Salazar's lab smelled faintly of potion fumes, old parchment, and something far less pleasant—something metallic and sharp that lingered in the air like a warning.
I stepped inside without knocking.
Of course I did.
"You're late," Salazar said without looking up.
"I wasn't aware I had an appointment," I replied, glancing around. "Nice place. Still smells like bad decisions."
That earned me a quiet huff of amusement.
Then my eyes landed on the boy.
Standing straight. Composed. Watching everything with careful attention.
Ah.
So this was the one.
"Armand," Salazar said, finally looking up. "This is Seraphina."
The boy immediately straightened further. Smart. Respectful—but not overly submissive.
Good balance.
"Lady Seraphina," he said politely, dipping his head just enough.
I waved a hand. "Drop the 'Lady.' Makes me sound old."
He hesitated—just for a second—then nodded.
"Seraphina."
I studied him properly now.
Sharp eyes. Calculating.
Not arrogant—yet.
But it was there. Underneath. Waiting.
"So," I said, circling him slowly like I was inspecting a new experiment, "you're the Malfoy heir."
"Armand Malfoy," he confirmed.
Malfoy family
Of course. That name would echo for centuries.
I stopped in front of him.
"Tell me something, Armand," I said casually. "What do you want?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Good.
He thought about it.
Even better.
"Power," he said finally. "And influence."
Straightforward. Honest.
I liked that.
"And what are you willing to do to get it?"
A pause.
Then—
"Whatever is necessary."
I smiled slightly.
"Dangerous answer."
He didn't flinch. "Realistic."
I let out a soft laugh.
"Oh, I like him."
Salazar smirked faintly from the side. "I thought you might."
I turned back to Armand, folding my arms.
"Alright. Let's fix one thing early."
He blinked. "Fix?"
"You've got ambition," I said. "Cunning too. You're smart. You'll go far."
I stepped closer, lowering my voice slightly.
"But here's the problem."
His attention sharpened instantly.
"You think that's enough."
He frowned slightly. "…Isn't it?"
I shook my head.
"No."
I tapped his chest lightly with my finger.
"Ambition without power?"
Another tap.
"Cunning without strength?"
I leaned in just slightly.
"That gets you killed."
Silence.
"You can manipulate people all you want," I continued calmly. "Lie, scheme, play politics…"
I straightened.
"But the moment you run into someone stronger than you—someone who doesn't care about your little games?"
I smiled thinly.
"You lose."
Armand didn't speak.
But I could see it—
He was listening.
Really listening.
"So here's my advice," I said, stepping back.
"Build power first."
"Then use your ambition."
A pause.
"…Understood," he said quietly.
Good answer.
I waved a hand and summoned a small stack of notes from my satchel, tossing them to him.
He caught them quickly, glancing down.
His eyes widened slightly.
"Transfiguration?" he asked.
"The most underrated combat discipline," I said immediately.
Salazar snorted softly. "Here we go."
I ignored him.
"Everyone thinks it's just turning teacups into rats," I continued. "It's not."
I gestured around the lab.
"It's control over the battlefield."
I flicked my wand.
A nearby stone table warped instantly—stretching, reshaping into a jagged barrier.
Another flick—and it shattered into a dozen sharp projectiles, hovering mid-air.
"Defense. Offense. Environment control," I said. "All in one."
The shards dropped back to the ground as I lowered my wand.
"Master this," I told Armand, "and you'll never be at a disadvantage."
He nodded, gripping the notes tighter.
"I will."
I believed him.
After a few more instructions—and a brief lecture on not getting himself killed—I left him to study.
I walked over to Salazar, leaning against one of the worktables.
"…Good choice," I said quietly.
Salazar didn't look up from whatever he was working on.
"I know."
I smirked. "Confident."
"He has potential," Salazar said simply. "And the right mindset."
I nodded slowly.
"He does."
A pause.
"…Reminds me of you a little," I added casually.
That made him glance up.
"…Should I be concerned?"
I grinned.
"Very."
He huffed quietly, but I could see the faint amusement in his eyes.
"So," I said, shifting the topic, "how's the basilisk project?"
That got his full attention.
"Progressing," he said. "Slowly."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning I haven't died yet," he replied dryly.
I laughed.
"Good sign."
We fell into discussion after that—real discussion.
Soul stability.Bloodline fusion.Magical creature integration.
All the dangerous things.
But in the back of my mind…
I kept thinking about the boy.
Armand Malfoy.
Another piece on the board.
Another future shaped.
I smiled slightly to myself.
This school…
Was going to produce monsters.
And I was the one teaching them how.