HP : King In The Wizarding World

The morning after the forging of his wand, Louis returned to Nicolas Flamel's atelier, the memory of the previous day still vivid in his mind. The long hours of intense magical focus, the strain of the test, the raw connection he felt with the wand—it had left a deep impression on him. He now held in his hand something more than a tool. It was an extension of himself.

Nicolas was waiting for him, seated beside a book-laden table with tea already steeping.

"So," Flamel began with a smile, "how does it feel to carry a piece of your soul in wood and feather?"

Louis chuckled softly. "Strangely natural. Like it always belonged there."

Flamel nodded thoughtfully. "Wands are strange things. They amplify, direct, and sometimes resist us. The connection you formed yesterday—it will grow, but also evolve. You'll find that your magic may behave differently now."

They spent the morning experimenting. Louis cast spells he had mastered long ago, observing how the wand changed the feel of his magic—more precise, more responsive, almost instinctual. But also, as Flamel had warned, more volatile when his emotions weren't properly in check.

They also discussed how wand-based magic felt different compared to the raw, wandless spells Louis had grown accustomed to. The wand didn't just channel his power; it refined it, made it sharper, more delicate. Nicolas offered guidance but gave Louis space to explore. He trusted the young mage's intuition.

After a final cup of tea, Louis bid farewell and returned home.

His parents greeted him eagerly, curious to see the result of his efforts. In the grand salon, Louis drew the wand from its velvet case. The ivory-like sheen gleamed in the sunlight, and the deep, dark streaks shimmered with magic.

"C'est magnifique," his mother whispered, her hand over her heart.

His father stepped closer, examining it with the eye of someone who had seen countless artifacts but never one like this. "It feels... alive."

Louis gave a small smile. "It is."

He demonstrated a few simple spells, and his parents watched in awe as the magic moved with grace and power, as though the air itself obeyed him.

Months passed.

Louis and Fleur had remained as close as ever. Their mental link allowed them to share thoughts and experiences instantly, but they still eagerly awaited each school break to see each other in person. Their bond had only deepened, filled with shared ideas, emotions, and secrets.

Now, nearing the end of summer, Louis made his way to the Delacour estate. He and Fleur had planned to spend the last few days of vacation together before he left for Hogwarts.

Fleur was already waiting for him in the orchard, the afternoon light turning her hair golden. When she saw him, she smiled and ran to meet him.

"Louis!" she beamed. "Let me see it!"

Louis drew the wand with a modest flourish. 

Fleur took it gently in her hands, turning it over. "It's beautiful. And powerful. I can feel it."

They spent the afternoon playing and walking the grounds. Despite their frequent conversations through the link, nothing compared to time spent face to face. They teased, competed with spells, and laughed until the sun began to dip below the horizon.

As evening fell and the garden lights began to glow, they sat under the same birch tree where they'd shared countless memories.

The wind was light, and the moment was still, but Louis felt a heaviness forming.

Fleur turned to him. "You're quiet."

Louis hesitated. Then, "You know this is the last time we see each other before I leave for England."

She nodded. "I know."

There was a long pause. Then she said, voice small, "I want to ask you something. It's a bit selfish."

Louis looked at her. "Ask anything."

She glanced at her hands, then back at him. "Promise me you won't be with anyone else. While we're apart."

He blinked. "You mean... romantically?"

She nodded. "Yes. I know we're not a couple or anything, but... I don't want things to change between us. I want what we have to stay. Just until we see each other again."

Louis felt a strange flutter in his chest. It wasn't the request itself, but what it revealed. Her affection, her fear, her hope.

He thought of who he had been in his past life, the complexity of love and duty. But with Fleur, everything had always been simple, real. Her presence had anchored him in this new world.

He took a breath. "Alright," he said softly. "I promise."

Fleur looked relieved, but a hint of blush rose on her cheeks. "Thank you."

They stood, and she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him in a soft embrace. The scent of flowers clung to her, the warmth of summer still on her skin.

And then, just as she was pulling away, she leaned in and kissed his cheek.

"Bonne chance, Louis," she whispered.

He stood there for a moment, watching her walk away toward the house, her silhouette fading in the amber dusk.

Louis touched the spot where her lips had brushed his skin. A soft warmth lingered. He didn't quite know what lay ahead at Hogwarts, but he knew this farewell would stay with him.