The Waldorf Astoria suite was quiet when Nathael and Celestia returned.
Inside, Draco and Hermione sat on the sofa facing the television, both with distant expressions, eyes fixed on the screen where a news anchor was animatedly reporting on a snowstorm in the Midwest. Neither Draco nor Hermione was listening. They were lost in their own thoughts, as if the outside world had ceased to matter for a moment.
Nathael looked at them and smiled. Then, without a word, he walked toward Kate's room.
He knocked softly on the door.
"Come in," came a gentle voice from inside after a few seconds.
Nathael turned the knob and stepped in.
Kate stood by the window, arms crossed over her chest, gaze lost in the sea of New York's lights. The city shimmered like a map of fallen stars, and her reflection glowed softly, wistfully, in the glass.
"May I join you?" Nathael asked quietly.
She nodded, still not looking at him.
Nathael sat on the windowsill beside her, elbows resting on his knees.
"We're going to Forks," he said, as if it were obvious.
Kate blinked.
"Forks?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow. "In Washington?"
"Yes," Nathael said, nodding. "We need to go there. I'll fill up the car. There are things… I must do there."
Kate finally looked at him. And then she laughed—a soft, incredulous laugh.
"You think Forks is close to New York?"
Nathael frowned.
"Well… I saw on a map that Washington, D.C. is nearby, right?"
Kate burst out laughing.
"Merlin, no," she teased. "That's the capital—it's completely different from the state. If we drove nonstop, it'd take at least two days. And that's with luck—no traffic, no sleep, no food… nothing."
Nathael blinked, surprised.
"I… didn't know that."
Kate sighed, but fondly.
"The best way is to fly to Seattle. From there, you drive to Forks. It's about three or four hours by car."
Nathael nodded, thoughtful.
"I don't know those places."
"But I do," Kate said, smiling. "And you said I'd be your guide, didn't you?"
"I did," Nathael replied—and this time, it was his turn to smile.
They both looked back at the city. The silence wasn't awkward. It was comfortable, as if they'd known each other for years.
Then Kate broke the moment.
"Are there more people like you?"
Nathael didn't move. He kept watching the lights.
"Yes," he said after a while. "Hundreds of thousands, all over the world. We have societies, governments, schools… we're just hidden. To Muggles' eyes, we don't exist."
"Muggles?" Kate asked.
"People without magic," he explained. "It's a common term in the magical world for non-magical folk like you."
Kate nodded, absorbing it.
"And… is it illegal that I know this?"
Nathael turned to her. His blue eyes pierced her with an intensity that made her heart race.
"No," he said. "It's not illegal. The Ministry of Magic forbids revealing magic to the Muggle world—but that law is meant to prevent mass chaos. Incidents like Kingston Falls, where an entire town witnessed magical creatures, are extreme cases. For one person… there are exceptions. Especially if that person is… responsible."
He held her gaze.
"And tell me, Kate… are you?"
Kate blushed. She looked down, then lifted her chin with resolve.
"Yes. I won't tell anyone. Not my mom, not my friends… not even if they offered me a million dollars. I swear it."
Nathael smiled—not with sarcasm, but relief.
"Thank you." He turned back to the city.
Another silence followed—longer this time. But it was a silence full of understanding.
Then, softly, Kate said:
"You're not here for tourism, are you?"
Nathael shook his head.
"No. I'm searching for something. Something very ancient. But I can't tell you what it is."
"I understand," Kate said. "And even though I don't know what it is, I'll help you as best I can."
Nathael nodded. He stood, and almost unconsciously, he ruffled her hair.
"Thank you," he repeated.
Kate laughed—and this time, her laugh was lighter. Freer.
Nathael left the room and returned to the living area.
Draco looked at him immediately.
"When do we leave?"
Celestia, from her cushion, had already explained:
"We're going to Forks, Washington. Apparently, there are leads about what he's searching for."
Draco frowned.
"Forks? Where's that?"
"Northwest," Hermione said, intrigued. "Near the Canadian border. It's a small, rainy town. I read about it in a geography article."
Nathael sat in the armchair between them.
"If we find a flight, we'll leave tomorrow."
Draco shook his head.
"I still don't understand why we have to use that Muggle contraption again."
"Don't worry," Celestia said, purring from her spot, "I'll cast my anti-nausea charm on you again."
Draco thanked her, slightly embarrassed.
Hermione laughed.
Nathael, ignoring it all, leaned forward.
"Before we go, I need to explain something. The fire rune I used in Kingston Falls… it's not just a drawing. It's a bridge. And if you want to master ancestral magic… you must learn to trace it."
Draco and Hermione straightened instantly.
"Teach us," Hermione said.
"Yes," Draco added. "I want to understand it."
Nathael nodded.
"Very well."
For the next several hours, he explained patiently—not with complicated words, but with gestures, analogies, and Muggle-world examples that Hermione grasped easily, and Draco, after a moment of resistance, accepted too.
"The rune isn't traced with your wand," he said. "It's traced with intention—with the magic already in the air. You only channel it."
He raised his hand and drew in the air:
A curved line. A circle. Three aligned dots.
The rune glowed with golden light.
"Like this," he said. "Now you."
Hermione tried first. Her rune was shaky, but it held.
Draco made his with more force, but less precision.
"It's not about strength," Celestia said, standing up. "It's precision. Ancestral magic isn't shouted. It's whispered."
Draco nodded—and on his third try, the rune formed clearly.
"Good," Nathael said, satisfied. "The next step is to feel ancestral magic and use the rune to draw it into your body—but not here. I have the perfect place for that… but it'll have to wait until we're back in Europe."
They spent the night practicing. The suite filled with golden flashes, imperfect runes, laughter, and corrections. For a moment, they weren't a wizard on a secret mission. They were simply a teacher and his students.
---------------
The Next Day
Kate walked through Manhattan's streets with newfound determination. She wore a thick jacket, a red scarf, and a small backpack slung over her shoulder. The cold wind lashed her face, but she didn't care.
She entered a travel agency near Times Square.
"I need tickets to Seattle," she told the clerk. "For tonight. Four… five passengers."
The woman typed quickly into her computer.
"There's a flight at 9:15 p.m.," she said. "With a connection in Chicago. Will that work?"
"Perfect," Kate said, pulling out her credit card.
She paid quickly, collected the tickets, and left with a smile.
Back at the hotel, she ran up to the suite.
"I got the tickets!" she announced as she entered.
Nathael, who'd been studying an ancient map, looked up.
"Tonight?"
"Yes," Kate said, handing him the papers. "9:15 p.m. Connection in Chicago."
Celestia purred in satisfaction.
"Then let's pack."
Draco already had his luggage ready in Celestia's storage ring. Hermione, less experienced but more enthusiastic, stuffed books, clothes, and her toiletries into a Muggle suitcase that Celestia promised to compress "without wrinkling."
Nathael looked at Kate.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "Not just for the tickets. For everything."
Kate smiled.
"I'm just keeping my word."