To the uninitiated, The Shortcake Lair was just another crisp cypress tree among many, in the dense grove of the Greengrass estate. However, the uninitiated comprised of everyone except for the Greengrass sisters and their late father, who after completing an exhausting venture for the Department Of International Magical Cooperation, constructed the little sanctuary.

An ample smile spread on Daphne's face, as she recalled the summer of her ninth year. Astoria and herself leisurely spread on floating carpets, audience to their father's captivating wandwork. She was nearly a foot taller than Astoria, back then.

"And what should we put here?" The luminescent green orb that followed dad's wand was beneath the apron of a window. The window sometimes showed a desert, before changing into a forest, a small town, or even a waterfall.

"A fireplace!" Daphne said.

"A rainbow!" Astoria added.

"A thoughtful idea, Daph. A rainbow? How ambitious, Tory. Which one shall it be?"

"Well, I already picked the tea set, so Tory gets this one." A faint sense of regret tinged Daphne's voice.

"Oh! How about a rainbow fireplace!" Astoria exclaimed, her slight head bobbing in elation.

"You girls… a match made in hell. A rainbow fireplace it is!"

A twinge of heat throbbed in her chest as Daphne recalled her father. A voice in her mind that sounded like Draco Malfoy told her to occlude. Five deep exhalations later, Daphne Greengrass pointed her wand at the inconspicuous tree, allowing her hands to instinctively produce the wand motions to unlock her childhood sanctuary.

As a phantom bell made a chiming sound, several small, intertwined branches released one another, forming a rectangular opening in the tree. A series of vines, poorly fashioned in the shape of a ladder, uncoiled to the ground.

Unsure of who should be the first to rekindle the torch of nostalgia, the two Greengrass sisters stood in silence, facing the other.

"Fine, Daph." Astoria scaled the vine. Viscous sap stained her black, silk wrap-dress, as the rungs of the vine-ladder wiped against her. Daphne remembered the ladder as being dry; perhaps this was the effect of leaving it unattended for a long time?

As soon as her sister entered the tree, Daphne followed. Gripping the vine, a surge of adrenaline heaved in Daphne's chest. Not only was it wet, but it was warm, and even throbbing, as though blood was pumping through it. Her memory wasn't fantastic, but Daphne clearly recalled the cool and dry consistency of the vine.

"Daph? Coming?" Astoria's small voice called. Although her sister was no more than a few feet above her, it sounded as though she were far, far away. Suddenly driven to catch up to her little sibling, Daphne hurriedly climbed the warm, pulsating ladder.

Entering, the reminiscent warmth in Daphne's heart amplified. Although the chamber was smaller than she remembered, everything was still there. The charmed scent of honey, dew, and roasted almonds calmed her. Small, fluorescent schools of painted fish swam through the walls of pecan-brown varnish.

Dark blue sand engulfed her feet, removing her espadrilles. She knew they were ejected outside, to sit next to the lowest rung of the vine-ladder. There were four curtainless bow windows, each charmed to display a different view. It was late at night in the ocean vista, but only sunset in the desert one. A ludicrously large tea set sat on a child-sized, star-shaped table, which had been charmed into a vibrant, cherry red.

The kaleidoscopic fireplace was still on, and even after all those tireless nights of gossip, gobstones, and fruit-flavoured pepper-up potions, Daphne found herself bewitched by its chromatic trance. The warm apricot flame became a dull plum one, before burgeoning into a rich, sapphiric blue.

"Daph? Tory! Oh my, look at you girls! How grown up you are!"

Dad? Daphne's gut wrenched. Was she dreaming, or was she going mad? She pinched herself, but found that she was already awake. She dared not look away from the protean fireplace.

"Ooh, Daph! You need to see this, come-come!" Astoria's excited voice sounded warped.

"There we are. A biiiiiig hug for my sweet Tory! Daph, won't you join in?" Dad-or-not chanted, in a nauseatingly familiar sing-song tone.

Bile rising in her throat, Daphne realised the craft at work; dark, dark magic was at play. She inhaled deeply.

"Stupefy!" yelled Daphne. She let the reflexes drilled into her by Isidore Mulciber during the Christmas camp of a few months ago take over.

"Daphne! What-"

"Expelliarmus! Incarcerous!" Without hazarding a second glance at her target, Daphne dashed toward her sister, grabbed her arm, ready to apparate-

"Daphne, what the FUCK!?" Astoria's familiar, irate voice bought Daphne's senses back to the forefront.

A large, green teddy bear lay in front of her, bound in vast chains. Its face was contorted as fearfully as a teddy bear's could be.

"What in the name of Salazar fucking Slytherin is this?!"

"A teddy bear? Daphne-"

"I can see that. Why does it sound like dad?"

"Oh my god. Oh-my-god. Dad made the bear! It was when you were over at the Parkinsons' for Christmas! Remember? In third year. We wanted to surprise you! But then d-d-dad got s-sick… a-and…"

"What, you wanted to surprise me now? A week after fucking Voldemort finally died, Tory-"

"No! No! Really, I-I forgot about the damn teddy bear and when I saw it I-I didn't think it was a big deal. I just wanted to s-show you."

"But it's not dad. It's not…"

"No, it's not."

Astoria pulled Daphne into a tight, tight hug, as though they were little girls again, warming at the fireside on Christmas eve.

Daphne noticed just how unalike the tidy, plaited ponytail that belonged to her little sister was from the charm-curled, potion-puffed mane that she wore before the war.

"Aww, look how dear you-" Bear-dad resumed.

"SHUT UP!" As she shouted, Daphne unconsciously squeezed her little sister. Astoria let out a whimper.

The bear, to its credit, actually heeded Daphne's command.

"Daph! Chill, it's fine. You're here, with me."

"Get rid of it. Tory. Please."

"Okay."

Astoria released herself from her older sister's snug embrace, and withdrew her wand.

"Bombarda!"

A sharp, crackling sound later, pieces of cotton expelled all over the room; into Daphne's teacups, into Astoria's fireplace, and all about the floor of blue sand. The bear's head, however, managed to divorce from the body in a whole piece.

"You just killed dad!" Daphne squealed.

"You just killed dad?!" Astoria repeated, closely inspecting her older sister's face.

"I-I d-didn't mean it like t-that! Just t-thought you'd Silencio it or s-something. Not blow it up! Sorry-" Daphne's face reddened, like an erratically brewed boil cure.

"It's fine. Like you said, it's not dad. Just a faint echo of him. Best that it's gone, really." With a switch of her wand, Astoria vanished much of cottony debris on the ground.

"What a mess." Daphne murmured. Astoria nodded in agreement.

"Accio teddy's head." The great cotton-leaking, decapitated green head flew into Astoria's hand. She paced in front of the fireplace, and set the head on the floor.

"Engorgio." The decapitated head became a vast cushion, as Astoria fell into it.

"Daph? Join me?"

"It-it's a head…"

"Well spotted. Now come."

Daphne indulged the request. The decapitated head was surprisingly comfortable to rest on.

"You just killed dad." Astoria chortled. Daphne gave her an incredulous look, before succumbing to laughter herself.

The fireplace flickered from a bitter, decaying-teeth-like yellow to a mellow teal.