June 21. With her finalized report ready to be handed in to the Bab-I Humayun, at dawn, she packs her items into her horse pocket but, unlike the previous 4 days, she dons what was her everyday uniform.

  "Merci pour tout!" (Thanks for everything!) Nurcan tells the ducal family before she leaves Versailles behind, using one of the city's Floo Network connections, right inside the Duke of Trefle-Picques' country home.

  Vincent then gives her Bz20, which is seemingly enough to pay for another year's worth of books and supplies.

  Yes, there were some smart witches her age during my time at Beauxbatons. But Nurcan was something else altogether, Vincent starts sobbing when he sees Nurcan light up the fireplace and then empty her final scoop of Floo powder as she returns to Place Cachée.

  Once back at the Barrière de la Ferme Générale, after exiting the Métro-Floo station, Nurcan is reminded of when she first came here to get to échange Scolaire Officielle: Tournez à droite et continuez sur Malabête jusqu'à l'Allée Vation. Ce sera sur votre gauche!

  As she makes her way to échange Scolaire Officielle, she will find that the atmosphere is quite different in Place Cachée compared to her last trip. She can feel like it's much more crowded, and that a lot of wizards stay within the confines of the neighborhood because they feel the Muggle world has become too dangerous for some of them.

  But this time around, she goes to the floor for outbound students, manned by the same clerk as at intake in late August. It seems like this place takes up a lot of space for what it really does, she keeps to herself.

  "Nurcan Topkara..." the clerk calls on her.

  She presents her report card as well as other documents for her return home, such as the post-exchange report she must submit to the Bab-I Humayun, of which the clerk doesn't understand anything since it's in Turkic.

  Now that she's given the all-clear to leave, she scours the district for more Floo powder to buy, having exhausted her supply just to get to Place Cachée. Here a scoop costs her 10 centimes each.

  So she buys an additional six scoops with some of the loose change, earned with tutoring in Arithmancy and History of Magic, ideally enough to last her a year.

  With these new scoops of Floo Powder, she returns to the Métro-Floo station, near the Barrière de la Ferme Générale. And, of course, return to Sihirli Mahalle through it.

  Upon returning to Sihirli Mahalle, some people who met her previously want to catch up with her:

  "Miss Irad-i Cedid!" Taalia exclaims upon seeing Nurcan for the first time in several months. "How has it been?"

  "Why am I called Miss Irad-i Cedid?"

  "Rumor has it that the Muggle Sultan agreed to wizarding assistance in his reforms, to the extent that it can be done without breaking the Statute of Secrecy. However, in return, the wizards requested their tax reform plan be implemented, and you're the only witch I know who could have designed one!" Taalia gets her up to speed on the goings-on behind the Sublime Porte.

  "Really? You think no other wizard would have recommended, say, fighting abuses of iltizam, muafiyets, or even seizing the timars of intestate or convicted timariots?"

  Taalia brandishes the June 17 issue of the Sihirli Gasitesi, the Turkic-language wizarding newspaper, containing more details of the Irad-i Cedid as proposed to the Sultan.

  Nurcan looks at that issue's headline: The wizards' tax reform plan is being considered by Selim III.

  She then starts looking for indications that her plan was used by the Bab-I Humayun to negotiate with the Muggle Sultan. Looks like they pushed for my initial plan with the biggest changes being rates! And Selim III? When was he crowned? All I can make out is that he was crowned when I was in France; my travel documents bore the tughra of his predecessor, Abdulhamid I!

  "I spent the whole school year in France; when was Selim III crowned?" Nurcan asks Taalia in full view of other onlookers.

  "About two and a half months ago!" Taalia answers Nurcan, who's clearly off the loop.

  "He inherited an empire in a poor condition, but never did I imagine that he would resort to wizarding help to get the Empire back on track!"

  "The Muggle government created their mess; they must clean it up without wizarding intervention!" Hamza interjects from behind the two girls. "Wizards have better things to do!"

  At this point, more people seem willing to ask questions about the Irad-I Cedid, more than about her time at Beauxbatons, or her time at the Muggle Estates-General in Versailles. On the latter point, she keeps quiet, especially when she realizes that the Ottoman wizarding community seemingly anointed her... a prodigy of public policy.

  "OK, Miss Irad-I Cedid, you must understand that wizards historically had little interest in statecraft..." another passer-by, overhearing Nurcan talking about the Irad-I Cedid, comments a little sardonically.

  "It all seems so sudden. Until Selim III was crowned, the Muggle government seemed content to leave wizards to their own devices. But the same arithmancy that made me draft the Irad-I Cedid predicted..." Nurcan is interrupted by Taalia.

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  "What did you predict anyway?" Taalia asks.

  "I could talk about the French Estates-General, and what I took away from the few days I spent there, but I don't think you'd like to hear about the implications..." Nurcan sighs, while making her way to hand in the final reports, expense and exchange.

  "I do, but only as I would a diviner's predictions..."

  "The King will no longer have absolute control over the state, and France's neighbors will start panicking, causing years of troubles, both internally and externally!"

  And, of course, feeling like she just wants to get the exchange's paperwork over with, she makes it quick before she goes to Gringotts to exchange her remaining bezants into tryrinats.

  With which she would go around buying a quire of paper (25 sheets), believing that she has enough of one to write about her experiences at the Estates-General, how she came to predict their length as well as their failure as Estates-General along with what she feels are the cause of their failure.

  Yet, she still has enough tryrinats to buy herself the books and other supplies for her third year at Karakalem.

  And, of course, the implications for France, as well as outside of France. Especially the Serment du Jeu de Paume, sworn by the Assemblée Nationale the day before she left that country.

  My parents are barely literate or numerate, I don't think they'd understand anything about French Muggle politics, nor arithmancy. So I think they'll still believe me to be a spy trainee, she starts thinking as she returns to the city's Floo Network station to return home, where she'll get to spend the rest of the summer to reflect on this year on exchange.

  Luckily, her home family in a mountain village puts her away from the crowd of wizards; she was unable to spend much time among wizards without being questioned about the Irad-i Cedid.

  "Oh Nurcan; we were worried about whether you'd survive your mission as a spy trainee!" her mom then hugs her.

  "Yeah, I always imagined spy trainees to be used for short-term stuff, not missions that could take almost a year!" Her dad comments.

  "I'm not allowed to talk about the inner workings of my mission!" Nurcan tries to play along with her parents' charade that she's a spy trainee.

  Thank goodness that my parents don't understand anything about why I spent weeks trying to get a cahier de doléances for me to copy by magic, or even what these were, much less their role at the Estates-General! They live a far simpler life, Nurcan then returns to her room, and places her magical implements underneath her bed. Horse pocket, wand, collapsible cauldron, school uniforms. However, she can use a self-inking quill without drawing the ire of the Bab-I Humayun.

  However, here she writes her memoirs on this whole adventure, starting with a preamble on the basics of the Estates-General, as well as the situation that led France to convene them. Then, how she prepared to get to Visigny's cahier, along with the key grievances of all 3 estates. And it's after this section she feels like adding in these infamous predictions of how long and how (in)effective they were going to be that got her hexed at Beauxbatons.

  But between her household obligations, and writing the earlier sections, she takes weeks to get to the Irad-I Cedid (the version with modified rates as presented to the Sultan by the Ministry of Magic) and her experience of the late stages of the Estates-General. About the size of the straitjacket the Statute of Secrecy put on any attempt to get the wizarding world closer to the Muggle one.

  Yet, as she finalizes her memoir, which she tentatively calls The Rise of Miss Irad-I Cedid: Echoes of the French Estates-General, on July 14, she plans to get to Sihirli Mahalle in the wee hours of the morning.

  In the Muggle world, I'm just a lower-class girl. But, in the wizarding world, I'm Miss Irad-I Cedid, a public policy prodigy. Here's my chance to capitalize on my newfound fame in the wizarding world, she thinks while using a scoop of Floo powder to get to Sihirli Mahalle, and get to Kitap Ayraci's publishing arm, so that she can submit the manuscript.

  But even when wearing her everyday Muggle clothing, at Sihirli Mahalle, people still recognize her, asking for various favors, a lot of which have to do with divination, and even going so far as to gift her a second-hand crystal ball to get these favors done.

  Nevertheless, the manuscript appears to be readily accepted for publication, with relatively minor changes for language, and so Nurcan would start earning a few tryrinats from the royalties of The Rise of Miss Irad-I Cedid.

  Trasmoz, Aragon, Spain. Alejandra feels a little… down. Her parents could tell that she has been uncomfortable for weeks, but never attempted to ask her as to why, until July 14. After a few attempts, her parents start losing patience towards her:

  “?No te puedo contar la historia completa!” (I can’t tell you the whole story!) Alejandra retorts, seeing her mom’s face turn red.

  “?Por qué?” (Why?) her mom asks.

  “?Es demasiado peligroso para mi!” (It’s too dangerous for me!)

  “?Se trata de tu magia?” (Is it about your magic?)

  “?No!” Alejandra yells at her mom. “?El Santo Oficio me arrestará si te lo digo!” (The Holy Office will arrest me if I told you!)

  Alejandra’s mother steps away from her, causing her to dive deep in thought. The Santo Oficio (Inquisition) isn’t interested in wizard hunting; they’re interested in heresy. However, I’m not just about any ilustrada, my positions would brand me as a heretical afrancesada, especially since I understood better than everyone else at Beauxbatons, outside of Nurcan, what the cahiers actually imply. While the others at Beauxbatons were preoccupied with perfecting magic, both Nurcan and I realized the cahiers were the signs of the end of the old-world order as we know it, with hunger, corruption and injustice as the causes. And wizards are woefully unprepared for the new one, in which they can no longer hide themselves from Muggle social issues. That makes me a nightmare for Floridablanca’s Cordón Sanitario. Even when we’re both powerless to fix any of the issues, she’d likely see French Muggle society as beyond fixing, but I’m sure that we can agree on there being no guarantee that the replacement regime will be any better than the old one. After all, she’s the only one whom I can consider my peer.

  Meanwhile, in Paris, the city's population is preparing to lay siege to the Bastille, after having assaulted the Barrière de la Ferme Générale's gates in the past few days. With most gates falling in short order thanks to them not being designed for siege warfare.

  Even with the capture of the H?tel des Invalides' arsenal, they don't feel confident in their ability to defend themselves against the mercenary forces massed around the city. Especially given their lack of ammunition, which is purported to be stored in the Bastille. A Bastille that symbolized royal tyranny for generations of Parisians and only houses seven inmates that day.

  By late afternoon, the Bastille falls, and it becomes the symbol of the end of the first phase of what will later be known as the French Revolution. The point where the revolutionaries escalate, and the crisis becomes a full-scale insurgency.