Before the steam at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters had even dissipated, Liliana spotted her older sister through the gaps in the crowd.
It was hard not to.
Alicia stood dead center on the platform. Her trunk had tipped over at her feet, the lid popped open, clothes and parchment scrolls spilling all over the ground.
A single sock hung from the lid's hinge, fluttering in the wind.
She herself was crouching on the ground picking things up, her golden-brown hair hanging down and sweeping the station's floor tiles.
The hem of her robe trailed on the ground, gathering a layer of dust.
She was completely oblivious to the fact that a passing wizard had stepped on her scarf.
The other end of the scarf was still wrapped around her neck, and as the wizard walked further away, the scarf tightened inch by inch.
Liliana's short little legs sprinted through the crowd like she was running a hundred-meter dash.
"Alicia!
Your scarf!
Your scarf!"
"Hmm?
What sca... urgh, cough, cough, cough!"
The scarf choked her throat, and Alicia's face turned the color of a tomato.
She grabbed the edges of the scarf with both hands and pulled outward.
The wizard stepping on the scarf was yanked off-balance by her action. He looked back, quickly lifted his foot, and the scarf snapped out from under his sole, slapping Alicia across the face with a smack.
By the time Liliana rushed up to her, Alicia was sitting among her scattered luggage, coughing, two physiological tears squeezed from the corners of her eyes.
Her golden-brown hair was a tangled bird's nest, and her scarf hung crookedly around her neck, bearing a clear shoe print.
Liliana stood with her hands on her hips, looking down at her.
The first-year witch's height only reached the adult witch's waistline.
The dimple on her round baby face had vanished because her lips were pressed tightly together, and her golden-brown eyes were full of "I knew this would happen."
"Alicia."
"Li-Lily? Why are you here? Didn't I say I could..."
"Look at yourself."
Liliana crouched down, her small fingers pinching Alicia's chin, turning her face to look left and right.
Her thumb rubbed over her cheekbone; the contour of the cheekbone protruded a bit more than the last time they met, and her cheeks had lost a ring of flesh.
"You haven't been eating properly lately, have you? You've lost weight."
"No I haven't, I've been eating..."
"Did you eat breakfast?"
"...I did."
"What did you eat?"
"...Bread."
"What time did you eat it?"
"...Two in the afternoon."
Liliana's fingers released Alicia's chin. She took a deep breath, the fabric of her school robe tightening over her chest for a moment during the inhale.
The first-year witch's bust stretched the robe into a curve entirely unbefitting her age.
She closed her eyes, counted to three, and opened them.
"You call bread eaten at two in the afternoon breakfast?"
"Because it was the first meal I ate after waking up, so by definition..."
"What time did you wake up?"
"...Half-past one in the afternoon."
Liliana took another deep breath.
Wizards bustling about the platform skirted around the sisters.
A few people cast extra glances, probably trying to figure out exactly who was the older sister and who was the younger.
Because the one crouching on the ground being lectured was clearly an adult, while the one standing with her hands on her hips lecturing was clearly not even up to people's waists.
"Get up."
Liliana held out her hand.
Alicia took her hand, and Liliana yanked upward, but couldn't move her.
The height and weight difference was right there; a first-year witch's arm strength couldn't pull up an adult witch.
Instead, Alicia's center of gravity was pulled off-balance by the direction of the yank. She leaned forward, the heavy weight of the two mounds cradled in her robe swaying for a beat with the forward tilt, nearly knocking Liliana over.
"Stand up yourself!"
"Oh, right."
Alicia braced her hands on the ground and stood up.
Her robe was covered in dust, a dead leaf of unknown origin hung in her hair, her scarf bore a shoe print, and her trunk still lay on the ground with its lid open.
Liliana circled around her, dusting off her robe from behind, standing on tiptoe to pluck the dead leaf from her hair, untying the scarf and giving it two shakes to fade the shoe print before re-tying it.
Then she crouched down to gather the scattered clothes and parchment scrolls back into the trunk piece by piece, closed the lid, and fastened the lock with a click.
The entire sequence of actions flowed like water, as practiced as if she had done it a thousand times.
Alicia stood in place, hands hanging at her sides, her golden-brown eyes following Liliana's figure back and forth, her lips pouting.
"...Are you the older sister or am I the older sister?"
"You are the older sister. But you don't act like it."
"How do I not act like it!"
"In every way. Let's go, Diagon Alley first. You can't be seen looking like this."
Liliana walked ahead, dragging the trunk.
The wheels of the trunk rumbled across the station's floor tiles.
The trunk wasn't much shorter than her height; the way she walked dragging it looked like a squirrel dragging a nut three times its size.
Alicia followed behind, taking large strides, but her sense of direction was roughly zero. She turned toward the wrong exit after three steps, was glared at by Liliana over her shoulder, and obediently turned back.
The entrance to Diagon Alley was in the backyard of the Leaky Cauldron.
Liliana tapped the correct combination on the brick wall with her wand; the bricks tumbled to open the passage, and the noise and smells of Diagon Alley rushed out together.
"Eat first."
"But I'm not..."
"Eat first."
Liliana grabbed Alicia's cuff and walked into the third shop on the left side of Diagon Alley.
The sign read "Mrs. Pudge's Pie Shop." The shop was filled with the aroma of beef pies and thick pumpkin soup.
Steam billowed from the kitchen window, condensing into a warm layer of mist on the ceiling of the dining area.
She pressed Alicia into a window seat.
Alicia's knee bumped against the edge of the table with a thud, causing the salt shaker on the table to wobble.
"One beef pie, one thick pumpkin soup, one roast chicken leg, and a hot Butterbeer."
Liliana stood on tiptoe, leaning over the counter to shout inside, her round baby face just peeking over the top edge of the counter. "And add an apple pudding, make it hot."
"Lily, I really can't eat that much..."
"You've lost weight."
"I haven't..."
"Your cheekbones protrude 0.5 centimeters more than last month, your jawline has narrowed, and the depth of your collarbone hollows has increased by at least two millimeters.
Did you think I wouldn't notice?"
Alicia's mouth hung open, unable to close.
"...You can eyeball even that?"
"I am your sister, of course I can.
Eat!"
The pie was still steaming when it was served, the surface of the flaky pastry baked to a golden brown, almost identical to the sisters' hair color.
Liliana pushed the pie in front of Alicia, breaking off a small piece of the crust's corner for herself and chewing it. Her golden-brown eyes stared at Alicia's mouth, supervising the number of chews for every bite.
Alicia took a bite of the pie; beef juice oozed from the crack in the pastry and trickled down her chin.
She didn't notice, continuing to chew. The juice flowed down the curve of her chin, about to drip onto the collar of her robe.
Liliana sighed, pulled a napkin from the table, stood on tiptoe, and using her small fingers to pinch the corner of the napkin, wiped the beef juice off Alicia's chin.
"How exactly have you survived until now?"
"I have you."
Alicia chewed the pie, speaking indistinctly, crust crumbs stuck to the corners of her mouth. Her golden-brown eyes curved into two crescents, carrying a natural smile that found absolutely nothing wrong with this.
Liliana pursed her lips, the dimple appearing for half a second before vanishing.
"After you finish eating, we're going to buy clothes. The cuffs of that robe are all frayed."
"This one is still wearable..."
"It is not.
Eat!"
After finishing their meal and leaving the pie shop, the afternoon sunlight of Diagon Alley shone down through the gaps between the two crooked rows of buildings, painting bands of golden light on the cobblestone street.
Liliana walked ahead dragging the trunk, while Alicia followed behind gnawing on the apple pudding she had packed to go.
The pudding syrup stuck to the corners of her mouth and fingers. She licked her fingers as she walked, and after licking them clean, she touched the merchandise on the roadside stalls, leaving five sticky fingerprints on a stall selling magical ink. The stall owner's face changed color visibly.
Liliana looked back, jogged back, pulled a handkerchief from her pocket, and shoved it into Alicia's hand.
"Wipe your hands."
"Oh."
The bell of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions jingled.
Liliana pushed Alicia inside. The dressing mirrors in the shop immediately started tsking and gossiping about the new customers. One mirror said, "Dear, your hair needs a brush," while another said, "That robe definitely needs replacing, the cuffs are all pilled."
"Two everyday robes, one dark blue and one burgundy. Take the waist in by two inches, let the chest out... let it out by four inches."
Liliana stood at the counter, gesturing the measurements with her fingers.
Madam Malkin poked her head out from behind the counter holding a tape measure, her gaze sweeping back and forth between Liliana and Alicia twice.
"This is...?"
"My older sister."
"...Older sister?"
"Yes.
Measure her, don't measure me."
Madam Malkin walked behind Alicia, the tape measure starting from the shoulder line.
When measuring the bust, the tape measure pulled taut, the numbers jumping to a reading that made Madam Malkin's eyebrows rise half an inch.
She looked down at Liliana's chest, then up at Alicia's chest, her lips moving, but she ultimately said nothing, noting the numbers on the order form.
Alicia stood on the fitting stand with her arms raised. Her robe was propped open by Madam Malkin's magic to inspect the wear and tear of the fabric.
The frayed edges of the cuffs, the loose threads at the collar, and the stains on the hem were all exposed to the shop's lights.
Her face turned red, her golden-brown eyes darting everywhere, deliberately avoiding Liliana's direction.
Liliana sat on the shop's waiting chair, her two short legs dangling over the edge, unable to reach the ground, her toes swinging back and forth.
She flipped through Madam Malkin's new catalog in her hands, stopped at a page showing a burgundy winter cloak, and tapped it with her finger.
"We want this one too."
"Lily! That one is very expensive..."
"Where is your salary from last month?"
"...Spent it."
"Spent it on what?"
"...Bought an out-of-print ancient battle sandbox simulation model."
Liliana snapped the catalog shut, smack.
"...I'm sorry."
"Put the cloak on my tab."
Liliana jumped down from the chair, the hem of her school robe fluttering for a beat in the draft of her landing.
She walked up to the fitting stand, looking up at Alicia standing on it. The first-year witch's head only reached the adult witch's knee height. "I'm managing your salary next month."
"But I'm the older sister..."
"You are the older sister, but you cannot be allowed to manage your own money.
Last time you spent three months' salary entirely on an autographed magical reconstruction map of the Battle of Waterloo. The time before that, you blew half a year's savings on a set of goblin-forged miniature siege engines, and the time before that..."
"Alright, alright, alright, I get it! You manage it, you manage it!"
Alicia's face went from red to deep crimson. She dropped her raised arms and covered her face.
The golden-brown eyes peeking through her fingers were wet, carrying a complex watery glint of being publicly exposed by her younger sister—a mix of shame, annoyance, and inability to refute.
Madam Malkin stood aside, the tape measure draped over her shoulder, her gaze bouncing back and forth between the sisters for several rounds, the arc of her smile growing wider and wider.
Liliana pulled a small beaded coin pouch from her pocket. The pouch was bulging, the gold Galleons inside clinking with a muffled jingle as they bumped together.
She stood on tiptoe and placed the pouch on the counter, the dimple finally appearing on her round baby face.
The curved arc of her mouth carried a pampering and helpless resignation that said, "What can I do, who told me to be the younger sister?"
"Wrap them up, Madam Malkin.
By the way, do you have any styles with an extra amount of pockets?
My sister needs a lot of pockets for snacks, otherwise she'll forget to eat."
Madam Malkin packed the three robes and one winter cloak in kraft paper into two square parcels.
The parcels were tied with Madam Malkin's signature purple satin ribbons. The bows of the ribbons had Light Hovering Charms cast on them, fluttering slightly at the top of the parcels like two purple butterflies dozing on a gift box.
Liliana dragged the trunk with one hand and carried the two parcels with the other. The stacked parcels blocked half her face, revealing only the crown of her golden-brown hair and a pair of eyes.
Alicia walked beside her, hands empty, still chewing the last bite of the apple pudding she'd packed from the pie shop, her cheeks bulging.
"Lily."
"Mmh."
"Where did you get so much money?"
Liliana's footsteps paused for a half-beat, the wheels of the trunk rumbling to a stop on the cobblestone street.
"Just that winter cloak alone costs twelve gold Galleons, plus the three robes, plus lunch just now, plus..."
Alicia counted on her fingers, getting stuck when she reached the third finger. Her golden-brown eyes stared blankly at her fingers, her lips moving silently, clearly doing one of the things she was worst at: everyday arithmetic.
"Anyway, it's a lot of money!"
"You can't even calculate the specific number, and you just say 'anyway, it's a lot of money'?"
"What I excel at is strategic-level resource allocation, not retail-level financial accounting! These are two completely different disciplines!"
Liliana switched the two parcels to the hand dragging the trunk, grabbed Alicia's cuff with her freed hand, and continued walking forward.
The cobblestone street of Diagon Alley was scorching under the afternoon sun. The awnings of the roadside stalls cast patches of shadow.
She deliberately walked in the shadows, the wheels of the trunk rumbling as they crossed the boundaries between shadow and sunlight.
"Naturally, I can't rely on your meager salary."
"What's wrong with my salary!
The compensation system for war staff officers is upper-middle tier in the entire British magical world..."
"Last month you blew three months' salary on a sandbox model.
The month before last, your Gringotts vault balance was two Sickles and seventeen Knuts.
Two Sickles, Alicia. Two Sickles can't even pay the annual fee for a Gringotts safety deposit box."
Alicia's mouth opened and closed. She swallowed the last bite of apple pudding in her cheeks, her Adam's apple rolling.
"...Then where did your money actually come from?"
"I earned it myself."
"How did you earn it?"
"Helping people do things."
"Helping what people do what things?"
"Helping people who need help do things that need to be done. You don't need to worry about it, the money is clean, the source is fine."
Liliana's tone was as flat as reading a textbook. The dimple on her round baby face did not appear.
Her golden-brown eyes stared straight ahead, the fingers grabbing Alicia's cuff tightening slightly.
Alicia looked down at the back of her younger sister's head.
Her golden-brown hair alternated between bright and dark tones in the shifting sunlight and shadow, the whorl at the crown of her head clearly visible from her angle.
The first-year witch dragged a trunk taller than herself, carried two parcels, grabbed her cuff, and walked down the cobblestone street of Diagon Alley, her steps fast and steady, like a small boat drafting deep in the water.
"...Lily."
"Mmh."
"You don't need to work so hard."
"I'm not working hard.
Walk faster, we still need to buy snacks, you definitely have nothing to eat over there."
The middle section of Diagon Alley was busier than the two ends.
In the window of a joke shop, a mechanical peacock was fanning its tail; every feather on the tail sprayed sparks of a different color. The watching young wizards crowded in front of the window, oohing and aahing.
Newly arrived textbooks were piled up in front of Flourish and Blotts. A clerk was unloading stacks of books from a cart using a Hover Charm. He lost his balance on one stack, and it crashed to the ground, scattering all over and hitting a passing wizard's foot. The wizard hopped on one foot and cursed.
Liliana pulled Alicia past the scattered pile of books, past the crowd at the entrance of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, past an old wizard squatting by the road selling "Guaranteed Pass Standard Wizarding Level" amulets, and turned into the narrow alley at the junction of the middle section of Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley.
The shops on both sides of the narrow alley were a size smaller than those on the main street, their signs a degree older. The lettering on some signs was faded, looking gray and dusty in the afternoon sunlight.
The snack shop Liliana was heading to was at the end of the narrow alley, selling various imported magical candies and baked pastries. The prices were thirty percent cheaper than Honeydukes, and the taste was only ten percent worse—a high-value treasure she had discovered.
When they reached the middle of the narrow alley, Alicia stopped.
Liliana's hand pulling her cuff was yanked back, the wheels of the trunk rumbled to a stop, and she looked back.
Alicia stood in front of a shop window. Her golden-brown eyes stared roundly at the display in the window, her head slightly tilted, her lips slightly parted, her face written with pure, unadulterated confusion.
Liliana followed her gaze.
The display window was lined with a base fabric of rose-colored velvet. Several items were placed on the fabric:
A rod-shaped object, entirely pink, with a rounded conical tip and a surface carved with runes. There was a knob at the base of the rod, and a small label next to the knob read, "7-Speed Vibration · Waterproof · Silent · 72-Hour Battery Life."
A set of equipment made of leather straps and metal buckles, the structure looking like it required an instruction manual to figure out how to wear it. A heart-shaped ruby was inlaid at the intersection of the straps.
A bottle of amber liquid, the label on the bottle reading "Elixir of Bliss · Takes Effect 30 Seconds After Application · Sensitivity Increased by 300% · Use with Caution if Pregnant."
And a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs, the chain of the handcuffs made of silver, with a small bow-shaped padlock hanging in the middle of the chain.
The shop sign read "Merlin's Secret Garden." The border of the sign was wrapped in moving vines. The vines bloomed with fist-sized roses, the petals opening and closing as they breathed, spraying faint pink mist from the flowers.
Liliana's face, starting from the base of her neck, turned red at a speed visible to the naked eye.
"Lily."
"Let's go."
"What does this shop sell?"
"Not important, let's go."
"But that pink stick says 7-speed vibration, is it for massage? The last time my shoulders were sore, I wanted to buy a massager..."
"It's not for massage! Let's go!"
Liliana's fingers gripping Alicia's cuff tightened to the point her knuckles turned white.
Her pace quickened, the wheels of the trunk spinning wildly on the cobblestones with a rumble-rumble-rumble. The two parcels swung back and forth with the swinging of her arms, the purple satin bows whipping up and down.
Alicia was dragged forward by her, her neck still twisted backward to look at that window, her golden-brown long hair whipping over her shoulder to drape down her chest, her steps stumbling as she was pulled along by Liliana's speed.
"What is that thing with the belt buckles for? It looks so complicated, is it some kind of tactical harness? The structure is a bit like a miniature version of a dragon-hide breastplate's securing straps..."
"That is not a tactical harness!"
"And that bottle of amber liquid?
Sensitivity increased by three hundred percent, is it an alchemical enhancer?
If you apply it to a wand, does it increase casting precision?"
"No! That is not for applying to a wand!"
"Then where do you apply it..."
"Stop asking!!!"
Liliana's voice shot up an octave. Her round baby face was as red as a ripe tomato; she was entirely red from the tips of her ears to the base of her neck, even the hollows of her collarbones flushed pink.
She let go of Alicia's cuff and covered her own face with both hands.
The parcels and the handle of the trunk slipped from her hands simultaneously. The parcels hit the cobblestones with a thud, and the trunk, losing its traction, fell backward and laid flat with a crash.
Two wizards passing by in the narrow alley looked back at them. The gaze of one moved from Liliana's blushing face to the sign of "Merlin's Secret Garden," the corner of his mouth twitching as he quickened his pace and walked away.
Alicia stood in place, blinking her golden-brown eyes twice.
She looked at Liliana covering her face, looked at the parcels and the fallen trunk on the ground, then looked back at the display window, the confusion on her face increasing from one layer to three layers.
"...Lily?
Why is your face so red?
Do you have heatstroke?"
"I don't have heatstroke!
Could you please not discuss the things in that kind of shop on the street!"
"What 'that kind of shop'?
What kind of shop is it exactly? If you don't tell me, how am I supposed to know I can't discuss it..."
"It's... it's a shop for adults!
A shop that sells things adults use!
You are an adult, you should know better than me!!!"
Alicia tilted her head and thought for three seconds.
The concentration of confusion in her golden-brown eyes dropped from three layers to two layers, then from two layers to one layer, and then suddenly hit zero, replaced by a bright realization, her pupils dilating a circle.
"Oh."
"You finally get it?"
"...So that pink stick wasn't for massaging shoulders?"
"Of course not!!!"
"Then where does it massage..."
"ALICIA!!!!!"
When they emerged from the snack shop, Alicia was carrying three paper bags in her arms.
The paper bags were filled with honey toffee, peppermint toads, Chocolate Frogs, pumpkin pasties, cinnamon rolls, two jars of maple peanut butter, and a large bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.
The height of the paper bags stacked against her chest perfectly blocked her line of sight; her walking relied entirely on Liliana navigating from the front, pulling her cuff.
"Turn left."
"Oh."
"Steps, lift your foot."
"Oh."
"Pillar, veer two steps to the right."
Thump.
"...I said veer to the right."
"I did veer! Veered to the left!"
"Can you not tell right from left?"
"On a tactical map I can! In actual space, sometimes I... slightly... mix them up..."
Liliana took a deep breath, let go of Alicia's cuff, turned around, stood on her tiptoes, and snatched the topmost paper bag from Alicia's arms.
Alicia's line of sight was finally cleared from behind the obstruction of the paper bags. Her golden-brown eyes blinked twice, and a red mark on the tip of her nose—left from bumping into the pillar earlier—was particularly conspicuous in the afternoon sunlight.
To get from the key-port in Diagon Alley to the Ministry of Magic employee dormitories, one had to cross half of Muggle London through underground passages.
Liliana led Alicia into the dark alley behind the Leaky Cauldron that connected to the Muggle streets. At the end of the dark alley was an old elevator. A sign reading "Out of Order" was stuck to the elevator doors; it had been put there three years ago, and no one had ever come to fix it, because this elevator wasn't meant for Muggles anyway.
Liliana tapped the third rivet next to the elevator buttons with her wand. The rivet sank half an inch, and the elevator doors opened with a ding.
The space inside the elevator was only big enough for four people. Liliana, Alicia, a trunk, three paper bags, and two clothing parcels squeezed in together.
Alicia's chest was squished out of shape by the paper bags, and the box of honey toffee inside rattled with a clack-clack sound.
The elevator descended for about thirty seconds before the doors opened. The walls of the corridor changed from brick to beige-painted drywall, and the ceiling lighting changed from candles to magical fluorescent tubes. The white light emitted by the fluorescent tubes illuminated the corridor to look like a hospital.
"Alicia."
"Mmh?"
"Your position at the Ministry of Magic officially starts next Monday, right?"
"Right, Department of Strategic Planning, third floor east wing, workstation number C-17."
"Who is your direct supervisor?"
"Uh... someone whose last name is... whose last name is... wait a minute, I wrote it down somewhere..."
Alicia freed one hand to rummage through the pockets of her robes, pulling out a crumpled ball of parchment, two Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, a broken piece of a quill, and half a cookie that had been sitting there for an unknown amount of time. She didn't find what she was looking for.
"Parkinson. Your direct supervisor's last name is Parkinson."
"How do you know?"
"I checked."
Liliana dragged the trunk down the corridor.
The white light of the fluorescent tubes shone on her round baby face. Her dimples didn't appear, and her golden-brown eyes held an experienced seriousness completely unsuited to her age.
"This person, Parkinson, comes from a pure-blood family. He has been in the Department of Strategic Planning for twelve years, neither getting promoted nor demoted, stuck in a middle-management position. This kind of person cares most about two things: first, subordinates cannot appear smarter than him. Second, the credit for the subordinates' work must bear his signature."
"But if his plan has a tactical flaw, and I don't point it out..."
"You cannot point it out in front of others."
"Why? If the plan has a flaw, in actual execution it will cause—"
"I know what it will cause. But if you point out his mistake in public, he loses face, and you lose your job..."
Alicia's footsteps slowed by half a beat. A layer of genuine confusion surfaced in her golden-brown eyes. Her lips parted, closed, and parted again.
"...That doesn't make sense."
"The workplace doesn't have 'makes sense' or 'doesn't make sense'; it only has whether you can stay or cannot stay. If you want to point out his mistake, go to his office privately, close the door, and start with, 'I have a slightly unpolished thought.' Present your revised plan as a 'minor tweak' based on his original plan, making him feel that the credit is still his."
"But that's clearly my plan..."
"It's better for your plan to be approved under his signature than for your plan to be suppressed in his drawer and never see the light of day. Do you want the plan to be executed, or do you want your name written on the plan?"
At the end of the corridor was a fire door with a bronze plaque reading "Sector B Employee Dormitory." Liliana swiped Alicia's ID badge to open the door access. The ID badge was something she had dug out from the interlining of Alicia's trunk; Alicia herself completely forgot where she had put it.
Fortunately, she had at least brought the ID badge back.
The corridor in the dormitory area was a size narrower than outside, lined on both sides with wooden doors, with bronze room numbers nailed to them.
Liliana stopped in front of door B-12, fished the key out of Alicia's pocket, and opened the door.
Although this was Alicia's first time here, this room was not a new room. Through a combination of an Extension Charm and a Portkey, her private room in the legion had been directly transferred over. It wasn't an advanced spell, but it was exceptionally useful.
The moment the door opened, a smell of old parchment, ink, dust, and expired cookies wafted out.
Liliana stood in the doorway, silent for three seconds.
The room wasn't large—a single bed, a desk, a wardrobe, one window.
Theoretically, that was it.
In reality, seven or eight unrolled campaign maps were piled on the single bed, the maps hanging from the mattress to the floor, with the corner of one extending under the bed.
Three stacks of documents and books, waist-high, were piled on the desk. The topmost book was open, its pages pressed down by a quill. The inkwell for the quill had tipped over, the ink soaking through half a page and trickling down the edge of the desk, congealing into a dried black stream on the floor.
The wardrobe door was wide open, with two robes hanging inside. Beneath the robes was a small mountain composed of a mixture of socks, underwear, and scarves. On top of the small mountain sat a half-eaten sandwich; the edges of the bread had already gone hard, and the lettuce leaves inside had turned dark brown.
"Alicia."
"...Mmh."
"How long has this sandwich been sitting here?"
"...Which sandwich?"
"The one in the wardrobe."
"There's a sandwich in the wardrobe?"
Liliana placed the paper bags and parcels she was holding on the only piece of floor near the door that wasn't occupied by maps and documents, and rolled up the sleeves of her school robe.
"You stand at the door and don't move."
For the next ten minutes, Liliana operated in the room like a miniature but highly efficient cleaning machine.
The campaign maps were rolled up one by one, tied with rubber bands, and stuffed vertically into the storage box under the bed.
The documents on the desk were divided into three stacks by date: expired ones thrown into the trash can, pending ones placed on the left side of the desk, and completed ones placed on the right.
The tipped inkwell was righted, and the ink-soaked pages were cleaned with a Scouring Charm.
The sandwich in the wardrobe was pinched by two fingers and tossed into the trash can. The socks and underwear were sorted, folded, and put into drawers. The two robes had their dust shaken off and were hung back on hangers.
Alicia stood in the doorway, clutching the paper bags in her arms, watching her younger sister bustling about tidying the room. The layer of confusion in her golden-brown eyes slowly turned into a softness tinged with guilt.
"...Lily, you don't have to—"
"How long has it been since you changed the bedsheets?"
"...Last week?"
"Which day last week?"
"...The week before last?"
Liliana yanked the bedsheets off, balled them up, and threw them into the laundry hamper behind the door. She dug a clean set of bedsheets out of the trunk, spread them on, tucked the corners under the mattress, gave the pillow two pats, and within three minutes, the entire bed went from a battlefield sandbox to a bed someone could sleep in.
She sat on the edge of the freshly made bed, her two short legs dangling, her toes still a distance from the floor, and patted the spot next to her.
"Sit."
Alicia placed the paper bags on the desk, walked over, and sat next to Liliana. The mattress sank under her weight, and Liliana's body slid two inches toward her due to the curve of the depression, her small shoulder leaning against Alicia's upper arm.
"Continue talking about the Ministry of Magic."
"I'm done talking about Parkinson. Next, let's talk about your colleagues. There are twelve people in total in the Department of Strategic Planning. Besides Parkinson, there are three others you need to pay attention to."
Liliana pulled a folded piece of parchment from the inner pocket of her school robe and unfolded it. On it was a hand-drawn character relationship chart. Circles represented people, lines represented relationships: solid lines were alliances, dashed lines were oppositions, and wavy lines were ambiguous.
"When did you draw this?"
"Last week. I started investigating the day after you received your transfer order."
"How did you know about the transfer order I received..."
Alicia looked down at the relationship chart, her golden-brown eyes switching from confusion to the mode she excelled at best: analysis.
Her finger tapped on a circle on the chart; the circle contained the name "Dolores."
"There is a dashed line between this person and Parkinson, an oppositional relationship?"
"Yes. Dolores Creevey has been in the department for eight years and has always wanted Parkinson's position. She will take the initiative to approach you because you are new, and she needs to plant her own people in Parkinson's team."
"Then I should..."
"Don't take sides. If she invites you for tea, drink it; if Parkinson calls you to a meeting, go. Offend neither side, and don't get close to either side.
You just arrived and have no foundation; taking any side is courting death."
"This is very similar to the neutral buffer zone strategy on the battlefield."
"More or less, but a buffer zone on the battlefield won't try to trip you up in the breakroom."
Liliana's finger moved to another circle on the chart, the circle containing the name "West."
"This person is the department's 'nice guy.' He offends no one, helps everyone, and appears harmless.
But he is an informant for the Minister's office. Every word you say in front of him will appear on the Minister's desk within twenty-four hours."
"How did you determine that?"
"Every Wednesday from two to two-thirty in the afternoon, he leaves his workstation, saying he's going to the restroom. But the restroom is at the end of the east wing; walking there and back takes five minutes at most, yet he disappears for half an hour every time. The Minister's office is on the third floor of the west wing; walking there from the east wing takes exactly twelve minutes."
Alicia stared at the relationship chart for ten seconds, her finger tapping twice on the circle for "West."
"You are a first-year student, how do you know the floor layout and personnel traffic patterns of the Ministry of Magic?"
"I went for a tour."
"Hogwarts students can't just casually enter the Ministry of Magic."
"Who said I entered casually? I booked a visitor pass, saying I was doing a research project on the 'operational mechanisms of the magical government,' and the people at reception even poured me a cup of tea."
The corner of Alicia's mouth twitched. The calmness of the analysis mode in her golden-brown eyes was replaced by something more complex. She looked down at her younger sister sitting beside her. The dimple on the first-year witch's round baby face was faintly visible, her short legs swinging on the edge of the bed, holding an interpersonal relationship chart more detailed than her campaign maps.
"The last one."
Liliana's finger tapped on the last circle marked in red on the chart. "Last name Grindelwald, but in the department, he uses his mother's maiden name, 'Bagshot.' This person is highly capable, but because of his surname, he has always been suppressed, and holds resentment in his heart. He won't take the initiative to harm you, but if he has the chance to step on someone else to climb up, he won't hesitate."
"So the strategy for him is?"
"Keep your distance, acknowledge his ability, and don't compete with him on the same project. If Parkinson assigns you to the same task group, you be responsible for coming up with the plan, and let him be responsible for the presentation. Once he gets the opportunity to show his face to the higher-ups, he won't see you as a threat."
Liliana folded the relationship chart, stuffed it into the breast pocket of Alicia's robe, and patted the edge of the pocket twice with her small fingers.
"Remember, fighting on the frontlines relies on military orders; surviving in the Ministry of Magic relies on human relations. You are a genius on the battlefield, but in the office, you don't even count as a novice. So for the first three months, talk less, observe more, and don't show your true abilities in any public setting."
"Why can't I show them?"
"Because if a newcomer appears too smart, everyone will think you are here to snatch their positions. You have to make them feel that you are 'okay,' 'usable,' and 'not much of a threat.' Wait until you've figured out everyone's cards before playing yours one by one. We also have cards and backing, so don't worry too much."
The daylight outside the window turned from afternoon gold to evening orange-red; the white light of the fluorescent tubes looked even colder against the orange-red daylight.
Liliana hopped down from the edge of the bed, her toes landing on the floor with a tap. She walked over to the desk and placed the snacks from the paper bags into the desk drawers one by one. The honey toffee was placed on the top layer for easy access; the Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans were placed on the bottom layer because Alicia was afraid to eat them after getting a booger-flavored one last time.
"The snacks in the drawer are enough to last you two weeks; after two weeks, I'll come back to restock. Skipping breakfast is not allowed, substituting cookies for lunch is not allowed, and dinner must not be later than nine o'clock."
"Lily..."
"Also, your campaign maps are no longer allowed to be spread out on the bed. I bought you a folding display rack; it's in the side pocket of your trunk, use that to hang them on the wall."
"...When did you stuff that in?"
"When you were eating your second pie at the pie shop, I went to the stationery store next door and bought it."
Alicia sat on the edge of the bed, her hands resting on her knees, her golden-brown long hair draped over her shoulders, watching her younger sister walk back and forth in the room, placing everything where it belonged.
The white light of the fluorescent tubes shone on the back of Liliana's head, the whorl at the crown of her golden-brown hair spiraling round and round.
"Lily."
"Mmh?"
"Next time you come, can you stay the night here? The bed is small, but if we squeeze—"
"I just changed your bedsheets. You sleep alone, don't get them dirty for me."
"...Oh."
"I'll stay in a guest room. There are visitor rooms at the end of this floor; I saw them when I came in earlier, I just need to register at the front desk tomorrow."
The corners of Alicia's mouth curved up. The layer of guilt and softness in her golden-brown eyes was covered by something warmer. She reached out her hand, resting her palm on the top of Liliana's head, and gave it a ruffle.
Liliana's hair was messed up; she swatted Alicia's hand away and smoothed her hair back into place with her fingers, the dimple on her round baby face appearing for half a second.
"Don't touch my head."
"But I'm the older sister."
"If you're the older sister, then act like a proper older sister and stop making me worry."
"Then you shouldn't worry so much either, you're only in first year..."
"How many sugar cubes does Parkinson take in his tea?"
"...I don't know."
"Two cubes. Remembered?"
"...Remembered."
At ten o'clock in the evening, the magical fluorescent tubes automatically switched to night mode, their brightness dropping to twenty percent of the daytime level. The light in the corridor dimmed to a dusky yellow, a color tone that made people sleepy.
Room B-12 was even darker, the curtains drawn tight. The only light source was the alchemical desk lamp on the desk, which Liliana had turned down to the lowest setting. The firefly essence inside the lampshade emitted a warm yellow halo the size of a pea, the illuminated area just enough to cover a spread-out piece of parchment and Liliana's two hands.
The problem was that only one of her hands was usable right now.
Alicia was hanging off her entire body.
To be precise, she was plastered onto her from behind. Her two arms passed under Liliana's armpits, crossing and clasping tightly in front of her chest, fingers locked onto her wrists in a death grip. Liliana had tried to pry them apart twice, but couldn't budge them; this woman, who couldn't even unscrew a bottle cap in daily life, possessed arm strength comparable to a troll when asleep.
Her two long legs were tangled up from Liliana's sides: her left leg pressing down on Liliana's thigh, her right knee digging into Liliana's hip bone, her ankle hooking around Liliana's calf. Sixty percent of her entire body weight was hanging off Liliana's back, and the remaining forty percent pressed onto the mattress.
And, she wasn't wearing any clothes.
Liliana could feel Alicia's chest pressed against her back. Two soft, warm, excessively large things squeezed over from the sides of her shoulder blades, rubbing against the pajama fabric on her back—swelling and shrinking with Alicia's breathing rhythm—the fabric slightly damp from body heat and sweat.
The exhaled hot air blew against the whorl of Liliana's hair, phew... phew..., even, carrying a trace of the sweet, cloying scent of residual honey toffee.
Liliana used her only movable right hand to turn a page of the parchment. Her golden-brown eyes swept over the text on the paper in the warm yellow halo of the desk lamp, her lips pursed.
"...When did this girl start sleeping naked."
Alicia mumbled indistinctly behind her back. The content of the mumble was unclear, probably sleep-talking along the lines of "...flank attack... third echelon... outflank..." After mumbling, her arms tightened another inch, and Liliana's ribs gave a creak.
Forget it.
If she couldn't pry her off, she wouldn't pry her off.
Liliana pushed the parchment toward the desk lamp. Her right hand fished a palm-sized two-way mirror from the hidden compartment of the desk beside the bed. The mirror frame was ebony, carved with a circle of dense secrecy runes. The runes flashed for a beat the moment her fingerprint touched the frame, and the mirror surface transformed from an ordinary mirror reflecting her face into a faintly glowing communication screen.
Seventeen unread messages popped up on the screen.
Liliana's thumb swiped across the mirror surface. The messages were divided into three sections by source: Store Operations, Forum Management, and Financial Reports. She started with Store Operations.
The first message was from the manager of the Diagon Alley branch: "Boss, the inventory of the 'Moonlight Whisper' series completely cleared out this afternoon, should we place an additional order? Also, a customer asked if we can customize a double-person version; she said the standard size is too small for both her and her girlfriend."
Liliana's thumb typed a line on the mirror surface: "Add thirty sets of the standard model. For the custom model, have her fill out the specification form, add a forty percent customization fee, lead time two weeks."
The second message was from the Hogsmeade branch: "The sales volume of the 'Elixir of Bliss' this month has increased by sixty percent compared to last month, mainly driven by the Standard Wizarding Level exam season; the seventh-year students are under a lot of pressure, so more people are buying. Also, someone complained that after applying the 'Eternal Kiss' lip balm they bought last time, their lips swelled up for three days and wouldn't go down, and requested a refund."
"Approve the refund, send the batch number of that lip balm to the workshop, and have them check the raw material ratio. If the concentration exceeds the standard, recall the entire batch. As for restocking... prepare 1.5 times the amount from the same period last month, focus on restocking 'Elixir of Bliss' and 'Stardust Bath Bombs'... I'll let Jerry know."
The third message was from the underground branch in Knockturn Alley. The customer base of this store was different from that of Diagon Alley, and the things they sold were more "professional": "The quality of the newly arrived batch of bondage gear forged by the workshop is good, but the price is twenty percent more expensive than the last batch.
Hannah's side says it's due to the rising cost of raw materials. Also, an old customer wants to pre-order next month's 'Forbidden Night' limited edition gift box and asked if there's a discount."
"Do not accept the price increase, I will negotiate with Hannah. The discount for old customers goes by cumulative spending amount: 5% off for over five hundred gold Galleons, 10% off for over one thousand gold Galleons, no separate negotiations."
Alicia rolled over behind her. The rolling motion yanked Liliana two inches to the left; the halo of the desk lamp shifted from the parchment to the edge of the desk. Liliana used her elbow to prop herself back into position. Alicia's arms loosened for two seconds during the roll, then locked back on, this time hugging from the front. Her face was buried in the crook of Liliana's neck, her nose rubbing against Liliana's collarbone, her exhaled hot air drilling into Liliana's collar.
"...Outflank failed... switch to frontal breakthrough..."
"Could you not use me as a defensive position when you're fighting wars in your dreams."
Liliana switched the two-way mirror to her left hand. Her right hand tried to push Alicia's head buried in the crook of her neck to the side, but it wouldn't budge. The golden-brown long hair rubbed against her neck, tickling.
She gave up, continuing to process messages with the two-way mirror held in her left hand.
Store matters processed, she switched to the Forum Management section.
The management backend of the "Forbidden Eden" unfolded on the screen of the two-way mirror. The interface featured a deep purple background with silver font. The banner at the top depicted an apple tree entangled with vines; the apples hanging on the tree blinked with light.
The number of users currently online on the forum was displayed in the top right corner: 1,347.
It was past eleven o'clock at night and there were still so many people online; Liliana's eyebrows rose slightly.
Liliana first clicked into the Administrator Notice Board; Hermione had left a message yesterday.
"Liliana, the content of several posts in the [Creative Writing] section recently has been pushing the boundaries further and further. Although the forum is positioned as a free discussion space, some content involves fanfiction creations of real people. I think we need to add a rule: The use of identifiable real people as subjects for creation is prohibited unless written authorization is obtained from the person themselves..."
Finished with work.
Only then did Liliana in the mirror notice herself. Her golden-brown hair was a complete mess from being pressed by Alicia's chin, the collar of her pajamas was pulled askew, revealing a section of her collarbone, and the dimple on her round baby face faintly appeared and disappeared in the warm yellow halo of the desk lamp.
She stuffed the two-way mirror back into the hidden compartment of the desk. The cover of the compartment closed with a click, and the secrecy runes flared for a beat then dimmed.
Alicia mumbled another line of sleep-talk behind her: "...All troops charge..."
Liliana sighed, reaching out to turn off the desk lamp. The halo of the firefly essence shrank into a pinpoint of light and went out.
The room plunged into complete darkness; only a sliver of the faint light from the corridor's fluorescent tubes seeped through the gap in the curtains, drawing a thin line of light on the ceiling.
She leaned back, the back of her head resting on Alicia's collarbone, and closed her eyes.
"I'll wake you up at seven o'clock tomorrow morning. If you dare to sleep in, I'll confiscate your sandbox models."
"...Mmh... second echelon... standby..."
"Goodnight, stupid older sister."
But right at this moment, the mirror placed in the desk lit up again.
Jerry's avatar faintly flickered into view.
"You there?"