A/N: Thanks to one reader for the review and another for a follow and a favourite.

Late 1929

She dove to the ground, just about dodging the spell as it flew past her ear.

"Come on, Corvus!" she called as she rose to her feet, privately mourning the fact that her dress had mud on it now. She needed an outdoor training dress. "You're not even trying!"

Corvus tightened his grip on the wand Grindelwald had given him, readjusting his aim to her new position. "Stupefy!"

"Protego!" she shouted, turning away as she expected the spell to fail. To her pleasant surprise, Corvus' charm bounced off the Shield in front on her. She nodded at him, silently giving him the go-ahead to throw another one at her.

"Locomotor Mortis!" he yelled, catching her off guard. She managed to block it in due time but lost her footing for a moment, falling victim to his next spell.

She burst into laughter, keeling over and clutching her sides. "Corvus!" she shrieked, the tickling sensation getting the best of her. "Re—really? The Tic—tickling Charm?" she asked between laughs.

"Finite Incantatem," Corvus said, grinning as he walked towards her in the middle of the manor's vast grounds. "I had to use it on somebody. You are my only friend, after all."

Only friend. She knew that Corvus was treated a little differently from the rest of Grindelwald's inner circle but she didn't realise he was so isolated from them. It did make sense, though. The rest of the acolytes lived with Grindelwald in his castle and presumably went to every one of his rallies and other events but Corvus was only ever invited to Christmas Dinner. If it weren't for Corvus having been invited to last year's Christmas Dinner, she would've thought Grindelwald was purposely keeping him away from her on their first proper Christmas together.

"Wish I could say the same about you," she quipped, throwing a random jinx at him. He effortlessly blocked it, reminding her that he was a much more powerful duellist than she was. She knew that he always went easy on her so as not to hurt her but he was doing more harm than good; she likely wouldn't last five minutes against an actual enemy.

But then, who was her enemy? Grindelwald's side saw her as an acolyte's guest, perhaps even a spy, whereas Dumbledore's side probably saw her as a defector. Either side could attack her in a battle. Seeing as Corvus still believed in Grindelwald's cause and was unlikely to turn against him despite all of her efforts to convince him otherwise, she knew that the right thing to do would be to go back to Newt, to Dumbledore, and reaffirm her loyalty to the correct side. However, looking at Corvus now as he circled her and teased her about how many Christmas presents she was going to get, she didn't have the strength to leave him. She had already lost one person she loved to a cruel curse. She couldn't willingly walk away from another.

She grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks, and looked at the multitude of trees that lined the manor grounds. "We need a Christmas tree."

.:. QK .:.

In order to be able to sit close to Corvus, she had instructed Dot to magically shorten the typically long pure-blood-esque dining table and accordingly place the various dishes on the table. She was pleased with the result. This was the first meal she had arranged for Corvus and though she had not participated in any of the actual cooking, she was anxious about what he would think of it, especially since it was their first Christmas meal together. As Corvus took his seat and surveyed the dishes in front of him, she dismissed Dot and carefully uncorked the bottle of wine in the centre of the table.

"Champagne?" she asked, happily noting that he had bought the drink she asked for.

He looked up at her, his eyes bright. "Oui, s'il vous plaît." She smiled at his response, pouring him a glass and then doing the same for herself. "Is that correct?"

"I'd say te instead of vous," she answered, taking her seat opposite him. She had learnt French mostly from her mother but had picked the accent up listening to actual French people speaking. "Vous is formal, remember?"

"I don't sound French at all, do I?" he questioned, sipping his wine. "I've got to start interacting with the Ministry officials soon."

"Everyone in France knows you were raised in the US, Corvus," she replied, realising that Grindelwald was using Corvus to infiltrate the Ministry. She wondered why he couldn't send one of his other acolytes, seeing as how easily they broke into the Ministry the last time to steal the Lestrange family records. "Is this the grand task you've been training for?"

He gave her a blank look. She muttered an apology as a caviar on blini appeared on her plate. She took a quick look at all of the food, wondering if she had gone over the top; the table was outfitted with plates of caviar or foie gras on toast, wine poached oysters and sauteed scallops, and those were only the starters. A lobster dish was the main meal and there was still the Yule log Dot was supposed to bring in later.

"It isn't," Corvus suddenly said, and it took her a moment to realise he was responding to her question. "It's not that task. I don't think I'm ready yet."

She nodded, taking a bite out of her caviar toast. "Will you ever tell me what it is?"

Corvus speared the oyster on his plate with a fork, an expression she knew all too well appearing on his face. It worried her. It was the same expression he'd donned before ditching her for Grindelwald, the same look he sometimes wore before leaving the house to go and attend to Grindelwald. He ate the oyster as a scallop appeared on each of their plates. "You'll find out soon enough," he finally replied, sticking his fork into his scallop. His answer was ominous, at least to her ears.

"Corvus..." she trailed off, chewing on her scallop as she carefully calculated her next words. He stared at her, picking his wine glass up and bringing it to his lips. "I know I don't really say this very often... not at all, really, but you know I care about you, don't you? I came here for you. I... I stay here for you... I—" She stopped herself, biting her lip. There were some things people like her really not ought to say, no matter how much they wanted to. "Je t'aime tellement," she confessed quietly, settling for expressing herself in French rather than not at all.

Averting her gaze to the oyster on her plate, she heard him put his glass down, and the air between them became so thick that one could slice through it with a knife. This wasn't the first time this heavy sort of tension filled the atmosphere of Lestrange Manor, of course, but this time she felt she had gone a bit too far with her last few words. She briefly panicked. What if he understood them?

"I know. I feel the same way." She didn't dare look up, just about preventing herself from choking on the oyster she'd just swallowed. "I mean—I meant what I said out there. You're my only friend."

Friend. She managed a smile, relieved, and made eye contact with him. "You understand that I want you safe, then? I don't care what Grindelwald wants you to do, I just want you to come back home safe and sound."

The words shocked her as they left her mouth but she let them hang in the air, unable to take them back. She didn't care what Grindelwald wanted him to do? The very thought mortified her. Grindelwald was evil—his task for Corvus was bound to be evil—but she suddenly found herself thinking she'd rather see someone die if it meant Corvus came back to her alive at the end of the day.

Corvus cleared his throat. She picked up her knife, grateful for the portion of lobster thermidor that had appeared on her plate and replaced the shells from her starters.

"I'm glad that you consider this place home now," Corvus said lightly, digging into his lobster. "Your comfort and happiness are important to me."

She nodded, only just having realised that she had indeed referred to Lestrange Manor as her home. Whether it was because of the grounds, the house, the lifestyle, or the man in front of her, this place really did feel like home. She had no idea when this shift had happened but it was true.

They ate in silence for the next few minutes as he kept his eyes downcast whereas she looked out of the windows and took in the starry night sky. She felt a pang of guilt, casting a quick glance at Corvus; she had insisted they had this meal after midnight to keep with French tradition. She wasn't even sure if Le Réveillon de Noël was a wizarding tradition since she had only ever attended a Non-Magique one back at the non-wizarding circus she used to work in. She just hoped Corvus wouldn't end up falling asleep during important Christmas events at Grindelwald's headquarters and thus draw the Dark wizard's ire.

Soon, the two of them were done with the main course and Dot entered the dining room to bring in the Yule log and Banish the empty starter and mains plates away to the kitchen. As she watched the house-elf go about her work, a thought occurred to her. She felt a stab of shame for not having thought of it before.

"Dot," she called, stopping the house-elf from Apparating away.

The house-elf turned to face her. "Oui, Madame?"

She exchanged a shy look with Corvus at being addressed as 'Madame' before saying, "Thank you for the meal. It was delicious." She never spoke French with Dot in front of Corvus so as not to alienate him. Corvus nodded in agreement when Dot looked his way. "I think it's time you received your long overdue Christmas present," she continued, removing one of the long fingerless gloves she'd worn to match her burgundy velvet evening dress. She held it out to the house-elf who remained in her spot, her hands folded demurely before her as she looked at her master. She, too, looked at Corvus in confusion. "What's wrong?"

"Monsieur Lestrange freed Dot last Christmas," the house elf finally spoke meekly.

"Vraiment?" she questioned, subconsciously slipping into the native language due to the surprise of it all. "But you're still here?"

"Dot likes it here, Madame. Dot has served this family since before Monsieur Lestrange's father was born."

"I see," she said, staring at Corvus, awestruck, as she put her glove back on. "You may go now but I will be talking to you later. The least I can do is get some proper clothes made for you."

"But, Mad—"

"No arguments, Dot."

She heard the telltale pop of a house-elf Apparating, her gaze still fixed upon Corvus. She felt stupidly happy just watching him eat his serving of bûche de Noël, comfortable in the knowledge that he didn't approve of slavery after all. It gave her a glimmer of hope, proof that he did indeed have some sort of ethical/moral code. She took small bites out of her own portion of the Yule log, wondering if there was still a possibility of turning him against Grindelwald.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he implored, and she blushed at being caught staring at him.

"No reason," she lied, putting her dessert spoon down. She was full.

"Merci d'avoir organisé le repas. This is the best Christmas feast I've ever had," he stated, standing up and striding over to her side of the table.

She quickly followed suit, rising to her feet as she considered if he was flattering her or being truthful. "Je t'en prie."

"I know how you like sleeping in"—she smiled at that—"so in case I don't see you until after I return from Austria, Joyeux Noël." He kissed her cheek very briefly, a rare gesture despite how affectionate the two of them generally were with each other, and pulled back to look at her with strangely sparkling eyes.

"Joyeux Noël," she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper, feeling unusually emotional. He held her gaze a little longer than necessary before wishing her goodnight and leaving the room.

Whipping out her wand and Banishing the empty plates and leftover Yule log to the kitchen sink and fridge, respectively, she sauntered over to one of the many large windows and peered out at the starlit sky. She focused in on the brightest star, unwisely thinking of Corvus and their life together, until the viper in her roiled, reminding her of what she was and what could never be.