Lucien sent another hoverboard through Dragonnite, carefully wrapped and reinforced with runes so it wouldn't activate mid-flight. Tied neatly to it was a letter—clear, precise, and written in Lucien's calm hand—detailing how to operate it, how intent affects balance, and which alchemical stabilizers must never be removed.
Dragonnite saluted playfully before vanishing toward Nicolas Flamel's estate.
Dumbledore's Office — A Quiet Conversation
Later that day, the gargoyle didn't even ask for a password.
"Come in, Lucien," it grumbled.
Lucien entered the office, greeting the portraits and taking a seat opposite Dumbledore. Fawkes fluttered down briefly, brushing Lucien's shoulder before returning to his perch.
Dumbledore folded his hands.
"Tell me, my boy," he asked gently, "what inspired you to create such an… extraordinary object?"
Lucien answered honestly, without pride.
"Master Flamel asked me to create an alchemical product a few days ago. I wanted to make something that wasn't just theory—something practical. Something that combined alchemy, intent-based magic, and material science."
Dumbledore's eyes gleamed behind his glasses.
"So you created it… because someone asked."
Lucien nodded. "Yes, sir."
Dumbledore leaned back, thoughtful.
"That may be the most dangerous reason of all."
Lucien tilted his head slightly, curious.
Patents, Secrecy, and the Ministry
Dumbledore then spoke more seriously.
"The Ministry will eventually notice this invention. Flying devices that do not rely on broom cores, goblin silver bindings, or traditional enchantments will… unsettle certain departments."
Lucien responded calmly.
"I don't intend to mass-produce it."
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.
"The materials are expensive," Lucien continued, "the process takes time, and it requires precise alchemical control. A standard broom is cheaper, easier, and more accessible. This isn't meant for the public—at least not now."
Dumbledore nodded slowly.
"A wise assessment."
After a pause, he added,
"Even so, I strongly advise you to register a patent. Not to sell—but to protect."
Lucien considered it, then nodded.
"If that's the best course… I'll do it."
He hesitated briefly, then asked,
"Would you help me with the process, Headmaster?"
Dumbledore smiled warmly.
"It would be my pleasure."
Lucien stood and bowed politely.
"Thank you, sir."
As Lucien left the office, Dumbledore watched him go, expression unreadable.
"A boy who creates only when asked," he murmured,
"and refuses power unless it is necessary…"
Fawkes chirped softly, as if agreeing.
Elsewhere — A Legendary Reaction
Far away, Nicolas Flamel stared at the hoverboard hovering gently in his workshop, rotating slowly as if alive.
"…Extraordinary," he breathed.
Perenelle clapped her hands together delightedly.
"He sent instructions too! Look how tidy his handwriting is—oh, Nicolas, he's adorable."
Nicolas laughed softly.
"This isn't just invention," he said. "This is a new branch of applied alchemy."
He looked thoughtful.
"…We may be witnessing the birth of someone who doesn't merely follow alchemy."
"He may redefine it."
Back at Hogwarts
Lucien returned to the Great Hall, greeted by familiar faces—Akeno's gentle smile, Susan's shy wave, Tonks trying very hard to act normal and failing miserably.
Everything felt… steady.
And yet, unseen threads were tightening.
The Ministry would notice.
Inventors would envy.
And ancient beings—far older than Hogwarts—were beginning to pay attention.
Lucien, however, simply sat down, ate his meal, and thought quietly about what to build next.