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On the morning after Christmas, the Black Vine Estate was blanketed in white snow. The grapevines were draped in ice crystals, looking like a curtain adorned with diamonds.
After two continuous days of noisy holiday celebrations, the estate finally welcomed back its tranquility.
After breakfast that day, Alphard changed into a dark brown leather coat, his wand tucked into his waistband, and took Julien on the road to the town of Fontsarris.
Their carriage traveled along the snow-covered country lanes. The wheels crunched over the packed snow, and distant villages loomed in and out of the morning mist.
Yes, a horse-drawn carriage. Wrapped in a thick, dark green wool cloak and sitting beside his grandfather Alphard, Julien realized he had overthought things. There were no Thestrals here, let alone noble Abraxan winged horses.
"Why didn't we just drive?" Julien asked curiously.
"Are you mad? Driving a car into a wizarding town? Fontsarris is a truly hidden place; only old-school wizards even know it exists. When I was younger, I used to come here to buy your grandmother's favorite lavender spices. To this day, she still has no idea those spices are exclusive to the wizarding world. She just thinks I'm the only one who can find her favorites, haha."
"Are there a lot of fun things to do there?"
"Fontsarris isn't as flashy as Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade, but it hides a lot of good things." Alphard stroked his impeccably groomed beard as he drove. "The magical furniture makers and apothecaries there rely on old-fashioned craftsmanship, and they have the best magical pastry shop in all of France."
After parking the carriage in the designated area, the grandfather and grandson strolled slowly into Fontsarris.
The town was of a decent size. The cobblestone streets were lined with neat stone houses topped with red-tiled roofs.
Every windowsill was overflowing with magical plants that still bloomed brightly in the dead of winter. For the holidays, enchanted wreaths woven from mistletoe and ivy hung above every doorway.
The commercial district was mostly concentrated in the center of town. Outside a small shop along the road, the owner was using nonverbal spells to direct a broom to sweep away the snow in front of his door. Meanwhile, an owl wearing a miniature Santa hat perched on a postbox, curiously studying the endless stream of passersby.
The bustling atmosphere here was entirely different from the celebrations at the Black Vine Estate over the past two days. It was less luxurious, but richer in a simple, grounded sort of liveliness.
Just as the pair paused in front of a small shop selling handmade wand-polishing oils, a smooth, melodious woman's voice called out from behind them.
"Monsieur Black!"
They turned around. An older lady with pale skin and a slender but not frail figure, dressed in a deep purple velvet robe, was looking their way.
She was around sixty, but her back was as straight as the pillars of Versailles. Her grey-blue eyes were as clear as the sea of Brittany, and an antique, openwork silver brooch pinned her collar.
"Ah! Clotilde!"
Upon seeing her, Alphard immediately broke into his signature charming smile. "So wonderful to see you!"
The lady smiled and raised a hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Her sleeve slipped down a fraction, revealing a delicate, old silver bracelet around her wrist that chimed crisply with the movement.
What Julien noticed first, however, were the two girls standing beside her—one older, one younger.
The older one was none other than Fleur Delacour, whom he had met just the other day. She was currently holding the hand of a little girl who looked about four or five years old.
Fleur was wearing a beautifully tailored white cashmere coat today. Her long, silvery-blonde hair gleamed in the sunlight, and her deep, silver eyes mirrored his own surprise.
The little girl beside her shared the same exquisite features, though her eyes were far more innocent and naive. Right now, she was clutching her sister's hand tightly, studying Julien with open curiosity.
"Hello, Miss Delacour." Julien smiled and nodded at them, his tone even. "I didn't expect to run into you here. This must be your sister?"
"I'm Gabrielle. Who are you?" the little girl answered in a crisp voice. She immediately pulled free from her sister's hand and ran up to Julien, tilting her small face up without a trace of shyness.
Julien blinked in surprise, then crouched down to look Gabrielle level in her clear eyes. "Hello, Gabrielle," he smiled gently. "It's lovely to meet you. My name is Julien."
"Hello, Julien! I'm happy too!" Gabrielle clapped her hands in delight. She then grabbed Julien's sleeve as if she had just found a brand-new toy. "Is this your first time here? I can show you around to play!"
Fleur smiled helplessly and stepped forward. "Hello, Julien. My sister is quite mischievous. Please don't mind her."
Over on the other side, the older lady and Alphard were catching up. After the introductions, Julien learned that the woman was the Delacour sisters' grandmother, and they lived right here in Fontsarris.
After chatting for a while, Julien's grandfather and Fleur's grandmother decided to go visit some old friends together, leaving the Delacour sisters to show Julien around town.
And so, the three youngsters set off together. Gabrielle was like a cheerful little bird. One moment, she was dragging Julien to look at singing porcelain dolls in a shop window; the next, she was pointing at colorful paper cranes circling in the sky, asking a million questions.
Fleur walked beside them, smiling and occasionally answering her sister's wildly imaginative questions. Yet, her gaze frequently drifted to Julien—perhaps because the way he looked at the two sisters remained remarkably clear and untroubled.
They passed through an arcade strung with colored lights. The view suddenly opened up, revealing an ancient stone building standing at the far end of a square.
It had a towering spire and stained-glass windows, though most of the glass was broken. Withered vines crawled across its stone walls, giving it an exceptionally desolate look.
"Is that... a church?" Julien asked, somewhat surprised. In his experience, wizarding settlements rarely featured such purely Muggle religious structures.
"Yes," Fleur nodded, her voice dropping a register. "My grandmother says that centuries ago, Fontsarris wasn't just for wizards. Muggles and wizards used to live here together. Later, for some unknown reason, the Muggles gradually moved away, and this church was abandoned. Now everyone says it's haunted, and no children dare go near it."
Julien was just about to ask something else when he caught a glimpse of a figure flashing past a narrow alleyway beside the church. The person was wearing a loose grey cloak, with the hood pulled down very low.
But in the split second the figure raised an arm to adjust the cloak, Julien clearly saw a tattoo exposed on the inner forearm—a crescent moon entangled in thorns.
The Moon Shadow Council!
Julien's heart gave a violent thump. Why would the mark of that mysterious organization appear here? And in an isolated, seemingly peaceful wizarding town?
Fleur must have noticed it too, as she exchanged a grave look with Julien. For a moment, neither of them knew what to do.
Julien instinctively wanted to chase after the figure, but Gabrielle tugged hard on the hem of his coat. "Julien, they're selling candy apples over there!" The little girl's voice snapped him back to reality.
Right. Gabrielle was here. He couldn't take any risks.
Just then, a familiar voice carrying a trace of coldness called out from behind them.
"What a coincidence, Mr. Black. I thought you would be celebrating the holidays in your luxurious vineyard. What, have you suddenly taken an interest in rustic country markets?"
Julien turned around. Elizabeth Rosier was standing just a few steps away.
She wasn't wearing her signature dark green robes today. Instead, she was dressed in a sleek, simple black riding habit that made her skin look even paler.
Her gaze swept over Julien, Fleur, and Gabrielle—who was currently hugging Julien's arm tightly—before finally locking onto Julien's face. Her eyes held an indescribably complex emotion.
"Ah, Elizabeth. Lovely to see you." Julien stood up straight and replied politely. "Taking a stroll for the holidays is better than being cooped up at home. Are you here alone?"
"I have my own business to attend to," Rosier replied coolly. She lifted her chin slightly, speaking with her usual haughtiness. "Though it seems your holiday has been rather... fulfilling."