The noise from downstairs was impossible to ignore.
Morwenna heard it the moment she woke. Laughter and overlapping voices filled the manor, punctuated by the sharp clatter of silver against ceramic. Above it all rang Saoirse's unmistakable, boisterous laughter.
The commotion carried through the high stone corridors and seeped beneath the heavy oak doors of the nursery. Even the portraits seemed curious, leaning out of their gilded frames to see what was happening below.
Morwenna climbed out of bed, her bare feet touching the cool floorboards. She barely noticed the chill. Her clothes for the day had already been laid out on the chair: a soft gray T-shirt with a small cartoon fox on the front.
Cinder, she realized with a little smile.
It was paired with blue denim shorts that ended just above her knees. Both pieces felt light and comfortable, nothing like the heavy silk and smooth velvet she usually wore.
She dressed herself, managing to pull the shirt over her head the right way around on her first attempt. The shorts were trickier. She stepped into them backward and only realized her mistake when she searched for pockets that weren't there. After stepping out of them, she turned them around and tried again.
This time, she succeeded.
Cinder watched from the bed, his russet ears turning forward with interest. His tail gave one heavy thump against the wool blankets before he jumped down to join her.
Morwenna found her trainers beside the door and spent the next five minutes wrestling with the laces. They were still too big, and the strings felt awkward between her small fingers, but she persisted until she managed to tie a bow. It was lopsided and loose, yet it held.
She stood, tested her weight on the rubber soles, and nodded to herself.
Satisfied, she headed out. Cinder followed close behind, his claws clicking rhythmically against the stone corridor.
The morning room was filled with the best kind of chaos.
The table was covered with dishes Morwenna had never seen before. Small bowls held steaming soup with a rich, fragrant broth. Plates of fried rice were piled high with egg and brightly colored vegetables, each grain separate and glistening in the morning light.
Delicate dumplings were arranged in neat rows, their pleated edges carefully shaped and their surfaces sprinkled with savory seasonings.
There were noodles coated in a glossy brown sauce, along with smaller plates of vegetables she couldn't name. Some were green and curled, while others were pale and crisp. At the center of the table sat a large platter of sliced pancakes drizzled with dark sauce.
Saoirse was already seated, waving a pair of wooden sticks in the air.
"Look, Morwenna. Chopsticks."
Morwenna climbed onto her high stool and examined the sticks in her aunt's hand before looking at the identical pair beside her own plate. She picked them up carefully.
They felt strange in her fingers. The wood was light and smooth, almost slippery against her skin. She tried to hold them the way Saoirse did, positioning one between her thumb and forefinger and the other between her thumb and middle finger.
The sticks crossed immediately.
She adjusted her grip and tried again, but they slipped out of position and clattered against her porcelain bowl. One fell onto the table. She picked it up, repositioned both sticks, and tried to grab a dumpling.
The dumpling slipped free, and the sticks crossed again. It dropped back into the bowl with a soft splash.
Morwenna's jaw tightened.
She tried again.
The same thing happened.
Again.
Still no luck.
By now, the dumpling was slightly mangled, its savory filling peeking through the torn wrapper.
Jane watched her daughter's efforts. After the fifth failed attempt, she reached into her pocket and took out a paper napkin and a small elastic band. She had started carrying them two days ago, anticipating exactly this sort of difficulty.
"Let me show you something."
Jane took Morwenna's chopsticks and folded the napkin around their upper ends, securing them with the elastic band. The makeshift aid held the sticks together at the top while leaving their tips free to move.
"Now try. It's a little training aid."
Morwenna took them back and slipped her fingers into position. This time, the sticks stayed where they belonged. The band kept them aligned, allowing her to focus on opening and closing them instead of struggling to control both sticks.
She reached for a piece of dumpling.
The tips closed around it.
She lifted it.
The dumpling stayed in place.
Morwenna stared at the food between the sticks, her green eyes wide with surprise.
"I did it."
Saoirse let out a triumphant whoop that rang through the room.
"She did it! Three years old and already mastering chopsticks. I was at least seven before I could manage that!"
Morwenna ate the dumpling with immense satisfaction. The filling was warm, savory, and delicious. She swallowed and immediately reached for another.
Watching from the sideboard, Tilly released a breath of profound relief. His large ears relaxed from their previously flattened position, and his expression brightened as he saw the little miss enjoying the meal he had worked so hard to prepare.
Breakfast continued with one discovery after another. Morwenna tried the dumplings, fried rice, and a small bowl of noodle soup that required a spoon because she wasn't quite ready to tackle soup with chopsticks.
She asked about everything she ate.
"What is this?" she asked, pointing at a small dish of fermented vegetables.
"Kimchi," Seraphina explained. "Fermented vegetables."
Morwenna tried a bite.
Her eyes widened at the sudden, spicy heat, and she quickly reached for her water.
After recovering, she pointed to another dish.
"What is this?"
"Spring rolls," Jane answered. "They are from Vietnam. Dip them in the sauce, petite."
Morwenna carefully dipped one into the sauce and took a bite. The wrapper was crisp, and the filling was delicious.
She reached for another.
"What is this?"
"Okonomiyaki," Saoirse said. "It's Japanese. Basically, a pancake with all sorts of things mixed in. Very practical."
Morwenna tried a piece and decided she liked it. She ate two more before moving on to the next dish.
By the time breakfast ended, she was full and happy, with a fine dusting of rice scattered across her shirt. Cinder had settled beneath her chair, doing an excellent job of cleaning up anything that fell to the floor. His ears turned constantly as he tracked every movement of food.
Saoirse pushed her chair back. Her expression changed, and the cheerful atmosphere around the table quieted.
"Right. Time."
Morwenna looked up at her.
"Time for what?"
Saoirse's grin softened into something gentler.
"Time for me to go, little bird. I told you yesterday, remember? I'm going travelling."
Morwenna went still.
She remembered. But knowing something would happen and watching it happen were two different things. She slowly set down her chopsticks.
"Come on," Saoirse said, rising from her chair. "Walk with me to the meadow. You can see me off properly."
They went outside together into the cool, clear morning. The sky was a pale, washed-out blue, stretching endlessly above the manor grounds. Dew still clung to the garden paths and grass, leaving small, dark prints beneath Morwenna's trainers as they walked.
Cinder bounded ahead, his russet fur bright against the green. After running a short distance, he circled back and nudged Morwenna's hand before trotting forward again.
Saoirse walked beside her niece, keeping her pace slow enough for the child's shorter legs. Neither spoke. Everything that needed to be said had already been said yesterday.
The creature meadow opened before them, a wide expanse of grass bordered by ancient, dark trees.
Three Abraxan horses waited near its edge.
They were enormous, far larger than any horse Morwenna had seen in her books. Their golden coats shimmered in the morning light, and their folded wings rested against their powerful bodies. The feathers caught the sun with a burnished, almost metallic glow.
Morwenna stopped at the edge of the meadow, her green eyes widening.
"Horses."
"Abraxans," Saoirse told her. "Magical creatures. Very fast, very clever, and very loyal to the people they choose."
The largest of the three, a magnificent horse with a white blaze on its forehead, lifted its head and looked directly at Saoirse. A deep, rumbling sound came from its throat.
Saoirse crossed the grass and pressed her forehead against the horse's muzzle.
Its wings rustled, opening slightly as they caught the sunlight. Warm breath misted in the cool morning air.
"I will miss you too," Saoirse whispered.
She stroked the horse's cheek for a moment before turning back toward Morwenna. The little girl had remained at the edge of the meadow. The horses were beautiful, but their enormous size made her hesitant to approach.
Saoirse crossed the grass and knelt in front of her, bringing herself down to the child's level. Dew soaked into her trousers, but she paid it no attention.
"A year," she said. "I will be back before you turn four. I promised."
Morwenna studied her aunt's face, taking in her dark hair streaked with silver and the eyes that were usually full of laughter. Today, Saoirse's smile was gentler than usual.
"Promise."
"I promise."
Saoirse pulled her into a quick, fierce hug. Morwenna wrapped her arms around her aunt's neck and held on. For a moment, neither moved. The child could feel Saoirse's heartbeat, fast and strong against her chest.
Then Saoirse released her and stood.
She walked back to the Abraxan without looking over her shoulder and mounted in one smooth movement, settling onto the horse's back with the ease of long practice.
The Abraxan spread its wings.
They were enormous, each one longer than the carriage and extending far beyond the garden paths. Golden and white feathers caught the morning light until the wings seemed to glow.
"Buh-bye, little monster! Be good. See you later!"
The Abraxan took three powerful running steps before lifting into the air.
Morwenna watched as they rose above the meadow. Saoirse raised one hand in farewell while the horse climbed higher, its great wings beating steadily against the sky.
They grew smaller against the pale blue until Saoirse became a distant speck.
Then she disappeared entirely.
Morwenna remained at the edge of the meadow, staring at the empty sky.
A hand settled on her shoulder.
She hadn't heard Jack approach, but she recognized his touch. For a moment, she leaned back against his leg, drawing quiet comfort from his familiar presence.
"She will come back," Jack said.
"I know."
Even so, Morwenna kept watching the sky. The place where Saoirse had disappeared was nothing but empty blue now.
Jack noticed the brief flicker in her expression, a sharp, unmistakable longing. It appeared for only a moment before she hid it, but he had seen enough.
She wanted to be up there.
He said nothing, though he quietly filed the observation away for later.
They stood together for another minute. The two remaining Abraxans had returned to grazing, their golden wings folded neatly against their sides. One lifted its head and watched Morwenna for a while before lowering it again.
She looked back at the horse, then turned and took Jack's hand.
"Inside now."
They walked back through the garden. The dew was drying from the grass, and the morning light had grown warmer as noon approached. Morwenna's trainers left small prints in the soft earth.
At the entrance, she stopped and looked up at the sky one last time.
Then she went inside.
The afternoon settled into a quieter rhythm.
Jane sat with Morwenna in the morning room, a stack of books spread across the low table. Cinder was curled up on the rug, his amber eyes half-closed.
Morwenna picked up a book about a bear visiting the city. She had chosen it herself, carefully pulling it from the stack after considering the covers.
"Read."
Jane opened the book and began, reading slowly enough for Morwenna to follow each word while showing her the illustrations.
The bear took a bus into the city. He saw tall buildings, became lost, and eventually found his way back with the help of a friendly pigeon.
Morwenna interrupted the story several times with questions.
"Why bear lost?"
"He wasn't paying attention to where he was going."
"Why pigeon help?"
"Because pigeons can be kind, too. And this one knew the city well."
Morwenna considered that before asking another question.
"What is city?"
"A place with lots of buildings, people, cars, buses, and shops."
"Like London?"
Jane paused briefly.
"Yes. Like London."
"Will I go to London?"
"When you are four."
Morwenna nodded and turned the page.
They read another book, then another. Jane kept her voice steady while Morwenna absorbed each new detail. She asked about traffic lights and pedestrian crossings, supermarkets and playgrounds, and everything else that caught her attention.
Halfway through the fourth book, Morwenna looked up.
"Maman."
"Yes?"
"Yesterday Dada said I go to Hogwarts."
Jane set the book down.
"Yes. You will go to Hogwarts when you are eleven. It's a school where witches and wizards learn magic."
Morwenna nodded.
"Dada also said I will go with Harry."
Jane felt something twist in her chest, but she kept her voice calm.
"Yes. Harry is your cousin. His mother was Lily, my cousin. That makes Harry my cousin's son, and that makes him your cousin, too."
Morwenna's brow furrowed.
"Cousin?"
"He is family. Just like Raphaël and Luelle are your uncle and aunt. Harry is family, too."
Morwenna thought about this, her small fingers tracing the edge of the book.
She knew about uncles and aunts. They came and went, hugged her, brought her presents, and read her stories. They were family. They belonged to her.
"Where Harry?"
Jane was quiet for a moment before answering.
"Harry lives with other family. They are mundane, and they don't know about magic."
"Why?"
"Because the people who were supposed to look after him placed him there. We tried to bring him here, so he could be with us and learn about magic and who he is. But we couldn't. The people who took him in made sure we couldn't reach him."
Morwenna's eyes grew very still.
She understood separation. After her grandparents had left, she had watched the Floo every morning for weeks, hoping to see them return. She had counted the days on her fingers, waiting for Gran-ma and Gran-pa to come home.
"He is alone?"
Jane hesitated before answering.
"No, he isn't alone. He has family there, even if they don't understand him. And when he is eleven, he will come to Hogwarts. We will see him then."
Morwenna held up her fingers and began to count.
Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven.
Eight fingers.
That was a lot.
"Eight years from now," Jane confirmed gently.
Morwenna looked at her mother's face. There was something heavy behind Jane's green eyes, a sadness she recognized even if she couldn't fully understand it. It reminded her of how she had felt when she watched the Floo after her grandparents left, only to find it cold and empty every morning.
"Maman sad?"
Jane blinked, caught off guard by the question.
For a moment, she considered pretending otherwise. But Morwenna was observant, and she had always seemed to notice more than people expected of her.
"A little," Jane admitted. "I wish I could see him now. I wish he could be here with us, growing up alongside you."
Morwenna thought about that.
She imagined a boy with her mother's green eyes, living in a house where nobody knew about magic or understood who he really was. She thought about him waiting eight years before he could come to Hogwarts and meet his family.
Then she reached out and patted Jane's hand, just as she had once comforted Tilly when he worried about a cake.
"He will come," Morwenna said. "When he is eleven."
Jane smiled, her heart aching and warming at the same time.
"Yes. He will."
"Good."
Morwenna picked up the book and settled against her mother's side again.
"Read more."
Jane opened the book and continued the story.
===
There's image below