The morning came gently.
Eira stirred awake in the soft glow of the enchanted ceiling above their bed, where stars were slowly fading into dawn. She shifted slightly, realizing Fleur was still nestled close beside her, their arms tangled in the blankets. Fleur's hair spilled like silver-gold silk across the pillow, catching the light of morning as though it had been spun by the sun itself.
For a long moment, Eira simply watched her sleep. There was a serenity in the gentle rhythm of Fleur's breathing, in the faint, unconscious smile that lingered on her lips even in dreams. For the past month, ever since they had begun sharing a bed, every morning was the same—Eira waking first, only to lose herself in quietly observing Fleur as she slept. Sometimes minutes passed, sometimes hours, and still she would remain there, eyes full of love and affection, unable to tear herself away.
Since Valentine's Day, when they had finally confessed their feelings, everything had shifted for Eira. The world felt different now, fuller and brighter, and Fleur had become the very center of it. The thought of losing her—of Fleur leaving, or worse, something happening to her—was unbearable. Even imagining such a scenario made Eira's chest tighten until she could hardly breathe. She realized, with a trembling kind of awe, that she was utterly addicted to this girl. This adorable, stubborn, radiant girl, who now lay nestled in her arms, sleeping peacefully as if she belonged there.
Eventually, Fleur blinked awake, her blue eyes heavy with drowsiness until they focused on Eira's face. A small smile bloomed.
"Bonjour…" she whispered softly, voice husky with sleep.
Eira smiled back. "Good morning."
Fleur stretched lazily, then immediately curled closer again, unwilling to let the warmth go. "We have breakfast waiting, yes?"
"I hope so," Eira chuckled. "If Emma had the servants prepare it last night, then definitely."
They finally rose, dressing quickly before stepping out into the tent's main lounge. The long table was already laden with food—freshly baked bread steaming in baskets, pitchers of orange juice and pumpkin juice, platters of eggs, sausages, roasted tomatoes, and delicate pastries sprinkled with powdered sugar. The enchantments ensured everything stayed warm.
They sat side by side, sharing croissants and fruit. Fleur dabbed sugar from the corner of Eira's mouth with a napkin, giggling.
"You are messy," she teased.
"I am not," Eira protested, laughing.
After breakfast, the two of them went to bathe and change into fresh clothes. By the time they returned, the camp had already grown livelier, filled with the hum of voices, laughter, and the distant strains of music from enchanted instruments scattered around the grounds.
Eira settled into the main lounge of the tent, where the table was still cleared from their meal. Fleur emerged moments later, dressed neatly, her silvery hair cascading over her shoulders, and offered a smile that lit the room.
"So," Fleur said softly, sliding into the seat beside her, "what are we going to do until tonight, when the match begins?"
Eira returned her smile with ease. "Why not go out and look for Marin? I'm sure he must be here somewhere."
Fleur arched a delicate brow. "Among thousands of tents and people? That will not be easy."
"That's fine," Eira replied with a small shrug. "If we can't find him, at least we'll still get to walk around together and see what's happening. That's half the fun."
Fleur's lips curved into a warm grin. "Très bien. Walking with you sounds good enough for me."
They stood, brushing the wrinkles from their clothes, and were just about to step outside when a familiar voice came from the entrance of the tent.
"…I'm certain it was this one, Ginny. They said the White family had placed a private tent here."
Moments later, the tent's flap opened, and two figures stepped inside. At once, Eira recognized Hermione Granger, her familiar bushy hair tied back with a ribbon, her expression bright with excitement. Just behind her walked a girl Eira had not yet met—slightly shorter, with vivid ginger hair that tumbled to her shoulders, a light spray of freckles across her face, and striking green eyes that seemed to glow in the lamplight.
Eira's gaze lingered for a moment. Fleur, too, looked at the newcomer—her expression tightening ever so slightly as her eyes flicked over the red-haired girl at Hermione's side.
"Eira!" Hermione exclaimed, her whole face lighting up. "I finally found you!" Without hesitation, she rushed forward and pulled Eira into a hug, right in front of Fleur.
Eira laughed softly, returning the embrace. "Hermione… it's so good to see you."
When Hermione drew back, her eyes shifted to Fleur. She smiled politely and extended her hand. "And Fleur… it's good to see you too."
Fleur pressed her lips into a polite smile, taking the offered hand with a delicate grip. "Yes… it's good to see you too, Mrs. Granger." Her tone was calm, but there was a certain stiffness that made Eira glance at her curiously.
Hermione, seemingly unaware of the faint tension, turned back to Eira. "This is Ginny Weasley, my friend."
The red-haired girl stepped forward, her freckles warming as she blushed faintly. "H-Hello, Mrs. White," she said shyly, her voice soft. "It's… it's good to meet you. I've heard a lot about you from Hermione."
Eira's heart softened at the girl's shyness. She reached out and gently clasped Ginny's hand with both of her own, smiling warmly. "It's wonderful to meet you, Ginny. I'm very happy to know you. In fact, I remember Hermione mentioning your name during last summer's holidays."
Ginny's green eyes widened in surprise, then softened into a shy smile, her cheeks tinged pink.
The atmosphere eased as the four of them moved closer together, the beginnings of conversation already sparking between them.
*************
The girls settled around the table, plates and goblets floating into place at a gesture from Eira. Fleur remained close at her side, silent but observant, her hand occasionally brushing Eira's under the table.
Hermione leaned forward eagerly, her eyes bright. "You won't believe how happy Harry is these days. Ever since Sirius was proven innocent, it's like he's finally breathing freely again. He spends almost all his time with him now. He told me it feels like having a proper home for the very first time."
Eira's face softened with warmth. "That makes me very glad. The Boy deserves happiness after everything he's been through. So Mr. Black is always with him now?"
Hermione beamed. "Yes! He's so involved in Harry's life—always guiding him, teaching him, and being there for him. It's like Harry finally has the father figure he's been missing all his life."
Ginny chimed in with a little laugh. "I know, right? At first, when I saw Sirius's face in the newspaper during the trial, I was terrified—he looked so intimidating. But once I met him properly, I couldn't believe how different he is. He's actually hilarious, always cracking jokes. And when he's with Harry… he's so fatherly, so protective. You can just see how much he loves him. It's really sweet."
Hermione's smile widened, and then she suddenly remembered something. "Oh, and Eira—thank you. I mean it. Thank you for saving Buckbeak. When his life was spared and he was returned, Hagrid cried from sheer happiness. He kept saying he wanted to write you a letter of appreciation, though I don't think he's managed it yet."
Eira chuckled gently, her expression kind as she leaned back in her chair. "I'm glad to hear that, truly. If it made Hagrid happy, then it was worth every effort. I was the one who investigated the whole situation and uncovered that Buckbeak was innocent—that it was Draco who exaggerated the incident. And since I am also a school governor, it's my responsibility to protect the school's creatures and property, and to defend what is right."
Her voice softened as she looked at Hermione. "And since you asked, Hermione… I'd do anything for a friend like you. You don't need to thank me."
"That's exactly what I told him," Hermione said, eyes shining with gratitude.
Ginny nodded, smiling. "Hagrid wouldn't stop talking about Buckbeak for days. He told everyone he saw, 'My Buckbeak's safe thanks to Miss White!' He even bought extra rock cakes to celebrate. Though… I wouldn't recommend trying them."
The girls laughed together at that, the sound filling the tent with a warm, easy cheer.
Hermione leaned her elbows on the table, looking around with wonder. "I can't believe you're staying here in a tent like this. It's practically a palace inside."
Ginny nodded in agreement. "The Burrow's cozy, but this… this is something else. I can't imagine living like this during the World Cup."
Eira smiled modestly. "It's just a tent, really. Though I suppose House White makes sure things are… comfortable."
As the laughter and chatter carried on, Fleur reached for Eira's hand under the table, her delicate fingers twining possessively around hers. Eira glanced at her with a soft smile, slightly puzzled, but Fleur only lifted her chin with a sweet, knowing look, as if daring anyone to question her closeness.
*************
Ginny leaned back in her chair, excitement sparking in her eyes. "So, what do you think of the World Cup so far? Even though the match was postponed, the campsites are incredible. Did you see the Bulgarian supporters? They've got banners charmed with Viktor Krum's face—it actually winks at you."
Eira laughed, eyes bright with mischief. "I saw it! The Irish supporters had their leprechauns tossing gold into the air last night. Fleur nearly chased after a handful until she realized it disappeared after a minute."
"I did not!" Fleur protested at once, her cheeks tinged pink, though her eyes sparkled with amusement. "It was Emma who did that."
"You did," Eira teased mercilessly.
Fleur gave a scandalized gasp and swatted Eira's arm, though she couldn't quite keep the smile from tugging at her lips.
Hermione shook her head with a sigh, though her smile betrayed her amusement. "I've been trying to study some of the charms they're using for the mascots. It's fascinating—complicated illusion work, very advanced. And yet, most people only see the spectacle."
Ginny rolled her eyes fondly. "Trust Hermione to focus on the spellwork instead of the game."
Hermione raised her chin. "Well, someone has to appreciate the artistry of the magic."
"I appreciate the artistry of Krum's dives," Ginny countered, smirking.
They all burst out laughing.