Nothing is mine.

The first chapter of the last part. Just a small town girl...

The Journey

Soft clouds drifted across the kitchen's enchanted ceiling, sailing through spring skies and floating over Fleur's head toward the window and the bright daffodils swaying in the morning breeze beyond the faint shimmer of the warded glass panes.

'Do you want more banana, baby bird?' Fleur asked.

'Maman, I'm not a baby anymore.' Katie scowled over her tower of crêpes, crystals of sugar clinging to the tip of her nose; the purple ribbon swaying at the end of the slim silver braid hanging from her temple strayed near the pot of honey, but her daughter snatched it back and tucked it behind her ear. 'I'm ten. This year I'm going to Beauxbatons.'

'You will always be my baby bird,' Fleur murmured. 'Is that a yes, Katie?' She waved the knife in the air. 'Before I put this in the sink...'

'Non.' Katie ladled huge spoonfuls of honey over her stack of crêpes and beamed as golden liquid flooded across her plate. 'I'm fine, maman.'

'All your teeth are going to fall out.'

'They're meant to be falling out, they're wobbly—' a small pout crept onto Katie's face '—and you ate the other half of the jar this morning, maman.'

Fleur laughed. 'I will have to buy more next time I go to the shops in Carcassonne. We are nearly out already.'

Katie beamed, rolling her crêpes up with the tips of her fingers. 'Can I go water my tree?'

'When you are finished.' Fleur waved a hand at her breakfast. 'And remember you have to tidy your room today; the last time I went in, I found poor Henri buried under a huge pile of your dirty dresses.'

Her daughter groaned, stuffing an entire crêpe into her mouth and mumbling through it.

'Swallow before you talk, little chick.'

Katie gulped it down and licked honey off her lips. 'I'll do it later.'

'I will come and check.' Fleur fixed her with a long look. 'And if I find all those dirty dresses hidden behind the door in the bathroom again…'

Her daughter flushed pink and crammed the last crêpe into her mouth.

'You know you could have cut it up.'

Katie shook her head, chewing away.

'You are so stubborn, mon petit chou.' A fond little smile crept onto Fleur's lips. 'As bad as your maman, non?'

'Not that bad,' her daughter chirped; she bounced from her chair and skipped toward the hall, her pine-green dress flaring about her legs with each step.

'Non…' Fleur crooked her finger. 'Wash the honey off your face first, baby bird; you are so sticky I can feel it just from looking at you.'

Katie rolled her eyes and trudged back in to stick her hands in the sink, smearing the honey off with wet fingers. 'Happy?'

'Do not forget to dry.' Fleur passed her the small towel. 'Be careful near the river; it is still early spring and it will be very cold if you fall in again.'

'Mamaaaaan,' her daughter whined, swiping her hands through the towel. 'I fell in once. Years ago.'

'Not that long ago, little chick. And you were very upset at how wet and cold you were after not listening to your maman about the grass being slippery.' Fleur reached out and straightened the little purple bow tied to the end of Katie's slim braid. 'There, all ready to go. You look very cute, little chick. All that time getting your braid just right was worth it, non?'

Katie beamed, wobbling her loose molar with the tip of her tongue. 'I'll be back soon, maman. Will you teach me some magic today? After I've tidied, I mean.'

Fleur sighed. 'Not today, little chick. I need to think about how I'm going to teach you everything and what to start with first; I can't just teach you things.'

Her daughter's smile disappeared. 'Beauxbatons will teach me all that stuff. You can just show me the fun stuff first, maman.'

Fleur stacked Katie's plate in the sink. 'Katrina…'

Katie glowered at her feet, her bright green eyes darkening. 'I want to know how to make pretty things like you, maman! And go to school and make loads of friends and have fun and break all your records!'

'I know you do, baby bird,' Fleur murmured. 'But I want you to be happy and safe.'

Her daughter stomped off through the hall.

It is not going to be how you hope it will be, little chick. Fleur sighed as the door slammed. Je suis désolée. You will understand when you are older.

She drifted down the hall, breathing in the sweet gentle fragrance of cherry blossom from the intertwined branches of the bannister and those sprouting from the wooden beams of the walls and ceiling, but unease coiled in the pit of her stomach, a taut, trembling fist of dread clenched tight in her gut.

Mon amour, our baby bird is not very good at listening to things she does not want to hear. Fleur disapparated, stepping out beneath the shimmering panes of her glasshouse.

'You would tell me that she was just like me,' she murmured. 'And tease me if I tried to disagree.'

The delicate crimson roses surrounded her in a silent ring of terracotta pots, their glossy dark leaves and smooth, thornless stems still and serene.

'And you would be completely right, of course,' Fleur whispered, touching her thumb to the little red rose trapped in amber hanging from her left ear. 'I never listened to you if you said something I didn't want to hear. I just hurt you until you were so desperate you did whatever I wanted.'

Quel monstre tu as épousé, mon cœur. How did you ever love such a cruel creature so much?

She picked the small silver watering can up and drew her wand, filling it with a low murmur. 'But I will look after our little chick.'

The little stream of water spattered down around the base of the rose stem, soaking away into the dark soil.

She is still so much like Gabby, mon amour. A soft, warm glow swelled in Fleur's heart. She has the same veela magicks. The same kind heart. Except when she gets cross, then she is more like her maman. A small smile flitted across her lips, buoyed on a flare of humour. A good thing I have already enchanted everything to be fireproof.

She tilted the can back up. 'I think it is good, non? Our baby bird will grow up to be beautiful and kind just like Gabby, so long as there are no immature little girls to scar her heart.'

That is all it takes to turn a kind sun cruel, non? Fleur watered the other pots one by one, cupping the vibrant red blooms and breathing in their sweet scent. But I will not let them turn her into me.

'Of course, your little chick does not listen to her maman,' she murmured. 'She is adamant about going to Beauxbatons. And she will hate me so much when I do not let her.' A soft pang tore through Fleur's heart. 'But I have to stop her, non? If she goes, they will hurt her, and that will change her like it changed me.'

When she is older, she will understand. I will teach her all the magic she wants to know in the meantime and when the other girls have grown up enough to not hate her, then I will let her go. Fleur set the water can down and sat on the cool, smooth worn patch at the centre of the glasshouse, swallowing a little hot lump. But when she flies away, I will be all alone, mon amour.

A flicker of movement caught her eye.

Katie lingered beneath the budding branches of the cherry trees, her arms folded across her chest and her dark-green eyes narrowed.

See, mon amour? Fleur stifled a small laugh and pushed herself to her feet. When she is cross, she is all me.

She apparated out onto the grass. 'What is it, little chick?'

'Maman, I'm not little.' A huge scowl crept across her daughter's face. 'I am ten.'

Fleur hid her smile behind her hand. 'You'll always be my little chick, Katie. But you have come back very quickly; what is wrong?'

'Nothing,' Katie blurted; her gaze flicked past to the glasshouse. 'I just…'

'When you are older,' Fleur murmured. 'They are very fragile flowers.'

'I'm not going to hurt them!'

'I know you won't try and hurt them, baby bird, but accidents happen and they are very very special to me.' She sighed. 'One day, je te le promets, but not today, okay.'

'Fine,' Katie muttered, glowering at the grass between her slim, dew-soaked shoes. 'I watered my tree, maman.'

'You know it doesn't really need watering anymore. It will have grown a lot of roots since we planted it when you were a baby and it's close to the river.'

She squirmed. 'But it's my tree, maman. I want to look after it.'

'Well, a bit of extra water won't hurt it.' Fleur pointed back at the chateaux. 'Would you like to play a game? Or are you going to read?'

'I'm going to draw more flowers,' Katie said. 'With the enchanted pens you made for me.'

'Do they work?'

She nodded, the green of her irises brightening. 'They work really well, maman, merci beaucoup.'

'C'est bon,' Fleur murmured. 'The enchantments were tricky to get just right, because when you use them, you are leaving behind a thin layer of the inside of the pencil. I was worried only some parts would move.'

Katie shook her head. 'Il est parfait. They move just like I imagine. I drew loads of birds in the trees, like the big black ones across the river from my tree and they flew all around the page.'

'And what are you going to draw today?'

She scrunched up her face into a small frown. 'Roses.'

Fleur hummed and glanced over her shoulder at the crimson flowers within the glasshouse. 'Would you like me to try and make you some coloured ones?'

Katie beamed. 'Yes.'

'I will come and make them with you while you draw, if you like? Then you can feel the magic.'

She skipped through the damp grass back toward the châteaux. 'Can you make them now, maman? I'll need red ones, and green ones for the leaves—'

'I will make you a whole set, little chick,' Fleur promised, trailing her under the cherry trees and up toward the patio. 'All the colours you could ever need.' She tossed her hair over her shoulders. 'I am sure I can find a way to enchant them so you can mix the colours or change the shade.'

Katie paused upon the patio and tugged at her braid, cocking her head with a small frown on her face. 'But how?'

'I will try a few things. Figuring it out is half the fun. Maybe a way to mix the layers… Non, why am I making a whole set of pencils when I can just enchant the pencil to draw whatever colour you imagine?' Fleur laughed. 'That would be better, non, little chick?'

'Mamaaaaan.'

'I know, you are not so little anymore.' She reached out and wrapped an arm around her daughter's shoulders, drawing her close. 'But you are still my little girl. Always.'

Katie pouted.

Fleur kissed her on top of the head and opened the door. 'Go get your drawing stuff, baby bird. Bring me a pencil you are not attached to for me to enchant.'

Her daughter kicked off her shoes and scrambled up the stairs.

'Such a messy little chick.' Fleur tucked them into a neat line against the wall and drifted through to the kitchen, taking her seat in front of the fridge. She twisted her ring around her finger, watching the threads of crimson flow like red ribbons in the wind.

Katie's footsteps thudded overhead and down the stairs.

'Be gentle,' Fleur chided as she skipped barefoot across the kitchen. 'You do not have to stomp, you know. And what happened to your socks this time?'

'I don't like socks. I like to feel things when I touch them.' Her daughter hopped into her chair and hunched over her piece of paper, a thin pencil clutched in her fist.

'Did you bring a pencil for me to enchant?' Fleur asked, drawing her wand.

Katie nodded and poked one across the table. 'That one.'

'You will not miss it if I set fire to it?'

She giggled. 'Non, maman.'

Fleur plucked it off the table and balanced it across her palm, watching Katie poke her tongue out and scrunch her face up as she began to draw with a soft rush of affection. Best to keep it simple. She threaded her magic through the centre of the pencil, folding it over and over into gossamer thin layers. Hopefully you'll have fun with this, baby bird.

Her daughter squirmed, her green eyes flicking up from her page. 'What are you doing, maman?'

Can you feel it?

Fleur placed her wand down and held out the pencil with a small warm smile. 'As long as you imagine the colour strongly enough, this will draw in that colour. Do you want to give it a try?'

Katie cupped it in her hands, cradling it against her chest. 'Mine?'

'All yours, silly little chick,' Fleur murmured. 'I made it for you.'

Her daughter stared at the pencil, a bright curious gleam in her bright green eyes. 'How did you make it?'

'It is a bit complicated. I need to teach you all the basics before we get to things like this.'

Little wrinkles creased Katie's forehead and her fingers tightened around her new pencil.

Fleur smothered a niggle of worry, leaning forward. 'What have you started drawing, mon poussin?'

Within a chaotic field of red flowers and green stems, a small figure with bright silver hair stood beside a taller one, framed by the brown branches of a weeping willow.

'I drew the tree when it's all grown up,' Katie whispered.

Fleur's eyes drifted down across the white space beneath the roses to the tall dark figure at the bottom. Still drawing your papa, baby bird? One day when you are older, I will tell you all about him.

'It will be a few years before it gets this big,' she said. 'But it is already a lot taller than you, non? And you are older than it is.'

'Only just older,' Katie protested. 'By a year.'

'It grows a lot faster than you,' Fleur teased. 'Go on, try your new pencil out. See how well all the colours come out.'

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