It was completely empty.
"We're really out of money. My family isn't sending me anything at all," Getha murmured, her tone laced with despair.
"So, you two are officially Hogwarts' very own broke sisters," Ian observed, his voice tinged with amusement as he pulled out two copper Knuts from his own pouch. He handed one to each of the witches with an air of exaggerated generosity.
"Consider this a reminder fee. Make sure your families send me my compensation soon," he said breezily before turning on his heel and striding into the Great Hall.
"Liquidating assets takes time..." Daphne muttered under her breath.
The latest whispers from the sixth years suggested that the Greengrass vaults were currently tied up in some rather inconvenient financial matters, though Ian, having already disappeared into the Hall likely hadn't heard. If he had, he might have pieced together why certain pure-blood families had been abruptly cut off.
It was clear that Dumbledore had finally decided to make the old families bleed a little.
"Did he send you a Christmas gift?" Getha asked once Ian was out of earshot, her gaze flicking to Daphne with a mixture of intrigue and suspicion.
Her tone carried the kind of disbelief one might use upon discovering a so-called friend had attended an exclusive Yule Ball without extending an invitation.
"I heard he sent gifts to loads of people… Maybe he's trying to win them over?" Daphne reasoned, her thoughts shaped by the pure-blood mentality she had been raised with.
"Then why didn't he think to win me over? Our family isn't any less influential than yours..." Getha grumbled, folding her arms in visible discontent.
Daphne had no real answer to that.
"What did he send you, anyway?" Getha pressed on, curiosity gleaming in her eyes.
Daphne let out a slow sigh. "I haven't dared to open it yet. The way Little Grindelwald was looking at me was… strange. I was afraid that the moment I did, I'd get hit with a Killing Curse."
Getha's eyes widened in alarm. She even sucked in a sharp breath.
"He put a Killing Curse in your present? Merlin's beard! The Dark Lord himself wasn't that terrifying!"
The sheer sincerity of her reaction left Daphne momentarily speechless.
"..."
She considered clarifying, but before she could, Getha— ever the pragmatist— tentatively suggested taking the gift straight to Professor Sprout, the neutral Head of Hufflepuff House, to lodge a complaint.
Daphne finally groaned.
"I never said the Killing Curse would come from his gift…"
There was a brief silence as realization dawned on Getha.
"?????"
A beat passed before Getha's face twisted in a mixture of shock and comprehension.
"You think Miss Grindelwald would curse you? No way. If she and Ian really had that kind of relationship, the first person to get blown to bits wouldn't be you. The whole school's been whispering that he's dating the Ravenclaw door knocker."
Clearly.
Some rumors never arrived late.
"That's even more ridiculous than the rubbish I had to spread for Professor Lockhart," Daphne scoffed, shaking her head. If nothing else, her previous experience as a professional gossipmonger had granted her an eye for outlandish stories.
"Who can say for certain…? My father once mentioned that the Dark Lord had an unusual fondness for snakes. The way these powerful wizards think is completely beyond us," Getha Selwyn mused, her voice tinged with reluctant fascination.
As she spoke, an adult wizard passed by, prompting her to instinctively straighten up and offer a polite greeting.
"Professor Quirrell, good afternoon."
Getha even added a slight bow, her pure-blood upbringing ensuring her etiquette was impeccable. However, when she glanced up, she was met with the Muggle Studies professor's gaze— cold and unsettling, sending an involuntary shiver down her spine.
"You look well too," Quirrell remarked, his voice barely above a whisper.
A strange prickle crept over Getha's scalp.
She tried to recall if she had ever done anything to offend this particular professor, but before she could ask, Quirrell had already slipped into the Great Hall, vanishing among the other staff members gathering for lunch.
"Shall we go in?" Daphne Greengrass asked, her gaze flicking towards the Slytherin table, where Ian was already seated, eating and chatting with Aurora.
"Skipping a meal is just an easy way to lose weight..." Getha muttered, clearly reluctant to approach the Slytherin table. She wasn't keen on sitting at another House's table either.
"You're right."
Despite her stomach growling, Daphne made a swift decision, turning away from the Great Hall. Getha, looking equally conflicted, followed close behind.
"You don't think he's planning to claim our table for the entire holiday, do you?" Getha muttered, dread creeping into her voice.
Daphne had been wondering the same thing.
"If it comes to that, we can always sneak into the greenhouses and chew on some herbs."
Her "brilliant" suggestion didn't sound particularly appealing.
It had to be said—
The broke sisters of Slytherin had, in an ironic twist of fate, become even poorer than some of the students they once sneered at. While the two of them were plotting how to survive the holiday on foraged plant matter, Ian was comfortably seated at the Slytherin table, enjoying a proper meal.
Of course, even as he ate, his gaze kept drifting upward.
"What are you looking at?" Aurora finally asked, curiosity getting the better of her.
"I'm mourning my losses," Ian replied with a sigh, a trace of melancholy in his tone.
Just yesterday, he had orchestrated a little Christmas surprise right here in the Great Hall, yet not only had he failed to recover the Galleons he had hidden away— he hadn't even seen a single Knut of it.
"So, last night's commotion was your doing..." Aurora quickly pieced things together, her eyes widening in realization.
"Who ended up with that Galleon, then?" Ian wondered if there was still a way to salvage his losses.
"No idea. I doubt anyone knows. During the feast, everyone was too busy dodging falling objects. The professors thought it was just another of Peeves' pranks," Aurora said, rubbing her forehead— likely the spot where something had struck her.
"..."
Ian fell silent for a moment.
"Right, of course. It must have been Peeves' doing," He declared with a tone of righteous indignation. "I just happened to witness the chaos unfold."
"??????"
Aurora gave him a long, unimpressed look.
Sensing her skepticism, Ian decided it was best to change the subject.
"So, about that key you gave me, what's it for? Is it for a mansion in Austria? Can I pick the décor?" His curiosity about the gift had been one of the reasons he had chosen to sit here in the first place.
"It's not a house key, and no, it won't let you waltz into some grand estate," Aurora replied calmly. "But it will grant you access to a vault in a goblin bank in Northern Europe, one my grandfather kept hidden away."
Ian's expression shifted.
"I don't actually know what's inside," Aurora continued, "But whatever it is, it must be something valuable. My grandfather went to great lengths to conceal it, and I only managed to uncover its location thanks to my talent."
Ian's eyes widened.
"What? You don't like it?" Aurora tilted her head, looking genuinely puzzled. "I thought you'd be thrilled… You do love gold Galleons, after all."
"No… it's just…"
Ian quickly fished the key from his pocket. He had considered several possibilities— at one point, he had even entertained the ridiculous thought that it might be a key to the Slytherin girls' dormitory.
However.
The truth was far more alarming than even his wildest speculations.
"Only you would be bold enough to pull something like this!" Ian felt his heart lurch, his hands tightening around the key as he instinctively cast a wary glance down the table.
Luckily, Grindelwald wasn't here for lunch. That, at least, was a relief.
Because, in the end—
This wasn't just about sneaking off with some forgotten treasure.
Aurora had directly exposed one of Grindelwald's secrets.
(End of this chapter.)
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