Some of the awakened Headmaster portraits turned their gazes toward Lucien and Dumbledore. Their expressions held concern, scrutiny, and curiosity, yet all seemed to carry the same subtle thought: this child was certainly bold.
To ask the Headmaster of Hogwarts, the greatest wizard of the century, Albus Dumbledore himself, to teach him curses from the Dark Arts?
Dumbledore did not answer immediately.
He picked up his teacup, found it empty, and poured himself another cup.
Steam curled upward from the hot tea, partially obscuring Dumbledore's bright blue eyes.
In the quiet Headmaster's Office, the faint sound of tea pouring into the cup seemed exceptionally clear.
"Curses..." Dumbledore repeated slowly, his tone giving away nothing. "That is a very deep field of study. Lucien, may I ask what has suddenly sparked your interest in it?"
Through the rising steam, Dumbledore looked directly at Lucien.
His gaze was gentle, yet unmistakably probing, as though it could pierce through any disguise and reach the depths of a person's heart.
Lucien met his gaze without flinching or showing the slightest nervousness.
He had known this question would come sooner or later and had already prepared an answer.
Previously, the two of them had held an in-depth discussion about the Dark Arts.
At the time, Lucien had clearly expressed his view: magic was ultimately a tool wielded by wizards, rather than something that should control the wizard.
If an ordinary young wizard said such a thing, Dumbledore would simply consider them young and arrogant and would try to advise and guide them.
However, Lucien's talent for the Dark Arts happened to be exceptionally high. So high, in fact, that the Sorting Hat believed his aptitude in the field surpassed even Dumbledore's own.
This meant that when Lucien learned and used the Dark Arts, the backlash and influence he suffered would be far less severe than for an ordinary person.
As long as he did not become obsessed with pursuing the Dark Arts or hopelessly addicted to them, he was unlikely to follow the same path as Tom Riddle.
Furthermore, Dumbledore already had a ready-made example in mind: Gellert Grindelwald, an undisputed master of the Dark Arts.
Dumbledore knew his old acquaintance well. Beneath Grindelwald's carefree and unrestrained exterior lay a cold ruthlessness. He was extremely self-centred, yet knew how to restrain himself. He was brilliant and extraordinarily talented, but his ideals were far too radical...
He was a man full of contradictions.
Dumbledore also knew that these contradictions stemmed partly from Grindelwald's innate personality and partly from his mastery of, and exposure to, the Dark Arts.
Grindelwald treated the Dark Arts purely as a tool. He still learned other charms, studied Transfiguration, and even cultivated magical plants...
All forms of power were merely tools, all in service of achieving "The Greater Good."
Because of this, Grindelwald was never obsessed with the Dark Arts themselves. Combined with his extraordinary talent in the field, this attitude prevented the Dark Arts from completely influencing his mind.
Voldemort, by contrast, had embraced the Dark Arts wholeheartedly. In his pursuit of immortality and the overwhelming power needed to preserve it, he cared nothing for the distortion of his body or soul. As long as he could live, and live forever, that was enough.
As Dumbledore thought about this, he suddenly realised that in certain respects, Lucien and Grindelwald actually shared some similarities.
Whether it was their talent and aptitude for the Dark Arts or their attitude toward the Dark Arts themselves.
For a moment, a trace of realisation and recollection flickered through Dumbledore's eyes behind the veil of steam.
The Headmaster portraits quietly watched the scene. None of them spoke to interrupt.
Faced with Dumbledore's question, Lucien had already prepared what he wanted to say. He sat up straight, his tone calm and sincere.
"Recently, Mr Scamander mentioned that he has a friend who is a Maledictus, tormented by a curse that transforms her into a beast. I want to see whether I can find a way to cure her."
Dumbledore's grip on his teacup tightened slightly.
He knew exactly who Lucien was talking about.
Nagini.
Back then, she had been both a comrade and a friend to Dumbledore and Newt.
That woman who had struggled against the blood curse before eventually leaving without a word...
Memories of those years spent fighting side by side surged through Dumbledore's mind.
His blue eyes remained slightly obscured by the rising steam. For a moment, he seemed lost in thought before murmuring, almost as if he had only just understood,
"You want to learn the Dark Arts... in order to save someone?"
Lucien met Dumbledore's gaze without flinching and was just about to answer when...
"Hmph."
A slightly shrill voice came from the direction of the Headmaster portraits.
Phineas, who had just returned from his portrait at the Black ancestral home, overheard the conversation the moment he stepped back into his frame in the Headmaster's Office.
He first glanced toward Sharon's portrait to make sure the bespectacled Ravenclaw Headmistress wasn't there. All that could be seen within the frame were rows of neatly arranged bookshelves stretching away into some unknown corner.
Presumably, Sharon was either reading somewhere behind one of the bookshelves or had already retired for the night.
The level of intelligence possessed by magical portraits varied.
The portraits of former Hogwarts Headmasters were among those with particularly high intelligence and a greater degree of freedom.
After all, they were responsible for offering advice and solutions to the current Headmaster. If they could only mechanically repeat a few phrases, they would hardly be capable of fulfilling that duty.
Phineas then glanced at Morgan's portrait and found that the reckless, foolish lion who knew nothing but duelling was also absent.
That meant he wouldn't have the back of his head smashed with a book as thick as a castle brick, nor would he be caught in a chokehold or elbowed.
Once he was certain it was safe, Phineas spoke in his slightly shrill voice.
"Albus, this boy is finally showing his true colours! Don't be deceived by him. This is only a test. Once he gains your trust, Albus, he'll gradually become even more audacious, just like Tom Riddle deceived Armando back then!"
Hearing this, Lucien turned to look at the portrait of Hogwarts' most unpopular Headmaster.
Phineas was stroking the goatee on his chin while eyeing Lucien with scrutiny and suspicion, as though he were sizing up a wolf cub attempting to sneak into a sheepfold.
Lucien didn't mind. It was a perfectly normal reaction.
After all, anyone would be wary of a young wizard who was still in school suddenly asking to learn curses from the Dark Arts.
Lucien's gaze shifted slightly as he looked to see whether the portrait of Headmaster Armando, whom Phineas had just mentioned, was present.
Fortunately, he wasn't.
Armando Dippet, the Headmaster of Hogwarts before Dumbledore and the man who had held the position during Tom Riddle's school years, was currently absent from his portrait, having wandered off to some unknown corner.
Otherwise, the old wizard, already more than three hundred years old, might have been deeply wounded by Phineas's harsh words.
Armando had been deceived by the carefully crafted image of a "model student" that Tom presented during his years at Hogwarts.
Had Dumbledore not seen through the young Tom's true nature and repeatedly warned Armando, the old Headmaster might truly have agreed to let Tom remain at Hogwarts after graduation as the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.
Wouldn't that have been opening the door for the future Voldemort himself?
So if Armando had heard Phineas's words, they would surely have made the already guilt-ridden former Headmaster feel even worse.
Although portraits couldn't actually suffer heart attacks, they could certainly still feel a stab of pain.
This time, none of the other Headmaster portraits spoke up to contradict or mock Phineas.
They were taking the current conversation just as seriously.
Although Phineas's words were unpleasant, they more or less reflected what the other portraits were thinking.
A young wizard who was still in school wanted to learn curses from the Dark Arts?
And his reason was to save someone?
Wasn't that a little too absurd?
The portraits watched silently as the firelight from the hearth cast flickering shadows across their faces.
A few of the sharper former Headmasters vaguely sensed that something about Dumbledore seemed different. He wasn't quite as calm and composed as usual.
Logically speaking, there should have been very few people or things capable of making Dumbledore lose his composure.
Lucien turned his attention back to Dumbledore, though not before casting Phineas a quick glance.
Ha. Sooner or later, I'll have to visit your Black ancestral home and ask that house-elf for Voldemort's Horcrux.
I just hope you don't happen to be visiting home when I do.
________
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