The late afternoon sun filtered softly through the tall windows of the Paris White Manor's study, casting golden light across the polished wooden desk. Eira sat poised, her quill gliding smoothly over creamy parchment as she carefully composed a letter.
It had been three weeks since the end of her second year at Beauxbâtons, The manor was calm, with only the gentle rustling of the garden outside and the faint murmur of the city beyond the walls.
Eira paused for a moment; after days of continuous work on the family's affairs, she needed a moment of rest. She reflected on the memories of last summer—the quiet strolls along the Seine, the effortless laughter, and Fleur's mischievous smile that had stayed with her through the school year.
So, she decided to invite Fleur again, just like she had done last year.
She dipped her quill in ink once more, finishing the letter:
*********
"Dearest Fleur,
The summer has been slow to bloom, and I was reminded of last year's summer holiday as we both had an eventful journey here in Paris. Would you honor me once again with your company? Like last year, I wish to explore the city in quiet rebellion—dressed as muggles, lost among the streets, discovering new delights and old charms alike.
There is so much to see, so many small pleasures to share, and I cannot imagine a better companion than you.
Yours,
Eira"
**********
Sealing the letter with a delicate blossom-shaped wax stamp, she summoned a small, enchanted bird that fluttered from her hand, disappearing out the window toward Fleur's home.
********
Three days later, just as the morning light warmed the garden terraces of the White Manor, Fleur arrived with her usual radiant smile. Her summer dress was simple yet elegant—a perfect blend of muggle style and subtle magic that shimmered faintly only to Eira's eyes.
"Eira," Fleur breathed, "little bunny, did you already miss me? It's okay—I came to accompany my little princess as a knight in shining armor would."
Eira laughed, the sound bright and genuine. "Then let us embark on a journey, my beautiful knight. I want you to protect me, as I feel bored because of ruling this empire."
"Aye aye, my empress. This knight is ready to serve."
As they giggled at this moment of little joy and jokes,
they set out hand in hand, slipping into their chosen muggle clothes—soft linens and casual shoes that allowed them to walk freely without drawing undue attention. The city greeted them with the scent of fresh bread and blooming flowers, the air alive with promise.
********
Their first stop was a small ice cream shop nestled near the Seine, where the vibrant flavors of strawberry and pistachio awaited. Sitting on a weathered bench overlooking the river, they savored each bite, exchanging teasing smiles and gentle touches.
"You remember last year," Eira said, "when you insisted pistachio was the only true ice cream?"
Fleur grinned. "And I stand by that claim. But you've softened my heart to mango's charm."
"Well, of course, the ice cream is beautiful,
with rich flavor and sweetness. I love it."
And then Fleur said mischievously, "You are a mango freak, hahahaha. And now I see why sometimes you smell of mango—it's because of your obsession with it."
To this, Eira smiled and said, "Oh, it's mango supremacy. Anything with the flavor of mango is delicious, and I will eat it."
And to this, Fleur said with eyes full of lust,
"Anything?"
To Eira, who was licking her ice cream, the answer was, "Anything."
Unaware of the expression that Fleur was making.
Then, after eating the ice cream, they walked away as their laughter mingled with the gentle lapping of the river water—a sound as timeless as the city itself.
********
Wandering through the Marais district, they explored hidden courtyards and quaint shops, Fleur guiding Eira with practiced ease.
"You know, spending time with you is quite enjoyable, especially when we are in the muggle world," Fleur said softly, her eyes glinting with affection. "Muggle Paris suits you—makes you approachable, without thinking of politics or being the head of the White family."
Eira raised an eyebrow. "Approachable? I am always approachable for you, you know. Besides, when I am with you, I am just Eira—nothing more, just Eira."
"Yes, you are right—just Eira. My Eira," Fleur whispered, stepping closer.
Eira nudged her playfully. "You make it hard to take you seriously."
"But I am serious," Fleur said, voice low and sincere.
Eira smiled, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "Well, I'm serious about enjoying today."
*******
Lunch was a sumptuous affair at a luxury muggle restaurant tucked away on a quiet square. The rich flavors of coq au vin and boeuf bourguignon delighted their palates, while soft candlelight and quiet music wrapped them in intimacy.
Fleur reached across the table, her fingers lightly touching Eira's hand. "My favorite part of days like this?"
Eira smiled. "What is it?"
"Sharing them with you."
Eira's heart skipped a beat, but she met Fleur's gaze with steady warmth. "And I with you."
********
Afterward, they sought out a beloved patisserie known for desserts popular in the city—colorful éclairs and the famed Paris-Brest awaited. Sitting side by side on a bench in a quiet park, Fleur rested her head on Eira's shoulder.
"This is perfect," Fleur sighed.
Eira whispered, "Maybe we'll have many more perfect days."
Fleur looked up, hope shining in her eyes. "You just said 'we.'"
Eira smiled, a playful glint returning. "Perhaps I did."
*********
As twilight bathed the city in soft hues, they strolled along the Pont Alexandre III, the Seine shimmering beneath them. The world felt quiet, as if holding its breath to listen to the unspoken promises between them.
Fleur's voice was a tender murmur. "Paris is magical, not for spells, but for moments like this. You know this beautiful city used to be called the City of Lovers."
Eira smiled and said, "Yes. Yes, it's the most beautiful city in the whole world. People would come here with their significant others to visit, especially on Valentine's Day."
The city stretched out before them, alive and waiting, as their laughter echoed softly into the night.