The journey wasn't particularly long, lasting less than five minutes.
After passing through the open stretch of emerald lawn beneath the azure sky, Greengrass Manor came into view.
A stately mansion seemed to shimmer into existence at the far end of the grass.
The first thing to greet them was an ornate arched gateway, a great bronze door engraved with intricate patterns... but the most striking part was the bronze elk's head set where the door handle ought to have been.
As they approached, the bronze elk on the gate suddenly spoke. "Who goes there? State your purpose."
The voice was a smooth, magnetic baritone, free of hostility and pleasant to hear.
"I am Astoria Greengrass, daughter of Diana and Andrew!" Astoria said softly. "The visitor is my friend, Jon Hart, and a Phoenix named..."
"A Phoenix named Fawkes," Jon supplied.
"Understood." The bronze elk's head lifted its massive antlers. "Welcome to Greengrass Manor, Mr. Hart, and Fawkes!"
With a creak, the arched gate swung open...
Beyond the gate, in the courtyard, a fountain sent water spraying into the sky.
The falling droplets sparkled in the sunlight, turning crystal clear before splashing onto the dense, low brambles and the tall, neatly trimmed hedges all around.
"Welcome to Greengrass Manor!" Astoria said happily, making an inviting gesture.
"I am honored, lovely lady." Jon bowed gracefully to her, then followed at her heels.
Their steps rang out with solid thuds on the hard, polished marble, as they passed the fountain and entered the corridor.
The corridor was wide, its stone floor covered with luxurious carpets... Classical oil paintings and exquisite, large reliefs lined the walls, staring at them without blinking. From time to time, the figures pointed at the two humans and the bird, whispering among themselves.
Astoria glanced at Jon with a trace of worry and reached out her hand to him.
"It's fine," Jon smiled at her, taking Astoria's hand again.
Just then, a small figure blocked their path.
It was clearly a frail and elderly house-elf; paper-thin skin hung from her bones, utterly at odds with the ornate golden coat (if it could even be called a coat) she wore.
"My youngest mistress!" The house-elf bent low, bowing respectfully to Astoria. "The most beautiful and lovable little princess of the Greengrass family..."
Jon felt Astoria's palm grow slightly warm. She shook her head shyly. "Get up, Emily."
"Emily is our house-elf. She's served the Greengrass family for sixty years, since my grandparents' time," Astoria explained to Jon. Then she turned back to the house-elf.
"Emily... this is Jon, my friend..."
"Emily is truly, truly disappointed..." The house-elf still did not look at Jon, her aged eyes fixed on Astoria with respectful yet dismayed intensity. "That the young mistress Emily respects most would introduce her to a filthy mudblood reeking of foul odors..."
"...The noble Greengrass Manor has actually been trodden on by a filthy mudblood. How many times must poor Emily scrub to wash away the lingering stench..." the house-elf went on chattering nonstop.
"Stop... please stop..." Astoria's face changed. She had never imagined that the house-elf who had always been so kind to her since childhood would say something like this. Flustered, she cried, "I order you to be quiet, Emily..."
"The young mistress orders Emily to be silent, but Emily has a duty to warn every member of the Greengrass family that staying with a mudblood is an absolutely wrong choice..." the house-elf muttered on. Suddenly, her expression twisted. She clamped one hand tightly around her own throat and rushed to a nearby pillar.
"Bad Emily... bad Emily, daring to disobey the young mistress's command... deserves punishment... deserves punishment..." she said, as she slammed her head hard against the pillar.
"But a mudblood... the young mistress absolutely cannot be with a mudblood..." As if split in two, she spoke in two different voices.
A shrill cry, like a piercing flute note, suddenly rang out from behind Jon.
Fawkes spread her wings wide and swept forward to hover in front of him—looming high, her golden eyes locked on the house-elf. Flickers of flame began to flash between her blazing feathers...
The house-elf's movements stopped dead. She almost collapsed to the floor, unable to make a sound... She didn't dare lift her head or move a muscle, her entire body trembling uncontrollably.
"Come back, Fawkes," Jon said calmly.
Fawkes shot the house-elf a disdainful glare, then flew back to Jon's side. As she returned, she gave Jon a look that clearly said, "You owe me a chicken leg for that—no, herbs..."
The house-elf, however, fled the corridor in terror, scrambling and crawling away without daring to look back...
"Jon, I'm so sorry... I'm really so sorry... I didn't know she would say something like that..." Astoria's voice trembled in the corridor. "I swear... my mother would never be like Emily..."
Astoria's face was on the verge of crumpling into tears.
"It's nothing," Jon said gently, shaking his head as he reached out to wipe her tears. "I'm not a child anymore... and I'm not about to hold a grudge against a house-elf."
"Thank you... thank you..."
Without realizing it, they had reached the end of the corridor.
In the reception room ahead, a girl slightly taller than Astoria was walking toward them.
"Astoria, did you bring your boyfriend back?" she asked casually, teacup in hand. "That Christopher Patrick?"
As Daphne Greengrass pushed open the parlor door and saw Jon's face, her expression froze.
"Ha... Hart?" Her voice trembled. "You... you're still alive..."