Chapter 30
Halloween hadn't arrived yet, but the festive atmosphere had already settled in early. The lights in the castle were bright and cheerful; If students could clear their minds and ignore the homework assigned by the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, they ought to be able to relax and enjoy a pleasant few days.
Unfortunately, reality was often cruel.
On the eve of the holiday, countless students still hadn't finished their assignments. They couldn't forget about the work, but they also couldn't bring themselves to spend the festival miserably rushing through it.
So they decided to celebrate the holiday—nervously!
Yes, the homework wouldn't get done but Halloween only came once a year; with the exception of a few Ravenclaws, no one was willing to give it up.
Lucian continued to help Filch decorate the Great Hall and quickly completed his task, during this time, Filch struck up a conversation with him again.
"Professor Lucian—" His expression was hesitant as he pulled a rather familiar-looking handgun from his pocket.
"I hear this is an alchemical weapon you made?"
"Yes," Lucian replied, his tone colder than usual. "And I believe it doesn't belong to you."
A flash of disdain crossed Filch's face, but in front of Lucian his attitude immediately became timid, as he replied "I know. I confiscated it from a naughty young wizard. Don't worry—I'm only holding it for a while. Once he's reflected on his behavior, I'll naturally return it to him."
"A young wizard who'd been caught by Filch—could it be the fourth-year playing Ryan?" Lucian regarded Filch expressionlessly.
"Y-yes, that's right." Under Lucian's gaze, Filch grew visibly nervous; He saw a glimmer of hope in Lucian and feared rejection.
He chose his words carefully, trying desperately not to displease him "This alchemical weapon of yours seems to directly guide students in casting fixed spells? I—I think that kind of guidance might be useful for me too, but it requires too much magic. I can't manage it."
Filch stared at Lucian with eager hope and Lucian almost immediately understood what he meant but didn't respond immediately.
Seeing Lucian remain silent, Filch looked disappointed but pressed on "I was hoping you could make me a simpler alchemical tool—one that guides a very basic spell, like Lumos, perhaps?" His expression was almost pleading as he looked at Lucian "Anything I can do for you, just name it. As long as you help me, I'd even be willing to become your servant!"
"We're colleagues. There's no need for that." Looking at the old Squib who had longed for magic for years, Lucian shook his head and stopped him from bending his knees.
"I can design an alchemical tool that meets your needs. You only have to promise me one thing: before the end of today, this alchemical toy in your hand must be returned to its owner. Can you do that?"
"Yes! Absolutely! Thank you so much, Professor Lucian—you don't know—I—I've dreamed of learning magic my whole life—" Filch was incoherent, his lips trembling violently, teeth chattering, unable to form a complete sentence.
But after confirming that Lucian had agreed, he grew anxious again. Before leaving, he couldn't help asking once more "Is it really okay? I've hardly done anything for you."
"No need, Filch. If one day you truly can help me, I believe you will." Facing Filch's uneasy mood, Lucian gave him a mysterious smile.
If Filch truly gained the ability to cast spells this way, it would mean Filch had officially become a wizard and Lucian's help would be equivalent to giving him a completely new life.
Legend had it that in the wizarding world, when one wizard saved another's life, a certain bond formed between them; Lucian was rather curious to see whether that bond was mere coincidence or truly fated.
Though if possible, he hoped never to have to rely on it; but watching the pitiful yet detestable middle-aged man leave, another thought occurred to him 'If my alchemical weapon could really grant a Squib like Filch the ability to cast spells, it would be revolutionary in the wizarding world. In the field of alchemy, it would surely earn me considerable fame—perhaps even a good way to connect with Nicolas Flamel.'
In the past, to avoid war, he had lived under an alias, keeping a low profile, and thus remained largely unknown in the wizarding community but now that avoidance was no longer possible, should he consider changing his approach?
But once he chose that path, his only free weekends for quiet magical research would likely be completely taken up; moreover, he was still hesitant about whether to promote this kind of alchemical weapon.
If it remained limited to the school, it would just be a toy for students. Once released to the wider wizarding society, the consequences were something even Lucian couldn't fully predict.
'Never mind. Thinking too much was pointless. Everything depended on whether Filch's Squib condition could truly be cured through this method.'
On the night of the Halloween party.
Camille left reluctantly with Jeffery, Cedric following beside them with a slightly strained expression as for Lucian, he had no interest in Halloween.
That evening, he locked himself in the basement, quietly studying Fiendfyre. From previous research, they had confirmed the emotional hypothesis for Fiendfyre.
Satisfyingly, the curse's emotion didn't depend on the caster; the spell itself carried an inherent spreading property; In other words, using the magic freely required control more than intense emotion.
Rather than employing Fiendfyre on a large scale for attack, Lucian wanted to explore its potential in close combat.
Their main focus this month had been on using Fiendfyre's unquenchable and adhesive properties to create a small homing projectile effect. Instead of igniting large areas, they tried to instantly generate a "grain sized" Fiendfyre seed at the fingertip or wand tip.
If they could also incorporate transfiguration to shape the seed into a tiny creature, it might greatly increase the flame's power and flight speed but for now, that was far beyond reach.
For some reason, transfiguring large Fiendfyre was easy, but small Fiendfyre was not—and similarly, miniature Fiendfyre had reduced power and spreading speed.
After a month of stolen moments of study, the result was the small flame seed now quietly burning in Lucian's hand. The testing process, however, had completely defied his expectations.
Though the flame possessed spreading properties, its initial momentum was too weak—the spreading speed and power were both underwhelming, which meant that aside from deepening their understanding of Fiendfyre's characteristics, this month's research seemed to have yielded nothing.
But that was normal and Lucian was used to it and since the small homing projectile wasn't working well, it was time to change direction.
Note : Drop Powerstones.
∆ Want to read more [20+chapters] and support me; join me - Patreon.com/DawnOfBlood ∆
