Cheek Pinching Is Apparently Universal
Perenelle Flamel had a habit of smiling mysteriously before doing something dangerous.
This time, the danger was social.
"Come," she said cheerfully, linking her arm with Lucien's. "I want you to meet an old friend."
Lucien had learned not to question this.
They arrived at a beautiful home tucked neatly into one of Paris's quieter magical districts.
The door opened almost immediately.
Inside stood three women.
One was clearly older—graceful, elegant, and sharp-eyed.
One looked about fifteen, tall and striking.
The last was small, barely six, peeking curiously from behind the older girl.
"Apolline," Perenelle said warmly. "It's been too long."
"Apolline Delacour," the woman replied with a bright smile—then her gaze dropped to Lucien.
Her eyes lit up.
"Oh my goodness," Apolline said.
Lucien had exactly zero seconds to react before—
Pinch.
Both cheeks.
Firmly.
"Oh, he's adorable!" Apolline declared.
Lucien froze.
"…This is happening again," he muttered.
Perenelle burst out laughing.
"I did the same thing the first time I met him."
Apolline gasped.
"You too? Excellent taste."
Lucien endured it with dignity.
Mostly.
The Delacour Girls
The two younger girls stared openly.
The fifteen-year-old—Fleur Delacour—was visibly blushing, silver-blue eyes wide.
The little one—Gabrielle—hid behind her sister, peeking out shyly.
"…He's very handsome," Fleur whispered, absolutely failing to whisper.
Lucien smiled politely.
Gabrielle squeaked and hid again.
The Name That Changed the Room
Lucien bowed slightly.
"My name is Lucien Aurelius Peverell Lionhardt."
Silence.
Apolline's smile froze.
Fleur's eyes widened.
"…Lionhardt?" Apolline repeated slowly.
Lucien nodded.
"And… Peverell?" Fleur added, almost reverently.
Lucien nodded again.
Apolline stared at him like she'd just discovered a national treasure sitting in her living room.
"The Lionhardt family," she said carefully, "the muggle dynasty founded by Edmund Lionhardt?"
Lucien inclined his head.
"He was my adoptive father."
Apolline studied him closely.
"…And the Peverell name," she continued, "the legends of the Deathly Hallows."
Lucien smiled faintly.
"Yes."
Apolline exhaled slowly.
"And Edmund Lionhardt… who was he to you?"
Lucien answered without hesitation.
"He was my father," he said simply. "A great man."
Apolline nodded at once.
"I see."
She looked at Perenelle.
"You always bring the most dangerous guests."
Perenelle laughed.
Aftermath
Fleur was still red.
Gabrielle tugged at Perenelle's sleeve.
"…Is he a prince?"
Lucien blinked.
"…Not officially."
Gabrielle nodded solemnly.
"Okay."
Apolline smiled warmly, finally releasing Lucien's cheeks.
"You're welcome here anytime," she said. "But next time, bring warning."
Lucien smiled.
"I'll try."
Though, based on experience—
He doubted it would help.