After a while, the Book of Friends gradually became quiet again. Wade guessed they were probably busy setting up other chat groups.
Among the Christmas gifts he gave, there wasn't just the one Book of Friends linked to himself. There were also blank parchment sheets for two, three, four, and five people, and the professors had added an extra stack of sheets for ten people. All together, it formed a thick little booklet, which could then truly be called a "BOOK."
Wade envisioned that in the future, every Hogwarts student would have a Book of Friends. They would exchange parchment with friends or family, creating chat groups of all sizes. Perhaps it wouldn't be long before Hogwarts added a new school rule: no opening the Book of Friends during class, or it would be confiscated! Or perhaps students would compete over the thickness and "gold content" of their Books of Friends. Some students might even buy blank parchment to stick inside, pretending they had joined many chat groups, just to save face.
However, Professor Murray told him not to sell the Book of Friends for now.
A path that seemed to promise great "financial prospects" was cut short, and Wade sighed glumly. He put away the Book of Friends and began to unwrap his own gifts for the year.
Among the many gift boxes under the Christmas tree, most came from Ferdinand's employees. Wade had been around his father's toy factory since he was little. He was smart, sensible, and adorable, and many long-time employees were very fond of him. Even after not seeing him for more than half a year, they still sent gifts. They sent all sorts of popular toys among Muggles, exquisite pens and notebooks, children's books, and so on.
A few were gifts from Wade's Muggle classmates from primary school. These were simpler, mostly candy, greeting cards, and small toys.
These were things he received every year, and Wade had, of course, already sent gifts of similar value in return.
Then came the gifts from the Wizarding World.
Unlike Wade, who had sent everyone the same type of gift, the gifts he received were various books.
Professor Murray gave him a handwritten Alchemy notebook, which Wade carefully put away, planning to look at it after dinner.
Professor Flitwick gave him a Compendium of Spells—a book that required a professor's note to borrow from the Hogwarts library. Wade also planned to find time to read it during the holidays.
Michael gave him Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them; Hermione gave him Alchemist; Padma's gift was Gilderoy Lockhart's Wandering with Werewolves; Theo's was The World's Oldest Magical Plants; Ryan's was The Beauty of the Starry Sky; and Neville's was Mysteries of Transfiguration.
It seemed his image as someone who loved to read was deeply ingrained in everyone's minds, as they all, without prior agreement, chose to give him books.
It looked like he would be busy this holiday.
...
Hogwarts.
When Dumbledore woke up that morning, even the shoes by his bed were buried under gifts.
He had been a professor at Hogwarts for almost a century, teaching countless students. Roughly eighty percent of the wizards in the British Isles were his former students.
Moreover, he was the President of the International Confederation of Wizards and the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, widely regarded as the greatest wizard of his time and the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts had ever seen—though Dumbledore himself didn't care much for these titles and accolades. Clearly, most people did care a great deal, and wizards all over the world wanted to get on his good side.
So every Christmas, Dumbledore would receive many, many gifts, so many they could practically drown the Headmaster's Tower.
Fortunately, his Undetectable Extension Charm was very effective.
Therefore, the entire week after Christmas, Dumbledore usually spent unwrapping gifts.
It was an activity he thoroughly enjoyed.
Of course, Dumbledore's enjoyment wasn't due to the inherent value of the gifts themselves, but because he could discern from them the growth of some people, the desires of others, and occasionally, some small surprises—perhaps a nasty curse, or a harmless prank.
Most people who didn't know him well would send him books out of reverence for the wizard—Muggle books, wizarding books. Many Dumbledore had already read, but he still happily accepted them.
Those familiar with him knew the old man was a hopeless, severe sweet tooth. Gifts were often cakes, chocolates, Cockroach Clusters, Fizzing Whizbees, and similar sweets. Some contained deadly potions, and identifying them was a rather interesting game for Dumbledore.
And then there were some people... though they never usually contacted him, they would still send gifts on this special day. Even if it was just a piece of paper, a leaf, or a pair of rather ugly, sheep-smelling woolen socks, Dumbledore would cherish them immensely.
Just as Dumbledore was opening a gift box that was half his height, an owl suddenly flew through the window, dropping a small package onto Dumbledore's lap.
Did someone just wake up and remember him, then send a gift as an afterthought?
Dumbledore thought, setting down the large gift box and turning to open the small package first.
Inside was only a piece of parchment and a long, narrow strip of paper—
"Dear Albus: This is the work of my student—Wade Grey! I share my joy with you with immense pride!
Wishing you well.
Morrie"
Even the "all-knowing" Dumbledore was bewildered by this abrupt letter. He unfolded the parchment, examining both sides, confirming that nothing was written on it except Morrie's own name.
Dumbledore was about to cast a spell to examine it when someone else came to visit him.
Dumbledore walked to the hallway, where Filius Flitwick stood at the door, holding a similar piece of parchment. He said excitedly, "Oh, Professor Dumbledore, this is mine. I must say, I knew he would achieve great things, but I didn't expect it so soon! He's only been studying magic for three and a half months!"
"—Wade Grey?" Dumbledore asked tentatively.
"Yes, who else could it be?" Professor Flitwick skipped away, humming a tune.
Dumbledore looked down. The parchment Flitwick had given him was also blank, except for Flitwick's name.
Then came Pomona Sprout.
"I thought about it, and who else but you would I give this to?" the witch said with a gentle smile. "I look forward to hearing from you at any time."
Next was Minerva McGonagall. She saw Dumbledore already holding a small stack and handed him a sheet with a hint of displeasure. "Oh, I thought I was the first, but I didn't realize Pomona was so quick!"
In truth, she had opened her other gifts first, and by the time she found this one, it was a bit late.
Finally, Snape handed him a notebook directly.
"Hmph," the Potions Professor said with a cold gaze. "I kept my own. I don't need the others—useless connections only waste my time."
Dumbledore: ...
So everyone had one, but he was the only one who didn't know what it was?
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