Inside the one of the towers at Ilvermorny there was a small party behind had.
The thunderbirds were currently celebrating the end of exams, and the last year of the seventh years. It was a celebration filled with a lot of emotions. Some seventh year didn't want to leave the school behind, they had after all spent seven long years here. At that point it would feel more home than home.
Even for the first years, it already felt like home.
"I still don't understand how you're all so calm," June said, balancing two glasses of sparkling pumpkin drink as she squeezed through the crowd.
"We're not calm," replied a tall seventh year boy leaning against the window. "We're pretending."
"That seems unhealthy."
"It's tradition."
Nearby, a group of girls clung together in the corner, half laughing, half visibly emotional. One wiped at her eyes while insisting she absolutely was not crying. Her friends nodded with deep, solemn dishonesty.
Fila watched it all with quiet fascination.
For the older students, this night carried weight. For the first years, it carried revelation. The year that once felt enormous and uncertain now sat behind them, complete. Ilvermorny no longer felt like a strange castle of shifting staircases and intimidating professors.
It felt like home.
Calla leaned beside her. "Strange, isn't it?"
"What is?"
"How quickly it stopped feeling new."
Fila nodded slowly. "It's… settled."
Across the room, Theo had been cornered by Milles and Elliot near a table overflowing with enchanted sweets. Small fireworks crackled harmlessly above the plates, bursting into tiny constellations before dissolving.
"I am telling you," Milles insisted, "that shield charm saved my entire academic career."
"You've had one year."
"And it was a difficult year."
Elliot nodded gravely. "We've suffered."
Theo rolled his eyes. "You passed."
"Barely."
"You did not barely pass. You passed idiot."
Fila laughed under her breath.
Music swelled again, something fast and buoyant. A few students attempted dancing with wildly varying degrees of grace. One particularly enthusiastic second year spun too hard and collided gently into a suit of armor, which responded by bowing politely before resuming stillness.
Even the castle seemed amused.
Fila drifted toward the open window, drawn by the cool evening air. Outside, the grounds stretched beneath a sky brushed with violet and fading gold. Fireflies flickered faintly near the tree line, tiny living sparks echoing the lanterns within.
Behind her, the celebration pulsed on.
She was happy to go home once again. summer at the manor was something she had longed for. She was excited to do some training, but also just to relax in the summer sun.
"There you are!"
Fila turned to see June and Stella approaching.
"I heard you managed to score highest out of everyone in herbology and charms." Stella pulled Fila into a tight hug. "That's our little thunder flower." She said happily.
Stella had always been there for Fila and the others, she was of course a fifth-year prefect, but she helped no matter what. And was just really nice, always encouraging us.
Fila let out a soft laugh as Stella wrapped her in a hug that was equal parts pride and genuine affection.
"Stella," she said, slightly breathless, "I can't breathe, you know."
Stella pulled back, entirely unapologetic, her eyes bright with satisfaction. "Highest in Herbology and Charms. Honestly, Ophelia, must you keep making the rest of us look academically questionable?"
"I wasn't trying to," Fila replied, though the small smile tugging at her lips betrayed her pleasure.
June snorted. "She absolutely was."
"I absolutely was not."
Stella looped an arm loosely around Fila's shoulders as they drifted toward a quieter corner of the tower. Around them, the party surged on in waves of laughter, music, and celebratory chaos. Seventh years stood clustered near the center now, a few already looking suspiciously emotional despite determined attempts at composure.
"You did brilliantly," Stella said, her voice softening. "I'm proud of you."
The words landed gently, warmly.
"Thank you," Fila said.
June leaned dramatically against the wall. "And what about me? I survived Defensive Theory."
Stella tilted her head. "June, you set your sleeve on fire during practice."
"And then tried to blame the candle."
"It was a convincing argument."
Fila laughed.
Stella shook her head with fond disbelief. "Unbelievable, both of you."
A sudden burst of golden sparks exploded near the ceiling as someone misjudged the enthusiasm of a celebratory charm. Applause followed anyway. Thunderbird energy had never been particularly concerned with restraint.
Stella glanced toward the crowd. "Strange night."
"It is," Fila agreed.
"Watching them leave…" Stella's gaze lingered on the seventh years. "It never gets easier."
Fila studied the older students more carefully now. Beneath the laughter, something fragile flickered. The awareness that this was the last time. Last tower party. Last late night laughter echoing through these stone walls. Last everything.
Endings carried weight.
"You'll be here next year," Fila said.
"Yes." Stella smiled faintly. "But they won't."
June shifted uncharacteristically quieter. "Feels unfair."
Fila looked at the seventh year, and she felt like she had to do something. She grabbed her wand and started.
It started slowly, flower appearing out of cracks in the walls, then wines crawled on the ceiling.
At first, no one noticed.
The party carried on in its bright, careless rhythm. Laughter rose. Music pulsed. Glasses clinked. But along the stone walls, something subtle stirred. From the smallest fractures, where age had left its quiet signatures, tiny green shoots emerged.
A single white blossom opened near the base of a banner.
Then another.
Vines followed, delicate and fluid, tracing the lines of the tower as though they had always belonged there. They curled upward with gentle intent, threading across stone, weaving between lantern light, drifting higher along the ceiling.
June blinked.
"…Fila?"
The music faltered as attention shifted.
Conversations stilled one by one, curiosity rippling outward faster than any shouted announcement. Heads turned. Eyes lifted. The golden lantern glow now caught on fresh leaves, petals, tendrils of living green unfurling overhead.
Fila stood near the center of the room, wand raised but expression calm, focused not with strain but with quiet clarity.
The vines spread wider, crisscrossing the ceiling in graceful arcs. Buds formed along their lengths, swelling gently before bursting into bloom. Gold. Soft violet. Pale blue. Colors echoing twilight, lantern light, summer skies.
A collective hush fell.
Even the seventh years stopped pretending.
Flowers cascaded now, drifting slowly through the air like fragrant snowfall. No violent eruption. No overwhelming spectacle. Just a steady, breathtaking expansion of life, transforming the tower into something suspended between celebration and dream.
Someone laughed softly.
Someone else gasped.
Stella's hand rose instinctively to her mouth, eyes wide with stunned delight.
Fila lowered her wand slightly.
The magic settled, blooming into stillness. Vines rested along the stone like living garlands. Petals covered the floor in soft, luminous layers. The lantern light filtered through leaves, casting shifting patterns of gold and green across every face in the room.
Silence lingered.
Then—
Applause.
Not loud at first.
But growing.
Warm. Genuine. Rolling through the tower with a force entirely different from earlier cheers. Seventh years smiled with something raw and grateful in their expressions. A few no longer bothered hiding their tears.
June stared at Fila.
"…Okay," she breathed. "That was unfairly beautiful."
Fila smiled faintly, a touch shy now that the moment had fully landed.
One of the seventh year girls stepped forward, eyes shining. "Thank you," she said softly.
The words carried weight.
More than praise.
Because this was not just decoration.
It was a gift.
A memory made visible.
Stella moved to Fila's side, her voice low, thick with emotion. "Ophelia…"
Fila glanced at her. "It felt like the right thing."
Above them, petals drifted lazily through golden light.
The night celebration continued deep into the late night. Seventh years looked at the flowers and raining flowers with awe. Its wasn't about sowing of, fila just wanted them to have this as a memory in their minds.
Fila spent the last hours talking with them, about what they would do after graduation, what their favorite memory was. And of course of they had any secrets the could share. And they did, hidden chamber and passageways.
She sat surrounded by older students, listening.
Stories unfolded in overlapping layers.
Favorite professors. Catastrophic spells. Friendships formed in first year awkwardness and solidified through years of shared survival. Late night adventures. Detentions worn like badges of honor.
"Oh, there are absolutely hidden passages," a seventh year boy whispered conspiratorially.
June leaned forward instantly. "I knew it."
"Behind the third floor tapestry near the western stairwell."
"You're lying."
"I am not."
Another girl laughed. "There's a chamber beneath the old Charms corridor. No one's supposed to know about it."
Fila's eyes lit with interest. "What kind of chamber?"
"No idea. We never managed to open it."
"Yet," June corrected.
Stella, seated nearby, sighed. "Please do not encourage them."
"There's also," someone added, lowering their voice dramatically, "a staircase that only appears during thunderstorms."
"…You're joking," Elliot said.
"I am absolutely not."
The group dissolved into excited chatter.
Hidden rooms.
Secret doorways.
Fragments of castle mystery slipping freely into the night like parting gifts.
Fila listened with quiet fascination, committing every detail to memory. Ilvermorny had already revealed much to her, yet the idea that entire layers still waited unseen sent a familiar spark of curiosity through her chest.
Discovery never truly ended.
Hours passed unnoticed.
The lanterns dimmed gradually, shifting from bright gold to a softer amber glow. Outside, the sky began its slow transition toward dawn, deep violet easing into the faintest hint of blue.
Exhaustion crept in gently.
Bittersweetness followed.
Eventually, one of the seventh years rose.
"Well," he said quietly, "I suppose this is it."
Silence rippled outward once more, heavier now.
Hugs followed.
Tight. Lingering. Some steady, some visibly reluctant to release. Laughter tangled with tears. Promises made with fierce sincerity.
Fila found herself pulled into embraces she hadn't expected, warmth and gratitude pressed into the moment with surprising intensity.
"Thank you, Ophelia," the seventh year girl whispered again.
And as the first light of morning brushed against the tower windows, the celebration finally gave way to farewell.
The morning had a very special feeling. All the thunderbirds were collectively walking to the great hall. The final dinner was planned. According to older students the Headmaster would talk about the year that passed, about some students achievements.
Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, golden and clear, illuminating faces still touched by exhaustion yet brightened by anticipation. The air held that unmistakable end of year feeling, relief tangled with reflection, excitement laced with the faintest ache of goodbye.
Fila walked beside June and Calla.
June stifled a yawn. "I feel like I slept for approximately twelve seconds."
"You chose to stay until dawn," Calla reminded her.
"I stand by that decision."
"You were asleep on a pile of petals."
Fila smiled faintly.
Ahead of them, older students moved with different expressions entirely. Seventh years walked in tighter clusters, their usual confidence edged now with something quieter, inward. Some laughed. Some didn't.
All of them knew.
Inside the Great Hall, preparations had already transformed the space.
House banners hung brighter than usual, colors rich beneath the enchanted ceiling now glowing with the soft warmth of early summer morning. Long tables gleamed. The students sat down with their houses.
And not long after the Headmaster stood at his table.
Conversation dissolved almost instantly, the hall falling into that familiar attentive hush. Even first years, still new enough to find ceremony impressive rather than routine, straightened instinctively.
The Headmaster's eyes swept across the room, calm, measuring, faintly proud.
"Another year," he began, his voice carrying effortlessly through enchanted acoustics, "draws to its close."
Laughter rippled occasionally through the hall as he recalled certain… memorable incidents. A tapestry incident. A minor explosion in Potions. An unfortunate misapplication of a levitation charm involving three desks and a professor's hat.
Thunderbird table laughter was particularly loud.
Laughter rippled occasionally through the hall as he recalled certain… memorable incidents. A tapestry incident. A minor explosion in Potions. An unfortunate misapplication of a levitation charm involving three desks and a professor's hat.
Thunderbird table laughter was particularly loud.
Then came achievements.
Academic excellence.
Magical innovation.
Names echoed through the hall, each met with applause, cheers, or embarrassed disbelief.
"And finally," the Headmaster said, a subtle shift in tone drawing sharper attention, "special recognition."
Fila felt June go still beside her.
"For extraordinary aptitude, discipline, and promise beyond year level expectations…"
Oh no.
"…Miss Ophelia Grindelwald."
The world seemed to pause for half a heartbeat.
Then—
Thunder.
Applause erupted, cheers crashing through the hall with unmistakable Thunderbird enthusiasm. June nearly knocked over her goblet. Elliot whooped. Milles pounded the table like a man possessed.
Fila froze.
Heat rushed to her face.
The Headmaster smiled faintly as the hall continued its delighted uproar.
"Please stand, Miss Grindelwald."
June elbowed her.
Hard.
Fila rose, heart racing, surrounded by deafening approval and entirely unable to decide whether she wanted to vanish into the floor or laugh.
For a moment, Fila forgot how to breathe.
The Great Hall blurred at the edges, sound crashing into a distant roar despite the thunderous applause surrounding her. Faces turned. Smiles flashed. Someone near the thunderbird table even stood to clap louder.
June was beaming.
Actually beaming.
Calla looked like she might burst with pride.
Milles was still enthusiastically assaulting the table.
The Headmaster waited patiently, amusement flickering behind his composed expression.
When the applause finally softened, he continued.
"Miss Grindelwald has demonstrated remarkable proficiency across multiple disciplines, most notably Herbology and Charms, while exhibiting magical control and adaptability rare at any level of study."
Fila's ears burned.
She resisted the deeply irrational urge to sit back down and pretend none of this was happening.
"Her dedication, curiosity, and… occasional creativity," he added, with a pointed glance that triggered scattered laughter, "reflect the very spirit Ilvermorny seeks to nurture."
Now the laughter grew warmer.
Thunderbird table laughter grew louder.
Fila smiled despite herself.
"As recognition," the Headmaster said, "Ilvermorny awards Miss Grindelwald the Medal of Academic Distinction for First Year Excellence."
A small velvet box appeared in his hand.
There was a collective murmur.
Even professors leaned forward slightly.
June made a noise that could only be described as barely contained hysteria.
"Approach, Miss Grindelwald."
Walking to the staff table felt surreal.
The distance, usually insignificant, stretched impossibly long beneath hundreds of watching eyes. Petals from the previous night still clung faintly to the hem of her robes, unnoticed until now.
Professor Merrick nodded once.
Professor Thorne smiled openly.
Professor Naya's expression radiated quiet, unmistakable pride.
The Headmaster opened the box.
Inside rested a delicate silver medal, engraved with Ilvermorny's crest, its surface catching the enchanted ceiling light.
"For excellence," he said simply.
He placed it in her hands.
The metal felt cool.
The headmaster leaned down a little. "Ophelia, I happen to see what you did to the Thunderbird tower." Oh no. "Would you mind giving the hall here the same treatment?"
Filas eyes widened, she thought she was in trouble.
She nodded her head and pulled out her wand.
She swallowed, nodding once more before stepping slightly away from the staff table. The Great Hall stretched vast and watchful around her, banners suspended high above, enchanted ceiling glowing with the soft gold of morning.
So many eyes.
So much space.
Fila raised her wand.
This time, the magic answered instantly.
Not hesitant.
Not searching.
Ready.
From the ancient stone floor, life stirred. Hairline cracks, invisible moments before, welcomed slender green shoots. They emerged with gentle certainty, curling upward in delicate spirals.
Gasps echoed softly.
Along the walls, vines traced elegant paths between house banners, weaving color into stone. Leaves unfurled in smooth succession, their green luminous beneath drifting sunlight.
Fila's focus remained steady.
Breath slow.
Intent clear.
Above, tendrils reached the enchanted ceiling, spreading outward like living constellations. Buds formed along their lengths, swelling, shimmering—
Bloom.
Gold.
Silver white.
Soft blues and violets.
Flowers opened across the hall in a breathtaking cascade, colors reflecting dawn skies, summer light, quiet wonder. Petals drifted downward in slow, weightless spirals, dissolving just before touching plates, parchment, shoulders.
The floor was now looking like a garden with plenty of different flowers and bushes. From the ceiling hung wines and flowers.
Where moments before there had been polished stone and long gleaming tables, there now spread a living tapestry of green. Flowers of every shape and shade unfurled across the floor, weaving themselves between chair legs and along the edges of benches. Low bushes blossomed gently, their leaves full and vibrant, as though summer itself had taken root indoors.
Overhead, vines draped from the enchanted ceiling.
Elegant curtains of green threaded with soft blooms that swayed faintly in unseen currents. Petals drifted lazily through shafts of golden light, dissolving into nothing just before touching robes or plates.
Students stared openly, forks forgotten midair, conversations suspended in astonished stillness. Even the enchanted ceiling seemed brighter now, sunlight filtering through leaves that had not existed minutes ago.
Professor Thorne exhaled softly. "Extraordinary…"
Professor Merrick adjusted her spectacles, gaze sharp yet unmistakably impressed.
Professor Naya did not speak.
She simply watched Fila, pride written plainly in her warm, steady expression.
The Headmaster turned slowly, taking in the scene with measured satisfaction. "Ilvermorny," he said, his voice carrying through the hushed hall, "has always been a place where magic is not merely taught…"
He gestured lightly toward the blooming space.
"…but lived."
The spell finally broke.
Applause erupted like a storm.
Thunderbird cheers crashed first, loud, unrestrained, echoing against stone and leaf alike. Wampus joined quickly, followed by Horned Serpent and Pukwudgie, the hall filling with a roar of delight, disbelief, admiration.
June was on her feet.
"That's my best friend!"
Calla clapped, eyes shining.
Elliot looked stunned.
Milles appeared spiritually overwhelmed.
Theo shook his head slowly, a reluctant smile tugging free.
Fila stood at the center of it all, wand lowered now, heart racing beneath the thunder of approval. Heat flooded her cheeks, the magnitude of the moment crashing over her in delayed waves.
It had not felt difficult.
It had felt…
Natural.
Alive.
The magic settled gently around the hall, vines resting, blossoms swaying softly as the applause rolled on.
Not just celebration now.
But awe.
And somewhere within the roaring Great Hall, amid petals and golden light, the year drew quietly toward its final breath.
The dinner continue slowly, but at last it was over. Students hugged and wlaked slowly out of the hall. Fila who was walking with her friends felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned and saw a familiar ginger girl.
"Hi Amanda"
Amanda smiled, "Hello Thunder flower."
The name has gotten longer then she thought.
"what you did was absolutely amazing Fila, the seventh years in horned serpent were so happy to see it on their last day." She said, and apparently the other houses like the display a lot as well. "My brother who is a seventh year told me to say thank you from him." She explained.
Fila was blushing a little, she didn't know that just a little display could make people happy like this.
Amanda pulled her into a hug, which was unexpected since they had only really talked four times at most. But it was warm, and soft. She hugged her back.
"You are so blasting cute" she heard a whisper in her ear, and after she heard that Amanda pulled away and walked with her group. But before disappearing into the crowd she turned and winked at Fila.
Fila remained completely still.
For half a heartbeat.
Then another.
June's eyes widened to a degree that suggested imminent medical concern.
Calla froze mid step.
Milles, walking just ahead, turned back. "Why did everyone stop—"
He saw Fila's face.
"…Oh."
Fila's cheeks burned.
Not the mild warmth of embarrassment.
Full, unmistakable, catastrophic crimson.
"I—" she began.
"I told you, I told you!" June screamed out.
Calla beside her was beaming, "What did she whisper Fila!?"
They tried getting as much as possible, but Fila was getting a sensory overload right now. The attention from all students combined with what Amanda just did. I was all just a bit too much.
Fila stared at the retreating figure of Amanda, heart behaving in a manner that felt entirely unreasonable. The hug still lingered, warm and unexpected. And that whisper—
Merlin.
June turned back to her, grinning like she'd just been handed the greatest scandal of the century. "Thunder flower."
Fila covered her face. "Don't."
June looped an arm dramatically through Fila's. "Well, well, Ophelia Grindelwald."
"June…"
"Our little thunder flower is causing emotional chaos across houses."
The group laughed as they made their way back to the tower to get their things.
They climbed the stairs toward Thunderbird tower, petals from the previous night still faintly clinging to corners of stone. The tower itself looked peacefully chaotic, doors open, voices spilling between rooms, the unmistakable disorder of students packing with wildly varying degrees of efficiency.
June pushed open their dormitory door.
Clothing. Books. Half packed trunks.
Disaster.
"Perfect," June said.
Calla began folding with immediate competence.
Fila moved toward her bed, fingers brushing absentmindedly over the silver medal now resting atop neatly stacked parchment. Sunlight streamed through the window, catching the metal, sending brief flashes across the room.
First year.
Finished.
She opened her trunk slowly, placing the medal inside with unusual care.
"So," June said.
Fila closed her eyes. "June…"
"What did she whisper?"
Calla looked up instantly. "Yes, I'd like to know that too."
"It was nothing."
"Fila."
"Ophelia."
Silence.
June narrowed her eyes.
Calla crossed her arms.
Fila lasted approximately three seconds.
"…She said I was…" Fila hesitated.
June leaned forward.
Calla leaned forward.
"…cute."
The explosion was immediate.
"I KNEW IT!"
June collapsed backward onto her bed in triumphant hysteria.
Calla laughed, delighted. "That's adorable."
Fila dropped onto her mattress, face buried in her hands. "Please stop talking."
"Oh absolutely not," June said. "This is the most important development of the year."
The two roommates kept teasing her throughout the whole time that they were packing. This world really was cruel.
And now they stood at the sign posts, everything packed into luggage.
"So this is it." June said.
A moment of silence followed.
"We will be back before you know it." Calla said pulling them both into a hug.
Fila didn't say anything, but the flowers coming out of the ground at her feet said a lot.
"You both have to promise to write a lot," Calla continued.
June tightened the hug immediately.
"I am absolutely not surviving the summer without dramatic letters," she said. "Weekly updates. Minimum."
"Weekly?" Elliot said. "That's ambitious."
"I require details," June insisted. "Everything. Manor life. Training. Any mysterious aristocratic chaos."
Fila smiled faintly as Calla held them both, the moment settling into that fragile space between excitement and reluctance.
Around the signposts, the grounds bustled with departure.
And just like that, they said their goodbyes. Only Theo and Fila were going to New York.
The portkey tore the world and put it back together on the familiar street.
And ones again, Rowan and Elsbeth welcomed her home.