The Last Protection: Harriett Potter's Legacy

Chapter 42: Letters and Longing

The frosty December mornings at Beauxbatons carried a unique charm. Harriett had grown fond of waking up to the sight of the sun glinting off the frost-covered garden outside her dormitory window. Enchantments cast over the academy’s sprawling grounds made winter feel like stepping into a fairy tale. Statues of dancing ice nymphs shimmered in the courtyard, and the warm golden light spilling from the castle’s windows painted the snow in hues of amber.

But today, a different kind of excitement buzzed through the dormitory. Letters from home had begun arriving in a steady stream, and the girls wasted no time tearing into their envelopes, reading aloud updates from their families.

Harriett sat on the edge of her bed, her steaming cup of cocoa untouched beside her. Her letter rested unopened on her lap, Sirius’s familiar handwriting scrawled across the envelope. She wanted to read it—longed to, even—but a strange hesitation rooted her in place.

“Harriett,” Sabine said, raising an eyebrow as she flopped down onto her own bed, her hair falling in perfectly disheveled waves over her shoulders, “why haven’t you opened your letter yet? I thought you’d be the first.”

Harriett forced a small smile. “I will. I’m just... savoring the moment.”

“Or stalling,” Amélie teased from across the room, her sharp hazel eyes glinting with amusement. She was sprawled in an armchair, her own letter already cast aside. “You’ve been staring at that envelope for ages. What’s stopping you?”

Harriett hesitated. “I guess I’m just nervous. I haven’t written home as often as I should. What if they’re upset?”

Amélie let out a soft laugh. “Oh, please. Families love updates, but they don’t fall apart over a missed letter or two. Besides, you’re you, Harriett. They probably think you’re off saving unicorns or something.”

Sabine added, “Or charming everyone at the Yule Ball.”

The memory of the ball brought a faint blush to Harriett’s cheeks. She had danced—awkwardly, at first, but by the end of the night, she had managed to enjoy herself. She hadn’t written about it, though. She hadn’t written about much of anything.

With a deep breath, Harriett slid her finger under the envelope’s seal and unfolded the parchment inside. Sirius’s handwriting leapt out at her, each word brimming with his usual warmth and humor.

---

Dear Harriett,

I hope this letter finds you well and thriving in your first term at Beauxbatons. It feels strange not having you here; the house is far too quiet without your constant questions, complaints about the weather, and attempts to outwit Orion.

Speaking of Orion, he’s doing well—better than I expected, really. He’s been spending more time in the library, muttering about something he won’t share. Knowing him, it’s probably a genealogy project or some other old Black family nonsense.

Remus has officially settled in, and let me tell you, the man has a way of bringing calm wherever he goes. Andromeda and Narcissa are already pestering him to join their Yule dinner plans. It’s turning into a full-blown production. I’m half-expecting them to charm the turkey into performing opera.

How’s school treating you? I want to know everything—your classes, your friends, and of course, the Yule Ball. Did you dance? Did you have fun?

We all miss you terribly, Harriett. Even Kreacher has been oddly quiet without you around to boss him about. Write back soon, won’t you?

Love,
Sirius

---

Harriett couldn’t help but smile as she read the letter. She could almost hear Sirius’s voice in every line, his playful tone easing the knot of homesickness in her chest.

“What does it say?” Sabine asked, peering over her shoulder.

Harriett folded the letter and tucked it back into the envelope. “It’s just Sirius being Sirius. Updates on home, teasing me about the Yule Ball. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Do you miss them?” Sabine’s tone was softer now, less teasing.

Harriett nodded, glancing out the window at the frost-covered grounds. “Every day. But Beauxbatons is starting to feel like home, too.”

---

That evening, after her classes and a hearty dinner in the Great Hall, Harriett retreated to the common room with her quill and parchment. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting dancing shadows on the stone walls.

She stared at the blank page for a moment before finally dipping her quill into the ink.

Dear Sirius,

Thank you for your letter. It made me laugh and miss home even more. Beauxbatons is beautiful, especially in winter. The grounds look like something out of a dream. There are these statues in the courtyard that sparkle like diamonds in the snow, and every window glows like a star.

The Yule Ball was... an experience. At first, I felt completely out of place, but my friends Sabine and Amélie helped me feel more comfortable. And yes, I danced! I still can’t believe it.

I’m glad to hear Remus is settling in. He’s always been good at finding his place, hasn’t he? Tell him I said hello—and that I’ll write him separately soon. As for Orion... well, I’ll believe his “pleasantness” when I see it for myself.

I miss you all so much. Even Kreacher—don’t tell him I said that. I wish I could be home for the holidays, but I’m excited to see what Yule is like at Beauxbatons. Write back soon.

Yours,
Harriett

---

By the time she sealed the envelope and sent it off with one of the school’s snowy owls, Harriett felt a little lighter. Writing to Sirius reminded her of the life she’d left behind—a life she was determined not to forget, even as she carved out a new one at Beauxbatons.

The days leading up to the Yule holidays were a blur of assignments, laughter with her friends, and quiet moments by the fire. Harriett found herself thinking often of her family, imagining them preparing for the grand dinner Sirius had mentioned. She could almost see Andromeda fussing over the table settings and Narcissa charming the decorations to perfection.

Yet, amidst the homesickness, there was a growing sense of belonging at Beauxbatons. Harriett had stepped into a new world when she arrived, and though it wasn’t always easy, it was hers to navigate.

And as the frost deepened and the holidays approached, Harriett held onto the warmth of Sirius’s words, letting them guide her through the winter chill.