In the covered walkway beside the Beauty Fountain, Lucien stood with one hand casually tucked into his robe pocket, quietly sensing the emotional energy being drawn from the young witches by the multicolored crystal sphere.
The emotional auras radiating from the girls gathered here were far richer and more intense than anything the boys ever produced—anticipation, delight, subtle competitiveness, hope for their own appearance, and the giddy excitement of sharing little secrets with friends…
There was a wider range of emotions, and each one burned brighter.
Sure enough, whether in the wizarding world or the Muggle one, women tended to show stronger consumer enthusiasm and emotional engagement.
Lucien thought of the sales reports from Diagon Alley's "Seventh Workshop," as well as the updates he'd received from the Weasley twins. Female customers consistently contributed the largest share of revenue.
If he could roll out a line of targeted beauty potions or skincare-focused alchemical trinkets at Beauxbatons, he could probably break into the market very quickly.
That thought, however, passed just as quickly as it came.
Lucien didn't have much time left at Beauxbatons, and his personal network here was practically nonexistent. The only person he could truly say he knew was Fleur.
And asking her to help sell products on his behalf was… unrealistic.
Leaving aside the fact that Beauxbatons' school culture and administration were stricter than Hogwarts', placing far more limits on student behavior—
Just based on what Lucien had observed over the past few days, there was also a subtle truth about Fleur herself: her social standing at Beauxbatons was, at best, average.
Among the boys, there was no shortage of admirers—but very few dared to actually approach her or speak to her as an equal. Most kept their distance, content to admire from afar.
Beauxbatons already had a higher proportion of girls, and within that group, the attention Fleur received was even more complicated. Genuine admiration for her talent and beauty certainly existed—but alongside it were faint traces of jealousy, and a sense of distance born from her unmistakable pride.
In truth, she didn't have many close friends.
Fleur herself was completely at ease with that. She'd told Lucien once that she disliked pointless socializing to begin with, and had never learned how to force herself to fit in just to please others.
"Being liked, or being disliked—both are perfectly normal," she'd said.
Lucien still remembered the way her refined chin had lifted slightly when she spoke, her eyes calm and unapologetic, as though that outlook were only natural.
And honestly, she wasn't wrong. With Fleur's abilities and temperament, she neither resembled—nor needed to be—the sort of person who blended effortlessly into every crowd.
Lucien didn't feel any regret about being unable to open a small branch at Beauxbatons, because a bolder, more straightforward plan had already taken shape in his mind—
Why not open a shop directly in the core commercial district of the French wizarding world?
Compared to that, opening another store in Diagon Alley was far more troublesome. Space there was absurdly expensive, and shopfronts were tightly controlled by old pure-blood families who had held them for generations.
But when it came to influence, resources, and connections within the French magical community… who could possibly rival his teacher, Nicolas Flamel?
When Lucien brought up the idea to Nicolas, the six-hundred-year-old alchemist didn't even raise an eyebrow. He simply waved a hand and said he still had several unused old shop properties in the Parisian wizarding quarter and along a few major commercial streets. Then he tossed Lucien the keys and told him to use whichever one he liked.
In fact, if Lucien hadn't firmly refused, Nicolas would have gone so far as to transfer ownership outright.
For a legendary figure who could literally turn lead into gold—and who had long since transcended worldly desires—such fixed assets were no more meaningful than pebbles by the roadside.
More importantly, the name Nicolas Flamel represented far more than wealth in the French wizarding world. It carried unmatched prestige, along with a vast, deeply entrenched web of relationships.
Six centuries of history were more than enough for that influence to seep into every corner of society.
Honestly, Lucien felt that starting out in France might be even smoother than doing so back in Britain…