Rumor

"Elizabeth? I never expected to run into you here. You're back in Fonsali this year too?" Fleur broke the delicate atmosphere first.

She stepped forward, a composed smile on her face. "Your aunt helped me out a few days ago—my grandmother's magical herbs made it to Beauxbatons smoothly thanks to her."

The sharpness in Rosier's eyes softened instantly. She gave a slight nod. "It was nothing. Aunt Margo often says your grandmother is the most reliable herbalist in Fonsali."

The two fell into easy conversation. It turned out Rosier's aunt Margo and Fleur's grandmother had been close friends for years. They'd met a few times at family gatherings as children, but being a few years apart in age, they'd never been particularly close.

Gabri tugged at Yulian's hand, tilting her head up curiously to study Rosier. "Sister, are you a witch too? Your dress is so pretty!"

Rosier's lips quirked up at the little girl's innocent tone. She bent down and patted Gabri's head. "Yes, I am. I go to a magic school, just like Brother Yulian and Sister Fleur."

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Fleur caught the subtle thaw between them, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

She'd naturally noticed the way Rosier's gaze lingered on Yulian, unable to hide her interest, and how Yulian's eyes kept drifting back to Rosier whenever he spoke.

She smiled and suggested, "Since we've run into each other like this, why don't we look around together? Fonsali's Christmas market still has some fun stalls. Gabri's been nagging me about making magical gingerbread."

Rosier hesitated for a moment, but caught the anticipation in Yulian's eyes from the corner of her vision. She finally nodded.

The group of four made for a lively party. Gabri acted like a little guide, pulling them from stall to stall.

At the magical dessert shop, they shared hot chocolate that puffed out snowflakes. Gingerbread men danced on the plate, and each bite came with a crisp jingle.

At the handmade jewelry stall, Rosier picked up a star-shaped brooch inlaid with tiny diamonds, turning it over in her hands.

While she hesitated, Yulian had already bought it from the vendor. "This looks great on you. It matches your serpent brooch—one's cold and sharp, the other's bright and dazzling. Consider it my Christmas gift to you."

Rosier's cheeks flushed faintly, but she accepted the brooch in the end.

Fleur played the role of a gentle mediator throughout. She'd deliberately steer the conversation toward ancient texts and magical theory, topics both of them loved, watching them go from stiff formality to easy banter.

When Yulian mentioned obscure books on astral magic in the Hogwarts library, Rosier's eyes lit up with shared enthusiasm, and she volunteered records from her family's collection on star studies. When Rosier talked about how the Slytherin common room, though underground, had periscopes for stargazing, Yulian eagerly described the Ravenclaw tower's observatory.

Fleur, a few years older than both, found it amusing and also picked up some insight into Hogwarts.

By sunset, they'd covered the entire market. Gabri, clutching a bag stuffed with candy and little toys, dozed off on Fleur's shoulder.

The four decided to rest at the town's pub before meeting up with the adults.

Under Fleur's lead, they found the legendary bar at the end of Moss Alley in the Town of Fonsali—Le Chêne et le Gobelet (Heart of Oak). Above the door was carved a gnarled oak tree, with a copper-green goblet set into a hollow in the trunk.

The pub looked small from outside, but inside it was astonishingly deep, as if the space had been quietly stretched.

The ceiling was low, the beams unpolished century-old oak, embedded with dozens of breathing firefly lamps—not real insects, but glass vials of luminous potion that shifted with the patrons' moods: gold when laughter rang out, blue when someone brooded, and snuffing out abruptly during an argument.

The bar itself was a standout: a whole fallen ancient oak split open and fashioned into a counter, its natural hollow preserved at the heart and now turned into an automatic drink dispenser. According to Fleur, if you dropped a silver sickle into the hollow, it would serve you the right drink based on your mood—bitter "Regret Ale," sweet "Old Dream Butterbeer," or fiery "Duelist's Flame."

They found a small table for four and sat down. The chairs and table were dark beechwood, worn but spotlessly clean.

Though it was a bar, it also served non-alcoholic drinks suitable for young wizards. They ordered the house specialty—"Heart of Oak": a blend of oak sap and butterbeer, said to boost memory.

The pub was warm and cozy. Wizards sat in small clusters, drinking frothy Flame Whiskey and murmuring to one another.

At the next table, a few old wizards were chatting about local gossip, and the topic shifted to the abandoned old church.

"Did you hear? Someone saw green light flashing from the church again last night," one wizard with a grizzled beard said in a low voice.

"Oh, that story's been going around for decades. They say it's the resentment left behind by the Muggles. I think it's just the wind rattling the windows," another waved dismissively.

"But my cousin says he passed by late last week and heard strange whispering inside, like someone chanting a spell."

"Don't jump to conclusions. That place is creepy. Who'd go there except a lost Muggle?"

They all laughed, and the topic quickly moved on.

Rosier held her cup, her fingers absently tracing the rim. "Seems like the rumor about the church being haunted is common knowledge around here."

"Probably just hearsay," Yulian said, but his mind went back to the Moon Shadow Council member he'd glimpsed during the day. Could that abandoned church be their hideout?

Fleur set down her cup, her gaze thoughtful. She hadn't forgotten the gray figure that had flashed by earlier, or the Thorn Crescent mark on his arm.

"Maybe, but there's no smoke without fire." She looked at Yulian and Rosier, her tone meaningful. "Still, since none of us go there often, we don't need to pry. Safety comes first."

Yulian figured Fleur would report the matter to Madame Maxime anyway, so he didn't press further.

After all, this wasn't far from Beauxbatons, and no one wanted to cross that tall woman.

The sky darkened, and it was time to meet the adults.

The four left the pub as snow began to fall in flurries. Rosier's aunt's house was nearby. Fleur, carrying a drowsy Gabri, said goodbye:

"If you're free another day, come by my grandmother's for tea. She has a fine collection of old magical picture books."

"Sure, I'd love to," Yulian agreed.

Rosier stood at the crossroads, looking into Yulian's eyes. She held the star brooch he'd given her and said softly, "Today... thank you."

"I should be thanking you," Yulian smiled. "I had a great time at the market with you."

Rosier's cheeks flushed. She turned and walked toward her aunt's house, then looked back after a few steps. "See you at Hogwarts. Oh, and when you're done with that notebook on Hogwarts's foundations, give it back to me. I have some extra notes to add."

"No problem." Yulian waved goodbye, watching her figure disappear at the end of the lane.