Where Roses Bloom

by latenightlovestory

Summary:

Former Auror Charlotte Frost never imagined herself as a professor, but when Hogwarts calls, she trades dark wizard hunts for teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. What she doesn’t expect is Mirabel Garlick, the charming Herbology professor whose warmth and quiet strength begin to unravel Charlotte’s guarded heart.

As Charlotte mentors the gifted but secretive Fay Fairfax, she stumbles into a deeper mystery—one involving ancient magic, a hidden repository, and a goblin rebellion led by the ruthless Ranrok. With Hogwarts under threat and dark forces rising, Charlotte finds her attention caught between investigating the threat and the woman she’s falling for.

Between stolen glances in the greenhouse, late-night duels, and whispered confessions, Charlotte and Mirabel’s love blooms amidst the chaos. But with danger at every turn, Charlotte must decide: Can she truly leave her Auror past behind, or will duty always come first?
--
Original Hogwarts Professor Character/Mirabel Garlick | Set During Hogwarts Legacy with Original Female Protagonist, Fay Fairfax | wlw | First Person POV

Chapter 1: Across the Pond

The castle was alive with whispers of enchantment and history, its ancient stones radiating a magic all their own. As I crossed the threshold of Hogwarts for the first time, a sense of wonder mingled with trepidation stirred within me. The air smelled of parchment, candle wax, and the faintest trace of something floral—perhaps a distant memory of herbology lessons past. I adjusted the Horned Serpent pin on my lapel, a habit I’d developed when nerves threatened to get the better of me. Today was no ordinary day; today, I was flirting with the idea of uprooting my entire life.

Auror Hecat had asked me to observe her Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Her classroom, perched in one of the castle’s many towering spires, was a maze of bookshelves, practice dummies, and enchanted artifacts. The students—a mix of eager faces and reluctant participants—filed in, their chatter blending with the occasional crackle of magical energy in the air. Among them was Fay Fairfax, the new fifth-year with a mysterious aura that seemed to ripple through the room like an unspoken challenge. She locked eyes with Sebastian Sallow, a Slytherin who practically oozed confidence, and I could see the duel brewing between them before they even drew their wands.

“Auror Frost, a pleasure to have you,” Hecat greeted me, her sharp tone softened by the slightest quirk of a smile. “Take a seat wherever you like. This lot—” she gestured to the students, who were now arranging themselves into pairs for dueling practice, “will give you plenty to think about.”

As I moved to my corner, the students’ eyes lingered on me. A hand shot up from a Hufflepuff in the back.

“Excuse me, Auror Frost,” the girl began tentatively, “Is it true you’re from America?”

“That’s right,” I replied, already sensing the flood of curiosity about to follow that was encouraged once they heard my accent.

“What’s Ilvermorny like?” a Gryffindor boy asked, leaning forward eagerly.

“And what’s it like being an Auror in the United States?” added another student, this one from Ravenclaw. “Do you fight dark wizards all the time?”

Their questions tumbled over one another, a flurry of excitement.

“Enough, enough,” Hecat cut in, though her amusement was evident. “Auror Frost isn’t here to tell you tales of her exploits. Let’s see if your wands are as sharp as your tongues. Pair up!”

I caught her eye and smiled, silently thanking her for the reprieve. Being an Auror was respected and was an end goal to many, but I faced so much death, and their questions, though innocent, could pick at a scab. The students reluctantly turned their focus back to the lesson, though I could still feel their curiosity buzzing in the air. As the duels began, I kept a close watch. Fay moved with precision, her wand work sharp and deliberate as she easily disarmed Sebastian. He fell back, sputtering excuses, but there was no malice in her victory. She reminded me of myself at her age—determined, skilled, and perhaps a touch too solitary for her own good.

“Sallow,” I called out, stepping closer. “You have the skill, but you’re too predictable. Fay knew you were going for her wand arm because you telegraphed it with your stance. Mix it up, keep your opponent guessing.”

Sebastian nodded, his initial embarrassment fading as he processed my advice. “Thank you, Auror Frost. I’ll try that.”

Hecat’s eyebrows rose slightly, and she nodded approvingly. “Not bad, Frost. I daresay you’ve got a knack for this.”

Her words lingered with me long after the lesson ended. I wandered the castle grounds, my thoughts a tempest of uncertainty and longing. Taking on a teaching position at Hogwarts would be a far cry from the fast-paced, life-or-death work of an Auror. Yet, there was something about this place, its rhythms and routines, that called to me.

It was during this reflective stroll that I found myself near the greenhouses. The warm glow of lamplight spilled out from within, casting a soft radiance over the frosted glass panes. Inside, a figure moved gracefully among the rows of magical plants. Her red hair, braided into ponytails, seemed to catch the light like embers.

Professor Mirabel Garlick.

I’d met her briefly earlier in the day when Hecat had introduced us. She’d been flustered, her cheeks tinged pink as she stumbled over her words. At the time, I’d attributed it to nerves. Now, watching her work, I saw the quiet confidence that radiated from her as she tended to her beloved plants.

“Good evening, Professor Garlick,” I called out, stepping inside. The scent of earthy soil and blooming roses wrapped around me like a comforting embrace.

She looked up, startled, but her expression quickly softened into a warm smile. “Oh, Auror Frost! Please, call me Mirabel. I wasn’t expecting company.”

“Call me Charlotte then, Mirabel. I hope I’m not intruding,” I said, taking in the vibrant array of flora. “Your greenhouse is… remarkable.”

“Thank you,” she replied, her voice as soft and melodic as a lullaby. “These plants are my roses, my pride and joy. Each one has its own story, its own needs.”

“Much like students,” I observed, earning a laugh from her. It was a bright, musical sound that seemed to chase away the shadows of doubt lingering in my mind.

“Exactly,” she agreed. “Though I daresay some of these roses, even the Chinese Chomping Cabbages, are easier to manage than the students.”

“I can imagine,” I said with a chuckle. “I noticed your students seem to adore you, though. They speak of you with such fondness.”

Her cheeks colored faintly, and she looked down at the plant she was tending. “That’s kind of you to say. But what about you, Auror Frost? What brings you to Hogwarts?”

I hesitated, caught off guard by her directness. “I needed a change. Being an Auror is… fulfilling, but it takes a toll. It is hard to see anything but the worst in humanity. My mentor knew Hecat and begged me to at least toy with the idea of teaching at Hogwarts. I suppose I’m here to see if teaching might offer something different, something lighter.”

“Lighter, but no less important,” she said, her tone thoughtful. She knew not to press on the subject for now and plucked something lighter, “Ilvermorny must be very different from Hogwarts. What was it like?”

I smiled, warmed by her curiosity. “It’s a beautiful place, perched high on Mount Greylock. The houses are different, of course. I was a Horned Serpent—we value knowledge and the mind, so probably most like your Ravenclaw. But I almost ended up in Thunderbird, your Slytherin. I was one of the few chosen by two houses, and got to make my own choice.”

Her eyes flickered shocked that is something that could happen. “What do you mean, chosen by two? Do you not have a Sorting Hat?”

“Nope,” I chuckled. “We have a Gordian Knot on the floor in the center of the entrance hall, with large wooden statues of the mascots of the four houses facing it. The carved statues would react if they wanted the student in their house. The carvings reacted in different ways: the crystal in the Horned Serpent carving's forehead glowed, the Wampus carving roared, the Thunderbird carving beat its wings, and the Pukwudgie carving raised its arrow. I was one of the few that caused two reactions.”

“Wow,” her eyes widened. “Horned Serpent suits you,” she said softly. “You seem thoughtful, analytical.” Her cheeks flushed, but it could have been a trick of the light. She switched topics, “And America? What’s it like being an Auror there?”

I told her about my work, the challenges and dangers, and the reasons I’d grown weary of it without getting into the details. She listened intently, her green eyes fixed on mine, and I found myself speaking more than I intended, but it was easy with her. In turn, she told me about her own journey, her love for Herbology, and the struggles she’d faced finding her place in the wizarding world being from a family of Muggles.

As the evening wore on, she walked me to the castle gates, the crisp night air filled with the scent of lavender. “Will I see you again?” she asked, her tone hopeful yet hesitant.

“I’ll be observing for the week,” I replied, suddenly aware of how close we were standing. “Perhaps we could meet for lunch tomorrow?”

Her smile widened, and for a moment, I thought I saw a hint of a blush. “I’d like that.”

As I made my way back to the castle, my heart felt lighter than it had in years. Perhaps Barnaby had been right. Perhaps this was exactly what I needed. And perhaps, in this ancient castle where history and magic intertwined, there was a place where my own story could begin to bloom.

Chapter 2: Professor Frost

“Auror Frost, would you care to lead today’s lesson?” Professor Hecat’s voice carried across the classroom like a spell, firm yet playful. Without waiting for my answer, she tossed me a parchment containing the day’s lesson plan. I caught it mid-air, blinking in surprise.

“Oh, sure,” I said, scanning the hastily scrawled notes. “Combos, counters, and quick thinking, huh? No pressure.”

Hecat chuckled, leaning back against her desk as the students shuffled in, their curiosity piqued.

The classroom brimmed with anticipation. Fay Fairfax sat near the front, her sharp eyes gleaming, while Sebastian Sallow lounged at the back, already wearing a skeptical smirk.

“Alright, everyone, wands out,” I began, slipping into the commanding tone I’d honed as an Auror. “Today, we’re focusing on combinations—stringing spells together effectively to keep your opponent off balance. Think of it like a dance. Timing and precision are key.”

A Ravenclaw raised her hand. “But how do you know what spells to use?”

“Great question,” I replied. “It depends on the situation. Sometimes you’ll need to disarm and dodge; other times, you’ll want to go on the offensive. Let’s start with a simple sequence: Expelliarmus, Stupefy, and Protego.”

I demonstrated the trio of spells in quick succession, my wand movements sharp and deliberate. The students murmured among themselves as I reset.

“Sebastian,” I called, nodding toward him. “Want to give it a go?”

He rose with exaggerated confidence and strode to the front. His execution wasn’t bad, but his timing was off. I corrected his stance and encouraged him to try again. This time, it was smoother.

“Not bad, Sallow,” I said. “Now, let’s add some variety. Anyone know what spell might counter Stupefy?”

A few hands went up, and I called on Natsai Onai, who answered correctly: “Protego.”

“Exactly. But what if Protego isn’t enough?” I prompted. “This is where combinations shine. Think two steps ahead. That’s how you survive.”

Sebastian crossed his arms. “I still don’t see how these spells would hold up against real Dark Arts.”

I smiled. “Funny you should mention that. Let me tell you a story.”

The room fell silent as I paced.

“A few years ago, I was tracking a dark wizard in New Orleans. He’d been terrorizing a No-Maj community, leaving curses in his wake. When I finally cornered him, he cast a Killing Curse. Now, there’s no blocking Avada Kedavra… but there are ways to survive it.”

The students leaned forward, hanging on my every word.

“I cast Depulso at the ground just as he fired. The force launched me sideways, the curse missing by inches. While he recalibrated, I stunned him with a well-placed Stupefy, followed by Incarcerous to bind him. Timing, creativity, and staying calm under pressure saved my life that day.”

Fay’s eyes widened. “You disarmed a wizard mid-Killing Curse?”

“Adapt or perish,” I said with a wink. “Now, let’s have some fun. Someone try to touch me.”

The class buzzed with excitement as they lined up to take turns. One by one, they launched spells at me, and one by one, I deflected, dodged, and countered. Even Sebastian, with his growing determination, couldn’t land a hit. Professor Hecat stood at the back, her arms crossed and a wide grin on her face.

Unbeknownst to me, Mirabel Garlick had quietly entered and stood near the doorway, watching with rapt attention. It was the class before lunch, and apparently, my impromptu duel had drawn her interest.

When the last student yielded, breathless and laughing, I addressed the group. “Now that you’ve seen me in action, your homework is to pair with a partner and practice counters. We’ll test your progress next lesson.”

As the students gathered their things, Hecat approached, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “Well done, Frost. You’ve got a knack for this.”

“Thanks,” I said, my adrenaline still high.

She lowered her voice. “I’ve spoken to the Headmaster. The Defense Against the Dark Arts position is yours as soon as you’re ready.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Already? This early in the semester?”

“The semester just started,” she replied. “The kids already know you, and you’ve proven yourself. It’ll be an easy transition.”

I glanced toward the doorway, where Mirabel lingered, waiting patiently. I took a deep breath and nodded. “I’m in.”

Hecat smiled. “Good. Welcome to Hogwarts, Professor Frost.”

As Hecat left, I walked over to Mirabel. She shifted nervously, her hands clasped in front of her.

“Would you be open to getting out of the castle for lunch?” she asked, her voice tinged with both hope and anxiety.

A grin spread across my face. “Absolutely. I’d love to explore—especially with good company.”

Her relief was evident, and together we stepped out into the crisp air.

Hogsmeade was even more enchanting than I had imagined. The cobblestone streets twisted and turned past quaint shops, each brimming with magical wares and the hum of bustling witches and wizards. The September air carried a crispness, the promise of autumn mingling with the scents of fresh pastries and parchment. The sun hung low, casting a golden glow on the thatched rooftops, while witches and wizards hurried about, their laughter mingling with the rustle of falling leaves.

Mirabel walked beside me, her cheeks flushed from the cool breeze and her voice warm as she spoke. “You’re going to love Honeydukes. It was always my favorite stop as a student. I once tried sneaking out an entire jar of Fizzing Whizzbees… let’s just say, it didn’t end well.”

I raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Professor Garlick, breaking the rules? Now that’s a story I need to hear.”

She laughed, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Oh, I got detention for a week. But it was worth it. The Whizzbees were delicious.”

We stepped into the shop, and I was immediately struck by the kaleidoscope of colors and scents. Shelves groaned under the weight of jars filled with Every-Flavour Beans, rows of Chocolate Frogs leaped in their boxes, and glittering sugar quills sparkled under the warm light. Mirabel handed me a small bag of treats, our fingers brushing briefly. My pulse quickened, though I told myself it was just the excitement of the moment.

After Honeydukes, she led me to Scrivenshaft’s Quill Shop. “This place is brilliant,” she said. “I’d spend hours here as a student, pretending to shop while actually avoiding Herbology assignments. Funny, isn’t it?”

“Avoiding Herbology?” I teased. “The irony is astounding.”

She grinned, and for a moment, I caught a glimpse of the younger Mirabel she must have been—bright-eyed and mischievous. “Don’t tell the students. I have a reputation to uphold.”

As we wandered through the streets, she shared more stories—her favorite hiding spots, pranks played on professors, and her rivalry with the Slytherins during Quidditch season. Her laughter was infectious, and I found myself smiling more than I had in weeks.

“Mirabel,” I said as we paused outside a small shop selling enchanted trinkets. “I’ve made my decision.”

She turned to me, her eyes wide with anticipation. “And?”

“I’m staying,” I said simply. “I took the professor position.”

Her face lit up, her smile radiant. “That’s wonderful! We have to celebrate. Come on—to the Three Broomsticks!”

The pub’s wooden beams glowed warmly, adorned with early autumn garlands. The chatter of patrons and the clinking of glasses filled the air. Mirabel led me to the bar, where a tall, confident woman with keen eyes and a knowing smile greeted us.

“Sirona,” Mirabel said, her voice bright. “This is Charlotte Frost, Hogwarts’ newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.”

Sirona’s gaze shifted to me, sharp and appraising. “Auror Frost, welcome. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” I said, offering a hand.

Sirona’s smile widened as she shook it. “Mostly.”

We settled at a corner table, and I scanned the menu. “Butterbeer? You’re telling me you serve kids this stuff?”

Mirabel laughed. “Just try it.”

Reluctantly, I took a sip. The drink was sweet, with a hint of spice. I was about to comment when Mirabel leaned forward, brushing a finger across my lip to wipe away foam. The touch was fleeting but electrifying, leaving me momentarily speechless. Sirona watched from the bar, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she busied herself with mugs, clearly delighted by her friend’s flustered state.

Before I could say anything, a deafening crash echoed from outside.

I shot to my feet, wand already in hand. “Stay here,” I said, though Mirabel was already following me.

Fay Fairfax and Natsai Onai were battling a troll in the middle of the street, their spells lighting up the area. Mirabel gasped beside me. “Trolls in Hogsmeade? This shouldn’t be possible.”

“Apparently, it is,” I muttered, sprinting forward. Fay’s wand flashed with a spell I didn’t recognize—a swirling, complex magic that left the first troll staggering. By the time I reached them, the beast collapsed in a heap.

The second troll roared, turning toward us. Ruth Singer, the local officer, had just arrived and cast a Stunning Spell that barely fazed it.

“Distract it!” I shouted, circling to its flank. Ruth launched a flurry of hexes, drawing its attention while I aimed for the joints in its massive legs. With a precise Confringo, the troll stumbled but didn’t fall. It swung wildly, nearly catching me with a clawed hand. I ducked, rolling to the side, and sent a powerful Expulso at its chest. The blast sent it crashing into a building wall. With a final flick of my wand, I cast Incarcerous, binding it with enchanted ropes. The creature thrashed but finally went still.

Ruth exhaled sharply. “Impressive work, Auror Frost.”

“Team effort,” I replied, catching my breath. “What’s going on here?”

“That’s what I’d like to know,” she said grimly. She turned to Fay and Natsai, who were visibly shaken. “Are you two all right?”

Mirabel knelt beside them, her voice soft and soothing. “You’re safe now. You did well.”

Back inside the Three Broomsticks, the warmth felt almost stifling after the chaos outside. I leaned closer to Mirabel. “What’s going on here? Trolls don’t just show up in villages.”

Mirabel frowned. “All I know is what’s been in the papers—something about a goblin rebellion and the Rookwood gang causing trouble.”

“Rookwood?” I asked, my interest piqued.

“A criminal group,” she explained. “Smuggling, dark magic, you name it. They’ve been more active lately, but no one knows why.”

Before I could press further, the door slammed open. A man with a sinister presence strode in, his eyes locking on Fay. “I need to speak with her,” he demanded.

Sirona immediately stepped between them. “No, you don’t. My friend here is enjoying a well-deserved butterbeer.”

Mirabel’s hand found my arm. “That’s him,” she whispered. “That’s Rookwood.”

I didn’t hesitate. Standing, I approached with deliberate calm. “Is there a problem?”

Rookwood’s eyes narrowed as he raised his hands in mock surrender. “Not at all. I see I’m not welcome. Another time.”

As he left, Fay exhaled shakily. “Thank you,” she murmured.

I nodded but couldn’t shake my curiosity. “Why is he after you?”

“I don’t know,” Fay said, her voice trembling.

I decided to leave it for now. Turning back to Mirabel, I extended my arm. “Do you want to get out of here?”

Her cheeks colored as she slipped her hand into the crook of my elbow. “I’m so sorry this is what happened on your first trip to Hogsmeade.”

“It certainly wasn’t dull,” I said with a wry smile. Together, we stepped back into the streets, leaving the chaos behind but with plenty of questions lingering in my mind.

Chapter 3: Settling In

It had been a month since I started my tenure as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts. My mornings had settled into a routine of lectures, demonstrations, and watching students’ eager attempts to master their spells. The sun had barely crested the castle’s spires when a knock sounded at my door just as I finished tidying my desk.

When I opened it, Mirabel stood there, smiling warmly, holding out a steaming cup of coffee. “Thought you could use this,” she said. Her hair was braided neatly, her green dress adorned with floral embroidery that matched her vibrant personality.

I accepted the cup with a smile. “You’re a lifesaver, Professor Garlick.”

“How are you feeling about your first meeting with Headmaster Black?” she asked, her tone light, though her eyes betrayed genuine curiosity.

I took a sip of the coffee, savoring its warmth before answering. “Not concerned. I’ve dealt with worse.”

Mirabel’s lips quirked. “He always scared me.”

“I’ll protect you next time,” I said without thinking.

Her blush was immediate, the pink tinge spreading across her cheeks. “That… that won’t be necessary,” she stammered, though her smile lingered.

Later that afternoon, I met Headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black in his office, a room as austere and commanding as the man himself. His dark robes were immaculate, his gaze sharp and calculating as he appraised me from behind his grand desk.

“Professor Frost,” he began, his tone clipped. “Let me be clear: I have high expectations for my staff. While your credentials are impressive, Hogwarts demands excellence, not theatrics.”

I met his gaze evenly. “Of course, Headmaster. I’ve ensured my syllabus meets your standards, and my students’ progress reports are already ahead of schedule.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised but unwilling to show it fully. “Good. See that it continues. Now, there is another matter. Professor Fig has been… preoccupied. His behavior is becoming erratic. I need you to keep an eye on him. Discreetly, of course.”

I nodded. “I’ll observe, but my priority is the safety of the students.”

His lips twitched as if considering a retort, but he merely inclined his head. “See that it is.”

As I left the office, I nearly collided with Professor Weasley. She greeted me warmly, her smile genuine. “Charlotte! I’m glad to see you settling in so well. It can be difficult for new professors, especially since we don’t have many joining us.”

“Thank you, Professor Weasley. Your support means a lot,” I replied.

She glanced over her shoulder, her tone turning conspiratorial. “I hear you and Professor Garlick have become fast friends. It’s good to have someone to share the adjustment with.”

I smiled but said nothing, the warmth of her observation lingering as I wrapped a scarf around my neck and headed toward my apartment off-campus. The chill in the air was bracing, but before I reached the gate, a gentle hand rested on my back. I turned to find Mirabel beside me.

“Care to walk together?” she asked, her voice soft.

Without a word, I took her bag from her shoulder. “Let’s go.”

We walked side by side, the quiet hum of the village around us. I glanced at her several times, wondering if I was monopolizing her time. “Mirabel, if I’m keeping you from anything…”

She shook her head quickly. “If anything, I worry I’m suffocating you. I know I’m always around.”

I stopped walking, turning to face her. “Spending time with you is my favorite part of the day.”

Her eyes widened, and for a moment, I thought I’d gone too far. But then, her cheeks redded and she smiled, her gaze dropping to the ground. We continued in companionable silence until we reached her door.

“Well, this is you,” I said, hesitating.

“Care to have dinner?” she asked suddenly.

“I don’t wish to impose,” I offered her the bag I carried.

She took the bag graciously, “It’s not imposing if I’m asking.”

I grinned. “In that case, I’d love to.”

Mirabel’s apartment was as inviting as she was. The walls were adorned with botanical prints, shelves filled with books and small potted plants. The kitchen was cozy, its counters cluttered with jars of herbs and spices.

As we prepared dinner together, she rummaged through a cabinet, muttering about a missing spice. I spotted it on a higher shelf and stepped behind her, resting a hand lightly on her hip as I reached over her shoulder. The air between us shifted, and for a moment, neither of us moved.

“Here,” I said softly, handing her the jar.

She turned, her blush deepening, and we both chuckled nervously as we stepped apart.

Dinner was simple but delicious. We talked about our students and shared stories about the triumphs and challenges of teaching. As the conversation lulled, my gaze fell on a book on her side table. Its cover was adorned with a swooning witch and a dashing wizard. The title read, Bewitched by His Emerald Eyes.

“Is this any good?” I asked, smirking.

Mirabel’s eyes widened in alarm. “Oh, it’s… it’s just something to pass the time.”

“Mmm-hmm,” I teased, earning a nervous laugh from her. “Did you ever have any romances at Hogwarts?”

She hesitated. “Not really. What about you?”

Thinking she might open up if I did, I admitted, “I haven’t dated since becoming an Auror. There was one girl at Ilvermorny, but she panicked about her parents finding out she was with a woman and ran off with my ex-best friend Daniel instead.”

Mirabel winced. “I’m sorry. That must have been awful.”

“It was,” I said. “But I moved on.”

She shifted in her seat. “Something similar happened to me. The girl I liked at Hogwarts ran off with my best friend. Hogwarts is less… homophobic, but it still stung.”

For a moment, the world seemed to still. Her words were a quiet revelation, and I realized the spark I felt might not be one-sided. My heart quickened, both exhilarated and terrified by the possibility.

“I haven’t dated in a while,” Mirabel admitted, stirring her tea thoughtfully. “Sirona tries to set me up, but it’s always with people who eventually want to leave the area. That… isn’t ideal for someone who sees herself being at Hogwarts for a long time.”

“You’re that dedicated to the school?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“Hogwarts has been my home since I was a student,” she said with a fond smile. “I can’t imagine doing anything else.”

“Your enthusiasm is the main reason Hogwarts is starting to feel like home for me,” I confessed, surprising even myself.

Her eyes softened, and she looked down at her cup, a faint blush on her cheeks. We finished the dishes together, and as I rolled up my sleeves, Mirabel’s gaze fell on a long scar running across my forearm.

“What happened?” she asked gently.

I swallowed hard, the memory rushing back. “It was a mission. We were tracking a dark wizard in New York. My partner, Thomas, and I cornered him in an alley. He… he got the upper hand, and Thomas didn’t make it. I managed to take him down, but not before this.” I gestured to the scar.

Her hand rested lightly on my arm. “I’m sorry. That must have been terrible.”

I nodded, the weight of her sympathy both comforting and overwhelming. “He deserved better. Deserved to live. The horrors…it stays with you. But you learn to keep going.”

She hesitated before speaking. “It’s Friday… care to stay a bit longer? Professor Onai told me there will be a lot of constellations visible tonight.”

I couldn’t say no to her. “Sure.”

We laid a blanket out on a nearby hill, the stars glittering like diamonds against the inky sky. Mirabel’s head eventually rested on my shoulder, and my heart warmed at the closeness. I couldn’t help but wrap my arm around her. For the first time in a long while, the world felt at peace.

Chapter 4: Bonds and Beasts

The morning sun streamed through the tall, arched windows of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, casting shifting patterns on the stone floor. I stood at the front of the room, watching my students prepare for a practical lesson. Wands at the ready, their expressions ranged from eager to nervous. Today’s focus was teamwork—combining spells to overcome challenges together.

“Right,” I began, clapping my hands. “Pair up and find your rhythm. Spell combinations require timing and trust, so make sure you’re communicating. Start with a basic Disarming and Stunning sequence, then build from there. Off you go.”

The room filled with the hum of incantations and the crackle of magical energy. Fay Fairfax, usually confident, hesitated as her partner, Natsai Onai, cast the first spell in their sequence. Fay’s wand faltered mid-motion, and the spell fizzled out. Her frustration was evident, her shoulders tense as she muttered under her breath.

I walked over, lowering my voice to avoid drawing attention. “Fay, can I have a word?”

She nodded, following me to a quieter corner of the room. Her wand dangled loosely in her hand, and she avoided my gaze.

“What’s going on?” I asked gently.

Fay’s lips pressed into a thin line before she sighed. “It’s just… everything feels like so much right now. Balancing school, trying to help Professor Fig with… you know, everything. I’m worried I’m going to mess up when it matters most.”

Her honesty caught me off guard, but I admired her courage. “Fay, the fact that you’re worrying shows how much you care. That’s not a weakness. It means you’re paying attention, and that’s half the battle. Take it one step at a time. You’re stronger than you think.”

Her eyes met mine, a flicker of determination returning. “Thank you, Professor. I’ll try.”

“I know you will,” I said with a smile. “Now, let’s see that Disarming spell again.”

As the lesson wrapped up, I couldn’t help but notice how much Fay and Professor Fig had been spending time together, often slipping away into quiet corners of the castle. I wondered what was going on, but I knew better than to pry. Fay was my student, and maintaining professionalism was important. Whatever she was involved in, I hoped she knew she could come to me if she needed help.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of class, the students filed out, buzzing with excitement. Poppy Sweeting lingered by the door, her expression unusually shy. “Professor Frost? Would you… like to meet someone?”

“Someone?” I asked, intrigued.

She nodded, her usual confidence returning. “Come on. You’ll see.”

Poppy led me to the paddock near the edge of the Forbidden Forest, where a majestic hippogriff stood. Its silver feathers shimmered in the sunlight, and its intelligent eyes regarded me with curiosity.

“This is Highwing,” Poppy said proudly. “He’s taken a liking to me, but he’s very particular about people.”

I approached slowly, bowing low as I’d been taught in my training. Highwing studied me for a moment before inclining his head. I straightened, a smile tugging at my lips as I reached out to stroke his sleek neck.

“You’ve made a new friend,” Poppy said with a grin.

Highwing nuzzled my shoulder, and I chuckled. “Seems like it. You’ve done an incredible job with him, Poppy. You should be proud.”

Her expression softened. “Thank you. I’ve always loved creatures. They’re just… better than most people, you know?”

I nodded, understanding more than she realized. “They are. And you have a gift, Poppy. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Just as I turned to leave, another hippogriff emerged from the nearby woods. This one was a deep chestnut brown with flecks of white on its wings. It trotted toward us, its movements confident and deliberate.

“Who’s this guy?” I asked, glancing at Poppy.

She shook her head, just as bewildered. “I… I have no idea. He’s not one of ours.”

The new hippogriff stopped in front of me, bowing low. I returned the gesture, and when I straightened, he stepped closer, his eyes locking onto mine. It felt oddly like fate.

“Looks like you’ve made another friend,” Poppy said with a laugh.

Later that day, as I walked back to my apartment, Highwing’s new companion followed me. Mirabel appeared from the greenhouse, her eyebrows rising in surprise. “Charlotte, who’s your new friend?”

“No idea,” I admitted. “He just… decided I’m his person.”

Mirabel smiled, stepping closer to study the hippogriff. “He needs a name.”

I shrugged. “Got any ideas?”

Mirabel tilted her head thoughtfully. “How about… Sage?”

The hippogriff cooed softly, as if in approval.

“Sage it is,” I said with a grin. “Though I’ll need to figure out where to keep him. My apartment isn’t exactly spacious.”

“There’s some space in the greenhouse attached to mine,” Mirabel offered. “It’d make a good nest.”

I hesitated. “That would be nice, but don’t feel like you have to.”

“It’s another reason to see you,” she said softly, her eyes meeting mine. The air between us seemed to shift, charged with unspoken emotions. We leaned closer, the world narrowing to just us.

But before anything could happen, Sage let out a loud, amused coo, breaking the moment.

Mirabel blushed, laughing nervously. “Your timing is impeccable.”

“He’s got good instincts,” I replied, my heart still racing.

As we continued walking, Mirabel glanced at me, her expression uncertain. “Charlotte, do you know someone named Cordelia Featherstone?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “No, should I?”

“Sirona mentioned her,” Mirabel said, her voice faltering slightly. “She… she’s trying to set me up on a date with her.”

The words hit like a jolt. My usual confidence wavered. “Oh. That… sounds nice,” I said awkwardly, unsure how to respond. “Are you interested?”

Mirabel looked away, her cheeks pink. “I… I’m not sure. It’s hard to think about someone else when…” She trailed off, glancing at me quickly before changing the subject. “Anyway, Sage seems happy with his name.”

Her words lingered in my mind as we walked in silence. The idea of Mirabel with someone else shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. We weren’t together, and maybe I’d misread the moments we’d shared—the lingering glances, the softness in her voice. Perhaps it was all wishful thinking on my part, an illusion of chemistry where there was none.

When we reached the greenhouse, Mirabel turned to me with a faint smile. “Thank you for walking me back. And for… everything today.”

“Anytime,” I said, forcing a smile. My tone was noticeably colder. 

To cheer me up, Sage had taken to following me everywhere. Whether I was walking to the Great Hall for breakfast, overseeing practical lessons, or heading back to my apartment in the evening, the chestnut hippogriff was a constant, steady presence. At first, I tried convincing him to stay near the greenhouse where Mirabel had offered him space. But Sage had other ideas. He’d coo softly, nudge my shoulder with his beak, and stare at me with those knowing, golden eyes until I relented.

I had to admit, having him around was comforting. There was something about his quiet loyalty that settled me in a way I hadn’t expected.

One crisp late-fall morning, I found myself brushing Sage’s feathers in the field behind my apartment. He leaned into the strokes, his eyes half-lidded in contentment.

“You’re spoiled,” I muttered, though my tone held no bite.

Sage cooed in response, and I laughed softly. As I worked, my mind wandered to the increasingly troubling signs around the castle and the nearby villages. Rookwood’s name had come up too many times, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something bigger was at play. My Auror instincts were stirring again, though I wasn’t sure if I welcomed them or resented their intrusion into my new life.

Later that day, during my office hours, Poppy Sweeting rushed in, her face pale but determined. She closed the door behind her quickly, her hands clutching her satchel.

“Professor Frost,” she said, her voice shaky. “I need to tell you something important.”

“Poppy, what is it?” I asked, setting my quill down and gesturing for her to sit.

She hesitated, then blurted, “Fay and I stopped a dragon-fighting ring.”

The words hung in the air for a moment before I stood, my heart pounding. “You what? ”

“We found out about it through some… connections,” she admitted, avoiding my gaze. “It was horrible, Professor. They were torturing dragons for sport. We couldn’t just do nothing.”

Alarmed, I leaned forward. “Poppy, that’s incredibly dangerous. Who was involved?”

She took a deep breath. “Poachers. And there were others… men who matched the descriptions of Rookwood’s gang.”

I felt a chill run down my spine. “Did anyone recognize you or Fay?”

“No,” she said quickly. “We were careful. But… Professor, I don’t think it’s over. They’ll just set up somewhere else.”

I nodded, already reaching for parchment and a quill. “You were brave, Poppy, but this is dangerous. Leave the rest to me. And Poppy?”

“Yes, Professor?”

“Stay away from anything like this in the future. Promise me.”

She hesitated but finally nodded. “I promise.”

As she left, I sat back and began writing notes, trying to piece together what I knew about Rookwood’s movements. Fay was in the middle of something bigger than I’d realized, and I couldn’t ignore it any longer. Though I was no longer an Auror, the instinct to protect—my students, this world—burned stronger than ever.

The next day, as I strolled through Hogsmeade, I noticed a shifty-looking man cornering a young student near Honeydukes. The boy looked terrified, clutching his bag tightly as the man loomed over him.

“What do you know about her?” the man growled. “That Fairfax girl. Where does she go?”

My blood ran cold. Before I could think, I stepped forward, my wand already drawn. “Is there a problem here?”

The man turned, his eyes narrowing as he sized me up. “Stay out of this, American.”

“That’s not going to happen,” I said, my voice cold. “Leave the boy alone. Now.”

He smirked, but it faltered when I stepped closer, the tip of my wand sparking with energy. With a low growl, he backed off, disappearing into the crowd. I knelt beside the boy, who was trembling. Likely a third year.

“Are you all right?” I asked gently.

He nodded, tears brimming in his eyes. “Thank you, Professor Frost.”

“You’re safe now. Go straight back to the castle,” I said, watching as he ran off before turning my attention to the direction the man had gone.

That evening, I mounted Sage again, the tension from the day pressing heavily on my shoulders. The sky was a deep indigo as we soared over the village, my eyes scanning the streets below for any sign of the man. Sage’s powerful wings carried us effortlessly, his movements steady and reassuring.

As we circled back toward the castle, I noticed a figure standing in the greenhouse garden. Mirabel. Her hair caught the moonlight as she looked up, spotting us in the sky. Even from the distance, I could see her smile.

I guided Sage to land near her, dismounting as she approached. “You’re becoming quite the spectacle,” she teased, her eyes sparkling.

“Occupational hazard,” I replied, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “What brings you out here?”

“I thought I’d check in,” she said softly. “You looked… troubled earlier.”

I hesitated, glancing at Sage before meeting her gaze. “Mirabel, can I ask you something?”

She tilted her head. “Of course.”

I felt brave. Likely adrenaline. “Did you go on the date?”

Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away briefly before answering. “No. I didn’t.”

“Why not?” I pressed, trying to keep my voice steady.

Her gaze flicked back to mine, uncertainty swimming in her green eyes. “I didn’t want to presume anything,” she said softly. “About us, but going felt wrong.”

Her words hit me like a spell, and I felt my breath catch. The tension that had been building between us for weeks seemed to crystallize in that moment. I took a step closer, my voice quieter now. “What are we, Mirabel?”

Her lips parted as if to answer, but no words came. Instead, she reached up hesitantly, her fingers brushing against my cheek.

“The choice is in your hands,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside me. “But if you want me, us…I need you to kiss me.”

For a heartbeat, she stayed frozen, her breath catching audibly. Then, she melted into the space between us, her hand sliding to the back of my neck as her lips met mine. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, like the first bloom of a flower reaching toward the sun. But then it deepened, a warmth spreading through me that felt like magic in its purest form.

The world around us fell away, leaving only the soft rustle of Sage’s wings and the quiet thrum of my heart. When we finally parted, her forehead rested against mine, her breath mingling with mine as she whispered, “Charlotte…”

“I’m here,” I replied, my own voice unsteady but resolute. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Chapter 5: Undercover

The corridors of Hogwarts had been buzzing with gossip lately, and for once, it wasn’t about Fay Fairfax sneaking off on mysterious errands. No, this time, the students had turned their attention toward something—or rather, someone —else.

“Professor Frost, do you need help carrying Professor Garlick’s books?” a Slytherin fifth-year asked as I walked Mirabel to the Greenhouses after lunch.

Mirabel stifled a giggle as I shot the student a flat look. “I think she’s quite capable of carrying them herself, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Oh, of course,” the student replied, a mischievous glint in their eyes. “It’s just… it seems like you’re always around to help.”

I heard another student whisper behind me, “Did you see them in Hogsmeade last week? Practically glued together.”

I sighed, and Mirabel smiled up at me with barely contained amusement. “You are quite the chivalrous presence, Charlotte.”

“They’re lucky I have restraint,” I muttered. “Otherwise, I’d be deducting house points for meddling in their professors’ lives.”

Mirabel laughed, looping her arm through mine in an uncharacteristically bold move. “Oh, let them have their fun.”

But as much as I enjoyed the growing ease between us, my thoughts kept drifting back to Fay. She had been off lately—more secretive, more drained. She was showing up with more bruises, wielding magic that did not align with school-issued spells, and whispering to herself about trials. And I wasn’t the only one who had noticed.

After classes, I sought out Professor Fig in his office. The older professor greeted me warmly, though I could see the same exhaustion in his eyes that I had seen in Fay’s.

“Professor Frost, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked, setting down a book he had been reading.

I got straight to the point. “It’s Fay. She’s… different.”

Fig sighed and rubbed his temples. “I’ve noticed.”

“She’s powerful. But she’s reckless,” I said. “She’s asking questions about Ancient Magic in class, questions she shouldn’t even know to ask.”

Fig hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “Fay is… special. She’s shouldering a responsibility far greater than any of us expected.”

I leaned forward. “And you’re guiding her through it? Whatever it is?”

“As best as I can,” he admitted. “But some things she must face on her own.”

I crossed my arms. “Then she’s going to need someone watching her back, whether she likes it or not.”

Fig gave me a knowing smile. “I had a feeling you’d say that.”

That evening, as I sat on the couch in my apartment, my thoughts were still tangled in the mystery of Fay. Mirabel had stopped by, and as usual, her presence softened the edges of my worries. She sat beside me, close enough that I could feel the warmth of her arm against mine.

“You’re brooding,” she noted, tilting her head at me. “That’s never a good sign.”

I exhaled slowly, running a hand through my hair. “It’s Fay. She’s getting herself into things she’s not ready for, and Fig won’t tell me. And I can’t just stand by.”

Mirabel reached for my hand, lacing our fingers together in a rare, intimate gesture. “Charlotte… you can’t save everyone.”

I looked down at our joined hands, the simple act grounding me. “I know. But it doesn’t mean I won’t try.”

Mirabel squeezed my fingers. “Then try. But don’t lose yourself in it.”

After my last class the next day, I mounted Sage and flew toward the region where Poppy had told me about the dragon poachers. It didn’t take long before I spotted movement below—two figures near a riverbank, exchanging something under the cover of trees.

I guided Sage into a dive, landing with enough force to send dust flying. One of the poachers drew his wand, but I disarmed him in a heartbeat, sending his wand skittering into the grass.

“Where’s the dragon ring operating now?” I demanded.

The remaining poacher backed away, hands up. “I—I don’t know!”

I raised my wand, my voice dropping to a dangerous calm. “Try again.”

He swallowed hard. “The old mill. It’s still running. Even without a dragon, they’ve got creatures—duels for gambling.”

Satisfied, I tied him up with a binding spell and left him for the authorities before flying off toward the mill.

The building was packed with people, their cheers echoing through the rafters. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, ale, and something metallic—blood. Even without dragons, they had found other creatures to pit against each other.

I adjusted my cloak and adopted an air of wealth and arrogance. To these people, I was just another foreign gambler with money to burn.

“Looking for a wager, miss?” a burly man at the entrance asked.

I smiled coolly. “Actually, I’m looking for something more . A business opportunity.”

His eyes gleamed with greed. “I think the boss would like to hear that.”

I was led through the crowd and into a private room. The man inside was thickset with a jagged scar down his cheek. “You’re looking to invest?”

I leaned against the wall, casual. “I hear Rookwood is involved. That makes me interested.”

His expression darkened. “Who told you that?”

I smirked. “You just did.”

Before he could react, I was on him. He was strong, but I was faster. Spells flew, shattering furniture and cracking the walls. He hit me once, hard enough to send me stumbling, but I countered with a stunning spell that sent him crashing to the floor.

I crouched over him, pressing my wand to his throat. “Where does Rookwood meet?”

He gasped for breath. “Blackwood Hollow. He’s got a hideout there.”

I stood, adjusting my coat. “Shut this place down. Or I’ll do it for you.”

With that, I apparated outside, mounted Sage, and took off into the night.

When I arrived at my apartment, Mirabel was waiting. Her arms were crossed, her expression a mix of worry and exasperation.

“You were out late,” she said.

I sighed, setting my cloak aside. “I had to follow a lead.”

She shook her head. “Charlotte, you’re slipping back into old habits.”

I exhaled, rubbing the back of my neck. “I know. But if I don’t do something—”

Mirabel stepped closer, cupping my face in her hands. “You’re going to get yourself hurt. Or worse.”

I covered her hands with mine, leaning into her touch. “I can’t just stand by, Mirabel.”

Her green eyes searched mine before she sighed and pulled me into a tight embrace. “Then promise me something.”

I wrapped my arms around her, breathing her in. “Anything.”

She pressed her forehead against mine. “Promise me you’ll come back.”

I tightened my hold on her. “Always.”

Chapter 6: My Weakness

By the time the last of my students had left for the evening, the castle had settled into a quiet hum of torchlight and distant, echoing footsteps. My desk was littered with scrolls, ink-smudged fingers trailing over the last few assignments as I let out a slow breath. Even now, months into my role as a professor, it still struck me—

This is my life now.

Hogwarts was more than stone corridors and ancient magic. It was home. The Great Hall, still aglow with candlelight, the way the tapestries whispered in the dim, the distant warmth of students huddled in common rooms—it was all mine to protect, mine to cherish.

I rolled my shoulders and stretched, the weight of the day pressing down on me. And then, as if summoned by my thoughts, a familiar voice cut through the hush.

"Burning the midnight oil again, Professor Frost?"

I turned, already smiling. Mirabel leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, that soft, knowing expression she always wore when she caught me lingering too long in work. I knew I had Rookwood’s hideout, but Mirabel deserved more of my time and digging further would pull us apart. I was a professor first.

I breathed in her perfume. Her hair was slightly undone from the day, wisps curling at her cheeks.

I closed the last of my books. "Just making sure my students don’t set themselves on fire with improperly cast shields."

She chuckled, stepping closer. "And here I thought you enjoyed the chaos."

"I enjoy controlled chaos," I teased, tucking my quill away. "Big difference."

Mirabel tilted her head toward the corridor. "Come on, I’ve convinced the house-elves to part with their mulled cider. The lounge is empty."

I didn’t need much convincing.

The Professors’ Lounge was cast in amber glow, the fire flickering lazily against the stone walls. A kettle whistled on the hearth, filling the space with the rich scent of spiced cider. I sat on the worn-out couch, exhaling as warmth seeped into my skin.

Mirabel sat beside me, curling one leg beneath her, a mug cradled in her hands. "This is nice," she murmured. "No students. No Rookwood. Just—us."

I looked at her then, really looked at her, in the way I had let myself do more and more these days. The firelight caught in her eyes, making them shine like cut emeralds.

"Yeah," I said, quieter now. "Just us."

There was something about these moments that felt unwritten, like I was living a life I hadn’t dared to imagine for myself.

Mirabel reached for my hand without hesitation, tracing circles along my palm with her thumb. "You’re carrying too much again," she whispered, and I knew she wasn’t just talking about the day's workload.

I swallowed. "I’ve never been good at putting things down."

She smiled knowingly. "I think you’re better at it than you realize."

For a while, we sat like that, the fire crackling softly, my fingers curled around hers. It wasn’t grand, it wasn’t reckless, but it was real. 

Sleep pulled at the edges of my consciousness, and before I realized it, I had drifted off. Mirabel, warm and close beside me, must have too. The world faded into the quiet crackle of firewood and the scent of spiced cider, comfort settling over me like a blanket.

At some point in the night, a rustling sound stirred me slightly. The gentle weight of an actual blanket draped over us, a soft chuckle following soon after.

"You two work too hard," Professor Weasley murmured, amusement laced in her voice.

I barely had the energy to open my eyes, but I felt Mirabel shift beside me, letting out a sleepy hum of agreement.

Weasley chuckled again and left, her footsteps fading down the corridor, leaving us tucked safely beneath the warmth of the fire and each other.

The first time I dueled Mirabel, I expected to win easily.

I was an Auror, after all—trained, battle-tested, ruthless when necessary.

What I hadn’t accounted for was Mirabel’s cunning. I shouldn’t be surprised that she was my weakness.

It started as an innocent training session in the empty dueling hall, just a means to relieve stress, but it quickly escalated into something neither of us could walk away from.

"Let’s see if the Queen of Defense can handle a bit of unpredictability," Mirabel taunted, a wicked grin tugging at her lips.

I laughed. "Oh, you’re in for it now."

The first spell she cast was a twisting vine charm, fast, precise—I barely deflected it in time. She was quicker than I had anticipated, far more fluid than an average duelist. She didn’t rely on brute force like I did, but rather a calculated dance, letting nature do her bidding.

I sent a Disarming Charm her way, but she ducked, rolling effortlessly, conjuring a wall of vines between us. My pulse quickened, the thrill of the duel setting my blood alight.

"Clever," I mused, stepping around the greenery. "But predictable."

Before she could react, I flicked my wand, sending a rush of wind that scattered the vines like autumn leaves. Mirabel’s eyes widened, barely managing to block my next spell.

We circled each other, our breathing shallow, smiles lingering at the edges of our lips.

Then, she did something unexpected.

She didn’t cast a spell. She closed the distance.

Her wand was at my side, her hand curling around my wrist before I could react. I inhaled sharply, caught completely off-guard, and that’s when I knew.

She had outmaneuvered me.

I let out a breathless laugh. "You tricked me."

Her lips twitched upward. "You let yourself be tricked."

The moment stretched, her fingers still pressed against my wrist, her breath warm against my cheek. My mind screamed at me to focus, to move, to do anything but stand there like a fool completely undone by her proximity.

I did the only thing that made sense.

I closed the remaining space between us.

The kiss was slow, almost hesitant, but once it started, it unraveled something deep inside me. Her hand slid up my arm, curling at the back of my neck, pulling me in. I felt the weight of every moment we had shared—the stolen glances, the lingering touches, the whispered words at midnight.

Magic hummed in the air between us, the remnants of our duel fading into something infinitely more dangerous.

When we finally pulled apart, Mirabel’s eyes were half-lidded, dazed, her fingers still tangled in my hair.

"I think I lost the duel," I murmured, breathless.

Mirabel laughed softly, pressing her forehead to mine. "I think we both won."

I grinned, brushing my lips against hers once more before finally stepping back, my heart pounding in my chest.

Falling in love had never been part of the plan.

But if this was where it led me—

I was more than willing to follow.

–

Snow had blanketed the castle grounds overnight, transforming Hogwarts into something out of an old, enchanted painting. The turrets and archways shimmered under the weight of fresh snowfall, and the Black Lake reflected the pale glow of a winter sun, mirroring the soft blues and silvers of the sky.

I stood just outside the entrance hall, bundled in my cloak, watching as students delighted in the first true snowfall of the season. Charms were being used in excess—snowballs were charmed to hover ominously before striking their targets, and animated snow creatures pranced around the courtyards, much to the amusement of younger students.

A soft hand slipped into mine, and I turned to see Mirabel beside me, her cheeks flushed from the cold, her green eyes bright with excitement.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she murmured, voice warm despite the crisp air.

I nodded. "It is. But I suspect you've got something in mind beyond just admiring the scenery."

She grinned. "Come on, Professor Frost. It’s a perfect day for a little adventure."

We started with a walk along the frozen Black Lake, our boots crunching against the freshly fallen snow. The Forbidden Forest loomed in the distance, its treetops dusted white, a stark contrast to the deep green below. Mirabel was the first to reach out and catch a falling snowflake, letting it melt against her gloved palm.

"Did you ever get much snow at Ilvermorny?" she asked, glancing over at me.

I exhaled a puff of warm breath into the cold air. "Plenty. The Berkshires were buried in snow most of the winter. Some of my best dueling practice happened in blizzards."

Mirabel laughed. "Of course, your idea of winter fun was dueling in a snowstorm."

I smirked. "What can I say? We had to make do. What about you?"

She sighed happily, tucking her hands into her coat. "I love the snow. Always have. I used to sneak out to the greenhouses just to watch the way the frost clung to the glass in the mornings. Hogwarts in winter always feels like something out of a dream."

We continued walking, talking about everything and nothing at all, until we reached the edge of the Great Lake. The surface was frozen solid, but in the distance, a group of students was already testing their luck skating across it.

Mirabel turned to me with a glint in her eye. "You any good at ice skating?"

I gave her a wary look. "That depends. Do you count 'falling spectacularly' as a skill?"

She laughed, grabbing my hand. "Come on, I’ll teach you."

Before I could protest, she was leading me onto the ice. She moved effortlessly, gliding like she was weightless. I, on the other hand, barely managed two steps before losing my balance. Mirabel caught me before I could hit the ice, giggling as she steadied me with both hands on my waist.

"You’re supposed to move, not fight the ice," she teased.

"I am moving," I muttered. "Just… not gracefully."

She grinned. "Then let me lead."

I let out a breath and gave in, allowing her to guide me. It was awkward at first, but soon enough, I was finding my rhythm. We skated in slow circles, the castle standing tall behind us, the sound of distant laughter filling the crisp air.

For a moment, it felt like time had stilled, like the whole world had narrowed down to just her and me and the sound of our breath mingling in the cold.

After our impromptu skating lesson, we made our way to Hogsmeade, brushing snow from our coats as we stepped inside the warmth of The Three Broomsticks. The tavern was bustling, filled with the scent of roasted chestnuts and warm spiced cider, students and professors alike seeking refuge from the cold.

Sirona spotted us the moment we entered and smirked knowingly as we took a table in the corner. "Ah, my favorite professors," she greeted, setting down two butterbeers before we could even ask. "You two looked quite cozy on the way in."

Mirabel shot me a sideways glance, amused. "We just came from the lake. Charlotte is exceptionally bad at ice skating."

I huffed. "I wasn’t that bad."

Sirona chuckled. "I have a feeling you let Mirabel take the lead."

I didn’t respond, but Mirabel was positively glowing at the implication. Sirona, never one to miss an opportunity, teased us mercilessly throughout our drinks, but in the end, she gave me a knowing smile, as if to say, About time, Professor.

As we sipped our butterbeers, Mirabel asked about Ilvermorny traditions, curious about how my school differed from Hogwarts. I grinned and shared a funny story about the time I accidentally turned my friend’s hair permanently blue in school.

"Permanently?" Mirabel asked, eyes wide with laughter.

"I mean, we got most of it out," I admitted. "But there were streaks for weeks . And some of it may or may not be there."

She laughed, shaking her head. "Remind me never to let you near my hair with a wand."

By the time we left The Three Broomsticks, the village was quiet, the snowfall slowing to a gentle drift. We walked side by side down the path back to the castle, our boots leaving prints in the untouched snow.

Mirabel suddenly gasped, her fingers tightening around mine. "Look!"

I followed her gaze just in time to see a shooting star streak across the velvety expanse of night.

"Make a wish," she whispered.

I turned my head to look at her, at the way the moonlight kissed her skin, at the warmth in her gaze that had nothing to do with magic.

And then I said, "Why would I wish for something I already have?"

Mirabel’s breath caught, and for a moment, she just stared at me, as if searching for the right words. Then, instead of speaking, she lifted my hand to her lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles.

No magic in the world could have made me feel warmer than I did in that moment.

And as Hogwarts loomed ahead, I knew—this was home.

She was home.

Chapter 7: Truth

The whispers had grown louder.

I didn’t need to be an Auror to notice the way Sebastian, Natsai, and Poppy spoke in hushed voices between classes. It was always about Fay.

“She’s pushing herself too hard,” I heard Natsai murmur as they walked past my office.

Sebastian scoffed. “That’s what she does. She’s powerful.”

“That doesn’t mean she’s invincible,” Poppy countered. “And with what’s been happening…”

Their voices trailed off, and I resisted the urge to step out and confront them. Instead, I waited until I was in the training hall, where I could observe Fay for myself.

It didn’t take long.

During class, I had the students practicing defensive spell combinations, but Fay’s tactics were… concerning. She was too aggressive, her movements too sharp, her spellwork far beyond what a student should be capable of. She didn’t just defend—she overpowered, moved like she was fighting for her life, as if every duel was a battle she refused to lose.

The way she dodged spells and countered attacks—it wasn’t just instinct. It was experience.

I dismissed the students after class, but my unease remained. Fay was in the middle of something far bigger than what she let on, and I wasn’t the only one who had noticed.

A few days later, I was making my way to Hogsmeade when I caught sight of something unusual near the castle gates. Goblins.

They weren’t just passing through. They were watching.

I stayed in the shadows, watching as they muttered to one another, scanning the students as they moved to and from the grounds. One of them, a brutish figure in dark armor, hissed something in Gobbledegook before they disappeared into the trees.

I didn’t need a translator to understand what they were doing.

They were hunting someone.

And I had a very strong suspicion that someone was Fay Fairfax.

By the time I arrived at the weekly professors’ meeting, my mind was already racing. But it seemed I wasn’t the only one troubled.

Headmaster Black’s voice cut through the room. “I will not have this school turned into a battlefield,” he barked. “The goblin disturbances are growing. The Ashwinders are emboldened. And—” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “—I am aware that certain students have… a habit of getting involved in things they shouldn’t.”

My eyes flicked toward Fig, but I caught Mirabel’s gaze as well. Her brows furrowed, and I could tell she was thinking the same thing I was.

“Until this is resolved, we must take extra precautions,” Black continued. “Ensure students stay on castle grounds unless accompanied by a professor. Limit travel to Hogsmeade. And above all, watch them closely.”

A murmur of agreement followed, though I was barely paying attention. My gaze lingered on Fig, and I could tell he was holding something back.

I intended to find out what.

I caught up with Fig as he left the meeting. “You’re going to tell me what’s going on,” I said, stepping into his path. “Now.”

Fig hesitated. “Charlotte, I—”

“Don’t ‘Charlotte’ me, Eleazar. I know you’re hiding something about Fay, and I need the truth.”

His shoulders sagged. After a long pause, he nodded. “Follow me.”

He led me through the castle, down into the depths of Hogwarts, past passages I hadn’t even known existed. And then, we entered a room unlike any I had ever seen.

A map chamber. Ancient. Glowing. Filled with knowledge that felt beyond our time. The Pensieve shows the world long ago and the parallel to Fay.

“This,” Fig said softly, “is what Fay has been fighting for.”

I stared at the glowing symbols, the faces of long-dead wizards preserved in portraits around the chamber. “Ancient Magic,” I murmured.

Fig nodded. “She’s almost completed the trials.”

I turned to him sharply. “Trials? You mean to tell me a student—our student—has been undertaking dangerous magical trials while we’ve all been blindly teaching her how to duel?”

Before he could answer, movement at the entrance caught my eye.

Fay.

She froze, her eyes wide as she took in the sight of me standing in the chamber. “Professor Frost?”

For a long moment, none of us spoke. But then, I saw something in her eyes.

Trust.

She didn’t need to explain. I had my answers. And now, I had to decide what to do with them.

I left the chamber with my mind reeling. I didn’t realize where my feet were taking me until I heard a familiar voice.

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

I turned to see Mirabel leaning against the stone wall, arms crossed, watching me carefully.

I exhaled. “Yes.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And?”

I stepped closer, tilting my head. “And all I want to think about right now is you.”

Mirabel blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Oh.”

I grinned. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

A slow smile spread across her lips. “I think I’d like that.”

That weekend, I surprised Mirabel with a broom ride to a hidden grove deep in the Forbidden Forest—one filled with glowing mushrooms and fireflies that lit up the sky like stars.

“You flew me to a secret enchanted clearing?” she asked, amused.

“I did,” I confirmed, taking her hand. “And I brought a picnic.”

We sat beneath the glowing canopy, the winter air frigid, but warm between us. Mirabel must have noticed the tension in my shoulders because she set down her tea and touched my arm gently. “Charlotte… you’ve been carrying this weight since the moment we met.”

I let out a breath, rubbing my hands together. “I just… I don’t want to talk about Fay. I feel like my obsession with unraveling truths, protecting people—it’s taking me away from you.”

Mirabel’s expression softened. “You are cursed with good instincts, Charlotte. If you’re worried, it’s for a reason—especially now, with the goblins becoming more hostile.”

I sighed, then looked at her. “I’ve been wondering. Your upbringing. What was it like being Muggle-born and coming to Hogwarts?”

She smiled wistfully. “It was… strange. My family didn’t understand. I didn’t understand. One day, I was just Mirabel, the odd girl with a talent for making things grow. The next, I had a letter telling me I belonged to a world I never knew existed.”

I listened intently as she described leaving her old life behind, how difficult it was to be apart from her family and everything she knew.

“I had to build a new family over time,” she admitted. “That’s why my friends are so important to me. It’s also why I was afraid to date. I never wanted to risk disrupting the peace I found here.” She turned to me. “But you? You’re worth the risk.”

I laughed softly. “If things go terribly, I give you permission to deport me out of Hogwarts.”

She grinned. “Oh, I will. Straight into the Forbidden Forest.”

I wrapped an arm around her, warmth spreading through me as the laughter faded into a comfortable silence. After we finished eating, I told her about Barnaby suggesting I teach at Hogwarts, about how broken I had been. “Even though I’m still tense now, I’m so much better because you and Sage are in my life. I hope I have the same effect on you.”

She looked up at me, eyes shining. “You do.”

The holiday season was in full swing, and the air in Hogwarts carried a festive warmth despite the frigid weather beyond the castle walls. My desk, however, was cluttered with a mountain of handwritten exams—each one carefully scrutinized beneath the flickering candlelight. My quill moved methodically across the parchment, marking down corrections, offering praise where due.

Then, my gaze drifted to the single delicate flower resting on the edge of my desk. A gift from Mirabel, left behind with an absent-minded smile as she passed through earlier in the day. I picked it up, rolling the stem between my fingers, and something deep within me settled.

I was enraptured by her.

It had been difficult to keep our relationship quiet, especially with students watching our every move with knowing glances and hushed whispers. The headmaster, to my surprise, hadn't pried, and I wasn't sure what I would do if he ever did. Mirabel was becoming engrained in my life, woven into my day as naturally as breathing.

Fig and I still checked in regularly, though things had been relatively stable. My wounds were healing faster, but that only meant I had grown stronger, more capable—better at disguising the battles I waged beyond my classroom.

Sebastian had become increasingly obsessed with finding a way to help his sister, and Fay… well, Fay carried the weight of something far greater than she should. Between the two of them, I had my hands full, yet my students were excelling. No one was failing, and that in itself was a small victory.

A knock at the door pulled me from my thoughts. “Come in,” I called, stretching my sore fingers as I set my quill down.

Mirabel stepped inside, her presence immediately warming the dim room. “You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you?” she teased, nodding toward the pile of exams.

I smirked. “Oh, absolutely. Nothing like deciphering fifth-year handwriting to put me in a festive mood.”

She leaned against my desk, close enough that I could catch the scent of the lavender oil she always carried. “I’m jealous, you know. You don’t have a single failing student. I have one terrified of sentient plants.”

I chuckled, resting back in my chair. “I can’t say I blame them. Some of those plants have a bit too much personality.”

Mirabel sighed dramatically before meeting my gaze. The teasing faded, replaced with something quieter, more electric. I became acutely aware of how close she was, of the way her dress bunched slightly as she perched on my desk. Almost instinctively, my fingers traced the fabric at her thigh, a feather-light touch.

Her breath hitched. Our eyes met, half-lidded, the tension between us stretching thin like spun glass.

I leaned in first, hesitant but sure, and she met me halfway. The first touch of her lips was slow, deliberate, as if we were savoring something long anticipated. Mirabel sighed against me, her fingers grazing my jaw, pulling me in deeper. My hand slid to her waist, anchoring us in place, our breaths mingling in the quiet sanctuary of my office.

Then—

A frantic knock.

The door burst open, and we jolted apart as Fig stormed inside, panic written across his features. “I can’t find Fay,” he blurted out, his voice raw with urgency. “I think she’s going after Rookwood—alone.”

The air in the room shifted from warmth to ice. Mirabel stood abruptly. “Alone?” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

Fig nodded. “She’s been moving toward this for weeks, but I didn’t think—damn it, I should have been watching more closely.”

I was already on my feet, my wand secured in its holster. Fear engulfing me. If she got hurt or worse, I would blame myself for not attacking Rookwood first. “Mirabel, cover for me if the students ask where I am.”

Mirabel’s worry deepened. “Charlotte—”

“I have to go.”

Her lips parted, but she didn’t argue. Because she wasn’t just worried for me. She was terrified for Fay.

The night was bitterly cold as I flew over the frost-covered land, Sage’s wings carrying me swiftly toward the meeting ground where Rookwood and his men were waiting. The ruins outside the Forbidden Forest loomed ahead, their eerie glow casting jagged shadows against the snow.

As I descended, I saw Fay already engaged in battle—outnumbered but relentless, her wand sparking with Ancient Magic. Rookwood stood at a distance, watching her with a sick kind of amusement.

I landed hard, throwing off my cloak as I sent a stunning spell toward one of the Ashwinders advancing on her. “Fairfax!” I called.

Fay glanced over her shoulder, her eyes widening at the sight of me. “Professor—”

“No time,” I said sharply, blocking a curse aimed at her back. “You’re not alone in this.”

Rookwood’s laughter cut through the fray. “Ah, Frost. How kind of you to join us.”

I turned toward him, wand steady. “Surrender now, or I will make you regret it.”

He smirked. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

The fight that followed was chaos. Fay and I moved together instinctively, blocking and countering as Ashwinders closed in around us. Fire and ice clashed in the air, the smell of scorched earth thick as spell after spell illuminated the battlefield.

Then, Rookwood turned his full attention to me.

He was skilled. But I had spent years fighting those more ruthless, more calculated than him. He threw a blast of dark magic my way—I dodged, rolling to the side before slamming a concussive force into his chest. He staggered but recovered, snarling as he unleashed a barrage of hexes.

I deflected, pushed forward. I was stronger now, faster. And I was furious .

Rookwood made a mistake. He left an opening. And I took it.

With a flick of my wrist, I sent him flying backward, his body crashing against the ancient stones. I could feel Fay watching intensely from behind. He groaned, struggling to rise, but I was already standing over him, my wand aimed at his throat.

“This ends now,” I said.

Fay approached, her breathing ragged. “Is he—?”

“Alive,” I confirmed. “For now.”

The sound of approaching footsteps signaled reinforcements—Hogwarts professors and Ministry officials, led by Fig. Rookwood’s men fell into disarray, some Disapparating, others collapsing under well-placed spells.

It was over.

Fay exhaled shakily, looking at me with something between gratitude and exhaustion. “Thank you.”

I nodded, lowering my wand. “Let’s get back home.”

By the time I returned to my quarters, it was well past midnight. Mirabel was waiting, pacing by the fire, her face drawn with worry. The moment she saw me, she rushed forward, wrapping her arms around me tightly.

I held her just as fiercely. “It’s over,” I murmured. “She’s safe.”

Mirabel pulled back just enough to cup my face. “And you ?”

I smiled tiredly. “Still in one piece.”

She let out a breath, shaking her head. “One day, I’m going to hex you for scaring me like this.”

I chuckled, brushing my lips against her forehead. “I’ll take my chances.”

She huffed, but her grip on me only tightened. “Just don’t make a habit of it.”

I kissed her softly, grounding myself in her warmth. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Chapter 8: ​​The Siege of Hogwarts

The atmosphere in my office was heavy, charged with the weight of the truth Fay was finally revealing to me. She sat across from me, her fingers tracing patterns on the wood of my desk, her expression uncertain but resolute.

“Her name was Isidora Morganach,” Fay began. “She was a student at Hogwarts, centuries ago, and she… she tried to manipulate ancient magic. She thought she could use it to remove suffering, but in the end, it consumed her.”

I leaned forward, absorbing every word. “And the Keepers? The trials?”

“They were created to test whether someone was worthy of accessing the ancient magic,” Fay explained. “I’ve completed nearly all of them. But the last repository—it’s beneath Hogwarts, Professor. If I know that, Ranrok has to at least suspect it. And once he does…”

“He’ll come for it,” I finished, my stomach twisting. “And he’ll tear through Hogwarts to get there.”

Before I could say more, the door creaked open. Mirabel stepped in, her usual warmth dampened by urgency. “Love, I just came from Matilda—there are more goblins attacking. The defenses are holding for now, but—”

Her eyes landed on Fay, widening with shock.

Fay exhaled, standing up. “I told Ominis that you two were together.”

Heat rushed to my face. “Not appropriate to talk about, Fairfax.”

Fay laughed, raising her hands in surrender. “Apologies, Professor.”

But before the moment could linger, the door slammed open again. Fig, breathless, face grim, stepped inside.

“Fay,” he said, voice raw. “I think Ranrok is making his move. There are more goblin forces coming on the horizon, and he’s digging beneath Hogwarts. We don’t have much time.”

Mirabel straightened. “I’ll rally the professors. The students need to be protected.”

I placed a hand on her arm, squeezing briefly. “I’m staying with Fay.”

Her green eyes searched mine, a silent exchange of worry and understanding. Then she nodded, determination hardening her features. “Then I’ll see you when it’s done.”

And with that, she was gone.

The ground trembled beneath us as Ranrok’s forces broke through the catacombs under the castle. The air was thick with spells, cries of battle echoing through the stone corridors as goblins clashed with Hogwarts professors and enchanted defenses.

We fought our way toward the Keepers' Caverns, myself, Fay, and Fig standing side by side, blasting through Ranrok’s Loyalists. The halls were filled with fire and shadows, the glint of goblin blades and the scent of charred stone.

As we reached the repository, Ranrok was already there, his red eyes gleaming in the dim light. The goblin stood atop the final chamber, his expression triumphant, his hand clutching a wand Fig recognized instantly.

Fig froze beside me, his breath shuddering. “That’s my wife’s…”

Ranrok’s lips curled into a sneer. “This could have been avoided if she had simply given me the container,” he said, voice dripping with disdain. Then he scoffed, shaking his head. “She was a fool. And so are you.”

Fig, usually the most composed of us all, raised his wand in fury. “You dare—”

But Ranrok struck first.

The blast redirected, shattering the ceiling as the ancient magic within the repository exploded outward. Energy crackled like lightning, the force sending me and Fay skidding back.

Then, in a blinding flash, Ranrok was gone.

A second later, a monstrous roar filled the chamber.

He had transformed.

A dragon—massive, pulsing with ancient magic, his blackened scales streaked with veins of glowing red. He lunged with inhuman speed, his wings knocking Fig off balance before I could react.

The force sent Fay sprawling, and as I reached for my wand, Ranrok’s clawed foot came crashing down.

Directly on Fig.

“No!” Fay screamed as the impact shook the chamber. Fig’s body was pinned beneath the beast’s massive limb, his face twisted in pain. I rushed forward, throwing up my hands to soften Fay’s fall as the ground beneath us cracked and gave way.

We tumbled into the lower chamber, my back slamming against the stone floor. The world blurred for a moment before I pushed myself up, gasping. Above us, Ranrok’s form loomed, wings spread wide, eyes burning with unnatural fire.

Fay staggered to her feet beside me. “Professor—”

“I’m fine,” I gritted out, forcing my body to move. “Fig?”

He was still alive, but barely.

There was no time.

“Together,” I told Fay, my voice steady despite the chaos. “We end this together.”

She nodded, and we launched into battle.

Ranrok was relentless. Fire rained down from above as we dodged his sweeping claws and countered his dark magic with our own. I had never fought something so powerful, something so utterly corrupted by magic itself. But we were holding our own.

I covered Fay as she unleashed ancient magic against him, the sheer force of her power shaking the chamber’s foundations. Every spell, every movement was a dance of survival, a testament to everything she had learned, everything she had fought for.

Then, finally, in a final burst of magic, Ranrok faltered.

Fay struck the final blow.

His monstrous form convulsed before shattering into a cascade of glowing embers, his body returning to its original goblin state. He collapsed to the ground, lifeless, the echoes of his ambitions fading into the cavern’s silence.

It was over.

Fay stood over Fig’s body, her hands trembling. “He’s not waking up,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Mirabel arrived seconds later, having fought her way through to us. She took one look at the scene and knelt beside Fay, wrapping her arms around her. Mirabel’s maternal instincts was magic itself.

“He was proud of you,” Mirabel murmured, brushing back Fay’s hair as she sobbed quietly. “We all are.”

I swallowed the grief that rose in my throat and turned to Mirabel, our eyes meeting in silent understanding. Hogwarts was safe. The students were safe.

At the end of the year, a memorial was held for Fig. The Great Hall was heavy with unspoken sorrow, but also with deep, profound respect for the man who had given everything to protect his students.

At the Leaving Feast, Professor Weasley honored Fay for her heroism. The students cheered, but only I knew the weight of her decision to not take the last repository for selfish power and keep it locked away.

As the applause faded, I felt Mirabel’s hand slip into mine beneath the table, grounding me, reminding me of everything still left to hold onto.

Chapter 9: Epilogue: A Summer of Quiet Magic

The castle had settled into its summer stillness, the once-bustling corridors now quiet, save for the occasional rustle of enchanted tapestries shifting in the breeze. Hogwarts in the summer was a different kind of magic—the air was thick with the scent of blooming wildflowers, the lake shimmered under the golden sun, and the Forbidden Forest hummed with life, unbothered by students for the time being.

Mirabel and I had decided to stay at Hogwarts for the summer, though I suspected it was less about necessity and more about not wanting to leave the place we had come to call home.

I woke to the familiar sound of feathers rustling just outside the open window. A warm breeze carried the scent of dew and fresh grass through our small cottage near the greenhouses, the one Mirabel had chosen for us once the school year had ended.

Sage, ever persistent, nudged at the windowpane with his beak.

I groaned, stretching. "He's worse than a student before breakfast."

Mirabel stirred beside me, smiling against the pillow. "At least he’s patient enough to knock."

With a wave of my wand, the window swung open, and Sage swooped inside, flapping dramatically before perching at the foot of the bed. He let out a low, insistent coo, eyes sharp with expectation.

Mirabel laughed, propping herself up on one elbow. "Alright, alright, I’ll get his food."

I reached out before she could move, tugging her gently back into my arms. "Or we could stay here a little longer."

She hummed, tracing absentminded patterns along my wrist. "Tempting. But Sage might start pecking you."

I sighed dramatically, sitting up and ruffling his feathers. "Demanding creature, aren’t you?"

Sage simply preened, looking all too pleased with himself as Mirabel slipped out of bed to prepare his breakfast.

We spent the afternoon stretched out on a blanket by the Black Lake, letting time pass without urgency. The water lapped gently against the shore, a warm breeze tugging at Mirabel’s hair as she flipped through a book on rare magical herbs. Sage sat nearby, basking in the sun, his wings spread lazily.

Mirabel suddenly plucked a smooth stone from the shore and skipped it across the water with effortless ease, watching as it bounced four times before sinking.

I raised an eyebrow. "Alright, that was impressive. Ever consider going pro?"

She laughed, shaking her head. "If only that were a career."

I leaned back on my hands. "With form like that, maybe it should be."

Mirabel smirked. "Well, I did play Quidditch in school."

I blinked in surprise. "Wait—what?"

She grinned, stretching her legs out in front of her. "Hufflepuff Chaser, three years."

"I had no idea !" I gaped at her. "And here I thought I knew everything about you."

Mirabel shrugged playfully. "I guess I had to keep some mystery. What about you?"

I smirked. "Ilvermorny had teams too, you know. Horned Serpent Chaser"

She tilted her head. "I didn’t even know Ilvermorny had a team."

I placed a hand over my heart, feigning offense. "Mirabel, please. We’re American. Sports are in our blood."

She chuckled, shaking her head. "I should have known."

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, Mirabel took my hand and led me toward the greenhouses. I followed without question, trusting wherever she wanted to take me.

She stopped at a secluded patch just behind Greenhouse Three. Rows of roses stretched before us, full and vibrant, each petal kissed by the fading light of summer.

I exhaled softly. "Mirabel... this is beautiful."

She clasped her hands together, suddenly nervous. "I've been growing them for months. I wanted to create something... lasting. Something that would remind me of us."

I turned to her, eyes soft. "You did all this for me?"

She nodded, a small, shy smile playing at her lips. "Before I met you, I didn’t know the first thing about love. It was something distant, something for other people. But that changed the moment you stepped into my greenhouse."

My breath hitched as she continued, voice steady but full of emotion. "You make me braver, happier. My entire life changed because of you, Charlotte. And I don’t want a life where you’re not in it."

She stepped closer, eyes glistening. "I love you."

For the first time in a long while, I felt the sting of tears behind my eyes. I swallowed hard, blinking fast, but I couldn’t stop the way my heart clenched at the sheer tenderness of it all.

I cupped her face, voice barely above a whisper. "I love you too, Mirabel... you have been the reason my life has changed for the better. And I will be with you for as long as you can stand me."

She let out a breathless laugh, eyes shimmering. "I look forward to forever then."

I didn’t wait. I kissed her, slow and deep, the warmth of summer and roses wrapping around us like a quiet spell.

And as the sun set behind the castle, I knew one thing with absolute certainty—

I was already living my happily ever after.

Notes:

Thanks for reading! This was a quick fic I through together after playing Hogwarts Legacy. I love that Mirabel's character is canonically queer and the idea of being a foreign professor was an interesting idea. Harry Potter fans please note I tried my best to research, but I am in no way an expert. I hope you enjoyed <3