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Chapter 407 - Chapter 407: Racial Magic

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Newt stared at Lucien for a long moment. His eyes traced the faint silver sheen clinging to the younger man's brows and the tips of his hair, the worry in his expression plain.

"You actually altered your mana circuits to a Veela's racial pattern?" he asked. "Are there side effects?"

Lucien flexed his fingers, casual. "More precisely, a half-Veela hybrid circuit. As long as I shift it back, there's no lasting impact."

The hybrid structure remained fundamentally a wizard's branching, tree-like mana network. The creature traits were only additional offshoots—new branches growing from the existing trunk rather than a full replacement.

He touched the tip of his wand lightly to the center of his chest. Soft light rippled outward like concentric waves on still water. The silver aura faded. The pale tips of his hair darkened again to their usual dark gold. His features sharpened, the softer, more delicate contours giving way once more to the clean lines of a teenage boy.

Then he reached for the circuits again.

A soft series of cracks ran through his bones. His frame lengthened in a single fluid surge. Shoulders broadened. The line of his jaw grew heavier, more angular. His hair thickened and turned coarser. Even his knuckles looked larger.

Lucien picked up the teacup from the small table. A gray-white stone shell spread across its surface in seconds, climbing from base to rim as if the porcelain itself had decided to become living rock. The entire cup sealed itself in a hard, seamless casing.

Newt recognized the effect at once.

"A giant's racial gift," he said quietly. "Petrification of whatever it touches. Extreme hardness. Strong resistance to magic as well."

Lucien released the transformation. His body settled back into its ordinary proportions without fanfare.

Newt let out a long breath before he found his voice again. "Merlin's beard… that's miraculous. Not just the appearance. You're drawing on the actual racial talent of the creature."

He leaned forward, urgency sharp in his tone. "Could you go further? Simulate a complete magical-creature mana circuit?"

Lucien shook his head. "I haven't pushed that deep. And I doubt a full creature circuit would sit comfortably inside a wizard's body."

Unless the body itself transformed to match. That was a different problem entirely.

His own Animagus form carried no fixed shape limit, but without the corresponding mana circuits the resulting creature would be hollow—surface only, no true racial magic.

In pure combat the hybrid circuits offered little real advantage. Lucien could already count on one hand the number of magical creatures that stood a realistic chance of defeating him in a straight fight. The hybrid patterns were sometimes a limitation rather than a gift. Racial magic became available, yes, but ordinary wizard spells grew sluggish in proportion to how closely the circuits approached a creature's native structure. The closer the match, the heavier the drag.

It only reinforced something he had long suspected. A wizard's greatest strength was breadth—the ability to learn and adapt across every branch of magic. Depth in any single racial specialty might belong to the creatures themselves, but the sheer range of human spellcraft left them far behind.

He only shifted the circuits when researching or practicing. In an actual duel the benefit was marginal at best.

"Treating the curse on Nagini gave me the first real insight," Lucien said. "Repairing those twisted circuits suggested a few paths for deliberate transformation."

Some of the tension left Newt's face. A quieter smile appeared.

"I looked in on her in your suitcase before we left. She's markedly better. Less aggressive. Before, she was little more than a cold, frantic beast. Now there's clarity in her again—something closer to real intelligence."

New discoveries often arrived that way. Newt had experienced it more than once himself: while caring for one creature, an unexpected idea would surface that helped another. The original intent might be unrelated, yet the principles still transferred.

Nagini's recovery clearly mattered to him. Looking at Lucien, he seemed to see a wider possibility opening—one that might, someday, let him meet an old friend again as a human being rather than a cursed serpent.

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