For the next few days, Lucien's life settled into a rare, peaceful rhythm.
Classes in the mornings.
Laughter in the afternoons.
Quiet nights filled with conversation and shared moments.
He spent his time with Hermione, Katie, Clara, Angelina, Susan, Daphne, Cassandra, Evelyn, Penelope, Tonks, and Akeno—their bonds deepening naturally.
What started as friendship slowly warmed into something more.
Not rushed.
Not forced.
Just one careful step away from love.
Lucien noticed it—but chose patience.
Good things shouldn't be hurried, he decided.
Sometimes he joined Cedric for long talks about Quidditch and responsibility.
Other times he vanished with the Weasley twins, helping them refine ideas that were equal parts brilliant and dangerous.
The Alchemy Notebook
With Alchemy Mastery now fully integrated, Lucien began seeing flaws—tiny ones—in existing theories.
Not mistakes.
Gaps.
He questioned reaction timing.
Stability layers.
Catalyst substitutions.
Every doubt, every observation, every "what if" was written carefully into a thick notebook, its pages filling rapidly until it resembled a massive diary.
When it reached nearly two hundred pages, Lucien closed it.
"…Time to ask," he murmured.
The Third Floor
That evening, Lucien approached the third-floor corridor.
The stone gargoyle turned its head.
"Oh," it said dryly.
"It's you again."
Lucien smiled.
"Evening."
The gargoyle huffed.
"Inside. No password."
And simply stepped aside.
The Headmaster's Office
Lucien entered calmly, greeting the portraits as always.
Phineas Nigellus Black inclined his head.
"You have my thanks again, boy. For the Black family."
Lucien bowed slightly.
"Evelyn is my friend. That's all."
Several portraits murmured approvingly.
Dumbledore looked up from his desk, smiling warmly.
"What brings you here this time, Lucien?"
Without a word, Lucien placed the massive notebook on the desk.
"I have questions," he said simply.
Dumbledore raised a brow, then picked it up.
Page after page passed.
Minutes turned into silence.
Fawkes fluttered down and landed on Lucien's shoulder, chirping softly.
Lucien chuckled and offered him a Dragonite treat.
Fawkes ate happily.
From the floor, Alolan Vulpix padded over, rubbed against Lucien's leg, and purred insistently.
Lucien sighed.
"Yes, yes… you too."
He handed her a treat.
The portraits laughed quietly at the scene.
Even Dumbledore paused, smiling before continuing to read.
Dumbledore's Judgment
Finally, Dumbledore closed the notebook.
"These observations," he said slowly,
"are unique. Insightful. And… ambitious."
Lucien nodded.
"You ask the right questions," Dumbledore continued.
"And your proposed improvements—some of them could reshape modern alchemy."
Lucien listened silently.
"I will send this," Dumbledore said, tapping the notebook,
"to an old friend of mine. One of the finest alchemists alive."
Lucien bowed his head.
"Thank you, Professor."
Dumbledore smiled warmly.
"You continue to impress me, Lucien."
Lucien offered a small smile in return, then turned and left the office—
unaware that even Dumbledore now viewed him not just as a student…
…but as a peer in the making.