1
On the spring equinox, dawn found Fleur leaving the gates of the modest keep she had spent the last few weeks at. The short visit that Harry had offered her after their meeting in the Pale Forest had grown in length, first to days, and then to weeks.
She returned the guards’ friendly waves and greetings, a striking difference from her mornings at her family’s home. It was the easy smiles, warmth, and acceptance that she had found here, among strangers, that were keeping her staying at the warding keep close to the accursed wood crawling with undead.
At least that was what she was telling herself.
Fleur just crested a grassy hill when the sun finally rose fully over the horizon, and its rays spilt across the landscape. The golden light fell upon her dark grey cotehardie, reflecting off the brass buttons going down her chest. She had chosen dark green leggings and knee-high shoes, as she was going to a nearby forest, thankfully smaller and much safer than the teeming mass of malice that was looming close by.
But first, she turned to face the golden disc rising in the sky with a smile, and basked in the light for a moment. For on what day if not today should one greet the sun? Finally, its light would dominate the majority of the day.
Over her shoulder, she had a dark mantle, and a large pouch hung from her belt. Her long strides quickly brought her to the tree line, and she gave a respectful bow before entering the forest’s boundary. Small as it may be, it was still worthy of respect.
When a calm whisper caressed her ear like a gentle blow of the wind, she gave a small smile and stepped forth between the trees. Making sure not to damage any plants, she carefully sought her path between the trees and shrubs, carefully looking out for any startled animals. She wanted this trip to go smoothly and quickly, as there was still much to be done on this day. Finally, she beheld her target. There, in front of her, was a flowering shrub that blossomed exactly on the equinox. Heavy blooms hung from the branches, their colour reminding her of the sun. She loosened the string on her pouch and took out a crystal vial.
”Hello.” She gently caressed the branches of the shrub. “When light beats back darkness and you bloom, I come to you,” she whispered the words she had been taught as a child and had detested. An ancient rite of her people, one she had thought pointless and frivolous once. Yet there she was. “I come to you, to ask for a gift which I can give to another.”
Uncorking the crystal vial, Fleur poured its contents on the roots of the shrub. “Please, accept my meagre gift in exchange.” And when a whisper reached her, carried by soft wind, Fleur smiled. “Thank you for accepting.” Very slowly and carefully, she snapped off one of the flowers and put it inside the vial, before corking it again and hiding it in its pouch.
The wind carried another whisper to her ear, this time sounding more like a giggle coming from tiny lips. “Yes.” Fleur would deny she blushed when talking to the spirit of the shrub. “Yes, the gift is for this purpose.” She nodded with a serious expression on her sharp features. “And yes, I think he is worthy.”
The spirit answered her with another giggle, and the wind seemed to caress Fleur’s cheeks, which elicited a rare smile on her face. “We will see, won’t we? But for now, farewell, and thank you again.”
She caressed the branches again, and headed back to the castle with a spring in her long stride. The day was young, and she had a lot to prepare for.
Her next destination were the kitchens.
2
He had just finished the drills with the men-at-arms in the courtyard, when he registered the commotion. His fellow squires chuckled as they beheld the rotund master of the castle’s kitchen approach him, all puffed up and quite irate.
“Squire Potter,” the usually amicable chef began, “you know I and my staff are tolerant of incursions.” He points a rolling pin at Harry, as if he was wielding a sword. “And you also well know we have gladly welcomed your guest.”
“I am aware of both, dear master Albert.” Harry put up his hands in surrender when faced with the point of the rolling pin. “And it warms my heart that you have accepted Fleur so kindly.”
“Yes, well…” The chef lowered his rolling pin slightly. “It is your friend that is the issue. You see, she has claimed the kitchen as her own!” The rolling pin came up again.
“What do you mean? Has she disturbed your kitchen?” Harry looks him over. “Nobody here has felt any disturbance.” And indeed, in fact, several of the household spirits of the castle even had chosen to manifest themselves as diminutive figures sitting in the shade of a tree, and had been cheering at Harry and the men-at-arms during their practice.
“Still, please, come with me,” the master of the kitchens asked Harry.
“Very well.” He nodded. “Give me a moment to clean up, master Albert, and I will go see to this matter.”
The chef was impatiently tapping his food while Harry wiped off the sweat from his exercise and dunked his head into a trough.
“Well, almost ready to go.” He was drying himself off, leaving his hair even more of a mess than usual. “Now, lead the way.” Master Albert nodded tersely and set a fast pace towards the kitchens. There, Harry beheld the aftermath of a fierce battle. White powder was floating in the air and milk stained several surfaces. Surrounded by this carnage stood Fleur, flour in her hair and clinging to her face, while she was intently watching the oven.
“My kitchen!” Master Albert wailed, falling to his knees.
“Fear not, master Albert.” Harry put a hand on his shoulder. “I am sure your kitchen will soon be in a pristine condition again.” He then turned to take a closer look at Fleur. “But I would be very interested in how this state of affairs came to be.”
“The ingredients and pots did not cooperate,” she spoke softly while still watching the oven.
“Clearly.” Master Albert huffed and took out his wand and waved it in a complicated pattern. A slight breeze went through the kitchen, gathering the floating flour into a clump that hung in the air right where the tip of his wand was. “There, that is better.”
“Fleur?” Harry walked over to Fleur to look her in the eyes. “What is the matter?”
Her face twisted itself in a grimace. “Today is spring equinox. It is a tradition in my home to bake a cake.” She gestures to encompass the messy kitchen.
“I understand.” He nodded. “Let’s clean up the kitchen before the good master Albert bars us from visiting this castle again.”
Fleur nodded with a sigh. “Yes, a good idea. The cake should be fine now in the oven.”
Together, under the loud supervision of the kitchen’s true master, they cleaned, making sure it would be spotless before they were allowed to leave.
“You should open the oven now,” Albert interrupted them, sniffing the air. “Unless my nose deceives me, it is the right time to take the cake out.”
“Master Albert’s nose has yet to deceive him,” Harry whispered into Fleur’s ear, making sure the chef heard them.
She gives a serious nod and with Albert’s assistance, she opens the oven and takes the cake out. “It is…” Harry trails off, seeing the shape of the cake.
Fleur remains silent, looking at her creation with an unreadable expression on her face. To Harry’s mind, she appeared as if she was getting ready for a fight.
“Unique shape,” Albert interrupted Harry. “Certainly unique. I am looking forward to tasting it when the time is right. When will you cut the cake, Miss Fleur?” He looks at her with a degree of protectiveness, which is repaid by the tiniest suggestion of a smile on her lips.
“This evening, master Albert. This evening.”
3
After Fleur’s announcement in the castle kitchens, Harry had been looking forward to the evening. Many of the castle’s inhabitants were busy making preparations for the celebration of the equinox. Musicians were practising, cooks were busy, while the younger folk, including Harry, were outside, decorating a meadow close to the castle.
There were several bonfires prepared, and long tables where people could sit down and eat. Flowers were hanging from poles, and colourful ribbons were dancing with the wind.
And then the sun was setting, the preparations were complete. Musicians brought out fiddles, pipes, and flutes, and the people from the castle and surrounding area startled trickling in.
Soon, the tables were groaning under tureens with a variety of soups, covered platters with roasts, fresh bread, salads, and more.
When the visitors all arrived, the lord of the castle, Sir Edward, stood tall at the head of the longest table and clapped once.
“Dear visitors, be it from my own castle, or from far and wide, be welcome!” The aged knight spread his arms and his beard quivered when he smiled. “Be seated! Drink, eat, and be merry! Tonight, we celebrate the spring equinox!”
He was answered by a wild cheer from the gathered people, and then the musicians started playing their first song. First the pipes, then the flutes joined in, and finally, the fiddles added their cheery, lively tunes.
Harry and Fleur were seated next to each other at one of the smaller tables, both looking into the tureens to see what soups were available.
“So, will you tell me what you are planning to do with your cake?” Harry asked, not for the first time.
“Not yet.” Fleur’s lips curved upwards in a small smile. “But I recommend you eat lightly.”
“Oh?” He looked at her and then at the spot near the musicians. “Dancing?” “You’ll see, but later.” She started filling her plate with venison broth, and then offered the tureen to him.
“Thank you.” He followed her example and filled his plate with the deliciously smelling broth.
There were many meals ahead. Harry enjoyed a slice of honey-glazed roast pork with vegetables and fresh bread, while Fleur chose a grilled trout with green beans and almonds.
The feast grew even merrier as the bonfires were lit, and people started trickling to the musicians. Sir Edward himself was in high demand as many a lady wanted to take the gallant man for a spin. On this night, he wouldn’t say no.
“Do you want to join them?” Harry pointed at the laughing group that tried to move to the rhythm of the music.
“Not just yet.” Fleur shook her head. “Save your strength.”
He noticed that Fleur’s gaze often crept to the castle. “Awaiting something?”
She nodded, and pointed to a couple that was bringing in a tall stool and a platter covered with a lid. “Yes. Now on your feet, come on!”
Chuckling to himself, he followed her. The couple were cooks, some of those who had eventually helped Fleur with decorating her cake. And so he had a good idea of what was on the platter. The cooks placed the stool down, making sure it would be stable, and put the platter on top.
“I know I am a guest here—” Fleur spoke up, “—but I thought I would bring in some of my people’s traditions for the spring equinox.” She nodded at one of the cooks, who lifted the lid, revealing her cake. Misshapen it may have been, the icing did much to conceal that fact.
When enough people gathered around their group, Fleur spoke up again. “I want to thank the people here for being as warm and accepting as they are. This humble cake is my thanks, and in the spirit of this night, let there be a competition!”
The crowd cheered at her words, and it seemed to invigorate her. “The couple that dances the best shall have the right to cut the cake!” Once again the crowd cheered and people started pairing off. Sir Edward bowed courteously to the castle’s chief herbalist, master Albert found his arms full of a cheerful miller, and many more couples formed.
“So, is that why you told me to save my strength?” Harry spoke up at her side.
“Correct.”
“Then may I have this dance?” Harry bowed to her and offered her his arm. “Though I have to warn you, I am not the best of dancers.”
She graciously accepted his arm and giggled. “Does it matter tonight?”
“No.” He looked around at the laughing dancers. “I don’t think it does.”
And they joined the others, twirling and hopping on the grassy ground to the sound of cheers, bawdy songs, and lively music.
The ground was far from even, and neither were exactly graceful, yet in both of their recollection, this dance by far overcame the Yule Ball in how they enjoyed it. Evening gave way to night, there were now many clusters of dancers, each choosing their own dance and tune. Harry and Fleur were flushed from their dance, even though the audience had chosen master Albert and his partner as the best dancers.
They were now each enjoying a slice of Fleur’s cake. Fortunately, while its shape may have left something to be desired, it tasted just fine, sweet, with hints of fruit.
“So that’s how the Fair Folk celebrate the spring equinox?” Harry finished his slice of the cake and wiped his mouth with a napkin.
She answered him with a nod. “Yes, or it is one of our traditions. Much like you, we have a broad range of ways to celebrate. Many are quite similar.” Her look encompassed the groups dancing around bonfires. “We also like fun and dances.”
“Any other interesting traditions?”
“I’m glad you asked. Follow me.” She beckoned to one of the smaller bonfires where they would have a measure of privacy. When they arrived there, she opened the pouch on her belt and brought out a crystal vial with a flower preserved inside. “There is another tradition that I—” she gulped nervously, “—that I would like to show you.” Her eyes suddenly found the ground fascinating. “You, all of you, have been so very warm and welcoming to me. Don’t interrupt.” She quickly stopped him before he could speak. “You have made me feel welcome and at home here more than my own family has ever had. “In the past weeks, you have been a very good friend to me.” She dared look into his warm green eyes, and fell silent for a moment.
Harry did not dare speak up to interrupt her flow of thoughts, but laid a warm hand on her shoulders and gave her a soft smile.
“My people have another tradition. The spring equinox is considered a fortunate time to… We give a fresh flower to… to the person we wish to court.” Her cheeks were flushed from more than just dancing now. “You have been a great friend to me, but… would you like to try for more?”
His gentle fingers closed around her hand which held the flower, and he leaned to smell the blossom.
“I certainly would.”