( 𝔳𝔬𝔩𝔲𝔪𝔢 𝔦, 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 ) — home is where the heart is

There was only one word which best described the foyer of Rosier Manor — gothic. A grand oak staircase stood in the center of the room, grasping every guests attention, its steps plastered with an embroidered emerald carpet. It split off into two on the first floor, where the walls of the landing held hundreds of ornate ancestral portraits. Two silver snake statues flanked the bottom of the staircase, their gemstone eyes glinting in the waxy candles upheld by an iron-wrought chandelier.

Evangeline had already dismissed her house elf, Pinky, with her travelling cloak and luggage. Her heels clicked against the polished marble floors as she crossed the foyer, through the impressive drawing room, and into the family dining room. Adonis and Opal Rosier sat patiently at the dark wooden table, set with the finest china and platinum candlesticks. The chairs were button-tufted and velveteen green, the same shade as the textured wallpaper. A fireplace was the main feature of this room, blazing a hearty fire.

''Father, mother,'' the brunette greeted, taking her designated seat. ''Per your request, I have returned home for the holidays.''

''Evangeline,'' Adonis acknowledged. ''It is a pleasure to have you back, your mother and myself have been expecting you.''

''Pinky!'' Opal called, an order for the house elves to begin sending up dinner.

Glazed turkeys, the size of a Hippogriff's head, bloomed on the engraved platters, crowned with rosemary and segments of lemon. Buttered broccoli and carrots followed, but not before mounds upon mounds of roast potatoes. A couple boats of gravy and stacks of Yorkshire puddings joined the feast, accompanied by bunches of caviar, white truffles, and oysters served in their shells.

Dinner at the Rosier's was a custom that had to be learnt. Elbows off the table, sit up straight, chew with your mouth closed, take small bites, don't talk with your mouth full, use your napkin and the correct utensils, and make pleasant conversation.

Except, this time, the conversation was anything but pleasant. It was an interrogation of some sort, subtle but not subtle enough, led by none other than Adonis.

''How is seventh year so far, Evangeline?'' Her father asked, never once daring to shorten his daughter's name to something as silly as ❛Eve❜. In his opinion, a name was a title, and when it was followed by a surname as prestigious as Rosier, it was a cardinal sin to use anything other but the one granted at birth. ''I do hope you are keeping your studies to a sublime standard.''

''It is going quite well so far,'' she replied. ''My studies are excellent. I am at the top of each class, and I intend to ensure it stays that way.''

''Wonderful,'' Opal nodded, merely picking at the food on her own plate. ''And your friends? How are they all?''

''Sylvia is . . . ordinary. Juliet is over the moon, what with her and Apollo's engagement, and he has always proved himself to be a fine match for her. Pollux is the same as always, if not a little more downcast than usual. And Cassius . . . he has been acting somewhat odd since the start of the year, but other than that he is as gentlemanly as ever.''

''Yes, Cassius is an exceptional young man,'' Adonis noted, sipping from a wine-filled goblet.

Opal admired her rings in the candlelight, the engagement and wedding bands winking at the teenage girl. ''What would you say about Juliet and Apollo's betrothment from your perspective, Evangeline?''

''As I have said, Juliet is more than happy, it seems to be the only topic she can talk about these days. Dresses, flowers, jewels, guests, heirs, the lot. There is no doubt in my mind that Apollo will be a magnificent husband, and I can only wish to find something like those two have one day.''

Evangeline missed the glance her parents shared, a small smirk gracing her mother's full lips. ''You mean that their arrangement is something you would want yourself, dear?''

''Of course. It has always been known that as a woman in pure-blood society, your role is to excel. Excel at everything, but especially gracing your family name, finding an astounding mach, and bearing an heir for your husband.''

''That is quite right,'' Adonis agreed, proud. ''There is an ulterior motive for you being home for the holidays, Evangeline. It is a matter which we hoped would be halfway there before your arrival, but I received word that the two of you were unfortunately interrupted.''

''I'm afraid I don't understand,'' she began. ''What matter?''

''The matter that is your betrothal to Cassius Nott.''

For a few seconds, no words were spoken. There would've been a very heavy silence, if not for the scraping of silver forks against Goblin-made china. Evangeline's mind was processing the information slowly, unusual for such a bright girl.

''I am nonplussed,'' Opal uttered. ''Your father and I thought you would be pleased, Evangeline.''

''No, I am,'' the brunette began, slightly dazed. ''It is just that . . . well, it is not something I was expecting. Whenever there was talk of marriage, father always insisted it would not be until after my graduation.''

''That was the plan, yes,'' Adonis admitted. ''However, Sir Nott proposed the idea to me not that long ago. Both you and Cassius only have a couple months of education left, and the wedding will not be until the spring after this one.''

''I suppose Cassius is not bad,'' Evangeline thought.

''Cassius is anything but bad,'' Opal expressed. ''He is a handsome young man, heir to a great fortune, and the oldest son of a Sacred Twenty-Eight family. Since the Selwyn's snatched up Apollo Greengrass, Nott is the only considerable English man left, which is another reason why this must have happened sooner rather than later.''

''I see. So, what is the plan now?''

''Affairs are to carry on as usual. I expect nothing but the absolute best from your NEWT results, Evangeline, unless that fool Dumbledore wishes to lose his job. Cassius was meant to propose with the ring on the last Hogsmeade trip, but now it will happen at the Christmas Ball. After graduation, you are to come back home until the wedding, after which you will move to one of the Nott estates.''

''Are we clear, Evangeline?''

''Yes, mother.''