Chapter 283: Merry Christmas [bonus]
The day before holiday break, and Hogwarts was soaking in a lazy, restless energy from top to bottom.
When the final bell rang, the whole castle flipped on like a switch.
Young witches and wizards poured out of classrooms, robes sweeping between chair legs, stepping on each other's shoes without caring, jamming up in doorways.
The corridors were louder than the classrooms had been.
Kids clutching books and rolls of parchment shouted and ran, desperate to get back to their dormitories, stuff their trunks, and then scatter in every direction with nothing but freedom ahead of them.
Regulus walked toward the dungeons at his own pace. No rush, nothing to pack.
The young heir of the House of Black didn't need to fold robes and cram them into a trunk like everyone else.
The robe on his back was self-cleaning, dust-repelling.
His shoes were Hungarian Horntail hatchling hide, lined with cashmere, the soles layered with a charm built specifically for the Scottish Highlands' autumn and winter.