"Now that you've finished your first assignment," Nathael said from the suite's sitting area, hands in his pockets and a smile barely touching the corners of his lips, "comes the practical part."
Hermione and Draco, seated across from him, looked up in unison. Celestia, lounging on the sofa back with one paw dangling elegantly, opened one eye.
"Practical?" Hermione asked.
"Exactly," Nathael said, walking toward them with calm steps. "Not everything is learned from reading. Sometimes, theory only prepares you for real chaos. And today… the chaos is in Kingston Falls."
"Kingston Falls?" Draco repeated, frowning. "Is that in New York?"
"No," Nathael said. "It's a few hours by car. There, we'll have… a mission. To retrieve a magical creature."
"A mission?" Hermione asked, eyes gleaming.
"I won't tell you what magical creature we must find," Nathael said, crossing his arms. "That's part of the test too—just like with the troll at Hogwarts. We'll have to act according to the moment. But for now…" He gestured toward the window. "We're going for a walk. To breathe this city's air. To see how the Muggle world lives—without wands, without spells, without magic… at least, none that we can see."
Celestia purred softly.
"Finally. I was starting to feel the hotel air was too perfumed."
They all stood as one. Hermione hurried to her room to change, followed by Draco, who walked with perfect posture and eyes fixed on the floor.
Nathael went to his room. When he emerged minutes later, he no longer wore his usual open linen shirt. This time, the white fabric was neatly buttoned to the collar, paired with flawless black trousers, dark leather boots, and an elegant trench coat that gave him an air somewhere between academic and mysterious.
Celestia appeared shortly after. She'd abandoned her hat—"the weather is too humid for excessive elegance"—but now wore a deep blue wool scarf and a short velvet jacket, tailored to her form, with silver trim that shimmered under the hallway's artificial light.
"Ready?" Nathael asked, adjusting his shirt cuffs.
Hermione nodded. She wore a red sweater, dark jeans, and a thick scarf fluttering softly in the AC breeze. Draco, meanwhile, had chosen more aristocratic attire: a fine wool blazer, starched white shirt, immaculate trousers, and a long coat that looked straight out of a London fashion catalog. No robes, no magical symbols. Just… style.
"Ready," Draco said with a slight bow.
They stepped into the hotel corridor, where silence was broken only by the echo of their footsteps. But before reaching the elevator, a small figure materialized from a side door.
It was a boy—blond, with large eyes and an expression caught between anxious and lonely. He couldn't have been more than ten. A red backpack hung from one shoulder, and he seemed torn between heading to reception or staying put.
Seeing the four of them—two teens, a young man, and a cat in a coat—the boy hesitated. He bit his lip, stepped forward, then back. Finally, in a tentative voice, he asked:
"Excuse me… do you know where the nearest toy store is?"
The four stopped.
Nathael studied him—not with suspicion, but with calm that said, I see you, and you're no threat. Hermione's expression softened instantly. Draco frowned but said nothing. Celestia watched the boy with her sapphire eyes, as if reading something beyond his words.
"I'm sorry," Nathael said quietly. "It's our first time in the city. We don't know the area."
The boy nodded, disappointed but trying to hide it.
"Oh… okay. Thanks anyway."
"Are you alone?" Nathael asked—not judgmentally, just curiously.
The boy blinked. For an instant, his face tightened. Then, forcing a smile, he said:
"My dad's… busy with work."
Nathael didn't press. He simply nodded.
"I'm sorry to hear that."
Just then, Celestia stepped closer and, without a sound, brushed her head against Nathael's leg—a subtle but unmistakable signal: Help him.
Nathael knew that language better than any spell.
He turned back to the boy.
"Hey… even though we don't know the city, I can help you look. At least until we find one."
The boy's eyes widened.
"Really?"
"Really," Nathael said.
Hermione, who'd been silent until now, smiled.
"Yes. We can help you too."
Draco said nothing—but didn't object. He merely adjusted his coat and looked toward the street, as if the matter didn't concern him… yet he didn't walk away.
The boy hesitated. He looked at the four of them. Then at the floor. Then at Celestia, who watched him with an expression that could only be described as, I've seen empires fall, but I like you.
"Okay," he said finally. "Thank you."
"What's your name?" Nathael asked.
"Kevin McCallister."
"Kevin," Nathael repeated, nodding. "I'm Nathael. This is Hermione, Draco, and Celestia."
Kevin looked at the cat, impressed.
"She's very pretty."
"Don't tell her that too much, or she'll start boasting," Nathael said, smiling.
Kevin didn't fully understand—but nodded as if he did.
They left the hotel together—a curious group: a lost Muggle boy, two magic students from opposing worlds, a treasure hunter, and a cat in a scarf.
They walked through Manhattan's streets, past Christmas lights, shop music, and the constant hum of a city that never sleeps. Kevin spoke enthusiastically, asking where they were from.
"We're from England," Hermione said. "But Nathael's from Germany."
"Berlin?" Kevin asked.
"Not exactly," Nathael said. "From a valley… far from cities."
"And why do you sound different?" Kevin asked, looking at Draco and Hermione. "You sound like British TV, but he"—he pointed at Nathael—"sounds… softer."
"Because we grew up in different places," Draco said—for the first time, his voice not cold, but… curious. "In England, every region has its accent. He's foreign. We're not."
Kevin nodded, fascinated.
"In Chicago, people talk differently depending on the neighborhood too."
Hermione smiled and whispered to Draco,
"It's the same in the magical world, really."
Draco looked at her, surprised she'd included him so easily.
Then, as if by magic—or the luck of being in a city where everything is within reach—they found a massive toy store: windows filled with trains, dolls, robots, and giant stuffed animals.
"That's it!" Kevin exclaimed, eyes shining.
He turned to them.
"Thanks. I don't need you to come in. I can go alone."
Nathael studied him a moment. Then nodded.
"Alright. If you need anything… ask someone in uniform. Never a stranger."
Kevin nodded, smiling wider now.
"Thanks, Nathael."
And he ran inside.
The four stood on the sidewalk, watching him vanish among the toys.
"He's brave," Hermione said. "And very talkative."
"Sometimes," Nathael said, "language is the best protection."
Draco said nothing—but his gaze was no longer disdainful. It was… thoughtful.
"Shall we go?" Nathael asked.
They walked in silence to Central Park. Night had fully fallen, and the park glowed like a dream. On the ice rink, dozens of people—children, teens, couples—glided to soft music, lights reflecting on the ice as if they skated among stars.
They sat on a nearby bench, Celestia nestled between Nathael and Hermione, Draco beside them, elbows on his knees.
"When I was a child," Nathael said, gazing at the rink, "my mother took me to Muggle cities in Germany—Leipzig, Dresden, Hamburg. She told us magic shouldn't isolate us from the world that sustains it. That understanding Muggles… is learning to see magic even where it doesn't exist."
He paused, a nostalgic smile on his lips.
"One winter, in Hamburg—Celestia and I, seven years old—we came to a rink like this. I already knew how to skate. But she…"
Celestia huffed.
"That was a trap. You told me it was enchanted ice—that I wouldn't fall."
"It was," Nathael said, laughing. "But it only worked if you knew how to keep your balance."
"I fell seven times," Celestia said, offended dignity in her voice. "And you laughed every time."
"Because you were adorable," Nathael said. "Like a snowflake with blue eyes and a terrible temper."
Hermione laughed. Draco even managed a small smile.
"And on the eighth try," Nathael continued, "she got up, shook the snow from her fur, and skated from one end to the other without falling. And she told me, 'Now it's your turn, treasure hunter.'"
"I won," Celestia said.
"Of course you did," Nathael said. "You always win."
The night breeze blew gently, carrying laughter, the crunch of ice, and distant music.
Hermione looked at Draco.
"Did you… skate?"
Draco shook his head.
"At the manor, we had a frozen lake. But it wasn't for… recreation. It was for training. Balance. Control. Precision."
"Sounds boring," Celestia said.
"It was," Draco admitted, half-smiling. "But… maybe it would've been better with company."
Nathael looked at them both. He said nothing. He didn't need to.
Because on that bench, under New York's lights, two worlds that had been divided for centuries by prejudice, blood, and pride… had touched. And they hadn't shattered.
They'd recognized each other.
"Tomorrow," Nathael said after a while, "we'll go to Kingston Falls."
"We're ready," Hermione said.
"Of course we are," Draco said.
Celestia stretched, her scarf fluttering slightly.
"And I… am going to sleep well tonight. Because if there's a magical creature in that town, it'd better not cost me my rest."
Nathael stood, stretching his arms.
"Then let's head back to the hotel. Tomorrow will be a long day."
They walked back in silence. But it wasn't the uneasy silence of before. It was the comfortable silence of those who now knew each other… and trusted.