Daphne Greengrass walked alone along the lakeshore.
She kicked a pebble absentmindedly, watching it tumble into the water with a soft plop and send out tiny ripples.
Her brilliant golden hair bounced with every step, eye-catching even in the darkness.
The lawn in the distance was buzzing with noise.
Long queues snaked around the fire dragon, crowds packed under the Thunderbird's tree, and the unicorns were surrounded so tightly you couldn't squeeze through.
Laughter, gasps, and the Cupids' shouts keeping order all blended together, loud enough to carry across the grounds.
Daphne didn't join them.
The moment she had spotted that figure in the sky, she knew the fireworks and those magical creatures were Lucien's work—just like the adorable alchemical Cupids.
She didn't know whether he had actually raised the creatures or conjured them with that impossibly advanced Transfiguration.
The former would technically break Ministry law, but Daphne came from a pure-blood family with Greengrasses in high Ministry positions. She had understood one truth since she was very small—
Rules were written by the strong, by those who held power.
And Daphne was utterly certain that Lucien would one day be the kind of person for whom even the rules stepped aside.
If she really wanted photos with the magical creatures, she could just ask Lucien privately later.
No need to line up like an idiot the way Malfoy had.
Thinking of Malfoy made the corner of her mouth twitch upward.
The look on his face when that love letter was read aloud in public had been… spectacular.
She had hidden in the shadows and nearly burst out laughing.
But after the laughter came a sting of envy.
At least someone had dared to send one.
She hadn't even managed to deliver hers.
Just thinking about it made Daphne's mood sink again.
She had asked Malfoy to find out and only then learned the truth: Lucien had programmed the Cupids to politely refuse any letters or cards addressed to him.
"Sigh—"
Daphne let out a sigh far too heavy for a girl her age.
Her mother had told her: when it comes to love, you must be patient and never rush.
When she grew up, she would be prettier, smarter, and far more worthy to stand beside the person she loved.
But—
As she walked, Daphne crouched down by the water's edge.
Using the firelight from the sky, she quietly studied her reflection on the lake's surface.
The burning flames turned the water into shimmering ripples of light and shadow, illuminating her delicate but still childish little face.
She tilted her head left, then right.
"My eyes could be a little bigger…" she muttered. "Nose a bit straighter, lips…"
The more she looked, the more she felt every feature could still be improved.
Thinking about becoming prettier naturally brought the Fountain of Beauty to mind…
The one Lucien had built.
Daphne tilted her head, staring seriously at her reflection.
What exactly wasn't Lucien good at?
Transfiguration—he had published a paper. Alchemy—he had built a fountain. Charms, Potions, Herbology… nothing seemed to challenge him.
She couldn't think of a single thing.
She also thought of her great-grandfather—actually her maternal great-grandfather—who had once been a world-famous alchemist.
It was said he and her great-grandmother had met as students and fallen in love at first sight.
Remembering that only made Daphne more depressed.
She knew Lucien was brilliant—magic came to him instantly, far beyond the clumsy, slow-witted kids their age.
But in certain areas…
Daphne honestly didn't know whether he simply wasn't interested, or whether he was… "not skilled"? "Didn't understand"?
She had heard he met an impossibly beautiful girl at Beauxbatons—one several years older, clearly at the age when beauty bloomed fullest…
Daphne stared at her reflection, thoughts drifting farther away.
Gurgle—
A bubble rose on the water.
Daphne ignored it.
Gurgle gurgle—
More bubbles appeared.
She blinked, still not reacting—
SPLASH!
A long, slippery black shadow shot out of the water straight toward her face!
"Ah!"
Daphne instinctively fell backward, landing hard on the grass.
The next second she saw what it really was.
A long, sucker-lined, slimy tentacle hovered right in front of her nose, swaying gently as if saying hello.
Daphne swatted it away irritably.
"You scared me half to death!"
The tentacle didn't mind being slapped. It swayed again, then gently settled on the grass beside her, suckers opening and closing.
Daphne rolled her eyes and poked the tentacle.
It jerked sharply as if tickled, pulled back a little, then cautiously reached out again to brush the back of her hand.
This was the giant squid that lived in the Black Lake.
Slytherin students knew it especially well—because the common room sat beneath the lake, and they often saw the huge creature drifting lazily past the windows.
Sometimes when you were tired from homework and looked up, you'd spot a tentacle pressed against the glass, suckers pulsing like it was saying, "Hey, what are you staring at?"
Over time, a strange, silent friendship had formed between the Slytherins and the giant squid.
Daphne poked the tentacle again—this time from the side, lightly tickling it.
The tentacle twitched violently, clearly ticklish, but stubbornly refused to retreat back into the water. It seemed to enjoy playing with the young witch.
Watching the tentacle writhe around made Daphne laugh despite herself.
"Hehe. Next term when I come back, I'll introduce you to Astoria. She should be sorted into Slytherin too—after all, she's my sister and carries Greengrass blood. Though honestly, the Slytherin common room is way too damp, built underwater… what was the Founder thinking…"
"When Astoria comes to Hogwarts she'll finally see all these magical things with her own eyes. It'll be so much more fun than the letters and photos I sent her. And now Hogwarts even has its own Fountain of Beauty—that girl won't keep begging to go to Beauxbatons anymore. Mom would never let her go abroad alone anyway. So in a way we should thank Lucien. I think Astoria will really like having Lucien as a big brother. They both love reading so much…"
As she spoke, Daphne's voice grew softer and softer, and her smile slowly faded.
Her little sister Astoria had been frail since childhood and needed constant care. She couldn't stay outside for long and spent most of her time in her room reading.
This "weakness" came from a curse hidden deep in the family bloodline. Mother always said it would get better when she grew up.
But Daphne had secretly seen her mother alone in the study, poring over book after book about curses—completely lost in them, brow furrowed with worry, never noticing the little girl watching from the doorway.
Daphne hugged her knees and gazed up at the fireworks lighting the night sky.
When she grows up… will it really get better?