In the glittering Star Hall of the Beauxbâtons Château, Eira stepped inside, her eyes drifting over the familiar grandeur. The domed ceiling shimmered with thousands of tiny, enchanted stars, casting a gentle, celestial glow across the long house tables below. Warmth and chatter filled the space as students, freshly returned from their holiday travels, reunited beneath the magical canopy. Laughter rang out. Greetings flew back and forth. It was the first day of the new term, and a grand welcoming feast had been prepared in Beauxbâtons' unique tradition.
Among the murmuring crowd, Eira spotted Fleur sitting at the Ombrelune table. She began making her way through the room, the hum of cheerful energy surrounding her.
At the front of the hall, the staff had already taken their places at the raised teachers' table. Now Madame Maxime stood, commanding the room's attention with her usual towering elegance as she addressed the gathered students.
"Welcome, all of you," she began, her voice echoing through the enchanted hall. "I hope you have had a warm and beautiful Christmas holiday with your families and loved ones. Though the day has passed, and unfortunately, there is some unrest in the French wizarding community, we will continue our journey together—united and untouched by the politics of the outside world. As is our tradition, we celebrate our Christmas upon returning to school. And so, tonight, we hold our beloved Christmas celebration."
Delighted murmurs rippled through the students.
"I welcome you all back to this new term of the school year," she continued. "May you study with renewed enthusiasm and passion in this final stretch. Please—enjoy the feast."
With a graceful wave of her wand, the great doors opened, and enchanted tables floated in, platters laden with rich and steaming food. Dishes from every magical region of France appeared in an instant—roast meats glistening with savory sauces, golden potatoes, baskets of warm, fresh bread, and a dozen more delicacies.
Marin, seated near Eira, leaned toward her with a serious expression. "So, how was your Christmas?" he asked. "I heard the Maison Blanche was burned at the Allée des Merveilles? Me and Mum were in Australia visiting our grandparents. When we came back—France had changed. Wars, burnings, killings. Such chaos."
Eira turned to him, offering a polite smile. "Well, it wasn't that big of a deal, actually. The hotel was already old, so the Trévér family did me a favor by burning it down for free. Even if they hadn't, I would have done it myself. I'm planning to build a new, luxurious hotel anyway. But… thanks for worrying, Marin."
Marin's lips twitched as he gave her a dry look. "So… that's it? That's all you'll say? Tsk. Damn, I hate you rich people. You lose hundreds of thousands of Galleons in property, and you just brush it off like it's pocket change."
Then, with a scoff, he turned away and began chatting with a girl seated nearby, who had been listening in with interest.
On Eira's other side, Fleur was watching her intently—so intently, in fact, that she barely blinked. Eira waved a hand in front of her friend's face, breaking Fleur out of her thoughts. Her cheeks had flushed slightly, though she quickly tried to cover it up by changing the subject as who knows what naughty thoughts she might had about Eira.
"Ahm, so, Eira—I really wanted to invite you to my house again, like last year's Christmas," Fleur said in one breath. "But you know, Mum said we shouldn't disturb you because of the hotel incident and… everything going on with the Trévér family."
Eira smiled warmly. "Ah, yes. I wanted to come too—or invite you. But some things came up at home, so I couldn't. And I did receive your gift. I loved it. See?" She gestured to her hair. "It's grown out to my shoulders now—and it's very pretty."
Fleur reached out and touched a lock of Eira's hair. "Yeah… I'm delighted to see you back to your usual hairstyle. Please—never cut it short again. It looks amazing this way."
Eira rolled her eyes in a dramatic fashion. "Come on. It wasn't that bad! Honestly, I really liked it short. It saved me time brushing it every day. Sure, you can style it with spells, but brushing makes it feel more natural."
Fleur smirked. "You can always come to my room. I'll brush it for you—so you don't have to worry."
"Then you'll suffer," Eira warned playfully. "I'll be waking you up at the crack of dawn. I want my hair done by breakfast, thank you very much."
Fleur laughed, leaning in mockingly. "Anything for you, my lady."
Eira smiled, not saying anything, but her expression softened.
At that moment, Marin piped up again. "Oh yeah, Eira—at least now you're desirable. For Merlin's sake, you looked just like one of those short old men before. If we'd given you a cane, you could've passed as one of those guys trying to escape their nagging wives. This long hair suits you. So, what do you say to my proposal? Want to go on a date?"
Fleur turned sharply to him. "First of all—how dare you compare her to an old man? Second—who are you to comment on her looks? And third—in your dreams would she go on a date with you. Heck, I wouldn't even let it happen in your dreams."
Unfazed, Marin grinned. "Chill, girl. If she won't go on a date with me, why don't you go instead? I've gained some experience since last year—you'd love our date."
Eira smirked and added, "Yeah, go on. Let's see what her suitors do to you. She's got more stalkers and obsessed boys than you can count. They'll eat you alive if they see you near her."
Marin froze, horror crossing his face. He imagined the mob of furious boys chasing him and shuddered. "Thanks, my friend," he said gravely. "Thank you for reminding me not to be stupid."
Fleur burst into laughter. "If you play around like that, you'll get more than you bargained for. Girls don't like me, and they can't do anything to me—so they'll come after you. And as for the boys… well, you already know."
Marin clutched his chest in exaggerated fear. "It was nice knowing you, my sisters."
Fleur rolled her eyes. "Idiot."
The feast continued. Eira reached for her favorite mango juice, sipping it through a straw and placing it back on the table. Absentmindedly—or perhaps intentionally—Fleur picked it up and drank from the same straw.
Eira blinked. "Oh, that's mine, Fleur. I mean… you can drink it, but I already used the straw…"
Fleur smiled, unfazed. "Oh, don't worry. I don't mind that your lips touched it. Besides, you have good taste."
"I love mango," Eira said simply, holding the straw between her fingers. "It's sweet."
Fleur's eyes lingered on Eira's lips. "Yes… you're right. It does have a sweet taste."
Eventually, dessert trays appeared—chocolate éclairs, cream-filled pastries, shimmering raspberry tarts enchanted to glow faintly.
Madame Maxime stood once more. "I hope you've all enjoyed this lovely dinner," she said. "Now, I invite you to dance with your companions if you wish. Music will begin shortly. And one last thing—welcome back to school, to new experiences, and to a new chapter of life."
She returned to her seat, and the soft hum of strings began to rise in the background. A gentle waltz flowed through the hall. Students stood, pairing off—some to dance, some to chat, and others to simply enjoy the moment. The Star Hall buzzed with life again, as the winter term of Beauxbâtons began beneath the twinkling sky.