Chapter 247: The New Fountain of Beauty
The disassembled fountain hung suspended, its hundreds of pieces connected by a precise web of magical threads. The initial blaze of light had settled into something steadier and softer, casting the surrounding area in clear, even illumination.
In the face of Fleur's shriek, Leonardo kept his wand moving, making fine adjustments to the fountain's components, and said calmly:
"Don't worry. It can be put back together."
She looked perfectly composed most of the time, so that shriek had come out of nowhere — sharp enough to sting his eardrums.
Though now that he thought about it, Veelas in their enraged bird-headed form were said to produce cries that could stop a person cold, comparable in effect to a mature Mandrake. Perhaps it was an inherited racial trait.
After a brief pause, he added,
"I discussed this with Madame Maxime beforehand."
That single sentence did more than any explanation could. The tension in Fleur's face eased almost immediately.
At Beauxbatons, Madame Maxime's authority was absolute. Her permission was the final word. If the Headmistress had known and approved of it, then whatever this looked like on the surface, it had a legitimate purpose.
With that settled, Fleur's curiosity took over entirely, her eyes following Leonardo's every movement.
A tap of his wand, and the hovering containers opened in unison.
The first materials to emerge, Fleur could identify without difficulty: softly glowing moonstone powder, concentrated essence of Beauxbelle rose, threads of dragon-gold finer than hair but extraordinarily strong. All of them were classic alchemical materials.
But the containers seemed to have no bottom. More and more items kept emerging, in greater and greater variety.
Before long, Fleur's ability to keep up started to falter. Some things she had only ever seen as vague illustrations in reference texts — a ground paste made from mother-of-pearl mermaid scales, for instance.
By the last few materials, she had given up entirely.
A slowly drifting substance of liquid shadow. Several peculiar seeds, tiny clouds visibly rotating within them. A small vial of gas that cycled continuously through different colours.
She stared at them with wide eyes and no names for any of it.
When the containers finally stopped producing, Fleur asked with a mixture of uncertainty and anticipation:
"Leonardo — are you making modifications to the fountain?"
He gave a confirming nod, and the excitement that lit up her eyes was immediate.
"Did Mr Flamel ask you to—"
The Fountain of Beauty was Nicolas Flamel's work, and Leonardo was his direct student. It was natural to assume that Nicolas had taught Leonardo the alchemical principles behind it — and the thought of witnessing those techniques firsthand filled her with delight.
In the French wizarding world, Nicolas Flamel's name was a legend six hundred years in the making.
But then Fleur hesitated. If Leonardo was about to employ techniques passed down in secret, was it appropriate for her to stand here and watch? Should she step away?
Then again, she couldn't even identify half the materials. No one could accuse her of stealing anything she couldn't recognise.
"Should I — leave for now?"
Leonardo was rapidly taking stock of the floating materials when he caught the uncertain note in Fleur's voice. He glanced sideways at her.
She was looking somewhere vaguely past him, fingers twisting at the hem of her robe without seeming to notice, and the soft silver glow around her was flickering — like a faulty connection.
The light around a Veela seemed to shift with her mood. That held for part-Veelas too, apparently.
He looked back at the spread of alchemical materials and suspended fountain components, and had a fair sense of what was going through her mind. His hands kept moving.
"No need. You're welcome to stay. And if you have questions, you can ask them."
Fleur: "Mm — sorry?"
She hadn't expected such a straightforward answer and took a moment to process it.
Leonardo's wand tapped in quick succession, and several time-sensitive materials flew to their designated positions and began the initial stages of smelting and fusion.
"My teacher told me that the knowledge and techniques he passed on to me — if someone wants to learn them and is capable of learning them, there's nothing wrong with passing them on." He said it matter-of-factly, as though it were the most unremarkable thing in the world.
At Nicolas Flamel's level, questions of sectarian secrecy no longer held much weight. He was glad to see his knowledge carried forward.
Nicolas had also spoken to Leonardo with some seriousness on the point: Alchemy was a profound and dangerous discipline, and teaching it required careful consideration of the student's aptitude, ability, and character.
His assessment of Fleur had been: excellent alchemical aptitude; temperament fine on the whole, aside from a touch of pride.
The implication was clear enough. If Leonardo were willing to guide her, she was a promising student.
Fleur understood perfectly well who the "teacher" referred to. Those vivid blue eyes widened slightly, filled with disbelief and something that felt rather close to being unexpectedly moved.
She hadn't yet gathered her thoughts when Leonardo moved on to the next step.
A sweep of the wrist. Vast, refined magical power surged outward, forming into countless finer threads of control and clusters of glowing runes, flowing with precision into each suspended component and material.
At the same moment, the water, fire, and earth elemental inscriptions on the fingers of his wand hand lit up together, all three shining at once.
In that instant, every element contained within the fountain's components and materials — and every trace of free-floating elemental energy in the surrounding air — came alive all at once, as though roused by a signal, and moved into place under Leonardo's direction in perfect order.
Fleur felt that strange resonance again, stronger and clearer than before — warm, pulling, impossible to name.
Under the combined force of vast magical power and activated elemental energy, the diverse materials began to change. Some fused together, forging new components. Some dissolved into streams of light that etched complex magical inscriptions deep into the fountain's interior. Others directly replaced certain original sections of the structure entirely.
A comprehensive, methodical overhaul of the Fountain of Beauty was underway.
What Leonardo was demonstrating was not merely magical power that defied ordinary limits — it was an intimacy with multiple base elements, a command so fluid and instinctive it seemed like a natural extension of his own body.
The scene was unlike anything Fleur had ever witnessed. She, who considered herself reasonably well acquainted with the extraordinary, forgot entirely how to form a question.
She was completely absorbed by it — a living work of art wrought from magic, element, and transformation.
Slowly, the radiance drew inward and settled.
The hundreds of suspended pieces followed the pull of the magical threads back into place, joining and fusing with seamless precision.
The familiar, elegant Fountain of Beauty took shape once more beneath the night sky, restored and whole, resting quietly where it had always stood.
The sound of water returned. Clear water flowed along the newly worked basin walls, where magical inscriptions glimmered faintly beneath the surface, and in the moonlight the ripples carried a lustre that seemed more alive and dreamlike than before.
The moment the water began to flow again—
[Ding! Fountain of Beauty improvement complete!]