Emmeline Vance, who had been listening quietly to everyone's theories, spoke up.

"Professor Dumbledore, don’t you think we’re stretched a bit thin? The Ministry of Magic won’t have many people available at that time either."

Dumbledore’s gaze shifted to Gideon Prewett, as if he had just settled on a plan.

"In that case, I’ll convince the Longbottoms to spend Christmas with the Potters. I’ll also speak to Marlene; perhaps she and her family could join everyone at the Burrow."

Gideon nodded with a warm smile. "I’m sure Molly would welcome them with open arms."

Moody grinned, tapping his wand on his hand. "Well, that leaves only two key places to guard. We can even set up a few ambush points in advance. They’d better show up, or I’ll be blowing cold air all night for nothing."

"Agreed," Edgar Bones added. "But let’s not tell them why we’re setting this up. We might catch some Death Eaters by surprise or even root out the traitor."

Seeing the general approval of his plan, Dumbledore nodded. "Then it’s settled. Moody, Emmeline, I’ll need you to look after the Potters and Longbottoms. Edgar, help guard the Slytherins. I’ll be ready to step in if Voldemort himself makes an appearance."

Everyone agreed, and one by one, they left, leaving Dumbledore deep in thought. As he stared into the flickering fire, he murmured to himself, 'Tom, would you really harm a newborn child? How far you’ve fallen into darkness…' He frowned, his mind on the prophecy. 'Potter or Longbottom? And Snape… you’d better not fail me.'

Meanwhile, back at Sirius’s place, Sirius dropped onto the sofa with a heavy sigh, worry creasing his brow as he tapped his foot anxiously, clearly still preoccupied with thoughts of the Death Eaters.

Alex, however, wasn’t overly worried. He trusted Dumbledore’s precautions and didn’t believe anything serious would happen if they were on high alert.

"Sirius, I want to head out," Alex said suddenly.

Sirius snapped out of his thoughts, looking startled. "Out? It’s already late! What if you run into trouble?"

Alex rolled his eyes. Sirius was always on edge lately. "Relax, Sirius. I just need to pick up some Christmas gifts. Besides, if the Death Eaters are planning something for Christmas, we’re safe until then."

Sirius frowned, still hesitant. "Christmas presents? You sound like a kid. If Dumbledore decides to cancel the gathering, all of this might be for nothing."

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"Maybe, but if the Death Eaters know we're prepared, they might call off the attack altogether. I’m just going to the Muggle shopping district anyway, not Diagon Alley. It'll be fine."

Seeing Alex's determination, Sirius sighed, finally relenting. "Fine, but I’m coming with you. Don’t even think about running off alone."

Despite his protests, Alex couldn’t shake Sirius. Together, they headed to London’s Muggle shopping areas, where Alex could shop in peace.

First, they stopped at the market. Alex wanted to pick up some condiments. Ever since Hagrid discovered his stash of spices, he had nearly wiped out his supply. He also bought a big copper hot pot, the kind used for traditional mutton stews. It would be perfect for a cozy winter meal with friends.

Next, they wandered through the nearby shopping mall. Alex chose a lovely music box that played a soothing lullaby for little Harry, along with several children’s storybooks. For Professor McGonagall, he selected a finely crafted brooch carved with a lion, and for Professor Flitwick, he found a detailed mechanical clock he knew the Charms professor would appreciate. For Slughorn, Alex picked out an aged bottle of whiskey, knowing his fondness for fine drinks.

For Hagrid, he found a large copper mug engraved with mythical creatures—a bit decorative, but he was sure Hagrid would use it every day. And for his friends Charles and Vivian, he bought each of them a new set of Poker cards. According to Vivian, the Slytherins and Gryffindors had all but worn out the old set with their constant games.

When it came to Sirius, Alex decided on something unique: a gramophone and a stack of vinyl records. He could already picture Sirius listening to music and unwinding, and thought it would suit his godfather's often restless spirit.

Alex also bought a large supply of greeting cards, wrapping paper, and boxes, ready to pack everything up later. Finally, he bought himself a new set of formal wear for the occasion.

With all the shopping bags in hand, Sirius grumbled, hauling a large cardboard box as they left the mall. "Next time, remind me not to come along," he muttered, but Alex just grinned.

Over the next few days, Alex stayed at Sirius’s house. Sirius was either out on Order business, sprawled out on the sofa, or fiddling with the gramophone like a big kid. During one quiet evening, Alex asked him about the mysterious way wizards communicated through fireplaces.

Sirius explained that, similar to Floo powder, the Floo network linked fireplaces, allowing them to communicate. His fireplace was specially modified by the Order to allow for private communication. They couldn’t travel directly with Floo powder, but it enabled them to stay connected safely.

Alex listened, fascinated by the concept. He was already thinking of how he could use this knowledge in the future.

Seeing Alex’s interest in magical communication, Sirius gifted him a copy of Contact Rune Application for Christmas. With the establishment of the Floo network, the book held all sorts of techniques that fascinated Alex.

While flipping through one of Sirius’s old photo albums, Alex paused. "Is this… Snape?" He pointed to a picture of a young Severus Snape in a group photo, clearly from a school event.

"Yep, that’s him," Sirius said, leaning over. "This was taken at one of Professor Slughorn's Slug Club gatherings. You’ll want to remember these faces: that’s Avery, this one here is Dolohov, and of course, that’s Snape. Keep an eye out for them; you might cross paths one day."

Alex paid particular attention to Snape’s image. He knew Snape had a potion book signed The Half-Blood Prince, and based on the complex spells and potion tips scrawled throughout, he was confident it was Snape’s handwriting. The young Snape in the picture had slightly longer, dark hair and a somber, almost mysterious expression.