Goodbyes, Teasing Death, and Paris (Again)
Lucien sealed the last letter with a neat flick of his wand.
To: Narcissa Black
I will meet you in two weeks.
Do not be late.
Short.
Polite.
Firm.
Lucien nodded in satisfaction.
"That should prevent drama," he muttered.
Death laughed behind him.
"Oh, darling," Bayonetta said lazily, leaning against the doorway, "you attract drama like kisses attract witnesses."
Lucien froze.
"…You were counting?"
She smirked.
"Cho. Katie. Clara. Angelina. Multiple hugs. Several blushes."
Lucien rubbed his temples.
"I was being polite."
"You were being adorable," Death corrected. "There's a difference."
He chose not to argue.
Instructions Before Chaos
Lucien gathered everyone in the main lounge.
Grayfia.
Sylpha.
Gamma.
Velgrynd.
Yasaka.
Akeno.
Venelana.
Claire.
Penelope.
Nagini.
Seraphina.
And Death—because she refused to leave.
Lucien cleared his throat.
"If my brother Harry comes here while I'm gone," he said calmly, "send him a letter. Immediately."
Everyone nodded.
"No scaring him," Yasaka added gently.
Akeno smiled.
"Only mild teasing."
Venelana stepped closer, adjusting his collar.
"Come back safely."
Claire crossed her arms.
"Don't get adopted again."
Lucien smiled faintly.
"I'll be gone two weeks."
Death leaned in and kissed his cheek.
"I'll watch."
That… was not reassuring.
The Lionhardt Private Jet
The private jet waited on the runway, sleek and unmistakably expensive.
Lucien boarded without ceremony.
Akeno waved dramatically from the steps.
Penelope bowed politely.
Seraphina waved shyly.
As the jet lifted into the sky, Lucien leaned back and closed his eyes.
France.
Again.
Paris – Home Away From Home
Paris welcomed Lucien warmly.
Mostly because Nicolas Flamel had already warned the city.
The door to the Flamel residence opened before Lucien could knock.
"Lucien!" Perenelle exclaimed, hugging him immediately.
"You're too thin."
Nicolas nodded.
"They don't feed you properly."
Lucien smiled.
"I eat fine."
They ignored him.
Tea was served.
Food appeared.
Stories followed.
They listened to him like proud grandparents.
His business.
His studies.
His… complicated love life.
Nicolas chuckled.
"You always were popular."
Lucien sighed.
"It's exhausting."
Perenelle patted his hand.
"You're happy."
Lucien paused.
"…Yes."
They smiled knowingly.
Old Magic, Quiet Moments
Later that night, Lucien stood on the balcony, Paris glowing below.
Death appeared beside him.
"You always come here when you need to breathe," she said softly.
Lucien nodded.
"They make things simple."
She leaned her head on his shoulder.
"You're doing well," she said. "Even when you don't think you are."
Lucien allowed himself a rare moment of stillness.
Two weeks in Paris.
No Knockturn Alley.
No dates.
No chaos.
…Probably.
He exhaled.
For now—
This was enough.