The Daughter of Valancaire

The morning sunlight streamed through the dormitory windows, casting a golden hue on the stone walls. Samantha and I were bustling with excitement as we prepared for breakfast in the Great Hall. She hummed softly while brushing my hair, her usual energy restored after days of strain.  

Once she finished braiding and tying the loose ends, she suddenly held out a ribbon—ornate and delicate, adorned with intricate embroidery of tiny golden stars on a deep sapphire blue fabric.  

“What is this, Sam?” I asked, turning to look at her.  

She blushed furiously, a shy smile spreading across her face. “It’s... a gift,” she said quietly, avoiding my eyes.  

I stared at the ribbon in surprise. “You didn’t have to, but... thank you. It’s beautiful,” I said, running my fingers over the soft fabric.  

Her face lit up as she smiled back at me. “I thought it would suit you. And besides, we have a big morning ahead of us—we need to look our best!”  

Once we were ready, we made our way to the Great Hall, the scent of warm bread and fresh pastries greeting us even before we entered. The chatter of students filled the air, and I couldn’t help but feel my spirits lift.  

As we approached the Ravenclaw table, I spotted my friends waiting for me, their usual spot filled with familiar faces. It made me smile to see them all there, waiting together. They could sit anywhere, yet they always chose to gather here.  

When we reached the table, however, we were greeted with a lively scene—Sebastian and Jace locked in an animated debate, their voices rising just loud enough to catch the attention of those nearby.  

“Treacle tart is objectively the best dessert,” Sebastian declared, his fork in hand as though it were a weapon to defend his claim. “It’s perfectly sweet with just the right amount of tang. It’s a masterpiece!”  

Jace rolled his eyes dramatically. “Oh, please. Treacle tart is overrated. Have you ever had a proper chocolate cauldron cake? Rich, velvety, and absolutely irresistible. It’s not even a contest.”  

“Treacle tart has *history,* Jace,” Sebastian shot back, leaning forward. “It’s a dessert with depth. Cauldron cakes are just sugar bombs for people who lack sophisticated taste buds.”  

“Sophisticated?” Jace retorted, raising an eyebrow. “You’re calling *your* taste sophisticated? Weren’t you the one who said jelly slugs made for a balanced breakfast?”  

Sebastian flushed, sputtering, “That was one time! And I was *joking.*”  

By this point, Natty and Poppy were shaking with laughter, while Ominis sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Must we argue about desserts this early in the morning?” he muttered, though the corners of his lips twitched with amusement.  

I couldn’t hold back a laugh as I sat down. “Good morning to you, too,” I said, smiling at both of them.  

Jace looked at me and grinned. “Finally, someone reasonable! Jessa, tell Sebastian he’s wrong and that chocolate cauldron cakes are superior.”  

“Don’t drag her into this!” Sebastian protested, crossing his arms. “She has better taste than that.”  

“Actually,” I began, pausing to take a bite of toast, “I think I’ll just let you two continue. This is far too entertaining to interrupt.”  

____


As the laughter from Sebastian and Jace's dessert argument died down, Natty’s eyes drifted toward my hair. Her face lit up with a warm smile.  

“Jessa, your hair looks especially lovely today,” she said, leaning in to get a closer look. “And that ribbon—it’s beautiful. It suits you so well.”  

Samantha, sitting beside me, practically glowed with happiness at the compliment. “Oh, thank you, Natty!” she said, beaming. “I thought it would bring out her features more. I’m glad you like it.”  

Natty nodded enthusiastically. “It’s such a thoughtful touch. You have a good eye for these things, Samantha.”  

As I thanked them both, Poppy leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Hmm, Jessa,” she teased, a grin spreading across her face. “Are you looking extra dapper today because we have Potions class later? Trying to impress someone?”  

Her words caught me off guard, and I blushed instantly. “What? No! What do you mean?” I stammered, my cheeks growing warmer by the second.  

Poppy leaned back, tapping her chin in mock thought. “I don’t know... maybe Garreth? Oh! Or perhaps Professor Sharp!”  

The whole table burst into laughter at the idea, and I couldn’t help but bury my face in my hands. “Poppy!” I groaned, half-laughing, half-dying of embarrassment.  

“I’m just saying!” she said, giggling. “You *did* seem particularly focused on your hair this morning. It’s only fair to ask.”  

I glanced at Samantha, who was laughing quietly but refused to make eye contact, which only added to my flustered state.  

  the teasing continued, I noticed that Ominis and Sebastian were unusually quiet. Normally, they’d be the first to join in and relish my embarrassment, but instead, they were both sitting there—Ominis calmly sipping his tea while Sebastian poked idly at his breakfast.  

Narrowing my eyes suspiciously, I finally turned to them. “Alright, what’s going on? Are you two sick or something? This is the first time you haven’t taken the opportunity to torment me!”  

Sebastian blinked, startled, as if I had just broken him out of a daydream. “What? No, I’m fine,” he said quickly, though he avoided meeting my gaze.  

Ominis smirked faintly, his expression calm as always. “Perhaps we’re just letting Poppy do all the work for once. She’s proving to be quite adept at it.”  

Poppy grinned triumphantly. “See? Even they admit it.”  

Before I could pry further, Jace leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You know, if you keep this up, Poppy, she might just take all this teasing seriously. And frankly, I’m not prepared for a ginger nephew or niece. It’s bad enough imagining Garreth setting cauldrons on fire—imagine him babysitting!”  

The table erupted in laughter at Jace’s comment, but he wasn’t finished. He turned to me with an exaggeratedly serious look. “And don’t even get me started on Professor Sharp. Do we even know if he can sire children at his age?”  

The sheer audacity of his statement had me smacking his arm. “Jace! That’s so crass!” I exclaimed, though I was laughing too hard to sound properly scolding.  

Samantha covered her mouth, her eyes wide with horror and amusement. Natty looked scandalized for half a second before dissolving into giggles, while Poppy nearly fell out of her seat laughing. Even Ominis’s calm demeanor cracked as he let out an exasperated chuckle.  

Sebastian, finally breaking out of his funk, laughed so hard he had to put his fork down. “Jace, you’re unbelievable,” he managed between bouts of laughter.  

Jace just shrugged, grinning like he’d won a prize. “What can I say? It’s a gift.”  

The laughter lingered for a long while, and for the first time in days, I felt a sense of normalcy return. Whatever heaviness had been weighing me down eased slightly, replaced by the warmth and joy of being surrounded by my friends—and my infuriatingly ridiculous brother. 

____

We all made our way to Potions class after breakfast, chatting and joking as we walked through the castle. Jace had to part ways with us just before we reached the classroom, flashing us a grin. “Try not to blow anything up without me, yeah? I’d hate to miss it.”  

I rolled my eyes, laughing. “Don’t worry, Jace. We’ll make sure the chaos is perfectly contained.”  

As we entered the Potions classroom, the familiar scent of brewed ingredients filled the air. I barely had time to set my things down when I caught Garreth’s eye from across the room. He gave me a cheerful wave, his trademark grin plastered across his face.  

Poppy, ever the instigator, leaned over and whispered, “Oh, look who’s waving. How romantic.”  

Natty joined in, her eyes sparkling. “He’s been looking forward to this class, no doubt.”  

I shot them both a warning look, but the heat rising to my cheeks betrayed me. Meanwhile, Sebastian’s face visibly soured as he followed Garreth’s gaze, muttering something under his breath that I couldn’t quite catch. Ominis, however, remained silent, though the corners of his mouth twitched, as if suppressing a smirk.  

“All right, settle down,” Professor Sharp’s deep, commanding voice cut through the chatter, silencing the class instantly. “Today, we’ll be working on an advanced version of the Invigoration Draught. Properly brewed, it can replenish magical energy and stamina. Improperly brewed…” He trailed off, raising a stern eyebrow. “Well, let’s just say the results can be… explosive.”  

He flicked his wand, and the instructions for the draught appeared on the board. “Pay close attention to the measurements, and remember, patience is key. Start.”  

The room filled with the clinking of glass vials, the bubbling of cauldrons, and the occasional whispered exchange between students. I focused on chopping my Horklump Juice into precise portions, carefully measuring each ingredient before adding it to my cauldron. But no matter how much I tried to concentrate, I couldn’t ignore the feeling of being watched.  

I glanced up, and sure enough, Garreth was stealing another look in my direction, his green eyes lighting up with mischief when he realized I’d caught him. He quickly looked back at his cauldron, but the grin on his face was unmistakable. My cheeks burned, and I ducked my head, pretending to double-check my notes.  

Behind me, Poppy stifled a laugh. “Oh, he’s definitely smitten,” she whispered, just loud enough for me to hear.  

Sebastian, sitting a few seats away, let out a sharp sigh. “Focus on your potion, Poppy. Unless you’d like yours to end up as volatile as Garreth’s experiments.”  

“Someone’s in a mood,” Natty murmured, her tone light but teasing.  

I tried to ignore all of them, keeping my attention on my cauldron, but my hands betrayed my nerves. My spoon slipped, nearly spilling Boomslang Skin across the table. I caught it just in time, exhaling a shaky breath.  

Professor Sharp prowled the room, his sharp eyes scrutinizing everyone’s work. When he reached Garreth’s station, he stopped, raising an eyebrow at the bright, bubbling mess in his cauldron. “We’re making an Invigoration Draught, Mr. Weasley, not fireworks. Adjust your flame before you turn this entire classroom into your personal pyrotechnics show.”  

“Yes, Professor,” Garreth mumbled, though his grin never wavered.  

As Professor Sharp moved on, I risked another glance at Garreth, only to find him looking right back at me. He winked.  

This time, I couldn’t suppress the blush. I focused hard on my potion, hoping the warmth in my cheeks wasn’t as obvious as it felt.  

When I risked a glance at Sebastian, his jaw was tight, and his eyes were fixed firmly on his cauldron. Ominis, meanwhile, had his head slightly tilted in my direction, his expression unreadable.  

It was going to be a long lesson. 

____

The lesson finally ended, and to my relief, my potion had turned out perfectly viable. Professor Sharp even gave me a curt nod of approval as he passed by my station, which felt like the highest praise one could hope for from him.  

As we packed up and made our way out of the classroom, the usual buzz of conversation filled the hall. Poppy and Natty were still teasing me about Garreth’s glances, while Sebastian and Ominis trailed behind, unusually quiet.  

Just as we rounded a corner, Garreth appeared out of nowhere and stepped into my path, effectively cornering me. He had that same mischievous grin on his face, his green eyes sparkling with confidence.  

“Hey, Jessa,” he started, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was wondering... would you want to grab a Butterbeer with me sometime?”  

The hallway seemed to go dead silent. My friends all froze, their expressions ranging from delighted to shocked. Poppy gasped, and Natty nudged my arm, her grin practically splitting her face.  

I felt my cheeks heat up under Garreth’s expectant gaze. “Um…” I hesitated, glancing at my friends, who were clearly relishing my embarrassment. “Yeah, sure,” I finally said, trying to sound casual.  

Garreth’s grin widened, and he straightened up a little. “Brilliant! I’ll owl you soon, then.” With a quick wink, he turned and walked away, leaving me to face the inevitable onslaught of teasing.  

“Well, well,” Poppy chimed in, her voice practically dripping with glee. “Our Jessa is going on a date! How exciting!”  

“It’s not a date,” I protested, though my flushed face betrayed me.  

“Oh, it’s a date,” Natty teased, her eyes sparkling. “And with Garreth Weasley, no less. Should we start planning your outfit?”  

“You two are insufferable,” I muttered, trying to hide my smile.  

Poppy leaned closer, mock-whispering, “You know, Jessa, Garreth has excellent taste in desserts. He might even teach you how to bake something romantic.”  

“Enough!” I groaned, though I couldn’t stop the laughter bubbling up.  

Behind us, Sebastian let out a loud, exasperated sigh. “Butterbeer? Really? What’s next, he’s going to write her poetry about cauldron cakes?”  

Ominis, for his part, shook his head. “Garreth Weasley,” he said dryly, “the same person who nearly blew up the Potions classroom last month, now trying to charm someone with Butterbeer.”  

Natty smirked at them. “Oh, are we feeling protective now? Or maybe just… jealous?”  

“Jealous?” Sebastian scoffed, though his ears turned slightly red. “Hardly. I just think Jessa deserves better than someone whose idea of a grand romantic gesture involves experimental fizzing candy.”  

Ominis smirked faintly. “A bold opinion from someone whose romantic experience is limited to debating magical theory.”  

That earned a scowl from Sebastian, while Natty and Poppy dissolved into giggles.  

“Will you all stop?” I said, though I couldn’t hide my smile. “It’s just Butterbeer. What’s the harm?”  

Sebastian muttered something under his breath, and Ominis gave a noncommittal hum. I shook my head, deciding it was best to let them sulk.  

As we continued on to our next class, I couldn’t help but think about Garreth’s grin and his offer. Butterbeer sounded innocent enough… but I had a feeling it was going to spark far more chaos than I anticipated.

____

As the group parted ways, Sebastian lingered beside me, hands jammed deep into his pockets and a dark cloud of irritation hanging over him. We were headed to serve our last day of detention, just the two of us. Professor Weasley, in an unusual display of pity, had allowed Sebastian to wait for me after hearing about my recent condition.  

The silence between us stretched awkwardly until I couldn’t take it anymore. “Alright, out with it,” I said, nudging his arm as we walked. “You’re still pouting.”  

“I’m not pouting,” he replied, his tone defensive, though the very act of saying it made him sound even more like he was.  

“Oh, you definitely are,” I said with a laugh. “Let me guess, this is about Garreth and the Butterbeer?”  

Sebastian shot me a sharp look, his brown eyes narrowing slightly. “Why would it be about him?” he asked, his voice a little too casual to be convincing.  

I grinned. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’ve been sulking ever since he asked me?”  

“I’m not sulking,” he muttered, though his scowl deepened. “I just… I don’t see why you said yes, that’s all.”  

“Why wouldn’t I?” I teased, raising an eyebrow at him. “Garreth’s nice, and Butterbeer sounds fun.”  

Sebastian snorted. “Fun? You think sitting in The Three Broomsticks listening to him ramble about ‘brilliant ideas’ for exploding cauldrons is fun?”  

“Don’t be mean,” I said, though I couldn’t help but laugh at his tone. “It’s just a drink, Bas. What’s the harm in that?”  

“The harm is that it’s Garreth Weasley,” he shot back. “The man probably thinks Butterbeer is the height of romance.”  

I stopped walking, crossing my arms and giving him an incredulous look. “Romance? Where did that come from? It’s not a date, Sebastian. It’s just Butterbeer.”  

He hesitated, clearly caught off guard. “Well, it *could* be a date,” he mumbled, glancing away. “You never know with someone like him.”  

I blinked at him, utterly baffled by his sudden intensity. “Garreth? A date? Don’t be ridiculous.”  

“Ridiculous?!” he repeated, his voice rising slightly. “You didn’t see the way he was looking at you during Potions. It was like he was brewing Amortentia.”  

I burst out laughing, shaking my head. “You’re imagining things. He was just being friendly.”  

“Friendly,” Sebastian muttered under his breath, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Sure. Friendly.”  

I rolled my eyes and started walking again. “You’re impossible, you know that?”  

“And you’re too trusting,” he shot back, though there was no real bite in his words.  

We continued in silence for a moment before I decided to poke the bear again. “So… what’s wrong with Butterbeer?” I asked innocently, glancing at him.  

“Nothing,” he replied quickly, though his lips tightened. “It’s just… not exactly creative, is it? If it were me—”  

He cut himself off abruptly, but I caught it. “If it were you…?” I prompted, tilting my head.  

“Never mind,” he muttered, his ears turning red.  

I grinned. “No, no, go on. If it were you, what would you do?”  

“Forget it,” he said, picking up his pace as if he could escape the conversation.  

“Sebastian,” I said in a sing-song tone, trailing after him. “You can’t leave me hanging like that!”  

“Just drop it,” he grumbled, though the pink flush on his cheeks spoke volumes.  

By the time we reached the detention classroom, I was grinning from ear to ear, thoroughly amused by his flustered state.  

Before we stepped inside, I reached out and touched his arm lightly, stopping him. “Hey,” I said softly. “Thanks for waiting for me. You didn’t have to.”  

Sebastian shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “I didn’t mind. Professor Weasley thought you could use the company, and… well, I didn’t want you to be alone.”  

His honesty caught me off guard, and I felt a pang of guilt for teasing him so much. “That’s really sweet of you,” I said, smiling. “Maybe you’re not *entirely* impossible after all.”  

He rolled his eyes, though a small smile tugged at his lips. “Don’t let it go to your head,” he muttered as we stepped into the classroom together.  

I couldn’t help but feel a little lighter knowing that Sebastian, sulks and all, would always have my back—even if he had a funny way of showing it sometimes.

_____

As I made my way through the buzzing halls of Hogwarts toward the grounds for Flying Class, I noticed someone sitting against the wall just outside an empty classroom. It was Ominis, his head tilted back, eyes closed, and looking oddly serene.  

At first, I thought he was napping—a rare sight for someone as disciplined as him. But as I approached, I couldn’t help but notice the slight furrow of his brow and the ever-present pout on his lips. I stifled a giggle, not wanting to disturb him, but of course, he noticed my presence.  

“You know,” he drawled without opening his eyes, “it’s rather rude to stare at someone while they’re enjoying a free period.”  

I couldn’t resist. “I didn’t know you could nap while pouting. Honestly, Ominis, your lips are so turned down, I could hang a cauldron from them!”  

He opened his pale eyes, tilting his head toward me, his expression unamused but with a faint blush rising on his cheeks. “Very funny,” he said flatly. “I’m sure the house-elves are clamoring to hear your next bit of comedy.”  

Grinning, I leaned against the wall beside him. “Alright, seriously—what’s wrong this time? Don’t tell me it’s about Garreth again.”  

Ominis let out a dramatic sigh. “Of course it’s about Garreth,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Do you know how loud he is when he’s talking about you in the Great Hall? It’s impossible not to overhear.”  

I blinked in surprise. “Talking about me?”  

“Endlessly,” Ominis replied, his tone tinged with annoyance. “About his *grand plans* to ‘charm you with Butterbeer.’ As if that’s all it takes to win you over. It’s... infuriating.”  

I laughed, brushing it off. “It’s nothing, Ominis. Just Butterbeer. Not some grand declaration of affection.”  

Ominis narrowed his eyes slightly. “Nothing, is it? That’s not how *he* sees it. And it’s not just Butterbeer. It’s the way he stares at you, like you’re some rare treasure he’s discovered. Honestly, I wouldn’t trust him to even hold a treasure, let alone care for one.”  

I rolled my eyes, though my cheeks grew warm at his words. “You and Sebastian are hopeless. It’s Butterbeer, not a binding contract.”  

“Hopeless?” Ominis echoed, his tone sharp with disbelief. “I’d say we’re cautious. Someone has to protect you from these ridiculous Gryffindors with their loud voices and wild schemes.”  

I smirked. “Protect me? From what, Garreth Weasley’s charm? I think I’ll survive.”  

Ominis huffed, clearly unimpressed by my humor. “I’m just saying,” he muttered, crossing his arms, “it wouldn’t kill you to be a bit more discerning about whose company you keep. And don’t even get me started on his... *potions.*”  

That sent me into another fit of laughter. “Merlin’s beard, you sound like Sebastian.”  

“And he’s absolutely right,” Ominis said without missing a beat. “If you don’t want to take it seriously, fine. But don’t come crying to us when his next ‘masterpiece’ explodes in your face during your Butterbeer... outing.”  

I nudged his shoulder playfully. “You’re ridiculous.”  

“And yet, I’m right,” he retorted with a faint smirk.  

Before I could respond, the bell chimed, signaling the start of Flying Class. I straightened up, adjusting my bag. “Alright, Ominis, enjoy your free period. I’ve got brooms waiting for me.”  

He gave a half-hearted wave as I walked away, his voice following me down the corridor. “Just remember—if Garreth brings a cauldron along, you might want to reconsider!”  

I couldn’t help but laugh all the way to the grounds.

_____

When I arrived at the field for Flying Class, I expected to see Madam Kogawa waiting as usual. Instead, a confident-looking Slytherin girl with sharp features and a no-nonsense demeanor stood at the front of the group. She crossed her arms, surveying the students as we gathered.  

When everyone was present, she raised her voice, her tone commanding. “Listen up! Madam Kogawa is busy today, so I’ll be filling in. I’m Imelda Reyes, Slytherin Quidditch Captain.”  

There was a murmur of curiosity and a few whispers among the students. I raised my hand hesitantly. “What’s the activity for today?”  

Imelda turned her sharp gaze to me and smirked. “Oh, right. The *new* fifth year. Valancaire, isn’t it?”  

I nodded, a little caught off guard by her confident demeanor.  

“Well,” she continued, “today’s activity is a proper broom time trial. We’ll head over to the Quidditch pitch, where I’ve set up a course for you lot. It’s about speed, control, and knowing how to maneuver on a broom. If you think you’re good in the air, this is your chance to prove it.”  

That piqued my curiosity, and I tilted my head. “What exactly is a broom time trial?”  

Imelda rolled her eyes dramatically, but there was a glint of pride in her expression. “It’s simple: you fly through a series of rings around the pitch and aim for the best time. It’s not for the faint of heart, though—it’s fast, and you’ll need precision if you want to avoid penalties. Naturally, *I* hold the fastest time on the course.” She smirked, tossing her hair over her shoulder.  

“Of course you do,” a Gryffindor muttered under their breath, earning a sharp glare from Imelda.  

I couldn’t help but admire her confidence. “That’s impressive,” I said earnestly. “No one’s beaten your record?”  

Her smirk deepened, and she crossed her arms again. “Not yet. And trust me, plenty have tried. But flying isn’t just about going fast—it’s about strategy, precision, and endurance. Most of you lot lack at least two of those.”  

The students exchanged uncertain glances, but I found myself intrigued. The idea of pushing my limits on a broom sounded exhilarating.  

Imelda’s sharp eyes landed on me again, as if sizing me up. “Well, Valancaire, let’s see if you’ve got what it takes. Maybe you’ll surprise me... but don’t get your hopes up.”  

With that, she signaled for the group to mount their brooms and follow her to the Quidditch pitch. Her confidence and pride in her skills were contagious, and as we soared into the sky, I felt a thrill of anticipation. It was time to see what this broom time trial was really about.

______

When it was finally my turn, I stood at the edge of the course and took a deep breath, scanning the field. The rings were positioned at varying heights, some twisting around the pitch in sharp turns, others suspended high in the air for steep climbs. The previous attempts by my classmates had been decent, but none of them had come close to Imelda’s record.  

“Ravenclaw! Your turn!” Imelda called, her voice cutting through the chatter.  

I nodded, mounting my broom. The feel of the handle in my hands was steadying, and I inhaled deeply to calm my nerves. With a sharp kick, I launched into the air.  

The rush of wind hit my face as I surged toward the first ring. The course was fast and unforgiving—each turn demanded precision, and there was no room for hesitation. I leaned into a sharp bank to the right, my broom responding to every slight movement. The rings came at me in quick succession: up, down, and weaving between the towering stands.  

I pushed myself harder, diving low and skimming the grass before pulling up into a steep ascent. The altitude change made my lungs burn, but I kept my focus, the world around me a blur. Each ring I passed added to the exhilaration, and I realized I wasn’t just flying—I was flowing with the course, letting instinct guide me.  

The final stretch was the trickiest, with tight loops and a sudden drop before the last ring. I gritted my teeth, leaning forward to gain speed as I approached the finish. With a final burst of effort, I shot through the last ring and came to a smooth landing on the pitch, my heart pounding with adrenaline.  

I hopped off my broom, brushing stray strands of hair from my face. “So,” I said, breathless, “what’s my time?”  

Imelda stared at the stopwatch in her hand, her eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. For a moment, she didn’t answer. Finally, her voice came out in a high-pitched, incredulous tone. “That... can’t be right. You beat my time?”  

I blinked in surprise, a flush creeping to my cheeks. “I did?”  

She flushed as well, but hers was from a mixture of bewilderment and annoyance. “That’s impossible! You must’ve cheated!”  

I couldn’t help but smile, taking no offense to her accusation. If anything, I took it as a backhanded compliment. “How could I even cheat on a broom?” I asked lightly, shrugging.  

Imelda narrowed her eyes at me, clearly still trying to process the loss. After a moment, she huffed and crossed her arms, reluctantly nodding. “Fine. You didn’t cheat. But this isn’t over, Valancaire. I’ll admit—congratulations are in order. Looks like I finally have someone worthy of competing with.”  

Her tone was begrudging, but there was a flicker of genuine respect behind her words.  

She raised an eyebrow at me. “Don’t get too comfortable, though. I’ll owl you when I’ve set up the next course. And trust me, you’re not beating my record there.”  

I smiled, the excitement from the trial still coursing through me. “I look forward to it,” I replied sincerely.  

Imelda gave a curt nod, though she still looked annoyed as she turned to address the next student. I walked off the pitch with my broom in hand, feeling a mix of pride and exhilaration. It wasn’t just about beating her record—it was about proving to myself what I could do. And I couldn’t wait to see what Imelda had in store next.

______

After leaving the Quidditch pitch, I made my way back to the common room to freshen up. On the way, I couldn't help but overhear snippets of conversations among my fellow students.  

"She beat Imelda's record?!" one student exclaimed.  

"Isn’t she the same one who has a *date* with Garreth Weasley?" whispered another.  

I sighed internally. Gossip truly spread like wildfire at Hogwarts—it was impossible to keep anything private for long.  

When I reached the dormitory, I noticed something unusual immediately. Sitting on top of my desk was a black velvet envelope accompanied by a small, ornate bag. There had been no owl delivery, which struck me as odd. My heart skipped a beat as I approached it.  

The black velvet felt luxurious under my fingers, and when I turned it over, there it was—the unmistakable Valancaire family seal. "From my grandfather," I murmured, my breath catching.  

I carefully opened the envelope. Inside were only a few elegantly written words in perfect calligraphy:  

*"Use the Floo Powder and visit me here in the Keep."*  

That was it. No other explanation, no sentiment, no pleasantries. Just a direct instruction.  

I turned the envelope over again and found a small amount of Floo Powder contained in a tiny pouch attached to the back. My eyes widened. This wasn’t any ordinary floo powder—it was meant to transport me directly to the Valancaire Keep.  

For a moment, I stood there in silence, trying to process what this meant. My grandfather had finally responded, but in his typical enigmatic way, he left me with more questions than answers. I needed to speak with my brothers immediately.  

Leaving the dormitory, I found Jace first in the hallways. “Jace,” I called out, catching his attention.  

He raised an eyebrow at my expression. “What happened?”  

I showed him the envelope and explained the brief contents. His expression shifted to one of concern. “Let’s find Vix and Valor,” he said, leading the way.  

Together, we located Vix and Valor near the Great Hall, and the four of us slipped into an empty classroom to talk. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of magic in the walls.  

I placed the letter and Floo Powder on the desk in front of us. “This is his response,” I said, watching their reactions.  

Vix’s eyes narrowed as he picked up the letter, reading it over. “That’s it? Just ‘use the Floo Powder and visit me’? No explanation?”  

I shook my head. “None. He wants me to go to the Keep. And the powder… it’s meant to take me directly there.”  

Valor crossed his arms, his face serious. “The Keep is heavily warded. It’s impossible to Apparate or Floo there without permission. This powder is specific to our family’s wards—it’s a direct invitation.”  

Jace leaned against the desk, frowning. “It’s not like him to make things easy. I’m surprised he didn’t just leave a riddle or something.”  

I gave him a look. “This *is* the riddle. He’s giving me no choice but to go to him for answers.”  

Vix placed the letter down and looked at me. “Are you going to go?”  

“I need to,” I said firmly. “But I wanted to tell you all first. I’m not going to just disappear without letting you know.”  

Valor nodded, his expression softening slightly. “You’re doing the right thing, Jess. But remember, the Keep isn’t just a home—it’s his fortress. Be prepared for… well, for *him*.”  

Jace smirked, trying to lighten the mood. “And if you see any creepy old relics in there, don’t touch them. The last thing we need is another cursed artifact.”  

I rolled my eyes, but his teasing brought a small smile to my face. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”  

Vix crossed his arms, looking thoughtful. “When are you planning to go?”  

“Tonight,” I said. “I don’t think I should delay.”  

The three of them exchanged glances, their concern evident. Finally, Valor said, “Just… let us know what happens. If anything feels off, come back immediately. You’re not alone in this, Jess.”  

I nodded, grateful for their support. “I’ll update you as soon as I can.”  

As we left the classroom, the weight of the upcoming visit hung heavy in the air. I was deep in thought when Valor, ever the one to break the tension, nudged me with a grin.  

"Just make sure you don’t invite Garreth along to the Keep," he teased. "I doubt Grandfather would appreciate a Weasley poking around his precious fortress."  

Jace snorted, adding, "Yeah, I can already see it. Garreth trying to impress Grandfather with some exploding cauldron trick. That would go over *brilliantly.*"  

I groaned, my cheeks flushing. "Garreth has nothing to do with this! Why are you bringing him up?"  

Vix smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because he seems to be *very interested* in you lately. And judging by all the whispers around Hogwarts, you’re not exactly discouraging it."  

I threw my hands up in exasperation. "It’s just butterbeer, for Merlin’s sake! Can we focus on what’s actually important here?"  

But Valor wasn’t done. "Hey, I’m just saying—if Grandfather catches wind of it, he might decide to take matters into his own hands. Imagine the *lecture.* Or worse—imagine Garreth trying to keep up with Grandfather’s riddles."  

Jace laughed. "Poor guy wouldn’t last five minutes."  

Despite myself, I couldn’t help but laugh along with them, the tension lifting just slightly. "You’re all impossible," I said, shaking my head.  

Valor grinned, slinging an arm around my shoulders as we walked. "That’s why you love us. Now, go meet with Grandfather and figure things out. But, Jess…" He gave me a knowing look. "Don’t forget to tell Garreth you’ll be out of touch for a bit. Wouldn’t want him to think you’re standing him up."  

"Valor!" I shoved him playfully, my cheeks burning as the laughter of my brothers echoed down the hall.  

Though their teasing was relentless, I was grateful for it. They always knew how to keep things light when everything felt overwhelming. Now, I just had to prepare myself for whatever awaited me at the Valancaire Keep.



Sebastian's POV

Still fuming about Garreth Weasley, I angrily flipped through pages in the library, earning a few annoyed glances from nearby students. Not that I cared. My mind was elsewhere, spinning between Anne's worsening condition and—unfortunately—the image of Garreth asking Jessa out. The spell Jessa had taught us helped keep Anne’s pain at bay, but it wasn’t enough. Winter was coming, and with it, her suffering seemed to deepen. I needed to focus. I needed to find something.  

“Wow. I could feel the tension in this corner of the library from the other side of the room,” Jace’s familiar voice drawled, breaking my concentration.  

I looked up, already bracing myself. Jace leaned casually against the table, arms crossed, wearing a grin that spelled trouble. Ever since Jessa came back, he’d taken up the role of Hogwarts’ most annoying older brother. He wasn’t here to help me study, that much was clear.  

“What do you want, Jace?” I asked, tone clipped.  

“Oh, nothing,” he said innocently, though his smirk betrayed him. “I just wanted to check in on you. You know, see how you’re holding up after the… *tragic news*.”  

I frowned. “What news?”  

“You mean you haven’t heard?” His grin widened, and I already hated whatever was about to come out of his mouth. “Garreth Weasley asked Jessa to Butterbeer. *Alone*. Quite the scandal.”  

I rolled my eyes. “I heard. It’s not a big deal.”  

“Not a big deal?” Jace laughed. “Sebastian, you’ve been flipping pages like you’re trying to exorcise the book. And don’t even get me started on the glare you were giving Garreth at breakfast. If looks could kill, the poor bloke wouldn’t have made it to Potions.”  

“I wasn’t glaring,” I muttered, feeling my face heat up.  

“Oh, you were glaring,” he said with a mischievous glint in his eye. “I swear, I thought I saw smoke coming out of your ears. You’re so obvious it’s almost embarrassing.”  

“I’m not obvious!” My voice came out a little too loud, earning another glare from a nearby student. I lowered my voice. “I just don’t trust Garreth. He’s reckless. Always brewing questionable potions. It’s not jealousy; it’s common sense.”  

Jace raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Sure. And the fact that you looked like you were ready to hex him into next week has *nothing* to do with how you feel about Jessa.”  

“I don’t feel anything,” I snapped, though the heat creeping up my neck told a different story.  

Jace grinned like a Kneazle who’d caught a mouse. “Oh, you’re blushing! This is priceless. Merlin’s beard, Sebastian, you’re hopeless.”  

“I’m not blushing!” I protested, though I could feel my face burning.  

Jace leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “You know, if you don’t make a move soon, someone else might. Garreth’s not the only one interested, you know. Natty told me half the boys in Ravenclaw have been talking about her. And the Hufflepuffs too.”  

I glared at him. “Shouldn’t you be worried? You’re her brother.”  

Jace shrugged, completely unfazed. “Not really. Our family believes in exploring connections, finding love, all that. Mum always says the heart knows best. Besides,” he added with a sly grin, “it’s fun watching you squirm.”  

I blinked. “That’s… a bold statement coming from a Valancaire. Aren’t your family supposed to be all about tradition and duty?”

Jace laughed. “Oh, we are. But that doesn’t mean we’re not allowed to have a little fun along the way.”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Why are you like this?”  

“Because it’s entertaining,” he said, patting my shoulder. “But seriously, Sebastian. If you like her, do something about it. Otherwise, you’re just going to keep fuming like a cursed teapot. And honestly, it’s starting to get sad.”  

As he walked away, still grinning, I sat there, glaring at the table. I wasn’t jealous. I wasn’t. But his words stuck with me, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he was right. Maybe I needed to stop glaring and start… doing something. Whatever that might be.