Fraser, Under a Spell

At some point, the sky outside grew even gloomier. The river beside the villa churned as a harder drizzle raised fine ripples across its surface, yet much of the chill in the air had dissipated. The wind drifting above the city carried a trace of warmth.

"Fraser is my older brother. He's two years older than me—"

Curled up on the sofa, Louise wrapped her arms around her legs again and spoke sadly.

"He was kind, warm toward people, and liked making friends. He'd been an excellent student since childhood. In short, he was our parents' pride and joy. When he was home, we were very close. I'll never forget how, when he was in high school, he liked a girl from the class next door. He tried every possible way to get me to help him come up with ideas for courting her—"

Louise was steeped in grief, and revisiting the past was cruel for her. Her account came in fits and starts, and every so often, she would pause to weep silently.

But through her words, a picture of Fraser's character gradually took shape in Amonsta's mind.

What had happened to Hermione was more complicated than he and Dumbledore had imagined. They had initially thought this Muggle named Fraser had merely been unlucky enough to be chosen, but now it seemed that nothing was so simple. Behind him was not merely one or two instigators, but an organization.

"Mother and I both wanted Fraser to stay in Britain for university, but he insisted on going to Italy because the girl he liked loved that country's artistic atmosphere. They only dated for two months before breaking up, because Loria fell for a rich, handsome man—"

Louise lightly bit her lip, shifting some of her hatred onto Loria. If not