After eating a light lunch of a soft roll, some cheese, and a small apple, Eira brushed her hands and mouth with a napkin, tidying herself before leaving the Great Hall. She stepped out into the bright courtyard and began walking toward the outer grounds of the castle.
The Hogwarts yard stretched wide, dotted with gardens, winding paths, and patches of grass. Magical creatures flitted and hopped about, some chasing one another in playful loops, others tumbling over the grass in clumsy little jumps. One tiny, round creature rolled across the lawn, letting out a series of high-pitched squeaks, while a pair of winged sprites zipped around a fountain, tugging at one another's tiny cloaks as if playing a game.
Eira walked slowly, smiling at the amusing sight after sight. A spotted creature waddled past her, tripping over its own feet and flapping its tiny wings to stay upright. Another one perched atop a low wall and sneezed a little puff of glitter, which made a few nearby sprites scatter in surprise.
She strolled along the paths, pausing occasionally to watch a creature do something particularly funny, then continued, enjoying the light, cheerful bustle of the yard. There was nothing to worry about—just her and the playful antics of the magical creatures around her.
As she approached the lake, she paused to watch the creatures that glided above the water, their reflections shimmering faintly in the dark surface. A sudden voice, smooth and controlled, cut through the quiet.
"Isn't it very rude for a gentleman to stalk a girl?" Eira said sharply, her tone neither angry nor accusing, but precise, demanding an answer.
From behind a large tree, a tall figure emerged, expression carefully neutral but betraying just the faintest unease at being caught. He stopped several feet away, his posture relaxed yet deliberate.
"I've been walking for some time," she said, "and since I came out of the Great Hall, I realized that someone was following me. So what reason do you have for following me, Mr. Rowen?"
He glanced at her, a subtle restraint in his posture. "I wanted to introduce myself to you," he said, "that's why I've been following you."
Eira's eyes narrowed, suspicion sharpening her features. "We've seen each other a few times," she said, her voice steady but edged. "We've come face to face, and you completely ignored me—except for the rare times you glanced my way in the Great Hall. More than that… I don't think you ever tried to introduce yourself, though you had a couple of chances. So… tell me. Why are you following me?"
He exhaled slowly, a deliberate, measured sigh that betrayed a trace of tension beneath his calm exterior. "Alright," he admitted quietly, "you got me. Actually… I've been instructed to."
Eira tilted her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "Interesting. You know, I already know quite a lot about you—my assistant was remarkably efficient. Top of your class at Ilvermorny, Horned Serpent house, which is known for valuing the mind and scholarly pursuits. Middle child, always with a book in hand, and somehow effortlessly drawing people to you with your eloquent style of speaking. A few years back, I saw your grandfather, Thaddeus Rowen, at the duel between the Trévér and Voclain families. Many of the younger Rowens were with him, and I caught sight of your older brother—but not you. Not surprising, considering your scholarly nature."
Isaac's expression remained composed, unwavering.
"You were engaged," Eira began, her voice calm and measured, but with just the faintest lift at the edge, a subtle tease. "To Harper Whitmore, if I remember correctly. The two of you were notorious at Ilvermorry—constantly at odds, arguing over the smallest things, sometimes even coming to blows. It became a family matter more than once; your elders had to step in to prevent… unfortunate consequences."
She let a small pause hang in the air, just enough to let him squirm under the quiet precision of her words. "And then, last year, the engagement ended. On the surface, one might think she made the decision, but in truth, it seems both families quietly agreed it was best to annul—and that it was largely your protest that sealed the arrangement. Your determination came at a cost: I hear one of your family's dragon farms in Romania had to transfer to the Whitmores as part of the settlement. Quite the price to pay for independence, wouldn't you say?"
Her lips curved in a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "All in all, it paints quite the picture of your… temperament. Passionate, perhaps, but difficult to manage."
Isaac's lips curved into a soft smile."I must admit," he said, his voice edged with amusement, "I never expected to find myself… under investigation by you. I suppose I should be flattered—or perhaps a little wary."
He leaned on the tree slightly, eyes glinting, as if weighing whether to be amused, intrigued, or both. "I didn't think anyone would bother tracing my… illustrious past so thoroughly. But you seem quite thorough, Miss White."
Eira's eyes narrowed slightly, a faint glimmer of amusement in her gaze. "I must say, your transfer here was… quite the event. When I looked into it, I discovered that your grandfather personally petitioned Dumbledore to approve your transfer. It wasn't a quiet matter—your coming here made waves across the United States. The magical press speculated endlessly. The New York Wandsman, The Boston Enchanter, even The Chicago Spellcaster ran pieces about it. Everyone seemed to wonder why a student of your… reputation would leave Ilvermorry for here."
She looked at the Black lake, voice still calm but pointed. "It was suspicious enough that I thought it warranted further… investigation."
Isaac let out a low chuckle. "Ah," he said, voice smooth, "so the American papers had their fun, did they? I always wondered how many of them got the details right, and how many just invented scandal for the sake of a story. The New York Wandsman, you say… yes, I seem to recall they had a field day. Makes one wonder what people really think when no one asks the subject themselves."
He gave her a slow, calculating look, amusement flickering in his eyes. "I suppose, in a way, you've just joined the ranks of those speculators."
Eira's expression remained serene. "Why did you follow me? Surely there is more than curiosity or coincidence."
Isaac's eyes met hers with quiet honesty. "As I said, I am instructed. My grandfather wishes for me to… influence you. Make you favorable to me."
Eira paused, blinking once in surprise. Her lips twitched into the faintest of smiles. "Influence me? You are serious?"
He inclined his head. "Entirely. I am to ensure you… find me appealing."
Eira let out a short, controlled laugh, one of quiet amusement rather than scorn. "Are you joking? Or mocking me?"
"Neither," Isaac said evenly. "I am candid. My grandfather's instructions are clear. I am to seduce you. To make you… acquiescent, or favorable."
He removed a small violet-colored artifact from his robes, holding it out casually. "Here is proof. It is given by my grandfather. Its effect is to sway the emotions of its target to render them more susceptible to… attachment, or favorable sentiment."
Eira's expression softened into mild amusement as she regarded it. "An artifact to manipulate emotions. I expected nothing less subtle from a family of your stature. Yet… it will have no effect on me. I am well protected against such methods. Charming as it may be, it is irrelevant."
Eira blinked, processing the words. " So your whole purpose for transferring here… was… to seduce me? That's what your grandfather… assigned you?"
Isaac nodded, his expression calm and unwavering. "Yes. That was the plan. But I have no intention of following it blindly. I came to Hogwarts with that purpose, nothing more."
Eira tilted her head, curiosity sparkling in her eyes. "Isn't it usually… you know, like this?" She looked at him and then turned to face the Black lake, as if preparing to narrate a story. "First, you meet someone. Maybe you talk a little, get to know each other. Then, slowly… you become friends. Share time together. Laugh, argue, annoy each other a bit… the usual friendship stuff." She tapped her finger against her chin, smirking.
"And only after that," she continued, her voice playful, "do you realize that maybe… just maybe… the other person wasn't entirely honest with you. They were pretending to be friendly for some… secret reason—maybe a family order or some hidden agenda. Then, naturally, you get angry. You cry, maybe even yell. Hate them a little. And finally… after a proper apology, the drama resolves itself."
She tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly, lips curved in amusement. "But here you are, telling me everything on the very first meeting. No suspense, no slow-burn betrayal… nothing. Just straight to the big reveal. Fast-forward mode, huh? Bit… unconventional, don't you think?"
Isaac shrugged. "I don't have time for that kind of… procedure. I refuse to be a pawn in my grandfather's schemes. That's why I told you. Straightforward. No pretense."
Eira regarded him silently for a moment. "And… doesn't that count as betrayal? I mean, if you don't follow your grandfather's orders, that would be… wrong, right?"
He shook his head lightly. "I don't care about betraying my family. Their schemes, their expectations—they are irrelevant to me. I simply won't be used. That's why I told you. So you understand, should anything from them affect you in the future."
Eira's lips curved slightly. "I see… so this is… defiance."
"Exactly," he said, his tone steady. "No one else needs to be involved. No apologies, no hidden agendas. Just transparency and my own choice. I care only about a calm life, my books, and finding someone important to me. Nothing else."
Eira considered this, letting his words settle. "Well… that is certainly direct. I suppose there's a first time for everything—someone coming to Hogwarts and explaining their family's schemes right away."
Isaac gave a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "Honesty is simpler than deception. Defiance is easier than manipulation. That's all."