The pale morning light had just begun to seep through the heavy drapes when the quiet of the little dormitory room was broken by a sharp, insistent knock at the door.
Eira stirred first, her body still warm from the night, Fleur's arms wound tightly around her waist. She blinked, disoriented for a moment, until the second knock came—louder, more impatient this time.
Fleur groaned softly and burrowed closer, but the knocking refused to stop.
Then came a familiar young voice, muffled but distinctly annoyed:
"Come on, my stupid sister, open the door! I want to change my clothes!"
Both girls sat up quickly, the sudden words pulling them out of their drowsy cocoon. Eira hid her smile behind her hand as she glanced at Fleur. Fleur's beautiful face was twisted in irritation, her pale brows furrowed.
She clicked her tongue and muttered under her breath, "Merde."
Eira couldn't help it—she laughed, the sound bright in the quiet room.
"You should see your face," she teased softly, reaching for her shirt where it had been discarded the night before. She slid her arms into the sleeves, then picked up her bra, twisting slightly toward Fleur. "Could you fasten this for me?"
Still scowling, Fleur nonetheless leaned forward and clasped the hooks behind her back with deft fingers, her touch lingering a little too long.
Eira gave her a sidelong look as she adjusted the straps. "Merci," she said smoothly, then began buttoning her shirt. "Now hurry. You're still naked."
Fleur flopped back on the bed with a dramatic sigh. "Who cares?"
"You should," Eira replied in a dry, no-nonsense tone. She crossed the room, picked up Fleur's nightgown from where it had fallen, and returned to her side. "Up. Arms in."
Fleur groaned like a spoiled child, but Eira ignored it, pulling the soft fabric over her head and tugging it down into place. The gesture was gentle, almost maternal, and Fleur muttered, "You treat me like I am five."
"You act like it sometimes," Eira countered with a small smile.
The knocking resumed, louder this time.
Eira sighed, smoothed her hair back into order with a few practiced strokes, and went to the door. When she opened it, a small figure stood there: Gabrielle Delacour, her arms folded and her expression thunderous.
But when Gabrielle's sharp eyes flicked past Eira and landed on Fleur sitting on the bed, realization dawned quickly. Her face shifted from anger to triumph.
"Oh, I see," she said with exaggerated sweetness. "You kicked me out last night so you could have a night with your girlfriend."
She swept past Eira and into the room, planting herself before Fleur with all the righteous fury of a little sister scorned.
Eira quietly closed the door and leaned against it, amusement flickering in her green eyes. The sisters glared at each other in silence until Fleur, clearly grasping for control, said sharply:
"What are you doing here so early, Gabrielle? Didn't I tell you I needed sleep after yesterday? I was exhausted."
"Oh, forgive me," Gabrielle replied with mock politeness, her voice dripping sarcasm. "I must apologize for disturbing you two during your lovey-dovey time."
"Gabrielle!" Fleur snapped, her cheeks turning pink. "Didn't I tell you not to talk about these things? It's inappropriate. Matters of love belong to adults, and you are still a child."
"I'm not a child!" Gabrielle shot back at once, stamping her foot. "I know more than you think I do."
Fleur narrowed her eyes. "Oh? And what exactly do you think you know? Who told you these things, hm? Answer me!"
Gabrielle lifted her chin proudly. "I know that if two people kiss each other deeply, then the woman gets pregnant and has a baby. Maman told me. And you know what? She never told you that, which means she loves me more."
For a moment, silence reigned. Then Eira broke into laughter, clutching the edge of the desk for support as tears pricked the corners of her eyes.
Gabrielle turned to her, baffled. "What are you laughing at?"
"Oh, nothing," Eira said between laughs, trying to compose herself. "It just seems Madame Delacour loves her younger daughter very much indeed."
"Of course she does," Gabrielle said immediately, puffing out her chest. "She tells me secrets she doesn't tell Fleur."
Fleur, meanwhile, was visibly fighting to maintain her dignity, her lips twitching despite her best efforts.
"She does not love you more," Fleur snapped finally. "She loves me more."
Gabrielle shrugged with a nonchalant little smirk. "Oh, yes, yes, she loves you more. Whatever you say." She waved a hand airily and marched toward the wardrobe, pulling out a neatly folded stack of clothes. "Anyway, I'm changing. I have a meeting."
Fleur's eyebrows shot up. "A meeting? What meeting could you possibly have?"
"I'm going to the library with Astoria," Gabrielle answered primly as she disappeared into the small changing area.
Eira hid another smile behind her hand.
While Gabrielle was changing, her voice floated out cheerfully: "So, did you figure out what the golden egg does yet? Or does it just scream like a banshee until your ears fall off?"
Fleur crossed her arms. "I don't know yet. Madame Maxime said she will help us work it out."
"I will try as well," Eira added thoughtfully.
"Well, that's your job," Gabrielle called back. "I'm just going to the castle."
Eira said, "Alright, wait for me! I'm heading to the castle too, so let's go together."
Gabrielle emerged a few moments later, her blond hair neatly brushed, her cloak draped over her shoulders. "I'll be waiting outside. But if you take too long, I'm leaving without you."
Fleur's stern façade softened briefly. "Be careful, Gabrielle."
Eira stepped closer, brushing a hand against Fleur's arm. "I'll go with her. I have Potions this morning, and it's unwise to arrive late given my relationship with the professor."
Gabrielle nodded briskly. "Good. I'll wait outside."
She swept out of the room, and the door clicked shut behind her.
The moment she was gone, Fleur seized Eira's wrist and tugged her back onto the bed, her lips pressing against hers in a hungry kiss.
"It's good she's gone," Fleur murmured between kisses.
Eira laughed softly against her mouth, returning the kiss. When she pulled back, she glanced down at Fleur's collarbone—and froze. Her cheeks flushed crimson. "Oh dear…"
Fleur tilted her head innocently. "What is it, mon amour?"
Eira touched the faint bruises scattered across her lover's pale skin, little blue and purple marks blooming like ink. "Your chest. It's all marked."
She bit her lip, remembering, and blushed harder. "That's my revenge. Do you recall the last time? My whole neck was black and blue. Now it's my turn."
Fleur's eyes glinted, her smile mischievous. "Do not worry, chérie. You are marked as well. And I will not hide mine. I will wear them proudly—as a badge of honor."
Eira groaned softly and covered her face with one hand. Fleur laughed, delighted, and leaned forward to kiss her again.
Reluctantly, Eira pulled away. "Enough. I really must go."
Fleur pouted but smiled knowingly. "Very well. I will sleep a little longer."
Eira slipped on her coat, smoothed her hair into order once more, then leaned down and kissed Fleur tenderly.
When she turned to the window, Fleur laughed out loud. "What are you doing?"
"Leaving," Eira said simply, sliding it open.
"You can use the door, you know."
"It's fine," Eira replied calmly, and with practiced grace, jumped out.
Fleur shook her head, still smiling. When the room fell silent again, she whispered to the empty air, her voice soft and full of love:
"With every little thing you do, Eira White, you make me love you more."