WebNovels

Chapter 89 - Chapter 89: Results and Christmas

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Fortunately, Vison brought the Portkey before arriving in Paris.

If he had to Apparate back to New York again, he might've gotten lost halfway.

The moment he touched the silver teaspoon, Vison was instantly transported outside the New York Alien Reception Center.

"Good evening, Mr.—"

As soon as he entered the building, Mr. Blount's tired voice greeted him, "Please come here to fill out the form... Wait, why is it you again, Mr. Vison?"

Vison shrugged at the weary receptionist. "Accidentally triggered the Portkey."

Mr. Blount looked mildly confused but didn't press further—it was only three minutes until the shift change. Whoever was on next could deal with it.

Vison's parents had bought a cozy cottage with a small garden near Tia Morrison General Hospital.

On special occasions, they brought Ariana home to care for her.

Today was one of those days—they couldn't bear to let her lie alone in a cold hospital bed on Christmas Eve.

After returning home and enduring a bit of his mother's nagging, Vison went straight to Ariana's room on the second floor.

She lay peacefully, eyes closed, her dark brown hair fanned across the pillow—just like always.

After quietly watching her for a moment, Vison reached into his suitcase and pulled out a leaf from the Tree of Wisdom.

[Introduction: It contains pure soul energy.]

Vison had a hunch the leaf would help Ariana—but how?

Potion? Ritual? Another method?

As he pondered, the leaf suddenly floated above Ariana's forehead. It emitted tiny lights like fireflies, flickering in sync with her slow, shallow breathing.

Vison's heart raced. He watched intently as the leaf began to liquefy, transforming into a stream of starlight that slowly seeped into Ariana's forehead.

Quickly, Vison reached out to the Tree of Wisdom through his spiritual link.

"Eldra, what's happening?"

[Name: Ariana]

[Status: Soul Integrity – 51%]

The numbers began to rise.

51%... 52%... 53%...

It was working.

The leaf truly had the power to repair the soul!

Sweat formed on Vison's brow. He watched as the last threads of energy faded into Ariana's forehead. The room fell silent, save for the ticking clock on her nightstand.

[Status: Soul Integrity – 61%]

"Ariana?" he whispered gently.

There was no response.

It seemed she'd remain unconscious until her soul fully recovered.

Vison stood by her side for a while, until his mother's voice called from downstairs.

"Good night, Ariana," he said softly before leaving the room.

Christmas Day

Just like past Christmases, today was the busiest time for owls.

Even though Vison was in New York, many owls from England crossed the ocean to tap at his window.

He had no choice but to leave the window open.

Every so often, a package dropped onto the table beside his bed—gifts from friends and former students.

Kiana flew out of his suitcase immediately.

Even though it was winter and snowing heavily outside, Kiana remained lively and full of energy.

Vison fed Kiana while checking the tags on each package.

"Let's see who sent things this year…"

There weren't many. Most were from acquaintances—like the Potions shop owner he often collaborated with, and friends he'd met while traveling.

Surprisingly, Roskin sent a gift too.

"…An egg?"

Vison opened the package to reveal a large, metallic egg inside a special thermostat box. A note was pinned underneath:

"Intercepted from a group of smugglers—those idiots wanted to turn it into a specimen. It's a dead egg, so I'll give it to you."

Occamy egg.

Vison remembered that Kettleburn had once brought Occamies to Hogwarts.

Occamies were feathered, snake-like creatures with wings and legs, able to expand and contract at will.

The eggshell was made of pure silver—highly valuable. The yolk and white had magical properties too.

There was even a shampoo made from Occamy yolk. Vison had bought it once—decent results, but expensive.

He suddenly recalled that the inventor of that shampoo was Gilderoy Lockhart.

Shaking off the thought, he moved on to the next package.

Harry sent him a pocket watch maintenance kit.

Lupin sent a new pair of gloves.

Hermione, always thoughtful, sent a greeting card.

"Thank you for your guidance. Merry Christmas."

Several Hufflepuff students also sent cheerful cards.

Vison smiled. It was always heartwarming to receive gifts from his students.

After unpacking everything, he sank into his chair, exhausted.

The past few days had worn him out—especially all the Apparition he'd done yesterday.

His head still throbbed faintly.

Still, knowing Ariana was recovering lifted a great weight from his heart.

Now, he had to plan how to obtain more leaves from the Tree of Wisdom—more soul energy would be needed...

Back at Hogwarts—Gryffindor Common Room

Harry and Ron were sitting on the floor, surrounded by torn wrapping paper and opened boxes.

They weren't sure how the gifts got there.

Ron assumed the owls snuck in.

Harry guessed the house-elves delivered them—just like how food appeared on the tables.

Harry received a wooden flute from Hagrid, a large box of horseshoe-shaped chocolates from Hermione, and the usual hand-knitted sweater and butter fudge from Mrs. Weasley.

He also received a fifty-pence coin from his aunt and uncle.

He tossed the coin aside with a frown.

Then he picked up a small, finely wrapped package.

It was from Professor Vison.

A note lay underneath:

"Merry Christmas, Harry. This is an amulet made of thunderstruck wood."

Inside the box was a small, black token attached to a string.

It was engraved with intricate lines and unfamiliar symbols.

"What's that?" Ron asked, glancing over.

"Professor Vison gave it to me. Says it's an amulet," Harry replied.

"Looks cool. Seems like Professor Weasley really likes you," Ron said with mild envy.

"What kind of magic is on it?"

"No idea," Harry admitted, pocketing the charm.

The last package was anonymous.

Harry opened it to find a silver-gray, liquid-like fabric.

His eyes widened—it was an Invisibility Cloak.

He had once found one in Vison's storage, though that cloak had lost its magic from age.

Who would send him a real one?

There was a note:

"Your father left this to me before he died. It should be returned to you now.

Use it well. Merry Christmas."

Harry stared at it, stunned.

His father?

Someone close to his dad must have sent this.

But who?

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