Tom paid no attention to the turmoil raging outside.
On the third day, after handing the final batch of goods to Amelia Bones, it was time for him to depart.
"Stay home and listen to your mother. Don't lose your wand again. When I come back, I'm checking your homework. Understood?"
The only person who made him this worried was Daphne.
The young witch nodded at first, then immediately threw herself at Tom's arm, her face full of reluctant pleading. "Can't you take me with you? I'll be very obedient."
Tom sighed helplessly. "I'm going for work, not sightseeing. I won't have time to play with you. You won't know anyone there. You'll be bored every day. And if you leave, what about Astoria?"
"Then I'll go too," Astoria blinked her big eyes. "I'll keep an eye on my sister."
The logic sounded slightly questionable, but Daphne nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly! Just take us both."
"Spare me, please."
Tom raised his hands in surrender. "I just came back for the holidays and already I'm packing both of you off with me? Your mother would never forgive me."
"Didn't we agree? When I return, I'll take you to France to visit Nicolas."
After considerable effort, he finally coaxed the two sisters into good spirits and sent them back to the Greengrass estate. He then had lunch at the Granger household, enjoyed afternoon tea at a café with Cho, and only then set off.
For France.
Tom had refined time management to an art form.
The reason he was not bringing Daphne, Astoria, or Hermione to North America was simple. This trip, he was taking Fleur.
As for bringing Daphne and Astoria to visit Nicolas without triggering a battlefield of emotions, that was because in August, Fleur and Gabrielle would be traveling to the Vosges Mountains to visit their grandmother.
Both sides had been arranged flawlessly.
Absolutely no risk of divine punishment.
Upon arriving in France, Tom went straight to Nicolas Flamel's residence and dumped the materials he had prepared in one enormous pile before him.
Seeing the mountain of resources meant for producing WhatsApp, Nicolas's heartbeat quickened. He turned to Tom.
"Are you trying to exhaust me to death so you can inherit my estate sooner?"
"The capable should shoulder more work." Tom smiled modestly. "I'm not demanding a quota. Produce however much you feel like. The more we have, the faster we can promote it."
"Oh, and you might want to invent some auxiliary tools. Simplify repetitive steps and hand them over to apprentices."
Alchemy could never be fully automated. Each piece required the creator to inject their own "thought," something akin to awakening a spirit. Without that personal imprint, the artifact would never fully activate. No machine could replace that.
But fixed rune carving, parchment assembly, and similar repetitive steps could absolutely be streamlined into a production line.
After listening to Tom's suggestions, Nicolas finally snapped. He raised his modified mechanical fist and punched Tom squarely in the shoulder.
"You dump everything on this old man while you go off traveling with your little girlfriend?"
"I have other research to handle," Tom protested loudly. "This is called maximizing inspiration. Besides, you're not exactly bursting with new ideas lately. If I don't assign it to you, who should I assign it to?"
"Oh?" Nicolas's eyes lit up. "What have you created now?"
Tom briefly explained his recent projects. Nicolas nodded slowly.
"Very convenient indeed. Fine. You pass this time."
Tom grinned. "Then I'm off. Fleur's waiting for me at home."
"Go already. The sight of you annoys me."
Nicolas waved him away impatiently. Tom did not mind in the slightest. He even slipped into the materials room and quietly pocketed a few extra items before strolling leisurely out of the estate.
...
The next day.
Under Gabrielle's tearful gaze, Tom and Fleur boarded a flight to America. After eight hours in the air, they landed at JFK Airport.
It was Fleur's first time in North America. She carried a spark of curiosity.
But when they reached the city center, her delicate nose wrinkled and her brows knit together.
"This is the most prosperous Muggle city? Why is it so dirty?"
Tom snapped his fingers, sealing off unpleasant odors within a five meter radius. Only then did she dare breathe normally.
"Perfectly normal. Many major cities look glamorous on the surface. The filth in the corners goes unnoticed. Not just here. Some districts in Paris aren't any better, are they?"
Fleur nodded in agreement.
Beyond the tenth arrondissement, large areas of Paris had changed drastically. She complained softly, recalling how those streets had once been clean and bright during her childhood. She did not know when everything had shifted. Now she would never consider venturing far from the city's core.
"This is nothing…"
Tom listened to her reminiscing and kept his thoughts to himself.
Give it a few decades and even the Germans will become minorities. Gaul itself will change beyond recognition. Even the famed Seine will…
No. Better not.
He quickly pulled his thoughts back before disgusting himself.
Leading Fleur forward, he took a single step and they appeared before Newt's home.
The iron gate opened automatically. Tom walked straight in.
"Aren't we supposed to wait for someone to open the door?" Fleur asked, startled. "Isn't this rude?"
"It's fine. Uncle Newt and Aunt Tina gave me permission. If I showed up like a guest and waited outside, they'd be upset."
That reassured her.
They passed through a secluded winding path and approached a villa embraced by flowers. Tom reached out and pressed the doorbell.
Moments later, the door opened.
Tom broke into a radiant smile and stepped forward to embrace the elderly woman.
"Aunt Tina, I've missed you to death!"