Home for the Holidays Solo Part two

It was all so familiar: the crackling fire in the hearth, the smell of freshly baked bread, the clatter of self-washing dishes. Even Nox—curled up in Ada’s favorite armchair by the fire—was familiar, happily asleep after stuffing himself with tuna. His paws twitched as if the fish had come alive again in his dreams and he were trying to catch and devour them all over.
It was Christmas Eve, and to Ada that could mean only one thing: potatoes. It was an odd Christmas tradition that ran in the family. They had potato everything. Ellenora Hawkins loved to cook, and she did most of it without magic. As she liked to say, “Runes ruin the flavor.”
Snow lay thick outside, large flakes drifting slowly down from heavy gray clouds that covered the sky completely. Ada sat on the porch, wrapped in more layers than she could count, holding a steaming cup of tea. From afar, it probably looked like a pile of blankets gently rocking in a chair in the middle of nowhere.
The door opened. A redhead poked her head out.
“Ada, sweetheart, you’d better come inside or you’ll catch a cold for Christmas!” Ellenora said, helping her gather the blankets.
Nox opened one large green eye as they entered, then promptly closed it again.
“You’d better be off to bed now,” Ellenora added. “The sooner you sleep, the sooner it’ll be Christmas.”
“G’night, Mum,” Ada said, hugging her mother.
“Good night, Ada. Sweet dreams.”
The last stair creaked as Ada climbed to the top floor. Nox followed her, his fluffy brown tail held high, despise it being no longer than a rabbits. She opened her bedroom door; everything was just as she’d left it. A twin bed sat tucked into one corner, beside a small table holding a vase of dried roses and a stack of books—every one she hadn’t taken to Hogwarts.
And then she noticed something new.
A small parcel sat neatly on top of the books.
She picked it up curiously. It was wrapped in pale blue paper that felt soft as cloth, tied with a scarlet bow and a sprig of holly. A card was attached.



The wind howled outside, but Ada’s attention was fixed on the package.
“Should I open it?” she asked Nox.
Even though he couldn’t talk—and probably didn’t understand—his opinion meant a great deal to her. He lifted his head from his paws and gave what some people might interpret as a nod.
Ada, being one of those people, took it as a yes.
The paper came away easily as she untied the bow and lifted the small lid. Inside lay what first looked like a carved wooden stick. Then she took a closer look.
It wasn’t a stick.
It was a knife.
The wooden handle was beautifully carved with intricate floral designs. Beneath it lay another note.

This is a locksmith’s knife. It can pick any lock.
I hope it will open some doors for you. Use it well.

That night, with Nox asleep on her pillow, Ada dreamed. She dreamed of who might have sent the knife—and what she might use it for. Would her parents approve? Would she even tell them?

Ada sat bolt upright the next morning.
“It’s Christmas, Nox!” she said, hugging her Siamese tightly.
She threw back the covers, dressed as fast as she could, and raced downstairs,taking them two steps at a time.
“Merry Christmas!” Matthew and Ellenora said together.
The room was nearly unrecognizable. Stockings bulged from the fireplace mantel, and a towering Christmas tree glittered with tinsel and multicolored ornaments. Presents were piled beneath it.
Nox appeared in the stairwell, having taken his time like a dignified cat should. He hopped onto the couch and observed everything like a film unfolding before him.
“Presents or breakfast first?” Matthew asked playfully, already knowing the answer.
“Presents!” Ada replied, grinning.
She settled in front of the tree, her parents on either side.
“Stockings first?” Ellenora asked, handing them out.
Ada reached into hers and pulled out roasted chestnuts, a box of chocolates, and then a much smaller box wrapped in plain red paper with a green bow.
Inside was a delicate bracelet made of what looked like glass.
“It enhances your natural abilities while you’re wearing it,” Ellenora explained.
“Oh, Mum, it’s wonderful—you shouldn’t have!” Ada said, slipping it on.
A calm surge of energy rushed through her, cool and bright, like blue fire.
After stockings came the real presents.
Ada reached for a rectangular package that looked suspiciously like a flute case. It was.
Inside lay a beautiful wooden flute, smooth and perfectly carved.

Yours truly,
Dad

“Dad—how? It’s beautiful!”
“Let’s hear it!” Ellenora said eagerly.
Ada assembled the flute carefully, almost reverently, and played the opening notes of The Swallowtail Jig. The melody filled the room like the rays of the rising sun were doing now.
“And now,” Ada said, standing, “I’ve got something for you.”
She handed out three parcels, nerves fluttering. Sweaters. She’d made them herself—embroidered late at night at Hogwarts.
Mum's was maroon, stitched with the words:
The law? Laws change, depending on who's making them, but justice is justice.
Her Dad's was navy blue:
'There was never a better time to spring a dad joke.' It read.
“Ada…” Ellenora said softly.
“Did you make these?” Matthew asked.
Ada nodded.
Nox meowed loudly from behind his own box. His was olive green, matching his eyes, embroidered with:
Got a problem with that?
“Ooooh, it’s purrfect,” Ellenora laughed as Ada wrangled Nox into it.
Finally, Ellenora handed Ada one last present, wrapped in brown paper and tied with red string.



Inside lay a paintbrush. Its wooden handle was smooth, the goat-hair bristles soft and humming faintly with magic.
“It helps you put your thoughts onto paper,” Ellenora said, “and understand other people’s art.”
Ada could almost see colors bursting from its tip.
“How about breakfast?” Matthew asked, heading toward the kitchen.
“Yes,” Ellenora agreed.
“Definitely,” Ada added, her stomach growling.
Christmas had truly begun.