Back in his dormitory, Lucien was still pondering the "magic of love."
The story that Lord Voldemort had been defeated by Harry Potter had spread everywhere.
Everyone praised Harry as the Boy Who Lived, a legend who had defeated the Dark Lord.
But the truth was that Harry's mother, Lily Evans, had used her own life and her love for Harry to cast a protective charm.
It was this magic that protected Harry and caused Lord Voldemort's Killing Curse to rebound.
And because of this magic, not only was Lord Voldemort unable to harm Harry, he would also suffer severe backlash the moment he touched him.
Dumbledore's final words were,
"Love is the greatest magic in this world. It has created countless miracles and given birth to infinite possibilities."
Lucien believed this. At the time, Lord Voldemort had been at the height of his power, and aside from figures like Dumbledore, very few could have stopped him.
But Lily did.
She did not defeat the formidable Dark Lord as a witch, but as a mother protecting her child.
Love was probably something Lord Voldemort could never understand.
Tom Riddle's birth itself had perhaps been a mistake, a child conceived under the influence of a love potion. How could he ever understand love?
Lucien sat down at his desk and pulled out a book.
He slowly turned the pages until he reached the one marked by a bookmark.
A dark bookmark lay quietly between the pages, its wispy feathers sparse and ethereal.
It was one of the bookmarks Hagrid had given him, made from Thestral tail feathers.
Only those who have witnessed death can see Thestrals.
Lucien twirled the Thestral bookmark between his fingers. It felt cold to the touch.
"I can see Thestrals now too."
…
Early the next morning, Lucien sat in the Great Hall eating breakfast. There were few young wizards around at this hour, most of them still asleep.
With no academic pressure, summer vacation was just around the corner.
This week was the happiest and most relaxing time for the young wizards.
However, there were a few exceptions.
"Wood, we really want to win the Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor too."
"But Harry isn't here, and it's really hard without a Seeker."
The Weasley twins went back and forth, trying to ease Wood's impatience. There was no helping it. Although exams were over, the Quidditch final was still ahead.
So Wood had everyone practicing frantically. With Harry joining this year, Gryffindor was finally one step closer to the Quidditch Cup they had not won in years.
But Harry fell ill at the crucial moment.
"No, we still have to do our best, squeeze out every last bit of potential…"
As Lucien drank his red bean porridge, he glanced in the direction of the Weasley twins.
Oliver Wood was the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.
According to Harry, Wood was incredibly passionate about Quidditch, often dragging players out early in the morning to discuss tactics and practice.
He was strict with both his teammates and himself.
Seeing the slight redness in Wood's eyes, Lucien shook his head almost imperceptibly. This fellow was truly unlucky. He had finally found a talented Seeker, only to miss out on the championship again.
After a few more words, Wood still led his teammates away, preparing to head to the Quidditch pitch for training.
As they left, Fred and George noticed Lucien. They seemed to want to say something, but in the end only waved before leaving dejectedly with their brooms.
"Good morning, Lucien."
Lucien, who had just lowered his head, looked up again. A black-haired girl was already sitting across from him.
"Morning, Cho. Are you going to practice Quidditch as well?"
"Yep."
Just like during regular training, Cho still had her hair tied in a neat high ponytail. She had probably just finished her morning practice, as there were still fine beads of sweat on her forehead.
"Lucien, you seem a bit more relaxed today."
Cho looked at the cute boy in front of her and suddenly said this.
Lucien did not find it strange.
In his year at Hogwarts, he had learned a great deal and also paid off two heavy, time-consuming annual loans. Naturally, he felt much more at ease.
Although he still had one annual loan left for the Magic Weaving Technique, which required him to train Norbert into a dragon king for his clan, it had only just begun and was still in its foundational stage.
"Maybe it's because exams just ended, so I feel debt-free and light-hearted?"
Lucien's words made Cho cover her mouth and laugh softly.
"Lucien, you make it sound like you took out a loan just to go to school."
"Oh, by the way, you'll be a second-year next term. Do you want to try joining the Quidditch team?"
Quidditch?
He felt it was more interesting to watch others play. Come to think of it, how many times had Cho tried to persuade him to join?
This senior really did seem quite passionate about the sport.
It reminded him a little of his university days in his previous life, when seniors would try to get him to sign up for cards. "Uh, Cho, I'll see next term. For now, I wish you good luck with your match."
…
Lucien went to visit Harry and Ron in the infirmary.
Ron had already woken up and was enjoying his hospital meal.
Harry, however, was still in a coma, likely because his soul had been affected during his contact with Lord Voldemort.
As for whether anything had gone wrong during Lucien's control of Harry's flight, Lucien was quite confident. He had even cast the Iron Head Charm on the boy, so the protection had been more than thorough.
It was during these days of Harry's coma that the Quidditch final finally concluded.
Positions like Chaser and Beater were manageable. If someone was absent, they were simply absent, at most weakening offense and defense.
But the Seeker was far too important.
Catching the Golden Snitch was worth 150 points, often enough to decide the match on the spot.
Once a team lost its Seeker, the opposing Seeker could focus entirely on finding and catching the Snitch.
As a result, in their match against Ravenclaw, Gryffindor lost by a crushing margin, once again missing out on the championship.
However, this was only minor news.
What truly captured everyone's attention was the big event.
The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Quirrell, had actually coveted a treasure of Hogwarts.
A Dark Wizard had really infiltrated the school.
"I told you, based on my observations, there was something off about Quirrell!"
"Oh, come on. How many Defense Against the Dark Arts classes were you even awake for?"
"Sigh, is our school's Defense Against the Dark Arts position really cursed?"
"Who says it isn't? Since I started here, not a single professor has lasted a full year!"
Such discussions could be heard everywhere in the school. Lucien caught snippets of them several times a day.
Aside from the students' natural curiosity and love of gossip, it was probably also due to old Dumbledore's subtle guidance.
Although Harry was only a first-year, Dumbledore had already begun building his reputation.
He wanted to nurture Harry's courage and confidence, and also reinforce his image as a savior.
Suddenly, the sound of hurried footsteps approached, followed by Ron's voice, breaking into Lucien's thoughts.
"Lucien, I finally found you! Harry—Harry wants to see you."
________
(^///^) Please support this fic and also read 12 chapters ahead at Patreon.com/DrakDevil1