Chapter 105: The Proud Girl

Chapter 105: The Proud Girl

Fleur quickly realized what she had lost.

The wand she had always kept in her robe pocket was gone!

The moment she realized this, her face turned deathly pale.

Her wand was custom-made, with the core being a strand of hair from her Veela grandmother!

This wand was not only her casting tool but also a highly significant keepsake.

Fleur also noticed the hint Sherlock had given her before he left. She saw the goblin who had sprinkled Floo Powder into the fireplace, enveloped in green flames, and then disappeared.

A male wizard sitting at the same table reminded her.

"I heard him say his destination was Carter Street."

Fleur didn't hesitate. She quickly grabbed some Floo Powder and threw it into the fireplace, shouting "Carter Street", before diving into the flames.

The green flames spun her around, and she finally landed in a dusty, dilapidated fireplace.

"Cough, cough, cough!"

Fleur coughed, ignoring the dust on her face and clothes as she rushed out of the fireplace.

She found herself in an old wooden house, which looked like a wizard's home, but there was no sign of the goblin.

Someone upstairs heard the commotion and stomped down the stairs. An old witch with a fierce look glared at her.

"Who are you! Who gave you permission to use my fireplace!"

"A goblin stole my wand. Someone heard him use Floo Powder to come here", Fleur said, her eyes fixed on the old witch. "Did you see him?"

Her tone was far from polite, and she acted as if she had every right to be there.

The old witch's patience was at its limit.

"Get out of my house! I've never seen any goblin or Veela!"

She didn't seem to be lying, and Fleur realized she had come to the wrong place.

Her face was deathly pale, and her lips were tightly pressed together. She pulled out a few Galleons from her pocket.

"Let me use some of your Floo Powder to get home. This is your payment."

The old witch sneered at her.

"Proud little girl, even if you paid me a fortune, I wouldn't give you any Floo Powder! The Ministry of Magic is coming to shut down my fireplace's Floo Network in a month, and I haven't stored any Floo Powder for a long time."

"Then Apparate me away. I need to get back to Paris."

"Get out!"

The old witch waved her wand, and Fleur was thrown out of the wooden house, landing on the street outside.

The night was pitch black, and the street was clearly in a state of disrepair. There were no pedestrians, no streetlights, only a few distant houses with dim lights.

Fleur rubbed her shoulder, which had been bruised from the fall. Her eyes were red and watery as she stood up, feeling humiliated.

She was no longer the proud and elegant girl she had been. Her silver-white hair and face were covered in dust, and her once clean and beautiful robe was now dirty.

She looked around, realizing she had no wand and no Muggle money, and had no idea how to leave this place.

She glanced back at the closed door of the wooden house, her lips pressed together in a thin line. Her pride wouldn't allow her to beg the old witch for help again.

So, she held back the tears that were threatening to spill and resolutely walked down the street toward the area with the brightest lights.

Sherlock and Harry didn't spend the night in Aspe Town. Instead, Sherlock drove them back to Toulouse, where they checked into a high-end hotel.

The inns in wizard towns, regardless of their facilities or service, couldn't compare to Muggle hotels, so Sherlock and Harry had no intention of staying in a wizard town.

After a night's rest, Harry and Sherlock were refreshed and ready to continue their journey the next morning. They filled up the car's tank and set off.

According to Sherlock's plan, they would visit Switzerland next before heading to Paris.

Sherlock turned east along the Mediterranean coast from Toulouse, heading to the next coastal city, Montpellier.

Despite eating delicious food for several days, Harry's appetite hadn't diminished.

At lunchtime, they stopped at a roadside diner and had a simple dish of braised potatoes. Harry ate every last bit, even licking the sauce from his lips.

"Miss Delacour mentioned she was also going to find Nicolas Flamel?"

Harry couldn't stop thinking about the charming girl.

Sherlock rolled his eyes at him.

"Nicolas Flamel is, after all, an alumnus of Beauxbatons. If he can give us, from Hogwarts, a piece of the Philosopher's Stone, why can't he do the same for his own alma mater?"

Harry heard Sherlock's words and sulked, not saying a word.

He felt that after the blessing yesterday, it was questionable whether Fleur could even find Nicolas Flamel unharmed.

The journey to Montpellier was not long, taking only three and a half hours.

This city on the Mediterranean coast didn't have many famous tourist spots. Sherlock and the others only took a few commemorative photos at the Comédie Square and the Place du Peyrou before continuing their drive north.

An unknown rock song played on the car radio, and Sherlock hummed along to the tune. Harry, sitting in the passenger seat, fiddled with the camera, taking pictures of the scenery along the road.

"Don't use up the film. We still don't know where to buy more", Sherlock reminded him.

Harry nodded in agreement. He hadn't taken many photos and was mostly using the camera to look at the outside world through its lens.

They were driving through an endless field of wheat when a bedraggled, white figure suddenly flashed past in Harry's viewfinder.

Harry was taken aback and quickly leaned out to look back. After confirming the figure, he quickly pulled his head back in and turned to Sherlock in shock.

"Professor! Stop the car! Look who's behind us!"

Sherlock hit the brakes and, through the rearview mirror on Harry's side, saw the dirty figure walking along the road.

He shifted into reverse and slowly drove the car up to the girl.

Fleur, who had been walking all night, cold and hungry, noticed the car that had stopped beside her.

After a Muggle had tried to take advantage of her under the guise of helping, Fleur had given up on seeking help from passing vehicles.

She continued walking, head held high, even in her current state of disarray.

"Miss Delacour."

When a familiar voice called out her last name, Fleur froze, her eyes widening with surprise as she looked at the car.

Sherlock and Harry both looked at her quizzically, wondering why she was here on a roadside in Montpellier, looking so miserable, when they had seen her in the Wizard town the night before.

Fleur, lips pressed together, looked at Sherlock, who had warned her about her stolen belongings the previous day. Her tone was stiff, but she clearly needed help.

"Can you give me a ride home?"

Sherlock gestured for her to sit in the backseat, and Fleur opened the door and got in.

As soon as she was seated, Harry couldn't wait to ask, "What are you doing here?"

"At the Warmth Bar, my wand was stolen. The goblin who stole it escaped through the fireplace, and I followed, but ended up in the wrong place—here."

Harry, after hearing her story, instinctively glanced at Sherlock, who looked back at him with a puzzled expression.

"Why are you looking at me?"

"Nothing, just thinking how cool you are, Professor."

"Thank you for the compliment, but even if you flatter me, I won't exempt you from your Defense Against the Dark Arts homework after the holidays."

In the backseat, Fleur quietly gripped the corner of her robe, trying to make her request sound less desperate.

"Could you Apparate me to Paris? My father will pay you."

Sherlock, seeing Fleur's determined yet desperate look in the rearview mirror, shrugged.

"I'm sorry, but I've never been to Paris. Apparition requires you to have been to the location before, so I can't help you with that."

Fleur's face fell.

She had just finished her fifth year and would be starting her sixth in the fall. The Ministry of Magic required students to be at least 17 years old to learn Apparition, which was usually in their sixth year. Therefore, Fleur couldn't Apparate, and even if Sherlock generously lent her his wand, she wouldn't be able to go back.

Seeing Fleur's low spirits, Harry looked at Sherlock, who understood his thoughts and sighed, saying, "If you have no other options, you can come with us. Our final destination is Paris, so we can drop you off on the way."

Fleur's expression brightened, and she softly said, "Thank you."

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it!" Harry waved his hand generously, as if he had done a great favor.

Sherlock took out the map again. Their plan to continue the trip to Sweden was definitely on hold. The distance from Montpellier to Paris was about eight hundred kilometers, and it would take around eight to nine hours of non-stop driving.

He didn't plan to rush it. Helping Fleur wasn't an obligation, just a favor.

After confirming the route, they set off again. During the journey, Sherlock asked about the male wizard who had accompanied Fleur into the bar.

"I remember you had a companion. Why isn't he helping you catch the thief?"

Fleur shook her head.

"Jonathan and I only met in Aspe Town. He said he was also heading to Paris to visit Nicolas Flamel, so we traveled together for a while."

Sherlock picked up on the unspoken meaning in her words.

"Quite a few wizards have been visiting Nicolas Flamel recently?"

"Yes, Flamel has lived for so long and has many old friends in the Wizarding World. I heard he sent out a lot of invitations, inviting his friends to bring promising young wizards to receive some interesting items from him."

Harry couldn't help but comment.

"So many people can receive something? I thought it was just us two, Professor."

Fleur had heard Harry call Sherlock "Professor" more than once and finally couldn't resist asking.

"Why does this boy call you Professor?"

Harry didn't jump to answer this time; he was quite hurt by the "boy" reference.

He was about to turn thirteen, so how could he still be called a boy?

Sherlock couldn't help but chuckle at Harry's expression.

"Because I am his professor. Let me introduce myself. My name is Sherlock Forrest, and I am the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This is my student, Harry Potter, who will be starting his third year this fall."

Fleur was taken aback when she heard their names.

She was not only surprised that Sherlock, so young, was already a professor at Hogwarts, but she also knew what the name Harry Potter represented.

The Delacour family, while not insisting on pure bloodlines, was still a historic and influential wizarding family in the French Wizarding World.

Voldemort's influence in the Wizarding World was not limited to the British Wizarding World; he just focused most of his efforts on Britain.

So, Fleur naturally knew who Harry Potter was.

"You're the one who defeated the Dark Lord!"

Harry appreciated the recognition, which finally washed away the embarrassment of being called a boy.

"I was so young back then, I didn't know anything. Defeating the Dark Lord wasn't my doing."

Even though he appreciated the praise, Harry wouldn't boast about defeating Voldemort. He knew his survival was entirely due to his mother's protection.

Sherlock, who was driving, smiled when he heard Harry's response.

Despite the countless praises for his "great achievements" in the Wizarding World, Harry never lost himself in them.

This was what Sherlock admired most about him.

Of course, it didn't hide the fact that Harry could sometimes act rashly.

"Then what about you? You don't look much older than me. How did you become a professor at Hogwarts?" Fleur turned her gaze to Sherlock, her tone full of skepticism.

Before Sherlock could speak, Harry started praising him.

"Professor Forrest is a very powerful wizard. After graduating from Hogwarts, he was recruited by the Ministry of Magic's Auror Office."

"Later, he resigned and spent a year researching defensive magic, even writing two books. Last year, Professor Dumbledore hired him as the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. He quickly became the favorite among the students in the castle. He also defeated the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, saving Hogwarts from being closed down!"

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end