Lucien examined the Snidgets' tiny bodies, carefully recording data with a quill that moved on its own.
The little round birds were no longer wary of him, flitting around playfully. Even when Lucien gently picked one up to inspect it, they seemed to think he was playing a game.
Phew, Lucien thought. This animal affinity makes close-up measurements so much easier. No need to knock them out with calming incense and flip them around to get the data.
Wait… did I really need to burn incense to observe those Mooncalves last time? He chuckled to himself. I could've just strolled right up to them.
Back then, his Qilin, Luster, had just awakened, and Lucien hadn't yet noticed his knack for bonding with creatures. Going forward, he'd stick to observing magical creatures in their natural state first—hiding himself to record their behaviors before calling Luster to calm them.
Glancing at Luster, Lucien saw it surrounded by Snidgets. A couple of fledglings even teleported onto its back.
Luster didn't mind, gently licking the tiny birds. The ones it touched seemed livelier, their chirps brighter and more cheerful.
No surprise there, Lucien thought. It's a Qilin, a creature of pure auspiciousness. If even he, as its master, gained an affinity for animals, Luster's effect had to be even stronger. The moment it appeared, the Snidgets dropped their guard. If Lucien hadn't been nearby, they probably would've snuggled right up to it.
Hold on… didn't Luster say Fang was scared of it when it visited Hagrid's vegetable garden? Could Luster have spooked Fang? Nah, that doesn't sound right. Hagrid had mentioned Fang was a bit of a coward. Maybe the dog just got nervous around unfamiliar creatures, even a benevolent Qilin.
Maybe I'll test that theory sometime, Lucien thought, pushing the idea aside to focus on recording the Snidgets' data.
He also collected some of their scattered feathers—common magical materials.
Once he finished, Lucien patted Luster. "Alright, time to head back."
---
Inside Hagrid's Hut
Harry was muttering to himself, reciting facts. "Mooncalf dung has to be washed clean of its black sap… Armadillo bile needs filtering through an ice-crystal funnel, three times…"
Hagrid stirred a pot over the fire, cooking dinner. Knowing Lucien and Harry might stay to eat, he'd made extra.
A knock came at the door.
Hagrid got up to answer, and Harry's recitation picked up speed.
"Oh, Lucien, you're back!" Hagrid said. "Staying for dinner?"
Lucien nodded absentmindedly, agreeing before stepping inside. Then he saw the bubbling pot—and half a massive claw of something poking out of the stew.
His stomach lurched. Oh no, I forgot about Hagrid's… unique cooking.
What was that claw? Definitely not something a Softening Charm could fix.
Hagrid looked thrilled, though, and Lucien didn't have the heart to make an excuse and bolt—not after all the help Hagrid had given him. It's just one meal, he told himself. Worst case, I'll whip up some quick Eastern dishes with magic. Chopping and cooking with spells is fast, right?
"Harry, how's the memorizing going?" Lucien asked.
"Uh, pretty good, I think," Harry replied.
Lucien sat across from him. "Alright, then. Time to write it all down."
Harry's fingers froze on his book. "Uh, wait, hold on—oh, right! I had Hagrid grab that spellbook for you. Take a look."
He slid a hefty tome across the table to Lucien. The cover looked like dragonhide, stamped with a bold, gilded "P."
So this is the Potter family spellbook, Lucien thought. Pretty big, huh? How did Harry miss this in the Gringotts vault? Probably too dazzled by all those shiny Galleons.
Curious about what knowledge it held, Lucien was about to flip it open when he noticed Harry still staring at him.
"Harry, why are you looking at me? Start writing."
"But… aren't you going to read? I can wait," Harry said.
Lucien opened the book. "You write, I read. Multitasking, you know?"
"You've got twenty minutes to write out everything I told you to memorize."
He pulled out his transfigured pocket watch—useless for actual timekeeping—and snapped it open with a click. "Let's see… you've got nineteen minutes and fifty-five seconds left."
Harry scrambled for his quill and started scribbling.
Lucien shook his head with a smile. Classic kid, stalling to avoid homework.
He turned his attention to the Potter family spellbook. Nice. It was packed with Alchemy and Potions knowledge. No wonder the Potters had built their fortune on potions. Harry's mother was famously gifted, but it seemed his father's line was just as skilled. Harry's knack for Potions clearly ran in the family.
Binding Salve, Smoothing Tonic, Nasal-Clear…
Among the recipes for alchemical potions used in golems or healing brews, one caught Lucien's eye.
Delayed Truth: Main ingredients—Boomslang venom and Acromantula venom, mixed at a 7.9:2.1 ratio, with additional materials… This creates a solid explosive potion that can't be ignited by flame. It activates on the first impact and detonates violently on the second.
The inventor, Bulle Potter, had written: "Only magic of immense power and explosions are truth. Even delayed truth is still truth!"
Lucien's eyes lit up. A wizarding time-delay bomb? Triggered by impact? That's awesome. It could be perfect for crafting specialized magical bullets—maybe ones with a secondary acceleration effect or just pure explosive power.
As for materials, the Forbidden Forest was crawling with Acromantulas—one of them even Hagrid's old pal. Boomslang venom? He could ask Hagrid to source some or write to Newt. He's probably got a Boomslang or two in that suitcase of his.
This Bulle Potter sounds like quite a character, Lucien thought with a grin.
He turned the page and froze at the first line, written in bold red ink: "Exercise extreme caution when brewing Delayed Truth! Ancestor Bulle died in an explosion accident."
Seriously? Lucien thought. That warning should've been on the previous page!
He skimmed a few more potions, then closed the book to grade Harry's work.
After a flurry of checks and crosses, he said, "Not bad. You clearly put in the effort."
Harry started to relax, but Lucien continued, "Copy the mistakes four times, and tomorrow, rewrite the parts you got wrong."
"What? Rewrite them?" Harry groaned.
"You want to leave the errors as is?" Lucien asked.
Harry slumped, defeated, but then perked up, pulling two small vials from his pocket. "Lucien, can you check these? Are they up to standard?"
Lucien took the vials and popped one open. Clarity Potion.
"Oh, right," he said, a grin spreading across his face as he looked at Harry. "Potions class with Snape tomorrow, huh?"
He tested the vials. "These are fine. No issues."