"Stay still," Nathalie ordered, frowning as the house elf scuffled around the fidgety five year old, tugging at the clothes and making sure they were smooth and fit. Adrien for his part bit his lip in silent protest, anxiously waiting for the little elf to get done. He was filled with nervous and excited energy, eager to spend it.

This was going to be his first official social gathering, he was to look his best, behave at his best, and ready to present the Agreste family as well as his father and grandfather. Which would be easier to do if he wasn't so fidgety and twitchy. It didn't help that he could pick up Nathalie's nervousness, and it added to his own. He needed to run, to scramble; do something with this nervous energy filling him.

Nathalie wasn't allowing it though. Not till he was presentable.

Which was taking a while since he couldn't keep still.

Adrien bit his lip, narrowing his eyes as he tried to keep still. They were almost done. They had to be…

"Are we feeling magical today?" Nathalie asked, drawing Adrien's attention to her.

Blinking, he said, "No."

"Are we sure?"

"Yes."

Nathalie narrowed her eyes at him.

Adrien peered back, trying to keep his arms up while they grew tired.

It had been discovered a few days ago that Adrien had magic spikes. Now, magic spikes weren't uncommon for magical children. It was actually quite normal and healthy. It showed that the children had magical talent, and strong potential to be good at it.

What was uncommon was for the spikes to happen at Adrien's age.

On record, the earliest spike happened at seven.

Nathalie suspected it was the Veela blood that sparked the early spike.

It was unfortunate it was their natural fire abilities that rose up. Adrien had scared a poor house elf when the fireplace suddenly erupted near it from him getting excited.

Nathalie was concerned that there would be a spark at the Bourgoeis gala.

She could only pray that there won't, that Adrien wouldn't get so excited or emotional that flames would flare somewhere near him.

She persisted, trying to secure one last effort to make sure he'll control himself. "Remember not to get emotional. Be in control."

"Contwol," he echoed.

"Done," the house elf declared, happily drawing away from the half Veela.

Adrien dropped his arms with a happy sigh.

Before Nathalie could provide further instruction, Adrien hopped away, racing out of the room and down the hall. "Adrien!" Nathalie called after him, huffing as she scrambled.

The house elf sighed, highly suspecting that he would have to refix the young master's clothes once more.

Adrien sped as he neared the stairwell, with great leap, he caught the lip of the fourth step and hung from it. Before he could try and dive for the next step, and parkour his way up to the top, Natalie came up behind him, scolding, "Adrien!"

He turned to her, wide eyed.

"Your suit!" she scolds, waving to him, "You're wrinkling it!"

"Oh," was all Adrien could offer, dropping down and tugging at his suit to straighten it, then flashed her an expectant smile.

Nathalie sighed, running a hand over her face and sliding her glasses up. Staring down at him, she said, "We don't feel..."

"Magical!" Adrien eagerly proclaimed.

We're not going to have any..."

"Fire!"

"And we're going to be well..."

"Behived!"

"It's behaved, Adrien."

The eager blond just nodded. "Dat what I said!"

Nathalie sighed, staring down at the beaming boy. She looked up when she heard poised steps, seeing Gabriel Agreste dressed and ready. She gave a stiff bow. "Sir…"

"Nathalie," he returned, turning to peer down at his son, seeing Adrien smile up at him, nervously excited. He nodded to the half human. "You look presentable."

Adrien's eyes grew huge, his whole body wiggling in excitement.

Nathalie grimaced. "Sir, I, I'm not sure-"

"It'll be fine," Gabriel cuts in. "Besides, Père has been quite pressuring at meeting the boy, having society see him. It's time."

That just made Nathalie all the more nervous.

Balzac Agreste was going to be there. One of the stiffest wizards in all of Paris, the strictest traditionalist Nathalie had the displeasure of meeting.

Nathalie was scared to think what could happen if Balzac Agreste ever discovered his half Veela grandchild.

"Are we ready then?" Gabriel asked.

"Yes!" Adrien shouted, racing off, giddy to go.

"As ready as we'll be," Nathalie shakily said.

Gabriel nodded, pleased.

To the Bourgoeis manor then.

Adrien was so excited to go, new place, new people. He couldn't imagine why Nathalie dreaded him coming here.

And then he got the idea why when he arrived.

It was boring.

There were so many grown ups, all posh and stiff. Arrogance, pettiness, and selfishness rolled off of them in waves. It was enough to bring a bad taste in Adrien's mouth and a slight headache to being around them.

And the "kids" Nathalie reassured were going to be here, they weren't any better.

They too came with a haughty air.

And most didn't seem to care to meet him, too caught up in their own world to turn to a small child wandering around.

Jalil Kubdel certainly didn't care.

The older boy practically shoved Adrien aside as he rushed after his father, desperation coming off of him. His father didn't pay him much mind, more focused on the small, pink haired girl in his arms. A girl who was terribly bored and tired and wanted to be elsewhere. Something Adrien could relate too.

Adrien stared after them with pursed lips, trying not to feel too agitated.

The whole carriage ride here, Nathalie kept stressing the importance of control. It'd be bad if he got too excited, if there was a spark here at the party.

Had to maintain control.

It was the Agreste way.

It's what mattered.

Be controlled and poised.

This party was his test.

He knew this when Père walked by him.

He had to be good.

But with how bored and uncomfortable he was here, Adrien found that was going to be hard. He was itching for some sort of activity. Something to do and humor himself with. It was quite a bummer since he was so excited for this too.

But what?

With a pout on his lips, he walked about, trying to find something to amuse himself with till his Père was ready to depart.

Too caught up in his own world, he didn't see the blonde girl till it was too late. He walked straight into her back and sent her straight into the dirt below.

Adrien gasped in fright, feeling the anger and agitation rolling off the girl. "I'm so sorry!" he cried, rushing to her side to help her up.

"You better be!" the girl snapped, letting him help her up. She stared down at her dress, her annoyance and sorrow spiking, making Adrien wince. "This was my new dwess!"

Adrien shrunk with a wince. "M-maybe Pèwe could design you a n-new one?" That's what his father did after all, he was a famous robe designer in the wizarding world. He did some of the finest fashions and was well sought for. Surely he could make her a new dress.

She rounded on him, mouth open to growl.

Adrien braced for the anger coming off of her, only to give a start what that fire sizzled out suddenly, leaving surprise in it's wake.

Adrien looked up to her, blinking at her awed expression. "Wh-who awe you?" she asked, wide eyed.

"Adwien Agweste," he answered cautious, unsure how to feel about the wonder coming off of her.

She gave as tart, blinking at him. "Agweste?" she repeated.

He gave a shy nod.

"Long face Gabwiel Agweste is yourw Papa?"

"Ye-yes."

She gaped at him, then with a wild wave of her arms, proclaimed, "You'we too pwetty to be his kid!"

Adrien blinked, then offered her a small smile. "Thank you?"

She offered her hand to him, smiling charmingly. "Chloe Bouwgeois," she introduced.

"Hello," he greeted, taking her hand and giving it a shake.

Latching onto his hand, she dragged him along, declaring, "You'we going to play with me the rest of this pawty."

"Ok," he agreed. It was better than wandering around aimlessly. Maybe she would have something fun in mind.

Across the way, Gabriel watched his son get dragged off by the young Bourgeois, considering the match with a bored hum.

Bourgeois would provide wealth. They could be real clever when they wanted to be... but also vain and stupid. Something that seems more and more common with each child the Bourgeois family bare. Even now, he could hear Andre Bourgeois laughing loudly over the crowd, nearly spilling his wine on himself as he chortled himself silly.

Gabriel sighed, feeling tired at the thought of tying to the Bourgeois family.

He won't shove the possibility of them away, but if he's going to make use of the Veela blood, he's going to look for appealing traits, and consider each family carefully.

"That is your heir?"

Gabriel gave a start, looking over to see his father here, his cold grey eyes staring after Adrien, judging and squinting.

"Hello to you too, father," Gabriel greeted curtly, "yes, that is my heir. His name's Adrien. Would you like to meet him?"

"He looks nothing like you," Balzac Agreste accused.

"He takes after his mother more than me."

Old Balzac gave an unimpressed hum.

"Would you like to meet him?" Gabriel asked.

Balzac grunted, and turned away without answering.

Gabriel took that as a no.

His father didn't want to meet his grandson.

Yet.

It'll be soon.

And Gabriel wasn't looking forward to that.

"Papa!"

He blinked, looking down and watching the yong Bourgeois dragged Adrien over, the half Veela nearly stumbling a few times as he struggled to keep up with the blonde. When she stopped before him, he gave a slight, humored bow to the minister's daughter. "Miss Bourgeois."

She squints up at him, then turned to eyeball Adrien. Turning back to Gabriel, she declared, "I'm going to be youw futuwe daughta-in-law."

Adrien blinked at her.

Gabriel sighed tiredly.