The polished marble floors of Harrods' Christmas wonderland echoed with a unique kind of chaos: the sound of two billionaire heiresses on a mission, trailed by their small, unpredictable shadows.
"Right," Talora declared, consulting a colour-coded spreadsheet on her new tablet. "Van Cleef & Arpels for the girls. The sweet Alhambra bracelets in mother-of-pearl. Matching. It's a statement of unity."
Shya, draped in a cashmere coat, was already at the counter, pointing. "Five of those. And we're in a hurry, our brothers are about to test the tensile strength of a mannequin's arm." She gestured to where Tristan, a whirlwind of six-year-old energy in a miniature Burberry trench coat, was attempting to coax the quieter, wide-eyed Arya dressed similarly into a coordinated poking attack on a display.
"It's not safe,Tristan," Arya whispered, though a small, uncharacteristically mischievous smile played on his lips.
"That's the point!" Tristan chirped.
The shopping continued with ruthless efficiency. For Cassian, Shya selected a pair of sleek, black diamond cufflinks, their surfaces etched with a subtle, almost arcane geometric pattern that reminded her of wand movements. "For when he has to look intimidatingly polite," she said, handing over a black credit card without looking at the price.
Talora, for Roman, chose a vintage Cartier tank watch with a sapphire cabochon crown. "It's classic. Timeless. And it will infuriate him that he can't figure out how it works without magic," she said with a satisfied smirk.
Their final stop was the book department, where they procured two complete, leather-bound sets of the Encyclopedia Britannica. "For the boys ," Talora stated. "A foundational text on the non-magical world. It's intellectually responsible."
"And it'll make their pureblood heads explode," Shya added, grinning.
That evening, the gala was a symphony of whispered wealth. The girls stood beside their mothers, who were indeed a breathtaking spectacle. Mrs. Gill was a vision in a deep emerald Sabyasachi Sari, a flawless pear-shaped diamond necklace resting at her throat, matched by teardrop earrings and a cascade of diamond and emerald bangles. Mrs. Livanthos was a study in icy elegance in a Dior silver-grey gown, her neck adorned with a spectacular collar of Graff diamonds, her wrist sporting a historic-looking diamond tennis bracelet.
A society matron drifted over. "Carrie, Renu, darlings! And these must be your girls! So elegant. And which Swiss academy are they attending? Le Rosey?"
Carrie offered a perfectly polished smile. "It's a private institution in Scotland, actually. The Aethelred Academy. It follows a… legacy admission system. Very exclusive, very discreet."
The woman's smile was envious. "Oh! How impressive. One hears such things exist."
Shya leaned towards Talora as the woman drifted away. "Aethelred Academy? Really?"
"Better than telling the truth" Talora retorted, " you know how elitist these people can be, if they make fun of our school, I'm going to subtly charm their champagne to taste like pickled slug"
"You don't know that spell."
"I'm a creative problem-solver, Bob."
The next day, the atmosphere inside the Leaky Cauldron was a stark contrast to the gala. Shya wrinkled her nose the moment they stepped inside, the scent of old wood, smoke, and something unidentifiable assaulting her senses.
"Ugh, it's still so… grimy," she muttered, pulling her coat tighter as if for protection.
"It's a pub, Shya, it's supposed to be a bit grimy," Talora said, though she too looked disdainfully at a sticky patch on a nearby table.
"A bar! We're in a bar!" Tristan whispered excitedly, tugging on Arya's sleeve.
"We are still below the legal drinking age," Arya whispered back, though he looked around with wide, fascinated eyes.
"And we're leaving," Shya said, grabbing both their hands and steering them towards the back courtyard. "No bar for you two."
As they pushed open the door into the chilly courtyard, they nearly collided with two figures just stepping through the archway that had just sealed itself back into a brick wall.
Roman Nott brushed imaginary dust from his impeccable robes. "Well, this is a surprise."
Beside him, Cassian stood, his hands in his pockets, his gaze immediately finding Shya. His eyes did a quick, assessing sweep of the scene: the two disgruntled girls, the two wide-eyed little boys.
"Nott. Black," Talora said, her voice a mix of surprise and forced composure.
"Livanthos. Gill," Roman replied, his dimples appearing. His eyes fell on the two boys hiding behind their sisters. "And who are these two distinguished gentlemen?"
Shya nudged Arya forward. "This is my brother, Arya." Arya pushed his glasses up his nose and gave a tiny, formal nod.
"And this is my brother, Tristan," Talora said. Tristan, emboldened, puffed out his chest. "We were in a bar!"
Cassian's lips twitched. "I see."
"We were just leaving," Talora said, trying to regain control of the situation.
"Nonsense," Roman said smoothly. "You've barely arrived. And we've just finished our errand. We were about to get a drink. We can escort you." He looked at Tristan and Arya. "We can show you how to tap the right brick to make the wall open. It's a secret."
The boys were instantly sold, their earlier awe replaced by excitement. As Roman and Cassian led them back to the wall, the girls had no choice but to follow.
The afternoon was a blur of magic and laughter. Roman charmed the boys completely, producing a small, charmed snitch that orbited Tristan's head while patiently explaining to Arya how the charm-work bypassed conventional aerodynamics. Cassian, in his quiet way, pointed out interesting architectural details of the alley that even the girls had missed, his commentary dry and intelligent, making Shya laugh.
Later, as they all sipped Butterbeer in the Leaky Cauldron—the girls having decided it was marginally less grimy with company—the conversation flowed easily.
"So, the infamous shopping trip," Roman said, leaning back. "Acquire anything interesting, or was it all… tactical?"
"It was strategic," Talora corrected primly.
"We got you something," Shya told Cassian with a sly grin. "But it's a secret."
"As is yours," Talora added, looking at Roman.
"A mystery," Roman said, his eyes alight. "I adore a good mystery."
When it was time to leave, and the girls herded their tired, overstimulated brothers towards the exit, Roman called out, "Until term, Livanthos. Try not to over-schedule your holiday."
"I make no promises, Nott!"
Cassian simply gave Shya a slow, deliberate nod. "Gill."
She winked. "Black."
POV: Shya -Christmas Morning
The Gill household was a warm, cozy chaos of torn wrapping paper. Arya, no longer bookish but a giggling, excited 7-year-old, shoved a clumsily wrapped box at her. "It's a bomb!" he announced proudly. Inside was a "Muggle-Wizard Translater" he'd built from Legos and tin foil that did absolutely nothing. She hugged him tightly. "It's perfect."
Her parents' gifts were exercises in quiet luxury. A diamond necklace from her mother, each stone a perfect marquise cut. From her father, a simple black credit card with no limit. "For whatever you need, puth," he said, his eyes warm.
Talora gave her, a beautiful hand written letter and a gorgeous signet ring with her star sign.
But the gifts from her magical friends were the ones that truly captivated her. Padma sent a beautiful, charmed silk scarf that shifted through the colours of the sunrise. Lisa's gift was a set of enchanted hair pins that would automatically style her hair based on her mood. Mandy gave her a small, enchanted journal that would sketch whatever she described aloud.
Then came the boys' gifts. Roman's was first: a beautiful, old copy of Magical Drafts and Potions that had insightful notes scribbled in the margins in a neat, unfamiliar hand—a predecessor's, not his. It was thoughtful and intellectual.
Then she opened Cassian's. It was a small, heavy box. Inside, nestled on black velvet, was a bracelet. The chain was polished, shadowy goblin-forged silver, and from it hung a single, perfect pearl that seemed to hold a miniature, swirling galaxy within it. A small card was tucked beside it: 'For balance. - C.B.' She fastened it around her wrist, the pearl cool against her skin. It was the exact opposite of her usual chaos, and she loved it.
POV: Talora - Christmas Morning
The Livanthos Christmas was a grand, perfectly orchestrated affair. Tristan, buzzing with sugar and excitement, gifted her a painting of what looked like a giant squid fighting a dragon. "It's the Hogwarts squid!" he declared. She promised to frame it.
Her parents' gifts were staggering. From her mother, a Birkin bag. But this was no ordinary Birkin. The leather was a mosaic of rare, emerald-green dragon skin and iridescent Occamy skin, making it impossibly light and, of course, stretchless. It was a masterpiece. With it, a pair of flawless emerald studs. Her father presented her with the deed to a small, chic flat in Paris "for when you're older and need your own space." It was both a gift and a statement of expectation.
Shya having gifted her a homemade crocheted scarf and a beautiful gold pave diamond necklace.
Her friends' magical gifts were equally wonderful. Padma sent a set of self-warming, charmed gloves. Lisa gave her a small, enchanted plant that bloomed different flowers based on the season. Mandy's gift was a quill that never ran out of ink.
She opened Cassian's gift next. It was a first-edition copy of Magical Drafts and Potions that had insightful notes scribbled in the margins in a neat, unfamiliar hand. It was a serious, intellectual gift, and she appreciated its precision, setting it aside for further study.
Then came Roman's gift. It was a long, slender box. Inside, nestled on emerald-green velvet, were a pair of earrings. They were delicate, white gold, and from each hung a tiny, charmed moonstone that cycled through the phases of the moon in a slow, silent dance. They were whimsical, elegant, and utterly magical. There was no card. They didn't need one. They were a piece of his world, offered with a charming, effortless grace that was entirely him.
POV: Cassian - Christmas Morning
Malfoy Manor was silent. The gift exchange was a formal, bloodless ceremony. He received cursed dueling daggers from Lucius and an enchanted cloak pin from Narcissa.
From Talora, a meticulously researched and annotated guide to plant life and fauna in the Scottish Highlands.He respected it deeply.
Later, in the solitude of his room, he opened the large, heavy package from Shya. The complete Encyclopedia Britannica. He ran a hand over the leather bindings. A foundation of the non-magical world. It was the most intellectually generous and subtly challenging gift he had ever received. He then opened her personal gift. They were black diamond cufflinks. They were stark, modern, and uncompromising. A piece of her world, a challenge and an offering all at once. He set them carefully in his case, next to his Slytherin signet ring. They didn't belong together, and for the first time, that felt right.
POV: Roman - Christmas Morning
The Nott estate was a whirl of social calls. He played his part flawlessly, accepting traditional gifts with practiced grace.
In a rare moment of quiet, he opened the large, heavy package from the girls. The complete Encyclopedia Britannica. He burst out laughing, a real, uncalculated sound. It was audacious. It was brilliant.
A beautiful cashmere glove set with matching hat and scarf from Shya, and a charmed bejeweled comb from Cassian.
Then he opened Talora's personal gift to him. The vintage Cartier tank watch. He turned it over in his hands, fascinated by the tiny, precise gears. No magic. Just perfect, intricate engineering. A thing of beauty that obeyed rules he didn't understand. He fastened it, the leather strap soft against his skin. It felt like a secret. It felt like her.
Later that night, he wrote his letter.
Dear Livanthos,
The watch is… perplexing. And therefore, perfect. It refuses to explain itself, much like its giver. The estate is quiet. I find the silence louder than usual.
Yours,
Roman.