The Fountain of Fair Fortune sat quietly back in its original spot, and a soft chi echoed in Lucien's mind:
[Ding! Upgrade to the Fountain of Fair Fortune complete!]
Lucien let out a slow breath. The loan for those advanced earth-elent runes was finally paid off.
This upgrade had gone a lot smoother than he'd expected.
For one thing, Nicolas Flal—his teacher—had given him detailed notes on the fountain's original alchemical principles, saving him weeks of reverse-engineering and trial-and-error.
For another, having mastered advanced water, fire, and earth runes had supercharged his alchemy. Those runes massively boosted his affinity and control over the basic elents, and elent manipulation was the backbone of the entire alchemical system.
Off to the side, Fleur was finally snapping out of the stunned silence she'd fallen into while watching the whole process.
Her gaze moved from the shimring, multicolored water to Lucien's calm profile, her expression a tangled mix of emotions.
Deep down, Fleur was proud—and with good reason. She had undeniable talent, jaw-dropping beauty, and had spent her life surrounded by admiration and praise.
Her first seventeen years had been pretty much smooth sailing. The biggest disappointnt she'd ever faced was probably last sumr, when she visited Nicolas Flal and didn't get chosen as his apprentice.
She'd "t" Lucien then, if only for a fleeting glance, but those rare erald-green eyes had stuck with her. Ever since, a quiet competitive spark had flickered in the back of her mind.
She'd been looking forward to the Triwizard Tournant's alchemy challenge as her chance to finally see what the "Flal apprentice" could really do—maybe even go head-to-head and prove she was every bit as good.
But now, before the tournant had even started, she'd seen the chasm between them with her own eyes. It felt like a canyon.
Swallowing the storm of feelings inside her, she stepped closer and fixed her eyes on the fountain, which looked exactly the sa as always. She kept her voice light, like they were just chatting about the weather.
"Lucien, the Fountain of Fair Fortune… it doesn't look any different?"
She was right. The winding channels, the smooth stone walls, the central statue of a loving couple embracing—everything on the surface was unchanged.
The real changes ran deeper, in the water itself.
"I kept the appearance the sa on purpose," Lucien said, making a few final tweaks with his wand. His tone was relaxed, like he was explaining a simple howork problem. "But the essence of the water has been adjusted."
He went on to give her the short version of the alchemy behind it.
The original fountain mainly cleansed and lightly nourished the skin. You'd need to use it regularly for months to see even minor results.
Now, though, the temporary "beautifying" effect had been turned into a gentle, ongoing improvent.
As people grow, little things—habits, environnt, even the way they smile or speak—can slowly shift their appearance, and those shifts are almost always in the less-flattering direction.
The upgraded fountain water would gradually guide the user's features and skin toward the very best version their natural genetics allowed. It would nudge everything gently into place over ti.
It combined advanced alchemy, potion theory, and—Lucien's personal specialty—transfiguration principles.
Of course, there was a limit. It could only take soone to their own theoretical peak. It wasn't going to turn everyone into a supermodel.
Fleur listened intently, her blue eyes sparkling with genuine interest. She was clearly tempted.
"That sounds amazing. Mind if I test it out?"
Lucien glanced at her face—naturally, without thinking—and shook his head with a small smile.
"For you? This fountain would pretty much just act like a regular mirror."
Fleur blinked, then the corner of her mouth curved up in understanding. Her eyes narrowed playfully.
"You really do fit that classic British gentleman stereotype—complints so subtle they almost sneak past you."
Well, that was probably the difference between French and British styles, Lucien thought. Though personally, he just preferred a little understatent—he'd picked that up from so old wizarding texts he loved.
Still, he kept a polite smile and nodded. "Maybe. Sotis the quiet kind of complint lingers longer."
"Oh?" Fleur arched an eyebrow and leaned in just a touch, her silver-blonde hair catching the light. "So you're saying what I told you earlier today up in the mountains was… too direct?"
Lucien imdiately rembered the mont. Up on the ridge, Fleur had looked straight at him and said—in the lilting Veela tongue—"Your eyes are clearer and more beautiful than lake water on a sumr day."
Good thing he was used to the occasional over-the-top praise, or he might've actually blushed.
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