"You speak French?" The girl looked at William with surprise.
"Just a bit," he replied. "This summer, one of my… mentors suggested I pick up some French."
Though his French was far from perfect, only enough for basic conversations, it was impressive for a twelve-year-old.
And thankfully, the stunning girl before him seemed to know only "hello" and "sorry."
While William and the girl were chatting, Dumbledore and Madame Maxime moved slightly away.
"I apologize," Madame Maxime said, though without the slightest tone of apology in her voice, "Fleur still hasn't learned to control her natural talent."
Dumbledore chuckled.
"It is a rare gift that she possesses. But I must say, I'm surprised—William doesn't seem affected in the least."
Children with Veela blood tended to develop an enchanting aura as they grew older, an allure that could unintentionally mesmerize those around them.
This magic usually required training to control, and Fleur clearly hadn't yet learned to restrain hers. Few wizards her age could resist, yet William seemed completely unaffected.
"A wizard with Veela blood has an advantage in their magical journey," Dumbledore commented with a smile, making no mention of the Calming Draught.
"So, the boy truly caught a Death Eater on his own?" Madame Maxime raised an eyebrow.
"Without a doubt."
Madame Maxime seemed thoughtful. "Has Karkaroff reached out to you?"
"Yes, he said something came up and he couldn't make it to the ceremony," Dumbledore replied with a hint of regret.
"Coward," Maxime scoffed. "He's just frightened by the idea of a Death Eater showing up at Hogwarts."
Dumbledore merely smiled, choosing not to respond to the subtle jab—one that had insulted both of them in a single sentence. Maxime was certainly a woman with little restraint in her words.
"Well, I'll be going. Perhaps we'll talk again later," she said, gesturing to Fleur to come over.
Dumbledore nodded politely.
"I have to go. Madame Maxime is calling me," Fleur said, shaking her waterfall of silver hair.
"Oh, of course," William replied in French with his strong London accent, which sounded both earnest and rather amusing.
Fleur couldn't help but laugh, her eyes sparkling. "You'll need to practice more French!"
"My mother's already hired a tutor who spent two years in France," William grinned. "But I'm sure she's not as good as you."
"Hmm, I'd bet on that," Fleur said proudly, hands clasped behind her as she took a few steps away. Then, she suddenly turned back to him. "Could you give me your address? I might need it to send you letters… to help with your French, of course."
She rummaged through her pockets. "Write it on my robe, then. Oh, I didn't bring a pen either."
William blinked, then broke into a bright smile. "Easy fix."
He stepped closer, catching a soft floral scent as he gently plucked two silvery strands from her robe.
With a flick of his wand, he transformed one strand into a piece of parchment embossed with the Hogwarts crest and the other into a sleek golden quill.
Fleur gasped, covering her mouth in astonishment, while Madame Maxime's eyes glinted with approval.
Such mastery of Transfiguration wasn't expected from a first-year student; Fleur herself couldn't have performed it so effortlessly.
William wrote his address in elegant script and handed it to her with a smile.
"Goodbye, Fleur."
"Goodbye!"
As they parted ways, Dumbledore chuckled. "Was it Nicholas who suggested you learn French?"
"Yes, sir," William nodded, laughing. "Mr. Flamel also suggested I consider a student exchange with Beauxbatons."
During the summer, he had corresponded with the old man from Devonshire, who offered all sorts of advice, including sending William some of his earlier notes—most of which were, naturally, in French.
Since Nicholas Flamel was French, William had needed to pick up the language. Luckily, Leanna had many professor friends and found a tutor who could help him.
Still, what tutor could compare to Fleur Delacour? The difference was night and day!
"Nicholas suggested the same thing to me," Dumbledore said, a faraway look in his eyes.
"Did you go?"
Dumbledore's expression grew somber. "No, I couldn't. I had family matters at home that needed my attention."
William wanted to ask more, but Dumbledore's demeanor signaled that the topic was closed. Instead, the headmaster introduced him to two elder wizards nearby.
One was Griselda Marchbanks, and the other was Tiberius Ogden, both long-standing and highly respected Wizengamot members—a good start for expanding connections.
By the time William returned to his seat, the banquet had been underway for quite some time. The house elves had clearly outdone themselves; an array of dishes from various countries adorned the table.
William casually grabbed a slice of bacon. He was starving.
"William!" Annie sidled up to him, as if she had something to share. Her nose twitched as she sniffed his hand like a curious cat. "You have a strange scent on your hands!"
"Really?" William raised an innocent eyebrow. "Must be from Dumbledore. He was wearing an awful lot of strong cologne. Nearly made me sneeze—tch, tch, tch!"
Hermione and Annie exchanged a glance, their eyes narrowing suspiciously.
"Did you two get those chocolate coins?" William turned to the twins.
"Of course!" Fred replied enthusiastically. "The three of us snuck into the kitchen and got loads of them. All made fresh by the house-elves!"
George added happily, "I already have the ads written up. These chocolate coins are bound to be a hit."
"Perfect!"
The banquet wrapped up by dusk. Instead of heading home immediately, William accompanied Hermione's family to the Leaky Cauldron to visit Diagon Alley.
William needed to replenish his potions supplies and buy a new cauldron. Hermione, meanwhile, was finally going to buy a pet.
During her last trip, Professor McGonagall had only taken her to purchase books and essential school items, but she hadn't bought her a pet.
William also needed to deposit his 2,000 Galleons at Gringotts—his first sizeable sum. To do so, he would open his own private vault.
The hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley was even livelier in the evening, but they made a beeline for Gringotts.
The grand, white building towered above the surrounding shops. By the shining bronze doors stood a goblin, clad in a scarlet and gold-embroidered uniform.
William was hopeless at distinguishing goblins. He wasn't sure if this was the same one from his first visit, as every goblin looked identical to him.
Hermione examined the bank's exterior with wonder, this being only her second visit. She still found the place intriguing. After all, it was touted as "the safest place in the wizarding world."
Never once had anyone managed to break into its underground vaults.
join my patreon for 80+ advanced chapters: patreon.com/HyppoTL
[tl/n: a blatant foreshadow if i've ever seen one. Have a great day/night!]