The sky was just beginning to lighten.
Near a clearing in the Forbidden Forest, Lucien let out a long yawn and stretched lazily. He pulled out a notebook stuffed with papers and flipped through the results of last night's work.
The physical traits and habits of the Mooncalf were all documented. Lucien submitted the notes to the system, officially completing the record for one magical creature. Just four more to go, and he'd pay off that pet growth loan.
Oh, and he'd also collected a bag of Mooncalf dung—perfect for fertilizing his Biting Cabbages.
"Luster?" Lucien called out.
At his summon, a faint golden figure swooped down from the clouds, landing gracefully beside him.
"Find anything good to eat?" Lucien asked, ruffling the qilin's forehead.
"Yep, Master! I found loads of veggies at the edge of the forest!" Luster's voice chirped in Lucien's mind. "Yellow ones, red ones, green ones—they all had different flavors, some sweet, some tangy…"
Lucien nodded, impressed. The Forbidden Forest was a treasure trove, apparently, with so many plants that a young qilin like Luster loved. Looked like he could let Luster forage here on its own in the future.
"Oh, right, Master," Luster continued, "I also ran into this… um, black, furry thing. I think it's called a 'dog'? It looked like it wanted to bark when it saw me, but after I gave it a glance, it started trembling. Seemed like a real scaredy-cat!"
A black dog? Timid? At the edge of the forest where there were lots of veggies?
Lucien's sleepy haze vanished. Wait a minute. The edge of the forest, full of vegetables, with a timid black dog? That sounded an awful lot like…
Hagrid's garden!
Had Luster been munching on Hagrid's crops?
Oh, Merlin's socks. If that was true, he'd need to apologize to Hagrid.
Wait! His Biting Cabbages!
"Luster," Lucien said urgently, "when you were, uh, 'absorbing the essence' of those plants, did you touch any small sprouts with little mouth-like openings at the top?"
Sensing its master's panic, Luster quickly replied, "No, no! Those sprouts were too tiny, barely had any plant essence. I left them alone."
Lucien sighed in relief, but then gave a wry smile. If Luster had seen his Biting Cabbage sprouts, that confirmed it—the qilin had definitely raided Hagrid's garden buffet.
"Master, did I do something bad?" Luster asked cautiously, peering at Lucien.
Lucien waved it off, shaking his head. "No, it's my fault. I forgot to tell you the rules. Don't worry, I'll handle it. As they say, 'If the child errs, it's the parent's fault.'"
"Master, what's 'If the child errs, it's the parent's fault' mean?" Luster asked, its innocent curiosity untouched by the ways of the world.
Lucien chuckled, resolving to start Luster's education ASAP. But for now, he needed to get to Hagrid's. The clearing was a bit far from the forest's edge—maybe half an hour's walk. Better hurry.
His gaze drifted to Luster, whose frame was just a tad smaller than a fine horse.
A few seconds later, a golden streak shot into the sky.
Luster, carrying Lucien on its back, soared toward the clouds. Lucien's dark golden hair whipped wildly in the wind, but he felt exhilaratingly free.
This was way better than some rickety old broomstick. Nimbus 2000? 3000? Eat my qilin's magical cloud trail!
The sun rose, bathing Lucien in golden light as he stood atop the clouds, riding a qilin through the boundless sky.
"Hahahaha!" Lucien let out a rare, unrestrained laugh, the exhaustion of the previous night swept away.
A line of poetry popped into his head, and with the qilin's ethereal hum in the background, Lucien's clear, spirited voice rang out across the clouds:
"When the great wind rises—"
---
In the Headmaster's office, Dumbledore and Snape sat across from a pale-faced man with long, pale blonde hair—Lucius Malfoy. His grey eyes simmered with suppressed anger.
"Dumbledore, Snape," Lucius said coldly, "I'd like an explanation. Why is it that my son, Draco, was injured in Flying class—multiple fractures, mind you—and the culprit, Harry Potter, gets off with being labeled as an 'accidental injury'?"
Dumbledore adjusted his spectacles, speaking calmly. "Lucius, I understand your concern for Draco and your frustration with us. It was indeed a failure on our part as educators. Draco received prompt treatment, and Harry has been disciplined appropriately—"
Lucius cut him off. "Appropriately? A week of detention and copying school rules ten times? That's what you call discipline? Someone who dares to misuse potions and harm a fellow student should be expelled from Hogwarts!"
Snape's brow twitched almost imperceptibly. "Harry Potter's actions were deplorable, of course. I proposed those punishments myself, but—"
The argument dragged on, with Lucius demanding harsher consequences for Harry while Dumbledore and Snape tried to smooth things over.
Suddenly, a faint, distant sound drifted into the office. It was too far to make out clearly, but all three men felt its extraordinary, almost otherworldly quality. They fell silent.
After a moment, Lucius spoke again, his voice firm. "If this happens again, I will ensure Harry Potter leaves Hogwarts."
With that, he stood and stormed out. He'd known from the start that not only Dumbledore but even Snape, the Head of Slytherin, was protecting that boy.
Arguing with them for so long was simply to make his stance clear: the Malfoy family was not to be trifled with.
Dumbledore glanced at Snape, nodding slightly to suggest he follow and placate the school governor.
When Snape stepped out, he found Lucius already waiting, as if he'd anticipated it. "Lucius, about this matter—"
Lucius raised a hand, cutting him off, and pulled a small crystal vial from his robes. Inside was a translucent, slightly viscous liquid that glowed faintly.
"Severus, take a look at this," Lucius said.
Snape took the vial, opened it, and sniffed lightly. "Qilin saliva?" His tone betrayed surprise. He hadn't expected Lucius to produce something so rare—worth at least 500 Galleons, and even then, it was nearly impossible to find without special connections.
"Exactly," Lucius said. "The secretion of that unique Eastern magical creature. Its healing properties are remarkable, especially when brewed into a potion. But only a true Potions Master can handle such an ingredient, wouldn't you agree, Severus?"
Snape nodded, catching the implication. "I can brew the potion, but Draco's injuries are nearly healed. You know the capabilities of Hogwarts' Hospital Wing."
Lucius shook his head. "Qilin saliva can heal hidden injuries, ensuring no lingering effects. Only a potion of this caliber is worthy of a Malfoy heir."
He didn't say it outright, but the remaining qilin saliva was clearly payment for Snape's services. Lucius trusted that a man as sharp as Snape would understand—and that no Potions Master could resist such a rare ingredient.
Snape, long accustomed to the arrogance of purebloods, wasn't fazed. Wealth, glory, power—it was all just a way for them to reinforce their sense of superiority.
---
Back in his office, Dumbledore rubbed his temples and pulled a letter from his drawer—a reply from Newt Scamander. Glancing at its contents, he turned to the phoenix preening its feathers on its perch.
"Fawkes," he said softly, "could you fetch a student for me? His name is Lucien Grafton."