The Path to Place Cachée
Chapter 3
★
“Stay with me,” his bark-like laughter rang out in the openness of the meadow. They had been spending the day together without his friends permanently attached at the hip. This was their own private celebration. They had both finished their studies the week prior, and although moving away from his family home meant more time together, they only had school holidays to catch up. The distance made an ache form, and the constant teasing of being lovesick did not help. He had asked his friends for a bit of space during the first few days of her visit. James was off with Lily. Remus held himself up in the Potter library, and Peter had decidedly left to spend time with his mum.
“Forever, si tu m'auras (if you’ll have me),” was her earnest reply. The gentle breeze of summer ruffled her hair, momentarily obscuring her view of the flower crown she had almost finished. Behind Potter Manor sat rolling hills of blossoming daisies in an array of colours. This crown was to be light purple. She couldn’t think of another colour complementing his onyx hair so well. With her focus on the last flower, she did not hear him move. Did not hear the rustling of his clothes.
“That’s all I’m asking for, Lydia. Forever with you,” the sound of her Sirius sounding so serious had her head snapping up. There, on a single knee, was the man she had adored since she was a young girl. The man she had decided to give her heart to when he would defend her non la magie (no magic) status to his mère (mother). Her heart stuttered at the sight of him.
“Sirius?” Her voice trembled.
He held out a delicate ring made of platinum and small enchanted stones that sparkled like starlight. "I know we’re young, and life is uncertain, but I can’t imagine my future without you. Will you marry me, Lydia? Be my wife, my partner in life, and the mother of my children?"
Lydia’s eyes filled with tears. She remembered all the times he had stood up for her, fought for their love, even against his own family. The Black family’s disdain for her non-magical status had never deterred him. He had always been her fiercest protector.
“Oui, mon amour (Yes, my love),” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Pour toujours et à jamais (For always and forever).”
Sirius slipped the ring onto her finger and pulled her into a tight embrace. They both knew that the future held many challenges, but in that moment, under the summer sun and surrounded by the beauty of nature, everything felt possible.
They spent the rest of the day in blissful celebration, talking about their dreams and plans. The Ostara holiday, a time of rebirth and renewal, felt like the perfect moment to mark the beginning of their new life together. They spoke of the hand-fasting ceremony they would have, asking Hecate, Mother Magic, for her blessing to bond their magical cores and souls.
As the sun set, casting a golden glow over the meadow, Lydia felt a profound sense of peace. She had found her forever in Sirius, and together they would face whatever came their way. The future, uncertain as it was, seemed brighter with him by her side.
///
“What are we waiting for?” Addy asked impatiently. They had been standing outside the airport for hours, or at the very least five minutes. She wanted to see the magical side of France and the home her maman had grown up in. Her plans did not include standing outside while the cold nipped at her ears.
“Patience, ma coeur (my heart). I told you we must wait for an official.” Lydia kept her eyes forward and the hold on Addy’s hand firm. Though it seemed unnecessary, she kept a vigilant watch over her surroundings, never letting her eyes linger too long in one spot.
“Heiress Black, Lady Black?” a portly man with a receding hairline and beady eyes asked as he approached them. Though there was an autumn chill, he pulled out a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his tweed blazer and wiped away the sweat that began to collect on his forehead. Lydia pulled Addy closer at the sight of him and raised an arched brow.
“Oui. Êtes-vous ici du ministère? (Yes. Are you here from the ministry?)”
“That I am. I’m Mr Hickinbottom. I’ve been assigned to escort you both to Place Cachée. Usually, there’s a protocol to check in with the ministry and have your wands scanned, but seeing as your situation calls for neither, it should be a rather short and pleasant trip.” His words were kind, but he offered no kindness in his expression.
“You’re English,” was all Lydia had to say to the man. His plump cheeks turned a vibrant pink at her observation. With a curt nod, he turned from them, waddling to the awaiting car that had gone unnoticed.
With another scan of the area, Lydia took hold of her luggage. Her carry-on, as well as Addy’s, having already been slung over her shoulder. There was no turning back. Time had run out for either of them to change their minds. Addy wouldn’t think of doing such a thing. It would feel like a betrayal to her papa. To the family she would never get to know. And most of all to herself.
Taking in the sights as the car moved forward, it all felt new and familiar. “I was here before,” she murmured. Nothing looked familiar to her. She didn’t recognize the street names or shops, but it felt almost welcoming. She gaped at the feeling, her questioning eyes turned to her maman, “Pourquoi ça me semble familier? (Why does it feel like I’ve been here before?)”
Lydia rubbed her thumb across Addy’s knuckles in the hopes of soothing her daughter. “C’est parce que tu as déjà été ici (That’s because you have been here). Tes premières années de vie étaient en France, et notre maison ancestrale n’est pas loin d’ici. Ta magie reconnaît la magie ambiante et la magie ancestrale profondément enracinée. (Your first years of life were in France, and our ancestral home is not far from here. Your magic recognizes the ambient magic and the deeply rooted ancestral magic.)”
Addy stared wide-eyed at her maman with the new knowledge she had been given. She had assumed she would’ve been from Magical Britain, but it made more sense to be further from the war. “J’ai vécu en France quand j’étais bébé? (I lived in France as a baby?)” She still asked in wonderment.
“Bien sûr, mon coeur (Of course, my heart). Zis is somezing we shall discuss later in private. Il y a des oreilles qui écoutent (There are ears that listen),” Lydia stated, leaving no room for argument. Addy gave an understanding nod; her maman had grown up in this world and knew best when to keep things behind warded doors. Instead, she looked back out the car window. She had thought they would’ve made their way to Diagon Alley. Her little obsession in her last life afforded her knowledge about the shops and side streets. They were hazier regarding Paris—mere trailer scenes instead of the whole story.
She continued to play with the belt of her wool coat. The outfit her maman made her change into in the first-class restroom reminded her of those old French films her maman would watch on rainy days. The smell of boeuf bourguignon (beef stew) soaked into the air of their small house. Lydia was missing home more than usual on those days.
“La première étape sera à La Banque des Enchanteurs. Addy, focus (The first step will be at The Bank of Enchanters. Addy, focus),” her maman’s voice is always soft, but an unquestioning command seizes Addy’s attention. Addy gives her head a slight shake, pulling herself out of thoughts of French cuisine and rainy days. “First, La Banque des Enchanteurs, zen your wand. Everyzing else will be done after if we 'ave time.” It was mid-afternoon. The time change would have been more disorientating if they hadn’t slept most of the flight. The less than a week of preparations and lack of sleep are finally catching up to both. Lydia more so than Addy.
The car came to a stop at the entrance of the Montmartre district. Lydia and Addy climbed out, feeling the crisp autumn air wrap around them. The cobblestone streets were bustling with life, but there was an underlying sense of magic that Addy could almost taste in the air. Lydia took a deep breath, her eyes scanning their surroundings with practised vigilance. She kept a firm hold on Addy’s hand as they made their way toward their destination.
It wasn’t until they were almost to the bottom of the steps, Mr Hickinbottom waddling down in front of them at a slow pace, that Addy noticed the bronze statue of a woman. The statue itself was unassuming until it started to move, beckoning them forward. “Tu vois ça, maman? Elle bouge.” (Can you see that, maman? She’s moving.) Her steps slowed even as Lydia tried to keep pace with the pudgy man.
“Oui, je vois ça (Yes, I see that). We must not become distracted; not yet,” Lydia nudged Addy, gesturing her to close the growing space between them and their escort.
“Pourquoi ils ne peuvent pas la voir?” (Why can’t they see it?) Addy asked, her excitement at the display of magic refusing to be contained. This was her dream. In both lives. The prospect of magic, of it being real and her being lucky enough to have access to it. She sucked in a gasp as they reached the statue. Adhara Cassiopeia Black, Heiress Black. Daughter of Sirius Orion Black. A pureblood witch. She felt lightheaded at the realness of it all. Her eighteen-year-old self was going absolutely mental.
“There are wards,” the man spoke bluntly at her question. “Muggles can’t see the entrance just like they can’t see disillusioned shops and homes. Only those with magic can.” With his last statement, his eyes lingered longer than necessary on Lydia.
The statue lifted the bronze-flowing fabric that covered the stone wall she was draped across, her hand beckoning them to cross through. Lydia knelt in an effort to keep her instructions hushed from any passersby, “Tout ce que tu dois faire, c'est marcher vite. N'hésite pas, et vise l'endroit où le tissu couvre. Regarde.” (All you need to do is start at a quick pace. Don’t hesitate, and aim for where the fabric is covering. Watch.) She nodded to Mr Hickinbottom, and he took that as his cue to demonstrate for the little witch. His waddle was faster than before, and when Addy was sure he was about to hit his head against the stone, he vanished. “Je serai juste derrière toi. Je promets.” (I’ll be right behind you. I promise.)
Squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin, she felt determined to prove she could do this. Addy was reminded of the train platform and the scene where Harry had run through the brick column. With a deep breath, she broke away from her maman, eyes trained on the spot the statue had gestured towards. She expected to feel something. Some resistance or for it to feel like passing through water. It felt like magic brushing against her skin. Tingly and smooth like silk. Her steps didn’t stop until she was a few steps away from the statue, which she now realized she was on the other side of. A wide brick road with various shops on each side was laid out in front of her. Addy made a small jump as a hand gripped her shoulder. Wide grey eyes stared up at her maman, who she saw was taking in the sight—a small smile playing at the corner of her lips.
“Lady Black, Heiress Black. If you’ll follow me?” The man made himself known, pulling their attention from the magical alley.
“Bien sûr,” (Of course) Lydia confirmed, “but while in France, Adhara will be addressed by ‘er French title. ‘eiress Flamel. Much more appropriate, non?”
Mr Hickinbottom, in all his ill-mannered glory, gaped at both ladies. Mouth open and eyes unfocused. An embarrassing squeak escaped his restricted throat before he could find enough sense to escape his stupor. Realizing the noise he made was, in fact, real and not some nightmare he hallucinated, his shoulders snapped back, making his large belly even more pronounced. His mouth clicked shut with such force Addy was sure he must have broken a tooth.
“Now, let’s proceed,” Lydia said firmly, leading Addy by the hand as they stepped into the vibrant world of Place Cachée. The magical district of Paris was alive with colour and sound, unlike anything Addy had ever seen. Witches and wizards moved about with purpose, some stopping to chat with friends, others hurrying along with parcels and bags. The air was thick with the scents of freshly baked bread, magical potions, and the distinct smell of spellcraft.
Addy’s eyes were wide with wonder as they walked through the streets, her heart pounding with excitement. This was the world she had dreamed of, the world her father had belonged to. And now, it was hers too.
“Flamel,” he squeaked. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Heiress Flamel, Lady Black. It is truly an honour to meet you both. You must excuse my earlier behaviour; if I had known,” he waved off as if signifying there was no changing what was done. “No matter. Please, allow me to escort you both to La Banque des Enchanteurs.” Lydia lifted her head in agreement. With a skip in his step, Mr. Hickinbottom continued down the road. His head held high and proud. Addy looked at her maman, eyes wide at his strange behaviour. Lydia smiled down at her, her amusement shining brightly.
“Est-ce que je peux avoir un animal de compagnie?” (Would I be able to get a pet?) Addy asked as they passed a store with owls in cages and other small creatures on display. She had decided on a kneazle or even half-kneazle, even though her maman had yet to agree. Yet. The name Flamel sounded very familiar, but she lost interest almost instantaneously once the shops came into view.
“On verra” (We shall see), was the standard answer Lydia had given each time something caught Addy’s eye. She knew her daughter had always been inquisitive, but she had only assumed this would lead to Addy collecting as many books and trinkets as Lydia would allow—pets, sweets, brooms. She had not seen that coming, but Sirius lived his life through curious eyes. It would only make sense that his daughter would be the same.
Sirius.
He should have been here for this. Claiming of both heirships. Buying Addy her wand. Teaching her how to ride a broom. Sneaking joke books and sweets when Lydia’s back was turned. Another child would be resting on her hip with the same striking grey eyes.
She felt robbed. For both of them, she felt what should have been. Lydia rubbed at her chest as the emptiness of where the bond should have been gave an excruciating sting. His spirit followed her to the door of La Banque des Enchanteurs. Passing through, she felt the heaviness of his absence stronger than any other day. It was meant to be a momentous occasion but not for the first time did she curse her status. Curse that she was not given the sight and cursed her very existence because even during happy times, she would feel her weakness like a separate ghost that has haunted her since his death.
Sirius.
Lydia focused on the goblins. She was willing herself not to show her ghosts, hoping that her eyes would not betray her. “Zis is where we shall leave you, Mr ‘ickinbottom. And please do let ze ministry know of Adhara’s preferred title.” Her words were brisk, as was her departure from him as she pulled Addy along. The man was left standing in the middle of the entrance, once again gaping at them. Those who passed him sent him annoyed glances, barely hiding their disgust.
La Banque des Enchanteurs was a grandiose structure, rivaling the splendor of Gringotts in Diagon Alley. Its towering facade was adorned with intricate carvings depicting scenes of magical history. The entrance hall was vast, with high ceilings supported by polished marble columns. Enormous crystal chandeliers floated above, casting a warm, enchanting glow. The floor was made of gleaming black and white checkered marble, and the walls were lined with portraits of notable goblin royalty and their fiercest warriors. Goblins were stationed at various points, their beady eyes watching every move.
“Maman, qu'est-ce qui vient de se passer?” (Maman, what just happened?) Addy’s sharp eyes had caught her maman’s dismissal. It was unusual for Lydia to be so curt with someone.
“Politics, ma étoile (my star). You’ll understand once you are older. For now, put it off your mind.”
Addy was ready to press further, but her maman had stopped so suddenly. She looked up to take in her surroundings, instantly regretting it with how close she found herself to the goblin teller. Logically, she knew they wouldn’t do anything to her, but that didn’t stop her from hiding behind her maman. Only slightly, of course. She knew these creatures respected strength. She clutched tighter to her maman. The absolute embodiment of strength and protection even when such creatures as these sneered down at them.
“State your business,” the goblin bit out. His voice was rough and high-pitched at the same time. Addy suppressed a shudder when she noticed a slight growl to his words. Memories of movies did not do the creatures justice.
“‘eiress Flamel 'ere to see ze Flamel account manager. A meeting was made on our behalf by ze ministry.”
“Of course,” the goblin sneered, “if you will follow me.” He disappeared for a second before coming around the towering counter. His short stature doing nothing to make him seem less than threatening.
Following the goblin through the bank, the sight was no less than opulent. The enormous crystal chandeliers glittered as they floated high above their heads. The marble was bright and gleaming. They passed rows of towering desks with goblins perched at each one, either helping a customer or counting out gold coins that could be easily recognized as galleons. There was a smaller stack of silver and bronze on the side of the scale—sickles and knuts. A few would glance in their direction, indifferent to their presence. Past the main counter, where a line was formed, witches and wizards making withdrawals or deposits, was a hallway. The walls were not as tall as the central part of the bank, and the click of maman’s heels echoed with each step.
Every few feet, there was a solid wood door on either side of the hallway. Eight feet, door on the right. Eight feet, door on the left. And so on. Addy grew nervous. Her maman no longer held her hand. She chanced a glance back to where they had started, but they had walked far enough that it was no longer in view. While passing a door, she read the attached plaque, ‘Account Manager Gorefang.’ Addy concluded that this must be where the older, more ancient families dealt with their vaults. This wasn’t in the books or movies, but it made sense, considering how much they most likely accumulated through the centuries. Money, artifacts, heirlooms, investments, heirships, lordships. It wouldn’t be proper to speak of such things in public settings.
At the end of the longer-than-natural hallway was a double door made of solid wood like the other single doors. The goblin led them to it without missing a step, but Addy hesitated. The Blacks were one of the wealthiest and oldest families in Europe, so to be presented with such importance wouldn’t have surprised her if they were here dealing with Black accounts, but they weren’t, hence Addy’s hesitancy. She knew her maman’s family. She had glimpses of memories of her grandparents, and she now knew what the family estate in France was. Before, she had assumed it was somewhere in England. Flamel. She knew that name.
Nicolas Flamel, creator of the Philosopher’s Stone. He aided in the defeat of Grindelwald. Friend to Albus Dumbledore. Lived for centuries; his death being the year she was born. Flamel. The family of alchemists. The creators of the Elixir of Life.
“Oh,” Addy breathed out as both doors opened with a deafening bang. A rush of emotions hit her all at once—surprise, disbelief, and a strange sense of familiarity. She had read about Nicolas Flamel in her past life, fascinated by his achievements and his connection to the magical world. To realize that she was a part of that legacy was overwhelming. Her heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to reconcile her memories of reading about the Flamels with the reality of standing in their ancestral bank.
Another goblin was inside, sitting behind a large marble desk. His small glasses were perched on his great hook nose. For a moment, she wondered if those around her could hear the thunder of her heartbeat. Her entire body became a singular pulse.
“Ah, Heiress Flamel. I am Account Manager Ricbern. I have been wondering when I would see you. Come,” he gestured to the leather seats in front of his desk, “we have much to discuss.”
Addy swallowed hard and took a hesitant step forward. She could feel her maman’s reassuring presence beside her, but the weight of what this meeting meant was pressing heavily on her young shoulders.
“Addy, ma étoile (my star),” Lydia whispered, leaning down to her daughter’s level. “Il est temps d'embrasser ton héritage (It is time to embrace your heritage).” Her voice was soothing, but Addy could hear the underlying tension. This was as important to her maman as it was to her.
They moved towards the desk, and Addy took a deep breath. She had read about the Flamels and their extraordinary achievements. She had always thought of them as distant legends, never realizing they were her own family. Now, sitting in this opulent bank with goblins eyeing them intently, the reality of her lineage settled heavily in her mind.
“Heiresss Flamel, Lady Black,” Ricbern began, addressing them formally. “It has been many years since a member of your esteemed family has visited our establishment. We have maintained the accounts and ensured the security of your family's assets. There are many documents and items that require your attention.”
Lydia nodded, her posture regal. “Merci, Ricbern (Thank you). We appreciate ze diligence and care you 'ave provided to our family’s legacy. As you know, my daughter is ze new ‘eiress Flamel, and we are 'ere to acquaint 'er with 'er responsibilities.”
Ricbern’s sharp eyes narrowed as he shuffled some papers on his desk. “Of course, the Flamels’ assets have been kept in the utmost security, as per our standards. However, it is imperative that you understand the weight of these responsibilities. We do not tolerate negligence or incompetence.”
Addy could sense the goblin's surly nature beneath his formal words. His tone was clipped, and there was an edge to his demeanour that made it clear he had little patience for ignorance or inefficiency. She tried to sit up straighter, determined to show him that she was capable.
“Very well,” Ricbern said, pulling out a thick ledger and a set of keys. “We shall begin with a review of the primary assets and then proceed to the more... esoteric items in your family’s possession.”
As Ricbern spoke, Lydia placed a comforting hand on Addy’s shoulder. “Nous allons découvrir beaucoup de choses aujourd'hui, ma étoile. Mais souviens-toi, tu n'es pas seule (We will discover many things today, my star. But remember, you are not alone).”
Addy nodded, feeling a mix of apprehension and excitement. She was ready to learn about her family, ready to embrace the legacy that had been hidden from her for so long.