"Have you gone absolutely insane?! What were you thinking, boy?!" The man demanded, holding the bandaged young man by his collar.
"I have… researched the past tournaments!" The bandaged boy's voice came in muffled and raspy bursts. "There was a case of reselection when a Champion was… unable to participate! I was… was going to get others to do it, discretely!"
"Putain de merde! Is this what you call 'discrete'?"
"I brought six people! … There was… no one around! He was a fourth year! How… was I supposed to fail?"
"Zut!" the man cursed, throwing him back as he began pacing around. "Why didn't you retreat when you failed? Why did you just let him take you all out?!"
"It's… difficult to explain! It always felt like… he would be down… any second! But when it all failed, I decided to end it once and for all with a powerful wave. But… he got me before I could retreat."
"Nonsense! You shouldn't have acted on your own!"
"You… wouldn't have agreed!"
"And rightfully so! Didn't you see?! Magical combat can escalate very quickly, especially when you're learning dark magic! Retreat? My ass! You were clearly unable to stop yourself! Wanted to try that powerful magic, didn't you? To see him in pain!"
"…. What… happens now? Can we get him arrested?"
The man slapped the boy right across his injured face.
"Connard! You wish! You've angered the Dumbledores! You're the one who's under arrest right now!"
The boy convulsed in agony.
"This is the worst failure since the Lab explosion. Luckily, there is still use for you yet."
"Can I… be acquitted?"
"You've gone way beyond that line. But be glad that your face is unrecognizable and 'the Lord' still has a use for you. I suppose no one will notice if we exchange you with another disfigured student."
….
In the Beauxbatons training room, Lucas checked the time in his connecting mirror. "It's almost time for the wand weighing ceremony," he said, turning to Fleur. But suddenly, his eyes widened.
Fleur sat cross legged on a mat - eyes closed in and her beautiful features marred with a frown of concentration.
And… Rings of flames swirled around her, burning with intense heat. Let it be made clear - Fleur was 'not' in her transformed avian form right now.
She slowly opened her eyes and let the flames dissipate.
Clap– Clap– Clap–
Lucas started applauding.
"You actually did it."
Fleur smiled. "This mental training method is… priceless. The earlier a veela controls her flames, the higher her ceiling."
"So, have you already mastered it?"
Fleur snorted. "It's not that simple. But I've gained enough mastery to use it in the first task without turning my robes into ashes."
"Well, that's a shame. I really enjoyed the view every time that happened." Now that Fleur had control over her fire and emotions, it seems that it is safe to tease her again.
Fleur threw a fireball straight at him, which Lucas had to duck. 'Apparently not.'
"Can't absorb that, can you?" Fleur mocked.
"No, but you shouldn't get cocky," said Lucas, jamming the tip of his wand into his other hand. "Incendio."
"Wait," Fleur raised her hand. "You'd burn yoursel-" she began, but paused when she saw no harm. Instead, a fireball appeared over his palm, which he threw back at her. Fleur caught the fireball, examining it before she extinguished it.
"How…?"
"Well, before leaving the wand, it was still magic, not Flames - hence absorbable."
Lucas had recently discovered this. He can't absorb flames, but he can absorb the magic in the wand that is supposed to create the flames.
"Wait… doesn't this mean you have full control over ALL spells now, including elemental magic?"
"Technically, yes - but only if I'm holding on to the tip of the caster's wand."
Lucas pressed his wand into his palm once again. "Incendio-Incendio-Incendio," He then pointed his wand at Fleur. This time, he shot a thin, compressed geyser of flames at her.
But Fleur closed her eyes, raising her palm. The column of flames actually 'curved' from its path, circling around her.
????
Lucas's jaw dropped. "What in the fire-bending hell?!"
Fleur smirked. "Bet you still can't do THIS."
"I… really can't." Lucas loses control over the magic as soon as it leaves his body, unless maybe the magic itself is 'connection type' - like the Patronus.
Fleur nodded in satisfaction, letting the fire fizzle out.
"So? Do you still hate Adeline? Lucas asked. "You mastered your fire control with the help of her mental training method after all."
The main requirement for a veela to master control over her fire is to master the control over her emotions. According to Fleur - if she simply transforms and goes berserk when using flames, she can never reach the full potential of her abilities.
And Adeline had shared her mental training method with Fleur when she had seen her trying to control her emotions when using her veela flames. And low and behold, it had made such a huge difference.
Fleur inclined her head. "While she's undoubtedly helpful, and I'm in her debt - her intentions are questionable. She's clearly trying to get close to you."
"Even if that was the case, what's the problem in that? It would only be beneficial to us, right?"
"Naive." Fleur didn't deign to dignify the question with a response, simply closing her eyes again.
Lucas went back to his training.
"Vastosectum!" He chanted, drawing a horizontal line with his wand. A wide arc formed in the air, hitting the wall with a loud "crack". When the dust cleared, a deep wide gash had been carved into the wall. But there were dozens more of such marks already carved around it.
This was one of the new spells he had recently added to his arsenal - a wide area powerful cutting hex.
But, for the challenge they were going to face, he hadn't Mastered this spell to the point of being useful in such a short time, nor was his magic overwhelmingly powerful to compensate for it.
That's why, this was just a substitute.
"Diffindo!"
Diffindo is also a cutting spell like vastosectum. But the most basic version of it. It creates a magical blade that is designed to sever things.
The problem with this spell is - the magical blade can injure him before getting absorbed.
But now that he found a way around it - this is not longer a problem. He just has to absorb it directly from the wand, before the formation of the blade.
Lucas touched his wand to his other palm.
"Diffindo-Diffindo-Diffindo."
He raised his wand and once again drew a line. But this time, since he had full control over the magic - he made the blade extra sharp and strong.
'Go!'
There was a sharp sound as the blade impacted the wall and the sound echoed through the room, catching Fleur's attention.
When the dust cleared, the arc was much wider and deeper.
"Not enough," Lucas muttered.
"Diffindo-Diffindo-Diffindo…. Depulso-Depulso."
This time, he also added Depulso - the opposite of the summoning charm. It pushed things away, similar to the Expulso that had caught him in the ribs.
Lucas closed his eyes and focused on the two different spell energies, slowly bringing them together. But the resultant magic turned unstable, no longer under his control.
He immediately flicked his wand in panic, releasing it before it could explode.
BANG
There was a loud sound as the room itself shook, and a cloud of dust was created. Fleur, who had just started to concentrate, shot to her feet, looking at the destruction.
When the dust cleared - a gaping hole appeared in their vision.
The opposite wall had been pierced so deep... that you could see the adjacent room from it.
"What kind of magic was that?"
Lucas grinned. "Bet your magic can't do THAT."
"Not 'yet'. Let's go, we'll be late for the wand weighing."
"Let me bandage my hand real quick. It's still supposed to not be fully cured."
After tidying their appearances, and their wands - the two of them left for the location.
The castle was full of students bustling about, heading for their next classes but when ever their gazes landed on Lucas, they paused - showing either awe or caution.
Gone were the mocking and envious glances he used to receive at the beginning.
Pictures of the victims had been taken and circulated throughout the castle, and articles were written, extensively covering the subject.
It made two things clear to everyone - Lucas Castillin was not to be messed with, and the Goblet might not have chosen wrongly after all.
"They look like they want to devour you," muttered Fleur, looking at a group of giggling girls, her lip curling his distaste.
"They're just curious."
Of course, no one except the higher authorities knew exactly what had transpired, which had only increased everyone's curiosity - Exactly how did Lucas do it?
….
As soon as Lucas entered, he was confronted by a gaudily dressed woman. She had elaborate curls, jeweled glasses, and a sharp, predatory smile.
"Lucas Castillin. I've been meaning to meet for a long time. You might have read my articles. Might I interest you in an interview?"
"Don't," said Fleur, looking at Skeeter cautious.
"Lucas," said Lily, who was standing next to Aurora. She also shook her head and Lucas took the advice by heart.
"My apologies, Miss Skeeter."
The classroom was small and crowded, the air thick with the scent of old parchment and the heavy perfume of Rita Skeeter. The six champions sat in a row of velvet-backed chairs, a striking study in contrasts.
In front of them sat Mr. Ollivander. It was Lucas's first time seeing him. The wizened old man with head full of white hair impatiently tapped his fingers on his leg, as if unable to weight to get their hands on their wands, his eyes wide and cloudy.
Aurora and Lily stood to the side, glancing at Lucas from time to time. At this moment, Mr. Crouch walked in briskly, taking off his hat.
"My apologies for the delay. Shall we start immediately?"
Aurora nodded.
"Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?" said Mr. Ollivander,
stepping into the empty space in the middle of the room.
Fleur Delacour swept over to Mr. Ollivander and handed him her wand.
"Hmm..." he said.
He twirled the wand between his long fingers like a baton and it emitted a number of pink and gold sparks. Then he held it close to his eyes and examined it carefully.
"Yes," he said quietly, "nine and a half inches. . . inflexible.. rosewood… and
containing… dear me..."
"A hair from the head of a veela. My Grandmother's, to be exact."
"Yes," said Mr. Ollivander, "yes, I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands...however, to each his own, and if this suits you."
He checked the wand for an abnormality before nodding in satisfaction. "Very well, very well, it's in fine working order," said Mr. Ollivander, scooping up the flowers and handing them to Fleur with her wand.
"The next is - you - Mr. Castillin, right? Don't look surprised, I do read newspapers."
Lucas stepped forward, handing the old pervert his wand.
"Hm… blackthorn. Twelve and a quarter. Firm, with a slight spring. And… is that a… Thestral Tail Hair core?! Curious! How very curious!"
He looked at Lucas. "It's a core that can only be mastered by those who have faced death—and understood it. Mr. Castillin, you have surprised me."
"Is it really Thestral core, Mr. Ollivander? I thought it was only used in the elder wand." Lucas turned around and found Aiden Dumbledore's eyes fixed on him. This time he really seemed to be surprised.
"That was supposed to be the case, Mr. Dumbledore. I have tried making a few Thestral core wands myself, but they never did find their right masters."
Ollivander checked the wand closely, more with admiring eyes rather than trying to find fault. "The workmanship is masterful. No doubt, my old friend had the same thought as me when crafting this wand."
Lucas didn't say a word. Ollivander flicked the wand weakly. There was no light. There were no sparks. "As expected, I can't."
"Mr. Castillin, if you please." He returned the wand, almost reluctantly, back to Lucas, who cast a simple charm to show him.
"That should do it. Come along, Mr. Dumbledore. I haven't checked your Phoenix feather wand in a while."
'Phoenix Feather?' Lucas was surprised.
"Elder wood, the same as the Elder Wand. A difficult, temperamental wood that will only stay with a wizard of immense power and even greater destiny. 13 and a half inches, and extremely slightly springy, and that must be the runework from the headmistress herself… wonderful. I never could understand how she could integrate those into my wands."
The surprise wasn't over yet. After Aiden and Cedric, it was Durmstrang's turn.
"Rowan and Thunderbird feather," Ollivander whispered, Sigrid Skuldsson's wand humming in his hand. "This is my first time seeing a wand of this… craftsmanship. Brilliant… masterful."
"Eleven inches. A core of storm and a wood of protection. Volatile, Miss Skuldsson. Very volatile."
'Thunderbird?' Lucas could vaguely recall Cedric Diggory mentioning something about Sigrid knowing lightning magic. Lucas now really wanted to see this 'viking' magic.
Next, Malachor Lestrage held out his wand, the dark wood catching the light like a polished obsidian bone.
"Snakewood," Ollivander mumured. "Thirteen and three-quarter inches. A wood that was famously used by Salazar Slytherin himself. It is a wood for the elite, the rare, and the... demanding."
"And the core…" Ollivander paused, his hands already shaking.
"It's a basilisk tooth,"
Malachor replied coldly, yet the pride was apparent in his voice.
The atmosphere turned stagnant, everyone's eyes widening, the only sound coming from Rita Skeeter's quick-quotes quill which was scribbling furiously while its owner practically drooled while looking at Lestrage.
"It was gregorwitch, wasn't it?" Said Olivander in the silence. "Fourteen inches - rigid. Great wand. Yes, you're good to go." He returned the wand and Lucas keenly noted that Olivander didn't try to flick it.
'Fuck, is everyone's wand unique?'
....
2 Weeks Later.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! IT IS FINALLY TIME."
"FOR THE TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT!"
Loud cheers broke out. In the tent sat Lucas, along with the other 5 participants.
His wand thrummed with power, begging to show its might.
It is indeed, the time.
But at this moment, the reporters burst into the tent - many of them. Some of them, with 'French Press' badges at their chests came straight for Lucas.
...
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