Christmas Eve.
Austria, a three-story house beside the University of Vienna.
The house looked utterly unremarkable, no different in style from the other houses in the neighborhood.
Only, the snow lay flawlessly even across the sky-blue roof—any more would be excessive, any less insufficient—and the snow by the entrance had been neatly swept aside as well.
It looked more like building blocks arranged by someone with obsessive-compulsive disorder than snowflakes randomly deposited by nature.
That meticulous sense of beauty made the owner of the house seem rather extraordinary.
The next second, a graceful figure suddenly appeared on the empty street.
Even in such a frigid winter, she wore only a wool coat over a seemingly thin women's suit.
The dark red outfit perfectly complemented her tall, lovely figure, making her look capable and elegant in a way that did not suit her age.
Above her swanlike neck was a soft, delicate face. Her black hair was pinned up, making her look more like a traditional Eastern woman than someone of Slavic descent.
Cynthia Vasika—that was the name of this elegant young woman.
Amused, she looked at the snow on top of the house. It was so smooth that it seemed to have been leveled bit by bit with a shovel.
"What kind of Muggle is like this?" she muttered helplessly. "Your teacher really is a handful."
Then she stepped forward, strolling ahead at an unhurried pace.
Click, click, click...
The sound of her high heels was faint on the street. Like her sudden appearance, it went unnoticed.
But as soon as she approached the house, the gate opened automatically as though it had sensed her, accompanied by the ringing of bells, revealing the dim corridor within.
Cynthia was not surprised in the slightest and stepped inside with practiced ease.
She