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After Dumbledore finished walking him through the key points of Partis Temporus, the headmaster's office settled into a comfortable quiet again.
The old wizard picked up his teacup and took a slow, thirsty sip.
Lucien mentally filed away everything he'd just learned. Partis Temporus wasn't actually about blasting out huge flames—it was pure control. You generated the fire with other magic first, then used this spell to shape, guide, and supercharge it, giving the flames real precision and way more punch.
Dumbledore had mentioned it paired best with strong fire spells. Since he'd already taught the control piece, he figured he might as well toss in one of the fire spells for free.
He clearly wasn't worried Lucien couldn't handle it.
"Moltensurge or Gubraithian Fire," Dumbledore said, setting his cup down like he was recommending desserts. "Take your pick."
Moltensurge hit with insane heat—lava-level temperatures, straight-up offensive destruction.
Gubraithian Fire was more refined, a perfect mix of alchemy and spellwork. It didn't burn as hot, but it burned forever and was killer for advanced potions and alchemy work—way more utility.
Lucien's fingers drummed lightly on his own teacup. Both sound fucking perfect. Old man always brings the heat.
He grinned, unable to resist. "Headmaster… any chance I could learn both?"
Dumbledore had just started pouring himself a fresh cup. His hand paused for half a second.
Greedy little genius, he thought, but his eyes sparkled with fond amusement. This bold, hungry side of Lucien actually made him seem more like a normal kid his age.
"Sure," Dumbledore said with a soft chuckle, finishing the pour. "Why not."
He spent the next few minutes carefully explaining both spells. Moltensurge needed a massive pull of fire element. Gubraithian Fire relied more on strong alchemy foundations.
Luckily, Lucien was stacked in both.
As he listened, a sharp new idea suddenly cut through his thoughts—
Could I use Partis Temporus to control Fiendfyre?
Fiendfyre was straight Dark Magic—cursed flames that devoured everything they touched and only got stronger the longer they burned. Normal water couldn't touch it; you needed the specific counter-curse to shut it down.
It was notoriously hard to control. Weak wizards usually ended up roasting themselves alive. Only real masters could direct it without everything going to hell.
Grindelwald had taken it to another level. The guy could even use it as a loyalty test—true followers walked through untouched, while anyone with doubts turned to ash on contact.
Besides the Fiendfyre curse itself, Grindelwald definitely had something like Partis Temporus to actually tame those flames.
Both Dumbledore and Grindelwald were absolute monsters when it came to playing with fire.
Thinking about Fiendfyre dragged Lucien's mind right back to the blood maledictions he needed to cure for the Idun's Apple loan.
He'd already decided he had to study curses from Dark Magic.
And the best person to ask was sitting right across from him, calmly sipping tea like they were talking about the weather.
Only after Dumbledore finished his cup and set it down did Lucien speak.
"Headmaster," he asked, tone perfectly normal—like any good student asking for study tips, "if I wanted to learn about curses from the Dark Arts… what would you suggest?"
The peaceful vibe in the office shifted, as if something invisible had brushed across the room.
Several portraits of former headmasters who hadn't been sleeping deeply snapped their eyes open at once.
A few others who'd been openly eavesdropping on the entire "private lesson" turned their painted gazes sharply toward the old man and the boy sitting across from him.