The wheelchair-bound warrior is speedrunning Hogwarts.

"Actually, if you still have homework to do, I can do it myself," Vera said softly, without moving away.

"Don't move." Sera's voice came from above, with a hint of unyielding stubbornness. "You just said you wanted my help."

Vera pursed her lips and stopped talking, simply sitting quietly as those hands moved through her hair.

The towel was changed; it went from half-damp to slightly damp, and from slightly damp to barely damp.

Sera's movements were slow, so slow that it didn't seem like she was drying her hair, but rather like she was using the movement to confirm something.

She stopped moving only after the last drop of moisture had evaporated, but she didn't immediately back away. Her fingers remained on Vera's hair, her fingertips gently caressing the few strands of hair that had been smoothed by the rubbing.

"It's over," she said softly, a hint of melancholy in her voice, as if regretting that the process was too short.

Vera turned her head and met those crimson eyes that hadn't yet recovered their emotions, and a corner of her heart softened again.

"Thank you." She smiled and took the slightly damp towel from Sera's hand, her fingertips accidentally brushing against the back of Sera's hand.

Sera paused, then instinctively reached out and grabbed her hand, her fingertips stroking the warm back of her hand a few times.

This wasn't the first time she'd held Vera's hand, but... it was so soft and smooth.

For some reason, the adjective suddenly popped into her mind. Sera's eyelashes trembled slightly, as if startled by her own thoughts, but she did not let go of her hand. She just held it loosely, her fingertips touching the skin on Vera's hand that was slightly red from being wiped with a towel.

"Your hands are so warm," she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of guilt that she herself didn't realize.

Vera looked down at the hand that was covering the back of her hand. The knuckles were distinct, and there were thin calluses on the fingertips, but it had fewer traces of the years than it had later.

"It's like this after a shower." She didn't pull her hand away or clench it back; she just let that hand cover the back of her hand, letting the warmth gradually transfer to her.

Sera responded, her fingers tightening a little more before finally loosening after a few seconds. She then turned and walked back to her desk.

The quill pen that had been set aside still sat beside the ink bottle, the writing on the parchment stopped halfway through, the last letter leaving a thin trail of ink, like an unconscious mark left by the writer when he was lost in thought.

Sera sat down, the warmth of that person still lingering in her palms, burning all the way to her heart through her thin skin.

She picked up her pen, stared at the ink mark for a while, and then continued writing, her handwriting becoming a bit more sloppy than before.

Vera leaned against the headboard, her gaze passing over the open pages of the book and landing on the straight back of the man at the desk. She couldn't help but smile slightly, then lay down and turned to face Sera.

The candlelight flickered between the two, casting the shadow of the man bent over his desk onto the opposite wall. His straight back, slightly taut shoulders, and the hand holding the pen—every detail exuded deliberate care.

"Aren't you going to sleep yet?" Vera asked softly.

“There’s still a little bit left to write.” Sera’s voice drifted over from the desk, the pen tip making a soft scratching sound on the paper.

The voice was unhurried, unlike her usual writing speed; it was much slower, as if she were repeatedly tracing something.

Vera didn't speak again, but quietly watched the shadow, watching it slowly relax from its stiffness, watching the hand holding the pen go from tense to relaxed, and watching the candlelight reflect on that young and beautiful face.

She looked at Sera's profile, gradually closed her eyes, and her breathing gradually calmed down.

The rustling sound of writing stopped at some point, and the candle flame was extinguished with a soft breath.

A rustling sound came from the darkness. Sera rose gently, her bare feet stepping across the floor, and softly lifted the curtain.

Looking at the person who was already fast asleep, her heart, which had finally calmed down, quietly started to race again.

Logically speaking, she should have taken it step by step, otherwise scaring Vera would have been counterproductive.

but…

Sera could never find peace of mind whenever she thought about how this person had silently disappeared from her sight so many times before.

Although she was promised that Vera could stay here for a while, what if something unexpected happened?

What if she wakes up to find that this person has disappeared again?

She could only wait passively, waiting for Vera to come to her only when she occasionally thought of her, just like a noble lady who favored her lover.

Sera couldn't bear for this to happen again, but this was precisely the one thing she felt powerless to change.

Looking down at the unguarded face in the deep sleep, Sera's tense jaw relaxed slightly. She lifted the blanket and slipped inside with lightning speed.

In the darkness, cool hands gently wrapped around the slender waist of the sleeping person inside the blankets.

Vera, seemingly sensing something in her sleep, turned slightly to the side, her nose brushing against Sera's bangs, and let out a muffled murmur.

Sera's body stiffened for a moment, and she even held her breath.

She felt Vera's warm breath brush against her brow, and could feel the body relax again after a brief adjustment, even subconsciously leaning closer to her.

She waited a long time, long enough to be sure that Vera hadn't woken up, before she dared to slowly exhale.

Her arms were still wrapped around Vera's waist, and through the thin fabric, she could feel that the temperature there was warmer than elsewhere.

She dared not tighten her grip, nor loosen it; she simply remained in that position, like a bird that had secretly hidden in someone else's nest, huddled in the very edge of the corner, yet already feeling that her whole heart was filled.

A sliver of moonlight peeked through the gap in the curtains and fell precisely on Vera's profile.

Sera watched as the silver line traced her brow bone, slid down her nose, and lingered at her slightly parted lips.

She tried to reach out and touch her, but her fingertips barely lifted before she pulled back, burying her face in Vera's shoulder instead.

There was a scent of freesia and pine needles mixed together, dry and warm, exactly like the smell of that Christmas night in her memory.

Sera closed her eyes and felt Vera's heartbeat seeping through the fabric, slow and steady, like a clock that would never stop.

Everything fell silent, with only two intermittent breaths rising and falling in the night.

……

The next day, Vera, who was still half asleep, instinctively frowned when she heard a rustling sound beside her.

She rolled over and mumbled sleepily, "Harley, stop messing with me..."

"Who is Harley?" a low voice whispered in my ear, husky with the distinctive raspiness of early morning.

Almost instantly, Vera snapped back to reality.

She opened her eyes and met a pair of crimson eyes that were inches away from hers.

But now, those eyes are filled with an emotion called jealousy.

Vera was stunned for a moment, and all her drowsiness vanished completely at that instant.

She instinctively tried to shrink back, but Sera's arm gently caught her around the waist.

She then realized that she was almost curled up in the other person's arms, with the back of her head against his shoulder and her legs intertwined with his.

This pose is far too intimate.

“You…” Vera’s voice was a little dry, “Why are you sleeping here?”

Sera didn't answer her questions, but just stared at her, her eyes shining brightly in the morning light: "Who is Harley? And... who is Hermione you were talking about in your dream?"

Vera was stumped by the question. She opened her mouth, but for a moment she didn't know how to explain.

She remained silent for quite a while, and noticing her resistance to answering the question, Sera lowered her eyes, released her arm from her waist, and sat up, her long hair falling down to cover half of her face.

"Is it someone you used to know?" she asked, her voice so calm it was devoid of emotion.

Vera sat up as well, looking at Sera's back. The girl's shoulders were taut and her back was straight, as if she was deliberately maintaining a certain posture.

"Yes," Vera finally told the truth, "Harley and Hermione... are both my lovers."

Sera's back froze instantly.

"Lover." After a long pause, she repeated the word, her voice as soft as if she were chewing on a green fruit.

She didn't turn around, she just sat there, her long hair hanging down, completely obscuring her expression.

"Both of them?"

"Hmm." Vera neither denied nor defended herself, but simply watched the stiff back of the figure quietly, waiting for the questioning and anger that might come her way, or something else.

But Sera remained silent, maintaining that posture for a long time, so long that Vera thought she wouldn't speak again, before she finally opened her mouth.

“Then they must be very good people.” She finally spoke, her voice surprisingly calm, “to win your favor.”

Vera paused for a moment, then saw Sera turn around, her crimson irises standing out starkly in the shadows. "So, they can accept that you like many people at the same time? Like those noblemen's lovers?"

“Of course they’re different.” Vera couldn’t help but frown, correcting her seriously, her tone more solemn than before. “They are my lovers, not mistresses.”

Whether it's Harley or Hermione, neither of us is subordinate to the other, nor is the other merely someone's amusement.

She knew that in the era in which Serra lived, almost everyone in the so-called upper class in Britain had a lover, which was a tradition that had been maintained in Europe for hundreds of years.

But this kind of relationship doesn't apply to the feelings between them at all.

Sera didn't answer, but just lowered her eyes, her lips pressed tightly together, and her fingers unconsciously clenched the corner of the blanket.

The morning light peeked through the gaps in the curtains, cutting a clear line of light and shadow across her face, revealing every subtle change in her expression.

Feeling a pang of pity for her dejected expression, Vera hesitated, wanting to reach out her hand, but Vera gently dodged her.

“It’s getting late,” Sera said, throwing back the covers and getting up with a swift movement as if she were running away from something. “I’m going to wash up.”

Vera watched the figure disappear through the bathroom door, listening to the deliberately soft sound of the door closing, before letting out a deep sigh after a long while.

She admitted that she had some selfish motives for saying that.

The reason is actually quite simple: she didn't want Sera of this era to suffer so much because of her future departure.

So... if we shatter the perfect image of Vera Black in her mind, could we at least slightly alleviate her obsession?

She leaned against the headboard, her fingers unconsciously stroking the hourglass around her neck, her gaze falling on the faint soot marks left by candlelight on the top of the curtains.

Besides, some things still need to be clarified eventually.

"What are you thinking about?" Sera's voice came from the direction of the bathroom, carrying a hint of dampness.

Vera looked up and saw her leaning against the door frame, her hair neatly combed, but the collar of her school robe was still unbuttoned, revealing her fair skin below her collarbone.

“It’s nothing.” Vera looked away and got up to make the bed. “I was just thinking about whether to Apparate or ride a broomstick when we go to Craigmore Coast later.”

Sera walked over and sat down on the other bed, her gaze falling on Vera's hands as she folded the blankets.

Those hands were very steady, straightening the corner of the blanket and patting the dust off the pillow, the movements were so swift as if they had done it a thousand times.

"Did you used to fold their blankets for them?" she suddenly asked.

Vera paused, without looking up: "Sometimes when I get busy..."

Sera paused for a moment, then didn't press the matter further. She simply watched quietly as Sera tidied the bed, rummaged through the closet for a thick coat, and handed one over as well.

Somewhat surprised, Vera took the cloak. The fabric was fine wool, with a thin layer of fleece sewn into the lining. She looked up, smiled, and asked, "When was this prepared?"

It even happened to be her size.

Sera turned her face away and walked straight to the door: "It's better to buy it on a whim than to catch a cold from the wind at the beach."

Vera watched the figure walk out the door, draped her cloak over her shoulders, and quickly followed.

Hogwarts was shrouded in a thin mist in the early morning. The surface of the Black Lake shimmered with a leaden gray light, and a few owls flapped their wings and flew past the edge of the Forbidden Forest in the distance.

The two walked side by side on the path leading to the school gate, neither of them speaking. Sera walked half a step ahead, her back straight, the hem of her cloak fluttering gently in the morning breeze.

Vera watched her back, at her long hair blowing in the wind, and suddenly quickened her pace to walk alongside her.

Sera paused slightly, without turning her head, but slowed her pace.

"Apparition or riding a broomstick?" Vera asked.

“A broom.” Sera pulled a somewhat worn broom from under her cloak, her tone flat. “I’ll take you.”

Vera blinked, not quite reacting yet, before Sera had already mounted her broom and turned to look at her.

The morning light cast a thin layer of gold on her face, and Vera's slightly stunned expression was reflected in her crimson eyes. Her lips were slightly pursed: "What, you don't want to?"

Vera chuckled, sat down behind her, and naturally wrapped her arms around her waist: "I'm holding on tight."

As the broom soared into the air, Vera's body stiffened slightly before relaxing, her back resting gently on Sera's shoulder.

The wind whistled past their ears, tangling their long hair and sending it fluttering in the morning light.

The Craigmore coast was farther than I had imagined; the sun was just rising when my broom swept across the Scottish Highlands moors.

The distant sea shimmered with golden light, and the seabirds on the cliffs were startled by the air currents from the broom, circling around the edge of the cliffs like a white cloud.

“Over there.” Vera tilted her head slightly, her chin almost brushing against Sera’s earlobe.

The shadow senses sketched a vague outline in her mind—the thing was lurking among the reefs at the easternmost point of the coast, much larger than she had expected.

Sera didn't say anything, but simply adjusted the direction slightly, and the broom swooped down towards the group of rocks.

The sea breeze rushed into her sleeves, and Vera tightened her arms, feeling Sera's heartbeat through the fabric, faster than she had expected.

The landing site was a sheltered rocky beach, where the seawater rose and fell among the rocks, making a dull rumble.