Lucas stepped through the fireplace, feeling a wave of vertigo from the flame travel.
He surveyed his surroundings.
They had floo-ed directly into the wand shop. There was a sign in front of him that read: Maison Bâtonnier, which translates to the House of Wands. The place was spacious and neat, giving off a high class vibe.
"It's an old wand making family shop. All of our family's wands have been custom made here," Fleur supplied.
"Welcome." A man behind the counter greeted them before his brows raised in pleasant surprise, long curly mustache twitching. "Mademeuselle Delacour. It's a pleasure."
"Monsieur Peakes. Is Senior Peakes not in?"
"He has already taught me everything so he is finally enjoying his retirement. But of course, his services are still available to VIPs like yourself."
"I need a wand for my friend here."
The man fixed his glasses, scrutinizing Lucas. "He seems… familiar. Is he perhaps…?"
Fun fact: This was Lucas's second time here, the first time being when he was 11 and had to leave empty handed since the wands didn't respond.
"Just try it again, please." Fleur interrupted, unwilling to explain.
"Very well. Ready made or custom?"
"Ready made," said Lucas. He would have preferred a custom wand but since he's going to Britain tomorrow, he might as well go with a wand.
"That's alright," said Peakes, showing no reaction, but Lucas could sense he was disappointed. And why not? Judging by this infrastructure, they must charge a fortune for custom wands.
Monsieur Peak seemed to be in his 40s and very experienced. He immediately began taking measurements of Lucas's hand and shoulder while asking various questions.
"Here, try this."
He cracked the first box. "Rowan, unicorn hair, twelve inches, yielding." The wood shone pale as fresh bread. "Protective, forgiving. Good for those who… intend well."
Lucas took it. The handle sat perfectly on his thumb pad. He swished once toward the test vase on the far table. Nothing. No warmth, no prickling rush up his arm. He tried again, a small circle. Silence.
Peakes's look towards Fleur seemed to say: 'What did you expect?'
But seeing her unmoved, he simply took the wand back, stroked it as one might a skittish animal, and set it aside.
"Some prefer a little more temperament."
He took out a second box. "Blackthorn, dragon heartstring, twelve and a quarter, solid." Dark, knotted wood, a fighter's baton. Lucas felt a pulse, meaning the wand noticed him, but when he flicked at a pile of wool tufts, his skin cooled instead of warming. The tufts didn't so much as shiver.
Peakes's brows furrowed. "That was a reaction," he said, quickly taking the wand back.
"Mm." Peakes tapped the wand's spine with a knuckle, listening. "Perhaps I was mistaken last time. You can actually have a wand."
"Try this: vine with dragon heartstring, ten and three quarters." The grain seemed to spiral; the wand leaned, eager.
Lucas took a breath, lifted, and aimed for the brass bell that hung by the rafters. He coaxed the smallest Lumos he knew, a whisper of thought rather than a word. For a heartbeat, his palm registered a tingling—then the wand went inert in his grip like wet chalk.
Peakes's eyebrow arched. "Not this one either."
After that, half an hour went by like a flash.
None of the wands available with them suited him. While it was a good thing that the wands were actually responding to him from time to time, none chose him.
Helpless, he could only let the wandmaker check for his compatibility with various materials to make a custom wand for him.
But here they found the real problem. They tried several cores in a row but none of the cores were actually suited for him. The Dragon heart string cores, which were compatible with him, required raw power to tame them, while unicorn and other cores were not compatible with him even though he had minimum magic required.
"This is our collection of unconventional cores, including Veela hair."
Then Peakes brought out a device that had several thin threads laid secured under transparent material, attached to a single wand.
"Hold the hand."
When Lucas did so, the Veela hair inside the case trembled. But along with it, another core showed reaction.
It was an unassuming black threat.
"What?! By Flamel's cauldron..." Peakes exclamation surprised both of them.
"What is it?" Fleur asked eagerly.
"Just a second. I have just the right thing!"
Without explaining, Mr. Peakes disappeared into the back of the shop, producing intermittent rustling sounds before he emerged with an old, dust covered box.
Inside lay a dark wand. Matte grain with shallow thorn-ridge indexing, the grip planed into shallow ridges where old thorns had been. A narrow band of gunmetal at the heel, the tip capped plain, severe.
Lucas gripped the wand. It settled into his palm, a touch heavier compared to other wands. The grip's texture was surprisingly comfortable despite the ridges.
A connection was immediately established and Lucas's sleeve fluttered slightly as a gust of wind was generated, the cold wood suddenly feeling hot.
"It actually succeeded!" Fleur exclaimed.
"Blackthorn," Peakes said aloud, as if to an audience that included the wand. "Twelve and a quarter. Firm, with a slight spring. And… Thestral Tail Hair core."
"Thestral hair?"
"Indeed. It only recognises those who have an intimate recognition and experience with death. It is said that the most powerful wand to ever exist also had a thestral tail hair core."
'Elder Wand…'
Lucas knew that was true. Elder wand did indeed use Thestral hair tail core.
"And Blackthorn wood wands "take to warriors", people who can survive through various hardships."
"I noticed that this wood seems to suit you the best. And the wand is firm but a slight spring, which, in combination with Blackthorn and thestral hair core grants better control, and is especially good for chantless casting."
Lucas looked at his new wand. The feeling was incomparable to the one had when wielding Gabrielle's wand.
"Lumos," he muttered, and immediately, a concentrated bright light erupted from the wand, creating a black spot in his vision.
"Awesome." Lucas was satisfied. He looked at Fleur, only to see her looking right back at him, a complicated emotion flashing in her eyes.
….
It was the next day and Lucas was preparing the food for their 2 day trip along with Miss Fontain.
Cooking has now become a sort of hobby for him. It happens when you are good at it. Keeping them company was Gabrielle, who was sitting on the counter with feet dangling, chattering away.
"There will be witches and wizards from all over the world, right? I can't wait!"
"Yes, but you are not allowed to run around. There will be at least one hundred thousand people cramped in one place and it will be quite easy to kidnap your little ass away in the chaos," said Lucas.
Gabrielle pouted. "Maman and Fleur also said the same thing."
"Well, they're right, young lady, and you better not be playful this time," said Miss Fontain.
An hour later, everyone except for Ruby and Violet stood on the lawn in a circle, holding onto a metal chain, their international portkey.
The bitchy twins are interning at the Ministry so they are already there.
Appoline checked the time in her exquisite pocket watch. "Any moment now. Gabby, make sure you're holding it tight."
"I know."
Just then, Lucas felt a tug in his stomach, indicating that the Portkey had been activated. Immediately, he was yanked off the ground, finding himself spinning.
His movement speed got faster and faster, his ears feeling a rush of pressure until the surrounding became a blur.
While holding Gabriellle's hand, Lucas paid close attention to this peculiar magic he was feeling for the first time. No one had his magical sensitivity so he might be the only one.
But before he could grasp much, he was ejected again, his spinning speed slowing down. Lucas immediately steadied himself back into an upright position and landed with the screaming Gabrielle held in a princess carry.
Fleur landed gracefully right beside him, looking at him in surprise. "Not bad for your first time," she commented.
Lucas shrugged, putting down Gabrielle, who was breathing rapidly like she was just fished out of water. "That was… amazing!" She gushed, her cheeks flushed, but she immediately covered her mouth, her stomach likely protesting.
A young man in robes quickly jogged when he saw them.
"Madame Delacour, this way. The Minister has tasked me with bringing you to the meet after showing your family to their accommodations. The meeting is already underway," he said, tipping his bowler hat.
"Lead the way. Fleur, Gabriel, keep the protective cloak on. Don't let the allure leak out."
They were currently in an open field, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, except for the people appearing with portkeys around them.
The ministry guy led them forward for around 20 meters before they crossed a sort of barrier filled with magic, a magnificent scene coming into view.
In front of them were thousands and thousands of tents of all kinds lined in neat rows upon rows. In the distance, a massive silhouette of the stadium was visible, which was going to host the finals.
They passed through the various security checks smoothly and finally entered the sea of tents.
The air was already shaking with drums and vuvuzela-like horns. To their left was a river of bleu-blanc-rouge—tricolour ribbons, along with names of various players of the French team; to their right were red-green-white banners with roaring KRUM charms stitched down the hems.
But along that name, there was another familiar name: LESTRANGE. Though the banners of this name all held rather negative slogans.
Yep, Malachor Lestrange, Bellatrix's son, managed to worm his way into the national team, as a Beater. As they passed by the name, Fleur's brows wrinkled, muttering something like "Nepotic Bastard."
They threaded through canvas streets where Vendors weaved through the crush, hawking Omninoculars, face-paint that could animate into tiny roosters or rampant lions, and scarves that flipped allegiance every cheer, and much more.
Food smoke stacked in layers, ranging from butterbeer, roasted chestnuts, bouillabaisse steam from a blue-striped cart, hot banitsa and charred peppers from a red one, and much more, which caused Gabrielle to tug at his sleeves while drooling.
They finally reached the tent marked with 'Delacour' and the ministry guy stopped.
Inside was as he had expected, very spacious due to the space extension charm.
"Let's go around now!"
So, Lucas, Gabrielle, Fleur, and Miss Fontain went on a walk around the area. Along the way, they saw wizarding folks from various countries.
While walking, Lucas was constantly looking around, but as expected, he didn't find the familiar faces he was looking for.
But then again, in such a large place, coincidentally running into any canon characters is highly unlikely. And their faces should also be different from movies.
Since the three women in their group had rather beautiful faces, even with the hood of their cloaks drawn, they had attracted several eyes and several young men had even tried chatting them up.
Even then, due to the relatively tight security, and Auror patrol, they hadn't faced any danger yet.
But then, they encountered a particularly persistent drunk group of men in the Bulgarian area who were trying to flirt in their gibberish language.
Fleur started to draw her wand but Lucas stopped her.
Instead, he took out a bottle of alcohol from his space extension and tossed it to them. "Krum!" He raised his fist.
""KRUM!"" The men echoed and laughed, instantly becoming friendly and patting him on his shoulder, after which, they let them pass without a problem.
As they left, Fleur gave Lucas a meaningful look that held a certain degree of disdain. "That was very brave," she drawled.
Lucas rolled his eyes. "So, you were going to fight them on their own turf? When they hadn't even committed any offense yet?"
"Lucas handled it very well, Fleur. This is not France. And don't forget, we also have Gabriel with us," said Miss Fontain.
Fleur shrugged. "I didn't say he was wrong. I just didn't like it."
"I think it was very interesting!" Said Gabrielle. "One minute, they were all scary and then they turned into puppies! How did you do it?"
Lucas shrugged. "Even bad people have good sides. You just have to bring them out."
"That's very deep, Luci," Miss Fontain patted his back.
After this incident, Miss Fontain decided it was not safe to wander around so they headed back.
On their way back from a different route, they went through an area of French delegation that was off limits for normal people.
Inside, Lucas could feel allure flowing out in multiple layers. Yes, it was the area of veela accommodations.
Veelas moved between pale-silk tents in offstage clothes—linen wraps, loose chemises, hair braided low instead of fanned like flame.
Their voices were low and bell-pure even in ordinary talk, a lilting French that might make ordinary men pitch tents just by hearing them.
One sat on a step lacing sandals; another dabbed silver powder from a tin onto her wrists; two more laughed over tea, the sound like small bells, cutting clean through the stadium's distant roar.
When they passed by a few open tents which had veelas in their underwear, Fleur had to elbow Lucas hard.
They reached an area where several veela were gathered in a group, apparently in a heated discussion.
"Sabine! IIona!"
Fleur took off her hook and called out. In response, two of the Veelas who were sitting in a group stood up. One had sharp cheek bones and was very tall, ever slightly taller than Fleur, her long legs on full display and the other one had softer features and a very voluptuous figure.
"Fleur!"
"You made it!"
The two veela ran over and hugged Fleur.
The other Veelas also stopped their discussion and started gathering around. Obviously, everyone knew Fleur.
Fleur turned to Lucas. "You guys go ahead. I'll be back soon,"
"And who is this handsome?" Asked the chubby one, IIona, her green eyes scanning Lucas with curiosity.
"That's Lucas. He's also like Ruby and Violet."
IIona winked at him. "Nice to meet you, little one."
"Knock it off!" Fleur glared at her.
"Oh, she is angry."
"Fleur, do you like him?"
Amidst the teasing of Veelas teasing and a generous blast of different allures, Lucas left the area, his gait slightly awkward.
….
At noon, it was finally time for the finals.
Lucas sat in the VIP box with the Delacours, overlooking the stadium.
He had Miss Fontain sit beside him, in order to give all the information about the people here.
And his major objective for coming here was getting to see more canon characters and get more information on the current Britain.
In this large air-conditioned VIP box, he could see many familiar names. Beside him, Miss Fontain was feeding him all the information on the French and British higher ups.
And right now, the Boy-who-lived was sitting right behind him. He was perhaps the only character who looked exactly like the book's illustrations.
Sitting with him was a beautiful red haired woman with vivid green eyes, and an elderly couple who must be his Grandparents. Lucas didn't see his father James Potter with them, though.
It seems that Harry Potter's life has changed completely, no longer having to grow up as a complete orphan.
Harry suddenly stood up when he saw a group of redheads making their way in.
"I'm going to sit with the Weasleys and Hermione," he said as he left his mother and grandparents.
Oh well, at least the golden trio is still there.
"You better behave yourself then," Lily Potter warned as he left. "No pranks!"
"I know."
"The red haired woman behind us, Lily Potter, is somewhat special," Miss Fontain whispered.
"The boy's mother?"
"Yes. She works directly under Aurora Dumbledore."
Lucas of course knew who that was.
Aberforth Dumbledore did not only have a son. He also had a daughter.
And she's important because much of the magical technology changes in the wizarding world were brought by her.
But she has always been elusive and unmarried so there's not much to be known about her.
The fact that such a person took in Lily Potter just goes to show that she must be really talented.
"Hey Fleur. Fancy seeing you here. I missed not seeing you at school..."
Fleur, who was sitting on the other side of Miss Fontain, also listening in to the conversation, seemed annoyed to be interrupted.
"Rosier," Fleur uttered, her voice cold and distant.
This "Rosier", who intruded upon them was a handsome guy who was dressed like old money.
"You seem to be enjoying yourself here. You must be confident in your selection as a Champion," he spoke in French.
"If the selection is fair, I don't have competition," Fleur replied curtly, as if stating a fact.
Rosier laughed. "I will not disagree with that. But... you might not be the only one selected."
Fleur frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Oops, forget I said anything. I look forward to our cooperation," with that, the guy left.
"Who was that?" Asked Lucas.
"Just an annoying bug," said Fleur, her brows still furrowed, most likely pondering Rosier's last words.
"He is Alec Rosier, also in Beauxbatons seventh year," said Miss Fontain. The Rosier Family is the leader of the pro-pureblood faction.
"Oh, but isn't there a Rosier Family in Britain?"
"Yes, there is. But that is actually a branch. Rosier's family originated from France."
Lucas understood. Evan Rosier from Britain was a known death eater in the Harry Potter series. And there was a Rosier witch from France in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them. So, the existence of Alec is not surprising.
Also, Rosier is actually a French word which means "rose tree" or "rose bush" so there's that.
While they were talking, the sound of camera shutters reached their ears and the noisy room started to calm down.
Lucas vaguely heard whispers like 'the Ministers are here'.
And indeed, a very tall man in vibrant robes stepped in, followed by two other men who seemed to hold similar authority.
These were, of course, the ministers of Britain, France, and Bulgaria.
Following them was another group of people. It was the Dumbledore family.
Lucas could immediately tell that the tall young man with auburn hair in the front was Aiden Dumbledore, who was walking with two women who should be his mother and younger sister.
He had the similar looks and confidence as the young Dumbledore of Fantastic Beasts movies.
The younger sister waved in Harry's direction and immediately went over.
Aiden's eyes scanned the room, before briefly pausing on Fleur as he nodded.
But as the family of three parted, Lucas finally got a good look at the woman behind and his eyes shook.
The huge shock was not at all related to whether she was beautiful or not. After all, Lucas lives with Veelas and he did not react this way even when seeing them.
It was because, except for her auburn hair, the woman looked exactly someone he was very familiar with: His mother, who had sacrificed everything to treat his illness in his precious life.
"W-Who is that?" He asked Miss Fontain, a noticeable tremor in his voice.
But her identity became clear when Lily Potter happily waved her hand.
"Aurora! Here!"
It was Aurora Dumbledore, the woman behind many of the modern inventions today.
…..
A.N.:
I will make a character info chapter in the auxiliary section in case you forget. Don't worry about the new characters. I will slowly introduce them into the plotline.
Here is the Dumbledore family tree:
Ariana Dumbledore, Albus Dumbledore, Abberforth Dumbledore.
Abberforth -> Aberanth [The current Minister] and Aurora [The woman who looks exactly like Lucas's mother]
Aberanth -> Aiden [Fleur's rival], and, Aiden's sister [Not yet introduced, friends with Golden Trio]