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Once Alphonse leaves, I spend the afternoon in the library with Ewald. There are mostly History and Magic books, but I manage to find a few novels. My companion also shows me the section dedicated to Mind Magic, and I flit from book to book until he suggests a small duelling session. It's been ages since we last had one, and I'm surprised he's okay with letting me use my wand, but I guess he trusts his duelling skills. Rightly so, I imagine.
To avoid damaging anything, we head back to the garden for the practice. It's certainly easier at Hogwarts to find an empty room with nothing fragile inside. Here, everything is old and delicate, probably not packed with protection spells like at school, safeguarding against students' clumsiness. Ewald tells me with a smile I'd readily call sadistic that this will be a chance for me to learn how to fight in a new environment. I grimace, but truthfully, I like the challenge. We set up in a clear space near the woods, far enough from the elves' crops not to risk damaging them, but still in view so no one gets hit by a stray spell without warning.
Ewald hesitates for a split second before handing me my wand, but unlike what I'd have expected, he doesn't launch into a speech like Arthur certainly would. Instead, he simply says:
"I trust you."
And after two seconds of silence, he adds:
"Well, I hope you remember the rules: shield and disarming spells only, good luck!"
And without giving me a moment to think, he sends an Expelliarmus my way, which I barely dodge. Is that his strategy? Keep me from thinking? If he thinks that's going to wor— I dodge another attack, this time slipping on a patch of ice. Glorious. Ewald seizes the opportunity to disarm me, then tosses my wand back. Alright, his strategy is definitely working.
After having my wand taken several times, we switch to a more varied duel, where Ewald encourages me to use every spell I know to incapacitate him, either by immobilising him or disarming him. He is only allowed to use shield charms and a glowing mark spell, with each mark counting as a mistake on my part. Of course, I can forfeit at any time; otherwise, thirty marks will mean my loss. Once again, I dash about, running in every direction, using the surroundings to hide or dodge. I even use the snow as a projectile or a blinding cloud, shouting things that only make sense to me, like a glorious:
"NINPO! CAMOUFLAGE IN THE ICE-ARGH!"
As my chin once again crashes painfully into the treacherous icy surface. Ewald checks to make sure I'm not hurt before continuing the fight. I try my best, but despite being athletic, I still get winded. Thankfully, my opponent does too, even though he remains in much better shape than I am. Still, I manage to keep him moving quite a bit. The duel could have gone on longer, but suddenly a red spell hits Ewald from behind, coming from the forest.
He freezes in place, and I immediately turn my wand towards the approximate direction the spell came from, my expression growing serious. Ready to defend myself, even though I know I stand no chance against someone who can cast non-verbal spells.
"Calm down, child," says a dry voice. "It's only me."
Ewald's grandmother steps out from the cover of the trees. I haven't seen her since my arrival. Today she's wearing a warm winter cloak in a deep violet over her strict black robes, with an expression that one might almost describe as vaguely amused, assuming one has a good deal of imagination. I lower my wand, and she gives a stiff nod of approval. She releases Ewald with a casual flick of her wand, and he quickly brushes off his clothes before casting one of his signature smoothing spells to tidy up his outfit and hair.
"All good, grandmother?"
"All good. I was going to visit Rosemary when I heard some racket coming from here, so I came to see what caused it. Your other friend has left?"
"Yes, grandmother. I hope the noise wasn't too much of a bother. I was training my friend in duelling."
"And you forgot to watch your back! I hope you won't make that mistake again. The noise isn't an issue, but I'd like my grandson to know how to defend himself properly."
"Of course, grandmother."
"I will make sure to check that you've taken my advice seriously," the old lady assures, with a slight smile on her lips. "Well, I'll leave you to it then. Make sure you're both presentable for dinner."
My friend nods seriously, and his grandmother doesn't linger, disappearing back towards the manor. We watch her until she's out of sight.
"Is it a tradition in your family to randomly hit people with Petrificus Totalus?" I ask lightly, unintentionally referencing my suicide attempt.
"My grandmother has her own views on education. Just in case, be prepared for your vigilance to be tested as well."
"If she even notices I exist," I say, thinking of Alphonse, who would have reacted immediately if he'd been ignored for nearly the whole conversation.
"She just doesn't know how to act around you, don't take it personally."
"I'm teasing, don't worry. She can pretend I don't exist; I'm perfectly fine with that." And if I didn't exist, I'd be even better, I add silently to myself.
The prolonged interruption of our duel eventually reminded me that it was cold, and I was exhausted, with my sweat gradually turning to ice. I suppose Ewald noticed as well because he suggests we call it a day and head inside to warm up. Of course, he confiscates my wand, much to my displeasure, and casts a series of spells to warm me, dry me, and make me presentable again. Before that, I made sure to recast my glamours for safety, after informing Ewald, of course.
The rest of the day passes peacefully, with me making some progress on reading one of my novels in my room. Ewald stays nearby most of the time, only stepping out for an hour to see his mother. Cautious as ever, I don't immediately jump at the chance to attempt suicide. I had no doubt my friend hadn't left me entirely unmonitored, and I needed a solid plan. However, nothing was stopping me from thinking about what I could do or, with a bit of luck, finding a way to hurt myself just enough. It might clear my head—who knows.
I start by quickly taking inventory of what interesting things I have in my trunk (while pretending to tidy it up). I've got two razor blades, a small folding knife (sadly not very sharp), the kerosene for my fire staff, and my potions kit. It's something, at least. I also have all the Quest of Ewilan series, as well as the Worlds of Ewiland and The Marchombres' pact*. I set those aside. Maybe I could convince Ewald to read them? Other than that, there's just my clothes and a few odds and ends. Unless I plan to strangle myself with them, I don't see how they could be of any use.
I discreetly slip one of my blades into my sleeve and from there into my pocket, acting as though I were being watched. Then, I reorganise my mess, hiding my more interesting items in various parts of the trunk so they wouldn't be too easily found. After that, I head towards the bathroom with my shower things, trying to look as innocent as possible.
Just as I'm about to arrive, a house-elf appears and bows deeply before me, asking,
"If the young lady would kindly wait a few moments, the young master has requested to be present when you take a shower. He should be here soon. Jamy apologises for the inconvenience."
"I just want to shower," I sigh.
"Jamy is sorry, young lady, but the young master gave very clear instructions."
Resigned, I return to my room. The elf can do magic—I can't. I pretend to immerse myself back into my book while waiting for Ewald, but I'm far too angry to actually read.
Finally, the Slytherin arrives. He thanks Jamy aloud before dismissing him, then turns to me with an apologetic smile.
"I know you hate this, but I can't take any chances."
"Seriously, Ewald, I just want to shower in peace! Are you going to control my every move forever? You'll have to trust me one day! Treating me like this isn't going to help me feel any better!"
Ewald doesn't get angry; he just stays firm.
"I'll watch over you for as long as necessary, and I won't take any unnecessary risks. If you have to hate me for that, then so be it. It changes nothing. I refuse to lose you. That's all."
I don't bother replying, instead striking the wall next to me with a hard punch. Ewald flinches, takes a step towards me as if to intervene but stops when I don't go any further. Instead, I pick up my shower things and follow my jailer to the bathroom. On the way, he gently brushes against my mind, and I reluctantly open our connection, not bothering to hide my rage. It also serves as a shield to conceal the faint guilt I feel about the blade in my pocket and the tension that builds at the thought he might consider searching me. Luckily, he doesn't. He simply responds to my anger, through our link, by sharing his emotions.
He is genuinely sorry for treating me this way, but I sense his deep resolve not to let me slip away. There's something more tied to that feeling, but he doesn't share it with me. And what really gets to me is the genuine fear underneath it all—the fear of losing me, of seeing me die. It's this fear that tempers my anger, though it doesn't make it disappear. It's always harder to hate someone you understand, and I don't hate Ewald anyway. I'm just frustrated with him—for being so attached to me that he's stopping me from finally dying. I'm angry at him for watching me, for locking me up. But at the same time, I care about him, and I'm grateful for the very affection that I hate because it's getting in the way of my plans.
Once I'm finally alone inside the bathroom, I undress and discreetly retrieve one of my blades. I try to keep my mood as stable as possible to avoid giving away what I'm about to do. There's no point trying to kill myself; Ewald is ready to step in. But I can at least cut myself, carefully choosing where, so the Slytherin won't notice what I've done. The first cut is long but almost superficial, across my chest. I finally feel like I can fill my lungs completely, like I can breathe better. The cuts that follow help me release my frustration, and I struggle to control myself, to keep it from spiralling out of hand. The only reason I manage to stop is knowing that Ewald is nearby, attentive. In fact, it's him who interrupts me.
"Everything okay, Vivian? You've gone quiet."
"I'm fine, I'm fine, just dealing with some pimples if you really want to know," I reply, letting my annoyance seep through our mental link.
Then I turn on the water to get some peace and slip into the shower. The hot water burns my wounds, and I relish the sensation, regretting that I couldn't actually taste my blood. But at least I managed to cut myself—gotta stay positive. Once I'm out, I only dry myself halfway, afraid of leaving bloodstains on the towel. I want to cut myself more, to go for my thighs, but it's too risky for now. Instead, I hide my blade again and get dressed. Luckily, my t-shirt is black, so I don't have to worry about Ewald noticing anything through it. Then I rejoin him, and we head down for dinner.
This time, his grandmother is present. Did she only avoid us because Alphonse was around earlier? Yet I'm a Muggle-born, which is even worse than the Gryffindor's half-blood status, right? Whatever the reason, the meal goes smoothly. The women of Ewald's family talk about natural magic and plans for the land. His grandmother also mentions her latest session at the Wizengamot, and I get the feeling she wants Ewald to pay close attention, as her gaze focuses on him while she speaks. My friend listens with a serious face, giving her his full attention. The heir of the Carters. The heir of the Slides. I'd asked him about it, and Slide is the name he inherited from his father. Whether he likes it or not, he's forced to bear it, to keep up appearances. But I know he hates it.
At the same time, he's also the sole heir of the Carter line, his mother's family. He explained to me that his grandmother is overseeing his political education, and I suppose talking about the Wizengamot is part of that.
Later, I go to bed with a book, and Ewald agrees to take a look at The Quest of Ewilan. He settles into the chair where Alphonse was watching me this morning and starts reading. I sneak glances at him now and then, amused to see how engrossed he is. I wasn't sure he'd enjoy it. I hope he'll keep the series after I'm gone.
Eventually, bedtime approaches, and before leaving, Ewald sits on the edge of my bed (it's becoming a habit).
"I'll leave you now, but Fredy will be watching over you tonight. He'll be invisible, but he'll stay near the entrance to your room. He's been instructed not to come near you unless absolutely necessary or unless you ask him to. If you'd prefer him to be visible, just let him know. If you need anything, don't hesitate to tell him to wake me, alright?"
"Yeah, okay," I reply, sounding unenthusiastic.
I find the house-elf's presence slightly less disturbing than Alphonse's. I guess it's because it was a human who raped me. Even so, it still makes me angry, but I've understood that this situation will continue until I finally manage to kill myself. Ewald's serious voice pulls me from my angry thoughts.
"Even if you think it's ridiculous, even if you believe it doesn't matter. It doesn't bother me. I'm serious, Vivian."
I don't bother replying, offering only a simple "Good night." A part of me wishes he'd hold my hand again. He leaves, turning off the light with a spell.
oOo
The night drags on painfully. I struggle to fall asleep, my mind restless, but the cuts on my body keep me company. I press against them through my shirt, reigniting their sting, letting the burning sensation soothe the chaos in my thoughts. It's strange, too, feeling my chest changing, tiny lumps beneath my skin as my body begins to develop breasts again. I could do without it. I still remember my brother's hands, the way they groped me that night. I hate myself. I want to vomit.
I want to die.
Just like always.
Eventually, I drift into a troubled sleep. My dreams are confusing and chaotic. At one point, I wake up in tears, shaken by another nightmare. In it, I saw Quentin, but he didn't recognize me. I knew he knew who I was, but he called me a liar, saying his friend wasn't some eleven-year-old kid, and that I was right to want to die. Then Ewald appeared, threatening Quentin for some reason, and I had to fight him to protect Quentin, who didn't even care about me. I knew I'd have to kill Ewald, and I didn't want to, but this cold determination inside me told me I would do what I had to. And then I'd kill myself. Then the dream shifted, and I was pinned under a stranger, hearing him say, "If you don't want this, I'll stop, okay?" But I couldn't speak, I couldn't move—I just endured.
My breathing speeds up, and I don't even try to fight it. I bury my head under the pillow, crying and suffocating, hoping the house-elf will leave me alone. Quietly, I press my hands to my throat, digging my nails into my skin, trying to calm myself. I hate these visions. One of my hands slides under my shirt, clawing at my cuts, anything to help me feel in control.
"Vivian?"
I freeze for a split second. Ewald.
"Leave… me… alone…" I manage to gasp between breaths.
He's already sitting at the edge of my bed. I quickly pull my hands away from my throat and my cuts before he can see. He hasn't turned on the light, and I don't want to give him any reason to. I turn my back to him. He places a gentle hand on my shoulder.
"It's going to be okay, Vivian. Aurore. I'm here. I'm here."
He stays with me until my panic attack subsides. Slowly, he wraps me in his arms again, soft yet firm, and his touch soothes me and makes me want to run away at the same time. It's like having a fever, constantly shifting between hot and cold. I don't know how to feel. His scent is different from Arthur's or Quentin's—Quentin often smelled like sweat and laundry detergent, a smell I haven't really forgotten—but Ewald's is comforting too. He smells clean, but not in the same way Muggles do with their soaps and detergents. It's something else. I must be messed up to focus on these kinds of thoughts when someone's holding me. Or maybe it's my way of distancing myself from what's happening? I'm not sure.
Either way, he stays. When I start feeling like I might be able to sleep again, he asks if I want him to leave. I shake my head, squeezing his hand tighter. I can't bring myself to speak. I don't want to admit out loud, yet again, that I need him to stay. So, he stays. He sits next to me, and I rest my head on his lap, half-asleep. I don't let go of his hand. With his free hand, he strokes my hair, and while it feels a bit strange, it's also comforting. I'm still scared his hands might wander, but not as much as with Alphonse, I think. But his hands don't stray. One stays in my hair, continuing its soothing rhythm, and the other stays warm, held tightly in mine.
The next morning, despite sleeping slightly better after Ewald's intervention, I'm still exhausted. As usual. The Slytherin is still here, sitting against the wall by my bed, and I wonder if he even slept. Probably not. It's my fault. I also realise he's wearing pyjamas, and it's the first time I've seen him like this. Well, his pyjamas are so well-tailored they could pass for luxury sportswear, but still. They're dark blue, with snowflakes gently falling on the top. Magic does some cool things. My friend notices me watching him and blushes almost imperceptibly when he realises I'm staring at his pyjamas.
"Good morning, Vivian. Since you're awake, I'll get changed into something more appropriate, alright?"
"I don't see any problem with your pyjamas, but do as you like. Don't you ever lounge around in them?"
"No, that wouldn't be proper."
I sigh. Pure-bloods. He doesn't seem to pick up on my reaction and finally leaves me alone. I use the privacy of the blankets to change, knowing that, with Ewald, I'm probably still being watched, and I don't want him finding out what's on my chest.
oOo
Ewald's mother joins us for breakfast, and she suggests,
"It's Christmas Eve tomorrow, why don't you both take a trip to Diagon Alley today? If Vivian's never seen it, she shouldn't miss the Christmas decorations!"
"And I haven't bought any presents!" I realise, slightly panicked but also grateful for the opportunity Ewald's mother is giving me. This outing might be a good chance to slip away.
"That's a good idea, Mum. I assume you'd be up for it, Vivian?" Ewald asks.
"Yes," I reply sincerely, with a smile. "I'm curious to see how wizards decorate their streets for Christmas."
"Very well," Ewald smiles. "Will you be joining us?" he asks his mother.
She gives a faint smile but declines.
"There's too much commotion for me, I could do with a bit of rest. Tomorrow will be busy; we're invited to the Cliffords' manor for dinner. They wanted to ensure we're well-fed and get acquainted before we whisk away their youngest."
"Their youngest?" I repeat, confused. And what's this plan? Dinner with the Cliffords?
"Yes, Arthur has an older brother. Didn't you know?" Ewald asks.
"No."
"It's true, he rarely mentions him. He's much older. But dinner with the Cliffords, Mum? Will you be alright?"
"Evelyn assured me they'd keep it small and wouldn't mind if we didn't stay too long. It's high time I met your best friend's family, don't you think?"
Ewald just nods with a smile, though I can sense he's worried. Why? He doesn't press the issue, instead suggesting we meet half an hour after breakfast to head to Diagon Alley. I understand he wants some time alone with his mother, so I leave them in peace. I retreat to the library after packing my things. I don't have much to bring. My blade, some money, and something warm to wear. I grab a wizard's cloak but keep my jogging bottoms and sweatshirt on underneath. I hope my Muggle outfit doesn't stand out too much. Not that I care what people think, but I'd rather not draw attention.
Ewald is already downstairs when I come down, sitting in the drawing room with his mother. He smiles as I arrive and promises her we'll be back in time for dinner. She insists on giving me some pocket money—a Galleon—despite my protests. Normally, I wouldn't argue, but since I'm planning to use this trip to slip away from Ewald, it feels a bit dishonest. Still, the money might come in handy for my escape. We use Floo Powder to travel to Diagon Alley, me first and then Ewald right behind. He arrives so quickly after me that I barely have time to step out of the way. Always vigilant, huh?
oOo
We step out of the Floo hub and finally set foot on Diagon Alley. I stop in the middle of the street, the sight before me beautiful enough to pull me out of my usual fog for a moment. Magical snow falls from the sky, dissolving into sparkling glitter when it touches the ground. Colourful will-o'-the-wisps serve as lanterns, floating peacefully in the air a few metres above the passers-by's heads, glowing even though it's daytime. The wizards walking around are dressed in festive clothes—reds, greens, silver, and gold. Many of their outfits are adorned with magical patterns. A cheerful tune plays all around, and I see children setting off small fireworks here and there, exploding into drawings of light.
"Do you like it?" Ewald asks.
"A lot," I smile, though adding, "even if there are too many people for my liking."
"I agree," my friend smiles back. "Would you prefer to start with some shopping or a cup of hot chocolate? I know a cosy little tea shop."
"Hot chocolate, I think. It'll go nicely with the view."
"Onward, then," Ewald says with another smile.
This is yet another side of him taking control. At the manor, I discovered a gentler Ewald—close to his family, less rigid—and now I see glimpses of the child he must have been, under the Christmas lights. Of course, his outfit remains impeccable, and his smiles don't linger long, but his face carries the cheerfulness of the holiday, even if not as relaxed as he was at home.
On impulse, I take his hand. "This way I won't lose you in the crowd!" I joke.
He just smiles again, as if not buying my excuse, but he doesn't let go. We weave through the throngs of people, Ewald's imposing stature clearing a path for us, and in the end, holding hands proves quite useful. From a distance, someone might think he's my older brother, with our matching dark hair and his protective manner. Almost instantly, what felt like a sweet and amusing thought turns my stomach. My older brother. Jérémy. Now, I can't help but think about him, and my free hand nervously presses against my chest, hoping to awaken the burning sensation from my cuts. It's not enough to calm me, but I don't dare press harder in case Ewald notices something. So, I focus on the snowflakes, the will-o'-the-wisps, and try to forget the turmoil inside me.
I look around. We've left the busiest part of the street, and it's once again possible to walk side by side without bumping into anyone. It's around this time that I hear someone call out to me:
"Vivian?!"
I turn in the direction of the voice. Near the terrace of a café is Scorpius, accompanied by Daphne Greengrass and a tall man with nearly white blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. His parents. So, Draco Malfoy? The group approaches us, and I discreetly let go of Ewald's hand. My suspicions are quickly confirmed when Ewald politely greets the group.
"Professor Greengrass, Scorpius. Lord Malfoy," he finishes with a hint of deference, slightly bowing his torso.
"Lord Slide," Draco pronounces in a neutral voice.
"Father, I'd like you to meet my friend Vivian. Vivian, this is my father, Draco Malfoy," Scorpius introduces us with a smile as his mother greets Ewald and me.
"So, you are the famous Vivian. Scorpius has spoken of you. I'm pleased to know he's spending time with someone more studious than the Potter twins. I understand you've been a great help to him when it comes to his studies."
Caught off guard, I feel myself blush a little, and not just from the cold.
"Ah, um, it's an honour, Lord Malfoy. Scorpius is a very good student; he helps me a lot too!"
From Scorpius's smile, it's the right answer. His father extends his hand, and I shake it, trying to ignore the ridiculousness of the situation. His hand is easily three times the size of mine.
"You can call me Draco. You're neither a lady nor a Potter, so it'll be fine."
"Father!" Scorpius protests.
Daphne looks amused but quickly intervenes:
"Speaking of Potters, we need to find the two monsters. Allow us to take our leave, Ewald, Vivian."
"Of course," Ewald replies, still maintaining his rigid pure-blood heir posture. "I wish you a Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas to you!" reply Scorpius's parents.
"Merry Christmas!" Scorpius shouts back at me, and I return the sentiment.
The small group departs, and I continue to walk alongside Ewald, reflecting on the slightly surreal scene that just unfolded.
oOo
The tea shop Ewald mentioned isn't far now, and we make our way there in silence. My friend holds the door for me to enter first. From the outside, it's a charming little two-storey building with a sign reading "La bulle – Tea shop." The name is really in French. Those British and their habit of finding my native language classy…
Inside, however… I'm greeted by snowflakes gently swirling up and down in a soothing ballet. They are intangible and don't obstruct our view of the surroundings. Everything, from the floor to the ceiling, is made of dark, aged wood. The dining tables are arranged in small clusters of low tables covered with white tablecloths. But the most striking feature is that these clusters are surrounded by what looks like giant soap bubbles. A waiter, dressed in a smart black and white uniform, directs us to a table and leaves us a menu before discreetly walking away, promising to return quickly to take our order.
As soon as we're seated, I return to my initial concern and ask Ewald:
"Did Draco Malfoy seriously just suggest I call him by his first name?"
The menu can wait, but not the surrealism of the previous encounter.
"I believe so, yes," my companion replies, amused. "I get the impression he likes you."
"But why? I don't even know him! And isn't he supposed to despise Muggleborns?"
"I've only interacted with him at official dinners, but I think he's evolved quite a bit since the events described in the Harry Potter books."
"I see…" I sigh. "In any case, I didn't expect that…"
"Neither did I, to be honest. Scorpius must have said quite a bit of good about you. Or it could be a political move. Aside from that, do you like this place?"
"Oh, um, yes!" I reply, coming back to the reality of my surroundings. "I really like it. It's poetic, in a way."
"I come here almost every time I visit Diagon Alley," Ewald smiles. "Usually, it's rain instead of snowflakes in the air, but they've kept up with the season. The bubbles isolate you from the outside; no one can hear what we say inside and vice versa, which adds to the place's popularity. Anyway, you should choose your drink; the waiter shouldn't be too long in coming back."
I nod and follow my companion's advice. I settle on a hot chocolate with Suri cream, which is apparently a type of magical rodent. The waiter does indeed return shortly to take our order, and Ewald asks him to bring us two slices of Crystal Cake in addition to our drinks. At my curious expression, he explains, once the waiter has left, that it's a traditional Wizarding Christmas dessert, a kind of cake with candied fruits that resemble jewels. We don't have time to really discuss before the waiter comes back; I imagine magic helps in cooking faster.
Everything is delicious. The chocolate is both sweet and spicy, and even though it's absurd to say that about a liquid, it is… melting. It's chocolate like I could only imagine from the best chocolatier, but with indefinable notes that give it a unique flavour, flowing down my throat effortlessly. And the cake! The cake… It's stunning, with icing sugar resembling sparkling snow, and the translucent, colourful candied fruits. It's also divinely moist, and every time I bite into a fruit, it's like a miniature explosion of flavours in my mouth. Ewald has a slight amused smirk, probably because I must look funny. My impression is confirmed moments later when he says:
"I take it the food is to your liking?"
"I think it's the best hot chocolate I've ever had. In all my lives."
Ewald doesn't really smile at the mention of my past life, yet the silence that envelops us for a while is comfortable. I sip my hot chocolate slowly, savouring it, when a thought, a question crosses my mind.
"Ewald?"
"Mmh?" he replies, looking up, patiently waiting for me to continue.
"How come your mother has never met Arthur?"
My interlocutor seems to weigh the pros and cons, and I wonder if he'll answer me. Eventually, he decides to speak.
"I'm happy to explain, but I'd prefer to do it tonight if you don't mind. Even though the bubbles are supposed to guarantee our privacy, I'll feel more comfortable at the manor."
"No problem," I reply, a bit disappointed.
Still, I trust him. He'll answer me; he doesn't dodge my direct questions. But well, if I'm lucky, I'll be dead before tonight. I just need to find the right opportunity… The silence between us stretches again. I'm lost in my thoughts of death, and Ewald doesn't seem to feel the need to rekindle the conversation. Once we finish our drinks, he asks if I have any idea which shops I need to visit for my purchases.
"I haven't really taken the time to think about it… I don't even know what Christmas gifts I could possibly buy! But in any case, I want to go to some bookshops."
"Surprising," Ewald says sarcastically.
"Do you have money on you, or do we need to go to Gringotts?"
"I have what I need," I reply.
"Good. If you ever need a bit of change, just let me know. If I judge that your purchase won't put you in danger, I can use part of the family fortune to help you. It'll stick it to my ancestors."
"Tssss…" I say, amused.
oOo
We start our shopping tour at a Potions shop, as Ewald needs a few ingredients. The shop sells, in addition to the necessary brewing supplies, various potions and lotions made on-site. I wander through the aisles, a bit curious. Of course, buying a dangerous product is out of the question; Ewald would prevent me from doing so, and I can't steal anything. I'm too uninformed about Wizarding anti-theft measures. However, this gives me an idea of what is sold here. I see various healing potions, shampoo, and even hair dye. There are plenty of different colours, and the bottles indicate different durations for the colourings. My gaze is drawn to a bottle that promises rainbow highlights, another that claims the hair will change colour according to one's mood, and finally, one that supposedly provides a "starry sky" effect to one's hair. I'm somewhat tempted to try them. But I probably won't live long enough to do so. Still, it would be a good way to make Ewald believe that the idea of living is taking root in my mind. He approaches and raises an amused eyebrow upon seeing what has caught my attention.
"Do you plan on dressing up as a rainbow?"
"I don't know; I was mostly wondering what it would look like."
"Having seen some people try it out, I can guarantee that the result is quite striking. However, you need to be sure of yourself, because the colours are really flashy."
"I see," I say, smiling. "I'll take a bottle for Scorpius and his friends then. I'm sure they'll know how to use it wisely."
"Lord Malfoy would be shocked to know that you're providing his son with ingredients to sow chaos. Speaking of which, would you like to visit the Weasley joke shop?"
"Yes! That would be brilliant!" I reply enthusiastically, honestly curious to discover the shop so highly praised in the books.
Plus, I'll probably find something nice for Alphonse in there. If I'm going to die, I might as well give good gifts to my friends. I reluctantly put the starry hair lotion back on the shelf, a bit regretfully. I think I would have liked it, but it's not worth spending money on. I quickly pay for my purchases, followed by Ewald, who has chosen a reasonable amount of potion ingredients and a few other products. I tune out of his conversation with the shopkeeper until he tells me that our purchases will be sent directly to the manor so that we don't have to carry them with us.
We stop briefly on the way to the Weasley prank shop to go into a small board game store where Ewald buys a gift for Arthur. Since he's already getting a board game for the Hufflepuff, and I don't know any, I don't bother to look too closely. I'll find something else later, and the shop is too crowded for me to want to linger. At least the crowd has the positive aspect of helping me possibly slip away from my escort if I manage to evade his gaze.
The Weasley shop is absolutely packed, and Ewald stays close to me. I don't know where to look as everything around me explodes in colourful bursts, sparkling and making sounds of bells, trumpets, and who knows what else. Half of the ground floor is dedicated to "seasonal" products. Crackers that explode in the face of the person who opens them, trapped snowballs, elusive sweets... There are too many people and too much noise, so I take refuge with my companion on the second floor, which resembles more of a funfair museum than a shop. Here are the biggest hits of Weasley and Weasley, the ones that made their success, and a small "retrospective" corner that tells how the shop was founded. There's also a whole selection of animated fireworks, and I grab a "surprise" box with the idea of giving it to Alphonse. After that, we leave the shop and the crowd without regret. It's already mid-afternoon, and I still need to find a gift for Arthur. Most importantly, I need a way to slip away from Ewald.
I'm thinking of gifting him books by Pierre Botterot for Christmas; that will change him from his Wizarding readings, and I wonder if the book stores here would be willing to order Muggle books. The best way to find out is to ask, I suppose. So I ask Ewald if he knows a good book store where I could order some reading material, and we take a small parallel alley to reach a medium-sized shop. There are fewer people than in the popular stores on the main street, but you can't say that the book store is quiet. Unable to help myself, I start wandering through the aisles. The ground floor has a "stationery" section, and I can't resist the allure of the notebooks. Because there are notebooks similar to those I know from the Muggle world, alongside the usual quills and rolls of parchment. A salesman, having noticed my interest, approaches me.
"Hello, miss. You have a good eye! These booklets will serve you better than a grimoire; the design is inspired by the Muggle world, with a few improvements, of course!"
Ewald cowardly abandons me to head toward the educational books section a little further away as soon as the salesman starts his spiel. However, I don't delude myself; he must be keeping an eye on me. By the time I think this, my interlocutor has already pulled a notebook from the shelves to show me. I can't help but wear a slightly surprised expression.
"Aha! You're a Muggle born, I imagine. Yes, we've decided to enhance the covers of our books with magical decorations! This one is for Christmas, but we have a wide range of animated images, and we can even create custom designs!"
The cover of the notebook is dark grey, and silver snowflakes gently dance across it. It's beautiful.
"And that's not all," the salesman continues. "The booklets are enchanted so that the pages you tear out are replaced by new ones! What do you think?"
"I really like it," I admit, pleased to finally get a word in. "Do you have one with a starry sky design?"
"Certainly, certainly!"
The eager salesman casts an Accio charm and hands me a new notebook. The stars gently twinkle against a black ink background, and occasionally, a shooting star briefly appears, crossing the cover of the book.
"Do you like this one?"
"Yes, I think I'll take it." After a moment's thought, I ask, "And what would you recommend for a seventh-year Hufflepuff?"
"What kind of things does he like?"
"Well… he wants to become a Healer, he enjoys board games like Dominaris, I don't know if you're familiar with it, and…"
"Don't say any more! I know exactly what you need!"
Once again, the man waves his wand, and several notebooks float out of their places.
"Here are different animated illustrations of Dominaris cards. I'll let you see which one will suit your friend best!"
"Thank you very much."
The salesman bows with a smile, and I remember the gift I want to get for Ewald. I ask him if it would be possible to order Muggle books, and he invites me to join him upstairs to prepare an order form as soon as I've chosen my notebook. While I make my choice, he goes to assist another customer a few steps away. I eventually decide on the only illustration I recognise, a card I've seen one of the boys play with. I wonder if a notebook like that would please Ewald. Speaking of him, I look for him. I haven't seen him for a little while. He's about five metres away, engrossed in a book. Perhaps sensing that I'm watching him, he looks up. When he meets my gaze, he sets his book down and comes over.
"Are you finding what you're looking for?"
"Yes... Look, do you think Arthur will like this?"
"A notebook with the Dragonlance Nurse? Absolutely! I don't know what he'll write in it, but just with the cover, he'll be pleased."
"Great," I smile. "I just need to sort something out with the salesman, but you're not allowed to listen; it's for your gift!"
"You don't have to get me anything, you know?"
"I know," I reply, sticking my tongue out at him playfully before going back to the salesman.
He gestures for me to follow him, and we walk across the shop to head upstairs. As I place my foot on the first step of the staircase, Ewald brushes against my mind.
"If there's anything, just let me know, alright?"
"Don't worry..." I reply in a similar tone. "It shouldn't take more than about ten minutes, I hope." I add, to reassure him.
In fact, it's sorted in two minutes, and I ask to have my order delivered to the manor. The salesman also offers to send my brand-new notebooks there as well, and I gladly accept. All my purchases have taken a good chunk of my fortune. However, I still have one Galleon left in my pocket, and I ask the salesman:
"I have one last favour to ask you; it's a bit unusual…"
"I'm listening."
"I'd like to quickly buy a gift for my friend downstairs, across the street. But I want it to be a surprise. Is there another exit I could use? And could you cover for me while I make my purchase? It won't take long."
The salesman scratches his head, looking a bit embarrassed.
"Well, there is an exit, but it's reserved for employees. And I have a lot of work. Can't you ask someone else to do this purchase for you?"
Quickly, Vivian. Improvise.
"I would have been happy to, but I know exactly what I want. Does this seem like enough pay for ten minutes of work?"
I pull out the Galleon given to me by Ewald's mother from my pocket. Honestly, I feel a bit uncomfortable; it's the first time I've tried to bribe someone. The salesman's eyes widen a little. Is it too much? But I don't have time to think; Ewald could come up to see what I'm doing any moment now.
"Uh, well, I suppose so…"
I can clearly see the moment in his gaze when greed overtakes his natural instinct to prevent a kid from being scammed.
"Follow me, Miss."
The man leads me into a small storeroom on the upper floor that has a staircase leading to a service corridor. I give him his coin, advising him to tell Ewald that he showed me to the toilets or something like that. Then, he points me to a door, and a second later, I'm out in the street.
oOo
I only lose a second or two orienting myself. Fortunately, I paid attention to the route we took to get here, and I know where to find the exit to Diagon Alley. My plan is simple. Leave the Wizarding world, catch the first bus or tube I can find so Ewald can't follow me (he doesn't have his Apparition licence yet), and then, when I reach a quiet place, I can finally end it all. As much as possible, I'd like to avoid doing it in public (for modesty's sake, not just to make sure I won't be stopped). But if I have no choice, I won't hesitate.
As soon as I've got my bearings, I start running towards the exit. I try not to jostle people too much, but my haste takes precedence over cautious considerations. No one finds a running child suspicious. I arrive at the bar that marks the boundary between the worlds, a bit breathless. I've only been running for a few minutes, but I ran fast. The barman gives me a look of suspicion but doesn't ask me anything. And finally, I'm out. Camden Town opens up before me, but I keep my priority in mind. I've passed through here a few times in my childhood to slip into the Wizarding world. I think I know where to find a bus stop.
My memories are a bit hazy, but I finally emerge from the labyrinth of half underground alleys that is Camden Town to join a larger avenue. I hope the bus doesn't take long. I'm nervous, looking around me often; fortunately, there are too many people around for anyone to pay attention to me. Impatient, I ask an elderly lady when the next bus will arrive. She replies with a pinched expression that it's already five minutes late. I thank her politely. Here, just like on Diagon Alley, people are preparing to celebrate Christmas. Many arms are burdened with last-minute purchases. All this movement stresses me even more. I discreetly cut myself to pass the time. As deeply as I can and dare, vertically, on my forearms. I can't afford to slice through a tendon, though. I need my arms to be functional to slice my throat. Ewald probably knows I've disappeared by now. I doubt the salesman helped me gain much more than a few minutes. At the same time, I was quick enough, and how will he find me in this crowd? I don't know. But I remember that he has found me several times, as well as Arthur, when he shouldn't have. And I still don't know how he did it. So, I continue to scan the crowd anxiously.
I was right to be wary because I soon see a boy who looks like Ewald. He begins to cross a bridge that leads to my side of the street from Camden Town. I took the same path to get here. The boy not only resembles Ewald; it is him. He seems to know where he's going. At that moment, a certain calm descends on me.
"Stop!" I mentally scream at him.
I didn't want to do this. I didn't want to die in public, especially not in front of him when I know he will suffer. He freezes. As if alerted by some mysterious sense, he turns towards me. He must still be about fifty meters away; he hasn't finished crossing the bridge. His mind touches mine, seeking contact. I block him. I need to act before he stops me, and it's no longer time to discuss. He can't afford to cast a spell while we're in the midst of Muggles. And even if he did, he wouldn't easily be able to reach me. I frantically scan the traffic in front of me. The cars are moving quite fast here. I spot an approaching lorry. It's going to pass on the right side. I take a quick glance at Ewald. He has stopped and is staring at me. For added safety, I slip behind a tall man, preparing to sprint. I need to have perfect timing.
At that moment, a sharp pain pierces my skull, and I let out a groan despite myself.
"If you do what you're thinking about, I'll jump."
Ewald's telepathic voice echoes in my mind, dead serious. My head still hurts, even though I try to hide it so as not to attract the attention of the people around me. Has he forced our connection to open? Has he dared? The truck passes. Rage swells within me, but Ewald's words are suddenly absorbed by my consciousness. I turn sharply in his direction. He's still on the bridge, looking at me without moving.
"What nonsense are you talking about?" I ask painfully.
As soon as I accept the connection, my headache eases a little, although I still feel sore.
"Nothing more than what I just said. A life for a life. If you commit suicide, I'll die too."
"You won't do that."
As if Ewald would actually kill himself. It's just a threat to scare me. He would never dare.
"Are you sure you want to risk it?"
His tone is still cold and serious. There are too many people who care about him. He has a future. He's always cautious, looking out for others and for himself. He won't jump. I try to probe his mind a bit more. He allows me to feel, through our connection, his resolve, and I also sense a hint of panic. Panic that I'm not falling for his bluff? Panic about losing me? I don't know.
"It's your choice, Vivian."
"You don't have the right!" I explode.
I feel helpless. I want to die; I need to, and I don't think he'll jump, but… I'm not sure. Not one hundred percent sure. At this moment, I hate him with a burning rage filled with anger over the injustice done to me. Being deprived of my purpose again. Why do I always have to care about something? Why can't I be selfish and die? I know that if I do, he will suffer. But he has other friends, other people in his life, much better than me… He's not going to jump. I refuse to believe it. I move closer to the boulevard. Another truck is approaching. He won't jump. Just a few more seconds, and it will be time to jump in front of the truck. I look at Ewald. My blood runs cold. He's sitting on the railing, his back to the void. The people around him look a bit worried, but by positioning himself like that, he doesn't seem ready to let himself fall. It's clever.
"I can't let you die. If I did, I wouldn't be worth anything as a friend. Dying then would be an appropriate punishment, don't you think? Make your choice, Vivian."
The truck is approaching. It's now or never. It's moving fast. I step closer.
Its horn blares as it passes me, sending a powerful wave of wind my way. Adrenaline courses through my veins. I can't do it.
I take a step back. A woman looks at me with concern. To stop her from staring, I turn away. I fix my gaze on the bridge, towards Ewald, who is still waiting, back to the void. I run towards him, urging him to stop this, to come down. Finally, I reach him, and he steps down from the railing. He's pale, but he looks relieved. He takes my hand. I don't refuse the contact, my heartbeat calming a bit now that he's no longer in danger. I'm still angry at him. He didn't give me a choice.
"We're going home."
Those are the only words he offers, and his voice seems to tremble slightly. I don't bother to respond, knowing it's not a question. But what's going to happen now?
oOo
"The silence is both poison and pride for me. The silence that permeates my actions, rendering me mute, but the silence that gives me strength and pride. The pride of saying that I've endured. That I am strong. That I manage on my own. I'm standing on my own. The silence, the secret, the wounds. The silence that never settles in my mind while my tongue remains inert and my blades carve their fiery paths. The silence and the hatred. The silence and the suffering. The suffering and the hardness that forge me, a broken blade. A stifled tear too. In the silence."
—Text found on a USB belonging to Aurore Berger, bequeathed to Quentin Lemage after her death.
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I mention Pierre Bottero's work in this chapter. He wrote great books, but unfortunately only The Quest of Ewilan has been translated to English apparently. Still, I highly recommand it. That's the very book series which made me love heroic fantasy!