The next morning, the Ombrelune dining hall was awash with the soft clatter of cutlery and the hum of conversation as Ombrelune's students settled into their second day back at Beauxbâtons. The scent of freshly baked bread and spiced berry compote drifted through the air.
Eira entered quietly, her white hair still damp from her early shower, eyes scanning the room as she clutched a simple ceramic plate. At first, she saw only unfamiliar faces—new students, clusters of chattering girls—but then, in the far corner of the hall, near the frosted windows, she caught sight of Fleur Delacour, seated alone.
A quiet smile curved across Eira's lips. She made her way over swiftly.
"Morning, Fleur," Eira said as she approached. "Where were you during the Welcoming Ceremony? I looked for you all evening yesterday, but you were nowhere to be found."
Fleur looked up, and her eyes lit up with genuine delight. She rose gracefully from her chair and wrapped Eira in a brief but warm hug.
"Oh, I missed you , Eira," she said, pulling back slightly. "How are you? Are you feeling well?"
"Of course I am," Eira replied with a light laugh. "Now answer my question—where were you hiding?"
Fleur sighed, sinking back into her seat. "Well… my grandmother had a duel. I had to be there with Maman."
Eira raised a brow, intrigued. "A duel? What for?"
Fleur leaned in slightly, lowering her voice even though no one was close enough to overhear. "You know my grandmother is the leader of the Veela Gathering—the official representative of our kind. Every few years, a ceremonial event is held where any Veela with legitimate blood can challenge the reigning leader for the title."
Eira blinked. "You're telling me someone tried to overthrow your grandmother?"
"Seven someones," Fleur said, with a proud gleam in her eyes. "But she won. Of course she did. She's a pure Veela—her magic is incredibly powerful. She defeated all seven challengers. Back to back. Without a single break."
Eira gave a low whistle. "That's… actually quite impressive."
Fleur smiled brightly. "She's beyond impressive. She's magnificent. One day, I'll introduce you to her. I think she'll like you a lot."
"I'll be looking forward to it," Eira said warmly, before turning toward the buffet line. "Give me a moment—I'm starving."
After returning with a plate of roasted tomatoes, eggs, and a warm croissant, Eira sat beside Fleur once more. The two girls continued their breakfast in quiet comfort, until Fleur broke the silence.
"This year's going to be brutal," she muttered. "I'll be incredibly busy."
Eira glanced at her. "Busy with what?"
Fleur exhaled dramatically. "OWLs. This is my fifth year, Eira. I'll be studying non-stop. The pressure's going to be worse than any year before. Honestly, I'm not ready."
"You'll manage," Eira said with an encouraging smile. "You're brilliant when you put your mind to something, of course if you work hard ."
Fleur rolled her eyes. "When did I ever say I wouldn't try? I'll work, but still—why do we even take those exams now? Why not at graduation? Such a waste of stress. And I don't even know if it'll help. What if no one hires me?"
Eira raised a brow. "You? Not getting hired?"
"Well," Fleur continued with a frown, "I certainly don't want to work in the French Ministry. I don't have the patience to smile politely while some wrinkled old wizard stares at me like I'm dessert. If I had to deal with that every day, I'd probably end up hexing someone—and I doubt the Ministry would appreciate that."
Eira burst into laughter. "Don't worry, dear. If you ever need a job, I'll hire you myself."
Fleur grinned at that. "Oh? You'd do that?"
"Of course," Eira said airily. "You'll be my assistant."
"And how much will you pay me?" Fleur asked, tilting her head with a smirk. "And what exactly will this position entail, Madame White?"
"That depends entirely on how well you perform," Eira replied with mock-seriousness, raising her chin. "I'm a fair employer. If you do your tasks well, I might even take you along on vacation trips to the Muggle world—in every country."
Fleur narrowed her eyes, playful. "I'll accept your offer on one condition."
"Which is?"
"You pay me handsomely… and you have to take me to the Muggle world. Paris, Tokyo, New York—everywhere."
Eira chuckled, sipping her tea. "Only if your résumé includes perfect OWLs and NEWTs."
Fleur gave an exaggerated sigh. "You haven't even become my boss yet and already you're piling on requirements. Poor me. If I do take the job, what will become of me?"
Eira smiled, a quiet kind of fondness in her voice. "I believe in you. You can do it. After all, you're Fleur Delacour."
Their eyes met for a moment—something soft and unspoken passing between them—before both girls stood, brushing off their skirts and gathering their bags.
"Come on," Eira said, adjusting the strap over her shoulder. "Time for classs."
"Let's hope Professor Voclain's in a good mood today, I have potions class and I hate it " Fleur murmured as they exited the hall side by side.
With the morning sun shining through the windows of Ombrelune's hall and the soft breeze drifting through the open courtyard arches, the second day of the school year had begun.