Chapter 50: The Ball

Alvar straitened his doublet, adjusting it so that it wasn't as constricting around his chest. The French had stuck to many old traditions which were not present in Magical England such as the formal wear. Instead of robes being the commonplace wear, old Medieval to Renaissance period wear was common, although robes were still worn by a few.

His doublet was made of fine silver silks with blue and black trim in elaborate patterns to accent the doublet. White breeches stretched down his legs, stopping a little below the knee with the ends being covered by the tall dark black boots Alvar wore. A small black cape tied everything together.

Alvar felt a little silly being dressed like this. For all of his life he had worn robes and occasionally some muggle garb. However, he was used to strange pureblood customs and as he was representing the Flamel family, he thought it best to stick to the traditional French clothes. He glanced over his shoulder, Bertram was sitting down behind the counter in his bookshop. Alvar coughed loudly, catching the old man's attention and bringing him over to the full length mirror that Alvar stood before.

"It is excellent, you look prim and proper, just as they will expect from me." Bertram adjusted the pointed shoulders so that they stuck out further. "I expect that you are prepared to explain yourself once you arrive, Madame Aldric isn't exactly the brightest witch around."

"Of course," Alvar said smoothly. "I am a representative of the Flamel family. Matters unfortunately took precedence before the ball and so you decided to send me in your stead. You apologize for having yet to attend her balls in recent years."

Bertram gently slipped a small box into Alvar's hands. "Give this to her as an apology."

Alvar nodded and slipped the box into an inner pocket within his doublet.

"Be wary around some of the families, in recent weeks more and more of them have joined up with Voldemort's cause, or at the very least, they aren't against him. Some of them may have heard of the Greengrass family so I'd advise you against using that as your last name. Say that I adopted you, Claudius Flamel. Your brilliance would explain as to why I would be interested in adopting you and this would help smooth things along with Madame Aldric."

The invitation warmed in Alvar's breeches signalling the one minute warning before it activated. Alvar had everything ready for this, he was prepared, he would drag the Death Eaters out into the open and lure Voldemort's attention to France.

"Bonne chance," Bertram said a moment before the portkey activated.

The tug that Alvar felt was tight and constricting. Nearly a second after it activated, Alvar landed on a large stone platform near the top of a very large hill. Above him, Aldric Manor loomed in the early night sky. Bright lights could be seen scattered around the building inside the large ornate windows which littered the Manor but it didn't help much to make the dark manor appear less intimidating. A light snow fluttered down from above and covered the Manor and the grounds around it. There seemed to be repelling charms around the platform which prevented snow from landing on it.

The large platform which Alvar stood upon held a dozen other guests. Alvar could see a few other platforms from his position, it was likely that there were more all around the Manor. The platforms all had stone pathways connected to them which led up to a large circular path witch circled the Manor. Alvar had been sent to the front platform which led directly up toward the front doors of the Manor. He saw the French Minister only a few feet away from him, rotund as ever. Clearly Bertram was highly regarded if he was sent to the same platform as the Minister, or at least his family name was that important.

"Mesdames et Messieurs, welcome to Aldric Manor!" A man wearing a fine set of black robes stood just outside of the open doors of Aldric Manor. "Madame Aldric is inside awaiting your presence, the House-Elves shall guide you inside."

On queue, one House-Elf appeared on each platform. "This way please," a small one said on Alvar's platform. He saw a scowl from a middle-aged man near the back of the group.

Alvar casually slipped into the messy lineup made up of the groups of people. He was the only one alone on the platform and he got a few strange looks directed his way. Clearly no one knew who he was or why he was important enough to be with them. Alvar took note of as many faces as possible. He wanted to remember these people as they were some of the most important members of the French pureblood society.

Quickly the group shuffled forward up the short pathway to the Manor, following behind the House-Elf. They were the only group moving so far, Alvar assumed that the next group would follow their tail and so on. Everyone was chattering quietly among themselves as they passed through the open maple doors into the Manor.

The foyer was quite impressive, at least what Alvar could make out from behind the Minister's group. Clean and polished light wood floors contrasted beautifully with the dark walls which were covered with paintings of vast landscapes. The room was completely square, a door on either side, and a large set of double doors at the opposite end of the foyer from the front entrance. The doors were open and Alvar could see the bright light emanating from the room beyond.

Off to the right side of the foyer, coat racks stood ready and waiting with House-Elves standing demurely nearby for any assistance the guests may require. The man who welcomed them to the Manor himself stood by the doors with an older woman. She was wearing a fine white dress with long sleeves and golden embroidery done around the bodice. It seemed to be struggling to stay together due to the woman's large size. Clearly the dress was made for someone much smaller than her. Still though, the older woman had a rather pretty face.

"Madame Aldric wishes to welcome you all to Aldric Manor. If you would be so kind as to enter the hall here," the man gestured to the open doorway beside him.

"Oh, brother!" Madame Aldric tried to run over to her brother but her dress seemed to restrict her movements. As quickly as she could, she ran over to her brother, the French Minister for Magic, and wrapped her arms around his equally large form. She pulled back awkwardly and put her hands on the Minister's cheeks. "I'm so glad you could make it."

"Yes, yes, I couldn't miss it for the world." The Minister gently pulled Madame Aldric's hands away from his face.

"Go on inside, I shall be in much later unfortunately." Madame Aldric stepped back to the man in the black robes and allowed the Minister and his entourage to pass by.

Alvar walked forward confidently and bowed his head as he approached Madame Aldric. "Bonjour Madame, Claudius Flamel at your service."

Madame Aldric studied him with a deep gaze and raised an eyebrow in a questioning manner. "I have never heard of a Claudius Flamel," she said airily.

"Lord Bertram Flamel adopted me into his family, by rights I am now his legal and sole heir to the Flamel family." Madame Aldric seemed placated by this answer and immediately she took on a more relaxed pose. Behind Alvar, he heard the murmurings of his name being spread down the line. "Lord Flamel regrets that he cannot be here tonight himself, he has had a rather busy schedule as of late."

Madame Aldric waved it off. "It matters not, he hasn't been seen in years."

Remembering the gift, Alvar reached within his doublet and pulled out the small rectangular box which held the gift for Madame Aldric. "He asked me to give this to you, along with his regrets."

The older woman's eyes lit up as she saw the fine black box. She greedily snatched it up and opened it quickly. Madame Aldric gasped as she pulled out a vial filled with a thin, clear liquid. "A gift for the loveliest woman in all of France," she read from a small card embedded in the roof of the box. "This vial will halt the visible ageing process for two and a half years to the day."

"A wonderful gift, Madame," the man beside her exclaimed.

"You must give Lord Flamel my thanks, I shall commemorate this night by drinking this at the conclusion of the ball," Madame Aldric gushed, giddy as a young child.

Taking this as his cue to leave, Alvar bowed his head once more and quickly made his way through the open doors to the Hall. Alvar found himself stunned as he entered the room, it was breathtaking. The first thing that he noticed was that it was actually made up of two levels. He stood up top on the second floor on a very large balcony which overlooked the hall. A few tables littered the top of the balcony. Two curved staircases stood at either end of the large balcony, leading down to the main floor.

The main floor of the hall had a large stage at the back end of the hall. A large, dark oak table stretched across the stage with place settings for at least thirty. The centre of the room was left empty, presumably for a large area for dancing. A second stage was off to the left side of the hall where an orchestral band already stood playing music for the guests that were filing in. Beneath the balcony there were a medley of tables strewn throughout, enough to hold all of the guests.

A great big golden chandelier hovered high above the dance floor in mid-air, attached to nothing. Light emanated from it, reflecting off of the white floor which had gold, blue, and beige colours inlaid in it. The floor was patterned with diamond shapes connected by swirling lines of colour. A large circle lay in the centre of the room which was segmented finely again by the beautiful colours.

As Alvar descended the steps to reach the main floor, he caught sight of a petite House-Elf rushing over to him. The small creature stopped at the base of the stairs and waited for him. "This way, good sir," the little House-Elf squeaked.

Alvar had to fight back his disdain at seeing a healing cut on the back of the creatures neck, someone wasn't treating this House-Elf well. His eyes flickered behind him to the top of the stairs. Madame Aldric was coming down with a large entourage of guests. A subtle flick of his wrist conjured a small flame inches from her eyes. He vanished it instantly but from the shriek that Madame Aldric emitted, he knew that she had seen it. He turned his head to her, as did all of the other guests. A man beside her asked her what was wrong but she waved him off, Alvar noted that her chest was still heaving from fright.

The House-Elf led Alvar up to the centre stage in the room and he quickly caught sight of a place setting with the name "Lord Flamel" embroidered on a piece of cloth which floated in mid-air above his setting. Alvar thanked the House-Elf and silently healed the cuts on the small creature. It shivered but recognized what was happening, the House-Elf vanished away with a smile on its face.

Alvar sat himself down in his seat and waited as more and more guests filed into the room. Madame Aldric and her entourage took up the remaining seats at the head table. Alvar found himself seated between an older man and the middle-aged man who had scowled at the House-Elf back when they had first arrived at the Manor. Well over two hundred people filled the empty seats in the grand room. Alvar found it strange looking down at all of them like this, he wondered if the teachers at Hogwarts ever felt the same as he did now.

As Madame Aldric stood up to give her prepared speech, Alvar couldn't help but tune it out. The woman had already shown him that she was quite dreadful, so he chose to instead survey the crowds of people. Every single seat was taken up, most tables fitted at least ten individuals. A strong majority of the attendees were older adults but there were quite a few young adults and teenagers, even a few children. Closer to the front of the seating held some of the more rich and prominent families while further back were the poorer families. The one thing Alvar didn't know was their blood-status.

Within a few minutes, Madam Aldric finished her speech and sat down. At the instant that she was comfortable in her seat, food appeared on all of the tables. Lighter food, sliced fish with a healthy scent, dozens of bisques and soups all steaming hot, and foie gras, among other things, appeared on the table. House-Elves appeared with dozens of bottles of fine wines, a wide selection for the head table to choose from. Being unacknowledged on the subject, Alvar simply chose one at random. However, before the House-Elf could pour, the older man beside him spoke up. "Non, non, non, this one instead, much better saveur."

The House-Elf poured the other one into Alvar's glass. "Merci," he nodded to the man.

"Ah, an Englishman I take it," the older man said, "I can tell from the accent." Alvar took in the older gentleman. The most striking feature was his thick blondish-white hair atop his head that hung down loosely to his shoulders. His deep blue eyes and a faint smile playing on his lips.

"Yes, Claudius Flamel."

"Thierry Proulx, and that prickly pear at your other side is Pierrick Melott," Thierry gestured across Alvar.

Alvar turned to look at the man at his right side. Pierrick Melott glared past Alvar into the eyes of Thierry. His receding hairline was juxtaposed with the thick black hair he still had on his head. His face was cleanly shaven and looked rather plain if Alvar was being honest, someone who wasn't eye-catching. "Proulx," Pierrick Melott replied coldly.

"Don't mind him," Thierry waved vaguely toward Melott, "in any case, I'm curious about you Flamel."

A House-Elf placed a slice of a fine white fish on Alvar's plate along with a small bowl of some sort of yellow soup that was steaming hot. "Curious about what exactly?" Alvar asked politely while waving away the House-Elf from serving him further.

Thierry leaned forward in his seat and greedily snatched a couple slices of baguette from a horrified looking House-Elf. He nibbled on one in thought. "Your origins; what made you so special that you would be taken on as an adopted heir to the Flamel family?"

"I've been wondering about that as well," Melott cut in with a cold stare directed at Alvar.

"I suppose that I made a strong impression on Lord Flamel when I first met him, as I understand it, he was rather taken with my ability in magic," Alvar explained confidently, Thierry nodded at the explanation.

"Yes but where did he find you? What was the magic that you were performing that made him so interested in you?" Thierry pressed on.

They hadn't covered this before so Alvar was forced to make everything up as he went along. Thankfully, Bertram was a recluse so he wouldn't have to worry about having two different stories. He would simply tell Bertram later as to what he said and then the man would go along with it. "I was raised just outside of Nice, my parents were refugees from the war with Voldemort in England." Alvar noted that Melott visibly recoiled at the use of the name.

"They kept us in seclusion until they died when I was twelve. My parents had trained me in the use of magic since I was younger, particularly on duelling so that I would be protected. Anyway, I was out one day in the muggle part of Nice when I was attacked by a man. He had tried to kidnap me but I fought him off with my magic. Lord Flamel had seen this and erased the man's memories of the incident. From there he always seemed to appear wherever I ended up. It was only a little under a year ago when I agreed to join his family as his adopted son."

The lie covered all of his bases, it would explain why he had never been seen in France and why Flamel supposedly adopted him into his family. No one would be able to question it.

"An interesting tale," Thierry said when Alvar was finished.

"Indeed." Melott took a bite of fish. It was clear that he was unsatisfied with Alvar's answers.

The meal progressed quietly afterward with only a bit of small talk spread throughout. During this, Alvar gained a good sense of Thierry, he was an amusing old man who was simply trying to live his life as stress free as possible. Melott on the other hand was a bit different. The man was cold, he seemed bigoted, not unlike many of the purebloods and Death Eaters that Alvar had met back in England. He expressed pride for his family's name and for his son especially.

Alvar was only a few seats down from Madame Aldric, it was evident that she had set up the head table according as to who was important in the French magical society. He was able to learn that both the Proulx and Melott families were important families in the French Pureblood society. The Proulx family had two French Ministers for Magic in their line and the family business was primarily based around world trade. They imported and exported many magical goods. The Melott were known for holding many prominent positions within the Ministry, though they lacked any who made their way to the very top. They controlled many vineyards and wineries throughout France and other countries.

As the meal winded down, Madame Aldric stood once more. "Now that the feast has been completed, the ball shall commence."

Immediately, the band that had been playing became much louder and most everyone stood up from there seats. The food, plates, and utensils all disappeared, only the drinks remained. Alvar watched from the head table as the masses began to mingle with one another, many couples walked into the centre of the room and began to dance.

"Go on, we don't need to stay up here," Thierry told Alvar when he saw him gazing out at everyone.

Alvar slowly stood up from his seat and made his way around the back of the table. Everyone else from the head table got up just after him. As Alvar walked off of the stage, he had the feeling of someone staring at him from behind. He glanced backwards and caught site of Melott staring at him from his seat at the head table.

Alvar walked around the outskirts of the room as to avoid the dancers in the middle. The sole light in the room dimmed slightly as more and more people began dancing beautifully on the floor. As Alvar finally made his way to the opposite side of the room, he saw a beautiful woman descend from the staircase. She wore a long pale-blue dress with long sleeves and her long silvery-blonde hair hung down her back. The thing that Alvar noticed the most though was her eyes, they were a beautiful shinning blue that looked exactly like Daphne's.

In fact, this girl looked very much like Daphne. She held herself with a certain grace which most people lacked. Her hair, body, skin tone, and eyes all mimicked those of Daphne. The only difference was here face. While Daphne tended to keep her emotions locked away in public, this girl had a dazzling smile on her face. He didn't realize that he had been staring until she caught his eye.

Immediately, Alvar wanted to leave. He wanted to go home, to be alone. He had done his best to try to work past Daphne, as futile as his efforts had been. Alvar dropped his eyes to the floor.

"Hello?" The girl said.

Her voice was just as beautiful as she was, it fit her well.

"Sorry," Alvar muttered, "you look like someone I knew."

"Oh."

Alvar looked up and she was still staring down at him from a few steps up from the base of the stairs. Slowly, she walked down the remaining steps, keeping her eyes on Alvar the whole while. "Are you alright?" She asked.

Now that she was standing on the floor with him, Alvar noticed that she was taller than Daphne. The top of her head was just short of his. "I'm fine," Alvar replied dismissively. He made to walk up the stairs to leave but a voice called him back.

"Fleur Delacour, you grow more and more beautiful every time I see you."

The blond girl, Fleur, stiffened at the voice. All that Alvar wanted to do was leave but something called him to remain. He paused at the foot of the stairs and turned around. A young man with short, coiffed black hair was approaching through the throngs of dancers. He walked with an air of importance, he was dressed in immaculate clothes.

"Julien," Fleur replied with a cold gaze.

Julien walked up to her until he was only a couple steps away. As though he were remembering something, he shook his head and took a step back. "I missed you at my families ball, not hiding from me are you?" He grinned, flashing his perfect white teeth.

"I have nothing to say to you Julien, I suggest you leave, maintenant," Fleur switched back into French at the end and narrowed her eyes at Julien.

"Now now, Fleur, please calm down." Julien finally looked at Alvar, as though he hadn't noticed him before. His expression turned dark for a moment before he regained his pleasant look from before. "We have not been introduced, sir. Julien Melott at your service." He gave an exaggerated bow.

"I met your father earlier, he seemed like quite the accomplished man," Alvar replied. Julien put him on edge, Alvar kept catching these little hints of anger from him, it was like he was struggling to keep up Occlumency barriers to calm himself but he kept slipping up.

"Yes, he is quite proud of everything he's accomplished. I'm sorry if he bored you with his drabble, he is prone to that." Julien looked back and forth between Fleur and Alvar. "So, are you two…"

"Non, we just met," Fleur replied quickly.

Julien chuckled. "Well then I'll be off, take care dear Fleur."

Alvar was confused, the entire conversation had been strange, and the abrupt ending. He kept an eye on Julien as he retreated back into the dancing people until he was obscured from his vision. He turned back to Fleur who was simply looking down at the floor with a blank expression on her face, it was so different from her shining smile she had when she was walking down the stairs. "I'm sorry about that," she told him, looking up from the floor.

"Are you alright?" Alvar asked, concerned. Something was off about this entire thing, Alvar's curiosity got the better of him, he felt compelled to figure out what all of this was about. His sadness from thinking about Daphne vanished from his mind.

Fleur brushed a loose strand of her silvery hair back behind her ear. "I-," Fleur sighed. "I'm sorry-"

"It's fine," Alvar cut in, "but if something is wrong, I want to know about it. I want to help you, you look so different now from when I first saw you. You're… troubled, sad, confused."

"All those and more."

Alvar held out his hand. Fleur hesitated for a moment before cautiously putting her hand in his. Slowly, Alvar led her up the stairs. Her hand was delicate in his, smooth and perfect skin. He couldn't help but glance to his side where he caught her looking at him. Fleur looked away and Alvar noticed a faint blush on her face, he felt his face begin to turn red as well but he quickly locked down his feelings of embarrassment at being caught looking at her.

From the top of the stairs, Alvar could see everything unfolding below them. Couples danced in the middle of the room while others chatted to the side or at the tables. Alvar felt the same tingling sensation he felt earlier and he noticed that he was being watched by Pierrick Melott from the head table again, only this time he was joined by his son.

Wary of their gaze, Alvar positioned himself and Fleur at a table which had a large pillar blocking the view from below. There were only a handful of others on the balcony, three sitting at a table by the stairs and a small group of four talking by the exit. As they sat down, a selection of pastries appeared on the table along with two steaming cups of coffee. Alvar noticed that Fleur was still nervous so he grabbed a macaron and cup of coffee. He nibbled on the treat but Fleur only took her own cup of coffee and sipped from it.

Alvar bided his time, he knew that sometimes silence was the best way to get someone talking. Still though, he couldn't help but wonder why he was with her right now. Why did he want to help her? It wasn't as though he felt this way with everyone. Obviously he noticed that she looked vaguely similar to Daphne but it wasn't as though that was the reason, was it?

"I am sorry about all of this," Fleur began.

"Don't be. This isn't your fault."

Fleur pressed her lips tightly together in thought, as though it would prevent her from saying what she was thinking. "Julien is… he is a jealous man. He can't stand to see me with anyone else."

"You two were together?"

Fleur nodded. "For a time, he was so sweet and gentle. It was not until much later that I saw what he was truly like. He and I were… close."

Alvar couldn't exactly understand what she was feeling right now. Being cooped up in his manor until he was fifteen left him rather uncertain in how to deal with people at times. He felt like he couldn't truly relate to Fleur, even though he could logically comprehend what she was saying. "And you loved him?"

"I did, do, I don't know." Fleur sipped her coffee nervously. "He and his father have made allies in England, I fear that he's a part of the Death Eaters." She looked around as she said this, making sure that no one was listening in on their conversation. "You-know-who has been recruiting in France and beyond, Julien's father has close ties with the English Malfoy family."

This was disturbing news indeed, yet it gave Alvar critical information that he needed. If Julien and Pierrick Melott were involved in the Death Eaters here in France then he had a good starting point.

A crash below them shook Alvar from his thoughts. Fleur stood up and looked over the railing below, Alvar peered over as well. Two men were locked in duelling positions. A dark haired man flicked his wand and a metal platter soared from a nearby table, sending food to the floor, and smacked into the other man's back. The man stumbled forward and brashly swung at the other man with his fist. The dark haired man side-stepped out of the way in an exaggerated manner.

The dark haired man spun around and looked at everyone as the man he had been fighting fell to the floor from a body-bind. Sirius Black, Alvar recognized him instantly. The man who had first welcomed everyone to the manor showed up promptly and dispatched a couple of House-Elves to deal with the defeated man. "Monsieur Black, we do not tolerate fighting here." Alvar could barely hear the man over the music and the crowds of people talking.

"Sorry," Sirius scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

"What a buffoon," Fleur muttered.

The House-Elves levitated the man upstairs, Alvar watched as the man passed by, he caught sight of the top of a black tattoo on the man's left wrist. Subtly, Alvar pulled his finger towards himself and the man's sleeve pulled back as well revealing the Dark Mark. "Fleur," Alvar began, already deep in thought, "who was that man that got knocked out?"

"Antoine Modisette," she answered.

This was more than Alvar could have hoped for, he had a definite Death Eater along with a strong lead that the Melott family is a part of the Death Eaters. Everything was set. He looked over to Fleur again. His heart ached, but not for her, he missed Daphne.

"I'm sorry Fleur, but I must go now," Alvar told her with a sad smile on his face.

"Maintenant?" She looked sad but Alvar didn't have any time to waste.

"Yes," he lied. In truth, he didn't want to be near her right now, she reminded him too much of Daphne. "Stay safe, I think that things will get better soon, just focus on a reason to move forward."

Fleur nodded her head and Alvar quickly left her before anymore could be said. He exited through the doors to leave the manor, moving faster and faster until he realized that he was sprinting out of the manor and down the path so he could apparate out. As he reached the platform he arrived on, he began turning to apparate away. Through the dark of the night, he caught a glimpse of two figures standing in front of the entrance to the manor looking down on him.