Operation: Secret Santa Errand Finished

Date: 12/18/20

Bridget wasn't particularly feeling the holiday spirit. Yes, winter break was fast approaching, and yes, the weather outside screamed of the holidays, the Hogwarts grounds covered in a blanket of white, not to mention ridiculously cold. She was organizing a gift exchange in her dorm, she was pretty much done with schoolwork as of today, and she'd participated in an errand two weeks ago that had literally been decorating Hogsmeade for Christmas. So what was it, then?

Her best guess was lingering worry from over a month ago, from Halloween. The school had been locked down with a werewolf on the loose. That had been scary, naturally, but in comparison to other things that had happened at Hogwarts, not all that bad. No, the bad part had been discovering one of her closest friends was kidnapped. Katrina had been found, of course, but she'd clearly been affected by the event. Between trying to support her through the trauma and being extra aware of the severity of the dangers they were facing, she supposed it was natural to not feel particularly cheerful.

Maybe the Secret Santa errand she'd signed up for would help, though. A good way to get in the Christmas spirit was to give presents, right? Even if it wasn't, there wasn't any backing out now. She'd already made the commitment and that meant she would just have to figure out what to give her person. When the letter had come from the Librarian's owl, she'd unfolded it in secret, like she'd been instructed to. Her person wasn't anyone she really knew, but maybe that was for the best. This way there was no pressure for it to be perfect or particularly thoughtful. So long as she put effort into it, she'd done her job.

As she made her way into the library after classes on the last Friday before they went home, she made her way towards a tucked-away corner of the massive room. This was normal for her; Bridget spent a fair amount of time in the library either doing her homework or researching something and she tended to look for secluded sections to work. This time, however, she wasn't here for homework. The errand was the only thing on her agenda today.

Naturally, the section was well stocked with any craft materials she could need. Hogwarts errands rarely had oversights, save for the time she and Flash had had to make tea bags without any sort of instructions. She was at a loss for what to do for a moment, simply standing there, staring at all the supplies. Glancing down at the slip of paper that had arrived several days over with the name, house, and year of who she was supposed to gift. In the margins, she'd scrawled several other things she'd learned about the person, but that was it. And... it was not much to go off of. There was such a large margin to work with, which meant plenty of chance she'd make something her assignment wouldn't like. But that was stupid. She probably wouldn't make something said person cherished forever or anything, and it wasn't like anyone was expecting someone who quite possibly didn't know them to make them a perfect gift.

Well then, where to start? The Slytherin looked over the materials. There were plenty of things she could do, but perhaps it would be best to play to her strengths. She could write a letter, but she had the feeling it wouldn't be a particularly exciting gift, not to mention she would run out of things to say pretty quickly. She had basic embroidery skills and had managed to make something at the embroidery errand last year, but that would take a long time and likely not turn out how she wanted it to.

That left drawing, which was something she knew she was good at. Just... she'd barely drawn since the attack on Slytherin last year. Bridget wasn't even entirely sure why she'd stopped, she just had. Maybe it had been related to the trauma, maybe she'd just felt like she didn't have time for the hobby anymore with so many other things to worry about. Still, she doubted she'd lost all that skill. Perhaps it was worth a shot. And who knew, maybe she'd pick sketching back up. Granted, she had even less time for things that didn't serve any real purpose.

It was the best idea she had. Gathering her materials--a few sheets of paper, a pencil, and a selection of colored pencils--she moved to one of the nearby tables and slid into a seat. Tapping the pencil against the table, she did her best to brainstorm several ideas. They all boiled down to about the same thing since she didn't have a lot to go off of. Settling on one, she first made a simple sketch of the idea. It would be her guide, a projection of what was in her head. After the general idea was on paper, she took a while to change the details, erasing and adding parts until she felt happy with it.

Then, it was on to the actual gift. She was much more careful with this version, going slower and drawing lightly so she could erase if necessary without leaving marks. Time slowly ticked by, but that was fine; she didn't have anywhere else she needed to be, anything else she needed to do. When the outline was done, she added color and shading.

At some point, she decided she was happy enough with what she'd done. It wasn't perfect, but it didn't have to be. Besides, while she didn't have much else to do, Bridget had no intention of spending her entire evening in the library. Since she'd be going home in a few days for several weeks, she wanted to spend some time with her friends.

Finished, she returned the materials she'd used and carefully picked up her paper, angling the paper so the blank side faced out. Walking through the rows of shelves, she deposited the gift with the librarian, thanked her for setting up the errand, and left the library.

Word Count: 1026/1000
Errand Complete

December 3rd, 2020

Kazuo had signed up for the Secret Santa on a whim. Christmas was not something he was overly familiar with; it wasn’t a commonly celebrated holiday in Japan in general and coming from a traditional clan meant that he was even further distanced from the western holiday. Giving and receiving gifts sounded interesting, particularly in watching the reactions of students as they received their gifts. It was always fascinating to watch people reveal their true nature through such endeavours. Would they appreciate the undoubtedly amateur crafts or would they turn up their noses at such things?

The owl came to him while he was stargazing out in the courtyard, dropping the envelope into his hands before winging away. He carefully unfolded it, revealing the name of the student he would be creating a gift for. He stared at the name and the small details included thoughtfully. He didn’t know the person receiving his gift very well but he hadn’t exactly been the most social person so that wasn’t a surprise. He only knew a handful of his fellow students at this point.

Kazuo tucked the letter into his pocket and turned his feet back toward the school, making the long, familiar trek back to the library, the one place in the school that he truly felt comfortable. He gave the librarian a shy smile as he passed, heading to the craft area to examine the miscellaneous supplies. He’d given some thought to what he might be able to do when he signed up, limited by his general lack of craft skills. His calligraphy skills were decent but would the person appreciate something like that? Well it didn’t really matter if they appreciated it or not, that would be their problem. He would do his best to make something appropriate with the limited skills he had.

He found the corner the Librarian had set aside for them and began to pick through the supplies, gathering up a decent sized piece of poster paper, several brushes and a set of water colour paints. He had thought about using his own calligraphy set as he had done the last time he’d crafted something but this poster seemed like it would be better done with regular paints. His set had limited colours and he didn’t want to mix them. Water colours tended to be easier to mix whereas his inks were quite expensive and he didn’t want end up wasting them when a better solution was available.

The first part of the design was the easiest, mostly because he’d painted them a hundred times. An often used staple in Japanese brush art, a favorite symbol for the Japanese, the delicate pink sakura blossoms. It was also a favorite of Kazuo’s, the bright bloom of spring that quickly fades, reflective of the transience of life. The dark brown of the branches arching out, dotted by soft splashes of pink in varied shades, blooming across the page. He contemplated the blossoms as they dried, wondering what to add next.

He needed a reference… Jumping up from his corner, his headed back out into the library to acquire an illustration for the next piece of the painting. This would be much harder as he had never tried to draw one before. At least realism wasn’t really his goal. That, at least, made the drawing he was about to do a bit less stressful. He returned to the supplies, grabbing some sketch paper and a pencil, then settled down to dedicate himself to the long and arduous task of drawing a cartoonish looking animal. This easily consumed the most time, the soft suss of pencil on paper followed by the rub of the eraser, then more pencil sounds. The occasional crack of lead and a pause to sharpen the pencil. Kazuo went through several sheets of paper full of rough sketches before he finally settled on one that he felt was good enough. He carefully transferred the sketch to the poster, outlining it with black marker before filling it in with the water colour paints.

Finally, he added the last touch to the painting, the name of the recipient. With careful precision, he first wrote their name in English, across the top, then, along the left side, he carefully wrote it again in katakana. It was a simple sort of thing, nothing more than a sounding. He had considered finding an appropriate kanji reading but upon receiving the name, he realized that might be beyond him. Their first name he could probably have found an appropriate kanji for but the last name, it did not have an obvious meaning, at least to his limited English. So the simpler katakana reading, still true to their name but without the complex meaning behind a kanji reading.

Kazuo leaned back, letting the brush sink into the water cup, studying the poster. Was it too simple? Should he have done more? He tapped his fingers on the table as he considered what he could add. His eyes travelled to a nearby stack of coloured paper and he grinned. Perhaps he could do a little more, something simple that he was quite good at.

He gathered several sheets of paper, red, blue, white, black, and orange. Carefully trimming the paper to the size and shape that he wanted, then folding them, one at a time, into a multicoloured menagerie of paper animals. Red became a beautiful firebird, blue a scaly dragon, white a tiger, black a turtle, and orage a fox. Some judicious use of a black marker to give them a bit of detail. A bit of shimmery golden embroidery thread to affix the menagerie along the bottom of the painting, letting them dangle and spin.

He held it up and gazed at the final product, pleased with what he had managed to produce. It was simple, he had to admit, but he had given it his best effort and that was all he could do. Carefully, he rolled the painting up, securing it with more golden thread to keep the surprise hidden until the recipient opened it. He took a moment to tidy up the area he had used and put the brushes, paint and paper away. Once that was done, he headed back toward the desk where the Librarian had indicated they should leave their completed gifts.

“Thank you for the opportunity to take part in this interesting tradition, Miss Finley,” Kazuo spoke respectfully, giving her a polite bow as he handed over the gift. “It was very kind of you to arrange all of this.” With his duty done, he retreated from the library, nothing left to do but wait until Christmas.

Word Count: 1113

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Wren was quiet. It seemed as if the eerie silence that filled her mind had taken over Hogwarts as well. As she walked down the hall, she noticed there was no one laughing or carrying on, there was no one causing mischief much to the dismay of the professors, and surprisingly, there wasn't even one teacher parading the halls for troublesome children to scold. It was as she noticed, depressing.

The day had gone by with not so much as a hitch, her mood was like any other this year, dark, sad and anxious, but even though she had something to look forward to in the afternoon it did nothing to raise her thoughts from the pit of hell. Her father was dead, her mother was a widow, her and her brother were orphans, her great aunt, whom she turned to for every problem in her life, died months ago and she was still getting over the news when her father's condition was made known to them and not even three months later, he was gone. She would be going back for the funeral over a weekend, but like any other week she would return to the one place she had to make a home for the sake of her mother. They did not need an extra burden now and she would not become one. By staying away, she would become the far away daughter, destined for greatness but not a loving father or a complete family.

She walked and walked in the silence. No one knew her troubles, nor did she want anyone to know. They were hers and hers alone. It was no one's business and she didn't talk to any of her friends enough for them to notice. She liked to curl up on her bed and read a book, or cry or just sit there and think of things that did nothing but make her want to yell and scream and punch someone. The person from last year was buried deep underground clawing her way up to the surface in a futile attempt because the person who had taken over her body would not go down without a fight.

Today though, today was different. A sliver of a glimpse of the person she used to be would come out as she had, at a last attempt to do anything relating to the holidays, signed up for a secret Santa thing in the library. She had overheard someone in the library, and as she was obviously not doing anything else had thought why not.

She arrived at the destination she was seeking to find that this was the reason the hallways were so, so quiet. Almost everyone was in the library making things for secret Santa. As she wandered around the room looking for an empty seat away from most people, she wondered if someone had gotten her for a secret Santa. Would she wake up on Christmas to have something? After all, she knew she wouldn't get anything from her mother or brother, and she didn't want to ask. She had vowed not to be burden and especially around the holidays, a burden she would certainly not be.

She finally found a secluded seat at one of the tables, and sat down to make her craft. She didn’t know what to make the person she had received as she had never met them before. They were a Hufflepuff she heard, so Wren got all the yellow things in site. Glitter, glue, paper etc. There were so many possibilities she didn't know what to do with them. Then the idea came to her. An ornament. Was it original? No. But would it be when she was finished? Yes. She also decided to make a textbook cover for her Secret Santa as well. That way there would be a bit more than just a poorly made ornament, because she wasn't the most artistic person in the world.

She started to draw the Hufflepuff house symbol with a badger on the front. She wasn't the best drawer in the world, but she could try her best. When she was finished drawing on the front, she put the name of her secret Santa on the back in curly letters. Wren held it in front of her face inspecting her work. She deemed it good. Then, proceeding to fill the ornament with gold glitter, she set it down to work on her next gift.

The next gift was a textbook cover. She found some material, velvet, because it was soft and truly, simply divine material, and started to cut it out into the pieces she wanted. She then proceeded to pull out a needle and thread from her pocket survival kit, which she always carried around in case of emergencies, threaded the needle and began. Sewing was a calming mechanism, it helped in times of stress. She liked it and was glad that the needle was in her hand. Lost in her thoughts, she did not notice the trickle of blood slowly, so slowly, running down her pointer finger. She inhaled sharply.

damn it she cursed and tried to wipe the blood off on her dark AC/DC hoodie.

She looked around for something to tape around it and honed in on some scotch tape and a scrap of fabric. It would do until she got back to her room where she had a band-aid. She taped up her finger, then continued to finish her cover. When she finished, she held out her work and then, satisfied with it, reached for the wrapping paper. She carefully wrapped up her presents using the scotch tape from her finger, then tied a bow around the gift. It was done. She breathed a sigh of relief and stood up. Her chair scraped against the ground and she looked behind her, hoping she had not disturbed anyone.

She looked around to where she was to drop the box off, spotted it and walked over to it. She had added a little name tag to the decorations so people would know who it was for. She sighed and walked out of the library. Though not before checking out her next read. She planned to go back to her room and read in the sorrowful silence to take her mind off things.

WC: 1063

| Outfit |

Percival felt a little unsure of himself as he walked into the Library. He had never been good at getting others, especially someone he did not know, a gift. Especially, when that person is a different gender then himself. Percival didn't know much about the girl who he had to make a present for. He didn't know her favorite color or her favorite time of the year. The boy wasn't so sure it had been a smart move to put off his present making. Now all he felt was the underlying stress of having to come up with a present in only a few days.

He had signed up for Secret Santa more on a whim then anything else. To say he was bored out of his mind would have been an understatement. It was too cold to go sit out by the Great Lake for hours, and he did not feel like studying. So when he had heard about this little gift giving he had jumped at the chance. A distraction seemed perfectly reasonable as the winter break approached. After his last run in with his Uncle Terrence, Percival found himself wanting to go back home for the holidays grow less and less. The boy didn't truly understand what happened that faithful night of his grandather's passing. Though something within him told himself to be careful. It was possible his survival instincts were finally kicking in but he was unsure.

The boy took a cursory glance around the Library. The room was pack filled with students trying to finish their last-minute gifts. The air smelt rather dusty. One could see the dust particles floating about in the air where rays of sun filtered in. The normal quiet atmosphere was interrupted by the sounds of snipping and papers rustling as people rushed to finish. Percival swore he could also hear the few quiet swears of a frustrated student nearby. The boy quickly sat down at a clear table covered in many different art supplies. Percival maneuvered the scraps and supplies out of his way. As he did so, the boy would pick up some of the materials studying each one. There was a pile of brightly colored embroidery thread. Small metal wires lay about. Some of which resembled the backings to an earring.

Percival could not help but feel a tad lost and even a little bit overwhelmed. The boy loved to paint, but he had never been insanely good at it. His paintings had only served to help center himself during his stays with his grandparents. This was the first time he had actually brought together a present for someone he wasn't so sure actually existed. In a way, this crafting felt like a larger step forward towards the arts than he had ever taken before. The underlying pressure to do his best work propelled him forward to taking a deeper look into the objects surrounding him. Percival's eyes instantly caught onto a few colored felt squares. The yellow and brown squares slowly weaved in his brain as he debated on what he could create. The boy knew the very basics of the person he was making a gift for. He knew that they a Gryffindor and that they were a she. Percival blinked before his eyes lit up with enthusiasm. He could make her lion earrings! The idea seemed cute and safe to give to someone he didn't personally know.

Fueled with his idea, the boy quickly picked up a marker to mark where he needed to cut. First, he cut out four brown little circles that would make up the ears. He quickly placed them aside so that they would not get lost in the sea of scraps. Two brown ovals were cut next to make up the heads. The easier part was completed and now came the harder part. The shape of the mane was rather jagged with many little minuscule cuts here and there. Percival brought the felt square close up to his as he slowly began to cut out the correct shape. Unbeknownst to him, the boy stuck out his tongue slightly as he focused on the project.

Percival sighed after he finished cutting some of the tension disappearing from his shoulders. The boy brought all the pieces in front of him to take a good look at everything he had cut. Percival smiled to himself clearly taking pride in his work so far. He didn't usually have enough patience to take his time when he was doing something artistic. Percival stacked the felt pieces up on top of one another, and he was pleasantly surprised that the felt pieces looked quite a bit like a lion.

There were only three steps left before he would be completely done. He just needed to glue the pieces together, draw a face on, and finally attach them to the earring wire. Percival picked up some glue and carefully dabbed the stuff onto the back of the brown oval. The boy did his best to avoid getting glue on his finger tips as he pressed the shape into the yellow mane. Though it was all for naught.

Percival grimaced as his fingers stuck slightly to the felt. The boy ripped his fingers away from the fuzzy material, but small brown hairs stuck to where the residual glue was. Percival huffed to himself in annoyance but continued to press forward. Slowly but surely the felt pieces were all glued together. The head of the lion looked rather regal put together.

The boy couldn't help but be rather proud of his work, and he couldn't wait to attach it. Percival carefully attached the little felt lions to what he was fairly certain was a earring. The boy held up his gift smiling to himself. Percival quickly cleaned up his table, throwing away scraps of the felt that could not be used no longer. With great caution, the boy made his way over to drop off his gift. A small little tag had been attached to one of the metal wires.

Word Count: 1017/1000

Hexcode= #507091

A few blocks of wax and a pouch filled with flowers lay within the satchel strung around his shoulder and resting at his side. Never having met the person whom he was supposed to be sending a gift to, he would have worried had he not remembered the words of his parents. "Anyone can use a candle." True enough, it was easy enough to make a candle. The steps seemed simple and he felt creative enough to mold wax into the shape of his newest invention. It was just the right kind of project for him too, detailed if he did it right, but not overly complicated in the procedures. He could take his time to distill the oils out of the lavender, and use the cloyingly sweet scent of heavy cream to compliment the gift. Excited, Sylvain made his way to the library.

The library was a spot that he'd grown accustomed to working in by now, and seeing Robyn filled Sylvain's tiny heart with joy. It would be a comfy, cozy winter evening of crafting in the most wonderful room in all of Hogwarts. When Sylvain had first heard that Robyn set out a Secret Santa sign-up, he was on board in a heart beat, signing his name onto the list excited to share joy. The owls he had gotten later that week carried a name unfamiliar to him, as well as disappointing news, but he took it as an opportunity to start their friendship off on a high note while ignoring his own problems.

Sitting down at the worn wooden table which had crafts and gifts galore spread across its surface, Sylvain pulled out a potion vial in the standard shape. A spherically round crystal vial with a cork stopper atop it's slender neck. Joyed to wave at Robyn as she came over to check his progress, Sylvain handed her to two blocks of wax that he'd brought to melt down with an enthusiastic smile. It was a task she did competently without a hiccup, producing two clay cups filled with hot wax in a hurry. Already transfixed on the next step of his project, Sylvain hardly noticed when she set the clay cups filled with molten wax next to him. A polite, "Thank you," would escape his lips, though he would be hard pressed to remember if she said anything else.

First things first, he decided to line the bottom of the vial with a bit of talc powder so the wax would settle down evenly without air bubbles. He then took a bit of waxed wick, cut it to length, and anchored it to the bottom with a bit of paste. After pouring the first layer of pale, unctuous cream scented wax into the vial, he let it cool before adding new layers. As excited as he was to create something new his patience was practiced. Dropping a sprig of lavender, whole and in tact, atop the drying base layer for interest, Sylvain grabbed a mortar and pestle and began working the remainder of the pale purple flower into an oil as he thought of other ways to decorate the candle.

Gold glitter seemed a bit too kitschy for most people's tastes, but a curly gold ribbon to wrap the candle with seemed just right to him. Cutting a length of ribbon Sylvain used the edge of his scissors like a hard surface dragging the ribbon across it until it curled like the tail of a pig. He felt like it was satisfying to curl ribbons like that, using a single outward motion like he was ripping the tape off of a box. Setting the fancy ribbon aside, Sylvain checked the base layer of the candle with a toothpick gently. Sure enough, the wax had set in the time he'd spent working on the other ingredients and he could begin pouring the next layer without the fear of mixing the waxes.

An oozing stream of purple wax poured from the clay vessel filling the bottom third of the candle so that a striped pattern began to form near its base. Setting the hot wax holder back down on the table, Sylvain began working his magic on a bit of clove and licorice sprig before adding those to the center of the candle near the wick. His hope was that this candle lasted a good six to ten hours, but since it was the first candle he'd ever made, he be glad if it lit at all. Taking a small break, Sylvain rested his hands on his lap while he watched the hot wax slowly change from a translucent purple, into an opaque lavender.

Getting lost in his mind while he waited, Sylvain began thinking of his life back home in Scotland, and how drastically things had changed since the summer. To say it made him sad was an understatement, but he didn't feel angry or contempt, just fear for the future, and pity for his parents. It was one thing to stay at school for winter break, he had done that once before. It was entirely a new adventure to be given back up for adoption on the other hand. The distraction of channeling his inner chandler had helped him somewhat, but the more he focused on the work waiting in front of him, the further his thoughts wandered towards home. Or rather it wandered towards the uncertainty of his home, so he started working again.

Sure enough, he was sitting proudly with the candle completed before too much time had passed. A globe shaped potion bottle held a handmade candle of layers, purple and white alternating between lavender and cream respectively. The clove and licorice near the center would be a pleasant warning that the aromatic wax had reached its half-life, but it also doubled as a way of renewing interest in the magic that the candle provided. That his work was sure to impress himself was a given, but as he placed the ribbon around the neck of the potion vial he sealed the candle with a cork stopper and a bit of wax and a dash of doubt. Hopefully she like it, if not, then at least he had learned something new.

Using some stationary, Sylvain decided to write a message to accompany the candle, punching a hole in one corner before attaching it to the ribbon.

Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year,

I hope this candle apperates you to a pleasant meadow where your worries are drowned by the scent of flowers.

Best Wishes,
Sylvain

Mentions @Robyn Finley

Evening, December 21, 2020
───── ⋆★⋆ ─────

English ⋆ Parseltongue

Mars rushed into the library with a stack of random objects piled in their arms. Late, late, somehow they were always late. Maybe they ought to just accept it was a character trait by now.

They ran—ahem, speed-walked through the space, past the bookshelves and small crowd of reading faces to a random table. With a little grunt, they managed to drop their supplies into a haphazard mess, hands immediately flying to their hips.

Okay. They had the stuff. They were in the library. Now... just to figure out what the hell to do. Mars let out a sigh loud enough for the librarian to scold them for.

"Why do I alwayss do this to mysself?" they muttered under their breath. Mars had found that they always fell into Parseltongue whenever they had something scathing to say. Ughhh.

Okay, okay. Get your thoughts together. Mars put a hand under their chin, looking over the materials they'd brought. Who was this gift for again? The name popped into their head, someone completely unfamiliar. Darn. It would've been so much easier if they'd actually known what this person was like. Alas, they were shooting in the dark.

It was getting very hard to resist the urge to pace at this point. This was difficult. Handmade gifts were... not their forte. It would've been a much easier task to buy something or record something or hell, they would've baked cookies if they could, but no, there were certain limitations to being at a magical boarding school and those limitations rendered such options completely void. So, they'd have to get creative. Frick, they sucked at being creative.

Geez, they'd been mentally complaining for a while now, huh? That was very likely the least helpful thing they could do at this moment in time. They just had to—do something.

Resisting the urged to bang their head on a table, Mars slid into the chair, eyes roaming their supplies once more. Ideas, ideas. What was something that would be universally liked? There was only so much they could tell from a name, but there had to be something, no?

Tearing their gaze from the wholly unhelpful pile of clutter, Mars found themselves roaming the shelves of the library. Books... books... books... Ah! They had a spark of genius for half a second before slumping back down in their spot. No, that wouldn't work. It had to be handmade, after all, and—looking at the clock—yeah no, they definitely could not write a book in 6ish hours.

They sighed, setting the idea on the back burner for now. What else? Something cute... cats? Okay, no live animals. Music? But again, not hand-made, and they didn't have the equipment to record a cover and send it off like they might have otherwise. Food? No. The house-elves would probably murder them if they tried to set a foot in the kitchen.

"Marss, you infernal idiot, think of ssomething," they resisted shouting. Nauseatingly loud hissing was not something the library needed, they were sure. Mars, Mars, why do you have to be so—oh. Well, that was something, wasn't it? Mars... planets, space, stars... wasn't their secret santa's name astral?

In all fairness, it was a complete and utter shot in the dark, but—it was worth a go. Stars... pleased they'd actually found an idea, Mars turned back to their pile. Ah, sh*t. They forgot. They couldn't very well make a star. That made... absolutely no sense. Also, if they could, they should just be crown ruler of the wizarding world and call it a day. If that was even a thing. Okay, no, not helpful.

Hmm. Stars... Stars... and books. Books and stars. Astronomy. Mars' eyebrow went up a little. There was something they actually knew, at least in some small part. Beyond Astronomy classes at Hogwarts, they'd always been invested in the night sky, what with their name and lack of sleeping ability. Constellations fascinated them, as did the lore and myths behind them.

So, something about astronomy and astrology then. But what? A chart, maybe, but they felt that was a little plain. There were dozens of those around the school already, and they wanted their gift to be something at least slightly more personal. Back to books then. Books and astronomy. Writing a book. Writing a book. Illustrating a book. Drawing a—jesus, why did their brain work this way? Not that they were really complaining.

With a massive grin, Mars finally settled on an idea. How about this: a sketch book filled with little astronomy facts and pictures? Would that be nice? They could include a quill and a few ink colors too, dark purple, gold, midnight blue... wow, that one random splurge at Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop was paying off. Bless their good luck.

With a plan firmly in place, Mars picked up a quill, full prepared to begin—and then stopped, remembering one very important fact. They... couldn't draw to save their life. Ughh. Honestly, please, Mars just—learn some useful skills, please. It would make your life so much easier.

Now what. Now... now. Well... they had ink. A paintbrushes. And magazines. So—collage? They could make up for the rest of it by spewing quotes in random places and adding a ton of lore on Greek gods. Okay. Okay. They had a game plan. Now... they just had to do it.

Standing up abruptly from their seat, they—speed-walked through the shelves, grabbing a few books on Astronomy. Plopping them down by their supplies, Mars grabbed the blank sketchbook they'd found buried deep in their duffle bag and laid it out in front of them.

They took a dark piece of paper, traced the cover of the notebook, and cut it out. Dipping their paintbrush into the ink, they brushed it over the paper, swirling colors together in a brilliant symphony. Galaxy, was what they were trying for, perfecting the stunning imperfection, loose and flowing and bright. It was easy to get sucked into this, blotting royal colors on the dark background, watching it be swallowed up again and again.

Mars wasn't entirely sure how long they worked, just that the candlelight in the library never flickered, gentle hue growing warmer as the sky darkened. They liked arts and crafts to a certain extended—not fine art, not by a long shot, but the simple mundanity of overlaying blotches of color and drawing tiny caricatures of the real sun and moon and stars over top this inky mess. It was funny, really, how easily one could make something beautiful. Mars always found they worked better for someone else.

Throwing open the various books they pulled from the shelves, Mars scoured the pages of any worthwhile facts. Jupiter's stripes were caused by zonal winds called jets; the light ones were called zones, the dark ones called belts. Nyx is goddess of the night, Selene goddess of the moon. The core of a star reaches 16 million degrees celsius, hot enough for a single grain of sand to kill from 150 km away. Callisto is both one of Jupiter's moons and a former member of Artemis' hunt turned bear. The lack of atmosphere on the moon will cause footprints to remain there for the next 100 million years. A majority of the characters from Perseus, one of the only greek heroes with a positive ending, are immortalized in constellations. Ceres is the largest asteroid, the North Star moves. Space is silent, completely silent, achingly silent, until you wish for symphonies to blare out-loud in your head, and you miss the sound of your own voice.

They captured each of these amongst the blank pages, carefully written in gold and silver, between scraps of star charts and magazine clippings. Mars hoped with all their heart this gift would be well-recieved.

They lost track of time writing, gluing, painting, the pile of waste paper slowly growing. Mars felt their hand growing messier and messier with each stroke, but they couldn't stop now. It was almost finished.

Then finally, finally, it was done. They set down the quill and stretched their fingers, throwing their head back to stare at the ceiling. Who knew arts and crafts could be so exhausting? Mars forced themselves up, pushing their scraps into a pile which they'd clean later, and pulled over the special inkwells and quill. Pulling out a silver and gold ribbon from the heap of supplies, they tied neat little bows onto all of them, securing the quill flat over the three ink bottles. With ginger fingers, careful not to be to rough with it til it dried, they tied a ribbon around the notebook as well. Then, they slipped each of these into a dark bag.

There was only one thing left to do. Grabbing the quill a final time, even as their hand screamed in protest, Mars pulled over a piece of parchment and folded it in too. With neat script, they wrote,

To my Secret Santa,

Hello there! I suppose this is where I reveal who I am, huh? Well, that can wait a moment longer. I do hope you enjoy the gift. I did my best and thought I'm not a spectcular artist, I'm quite pleased with the way it turned out. I hope you put it to good use. Please eat some cookies this winter season!

Happy Holidays and Warmest Wishes, Mars

And they were done. Mars sat back, staring at the pile of trash they'd created. Ugh. Really did not want to clean that up. Ah well, they could do it in a moment. For now, they'd just sit and relax and admire the way the candlelight bounced off the bookshelves, the clock slowly counting down the minutes for break to arrive.

WC: 1635/1000
Pictures of the gift and a few important pages below.

Reducio

Credit for the quotes goes to Martin Luther King Jr., Oscar Wilde, and Les Brown

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Interacting With: Jasmine
Mentioning: Willow Anderson's friendship bracelet | how awesome Robyn is
Hex Color: #FF4080
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Ana was a woman on a mission. She had received her note the previous morning and spent much of the following day planning out her present. Her embroidery skills were about to come in very handy, which she could say with confidence was a first. The idea of homemade presents was new to her and she was rather obsessed. She wished that she had more useful skills to make her friends things for Christmas. Her parents had always aired on the side of obscenely expensive yet impersonal gifts. While Ana would absolutely never turn down a diamond necklace or the like, handmade things like her friendship bracelet from Willow made her feel very warm and fuzzy inside. She walked into the library with a determination in her mind. A scrap of paper in her bag bore her outline, which was sketched surprisingly well for someone who claimed to dislike drawing as much as Ana did. Jasmine pranced majestically behind Ana, having decided that whatever Ana was doing was far more deserving of her attention than chasing the pygmy puff she had nearly eaten earlier.

Ana was quickly able to locate her supplies - an embroidery hoop, some muslin, a needle, scissors, and several colors of floss. She laid them out before her, before pulling out her sketch again. She was experienced enough that she was fairly confident she could replicate her idea. The first bit was simple enough, merely the outline of a teacup, in a relatively easy stitch. Ana's thoughts drifted as she began. Last December, she'd been traveling with her parents. Had that really been only a year ago? It seemed a lifetime to the Gryffindor. She wondered if the girl she'd been then would even recognize her then. There had been a time when her biggest problem had been not wanting to go to New York because she was missing out on Quidditch, and the next contender had been finding a new gown that didn't resemble anything she had worn previously. Somehow, none of that seemed quite as world ending as it had when it was happening.

Her cup was finished and now it was time to begin on her flowers. She reached for the floss, only to find it missing. She glanced around irritably, wondering how she had managed to misplace it or knock it over while she'd been lost in her thoughts. Her query was quickly answered, as she saw a trail of the floss, leading away from her table, and her cat absolutely nowhere to be found.

Sighing exasperatedly, she set down her embroidery and followed the trail. It culminated in Jasmine and a strange sight. It appeared as though she had been attempting to set some type of trap for another cat that sat staring curiously but had instead gotten herself hopelessly tangled in the thread. "Why are you like this?" Ana muttered, bending over and picking up her cat, who was now meowing pathetically as though she was thoroughly the victim in this situation.

She went back to her work station, where she managed to cut the floss off of a very wiggly and loud cat. She bit her lip as she contemplated her dilemma. She definitely couldn't leave Jasmine alone with the half-finished embroidery, but she also needed more floss and she couldn't very well bring Jasmine with her, since that took two hands. Eventually, Ana managed to tuck an exceedingly indignant Bengal under her arm and acquired more floss, as well as some scraps of yarn to occupy her companion.

With her feline interruption dealt with and happily playing on the floor next to her, Ana turned her focus back to her work. The flowers were a bit more complex than the cup had been, requiring Ana to focus more fully. Not that she was complaining, as her thoughts weren't exactly pleasant. The pinks and orange took shape and she finished them off with some leaves. Ana smoothed her work and beheld it with satisfaction. Jasmine leaped up onto the table and glared at the finished product for several moments before pouncing at it. Ana pulled it out of the way and chided her pet before folding her gift and placing it in her bag. Jasmine was clearly not going to be supportive of Ana finishing the second part of her gift, so Ana was going to need to revisit that at a later date.

Ana returned two days later, sans feline. Given all of the interference from her kitten with the first part of her project, Ana wasn't willing to risk her messing this bit up, since it required even more precision and caution than her embroidery. Ana had gotten her hands on a plain white teacup and saucer and some paints, thanks to the ever-helpful librarian. She had rather committed to a tea theme, but she was confident her recipient was at least mildly fond of tea.

The cup sat before her, demanding to be enhanced. Ana stared at it, deeply regretting many life choices at the moment. She wasn't the most creative. When she was, it was things like ballet or embroidery that had some level of restriction and were not left entirely to her to think of. Still, it was the thought that counted, right? She didn't have to make the most exciting teacup design ever, just something pretty. With some reflection upon her embroidery, she decided to continue with her floral patterning and warm color palette. Brow furrowed and tongue slightly poking out of her mouth as it did when she was hyper-focused, Ana began her task of precision. She figured out that the amount of caffeine she normally consumed made her hands slightly shaky, so she had forgone her coffee that day. A sacrifice, but her art would be worth it. The pink flowers came out perfectly, and then her attention was on the gold accents. Not real gold, like Ana might have liked. It seemed that paint containing actual gold flakes wasn't something that people just had on hand, so she made do with a lovely metallic paint. Perfectly steady hands lined the rim and saucer with the gold as a finishing touch and Ana was finished. She really hoped her recipient liked tea...

The Gifts

Reducio

Reducio

The Note

Dear [Redacted to preserve Secret Santa-y Secrecy]
I wish you a Merry Christmas (or a Merry whatever holiday you celebrate, I'm celebrating Christmas, so I shall wish you a Merry that, but if you don't, I hope your holiday is lovely). You've survived an entire term at Hogwarts, which is certainly something to be lauded. In any event, I hope that my attempts at artwork brought you a small bit of brightness.
Sincerely,

Katie padded softly into the library. It was one of her favorite places in Hogwarts to go. It was peaceful, quote and filled with fascinating books. One might think that Katie was a Ravenclaw for this book-loving attitude of hers, but Katie was cunning too, and hence, the sorting hat had seen it for to sort her into Slytherin. Katie smiled to herself as she plopped down into a chair and became immersed in her thoughts.

Katie was thinking through possible gifts for her Secret Santa partner. Katie first thought about drawing some pictures for her Secret Santa partner, but Katie decided against it. Sure, she was quite skilled at drawing and art; however, Katie wanted to do something a little more meaningful for this. Katie drew a lot, and because of that, Katie felt like that would make it less sincere of a gift.

Then, another thought came to Katie's mind. Maybe Katie could knit a scarf for her Secret Santa partner. She quickly saw several positives to this gift option. For one, it was wintertime in Scotland, and that was a time that a scarf would be quite useful. A gift with a purpose in a sense. Secondly, Katie knew how to knit. When Katie was eight years old, she had watched one of her house elves, Kelsy, knitting a warm winter scarf. Katie had immediately been drawn to the hobby with wooden needles and yarn, and had convinced Kelsy to teach her how to knit.

Katie glanced over at all of the craft supplies. She most noticeably saw construction paper, tape, glue, markers, and a whole load of other supplies. Her eyes kept scanning down the supplies, until she finally saw what she needed. A pile of yarn. Katie kept her soft, smootg, wooden knitting needles on her all of the time, so she only needed the yarn, and if course a pair of scissors to cut the yarn at the end before tying off the scarf. Katie grinned to herself as she saw the mounds of beautiful, brightly colored yarn.

Katie walked over to the yarn, and sifted through the different balls, searching for the perfect one. She picked up a light pink ball that had a pretty hue, but quickly discarded it due to its coarser texture. Katie wanted to use the softest ball of yarn that she could find, that also had a pretty color of course. Her eyes settled in a deep purple ball next, but it was only slightly softer than the light pink ball that she had held not moments before. Katie then felt an extraordinarily soft ball that felt like how Katie imagined clouds must feel like. She pulled it out from the depths of the yarn pile, and was immediately disappointed. While it was quite soft and was a pretty, pearly white ball of yarn, the strands of yarn themselves were some of the fluffiest things Katie had ever encountered on a ball of yarn. Katie frowned in disappointment, because she knew that it would be next to impossible to work with.

Then, her eyes settled in a different ball of yarn. It was a medium shade of blue that was very pretty. Katie reached out a hand to touch it, and found that it was extremely soft. It wasn't as soft as the previous ball, sure, but it was still very soft, and would be relatively easy to work with.

She smiled to herself and got right to work. She lost herself in her thoughts while knitting. Once she got into a rhythm with her yarn and knitting needles, it could be quote hard for outside observers to shake her out of it. In, up, around, over, down would be good Katie could best describe the process of knitting, but obviously that didn't give a loot if information to someone who had never knit before. Katie knew that knitting could also seem old fashioned at times. After all, who'd want to do something so time consuming. But Katie didn't view it as either of those. She saw it as comforting, fun, and relaxing. A perfect way to create a beautiful, meaningful, and also useful gift for someone for no monetary cost and have a fun afternoon while at it. She softly hummed a piece of classical music she'd once heard, but she didn't remember all the notes, so she stopped after she couldn't remember how it continued.

Katie liked to make her stitches tight. Obviously she couldn't make them tho right or the stitches wouldn't be able to comply with the demands of her needles, but they should be on the tighter side instead of the looser side of the spectrum. Too loose, and the scarf would be less warm as the cold brittle air one would wear a scarf in would be able to drop through the holes between the stitches in the scarf. That kinda defeated the purpose of wearing a scarf in the first place in Katie's opinion.

She looked up at the time. She still had another hour or so until lunchtime, so she decided to make the scarf slightly longer. She smiled to herself as she worked with the beautiful yarn. A day of sunlight streamed through the window and put of the corner of her eye, Katie saw her scarf sparkle. She examined it more closely, and was astounded at the fact that she had been completely oblivious to the fact that the yarn she had picked out was sparkly with glitter specs attached to it. She let out a quiet chuckle with a slightly goofy grin. She couldn't believe that she had completely missed that aspect of her yarn she had been working with the whole morning.

It looked good on the yarn though. The glitter seemed to accentuate the yarn's prettiness, which may have been one of Katie's reasons for selecting the yarn bell in the first place on some deep, subconscious level. Katie was just about done, so she tied of the scarf. It was a good length now and would be able to wrap around a person's neck a few times to keep them warm as it was designed to do of course. She smiled proudly at her final product.

She ultimately choose to place out in a small, brown, woven gift bag that had a rose on its front. Simple, but adequate for her purposes nonetheless. It was only December 15th, but her mother and father had sent her a set of six bags, all identical, to her for her twelfth birthday a few days ago. She wasn't quite sure if their thought process, but they seemed to think she would need them and show seemed like a fine use of one of the six bags in Katie's opinion. She packaged it up and exhorted the library, after handing her gift to Robyn Finley, the Secret Santa organizer who would be distributing the gifts, with a cheerful smile.

DECEMBER 19TH, 2020

Winter. Winter was always satisfying. Well, mostly, for this winter was certainly an exception. November of 2020 had changed her life completely. Though people might see moving as a normal thing that almost everybody would do at least once in life, Lindsey apparently had a different opinion. She had regretted telling her top secret to her grandfather, for after that her family was forced to leave their old house. It was sold out. By her great grandfather, who had certainly asked his son, her grandfather before doing so. And Lindsey, along with her brother Edmund, felt tricked.

The result was that she didn’t trust her grandfather anymore. The Duke Springhall, her great grandfather, started picking on the four as soon as they arrived at Springhall Heights. Her parents could say nothing to those criticizes, and they had to bear it with her as well. Most importantly, there came a rule, established by the upper ones in the family —

The Count Fitzwilliam, Countess Carolyn, Lord Edmund and Lady Lindsey could not leave the Springhall Heights during vacations when they are not at work or school. Nobody is able to visit them during the holidays.

How terrible. Which meant that she had to stay there for the whole winter holidays — the luxury yet cold and dull manor. Lindsey disliked it from the very first time she stepped into it. Which meant that this Christmas couldn’t be spend with her dear cousins Enjolras and Combeferre, her uncle Andre, and aunt Yvonne. They were not expected to the manor, because of…nothing. At least the reason of it was forbidden to her. To her parents as well. Nobody knew why.

Bitterly Lindsey bit her lips. No meeting with her relatives meant no gift exchanging this year anymore. So why not have one in Hogwarts? That’s the reason why she had signed up for a “Secret Santa” errand established by the new librarian. Christmas was a time for giving. So perhaps she would continue the family tradition in her school. Although…it might be less fun than with her family.

That was her original thought. However, when the young badger stepped into the library and headed for the crafting corner, everything had changed. Seeing many others whom she was acquainted with or not acquainted with were all merrily crafting on their own and establishing a bunch of amazing presents, she was amazed. Really, it could be really fun, even she’s crafting with her own self.

Carelessly sweeping some curls to her back and glancing at her cat Napoleon to make sure that he’s following, Lindsey picked an armchair and sat down. She had always loved the library — with golden rays of the afternoon sun spread on her face. She had learnt that her partner was a lion — and a younger one as well. The name of the lucky person couldn’t be revealed before the gifts were sent out according to the rules, so prudently Lindsey decided to keep it as a secret.

She had been considering the perfect present for a couple of days. A bracelet? A hand crafted house emblem? A chessboard? None of them seemed nice. And unfortunately Lindsey somehow lack the basic creativity, and the result was she tended to ask her brother for help. Her elder brother Edmund had sent her a couple of ideas via his beloved owl Jadis, and the sister had well received them. At last, an embroidery of a roaring lion was chosen.

Secretly sending Jadis to her parents, Lindsey received all the materials she wished. As her father had written, James had helped with preparing them and keeping the secret from the Duke Springhall and Imogen. That was really kind of him, thought the badger. With a small sigh, she sank into the soft, ancient armchair she picked in a corner.

Carefully looking over the plain white cloth bag, she picked up the bunch of threads and the needle. The background should be bright red, as it was directed to a lion. Quickly she started sewing. Grandmother Verna had taught her a bit basic sewing when she was quite young, about six or seven of age, and Lindsey still remembered the skills. Somehow she managed to not get herself poked by the pointed needle, and she let out a relieving breath for it.

Now it was time for sewing the lion on. After discussing with Edmund, they agreed that it would look best in gold. Scarlet background plus a golden roaring lion in the middle…picturing this in her own head, Lindsey smirked. Time to make the dreaming come true. Cautiously she sketched the fur, the eyes, the mouth and the paw in the piece of white fabric in the middle of bright red threads she had just sewed on. It would look great. Definitely.

“Don’t you like it, Napp?” she smiled softly, eyes landed on her cat Napoleon who was busy playing with her roll of threads besides her. Upon hearing her words, the bengal turned and meowed, then almost immediately put its attention back to the golden threads. Lindsey sighed a bit, and gently pulled the threads away from her cat. “Leave it there, Napoleon! I should be using it soon — nope, now.” and she grabbed the roll of golden threads while Napoleon groaned unhappily.

Following the lines drawn by pencil just now, Lindsey quickly started sewing again. Needle in, needle out, needle up, needle down…soon, an outline of a lion appeared. Its eyes were glittering. Its mouth were open and seemed roaring. Its paw was ready for clawing the evil forces. Although it was said that the lion was a gold one, Lindsey did prepare different color of threads to make the lion more identifiable from the background. For example, the dark brown threads were used for its eyes. And pink ones were used for its tongue. However, all in all, the lion was gorgeous — and very satisfying.

She leaned closer to the bag she had just finished. It was nice, wasn’t it? Sincerely Lindsey hoped the student who was going to receive it could like it. She couldn’t help but picturing how they took the bag with them when they headed for the library or the next classroom. The cloth bag would be useful and environmentally friendly, as her old muggle teachers said. Most importantly, it would be dazzling!

“See, Napp, I’ve finished!” merrily she called out to the bengal who was lazily looking at the books right now after his toy was taken away by his owner. “Come on, let’s drop this to Miss Finley.”

Standing up, she smiled. Maybe her life would be rather miserable from now on, but it couldn’t stop her from enjoying the simple pleasures in life — such as, being a secret Santa. Lindsey smirked when thinking herself dressing in the Santa custom and a long white messy beard — Santa Lindsey, how interesting! Suddenly she remembered something. She should write a loving note to her partner. “Wait a second, Napp. We should write something before leaving.” and then she sat down again and picked up a quill.

[font=Times New Romans]“Dear friend,

Hello, It’s Lindsey your secret Santa speaking! Sincerely I wish you a merry Christmas — and a happy New Year, I think! Hopefully you would like my little Christmas gift for you. I can’t wait to see you using it to hold some of your schooling items in the hallways!

Before finishing this note, again, I wish you would be happy and healthy for the upcoming year. All I want you to remember is to enjoy the simple pleasures in life. That helps a lot when you are feeling down, I promise!

Love,
Your Secret Santa partner”[/font]

“Everything should be done now.” Lindsey muttered to herself, and then slowly put her quill down. Slipping the parchment into the bag, she stood up, and headed for the entrance.

WC: 1314/1000 | Errand Completed!