denton and Elena burst out laughing, looking exactly like two kids who had just pulled off a massive prank.
"Alright, Richie. You've had a long trip. Get some sleep," Denton said, giving his shoulder a firm pat. "We're up early tomorrow to shovel the driveway before the guests arrive."
The Harland family—on Denton's side—consisted of three siblings. Denton was the oldest, followed by a brother and a sister. Since Richie's grandparents had passed away, the extended family really only ever got together for Christmas; they didn't really talk the rest of the year.
Elena smiled softly as she stood nearby. "Get some rest. We actually have a surprise to tell you tomorrow, too."
Assuming they were just hyping up a special Christmas present, Richie didn't think much of it and didn't ask any follow-up questions.
After dinner, he headed back to his room, collapsed onto his incredibly familiar, deeply comfortable bed, and immediately crashed.
December 25th. Christmas Day. Richie actually managed to sleep in a little, a rare event for him. Eventually, though, Denton dragged him out of his warm bed and forced him to aggressively layer up.
The fireplace in the living room was already roaring.
Looking overly energized, Denton led Richie into the dining room for a quick breakfast of sandwiches before grabbing a pair of snow shovels and heading outside.
The entire neighborhood was buried under a thick blanket of pure white snow. The second Richie stepped out the door, he violently shivered.
At Hogwarts, students rarely had to bundle up this much. For one, wizarding robes were made of magical, highly insulated materials. For another, the castle itself was protected by ancient weather-regulating magic, keeping the interior comfortably warm all year round.
The Muggle world, however, didn't have those luxuries. When it got cold, Muggles lit fires and engaged in heat-generating physical labor—like violently shoveling snow.
"Alright, Richie. Clock's ticking. Let's get to work," Denton said, brushing a fresh layer of snowflakes off the hood of the car.
"Got it," Richie replied, tugging his thick gloves tighter over his wrists.
The father-son duo started on opposite ends of the driveway and began hacking away at the snow.
"Hey, Richie..." Denton started, casually tossing a shovelful of snow to the side. "Do you remember that newspaper you signed us up for from your world?"
"You mean The Quibbler?" Richie asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, that's the one. I'm actually really curious. Is any of the stuff in there actually real?"
Denton leaned heavily on his shovel and turned to look at his son. "I read an article about a wizard who apparently rode his broomstick all the way to the moon. And another one about these weird, invisible bugs that burrow into people's brains? And something about singing water-demons living at the bottom of lakes?"
Richie's brain totally flatlined. What the hell is he talking about?
It took him a second to process the sheer absurdity of the articles.
"Oh. No, Dad. I'm pretty sure I mentioned this in a letter... almost everything published in The Quibbler is completely unverified nonsense. You really just need to treat it like a sci-fi magazine."
Denton scratched his head. "Well, I actually used the contact address they printed in the back and sent the editor a letter asking about it. And he wrote back saying it was all one hundred percent true..."
"Wait, what?!" Richie froze, completely stunned. "You mailed a letter to the editor of The Quibbler? And he actually replied? How did you even do that?"
"It's really not that complicated, Richie," Denton said, immediately shifting into 'Dad-Lecture' mode. Assuming his son had spent so much time reading magic books that he had forgotten basic life skills, Denton confidently started breaking it down.
"To mail a letter, you just need a standard envelope. You stick a stamp in the corner, write down the address, and drop it off at the local Muggle post office..."
Listening to his dad earnestly explain how the postal service worked, Richie just let out a heavy sigh.
That wasn't what he meant at all. He meant how did a Muggle use the standard British postal service to successfully deliver mail to a wizarding publication? And more importantly, how did Xenophilius Lovegood receive it and reply without triggering a massive violation of the International Statute of Secrecy?
Did the Ministry of Magic seriously just ignore The Quibbler completely?
Whatever. As long as the Ministry hadn't shown up at their door to wipe his dad's memory, Richie decided not to stress over it.
Once Denton finished his incredibly detailed lecture on mail delivery, Richie firmly reminded him for the tenth time to treat The Quibbler strictly as a joke book.
Denton eagerly agreed, but looking at his dad's face, Richie highly doubted he was actually taking the warning seriously.
It seemed Xenophilius Lovegood had successfully brainwashed his father.
Richie just frowned and went back to violently shoveling snow.