Six years had passed since Louis had first stepped into the wizarding world. Now nine years old, he carried himself with the poise and intellect of someone far beyond his years. The days had flown by in a blur of lessons, discovery, and quiet growth, yet the night before Fleur tenth birthday, Louis found himself deep in reflection.
Sitting by the tall window of his study, bathed in the soft amber glow of dusk, Louis gazed out across the garden. The sky was painted with streaks of gold and rose, but his mind was elsewhere—revisiting the years that had shaped him.
Under Appoline mentorship ,Louis had advanced rapidly. What began with basic levitation and channeling exercises had evolved into mastering complex spells most adult wizards struggled with. Enchantments, defensive wards, advanced transfigurations, and even obscure magical theories —even if his master disapproved— found their way into his daily study. Appoline, after initial hesitation, had come to embrace his unique brilliance. He wasn't a child learning magic. He was a scholar discovering it.
He had followed his lessons rigorously, never once falling behind. His Teacher curriculum, demanding and rich, had become his foundation. He had absorbed knowledge like a sponge, but more than that, he had refined it. Magic theory, incantation crafting, emotional discipline—Louis had excelled in all of it.
One of his most significant accomplishments was the creation of his own spell—Visus Gravitas, Latin for "Weight of the Gaze." Inspired by the commanding aura he had once projected as a king, this spell allowed Louis to exert subtle psychological pressure through eye contact. It was not aggressive, nor violent—but it conveyed silent authority, unnerving even the most confident adversaries. A tool of presence, not of power.
Yet tonight, his focus was not on strength or strategy. It was Fleur's birthday that occupied his heart and mind.
Fleur had become one of the few constants in his new life. Her Veela heritage, though not fully awakened at her young age, gave her a natural grace and warmth that often made people stop and stare. But Louis had long learned to look past the charm magic that would one day bloom fully in her. What had truly drawn him in was her sincerity, her energy, and the way she treated him not as someone strange or distant—but as a true equal.
She had helped him remember what it felt like to laugh without reason. To run simply because it felt good. To be young again.
He wanted to honor that with something personal. Something magical.
Reaching across his desk, Louis unfurled a scroll of crisp parchment and retrieved his notes. His fingers moved with precision as he drafted the magical structure of the new spell. He whispered softly, crafting the incantation from his own magical theory and intention. It would be called Flamma Litterae—Letters of Flame.
The spell would send glowing, ember-like letters into the sky, spelling out a heartfelt message at twilight. The letters would hover above Fleur's home, flickering like fireflies in warm hues of orange and gold. Not hot. Not dangerous. Just… beautiful.
He practiced the hand movement in the air—slow, elegant curves. Then came the whispered words:
"Flamma Litterae."
A soft shimmer danced at the tip of his hands, and in his mind's eye, he saw the message take form:
Happy Birthday, Fleur. From your friend, Louis.
The image lingered, warm and comforting. It was simple, but it was enough.
He leaned back in his chair, letting the moment sink in. Despite all his talents, all his memories from a past life, this one gesture felt like the most genuine he'd ever performed.
There were times when the weight of his former self—the king, the strategist, the monarch—pressed heavily on him. But with Fleur, he could breathe. He could smile. He could be Louis, the boy.
Tomorrow night, as the stars began to rise, he would cast his gift into the sky. And for that one moment, he hoped she would feel what he couldn't always say aloud.
That her friendship mattered. That it meant more than words.
And maybe, just maybe, when she looked up and saw those letters dancing in the air, she would smile the way only she could. And that would be his real reward.