The soft light of dawn slipped through the heavy velvet drapes of the White Manor, painting the room in gentle hues of gold and rose. Eira stirred beneath the cool sheets, her mind slowly untangling from the threads of sleep. The distant hum of the awakening city reached her ears, mixing with the faint songs of early birds and the rustling of leaves in the morning breeze. She stretched languidly, feeling the peaceful calm that only a new day could bring.
With a slow, measured breath, Eira rose from her bed, the soft fabric whispering as it fell from her shoulders. She crossed the room barefoot, her pale feet barely making a sound on the cool marble floor. Approaching the grand window, she pulled aside the heavy curtains and looked out upon the gardens that stretched beyond the manor's walls.
A smile curved her lips as her eyes drank in the sight. The sprawling greenery of the White family estate was a tapestry of color and life. Blooming flowers of every shade wove together in fragrant clusters; roses and lilies mingled with delicate star-shaped blossoms that shimmered faintly with magic. Towering trees—ancient oaks and whispering elms—stood sentinel along the edges, their gnarled branches swaying softly in the morning breeze. A gentle mist still clung to the ground, lending a dreamlike quality to the scene.
Beyond the borders of the magical grounds, the manor was nestled among the ordinary bustle of the Muggle neighborhood. Quaint shops and modest houses lined the nearby streets, their windows cracked open for the fresh air of the beautiful summer. Yet here, in this secluded oasis, magic flourished, hidden from prying eyes.
Eira breathed deeply, the crisp air filling her lungs. Her gaze drifted to the carefully tended flowerbeds where rare and magical plants thrived. She thought of the countless hours she had spent studying them at Beauxbâtons and the precious knowledge passed down from her professors. Among them, one figure came clearly to mind—Professor Lioré, her mentor in magical botany.
The memory was vivid. Last school year, during the end-of-year exam in her second grade, Professor Lioré had spoken passionately about the importance of preserving magical plants. He had mentioned a place—the Garden of Heaven, nestled far away in the remote wilderness of Patagonia—a sanctuary devoted to saving endangered magical flora and cultivating new life. He had asked the Eira specifically, to consider contributing to this sanctuary. The garden was more than just a collection of plants; it was a living repository, a beacon of hope for the future of magical biodiversity.
Eira frowned slightly as she realized she had completely forgotten this request over the long summer holidays. The demands of political intrigue, family affairs, and her own studies had crowded out the memory. But now, as the morning light bathed the manor gardens in soft warmth, the importance of the Garden of Heaven resonated deeply within her.
With renewed resolve, Eira turned from the window and made her way toward the bathroom. The air was cool against her bare skin as she slipped into the large marble tub and filled it with steaming water scented faintly with lavender and mint. She closed her eyes and let the warmth envelop her, feeling the tension of the past weeks melt away in the comforting embrace of the bath.
Afterwards, with a simple flick of her wand, she gathered her snow-white hair into a loose, elegant cascade that framed her face softly. Dressed in comfortable robes, she descended the grand staircase to the breakfast room, where Emma was already seated, having prepared a modest but nourishing meal—a blend of French and British fare that reflected the mingling of two cultures that shaped Eira's life.
Emma looked up with a warm smile as Eira entered. "Good morning, my lady. I hope you slept well."
Eira returned the smile, sitting gracefully at the table. "I did, thank you. The gardens are especially beautiful this morning."
Emma nodded. "They are. I always think the estate looks its best in the early light."
As Eira began to eat—a plate of freshly baked croissants, scrambled eggs, and thick slices of smoky bacon accompanied by a steaming cup of tea—her thoughts returned to the Garden of Heaven. She glanced at Emma thoughtfully.
"Emma," she said, setting her cup down gently, "I want us to make a donation to the Garden of Heaven."
Emma's eyes sparkled with interest. "The sanctuary in Patagonia? The world's largest magical plant reserve?"
"Yes," Eira replied, her voice steady. "It's a cause that deserves attention and support. Hundreds of botanists and magical plant experts work there tirelessly, preserving species on the brink of extinction and cultivating new magical flora that could one day be crucial to our world. It's vital work."
Emma nodded in agreement. "It's a brilliant idea, my lady. Such an act of goodwill will resonate deeply—not just with the magical community but also with the Muggles, who have little idea how intertwined their world is with ours."
Eira leaned forward slightly, her eyes brightening with determination. "This is more than charity. It's a statement. For too long, the White family has been known only for its power, influence, and the fear it instills. It's time for that reputation to evolve. We must show that we contribute to the growth and preservation of the magical world, that we care about its future."
Emma smiled warmly, pride evident in her gaze. "It will build goodwill across the continents. Families will look to the Whites as pioneers of progress, not just as a force to be reckoned with."
"Exactly," Eira said, folding her hands thoughtfully. "We want to inspire other families to join us, to contribute their resources and talents toward rebuilding and improving magical society. It's time the Whites were known not only for strength but also for compassion and vision."
Emma pulled out a small ledger and pen, poised to take notes. "I will start making the arrangements. We'll send a generous donation—enough to make a meaningful impact. And I'll coordinate with the newspapers to publicize it widely. The announcement will span in all magical media outlets to maximize influence."
Eira nodded approvingly. "Make sure the announcement highlights the legacy we intend to build—a legacy of stewardship and care. I want the world to know that the White family stands for more than tradition and power. We stand for growth, protection, and hope."
Emma glanced up, her expression serious. "And my lady, may I say… it's wise to distance our name from families like the Blacks, whose history is steeped in dark magic and fear. The Whites must chart a different course."
Eira smiled softly. "Indeed. Their legacy is a cautionary tale. I want the White name to be associated with light, knowledge, and preservation."
Emma's fingers danced lightly over her parchment. "I will investigate the current status of the Garden of Heaven, ensure our donation will be put to good use, and arrange for the press coverage. We can even invite some of the leading botanists to speak at future events to reinforce the message."
Eira took a final sip of her tea, feeling a surge of optimism. "Good. Let's make this happen. It's time for a new chapter for the Whites—and for the wizarding world."
Outside, the gardens basked in the full glow of the morning sun, flowers nodding in approval as a new day of promise began.