HARRY POTTER: THE LOST LEGACY

by peverell.magic

It was on a cold October evening that this story began, an evening that, in the eyes of many people, marked the advent of a new era, an era of great upheavals, although it would affect only a certain category of individuals.

19. CHAPTER 19: ROSIE'S PROPOSAL

CHAPTER 19: ROSIE'S PROPOSAL

Time flowed at the Lamballe castle, and without really realizing it, three weeks had already passed since the little prince's first day of school. The weather was pleasant despite the imminent arrival of autumn, but no one bothered to take advantage of the September sunshine for a stroll in the estate gardens. Instead, everyone chose to spend their day inside the castle, occupying themselves as best as possible while waiting for the third and final meal of the day. Juno's salon was the meeting point for almost all residents and visitors, and a certain excitement was palpable within its walls. Each person tried to occupy themselves as they could, using the various objects at their disposal or seeking assistance from others.

This was the case for Daphne and Astoria, who, as usual, were engaged in yet another lesson aimed at improving their manners and quickly preparing them for the high society they would soon be part of. Under the watchful eye of their mother and occasionally their father, they spent their days walking correctly, speaking correctly, eating correctly, and even thinking correctly.

Some might see this as a more or less radical way of shaping and maturing them quickly, despite their young age. However, such strict education was becoming quite common, and both sisters complied with the demands of their instructors to refine their upbringing.

Today, like any other day, both had much to do. After long hours of sewing practice, during which they had to learn to embroider patterns on a silk handkerchief, it was time for them to learn more about the means of communication employed by women to express their feelings and thoughts without using their mouths for it.

This exercise confirmed the adage that a good woman and a good wife should be a silent woman, speaking only to say sensible things. Learning to speak using tools such as fans or handkerchiefs had a somewhat demeaning aspect in their eyes.

"Why don't men use these things?" Astoria asked while folding and unfolding the fan in her hand. "It's not fair..."

"Because men lack the grace and elegance to know how to use such an object," replied Louise-Elisabeth, who still played the role of their teacher. "Imagine if your father used one: wouldn't you find it strange, if not ridiculous?"

The two sisters immediately turned to their father, as did the few servants and valets present to attend to their every need. As their father raised an eyebrow at the Marquise de Tourzel's remark, his two daughters burst into laughter, imagining him fanning himself as gracefully as a woman. From this perspective, it was clear that it was better for a man to speak with his tongue rather than employ much more subtle and feminine methods.

"And besides, men don't have enough intelligence to memorize all the facets of this exercise," continued Pauline, giving Lord Greengrass a mocking smile.

Cygnus turned red, both from embarrassment and anger at being belittled in front of his daughters. Astoria and Daphne laughed even harder. Even his wife, who was calmly drinking tea and casually reading the latest edition of the wizard's gazette, mocked him slightly, just like Marie-Louise, who almost pitied the poor man for being alone facing so many women.

Despite everything, his thoughts couldn't detach from the letter he currently held in his hands, which he had been reading for over three hours now. Naturally, this letter could only be from his son, and although she was saddened that it took him three weeks to reply, she became much happier upon reading it as it was filled with information. The apprehension of the beginning of the school year was now a distant memory, and although she initially thought that Harry would not be able to endure the strict rules of the school and get along with others his age, she was reassured by the end of the letter.

Her son seemed very happy to be there, flourishing and excited about staying for several years to progress even further. Every description he gave of the buildings, classes, students, and even the caretaker made it seem like he enjoyed his new environment. On the last point, however, she could still sense some tension between him and this man who was evidently hostile towards her little prince. But knowing Harry, she knew he would solve this problem on his own without her having to intervene, even if the desire to say a few words to this Gaston tempted her as well.

She was also particularly delighted to hear that her son had managed to make friends where he had struggled to connect with others before. It was better, after all, for him to face these school years with loyal and devoted friends. From the description he gave of his two new companions, Marie-Louise had no trouble forming a precise idea of these two boys to whom Harry already gave his full trust.

Even after reading this letter four times, she couldn't help but examine it again in detail, hoping to find any hidden notes that might allow her to guess another meaning to certain phrases or annotations. From the corner of her eye, she could also see the evident curiosity and impatience of her son's fiancée, who had not yet had the opportunity to lay eyes on this letter. Daphne had been as anxious as she had been about Harry's schooling, and like her, she had spent the last few weeks looking up at the sky, hoping to see Archimedes and the long-awaited mail. Internally, Daphne must have been boiling with perfectly restrained joy but also with a certain annoyance due to the prolonged wait.

She couldn't even imagine that a second letter, slipped inside the first, was entirely reserved for her, and that she couldn't read it because of the seal on it, which could only be removed by the recipient of the letter. Her future daughter-in-law was likely to be shocked to learn about the conditions in which her fiancé lived, as well as the strict school rules and the sanctions that he and his classmates had to endure from the first days. Marie-Louise hoped that this mysterious letter would help minimize these issues and calm the young girl if the information seemed too difficult to bear.

"Does he talk about me in his letter?" Daphne asked, almost impatiently.

"Hm... Oh yes, in one of the last paragraphs..."

"At the bottom of the letter!?" she exclaimed, looking annoyed. "How audacious! Apparently, I'm not important enough for him if I'm reduced to appearing at the end of his letter..."

"Oh, don't be so quick to judge, my dear. I was about to announce that another letter had been included in my correspondence, and this one is addressed to you. But now I'm wondering if I should destroy it, given the little esteem you just showed for your fiancé..."

"Oh, please, no! I... I shouldn't have expressed myself like that, I regret it! Please, I've been waiting for his news for so long!"

"You can read this letter once you've finished your current lesson," informed Harry's mother, carefully tucking away her correspondence under her thick gown. "Consider it a punishment. Also, you should know that a young lady of your status should not implore people in such a manner. It's not very... proper of you."

Defeated, Daphne sadly lowered her eyes to her hands, imagining the letter that would sooner or later be placed on them.

"Let's resume your lessons, shall we?" Louise-Elisabeth proposed, handing Daphne a fan.

"Is it so important to know how to handle a fan?" Daphne asked wearily. "I can't even feel my wrists anymore after fanning ourselves all the time!"

"Come now, Daphne, I thought you were excited to learn all the subtleties that will make you a respectable lady. The art of the fan is no exception, and you will realize that it will be very useful for you to communicate with people of your status, especially young men eager to court a young lady like you."

"I love it!" Astoria exclaimed, fanning herself joyfully with hers. "It's so funny to think that we can express our thoughts just by waving an object!"

The other adults present smiled slightly at the evident enthusiasm of the younger Greengrass for her lessons, especially her mother, who was surprised herself to discover these strange customs she had never heard of before. It was an opportunity for her to learn from the French and imitate their every move to conduct herself more dignifiedly.

"Let's see if you have remembered your lessons from yesterday, then," Louise-Elisabeth said, fixing her gaze on the two young girls. "For example... How would you tell a young man that you are engaged and, therefore, unavailable?"

Daphné, just like Astoria, began fanning herself quickly, although Daphné did it half-heartedly. A few seconds later, she took advantage of this to twirl her fan, adding a few extra points to her performance compared to her younger sister. Their teacher, on the other hand, started applauding lightly, pleased to see their efforts rewarded.

"Congratulations, my ladies, and especially you, Daphné. It was very clever of you to signal to your interlocutor in a different way that your heart was already taken by another."

Her younger sister shot Daphné a glance, although she didn't even notice.

"And now, to announce that you are married?" Louise-Elisabeth asked. At this question, the two Greengrass sisters fanned themselves much more slowly.

"Is it okay?" Astoria asked, comparing her gesture to Daphné's.

"Perfect! But now, let's make it a bit more challenging... If your interlocutor is bothering you and you want to dismiss him, how would you do it?"

Astoria pondered for a while, eyes turned to the ceiling as she delved into thought to recall this information. Daphné, on the other hand, didn't need much time to think, and her fan quickly changed hands so she could place it on her left ear with a graceful gesture.

"Congratulations, my dear," approved Louise-Elisabeth as Astoria tried to imitate her. "You say you don't appreciate this lesson, but I see that you are particularly diligent and quickly grasp what I teach you."

"Perhaps, but it doesn't change the fact that it's boring and useless..."

"Daphné," her mother lightly scolded, frowning. "Show some respect for your teacher, please. She's not obliged to teach you all of this, but she does it willingly. So, the least you can do to thank her and not be impolite is not to criticize her lessons!"

"Yes, Mom," Daphné replied, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry, Aunt Louise. I shouldn't have said that."

"That's true, Daphné, you could make an effort!" Astoria added mockingly. "How do you expect to turn away your suitors if you don't know the art of the fan? Poor Gabrielounet will be upset to learn that you're not doing anything to protect your little couple!"

Instead of responding with words, Daphné preferred to use what she was taught to express her thoughts to her sister while testing her knowledge. Opening her fan completely, Daphné placed it in front of her face, covering up the yawns she pretended to have. Offended, Astoria turned to her mother for some support, but she preferred to turn her face in the opposite direction, a mocking smile stretching from ear to ear. Daphné's younger sister took the lead and let her fan slide through her hand, signaling her disdain.

The adults, unfamiliar with this strange language, watched them incredulously, wondering what they were talking about.

"You better watch your tongue, Tory," Daphné warned, glaring at her. "Dad could easily find you a fiancé too. Now that we live part of the year in France, the chances of you having one with Aunt Louise and Marie-Louise's help are even greater. And, without wanting to offend you, I doubt you'll ever find a man as good as 'my Gabrielounet,' as you like to call him."

"I've had enough trouble with your engagements, Daphné. I think I'll wait a few more years before considering your sister's case," her father affirmed with a sigh. "Besides, I've already rejected the last two proposals from Lucius Malfoy. It will be over my dead body before one of my daughters marries that Death Eater's son. If he thinks he can wash away all suspicions surrounding him by asking for my daughter's hand, he can keep hoping. But hope keeps us alive, as they say..."

"Ahah! Drago and Astoria!" Daphné exclaimed joyfully. "What a lovely couple you would make!"

Daphné continued to mock her sister for a few minutes, listing the numerous qualities that Lucius's son could have, although these qualities turned out to be flaws that only darkened the already sad image they both had of Draco.

"Stop!" her sister begged, lightly tapping her shoulder. "He's not even handsome!"

"Good, because neither are you!"

"DAPHNÉ!" her mother protested, looking at her furiously. "Apologize now, young lady!"

Daphné blushed slightly, realizing she had become the center of attention for everyone. In an almost inaudible voice, she apologized to Astoria for her unkind remarks. Having to apologize to someone younger than her gave her an uncomfortable feeling of embarrassment, unlike her sister, who took pleasure in accepting her apologies in a very condescending tone, reminiscent of how adults spoke to a young child.

"Real little angels," Pauline remarked sarcastically, observing the conflict between the two sisters.

"It's seeing scenes like this that make me grateful to have only one son," Marie-Louise added. "I don't know if I could have endured the squabbles between two sisters for long..."

Suddenly, the fireplace in the living room came to life, and the surprise was so great that everyone holding a tea cup, except for the hostess, dropped it, causing them to shatter on the floor. Marie-Louise immediately drew her wand, pointing it at the hearth where giant green flames appeared, signaling an imminent arrival. Daphné and Astoria rushed to their mother, hiding behind her, while their father followed Princess de Lamballe, also pointing his wand in the direction where the visitor would appear. Some servants joined them, and soon, nearly a dozen wands were drawn across the room. However, the silhouette that materialized a few seconds later through the smoke strongly unsettled them, especially because it was familiar.

A little girl stood before them, and upon seeing her, all the Greengrasses couldn't help but gasp in surprise. Marie-Louise raised an eyebrow, her cup suspended a few centimeters from her mouth, and her wand quickly stowed in the case attached to her arm, while the rest of the room's occupants looked at the new arrival with astonished expressions. Rosie, as it was her, had a knack for making memorable entrances, and unfortunately for her, the prospect of meeting and discussing with the hostess privately, as she had wished, was now impossible. Dusting off the hem of her dress absentmindedly, she quickly surveyed the room, and upon realizing the presence of several people around her, her face instantly turned a bright shade of red as she immediately lowered her eyes to the floor like a child caught in the act.

"Rosie!" Astoria exclaimed joyfully, rushing towards her with a huge smile on her face.

The hug she gave her could have crushed her bones, but after three months without seeing each other, Astoria found nothing better to show her best friend how much she had missed her. Rosie was surprised by this burst of affection, although she was used to it, and it took her several seconds to respond to the embrace. Her face lit up with a smile, although a very slight anger towards Astoria lingered as she thought about the fact that the Greengrasses were aware of Harry's situation and hadn't whispered a word to her.

"If you only knew how much I missed you!" Astoria exclaimed, releasing her and no longer caring about the adults surrounding them. "I was so bored without you, and that's an understatement. I had to settle for Daphné's company all the time, and you know how annoying she can be at times..."

"Hey!" her sister protested, losing her Olympic calm.

"I must say, I'm surprised to hear that you were bored without me. You had Harry to keep you entertained!" Rosie retorted accusingly. "You could have at least warned me. I'm your best friend, unless those were just empty words!"

Astoria then put on a both sheepish and offended expression, saddened by the thought of what Rosie must think of her at this moment. Her smile disappeared immediately, and in its place, a look perfectly expressing the sadness she felt in the face of these accusations took over her face.

"I'm sorry, Rosie. I swear I only wanted to talk to you about it, but I had to make a magical oath that prevented me from doing so," she confessed pitifully. "And you know that if we don't respect these oaths, we lose our magic."

"Does that mean your oath is canceled now?" she asked as Astoria confirmed by nodding her head. "Perfect, then you can explain everything to me and tell me what Harry did here!"

Realizing she was in a room full of strangers, Rosie quickly lost her confidence. After several furtive glances at each person present, she then spotted Marie-Louise, whom she easily recognized. With timid steps and accompanied by Astoria, who was determined not to leave her alone, she stood in front of her and made a graceful curtsy, taking the hem of her too-short dress to deepen her greetings.

"Hello, madam," she said, keeping her eyes lowered to the ground. "I hoped not to disturb you, but should I perhaps come back later?" she added, covertly observing the many people surrounding them.

"Who on earth is this?" inquired the Marquise de Tourzel, curiously observing Harry's sister. "Hadn't you assured me that your castle was protected from intrusions of this kind?"

"Yes, as long as you don't know the exact term to shout before coming here through the Floo network. But this young lady does, and I am the first responsible for it... As for her identity, doesn't Gabriel constantly talk to us about a seven-year-old girl with hair of this color named Rosie, who speaks English?"

A flash of understanding passed over Louise-Elisabeth's face, and with a simple "Oh," she informed her friend. The latter just smiled before turning her attention back to Rosie, who hadn't moved an inch, just like her eyes, which she stubbornly kept directed towards the floor.

"Is my brother here?" she asked timidly, finally lifting her gaze to look at Marie-Louise's corset rather than her face.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Rosie, but your brother is currently at school and unfortunately won't be back until the holiday season," she said, and Rosie sagged gradually with each word.

"Oh..." she murmured sadly. "I would have liked to talk to him; it's a shame..."

"If you want, I could give you the address to which you should write to talk to him," she kindly suggested. "But it would be better to entrust me with your letters in that case because I doubt an owl could endure such a long journey, and you would also get a response from him much more quickly."

"Really? Oh, that would be kind of you! But we don't have owls, my mom and I..."

"You can use Archimedes," she said, indicating with a slight nod the falcon perched on the windowsill outside.

With no more arguments to refuse the graciously offered help by Marie-Louise, Rosie thanked her with a simple smile as radiant as the sunlight streaming through the windows of the living room.

"Do you have any plans for today, Rosie?" asked the Princess de Lamballe as an awkward silence began to emerge.

"No, well, I thought of going to see Uncle Remus on the docks even though he often tells me I shouldn't walk alone in the streets of London because of my age. But I'm a big girl now! And I know how to defend myself when attacked!"

"That's for sure," agreed Astoria, while Daphne nodded. "You scratch, you bite, you throw punches, and you scream like a banshee to the point of making everyone around you deaf! Merlin, I still remember how you shredded Draco's face at my birthday because he said you had a big butt..."

"He got what he deserved," Harry's sister affirmed with a pout, crossing her arms. "And it was so funny to see him walking like a duck after I hit him between his legs."

"My God, a real little lioness," exclaimed Pauline, provoking a chorus of laughter that made Rosie blush to the roots of her hair.

"That's enough, my dear," reprimanded her mother, giving her a little tap with her fan on the arm. "Stop tormenting this poor girl, or I will be forced to interrupt the correspondence you have with that young officer to teach you to control your tongue."

"But... Mother!" she exclaimed, blushing in turn.

With attention turned to someone else, Rosie took advantage of this sudden disinterest in her to regain composure and finally look up at Marie-Louise, who, to her surprise, had not taken her eyes off her for a single moment.

"Would you like to stay in our company for the afternoon, Rosie?" she kindly offered. "The castle is always open to you, and you can come as often as you'd like."

"I don't know," she mumbled nervously, immediately lowering her eyes to the carpet under her feet. "Mom and Uncle Remus don't know I'm here, and they might worry about my absence if I come back too late..."

"You don't have to stay the whole day," she assured her, "and I would very much like to talk to you about certain matters that we haven't had the chance to discuss since our last meeting. An hour of your free time won't bother anyone!"

"Yes, you're right," she finally agreed, giving a small smile.

"In that case, please take a seat," invited Marie-Louise, gesturing to a seat next to her.

Rosie thanked her with another polite smile before sitting next to her, despite the numerous gazes on her that intimidated her even more. Astoria, on her part, resumed her place on the sofa she had left, and while sitting down, she wondered about her best friend's strange behavior, especially the frequent blushes that were unusual for her. Rosie was usually very sociable and rarely let anyone walk all over her, so seeing her turn as red as a lobster every time someone spoke to her and behave shyly because of a few curious looks seemed very strange. At least, it wasn't like her.

What Astoria didn't know, however, was that all of this was premeditated, and Rosie intentionally made herself blush and behave differently to appear well in front of Marie-Louise. Transitioning from the cheerful and determined little girl she was, she clumsily attempted to present herself now as an innocent and timid child, with the goal of charming her. The seduction phase had started the moment she entered the living room, and it now moved on to its second part. If the first part was about opening up and arousing curiosity, the second aimed to strengthen that interest and present herself in the best possible light, leading to the third stage of attraction. If Rosie wanted to see her plan materialize, she had to present herself in the best possible light, even if it was entirely invented. In her mind, the card of innocence and shyness was undoubtedly the one that would allow her to win the game without risk and make the most of the situation. Now, Marie-Louise had to fall for it, and the difficulty largely rested on this point.

"Where were we, my ladies?" Louise-Elisabeth suddenly asked, redirecting her attention to Daphne and Astoria.

"Astoria had just told me she despised me because I had informed her that her comments were bothering me," informed Daphne.

"Oh, I see... Well then, let's continue! Let's see... How would you ask someone not to forget you so that you can correspond with them?"

"By placing it behind our head," the Greengrass sisters chorused, immediately imitating the gesture they had just described. "Whether it's closed or not doesn't matter, I think," added Daphne, absentmindedly stroking her neck with the fabric of her fan.

Both were praised again by Louise-Elisabeth under the incredulous gaze of Rosie, who wondered what they could be doing. Having never seen someone use a fan to convey messages or feelings through a simple object, the scene was quite perplexing for her. Nevertheless, a small twinge of curiosity and desire arose in her as she watched Astoria now demonstrate how to politely apologize to someone without even needing to use her mouth to do so.

"Would you like to learn the art of fans as well?" Marie-Louise inquired, noticing Rosie's face still directed towards the two Greengrass ladies.

"Excuse me? Oh, um... I don't know, it seems so strange as a lesson, and I've never been a very good student when Mom lectures me. She says I'm too distracted and not serious enough in my work!"

"Well, this will be an opportunity to remedy that," argued Marie-Louise, casually producing a new fan that she slipped into Rosie's hands.

The little girl examined the object for a long time, lingering on the numerous floral patterns and the quality of the fabric, which seemed as soft and silky to the touch as a riverbed slipping between her fingers.

"It's beautiful..." she murmured, looking at the fan with undisguised wonder. "Mom would certainly like to have one!"

"You can give it to her when you no longer see the need for it, or when the language of fans is as familiar to you as the back of your hand."

"Okay! Could you teach me something with this?" she asked eagerly.

"Fold it slightly and place the edges on your right cheek," she instructed, while Rosie immediately obeyed her orders.

"Like this?"

"Yes, and now, what do you think this could mean?"

"Hm... That I look ridiculous?" she suggested playfully.

"Among other things," chuckled Marie-Louise, as did the few people paying attention to their conversation. "But this gesture has a very specific meaning; it simply means 'yes' in response to a question someone might ask you."

"Really? Merlin! I could keep talking to people even if I lost the use of my voice or tongue! And if I put it on the left cheek, it would mean 'no'?"

"Exactly," confirmed the Princess de Lamballe. "You learn fast, my dear!"

Rosie flashed her a particularly large smile, a gesture she had had the opportunity to make very rarely for several weeks, even since her reunion with Harry. Time eventually moved on, and without anyone realizing it, an hour had passed during which Rosie and Marie-Louise got to know each other and grew accustomed to one another. A relationship was starting to form between them, and Rosie gradually understood why Harry held this lady in such high regard, considering her without any hesitation as his second mother.

Moreover, they had the opportunity to learn more about each other by questioning each other about their interests, culinary preferences, or the types of books they enjoyed reading. As time passed, their initially solemn and shy conversation became more open to all topics, even the most personal ones. This detail did not escape the rest of the people present, but no one tried to intrude into their conversation to preserve this intimate moment in which both were completely immersed now.

"Do you have children?" Rosie inquired with a soft voice. "Besides Harry, of course!"

"Hm... Unfortunately, no," Marie-Louise responded, ignoring the explosion of joy in Rosie's mind.

"And would you have liked to have more?" her young interlocutor continued.

"Yes," she admitted thoughtfully. "I cannot help but envy all those women who have had several children, and one of them is none other than the lady sitting next to Daphne. I had the opportunity to see her five children grow up and become responsible adults, and sometimes I regret not having had the opportunity to have some of my own."

"You would envy me less if you endured five pregnancies in your life," Louise-Elisabeth asserted, while Daphne suppressed the urge to swallow at the mere thought of the pain felt during each childbirth. "It is not an easy thing to give life..."

"That's why I am not yet inclined to marry," added her daughter with a sigh. "Many women have lost their lives to it, and I have no desire to become a walking womb and be relegated to the role of a mere birther."

"You'll end up an old maid, and no one will want you, Pauline," argued her mother, slightly furrowing her eyebrows. "You'll have no choice but to join a convent and spend your days alone, having missed out on the beautiful things that marriage offers."

Her daughter sighed again under the incredulous eyes of Rosie, who once again didn't understand a word of their conversation. She then promised herself to study French more seriously as soon as the opportunity presented itself. Not only to have conversations with all these people who were now part of her brother's life but also to have the opportunity to speak this language with the tones and sounds so pleasant to the ears, like music that you never tire of listening to.

"How is your mother, Rosie?" Marie-Louise asked, changing the subject and, more importantly, inquiring about the well-being of the woman she cared about.

At this question, Harry's sister's face darkened slightly as a veil briefly passed through her eyes. This question caught her off guard, and her mind now hesitated on the response to give. Should she lie and pretend that everything was perfectly fine, or, on the contrary, should she confess the truth and express her feelings about the situation to a woman who was a stranger to her? Not that she had a lot to hide, but telling this lady that for a month now her mother had been plunged into deep depression and that, in a way, she was responsible for it, was not really what one could call a cheerful conversation. Rosie even supposed that Marie-Louise might feel that, in a sense, and depending on the words she might use, she was making accusations and reproaches against her, making her responsible for the life they were leading now. But if she wanted to establish a relationship of trust with her and, consequently, become close to her, it was better not to hide anything and be open. Rosie quickly chose this solution to get closer to her brother's second mother.

"Not really well, ma'am," she murmured sadly, lowering her eyes. "There hasn't been a day since Harry's birthday that she hasn't burst into tears and cried because her son was stolen from her. She hardly eats anymore and hardly sleeps, and Uncle Remus sometimes has to give her a dreamless sleep potion so she can rest for a few hours. She has become very thin from not eating properly, and she constantly stays lying on her bed because when she gets up, she feels dizzy..."

"Hm... It might be time for us to have a new discussion to lay out each other's feelings about our son and the decisions we have made concerning him in recent years," she argued thoughtfully, her eyes distant. "I don't want her to waste away to the point of letting herself die without even reacting... Could you arrange a meeting for me with your mother, Rosie?"

"Oh, um... I don't know; she would have to agree to meet you, and I doubt she will. And honestly, I think she's acting really badly since she found out about all this, and it annoys me to see her let herself go so easily without even fighting. We were all surprised by what happened to Harry, but over time we accepted it, but Mom continues to lament her fate without even thinking that what Harry experienced and is still experiencing can only be better than what she could offer him by coming back with us."

"All the more reason to talk to her," affirmed the Princess de Lamballe. "We need to clarify this matter as soon as possible and talk longer than during our son's birthday. It would not be good for her to let herself go like this, especially with a little girl depending on her."

"I'll ask her when I get home then," declared Rosie firmly. "It's time for her to wake up and take control of her life!"

"You are very intelligent, Rosie," her interlocutor then affirmed, looking at her. "I had never noticed, but both you and your brother seem much more mature for your age than other children. Perhaps what you have experienced has made you grow up faster..."

"Maybe," she replied, blushing slightly at the praise.

A brief silence settled again, giving them both time to observe Daphne grumble about "the language of flies" that she was now reviewing with Astoria, Louise-Elisabeth, and surprisingly Belvina. Watching her deliberately stain her face in certain specific places, indicating each time the function of the small black spots she stuck to her skin, was certainly a pleasant sight that managed to further brighten the atmosphere in the living room.

"So, it seems you can use a certain form of magic without a wand?" the Princess of Lamballe suddenly asked, observing her curiously.

"I'm not sure, to be honest," she said timidly. "I think I mostly do accidental magic but have some control over it, you know?"

"Not really," she admitted gently.

"Well, I can't control my magic, and it causes disasters around me. But when I realize it, I manage to reduce the effects it has on what's around me. For example, I avoided one of the manor's windows from completely shattering when I noticed it was cracking as I got angry with Matthew. But I don't think I'm at the same level as Harry; he could do whatever he wanted with his magic when I'm unable to..."

"Let me see," she said, placing a hand on the top of her head.

Rosie obediently let her, and the contact of the hand on her scalp provided her with a pleasant feeling of warmth, giving her a sense of security and protection, as if this simple gesture assured her that she was in good hands and that nothing could happen to her. Seconds and then minutes passed, but nothing happened. Yet Rosie could see her muttering and occasionally furrowing her brow as she obviously analyzed her magical core.

"Curious," said Marie-Louise, reopening her eyes. "Your magical core is certainly smaller than your brother's, but it is still superior to what one might expect in a child your age. I must admit that it is astonishing to see that in your family, two people have such significant magical power... Are there any Potter family members in your ancestors known for the same thing?"

"Not that I know of," Rosie replied thoughtfully. "James is powerful, but he's not stronger than anyone else, and our grandparents weren't particularly powerful either."

"It may come from your mother's side," argued the Princess of Lamballe in an equally pensive tone. "She is a Muggle-born, isn't she? Hm... She might actually be from a long line of Squibs, and she might be the first in centuries to be able to awaken her magical powers... We could look into this when relations between her and me have calmed down."

A sudden frown appeared on her face, and Rosie wondered for a moment if she had accidentally made a mistake or said something that might have offended her. However, what Marie-Louise narrated to her afterward assured her that there had been nothing like that but that a much more important problem had just been discovered in her, of which she had never been aware until now.

"There are binding spells on your magical core," she declared darkly. "Your abilities are limited, as if someone was abhorrently trying to restrain your magic and prevent you from reaching your full potential..."

"Binding spells?" Rosie repeated incredulously as the wizards in the room suppressed a gasp of astonishment at this announcement.

"These are spells that take the form of shields and act on your core to prevent you from using it fully. Just imagine that part of your magic is asleep, and you can't use it until these spells are removed. Moreover, these are particularly complicated and difficult to detect... There is no doubt in my mind about the identity of the person who put them on you, although I wonder why he decided on such a thing..."

"Do you think Dumbledore did this?" Rosie asked, both angry and shocked by this news.

"There can only be him to use such powerful spells," she confirmed. "But I can remove them for you, although it will take time and a lot of energy on my part."

"Thank you," she said sincerely. "Is it... Is it too much to ask if you could also teach me some spells when you've solved this problem? Mom only taught me how to levitate objects, and James didn't want me to learn magic before going to school because he feared I would use it on Matthew. Between us, I think he was more afraid that I would catch up with or surpass his son, as stupid as he is, but he'll never admit it."

"Your brother is that... bad?" Marie-Louise inquired with a curious tone.

"He's worse than bad! The other day, he blew up his bedroom door while trying the Cheering Charm! He's a danger to everyone around him."

The wizards then laughed heartily at this rather amusing anecdote, especially since the movements required for a Cheering Charm were ridiculously simple to perform. Everyone could get an idea of Matthew's level and consequently gauge how dangerous he was when he had a wand in his hand.

"I'd be happy to teach you some spells," declared the Princess of Lamballe in response to her question, "but since we'll rarely see each other, you'll also need to work on your own. I could lend you some books to perfect your learning."

"Thank you, ma'am!" Rosie exclaimed, suppressing the urge to jump on her and hug her.

The sound of the chapel bell next to the castle suddenly rang out, and immediately several faces turned toward the fireplace where a beautiful clock was displayed, now showing 4 o'clock in the afternoon.

"So late!" remarked Belvina, raising an eyebrow. "And to think we'll be eating in just an hour! I haven't seen the time fly!"

"I'd better head back in that case," Rosie said, getting up. "Remus is almost done with his work..."

"Rosie, before you leave, I'd like you to enlighten me," Marie-Louise interrupted her, holding her arm.

"What... What do you mean?"

"I sense that something is bothering you and that you haven't been entirely honest with me by saying that you only came to see your brother, am I wrong?"

To say that Rosie was surprised by this sudden assertion would be an understatement. The horror, and especially the shame of being so easily discovered, almost pushed her to break free from Marie-Louise's grip and run home, but fear left her totally inert in the chair. Unable to move and especially unable to look Marie-Louise in the eyes now, she then searched for the words that could allow her to get out of this predicament without arousing suspicion about her true intentions. However, even delving into the deepest recesses of her mind, no coherent and convincing idea came to her. Frustrated, she admitted defeat and decided to play on honesty to avoid giving others the impression of being a manipulative and self-interested girl. The behavior she had displayed until now disgusted her at that moment, and she regretted trying so hard to deceive this charming woman and her friends by attempting to seduce and manipulate her.

"Listen, ma'am, I'd rather be honest with you and not lie because it's not right. I didn't come here just to talk to Harry, well, yes, but I had something else in mind, and I couldn't wait any longer to talk to you about it. Mom always told me to tell the truth to people so as not to offend them and to stay honest with them to have a good friendly relationship, but I'm doing the opposite here, and I don't like playing the hypocrite..."

"The hypocrite," she corrected patiently.

"Yes... Merlin, that word is complicated... Well, I..."

"I know," Marie-Louise interrupted, raising her hand to silence her. "You came here to convince me to adopt you in the same way as your brother because you feel like you're no longer truly his sister due to the difference in blood flowing in your veins. The term 'half-sister' bothers you because you immediately think that you are only half a sister to him and not the one you were three years ago. In the end, you hope to regain a fulfilled family life and a relationship identical to what you had with your brother."

Rosie looked at her with a bewildered expression, her mouth half-open, and her eyes wide with surprise at being so suddenly exposed. The others present had also heard everything, and you could have heard a pin drop, so profound was the astonishment that had appeared in each one. All eyes immediately turned to Harry's sister, but she paid no attention to them, still incredulous at being laid bare in a way she was not prepared for.

"H-how did you know?" she stammered in horror.

"Legilimency, my dear," Marie-Louise replied, forming a mocking smirk at the corner of her lips. "Your Occlumency barriers are nonexistent, and it's easy for me to read through your mind to discover even the slightest of your secrets."

Rosie blushed with embarrassment, immediately lowering her eyes without it being calculated this time.

"I won't hide from you that this idea crossed my mind when I met you in July, and knowing your situation and that of your mother, I assumed that it could allow you and Gabriel to find each other and live your lives without worrying about your father and Dumbledore. But you see, Rosie, I don't want to repeat the same mistakes made two years ago when I made that decision for your brother. Your mother wouldn't tolerate me choosing for her and approving your request without consulting her, so I won't adopt you until your mother is favorable to this idea."

"But... But she'll never agree..." Rosie murmured sadly, suppressing the urge to cry at this failure. "She'll say you're stealing her second child without even thinking about what I might feel on my side... please, ma'am, can you still do it? Mom doesn't need to be told..."

"No, Rosie," she interrupted more firmly than before. "It's not doing you a service to accept your request, and it's a decision that needs careful consideration. I don't think you've weighed the pros and cons of this situation yet. Think about what could happen to you if you changed your identity like your brother: Your life would be different, and your habits would be too. It's another world, another life that would open up to you, but it would force you to abandon along the way a part of what you once had. Are you ready for that, ready to give up the identity of Rosalyn Potter for another that you're not necessarily prepared for?"

Rosie didn't answer, but faced with Marie-Louise's refusal, her eyes began to moisten as she lowered her head, defeated. Her dream, or rather her desire, slowly collapsed before her eyes as she thought about her words, which she now analyzed in a new light. Yes, her decision might still be too hasty, and it was better to prepare for it by questioning the repercussions that a change of identity could have on her and others. However, she was still determined to go through with her idea, for her own well-being first, but especially to feel connected to Harry again.

Suddenly, two fingers gently grabbed her chin to lift her head, and two blue orbs immediately crossed hers, in which she could easily read compassion and maybe even a hint of tenderness, which she was not accustomed to from strangers.

"I can possibly prepare a potion in advance if your mother approves your request," Marie-Louise said in a soothing tone.

"Marie, finally, you're not thinking about it, are you?" Louise-Elisabeth muttered as the others held their breath at this turn of events. "This young lady is just making a whim... And what will people say knowing that you have a second child? No one would be fooled, and everyone would know she's not your husband's daughter! Do you want to discredit yourself by making others believe that you had an extramarital relationship with a perfect stranger?"

"Nothing is decided yet," she reminded her, conjuring up a vial and a knife with a wave of her wand. "This potion takes three weeks to be made, so we would have ample time to think about a possible scenario that could explain her existence."

"Aunt, Mother is right," argued Pauline, looking just as worried as her mother. "Don't rush into an adventure that could cause you much more harm than you can imagine... Gabriel's adoption could easily be explained by a plausible story, but this one would be much more difficult to set up and be convincing without giving you a bad reputation with your friends and..."

"I am well aware of that, Pauline," she interrupted, cutting Rosie's palm to collect a few drops of blood. "Believe me, I don't take this lightly, and if the risks are too significant for me or for this young lady and her mother, I will never go through with my plan."

Faced with their hostess's determination, everyone fell silent, although the reactions were still mixed following this decision. Even Daphne and her sister were surprised by Rosie's idea, and although they found nothing to object to, the prospect of their friend potentially changing her identity so easily troubled them deeply. This decision was not to be taken lightly, and they were fully aware of it. The question for them was whether Rosie understood it as well. She, in fact, was barely containing the joy that had entered her heart, although the lingering glances she felt on her made her uneasy once again.

"There you go," Marie-Louise said, closing the vial containing Rosie's blood, which she made disappear before healing the cut on her hand. "Remember, Rosie: I will only do this if your mother gives her consent. So, you'll not only have to talk to her but also convince her. Since your mother refuses to talk to me, you will be the only one to face her."

"I understand..." stammered Harry's sister, anticipating the upcoming confrontation. "You don't know how much this means to me, ma'am, and I'm immensely grateful to you."

Sensing that it was now time to leave, Rosie finally rose from her seat. However, as she was about to head towards the fireplace to return home, she suddenly felt like she hadn't properly thanked her hostess for her kindness and patience. After all, Marie-Louise could have held a grudge against her for being the target of her schemes, but she hadn't reproached her for a single moment. Taking a deep breath for courage, Rosie climbed back onto her chair to thank her properly, embracing her in a hug that surprised many. Even Harry's mother was taken aback by this display of affection, and she awkwardly responded by nervously patting Rosie's head as she nestled against her shoulder. The image they conveyed at that moment was quite striking, and anyone unaware of their situation could easily believe they had a close familial bond.

"Thank you, ma'am," Rosie murmured near her ear.

"Call me Marie-Louise, Rosie. You don't need to be so formal with me!"

Rosie simply nodded before finally extricating herself from her embrace and heading back to her life in London. However, she didn't forget to bid farewell to everyone, making Astoria promise not to forget her this time and to write to her constantly, not leaving out any details about her life and her brother's.

"What a strange day," Louise-Elisabeth exclaimed once Rosie had disappeared. "The magical world truly baffles me. The time when we didn't have all these problems seems so distant..."

"I would tend to think that these problems are just beginning," argued Cygnus, who had been surprisingly quiet today. "I hope you will think long and hard about Rosie's proposal before accepting it," he added to Marie-Louise. "I like this young lady and her mother a lot, and I wouldn't want any harm to come to them due to this decision."

"Do not worry about such things, Cygnus," she replied, calmly sipping the tea she had just conjured. "I will never make hasty decisions if it endangers the lives of others."

"May God hear you, my friend," sighed the Marquise de Tourzel. "May God hear you."

Meanwhile, unaware that his sister and adoptive mother's fate could take an unexpected turn he could never have imagined, Harry also faced problems that fortunately only concerned himself. Currently in the room designated for magical duels, Harry confronted his last opponent of the day, Auguste Boulanger, after a very long day of facing numerous adversaries. The rest of their cohort also attended this duel, all sitting cross-legged near the walls, forming a wide enough area for the two combatants to engage.

The tension was palpable in the air, solely attributable to the two combatants who eyed each other as if facing a particularly repugnant worm they dreamed of crushing. It wasn't surprising to see them act this way towards each other, given the animosity both harbored. Yet, no one deemed it necessary to comment, even in hushed tones, to inform their neighbors. Everyone preferred to watch the impending clash between the two top students of their year, who promised a much better spectacle than the previous fights they had witnessed.

The day was indeed dedicated to magical duels, during which Professor Montmorency could assess the level of each of his new students as he pleased, determining the challenges he would face with each of them in the arduous learning of magic. He too was now watching his two best students prepare for the confrontation, and deep down, he had to admit that he was very eager to see them in action, especially Harry, upon whom he already placed great hopes given his knowledge and the more than visible progress he had over the rest of his classmates.

"I sense you're particularly nervous, Félix," his colleague discreetly remarked, tilting her head slightly towards him. "Perhaps it's the inevitable duel we're about to witness that's putting you in such a state?"

Montmorency merely shot her a glare while Marguerite Riva, who had agreed to assist him in this training and analysis session, smiled proudly, having easily dampened the excitement that had animated him until then. Yet, she too had to admit that she was looking forward to seeing these two boys in action. Just like Félix, she was surprised and delighted to find such a brilliant student in her class, especially Harry. She doubted whether she could ever teach him anything, attributing his vast knowledge in her branch of magic to the education he had received so far. She was convinced that Gabriel de Bourbon would go very far, and witnessing the first steps of this young man and seeing him become undoubtedly an important figure in French society and politics was already a spectacle for which she was willing to follow the developments until age and illness prevented her from resisting life's uncertainties any longer.

Her opinion was, in any case, shared among her colleagues. Not a single one doubted that Harry would prove incapable of succeeding in anything he undertook one day. Given the performances he achieved every day in every subject and the confidence he displayed every time he raised his wand, there was no doubt that anyone betting on a meteoric rise within the armed forces would see their bet pay off.

Harry, on his part, was unaware of the hopes placed on him by the teaching staff, and truth be told, he paid little attention to it. Since the beginning of the school year, his main concern had been to ingratiate himself with them and to behave in an exemplary manner that would honor his name and family. According to him, some things still needed improvement in that regard: being pampered for three years by several dozen servants and members of his new family had made him particularly conceited and, at times, lazy. Living in this school brought to light all these flaws he could have done without.

Problems had started on the day following the start of the school year, and as early as the morning after, he caught the attention of the dormitory monitor for failing to wake up despite the bugle heard in the schoolyard and the commotion caused by his roommates as they all hurried to get ready. Harry had peacefully continued his sleep in his bed, despite the shaking from Nicolas and Jules who tried in vain to get him out from under his covers. Not accustomed to waking up so early, Harry was unable to get up, and it took the monitor's assistance to get him up and into the bathroom with his classmates. That morning, Marie-Louise's son discovered the school's radical method for waking up the lazy: a cold water spray.

Shivering, wet in a nightshirt now clinging to his skin, and shivering from head to toe, Harry immediately ranked this day as the worst wake-up call he had ever had in his entire life, far surpassing the few times when James thought it appropriate to personally pull him from the arms of Morpheus and physically attack him. Fortunately, and thanks to his mother's knowledge of the drying spell, notably used by her chambermaids to quickly dry his wet clothes and sheets, he did the same with what he had and was soon able to go wash up with his two friends, inwardly swearing never to laze around in bed again as long as he was here.

The bathroom itself was quite intriguing, with a strange system attached to the ceiling allowing students to wash their entire bodies without using a lot of water. Although surprised by this strange body-cleaning method, everyone complied willingly, even though most regretted not being able to bathe in the warm water of a bathtub or in a cool and inviting river. The water was particularly cold but had the merit of waking them up completely, as cold water has the ability to invigorate the body without the need for muscle exercises.

Next came dressing, and Harry quickly noticed that some students were unable to dress properly without the help of one or even two comrades to assist them in their task. It must be said that the equipment they all had to wear was quite heavy and difficult to put on if one was not prepared. So, when the monitor returned to check the condition of the dormitory and the uniform of each student, very few had managed to be impeccable in his eyes. Even Harry made a mistake that day, and as his monitor noted, his bed, although impeccable, still bore some traces of moisture from the water he had been sent to wake him up. The end result was that he had to redo his bed entirely after the man had unceremoniously pulled the blankets off, throwing them to the ground, and an additional lap around the courtyard for warm-up was also offered for his two transgressions in less than half an hour.

But aside from that morning, the following weeks were much calmer for him, even though the training every morning was exhausting and tiring. Moreover, he had to overlook the hostility of some of his classmates for the sole reason that he was of noble descent unlike them. Initially, only the other children from French nobility and his first two friends overlooked his title as a prince and the immense wealth he would possess later on. But, thanks to his academic results and his willingness to always help those struggling in certain subjects, few held a grudge against him for his royal status, although Harry was still far from considering them reliable companions for whom he would have full and total trust in the future.

The classes themselves were very interesting, albeit a bit easy for him, who had only reviewed the basics of magic for three weeks while the rest of his classmates discovered that every wand movement and intonation of the voice had a crucial importance in the success of the spell they wished to use. The interest was mainly focused on the efforts the other boys made to achieve a satisfactory result in their work, and he restrained the urge to laugh many times seeing some of them manage to explode their desks by failing to levitate an object. Even his two friends had some difficulties in progressing, but Harry made it a point to help them in everything they undertook, especially when it came to writing their assignments and reading the information written on the boards in the classrooms.

Quickly, he realized that very few students knew how to write, let alone read, and that during the support classes given during breaks and weekends, almost all of his fellow regiment mates attended, while he enjoyed a refreshing and rejuvenating freedom. Some couldn't even hold a quill between their fingers, and it was not uncommon to see parchment sheets with holes and tears, if they weren't stained with ink all over the surface. It seemed to him that the main difficulty for his friends and the rest of their cohort was not going to be learning magic but simply these basic things that were so difficult for them.

The first classes were thus an opportunity for the teachers to help them in this heavy task, and regardless of the subject, each did their best to assist them so that they could start the real school program as soon as possible. Harry himself was praised by his superiors for his willingness to help his friends rather than patiently waiting for everyone to achieve satisfactory results, and in no time, almost all the teachers were charmed by his noble and genuinely kind attitude.

However, it was only during the morning training sessions that the difference in skill between him and his classmates narrowed, especially when it came to physical strength. Despite being talented in everything related to magic, Harry's musculature was quite ordinary, and sometimes even inferior to that of some of his classmates, which they didn't hesitate to remind him of from time to time. Lifting heavy bags and running through a maze of obstacles was much more challenging than it seemed, and he quickly realized that in this game, he was not the best in his class.

On the other hand, swordplay and horsemanship were two areas he had mastered for a long time. A noble worthy of the name had to learn from a young age to practice these properly. In fact, the only difficulty Harry encountered since his arrival at the academy was getting on the back of his horse with all the weight of the uniform and the gear he had to carry and install on the animal's back. At this rate, there was no doubt that he would quickly surpass the expectations of his teachers, and he was well aware of it.

Even the older students saw him as a very good element of the academy and could get an idea of who Harry was by being around him, even from a distance. Harry, in fact, aroused their curiosity less than two days after his arrival by defeating a fourth-year student in less than a minute, who had the misfortune of wanting to challenge him, thinking he could humiliate a representative of the nobility. It turned out badly for him, his little game quickly came to an end, and with a burning pain between his legs, he had to go to the infirmary to treat his sore limbs.

Hazing stopped very quickly after that day, and no one dared to harm Marie-Louise's son or his comrades for fear of the reprisals that Gabriel de Bourbon could orchestrate. A certain respect even emerged among them for him, not only for his prince status and the history of the two families he represented but also for his magical abilities, which quickly spread throughout the school. Harry could not have dreamed of a better start to the school year, and while he was quite anxious about joining this academy three weeks ago, he now felt perfectly integrated and already wanted to push his luck further and make a name for himself to show what he was worth in real combat situations. Unfortunately, a soldier could only go to war from the age of fifteen, to his great dismay, but he hoped to shorten this time by impressing his superiors more and quickly assimilating what he could still learn from them. It was not uncommon to see him working during his free time in the library, spending hours with his nose glued to the pages of the manuals he read and memorizing all the information.

But while everything seemed perfect at first glance, some negative points still persisted in the midst of this welcoming environment, and the most important was undoubtedly Gaston, the irritable caretaker who had evidently made it his mission to make his life difficult. Not a day went by without Harry being the target of one of his insults, and not a week without him being punished for a breach of the rules, most of the time invented by Gaston. A dirty corridor where he happened to be? The fault was attributed to him. A broken window due to a failed spell? He was the designated culprit, even if he was on the other side of the school at that time. A student shouting too loudly? Once again, Harry bore the brunt of the caretaker's bad temper. The punishments he suffered were also very tiring and often required a lot of effort, such as dragging heavy bags through an obstacle course or cleaning all the windows in a wing of the school without using magic.

But despite these injustices, Harry did not complain, and much to the caretaker's chagrin, he accepted these punishments without a fuss, even flashing a mocking smile at him on numerous occasions to make him fume even more. The man had absolutely no basis in Occlumency, and it was very easy to make him angry: Anyway, even the slightest annoyance made him scream, so Harry didn't need to be creative to get under his skin.

The animosity between them was known to everyone, including the teachers, but no one deemed it necessary to inform the headmaster. It was better to solve one's problems on one's own rather than bother others, risking appearing weak in their eyes. The rule was simple and boiled down to "figure it out for yourself and act like a man," a rule that everyone, from the first to the last year of training, followed to the letter and scrupulously respected. Consequently, Harry chose to find a solution to this thorny problem on his own. Although, for now, he couldn't come up with an idea to make Gaston refrain from insulting him in the future without risking expulsion or a punishment he would remember for the rest of his life, he knew that sooner or later, he would turn the tables and permanently solve the problem he jokingly called the "sour and grumpy caretaker."

Only one other person managed to surpass Gaston in the ranking of individuals Harry did not appreciate: Auguste Boulanger, his now official rival and, unfortunately for him, dormitory neighbor. The fact that he was facing him in a duel today allowed him the opportunity to have some fun at his expense and to cast all the spells that came to his mind to settle the scores he had with him. Everything set them apart, at least that's what Auguste thought. If Harry had indeed tried on the first day to talk to him when he realized that their beds would be side by side, he quickly lowered his ambitions regarding him.

Coming from a rather modest background, Auguste was - ironically - the son of a baker and a witch mother. Throughout his childhood, he had to endure his father's long monologues constantly complaining about their poor living conditions, blaming the previous regime that governed the country, without even realizing that his situation was much easier and more valued than the poor peasants working hard every day in their fields, accumulating diseases and health problems over time. His son, after many years of brainwashing, consequently approved his father's words and did not hesitate to show it openly, especially in front of Harry.

From the first day, he did not refrain from expressing all the hatred he had for him. Despite Harry offering him a handshake when he tried to be friendly, he chose to spit on it outright before calling him a "royalist collaborator" and an "enemy of the people." Harry did not flinch at his insult, but he felt from that moment on that understanding between him and this boy would probably never happen. To mark the occasion and openly display the tension between them, Harry opted for the backup plan. He wiped his hand, covered in saliva, on the uniform of his self-proclaimed rival and enemy before calmly finishing settling into the dormitory without even caring about what Auguste might feel.

Subsequently, their disputes continued, although most of them were orchestrated by Auguste. Not a day went by without the two of them resorting to invective, if not using their fists to gain respect. Generally, Harry preferred to maintain impeccable behavior on these occasions, and according to his own philosophy, silence was the best contempt and showed a much nobler way of expressing hatred towards someone. The rare times he responded to provocations, Harry kept perfect control over his emotions, addressing Auguste with highly imaginative and derisive remarks.

"Why do you persist in constantly approaching me and recounting all these horrors, Boulanger? It would be easy for an unenlightened mind to believe that you harbor some amorous feelings for me, prompting you to seek my attention. Unfortunately, I must inform you that I do not partake in such affairs, and it is regrettable for me to shatter your heart by trampling upon the love you bear for me," he had once said, making Auguste blush with anger and the few students around them burst into laughter.

But if Harry enjoyed humiliating Auguste by making fun of him, he had to admit that Auguste possessed more boldness and courage than the other students in the school. Above all, he had more knowledge of magic than their first-year peers. Perhaps having a witch for a mother contributed to this, but Auguste knew more spells than the other students of the same age. In the hierarchy of the best students, he easily secured the second position without even needing to showcase the extent of his talent to everyone. Perhaps that was why his feelings towards Harry seemed to intensify over time, and the mere thought of him being just behind in the imaginary ranking of the best students made him seethe with anger. However, Harry cared very little about this, too occupied with his efforts and keeping an eye on Auguste, thinking that his rival might be the kind of person to attack others from behind when they weren't paying attention.

It was, therefore, amusing that these two would find themselves face to face for a final duel in which each had a personal goal to achieve: asserting their position as the best student for one and toppling their adversary from the pedestal for the other, claiming superiority over all. Needless to say, the clash of egos was about to take place.

"This is the last duel for today," announced Professor Montmorency, looking at them simultaneously. "I don't want any fighting, no scandalous behavior that tarnishes our school, and no insulting remarks, or you risk receiving exemplary punishment. Be impeccable in your actions as well as in your words. Am I clear?"

Two nods answered him without his two students taking their eyes off each other.

"Greet your opponent according to the established rules for a magical duel," Professor Montmorency ordered them.

Both approached each other, and when only two meters separated them, each drew their wand from the holster attached to their forearm, presenting it in front of their face in the same way fencers would.

"I'm going to beat you so badly that you'll beg me to stop this duel," Auguste said, smiling maliciously.

"In a closed mouth, no fly enters," replied Harry. "Your arrogance will be your downfall, Boulanger."

Harry was satisfied to see that his words had affected his opponent, and he suddenly turned bright red as anger overtook his reason and emotions. From the lessons he had received from his mother, one thing came up very often: self-control, which, if lacking, could alter an individual's duel abilities and give their opponent a significant psychological advantage. The outcome of a battle was, therefore, rarely in favor of the one who lost their temper first, and Harry knew perfectly well that, at the moment, even though he hadn't fought Auguste yet, he had a greater chance of success at the end of this battle than before.

"Now step back ten paces and wait for my signal before you can start facing each other," their professor commanded, moving away to join Marguerite Riva and the rest of the students. "No attacking each other from behind while the other has their back turned, and using deadly spells against your opponent is forbidden. Everything else can be useful, so use everything you know."

The two boys simply nodded and, once again, followed the rules outlined by their superior. Their footsteps echoed on the parquet floor of the room in a cathedral-like silence, and each watched the wall they were heading toward, keenly aware of any signs behind them that could inform them of a potential sneak attack. Then, at the end of the ten paces, both turned to face each other, their wand-holding arm extended in each other's direction, and their legs slightly apart, like two fencers would.

"Are you ready?" Montmorency asked them, looking alternately at his two students. "Begin!" he shouted loudly when both confirmed they were waiting only for his signal.

"Stupefy!"

Auguste was the first to attack, and the brilliant red spell that shot out of his wand headed straight for Harry, who didn't even move to avoid it. Harry merely made a simple wand movement to deflect it without bothering to give the impression of being fully engaged in the battle. Truth be told, he seemed almost bored. His opponent, surprised by his behavior, was somewhat destabilized by his nonchalance. Still, without wasting a minute, he continued his assaults by sending five more spells in Harry's direction.

"Come on, Boulanger, can't you do better than that?" taunted Harry, deflecting the spells once again. "I thought you wanted to teach me a lesson, or was it just empty boasting?"

"Shut up, Bourbon!" the other raged, quickly losing his temper. "Expelliarmus!"

It was clear to Harry that his opponent had absolutely no plan to defeat him, nor had he prepared any tactics to overcome him. His strategy ultimately boiled down to casting every spell he knew without stopping and without even caring about the level of magic he possessed, risking quickly running out of energy. Harry, on the other hand, contented himself with countering the spells using the Shield Charm, all the while anticipating Auguste's moves by using Legilimency to foresee all the movements and spells he would use. The battle quickly became boring for him, and the excitement he had felt earlier rapidly turned into sheer boredom.

So, Harry decided to raise the stakes a bit. With a wand movement, he exploded the floor in front of him, creating a hole about twenty centimeters in diameter. Wood debris flew in all directions, and with another magical flick of his wand, he turned one of them into a rock solid enough to withstand his opponent's spell, which he placed in its trajectory. The collision between the stone and the spell happened quickly, and the rock split in two upon impact.

Without wasting time, Harry sent the two rocky masses in Auguste's direction, making sure not to aim directly at him. After all, it was better to avoid seriously injuring his opponent, even if the said opponent wasn't someone he liked. Surprised by this counterattack, Auguste barely had time to throw himself to the ground before the two pieces of rock whistled past his ears, coming to a halt a few meters away. Boulanger took advantage of the noise caused by the stones on the wooden floor to breathe a sigh of relief. However, his relief was short-lived as he saw the floor crack and explode in several places around him.

For a moment, he even thought he was standing on a fragile wooden plank that could give way under his weight and drag him into a pit. However, his apprehensions calmed slightly as he saw strange vine-like plants emerge from the cracks and crevices that had appeared all around him. The vines rose in the air like snakes and continued their ascent by contorting in the same way as belly dancers. Then, when they were high enough, the plants immediately lunged at him, and even before he had the idea of trying to escape, they wrapped around his body, immobilizing his ankles and wrists within seconds, gripping him enough to prevent him from moving and testing the strength of his new bonds.

Auguste realized at that moment that he was completely doomed. In his fall to avoid the two rocks, he angrily discovered that he had accidentally dropped his wand and was now without any means of escape. The plants lifted him a few inches off the ground, just enough for him to face his opponent—a opponent who, by the way, couldn't seem to wipe the mocking smirk off his face.

It was then that he noticed Harry's position, and in a matter of seconds, he understood that he had been completely played by him.

"Already tired, Boulanger?" Harry sneered. "I had hoped to have more fun with you… Unfortunately, it seems I overestimated you."

In the cathedral-like silence, Harry began to explain to everyone present the tactic he had devised to tilt the battle in his favor, and all listened attentively to his words, even the professors.

"You see, Boulanger, your main flaw is your lack of control over your emotions, and you can easily let yourself be carried away by them if you're not careful," he explained in a serious tone. "I knew that by mocking you, you would be driven to lose patience and let anger take over, risking making numerous mistakes leading to your defeat, and that's precisely what happened. Anger blinded you, and you easily fell into the trap I set against you. Anyone who kept their cool could have easily avoided the rock I sent in your direction, but you threw yourself flat on your stomach, anticipating my move too late. I then only had to put the last piece of my plan in place."

With a nod of his head, he indicated his wand, which he had planted in the middle of the hole caused by the earlier explosion.

"My spell is a creation of my great-great-great-grandmother, Countess Marie de Bourbon de Soissons, shortly after she conducted extensive research on a plant called 'Devil's Snare.' The principle is the same except that I control this plant, and it's no longer afraid of light. I was able to make this plant appear under the floor of this room without you even realizing it, to bind you entirely and prevent you from freeing yourself. The fact that you lost your wand is just a detail I hadn't thought of but which, in the end, assured me a total victory over you. Now, I could easily command it to crush your bones by tightening your bonds, or make you violently collide with the walls or ceiling to the point of losing consciousness… Or, we can shorten this by announcing that you surrender. The choice is yours, Boulanger."

The prospect of being shattered into a thousand pieces was enough for Auguste to accept defeat. His head bowed slightly, a sufficient answer for Harry and the others to understand that he admitted defeat. Harry then untied him and almost immediately made the long vines that held him disappear. Boulanger collapsed on the floor, slightly panting from the lack of oxygen caused by his bonds, and his eyes fixed on the floor without daring to lift them to observe the reactions of his peers.

"Auguste Boulanger having chosen to surrender, victory goes to Gabriel de Bourbon," declared Professor Montmorency solemnly. "Congratulations, young man."

Almost like a signal, Jules and Nicolas immediately came to congratulate Harry in their own way by jumping on him, while the rest of the students were divided between simply applauding or joining their classmates to celebrate with them this victory that, in the end, was logical but well-deserved. Ultimately, most chose the latter option, and in no time, Harry found himself surrounded and complimented from all sides; the hostility from the beginning of the school year was now just a distant memory.

"His level is far superior to that of his peers," argued Professor Montmorency, observing Harry being congratulated by his friends. "I wouldn't be surprised if he's even capable of competing with and defeating fourth or fifth-year recruits."

"And what do you suggest, Félix?" Marguerite asked him. "Transfer him directly from the first to the fourth year? Send him off like recruits of his age to who knows where? Come on, my friend, he's still too young..."

"I didn't have that in mind, rest assured. But it's certain that he won't progress magically by continuing the same training as his peers, and several of us have been thinking about this in recent weeks. I need to inquire about this issue with Colonel Pajol so that we can find a solution that satisfies all parties. This young boy has great potential, and it would be foolish to limit his progress by having him continue the same schooling as now. More advanced courses would be an ideal solution for him, just as in the near future, we could introduce him to the reality of the field so that he prepares as best as possible for what is expected of him and his comrades."

"Hm... Let's wait and see what he is capable of before considering that. He's only been here for a few weeks, and we might well find a problem with him that could prevent him from joining his regiment comrades in combat for now."

"Yes, let's wait; it would be the wisest course for the moment," Félix concluded sharply. "Gentlemen, attention!"

The celebrations came to an immediate halt, and in less than ten seconds, three perfectly aligned lines faced the professor, each student more or less straight and achieving a much more satisfactory result than on the first day of school. None of the boys had stumbled or tangled their legs in trying to stand correctly, in any case.

"I want to congratulate you once again for the work accomplished today," Professor Montmorency began, pacing in front of them. "The level of some here still leaves much to be desired, but I'm delighted to see that you're already putting to use the knowledge that has been imparted to you in recent weeks by your teachers. Some have pleasantly surprised me in their duels, and as for the rest, they have only confirmed what I already thought of them."

His gaze briefly fell on Harry, Auguste, and surprisingly Jules, who had managed to go relatively far in the tournament.

"This tournament had, in truth, two objectives: Firstly, it was essential for us to assess each of your levels, and I'm not just talking about your magical abilities and the spells you know and use. Logic, physical strength, and even your behavior were also tested to evaluate your abilities in each of these areas, and it's evident that some of you are quite incapable of keeping your calm when the situation doesn't turn in your favor..."

His eyes lingered for a few seconds on Auguste, who was unable to sustain the piercing gaze that Professor Montmorency directed at him.

"Waving a wand and wielding a sword are not the only skills we seek in you, and it is crucial that you work on each facet of your personality, just as it is essential that you continue your efforts to progress and gain experience. Today, we were able to identify your strengths, but also your weaknesses and how to remedy them. Your difficulties will be overcome over time, and what was once your weakness will become your strength."

Professor Riva then stood up from her seat to stand next to her colleague, facing the students with a strange smile on her face.

"The second objective concerned your school program for this year," she continued. "A first exam will be given to you in November, and it will be very special as it will be a real combat scenario, a practical test, if you will. Depending on your skills and abilities, you will be divided into two distinct but equally important groups, which we can call Blue Formation and Red Formation. Each group will have a leader, or as the English call it, a commander, who will be in charge of the formation and must lead it. It is therefore needless to say that Mr. Bourbon and Mr. Boulanger will be the two leaders."

The heads immediately turned toward the two in question, and many students were already hoping to be part of the group that Harry would lead when the opportunity arose.

"The goal of this exam is simple: defeat your opponent and conquer their positions. For this, you will be required to neutralize all your enemies and take the base assigned to them. You will need to show cunning, logic, teamwork, and intelligence to achieve this result, as well as to use everything you have been taught to tilt the balance in your favor. Every detail counts, and all must be analyzed to allow you to win the victory."

Marguerite paused to allow her students to reflect on her words before finally delivering the blow that would alarm more than one.

"Your academic average will depend largely on the result you obtain on that day, but know that each of you will be evaluated on how they participated in this exam. For instance, a student part of the winning team but who did absolutely nothing for it will receive a poor grade, and vice versa. Also, be aware that all members of the winning team will be granted leave to reunite with their families for the end-of-year holiday period. As for the rest, they will, of course, stay here to reflect on what may have caused their defeat. So, be attentive and diligent in your lessons to prepare for your exam as best as possible."

No one dared to murmur about Professor Riva's last words and the apparent importance of the result for this arranged battle. However, Harry could easily feel the insistent gazes of others on him, and he didn't need Legilimency to understand that everyone saw him as the ticket to spending Christmas with their parents. The chapel bell suddenly rang somewhere in the school, interrupting them all in their thoughts, and strangely, several stomachs rumbled at that moment.

"Good Lord, time has passed quickly," Montmorency sighed as he put on his frock coat. "Gentlemen, it seems it's time to eat, so I won't detain you any longer. Dismissed!"

"Really, Gab', you'll have to teach me all those wand tricks!" exclaimed Nicolas as they left the room heading towards the dining hall. "You should have seen Boulanger's face earlier; it was really hilarious! The poor guy will take time to recover from his defeat!"

"Wasn't it you he beat in less than 30 seconds?" argued Jules, looking at him irritably. "You weren't so proud at that moment either."

"Oh, shut up, Rivelli! You really have a talent for getting on my nerves when I'm in a good mood!"

"I was just reminding you that you have no right to swagger like a prince when you were ridiculous earlier. Did you really think the levitation spell could make you win?"

"I wanted to levitate him! That way, I would have lifted him high enough to make him fall and knock him out!"

"Mister-I-can't-even-levitate-a-feather declared that as if you, being as foolish as you are, wouldn't have ended up levitating yourself thinking you were aiming for the other!"

Their dispute continued for a long time, and Harry didn't even participate. He preferred to focus on what the next few weeks held for him, especially this practical exam where he would have to demonstrate his command abilities and show enough intelligence to succeed. Seventeen students would count on him, and there was no room for error if he wanted to see his mother at Christmas. So, even before this exam day arrived, he decided to start thinking about a good strategy by already analyzing the strengths and weaknesses of each of his classmates. It was better to know early on to help them overcome their shortcomings and become a prepared and united group in the face of the upcoming challenges. Now, all that remained was to know the names of the students accompanying him in this task, and the sooner, the better.

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