In the small room housing the Mirror of Erised, a swirling shadow, like water spiraling down a toilet, appeared before Lucien. It quickly morphed into a tall, silver-haired, silver-bearded old man.
Dumbledore looked at Lucien, who wore a faint smile, and sighed. "Lucien, you're remarkably sharp to have noticed this little spell."
Little spell?
Well, in terms of scale, maybe it was small.
Using his Sight of Magic at full strength, Lucien had scoured the room for a long time before spotting a magical signature no bigger than a mosquito. But its structure? The spell Dumbledore used for remote surveillance was incredibly intricate.
At first glance, Lucien saw only a chaotic tangle of magic. Only after closer inspection did he discern the interwoven layers of magical constructs, some of which he'd only glimpsed in books on ancient spells—and even then, just fragments.
No surprise there. The greatest wizard of the century didn't deal in ordinary magic.
"Headmaster, I just got lucky tonight," Lucien said, with only a hint of modesty.
Luck? Hardly. During the last Quidditch match, he hadn't even noticed Dumbledore's surveillance spell. The field was too vast, the crowd too chaotic. Spotting a mosquito-sized, moving magical trace in that mess? His Sight of Magic wasn't that precise yet.
It was only because this room was small, with no other magical interference, and because Dumbledore hadn't dispelled the spell, that Lucien had caught it.
Dumbledore shook his head. "Luck? Not many in this school have that kind of luck."
"And Animagus…" He gave Lucien a bemused look. "Do you remember you're only a first-year?"
Dumbledore was half-laughing, half-exasperated. He could accept a student becoming an Animagus while still at school. After all, a group of bold, adventurous boys had done it a decade ago—and succeeded.
But Lucien? He was so young!
Dumbledore recalled that Harry's father, James Potter, and his friends had tackled the Animagus transformation in their fifth year. Those boys were gifted and lucky, sure, but they'd had years of study and a solid foundation in Transfiguration.
Lucien, though? A first-year, barely six months into formal magical education.
Yet here he was, already at this level in Transfiguration!
Dumbledore had also noticed something else: Lucien didn't use a wand to shift between human and animal forms—a skill only seasoned Animagi mastered.
How long had Lucien even been an Animagus? Dumbledore suspected it was since Christmas Eve. He'd been visiting an old friend that night, away from Hogwarts, but the ghosts later described a massive, sudden storm.
It wasn't hard to connect the dots.
Becoming an Animagus required a strong foundation in Transfiguration and a good dose of luck. The trickiest non-human factors were the moonlight hitting a Mandrake leaf during the second full moon—too many clouds could ruin it—and waiting for a lightning storm.
That wait could last weeks, even months. For the unluckiest wizards, years.
But Lucien? Had he waited even a month?
Dumbledore's bright blue eyes betrayed a rare flicker of confusion. Could Lucien's luck really be that good?
As for artificially creating a storm… Dumbledore doubted a first-year, six months into magic, could match his own skill. Besides, a magically conjured storm would interfere with the Animagus ritual.
Yet Lucien's transformation had been smooth, natural, flawless.
"Lucien, if you don't mind, could you demonstrate your Animagus transformation?" Dumbledore asked.
Lucien nodded, effortlessly picturing an owl in his mind. His form shifted instantly into an ordinary barn owl.
The more common the animal, the better the disguise. In the Muggle world, owls weren't exactly common, but in the wizarding world? They'd been delivering mail for generations, making them the most familiar creatures next to pets.
Turning into something flashy like a crocodile, bear, or lion would draw too much attention for blending in.
Thanks to Loki's Faceless and its unparalleled Transfiguration talent, Lucien's Animagus ability wasn't limited to one form. He could even tweak details—patterns, eye color, fur…
Unlike typical Animagi, whose animal forms had fixed traits. Professor McGonagall's tabby cat, for instance, always had those distinctive square markings around its eyes.
Dumbledore clapped lightly as he watched Lucien's owl. "Remarkable."
"Lucien, your talent—your gift for Transfiguration—is truly one of a kind!"
"Hoo, hoo."
The perfectly ordinary owl call made Dumbledore chuckle, his eyes crinkling behind his glasses. "An owl suits you. Sharp senses, approachable appearance, but still a fierce predator at heart."
Lucien's owl flapped its wings, lifting off briefly before landing softly.
Dumbledore's smile grew, as if he'd just thought of something. "Lucien, those Christmas gifts we all got… you didn't deliver them yourself, did you?"
The owl's head swiveled halfway, then back, giving a small nod.
What could he say? He'd just become an Animagus. It was like getting a new toy—how could he not play with it?
Besides, he hadn't delivered that many gifts. Compared to the real owls resting in the Owlery, Lucien's workload was light. During holidays, when letters and packages piled up, those owls flew from dawn to dusk.
Lucien shifted back to human form. "Headmaster, did you like the Christmas gift I sent?"
Dumbledore stroked his long beard, his expression softening. "The socks were wonderfully soft and warm. It's been years since I got such a thoughtful gift."
"And that little machine? Quite fascinating."
As he spoke, Dumbledore flipped his hand, conjuring an odd-looking device. It resembled a spider lying on its back, clutching a ball of yarn, its thin "legs" weaving the yarn into a wool sock.
He fiddled with a button. "Impressive Transfiguration, combined with some clever alchemy. You learn quickly."
Lucien replied politely, "Thanks to the guidance of my professors and you, Headmaster."
"There's still so much for me to learn about magic."
Dumbledore chuckled. "Every teacher loves a good student. So, what do you say? Want to learn this little surveillance spell?"
Lucien's eyes lit up with excitement, and Dumbledore added, "It has its limits. It's complex, doesn't last long, and you can only maintain a few at a time. So, it's not for constant monitoring."
Lucien wasn't surprised. The more intricate the spell, the more restrictions it had.
"When I use it," Dumbledore continued, "I focus only on the most important people or things. You understand what I mean, don't you?"
Lucien nodded. "Yes. Like Harry. Or the Philosopher's Stone?"
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(Added here ___〆(・∀・))
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A flicker of surprise crossed Dumbledore's eyes. "Oh, you already know about the Philosopher's Stone?"
"That's faster than I expected."
Lucien shrugged casually, pulling a Chocolate Frog card from his pocket and showing it to Dumbledore. "I first heard the name Nicolas Flamel from Hagrid. Then I came across it again on this card, mentioning the legendary alchemist."
"I also read about him recently in a book. A man who's 665 years old."
Dumbledore listened as Lucien laid it out clearly, piecing things together logically.
Seeing his own portrait on the card, Dumbledore adjusted his glasses, his tone wry. "I know you and Hagrid are close. He's reliable, someone you'd trust with your life."
"But when it comes to secrets…"
Lucien couldn't help but grin. Hagrid, the lovable blabbermouth, might as well drink Veritaserum like water.
"Headmaster," Lucien said, "you wanted Harry to learn about this through Hagrid, didn't you? To get him curious about Nicolas Flamel?"
Dumbledore sighed, a hint of resignation in his voice. "Lucien, you're clever. Maybe too clever."
"Harry's lucky to have a friend like you. Problems seem to solve themselves around you… But sometimes, people need to face challenges alone to grow, don't you think?"
Lucien understood. The "Chosen One" training plan. Harry needed to face trials, confront Voldemort repeatedly, build his magical skills, and develop the courage to face his destined enemy.
According to the prophecy, only the Boy Who Lived could defeat Voldemort. Dumbledore believed it wholeheartedly.
So, this was his not-so-subtle way of asking Lucien not to meddle too much in Harry's growth.
Still…
Lucien thought back to months ago, in the Forbidden Forest, when the centaur Firenze had said: "…You will alter the paths of those around you…"
In this magical world, prophecies were unchangeable, and people had fixed destinies. But Firenze, a master of centaur divination, claimed Lucien would shift the trajectories of those around him, altering their fates.
If he could really change things, how far could he go?
For now, looking at Harry alone, the impact was clear. Thanks to Lucien's tutoring, Harry had improved in Potions early on, without needing the Half-Blood Prince's notes to excel.
That change was undeniable.
As for whether Harry would still defeat Voldemort in the future… that was too far off to tell.
But Lucien caught a key phrase in Dumbledore's words.
"Easygoing?" He didn't agree with that.
He pulled out a test paper—Harry's final exam—and held it out. "Headmaster, want to see how Harry's been doing?"
Dumbledore nodded, curious about the results of Lucien's tutoring. He knew from Snape that Harry's Potions work had improved significantly, but he didn't know the specifics of what Lucien was teaching.
As he scanned the paper, Dumbledore's eyes widened. "Harry's been tackling questions like these?"
Lucien shook his head. "Not always. This was the final exam, covering a lot—Charms, History of Magic, Herbology, all first-year subjects I designed."
"There was a practical portion too, like brewing potions, planting herbs, or casting spells."
"But usually, I focus on Potions with Harry."
Dumbledore wiped his brow. "That's… quite a lot of material."
He didn't say it, but Lucien's curriculum seemed to cover more than the school's standard plan—across every subject. It added up to a hefty load.
"Children are young, you know," Dumbledore said tentatively. "Learning should be fun, don't you think?"
He encouraged hard work but worried that piling so much on a first-year, new to magic, might be too much.
Lucien shook his head, his tone earnest. "Headmaster, I like an old Eastern saying: 'If you don't work hard in youth, you'll regret it in old age.'"
"Young people should seize the chance to learn as much as they can."
"And look—here are Harry's earlier test results." Lucien pulled out more papers and assignments, arranged chronologically, and handed them to Dumbledore.
Dumbledore flipped through them, nodding as he went. "Harry's progress is clear."
"Exactly," Lucien said. "Harry's got real talent, especially in Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts."
He paused. "Harry's been paying me well for tutoring. Starting next year, I plan to formally teach him Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"Practical experience is crucial, but a solid theoretical foundation should come first—or at least keep pace."
Dumbledore's eyes gleamed with approval. "Lucien, Harry's lucky to have you as a friend."
"Have you considered staying at Hogwarts after graduation? Teaching, perhaps?"
"I think you've got a real knack for it, and your personality's a great fit."
Lucien didn't answer right away. Teaching at Hogwarts was an appealing idea. Educating students while deepening his own knowledge sounded fulfilling.
But he also dreamed of traveling the world after graduation. Reading thousands of books was one thing, but walking thousands of miles was another. The world was full of magical ruins and unique knowledge in every region.
What a wonderful world.
"Thank you for the vote of confidence," Lucien said. "If I get the chance to stay at Hogwarts after graduation, I'll definitely consider it."
Dumbledore nodded, clearly pleased with Lucien's response.
Suddenly, he seemed to remember something. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his hand, slowly opening it to reveal a translucent red gem.
"Lucien," he said, "what are your thoughts on immortality?"