The Forbidden Forest was on the cusp of dawn.
Lucien smiled as he looked at the little unicorn. "What do you think of the name? Want to pick a different one?"
"I… I like it… a lot," the newborn unicorn replied, struggling a bit with words but clearly delighted.
Aurora toddled over, and Lucien stepped forward, worried she might stumble. Mimicking her parents, she gently nudged her tiny horn against his hand, rubbing softly.
She was too young to emit the blessing glow, but Lucien's grin widened anyway.
"Newt, isn't this just beautiful?" Dumbledore said, watching the interaction, adjusting his glasses and subtly wiping a tear.
"Absolutely. The miracle of new life," Newt replied, stroking his palm. He'd helped birth countless magical creatures, but tonight stood out. Assisting with a unicorn's cesarean, witnessing a young boy save a fragile life, achieving something near-miraculous—it was unforgettable.
And now, earning a unicorn's blessing? A feat rare in history.
Newt couldn't help but think Lucien had a deep bond with magical creatures. Maybe…
"Lucien's really cut out for a career with magical creatures," Newt said.
Dumbledore, knowing his friend well, chuckled. "What, trying to recruit him to take over your work?"
"Ha, Newt, you might not know, but Lucien's got a knack for teaching too. Who knows, he might stay on at Hogwarts."
Newt nodded. "Well, it's up to Lucien, of course. By the way, during his fifth-year career counseling, what did he say he wanted to do?"
The question caught Dumbledore off guard. He wasn't a seer—how could he know what Lucien might want four years from now?
"Er, I wouldn't know," he admitted.
Newt glanced at him, surprised that Dumbledore, of all people, wasn't tracking what a standout student like Lucien aspired to.
He looked back at Lucien, still playing with the little unicorn. Though Newt wished Lucien were a Hufflepuff—Hogwarts was the best school, and Hufflepuff the best house, after all—he admired the Ravenclaw boy. Knowledgeable, kind, and great with creatures.
Plus, he was easy on the eyes and seemed… young.
Wait.
Age?
With the urgent tasks done, Newt finally had a moment to study Lucien. This was their first in-person meeting; they'd only corresponded by letter before.
Newt had assumed Lucien was a sixth or seventh year. Only someone with years of Hogwarts education could ask him such complex questions about the Extension Charm or creature behaviors.
But now, looking closely, something felt off.
Lucien didn't look like a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old. At most…
"Dumbledore," Newt asked, "what year is Lucien in?"
---
In the headmaster's office, Dumbledore, Newt, and Lucien sat around a table, a few small cakes set out.
"Come on, try these," Dumbledore said, sipping his milky, sugary tea. "A cup of tea in the morning with sweet cakes? It chases away all exhaustion."
After a long night, Lucien and Newt didn't hesitate. Sugar was just the thing to soothe their tired minds and bodies.
Dumbledore's eyes crinkled as he watched Luster playing with Fawkes. "Heh, Luster, right? Want to try this lemon cake? I highly recommend it."
"Thank you, Headmaster Dumbledore," Luster's ethereal voice echoed in their minds as it floated a lemon cake on a small golden cloud, nibbling delicately.
Fawkes, perched nearby, showed no interest. After years with Dumbledore, the phoenix was over sweets.
Luster's voice, resonating directly in their heads, made Dumbledore marvel. "Lucien, I never imagined you'd have such an extraordinary companion. Honestly, Luster's uniqueness rivals Fawkes."
He glanced at his old friend, the crimson bird now pecking curiously at the pale yellow cloud Luster had conjured, clearly intrigued.
"By the way, what kind of creature is Luster? I don't recall anything like it."
Lucien set down his spoon and answered, just as he'd told Newt: "A qilin. Luster is a qilin."
"A qilin?" Dumbledore's surprise was evident.
He knew qilins well. Grindelwald had once tried to manipulate one for his schemes, only to be thwarted by Newt and a true qilin.
But connecting that image to Luster was tough. It wasn't just the appearance—Dumbledore pictured qilins as larger, deer-like creatures, while Luster had a divine, otherworldly grace. And the abilities? Night and day. Qilins could peer into hearts, discern good from evil, and choose worthy leaders. Dumbledore himself had been selected by one once, though he'd declined to lead the wizarding world.
Luster, though? Yellow clouds for flight, apparition unrestricted by Hogwarts' wards, blood brimming with potent life force… These traits didn't align with Dumbledore's understanding of qilins.
"Luster's a bit different from the usual qilin," Newt said, sipping his plain tea—no milk, no sugar. "It might be a powerful, benign mutation. Magical creatures still hold so many mysteries for us. Magic's like that—always surprising us with new creatures or miracles."
He added, "Luster's blood and saliva carry an extraordinary life force. That could attract the wrong kind of attention."
Lucien appreciated Newt's endorsement. As the foremost expert on magical creatures, Newt's word carried weight. If he said it was a magical creature or a mutation, it was so.
Dumbledore nodded, his tone serious. "I understand. Rest assured, Hogwarts is safe. With me here, no one will harm Lucien or Luster."
Coming from the greatest and most powerful wizard alive, that promise meant something.
Lucien couldn't help but think, Sure, everyone's safe at Hogwarts… except maybe Harry.