"…So, Hagrid, that's the gist of it."
After hearing Lucien's explanation, Hagrid let out a hearty chuckle. "No need to apologize, mate," he said warmly.
"By the way, how're those veggies I planted? Your little pet like 'em?"
Lucien was getting used to Hagrid's peculiar way of thinking. The half-giant's first concern was whether the vegetables were tasty—his straightforward kindness never failed to make Lucien feel a bit sheepish.
"Er, yeah, it loves them. Says they've got a great flavor," Lucien replied.
Hagrid beamed. "Good, good! Where's your pet at, anyway? Haven't seen it around."
Lucien answered casually, "Oh, it's still playing around in the Forbidden Forest."
Hagrid nodded but added a warning, "Well, tell it to be careful. There's some dangerous critters in there."
Lucien thanked him, though he wasn't too worried about his little qilin. With its terrifyingly powerful purifying flames and ability to Apparate freely, he was more concerned it might accidentally set the Forbidden Forest ablaze. Good thing qilins were vegetarian, living off dew and the essence of plants—otherwise, the forest's creatures might've become an all-you-can-eat buffet.
As they chatted, Lucien absentmindedly petted Fang's head. Oddly, Fang—who'd kept his distance during Lucien's earlier visits—was now nuzzling up for attention. Was it because Lucien had been coming to Hagrid's more often and they'd gotten familiar? Or… had something changed about him recently?
Whoosh!
A crimson fireball flared up beside Hagrid's hut, and out flew a majestic red bird.
"Fawkes!" Hagrid called out, recognizing the phoenix instantly.
Lucien's thoughts snapped to the legendary bird. According to Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, phoenixes were incredibly rare. Rumor had it the Dumbledore family had a deep connection with them, with a phoenix appearing whenever a family member needed aid. So, this was Dumbledore's phoenix. Quite the flashy entrance.
Hagrid assumed Fawkes was there for him and extended his arm to let the bird land. But Fawkes ignored him, soaring straight toward Lucien and hovering gracefully in front of the boy.
It was here for him?
Instinctively, Lucien held out his arm, and Fawkes perched delicately on it. Surprisingly light for its size—maybe it was all feathers and not as hefty as it looked?
Once settled, Fawkes nuzzled Lucien's hair affectionately, like an old friend.
"Er, Hagrid, what's this about?" Lucien asked, puzzled.
Hagrid scratched his tangled hair. "Reckon Dumbledore's got something to talk to you about, so he sent Fawkes to fetch ya. But I've never seen a phoenix act this friendly before."
"Oh, and about how Fawkes travels—"
Before Hagrid could finish, flames erupted around Fawkes, engulfing both the bird and Lucien. In a blink, Lucien found himself standing in the Headmaster's office.
"Good morning, Lucien," greeted a white-bearded man with half-moon spectacles.
"Good morning, Professor Dumbledore," Lucien replied.
Fawkes, still perched on his arm, started preening Lucien's hair with its beak.
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with surprise. He'd never seen Fawkes act so chummy with anyone else. "Well, it seems Fawkes has taken quite a liking to you," he chuckled. "Go on, old friend, take a rest. I'd like a word with this young wizard."
But Fawkes ignored him, continuing to fuss over Lucien's hair. Dumbledore looked mildly embarrassed until Lucien gently patted the phoenix, coaxing it to reluctantly fly off.
Lucien was stumped. Why was Fawkes so friendly? And Fang, too—it wasn't just about familiarity. It felt like a sudden shift. Maybe it was because of him—something new about him. Could it be tied to the qilin's awakening? Or perhaps, as the qilin's master, he'd developed some trait that magical creatures could sense?
Maybe when the qilin was asleep in the system space or still in its juvenile phase, the effect wasn't as pronounced. He'd have to test this theory later in the Forbidden Forest with other magical creatures.
His thoughts were interrupted by something catching his eye. In the center of the room stood a square glass case, lit by four candles in shaded holders at its corners. Inside was a patched-up, slightly cracked, grayish-white hat.
"The Sorting Hat?" Lucien blurted out. "Why's it white now?"
"Oi, finally, someone recognizes me!" the Sorting Hat piped up. "Lucien, putting you in Ravenclaw was spot-on. Not like that dim-witted kid last time… You're sharp as a tack, one of the most gifted young wizards I've seen in ages!"
The hat rambled on, and Lucien glanced at Dumbledore, his expression saying, Is this normal?
Dumbledore just shrugged. "Ever since the last Sorting Ceremony, it's been… livelier. Goes on like this every day."
His face took on a peculiar look, no doubt recalling a late-night chat with the Sorting Hat. He'd only meant to ask about Lucien's character and talents, but somehow ended up agreeing to a glass display case and monthly hat cleanings.
Lucien nodded, thinking to himself, A thousand years of Sorting, and the poor thing's gone a bit loony.
As he sat down, Dumbledore conjured a spread of treats: honey water, lemon drops, licorice wands… Lucien couldn't help but think, Classic Dumbledore, the candy king.
"Lucien, this is our first proper chat, but I've heard about you from several professors," Dumbledore began. "They speak highly of you—say you're talented, diligent, and humble."
"They're too kind," Lucien replied. "I'm just grateful for their guidance."
But he doubted Dumbledore had summoned him just to sing his praises. Hogwarts didn't exactly hand out "Student of the Month" awards. Lucien's performance had been solid, sure—maybe he learned a bit faster and showed some magical flair—but was that enough to warrant a private meeting with the headmaster?
Still, this was a good chance to bring up something he'd been meaning to discuss: his plan to study Defense Against the Dark Arts with "Quirrell." Better to give Dumbledore a heads-up, just to be safe.
Before he could figure out how to broach the topic, Dumbledore spoke. "Lucien, I was chatting with Professor Flitwick, and he mentioned you're interested in using the Extension Charm to hold living creatures?"
"Yes, sir," Lucien nodded. "But he warned me it's very difficult."
Dumbledore smiled and levitated a letter into his hand. "As it happens, I consulted an old friend about this. His name's Newt—Newt Scamander. Ever heard of him?"
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