Harry ruffled his messy black hair. After visiting his injured teammates in the Hospital Wing, he wandered alone through the corridor.
What should have been a routine Quidditch practice had unexpectedly escalated into a wizarding "war."
As for punishment, Professor McGonagall had initially been furious. It had been years since such a large-scale brawl had occurred.
But after learning the cause of the conflict, she became even angrier. She gave a few brief instructions before leaving her office, saying she was going to Professor Snape to demand an explanation, questioning how such blatant discrimination could be allowed at Hogwarts.
Professor McGonagall only symbolically confiscated Ron's air gun and assigned him and Hagrid to patrol the Forbidden Forest for half a day. She did not mention Flint's injuries or any compensation for the damaged broom.
Given Ron and Hagrid's relationship, it was little more than taking a walk with a friend, and since it was during the day, it was even less of a concern.
In any case, Ron had already run off excitedly to Hagrid's hut, muttering about finding materials in the Forbidden Forest to make a new air gun and perhaps adding extra functions to it.
Harry wasn't sure whether he should have reminded Ron of anything. He only felt that Ron was becoming more and more like Mr. Weasley. They truly were father and son, both fond of tinkering with all sorts of strange contraptions.
As for Hermione… just thinking about her gave Harry a headache. After everything, her eyes had still been a little red when she came to find him.
Harry had originally thought Hermione was upset about Flint's insult of "Mudblood." He himself hadn't known what it meant at first, but after Ron explained it, he understood how vicious the word was and realised just how outrageous that crude Slytherin captain had been.
He had been wondering how to comfort her, but instead she asked a rather puzzling question—whether he could brew a potion that could change teeth.
At first, Harry was confused, but then he realised that perhaps Hermione really was bothered by the comment about her front teeth.
As a friend, Harry naturally wanted to help. He said he would check through some books to see if there were any relevant potions.
After thanking him, Hermione also told him he didn't need to help her get back at Flint. She had already cast a number of Charms at that scoundrel on the spot, and if he dared provoke her again, she would use the methods Lucien had taught her to show such arrogant fools the power of knowledge.
Harry firmly believed her. He had seen how quickly Hermione could cast spells, and he also knew that Lucien often said, "Knowledge is power," which was absolutely true in the magical world.
Harry also remembered that he hadn't asked Lucien what he had been doing that morning, returning from the Quidditch pitch with a broom. Nor did he know where Lucien was now.
…
Headmaster's Office.
Although the incident with Quirrell in their first year had long passed, Lucien and Dumbledore had, by coincidence, maintained the habit of having afternoon tea together once a week.
"Headmaster, these are some sweets I made. Would you like to try them?"
Lucien pushed several packets of sweets and snacks of various kinds toward Dumbledore. Interest flickered in the Headmaster's eyes as he picked up a packet and examined it.
"Hmm, they do look quite delicious. But will there be any… unexpected effects after eating them?"
Dumbledore immediately recognised the unusual nature of these sweets, which was well within Lucien's expectations. After all, the greatest wizard of the century was no novice in Alchemy.
What a pity. The old man had picked up a batch of hair-colouring potion sweets. Lucien wouldn't get to see him with dyed hair for long.
"But I still want to try them."
Dumbledore popped a yellow, disc-shaped sweet into his mouth and chewed with a crisp crunch.
"Oh, lemon flavour. Not bad, not bad."
The next second, his silver-white hair and beard turned bright yellow, matching his robes rather well.
Noticing the change, Dumbledore simply chuckled and stroked his beard, clearly finding it amusing. He then picked up a purple sweet and ate it, and his hair and beard turned purple.
Before long, Dumbledore finished the entire packet and asked what kind of sweets they were.
"Headmaster, these are Skittles. Each colour corresponds to a different flavour. They mainly function as a hair-colouring potion. As for the effect… you've already seen it."
Dumbledore nodded and picked up another packet.
"And what about this one? It looks quite elastic."
Lucien explained,
"These are gummy candies. After eating them—"
Before he could finish, Dumbledore had already begun "testing" them.
After swallowing one, Dumbledore's body seemed to turn rubbery, his fingers stretching like elastic.
Unlike the Skittles, these gummy candies produced the same effect regardless of colour or flavour, but Dumbledore still ate them one after another, nearly finishing the entire packet.
He truly was like an old honeybee, completely taken with these sweets.
Thinking about it, Dumbledore's emotions were remarkably rich, almost comparable to those of a child or teenager.
Lucien glanced at the multicoloured crystal sphere in his pocket, silently collecting these emotions as material for the Philosopher's Stone. At the same time, he could "see" the vivid and abundant emotions emanating from Dumbledore.
"They taste excellent, and the effects are very interesting. This old man quite likes them, so children will certainly like them too."
As he spoke, Dumbledore picked up another packet of sweets and opened it.
"Speaking of which, Lucien, you've invented quite a few alchemical items and potions this semester, and even had the Weasley twins help sell them."
"It seems you've learned a great deal from Nicolas."
Lucien nodded and refilled Dumbledore's empty teacup with honey water.
"My teacher's guidance has benefited me greatly."
Dumbledore smiled, unable to suppress a sigh.
"When Nicolas wrote to me, saying you would be his final student, I was truly surprised. I had thought that after turning his attention to the 'next great adventure', he would no longer concern himself with worldly matters."
In fact, Dumbledore had long known of Nicolas's regret—that he had never found a suitable successor to inherit all his knowledge of alchemy.
But from the tone of Nicolas's letter, Dumbledore understood that he regarded Lucien as a true heir, a student to whom he could entrust his legacy.
Dumbledore was pleased, both for his old friend Nicolas in finding a successor, and for Lucien.
He understood Lucien well. He was someone who was eager to learn and pursue knowledge.
And in the field of alchemy, no one was more accomplished than Nicolas Flamel.
"Oh, right, Lucien, those two Transfiguration papers you wrote over the summer are about to pass review for Transfiguration Today."
"Haha, at your age, being able to publish in an authoritative magical academic journal must be unprecedented."
As Dumbledore spoke, he recalled another matter, one that required his attention as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.
"Lucien, do you have a formal set of robes? The kind worn for award ceremonies?"
________
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