Christmas had come, and kicked the door in.
Ilvermorny and the rest of the world had officially gone on Christmas break. After a long and hard championship, she thought she deserved this break.
Resting had never been something she did, often finding herself with new things to do all the time, like spells and new ideas för her plants and strange magic. But for once she had settled down in the reading room of her very own manor.
It felt good to be back at the mansion in the middle of the forest. Rowan and Elsbeth had picked her up from New York as normal, both were even more excited about her win than she had been.
The mansion had been redecorated like usual with Christmas everywhere. not as many Santa's here compared to Ilvermorny, something she happily would be without. They had brought a lot of mischief to the school during the last week, some even stealing underwear and socks from students.
But Fila had arrived home with a very stern warning to the maids of the manor, "No, fucking, santas."
So now, only a big Santa stood by the fireplace in the living room, but Fila had her eye on that one, even making a flower watch over it around the clock. The poor enchanted statue had been behaving itself so far, but she swore she saw it twitch suspiciously whenever she walked past.
She sank deeper into the oversized armchair by the tall window, a thick book on ancient herbology open in her lap. Outside, snow blanketed the forest in soft white, the trees standing like silent guardians around the manor. Inside, the fire crackled warmly, and the air smelled of pine, cinnamon, and fresh-baked gingerbread from the kitchens.
Rowan appeared at the door with a tray, his large ears perked up happily. "Miss Fila! Elsbeth made your favorite, gingerbread with extra frosting, and hot chocolate with those little floating marshmallows that look like tiny snowmen."
Fila smiled, setting the book aside. "Thanks, Rowan. You two are spoiling me."
Vinda sat on the couch on her left, reading a newspaper. While Elsbeth sat and made the finishing touches on Fila's new school uniform.
"Alright Fila, try it on now." Elsbeth held up the red uniform of Durmstrang. Together with the black pants and fur shoulder-cape.
She stood Infront of the mirror. Deep-red uniform, she looked like a soldier more than a student she thought as she flexed her back. But the colors were actually very nice, they didn't scream at you but almost gave this sort of respect. Kind of like seeing an police officer, you would think 'he/she got power'.
"it suits you, I thought the Ilvermorny uniform looked good, but the red matches with your black hair." Vinda threw a comment from the couch. "It makes you really feel more threatening than in red and blue."
Vinda had always disliked the colors of Ilvermorny, and to some extend Fila agreed that they were a bit tacky. But now it had become just part of her life.
Fila looked outside, snow had already started to pile of high, but with the same determination as always, she stepped out into the cold for one purpose.
"Hello mom," she said softly, brushing the fresh snow from the smooth headstone with a gloved hand. The small clearing in the forest behind the manor was quiet, the trees standing like silent guardians draped in white. A single enchanted lantern floated nearby, casting a gentle golden glow over the grave.
The stone was simple but elegant, white marble with delicate carvings of blooming flowers along the edges. Lyra Rosier, Beloved Mother, Fierce Heart. Fila had added the flowers herself years ago, and they still bloomed softly even in winter, thanks to a permanent warming charm she refreshed every visit.
"I won the tournament," she murmured, voice barely louder than the whispering wind through the pines. "It was messy. People got hurt. I almost… I almost crossed a line with the last one. But I didn't. I chose to put him to sleep instead." She let out a small, tired laugh. "You'd probably say that was too soft. Or maybe you'd be proud. I still don't know which version of you I'm talking to sometimes."
She gave a long sigh, as the cold had started to bite against the tears running down her cheek. "You know mom… i… I hate it."
Fila's voice cracked, barely louder than the whispering wind through the pines. She brushed more snow from the headstone, her gloved fingers lingering on the carved name as if touching it could somehow bring her mother closer.
"I hate how much it hurts. All of it. The duels, the people smiling while they try to break me, the way they look at me like I'm already halfway to becoming him. I won the tournament, but it doesn't feel like winning. It feels like I had to carve pieces of myself away just to stand at the end. And every time I close my eyes, I see Haru's face, or Bea crying in the greenhouse, or Theo trying so hard to be steady while I'm falling apart…"
The tears came faster now, hot against the freezing air. She didn't wipe them away. "I'm so tired, Mom. Tired of being strong. Tired of everyone waiting for me to snap and prove them right about the name. I just… I want to be normal. I want to come home and have you there. Not a headstone. Not memories that fade a little more every year. I want you to tell me it's going to be okay. That I don't have to carry all of this alone."
Her shoulders shook as a sob escaped. She pressed her forehead against the cold marble, the enchanted lantern's glow blurring through her tears.
"I miss you so much it aches. Every time something good happens, I wish you could see it. Every time something bad happens, I wish you could hold me and make it stop hurting. I'm trying so hard to be better than him, to choose mercy instead of monsters, but it's exhausting. And now I have to go to Durmstrang and pretend I'm not terrified that one day I'll wake up and realize I'm just like him. That the blood wins in the end."
Fila stayed like that for a long time, kneeling in the snow, letting the quiet tears fall. The forest around her seemed to hold its breath, the trees standing silent guard as the wind gently stirred the snow.
"I love you," she whispered finally, voice raw. "I wish you were here. I wish I could just… be your daughter for a while. Not Grindelwald's granddaughter. Not the Butcher of the Jungle. Just… me."
She grew a small cluster of winter roses at the base of the grave, soft white petals edged in faint silver, glowing faintly with her magic. They smelled like the jungle and home all at once. Then, with one last gentle touch to the stone, she stood up slowly, brushing snow from her cloak.
The cold bit deeper now, but she lingered a moment longer, staring at the quiet grave.
"I'll come back before I leave for Durmstrang," she promised softly. "Try not to get too buried out here, okay?"
With a final, shaky breath, Fila turned back toward the warm lights of the manor, the snow crunching softly under her boots.
Christmas day is a beautiful day of gifts and snow mixed together into a cozy little package.
The manor was filled with gifts and happy smiles and laughter. Evan Rosier and his children together with his wife had arrived, even when Fila said she would come to France for new years they still decided to visit the united states.
His children, Alexandre (13, the same age as Fila), his daughter Camille (12), and the youngest, little Élise (11), were currently engaged in a chaotic but elegant game of exploding snap near the massive Christmas tree in the living room. All three attended Beauxbatons, and it showed in their polished manners mixed with the playful energy only Rosier blood could produce.
Alexandre, with the sharp Rosier features and a confident grin that reminded Fila a little too much of Evan, let out a triumphant laugh as his cards exploded in a shower of harmless silver sparks. "Ha! Beat that, little sisters!"
Camille rolled her eyes dramatically but smiled, brushing dark hair from her face. "You only won because you cheated, Alex. I saw you palm that card."
Élise, the youngest, giggled and clapped her hands. "Again! Again!"
Fila sat cross-legged on the rug near the fireplace, a pile of unwrapped gifts around her. She had already received a new set of enchanted herbology gloves from Elsbeth and Rowan, a beautifully bound book on ancient runes from Vinda, and a delicate silver pendant from Evan that hummed faintly with protective magic.
"This one's from us," Evan said, tossing her a neatly wrapped box with a grin. "Don't blow it up. We spent actual time picking it out."
Fila unwrapped it carefully, revealing a sleek wand holster made of dragonhide, engraved with delicate thorn patterns.
"It's perfect," she said, running her fingers over the engravings. "Thank you. Really."
Evan waved it off, but his eyes were warm. "You've earned it. Winning that tournament at your age… even your grandfather would've been impressed. Though he probably would've suggested burning the losing schools to the ground."
Vinda shot him a sharp look from the couch. "Let's not compare her to Gellert too much today. It's Christmas."
Fila smiled faintly, clipping the new holster to her belt. The weight felt right. Solid. A reminder that she had family, complicated, sharp-edged family, who saw her as more than just the name.
Alexandre wandered over, holding up a slightly singed card from the game. "Cousin Fila! Did you really summon a giant tree monster in the jungle? Can you make one for us? Please?"
Fila laughed and ruffled his hair. "Bob's not for playing, Alex. He's very polite but also very big. He might accidentally step on the manor."
But she held out her hand and a miniature Bob formed, same looking but 20 cm tall this time.
The boy's eyes widened in awe. "That is brilliant…"
She liked the company of these three, and with Alexandre being the same year as her, she sort of felt connected. He was a bit taller which made her a bit irritated, and Camilie had this beautiful blond hair which she effortlessly managed to make perfect each day.
Evan's wife and the children's mother, Eléonore. Was a warm sole. Even her magic through Ophelias magical sight had a trouble finding anything bad about her, like a living saint.
"Ophelia, are you excited for Durmstrang?" she asked with a warm smile that could melt the coldest ice directly.
Fila nooded, "Yes I am, I just hope they don't throw me into duels on the first day."
Eléonore laughed softly, the sound warm and melodic, like a gentle breeze through the snow-covered trees outside. "Knowing Durmstrang, they might. But you've already faced far worse than a few ambitious students in heavy cloaks. You'll have them eating out of your hand or growing flowers in their pockets, within a week."
Alexandre looked up from the miniature Bob, who was currently doing a tiny, creaky victory dance on Fila's palm. "Can I come visit you there? Beauxbatons is nice, but Durmstrang sounds way more exciting. All that snow and dueling… and you could show me how to make Bob!"
Camille elbowed her brother lightly. "You just want an excuse to skip etiquette lessons. Mother would never allow it."
Élise, however, clapped her hands excitedly. "I want a tiny Bob too! He's so cute!"
Fila chuckled and made the miniature giant bow dramatically before dissolving back into a handful of glowing petals. She scattered them gently over the children's heads, earning delighted giggles from Élise and Camille.
"Maybe one day," Fila said, ruffling Alexandre's hair again. "But only if you promise not to challenge the entire school to a snowball fight on your first visit. I have a reputation to maintain."
Evan leaned back on the couch, watching the scene with a lazy, proud smile. "Careful, Ophelia. These three already have enough ideas. Last time they visited, they tried to transfigure the entire rose garden into a fortress. Took the gardeners a week to fix it."
Vinda folded her newspaper with a soft rustle, her sharp eyes softening as she looked at her granddaughter. "You will fit in like salt in water little leaf, that boy you talked about sounded nice what was his name?"
"Aleksei Kozlov." She said and took a bit of her gingerbread tasting leafes she had made.
Evan suddenly chough as he had swallowed something down the wrong shaft. "You meet with Kozlov?" he asked between coughs trying to clear his throat."
Fila looked at him then at her grandmother. "Yeah,"
Vinda just gave a short laugh, "Kozlov dear is basically royalty from Poland. His father is a very, very noble wizard."
Fila paused mid-bite of her gingerbread leaf, blinking in surprise. "Royalty? He never mentioned that. He just seemed… normal. Serious, but normal. We talked about dueling and how Durmstrang works. He was the one who told me it wasn't all bad if you could handle the pressure."
Evan recovered from his coughing fit, setting his wine glass down with a soft clink. His expression was a mix of amusement and something sharper, the kind of look he got when old family connections came up. "The Kozlovs have been influential for centuries. Old blood, old money, old grudges. They stayed neutral during your grandfather's time, but they've always had… strong opinions about power. The boy's father is practically a king in certain circles up north."
Alexandre, still holding the miniature Bob (who was now doing a tiny victory dance on his palm), looked up with wide eyes. "Is he your boyfriend, Cousin Fila?"
Camille elbowed him hard. "Alex! You can't just ask that!"
Élise giggled, covering her mouth with both hands. "Boyfriend! Boyfriend!"
Fila felt her cheeks burn under the blindfold. She quickly stuffed the rest of the gingerbread leaf in her mouth to buy time. "He's not… we're not, he's just a friend. From Durmstrang. We sat together during one of the matches and talked strategy. That's it."
Vinda's sharp eyes twinkled with quiet amusement. "A friend who happens to be the heir to one of the most powerful wizarding families in Eastern Europe. Interesting choice of company, little leaf."
Eléonore smiled warmly from her seat, her knitting needles clicking steadily. "He sounds like a good influence. Durmstrang can be… intense. Having someone steady like that might help."
Evan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Just be careful. The Kozlovs play a long game. They respect strength, but they also know how to use it. If the boy's anything like his father, he sees potential in you. The name alone opens doors… and sometimes traps. But im sure he's a nice lad."
Alexandre grinned, holding up his miniature Bob like a trophy. "If he's royalty, does that make you a princess now, Cousin Fila?"
Fila laughed and flicked a finger, making the tiny Bob bow dramatically before dissolving into petals that rained gently over the children's heads. "If I'm a princess, then you three are definitely the mischievous court jesters."
Isn't it funny how life just snaps and changes, at one point your in the jungle fighting and in the next your defending yourself from young cousins thinking your going to be married to a royalty.
To some point fila found herself enjoying this life right now, calm and peaceful together with her grandmother. But Fila wanted to have her grandfather close. And made a mental note to begin trying to persuade Albus Dumbledore to at least permit him to be at her house.
It wouldn't be easy, she would most likely have to convince the whole European wizard court about this. a big battle yes, but she would try, and she would win, hopefully.
She had already decided to go visit him on new years while in France. Even if he told her not to, or he told Vinda to tell her, but she wont listen to that. Even Vinda had thrown the idea away of trying to stop her.
Vinda's voice pulled her back to the present. "You're thinking too hard again, little leaf."
Fila turned from the window with a small smile. "Just… planning. New Year's in France. And maybe some other things."
The night had grown late by now, the others had already gone to bed. Leaving only Vinda and Ophelia.
"Elara sent me a letter, a couple of days ago." Vinda said, she turned a bit more serious now. "She told me about your little ideas that you shared with her."
Fila sighed, to big of a mouth. "Yeah, I still think about them."
Vinda looked at her granddaughter, a hint of worry and something else. "Ophelia. There are horrible people in this world. And you have sadly met some of the harshest of them, but to go after all of them…"
"Grandma, I know some of them don't have a choice, or grew up with the wrong ideas. But that doesn't change the fact that hundreds of people suffer for their idiotic beliefs, and ideologies." Fila gave, her thoughts all poured out. Her opinion about the matter had grown stronger these days as more and more events circled in newspapers all over the world.
She gestured vaguely toward the window, as if the dark forest outside held all the world's evils. "Murders, kidnappings, torture, all by the hands of dark wizards and witches. Often just for money. Or because someone wasn't 'pure' enough. I read the papers, Grandmother. Every week there's another story. Another family destroyed. Another child left orphaned because some lunatic decided their bloodline made them better."
Fila's hands clenched at her sides, the faint glow of magic flickering around her fingers before she forced it down. "I'm not saying I want to hunt them all tomorrow. But… why should they get to keep walking around? Why should they get to live after they've taken so much from others? My grandfather thought he was saving wizardkind. He hurt so many people. And now I carry his name like a curse. Sometimes I wonder if the only way to end the cycle is to cut it out completely."
Vinda was quiet for a long moment, the fire crackling softly between them. When she finally spoke, her voice was gentle but firm.
"Cutting out the rot is tempting, my dear. I won't lie and say I haven't thought the same on my worst nights. But once you start… it's very hard to stop. You become the blade instead of the healer. Your mother, my daughter, she chose a different path. She wanted to protect without becoming the monster she fought. She believed in mercy, even when it cost her everything."
Fila looked down at the floor, tears pricking at her eyes again. "And look where that got her." The words suddenly caught up to her, and disgust over herself followed like a sickening stench.
"I didn't mean—" Her voice broke. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Grandma."
Vinda's hand tightened on her shoulder, steady and warm. The older witch pulled her gently into a hug, one arm wrapping around Fila's back as if she were still a small child who had scraped her knee.
"I know your pain Ophelia. You out of anyone, I understand this pain you carry with each day." Vinda cupped the girls face and wiped the tears from her cheeks. "But don't let them change you, and turn you into something you, or even your mother would want."
A big lump of nothing formed in Fila's throat. Thinking back at her mother in the days before her death, her sick coughs that scratched Ophelias heart.
Fila didn't say anything while being held by her grandmother.
Words weren't needed at this point, only what she would do with her thoughts and what actions she sought to take.