They descended the hidden staircase beneath the city bridge, the Auror's hand firmly resting on Eira's shoulder. At the bottom, a narrow passageway opened to a plain, undecorated counter where a bored-looking witch sat, leafing through a stack of parchment.
The Auror stepped forward.
"Guten Morgen," he greeted her, and the two quickly fell into conversation—fast-paced German that Eira couldn't follow.
The witch raised an eyebrow as she glanced at Eira, then back at the Auror. A moment later, he pulled a small metallic badge from his coat and placed it on the counter. It gleamed dully—an Auror's insignia, unmistakable even to her.
The woman nodded and pressed her palm against the wall behind her. A soft hum echoed through the chamber, and the solid stone wall shimmered before it split down the middle and swung open with a quiet whoosh.
"Follow me," the Auror said in a low tone. "Don't wander. Don't talk. Just stay close."
Eira gave a small nod and silently stepped into the world hidden behind the veil.
She'd expected an underground fortress, perhaps a maze of high-security rooms or torchlit stone halls. But what unfolded before her eyes was… a garden.
A vast courtyard, brimming with life. A lush yard surrounded the grand Ministry building, where wide stone paths curved around trimmed hedges, enchanted rosebushes, and gurgling fountains that danced to invisible music. Birds flitted overhead, and Ministry workers bustled along the paths, robes flapping in the breeze, some holding scrolls, others wand-led briefcases floating behind them.
Eira slowed, her eyes wide.
"Is this… is that the German Ministry of Magic?" she asked quietly, tilting her head toward the large glass-and-stone structure beyond the courtyard.
The Auror glanced at her. "Yes. Welcome to it."
She kept walking, unable to stop her gaze from drifting. She saw a man leading a full-grown troll across the yard—a heavy iron collar around its neck, its steps slow but obedient.
The troll gave a grunt, sniffed the air, and kept following.
Eira blinked, confused. "Why is there a troll here? Inside the Ministry?"
The Auror glanced back and noticed her bewildered expression.
"It's a tamed one," he explained. "They bring them in for magical examination. If the creature passes behavioral enchantment testing, its owner is granted a Ministry permit to keep it."
"But… why would anyone want to keep a troll?" she asked, incredulous.
"Some use them for shows, magical circuses, or even magical construction labor. Rare, but it happens. That one's probably here for a license."
She nodded slowly. "That's… weird."
"You'll get used to it,if you stay here for long time " he muttered.
As they stepped through the large entrance doors of the Ministry building, the scene changed entirely. Eira had imagined something grand—glittering, ancient, mysterious.
But instead… it looked almost mundane.
Hallways of pale white stone. Paper-strewn desks. Wizards and witches in plain robes talking across cubicles. Small fireplaces occasionally roared green as people flooed in and out. The only hints of magic were floating memos, an enchanted clock ticking backwards, and a few moving portraits whispering softly to one another.
She followed him through two corridors and into a quiet office. It was plain—just a chair, a table, and a pitcher of water.
"Wait here," he instructed. "Someone will come and take your statement."
And with that, he left.
Eira sat. Time passed slowly. The hum of magic seemed dull in this place, as if the Ministry had buried wonder beneath layers of protocol.
Eventually, the door creaked open. A woman entered—older, perhaps in her sixties, with neatly pulled-back gray hair and sharp but not unkind eyes. She wore deep emerald robes and carried a wand tucked into her belt.
She sat across from Eira and gave a polite smile. "You're the girl found in the central forest, yes? I've read the preliminary report."
Her German accent was noticeable, but her English was fluent.
"May I ask what you were doing there?"
Eira met her eyes and took a breath. "I touched a portkey. I don't know who made it or where it came from. It brought me to that place… and then I was trapped. I escaped and followed the river."
The woman raised a brow. "Curious. But then, you told the Muggle police that your parents had abandoned you."
Eira leaned forward. "And what did you expect me to say? That I used a portkey? That I'm a witch? They're Muggles."
The woman paused… then nodded. "Fair enough. That was smart."
She opened a folder and glanced down. "Now, your real name, please. No aliases or false identities. I'm not here to play games."
Eira hesitated, then said clearly, "Eira White."
The woman froze at the sound of the name. "White… As in The White Family? From Britain?"
"Yes. Yes, I am."
The woman tilted her head slightly. "Can you prove it?"
Before Eira could answer, she felt something. A foreign presence, subtle but insistent—probing into her thoughts.
Her eyes narrowed.
Legilimency.
She immediately pushed back. Her Occlumency shields flared up, and the presence vanished like smoke in the wind.
She straightened and glared at the woman. "That was rude. You tried to read my mind."
The woman sat back. "It's standard protocol. Your story is unusual. We have to determine whether you're a danger."
"I'm eleven," Eira said flatly.
"And you're an eleven-year-old who just blocked a Legilimency probe with advanced Occlumency. That only makes me more cautious."
Eira reached into her sleeve and pulled free a silver band around her wrist. She tapped it, and it shimmered, transforming into a delicate badge bearing the White Fox crest of her family—the symbol of the House of White .
She placed it gently on the desk.
"This should be proof enough."
The woman blinked. She raised her wand and cast a verification charm. The badge glowed softly.
Then, with a hint of surprise, the woman said, "It's authentic. The heir's crest. You truly are a White."
She reached to touch it—but the moment her fingers grazed the badge, it flew back to Eira, who caught it and calmly reverted it to a wristband.
"No one can touch this," she said coolly, "unless they bear the blood of the White family."
The woman gave a short bow. "Then… this is no longer an interrogation. It is an official meeting."
Eira stood and nodded. "It wasn't the warmest welcome. But thank you nonetheless."
The woman gave a small smile. "We'll notify Beauxbâtons and the British Ministry at once. Of course, we can escort you to your school directly, but we need time to coordinate with the French Ministry. You understand, of course—diplomatic clearance and all that."
Eira paused. "Could I be taken to the French Ministry instead? From there, I can get to Beauxbâtons. It might be simpler."
"As you wish," the woman replied. "It will take a few hours to handle the formalities. You'll wait here until then. But you're safe now, Miss White."
"Thank you," Eira said softly.
The woman turned and left.
Eira sat once more, the badge now secure on her wrist again. The room grew quiet. The ticking of the clock marked the passing time.