Alphonse and Emilie Lavallée are fraternal twins. Born in France, they enrolled at BeauxBatons, the French school for witches and wizards, when they were 11.
However, school life hasn't been all great for Emilie. Shy and awkward, she was quickly ta...
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Chapter 18:
The Gaunt Family / La Famille Gaunt
As the owl gracefully descends towards me, its wings cutting through the air with a soft whoosh, I feel a surge of nervous anticipation. With each beat of its wings, my heart races faster. Brown feathers rustle as the owl lands, a letter clutched tightly in its beak. I reach out eagerly, my fingertips tingling with excitement, and snatch the letter from the messenger. A quick scratch behind its feathery ear earns me a contented hoot before it takes flight once more.
With trembling hands, I tear open the letter, my breath caught in my throat as I scan the words.
"Dear Emilie,
of course you can, it's the least I can do to thank you! I'll be back tomorrow with the first train. Give HighWind a hug for me!
Love, Poppy."
A delighted squeal bubbles up from within me, echoing off the stone walls of the Great Hall. Heads turn, eyebrows arching in curiosity, as I struggle to contain my joy. With a sheepish smile and a nod of apology to my classmates, I gather my belongings in a flurry of excitement. My veins thrum with exhilaration, as I leave the Slytherin table, my feet barely touching the ground as I hasten towards the exit. Down the grand staircase I go, each step echoing with the rhythm of my racing heart.
The last Saturday of the break has dawned upon Hogwarts, casting a tranquil spell over the castle as it rests in a quiet embrace. The air hums with a sense of anticipation, a prelude to the bustling energy that will return tomorrow with the dawn of a new trimester. While the thought of facing Hecat's challenges and the mounting workload fails to ignite excitement within me, the prospect of Seb's imminent return from Feldcroft injects a welcome spark into the stillness. There's a palpable sense of excitement lingering in the air, like the crackle of magic before a spell is cast.
As the break winds down, our agenda before the Christmas holiday seems to expand exponentially. There's the intricate planning required for our clandestine expedition into the forbidden depths of the library's restricted section, unraveling the mysteries behind my wand mishap. Then there's the elusive scriptorium, a quest for Anne. Ominis isn't exactly throwing confetti for that one, but it looks like he's begrudgingly accepted it. He even broke his usual trend and reached out to his family for more info, a pretty big deal considering how he usually dodges them like a Quaffle. Surprisingly, they were more than willing to spill the magical tea, thrilled at the thought of Ominis's igniting interest in the dark arts. At least, that's what they believe.
