Here's a new chapter!
Not that it feels like anyone reads this, since I never receive any reviews (yeah, just complaining real quick) but I wanted to let you know that the next updates will probably come way more slowly until December. I'm travelling to Japan and will be pretty busy having fun there.

Enjoy, and see you at some point!

"Vivian? Wake up, it's Christmas."
Ewald's voice gently pulls me from my sleep. He's standing next to my bed, looking a bit apologetic for waking me. I suddenly realise that he's really there and sit up abruptly. At least he had the decency not to touch me to wake me. Still, I sit up quickly—a long-standing habit.
"Sorry to wake you, but it's nearly ten o'clock, and it would be good if you had an appetite for lunch."
Indeed, I never feel hungry when I wake up, and I probably could have slept much longer after yesterday's emotions. Nevertheless, I don't comment on it to Ewald. I don't know when he finally fell asleep, but I imagine he woke up early. And since it seems like I've lived long enough to endure another Christmas, I should probably check that my gifts are ready.
"We're having dinner at Arthur's tonight, right?" I ask, just to confirm.
"Yes..." Ewald replies, running a hand through his hair, looking vaguely concerned. I wonder if it's because of his mother. "But for lunch, it'll just be us, my mother, and my grandmother."
"Alright. I hope I wasn't supposed to buy them a gift?" I ask, half-worried.
"Don't worry, I don't think they're expecting anything."
"Good," I reply, one less thing to worry about, I suppose.

Not that I plan on living long enough for their potential disappointment to really bother me, but still. I try to be polite now and then.
"Do you want to do anything specific while we wait for lunch?" Ewald asks.
"I suppose 'dying' isn't a valid answer?" I retort, unable to help myself. "Not really," I add before he can react. "I'd like to check if the things I ordered have arrived, but other than that, I'm not sure."
"Alright, we'll start with that then," my friend replies, ignoring my provocation, before summoning Jamy.
"Can you confirm for Vivian that her orders have been received, and follow her instructions if there's anything to pack or send?"
"Right away, master," the creature replies obediently.
"I'll leave you two to check that, I'll be in the library when you're done."
The house elf bows, and my companion leaves with a slight smile on his lips. Once he's closed the door behind him, Jamy makes the gifts I chose yesterday appear, one by one, and I'm pleased to see that they're all there. I tell him who each item is for, and he assures me he'll handle the deliveries. I tell him I'd like to wrap them first, and he offers to do it, but I refuse. It's something I like to do myself, even though I'm not particularly good at it. Jamy brings me everything I need to wrap the gifts, and I set to work, taking the time to slip a small personalised note into each one.

Once my work is finished, I tell the elf which parcels to send, deciding that Arthur's gift will be given to him when he joins us. That way, I'll see his reaction. I hand Jamy back his tools (reluctantly when it comes to the scissors), and after he makes all traces of my presents disappear, he takes me to join Ewald. I don't feel like staying indoors; I'm feeling anxious. So, we head out into the garden, and Ewald offers to show me a spell to make snowballs. I enthusiastically accept his suggestion, and we return to the spot where we trained the other day. He hands me my wand, which I take with relief. Feeling the magic flowing through me again, stronger, is comforting. I wouldn't mind a duel, to be honest, to let off some steam. Instead, I listen carefully to my friend's explanations and watch his wand movements before trying to imitate him.
The spell is actually quite simple, and the wand movement is a fun one—horizontal loops from right to left. However, I quickly learn that to make a nice snowball, the loops need to be of equal size. Once I manage to get somewhat decent results, Ewald suggests trying to manipulate them using a Wingardium Leviosa. It's a spell I've practised before, so lifting a snowball isn't difficult. Ewald raises the challenge by asking me to make the snowball follow complex paths, then to lift several at once. I'll be honest, it's not a great success, but the challenge keeps my mind occupied, which might have been Ewald's goal.
Finally, as lunchtime approaches, he gives me a demonstration of the practical use of what he's just shown me—applied to sniping. He conjures glowing targets on a tree and has fun aiming for the centre with snowballs. They shoot out like cannonballs. I can immediately see how useful mastering these spells would be in a snowball fight, though at that speed it would probably resemble paintball more than anything.
My friend quickly cuts short his demonstration, as it's nearly time to eat. He explains that he wants to change before Christmas lunch.
"I'm not sure I have anything suitable to wear…" I sigh.
"Don't worry too much about formality. If you wear wizarding robes, that should be enough," Ewald smiles.

I do note, however, that this implies my Muggle clothes wouldn't be ideal. I grimace internally. Robes aren't exactly practical. Still, I'm staying with wizards, so I adapt and head to my room to change too, staying in telepathic contact with Ewald, who's already taken back my wand.
It quickly becomes clear that the only wizarding outfits I own are my school clothes. At least they're black. I put on my uniform, swapping the shirt for a comfortable t-shirt and ditching my tie without regret. Instead, I wear my favourite scarf. Then I glance at my reflection in a mirror I found in one of the drawers of my room's dresser. I suppose it'll do. On second thought, maybe I should've worn Muggle clothes—perhaps, by some stroke of luck, the grandmother would have killed me…

oOo

I meet Ewald on the landing. He's now wearing a very stylish layering of black and green robes. I think there's a spell on the green robe to make it shimmer. We go downstairs together to join the rest of his family, who have gathered in the dining room to celebrate Christmas. I don't feel entirely comfortable—celebrating Christmas with strangers… Ewald might not be a one, but the context is unusual. It's one thing to visit a friend (and even that feels weird, not to mention the complete lack of consideration for my opinion on the matter). It's quite another to celebrate a traditionally family-oriented holiday with someone you've only known for a few months and their family you've only met a few days ago. Still… We enter the dining room, and I'm glad I made the effort to change outfits.

oOo

The house-elves, no doubt, have decorated the room, and the result is impressive. Like at Hogwarts in the movies, there are candles floating at various heights, bathing the room in a soft light. A beautiful green tablecloth with red ornaments is laid on the table. The dishes seem to be made of crystal, sparkling in the candlelight. The air smells of cinnamon, though I can't determine where the scent is coming from.
Ewald's mother is wearing a red Wizarding robe, with small golden stars swirling around like snowflakes. His grandmother has traded her usual black robes for a sumptuous ball gown with a distinctly Wizarding cut. Where her daughter is dressed in red, she is in a deep green, accented with silver threads and decorated with a stream of small emeralds. So this is what celebrating Christmas with pure-bloods is like? I am clearly not dressed well enough for this, yet at the same time, I can't imagine feeling comfortable in such an outfit. I almost feel ashamed of my clothes, though that feeling quickly fades to a slight discomfort in the back of my mind. I sit next to Ewald, and thankfully, no one comments on my outfit. On the contrary, Ewald's grandmother gives a small approving look, and silver snowflakes appear on my robes without anyone casting a spell or drawing their wand.
The meal takes place in a formal but kind atmosphere. I stick to polite responses when spoken to and ask a few questions at strategic moments. I don't feel entirely comfortable, and I fear it will be worse this evening. The mere presence of Ewald's grandmother completely changes the atmosphere. My questions mostly revolve around natural magic, and I learn that Muggle lithotherapy, which I've never believed in, does indeed come from somewhere real.
The food is delicious, with flavours that sometimes surprise me, and I savour the meal as much as possible, given that I'm feeling both depressed and uncomfortable. For dessert, I see a crystal cake arrive, and Ewald doesn't miss the smile that escapes me. He lightly touches my mind, sending a small wave of cheerfulness. Like everything else, the cake is delicious, and Ewald's mother timidly asks, noticing how eagerly I'm eating:
"Do you like crystal cake, Vivian?"
"I love it!" I reply with a smile. "I think it's even better than the one I had yesterday."
Ewald's mother blushes slightly, and her mother speaks up:
"It's one of Rosemary's specialities, and the only task she never delegates to the house-elves for the Christmas meal. Rightly so," the older woman says with a smile in her voice.
This time, Ewald's mother blushes even more deeply.
"That's because I had an excellent teacher."
Her mother smiles tenderly, and for the first time since the meal began, the unease caused by her presence starts to lift. Her expression fades quickly, replaced by a more severe look, but that glimpse has lightened the atmosphere for good.

Once the last crumbs of crystal cake are gone (I would have gladly helped myself to another serving or two if I hadn't been worried about breaching etiquette), Ewald's grandmother stands, signalling the end of the meal.
"We will now proceed with the Yule ceremony before opening the gifts. Young lady, you may join us, but I must ask that you remain still so as not to disrupt the rites."
I nod obediently, though her words sting. I know how to behave, and I'm not stupid! Nevertheless, my curiosity keeps me from expressing my irritation. I want to see what will happen.
"It's a great honour she's offering you," Ewald tells me mentally, and I sense a hint of surprise in his thought. I don't respond, but I take note of his words.

oOo

I follow my hosts down the corridors until we reach the emerald's grotto that had caught my attention during my tour of the manor. Ewald's grandmother places her wand in a small stone dish at the entrance that I hadn't noticed before, followed by her daughter and Ewald. He discreetly hands me mine, and I mimic them, then step inside after them. Ewald's grandmother positions herself behind the emerald receptacle, while her daughter stands opposite her. They join hands. Ewald remains in the background, and I follow his example. I briefly consider taking a cushion but decide not to push my luck.
Silence emerges from our stillness and settles between us for a few moments before Ewald's grandmother begins a whispered chant with a rough, earthy tone. After a brief time, her daughter joins in, following the same melody but at a higher pitch. Their voices grow in strength, with Ewald's mother embellishing her part with trills that remind me of nature in springtime. The emerald begins to pulse softly in time with the music, emitting a pale green glow. Now the two singers alternate, the younger's high voice responding to her mother's ancient one, forming a dialogue that is incomprehensible to me as the language they use is unfamiliar.
Finally, they release each other's hands, and their song ends on a long, resonant note, which they sustain while raising their arms towards the ceiling of the cave. Then, they slowly lower their arms and heads, adopting a posture of reverence.
For a moment, I think the ceremony is over, but Ewald's grandmother moves slowly towards the wall opposite the entrance and pulls aside a curtain of ivy, revealing a small niche carved into the stone. She retrieves a dark stone bowl and a slender dagger, the blade of which seems to radiate its own light. It casts delicate reflections on the walls of the grotto, like sunlight dancing on water. As she approaches, I see that the bowl is half-filled with earth. Returning to the centre of the room, she lifts it towards the ceiling before presenting it to her daughter. She takes it and moves to the left side of the room, where she carefully gathers a pinch of moss from the wall and places it gently in the centre of the bowl. Her mother has taken on a solemn expression and begins to sing softly again, her voice deep and ancient.

Ewald's mother then moves to the other side of the room and reveals another niche hidden behind the ivy. A faint trickling sound can be heard. A small spring flows here. Ewald's mother places the bowl under the spring and fills it until the water reaches the moss. Then, she returns to face her mother. In her turn, she begins to sing, while the elder falls silent and holds out the knife to her daughter, above the emerald. She then grasps it with her left hand and traces the tip of the blade across her palm, drawing a rune that I do not recognise. The urge to cut myself stirs within me at the sight. She holds her hand over the bowl, which her daughter is still holding, and lets a drop of blood fall into it as she begins to sing again. The emerald pulses once more, and Ewald's grandmother places her wounded palm upon it. Ewald's mother holds the bowl above her mother's hand, and I suddenly see a crimson stain spreading in the centre of the moss, giving birth to a deep red flower. The voices of the two women merge one final time into a long vibrating note, and then silence falls.
Ewald's mother hands the bowl to her mother, who takes it respectfully. I notice that her palm is healed. She moves towards the first alcove where she ceremoniously places the bowl. The emerald has stopped emitting light. Still in silence, the two women approach us, and Ewald motions for me to follow. We leave the room, collecting our wands as we pass, followed by Ewald's mother, and then his grandmother. We walk back up to the dining room in silence, and I still don't fully understand what I've just witnessed. However, I dare not ask any questions, feeling that it's not the right moment. The two women enter the lounge first, and Ewald holds out his hand, as though waiting for something. I grimace, but hand him my wand. I'd rather avoid the adults questioning what's going on.

oOo

The house elves have been busy while we were occupied. A Christmas tree now stands in place of the table, and there's a small pile of gifts beneath it. The packages shimmer, and one even looks like a starry sky. It's beautiful. Following the adults' example, we settle into the comfortable armchairs gathered around the tree. I feel uncomfortable again, though the environment, more familiar than the emerald cave, gives me some bearings. The only person in the room I truly feel at ease with (and even then, only somewhat) is Ewald. The others are strangers. And here I am, celebrating Christmas with them... Well.
Ewald's grandmother suggests we open the gifts, smiling kindly, and I feel like I'm witnessing something as intimate as the Yule ceremony, even though it's just an expression on her face. She claps her hands once, and a house-elf appears. He takes charge of distributing the presents to their recipients. I'm surprised to receive four packages, including the one with the wrapping I liked so much, the one that looked like the starry sky.

I open the largest package first. It's soft and wrapped in dark green paper. Inside, there's a witch's robe and a matching cloak, of incredible quality. I look up, surprised, and meet Ewald's gaze. He shakes his head, indicating it's not from him. So, it's from his mother? There's no note inside. I unfold the clothes. They're emerald green, and the fabric is both fluid, silky, and warm. I think I've never owned clothes so well-tailored, and I say that with my complete lack of expertise on the matter.
"You should try them on, young lady." I almost jump, startled by Ewald's grandmother's suggestion.

"There's a bathroom across the hall, third door on the right as you leave," Rosemary smiles at me.

"Alright, I'll go," I respond, a bit flustered.
I quickly change, and I'm hit with conflicting feelings. On one hand, the robe is one of the most comfortable and undoubtedly the most sumptuous I've ever worn. It fits me perfectly. And, as I see in the mirror, I look great in it. The colour echoes my eyes, and it feels like the robe was made for me. Which might very well be the case, though I don't understand why Ewald's mother would spend so much on me. At the same time, I feel uncomfortable. Not just because of the cost, but also because even in the Wizarding world, where it's more common, I only wear dresses when absolutely necessary. I hate them, and they make me feel uneasy. Although, yes, it's less of a problem in a magical setting, and fortunately, this one has a distinctly witch-like cut, rather than a "princess" style. I like the cloak more, though it's less striking. It's warm, comfortable, and the hood, once pulled down, effortlessly hides my face. Yet, even though it's quite understated, you can still feel its quality in the silk cord that ties it around my shoulders and the few embroidered ornaments that adorn it. Once again, I wonder why so much money was spent on me. I'm just a kid Ewald's mother has only just met, even if I'm friends with her son.
"Everything alright?" Ewald's thought pulls me from my reflections. "My family is eager to see how it looks."

I groan internally. I send a mental "I'm coming..." to Ewald before gathering my clothes and tucking them under my arm, feeling awkward. I feel like I'm in costume.

I slip into the living room, feeling embarrassed, and I'm greeted by a:

"You look very pretty!" from Ewald's mother.

The compliment doesn't help me feel any more at ease. My friend confirms his mother's opinion with a nod, and I catch a satisfied smile on his grandmother's lips before she speaks. Definitely a top ten cringe moment for me.

"Well, I see with satisfaction that you will present yourself in an outfit worthy of the Clifford dinner table this evening."

I blush despite myself, as a growing sense of shame takes over my mind. I already knew my clothes didn't belong in their manor. A twinge of anger starts to rise in me, born from the shame. I'm not some rich pure-blood, and she didn't need to rub it in.
Ewald's mother must sense my mood because she steps in:

"Please don't see any insult in my mother's words. We bought this outfit to help you feel more comfortable moving in our circles, not to humiliate you."

"Indeed," Ewald's grandmother says, nodding in agreement with her daughter's words.

I force a smile that might suggest I believe them, though I'm unsure what to think. The genuine smile Ewald's mother gives me softens my wariness a little. She asks enthusiastically:

"So, do you like it?

"I love the colour," I reply sincerely. "I'm not keen on wearing dresses, but it's good to know I have something to wear for special occasions. Thank you very much for such a sumptuous gift!" I bite my lip.

Mentioning my dislike for dresses was probably a diplomatic misstep, but too late now.

"That's great to hear!" she smiles. I feel a bit awkward about having nothing to give in return.
As I return to my seat to open my second gift, a flurry of snowflakes begins to swirl around my robe, and I see Ewald's grandmother wearing a satisfied smile at my delighted surprise.

"My grandson will teach you this spell if you wish; I'm certain you'll be able to master it. Every self-respecting wizard knows how to embellish their festive clothing."

Once again, she manages to sound almost insulting while trying to be kind (or at least, I think that was her intention). I don't take offence. I don't know how difficult this spell is for a first-year, so I'm not sure how flattering it is that she thinks I can learn it, but it still makes me happy.

I try not to wrinkle my new clothes as I sit down. Before opening my second gift, I take off the cloak—it's surprisingly warm. I take a moment to glance around and see where the others are with their presents. Ewald's grandmother is admiring a glass sphere that seems to contain a miniature universe, filled with greenery and nature. I'm intrigued, but I don't want to draw any more attention to myself for now. Ewald's mother is unwrapping a lovely pale pink scarf that looks perfectly silky. As for my friend, he's just opened a set of small pouches that seem to contain various herbs, along with a rather old-looking book. Potion ingredients?
Anyway, I still have three more presents to open, so I get back to it. The next one is artfully wrapped in silver paper and is quite small. The little note attached reveals the identity of its sender: Scorpius. He wishes me a Merry Christmas and, in a postscript, asks if I'm spending Christmas at the Slides' place. I wonder about Ewald's family's reputation and their relationship with the Malfoys. What's certain is that Ewald has met Draco several times. Draco even called him "Lord Slide." So my friend is the head of his family? Considering what I learned yesterday, it's not all that surprising, but what's his grandmother's role in that case?
I decide to worry about that later and finish unwrapping the gift. Scorpius has given me a beautifully crafted wooden box, inside of which I find an assortment of luxury Wizarding chocolates. There's also a small case containing a delicate silver bracelet with a glowing red stone. I would have thought it was garnet, if it weren't for the glow that seems to come from within the crystal. I grimace inwardly. I don't like jewellery, and it's always awkward when people give it to me. I don't want to offend anyone, but I really don't want to wear it. Anyway, the piece is beautiful, despite everything. Luckily, the chocolates are much more appealing, and that part of the gift genuinely makes me happy. I'm glad I thought to get him a present, it would've been a bit awkward otherwise. Though, I'm not sure Scorpius will avoid embarrassment if he opens my gift in front of his parents… Draco's good opinion of me might take a hit. These things happen.
I move on to the next package. It's less neatly wrapped and comes from Alphonse. When did he find time for this with his trip to France? Inside, I find a pack of Ice Tea cans, which fills me with joy—I miss them since they don't have them in England. It touches me that Al remembered. There's also a note, which I read silently.

"Hey Viv'!
Just so you know, I'm working on a surprise for you, so you better not have any 'accidents' before we meet again!
I guarantee it'll be worth it!
Merry Christmas,
Al'"
I tense up a bit after reading the note. I don't like how openly he hints at my plans—who knows who might come across it? Though, I suppose it bothers him a lot less than it does me if they get discovered... I promise myself to destroy the note as soon as possible. I sense a questioning touch from Ewald's mind against mine, and I simply shrug. Maybe I'll show him the message later, to see if he has any idea what the mysterious surprise Alphonse is planning might be. I doubt it's as incredible as Al' claims.
I've only got the starry-wrapped gift left to open, and I wonder who it's from. Ewald or Arthur? Those are the only two possibilities. Given that Ewald is likely still upset with me about yesterday, and since he's already hosting me, it would make sense if he didn't give me anything. I don't have time to start unwrapping it to find out, because Ewald's voice pulls me from my thoughts.
"Thank you very much, Vivian!"
I turn towards him. He's unwrapped my gift, and the Pierre Botterot books are now keeping company with the first three volumes of my favourite series, "The Farseer Trilogy," on the corner of the table in front of my friend. His mother's eyes widen in surprise at the number of books, and even his grandmother raises an intrigued eyebrow. Okay, maybe I went a little overboard. Then again, once I'm gone, I won't need my money, and I really want Ewald to discover these amazing books. I smile at him before gently opening my last present. The others are also nearly done with theirs, and I'd prefer not to have everyone watching me unwrap my final gift.

As soon as the wrapping tears, I realize I was wrong. The gift is from Ewald. Inside, there are various items. First, I recognize the lotion that creates stars in your hair, the one I had noticed the day before, along with a bottle of ink where silver swirls form at the slightest movement. There's also a piece of crystal cake, beautifully wrapped, and even though we just finished eating, my stomach twists with hunger. Finally, at the bottom of the package, there's a small photo album, barely larger than my hand, with a starry cover. Tucked into the cover is a small envelope, which I don't open. Not in front of all these people. I decide to save the photo album discovery for later, too, as I see Ewald has just finished opening his last gift.
"Thank you all," my friend smiles.

"Thank you too," his mother replies warmly. "I really like this scarf."

I assume she's referring to the beautiful violet silk scarf she's holding. It looks incredibly light and delicate, and I can make out intricate embroidered patterns all over it.

"I also thank you," adds Ewald's grandmother. "I think I'll ask Jamy to prepare some tea for me. Will you have some too, Rosemary?"

"With pleasure," her daughter responds.

Before I have the chance to tell Ewald that I'd like to leave, he stands up and says,

"I think Vivian and I will take our leave until it's time to head to the Cliffords."

"Of course," Ewald's mother smiles. "We'll leave in three hours."
Once we're upstairs, Ewald asks how I'm doing. I shrug. Like someone being kept from dying? I imagine that wouldn't be an appropriate response. Instead, I simply say,

"I'm fine. The natural magic was interesting, even if I didn't fully understand it. Was it some sort of rebirth ritual?"

My friend raises an impressed eyebrow.

"Partly, yes. I didn't think you'd figure that out so easily."

"I'm used to being underestimated," I sigh, half-serious, half-joking.
Ewald raises an eyebrow and gives me more details about the ritual as we settle in my room. He brought the books I gifted him, and once he finishes his explanation, he picks up the first volume of The Quest of Ewilan to start reading. However, he pauses before opening the book, letting it rest on his lap.

"They didn't mean any harm, you know?"

"Huh?" I respond, oh-so-eloquently.

"My grandmother and my mother. They didn't give you those clothes to humiliate you, really. It was actually my grandmother's idea. She thought you didn't have any Wizarding clothes besides your school uniforms and talked to my mother about it. Then they figured they'd give you some for Christmas to make things easier for you in our world."

"That's what they said earlier," I sigh.

"For my grandmother to do that, you must have really made a good impression," Ewald adds.

I feel like it's really important to him that I understand, that I'm not offended. And honestly, I'm not, not any more. His mother might have played the diplomacy card, but I trust Ewald enough to be honest with me. I look at him for a few moments, trying to convince myself of his sincerity, and I respond with a grimace laced with humour:

"I'm glad to hear your grandmother likes me, even though I'm not sure what I did to deserve such an honour."

My companion smiles but doesn't reply. I guess I'll never know. I mentally shrug it off. It's not important right now. A concern crosses my mind:

"Are there any etiquette rules I should know about before meeting Arthur's family?"

In all honesty, it's probably too late to make a good impression since we've already met when I was six years old, but as long as I have the right clothes, I might as well pretend.

"There's not much you need to know. They know you're Muggle-born, which spares you any of the pure-blood formalities. As long as you behave like you've been doing with my family, you won't offend anyone. You could call Arthur's mother 'Lady Clifford' if you want to be formal, and address his grandmother as 'Lady Brightfield.'"

"That's Arthur's maternal side?" I ask, realizing I no longer remember what I called her during my brief stay with them a few years ago.

"That's right. Her family is as old as my grandmother's lineage, and they went to school together. If I remember correctly, they hated each other."

"Why?"

"I'm not exactly sure. Grandmother didn't tell me much, but from what I understand, they had some disagreements."
I don't ask any further questions, thinking that seeing the two matriarchs interact could be instructive. Since I don't react, Ewald eventually opens the book he's holding and begins to read. I keep my irritation at not being left alone to myself and lie down on my bed to doodle in my starry notebook while waiting for dinner time.
After a while, I remember the photo album that the Slytherin gave me, but I feel a bit uncomfortable thinking about opening it in his presence and discovering what he might have written. I decide I'll look at it tonight, when I'm alone. My thoughts then drift to Al's note and his mysterious surprise… I'm not sure whether I should be excited or cautious. I doodle absent-mindedly in my notebook, unable to come up with any satisfying theories. I don't feel like asking Ewald's opinion, partly because of my irritation with his constant watching over me.

oOo

Half an hour before the set time for departure, we begin getting ready. I put on the beautiful gifts I received from Ewald's family again, and he casts a spell to style my hair when he sees the result. I'm glad I brought my Hogwarts uniform shoes; my mud-covered sneakers would have ruined the overall effect. The Slytherin has kept the outfit he wore for lunch, but he's added an intricately crafted ring to his fingers. Noticing my gaze, he comments:

"The Slide signet ring."

I understand that he doesn't want to dwell on this symbol of his role as head of his father's house, so I don't ask any questions. As we head to the living room, a house-elf completes his attire with an elegant black top hat and a warm winter cape delicately embroidered in a green matching his clothes.
Soon, the women of his family make their appearance. I had imagined that his grandmother would stay here, and her presence makes me fear that the "intimate" dinner we're heading to will be more of a pure-blood social event. She, too, has kept her outfit from lunch, and wears the Carter family signet ring on her left hand (at least, I assume that's what it is). One of the house-elves hands her a small, silver lace veil hat, somewhat old-fashioned but in perfect harmony with the rest of her outfit.
It's Ewald's mother whose appearance has evolved the most since the meal. She's still wearing the same clothes, but now her attire evokes a real ceremonial outfit. Aside from me, I wonder if she's had the chance to dress this way in recent years, based on what Ewald has told me about her. My friend's falsely neutral expression tends to confirm my suspicions. Either way, if she's out of practice, she doesn't show it. A flaming red pendant highlights the paleness of her skin, and I have no doubt it's a real ruby. Without giving off a "too much" impression, it gracefully complements her festive ensemble. Her hair is styled intricately, with ruby-adorned hairpins holding it in place. She is beautiful, I think. I'm not great at judging such things, but I can certainly say that there's a certain harmony to her look. While the other two have donned headwear, she remains bare-headed, and soon her mother speaks up after scrutinizing us carefully.

"Well, since we're all ready, let's go. It's been ages since I've seen my dear Anna-Linde," she adds under her breath, "may the plague take her," before continuing aloud, "I'll go first, and Rosemary will follow me. Ewald, I'll leave you to escort your friend."

"Of course, Grandmother," Ewald agrees.

She looks at me and seems to hesitate as if wanting to add something, but then turns away and grabs a handful of Floo powder from the mantelpiece.

"Clifford Manor!" she declares before disappearing in a whirlwind of emerald flames.
Her daughter follows suit, leaving only Ewald and me in the room. I'm not quite sure how I feel about this evening, but it's time to go. My friend nobly offers me his arm, explaining:

"The fireplace is large; we'll go together."

Seeing my grimace, he adds,

"It's just for decorum, and I can help you keep your balance. I have more experience than you."

I'm not thrilled, but I don't make a fuss. Despite myself, his touch is somewhat comforting. We step toward the flames in unison, and Ewald shouts, "Clifford Manor!"

oOo

"Since my brother died, Christmas has never been the same. Before, my parents were together. Now, we have to go to my mother's, then celebrate with my father, making sure not to show favouritism to avoid tension, even though I often don't feel welcome. The rest of the family thinks of my brother when they see me, tells me I'm brave, speaks well of him... And every time, I think about how, in a way, I'm glad he's gone, and about the unspoken things, and what he did to me. I don't even remember the last time I didn't dread the holidays. Oh, sure, there are good moments, sometimes, but the silence only deepens the distance that was always there, rather than breaking it. Before, I could be more honest. Now, these celebrations are just pretences, occasionally pierced by a flash of genuine emotion."
—Letter sent by Aurore Berger to Quentin Lemage, early August 2007—

Hope you enjoyed the chapter, if you did the best way to support me is to leave a review, it's very motivating for me.

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