The Last Protection: Harriett Potter's Legacy

Chapter 40: Frosted Windows and New Beginnings

The early morning frost clung to the wide, arched windows of Beauxbatons Academy, transforming the glass into a tapestry of icy artistry. Harriett Black sat perched on the windowsill of her dormitory, her breath forming faint puffs of condensation against the chill. Wrapped snugly in a soft, enchanted blanket that radiated warmth, she cradled a cup of spiced tea in her hands. The fragrant steam swirled upward, mingling with her thoughts as she gazed out at the pristine snow blanketing the school grounds.

Winter at Beauxbatons was nothing short of magical. The school’s manicured gardens were now frosted with a sparkling layer of snow, their usually vibrant flowers replaced by gleaming icicles and enchanted evergreens. Beyond the gardens lay the lake, its surface frozen into a shimmering mirror that reflected the soft pastels of the early dawn sky. The sight was breathtaking, yet Harriett’s mind drifted far from the serene beauty before her.

The Yule holidays loomed just weeks away, stirring a bittersweet mix of emotions within her. Beauxbatons, with its elegant halls and enchanting atmosphere, had quickly become a sanctuary for Harriett, yet it wasn’t home. Home was Sirius’s infectious laughter, Orion’s steadfast wisdom, and the familiarity of family—however unconventional theirs might be. A twinge of homesickness curled in her chest, made sharper by the knowledge that her cousin Draco wouldn’t even be there; his letters from Durmstrang spoke of rigorous training and icy landscapes, but his absence left a void in her sense of belonging.

The melodic chime of the breakfast bell interrupted her musings. Harriett reluctantly set her teacup down, folded her blanket with care, and began dressing for the day. Her roommates, Amélie and Sabine, were already bustling about the room, their chatter filling the air with a lively energy.

"Harriett, we’ll meet you in the hall!" Amélie called as she fastened the clasp of her velvet cape, her curls bouncing as she moved.

"I’ll be quick," Harriett replied, slipping into her uniform and adjusting the pale blue sash that denoted her year. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and grabbed her satchel before heading out.

---

The Great Hall was a spectacle of winter enchantment. Dozens of floating candles hovered in midair, their golden flames casting a warm glow across the long, polished tables. Above, enchanted snowflakes drifted down from the vaulted ceiling, disappearing just before they touched the students. The hall buzzed with chatter, the excitement of the approaching Yule Ball an unspoken undercurrent to every conversation.

Harriett took her seat among her classmates and reached for a warm croissant, savoring the buttery layers as they melted on her tongue. The cheerful hum of the room was interrupted by a familiar, melodic voice.

"Harriett!"

She looked up to see Fleur Delacour approaching, her silvery-blonde hair catching the light like strands of moonlight. Fleur moved with effortless grace, and heads turned as she passed, though she paid no attention to the admiring gazes.

"Good morning, Fleur," Harriett greeted with a smile.

Fleur sat elegantly across from her, selecting a delicate tart from the table. "You look pensive this morning," she observed, her French accent adding a musical lilt to her words. "Are you thinking about the Yule Ball?"

"A little," Harriett admitted, sipping her hot chocolate. "But mostly about the holidays. It’ll be my first time home since the term began."

Fleur tilted her head, her sapphire eyes softening with understanding. "It is always hard to be away from family. But the Yule Ball will be a wonderful distraction. Have you chosen your gown yet?"

Harriett shook her head, a small flush creeping into her cheeks. "Not yet. I don’t even know where to start."

Fleur’s lips curved into a warm smile. "Do not worry, ma chère. I will help you. Together, we will find something perfect."

Harriett felt a flicker of relief. Fleur’s confidence in her was reassuring, and the thought of having her guidance eased some of the anxiety bubbling under the surface.

---

The day’s classes were infused with the festive spirit of the season. In Charms, Professor Cécile taught them how to enchant ornaments to float and emit a soft, magical glow. Harriett’s bauble shimmered with a golden light, its surface swirling with patterns of stars and crescent moons. Professor Cécile gave her a rare nod of approval, which Harriett accepted with quiet pride.

In Transfiguration, the task was to transform blocks of wood into intricate snowflake ornaments. Harriett’s first attempt resulted in a lopsided shape that resembled a splintered star more than a snowflake.

"Focus on precision," Professor Moreau instructed, her sharp eyes scanning the room.

By her third try, Harriett managed a symmetrical snowflake, though it lacked the delicate intricacy of some of her classmates’ creations. Still, she felt a sense of accomplishment.

The afternoon brought History of Magic, where Professor D’Arques regaled them with tales of magical Yule traditions from around the world. Harriett found herself engrossed, her quill moving swiftly as she took notes on the enchanted ice palaces of Northern Europe and the fire-dancing rituals of South America.

---

After classes, Harriett retreated to the library, her favorite sanctuary within the school. The warmth of the fireplace and the soft glow of lanterns created a cozy haven amidst the winter chill. She spread her notes across the table, her quill scratching against parchment as she worked on her assignments. Occasionally, she glanced out the tall windows, watching the snowfall and imagining the warmth of home.

Her solitude was interrupted by Amélie and Sabine, who burst into the library with barely-contained excitement.

"There you are!" Amélie exclaimed, her cheeks flushed from the cold. "We’ve been looking for you. It’s time to practice for the ball!"

Harriett groaned, setting her quill down. "Practice what?"

"Dancing, of course!" Sabine replied, rolling her eyes as though it were obvious. "You can’t attend the ball without knowing how to waltz. Come on, we’ll show you."

Despite her protests, Harriett found herself dragged back to the dormitory, where Amélie had conjured a record player. As the lilting strains of a waltz filled the room, Sabine demonstrated the steps with exaggerated precision.

Harriett’s first attempt was clumsy at best. She tripped over her own feet, stepped on Amélie’s toes, and nearly collided with the wardrobe.

"Relax!" Sabine laughed, catching her before she stumbled again. "You’re too tense. Let the music guide you."

By the end of the evening, Harriett had managed a few passable turns. Her movements were far from graceful, but the room was filled with laughter, and the awkwardness of the lesson only brought them closer.

---

That night, as Harriett lay in bed, her body aching slightly from the day’s exertions, she stared up at the enchanted canopy above her. The translucent fabric shimmered with a soft glow, mirroring the falling snow outside.

Her thoughts drifted to the upcoming holidays, to the warmth of family waiting for her in France. Though she missed them fiercely, she felt a quiet sense of pride. Beauxbatons had challenged her in ways she hadn’t anticipated, but it had also helped her grow. She was learning to navigate new friendships, new traditions, and the complexities of her magical education.

As she closed her eyes, the sound of the wind outside her window lulled her to sleep. Tomorrow would bring more challenges and discoveries, but for now, she was content. The Yule Ball, the holidays, and her family awaited her—and for the first time in a long while, Harriett felt ready for whatever came next.