Of Dreams and Drowning - A Theseus' Scamander Fanfiction

6 - The Calm Before Shadows

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January, 1911
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January had settled over their little flat in London like a thick blanket of silence, muffling the sounds of the city beyond the frost-covered windows. Outside, the streets lay frozen under a brittle sky, the air sharp enough to bite. But inside the modest home that Evelyn shared with her family, a lingering warmth from the Christmas holiday refused to fade, a glow no winter chill could extinguish.

Evelyn sat by the narrow window in her room, tracing invisible patterns on the frosty glass with the tip of her finger. Below, the street seemed suspended in a cold stillness, as if London itself had exhaled and forgotten to draw breath again. Their holiday had been simple—just as it always was. There were no grand gestures or piles of gifts beneath a tree, but they never needed much. They had each other, and for Evelyn, that had always been enough.

Christmas morning had arrived quietly, wrapped in the scent of cinnamon and pine. Geneviève, as she did every year, prepared their traditional breakfast—flaky pastries warmed in the oven, accompanied by spiced tea that filled the flat with comfort. Magnus, reliable as ever, distributed their small gifts with a boyish smile, his grey eyes twinkling beneath the candlelight. The presents were few but thoughtful, each one carefully chosen.

Evelyn's mother had knitted her a pair of gloves, soft and warm, the wool infused with the kind of care only a mother could stitch into fabric. Her father had given her a second-hand book, its pages yellowed and corners frayed—but it was the very one she'd been eyeing for months in the bookshop window.

Then Walter pulled her aside, glancing over his shoulder as if to make sure their parents wouldn't notice. With a smirk, he slipped a small, paper-wrapped package into her hands, winking.

Evelyn peeled back the layers of parchment, revealing a miniature glass bottle filled with firewhisky and a hefty bag of chocolate frogs. She laughed, a mix of surprise and excitement lighting up her face.

"Thought you might need a little something to keep you and your friends warm after that Quidditch match," he murmured, nudging her playfully. "But don't get caught. Mum would kill me."

Evelyn's face broke into a grin as she hugged him tightly, tucking the little bottle and sweets into her pocket with a conspiratorial gleam. It was such a Walter thing to do—thoughtful, but with a dash of harmless mischief.

But the best part of Christmas wasn't the gifts. It never was. It was the time spent together—rare, fleeting moments when the weight of the outside world seemed to vanish, and they could simply be a family. They'd crowded around the small, worn table, the glow from the fireplace flickering against the walls, sharing old stories and easy laughter.

It was during one of these moments, as the warmth of spiced tea filled the air and Walter stretched back in his chair with a rare smile, that the conversation drifted toward his work.

At first, Walter had been reluctant to speak about it, as always. His job as an Auror was not something he enjoyed discussing—too dangerous, too heavy with things better left unspoken. But that evening, something had shifted. Perhaps it was the comfort of being home, or the way Magnus and Geneviève listened so intently, proud but quietly anxious.

Walter's voice had softened, steady and sure, as he recounted the details of a recent case—a dangerous investigation that had demanded precision and nerves of steel. There was a quiet pride in the way he spoke, but Evelyn could hear the weight beneath his words too, the invisible burden that came with the responsibility of keeping others safe.

She watched him as he talked, her admiration swelling with every sentence. She knew the dangers of his work—more than she liked to admit. And yet, despite the fear that gnawed at her whenever she thought too hard about it, she couldn't help but be proud of the man her brother had become.