"Daphne, were you in the library this morning too?" Lucien's sudden question caught Daphne off guard, instantly reminding her of the embarrassing moment when Madam Pince kicked her out.
No way could she admit it. Admitting it would mean letting Lucien know it was her who had that humiliating experience!
"Ahem, no, absolutely not," she said quickly. "I wasn't feeling well this morning, so I went to the Hospital Wing to get some medicine and then stayed in the Slytherin common room."
Daphne coughed lightly into her fist, as if to emphasize she was still under the weather. To be fair, she had been sick that morning and did visit the Hospital Wing. But Madam Pomfrey's skills were so good that she fixed Daphne up in no time.
Since her roommate had already covered for her by requesting sick leave, Daphne figured there was no need to rush to class. So, with nothing else to do, she wandered to the library and just happened to bump into Lucien.
I mean, when a student finally gets a sick day, who wouldn't take the chance to slack off a bit?
Lucien, however, eyed her suspiciously. It wasn't about whether he believed her or not—it was just that her face was so red. Could it really be a relapse of her illness? She seemed perfectly lively in Transfiguration class earlier.
Tap, tap, tap—
Malfoy finally caught up, hobbling along with his crutch. "Grafton, I—"
He started to speak to Lucien but clammed up when he noticed Daphne Greengrass, the heiress of the Greengrass family, standing there.
Daphne's eyes lit up when she saw who it was. A witness had just delivered himself to her!
"Malfoy," she said brightly, "didn't I take sick leave and skip Flying class this morning?"
"Uh, yeah," Malfoy replied, scratching his bandaged head in confusion. "Your roommate said you were out sick."
Daphne pressed on. "And when I went back to the Slytherin common room afterward, didn't we run into each other? Remember?"
Malfoy was utterly baffled. He wanted to say, Mate, I was hyped for Flying class this morning—how would I have noticed you?
"I don't—"
He barely got the word out before Daphne shot him a subtle glare, her eyes practically screaming, Nod, now!
For some reason, Malfoy recalled his father's advice: Never cross someone stronger than you. Unlike some families that had to grovel to get by, the Greengrasses were a powerhouse, with wealth and influence—case in point, they'd controlled the Ministry's Department of Magical Transportation for ages.
Passive talent: Going with the flow, activated!
Malfoy nodded quickly. "Right, yeah, I saw you when I was heading out. Hope you feel better soon, Daphne."
Lucien watched the scene unfold, feeling like he'd stepped into some bizarre alternate reality. A kid wrapped in bandages and hobbling on a crutch was wishing a perfectly "rosy-cheeked" girl a speedy recovery?
Slytherins were weird. Pureblood nobility was weird.
Would hanging out with them too much make him weird too?
"Love chatting with you guys, but Professor McGonagall needs me for something, so I've gotta run!" Lucien said, making a quick exit.
---
Inside Professor McGonagall's office, Lucien took a moment to look around. One wall was lined with a bookshelf stuffed with tomes, mostly about Transfiguration—high-level spellbooks and research papers by wizards. Another wall held a rack displaying all sorts of trinkets: intricate metal crafts, complex mechanical devices, and colorful gemstones.
Lucien figured these were likely props for practicing Transfiguration, used to analyze material properties and expand the spell's applications.
Merlin's beard, he thought, how many professors' offices have I visited already, and it's only been a few days since term started? A check-in enthusiast would be thrilled.
"So, Lucien, how are you settling in at Hogwarts?" Professor McGonagall asked, her tone far warmer than the stern demeanor she used in class.
Lucien flashed a genuine smile. "Thank you for asking, Professor. I think Hogwarts is amazing. There's magic everywhere, and so much knowledge I've never encountered before. My classmates are friendly, the teachers are brilliant, and I feel like I'm learning something new every day."
McGonagall nodded, clearly pleased by his enthusiasm. "Good, good. I was worried you might find it hard to adjust, stepping into the wizarding world so suddenly."
"Any questions about Transfiguration lately?" she added.
Lucien thought for a moment. Oh, where do I start? But his most immediate goal was clear: prepare for that Transfiguration pocket watch project and master semi-permanent Conjuration.
No classes later, so maybe he'd head to Hagrid's to test the watch's effects and check on his cabbages.
"Professor, I'm really interested in semi-permanent Conjuration, but I'm not sure where to begin," he said.
McGonagall waved her hand, and a few books, along with a single research paper, floated down from the shelf. Lucien glanced at the titles—all about Conjuration—but the paper's authors caught his eye:
Albus Dumbledore & Nicolas Flamel.
His jaw nearly dropped. Dumbledore and the legendary alchemist who created the Philosopher's Stone? This paper wasn't just about Transfiguration—it likely touched on Alchemy too. Maybe it was even a byproduct of their research on the Stone.
"Professor, Nicolas Flamel—the Nicolas Flamel, the one who made the Philosopher's Stone? This paper…?" Lucien asked, barely containing his excitement.
McGonagall nodded. "Yes, the very same. This paper focuses on semi-permanent Conjuration in Transfiguration, supported by Alchemical principles and techniques."
Lucien's heart raced. He'd been frustrated by the lack of Alchemy resources at Hogwarts—since it was an elective only for older students, and the library's collection was sparse. He suspected the Restricted Section might hold some secrets, but that was off-limits for now.
"Thank you, Professor. I'll study these thoroughly," he promised.
They chatted a bit longer, and as Lucien prepared to leave, McGonagall gave him a playful smile. "Lucien, studying hard is wonderful, of course. But you could also take some time to relax with your friends. Maybe take a walk by the Black Lake?"
Lucien felt a flush of embarrassment. So she overheard that, huh? Sure, he went for walks sometimes—just, you know, in the Forbidden Forest.
"You'll be at Hogwarts for seven years, Lucien," McGonagall continued. "You're here to learn, but also to grow. I hope every young witch and wizard leaves this school with both knowledge and joy."
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