A Feathery Tale
Chapter 30 : Paint feather in nest.
It was with regret that Fleur had missed the first week of classes at Beauxbâtons. Her duties as the future matriarch of the Delacour flock had kept her busy at the start of September. There had been plenty of organisation to manage, especially with the flock buzzing with excitement over the upcoming hatching of Cacendra and Lucie Delnë's chicks in a few months. The Oguls had also had their young ones, and they required attention. On top of that, Fleur had helped Apolline negotiate the export of tapestries and fabrics with the representatives from the Svorak Hanse... In short, she had missed the start of term, missed reconnecting with her friends from other flocks, and most importantly, missed the arrival of little Myosotis at school.
That, in fact, was one of her greatest worries—how had the little wildling adapted to life in the dovecote? Had she made friends? Had she gotten into any mischief? Now that Fleur thought about it, of course, she must have gotten into trouble… But more than anything, she just wanted to see her again. She missed this chaotic little ball of feathers almost as much as she missed her little sister after a few months at school.
Following Francine's directions, she flew to the top of the tower with a few strong wingbeats through the wide central shaft, greeting a few friends as she passed. A few quick flutters, a soft landing, and there she was, standing before the thick green curtain that covered the oval-shaped door to Myo's room. It was still early evening, the sun was hanging above the hills, and dinner had only finished just over an hour ago. The fact that the curtain was closed struck her as odd for a moment, but then she remembered that Myo probably wanted some privacy, especially now when she was supposed to be getting used to her aura, which was hypersensitive after years of isolation and now exposed to all their sisters' ones.
She easily found the small polished tin bell above the door and rang it, expecting to hear Myo's usual joyful chirping whenever she saw her again after a few days apart. A minute passed, then another, with no response. The green curtain remained still in front of her. Had Myo already gone to bed? It was still quite early… Worried, Fleur pushed the curtain aside and peered into the room. It felt strangely empty. Myo's belongings were still there, of course, and a few black feathers with blue-tinged highlights scattered across the floor revealed her recent presence, as did the pile of ashes in the fire pit that had been used not long ago.
The fact was, in her excitement to join Beauxbâtons, Myo had given Fleur a long list of things she wanted to bring, including that huge plush toy shaped like that strange legendary Scottish monster. But in the room, Fleur couldn't see half of the items Myo had mentioned... even the shelves, usually crammed with little treasures Myo had gathered, looked oddly bare.
Growing more concerned, she let the curtain fall back into place and jumped into the central shaft of the tower, gliding down in slow circles to one of the lower floors where she knew she'd find one of the common rooms, which also doubled as a library. At this time, she was almost certain to find someone there.
As expected, the sixth-floor common room was packed. Some sofas meant for three people were hosting five or six, the rugs on the floor were occupied, and even the wooden beams above were hosting several groups. Despite the crowd, the room was surprisingly quiet, with everyone speaking in hushed tones, creating a soft hum of voices, the rustle of wings, fabric, and feathers.
It was quite warm, and the smell of candles and old books mingled with that of plumage—not to mention the calm, playful, almost mischievous auras all around, which intertwined with Fleur's own. She felt her mind clear as her aura blended with the ambient magic, and she let out a soft sigh of relief.
She sensed their auras before she saw the group she had entrusted with keeping an eye on Myo, to make sure she wasn't overwhelmed by the attention of over two hundred curious and fascinated Veela.
Aline, Lina, Chloé, Margot, and Éloïse were sitting around a round table between two tall bookshelves. From the stack of books, papers, and inkwells cluttering the table and the studious atmosphere, it was clear they were busy with their homework. But still, there was no sign of Myo.
Fleur approached the table, and as soon as her aura joined theirs, five pairs of eyes turned to her. A chorus of greetings followed, and Fleur took the time to give everyone a kiss on the cheek, not escaping the hugs from Éloïse, Margot, and Chloé.
"It's lovely to see you again, Fleur! We've missed you. Busy with flock matters, I suppose?" Aline asked softly.
"Yes, quite a bit to sort out. Mum needed some help," Fleur sighed, pulling up a chair.
"I heard the Delnë Delacours are expecting chicks soon. Was that what kept you busy?" Chloé asked with a half-smile.
"Not just that, but yes. The whole flock is organising a celebration for the hatching," Fleur smiled.
"Oh, when will it be?" Lina Belleforte asked, her excitement breaking through her usual reserved demeanour.
"We think it will happen in February if everything goes as planned," Fleur replied, unable to hide her own excitement at the thought of welcoming new members to the flock.
"My mum's been brooding my little sister's egg for a year now..." Margot sighed. "I hope you don't have to face a late hatching."
"Not much risk of that. Our healer is confident; the eggs are perfectly healthy." The conversation drifted for a while, touching on the different couples across the flocks expecting eggs or brooding them. Éloïse entertained them with amusing stories of the first flying lessons of the fledglings in her flock. The discussion then moved on to the various classes at the start of the year, and finally to the latest gossip circulating at the school (who would have thought that Madame Simon and Madame Turfin had that kind of relationship…).
Inevitably, Margot steered the conversation towards the acrobatic flight club, boasting about her exploits during the last session and teasing Chloé for not joining the club despite her obvious talent for flying. Chloé calmly replied that transforming every time she wanted to fly was exhausting for her and that she didn't see much point in all those aerial tricks, however impressive they might be.
It was around that point that Fleur managed to slip in the question that had brought her here in the first place. "By the way, Margot, how is Myosotis doing? I heard she joined the flight club too."
"Oh, she's doing marvellously!" Margot said proudly. "She flies as if she were born in the air! She even managed to keep up with the Malbois triplets' aerial ballet."
"I saw her flying the other day when I was bringing Margot her snack, and I must admit, I was impressed by her performance. If she flies like that during the end-of-year show, she's going to dazzle everyone!" Aline added with a gentle smile.
"Hey! We agreed to keep that a secret!" Margot exclaimed, her cheeks flushing.
"What, that I brought you a snack?"
"Don't go spreading it around, oh!"
Ignoring the playful bickering, Fleur asked, "By the way, do you know where Myo is? I haven't seen her since I arrived, and she wasn't in her room..."
At this question, a tense silence fell over the table, and her friends exchanged uneasy glances. "Well... we'd like to know what she's up to as well..." Chloé began, before explaining how one evening they had found Myo's room in disarray, with several items missing. They had initially thought she had been burgled or kidnapped, but Myo had reappeared out of nowhere, refusing to offer any explanation. Since then, it wasn't uncommon for Myo to disappear at night and only return the next morning, or even a few days later, seen only briefly on the school grounds in between.
"Tell me, is Myo having trouble here? Is someone bothering her? I hope you've all made her feel welcome..." Fleur's worry grew, an uneasy feeling settling at the back of her throat.
"Of course not, everyone has been perfectly civil with her. I was even impressed by the effort everyone made not to overwhelm her. But one day, out of the blue, she just started disappearing, and now she only comes back occasionally," Chloé explained, looking both frustrated and worried.
"This can't go on!" Fleur declared with determination. "Myosotis is supposed to be here partly so that her aura can get used to being around other Veela, not sneaking off like this. If she's having problems, we need to talk to Madame Juliette Belleforte, or if she's not comfortable with that yet, to Isabelle, her assigned healer."
"What can we do about it? If she needs solitude, that's her business," Lina said, rolling her eyes.
"What we're going to do," Fleur said firmly, "is follow her tomorrow and find out where she's going. She must be sleeping somewhere, and we need to discover where..." It didn't surprise Fleur much that Myo had ended up doing something like this. Even after becoming familiar with civilisation, the poor girl still had a wild side. The real question was where she was hiding, and why? Fleur could already imagine her in some cold rocky crevice in the nearby mountains, making do with whatever meagre comforts she had, with only her flames to keep her warm and fend off predators on the nights when she felt too vulnerable to stay in the dovecote. The thought gave Fleur a pang in her heart as she began planning their course of action—this had gone on for too long.
…
The next evening, they were finally able to put their plan into action. Myo hadn't returned to the dovecote all day and had only been briefly spotted by Margot on campus, but she hadn't had time to approach her.
Just as Fleur was about to give up, ready to head to bed, she heard movement in Myo's room, behind the curtain next to where she was stationed. Fleur kept her aura as controlled as possible, wrapped around her to ensure her target wouldn't sense her presence. When she saw light filtering from beneath the curtain, she discreetly pulled it aside just enough to peek into the room.
Myo was there, dressed in one of her favourite soft green tunics. She was rummaging through a large chest, bent over so far that only her legs and wings were sticking out, flapping comically in the air. Her phoenix, Eldur, perched on top of a chest of drawers, observed the scene indifferently, more focused on preening his feathers than paying attention to his companion.
Fleur pulled out her wand. Their target was right there, oblivious to being watched. She conjured a small green firefly and sent it flying between the floors to alert her accomplices that the target had been found. Less than a minute later, Aline, Lina, Chloé, Margot, and Éloïse arrived silently. Fleur placed a finger on her lips, then pointed towards the room with her thumb. She cast a Disillusionment Charm on each of them and then on herself, followed by a charm to divert attention. The fresh, almost liquid magic cloaked them all. Soon, outside Myosotis' room, there were six barely perceptible translucent figures.
Fleur peeked into the room again. Myo had pulled out what appeared to be a large blue blanket, which she examined for a moment before hugging it to herself with a satisfied cooing sound. She carefully folded it. There was a brief silent exchange between her and Eldur, at the end of which the phoenix nestled into her collar, with only his head sticking out.
Satisfied, Myo jumped out of the window and flew into the twilight. Without hesitation, Fleur and her group took off in pursuit. All they needed to do was follow Myo and find out where she was hiding.
It wasn't difficult to track her. Myo was not exactly subtle, her lack of control over her aura allowing Fleur to simply follow its trail in the air. It became even easier when Fleur spotted her dark silhouette against the treetops below in the last light of dusk.
Her theory that Myo felt overwhelmed in the tower was gaining credibility. She had probably made herself a shelter elsewhere for nights when returning to the dovecote felt too difficult. It was likely the cold that had driven her to fetch the blanket.
After a few minutes of silent gliding through the shifting air currents of the season, Fleur watched as Myo dove toward a small clearing. She followed her descent and arrived just in time to see Myo slip into a hollow in a massive tree with an impressive circumference and majestic branches. A soft orange light escaped from the hollow, casting moving shadows inside—Myo, likely going about her evening routine.
Fleur landed quietly, soon hearing the soft footsteps of her friends touching down behind her. "Is this it?" she heard Chloé whisper.
"She doesn't seem to be in any danger here..." Éloïse murmured.
"That's not the point. We need to at least make sure everything is fine," Aline whispered back, concern in her voice.
"Shh! I hear something," Fleur said. Indeed, voices were coming from inside the tree. Myo's voice, of course, but there was another one too. "Luna is with her," she added, stunned.
"Luna... Luna... that dreamy-eyed blonde girl she's always hanging out with?" Margot asked.
"Don't tell me…" Lina hissed in a scandalised tone.
"I'm going to check," Fleur said, a knot forming in her stomach. Myo was far too young for this... She took flight and landed discreetly on a thick branch near the entrance to the hollow.
From her perch, she could glimpse inside the tree. It was circular and quite deep, lined with cushions and blankets. Thin, woven branches had been fashioned into makeshift shelves, proudly displaying various shiny objects that Myo must have considered treasures: brightly coloured polished stones, pieces of coloured glass, captured Golden Snitches (since when had Myo started playing Quidditch?), and drawings and paintings hung on the walls. Eldur even had his own nest, made of a hollowed stone lined with ash. A dark metal lantern containing a glowing mass of orange moss cast a warm light over the space.
In the centre of the cushions, wrapped in blankets, Myo and Luna were cuddled together… or rather, Luna was lying on top of Myo, her head resting on Myo's chest, with Myo's wings folded protectively over them both, adding to the blankets. Myo was holding a book in her hands—Around the World in Eighty Days by Jules Verne—and was reading it aloud in a soft voice to Luna. Luna frequently made little comments or asked questions, which Myo answered with an amused look.
Fleur could feel Myo's aura—calm, relaxed, and filled with affection… and something more. Fleur realised now that her fears had been justified. This wasn't just a simple retreat that Myo had made for herself because she felt overwhelmed living in the dovecote. No, this was a nest, a real nest—the kind of nest that a Veela of Myo's age had no reason to even think about building. As adorable as the scene before her was, Fleur knew she had to interrupt it. There was a very serious conversation to be had with Myo, one she had hoped she wouldn't need to have for a few more years, at least.
She glanced down at the base of the tree. This wasn't a conversation Myo would want to have with any unnecessary spectators. Fleur sent a small green spark downwards, and moments later, she heard the soft flapping of wings as her friends dispersed.
Oh, how she wished she wasn't in this situation… She dissolved her Disillusionment and cleared her throat loudly. EEEPPP! echoed through the nest immediately. Myo had jumped to her feet in an instant, positioning herself between Fleur and Luna, blue flames flickering along her feathers, her eyes now glowing a blinding white-blue, replacing their usual green. Luna looked around, confused, as Myo hissed loudly, her feathers puffed up and wings half-spread, trying to appear more intimidating.
"Easy now, easy," Fleur said, raising her hands in a gesture of peace, pushing her aura outwards to project a calming sensation towards Myo, trying to convey that her nest wasn't under threat. This was a delicate situation.
After several long, tense seconds, Myo's feathers slowly settled back down, and her eyes returned to their usual soft green. "Fleur? What are you doing here?" Myo stammered, looking bewildered.
"I need to talk to you. It's very important."
"Yes, I…" Myo glanced nervously at Luna, who smiled and waved at Fleur. "Good evening, Fleur. Would you like to listen to the story too?"
"That's very kind of you to offer, Luna, but no, I just need to borrow Myo for a moment. We need to talk... and by the way, it's unlikely she'll be back tonight. Do you need a lift to get back to your dorm?"
"Oh…" Luna sighed sadly, and Fleur felt a pang of guilt when Myo shot her a withering look. "Eldur will accompany me. It's no trouble," Luna said, standing up, putting on her cloak and pretty decorated hat, and then gracefully climbing down from the tree with surprising agility. She disappeared into the trees moments later, Eldur following closely behind.
Myo pulled out her wand, opened the lantern, and touched the tip of her wand to the glowing moss inside for a few seconds. The light seemed to be absorbed into the pale bone of the wand, leaving them in darkness. She then stepped out of the nest, landing on the branch next to Fleur. With a few swift wand movements and a murmured incantation, the bark of the tree seemed to come alive, shifting and creaking as it stretched and moulded itself to cover the entrance to the nest completely. Fleur was impressed by this display of magic; Pandora must have done an excellent job over the summer to teach Myo such control. She also suspected that the desire to protect her nest had been a strong motivator for Myo to seek out such spells in the Beauxbâtons library.
A moment of silence passed between them, Fleur searching for a subtle way to broach the delicate topic. But her thoughts were interrupted when Myo suddenly hugged her.
"Myo, are you alright?" Fleur asked, running a hand through the young Taïvaalta's hair.
"I missed you."
"I missed you too. You know, everyone at the perch has been asking about you. You've made quite an impression."
"I'll send letters. I promised Adèle I'd send her some samples of my embroidery progress too."
"She'll love that. But Myo, I need to talk to you about something serious. First of all, you've worried us all a great deal lately. Aline has been especially concerned, wondering if you're alright and why you wouldn't explain where you've been disappearing to."
"They're kind, but it's really none of their business... I'm sorry they worried, though."
"You can tell them that later, but it is their business. As Veela, we need to look out for each other, and it's important for the older ones to watch over the younger ones. By hiding like this, if something had happened to you, no one would have even known where to start looking."
"But I'm safe here! This tree is solid, and we're well hidden."
"That's not the point. And besides, you don't know what poachers are willing to do to get their hands on a Veela, let alone a Taïvaalta. Everyone would have been devastated if you'd been attacked. You're still far too young to properly defend yourself against experienced adult witches and wizards. Would you have really been able to protect Luna?"
Myo remained silent for a long moment before saying in a contrite tone, "I'm sorry..."
"You'll apologise to Aline, Lina, Chloé, Margot, and Éloïse as well. They've been the most worried these past few days."
"I'll tell them…"
"Good. Tomorrow, we'll talk to a trusted professor who will place proper wards around this place."
"You're not going to make me abandon our nest, are you?" Myo asked, her eyes full of hope.
"Good heavens, no! That would be cruel, and it's actually against flock law to force a couple to abandon their nest. But Myo, you need to spend more time in the tower with our sisters. Coming here to recharge once in a while is fine, but your room in the dovecote can't just sit unused. Don't forget, part of why you're here is to get your aura used to being around others more regularly. Otherwise, you'll always feel uncomfortable in a flock. That's not what you want, is it?"
Myo shook her head vigorously.
"Good. In that case, no more than two nights a week here, alright?"
"Yes, Fleur…" Myo replied, though there was clear reluctance in her voice.
"Good girl. I'm proud of you, Myo, you're making a real effort," Fleur smiled, ruffling Myo's hair.
Fleur wrapped an arm around Myo, just below her wings, pulling her close to her side to show she was there for her. She also used this moment to prepare herself for the hardest part of the conversation she needed to have.
"Myo, tell me, what do you think of Luna?"
"Oh, hmm…" Myo said, surprised by the sudden question. "She's my best friend. I feel sad when I don't see her every day; I miss her so quickly. I love doing things with her—playing, reading, painting, cuddling, exploring the forest, gathering mushrooms… She's really good at spotting little creatures. I wonder if she has a sixth sense for sensing animals... We never get bored together, and I have the best nights with her… Why?"
Faced with such innocence, Fleur found it difficult to respond. "Myo, you know what you're doing here with Luna is what we call nesting."
"What's that?" Myo asked, curious.
"It's when two Veela, or a Veela and their partner from another species, are so in love that they decide to have a child. The couple nests, finding a safe place where they can spend lots of time together until an egg is laid."
"But, but, it's not like that with me and Luna!" Myo said, panic creeping into her voice.
"Are you sure? You love her very much, don't you? Are you sure you love her in the same way you love your other friends?"
At that, Myo fell silent, deep in thought.
After a while, Fleur added, "You're far, far too young to even think about having an egg. There's nothing wrong with loving Luna, and as Isabelle explained to me, the circumstances of your childhood have accelerated your development quite a bit. That you've started nesting with the person closest to you should have been something we anticipated."
"Will I still be allowed to see Luna?" Myo asked in a small voice.
"Of course, but you need to think carefully about the kind of relationship you have with her, alright? Promise?"
"I promise, Fleur," Myo said.
"Good. I think I've given you plenty to think about for now. Come on, let's head back to the dovecote. Spending so much time in a nest isn't quite right for your age yet."
Their conversation had lasted a while, and by now, the sun had long since disappeared below the horizon. In the dark night, they both took flight, heading back to the dovecote, each lost in their own thoughts.
oOOOo
The painting club's room was quite peaceful, the silence disturbed only by the sound of rain pelting against the tall, arched windows of the old building. Between the thick curtains of rain and the dark clouds rolling over the valley, it had been so dim upon arrival that Madame Maeva had to bring out a cage of lucys—small, round, fluffy creatures made more of condensed magic than actual matter, lazily floating around the room and emitting a soft white light.
The regular ticking of the tall grandfather clock in the corner marked the slow passage of time. Occasionally, Myo could hear the distant rumble of thunder.
No one spoke a word; everyone was focused on the exercise Madame Maeva had assigned. They were to pair up and paint a portrait of each other using oil paints, whose vegetal odour was rather heady to her. Naturally, she and Luna had partnered, sitting across from each other near one of the windows, their easels and canvases the only things separating them.
She was quite proud of her work—her depiction of the serious, focused expression that Luna rarely wore seemed quite accurate. It was rather strange to paint Luna like this, without her dreamy look or expressive mannerisms. She was well aware that her painting wasn't perfect; she'd struggled with some of the proportions, and the colours weren't quite realistic, giving the portrait a somewhat blurred and vague impression. But she remained proud of how she had captured the softness and volume of Luna's silvery-blonde hair, as well as her sky-blue eyes concentrated on her work.
Today, unlike Luna, she was having a bit of trouble concentrating. Her gaze easily drifted towards the window, watching the water trickle down the small, coloured panes, or further outside, where she occasionally spotted students hurrying through the rain to find shelter.
At those moments, her mind wandered back to her conversation with Fleur the previous evening. Did she really love Luna differently than one loves a friend? Did she love her more? Differently? Fleur's words echoed in her head—she had made a nest without realising it, the kind of nest made for having eggs... The thought made her blush to the tips of her ears. When Luna asked what was wrong, she quickly replied that it was nothing.
She took advantage of a moment when Luna was focused on her canvas to gaze at her: those intense eyes, her little nose wrinkled in concentration, a strand of her beautiful hair—tied back to avoid touching the paint—having escaped to tuck itself behind her ear. She had to force herself to look away to avoid staring indefinitely and pretended to make progress on her own painting, though her thoughts were elsewhere. She thought about Cacendra and Lucie Delnë, the couple with whom she had spent her first recovery days after the troll incident. Those two had also made a nest and had talked about chicks... Did she love Luna the way Cacendra loved Lucie? She couldn't say, or even put her feelings into words, and it frustrated her immensely.
She loved spending time with Luna—talking, playing, walking, even doing nothing at all. And she never felt that discomfort with her that she eventually felt when spending too much time with someone else. She couldn't imagine sleeping with anyone other than Luna, not even her other friends. The mere idea of bringing someone else to the nest gave her goosebumps.
It was clear that she saw Luna differently from all her other friends and acquaintances. There was something more, but she couldn't put her finger on it or say to what extent... Then the obvious struck her: the tower she and Luna had taken over during her time at Hogwarts—was that also a nest? She felt herself blush again.
Fleur seemed to think that having a nest with Luna was something she shouldn't be doing until she was older, but she didn't really understand why. It wasn't as if she and Luna were doing anything out of the ordinary there... Fleur hadn't mentioned the specific sequence of actions that led to an egg appearing, just that it was something that happened when two adult Veela, or a Veela and her partner, settled in a nest. It wasn't very clear and didn't seem to concern her anyway. Fleur had been clear: she was far too young to have any egg-related issues. Fleur was right; she mainly needed to think about her relationship with Luna. It was evident they were more than friends, but what exactly... In the meantime, there was no harm in spending time alone together now and then, was there? Absolutely none. Especially if she kept her promise to Fleur and spent more time at the dovecote.
She pushed these thoughts out of her mind and tried to refocus on her painting, adding the final touches of colour here and there to bring out the details, volumes, shadows, and highlights. Once she had applied the last stroke, she quietly stood up and walked around the easels to stand behind Luna and see what she had done. Luna, engrossed in her work, didn't immediately notice her presence, giving Myo time to admire her friend's piece. Luna wasn't as good at drawing people, preferring animals or landscapes as subjects. But she had clearly made a great effort here. Luna had chosen to depict her in three-quarter view, turned towards the window, her gaze lost outside, the moody light of the rainy day filtering through the wet panes creating subtle patterns on her face. A mix of sadness and melancholy emanated from the scene, especially with the background darkened by her wings, which Luna had successfully rendered with a downy texture.
Luna must have sensed her presence because she leaned back, resting the top of her back against Myo's abdomen, tilting her head enough to see her from this unusual position. "Do you like it?" she asked with a big smile, her eyes sparkling.
"I like it a lot. I didn't know I looked so... melancholic?"
"Oh, poo, I was trying to capture you deep in thought... Your mind is elsewhere today."
"Yes, yesterday's conversation with Fleur is still on my mind."
"Hmmm..." Luna hummed, tidying her brushes and removing her apron—once white but now stained with multicoloured splotches. She then stood up and wrapped her arms around Myo, hugging her tightly for a few seconds. Surprised, Myo automatically returned the embrace.
After releasing her, Luna stepped back and observed her face with a smile. "Feel better? Mum always says hugs make worries fly away."
Taken aback by this earnest declaration, Myo burst into laughter. "You're right; thanks, that helps." She hadn't finished speaking when Luna had already skipped around to the other side of the easel to look at her work.
"So?" Myo asked, suddenly anxious, her heart pounding.
"I'm much prettier through your eyes than my own," Luna said thoughtfully, gazing at the painting.
"Are you sure? I painted you as I see you..."
"Yes, my mirror this morning confirms it, and you're adorable, Myo," Luna said. "Shall we go see Auntie Maeva and tell her we're done?"
"Good idea; we shouldn't disturb the others any longer." In unison, they headed towards the corner of the room where Maeva had her large, light wooden easel holding a sizeable canvas.
Maeva was perched on a tall stool with such a focused expression that neither Myo nor Luna dared to interrupt her. To Myo's great surprise, Maeva seemed to be talking to her painting—and worse, the painting was talking back.
"Maeva, my dear, I won't be able to stay still much longer," said the man with the long beard and colourful clothes, whose nose Maeva was in the process of painting.
"For goodness' sake, keep still, Albus, or I'll paint a wart on your forehead," Maeva hissed in exasperation.
The pieces clicked into place in Myo's mind—Maeva was painting Dumbledore!
"Oh, what I wouldn't give for some lemon drops..." sighed the portrait of the headmaster as a dab of light beige was added to his cheekbone.
"If you're good, I'll paint you a bowl of them," Maeva conceded.
Myo was fascinated; the headmaster looked more lifelike than ever—his expressions, the way his twinkling eyes shone behind his glasses—it was as if Maeva had managed to put the actual headmaster into the painting.
"Oh, look who it is! Hello, Miss Potter, Miss Lovegood. A pleasure to see you again," the portrait exclaimed upon noticing them.
"Hello, sir..." Myo replied cautiously.
"Oh, Luna, Myo, have you finished?" Maeva asked, glancing over her shoulder at them.
"Yes, madame," Myo said.
"Good, good. I'll have a look when they're dry and give you my feedback next time. Have a good rest of the afternoon... well, as much as possible with this rain."
"Thank you, madame."
"What a shame Hogwarts didn't suit you... You would have been students the school could be proud of," Dumbledore's portrait said, casting them a regretful look. "If only I'd known Lily was a Veela, things would have been quite different..."
"How so?" Myo asked.
"Hush, old man, no chattering while I'm painting your face," Maeva scolded.
With a grumpy expression, Albus closed his mouth and remained more or less still.
"Auntie, could you explain to Myo how soul painting works? She was asking me about it the other day," Luna said.
"Oh, well, it's not too complicated to explain," Maeva replied, giving them a gentle look. "Every being with magic has what's called a soul—a 'crystallisation' of part of their magic building upon the brain's structure from childhood, continuously developing thereafter. The soul takes the form of an extremely complex network unique to each individual. Some people, like me, have the ability to see souls and, using certain rituals, capture an image of them. The process involves reproducing the network with special magic-infused ink, layer by layer. Then, painting the person's portrait over it, linking it to the drawing of their soul. Of course, there are some simplifications, and the portrait will always be an imperfect copy of the person, but I can boast of producing portraits that are as close as possible to the real thing."
"So, Mr Dumbledore in the portrait—is he alive?" Myo asked.
"In a manner of speaking, but he's not really Albus, you know. He's a distorted copy of his mind inscribed on a canvas."
Myo felt a bit odd after hearing this explanation, though she couldn't quite say why. Perhaps it was the strange effect she sensed in her aura when she connected with the painting. She felt the same sensations and impressions through her aura when meeting the real Mr Dumbledore, but... mistier, more distant, less vivid, slower. Like an image on an old black-and-white photograph.
"And does he know everything the real Mr Dumbledore knows?" Myo asked.
"Not exactly," Maeva replied. "He knows everything Albus knew at the moment I copied his soul, and moreover, Albus chose to remove certain specific knowledge from the painting. Security reasons, you see—if someone were to steal the portrait, and if they were an accomplished wizard, they could extract a number of secrets."
"Why are you making a painting of Dumbledore, Auntie?" Luna asked, inspecting the little shining golden stars caught in the old man's beard.
"It's an official commission. All Hogwarts headmasters have their portraits made to guide their successors in taking over the school. It's been the case for several centuries... I believe it was in the 1300s that the art of soul painting really began to develop in Europe. There were different forms of it in Asia before that, but little is known on the subject."
Myo was about to ask the portrait a question, but Maeva asked them to run along, needing her concentration. In silence, she and Luna packed up their things and slipped out of the art room, gently closing the door behind them, taking care not to let it slam. They found themselves alone in the long corridor opening onto a succession of classrooms and other club rooms, mostly empty at this hour.
"So?" Myo asked Luna with a knowing look.
"There were quite a few little creatures watching Maeva from the shadows and atop the shelves—none that I recognise, by the way..." Luna said thoughtfully.
"Did they look nasty?"
"No, just curious. They were chatting amongst themselves, but too quietly for me to hear... So nothing new there. In any case, they don't seem to want to leave Maeva's side."
"Nothing really new, then... Do you think we should tell Mélusine?"
"She said to use the communication notebook only in emergencies or if there were significant changes in the situation, so I don't think so. However..."
"However?"
"I think I should find names for all these creatures. They're of a kind I'm not used to encountering."
"Maybe you should give them a group name if they're similar—you know, like real naturalists!"
"Great idea, Myo!" Luna exclaimed excitedly. "But they're really diverse. I even wonder if they belong to species or if they're unique creatures."
"Maybe start by listing their common points and differences?"
"I'll do that. After all, there can be quite a bit of variety within a new species." With that, Luna plunged into deep thought. They descended the grand staircase in silence until they reached the main entrance hall. It was late afternoon, and with the pouring rain, they didn't have many options. Hermione had invited them to the library after the club to meet up with Elvetia and Nym. Just as Luna was about to step out into the rain, too lost in thought to notice, Myo grabbed her by the shoulders to stop her. Luna let herself be guided, and Myo took the opportunity to wrap her wings around her, releasing the restraint on her flames to allow them to ignite her feathers, their gentle warmth enveloping them along with their bluish glow.
So when they stepped out into the rain, the drops evaporated before reaching them, surrounding them with a veil of mist and steam. As they walked through the deserted paths between the high buildings turned grey by the rain, she posed the question that had been nagging at her since her meeting with Fleur.
"Tell me, Luna, how do you like me?"
"An awful lot—why?" Luna asked innocently.
Myo felt herself blush, her flames intensifying. "I mean, like a friend?"
"Like my very best friend!" Luna affirmed, joy audible in her voice.
Though that answer should have made her happy, she felt an inexplicable pang in her heart as they reached the entrance to the library.
oOOOo
If it weren't for her flames keeping her warm, Myo's talons would have been frozen after spending so long perched motionless on a rock overlooking the calm waters of the pond. She had been watching the surface of the water for many long minutes, searching for the glint of scales from a trout, carp, or pike.
It wouldn't be long now. The proof lay in the small pile beside her: two sturgeons, an eel, and a perch, their scales glistening under the timid sunlight of the morning. She had taken advantage of having no classes that morning to head to her hunting grounds with a clear goal in mind: to make amends with her Veela friends. She knew she had worried them over the past few days with all the time spent at the nest and her admittedly odd behaviour.
What better way to apologise than to offer each of them a big, juicy fish? Surely, with a beautiful fish in hand, how could they hold anything against her? She already imagined them giving her admiring looks as she basked in the glory of a successful catch. "Oh, Myo, it wasn't that big of a deal, really… Yes, you're forgiven! What a wonderful gesture... I've never seen such magnificent fish," she pictured them saying, with Fleur standing back, giving her an approving smile.
The wind in the reeds and the sound of a blackbird singing were her only companions as she waited, the soft, cool breeze and the gentle touch of the rising sun on her feathers making her almost want to take a nap. She could find a branch to perch on and let herself drift off... No, she shook her head quickly. She needed to stay focused.
Then, a sudden splash caught her attention. A few metres to her right, her gaze met that of a large grey heron with a small perch in its beak. It was the first time she had seen one so close. The heron swallowed the fish without breaking eye contact, then focused its full attention on her. Myo felt uncomfortable under its intense gaze, the bird's round yellow eyes with wide pupils staring at her with surprising intelligence.
Then the heron's eyes shifted to her small pile of fish. It began to move slowly in her direction, each step calculated and precise, as was the way with wading birds. Unacceptable! Myo thought, puffing up her feathers and spreading her wings to appear as imposing as possible. The heron froze, its gaze locked with hers. Myo could almost see the calculations going on in the bird's mind. Was it worth trying to steal the fish?
It took another step forward, and she responded by letting out a long, sharp, threatening hiss, making herself look even larger. The heron hesitated, then took a step back, retreating slightly into the reeds, before turning its gaze away.
On her side, Myo felt her feathers settle back to normal, and her heartbeat slowed. She and the heron were now about three metres apart, both facing the pond, occasionally exchanging wary glances. Thus began a silent coexistence. Myo watched enviously from the corner of her eye as the heron speared a frog with its beak and gulped it down greedily.
But she was not left wanting for long, as a few minutes later, she spotted the tell-tale ripple of movement beneath the water near her rock. Balancing on her left talon, she swiftly struck with the other, piercing the surface of the water and snatching a wriggling chub. She pressed her finger against the back of the fish's head and sent a burst of her flames through it, instantly overheating its brain and killing it in one swift motion. Five fish. Three more, and there would be enough for everyone, including herself and Luna.
"You're skilled," said a voice close to her ear, speaking in French with an unplaceable accent. Myo leapt back with a startled shriek, flapping her wings vigorously to avoid a painful fall. It took her a few seconds to orient herself and figure out where the voice had come from. A tall, lanky woman, her muscular frame both sinewy and powerful, stood on the rock she had occupied just moments before. She was naked, her body marked with several scars that had faded over time. Her face was hard but well-formed, her features sharp and angular, her lips set beneath a long, prominent nose. Her short, unevenly cropped light-brown hair framed her face, drawing attention to her striking golden-yellow eyes. She was slightly hunched forward, hands clasped behind her back, observing Myo with curiosity.
It was while looking into her eyes that Myo realised, "You're the heron," she said, surprising even herself with the conclusion.
The woman jumped down from the rock and approached just enough to examine Myo more closely. "You know we're on the Red's territory. Do you have his permission to fish here, little one?"
"The Red… You mean Louis Courtois?" she asked, remembering the goblin she had made a promise to a few days earlier.
"I don't know if he's called Louis, but he's not courteous to everyone. He drowns or spears those who don't respect his waters."
"I promised to help defend his territory. In exchange, he allows me to fish and hunt," Myo said, eyeing her cautiously. "What about you? Does he let you?"
"I'm a heron," the woman replied simply, as if that explained everything. "You're a good fisher, you smell of the forest, the clouds, and the sea, but you wear cloth and metal, and yet you come from the village. The other bird-women in the tower don't come to fish; they get their food there… You're strange."
"I don't like not catching my own food. The fish I catch myself tastes much better."
"Why so much fish? That's a lot for one beak," the heron-woman asked, curious.
"I'm not fishing just for me, but also to offer the fish as an apology to some friends I've worried. And for Luna, because I care about her a lot, and she's small and needs to be fed."
"They don't feed her enough in the village?"
"They do! But… it's not the same. Luna needs to eat my fish," Myo said, blushing as she realised how irrational her argument sounded.
"You're probably right. It's always better to make sure the chicks are well-fed yourself."
"Luna's not a chick! She's a friend!"
"And she can't fish for herself?"
"No… but she has other talents!"
"Hmmm… Why do you live in the tower? You smell of the sea and the sky. I'm surprised you've perched somewhere when you resonate so much with freedom. It's also your right to appear and disappear as you wish. It's odd that you care so much about the worries of the other Veela. They smell of the bark of bonds and dust."
"I can leave whenever I want, do whatever I want, that's true. But agreeing to certain requests from my friends is well worth the sacrifice. My complete solitude before Luna came along was miserable, and I don't want to go back to that, no matter how free it made me. You say they smell of bonds—that's wonderful, you know, feeling our auras blend and harmonise, our emotions singing together… Do you sing?"
"No, my voice is too raspy for that. I prefer listening to those who sing better than me."
"Do you live here? Do you have companions?"
"No, I'm just passing through. I wander between the rivers, ponds, and lakes of the mountains. If I stayed here too long, the Red would chase me away. He doesn't like it when too many frogs get eaten. And I have a few acquaintances but no companions, you know. Most herons don't have much interesting to say."
"Do you feel lonely?" Myo asked.
"A little. It's not often I get the chance to talk."
"You know, this is my hunting ground, so I'll be coming back here often. If you want to talk again, I'd be happy to. I can tell you what's going on in the village, as you call it. Actually, it's an academy, not a village."
"That would be pleasant indeed, little bird. I might even show you places the Red doesn't know about. That said, I don't really see the difference between a village and an academy. Faïelle tried to explain it to me, but it's still pretty unclear."
"Faïelle?"
"A friend of mine. She lives in the forest, about a good flight away from here. She's kind, but quite hot-tempered. Well, I must go, or the Red will cause trouble."
"Wait, what should I call you?"
"I don't have much use for a name… but Faïelle likes to call me Grisbec. Well then, little bird, happy fishing!" she said before vanishing in a cloud of white-grey mist. Emerging from it was a large grey heron, which took flight, circling once above the lake before heading west.