Everyday Life of a Top Student at Hogwarts

Chapter 292 A Gift from Afar and Observations in Romania

Chapter 292 A Gift from Afar and Observations in Romania

The holiday time flew by, like sand slipping through my fingers. Only three days remained before returning to Hogwarts.

Karen's rune engraving practice has come to an end; he has mastered the basic variant runes, and the rest requires further in-depth study back at school. His theoretical research has also hit a bottleneck; many subtleties of spatial extension cannot be grasped through mere theoretical discussion, but require practice and experience.

In the afternoon, fine snowflakes tapped against the window again, blurring the view outside. Karen was in her study organizing her study notes, carefully categorizing the parchment filled with formulas and runic structures. Just then, her communication quill vibrated with a familiar sensation.

It's a message from Fabian. This time, the handwriting suggests he's particularly excited, even more so than before:

[Karen! Yesterday I experienced the real wizarding festival here, although it's a few days later than the traditional festival in England! It was so much fun! Almost all the wizards in the whole village came out! They have a special magical cold firework ritual that has been passed down for a long time. It requires several wizards to simultaneously shoot sparks at a specific frequency with their wands to ignite the central pillar of flame. Once lit, it doesn't generate any heat, but it emits a dazzling, flowing color like the aurora borealis, lasting for a full half hour. At the end, warm, glowing dust carrying blessings falls, which is said to bring good luck for the whole year!]

At the celebratory feast, there was a special kind of pie that made you burp uncontrollably, and the bubbles you exhaled were actually crystal-clear snowflakes that floated lightly for a long time before slowly dissipating! (Grandma secretly told me that this was to commemorate the winter spirit that protects this forest, and each snowflake bubble represents a blessing from the spirit.) That evening, as everyone gathered around the huge fireplace, Grandma told an ancient story passed down through generations about the guardian spirit of this forest. She said it was a giant made of eternal ice and snow and the light of winter stars, appearing only quietly on the coldest winter nights to protect children and animals lost in blizzards—the story had a particularly magical atmosphere, and it's a pity I probably won't have the chance to see this guardian spirit in person. I tried to use magic to record some of the cold fireworks I saw; I wonder if sending it to you with a quill pen will result in distortion—I hope you can feel a little of the festive atmosphere here!

Along with the information, a faint magical image attempted to coalesce, eventually forming only a blurry, ever-changing magical mist with blue-green and silver-white light spots, its specific shape indistinguishable. However, its cool yet dazzling magical texture was enough to make one imagine how beautiful and astonishing the primal and pure magical cold flames were.

Karen was captivated by Fabian's vivid description, as if she herself could feel the warm, magical celebration in that distant village through the quill pen. She replied with a smile: "It sounds like an incredibly magical and heartwarming traditional festival! The snowflake pies and the collective lighting of cold fireworks were so cool, and the story of the guardian spirit is enchanting. Thank you for sharing all of this; it made me feel like I was experiencing a magical Romanian Christmas firsthand. Although the magical images conveyed through the quill pen were blurry, I captured the unique feeling of ice and snow intertwined with splendor—it was beautiful! But if possible, take some photos and tell us all about it when you return to school!"

Almost immediately after he replied to Fabian, the quill pen vibrated slightly again. It was Ernesto's daily report, as concise and punctual as ever:

Everything is as usual. The castle is utterly silent. Data from all monitoring nodes has been stable over the past 24 hours, with no abnormal fluctuations and readings remaining at historically low levels. A snowball fight broke out in the castle, and Filch was caught in the crossfire; he's been causing trouble for the past two days. The telescope lenses in the Astronomical Tower are frosting over again due to the low temperatures, and the cleaning process is taking extra time, but it's still quiet. See you later. —EG

Karen quickly replied: [Data received, thanks. Did you receive Fabian's letter? The wizard festival there sounds interesting! Only three days left before returning to school; your exclusive observatory time will be over.]

I had just finished a call with my roommate when I suddenly heard a rapid and clear "tap-tap" sound downstairs, different from the sound of wind and snow—it was an owl tapping on the window.

Karen was puzzled. Whose letter could it be at this time? Could it be from Nico and the others? He hurried downstairs, opened the door, and a blast of cold air mixed with snowflakes rushed out. There stood impatiently on the snow-covered threshold, a greywood owl that looked like it had just completed a long flight. Its feathers were ruffled by the wind and snow, and tiny ice crystals clung to the edge of its beak. A slender wooden box, tightly wrapped in some kind of dark waterproof tarpaulin, was firmly tied to one of its legs. Upon seeing Karen, it let out a disgruntled cry and eagerly stretched out the leg bound with the box.

Karen's heart skipped a beat; he immediately realized this was most likely something sent by Nico and Castor. He carefully reached out and skillfully untied the slightly heavy wooden box. As soon as the ropes were untied, the weary greywood owl, not wanting to linger a moment longer, took flight before Karen could even return to the house for food, quickly disappearing into the hazy, snowy sky.

He closed the door, shutting out the cold, and hurried back to his room with the wooden box. The box was heavier than he'd expected; it was made of some unusually thick, dark hardwood, its surface polished smooth, with no markings other than the wood's natural grain. But his gaze was immediately drawn to the center of the lid—there was a unique, fused sealing wax stamp clearly imprinted there. One side of the wax stamp featured a variation of Nico's signature, intricate yet elegant Philosopher's Stone symbol; the other side was a simple, sharp, geometrically beautiful pattern, like a shattered star or a condensed ridge—undoubtedly Master Castor's mark. The two contrasting symbols were not simply juxtaposed, but cleverly interwoven and fused together, forming a harmonious yet dynamic joint imprint.

Karen's heart skipped a beat. He found a small letter opener, carefully cut along the edge of the sturdy sealing wax, and then gently lifted the lid of the box.

The moment the box was opened, a scent mingled with the aroma of ancient wood, parchment, and a very faint fragrance wafted out. In the center of the box lay an object, perfectly still.

It was a small, antique-looking box made of warm, dark walnut wood with naturally beautiful, delicate wood grain. It was about the size of a very thick Bible or a large dictionary, with all the edges meticulously rounded and smooth, giving it a wonderful feel to the touch. The box was unusually clean, without any obvious keyholes, hinges, switches, or exposed magical runes; it looked exactly like a finely crafted work of art, perhaps a box used to store precious letters or jewelry.

Beside the walnut box lay a folded, plain-looking strip of parchment. Karen gently picked it up and unfolded it; on it was Nico's familiar, elegant, and flowing handwriting:

Karen:

Understanding and integrating theory is far more valuable than simply copying and relying on existing products. I hope you will always approach this with the mindset of a researcher and learner. For Lily's sake, Castor and I added some convenient little features. You can try them out yourself later.

I hope Lily will like this belated Christmas gift from afar.

Enjoy using it!

——NL&K.G.】

His gaze returned to the serene walnut box. He took a deep breath and, following the method he had used to open the portable alchemy workshop, gently placed his palm on the center of the smooth wooden lid, silently contemplating the intention to "open," and then channeled his magic.

However, just as his thoughts were flashing and he hadn't even had time to mobilize his magic, a change occurred inside the box. Karen's "Eye of Truth" clearly saw that an extremely intricate guiding magic circle inside the box had been triggered. It coordinated the energy contained within the box to complete a certain identification and confirmation step.

Immediately afterwards, on the surface of the box lid, among the originally seamless wood grain, a few extremely fine lines seemed to be infused with a spirit, flowing with an almost imperceptible glimmer of light, quickly outlining an ancient runic symbol representing "access" that existed for only two seconds before disappearing, and the box returned to its completely ordinary state.

But Karen knew that the silent interaction just now had already completed a kind of verification. This practice space was designed differently from Karen's alchemy workshop; it didn't require the user to provide any magic power to activate its core functions through specific, non-magical methods. This was undoubtedly to make it convenient for Lily, and even her parents, to enter the space when needed. It must be said, the instructors had considered everything extremely carefully.