The cold had officially settled in.

Victoire pulled her cloak tighter as she crossed the entrance courtyard, her breath puffing little clouds into the crisp morning air. The castle towers shimmered under floating ivy charmed to shift from green to brilliant gold whenever students walked past. Even the suits of armor wore tiny pumpkin charms pinned proudly to their chests.

Inside the Great Hall, the sky was a heavy grey—but the room itself was bright and lively. Enormous gourds bobbed alongside the usual floating candles, and the long tables groaned under platters of warm apple tarts, cinnamon rolls, and steaming porridge.

Victoire slid into her usual seat between Ellie and Daniel at the Ravenclaw table, shaking the chill from her sleeves.

"You're unusually chipper this morning," Daniel said, sipping pumpkin juice with a skeptical eyebrow.

Victoire smiled. "It feels like real magic today. I love it."

Ellie, digging through her overstuffed bag, pulled out a crumpled bit of parchment. "Look! The Halloween notice went up!" she stage-whispered.

Victoire leaned in to read:

Hogwarts Halloween Feast: October 31st — Come in Your House Colors!
Special Treats! Live Entertainment! Pumpkin Carving Competition!

Ellie beamed. "I'm gonna carve a badger. Very on brand."

Daniel smirked. "Ravenclaws will probably try to carve riddles into theirs."

Victoire laughed. "Maybe I'll carve a moon. For Ravenclaw. And Shell Cottage."

Ellie clutched her heart dramatically. "Poetic and house spirit? You're unbearable."

Across the room, Victoire caught sight of the Slytherin table. Josie was laughing at something one of the older girls said, her braid swinging as she leaned in.

"She looks happier," Victoire said, nodding toward her.

Ellie glanced over. "Having house friends probably helps."

Daniel shrugged with a small grin. "We've got our own little empire."

Victoire smiled to herself. She liked that too.

The morning bell rang, and students scraped back benches, gathering cloaks and bags. Victoire tucked her Astronomy notes safely away and swung her cloak over her shoulders again. Her heart felt lighter than it had in weeks.

Something about the day felt full of possibilities—like Hogwarts itself was holding its breath, waiting for something good.

As they joined the slow tide of students toward the staircases, the Great Hall buzzed behind them—footsteps, laughter, and the sharp, sweet scent of apples and rain.

Charms class buzzed with quiet excitement.

Professor Flitwick stood at the front, perched atop his usual stack of books, tapping his wand against the blackboard where the day's lesson appeared in neat gold letters:

"The Cushioning Charm — Softening Falls and Landings."

"Useful for broom mishaps, runaway suitcases, and clumsy cousins," Flitwick said with a wink. A ripple of laughter rolled through the room.

Victoire grinned and tightened her grip on her wand. This was the sort of magic she loved—practical, a little showy, and clever underneath.

Beside her, Daniel already had his notes arranged with surgical precision. Ellie, on the other hand, stared suspiciously at her wand like it might misbehave.

"Don't drop anything important on me," Ellie whispered dramatically.

Victoire laughed. "I'll aim for your shoes if I miss."

Flitwick demonstrated the spell, dropping a heavy textbook from shoulder height. It floated down as if caught by an invisible cushion.

"Incantation: Molliare!" he said, beaming.

The class split into small groups to practice.

Victoire pointed her wand carefully at her own textbook, murmured, "Molliare," and flicked her wrist. The book hovered in the air before dropping gently onto the desk with a soft, satisfying thump.

Not perfect—still a tiny bounce—but good enough to make her smile.

Daniel went next. His spell was so clean that the book barely seemed to touch the surface. Victoire gave him a quiet thumbs-up.

Meanwhile, Ellie's book shot across the table like a rogue Bludger, landing with a noisy slap.

Flitwick chuckled as he passed. "Gentler intent, Miss Willows—not a Quidditch save!"

Ellie groaned and dropped her forehead onto the table. "I'm cursed."

Two rows over, Josie managed the charm on her first try. She didn't brag, but Victoire caught the satisfied tilt of her mouth.

"Show-off," Ellie muttered without much bite.

"Jealous," Josie shot back lazily.

Victoire tried again, smoothing her focus like Flitwick had shown them. This time, her book floated down even slower, cradled in magic. A quiet pride settled under her ribs.

As the lesson wound down, Flitwick floated several large cushions to the front and had students practice dropping objects onto them.
The room filled with bursts of laughter, a few sparks, and the occasional thud when spells didn't quite catch.

Finally, Flitwick clapped his hands. "Excellent work, everyone! Remember: confidence and focus. Cushioning Charms may seem simple, but they save lives—and noses—every year!"

The class packed up, buzzing with small victories and a few bruised egos.

Victoire tucked her wand into her sleeve, feeling steadier than she had all morning.


The path between the castle and the greenhouses was slick with dew, the sharp air nipping at Victoire's fingertips as she clutched her Herbology textbook tighter.

Daniel and Ellie flanked her, their breath misting faintly in the cold.

"You think Professor Longbottom's really going to make us wrestle a Devil's Snare?" Ellie asked, giving the greenhouses a suspicious look.

"He said study, not fight," Daniel said.

Victoire laughed, adjusting her bag. "Just don't fall asleep next to it. They like that."

As they rounded a bend near the greenhouse gates, a gust of wind sent a flurry of golden leaves spiraling into the air.

From up ahead, Teddy Lupin appeared, hands stuffed into the pockets of his cloak. His hair was a bright russet today—almost blending into the storm of falling leaves.

Without thinking, he plucked a leaf from the air and flicked it lightly at Victoire.

It landed squarely on her head.

Victoire froze, blinking up cross-eyed at the crinkled leaf.
Daniel stifled a laugh. Ellie outright snorted.

Teddy grinned. "Nice hat, Vic."

Victoire plucked the leaf free, cheeks warming. "You're lucky I don't know any hexes yet."

"Yet," Teddy said, flashing a wink.

Hunter Rosewood ambled up behind him, dragging a sleepy Crystal by the elbow. "Subtle, mate," Hunter said under his breath—but loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.

Teddy elbowed him hard, but Hunter just grinned.

Victoire, still blushing, wasn't sure what they meant, but something about the way Hunter said it made her stomach flutter oddly.

Crystal gave her a tiny wave as they passed. "Nice save, by the way," she teased.

The Herbology greenhouse doors creaked open, and students began filing inside.

Teddy gave a lazy two-fingered salute before turning to follow Hunter and Crystal toward the courtyard.

Victoire watched him go, feeling oddly lighter—and heavier—all at once.

"You've still got a leaf in your hair," Daniel said, reaching over and gently brushing it away before they ducked inside.

Victoire muttered a soft thank you, heart pounding against her ribs for reasons she couldn't quite name yet.

The library smelled like warm parchment and old wood polish, and Victoire loved it.

They had claimed a small corner near a window—fortress of books and parchment piling up around them as they prepared for the upcoming Magical Creatures quiz.

Victoire sat cross-legged on the floor, flipping through a textbook almost as tall as she was. Ellie sprawled across a chair nearby, her notes a wild mess of ink blots, crooked lines, and half-sketched dragons. Daniel, of course, took neat, tiny notes, every word perfectly lined up. Josie leaned against the window frame, chewing the end of her quill like it had personally insulted her.

"This book says Nifflers can tear up an entire field in half an hour," Ellie said, wide-eyed. "Imagine what one could do in Herbology!"

"Longbottom would faint," Daniel said without glancing up.

Josie smirked. "Worth it. I'd pay good galleons to see that."

Victoire smiled to herself, barely even pretending to study. She liked these moments—the quiet, messy kind. It felt like Hogwarts was unfolding its secret corners just for them.

"So," Ellie said suddenly, tossing her quill onto the floor dramatically, "weird question."

Victoire blinked. "Okay?"

Ellie grinned mischievously. "You're always talking about Louis and Shell Cottage and your parents... but what about Teddy?"

Daniel looked up too, genuinely curious.

Josie arched an eyebrow. "Yeah. You two nod at each other like you're passing secret codes."

Victoire's cheeks warmed. She tucked her hair behind her ear, buying time.

"Teddy's... complicated," she said slowly. "He's my godbrother. Sort of. We're not blood family, but he's always just... been there. Summers at Shell Cottage. Holidays. Family parties where he'd steal dessert and blame me."

Ellie's grin widened. "So basically a big brother?"

Victoire nodded, but there was a tight feeling in her chest. "Yeah. I thought... it'd be the same here. But he's older now. He's got friends. He's busy."

There was a pause.

"That's normal," Daniel said gently. "Growing up changes stuff."

Josie gave a lopsided smirk. "You want to hex him when he ignores you, or just trip him down a moving staircase?"

Victoire laughed before she could help it. "Depends on the day."

Ellie leaned her head on her hand. "Sounds like real family to me."

The conversation shifted easily after that.

Ellie shared how growing up with three older brothers was "survival of the loudest"—and how she learned to Quidditch-battle and win arguments about everything from breakfast to broomsticks.

Daniel talked about being the only magical kid in his mostly Muggle family. "When I accidentally lit a saucepan on fire with my wand hand, my gran thought we were haunted," he said dryly.

Josie shifted where she sat, fiddling with her quill. She didn't speak for a second. Then she said, "We didn't come back here because we missed it, you know. My mum got a job offer out of nowhere. She's still not sure about it."

She shrugged, pretending it didn't matter. "She just said we had to move. That was it. No goodbye. No vote."

Ellie's face softened. "That's rough."

Josie scoffed lightly. "It's whatever."

Victoire recognized that tone—the way you built a wall even as you talked.

"Well, you're stuck with us now," Victoire said, aiming for lightness but meaning every word.

Daniel nodded. "You're officially part of the society. No take-backs."

Ellie pointed dramatically at the ceiling. "Sworn by blood—or at least by pumpkin pasty crumbs."

Josie snorted but didn't argue. She bent her head and started doodling tiny swords in the margins of her Herbology notes.

Victoire leaned back, letting the window's cool stone press against her shoulder. She realized something then:

Maybe belonging didn't happen all at once.

Maybe it built itself quietly—page by page, conversation by conversation, moment by moment.

And maybe that was even better.

The courtyard near the Greenhouses was soaked in thin October sunlight. Dry leaves scuttled across the stone as Teddy slouched onto one of the benches, Max and Hunter already sprawled lazily around him. Zoe sat cross-legged on the ground, flipping a small silver coin between her fingers. Crystal leaned against the low wall, absentmindedly braiding a lock of her dark hair.

"So," Hunter said, stretching with a groan, "are we actually doing something for Halloween, or are we officially boring third-years now?"

Max shrugged. "Depends. Are we getting caught?"

"Not if we're good," Hunter said with a wicked grin.

Teddy smiled faintly but stayed quiet, poking a stick at a pile of crisped leaves near his boot.

Crystal arched an eyebrow. "Define 'good.'"

"No major property damage," Hunter said solemnly. "Just a few friendly tricks. Floating pumpkins. Singing suits of armor. Mild chaos."

Zoe snorted. "Floating pumpkins? That's first-year level mischief."

"Exactly. They'll never suspect us," Hunter said brightly. "Too obvious."

Max leaned forward, grinning. "I vote yes. But only if we make the pumpkins sing off-key."

Teddy laughed at that—really laughed, not just a polite huff. It felt good.

Hunter caught the moment and smirked. "Speaking of bravery, reckon Victoire would prank a teacher if we dared her?"

Teddy's laugh caught short. His stomach did a strange little flip.

"She's braver than you, Lupin," Hunter added, nudging him.

Crystal rolled her eyes. "Low bar."

Zoe flipped the coin again and caught it without looking. "Bet she wouldn't even flinch. Bet you would."

Teddy opened his mouth—then closed it. He didn't know what he wanted to say.

"She's a first-year," he said finally, shrugging. "She's got enough to deal with."

Zoe gave him a long look—curious, but not pushing.

Hunter clapped him on the back. "Relax, mate. We're teasing. She's doing great. Probably already plotting to take over Ravenclaw Tower by Christmas."

"Wouldn't put it past her," Teddy muttered, but he smiled a little.

They spent the next half-hour tossing around prank ideas—enchanted quills that shouted embarrassing compliments, spell-charmed pumpkins that tap-danced when someone said "boo," a magical fog that would sneak through the hallways during the feast.

Teddy laughed, threw out a few ideas. But part of him stayed a few steps behind the noise.

He kept thinking about Victoire.
About how her face lit up when she got a spell right.
About how she still looked for him without even realizing.

And how, slowly, he didn't feel quite big enough anymore to catch all the ways she was changing.

The Hogwarts library always smelled like old parchment and cold stone.
Victoire loved it—mostly.

Today, though, it felt endless. Every table was packed with students cramming for quizzes, their parchment sprawled across every surface. Pale, watery light slipped through the high windows, making everything look faint and tired.

She wandered deeper into the stacks, searching for the Charms section.
Professor Flitwick had recommended Intermediate Lightwork: From Lumos to Luster, and she was determined to find it.

Victoire stretched up on tiptoe, trying to tug a thick, battered volume off the top shelf.

At the same moment, another hand reached for the same book—and their fingers bumped.

"Oh—sorry!" Victoire said, stepping back fast.

Teddy stood there, half-grinning, his hair somewhere between brown and a messy sort of copper today.
He looked surprised—but pleased.

"Guess we've got good taste in Charms books," he said.

Victoire laughed softly. "You're actually studying?"

He made a wounded face. "I study. Occasionally. Under extreme circumstances."

She giggled, tension slipping out of her chest without her even noticing.

Teddy tugged the book down and offered it to her with an exaggerated bow. "For you, m'lady."

Victoire rolled her eyes but took it. "Thanks."

Without needing to say anything, they fell into step together, weaving through the tall shelves toward the reading tables.

Victoire clutched the book to her chest. It was silly, but the warmth in her hands wasn't from the leather binding.

Teddy glanced sideways at her. "How's Ravenclaw life?"

"Good. Mostly. A lot of reading. A lot of riddles."

"You crack the door puzzles yet?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes Daniel does. Sometimes we just guess until the eagle gets tired of us."

Teddy chuckled, low and easy. "Sounds about right."

They reached the edge of the study area.
Victoire hesitated, not ready to peel away just yet.

Teddy must have noticed, because he lowered his voice, leaning in slightly. "How's the wand work?"

She lit up. "Better! I'm working on light spells. Professor Flitwick said I've got good control."

"That's brilliant, Vic."
His smile was real—no teasing this time.
"Told you you'd be amazing."

Victoire ducked her head, cheeks pink.

"And you?" she asked, peeking up again. "Still charming staircases to trip Max?"

Teddy laughed—a short, surprised sound. "Only once this month."

There was a moment—a beat longer than it needed to be—where neither of them moved.

Victoire fiddled with the book's spine.
"I… missed talking to you."

Teddy rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah. Same."

He looked like he wanted to say something else—
—but a group of second-years came crashing past, waving copies of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi and knocking into a shelf.

The moment broke.

Teddy gave a lopsided half-smile. "Better get back before Hunter floods the Hufflepuff common room or something."

Victoire laughed. "Good luck."

"See you, Vic."

"See you."

He lingered half a second longer—
—and then, hands shoved into his pockets, melted into the crowd.

Victoire hugged the book tighter against her chest and slipped into an empty chair by the window.
Outside, the rain misted the glass.
But somehow, the sun felt a little closer anyway.

For the first time all week, she didn't feel quite so far from home.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson had been a mess from the start.
Professor Thorne had assigned basic Shield Charm stances—no spellwork yet, just footwork and wand positioning—but that hadn't stopped the Gryffindor boys from turning it into some sort of dueling match.
By the end, half the class was red-faced, and the other half looked ready to throw punches.

Victoire shoved her wand into her robe pocket and followed Ellie and Daniel into the corridor. The air buzzed with leftover adrenaline—students laughing too loudly, bags bumping shoulders, spells muttered under breaths.

Josie wasn't with them.
Not at first.

Daniel spotted her first.
She was leaning stiffly against the stone wall a little farther down, arms crossed so tightly across her chest it looked like she was trying to hold herself together.

Ellie slowed.
"Josie?"

Josie didn't look at them.
Her voice was flat and sharp as a snapped twig.
"One of the Gryffindor boys told me to 'go back to wherever Yankee witches come from.' After I blocked his spell."

Victoire's stomach twisted.
It wasn't the first time she'd heard the way some students muttered about Josie's accent—but hearing it out loud, like that, was different. It was cruel.

"What did you do?" Daniel asked carefully.

Josie gave a short, bitter laugh.
"Blocked his next spell twice as hard. Right in his face."
A pause.
"Professor Thorne didn't see it."

Ellie fidgeted with the strap of her bag. "That's... that's so unfair."

Josie finally turned.
Her face wasn't angry now.
It was tired.

"It's not the first time," she said. "It's just louder here."

There was a silence.
Not an awkward one—just heavy. Like everyone was waiting for someone to say the right thing and no one knew how.

Victoire stepped forward before she could overthink it.
She planted her feet like she was ready to duel.

"They're wrong," she said, steady and sure.
"You belong here just as much as anyone."

Josie's eyes flickered, and for a second—just a second—Victoire thought she might argue.
But instead, Josie's shoulders dropped, like she'd been carrying something too heavy for too long.

"You really think that?"
It wasn't mocking. It wasn't a test.
It was just tired and real.

Victoire nodded hard.
"I know it."

Daniel added quietly, "Honestly? You're better than half the kids in there. They're just loud."

Ellie scrambled to catch up. "Yeah! And you're, like, brilliant at shield stances. I fell over twice and you made it look easy."

Josie gave a real, crooked smile.
Just a small one.
But it stayed.

They fell into step together, heading for the main staircase.
The tension didn't vanish completely—but it loosened.
Ellie started rambling about the Halloween feast plans—something about carving pumpkin monsters—and Daniel told a terrible joke about a poltergeist who got stuck in a cauldron.

Josie didn't laugh out loud.
But she snorted under her breath once.
Which, for Josie, was basically a standing ovation.

Victoire stayed close without pushing, matching Josie's pace.
Saying without words: I'm not going anywhere.

As they turned a corner toward the courtyard, Victoire caught a glimpse of Teddy at the far end of the hall—Hunter and Crystal beside him, Max cracking some joke that made them all laugh.

For half a second, Victoire almost waved.
Almost.

But Josie bumped her shoulder lightly, steering her back to the group.

Victoire smiled to herself.

For the first time since the term started, she didn't feel like she was trailing behind anyone.
She was exactly where she was supposed to be.

The corridors of Hogwarts glowed gold with floating jack-o'-lanterns and enchanted leaves swirling lazily through the air. The scent of roasted apples and cinnamon drifted faintly from the Great Hall.

It was too cold and damp to linger outside, but too early for dinner, which meant one thing: students were restless.

Victoire, Daniel, Ellie, and Josie loitered near a window alcove when Hunter Rosewood came bounding over, scarf slightly crooked, wearing a grin too wide to be innocent.

"Alright, bored geniuses," he said. "Fancy a challenge?"

Victoire raised an eyebrow. "What kind of challenge?"

Hunter twirled dramatically. "Shortcut race. From here to the second-floor courtyard. Rules: No main staircases. No boring corridors. Only secret ways. Winner gets first pick of dessert at dinner."

Josie crossed her arms, skeptical. "Shortcut race?"

Hunter grinned wider. "Think you're too good to lose, White?"

Josie rolled her eyes but stayed put.

Behind him, Max and Zoe sauntered up—Zoe already smirking like she'd won whatever they were about to do. Crystal followed, plaiting a thin braid into her hair, her gaze flicking to the group and away again like she was amused but too cool to say so.

Teddy drifted after them, hands in his cloak pockets. He caught Victoire's eye—and for a second, it felt like the old summers at Shell Cottage, when the world was smaller and simpler.

Max scanned the group lazily. "Teams?"

"Mix it up," Ellie said quickly, before Hunter could rig it.

Zoe laughed. "Figures you'd want chaos."

The teams shook out after a bit of pushing and arguing:

Team One: Victoire, Hunter, Max, Josie.
Team Two: Teddy, Daniel, Ellie, Zoe, Crystal.

Hunter climbed onto a low bench. "On my count! One—two—"

Before he could finish, Peeves the Poltergeist swooped down from nowhere, cackling madly and hurling what looked suspiciously like orange slime balloons.

"RUN!" Josie yelled.

The shortcut race instantly dissolved into glorious chaos.

The castle blurred around Victoire as she sprinted with Hunter down the nearest narrow hallway, dodging the grinning suits of armor. Max veered off almost immediately, disappearing with a lazy salute ("Taking a scenic route!" he called).

Hunter yanked Victoire sideways as a trick stair tried to snatch her ankle.

"You owe me!" he huffed.

"Debatable!" Victoire laughed breathlessly.

Josie shoved open a tapestry door ahead of them, revealing an abandoned music room full of floating instruments that twanged and rattled as they raced through.

Meanwhile, Teddy's team wasn't faring much better.

Ellie shrieked when a portrait sneezed dust all over her. Daniel tried to reason through the correct shortcut by logic—only for Zoe to drag him along by the sleeve.

"No thinking, Sterling! Just move!"

Teddy was laughing, properly laughing, as Crystal darted ahead, her braid swinging behind her.

Midway through the chaos, Victoire and Teddy somehow ended up side by side in a narrow, half-lit passageway.

They slowed without meaning to, both catching their breath.

"You good?" Teddy asked, grinning.

"Fine," Victoire said, cheeks flushed pink from running. "You?"

"Ancient and falling apart," he said solemnly, earning a giggle.

She bumped his shoulder lightly with hers, and for a heartbeat, it was easy again—like they hadn't spent the past few weeks tiptoeing around something neither wanted to name.

They reached a narrow stone stairwell. Teddy bowed with a dramatic sweep. "Ladies first."

Victoire rolled her eyes but ducked through, her heart fluttering for reasons that had nothing to do with winning races.

By the time they burst into the second-floor courtyard, most of the others had already collapsed onto the cold stone benches, laughing and arguing over who won.

"I think we won," Josie said, sprawled dramatically on the floor.

"You cheated," Zoe muttered.

Josie shrugged. "Winning and cheating aren't opposites."

Max strolled out of a side door, looking supremely unbothered. "I've been here the whole time."

"Sure, Max," Daniel deadpanned.

Victoire dropped onto a bench, chest heaving from running. Across the courtyard, Teddy caught her gaze.

He smiled—easy, open, the way he used to—and this time, Victoire didn't hesitate to smile back.

Maybe they were different now.
Maybe they were still figuring it out.

But for right now, at least, they were still tethered by something real.

The castle bells chimed for dinner, and the group scattered, still trading jabs and laughter as they headed toward the Great Hall.

Victoire stayed close to her friends, her steps lighter than they had been in days.

After dinner, the castle grew quieter, humming with that low magical stillness Hogwarts sometimes had. Students filtered back to their common rooms, laughing and comparing how many pumpkin pastries they'd managed to smuggle away.

Victoire wandered outside, tugging her cloak tighter around her shoulders. The courtyard stones were still damp from the morning mist, and the lanterns overhead swung gently in the cool October breeze.

She wasn't surprised to find Teddy sitting on the low stone steps leading down to the garden. His head was tipped back, watching the sky, one hand lazily twirling his wand between his fingers.

Victoire hesitated for a second, then padded over and dropped down beside him.

He didn't flinch. Just smiled, easy and small, without looking over.

"Thought you'd gone off with your fancy new crew," he teased.

Victoire bumped his shoulder with hers. "Maybe I needed a break."

Teddy chuckled under his breath. "They seem alright."

"They are," she said, wrapping her arms around her knees. "It's just... a lot sometimes. Big. Loud. Not Shell Cottage."

He nodded slowly. "Yeah. Hogwarts is magic. But it's not... simple magic."

They sat in an easy silence. The stars tonight were just soft blurs behind thin clouds, but Victoire didn't mind. It still felt right, sitting here.

"Do you ever miss Shell Cottage?" she asked after a bit.

"All the time," Teddy said without even thinking. "Especially when Hogwarts starts smelling like wet socks."

Victoire laughed. "And sea air is so much better?"

"Way better," he said, nudging her foot with his. "Even if the seagulls there are evil."

She giggled, the sound slipping out before she could catch it.

But the next question came out quieter. "Do you miss... how it used to be? All of us?"

Teddy was quiet longer this time. Longer than she expected.

"I do," he said finally. "But it's like... you blink, and everyone's taller. Smarter. Braver. You can't really go back."

Victoire stared down at her hands. "I don't want to go back."

"Me neither," Teddy said. "But sometimes I wish I'd noticed more. Before it changed."

The wind stirred Victoire's hair, and she tucked it behind her ear without thinking.

"I liked the shortcut race today," she said after a moment. "Even when Hunter almost faceplanted into that armor."

Teddy snorted. "He swears it moved on purpose."

"Maybe it did," Victoire said, grinning.

He turned a little, watching her in the half-light. His face was open, softer than usual.

"You're... you're doing better than you think," Teddy said, shrugging awkwardly. "You've got people now. That's half the battle, right?"

Victoire blinked. "I'm not. Not always."

"Nobody is," Teddy said. "But you're finding your people. You're making your own way. That's what matters."

She swallowed, hard. "You don't have to say that."

"I'm not saying it because I have to," he said. "I'm saying it because it's true."

Their eyes met, and for a second, it was like everything else—the castle, the cold, even the sky—faded out.

"You're still my Vic," Teddy said, voice low. "Even if you're growing faster than I can catch up."

She smiled, a little watery. "You're still my Teddy."

They sat there a while longer, letting the clouds slide across the stars above them.

When the curfew bell finally chimed, Teddy stood and offered her a hand up.

Victoire took it, her small fingers curling into his, and together they walked slowly back toward the castle—no rush, no need to fill the quiet.

Some things were changing.
But some things stayed.
And maybe, she thought, that was enough.

The corridor outside Charms was buzzing with noise and the scent of pumpkin spice charms gone slightly wrong.

Victoire waited by the wall, her heart doing a nervous little dance.

Teddy rounded the corner, laughing at something Hunter said. When he spotted her, the laugh softened into a crooked smile.
Almost shy.

Hunter gave Teddy a pointed look and peeled off toward the staircase.

Teddy slowed, stopping in front of her.
"Hey."

"Hey," Victoire said, her smile tugging up on its own.

She shifted her bag higher.
"I was thinking... maybe this weekend we could..."
She hesitated.
"...hang out? Just us?"

Teddy froze for a split second, and then quickly scratched the back of his neck.

"I dunno, Vic," he said, fumbling. "I mean... the group stuff's been fun, right? Everyone together and... it's easier that way."

He said it like it should make sense. Like it didn't mean anything more than that.

Victoire's heart stumbled.
She swallowed.
"Yeah," she said, too quickly. "Of course. Group stuff. Totally."

Teddy looked relieved for half a heartbeat—then guilty.

"It's not bad," he said awkwardly. "It's just... things change a little. That's all."

Victoire smiled too brightly. "Right. Totally. Growing up."

She stepped back before she could embarrass herself further.

"I'll see you," she said, clutching her books a little tighter.

Teddy watched her go, his hand half-lifting like he wanted to stop her—but no words came.

Victoire walked fast, weaving through the crowd.
If she could just get around the next corner, maybe she could breathe again.

Behind her, Teddy stared at the spot she'd left, wishing he understood how to fix something he couldn't even name.

Victoire barely remembered climbing the Ravenclaw stairs.

Her bag thumped against her leg the whole way up, and she mumbled the eagle door's riddle without even thinking about it.

The common room was noisy—someone had spelled paper bats to divebomb the chairs, and Ellie's laugh floated over from a corner—but Victoire didn't stop.

She went straight to her dormitory, tugged the hangings around her bed shut, and flopped down hard enough to make the mattress squeak.

For a second, she just lay there, staring up at the soft, enchanted stars blinking on the ceiling.

Her chest felt too full. Like if she breathed wrong, everything might spill out.

She grabbed her journal from under her pillow and opened to a blank page. Her quill scratched unevenly as she wrote:

October 27th
I thought today would be good. I thought maybe... it would feel normal again.
I don't think it ever will now.

She paused, the words blurring a little.

He didn't even mean it mean. But it still hurt. I just wanted it to be like before.

She jammed the journal shut and shoved it back under her pillow.

For a minute, she thought about going back downstairs. About pretending nothing happened.

But her legs didn't want to move.

The stars above her bed twinkled gently, tiny and far away.

Victoire curled into a ball under her blanket, tucking her arms close. She could hear the buzz of voices from the common room below—Ellie laughing, someone clapping—but it all felt too far away to reach.

She squeezed her eyes shut.

She told herself it wasn't a big deal. That it didn't really matter. But it mattered more than she wanted it to.

The Hufflepuff common room was warm and noisy, but Teddy felt like he was somewhere else entirely.

Hunter and Max were half-heartedly tossing Exploding Snap cards onto the floor, letting them fizzle instead of playing properly. Crystal and Zoe were arguing across a low table about whether it was smarter to hide sweets inside hollow books or behind portraits.

Teddy sat curled into one of the squashy armchairs near the fire, picking at a loose thread on his sleeve. He wasn't really hearing any of it.

All he could hear was himself, over and over:

"It's just... different now. You've got your friends, I've got mine."

He pressed his fingers into his forehead like he could scrub the memory out.

Across the room, Hunter caught the grimace. He nudged Max, who glanced over too. Zoe noticed last—her eyes narrowing as she stood up and crossed the room.

Without asking, Zoe dropped onto the arm of Teddy's chair and poked him in the side with her wand.

"Oi. Broody McBrooderson. Talk."

Teddy groaned and slouched lower. "I'm not brooding."

"You so are," Hunter said, flopping onto the carpet at his feet. "It's coming off you like stink from a Dungbomb."

Zoe poked him again. "Spill."

Teddy let his head thunk back against the chair. "I said something really stupid to Victoire."

"How stupid?" Max asked, not even looking up from flipping a card between his fingers.

"Like... told-her-things-are-just-different-now stupid."

The group winced like he'd thrown a Bludger at them.

Hunter let out a low whistle. "Mate. That's rough."

Zoe shook her head, but there was no real anger in it. "You absolute walnut."

Teddy dragged his hands down his face. "I didn't mean it like that. It just came out."

"You basically told her there's no space for her anymore," Hunter said bluntly. "Of course she's hurt."

Teddy winced. "I thought maybe... maybe it'd make it easier? If she thought I was fine without her?"

Zoe crossed her arms. "You're such a boy."

Max added, voice steady, "She doesn't want you to disappear. She wants to know if she still matters."

Teddy stayed silent, staring into the fire.

After a long beat, Hunter leaned over and clapped him hard on the shoulder. "You're allowed to miss her too, you know."

Teddy didn't smile, but something in his chest loosened.

Maybe he couldn't fix it perfectly. Maybe he couldn't make it like it used to be. But he could show her he was still here. And maybe, for now, that was enough.

The courtyard was cooler now, the crisp air nipping at hands and noses. Late afternoon sunlight slanted low across the stone, gilding the grass and the carved arches in soft gold.

Victoire sat with her back against the wall, knees tucked to her chest, while Daniel, Ellie, and Josie sprawled out nearby, soaking up the last scraps of warmth. None of them seemed in any rush to head back inside.

"Alright," Ellie declared, waving a crumpled scroll like a battle flag. "Halloween decorations. Hear me out."

Josie groaned. "If you say glitter, I'm leaving."

"No glitter," Ellie promised solemnly. "Tasteful chaos."

Daniel looked up from his book, eyebrow raised. "Define tasteful chaos."

"Bats, floating pumpkins, maybe some dancing skeletons if I can sneak them past the Prefects," Ellie said, counting on her fingers.

Victoire laughed—really laughed—for the first time in days. It startled her a little, how easy it was, sitting here in the fading light.

"I think the common room could use it," Victoire said. "It's been too serious lately."

"See?" Ellie said, pointing triumphantly. "Victoire agrees. Democracy wins."

Josie shrugged. "Fine. But if a skeleton tries to do the cha-cha near my homework, I'm hexing it."

"Noted," Ellie said, already scribbling down ideas.

They stayed like that for a while—talking nonsense, teasing, plotting mayhem. No talk of classes. No talk of pressure. Just soft laughter and silly plans.

Victoire leaned her head back against the cool stone, letting the sound of her friends' voices wash over her.

This.
This was what she wanted.

Not everything perfect. Not everything solved. Just belonging. Quiet and real.

When she opened her eyes again, something caught at the corner of her vision.

Across the courtyard, near the library entrance—Teddy.

He wasn't looking directly at her. He was half-turned, laughing at something Hunter said. But just for a moment, he glanced her way.

And for just that heartbeat, their eyes met.

It wasn't a big thing.
It wasn't a declaration.
But it was enough.

Victoire didn't wave. Didn't force a smile. She just let the look settle between them, light and real, and then turned back to her friends.

Ellie nudged her. "Vic?"

"Yeah?"

"You're in charge of pumpkins," Ellie said, handing her a very squashed sketch of a pumpkin with fangs. Above them, a bewitched bat dipped low before flapping off toward the turrets, its wings trailing sparks of golden dust.

Victoire grinned. "I accept this terrifying responsibility."

The wind tugged at her hair as they gathered their things and wandered toward the castle.

There would be harder days. There would be awkwardness and growing pains and messy feelings.

But there would also be this.

And today, that was enough.