The lamps along the snowy lane of Hogsmeade flickered softly as the evening deepened.Roy brushed the snow from his cloak and stepped once more into the Hog's Head Inn.
The faint scent of smoke and ale lingered in the air — familiar now, like a secret part of the wizarding world hidden from the polished glow of the Three Broomsticks. The few regulars turned briefly at the sound of the door creaking open, then returned to their quiet drinks.
Behind the bar, Aberforth Dumbledore looked up, his shaggy beard shifting with a grin.
"Back again, lad? Thought you students preferred sweeter air and sweeter company down the lane."
Roy smiled and walked up to the counter, pulling from his enchanted pouch a slim bottle of deep-violet wine, its label inscribed in an unfamiliar script — a vintage from Teyvat, faintly glowing with soft celestial motes.
"I brought this. A gift. Try it with me — I promise it'll make even your goat sing."
Aberforth raised a thick brow, but curiosity won over.He poured two glasses, and the wine shimmered in the dim light, tasting faintly of honey and mountain air.
They clinked glasses, and Aberforth leaned on the counter.
"Not bad," he muttered. "Though your timing's cursed as ever — my brother's name has been tossed around the pub all day."
Roy chuckled. "Does that mean you've been telling the usual jokes?"
Aberforth smirked, his blue eyes gleaming.
"Aye. Did I ever tell you how Albus tried to convince a banshee she could sing at his school play?"
Roy burst into laughter. "That sounds like him. Always believing even chaos can be reformed."
"Or weaponized," Aberforth said dryly, then snorted when Roy nearly choked on his drink.
The two traded stories until the fire burned low — Roy sharing lighthearted tales of student life, of prank explosions gone wrong and McGonagall's withering stare; Aberforth countering with old Hogsmeade gossip and muttered family stories he pretended not to care about.
By the time Roy stood to leave, the air between them was easy — a silent understanding between two men who had seen too much, and yet chose to laugh.
"You've got an old soul, lad," Aberforth said as Roy pulled on his cloak."If you keep walking between light and dark like this, maybe you'll teach my brother a thing or two before you're done."
Roy smiled faintly. "Or maybe he'll teach me."
With that, he left the Hog's Head, the sound of the door's bell fading behind him.
Return to Hogwarts
The path back to the castle glimmered under the moon, snow crunching softly under his boots. By the time Roy reached the courtyard, most students had long gone inside. The night was still — until he noticed a familiar figure sitting on a stone bench, alone.
Harry Potter, his scarf hanging loose, stared toward the lake. His eyes looked distant, older than they should have been.
Roy walked over quietly. "Heavy thoughts for a cold night."
Harry startled, then sighed. "I… I found out something. About Sirius Black. About my parents."
Roy's expression softened, though he already knew the truth.
"Painful knowledge has a way of coming early to those who don't deserve it," Roy said quietly. "Don't rush to hate. Not yet."
Harry looked up, confused. But Roy only gave a faint smile and patted his shoulder.
"Find answers, Harry. Not conclusions."
Then he left him to the silence — because some lessons had to be learned, not told.
Later, in the Common Room
The Hufflepuff fire crackled warmly when Roy returned.He spotted Ginny Weasley and Astoria Greengrass sitting together, the former sulking slightly as she played with a quill, the latter pouting into a pillow.
"Let me guess," Roy said, sitting down beside them, "two witches too young for Hogsmeade and too sad to admit it?"
Astoria peeked up at him. "You took everyone else. Even Cho. That's not fair."
Ginny crossed her arms. "And we had to stay behind while everyone had butterbeer."
Roy chuckled, reaching into his coat — and pulled out two paper bags stamped Honeydukes.
Their eyes lit up instantly.
"Candies," he said, handing one to each, "straight from the source. Sugar quills, peppermint frogs, even butterbeer fudge. Payment for your patience."
Astoria squealed and hugged him; Ginny pretended to scowl but accepted the sweets all the same.
Roy leaned back, watching them share and giggle.
"You two," he teased softly, "are far more dangerous than any trip to Hogsmeade."
The girls laughed, and the moment — warm, soft, full of small happiness — settled deep in his chest.
Tomorrow would bring more politics, more mysteries, perhaps more shadows.But tonight, there was only warmth, laughter, and the quiet crackle of firelight.