Chapter 245: The Disassembled Fountain
Dusk deepened. The last trace of sunlight slipped behind the mountain ridge, and Beauxbatons' lights came on one by one.
The wind was sharp, and the paths through the school grounds were largely empty.
Only the cold-glowing magical lanterns and clusters of ice-crystal faeries trailing glittering tails gave shape to a night scene entirely unlike the school's daytime splendour — quieter, stiller, its own kind of beauty.
Fleur drew her gradually silvering hair around her and played the guide conscientiously, leading Leonardo through the grounds and pointing out the elegant buildings and gardens as they walked.
"Over here is the Giant's Garden." She gestured to one side.
Leonardo looked. The garden was genuinely astonishing.
Everything in it seemed designed for someone far larger than a human being.
At the centre of a vast marble fountain, a dolphin sculpture nearly the size of a small cottage leapt upward, sending curtains of water cascading down and catching the lamplight like flowing crystal. The flowers throughout the garden were as wide as dinner plates, and the air was thick with their sweetness, magnified several times over. Along the winding paths sat smooth boulders used as benches, each carved with elaborate stars and moons, large enough to seat five or six people side by side with room to spare.
On the day they had arrived, Madame Maxime had taken them along a single route rather than showing them the entire grounds. Since then, Leonardo had spent most of his time sitting in on classes, working through Beauxbatons' library, or retreating into the Trunk World to work on the magical mobile phone and the principles behind modifying the fountain.
He hadn't actually explored the school properly.
Beauxbatons seemed to have fountains and small gardens at every turn. Almost without noticing, they found themselves standing before the Fountain of Beauty once again.
Clear water caught the magical lamplight and scattered it in shimmering shards across the surface. At the centre, the statues of Nicolas and Perenelle stood quietly, the expressions on their faces unhurried and warm.
Fleur let out a soft laugh, her tone carrying both understanding and a hint of teasing.
"This one—I suppose you don't need me to introduce it?"
Leonardo nodded, his gaze sweeping quickly around the area.
Good. No one else around.
Right then. Engineering work—begin.
He drew his wand. Several containers of varying sizes and materials emerged from his pockets and floated into position along the fountain's edge.
Fleur blinked at the sudden flurry of movement, then a reasonable guess formed in her mind.
She tilted her head slightly. "Leonardo — did someone at Hogwarts ask you to bring back some of the water?"
"That's right." A brief answer, his attention already on the fountain.
Fleur had half a mind to point out that the fountain's water wasn't quite as miraculous as the stories made it sound. It was highly effective at cleansing and could gradually make skin smoother and clearer, but it wouldn't dramatically enhance a person's beauty.
Then again, she reminded herself that, as Nicolas Flamel's student, Leonardo almost certainly already knew that. He was probably just indulging his friends' requests.
She said nothing more and watched quietly.
Leonardo gave his wand a light flick. Hundreds of ancient runes shimmered from the tip, each glowing faintly, and moved in perfect formation toward every significant point of the fountain — the patterned walls, the bases of the statues, even the flowing streams of water — before slipping silently into place.
Then came the hum.
A deep resonance of magical power.
The entire fountain — from the basin floor to the tops of the statues — blazed with light, brilliant interlocking lines of power racing across every surface like illuminated circuitry.
The soft lamplight was swallowed entirely. The whole area was as bright as day.
And then — in the reflection of Fleur's suddenly widened eyes — the great fountain, which should by all rights have been firmly rooted in the earth, lifted smoothly, entirely, into the air.
The water continued to flow. If anything, it moved even more gracefully under the precise control of the magic, not a single drop spilling.
Crack. Crack-crack-crack.
A rapid series of sharp, clear sounds filled the air, like ice splitting or machinery coming apart piece by piece.
The hovering fountain, still glowing with its full outline suspended before her, split apart without the slightest warning.
It just — came apart.
Stone, metal, water, magical channels — all of it separated into hundreds upon hundreds of neat individual components, like an enormous, intricate three-dimensional puzzle disassembled in an instant. Every piece remained exactly where it was, suspended in delicate balance by the brilliant threads of flowing magic running between them.
Fleur's mind went blank for several seconds. The shock was so complete it briefly robbed her of her voice.
Then a cry of disbelief tore free from her throat — an octave higher than her normal register, ringing out with startling clarity in the quiet Beauxbatons night:
"You — you've taken apart the Fountain of Beauty?!"