Hey,

If you enjoy this story, please just leave a review, even if it's just a thank you, that's very motivating to me.

Hope you'll enjoy this new chapter, which has a pretty light mood!

See you at the end :)

When we arrive at the manor, the adults quickly disappear after Ewald's mother welcomes Arthur and excuses herself, citing fatigue. We leave our shoes in the entrance, and while the others are talking, I manage to transfer the blade into my sock, pretending to be tidying my shoes.

Ewald shows Arthur to his room, located in the same corridor as ours. As expected, it's decorated in a shade of green (a paler hue than my room). The Hufflepuff lets out a sigh of contentment as he sits on the four-poster bed near the window. Ewald and I naturally take the two comfortable armchairs positioned near a coffee table. Despite feeling tired and a bit on edge, a calm, soothing atmosphere quickly settles in.

"Did you enjoy dinner?" Arthur asks, breaking the silence.

"It was… interesting," I say.

"I was glad to see Elwin again," Ewald smiles.

"The feeling was mutual, I think," replies Arthur. "What do you mean by 'interesting,' Vivian?"

"I could also have said 'informative.' Who'd have thought a future Healer wouldn't really know what a period is?"

Arthur's face instantly flushes a deep red, and I let out a chuckle before continuing.

"Apart from that amusing bit of trivia, I must admit it was your grandmothers who were the most entertaining. Are they always like that?"

"Oh, you should see them at the Wizengamot!" Ewald retorts, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "They always manage to exchange barbs, even when they're supporting the same bill. Though, I have to admit, that doesn't happen very often."

"My grandmother's taken me there once or twice, and it was mortifying for me. I don't have Ewald's knack for remaining impassive," Arthur groans. "Thankfully, I don't have to go often, since I'm not the heir."

The conversation then drifts to food and the start of our respective holidays until Arthur suddenly exclaims:

"Oh, by the way! I have gifts for you!"

He rummages through his trunk for a few seconds, and I catch a glimpse of clothes rolled into balls mixed with schoolbooks. It seems Hufflepuffs aren't necessarily the most organised. During this time, Ewald summons Jamy and asks him to fetch his gift for Arthur. I tell Jamy to bring mine as well, and the elf disappears for a few seconds before reappearing with our gifts in hand. By the time Arthur finishes his search, we're already prepared for the gift exchange. He hands us each a small package wrapped in red paper.

Mine contains a pretty vial of magical shower gel (apparently, it produces glowing soap bubbles when used) and a packet of plasters. I frown, slightly irritated by the message the latter conveys. Oblivious to my feelings, Arthur explains that they're coated with a mildly anaesthetic potion that helps wounds heal faster.

"That's really useful for people who get hurt without anyone around to cast a healing spell, or for slightly deeper wounds. Take care of yourself, okay, Vivian?"

Very subtle. I give him a hollow smile. It's lucky he didn't ask me what I thought of his gifts—he might not have liked the answer. I'm not a big fan of cosmetics, though at least the glowing bubbles could be fun. But the plasters? Really…

To Ewald, he gifted some rare potion ingredients along with a small enchanted notebook that can take "mental impressions" to recreate a drawn image the user imagines. That sounds incredibly cool, which only makes me more annoyed with my gift—even if it was well-intentioned. I feel a bit guilty for feeling this way, but I can't help it.

oOo

Arthur opens his gifts next, after watching us discover ours. From Ewald, he gets a rather elegant board game with coloured gems to move across a board, used to capture others or define territories. Apparently, it's some sort of mix between Go and Hnefatafl. He thanks his friend before finally unwrapping my gift. He lets out a small excited squeal upon seeing the notebook I bought him, and part of my irritation melts away in the face of his happiness.

"The Dragonlance nurse?! Oh, this is amazing! Thank you, Vivian, I love it!"

Well, after that, I'm obliged to sit through a five-minute explanation of her effects in Dominaris and all the cards she synergises with. But Arthur genuinely seems to love my gift, and it warms my heart.

At this point, Ewald slips away to say goodnight to his mother. I feel a bit awkward being left alone with Arthur. I haven't exactly been fair to him, and before my suicide attempt, he wouldn't even talk to me. Plus, I realised tonight how little I really know about him—I didn't even know he had a brother! Still, I don't get a chance to come up with an excuse to leave too, because he speaks up.

"I'm glad I finally got to meet Ewald's mother. She seems really nice."

"She is," I smile. "She's done her best to make me feel comfortable here."

"Unlike Lady Easton, am I wrong?"

The change of subject is a relief since I don't know exactly how much Arthur knows about Ewald's mother. I answer honestly:

"I don't really know how to deal with her."

"What do you mean?"

"Most of the time, it feels like my presence either doesn't matter to her or outright irritates her. But then she'll say something that could almost be a compliment, or she'll tell her daughter to give me pureblood clothes!"

Arthur chuckles a little, then takes on a more serious expression.

"Yeah, her behaviour surprised me a bit too. I haven't met her very often, but the only person I've ever heard her compliment before was Ewald—and never in his presence. Though, no offence, I think it was mostly to irritate my grandmother."

"That's the impression I got too," I sigh.

We sit in a slightly more comfortable silence for a few moments before I hesitantly ask:

"Are you close to your brother?"

Arthur looks a bit surprised, shrugs, and then answers:

"He's a lot older than me. We didn't spend much time together growing up since he was already at Hogwarts before I could even talk… But we've been talking more recently, and it's often really interesting! Why do you ask?"

"I didn't even know you had a brother."

I bite my lip, unsure if I want to say the rest, but I press on anyway:

"I've never really taken the time to get to know you."

And I truly mean it. A part of me feels guilty, even though I know why I avoided asking too many questions. We're supposed to be friends. Even when I was struggling in my past life, I made an effort to take an interest in those around me, although if it was also a way to divert attention from myself. But Arthur... I mostly treated him like an annoying insect.

"You've got your whole life to get to know me! It's not like I'm disappearing anytime soon… and neither are you!"

Any compassion I might have felt for Arthur melts away instantly. Can he not drop this? Still, I don't bother commenting—it wouldn't accomplish anything. He continues speaking after giving me a chance to respond.

"I don't talk about my brother very often anyway. Like I said, we hardly see each other. He's usually busy with his responsibilities as the heir. My father prefers to focus on managing the estates, and my mother delegates most of the family decisions to Elwin. He's good at it, and my grandmother is pushing him to achieve even more. The whole family wants to make him a great politician."

"That sounds like a lot of pressure, doesn't it?"

Arthur gives a small nervous laugh.

"Honestly, I don't know. I can't really imagine it, and I'm just glad it's him. He never complains, and I think he enjoys this. He's very ambitious. He was in Slytherin, like Grandmother."

"What does it mean for you, him being the heir? I'm not really familiar with pureblood customs."

I've been curious about this for a while now, wondering exactly what this role entails. Ewald, if I've understood correctly, is the heir to two wizarding families, which must have had a big impact on shaping him and probably explains a lot of his behaviour.

"Hmm… It mainly means I probably won't ever have to make any major decisions for the family, unless Elwin dies or delegates something to me. When he officially becomes Lord Clifford, he'll manage the family's wealth, though I'm still entitled to a share. I have the right to sit in the Wizengamot, but I can't vote on behalf of our family. That's a duty for him, although for now, my mother still casts the votes. And if I decide to marry Cian, I'll need his permission if our parents are no longer alive."

I must be frowning because he quickly adds:

"Don't worry—it's mostly symbolic nowadays, for show. Even if he refused, it wouldn't stop me from getting married! It's just tradition."

"You purebloods have a lot of more-or-less stupid traditions," I blurt out.

Arthur waves his arms defensively before a mischievous grin lights up his face.

"Good thing neither Lady Easton nor my grandmother are here. You'd drop severely in their esteem."

I chuckle but still throw one of Ewald's armchair cushions at him to shut him up.

oOo

That's the reason why, when the Slytherin finally enters the room, Arthur is curled up on his bed, laughing hysterically while I'm busy pummelling him with a pillow—apparently, the first one didn't teach him a lesson. Ewald raises a distinguished eyebrow at the scene, and I drop the pillow with an innocent expression. I must be really tired to have let myself go like that. Neither Arthur (who's struggling to compose himself) nor I comment on the scene, and Ewald decides not to try to make sense of it.

I take advantage of his arrival to go and take a shower. I suddenly remember how sleepy I am—and that I still have two blades hidden in strategic places. I discreetly discard the one that was in my pocket while grabbing clean clothes from my trunk. As for the second one, that's going to be trickier. I'm definitely being watched by a house-elf, and I can't afford to do anything suspicious. If Ewald even suspects I'm armed, he'll summon the blade with Accio, and that'll be the end of it. So, for now, I head to the bathroom with the blade still tucked in place. Of course, Ewald is waiting for me outside the door.

"You didn't have to abandon Arthur for me, you know?"

"I figured you'd prefer if I came alone," he replies.

Fair enough.

"I'd have preferred if you didn't come at all," I retort anyway.

"We can discuss your preferences the day I'm certain you'll survive your shower," Ewald says.

He says it without hostility, and I don't bother responding. I feel a pang of guilt about the blade pressed against my ankle, but at the same time, there's a certain pride in fooling him.

I shower quickly. My fatigue is growing, and I'm too aware of Ewald's presence. Our mental connection is open, as usual, and I try not to transmit too much of what I'm feeling to him. I'm still annoyed by Arthur's grandmother's comment about my lack of a wand, and there's a lingering sense of abandonment from earlier when I saw him talking with Arthur's brother without explaining anything to me.

I briefly consider cutting myself, but given my mood, I'm afraid I might overdo it. I'm not sure he wouldn't notice if I lost control. He's become far too perceptive about that kind of things for my liking. I can't risk losing my blades.

A bit belatedly, I remember that I'm supposed to leave my dirty clothes on the floor for the house-elves to take care of, and my pyjamas don't have any pockets. In desperation, I decide to hide the blade on my tongue after a few tests. I can still talk—it's just a bit risky. But less risky than trying to conceal it in my hand until I make it back to my room.

The walk to my room is, fortunately, silent. Ewald seems lost in thought, and I can't blame him. I wish I could say something—I'm sure he's thinking about his mother—but I don't know what to say. Besides, it would feel like provocation to hold a conversation while secretly hiding the blade. I like the idea. It appeals to the mad part of me, the part that finds all of this amusing, the part that has turned my self-destructive impulses into a game. But I won't play tonight.

Once in my room, I pretend I need to put away my gifts and slip the blade into my trunk. Ewald suggests joining Arthur, but I decline. They'll probably play Dominaris, which is not my idea of fun. I don't feel like talking either, though I have the nagging sense that I probably should talk to Ewald. Or even Arthur—there's so much left unsaid between us, and I've pushed him away so many times… But even if that stirs a faint sense of guilt, it's not the right time.

The Slytherin wishes me a good night and leaves me alone. I should be happy, but instead, I feel a sense of rejection, even though it's me who decided to withdraw, me who said nothing while he was taking time for me. Well, to monitor me, of course. But I'm self-aware enough to know it's my own actions that isolate me here.

oOo

I sleep badly and very little. I'm thinking about too many things at once, and my stomach hurts. I feel the words piling up behind my closed lips, and I want to cry. I hold back, though, afraid that the elves might alert Ewald. I don't want to bother him. I don't want him to ask me what's wrong when I don't even know myself. Having friends hurts. Knowing that I hurt them so much hurts too. I'm so tired of being a burden. But it also hurts to feel left out, even if it's unintentional. It reminds me of my other life, especially a memory where, standing in the school canteen queue, I saw Quentin eating with Florian and Elias. Quentin was laughing loudly, and he looked so happy that I felt utterly alone. He didn't laugh like that with me. I had hesitated to join their table. I didn't bring anything good to anyone.

oOo

I must have ended up falling asleep because when I open my eyes, it's daytime. I pull myself out of my sweat-soaked sheets and take a deep breath. My head spins slightly from the fatigue, and I have a strong urge to cut myself, but apart from that, everything's fine. I quickly get dressed under the sheets and can't resist slipping a blade into my pocket. I hide it in a tissue packet to keep it from accidentally falling out, all while staying under the covers, of course.

I arrive in the living room at about the same time as Arthur, who still looks half-asleep. Ewald and his mother are already eating quietly, and I sit next to the Slytherin, greeting them. Ewald's mother absent-mindedly passes me a glass of milk while asking Arthur what he likes for breakfast. The atmosphere is calm and warm. Ewald looks a bit tired, and I wonder how late he stayed up talking to Arthur last night.

"It's a splendid morning," Rosemary says, answering a question from her son that I didn't catch. "I thought I might go out and tend the garden a little."

"Doesn't the snow get in the way?" I ask, intrigued.

"No, I'll mostly be checking on the plants and casting a few spells. Some rituals are more effective at certain times of the year, and I thought I'd use the framework of the Yule ritual to weave a few variations."

Arthur looks interested.

"Do you use green magic in your garden? Grandmother always says it would be good for the plants, but she never has the time, and it's not really my parents' thing."

"Oh, that's a shame. I really feel the connection with the plants since I started, and the garden has been getting more beautiful every year… I think I've got one or two books on the subject. I could lend them to you for your parents, if they're interested." She turns to Ewald and asks, "Perhaps you could show him around the garden this morning as well."

"I was just thinking that," the Slytherin replies with a smile. "If you're interested, Arthur."

"Absolutely!"

"Will you come with us, Vivian?"

"I think so," I reply. Going out will probably do me some good.

oOo

Fifteen minutes later, everyone has finished eating and getting dressed, and we meet at the manor door. Ewald's mother has already gone out to tend to the garden, and Ewald leads us through paths that are now familiar to me, starting with the areas near his grandmother's outbuilding, which are wilder, before slowly heading toward the plots maintained by his mother.

On the way, I ask Arthur what time they went to bed, since he still doesn't seem very awake. I quickly regret asking, as he launches into a detailed account of the Dominaris match that kept them up until morning, and I can't seem to stop him.

"And then, he played a Crypt of Shadows to counter my Dragonlance Steed, but I had a combo in hand with the Stone-That-Transcends-Darkness, and…"

"Arthur," I interrupt him.

"Yes?"

"You do realise I have no idea what those cards do, right?"

"Don't worry, I'll explain!"

"That's really not nece—"

Arthur cuts me off, diving into even more convoluted explanations, and I give up trying to interrupt him. He's exhausting me. Unfortunately, we haven't yet reached Ewald's mother, but I place all my hopes in her: perhaps talking about green magic will make Arthur forget about torturing me.

I feel a faint, discreet brush at the edge of my mind. I look up at Ewald, who's walking on the other side of Arthur. I open myself to our connection.

"I have mercy," he says, and I sense his amusement.

I see him discreetly passing me my wand behind the Hufflepuff's back, who's still going on about the effectiveness of the combo he used against the Slytherin. I take it reflexively, unsure of what Ewald intends to do. Does he want me to cast a spell on Arthur to shut him up? I wouldn't be against that, to be honest.

"I hope you remember the spells I showed you yesterday!"

I see him subtly pointing his wand at a snow-laden fir branch that Arthur is about to walk under.

"Dispersion!"

I leap aside, and before Arthur can react, Ewald casts his spell (non-verbally), causing the branch to bend and shed its snowy burden. Arthur lets out a surprised yelp, disappearing for a moment under the white cloud. I take the opportunity to clumsily form snowballs with my wand, laughing uncontrollably.

"Thanks," I send to Ewald, doubled over with laughter.

Arthur doesn't stay idle for long. He emerges from the snowy haze, a gleam in his eyes I've never seen before.

"Oh, you'll pay for that, Ewald!"

That's when I throw a snowball that lands perfectly down his collar—a master-stroke I couldn't have managed on purpose if I'd tried. Arthur yelps.

"Vivian! Traitor!"

"Call me sweet names again!" I yell, before courageously hiding behind a fir tree.

A good call, as Arthur regains his wits and launches a snowball like a cannonball, smashing into the trunk just inches from my face. I must look startled, because Arthur shouts,

"Ha! Don't underestimate me—I've had an older brother!"

And with that, the battle is on. The tree trunk doesn't protect me for long, as Arthur uses a spell that makes his projectiles curve mid-air. Ewald gets his fair share of snowballs too. I manage to launch a few myself, thanks to the Serpentard doing an excellent job of distracting Arthur, but honestly, I'm relieved he's there. I never would've thought Arthur could be so… terrifying in a snowball fight. He chains spell after spell, seeming capable of controlling the trajectory of three snowballs at once. Even after I figure out that a well-aimed Finite can make a snowball drop harmlessly to the ground, I don't have enough time to launch enough of my own to defend myself properly. It's the first time I've ever seen Ewald struggle at something that resembles a duel. Oh, he dodges plenty, staying fully aware of his surroundings (which allows him to avoid Arthur turning tree branches against him). But even he gets hit, and I can tell he isn't as skilled as Arthur at controlling the snowballs.

Still, everything goes reasonably well until I hear a surprised cry. The battle halts instantly, because it wasn't Arthur, Ewald, or me who screamed. Ewald's mother is standing on the path, half of a snowball sliding down her cheek. Ewald rushes over to her, looking worried.

"Are you alright, Mum?"

Arthur stammers,

"I-I'm so sorry, ma'am, I didn't mean to…"

Ewald's mother stops her son with a gesture before he can reach her.

"I see how I'm being welcomed. Don't think you're getting off with just an apology—absolutely not!"

Ewald pales, and I feel terrible. Poor thing! She didn't deserve that! Three trees suddenly shake violently, dumping snow on all three of us, and I revise my opinion. What a brute! What did we do to deserve this?

Where Arthur was terrifying at managing multiple snowballs at once, Ewald's mother is on an entirely different level. She uses wandless magic and her connection to the surrounding plants to make them shake snow onto us, and it's terrifying to have nowhere to hide. Ewald's desperate yelps are some of the funniest sounds I've ever heard, which doesn't help my ability to defend myself. Ewald's mother seems to share my opinion, as she laughs heartily (which only makes her more terrifying). Finally, Rosemary seems to decide she's had her revenge, switching to more conventional attacks (or maybe she's just tired?). That said, she remains excellent at conjuring and launching snowballs. Arthur seems reluctant to attack her, leading to a temporary alliance between them, while Ewald and I turn the Hufflepuff into our primary target. At least, that's the case until the Serpentard lands a snowball squarely on the back of my neck.

"Hey!" I exclaim indignantly.

"Always watch your back!" my friend shouts, and the battle devolves into chaos again. Alone against three opponents (even though they're also fighting each other), I can't keep up. I resort to throwing snowballs by hand like a Muggle, which works slightly better for me, though my hands quickly grow numb with cold.

Cursing under my breath, I realise I just need to cast a warming spell on myself and duck behind a tree to do it. I manage it just in time—seconds before the tree dumps all its snow on me, and I let out another curse. I've spotted Ewald pointing his wand at my tree.

At that moment, I decide to get my revenge and take some time to think up a strategy. Perhaps I could cast a spell to make his feet slip and send him tumbling? I know it's not exactly fair play, but he deserves it. I wait for an opening and cast the spell just as he's launching two large snowballs at his mother. That's when everything escalates.

A wave of cold crashes over me, and I fall to the ground, ending up buried under a heap of snow. Judging by the sounds around me, I'm not the only one. When I finally manage to emerge from the mound above me, I see that Arthur and Ewald have suffered the same fate. Only Ewald's mother has been spared, and she's looking at a point behind me with an almost shocked expression. I turn around to find Ewald's grandmother standing a few steps away, clearly having come from her manor.

Ewald is the first to react, still on the ground and looking a bit dazed.

"Grandmother? What's going on?"

"That will teach you to mess with my daughter," she says, mock-severely. A faint but surprising smile softens her expression. "You should see your faces," she adds with a chuckle, before letting out a sigh. "I was planning to join you for lunch. I expect you all to be more presentable in ten minutes."

"Of course, Lady Easton. Sorry for the trouble," Arthur says sheepishly.

I don't apologise. I'm convinced she's having the time of her life, and Arthur's apology feels unnecessary. The elderly lady takes her daughter by the arm after drying her off with a spell. I can't hear what they're saying, but they lean in towards each other as they walk away, and it feels like they're laughing at us. I don't mind—I had a great time.

"Well, I suppose we'd better hurry," Ewald says with a grin. "Honestly, Arthur, I had no idea you were so skilled. You'll have to explain how you can be this good when you're so bad at duelling!"

"You know," Arthur replies, mock-threateningly, "if you insult me, I might just give you another demonstration to make sure you've fully grasped my superiority!"

"Please, no!" Ewald pretends to beg, finally pulling himself out of the snow with Arthur's helping hand. "I admit it—you're…" His feet slip on the snow, and he lands flat on his back in a hilariously undignified pose.

Oops. I'd forgotten about my slipping spell. I burst out laughing, and Arthur joins in. I'm laughing so hard I don't notice Ewald getting back on his feet until his shadow falls across my face.

"Vivian?" he asks in a very calm tone. Too calm. I sense danger a second before he continues, "Any idea who might have cast that nasty slipping spell on me? Seems to me that's not very fair play in a snowball fight..."

I let out a dignified squeak (yes, dignified, I swear) and don't even bother denying it.

"If we're talking about fair play, maybe we should discuss your mother. Using natural magic wasn't exactly in the rules!"

Surprisingly, my friend laughs.

"She traumatised me," Arthur says, suddenly more serious. "And I've already accidentally hit my mum with a snowball before, which was terrifying enough."

"I've never seen her laugh like that…" Ewald murmurs, looking touched. He seems deeply moved. "I have no regrets."

I smile at him, understanding the meaning behind his words and relieved that he seems to have forgotten about my slipping spell. My relief is short-lived, however, as he adds,

"Well then, we should hurry if we want to be on time for lunch. Vivian, return me your wand once you've dried off. And don't think I've forgotten your treachery. Your time will come."

A shiver runs down my spine, or perhaps it's just the melted snow. I quickly comply, reluctantly handing over my wand without a word. I know it would be pointless to argue, and I have no desire to bring up the subject of my near-death experience with Arthur. I really don't need that conversation.

oOo

The meal is relaxed, at least for most of us. Arthur, still convinced he has offended or disappointed Ewald's grandmother, looks like he's sitting on a bed of nettles. He apologises at least three times, addressing her as "Lady Easton" at every turn, until she finally cuts him off with a stern:

"Young man, do stop apologising. Surely you're old enough to recognise humour, aren't you? There's no harm done. My daughter hardly needs me to defend her."

Arthur lets out a strange noise of relief, oddly reminiscent of air escaping a deflating balloon, and Lady Easton continues,

"Rosemary tells me you're interested in natural magic? If you like, I could show you our ceremonial room. Let it not be said that I terrorised my grandson's best friend."

Arthur eagerly accepts the invitation, and I suppress an amused smile. Ewald does the same as our eyes meet. For the first time since the Firefly Hunt, I feel light-hearted and at ease, and my smile is almost genuine.

oOo

I spend a large part of the afternoon reading in my room while Arthur accompanies Ewald's grandmother to the Emerald Room. Ewald spends some time with me before joining his mother. Everything is peaceful. The calmness feels almost painful to me. A few discreet scratches that I make under the duvet bring me some relief.

After a while, the boys come to get me to test out the board game Arthur received for Christmas in the sitting room. The game is fascinating, a mix of strategy, diplomacy, and a bit of luck. I manage to hold my own. We play two or three rounds, growing more adept with each game, when a house-elf suddenly appears.

"Jamy has come to tell young master that his guest will arrive in five minutes. Fredy has gone to inform Mistress Rosemary."

"That's perfect, Jamy, thank you very much. You've done a great job. You may go."

The elf bows low before vanishing, and I turn to Ewald.

"What's going on? Who are you expecting?"

"A final Christmas surprise."

I glance at Arthur, who doesn't look the least bit surprised.

"What's this about? What are you two plotting now?"

"You'll find out in five minutes," the Slytherin says with a smirk.

"Arthur?"

"Don't worry," he says with a grin. "I'm sure you'll like it!"

It's precisely this kind of comment that worries me, but I keep my thoughts to myself. What have they planned? I can't quite imagine. Soon, Ewald's mother joins us, appearing ready to greet the mysterious guest. I don't have time to pry any information out of her before the flames in the fireplace turn green, allowing passage to Alphonse, who stumbles more than he steps out of the Floo. A small, selfish wave of satisfaction washes over me—I'm not the only one who can't manage to look dignified with Floo travel!

"Hello, everyone!" the newcomer announces cheerfully.

"Alphonse? Weren't you supposed to spend Christmas with your family?" I ask, suspicious.

"Surprise! And, I'd like to point out that Christmas was yesterday. Today is kidnapping day!"

I don't have time to demand further explanation, as Al greets Ewald's mother warmly before addressing us all:

"I'll let you pack your things for two days, alright? Bring a backpack if you can."

"Where are we going?" I ask, torn between suspicion and the hope of ending up somewhere less supervised.

"I'm not sure if I should tell you—it's meant to be a surprise..." Alphonse replies in a teasing tone that irritates me slightly.

"Oh, I'm already very surprised," I retort with a voice that's both light and threatening. "Now, if you'd like me to surprise you in return, by all means, continue this way. But you might not like the result..."

Alphonse swallows nervously, clearly weighing his options. Ewald looks amused, Arthur seems to think I'm overreacting, and Rosemary… Rosemary seems to find the whole situation entertaining.

"We're going to France," Alphonse says with a grin. "Surprise! My grandparents are expecting us for dinner, and they eat pretty early, so you'd better get packing quickly!"

"We're going to your grandparents'? Where do they live? And, uh, are they wizards?"

"They live near Chartres, and yes, they're wizards."

I conceal my relief. Chartres—I've never been there. It's not near where I used to live, so I'm unlikely to run into anyone I once knew, and no familiar places will remind me of my past. Al' must have thought it would make me happy to visit my home country again, I suppose. I'm not sure how I feel about it. But one thing's certain: it will probably be easier to slip away from my friends' watchful eyes there than it is here. Plus, my skills in French might even help me escape.

Without further comment, I follow Arthur upstairs to pack my things, leaving Alphonse and Ewald chatting with Rosemary. I imagine Ewald already knew about the plan—as the "official guardian" of my safety—and has already packed his bag.

oOo

Arthur walks quickly, as if he's nervous or in a hurry to leave. I catch up with him, inwardly cursing my legs for being too short, and I ask him:

"Did you know we were going to France?"

"Yes," he replies with a smile. "Are you happy about it?"

I shrug.

"It's going to feel strange, I think. Have you ever been to France?"

Arthur looks a little relieved by my answer, and I wonder what he was worried about. That I might refuse to set foot there again, perhaps?

"Yes, once or twice, always in the Wizarding parts when my parents had work trips. But I've only ever been to Paris."

"I hate Paris. I went there once with my family, and the smell was awful! Is the Wizarding side any better?"

"I loved it! It's funny how two Wizarding capitals can look so similar yet give off completely different vibes! People wear these super-modern Wizarding outfits, but they still feel traditional somehow. Oh, and they have magical candyfloss that's amazing. There are a few sellers on Diagon Alley, but they don't come close to the French ones!"

"Clothing and food… could you be any more stereotypical?" I tease. Arthur laughs before leaving me at my door since we've reached our floor.

Once in front of my trunk, I start by pulling out a backpack I had the foresight to bring. I pack some spare clothes, my toiletries (and a blade), and a notebook. I feel a pang of regret for the blue notebook I burned during my suicide attempt, but I hope to disappear as well soon. I throw in a couple of other things that catch my eye and step back out of my room. I hesitate to head downstairs without waiting for Arthur but decide to check how he's getting on instead. I don't regret it: as soon as he sees me, he plaintively asks if I can spot his orange socks anywhere. He only arrived last night, and his trunk is already a chaotic mess, the sort of thing I associate with months of staying in one place. I spot a corner of the notebook I gave him yesterday under a haphazard pile of quills and underwear, where, fortunately, I also find the orange socks he was looking for. I hold them up, and he thanks me, looking embarrassed.

"I left it a bit late to organise my trunk after getting back from Hogwarts, and to sort out what I needed for here… Plus, I've got this bad habit of using Accio to fetch things I need, but since I've lost track of my inkwell, I don't dare use it right now. I don't fancy getting ink all over my trunk!"

"Of course…" I reply, probably looking just as sceptical as I feel.

It's funny how someone as messy as Arthur is best friends with Ewald, who's such a neat freak. Oh well. Arthur eventually manages to fill the satchel he brought, which looks like it's holding far more than it should be able to, and we head back downstairs together. Ewald smiles when he sees us and remarks:

"You were quick, Arthur."

The Hufflepuff blushes a little and admits:

"Vivian helped me."

The Slytherin chuckles, but it's cut short by Alphonse, who jumps to his feet with excitement:

"Are you ready?"

When we answer affirmatively, Ewald's mother speaks up:

"Very well, follow me outside. Your Portkey is waiting."

"Thank you so much, ma'am!" replies Al.

I'm about to experience a new form of Wizarding transportation. Oh, joy. I must admit, I'm a little apprehensive—so far, only broomsticks have earned my approval. Speaking of which, I realise I forgot to bring mine and feel a twinge of regret. If we're spending most of our time on the Wizarding side, we might have the chance to fly, and I'll miss it. And even without that, it would have been a good asset for an escape.

Ewald's mother guides us to a bench near the pond, where a house-elf is waiting with a bundle of old-looking keys.

"Have you ever used a Portkey before?"

Alphonse and I both shake our heads, and Rosemary explains:

"You all need to touch the Portkey at the same time, and at least one of you should hold onto it firmly. With your free hand, hold onto each other—it's safer that way. When you land, make sure to move away from the others before emptying your stomach, if it comes to that!"

Reassuring. We follow Ewald's mother's instructions as she warns us the Portkey will activate in two minutes. We check our bags to make sure they're secure, then take hold of the bundle of keys. Naturally, Ewald positions himself next to me and takes my hand firmly. We wait for a bit, and I start to feel the cold as we stand motionless in the snow. I'm a little excited about the journey, but at the same time, I'm nervous. Ewald's mother steps back cautiously. Just as I begin to grow impatient, wondering if the Portkey will even work, I feel us begin to spin. Everything blurs. I hear Alphonse let out an enthusiastic and startled "Yeeehaaa!" and feel Ewald's grip tighten around my hand. We're off.

oOo

"I've always wanted to travel. Maybe because my parents are such homebodies, or maybe because I've always felt confined, like I never belonged. Travelling has always been a dream, and now it's become a vital necessity. To leave, to leave my past behind. To leave as though I could escape it, as though I could forget. To lose myself in thousands of other lives, to go from one discovery to the next, to breathe in new scents, to hear languages I wouldn't understand. To leave as though it's a second chance. To leave and rely on no one but myself. To carve my own path with the same determination as I carve the lines on my arms. To go from place to place where no one will know me, and in by changing, find someone else within myself."

—Excerpt from Aurore Berger's journal, kept by Quentin Lemage after her death.

I hope you'll have as much fun reading about the snowfight that I had writing it and picturing it xD
What do you think will happen in France?

Review please!

See you!