Adele stepped out onto the porch, gripping the handle of her small suitcase tighter — it was all that remained of her past life. She stopped and took a deep, shuddering breath, as if afraid there wouldn't be enough air. Victor followed her out, quietly closing the door of the house where no one remembered them anymore.
— Well now, how do you like the scent of freedom? — he asked, looking at the sunny streets of Paris. — Like it? I understand... I once stood just like that myself. It's the best smell in the world, isn't it?
Adele only nodded in silence.
— Where to next?
Victor looked around stealthily, making sure the street was empty and there were no accidental witnesses.
— I wanted to entrust you to Maxime, but I've changed my mind. I think you'll stay with me for now. — He held out his hand to her and smiled. — Come with me.
Adele nodded and trustingly placed her small palm in his hand. And in that same second, the world around her went mad. Her breath hitched, her body felt as if it were being shoved through a narrow rubber tube, and her insides were spun in a frantic centrifuge.
When the torture ended, they were in a quiet, cozy courtyard. Adele immediately collapsed onto all fours, gasping for air, while colorful spots danced before her eyes.
Victor, not even swaying, smirked cheerfully:
— Happy first apparition, Adele! Unforgettable, isn't it?
She looked up at him with a gaze full of hatred. Getting to her shaky feet and smoothing her crumpled dress, she hissed:
— Never. Do. That. Again.
— Ha-ha, come on! At least it was fast, — he continued to chuckle until a soft female voice interrupted his fun.
— Victor, perhaps you should introduce us to our guest after all?
The Flamels stepped out from the doorway. Perenelle smiled softly, while Nicolas squinted, eyeing the girl.
— Adele, meet them, — Victor waved a hand toward the hosts. — This is Mrs. Perenelle Flamel, a very good woman, and her husband, a thief and a rogue — Mr. Nicolas Flamel.
Nicolas's eye twitched noticeably.
— A thief? — the girl asked.
— And how! — Victor nodded with the utmost seriousness. — He steals ideas from young, capable, handsome, and extremely naive geniuses. Like me.
Perenelle shook her head with a sigh and approached the girl, placing a hand gently on her shoulder.
— Don't listen to him, dear. Victor likes to exaggerate everything.
Adele looked intently at Perenelle, then at Nicolas, who was still trying to calm his twitching eye, and finally, back at Victor.
— He is a fool, — she stated in a quiet but absolutely certain tone.
Nicolas grunted in amusement, and Perenelle barely stifled a laugh. Victor froze — he felt as if an invisible dagger had pierced his heart.
— Hey! What's with this female solidarity? — he protested. — Why did you betray me so fast? We were just a team against the whole world! And besides, didn't your God say something like "do not call names" and "love thy neighbor"?
But Adele didn't even look his way, demonstratively turning away.
Perenelle, wasting no time on unnecessary questions, sat everyone down at a table already groaning under the weight of fresh pastries and fragrant tea.
— So, if I understand correctly, you simply kidnapped her, — Flamel said calmly, stirring his cup with a spoon.
Victor took a pointed sip of tea, looking off to the side and completely ignoring the old man. Perenelle smiled softly and covered Victor's hand with her own.
— Victor, not in front of guests. Show some respect.
Victor sighed heavily and reluctantly shifted his gaze to Nicolas:
— I didn't kidnap her, I liberated her. Think of me as a noble knight who rescued a princess from imprisonment in a high tower.
— Sounds more like a dragon dragging princesses to his cave, — Nicolas countered.
— At least I didn't stoop to stealing someone else's blueprints!
— I didn't steal your work! I magnanimously helped you finish it. The sword turned out perfect; I don't understand why you're still whining.
— Enough bickering! — Perenelle raised her voice slightly, and both mages immediately fell silent. — If you've forgotten, we have a guest.
Adele, who had been watching their spat with bated breath, suddenly grew shy under their collective gaze.
— Don't trouble yourself, Adele, — Victor interrupted her. — They already know everything about you anyway. Even your favorite dish.
The girl nodded obediently and buried her face in her cup, trying to appear as inconspicuous as possible.
— Alright, — Perenelle addressed her again. — For now, you will live with us. Today I will write to Madame Maxime and settle everything, and tomorrow we'll go shopping to get you ready for school.
— I... I'm going to go to school? — Adele's eyebrows shot up in surprise.
Perenelle frowned and looked at Victor. He only shrugged innocently:
— Well, I haven't had time to explain all the technical details yet.
— Yes, Adele, you will enter school, — Perenelle continued gently. — But not a regular one, but Beauxbatons. It's a school of magic where they will teach you to control your gift.
— But I have no money... — Adele lowered her eyes guiltily.
— Don't worry about that, — Perenelle waved it off. — Leave all the expenses to me. Consider it a grant for young talents.
— Then... sorry for the trouble, — the girl replied quietly.
— Ha-ha, it's nothing! It's only a joy for us. By the way, Misi!
With a soft pop, a house-elf appeared.
— Prepare the room next to Victor's for our guest, — Perenelle commanded.
Seeing the creature with huge eyes, Adele nearly dropped her cup.
— That's a house-elf, — Victor explained. — Their race has served wizards for centuries. By the way, Mrs. Perenelle, I'll join you tomorrow. France is famous for its fashion; what if that extends to the magical world too? I could use a wardrobe update.
Late that evening, Perenelle looked into Victor's room. He was sitting on the windowsill, hugging his knees, motionlessly staring at the stars over the rooftops of Paris.
— Why aren't you in bed? — she asked softly.
— Can't sleep, — Victor replied without turning around.
— Still sulking about Nick?
Victor sighed heavily:
— No. He really did make a great sword. I definitely couldn't have pulled that off right now... Just, I beg you, don't tell him that. Otherwise, his ego will finally stop fitting in this house.
Perenelle laughed quietly and sat on the edge of the bed. Victor climbed down from the windowsill, lay down beside her, and pressed his head to her shoulder.
— You're not joking, not being snarky, and you even praised my husband, — she touched his hair affectionately. — Tell me, what happened?
Victor was silent for a long time, and then spoke in a low voice:
— Let's just say... today I did things I already regret. — And he began to tell her how he had burst into Adele's house, nearly killing her father.
Perenelle nodded understandingly.
— You jumped to conclusions. And that's normal. You know, when Albus asked us to take you in, I was categorically against it. He described you... let's say, not in the most glowing terms.
— And you were right to be, — Victor smirked. — I wouldn't want a psychopathic child with a penchant for violence living in my house either.
— Ha-ha, I must admit, I thought so. But Nick couldn't refuse an old friend. And I ordered Misi to report every step you took, every move you made, even the most harmless one.
— But you turned out to be nothing like I imagined, — Perenelle continued. — Perhaps there really is a darkness in you that I haven't seen yet, but what I see is just a strong child who was treated unfairly. And if Dumbledore is right, then both darkness and light live within you, complementing each other.
— Like Yin and Yang? — Victor looked up at her.
— Yes, — she kissed the top of his head. — It's just that because of your power, those sides are much more dangerous than in others, but basically, you are no different from anyone else.
Victor pouted.
— Not true. I'm special, — he grumbled.
— Of course you're special, — Perenelle smiled softly. — But I'm talking about something else. I'm talking about the fact that you are human. And it is human to make mistakes.
Victor smirked:
— Was what I did this summer a mistake too?
— No, — she shook her head. — The mistake was what you did today, giving in to your emotions. But killing the Death Eaters — that was a choice. Not the brightest and certainly not the easiest, but the path you chose.
Victor pulled away sharply and stared at her, his eyes wide with amazement.
— What, surprised? — Perenelle laughed softly. — You underestimate this "old lady" too much, Victor. In our long life, the Flamel family has had so many enemies that you could pave the road to Beauxbatons with their bones. And what, you think Nicolas dealt with all of them? While my husband tinkered in the lab with his trinkets, I protected our home. And believe me, I resorted to measures that your saintly Headmaster certainly wouldn't approve of.
She pulled him close again.
— Listen to me. People are divided into the strong and the weak. You are one of the strong. You shouldn't eat yourself up over mistakes. There will be many more of them in your life. The main thing is not to be stupid and to learn from them.
— You're right, — he finally exhaled.
— Of course I'm right. But about what exactly?
— I damn well underestimated you, — Victor admitted honestly.
Suddenly, there was a soft knock at his door. Adele's disheveled head appeared in the doorway.
— Adele? Did something happen? — Victor inquired.
The girl didn't answer. She silently slipped into the room, climbed onto his bed, and dove under the blanket.
— And what is all this supposed to mean? — Victor was taken aback.
— I don't want to sleep alone.
Perenelle rose from the bed.
— Well, it seems you'll have to make some room. Go to sleep, we have a very long day ahead of us tomorrow.
— Wait, Mrs. Perenelle, — Victor called out. — I erased her parents' memories, but there are still neighbors, relatives, friends... the mailman, for heaven's sake.
Perenelle turned back, her eyes glinting with cold silver in the dim light of the hallway.
— You needn't worry. No one remembers the girl anymore. Her name has vanished from every document and from every Muggle head.
— That fast? — Victor didn't hide his astonishment.
— Ha-ha! You're in France, kid, — she winked at him playfully. — And this is my territory.
The door closed quietly. Victor froze in awe.
— "My territory"... — he whispered, his eyes flashing. — One day I'll say that too. About England. No, about all of Europe.
— What are you talking about? — Adele asked.
Victor shook his head and crawled under the blanket beside her.
— Nothing, just thinking out loud. Listen, if you're going to sleep here, we have one single rule. No touching me. No matter how much you want to, try to keep yourself in check.
Adele only blinked in silence, not quite knowing how to react.
Meanwhile, somewhere in Knockturn Alley, in its most foul-smelling part, entirely different shadows were gathering.
Ben sat in the tall, dry grass, his eyes fixed on the lopsided shack. This was where Oscar had been hiding for the last two weeks — the only surviving Death Eater from the gang Victor had sentenced to death.
The night silence was suddenly broken by the creak of rotting boards. Oscar stepped onto the porch. Tilting his head back, he cast a glance at the moon and, with a soft smile, leisurely wandered off somewhere. Ben slipped after him like a silent shadow.
A couple of hours later, Oscar reached a wasteland where several figures in dark cloaks were already waiting for him.
— Brother, you've finally come! We were starting to get nervous, — one of the figures approached and patted Oscar on the shoulder. — I told you he wouldn't let us down.