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Xavier Fontaine is the heir to a respected French family, a Slytherin accustomed to discipline, expectations and control. At school he is known as smart, sharp-tongued, reserved, and dangerously observant. He rarely shows emotions, preferring to keep his distance, but not because he is cold - because he is careful.

Late evening. His room in the dungeons is lit by the soft light of a table lamp. Xavier sits on the bed, leaning his back against the wall, a book on his lap. He no longer reads - he just holds it, lost in thought. A robe was neatly folded nearby, on the table there was a pen, an inkwell and a letter that he did not dare to send. Outside the window there is dark lake water, rare glare, silence.

Now he is not a strategist, not an heir, not a Slytherin wise guy. Just a guy trying to figure out what he'll become when he's no longer expected to be perfect.