The world outside the castle windows turned into a swirling, silent ballet of white. The first true snowfall of the season had transformed the Hogwarts grounds into an untouched canvas, and it didn't stay untouched for long.
What began as a few playful snowballs soon escalated into a full-scale, strategic war. Talora, seeing the chaotic potential, immediately took command.
"Lisa, Mandy—you're on fortification. Use that packing charm we learned for snow bricks. Padma, you're our scout. Shya—"
"—I'm on offensive operations," Shya finished, already packing a snowball with a terrifyingly focused glee. "I'll be the chaos."
Their fort, under Talora's direction, was a marvel of elementary magical engineering—sturdy walls, a protected firing line, and even a rudimentary watchtower. Across the field, a less-organized group of boys, led with easy-going charm by Roman Nott, was building something that resembled a lopsided igloo.
The battle was joined. Shya was a whirlwind, her attacks creative and unpredictable. She'd create a diversion with a shout, then pop up from an entirely different direction to pelt an unsuspecting victim. Her primary target, however, quickly became the one boy who seemed utterly unflappable: Cassian Black.
He didn't run or shout. He stood his ground, his movements economical and precise. Each snowball he threw was a calculated strike, never wasted, always landing with a soft *thwump* on an arm or a shoulder. He was methodically dismantling the opposition, his grey eyes tracking Shya's chaotic movements with focused intensity. It was a silent, respectful duel between two opposing philosophies of combat.
Roman, meanwhile, dedicated his efforts solely to Talora. He didn't just attack her fort; he charmingly sabotaged it. He sent a charmed snowball that landed not on her, but on top of her watchtower, exploding into a shower of glittering frost that made her shriek with laughter-tinted indignation.
"Stop undermining my structural integrity, Nott!" she yelled, trying to sound angry but failing miserably.
"Can't help it, General!" he called back, his dimples on full display. "Your organizational skills are a provocation!"
***
Later, breathless, pink-cheeked, and wrapped in thick blankets, they occupied their dusty classroom sanctuary. Mugs of hot chocolate steamed in their hands, the only sound the crackle of the fire Talora had conjured and the howl of the wind outside.
The conversation inevitably turned to the looming Christmas break.
"So," Shya said, nudging Cassian's boot with her own. "What's a Black do for the holidays? Haunt a cursed manor? Plot world domination?"
A flicker of something—amusement?—crossed his face. "Malfoy Manor, actually."
Shya's nose wrinkled in genuine distaste. "Malfoy? You're spending Christmas with *Draco*? That sounds like a special kind of torture. What did you do to deserve that?"
Cassian took a slow sip of his chocolate. "He's my cousin. A distant one. My aunt Narcissa is... lovely. It's her son who is the trial." He said it with such dry finality that Shya burst out laughing.
"Your 'lovely' aunt spawned THAT? How does that even happen?"
"An unanswered question for the ages," he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Family obligations must be endured."
"Well," Shya declared, "I'm going to send you so many stupid letters about my brother's weird science experiments that you'll have a perfect excuse to hide and read. Consider it my Christmas gift to you—a legitimate reason to avoid conversational dead ends with a walking pompadour."
The mood was light, but beneath it ran a current of melancholy. The "Bobs," of course, had their own plans.
"We'll be in London," Talora said, as if stating a fundamental law of the universe. "We'll call every day, obviously. And we have to go to Harrods for presents. My mother already sent me a list of suggestions."
Their ease was a stark contrast to the others. Padma, Mandy, and Lisa made quieter promises to write, their loyalty to the group now a firm and comfortable thing.
In a lull in the conversation, Cassian's voice was quiet, meant only for Shya. "The Manor is... opulent. But it can be cold. Your letters will be a welcome distraction." It was a small crack in his armor, a glimpse of the reality behind the pureblood name.
Across the room, Roman leaned toward Talora. "It'll be dreadfully boring without you there to organize everything, Livanthos," he murmured. "I might actually have to read for fun." The tease was there, but the sentiment underneath was genuine.
For a long moment, the whole group just sat in comfortable silence, watching the snow fall past their window. The fort-building, the strategic battles, the shared hot chocolate—it had cemented something between them. This was their circle. And for a little while, at least, it was all that mattered.
***
A few days later, the pre-break tension was palpable. In the library, Shya and Talora were hunting for a specific text on enchanting everyday objects when they were halted by loud, frantic whispering from the next aisle.
"...a three-headed dog, Harry! In a school!" Ron Weasley's voice was a strangled hiss.
"And it was standing on a trapdoor," Harry Potter's voice, sharp with adrenaline, replied. "Guarding something. But what? And who is Nicolas Flamel?"
"While I'm away for the holiday break, harry you and ronald must search more of the library to figure out who that is" Hermione's voice cut in.
Shya and Talora froze, their eyes locking. They listened as the three Gryffindors' footsteps hurried away, their argument about "Hagrid's dragon" fading.
The moment they were gone, Shya turned to Talora. "A three-headed dog? That's a Cerberus. They're used to guard—"
"—things of immense value or danger," Talora finished, her mind already racing, piecing it together. "And Nicolas Flamel..." Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "He's the only known creator of..."
Shya's breath caught. "...the Philosopher's Stone."
They stood in the silent, dusty aisle, the childish joy of snowball fights and the cozy plans for the holidays suddenly feeling a million miles away. They were leaving for break, but they were now carrying a secret back with them—a chilling understanding that something of legendary power was hidden within their school's walls, and the world of magic was far more dangerous than they had ever imagined.