The corridor was quiet as Eira returned to her room, her footsteps soft against the velvet carpet. Outside the frosted window, snowflakes still danced like drifting petals, unaware of the storm that had just passed within the walls of the White family manor.
Her room was warm, aglow with the soft light of enchanted lamps and the quiet hum of a magical fireplace nestled in the corner. On her bed, a collection of carefully wrapped presents waited for her, each one bearing a different mark, a different ribbon, a different piece of soone’s heart.
Eira let out a long breath and sat down gently at the edge of the bed. The scent of winter flowers from her morning perfu still clung faintly to her robes. For a mont, she simply stared at the gifts, her heart thawing from the icy edge left by her uncle’s cruelty.
A delicate card rested atop the first package.
"To my dearest student,
Your strength continues to grow like the mountains surrounding Beauxbâtons.
Wishing you joy and peace this holiday season.
— Mada Maxi"
Eira smiled softly. Inside the box was a silk cloak embroidered with silver and starlight threads, enchanted to remain warm yet weightless. It shimred with soft blue hues like moonlight on snow.
She touched the fabric reverently. "Thank you, Headmistress."
The next gift was from her grandfather. Elijah’s writing was simple and elegant.
"For the heiress of the White family. May this remind you of who you are, no matter who dares to forget.
— Grandfather"
Inside was an ornate hairpin carved from ivory, set with a deep erald that matched her eyes. An enchantnt humd softly within it—likely a protective charm, old and powerful. She ran her fingers over the gem, and for the first ti in the day, she felt steadied.
Then, wrapped in brown parchnt and tied with a humble navy ribbon, was a book.
"To Eira,
I hope this one speaks to your soul. It’s a story I couldn’t stop thinking about once I read it , hope after reading this book you go on a date with .
Happy Christmas,
— Marin"
Her fingertips lingered on the note. She unwrapped the paper gently. The book was old, bound in soft leather, with gold-embossed lettering that read: "L’Éternelle Forêt" — The Eternal Forest. She opened the cover and found a pressed violet tucked inside the front page. Her smile widened. Marin, the playboy who has flirted with all the girls in school , always found a way to express interest in girls .
And Eria was Sure that Marin had sent this kind of letter to all the girls that he knows and wants to date them .
Next ca a velvet box tied with a white ribbon—Fleur Delacour’s graceful handwriting glimred in silver ink.
"Ma chère Little bunny,
This once belonged to my family’s ancestors , and I believe it suits you more than I can say.
With love and invitation—
On the first of January, you are invited to join the Delacour family for a New Year’s feast.
Use the Floo network, and step into the hearth when you’re ready.
— Fleur"
Eira opened the box slowly. Nestled within was a delicate necklace: a single opalescent crystal suspended on a chain of woven silver threads, faintly glowing. It was breathtaking. Her fingers brushed the gem—it felt cool and warm at once, pulsing softly like a heartbeat.
She read Fleur’s letter again, her heart filling with warmth. An invitation. To a real ho, a real family gathering.
The next few gifts were from her professors: Professor Chamberlain , her charms teacher, sent a charmbook of ancient French incantations. Professor Lioré, from Magical Botany, had sent her a tiny potted plant that blood at her touch—a Souffleur de Givre, a rare frost-blossom said to sing in moonlight. Professor Vaillant, the magic protection instructor, sent a new wand holster made of enchanted dragonhide, engraved with her initials in silver, which surprised her since that professor is quite serious but now he sent a very valuable gift .
She sat in silence for a mont, touched beyond words.
Then she noticed one more box. Small. Wrapped in soft gray velvet. There was no sender’s na—only a small cream card.
R. V.
No further clues. No letter. No hint of who it might be from.
Eira opened the box with cautious fingers.
Inside, nestled on a bed of starlight silk, was a ring.
It was unlike anything she’d seen—elegant, old, and intricately wrought with runes that shimred when she moved it under the light. The stone at its center was a moonstone, softly opalescent, and the band was twisted silver and rose-gold, bearing a faint enchantnt she couldn’t imdiately decipher.
She stared at it for a long ti. The initials echoed sowhere deep in her mory—familiar, yet elusive. R. V. She made a ntal note to write to Mada Maxi or Fleur—perhaps they would know.
Then she stood and walked to her desk.
From a drawer, she pulled out her own stack of letters, already written days in advance. One for Marin—along with a pair of enchanted gloves that would keep his hands warm even while sorting cold, dusty tos. One for Fleur, with a set of crystal hair charms she’d found in the markets of Beauxbâtons. One for Mada Maxi—handwritten, sincere, tucked beside a bar of rare chocolate she’d brought back from Germany.
Each friend, each ntor—she had not forgotten any of them.
She paused as she sealed the last envelope, then looked out the window again.
Snow was still falling.
But unlike the storm within the dining room, this snow felt different.
Gentler.
Hopeful.
She turned back to the ring from the mysterious R. V., and placed it carefully into her jewelry box.
Not everything needed to be understood at once. So mysteries were ant to unfold in ti.
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