The morning passed quickly, filled with stories—Hermione describing their recent days at the Burrow, Ginny recounting her attempts to join in on Quidditch practices with her brothers, Eira sharing some of her experiences at Beauxbâtons. Fleur contributed little, but she never left Eira's side, her hand frequently brushing against hers, her eyes flicking to Hermione and Ginny with a subtle wariness.
By the time noon came, Hermione began to rise. "We should probably head back. Ron and Harry will be wondering where we are."
Eira quickly shook her head. "Stay. Please. Have lunch with us. There's more than enough food, and you shouldn't miss it—it's better than anything out there in the camps."
Hermione hesitated. "Are you sure? We don't want to impose…"
"You're not imposing," Eira insisted gently. Her smile was open, her tone warm. "You're my friends. With me, you don't have to be polite or cautious—be free, be bold. Don't restrict yourselves in front of me. Even if we haven't had much time together, I already consider you good friends. So, please—sit."
Hermione blinked at her, almost as if she hadn't expected such unreserved kindness. Slowly, a smile spread across her face, one that softened her usual serious expression. "That's… very kind of you, Eira," she said, her voice quieter than usual, touched. "It means a lot."
Ginny, on the other hand, immediately grinned and plopped down into the nearest chair without hesitation. "Finally, someone who says it straight," she laughed, tossing her long red hair over her shoulder. "Usually it's all, 'Don't trouble yourself,' or 'We don't want to be a bother,' but you—" she pointed playfully at Eira, "—you just make it easy. I like that."
Fleur, watching from Eira's side, tilted her head with a soft, amused smile. She seemed pleased by Eira's openness but also quietly possessive, her hand brushing against Eira's under the table as though to remind her she wasn't the only one sitting here.
Hermione exchanged a look with Ginny, both of them smiling now, the earlier formality gone. The atmosphere around the table lightened, as if Eira's simple words had brushed away invisible walls.
Ginny grinned. "I'm not arguing with food that looks this good." She slid back into her chair without hesitation.
Soon the table filled again with steaming platters—roast chicken with rosemary, delicate soups that smelled of saffron, salads of enchanted fruits that sparkled faintly with starlight. The goblets refilled themselves with pumpkin juice and butterbeer.
Ginny's eyes widened. "This is the fanciest thing I've ever eaten."
Hermione nodded, looking half-dazzled, half-determined not to show it. "It's remarkable… the enchantments must be layered to keep it all fresh like this."
Eira smiled, breaking bread and passing it around. "Eat as much as you like. Isabella would scold me if I didn't share."
Laughter bubbled around the table as they dug in. The food was delicious but what made more delicious was to eat it with friends and loved ones.
**************
At one point, between bites of fruit and laughter at Ginny's attempt to impersonate her brothers' commentary on the last Chudley Cannons match, Eira leaned back slightly.
"I should probably tell you something," she said casually.
Hermione tilted her head. "What is it?"
"I'm transferring to Hogwarts this year."
There was a stunned silence. Hermione's fork clattered against her plate. "What? Truly?"
Eira nodded, grinning at her expression.
"That's wonderful!" Hermione exclaimed, her eyes sparkling. "But—oh, I can't imagine which House you'll be in. You'd do well in Ravenclaw, with your studies… or Gryffindor, for your courage… maybe even Slytherin, with your cleverness."
Ginny leaned forward, smirking. "Not Hufflepuff, then?"
Hermione shot her a look. "Hufflepuff is a noble house."
Ginny laughed. "I know, I know. But I'm curious too. Wherever you end up, it'll be interesting."
Eira smiled. "I'm curious myself. But no matter where, I'm glad I'll see you both more often."
Hermione reached across the table, squeezing her hand. "I'm so happy, Eira. Truly."
Fleur, though silent, tightened her hold on Eira's other hand beneath the table, her thumb brushing against her skin as though to remind her that some bonds went deeper than schools and Houses.
*****************
The meal stretched long into the afternoon. They spoke of Quidditch, of Hogwarts professors, of the books Hermione wanted to read and the tricks Ginny was learning from her brothers. Fleur even joined in occasionally, her dry remarks slipping into the conversation with perfect timing.
For those hours, the tent was filled with nothing but warmth, laughter, and the clinking of plates.
By the time Hermione and Ginny finally rose to leave, the sun was already dipping low in the sky.
"This was wonderful," Hermione said sincerely. "Thank you for inviting us, Eira."
"Anytime," Eira replied, smiling warmly.
Ginny grinned. "We'll see you tonight at the match, then."
"Definitely," Eira said.
The tent flap closed behind them, leaving Eira and Fleur alone once more. Fleur leaned against her, resting her head briefly on her shoulder.
"They like you a lot—especially Ginny," Fleur murmured softly, her voice carrying that lilting warmth she used only when it was just the two of them. She shifted closer, her hair brushing against Eira's cheek. "She suddenly turned from a shy girl into someone who speaks to you as if she has known you for ages."
Eira smiled, the expression gentle as she let her cheek rest against Fleur's silken hair. "I like them too," she replied thoughtfully. "Well, perhaps Ginny was simply reserved at first because she didn't know me clearly. But after spending some time together, she judged for herself and decided she could be open and comfortable with us. I admire that. At first, cautious… but once she weighs a person's character, she adjusts how she behaves. That's a very good trait to have."
Fleur tilted her head back to look at her, eyes gleaming in the soft light. "Mmm," she hummed, almost to herself. "So you noticed that."
Fleur narrowed her eyes suspiciously, her lips curving into the faintest pout. "Don't tell me you like Ginny already."
Eira grinned, deliberately playing into the suspicion. "Yes, I like her."
Fleur's eyes flashed, and she leaned in a little closer. "Are you liking her the way you like me… or just as a friend?"
Eira tilted her head, amusement dancing in her eyes. "What do you think?" she teased.
For a heartbeat Fleur just stared at her, then with sudden ferocity she seized Eira by the collar and pulled her forward. Their lips met in a kiss that was fiery, intent, and just a little dangerous. When she finally pulled back, her voice was low and certain. "There. I don't think she could ever do that."
Eira chuckled, laughter bubbling up as she brushed her thumb across Fleur's cheek. "Oh, so just jealous, huh? You're such a jealous little girl."
Fleur huffed, looking away with exaggerated annoyance, though the smirk tugging at her lips betrayed her. "Well, of course I have to be jealous. Since you are mine, I must protect you from other vultures who would try to take you from me."
Eira giggled at her possessive tone. "Don't worry. Actually, I should be the one saying that. You know, these last months you've been with me, I've noticed—your will has grown stronger. You can control your allure now. People don't stare or lose themselves around you the way they used to."
Fleur's expression softened, but her eyes gleamed with something secret. "That's the thing," she said quietly. "For Veela—especially for part-Veela like me—when we fall in love, we gain control over our allure. I can restrain it because I am in love with you."
Her thoughts darkened for a fleeting moment, though she kept her smile. Perhaps, she mused silently, 'if she doesn't understand my jealousy, I should let my allure run wild again—just to make her feel it. Let her see how it is, how much it burns in me, when she talks so freely with other girls.'
Her fingers tightened slightly around Eira's hand. 'Yes. Maybe then she'll know.'