Late July on the Côte d'Azur. The sunlight turned the sea into liquid gold, sweet as honey.
Julien floated on his back in the waters of Starfall Cove, letting the warm sea cradle his body.
The eagle-headed hound totem on the inside of his right wrist had stayed dormant for a full month—ever since they slotted the star fragment into the groove on the stone door. The ghostly blue light had swallowed the entire underwater city, and Evan Rosier's ghost had appeared one last time, giving them a silent nod before fading away.
Nearly a month had passed since then.
"Julien! Catch!"
Rosier's voice rang out from the beach. Before he could turn, a wet starfish smacked him right in the face.
"Elizabeth!" He wiped his face, the salty water stinging his eyes. "How old are you?"
"Older than you, Mr. Black." Rosier stood in the knee-deep water, her deep-green gauzy dress soaked and clinging to her legs.
She was still holding another starfish, wearing that smug little smile that always left Julien both annoyed and helpless. "Who told you to steal my seashell with a Levitation Charm?"
"That was fair competition!"
"Two twelve-year-olds," Liriya's voice drifted from the shore.
She sat cross-legged on a sun-baked rock, weaving some kind of Northern flower-knot with seaweed in her hands. "Hogwarts' young witches and wizards, throwing starfish at each other. If the Daily Prophet got a photo…"
"They wouldn't bother with us," Rosier said, flipping her wet hair. Water droplets caught the sunlight and made a tiny rainbow. "We've already 'deeply hidden our names and selves,' haven't we?"
She'd said the last part in Chinese—her pronunciation was awkward but accurate. Julien had taught both girls the line last month, and Rosier had remembered it perfectly, using it to tease him ever since.
"Your Chinese is getting better. You've got a real talent for languages," Julien said, swimming back to the shallows and walking up the soft sand.
"My grandmother speaks seventeen languages," Rosier replied. Her voice suddenly grew quieter.
Julien caught the subtle shift in her tone. Over the past month, Rosier had mentioned her grandmother—Ophelia Rosier—several times.
Ophelia Rosier was Elizabeth's great-aunt, the unmarried head of the current Rosier family. Everyone in the family called her "Grandmother."
In her youth, Ophelia had followed Grindelwald and done many dark things in his service.
But toward Elizabeth, she had shown nothing but kindness since their first meeting the previous summer. Every time Elizabeth spoke about her, her expression grew complicated—mixing affection, confusion, and a hint of wary caution.
"Your grandmother…" Julien began carefully.
"She sent another letter today," Rosier said. "Not to the Côte d'Azur—this one came straight to me. A family messenger. A special breed of raven that can pierce any protective charm to find a blood descendant."
Liriya stopped weaving and looked over, her ice-blue eyes curious. "What did she say?"
Rosier didn't answer right away. She pulled a shimmering silver envelope from her small beach bag.
When she unfolded the parchment, Julien noticed her fingertips were trembling slightly.
"'My dear Elizabeth,'" Rosier read softly, "'the Black Forest in Bavaria is in full bloom. Your return has given the old castle breath again. But remember—one pair of eyes can only see so much. Invite that young man from the Black family. I have… certain stories about his ancestors that I would like to tell him in person.'"
She looked up, her ice-gray eyes meeting Julien's directly. "She's inviting you to Germany. Bavaria. The Rosier family's ancestral castle."
"She's inviting me? Your grandmother knows we're here?" Julien was surprised. Elizabeth had mentioned last summer that her grandmother wanted her to invite friends, but he'd assumed it was just polite talk.
"She knows everything," Rosier said, a trace of bitterness in her voice. "Or at least, she thinks she does."
---
Three days later, Munich train station.
Liriya's goodbye was shorter than expected. Although she and Elizabeth had become good friends, she still held no fondness for the Rosier family and had no intention of visiting their home.
The Northern girl gave Elizabeth a tight hug, then turned to Julien. "Be careful of the things you cannot see."
"Is that a Luna-style warning?" Julien tried to lighten the mood—Luna's odd remarks were already famous at Hogwarts.
"No," Liriya's expression was unusually serious. "This is a warning from the North."
"I'm sorry, Elizabeth," she added, looking at Rosier. "It's nothing against your family. I used a Northern divination method for both of you and sensed something unpleasant. Divination isn't my strongest gift, but still… be careful."
Julien wanted to say more, but Liriya had already turned and boarded the train. Her silver-white hair fluttered in the platform breeze like a flag about to disappear.
"She likes you," Rosier said suddenly.
"What?"
"Don't play dumb." Rosier stared into his eyes. "People from the North don't give away the 'Tear of Evernight' lightly. It's a piece of their soul—an anchor of the aurora in the material world. Giving it to you means…"
She didn't finish, but Julien understood. He looked down at the faintly glowing crystal around his neck and felt its heavy weight.
---
The Rosier family castle lay deep within the Black Forest of Bavaria. Distant mountain ridges twisted in the twilight, swallowing the last rays of sunset into the valley.
When the carriage finally stopped before the castle gates, Julien understood what Elizabeth had meant—the place didn't exist on any Muggle map, just like Hogwarts.
The entire building was shrouded in an ancient Confundus Charm. From a distance it looked like ordinary cliffs, but the moment you stood before it, the stone walls, towers, and spires slowly materialized like a faded oil painting coming back to life.
Julien stood at the entrance and took it in. The castle resembled a withered rose—its main black stone structure held a sickly kind of elegance, with spires and arches forming thorn-like silhouettes in the dusk.
Deep-purple vines crawled across the outer walls, their leaves rustling in the evening breeze like countless whispering ghosts.
Most striking of all was the family crest above the main gate: a withered rose branch entwined with stars.
The petals had long since fallen, leaving only sharp thorns and dry vines, yet it still carried a strange, almost proud dignity.
"Welcome to Rosenkreuz Castle," Rosier said quietly, her voice carrying a gravity Julien had never heard from her before. "We also call it Thornrose Castle. It has been the Rosier family home since the Middle Ages."
The main doors were two massive black iron gates covered in intricate runes. Julien recognized a few of them—ancient magical symbols for "guardianship" and "exploration."
The gates stood open, as if they had been waiting for their arrival.
A figure stood in the doorway.
It was the perfect image of an old butler. He was tall and thin, dressed in a well-tailored dark gray tailcoat. His silver-white hair was combed impeccably and tied into a neat bun at the back of his head.
His face held a cultured, gentle politeness—the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes seemed precisely measured, and his smile hovered perfectly between warm and distant.
"Young mistress," he bowed slightly to Rosier, his voice smooth as aged sherry. "You have returned. And this must be Mr. Black?"
"Yes, Sebastian," Rosier nodded. "Is Grandmother waiting for us?"
"The old lady is taking tea in the Star Chamber," Sebastian said. His gray-blue eyes, glinting behind his spectacles, turned to Julien with an unreadable gleam. "She specifically instructed me to bring Mr. Black… along with you."