Wind and snow fell together.
Fleur suddenly felt something warm and wet.
The next instant, her vision returned, and she saw a massive horse's head right in front of her, its fiery red eyes staring unblinkingly at her.
A young Abraxan had lowered its head and gently licked Fleur's cheek with its outstretched tongue.
Clearly, the warm, wet sensation just now had come from it.
"Are you awake?"
Following the gentle voice, Fleur saw Lucien standing not far away, holding an open silver pocket watch.
Although surrounded by endless wind and snow, the boy's black wizard's robe and sky-blue scarf were untouched by the white snow, and his dark golden hair was not disturbed by the cold wind.
It was as though the wind and snow were deliberately avoiding him, unwilling to disturb him.
But the moment she saw those dark green eyes, Fleur instinctively avoided Lucien's gaze.
The deep-seated stiffness she had just felt sent shivers down her spine, and her heart couldn't help pounding faster.
Fleur's reaction made Lucien think she had not fully recovered yet.
The Eye of Peering Magic, modified with a Basilisk's eye, also possessed a similar petrifying effect. The students who had been petrified by the Basilisk had described the experience as extremely uncomfortable.
This whole thing...
Lucien lowered his gaze to the pocket watch.
The petrifying stiffness caused by the Eye of Peering Magic had lasted two minutes and thirty-seven seconds.
Was it because the close-range eye contact had improved the petrification effect?
Hmm, there should also be a reason related to Magic.
Thanks to his SS-ranked magical talent, Lucien's magic power grew rapidly, showing a noticeable increase almost every month or two.
The petrifying effect of the Eye of Peering Magic was directly related to Lucien's own magic power. During eye contact, the greater the difference in magic power between the two people, the stronger the effect.
Evidently, the difference in magic power between Lucien and Fleur was enormous.
After calming down slightly, Fleur realised that she, too, was not being touched by the wind and snow, and she did not feel cold at all.
She glanced at the young Abraxan shaking its head beside her, unsure whether the warmth from its body had dispelled the cold, or whether...
Fleur was about to look at Lucien when she heard him say,
"That was an accident just now. I apologise for it..."
But before Lucien could finish, Fleur waved her hands repeatedly.
"It's fine, it's fine. It was an accident, just an accident. Don't worry about it."
Fleur turned her head slightly, a hint of guilt appearing on her face.
Although she did not understand how Lucien had made her fall into that strange rigid state, she could guess that it had come from their eye contact, from Lucien's eyes.
In truth, that close-range eye contact just now had been very impolite and rather unladylike.
It had all stemmed from Fleur's curiosity.
Fleur was very curious about Lucien.
She was curious how someone three years younger than herself could possess such talent and brilliance that he had impressed Nicolas Flamel and become the legendary Alchemist's student.
She was also curious about Lucien's gaze.
Fleur's maternal grandmother was a pure-blooded Veela, and because of this lineage, Fleur herself had possessed enviable beauty since childhood.
Also because of the inherited charm in her Veela bloodline, Fleur had an unusual attraction to men.
Fleur had seen obsession, admiration, and even crazier things in their eyes.
But the first time they met at the school gates, Lucien's eyes had cleared so quickly. That was something Fleur rarely saw, especially from a boy of an age of raging hormones.
So Fleur was truly curious.
What kind of person was Lucien?
"All right, little one, you can't have too much wine."
Lucien patted the now-empty small oak wine barrel beside him and deftly put it away.
However, the young Abraxan beneath him was clearly unhappy. It snorted in dissatisfaction and pawed the ground twice with its hooves.
Although it was not yet fully grown, the foal's shoulder height was already two sizes larger than even the largest ordinary horse breed, the Shire.
Seeing its stance of "I'm not moving unless I get wine," Lucien smiled helplessly and took a handful of specially formulated Abraxan feed from his pocket.
He raised his right hand, palm facing upward.
Whoosh.
A steady flame quietly ignited in his palm.
At the same time, a crimson flame-shaped mark on the pad of Lucien's middle finger glowed faintly, and an almost imperceptible thread of red-orange light flowed from it, merging into the flame in his palm.
He cupped the flame and slowly swept it beneath the feed, and the unique magical fire instantly released the feed's rich aroma.
The temperamental young Abraxan was immediately attracted. It turned its head, its warm tongue eagerly reaching out to scoop it up.
Watching its impatient manner, the smile at the corners of Lucien's mouth deepened.
It was the same principle as Thunderbirds loving to consume lightning. Abraxans were naturally drawn to pure fire elements.
Fleur, who was also riding a young Abraxan, followed beside Lucien, her gaze fixed on Lucien's palm and that peculiar flame.
After the small accident earlier, the two of them had formally become acquainted.
Upon learning that Lucien had received Madame Maxime's permission to explore the mountains around Beauxbatons, Fleur had offered to act as his guide.
For some reason, when she saw that flame, a faint sense of closeness and resonance rose in Fleur's heart. It was warm and peaceful, as if she had encountered something of the same origin.
The Abraxan she was riding also moved closer, its large eyes fixed on the delicious feed in Lucien's hand. Its meaning could not have been clearer.
Lucien divided half of the feed and held it to the Abraxan's mouth, laughing softly.
"If you want a horse to run, you have to let it eat its fill."
The foal he was riding raised its head and snorted loudly.
"Neigh, neigh!"
Lucien understood. This little one was still thinking about the whisky.
Alcoholism really did start young.
"Guide me properly and finish showing me this mountain range," Lucien said, patting its sturdy neck and making a promise, "and when we're done, there'll be good wine."
Hearing this, the other Abraxan quickly swallowed the feed in its mouth and eagerly nudged closer, letting out an expectant whinny.
Lucien reached out and patted its large head, soothing it skillfully.
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