EmmaLee was relaxed back in one of the observation chairs outside of Cygnus tent with her face turned up to the sky and her eyes closed against the "winter" sun. It had been one of the singular best summers of her life.

She had been able to connect with so many of the friends she had made before camp and she had even made quite a few new ones inside of her tent and out. She had even been able to properly connect with people from Hogwarts and hang out with them. It was funny how it just seemed overall easier to make friends at camp than at school, even friends from her school.

EmmaLee kept telling herself before camp every year that she would try to do less each time, but each time so far, the Hogwarts' summer camp seemed to be getting better, the events more exciting and engaging and she always signed up for so many things. She ended up participating in almost every event this wintery camp had offered this summer: sledding with Aurelie (and Stephen), Battle of the Seasons with Aurelie, Sara, and Stephen, the Scavenger Hunt (with Stephen), watching the Quidditch matches with Yasha and Kaya, and the Mistletoe Spin (with Stephen), where it was brought to light that she and Stephen really were more than friends, despite her belief that he didn't return her feelings.

EmmaLee blushed at the thought of that night and covered her face in excess embarrassment. She really, REALLY had to learn to just talk to Stephen when they had a conflict or something odd happened between them instead of making the situation, well, frankly, all about her, getting weird, and pulling away. She was still embarrassed by her behavior about the whole thing. The few conflicts they'd had were always because she had a habit of overthinking and leaping to conclusions that, in hind-sight, really didn't make any sense given who they both were.

Why was she so quick to think that the slightest little conflict would take her good friends away from her? She used to do the same thing with Alura, Grace, and Kiernan before they knew her tells, starting with her blabbermouth going silent. Alura used to tease her that if her mouth was ever fully closed, something must be wrong. EmmaLee gave a pouty smirk and a scoff at the thought before sitting up, putting her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands with a content smile. It would be nice to get home and see them again, considering that she had spent the first part of the summer visiting her mother's family in France, which had also gone well.

It was nice to just relax for a moment considering that she ended up in another busy summer. Not that she minded. She loved the excitement that all of the various camp activities brought and she had even ended up watching more of the sports this year. Even, well, the travesty of the Ilvermorny Quidditch game had been exciting, if not, irritating and scary to see how brutal Durmstrang was on the Quidditch field as well as off of it.

This morning she had woken up later than she usually would allow herself. She had packed everything up the night before, after Aurelie's spectacular duel, and, therefore, had all day today to relax and say goodbye to her international friends before heading with her parents to New York. It seemed a little odd to her that the planners would put a sports event on the day everyone was supposed to be leaving, but everything about the planning of this camp had been a little odd and, funny enough, all the better for it. Everyone had been completely thrown off by the Winter in Summer theme, but they had planned the best activities to go along with it, and, as far as EmmaLee was concerned, that made up for having to owl her mother for different clothes. Also, it had been a nice break from the intense heat of summer. The stadium had stayed cool enough to feel wintery, but not so cold as to be completely frigid. It was a wonderful balance that only magic could provide.

EmmaLee looked up as her thoughts were interrupted by the flutter of wings and she saw her mother's barn owl, Avion, fly gracefully over the tents towards her. He landed daintily on the handle of her chair and poked her cheek carefully with the letter in his beak. EmmaLee frowned at the letter. Something she thought was a quirk of her mother's, but she had found out was a LeDames trait, was the colored envelopes they all sent their letters in. Her aunt, Mylene, sent her letters in an envelope covered with every color of the rainbow, EmmaLee had received a letter from her grandmother about a month ago in a rich plum color, and her mother's letters usually came in a deep, rose-red envelope.

This envelope, which, considering Avion's delivery of it, could only come from her mother or her stepfather, was a deep, foreboding black color with a grey area on the front for the sender and recipient addresses. Her name and her mother's name were clearly visible in black against the grey in her mother's elegant, swoopy handwriting.

EmmaLee took the letter from Avion, petted his soft feathers a couple of times, and watched for a moment as he lifted off and made his way back across the sea of tents, up, up, up, and out of the quidditch stadium. EmmaLee stared at the sky where he had disappeared for a moment before turning back and staring at the letter. Why would her mother send a black letter? EmmaLee thumbed her and her mother's names on the envelope thoughtfully before she flipped it over again and daintily opened the letter.

In French:

My Star,

I struggle to find the words for what I am about to tell you and it breaks my heart to have to give you this news at all, but especially in a letter. In truth, I have put this letter off far longer than I should have because there is simply no easy way to say them.

While Kiernan was rock climbing with his father on Friday morning, he fell. It isn't very clear why or how he fell, but his father was unable to grab his wand in time to stop or slow his fall. Your friend died on impact.

We will be ready to pick you up the moment they allow students to exit the stadium so that we can quickly meet up with the Kennedys, the Stewarts, and the Johnsons at the Kennedy estate.

I am so sorry, My Star. I'll see you soon.
Your mother.

"No." EmmaLee gasped, reading the letter again. "No, no, no. I.... no." She put her hand to her mouth in shock as she read the letter over and over and over again, willing the words to change. She must be reading them wrong, misunderstanding what her mother meant by "died on impact". Kiernan and his father went climbing every single summer and while they moved past using harnesses when he was ten, they had never gotten injured before. They climbed the same mountains on the same route every single summer. Kiernan knew those climbs like his own hands and feet. How could he have fallen? How could he be gone? How could his father have been too slow to save him? It didn't make any sense. That's what magic was for. Why couldn't they save him? It couldn't be true.

EmmaLee stared at the letter for what felt like hours before she realized that her face was soaked with tears. Why was she crying if it wasn't true? It couldn't be true. She would go home and find out that they were confused. That he was injured, but fine. Maman had to be mistaken.

How could this happen after her perfect summer?

Abruptly, EmmaLee stood and wiped her face with the end of her yellow sundress. She had changed into it before packing her last things in anticipation of meeting the bright London sunshine again outside of the quidditch stadium and heading home. She threw the letter into her chair, suddenly furious at the little piece of paper, and took off across the grass, running away from yet another letter whose contents were too painful to bear.

EmmaLee ran across the pitch and all the way up to the very top of the stadium until she hit a back wall and had nowhere else to run, fresh tears running rivers down her face. She put her back to the wall and finally collapsed, sliding down the wall and curling into a little ball, burrowing her wet face in her hands and her skirt and finally finding a real voice for her grief, sobbing into her hands and knees. Her pale shoulders shook as she sobbed and tried to wash away the reality that she was going to a home where one of her best friends was no longer going to be there.

Her mother wouldn't lie to her, and Kiernan's parents were not the kind of people who would tell others of their child's death without being absolutely certain. They were practical and straightforward and had reputations to keep and they would have moved literal mountains to save their son if they could have. Which meant they couldn't. Which meant he was really gone.

@AngelFyre McCubbin