Sera awoke to the soft morning light filtering through her curtains, casting warm golden hues across her small, cluttered room. For a moment, she simply lay there, reveling in the feeling of Theo beside her. His presence was steady, comforting, and she couldn't help but trace the line of his jaw with her eyes, committing the rare softness of his expression to memory.
Theo stirred and opened his eyes, a sleepy smile tugging at his lips. "Morning," he murmured.
"Morning," she replied, her voice steady, belying the whirlwind inside her. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stretched, already feeling the familiar tension seep back into her muscles.
"Let me make tea," Theo offered. Sera admired his retreating back, his wand appearing in his hand with a casual flick. Before she could protest, the kettle in the kitchen whistled, and the teacups on her shelf hovered, filling themselves with steaming liquid.
Sera paused, caught off guard by the simple, effortless display of magic in her small, mundane flat. It felt strangely intimate, seeing Theo fit so seamlessly into her space, the steam from the tea curling in lazy spirals between them. She had spent so long keeping this world of hers separate, the boundaries drawn like defensive lines. But here he was, bridging those worlds with a flick of his wand, and it stirred something warm and hopeful inside her.
A smile broke across her face, unguarded and genuine. "I could get used to that," she said lightly, but there was no denying the happiness that bubbled beneath her words.
Theo returned her smile, his eyes softening as he set the wand aside. "Well," he replied, his voice teasing yet gentle, "it's the least I can do, considering you graciously offered me your bed. I'll admit, I've had worse nights."
Sera let out a laugh, a real one that felt like sunlight breaking through clouds. She grabbed her cup, the warmth soaking into her hands, and took a slow sip. The tea was perfect, and she marveled at how something so small—a perfectly brewed cup of tea, the quiet company of someone she was beginning to trust—could feel so monumental.
She leaned back against the kitchen counter, watching Theo as he moved around her flat. It was a surreal scene: the pureblood heir in her very Muggle surroundings, the old television and stacks of books creating a jarring yet somehow harmonious backdrop. Yet he didn't seem uncomfortable. If anything, he looked oddly at peace.
Theo's expression softened, and he stepped closer, but before either could say more, a soft chime echoed through the room. The message was clear: they were needed at the Ministry.
Arriving at the Ministry of Magic was always a strange experience for Sera. The enchanted ceiling mirrored a sky that was too blue, too perfect, and the golden fireplaces spit out witches and wizards with an efficiency that seemed almost inhuman. Theo walked beside her, and though they kept a professional distance, she felt the comfort of his presence.
The moment they stepped into the Auror's office, they were immediately pulled into a meeting with none other than Harry Potter himself. The Head Auror was taller than she remembered, his emerald eyes serious and piercing, though a touch of weariness softened them. Sera straightened, feeling the weight of a world that often ignored her, one that never truly believed she belonged.
Harry's voice was grave. "I've read the reports you both put together and spoken with Malfoy," he said, glancing between them. "If what you're saying is true, this isn't just about scattered incidents. This could be the beginning of something much darker."
Sera nodded, her back stiff, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "We think these attacks are a recruitment strategy," she said. "The first targets will be Squibs, but if they gain momentum, they'll move on to Muggle-born witches and wizards. We need to act before it's too late."
Harry's jaw tightened, and he shared a long, meaningful look with Theo. "I'll increase Auror presence in the vulnerable areas," he promised. "And we'll make sure the registered Squibs are warned. But we'll need more—"
"I know," Sera interrupted, her voice firmer than she felt. "Just… make sure they know they're not alone. That someone cares."
For a moment, the room was silent, and Harry studied her, as if seeing the determination etched in her features. "We will," he said quietly.
As Sera and Theo prepared to leave the Auror's office, Harry's voice called out, halting her in her tracks. "Sera, would you mind staying back for a moment? I need to speak with you privately."
She exchanged a brief, questioning glance with Theo. His eyes flickered with concern, but she offered him a reassuring nod. "I'll catch up with you," she said. Theo hesitated, but eventually turned and left, leaving her alone with Harry Potter.
The silence stretched for a moment as Harry regarded her with a thoughtful expression. "Sera," he began gently, but his voice held the kind of weight that made her stomach knot. "I know. About you being a Squib."
Her heart dropped. She'd spent years perfecting her defenses, steeling herself against the inevitable hurt that came from being exposed as less-than in the magical world. She straightened her spine, her voice even. "How long have you known?"
Harry's eyes softened. "Long enough," he admitted. "I didn't say anything before because I respect your privacy. But given what we're facing… it's important. Does Nott know?"
Sera clenched her hands into fists at her sides, her nails pressing against her palms. She swallowed, her voice a fragile whisper against the heavy reality of her secret. "No," she admitted. "He doesn't know."
Harry's expression remained understanding, though there was a hint of concern shadowing his features. "Sera," he said gently, "you're putting yourself in a lot of danger. Especially with what we're uncovering now. Theo deserves to know, and more importantly, you deserve to be honest with him. Carrying this secret won't protect you."
She felt her resolve waver, the familiar armor she wore cracking under the pressure of his words. It was exhausting, always being strong, always hiding. She exhaled slowly, trying to steady herself. "I know," she replied, her voice tight with vulnerability. "I'll tell him. When the time is right."
Harry gave her a small, supportive nod. "I trust you to make that call. Just promise me you'll be careful."
Sera's eyes met his, gratitude mixing with her lingering fear. "I promise," she said, though the weight of that promise pressed heavily against her chest. She turned to leave, the echoes of Harry's words trailing after her, intertwining with the growing ache of keeping her truth hidden from the one person who had begun to mean everything.