"Oh, Professor Hawthorne, huh? Well, it will probably be okay. Obviously, I don't want to see him, so maybe I'll go into another room when he gets here." I shrugged.

"He's just dropping it off, you probably won't even see him anyways. I'm sorry though to put you through this." Daphne hung her head.

"It's all right, don't even worry about it. It'll be fine." I smiled.

The door to my room was open, and we heard voices exchange excited greetings from the living room.

"That must be Brandna. Come on, let's go see them!" Daphne rushed ahead, and I followed. I knocked on my grandpa's door and let him know to meet us downstairs whenever he felt like it.

Daphne and I strolled into the living room with the fireplace, and there were Bran and Edna, beaming, each wearing a cable-knit sweater, one red and one green. Their parents were behind them, looking exactly like their son and daughter, respectively, just much older. Daphne's mom was chatting with their parents. Bran was holding a white box.

"Merry Christmas, Rollie!" Bran chimed.

"Hey, whatcha got in there?"

"Oh, it's just some dessert for later. An apple pie made by my parents' bakery."

"Your parents have a bakery? I didn't know that. Then again, I didn't really know what they did for a living."

"Oh yes, they have a bakery a little outside Diagon Alley. You could walk to it if you're on the edge of town. Lyptus Bakery, real original, I know." Bran chortled. "Well, come meet them." Bran turned around. "Mum and dad meet our new friend this year at Hogwarts! His name is Rollie, he's from the U.S., and he's going to take us to the Hogwarts Quidditch Cup!"

Edna and Daphne glared at him.

Bran cleared his throat. "With the help of Edna and Daphne, too, of course!"

"Nice to meet you." The parents shook my hand, and their dad followed up with, "That's some wild hair you got there."

"Thanks, it's supposed to be wild." I smirked.

Daphne showed them to their rooms, and when they were done, my grandpa entered the living room. Bran and Edna greeted him with their trademark jubilation.

Bran scanned the room and asked, "Where’s your dad, Daphne?"

"He's in his office. He'll be out to meet everyone probably around dinner time." Daphne seemed to feign a smile.

"Is this everyone that's going to be joining us for Christmas?" Bran asked.

"No, my uncle and cousin will be coming too. Again, they'll probably arrive around dinner time. Until then, we should go outside, we have a wonderful nature trail that my parents had decorated for Christmas." Daphne looked at her mom nervously. I watched her mom reply with a slow nod.

We all walked out behind the castle, greeted by a forest of pines, each tree decorated with ornaments and floating candles inside glass containers. Some trees glowed with only red light, green light, blue light, and white light. A thin blanket of snow covered the tops of branches and the grass. While we were on the trail, my grandpa talked to the parents and became acquainted with them. I overheard some of the conversations; they were hardly paying attention to the winter wonderland display.

"I've noticed Bran and Edna's parents hardly are saying much, are they usually like that?" I asked Daphne.

"Yeah, they're just shy people and generally very quiet."

"And yet Bran and Edna are quite bubbly. Go figure."

"Wow, you were a professional Quidditch player with the Montrose Magpies in their heyday?" Daphne's mom said to my grandpa. "That's quite impressive. I take it with all the sports, it was hard to keep up on current events?"

Daphne gave her mom a side-eye scowl.

"Uh, I was kept apprised of the going-ons in the world and wizarding community. Still do, especially now that I'm retired. I know there are some nasty neo-death eater groups creeping up here and there and the land curse at Hogwarts. We're living in strange times, and I tell Rollie it's important to stay informed."

"I'm not liking this conversation," Daphne whispered to me.

"Why don't we distract ourselves with our own?" I smiled. "I've been wondering this whole walk, how did they do all this decoration? It must have taken them forever!"

"My mom and dad are both a crafty witch and wizard. It took them a while, but they had some help from friends. They've already celebrated Christmas with their friends last week."

"Ah, they didn't recruit the help of house-elves?"

"Heaven's no! Don't even mention that around them. They're fervent supporters of the house-elf liberation movement."

I shrugged, taking a moment to craft my next sentence. "Some Wizarding families still have them, though. Not that it makes it right, but it's true."

"Not all people who live in a big house have house-elves." Daphne frowned.

"Trust me, I didn't mean anything by it..." I paused, desperate to find a new topic. "So, how have the past few days been?"

"Parents still mad about me forgetting the application. It's been rather hostile."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm just glad you're here."

My heart tripped up, but I refrained from showing any hint of excitement.

"And I'm also glad Bran and Edna are here," Daphne added.

"It's fun to be hanging out together like this on Christmas. A lot better than my holidays back at home. What am I talking about, England is my home now, and so far, it's been awesome."

Daphne's lips curved up. "Good. You want to talk about what it was like back in the U.S.?"

"Nah, not right now. This walk is too nice to spoil."

"When we get back in the house, would you want to play Wizards and Jesters with Brandna? It's been a while since we've played."

"Yeah, that sounds great."

Arriving back in the castle, Daphne brought us to a game room with a high ceiling, fireplace, and a golden paisley carpet covering the floor. There were a few bookshelves with wooden chests containing games next to texts and jars filled with an assortment of liquids and artifacts. There was ample seating with couches and a table for four people. Tall arched windows looked out into the snow globe world with a view of a hill that housed a small wizarding downtown strip.

"This room is so cozy!" I gazed wide-eyed at the setup.

"Thank you, I spent so much time here growing up. Playing games, reading books, and making potions. Fond memories." Daphne exhaled with delight.

"I just adore this room. This is what I look forward to every Christmas," Edna said.

The four of us took a seat at the wooden square table and played the card game Wizards and Jesters until the sun started setting. We chatted and shared a variety of chuckles, we never frowned for a single moment. The parents and adults were all cooking downstairs in the kitchen, and the scents of Christmas oven-roasted turkey came into the room.

The door opened, and a tall man stood in front of us that I didn't recognize.

"Come on, kids, dinner is just about ready," the man said.

"Dad, we're not kids anymore," Daphne rolled her eyes.

"Trust me, you're still a kid. I see you have a new friend. Judging by the hair, I can see why you two would get along," her dad said. Something about his tone was apathetic, like he was forcing himself to attempt politeness. He shook my hand with a firm clutch. "Mr. Poisonwood," he added.

"My name is Rollie, a pleasure to meet you, sir."

His blinked as he heard my voice. "An American? What are you doing all the way here?

"Dad, he's with us for the holiday, so that's all that matters," Daphne said.

"Understand. I do have a question, though, do you go to Hogwarts?" he asked.

"Dad! Of course he does! Why would you even ask that?"

"Relax, sweetie. Rollie and I are just having a conversation here. What’s the matter?"

Daphne turned to me. "Sorry, you have to deal with the interrogation."

I laughed. "That's all right, I'm not offended." I looked at Mr. Poisonwood. "I'm one of those rare cases where I was able to transfer to Hogwarts."

He studied my face. I could tell he was casting some sort of judgment. While he had similar eyes and cheeks as his daughter, he lacked a friendly warmth imbued in Daphne. "I don't believe I've ever heard of a transfer from the U.S. to Hogwarts. I have a lot of questions."

"Why don't we have dinner first, shall we?" Daphne ushered everyone out the door, down the flagstone halls, and into a dining room that was practically a smaller version of the Great Hall in Hogwarts. Potatoes, turkey, Brussel sprouts, cranberry sauce, pigs in a blanket, and stuffing lined the table. Everyone exchanged hellos and "Merry Christmas." There were two people I hadn't met.

"Rollie and Logan, this is my cousin Elaina and my uncle Hugh," Daphne introduced us.

Both Elaina and her uncle stared at my hair for an uncomfortable moment before I shook their hands. Elaina appeared to be in her twenties and her uncle in his fifties.

"Let's eat!" Jillian Poisonwood announced.

We all took our seats and loaded up our plates. I was at the end of the table next to Bran, Edna, and their parents. Daphne was in the middle, the border between her family and her friends.

"You have to try the Brussel sprouts," my grandpa whispered. "I made those myself."

"Don't worry, I plan on eating them, and I'll let you know what I think." I silently laughed.

"Elaina and Hugh," Jillian said. "What do you think of Daphne's hair? Don't you like the blonde? I think it may have been blue the last time you saw it."

"I think it looks terrific, yes." Elaina smiled.

"I would agree. I much prefer natural hair color tones on people. The craving for attention is the last thing we should be satisfying for whippersnappers," her uncle Hugh said.

Daphne was chewing away in silence.

"I agree," her mom said. "She looks more like my daughter when she has her beautiful brown hair. I like blonde, but this blonde looks a little too yellow but, you know what they say, beggars can't be choosers," she said with such delight it hardly sounded like an uncomfortable conversation.

"I don't know, Daphne, I've never seen your blue hair before, but I bet it looked remarkable. Hope to see it sometime soon, or whatever color you decide to pick with your hair next," my grandpa said.

Daphne picked her head up and gave my grandpa a genuine smile with a sheen over her eyes.

"Oh, don't encourage her." Jillian cackled, but when Daphne scowled at her she stopped. "I'm teasing, sweetheart. You know I don't care what you do with your hair. But I do like the natural tones more, for what it's worth."

Bran and Edna both looked like they wanted to say something, but the conversation died, which was probably for the best. Everyone continued eating their meals.

Daphne's father sat next to her, and he cut the silence with, "So Rollie, you're a transfer from the U.S. to Hogwarts. I'm curious how that all came about?"

"Well, he used to live in the U.S., but he lives with me now," my grandpa said. "And since he lives with me, it was just a simple conversation with some of the people at Hogwarts. Painless process, really."

"Ah." Mr. Poisonwood picked up his wine glass and took a sip. "I was just curious if maybe you had one too many detentions or something back at Huntshrow?"

Silverware dropped on Bran and Edna's plate. Daphne glowered, and my grandpa furrowed his brow. I couldn't help but laugh.

"I mean, I definitely had some detentions at Huntshrow, but it wasn't the reason I left."

"Sorry, I won't pry. Forgive me." Mr. Poisonwood smiled and looked at his niece. "Elaina, when you went to Hogwarts, how would you describe the disciplinary environment? Would you say it was just or harsh?"

"Well, it was definitely high alert, since it was still somewhat fresh after the second wizarding war. So I'd say things were strict, but it was all very fair. Never experienced anything that I thought was egregious."

"Hm, that's very interesting. So detentions weren't carelessly handed out to well-behaved students?"

Elaina smiled. "I was a well-behaved student and never came close to experiencing a detention once."

I stared at Daphne, who had stopped eating, but she carried the mirage by hanging her head and poking her food.

"That's all very well but interesting because Daphne here has gone through her first detention this year at Hogwarts. On the year of her O.W.L. of all years. First or second year, I could understand, you're young and rambunctious. But your fifth year? Calls into question on where her focus is."

"I said I was sorry, okay?" Daphne snapped. Everyone went silent and froze in place. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to ruin the evening," her voice calmed. "But for those that don't know, I didn't get the potion-making record for an assignment, and I got so upset I threw the mixture at the wall. No one was hurt, and nothing bad happened. I was just given detention, and unfortunately, Professor Mortitch used to work for my parents, and she wrote them a letter. I just thought we wouldn't bring it up at Christmas."

"Sorry, Daphne, but you reap what you sow. And I was genuinely curious about Elaina's experience and your friend Rollie who might be influencing your rash behavior." Mr. Poisonwood had a relaxed demeanor with his venomous words.

I rolled my eyes. "Is it the mohawk that scares you, Mr. Poisonwood?"

"I don't give a damn about hair," he said with a polite tone. "It's just you said yourself that you've received detentions at Huntshrow and-"

"But I haven't served any this year." I shrugged.

"Doesn't mean you didn't have an impact on my daughter still. She was probably trying to impress you with her aversion to the rules."

I smirked, if only I could impress her. Just as I was about to say something, my grandpa cut me off.

"Michael, I really appreciate you welcoming my grandson and me into your home. Today's been a wonderful day, free of any anxiety or uncomfortable conversations until now. I'm noticing a 'maturity' theme for these topics. What better way to exemplify that than not bringing up such inflammatory subjects at a Christmas dinner in front of guests you don't really know? Daphne is a bright woman with a lot of Quidditch talent and a lot of brains. You should be proud. And you should also be aware of the pressure she has on her shoulders from having parents who are so well known in the wizarding community. It's a lot to bear. Trust me, as a father of a squib on a championship Quidditch team, your kid has lots of pressure on them whether you realize it or not, and it's not fair to rebuke them on such small mistakes that don't hold any weight in the grandness of life. She dyes her hair. So what? It's not actively harming anyone. So she got detention? Not a single employer is going to ask if she misbehaved as a teenager, and even if they did, chances are certain they won't care, because these teens are at the age where making mistakes and learning from them is the norm!" my grandpa stated with an amplified voice. The whole table froze with silence. Daphne was on the verge of bursting with tears.