Departure for France
The week following Ezekiel's ascension as Lord Ravenclaw was filled with final preparations. His father had arranged everything—his visit to France, the formal meeting with Lord Delacour, and the continuation of his magical training under new tutors who recognized his title.
Ezekiel knew this trip wasn't just about Fleur; it was about expanding his influence and strengthening alliances.
The morning of his departure, he stood in front of Malverne Manor, dressed in elegant dark blue robes befitting his new status. His mother, Marissa, adjusted his cloak with practiced ease, her sharp blue eyes scanning him critically.
"You're growing too quickly," she sighed.
Ezekiel smirked. "You say that as if I have a choice."
"You don't," she admitted, but there was pride in her voice. "Just remember—while you are in France, you are a Malverne, a Ravenclaw, and my son. Carry yourself accordingly."
He nodded. "I will, Mother."
Celes, who had been clinging to his sleeve, pouted. "Do you have to go?"
Ezekiel ruffled her hair. "I'll be back soon. I'll bring you something sweet, alright?"
Her eyes brightened. "Promise?"
"Promise."
Alys crossed her arms. "Try not to make Fleur fall completely in love with you while you're there."
Ezekiel raised a brow. "Who says she isn't already?"
Alys scoffed. "Arrogant as ever."
Their father arrived, signaling it was time. Ezekiel stepped toward the portkey—a silver medallion engraved with the Delacour family crest.
His father clasped his shoulder. "Make use of this trip. Lord Delacour is an influential man, and this is an opportunity."
Ezekiel met his gaze. "I know."
With a final nod, he grasped the medallion. The familiar pull behind his navel yanked him forward, and in a blur of light, Malverne Manor vanished.
---
The moment Ezekiel's feet touched solid ground, he inhaled the crisp, refreshing air of the French countryside. He had arrived at the Delacour Estate—a breathtaking château surrounded by enchanted gardens that shimmered under the morning sun.
Waiting for him at the entrance were Lord Delacour and Fleur.
"Bienvenue, Lord Ravenclaw," Lord Delacour greeted him in smooth French, his sharp blue eyes analyzing him. The man was tall, exuding an aura of elegance and authority.
Ezekiel returned the greeting with a polite bow. "It is an honor, Lord Delacour."
Beside him, Fleur stood as poised as ever, though her expression softened slightly upon seeing him. She was dressed in an elegant light-blue robe, her silvery hair cascading down her back.
"You arrived safely," she said, her voice carrying an underlying warmth.
"Of course," Ezekiel replied smoothly, meeting her gaze. "It seems France is as welcoming as I remember."
Fleur gave a small smile. "I would hope so."
Lord Delacour motioned toward the estate. "Come. We have much to discuss."
Ezekiel followed, knowing this was just the beginning of his time in France.
---
After being shown his quarters, Ezekiel found himself walking through the gardens of the estate with Fleur. The scent of blooming flowers mixed with the fresh air, creating a serene atmosphere.
Fleur glanced at him. "So, how does it feel?"
Ezekiel raised a brow. "To be in France?"
She rolled her eyes. "To be Lord Ravenclaw."
Ezekiel considered his answer before speaking. "It feels… expected. I've trained for this my whole life, but now that it's real, the weight of it is different."
She nodded, understanding. "Responsibility is never light, no matter how much one prepares for it."
There was a brief silence before Fleur sighed, glancing away. "I… have missed speaking with you in person."
Ezekiel smirked. "Then it's a good thing I'm here."
She turned back to him, her blue eyes unreadable. "Yes… but you will leave again soon."
There was something in her voice—something uncertain. Ezekiel felt it, that strange pull between them, as if the bond between them was still unresolved, unfinished.
"I promised I would return, didn't I?" he said quietly.
Fleur studied him for a moment before giving a soft smile. "Yes. You did."
And somehow, that promise felt heavier than before.
---