Rumors

"Elizabeth? I never thought I'd run into you here. Are you back in Fonsali again this year?" Pheobe was the first to break the subtle tension.

She stepped forward with a poised smile. "I have your aunt to thank. My grandmother's magical herbs were delivered to Beauxbatons without a hitch a few days ago."

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

The two began chatting like old acquaintances. As it turned out, Rosier's aunt, Margo, and Pheobe's grandmother had been friends for many years. They had met several times at family gatherings when they were young, but they had been separated by several years in age and had never grown particularly close.

Gabri tugged on Yulian's hand and looked up at Rosier curiously. "Big Sister, are you a witch too? Your clothes are so pretty!"

The girl's innocent tone made the corners of Rosier's lips lift. She bent down and rubbed Gabri's head. "Yes. Like Big Brother Yulian and Big Sister Pheobe, I study at a magical school."

Pheobe watched the atmosphere between the two quietly ease, a hint of mischief flashing in her eyes.

She had naturally noticed the unmistakable concern in Rosier's gaze whenever she looked at Yulian. She had also noticed that whenever Yulian spoke, his eyes would unconsciously drift toward Rosier.

She smiled and suggested, "Since this is such a coincidence, why don't we walk around together? There are still some interesting stalls at Fonsali's Christmas market, and Gabri has been going on and on about making magical gingerbread."

Rosier hesitated for a moment. Catching the anticipation in the corner of Yulian's eyes, she eventually nodded.

The group of four was exceptionally lively. Gabri acted like a little guide, pulling them from one stall to another.

At the magical dessert shop, they sampled hot chocolate that gave off snowflakes. The gingerbread men danced on their plates, and when bitten, they even gave off the crisp sound of tiny bells.

At a handmade accessories stall, Rosier picked up a star-shaped brooch set with tiny diamonds and examined it from every angle.

While she was hesitating, Yulian had already bought it from the vendor. "This is beautiful. It goes perfectly with your snake brooch—one cold and austere, the other dazzling. Let's say it's my Christmas gift to you."

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

Pheobe continued to play the role of a gentle mediator. She deliberately steered the conversation toward ancient books and Magical Theory, topics they both enjoyed, watching them gradually go from reserved to completely at ease.

When Yulian brought up an obscure book on astral magic in the Hogwarts Library, a spark of shared understanding lit Rosier's eyes, and she took the initiative to share records on astral studies from her family's collection;

When Rosier mentioned that although the Slytherin Common Room was underground, it had a periscope through which they could observe the stars, Yulian enthusiastically described the astronomical observatory in Ravenclaw Tower.

Pheobe, who was several years older than both of them, found the exchange amusing while also learning more about Hogwarts.

As the sun sank, they had toured the entire market. Gabri hugged a bag filled with candy and small toys and lay half-asleep against Pheobe's shoulder.

The four decided to rest for a while at a tavern in town before rejoining the adults.

Led by Pheobe, they found the legendary tavern at the end of Moss Alley in the Town of Fonsali—Le Chêne et le Gobelet, or the Old Oak Cup. A gnarled oak tree was carved into the lintel, with a patina-covered goblet embedded in its hollow.

The tavern looked small from outside, but its interior was astonishingly deep, as though the space had been quietly extended.

The ceiling was low, and the beams were made of century-old, unpolished oak. Dozens of breathing firefly lamps were embedded in them—not real insects, but luminous potions sealed inside tiny glass bottles. Their brightness and color changed with the patrons' moods: they glowed gold when people laughed, turned blue when patrons fell into thought, and abruptly went out when arguments broke out.

The bar was exceptionally distinctive. It had been made by splitting an entire fallen ancient oak tree, and a natural hollow remained in the heartwood. It had now been converted into an automatic drink dispenser.

According to Pheobe, if someone dropped a silver Sickle into the hollow, it would produce a drink suited to their mood—bitter "Regret Ale," sweet and mellow "Old Dream Butterbeer," or spicy "Duelist's Flame."

After entering, the group found a small table for four and sat down. The table and chairs were all made of dark beechwood. They looked quite old, but had been polished exceptionally clean.

Though it was called a bar, it also served nonalcoholic drinks suitable for young wizards. The group ordered the house specialty, "Heart of Oak," made from oak sap and Butterbeer and said to enhance memory.

The tavern was warm and cozy. Wizards sat in groups of three or five, drinking foaming Flame Whiskey and speaking in low voices.

Several old wizards at the neighboring table were chatting about the town's gossip when the subject suddenly turned to the abandoned old church.

"Have you heard? Someone saw green light flash inside the church again last night," said a wizard with a graying beard in a lowered voice.

"Hey, that rumor's been around for decades. They say it's resentment left behind when the Muggles departed, but I say it was just the shadow of the wind moving the windows." Another wizard waved dismissively.

"But my cousin said he passed by late at night last week and heard strange whispers coming from inside, as if someone were reciting a spell."

"Stop guessing. That place is creepy. Who would go there except a lost Muggle?"

Everyone laughed, and the conversation quickly moved on to something else.

Rosier held her cup, her fingertips unconsciously rubbing its rim. "Looks like everyone here knows the rumors about that church being haunted."

"Most of it is probably just hearsay." Yulian said that aloud, but inwardly he recalled the Moon Shadow Council member he had glimpsed during the day. Could that abandoned church be their hideout?

Pheobe set down her cup, her expression thoughtful. She naturally had not forgotten the gray figure that had flashed past during the day, nor the Thorn Crescent mark on his arm.

"Perhaps, but there's no smoke without fire." She looked at Yulian and Rosier, her tone meaningful. "Still, since no one usually goes there, we don't need to investigate it deliberately. Safety comes first, after all."

Yulian also felt certain that Pheobe would report the matter to Madame Maxime, so he said nothing more.

After all, this place was not far from Beauxbatons. No one would want to provoke that big woman.

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

The four left the tavern as snow began drifting down once more. Rosier's aunt's home was nearby, so Pheobe bid them farewell with the sleepy-eyed Gabri in her arms.

"If you're free sometime, come to my grandmother's house for tea. She has quite a collection of old magical picture books."

"Sure, I'll definitely come." Yulian nodded in agreement.

Rosier stood at the crossroads, looking into Yulian's eyes. Holding the star brooch he had given her, she said softly, "Thank you for today..."

"Actually, I should be the one thanking you," Yulian said with a smile. "I had a great time walking around 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 return that notebook about Hogwarts's foundations after you finish reading it. I still have some additional notes for it."

"No problem." Yulian waved goodbye and watched her figure disappear at the end of the path.