Lucas Summers knew perfectly well that attending first-year classes at his current level was basically equivalent to a max-level boss rampaging through a beginner village.
Professor McGonagall clearly understood that too.
But from her perspective, if there was an opportunity to earn easy points for Gryffindor, why wouldn't she take advantage of it?
After all, Slytherin had dominated the House Cup for six straight years. Gryffindor hadn't won in ages, and now McGonagall had finally discovered a walking point-generating machine named Lucas Summers.
Naturally, she intended to use him thoroughly.
For the rest of the lesson, Lucas no longer dared to fall asleep.
Fortunately, Professor McGonagall had already finished the theoretical portion of the class, and what followed was practical work.
She distributed matches to every student and instructed them to transform the matches into needles.
After witnessing Lucas casually conjure a phoenix moments earlier, the entire class had become wildly motivated.
Everyone looked excited.
If he could do it, why couldn't they?
What if they were geniuses too?
Unfortunately, reality proved merciless.
Most of the students waved their wands so hard their wrists nearly snapped, but the matches stubbornly remained matches.
Nothing happened.
Professor McGonagall eventually sighed softly before turning toward Lucas.
"Mr. Summers," she said calmly, "would you mind assisting me as a temporary teaching assistant?"
Naturally, she also awarded him another five points for Gryffindor.
Honestly, Lucas didn't think five points meant much.
Especially considering Potions class still hadn't happened yet.
And judging from Harry's current situation, there was absolutely no chance he'd listened to advice and studied the Potions textbook beforehand.
By Lucas's estimation, whatever points Gryffindor earned today would probably be deducted by Professor Snape before dinner.
Still, under Lucas's personal guidance, Hermione and Kassandra both successfully transformed their matches into silver needles.
Professor McGonagall looked delighted.
"Excellent work. Gryffindor gains ten points."
She awarded Hermione and Kassandra five points each individually as well.
As for Harry and Ron…
Lucas barely helped them at all.
Teaching people was exhausting.
Naturally, his energy was reserved for girls. The boys could struggle through life independently.
By the end of class, nobody else had achieved meaningful progress.
Well—
Unless Seamus Finnigan's exploding match counted as successful Transfiguration.
Once class ended, Lucas headed directly toward the eighth floor.
Eventually, he arrived outside the Headmaster's office and looked curiously at the ugly stone gargoyle guarding the entrance.
"Sherbet lemon," he said.
The gargoyle immediately jumped aside, revealing a spiralling staircase behind it.
Lucas stepped onto the moving stairs and soon arrived inside Dumbledore's office.
The Headmaster himself didn't appear to be there yet.
Lucas glanced around curiously.
The office was enormous, circular, and strangely beautiful. Various odd little silver instruments filled the room, spinning and puffing out thin streams of smoke while producing strange clicking noises.
Portraits of former Headmasters and Headmistresses covered the walls, all sleeping softly inside their frames.
Behind the large claw-footed desk sat a shelf containing a battered old wizard's hat.
The Sorting Hat.
The moment Lucas entered, the hat's rip opened like a mouth.
"Well, well," the Sorting Hat said cheerfully, "it's you again. Have you finally come to fulfil yesterday's promise and wash me properly?"
Lucas laughed. "Professor Dumbledore called me here first. But once we're done talking, I can help clean you."
"That's wonderful," the Sorting Hat said happily. "Can I request a different scent this time? Dumbledore once mentioned Muggle shampoos smell quite pleasant."
Lucas rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I probably don't have shampoo, but I do know some cleaning charms. Don't worry. I guarantee you'll be sparkling."
The Sorting Hat sounded deeply touched.
While Lucas continued chatting casually with the hat, Dumbledore's voice suddenly sounded from behind him.
"It seems you two are getting along quite well."
Lucas turned around.
Dumbledore walked into the office smiling gently, his hands folded behind his back.
"You know," the old wizard said thoughtfully, "when I was younger, I also considered washing the Sorting Hat once or twice. Somehow, I simply forgot over the years."
He gestured for Lucas to sit across from him.
The moment both of them settled into their chairs, two glasses of chilled lemonade appeared on the desk automatically.
"Would you like some?" Dumbledore asked pleasantly. "Sweet and sour. I find it rather enjoyable."
Lucas nodded politely.
At the same time, several plates of biscuits and sweets floated onto the desk between them.
Lucas took a sip of the lemonade.
Then he frowned.
He stared suspiciously at the drink in his hand.
Why wasn't it sour at all?
This was basically liquid sugar with a vague memory of lemon.
Dumbledore watched him with amusement before asking casually, "So, how was your first day of classes?"
"It's been excellent," Lucas replied honestly. "Professor McGonagall is incredible at Transfiguration."
And sitting between Kassandra and Hermione during lessons had been quite pleasant too.
Dumbledore smiled faintly. "I'm glad you're adapting well. These will likely become precious memories someday."
Then his expression gradually turned serious.
"There's another reason I invited you here today, Lucas."
Lucas quietly set down his cup.
Dumbledore folded his hands together thoughtfully. "I'd like to ask again about the dark wizard you encountered at Gringotts."
Lucas blinked slightly.
Hadn't he already explained everything before?
"Anything unusual you noticed," Dumbledore continued. "Any detail at all. Even something small."
Lucas suddenly understood.
Dumbledore was testing possibilities now.
Very interesting.
He lowered his head slightly and pretended to think carefully.
"Any detail?"
"Yes."
Lucas frowned deliberately as if trying to remember.
Then, after several seconds, he slowly spoke.
"There was a strong smell."
Dumbledore's eyes sharpened slightly.
Lucas continued calmly, "A garlic-like smell."
The moment those words left his mouth, Dumbledore's expression changed almost imperceptibly.
Lucas pretended not to notice.
"You know I'm very familiar with herbs and ingredients, Professor," he said naturally. "Normally I'd never mistake a scent like that."
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"At the time, I assumed the smell came from something nearby. Maybe potion ingredients or herbs. But thinking back now…" Lucas narrowed his eyes slightly. "The smell felt unusually strong. Strong enough that it must've been clinging directly to that wizard."
Silence filled the office.
Dumbledore's cheerful expression slowly faded.
The old wizard's fingers tightened slightly around his cup while his blue eyes darkened with thought.
Garlic.
For a brief moment, the atmosphere inside the office became strangely heavy.
....
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