Jonathan Ward from Ilvermorny and Viktor Koldovstoretz from Durmstrang joined Rowan on the platform for third and fourth place. Viktor looked sour, still clearly bitter about his semifinal loss. Ward grinned and gave Rowan a thumbs-up.
Rowan received his silver medal first, the metal cool and lighter than he'd expected, inscribed with runes that seemed to shift in the light. Apolline's gold medal was placed around her neck to thunderous French applause.
The crowd cheered for both of them, and Rowan forced himself to clap for Apolline's victory.
He'd proven himself on an international stage. Shown that a Muggleborn orphan could compete with the best. And he'd learned a valuable lesson about resource management and strategic thinking. Apolline had been smarter about conserving her strength, and that had made the difference.
The sting of defeat would fade. What wouldn't fade was the opportunity it had created. He'd earned the attention of Nicholas Flamel.
The medal ceremony concluded, and Rowan made his way through the congratulating crowd toward the diplomatic viewing box Perenelle had mentioned. The Hogwarts team tried to mob him, but Professor Hecat held them back.
"Mr. Ashcroft has been summoned by the Flamels," she said quietly to the team. "This is an extraordinary honor. Let him go."
Rowan climbed the stairs to the upper level where private boxes overlooked the arena. A guard checked his credentials, then allowed him into a luxuriously appointed room with plush furniture and large windows providing a perfect view of the tournament grounds.
Two people waited inside.
Perenelle Flamel sat in an elegant chair, and beside her stood a man who could only be Nicholas Flamel himself.
He appeared to be in his seventies. White hair and beard, lined face, but eyes that burned with fierce intelligence. Despite his apparent age, he moved with energy and grace, crossing the room to shake Rowan's hand with a grip that was surprisingly strong.
"Mr. Ashcroft! Wonderful to meet you. Absolutely wonderful. I haven't seen dueling of that caliber from someone your age in... well, in several centuries, actually." His English was perfect but carried a faint French accent. "Please, sit. Would you like some tea? Wine? You're a bit young for wine, perhaps. Tea then."
He was already pouring before Rowan could respond, his movements quick and precise. Perenelle watched with an amused expression, clearly accustomed to her husband's enthusiasm.
"Thank you for inviting me," Rowan said, accepting the tea cup. "It's an honor to meet you both."
"The honor is ours," Nicholas replied, settling into a chair across from Rowan. "Watching you duel was fascinating. Your tactical thinking, your adaptation to unfamiliar spells, your enhancement techniques. All quite remarkable. But what truly interested me was your mental discipline. The way you pushed through that lightning strike suggested training that goes beyond standard magical education."
"I practice Occlumency. I've found it invaluable for maintaining focus under pressure."
"At eleven?" Nicholas's eyes gleamed with interest. "Self-taught, Perenelle mentioned?"
"Yes, sir. I found a book on the subject and practiced it daily."
"And what else have you been studying that isn't in your year's curriculum?" Perenelle asked, her tone curious rather than accusatory.
Rowan considered how much to reveal. The Flamels were legends, yes, but they were also strangers. Still, Perenelle's invitation suggested genuine interest, and Nicholas's reputation was impeccable.
"Advanced Charms, combat Transfiguration, enhancement spells, some theory on spell modification, and the basics of Ancient Runes," Rowan listed. "I'm also interested in alchemy, though I haven't found many accessible texts on the subject."
Nicholas and Perenelle exchanged a look, some wordless communication passing between them.
"You're ambitious," Nicholas observed. "That's admirable. But also potentially dangerous at your age. Spell modification, in particular, can go catastrophically wrong without proper guidance."
"I'm careful, sir. I test everything extensively, document my results, and never attempt modifications beyond my theoretical understanding."
"Still, having a mentor would be wise." Nicholas leaned forward. "Tell me, Mr. Ashcroft. What do you plan to do with all this knowledge you're accumulating? What's driving you to push so hard at such a young age?"
This was the moment. Rowan could give a safe, modest answer. Or he could be honest and risk seeming presumptuous or overly ambitious.
He chose honesty.
"I plan to change the wizarding world, sir. Make it better, more just, more innovative. I see stagnation and prejudice holding back magical society. I see potential being wasted because of archaic attitudes about blood status. I intend to modernize our world, to bring the same rapid advancement that's happening in Muggle society to magical Britain."
Silence fell. Rowan half-expected them to laugh or dismiss his ambitions as childish fantasy.
Then Nicholas laughed. A genuine, delighted sound. "Ambition indeed! Most eleven-year-olds dream about Quidditchf or sweets. You're planning to revolutionize wizarding society!"
"I am," Rowan said simply. "I know it sounds presumptuous—"
"It's refreshing," Perenelle interrupted. "Too many young wizards lack vision. They accept the world as it is rather than imagining what it could be." She smiled. "Though you should know that changing established society is extraordinarily difficult. The resistance you'll face from pure-blood families and ministries will be immense."
"I'm aware. That's why I'm building my skills and knowledge now. I need to be undeniably competent, powerful enough that I can't be dismissed or marginalized."
"And what specifically do you intend to change?" Nicholas asked, his tone serious now.
"Blood prejudice, primarily. The way Muggleborns are treated, the barriers we face, the automatic assumption that ancient families produce superior wizards." Rowan met his eyes. "I also want to bring innovation to magical society. Applying magical solutions to everyday problems the way Muggles do with technology. Combine magical theory with practical application to improve quality of life."
"Like magitech," Nicholas said thoughtfully. "Magical devices that serve everyday functions. An interesting concept."
"Exactly. I've already been considering various applications. Improved communication methods, preservation charms for food storage, household automation using runes and charms."
Nicholas and Perenelle exchanged another look, this one longer.
"Rowan," Nicholas said, using his first name now, Rowan noted, "what we're about to offer is quite irregular. We don't normally take students, certainly not ones as young as you. But Perenelle and I have been discussing it since watching your match, and we both agreed."
He paused for effect. "How would you like to spend your summer with us? Not as a formal apprentice. You're too young for that, and we're too old to take on full apprentices. But as a student. We could teach you alchemy, advanced theory, or provide guidance on your various studies. And perhaps more importantly, we could offer perspective on navigating magical society from people who've been doing it for centuries."
Rowan's mind reeled.
Spend the summer with Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel? Learn alchemy from the greatest alchemist who'd ever lived? Gain insights from people who'd witnessed centuries of magical history?
It was an opportunity beyond anything he'd dared hope for.
"I would be honored," he managed. "But I should mention. I'm an orphan, sir. I have no family to approve such an arrangement, and I typically remain at Hogwarts during holidays because I have nowhere else to go."
"Even better," Nicholas said cheerfully. "No bureaucratic complications with guardian permissions. We'll arrange it with Headmistress Mole directly. You'll stay with us at our home outside Paris. We'll provide accommodations, books, materials, everything you need."
"Why?" Rowan asked, needing to understand. "I'm grateful, but why make such an offer to someone you just met?"
Perenelle answered this time, her voice gentle but serious. "Because we see potential in you, Rowan. True potential. Not only magical power. There are plenty of powerful wizards. But vision. Intelligence. The drive to actually accomplish something meaningful with your abilities rather than simply accumulating them. That's rare at any age, and precious when we find it."
"Also," Nicholas added with a grin, "you're interesting. We've lived a very long time, Rowan. Interesting people are valuable simply by virtue of not being boring. And watching you duel? Definitely not boring."
Rowan couldn't help but smile. "Then I accept gratefully. Thank you both."
"Excellent!" Nicholas clapped his hands together. "Now, tell me about these enhancement spells you used. I noticed you overcharged the mental acceleration at the end. Risky but effective. Where did you learn that technique? And have you considered the potential long-term effects on your magical core from repeated overcharging?"
They spent the next two hours in deep discussion about magical theory, spell mechanics, and the intricacies of enhancement magic. Nicholas was endlessly curious, asking probing questions about Rowan's techniques and offering insights drawn from centuries of experience. Perenelle contributed observations about the mental disciplines required for advanced magic, and Rowan found himself discussing Occlumency at a level of sophistication he'd never reached even with Iris.
When he finally left to rejoin the Hogwarts team, his mind was buzzing with new ideas and his summer suddenly promised to be the most educational experience of his life.