Grafton Manor.
Morning sunlight spilled over the fresh Christmas snow.
Lucien slowly woke on his soft, warm bed, stretching lazily before glancing toward the foot of it—where a small mountain of gifts and envelopes had mysteriously appeared overnight.
Yesterday he'd spent all of Christmas Eve with Aunt Penelope. Other than her not-so-subtle hints about arranging a date for him, the evening had been pleasantly ordinary.
With a casual wave of his hand, the gift boxes lifted into the air and lined up neatly, waiting for him to unwrap them one by one—very much like first-years lining up outside the Great Hall before the Sorting Ceremony.
The very first gift already caught him off guard with a surprise.
It was a Floo Network connection contract from Daphne. All he needed to do was toss this magically-bound document into the fireplace at home, and it would link his house directly to the Floo Network.
After that, with Floo Powder, he could travel long distances—or even send just a part of his body through the green flames to talk with someone on the other end, much like wizards usually did.
Normally, any Muggle-born witch or wizard had to wait until adulthood to apply for Floo access.
But Daphne's mother—the head of the Greengrass family—also happened to be the current Director of the Department of Magical Transportation. And the Floo Network fell neatly under her jurisdiction.
Staring at the flickering green flame emblem on the contract, Lucien chuckled softly.
"Looks like my place finally has internet too."
He continued unwrapping gifts. Most of them were books or sweets—classic, safe choices.
Cho had knitted him a sky-blue scarf, clearly handmade, with her neat initials "L.G." stitched at the end.
Hermione had also gone the handmade route and sent him a quill crafted from an eagle feather.
Harry sent a miniature Golden Snitch model.
Malfoy sent an impressively detailed dragon figurine.
Ron sent…
Lucien paused as a gray, dust-covered owl drifted in front of him, eyes shut tight, not moving at all.
"Errol!"
He quickly pulled out his wand and checked the poor Weasley family owl. It turned out Errol wasn't dead—just exhausted—and had fallen asleep in the pile of gifts.
Letting out a relieved sigh, Lucien transformed an empty gift box into a soft bird nest and levitated Errol into it to rest.
Honestly, wasn't it time this owl retired?
When he finally unwrapped the package Ron had sent, he discovered a magical snack blind box—each opening would produce a random treat.
It looked like something Ron crafted himself, and Lucien could tell he'd improved quite a bit. Clearly the holidays weren't making him lazy. Oh right—the twins had helped Ron buy a new wand recently. With a wand that actually suited him, Ron's spellcasting would naturally become smoother and more precise.
Lucien instinctively started analyzing the alchemical techniques woven into the blind box…
Wait.
His eyes drifted toward the snoring Errol again. Maybe he should design a magical device that allowed for long-distance communication?
If Muggles already had telephones and mobile phones, why were wizards still relying on traditional letters? It was only thanks to hardworking owls that the wizarding world's communication wasn't completely hopeless.
He set the idea aside—for now—and returned to the gifts.
Opening a particularly large package, he couldn't help but grin.
Inside was an outrageous hat that looked like a folded eagle with its wings tucked in. Its eyes glimmered with a strangely wise sheen.
He didn't even need to check the card to know—this was Luna's handiwork.
The moment he put it on, a clear eagle's cry echoed through the room, and the wings extended on both sides of his head, flapping gently.
Lucien conjured a mirror, took one look at himself, and then silently removed the hat.
Luna really was talented—and she'd followed his previous advice on adding animal calls to her enchanted hats—but…
How on earth was he supposed to wear this outside?
Shaking his head helplessly, he moved on to the next gift—one from Luna's friend, Ginny.
Honestly, he still had no idea how those two got along so well. Their personalities couldn't have been more different if you dropped them in opposite ends of the Forbidden Forest.
Ginny had sent a giant handmade hamster wheel. Lucien's lips twitched.
No doubt—it was for Gingy.
The little troublemaker had made some progress with weight loss… somewhat.
"Come here, Niffler."
The suitcase opened, and the platinum-furred Niffler fluttered into his hands.
Lucien gently placed him on the wheel.
"This is your Christmas present."
Gingy looked up at him with huge, watery eyes.
"Squeak squeak—"
He understood perfectly—that was pure Niffler-level begging. But remembering Newt's recommended weight chart for Nifflers, Lucien could only pat Gingy's soft, bouncy belly.
"A new year means a fresh start."