Christmas came to Hogwarts with a visible shift.
Garlands wrapped the staircases, candles burned brighter, and the Great Hall filled with tall trees covered in silver ornaments and steady lights. The decorations weren't subtle, but they fit the castle, as if they had always belonged there, woven into its stone and history.
Students began leaving in groups.
Trunks moved through corridors, owls were sent ahead, and the castle grew quieter with each departure. The usual noise faded slowly rather than all at once, laughter and voices thinning until only scattered echoes remained in the halls.
Victor returned to Malfoy Manor soon after.
Christmas there followed its usual pattern. Guests arrived precisely on time, conversations circled the same subjects, and every exchange carried a layer of politeness that never quite reached sincerity.
It wasn't loud or unpleasant, but it was exhausting in a different way—predictable, controlled, and entirely without warmth.
He had no intention of staying for all of it.
He had already given his word.
When the evening settled into its usual rhythm and attention drifted elsewhere, Victor slipped away without drawing notice.
He moved beyond the immediate grounds before Apparating, choosing a point well away from Hermione's house. Close enough to walk. Far enough to avoid leaving any trace that could be followed.
The cold hit sharply when he arrived.
He adjusted his coat and started down the street.
Rows of ordinary houses lit up with simple decorations. Warm light spilled through windows, small Christmas trees stood in corners, and the quiet hum of lived-in spaces carried through the still air.
Victor slowed slightly, his gaze moving over the details without much thought.
Compared to what he had just left behind, this felt better in a way he didn't bother to explain.
He reached the Granger house and knocked, the sound barely fading before footsteps rushed from inside. The door opened quickly, and Hermione stood there, her expression shifting immediately the moment she saw him.
"You came," she said, the excitement clear and unfiltered.
Victor gave a small nod, stepping forward slightly.
"I said I would."
She caught his sleeve and pulled him inside, closing the door behind him as the cold stayed outside. The difference was immediate. The air was warm, the space lived in, and nothing felt arranged for appearances.
Mr. and Mrs. Granger were already aware he was coming, so there was no surprise when they saw him, only a quiet acknowledgment that turned into a polite welcome.
Mrs. Granger was at the table, finishing the last of the dinner setup.
"Victor, come in," she said, offering a small smile. "We're just about ready."
Mr. Granger looked at him with mild curiosity.
"Did your parents agree to you coming here?" he asked.
"No. I sneaked out."
Hermione looked at him properly now, processing that.
"You actually meant that," she said, not quite surprised, just confirming it.
"I don't say things I don't plan to do."
Mr. Granger didn't look entirely reassured.
"Wouldn't they be worried?" he asked. "You leaving without telling them isn't exactly a small thing."
Victor's expression didn't change.
"They won't notice," he said, then added after a brief pause, "I made sure of it."
That earned him a longer look.
Mr. Granger leaned back slightly, exhaling through his nose.
"Right," he said. "Magic."
There wasn't frustration in it, just acceptance mixed with a bit of disbelief.
"It seems like magic and kids together tend to find ways around rules that the rest of us can't even see," he added, glancing briefly at Hermione before returning his attention to Victor.
Then dinner began, and the conversation settled into something easy, without the weight of expectation.
"So," Mrs. Granger asked, looking between them, "did anything memorable happen this year at school?"
Hermione paused for a moment, then gave a small, careful smile.
"Well… quite a few things," she said. "Enough that if I start explaining everything, we'll still be sitting here after midnight."
Mrs. Granger laughed lightly.
"That sounds like you're deliberately leaving things out."
"I am," Hermione admitted, not looking particularly guilty. "But nothing you need to worry about."
Mr. Granger nodded, accepting that answer for now.
"As long as you're alright, that's what matters," he said, before turning slightly toward Victor. "How are you finding it there?"
Hermione answered before Victor could.
"Dad, you don't need to ask him that," she said, a hint of pride slipping into her voice. "He's probably the most intelligent in our year."
Mr. Granger raised an eyebrow, amused.
"More intelligent than you?"
Hermione paused, just for a second, then looked away.
"That's not the point," she said, though the answer was obvious enough.
Mrs. Granger, who had been listening quietly, smiled as if something had just reminded her of an earlier time.
"That actually reminds me of your first few weeks at school," she said. "You came home quite upset because you hadn't made any friends yet. You kept trying to help everyone with their work, and it didn't go the way you expected."
Hermione froze.
"Mom," she said quickly, her tone shifting into embarrassment, "why are you bringing that up?"
Mrs. Granger didn't look particularly apologetic.
"I'm just saying," she continued, "you've always tried to do things your own way, even if it takes a bit of time for others to catch up."
Hermione sank slightly in her seat, clearly wishing the conversation had gone in a different direction.
"That was different," she muttered.
*****
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