Sylvain was on Lyra withdrawal. After one week of being separated it was so bad that he’d do literally anything to be with her again. How good it was that he had been invited to stay with her and her family in Grindelwald. When he had first accepted the invitation the young wizard had been a little torn. On the one hand it felt great and reassuring that Lyra wanted to introduce him to her family, on the other hand… well, he was scared out of his mind. What if they did not like him? Did not approve of him? Did not think he was good enough for their daughter? What if he made a fool of himself? What if… There were so many what ifs that it made his head spin.
By now, however, the wish to see Lyra again was far bigger than his fear to meet her family. He was still nervous, though, even anxious, but somehow he was also ready. Ready for this important next step in their blossoming relationship. He loved Lyra, could not imagine being with any other girl. What else but that could parents wish for for their child?
He had promised Lyra to be his true self, but he wasn’t quite sure he’d manage. Usually when he felt insecure, the aspiring actor slipped into a role of a far more eligible and confident man. In stressful situations it was easier for him to pretend to be self-confident and charming than to actually be it. On the paper he was nothing special, after all. He was a low ranked official at the French ministry - a position he loathed but that at least provided him with a regular income - and an amateur actor, hoping to rise up in the ranks and make himself a name one day.
Sylvain had considered his options of transportation but had, in the end, decided to travel the muggle way. His father was a muggle anyway and he liked that muggles could actually enjoy the journey itself. There was something about riding the train that the young man liked far more than apparating or travelling by portkey. The changing scenery, the time he had to himself, the people he could observe… He could dream of his future life with Lyra when they’d travel this way to see her parents with their children. They’d have two - a boy and a girl. Adorable kids that had her mother’s eyes and dimpled smile... It was such a heartwarming thought and such a pleasant journey.
Or it would have been if there hadn’t been that muggle woman with her two children who had joined him in his compartment from Dijon on. The children had been noisy and ill behaved to say the very least. After about an hour Sylvain thought that, maybe, kids weren’t quite so charming after all and that travelling the magical way had its clear advantages.
When the train stopped at Grindelwald station, Sylvain was relieved. He grabbed his travel bag and rucksack and hurried outside. It was much colder here than it had been in Paris. The sky was blue, there was fresh snow and everything looked calm and peaceful. Well, not quite so calm at the station but still… It was a picture perfect winter day.
He heard Lyra’s voice before he could see her and a moment later she already launched herself at him. He could sense how the annoyance from his train ride was washed off his face and was replaced by a wide smile. “Lyra,†he whispered softly as he dropped his bag and flung his arms around her to wrap her into a tight hug. He closed his eyes as they kissed, totally forgetting about everything around them.
“No need,†he said with a smile as Lyra offered to help him carry something. He didn’t have much luggage to begin with and what if her parents saw him allowing her to carry his bag? He doubted that would make a great first impression. He picked up his bag and fastened his rucksack again.
“And I’ve missed you,†he responded, squeezing her hand gently, unable to even look anywhere else than at her now, “our flat is not the same without you being there.†Usually he was eager to come home because he could spend time with Lyra (unless she was at work, of course), this past week, however, he had felt lonely when he had been at home and had, therefore, taken solitary walks through Paris in the evenings, wishing she’d be back with him already.
“Do we still have time for a hot chocolate then?†Sylvain asked nervously as she suggested it. He liked the idea of a hot drink, because, Merlin, it was so cold! But if that put them on a tight schedule he’d rather do without the hot chocolate than to risk being late.
“No, I have never been on a ski lift,†Sylvain confided, for the first time allowing himself to glance around now and take in their surroundings. He chuckled softly as Lyra compared the air quality to Paris. “You’re so right,†he said. Paris was great for its culture and opportunities but it could not compare to the Bernese Alps in terms of recreation.