Chapter 248: The Fountain of Beauty's New Properties
The Fountain of Beauty settled quietly back into place. The system chime rang through his mind:
[Ding! Fountain of Beauty improvement complete!]
Leonardo let out a slow breath. The Advanced Earth Elemental Inscription loan was repaid.
The modification had gone more smoothly than expected.
Part of that was thanks to the detailed guidance Nicolas had given him on the fountain's original alchemical principles. That alone had saved a great deal of time that would otherwise have been spent on analysis and trial and error. Beyond that, the Advanced Water, Fire, and Earth Elemental Inscriptions had provided an enormous boost. They had significantly strengthened his affinity for and control over the base elements, and elemental manipulation was the very foundation upon which all Alchemy rested.
Beside him, Fleur was only now beginning to surface from the shock of what she had witnessed.
Her gaze moved from the shimmering water to Leonardo's composed profile, and the expression in her eyes was difficult to read.
Fleur was, at her core, a proud person. That pride came from genuine talent, remarkable beauty, and a lifetime of admiration and astonishment from those around her. Her first seventeen or so years had been remarkably smooth — if there was one setback, one quiet regret, it was last summer's visit to Nicolas Flamel, when she had not become his student.
She had technically seen Leonardo that day, though only for a moment. Somehow, she had remembered those uncommon dark green eyes, and a vague, unformed sense of competition had taken root.
She had been looking forward to the Alchemy segment of the Triwizard Tournament — to seeing this "Nicolas's student" properly in action, measuring herself against him, proving she was in no way lesser.
But the competition hadn't even started, and she had already watched, with her own eyes, the gulf between them.
She pushed down the feelings rising in her, stepped closer, and let her gaze rest on the fountain, which looked entirely unchanged. When she spoke, her tone was light, conversational — a cover for the turmoil within.
"Leonardo — the fountain looks... more or less the same as before?"
It was true. The winding channels, the smooth stone walls, the statues of Nicolas and Perenelle at the centre — all of it looked exactly as it had before.
The real changes lay within the water itself.
"The appearance has been kept the same, but the nature of the water has been adjusted."
Leonardo made the final fine calibrations with his wand as he spoke, his tone as unhurried as if he were working through a problem set after class.
"Bathing in it now should produce something closer to the beautifying effects the outside world has always claimed it had..."
He then gave a brief explanation of the alchemical principles involved.
The original water had primarily served to cleanse and provide mild nourishment — with only modest effects, and only after prolonged use.
After the modification, that temporary enhancement would become a continuous, gradual process of improvement.
In truth, the way a person's appearance changes over the course of their life — shaped by habits, environment, even the way they habitually move their face when speaking or expressing emotion — tends to work in one direction. Toward worse, rather than better.
The improved fountain water would work slowly and steadily in the other direction, guiding the user's appearance and complexion toward the most ideal expression of their own inherited potential — a natural development, not an artificial transformation.
The method combined Alchemy, Potions, and the discipline Leonardo was most accomplished in: Transfiguration.
There was a ceiling to it, of course. The water could only take someone as far as their theoretical natural best. It wasn't going to turn everyone into a paragon of beauty.
Fleur listened with focused attention, clear interest in her eyes, and something close to eagerness.
"That sounds remarkable. Could I try the effect?"
Leonardo's gaze moved naturally to her face. He gave a small shake of his head.
"For you — I'm afraid the water would just be a mirror."
Fleur blinked, then the corner of her mouth curved with understanding, her blue eyes narrowing slightly.
"You really do fit the English gentleman stereotype, don't you? Even compliments have to be wrapped in that much indirection."
Ah. The age-old difference between the French and the English, apparently.
Leonardo privately thought it had more to do with his preference for a certain Eastern sensibility toward understatement, but he kept that to himself. Instead, he maintained an appropriate smile and inclined his head in acknowledgement.
"Perhaps. A well-wrapped compliment is sometimes more worth savouring."
"Oh?" Fleur raised an eyebrow and leaned forward slightly, silver hair catching the light as it shifted. "So you're saying what I said to you in the mountains this afternoon was too direct?"
Leonardo recalled the exchange. In the mountain range earlier that day, Fleur had spoken to him in the Veela language:
"Your eyes are clearer and more beautiful than still water."
He was accustomed to being complimented, fortunately — otherwise that might actually have been a little embarrassing.