The air beyond the tree line was fresher and calmer, free from the oppressive tension of the forest. The soft light of early evening slanted gently over the clearing, casting long shadows as the woods slowly darkened around them. The grassy patch where Eira had chosen to stop was still touched by the last warm hues of daylight. In the center stood a small, neat table and two chairs—conjured with crisp precision from her wand— their white wood glowing softly against the deepening greens.
Hermione Granger sat across from her, looking both relieved and restless, dressed in simple, ordinary clothes rather than a fancy dress . The faint scratches on her face were already healing, thanks to a few careful spells from Eira's wand. She kept glancing toward the winding path that led deeper into the forest, as if half-expecting their pursuers to emerge again
"They won't come," Eira said gently, stirring the steaming tea that now sat in front of them both. "We're far enough, and… I've already sent the signal."
Hermione blinked. "That artifact you used?"
"Yes," Eira replied, leaning back slightly in her chair. "It's a special-use emergency artifact, keyed only to my assistant Emma. The moment I activate it, she'll know exactly where to find us."
Hermione nodded, still looking uncertain. "You make it sound like… like it's just a routine thing for you."
Eira's lips curved faintly. "It is. When you're born into my family, precautions aren't optional. They're instinct." She paused, then looked up toward the horizon, her eyes narrowing as if she could already sense the magic of an incoming arrival. "They'll be here soon."
For a few minutes, they simply sat there — the table between them, the jungle behind them, and the distant rolling fields ahead. The tension that had gripped Hermione's shoulders slowly unwound. She reached for her tea, inhaling the faint scent of herbs.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "For… everything."
Eira glanced at her. "I don't need thanks. I was the reason you were in danger to begin with."
Hermione hesitated. "You mean… they weren't after me?"
"No," Eira said, her tone soft but firm. "They mistook you for me." She didn't elaborate — not here, not with the sound of approaching magic in the air.
The faint pop of Apparition broke the quiet. A ripple of warm, familiar energy swept through the clearing as two figures appeared at the edge: Isabella Voclain, tall and commanding in her elegant deep-green robes, and Emma Bloom, composed yet fierce, her sharp eyes scanning the scene before settling on Eira.
"Eira!" Isabella's voice, usually so measured in political chambers, carried genuine relief. She crossed the grass in long, swift strides. Eira rose from her chair just in time for her aunt to wrap her arms around her in a warm but fierce embrace.
"Thank Merlin," Isabella murmured against her hair. "I was so afraid… when the signal came…"
Eira allowed herself to return the embrace, her own expression softening. "I'm fine, Aunt."
Isabella pulled back slightly, still keeping her hands on Eira's shoulders, scanning her for injuries as though to reassure herself.
Emma stepped forward next, and without hesitation, pulled Eira into a second hug — lighter, but no less sincere. "You scared us," she said, her voice low but laced with warmth. "When that artifact triggered, I thought—"
"I'm here," Eira cut in gently. "And in one piece."
It was only then that Isabella's eyes shifted to the girl still sitting at the conjured table, watching the reunion with a mixture of awkwardness and curiosity.
"And who," Isabella asked in a measured tone, "is this?"
Eira glanced at Hermione, then gestured for her to stand. "This is Hermione Granger. She's from Britain — a Hogwarts student. She was here in France with her parents on vacation… but she was mistaken for me and kidnapped."
At that, both Isabella and Emma looked at Hermione in silence for a moment, then turned back to Eira.
In the quiet that followed, Eira caught the brief flicker of thought that passed between them — not spoken, but written clearly in their eyes: My niece… how could they mistake her for you? You're far more beautiful.
Eira only gave the smallest hint of a smile, pretending not to notice.
Isabella's gaze softened as she addressed Hermione. "You must have gone through a terrible ordeal. I'm glad Eira was with you."
Hermione swallowed and nodded, still looking slightly intimidated by the French Minister of Magic's regal presence.
"What happened?" Isabella began, her voice taking on its usual authoritative cadence.
Eira raised a hand slightly. "We'll speak of it later. Right now, the most important thing is finding Mrs. Granger's parents and letting them know their daughter is safe. It's been nearly two days."
Isabella studied her for a moment, then inclined her head in agreement. "Very well."
Emma, catching the unspoken urgency, moved to Eira's side and took her arm. Isabella did the same for Hermione. "Let's get you both out of here," Emma said.
A soft twist of Apparition magic enveloped them, and the clearing vanished in a swirl of air and pressure.
When Eira opened her eyes, they stood before the gleaming gates of the White Manor in Paris. The sprawling estate rose behind them, its grand architecture bathed in warm evening light, marble and ivy blending in timeless elegance.
Hermione's eyes widened as they passed through the gates. "This is… your home?"
"One of them," Eira replied lightly.
Inside, the entrance hall was all polished stone floors and floating chandeliers. The magic here was palpable — an old, dignified sort of enchantment that seemed woven into every wall. Hermione turned in a slow circle, taking it all in.
"I've never…" she began, then stopped, looking slightly embarrassed. "I've never been inside a pure-blood family's home before. Not like this."
"It's just a house," Eira said with a faint shrug, though her tone was amused.
They settled Hermione in one of the manor's comfortable sitting rooms, and for a time, Eira stayed with her, answering questions about the manor's history and the old portraits lining the walls.
A couple of hours later, Emma returned, her arrival quiet but deliberate. "I found them," she said, glancing at Hermione. "Your parents are here."
Hermione's relief was immediate, but there was also a flicker of guilt in her expression. She hesitated, then stepped closer to Eira. "Please… don't tell them what happened. About the kidnapping, I mean. They'll be furious. And worried. And they won't feel safe letting me return to Hogwarts."
Eira's brows rose slightly. "You're certain?"
Hermione nodded, her voice dropping lower. "If they believe I was kidnapped by wizards and might have died here in France, they'll think Hogwarts is even more dangerous. I can't let them believe that."
Eira studied her for a moment, then glanced toward Emma. The older witch gave the faintest nod. "I've already taken care of it," Emma said smoothly. "On the way here, I… adjusted their memories. They believe they were simply separated from you for a short time due to a mix-up, nothing more."
Hermione's guilt deepened, and she lowered her gaze. "That feels wrong… but…"
"But it's the best course of action," Eira finished gently. "You'd only make them worry constantly about you every year. You'd make them hate the wizarding world for endangering you. This way, they can keep loving it for what it should be — magical, not dangerous."
Hermione looked up, meeting her eyes. After a moment, she nodded. "You're right. I… I suppose it's for the best."
Emma stepped aside to allow the Grangers to enter, their faces lighting up at the sight of their daughter. Hermione ran to them, and the reunion was all smiles, relieved laughter, and warm embraces — with no shadow of the truth lingering in their minds.
Eira watched in silence, her expression unreadable. When the Grangers finally left with Hermione, the manor doors closing softly behind them, the room seemed a little quieter.
Isabella stood nearby, arms crossed, studying her niece. "We will speak about this," she said at last.
Eira only nodded. "Later."
For now, she let the moment of peace settle over her — the quiet satisfaction that, at last both she and Hermione were safe.