The resonant chimes of Excalibur's clock tower echoed one last time for the semester, signalling the start of the holiday break. Students poured out of their classrooms with an energy that matched the brisk winter air. The Academy was alive with activity as professors, staff, and students finalized preparations for their journeys home. Luggage was loaded onto buses bound for the train station, while others stayed behind, their thoughts focused on the much-anticipated Yuletide Ball scheduled for the following evening.
The Great Hall was transformed into a festive wonderland, decked with garlands, glittering ribbons, and golden bells. Towering evergreen trees adorned with shimmering glass ornaments stood in corners, their twinkling lights reflecting the joy of the season. At the heart of the Grand Hallway, a magnificent tree rose majestically, its pointed tip nearly brushing the ceiling. Its branches sparkled with crystal baubles, delicate lights, and a star that glowed softly, illuminating the faces of the passersby below.
Beyond the Academy's gates, the streets of Caerleon bustled with life. Shoppers hurried to complete last-minute purchases, whether gifts for loved ones or elegant attire for the ball. Snow blanketed the city in a serene white coat, while the cheerful hum of carollers and the warm glow of lanterns created a magical atmosphere.
Among the throngs of people, Godric and Raine strolled arm in arm. Their winter coats wrapped snugly around them, scarves wound tightly against the chill, their breaths visible in the frosty air. Their cheeks were rosy with warmth, and their smiles were wide, reflecting a newfound freedom. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, there were no curfews to obey, no oppressive caretaker's shadow to darken their joy.
Raine leaned into Godric's side, her golden eyes shining with delight as her wolfen tail wagged gently behind her. Every glance they shared spoke volumes of the happiness they now embraced, the weight of their past struggles melting away in the glow of the bustling city.
"Oh, Godric, Caerleon is so beautiful," Raine's gaze swept over the twinkling lights, garlands, and ribbons strung across the lampposts. She took in the lively shop windows and cheerful decorations. "I've never been out here for Yuletide before. Is it this magical where you're from?"
Godric chuckled, a warm sound against the cold winter air. "Think a little less grand," he replied with a smile. "My town isn't exactly a hub of activity—just a quiet little hideaway on the edge of the countryside. Rustic, peaceful, and charming in its own way."
Raine tilted her head thoughtfully. "Well, how do you celebrate Yuletide back home?"
"For starters, we don't call it Yuletide," Godric explained. "We call it Christes Maesse. It's usually just my uncle and me. Being Captain of the Town Guard, he's a busy man, always working through the year, but he makes it a point to set time aside for the holiday."
"That sounds lovely," Raine said softly.
Godric smiled, his crimson eyes glinting with warmth. "It's nothing fancy, but it's special to us. We cut down our own tree, decorate it with whatever we can find, and spend the day cooking and eating far more than we should. Simple, but it's home."
Raine's grip on his arm tightened slightly. "I'd love to see it one day," she said with a small smile.
"Well, that's actually what I wanted to talk to you about," Godric began, rubbing the back of his neck, his cheeks faintly flushed. "With school out for the holidays, and you being… well… free, I was hoping you'd, you know…" He stumbled over his words, his gaze darting to hers before looking away.
Raine tilted her head, an amused smile curving her lips. "Godric Gryffindor, are you trying to ask me something?" she teased gently, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. "Because if you are, the answer is yes."
"Really?" Godric blinked, his blush deepening before he quickly recovered. "I mean, of course." He gripped her hand a little tighter, a shy but confident grin spreading across his face. "I'd at least like to introduce you to Uncle Gareth. He should know about, um…"
"Your mate?" Raine interjected with a playful smirk.
Godric chuckled, shaking his head. "By Charlamagne, he'll need some time to get used to that." He suddenly stopped walking, turning to face her fully. Taking her hand in his, he met her golden eyes with a steady gaze. "But for now…" He reached into his coat and pulled out the golden bracelet, its delicate design and the ruby lion charm catching the light. Gently, he fastened it onto her wrist. "For now, I'm happy to call you my betrothed."
Raine's breath hitched as she looked down at the bracelet, her eyes glistening with emotion. A warm, radiant smile spread across her face as she placed a hand on his cheek, her touch soft and full of affection. "I know, my brave lion."
Their gazes locked, and they shared a tender kiss under the twinkling Yuletide lights. The warmth of the moment was abruptly shattered when someone bumped into Raine, causing her to stumble forward. Godric caught her just in time, steadying her. The man who had bumped her turned, an apologetic smile on his face.
"Oh, terribly sorry, miss, I didn't see you—" He froze mid-sentence, his gaze falling on the faint, discolored impression around Raine's neck where her collar used to be. His expression twisted with disgust. "Psh, filthy little Chainling."
Raine flinched as though struck, her golden eyes wide with a mix of fear and sorrow.
"Excuse me?" Godric's voice dropped, dark and threatening. "What did you just call her?"
The man scoffed. "I take it you're her former owner. If you won't keep your property in chains, at least keep it in line."
Godric's hand shot to the hilt of his sword. "One more word," he growled, "and the only thing you'll take home for Yuletide is your tongue—in a box."
The man sneered but hesitated, sensing the simmering rage beneath Godric's calm exterior. "Bold words, boy," he said with a forced laugh. "But surely you're not foolish enough—"
The soft scrape of metal filled the air as Godric inched the blade from its scabbard. His crimson eyes burned with fury as he snarled, "You want to test me, filth? Where I'm from, your head would already be rolling down this street. That's what we do to those who dare—"
"Godric." Raine's words broke through his anger. She placed a trembling hand over his, her gaze downcast, pleading. "Please… let's just go."
Godric's jaw clenched, his gaze locking with the man's as the latter took a wary step back. With a sharp, deliberate motion, he slid the blade back into its scabbard. "Count yourself lucky," he spat.
Without another word, Godric turned and walked away, Raine clinging to his arm. The fire of his anger still smoldered as they moved down the bustling street, the festive lights doing little to soften the storm brewing within him.
****
The crunch of snow beneath their boots filled the silence between Raine and Godric as they walked through the bustling Yuletide streets. Raine's ears drooped, pressing flat against her head, and her tail hung limp behind her. Godric's chest ached as he watched her. She clung to his arm, her grip tightening slightly—betraying the storm of emotions he knew she was trying to contain.
"Raine," Godric began. "Are you—"
"I thought…" Raine interrupted. Her hand rose unconsciously to her neck, brushing the spot where the collar had once been. "I thought that without this, I could finally be free. That I could be normal. But…"
"Raine," Godric stopped and gently turned her to face him. "What did he mean? What's going on?"
She looked up at him, her golden eyes shimmering with unshed tears. Before she could answer, the sound of knocking on glass pulled their attention. They turned to see Helga grinning at them through the window of a cozy café, her mouth moving enthusiastically, though the noise didn't reach them. Helga quickly disappeared from view, and moments later, the bell above the café door jingled as she stepped outside.
"Raine! Godric!" Helga quipped. "Fancy running into you two! Come on in, join us!"
"Us?" Godric raised an eyebrow, peering into the café.
Inside, sitting at a long table, were Rowena and—much to Godric's astonishment—Derek and Marcus. Both were former members of the Calishans, the very ones they had faced in the duel at the Excalibur clock tower. The table was piled high with cakes, pastries, and other confections. Marcus, his arm in a sling, leaned back in his chair with a comically overstuffed belly pressing against his shirt. He shot Godric a pleading look, as if silently begging for rescue. Beside him, Rowena and Derek appeared engrossed in a heated discussion, likely over some scholarly theory. Derek's face was covered in bandages and plasters, evidence of his recovery.
"Oh no, Helga, we wouldn't want to intrude," Raine said.
"Nonsense!" Helga said, stepping forward and ushering them inside before they could protest. "And besides, I think we may have ordered a bit too much. Come on, take a load off!"
Raine glanced at Godric hesitantly, but with Helga's gentle insistence, they found themselves stepping into the warm, inviting glow of the café. As they approached the table, Helga cheerfully pulled out seats for Godric and Raine. Derek halted mid-conversation, awkwardly adjusting his glasses while avoiding Raine's gaze. Raine hesitated, her ears drooping slightly, but she eventually sat down. Godric unbuckled his scabbard, his crimson gaze sharp as he placed it against the table, deliberately keeping it within reach.
Helga flitted back to her spot and began piling plates. With a serving fork in hand, she gestured toward the decadent spread of desserts before them.
"So, what'll it be?" Helga asked brightly. "We've got Red Velvet, Cheesecake, Carrot Cake, Tiramisu… and my personal favorite, Peanut Butter Cream!"
Raine's golden eyes scanned the assortment, each cake varying in color, texture, and aroma. The air was thick with the scent of cheese, cream, and sugar, an inviting contrast to the tautness lingering at the table.
"Um… the Tiramisu sounds nice," Raine said softly.
"One Tiramisu, coming right up!" Helga chirped, already slicing a piece.
Godric, however, leaned forward. "Well," he said, his piercing gaze fixed on Marcus and Derek. "You two are an odd sight. After everything that happened, I thought you wouldn't dare show your damned faces in public again. I know I wouldn't."
Marcus and Derek exchanged uneasy glances, their guilt plain to see.
"Well, Derek approached me, asking for help with some of his spells," Rowena said, carefully plopping two cubes of sugar into her teacup before stirring. "And, despite everything, a Ravenclaw never turns down a student eager to learn." She tapped her teaspoon lightly against the edge of the cup, her gaze briefly shifting to Derek. "Besides, I imagine it took a fair amount of humility to come to me for lessons," she added, raising an eyebrow at him.
Derek offered a small, sheepish smile in return.
"We'd just come from Spindles and Spells," Rowena continued, gesturing to the sheer amount of cake piled high on the table. "And then, of course, we ran into Helga and her… little indulgence."
"Oh, please, Row," Helga smirked, casually cutting another generous slice of cake. "You call this an indulgence? I call it Tuesday."
"I call it an abomination," Marcus clutched his stomach as though on the brink of losing his composure, though he managed to steady himself. He straightened slightly, his gaze meeting Godric's with a rare sincerity. "Truthfully, we don't fault you for holding a grudge, nor do we expect your forgiveness." His tone was heavy, laden with regret. "We made our choices, and we'll carry the weight of those decisions for the rest of our lives."
Derek adjusted his glasses again, his eyes finally meeting Raine's. "That said," he began cautiously, "I know it might sound hollow compared to the pain we've caused you, but… for what it's worth, I'm sorry." He glanced between Marcus and himself. "We both are."
Godric snapped, "Save it. It's not my forgiveness you need." His crimson gaze shifted toward Raine. "It's hers. You Calishans put her through hell, and you lot should be grateful you're still breathing. Because if I—"
"Godric," Rowena interjected, her tone steady but probing. "Are you alright? You seem… particularly rattled by something."
Helga, who had just placed the plate of tiramisu before Raine, paused mid-motion, her amber eyes narrowing. "Now that you mention it, you both looked a bit off when you came in. Did something happen?"
Even Derek and Marcus exchanged curious glances as Godric leaned back into his chair. The café's background noise hummed around them—the hiss of frothing milk, the clink of spoons against ceramic cups, and the soft strains of music playing faintly overhead.
"We… ran into someone while walking," Godric began, his jaw tightening. "This man bumped into Raine. He looked like he was going to apologize, but then he got angry. He called her a…" He hesitated, his gaze drifting to Raine. "I… I don't know what it means."
Raine shifted uncomfortably, drawing in a steadying breath. "He called me a Chainling."
The table fell silent, save for the faint sound of Derek's breath hitching. Marcus's expression twisted with anger, his jaw clenching.
"By the Valkyries, he did not," Marcus growled, fist tightening against the table. "Drittsekk."
Helga's grip tightened on the serving fork in her hand, her thumb bending the sturdy metal in half with ease. "Where's that prick? I'll go and 'politely' straighten him out."
"Helga, calm down!" Rowena scolded. Her sapphire eyes flicked toward her friend. "Godric, tell me you didn't do anything rash."
"Blimey, no, but I wanted to," Godric admitted, exhaling heavily. "I just—someone, please, tell me what it means."
Rowena's eyes darkened, and Helga's fury simmered just beneath the surface. Derek spoke up. "A Chainling is a slur," he explained, his expression grim. "It's used to demean freed slaves. It implies that, no matter their freedom, they'll always be defined by the chains they once wore."
Raine's ears drooped further, and she glanced away, unable to meet anyone's eyes.
Helga's grip on the ruined fork trembled. "What a vile, loathsome term," she muttered. "The kind of thing only scum would say."
"I should've cut him down where he stood," Godric said through clenched teeth, his hand unconsciously brushing against his sword.
"No, you shouldn't have," Rowena said firmly as she turned to Raine. "It's despicable, yes, but it's also a reminder of why we're here—to change things for the better. Starting with you, Raine. You're proof that their words hold no power."
Raine managed a small smile, her hand brushing against the bracelet Godric had given her. "Thank you," she murmured.
Marcus and Derek exchanged glances before Marcus spoke. "If I ever hear someone call you that again, Miss Raine, I swear on the honor I have left, they won't be saying much else."
Helga nodded. "You've got us all now. No one gets to speak to you like that again, not while we're around." She then grinned mischievously, plopping another generous serving of cake in front of Marcus and Derek. "And while we're at it, you two aren't off the hook yet. There's plenty more where that came from."
Derek's eyes widened in horror as he pushed the plate slightly away. "Oh, by the Gods, this must be some kind of Jötnar torture!" he groaned. "Rowena, for the love of all that is sane, talk some sense into her!"
Rowena calmly stirred the tea in her cup, her expression delightfully smug. "I warned you. But you accepted the invitation," she replied before taking a measured sip.
Marcus leaned back dramatically in his chair, clutching his stomach with exaggerated despair. "I think I can see the Halls of Valhalla," he muttered. "To think my end would come at the hands of cake."
Helga laughed, serving herself a slice of peanut butter cream cake as if to mock their plight. "If you lot can't handle desserts, you're in worse shape than I thought."
As the lively banter carried on, Godric turned his attention to Raine. Quietly, he reached over and took her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. Her ears perked up at the touch, and she glanced toward him. His soft smile met hers, and for a moment, the noise around them faded away.
They exchanged a tender look, the unspoken warmth in their eyes a quiet reassurance amidst the chaos.
Derek suddenly cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention. "Not sure if anyone's interested in this," he began, "but I'll say it anyway. Volg's being taken out of Excalibur. His brother's coming to collect him tomorrow morning, and they're heading back to Camelot."
The news caused Godric, Raine, Helga, and Rowena to sit up straighter, surprise flickering across their faces.
"Wait, so he's dropping out?" Helga asked, her fork paused mid-air over a slice of cheesecake.
Rowena sipped her tea thoughtfully. "It doesn't come as much of a shock. Volg has damaged his reputation beyond repair. Nova and everything else aside, no one here would ever associate with him again. This is for the best. Laxus may be the only one who can get him the help he so desperately needs."
Godric sat silent, his gaze distant and his hands clasped tightly on the table. Marcus raised an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic reaction.
"That's odd, Gryffindor," Marcus remarked. "I'd have thought you'd be over the moon hearing this."
Godric exhaled sharply. "Honestly, I don't know what to feel anymore. I won't sugarcoat it—I hate Volg for everything he's done and for the person he chose to be." His eyes flicked to Raine. "And if it weren't for Raine, I… I might have ended it that night at the clock tower." He shook his head. "But now? After everything that's happened… I wish things could've been different. I hate what he did, but I never thought I'd push him far enough to do… that."
Rowena sighed, placing her cup back on its saucer. "I told you before, Godric—Volg isn't rational. He's a spoiled child who's never had to deal with the consequences of his actions. Now, those consequences are staring him in the face, and he has no choice but to live with them for the rest of his life."
"Volg has always been… for lack of a better word, unstable," Derek admitted, cutting into his cake with deliberate precision. "Whenever he wasn't throwing tantrums about his brother or plotting revenge on some imagined slight, he had moments where he seemed almost… human. He had hobbies, interests, a sense of humor. Sometimes, he even felt like a proper friend." He sighed. "I suppose even monsters can wear a human mask."
Marcus leaned forward; his tone solemn. "You might not see it, Gryffindor, but Volg did give us something. He gave us a place to belong. We were all outcasts, each in our own way. What we did—fighting, tormenting others—it wasn't right, but we didn't care. Because for us, it felt like the world hurt us first. Why shouldn't we hurt it back?"
Helga set down her fork, her amber eyes blazing. "I might have understood that," she said, "if you'd kept your anger aimed at those who wronged you. But you didn't. You targeted slaves—innocent people who had nothing to do with your pain."
"And then you moved on to First Years," Rowena added sharply. "You became the very thing you claimed to despise."
Derek nodded; his expression dark. "You're not wrong. It started with the older students. The bullies and the ruffians, but then… we got hooked on the power. That sense of control, of superiority. It consumed us, and Volg reveled in it. He wanted more, always more."
Marcus sighed deeply. "And the fractures within The Calishans started to grow. Some of us could see what Volg was becoming, but it all came to a head because of you, Gryffindor."
"Me?" Godric's brow furrowed.
"Do you remember the courtyard? The hallway? The incident with Cú? Volg never let go of those moments. For weeks, you were all he ranted about," Derek explained. "He became obsessed with hurting you, no matter the cost."
"The Bellum Inter Duos, however, was the final straw," Marcus said. "You shattered his illusion of control. That duel gave everyone the excuse they needed to walk away from him."
"And yet you two stayed," Godric said, his crimson eyes narrowing at them.
Marcus and Derek exchanged a glance, guilt shadowing their faces.
"We had our reasons," Derek said quietly.
Marcus's expression was heavy. "Some more personal than others," he admitted. "Nevertheless, we've been Excommunicado. Our journey has come to an end. We're no longer warriors, no longer a Clan. Just regular students now." He let out a soft chuckle, though it lacked humor. "Not sure if I feel disappointed or relieved, but we knew the cost. It's one I've paid willingly."
"At least now I can focus on my studies," Derek said, his tone light but forced. "As for Volg, last I heard, Laxus is taking him to a facility. They'll try to reverse or at least mitigate the effects of Nova. It's not much, but it's something." He shook his head. "Still, he's alive. That's more than I can say for Gramont."
At the mention of Rance, a weight fell over the table. The chatter of the café seemed to fade into the background as Marcus leaned forward, his expression grave. "A word of caution," he began. "Your friend, Salazar Slytherin… he may not be the man you think he is."
Godric's eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening. Helga and Rowena exchanged uneasy glances.
Marcus pressed on. "I know it might sound rich coming from me but hear me out. I come from the Isles of Skellige, a land steeped in ancient power and old Seiðr magic. I've seen things—terrible things. Dark things. Things that haunt you, even with your waking eyes. And that darkness? I see it every time I look at him."
His voice dropped lower, tinged with a hint of fear. "There's something evil about him, Gryffindor. Something monstrous. An unmistakable shadow of death that seems to follow him wherever he goes, and what happened to Gramont? That wasn't an accident."
"Stop," Godric said sharply, his crimson gaze locked on Marcus. "I won't have you slandering him. Salazar might be difficult, we all know that, but accusing him of such things without proof? That's a step too far."
Marcus didn't flinch. Instead, his gaze shifted to Rowena and Helga. "You might dismiss it now, but search your feelings. Even you must sense it. And you two—" his eyes lingered on the girls, "—you've felt it, haven't you?"
Helga's fork hovered mid-air, her amber eyes flickering with uncertainty. Rowena's hand tightened around her teacup, her gaze cast downward.
"You're wrong," Godric interjected firmly, his crimson gaze narrowing. "Salazar's our friend. He's my friend. He'd never keep secrets from me. From any of us."
Derek's expression turned somber. "He keeps them especially from you," he said. "House Slytherin isn't just steeped in tradition—it's mired in mystery. Whispers of dark, eldritch magic, forbidden rituals, things that would make even the darkest of wizards hesitate. I know we're probably the last people you'd want advice from about keeping good company," Derek added, glancing at Marcus, "but if I were you, I'd keep my wits about me when it comes to Salazar."
Before anyone could respond, Raine's soft voice cut through the tension. "Regardless…"
All eyes turned to her as she set her fork down. Her ears drooped slightly. "Salazar fought for me," she began. "Like Rowena and Helga, he put everything on the line in a battle he had no obligation to join. He got hurt, bled, and still stood up—for someone like me. A slave."
Her gaze shifted to Derek and Marcus. "If it weren't for him, for any of them, I wouldn't be here. I'd be…" She swallowed hard, her words catching in her throat.
The boys exchanged glances, their stern expressions softening as the weight of her words sank in.
"And I don't hate him—Volg, I mean," Raine added, her tone quieter but no less impactful. "He hurt me. The Calishans hurt me. But I've been a slave long enough to understand… holding onto grudges when you're powerless doesn't lead anywhere."
She looked down for a moment before raising her gaze again. "I just hope, somehow, he eventually finds peace with himself," she continued, her golden eyes meeting Marcus and Derek's. "The same peace I've found. Just as I hope all of you will."
Marcus sighed and nodded. "You're a kinder soul than we ever deserved, Miss Raine."
Derek offered a small, strained smile. "Thank you. For saying that. Truly."
****
As the hours passed, darkness settled over the town, bringing with it the serene beauty of a Yuletide evening. Godric and Raine bid farewell to their friends, leaving Rowena and Helga behind to their chatter while Derek and Marcus remained slumped in their seats, recovering from their sugary ordeal. The fading light gave way to a soft glow from the crystal lamps lining the city park, their festive Yuletide decorations casting gentle shadows on the paved pathways.
The two strolled along the shoreline, where metal railings separated the tranquil lake waters from the snowy ground. In the distance, Castle Excalibur loomed magnificently against the starlit sky, its silhouette framed by the darkened treeline of the forest. They eventually stopped by the railings, leaning against them as they gazed across the frozen lake. The distant pavilion came into view, its shape barely visible in the dim light, and a soft smile crept across Godric's face. Memories of their early lessons—of laughter, challenges, and shared moments—flooded his mind. It felt like a different lifetime now, a world apart from where they stood.
Raine rested her head softly against his arm, the quiet between them comfortable and warm.
"I don't know about you, Raine," Godric said with a chuckle, rubbing his stomach, "but I'm absolutely stuffed. If I see another slice of chocolate fudge, it'll be too soon."
Raine laughed. "Your friend Helga is a bottomless pit. I'm still in awe of how she polished off three entire cakes and was still talking about pie."
"Yeah, well, Helga's love for food is something else," Godric replied with a grin. "But you should try her cooking—she's incredible in the kitchen. Apparently, when Chef Gusteau isn't chasing her out of the pantry with his rolling pin, they swap recipes."
Raine giggled. "It's always such a sight to see her darting through the kitchen with Chef yelling after her in some language I can't even begin to decipher. She's an absolute menace."
He chuckled along with her, the sound of their laughter blending with the winter breeze. For a moment, the world seemed to pause, leaving only the two of them bathed in the soft glow of the Yuletide lights.
Godric glanced at Raine, startled when she spoke. "Godric, I'm sorry," she said suddenly. He turned to her, concern flickering in his crimson eyes. "We're supposed to be happy. A fun day out." Her wolfen ears drooped, brushing against her silver hair. "Instead, I just…"
"Hey," he interrupted gently, his hand rising to caress her cheek. "It's okay." His gaze met hers, steady and warm. "I'm not mad, just… surprised, is all." He offered a small shrug. "I didn't know. Like you, I thought with that collar gone, everything would just… fall into place. That life would magically be alright."
His expression grew distant, his fingers running through his hair. "I guess Professor Serfence was right. I am a fool. I cling to these ideas—that if you fight hard enough, believe in something strongly enough, everything will work out. But life isn't a storybook, and happily ever afters aren't just handed to us."
Raine leaned in, brushing a soft kiss against his cheek. Her tail wagged faintly behind her as she smiled up at him. "That's not entirely true, is it?" she whispered. "I'm here, aren't I?"
A flicker of warmth returned to Godric's face as he smiled back at her. "Well, that's one way to look at it," he murmured, pulling her close. He hesitated for a moment before his gaze softened further. "You know, I already know the answer, but I want to hear it from you."
"Hm?" Raine tilted her head, her golden eyes curious.
"The Yuletide Ball is tomorrow night," he began as he held her gaze. "And I was wondering… will you be my date?"
Raine blinked, her surprise melting into a soft laugh. "Oh, you silly boy," she said, her cheeks flushing faintly as she rested her head against his chest. "Of course, I will."
Godric's arms tightened around her, holding her as if the moment might slip away. "I love you, Raine. For all time."
She smiled, her voice a tender whisper. "And I love you, my brave lion."