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The headmaster's office was warm and quiet, candles flickering soft gold across the stone walls and heavy tapestries.
Lucien and Dumbledore sat across from each other like they always did for afternoon tea—except it was well past midnight now. A silver teapot steamed gently between them, surrounded by plates of sweets.
Dumbledore hadn't bothered with his half-moon glasses. He lounged in a deep-purple dressing gown that looked like it had been thrown on in a hurry, the picture of a tired old man kicking back after a long day.
Of course, most tired old men probably didn't demolish whole piles of Fizzing Whizzbees, Jelly Slugs, and Fudge Flies at two in the morning.
Fawkes had left his golden perch and was now perched on Lucien's shoulder, using that delicate beak to carefully preen the boy's slightly longer hair. Every few seconds the phoenix would nuzzle right into the side of Lucien's neck, breathing in his scent like a cat that had decided this human belonged to it. The affection was ridiculous.
Dumbledore watched the whole thing with a tiny, knowing glint in his blue eyes.
After not seeing Lucien for a while, and noticing how much closer Fawkes had gotten, a strange little thought crossed the old wizard's mind: if someone walked in right now who didn't know any better, they'd probably assume the kid was the phoenix's real owner.
He took a slow sip of tea, then asked with a smile, "So… how was Beauxbatons?"
"Beautiful," Lucien answered honestly.
Dumbledore nodded. He'd visited a few times himself. The place was all gleaming marble, perfect gardens, fountains everywhere—definitely flashier than Hogwarts' ancient, slightly creepy castle.
Then that familiar mischievous sparkle lit up behind his spectacles. He set the cup down.
"Just the school was beautiful?"
Lucien caught the teasing tone and grinned, the same relaxed smile he'd give Nicolas when the old alchemist was in one of his playful moods. These two really were cut from the same cloth.
"Nah," he said easily. "Beauxbatons has that special vibe—the kind of energy that just makes the students drop-dead gorgeous. Like the place itself raises them to look like they stepped out of a painting."
"Vibe?" Dumbledore blinked, the word clearly new to him.
Lucien leaned forward a little. "But here's the thing, Headmaster—I figured I could bring a piece of that Beauxbatons glow back to Hogwarts. Tomorrow, actually. I'll get started right away."
Dumbledore's eyebrows rose, but the idea clearly amused him. Anything that sounded like it would be good for the school was worth hearing.
"Well then," he chuckled, "thank you in advance, Mr. Champion."
Lucien shrugged, modest as ever. "Seeing how another school runs things, talking with different professors and students, bringing some glory back to Hogwarts… it was a hell of a trip. Really good for me."
Dumbledore's gaze softened, warm and fond.
"About our little agreement," he said, steering them to business. "Access to the castle's magical core to draw off the excess emotional energy—that can happen tomorrow, just as we discussed."
Lucien nodded, then flashed a quick, hopeful grin. "Any chance I could get a little bonus with that?"
"A bonus?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with genuine delight at the word. "Go on."
"I've been really into elemental magic lately," Lucien said straight-up, no dancing around it. "Especially fire stuff. I was hoping you could teach me one spell."
Dumbledore let out a soft laugh, clearly charmed by how blunt the kid was. That was the beautiful part of Lucien's age—he still asked for what he wanted like it was the most natural thing in the world.
He thought for a moment, then spoke carefully.
"I do know one fire-control spell that's rather good… though it's called—"
Lucien's pulse kicked up the second he heard "fire-control." His eyes lit with that sharp, hungry spark.
Dumbledore had been about to warn that the spell was pretty advanced—Partis Temporus wasn't exactly beginner stuff—but looking at the boy across from him, the usual warnings felt pointless. This kid didn't do "normal" difficulty.
And that open, eager look on Lucien's face made the old wizard swallow the rest of his caution.
"It's called Partis Temporus," Dumbledore said gently, voice warm with affection. "The incantation is Partis Temporus…"