Victoire sat in Transfiguration class, clutching her wand a little too tightly. Today's spell was simple enough—changing a button into a bead—but her nerves made her grip stiff.

Professor Vector walked slowly between the desks.
"Remember, focus is key. Shape, size, and intent."

Victoire stared at the button on her desk, whispered the incantation, and tapped it gently.
The button glowed, shivered, and shifted into a lopsided green bead.

Not perfect—but it worked.

Daniel, beside her, turned his into a smooth, shimmering sphere. He gave her a small grin.
"Yours has character," he whispered.

Victoire smiled back, the knot in her stomach easing a little.

A few desks over, a girl named Iris tilted her head toward a neighbor and muttered, "Must be nice. Some people have a last name that makes professors smile before they even try."

Victoire froze, her wand slipping slightly in her fingers.

She tried to ignore it. She was used to whispers now—but that didn't mean they didn't sting.

After class, she packed her bag slowly, more careful than necessary. Daniel lingered, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

"They're wrong, you know," he said casually, like it was just another fact alongside wand movements and potion ingredients. "You're good because you work for it."

Victoire nodded, the tightness in her chest loosening just a little.


Later, in Potions, it was a different story.

Professor Kilbridge paired them off again, voice sharp and precise.
"Measure exactly. Salamander blood is sensitive. And stir clockwise."

Victoire was partnered with Angel, who followed instructions without comment.

Victoire, distracted by measuring, added a third drop instead of two.
The potion fizzed and turned a muddy gray-green.

Angel fixed it wordlessly, muttering, "We'll just say the vial slipped."

Josie, passing by behind them with her own bubbling cauldron, tossed a glance over her shoulder.
"Nice color. Very fashion-forward."

Victoire's cheeks burned. She kept her eyes firmly on the potion.


After class, she sat quietly in the hall, her bag crumpled in her lap, the cool stone floor steady under her shoes.

Daniel found her, munching on a half-crushed biscuit.

He sat down cross-legged beside her and held out the other half without comment.

She took it with a soft, "Thanks."

"I keep messing up," she mumbled.

Daniel shrugged, wiping crumbs off his robes.
"You're eleven. It's basically our job to mess up."

Victoire smiled a little despite herself. "I'm supposed to be clever."

"You are," he said simply. "Clever doesn't mean perfect. If it did, we'd all be statues by now."

She tucked her biscuit into her sleeve pocket, feeling a little lighter.


Meanwhile, two floors up in a shadowed stairwell, Teddy leaned against a cold stone wall, flipping a small folded piece of parchment between his fingers.

Victoire's letter. The one she'd sent through the school owl post the week before, even though they technically lived under the same roof.

He hadn't opened it yet.

Not because he didn't care.
Because he didn't know what to say back.

He used to know every answer Victoire needed.
Now it felt like anything he said would sound wrong.

The parchment crinkled softly as he tucked it away, guilt prickling under his skin.

He'd meant to check on her sooner.

Tomorrow, he promised himself.

Tomorrow, he'd figure it out.

Victoire hadn't meant to hear it.

She had tucked herself into the small nook behind the third-floor tapestry to reread a Charms chapter in peace between classes. The little space was one of her favorites—quiet, hidden, with just enough light from a narrow window.

That's when the voices drifted in from the hallway.

"I'm just saying," said a voice—older, probably second or third year, "it's always a Weasley doing something."

Victoire froze, the book open and forgotten in her lap.

"I know, right?" another girl replied. "Victoire? Everyone acts like she's some kind of big deal just for showing up."

"Probably because her family is famous or whatever. She doesn't even talk much in class."

Their footsteps echoed away down the corridor, the sound of their laughter lingering a second longer than the words.

Victoire sat completely still. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest.

It wasn't cruel. Not really.
But it still hurt—like a scratch you didn't notice right away, until you touched it.

She closed her book without looking at the page and slid it into her bag.
Her legs felt heavy as she climbed down from the nook, her steps slow and careful.

She didn't really know where she was going.
Her feet wandered until she found herself near a wide window on the second floor.
She sat on the cold stone bench and stared out at the cloudy sky.

She wasn't crying. Not really. But her throat felt tight, and after a moment, she rubbed her sleeve across her cheek—just in case.

"Vic?"

She blinked and turned. Ellie stood a few steps away, munching on a half-eaten apple.

"What are you doing here?" Ellie asked, her mouth half-full.

"Just sitting."

Ellie didn't ask more. She just plopped onto the bench beside her, kicking her feet against the stone.

"I heard some girls saying stuff," she said after a bit. "Think it was about you."

Victoire gave a small nod. "It was."

Ellie made a face. "They're weird."

Victoire let out a short laugh. "They said I'm the one everyone likes too much."

Ellie rolled her eyes. "That's stupid. People like you because you're you. It's not like you're walking around demanding fireworks."

Victoire smiled faintly. "They think I'm only here because of who my family is."

Ellie took another noisy bite of apple. "I'm here 'cause I'm a Willows. Nobody important. Doesn't mean I'm not supposed to be here."

Victoire looked over, surprised by the simple certainty in her voice.

Ellie shrugged. "So maybe you're supposed to be here too."

Victoire's chest loosened just a little.

"You're not just your last name," Ellie added firmly. "You're Victoire. You like stars and you read ahead in Charms and you always try your hardest even when no one's watching."

Victoire ducked her head to hide her smile. "Thanks."

Ellie bumped her shoulder against Victoire's. "That's what friends do."

They sat there a while longer, listening to the muted sounds of the castle—the faint clatter of shoes, a portrait grumbling somewhere nearby.

When the bell rang, they stood together and walked toward their next class.

The whispers were still out there. Somewhere.
But walking beside Ellie, they didn't seem nearly as loud anymore.

Victoire didn't know what she expected from Defense Against the Dark Arts, but it definitely wasn't Professor Thorne.

He wasn't scary, exactly—just serious. He had sharp eyes, neat gray robes, and spoke in short, precise sentences. When he entered the room, the chatter faded instantly.

"Today," he said, "we'll begin with the basics. Defensive posture. Wand readiness. No spells yet."

There were quiet sighs, mostly from students hoping for something flashier. Victoire stood near the back, next to Daniel, her wand in hand.

"Feet apart. Wand up, but not too high," Thorne instructed, pacing the rows.

Victoire copied the stance. It felt awkward—like pretending to be something she wasn't yet.

Thorne stopped in front of her. "Straighten your elbow. You'll lose aim if you're stiff."

She corrected it quickly, cheeks warming.

"Good," he said, before moving on.

The rest of the lesson was spent practicing turns, stances, and how to hold your ground. No dueling. No casting. Just posture.

Victoire kept glancing at other students. Josie looked focused. Daniel was calm and steady. Victoire felt… behind.

At the end, Professor Thorne gave them reading homework and a reminder: "Confidence comes from preparation. If you're uncertain, practice more."

Outside the classroom, Victoire slowed her steps, her wand still clutched a little too tightly.

Daniel noticed. "You okay?"

"I'm bad at it," she said, kicking lightly at the stone floor. "I mean, I knew I'd be bad at dueling stuff, but even standing there felt wrong." A tapestry nearby shivered in the drafty corridor, its stitched knights mid-duel, as if the castle itself were shifting restlessly.

"You weren't bad," he said.

"I felt bad."

"That's different," Daniel said, his voice calm.

Victoire blinked, surprised. Different? She hadn't thought about it that way before.

"You're good at this," she said.

"I'm not," Daniel replied. "I just practiced. I get scared too."

"You don't look scared."

"I don't like being caught off guard," he said simply.

Victoire glanced at him sideways. "Again?"

Daniel shrugged, his eyes distant. "There was an incident once. Muggle side of the family. I didn't know what to do. Now I like knowing."

Victoire didn't press. She understood what it felt like to keep some things tucked close.

They reached the library doors, where students were already gathering for afternoon study hours.

"I'll grab us a table," Daniel said. "You coming?"

Victoire nodded and followed him in, loosening her grip on her wand as she stepped through the doors.

Maybe she wasn't perfect at all this yet.

Maybe that was okay.

Teddy sat in the Hufflepuff common room, his foot tapping restlessly under the low table. His Transfiguration chart was spread out in front of him, but he wasn't looking at it. Every few seconds, his eyes flicked toward the corridor leading back to the dorms, chewing the inside of his cheek.

Next to his bag sat a letter from Gran, opened but not yet answered. Her neat, familiar cursive filled the page, warm but direct:

Dear Teddy,
I hope classes are treating you well and that your shoes are holding up better than last year's pair. Have you checked in with Victoire? You haven't mentioned her much in your last letter. I imagine she's doing brilliantly, but it's always nice for someone to ask how she's settling in. Don't let her first year go by without a few words from her favorite cousin. All my love, Gran.

Teddy reread the last part—you haven't mentioned her much—and winced. She was right. He hadn't. Not on purpose. It just… felt harder than he expected.

Zoe passed by with a pile of books balanced precariously in her arms and raised an eyebrow. "You've been staring at that for fifteen minutes. Planning a dramatic confession?"

Teddy shrugged. "I was going to say hi to Victoire after Herbology today, but she was with Daniel and Ellie. They were laughing. I didn't want to butt in."

Zoe dropped her books onto the table with a thud and slid into the seat across from him. "So you just… didn't?"

"I didn't want to make it weird," he muttered.

Zoe raised both eyebrows. "It's weird because you're not saying anything."

Teddy sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "We talked after Sorting. I even showed her where the kitchens are. It was good. But now… I don't know. It feels like she's already got her people, and I'm just—this leftover."

"She's still figuring things out," Zoe said simply. "You're not leftover. You're part of her start here. She just doesn't know how much she still needs you."

Teddy looked down at a crumpled piece of parchment he'd pulled from his bag. Only a few words were scribbled at the top: Hi Vic… and then nothing.

Zoe peered at it sideways. "Please don't owl her. You're in the same castle. That's embarrassing."

"I wasn't going to," he said, stuffing it back into his Transfiguration book. "Gran just… wants me to be better about checking in. And I don't know what to say without sounding stupid."

Zoe leaned back in her chair. "You don't need a big speech. You just need to show up. Say something. Ask about her day."

Teddy picked at the frayed strap of his bag, thinking.

"I think Gran thinks I'm avoiding her," he said after a minute.

Zoe gave him a look. "Are you?"

Teddy grimaced. "Not really. Maybe a little. It's just—she feels different now. Older. And I don't know if I'm supposed to treat her like a little kid or like... someone I don't want to mess things up with."

Zoe didn't push further. She just smiled a little.

From the upper stairwell, Hunter's voice echoed down. "Oi! You two done philosophizing about feelings? Supper's not going to eat itself!"

Zoe stood, grabbing her books. "Talk to her after dinner," she said. "Don't make it a big thing. Just be her Teddy."

Teddy nodded slowly. "Yeah. I will."

He glanced down at Gran's letter one last time, then folded it carefully and slid it deep into his bag—not forgotten, just… decided.

This time, he wouldn't let himself get stuck in his own head.

This time, he'd show up.

Charms with the Hufflepuffs had quickly become Victoire's favorite class. Professor Flitwick had a way of making even the smallest spells feel exciting. His eyes lit up like a student himself whenever they got something right.

"Today we begin with wand-lighting! One of the most useful charms you'll ever learn: Lumos," he announced, bouncing slightly atop his stack of books. "Especially handy for late-night corridor explorations—though, of course, I discourage such behavior."

A few students chuckled.

Victoire stood beside Ellie and Daniel at their shared table. Her wand felt more natural now, no longer something foreign she was borrowing. It belonged in her hand.

"Lumos," she whispered, focused and careful.

A soft glow flickered to life at the tip of her wand, then steadied into a warm light.

"Yes!" she breathed, her smile widening.

Daniel nodded approvingly. "Good control."

Ellie huffed with mock offense. "Show-off. Watch this."

She waved her wand a little too dramatically. The tip sparked, flared bright, then sputtered out with a faint popping sound.

Professor Flitwick strolled by just in time. "A bit gentler, Miss Willows. Think glowbug, not dragonfire."

"Yes, Professor!" Ellie grinned, completely unfazed.

All around them, wands flickered like fireflies. Some lights blinked and faded; others burned bright and steady. A few students gave up with exaggerated sighs, slouching in their chairs.

Victoire noticed a Hufflepuff boy—Toby—poking at his wand with frustration. His light would flare for a second, then die.

She leaned over. "Here—try this motion. Slow and steady, not too sharp."

Toby copied her flick. His wand glowed, bright and steady this time.

His eyes widened. "Thanks. Thought only top-of-the-class kids got it straight away."

She shrugged. "Sometimes it clicks. Sometimes it doesn't. Next week it'll be something else."

The lesson shifted to the counterspell.

"Now, extinguish your lights with Nox!" Flitwick called.

Victoire tried it. Her light blinked out neatly. Another win. She couldn't stop the small grin from spreading across her face.

Then came the whisper.

"She's only good at it because of her mum," muttered a girl just behind her—quiet enough for Victoire to pretend she hadn't heard it, but loud enough to make sure she did.

Victoire's smile faded.

Ellie whipped around immediately. "She practiced. A lot."

"Sure she did," the girl said with a smirk, already turning away.

Victoire tightened her grip on her wand. She didn't say anything. She didn't trust her voice not to crack.

After class, as they walked through the entrance hall toward dinner, Daniel fell into step beside her.

"You okay?" he asked, like he already knew she wasn't.

"I'm fine," she said too quickly.

Daniel didn't push. He just stayed close, like a silent shield.

The Great Hall buzzed with energy that night. Candles floated lazily overhead, casting soft pools of light onto the golden plates and noisy tables.

Victoire ate with Ellie and Daniel. She smiled. She laughed at Daniel's bad jokes and Ellie's dramatic impressions of Flitwick. But the whisper gnawed at the back of her mind.

After dinner, needing air more than dessert, she slipped out into the courtyard.

The evening was cool and damp, the stars just beginning to peek through a navy sky. She climbed up onto the low stone wall and hugged her knees to her chest.

She didn't hear anyone approach until someone sat down beside her.

"Hey," said Teddy.

She blinked. "Hey. What are you doing out here?"

"Looking for you." He shrugged, casual. "Hunter said you'd vanished. Ellie said you needed air. Figured I'd better check."

Victoire smiled, small but real. "I'm just thinking."

"Mind if I think with you?"

She shrugged, and he stayed.

For a long minute, they didn't talk. Just sat, breathing in the cool night air, letting the castle hum quietly behind them.

Finally, Teddy asked, "How was Charms?"

Victoire hesitated. "Good. I got Lumos on the second try."

Teddy grinned. "Better than me. Took me three classes."

She laughed, then sobered. "Someone said I'm only good at spells because of my mum."

Teddy's grin faded. "Who?"

"A Hufflepuff girl."

Teddy's mouth twitched. "She's wrong. Veela magic doesn't make spells easier. You're good because you work for it."

"I know," she said. "But it still stings."

"You don't owe anyone an explanation."

Victoire stayed quiet.

After a moment, Teddy nudged her shoulder lightly. "You want to do something reckless?"

She glanced at him, suspicious. "Define reckless."

He grinned and pulled a folded parchment from his pocket.

She gasped. "Is that—?"

"The Marauder's Map," he said proudly. "Borrowed it. Temporarily."

Victoire's mouth dropped open. "Teddy!"

"Educational purposes only," he said solemnly.

He tapped the map with his wand. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Names bloomed across the parchment like tiny fireflies.

"Whoa," Victoire whispered.

"C'mon," Teddy said. "I want to show you something."

They slipped quietly back into the castle, avoiding the half-asleep prefects and Filch's cat. Teddy led her through passages and hidden doors, pointing out shortcuts and hidden nooks she'd never have found alone.

Behind the third-floor tapestry, there was a narrow alcove with a bench overlooking the courtyard.

Victoire collapsed onto the bench, laughing. "This place is amazing."

"There's more," Teddy promised. "There's a hidden staircase near the dungeons too."

They sat for a while, swapping stories—some real, some exaggerated.

At some point, Victoire grew quiet.

Teddy noticed. "What's up?"

She hesitated. "I'm glad you're still here."

Teddy looked at her, really looked. "I'm glad too."

There was a long moment.

"You're different," he said finally.

Victoire blinked. "Different how?"

"You're not just following anymore. You're… standing taller."

She didn't know what to say to that. She just smiled.

After a moment, Teddy cleared his throat. "Still want to find that ticklish pear painting?"

Victoire laughed. "You remembered!"

"Educational purposes," he repeated solemnly.

They walked side by side down the corridor, their shoulders bumping now and then without either of them pulling away.

At the entrance to Ravenclaw Tower, they paused.

"I really am glad you're here," Teddy said, voice softer now.

"I'm glad you are too," she said.

He hesitated, then tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. It was quick—but it made her stomach flip.

"Night, Vic," he said, flashing a grin before disappearing down the corridor.

She stood there a moment longer, hand against her cheek where he'd touched it, feeling something warm and steady settle inside her.

Then she answered the eagle knocker's riddle and slipped inside.

The Ravenclaw common room was quiet, bathed in the soft twilight glow from the enchanted ceiling. Victoire sat alone on one of the crescent-shaped sofas by the window, her legs tucked beneath her and her journal balanced on her knees. Behind her, the fire crackled gently in the hearth, its warmth wrapping around the empty room.

Most of her housemates had already drifted upstairs, their laughter fading up the spiraling stairs.

Victoire dipped her quill into ink and leaned over the page.

October 3rd

Today was strange. Good-strange and not-good-strange. I got the Lumos charm to work—second try. It felt amazing. Like something inside me clicked into place. Professor Flitwick smiled. Like I really earned it.

She tapped the end of the quill against her lip, thinking.

But someone said I'm only good at it because of my mum. Part Veela. Like that's all I am. I hate how much it stuck with me.

Teddy showed me the Marauder's Map tonight. We snuck around for a bit. He made me laugh. He touched my hand—by accident, I think—and I thought my brain would explode. I don't know what's happening there. I don't want to be weird about it. I just... feel everything louder when he's around.

She stared at the ink, the words heavier than they looked. Then she sighed, closed the book, and tucked it under her arm.

As she stood to head upstairs, a soft knock echoed against the tower entrance.

Victoire turned, frowning. It was late—much too late for visitors.

The eagle-shaped door knocker's voice rang out, smooth and clear:
"What comes once in a minute, twice in a moment, but never in a thousand years?"

There was a pause.

"Uh... time?" someone guessed uncertainly.

Victoire bit back a laugh and stepped forward.

"It's the letter M," she answered clearly.

The door swung open with a soft creak.

Daniel, Ellie, and Josie tumbled inside, breathless from laughing.

"We ran into Josie after study hall," Daniel said quickly, catching Victoire's surprised look. "Thought we'd all walk back together."

Josie strolled in like she owned the place. "They begged for my sparkling personality."

Ellie flopped dramatically onto a couch. "We got lost for a bit."

"You've been here a month," Victoire said, grinning.

"And yet I remain the embodiment of chaos," Ellie said proudly.

Josie perched on the arm of a chair, surveying the common room with a critical eye. "Nice furniture. Bit much on the star charts."

Daniel dropped cross-legged onto the carpet. "We were just talking about Charms. Today was wild."

"Did you see when Toby's wand lit the plant instead of the feather?" Ellie burst out laughing. "I swear he almost set it on fire!"

"I did not need a second disaster after Defense class," Josie muttered. "Every Gryffindor boy either blows things up or acts like he meant to."

They all laughed.

Victoire sat with them, her journal forgotten, her knees pulled up to her chest. Just listening. Just being.

"Also," Ellie said slyly, "you were amazing in Charms today."

"She always is," Daniel added, sincere.

Victoire shrugged, embarrassed. "I practiced a lot."

Josie nodded once. "Doesn't matter why. You did it. That's what counts."

Their conversation drifted into softer chatter—how cold the hallways were getting, which teacher gave the most boring homework, the best places to nap without getting caught.

Eventually, Josie stood. "Alright. Time to sneak out before someone catches me."

"I'll walk you down to the portrait," Daniel said, stretching.

Ellie yawned and sprawled sideways on the couch. "I will heroically fall asleep right here."

Victoire snorted. "Don't drool on the cushions."

Ellie gave a sleepy salute.

At the door, Daniel turned back and smiled at Victoire. "You know, you really are the most Ravenclaw person I know."

"Except for the eagle statue," Ellie mumbled from her cushion.

Victoire grinned. "I'll take it."

When the door closed behind them, she climbed the stairs back to her dormitory, her heart feeling lighter than it had all day.

She lay back on her bed, tucking her journal under her pillow.
Above her, the stars spun slowly across the enchanted ceiling—steady, patient, waiting for her dreams to catch up.