It was the 1st of January, 1992. Eira had already dressed for the occasion—her clothes were formal, neatly pressed, and appropriate for the atmosphere she was about to enter. Her hair was styled modestly, in a way that suited her nature. After applying a soft, elegant perfu, she checked herself in the mirror. Clean and composed, she smiled at her reflection, satisfied. With a deep breath, she picked up her wand and slipped it into her robes.
She stepped out of her room and descended the stairs to the first floor, where Elijah was already waiting. When he spotted her, he gave a small nod and said, "I know the Delacours. They’re good business partners, so you don’t have to worry about anything. That place is safe. Of course, if any problem arises, just call for Lolly—she’ll get you out of there imdiately. So don’t worry."
Eira nodded. With that reassurance, she stepped towards the Floo network. She pinched a bit of Floo Powder from the jar, threw it into the fireplace, and clearly announced, "Delacour Manor." Erald green flas flared around her, and in an instant, she vanished.
The next mont, she erged from a grand fireplace into a lavish drawing room, where two uniford servants were already waiting. As soon as they saw her, they bowed deeply.
"Welco, Miss White. We have been expecting you. Please, follow us."
Eira nodded politely and followed them down a corridor lined with portraits, marble statues, and—unexpectedly—pieces of Muggle art. Her gaze paused on an old gramophone set on a carved pedestal. She blinked, surprised. It was a rare Muggle item, and a beautifully aged one at that.
She was soon led to a grand guest room. Inside, golden-colored furniture glowed in the soft light of enchanted sconces. On the polished table before her were laid an assortnt of treats—chocolates, candies, dry fruits, pistachios, and more.
One of the servants stepped forward and asked courteously, "What would you like to be served, Miss? Green tea, milk tea, or perhaps a cold drink?"
Eira smiled. "Tea will be enough, thank you."
The servant nodded and, without using magic, poured her a steaming cup of fragrant tea into a finely decorated cup. "Here you are, young miss."
Another servant spoke, "Mademoiselle Fleur will be inford imdiately. She shall be down shortly."
"Thank you for your hospitality," Eira said warmly.
The two servants bowed. "It is our honor."
Eira took a seat and sipped her tea, taking in her surroundings. The room was warm and inviting. Outside the window stretched a snow-covered yard, lined with bare, sleeping trees. It was winter, so there were no flowers, yet the grounds remained strikingly beautiful.
As she waited, the door creaked open. Fleur stepped inside with a bright smile.
"Oh, Eira, you finally ca!" she exclaid, rushing over to embrace her. "Good to see you. And again, happy new year!"
Eira returned the hug with equal warmth. "Happy new year to you too."
Fleur sat beside her just as a servant entered with a cup of milk tea and set it down in front of her. Fleur picked it up gratefully and took a sip.
"I loved the Christmas gift you sent ," she said. "It was beautiful."
Eira smiled, slightly bashful. "I loved your necklace, too. It was... quite expensive and very aningful. I was honestly baffled when I received it."
Fleur laughed gently. "It’s a gift for my first real friend. Of course it had to an sothing."
She glanced around, then added, "So? Do you like the house? This has been in our family for centuries. It ca to my father from my grandmother."
"It’s beautiful," Eira replied. "And I noticed so Muggle items around the manor."
Fleur chuckled. "Ah, yes. My father has a fondness for Muggle culture. He collects artifacts—gramophones, typewriters, you na it. He believes it’s important to understand the world outside of our own."
Eira nodded thoughtfully. "That’s... admirable."
"How was your Christmas?" she asked next.
"Sa as always," Fleur replied. "We were invited by my grandmother to a gathering. Every year, all the families with Veela blood co together for Christmas. It’s sort of... a tradition."
"Only those with Veela blood?"
Fleur nodded. "Yes. Even those born to Veela but without the magical signature or traits—they aren’t allowed. No family mbers either, unless they’re part of the bloodline. It’s strict, but it’s been that way for generations."
As they spoke, a high, teasing voice echoed from the hallway.
"Oh, it’s a girl? I thought you finally invited a boy! Well, guess you’ll stay single forever."
Eira turned her head and saw a little girl, no older than eight or nine, standing in the doorway with a mischievous grin.
Fleur’s eyebrows lifted in irritation. "Gabrielle. Don’t talk nonsense. Be polite and greet my guest properly."
Gabrielle clicked her tongue. "Fine, fine." She marched over to Eira, extended her hand, and said with mock formality, "Hello, friend of my annoying sister. I’m Gabrielle Delacour. Good to et you."
Eira took her hand with a smile. "Hello, Gabrielle Delacour. Happy new year to you."
Gabrielle glanced at her sister, then back at Eira. "I like her. Finally, soone interesting. And a girl, too!"
Fleur groaned. "Don’t be ridiculous. Sit down or go to your room."
Gabrielle flopped onto a chair. "Don’t worry. When Mum and Dad co, I’ll tell them Fleur invited a girl and not a boy."
Eira arched a brow at Fleur. "So... your parents expected a boy?"
"She’s making things up," Fleur muttered.
Gabrielle turned to Eira again. "I heard you go to Beauxbâtons. I’ll be there too—in two years!"
"Three," Fleur corrected.
"You always try to make younger!" Gabrielle huffed.
Eira laughed softly at their playful bickering—typical sisters, full of love and irritation in equal asure.
Just then, a loud, hearty laugh rolled through the hallway. A round, bearded man with a shiny bald head entered the room.
"Ah! I see my beautiful daughters are still up. And who might you be, mademoiselle?"
Fleur rose. "Papa, this is my friend, Eira White."
Eira stood and gave a graceful curtsy. "Hello, Monsieur Delacour. Thank you for having ."
He chuckled warmly. "Elijah’s granddaughter! I had a eting with him a few weeks ago. He spoke very highly of you. Mada Maxi too. I’m glad to finally et you."
As he turned to speak with Fleur, Eira studied him. She was genuinely shocked. How had such a comical man fathered two stunning daughters? Then the answer stepped into the room—a graceful, elegant woman with silver-blonde hair and glowing skin.
"Apolline Delacour," Eira thought instantly. "That’s where they get their beauty."
The woman smiled kindly. "Welco, Eira, dear. Welco to the Delacour family."
Eira bowed again. "Thank you for having , Mada Delacour."
"Co now," Apolline said, "dinner is ready. Let’s enjoy the new year with a good al."
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