In the Potions Professor's office.
Snape's words brought a slight grin to Lucien's face.
Old bat's not as cold as he seems, Lucien thought. Who says Westerners don't get personal connections? Total misunderstanding.
"Professor, is this your Halloween 'candy'?" Lucien teased.
Snape wasn't used to students joking with him, and it showed. He went quiet for a few seconds, taking a sip from his teacup before replying coolly, "If you say so."
Snape could tell the small pill Lucien had given him contained a rare ingredient. His pride wouldn't let him take advantage of a student, so he'd offered Lucien a choice of materials from his stores—a fair trade.
But Lucien framing it as a festive "trick-or-treat" moment? That caught Snape off guard. No one had ever dared come to him demanding "candy or chaos."
Lucien's quip made him want to laugh. Snape was still so guarded, never one to openly share his thoughts or feelings. If he'd been bolder back in the day, more direct, Lucien mused, maybe Harry would be a Snape instead of a Potter.
Well, maybe not. Snape's obsession with dark magic in his youth, hanging with the wrong crowd, had driven a wedge between him and Lily.
Tch, dark magic's a menace, Lucien thought. Twists your body, warps your mind, and leaves you single. Wonder if I could develop a dark spell with minimal side effects—or none at all?
But a powerful, effective spell with no backlash? That wouldn't even be dark magic. It'd be proper, shining white magic.
Evil magic's only evil if it comes with a cost, Lucien reasoned. Otherwise, if it's fast, strong, and harmless, that's not dark—it's legendary spellcraft!
Lucien stepped over to a row of cabinets, eyeing Snape's collection of ingredients.
No surprise from the youngest Potions Master.
Nothing on those shelves was ordinary. Rare, expensive, even near-impossible-to-find materials were neatly arranged.
Definitely worth getting on Snape's good side, Lucien thought. Makes grabbing supplies way easier.
Now, which to pick?
He scanned the shelves, suddenly understanding why some spent ages choosing jewelry or clothes. Part of him wanted everything; part of him figured he could save it for later, as it'd always come in handy.
As he browsed, Snape spoke up. "I heard you've been tutoring Harry, helping him with his studies?"
Lucien was caught off guard—not that Snape knew (Harry had mentioned Snape was aware), but that he was only bringing it up now.
What, didn't want to seem like he cared about Harry in front of others?
So prickly, Lucien thought.
"Yeah, how's his Potions work been lately?" Lucien asked.
"Passable," Snape said. "Better than at the start of term."
After a pause, he added, "Perhaps you should consider teaching someday."
That was as close to a compliment as Snape got.
Lucien caught the subtext and replied politely, "Thank you for the recognition."
Truthfully, Snape was impressed with Lucien—his work ethic, his demeanor, everything. He'd said before that Harry could learn a thing or two from him. At least he doesn't strut around with that infuriating face like his father, Snape thought.
Sometimes, Snape wondered what it'd have been like if Lucien had been sorted into Slytherin. The house cup would probably be theirs every year. In class, Lucien was always the first to finish tasks and earn points—so much so that it had become second nature to the professors.
After some deliberation, Lucien chose a dragon heartstring from the cabinet.
Other rare materials? He could hunt for those in the Forbidden Forest, which was practically a second home to him by now. Speaking of, I should check on Seleneia and the unicorns soon. Their pregnancy should wrap up in a couple of months.
As for the rest of Snape's stock, Lucien figured there'd be more chances to trade later.
Pocketing the heartstring, he said goodbye to Snape and made the rounds to other professors, exchanging Halloween greetings and chatting briefly.
Finally, he returned to his dormitory and slipped into the cozy nook of his bed's enchanted space.
Lucien retrieved the Mutable Flesh Puppet from the system space.
In its base form, it looked like a translucent pink jelly, with a perforated spherical core inside for adjusting its shape and consciousness level.
He tossed a handful of candies at it. The puppet extended pink, jelly-like tendrils, wrapping up the sweets and dissolving them instantly. According to the system, it could consume anything nutritious—easy to maintain.
Lucien tapped the puppet's surface with his wand, channeling magic into it. The core lit up and began to spin slowly as he pictured a creature in his mind.
Gloop!
The pink mass quivered, contracting and expanding. Seconds later, the jelly was gone, replaced by an alpaca tilting its head at Lucien.
Unlike animals conjured through Transfiguration, this one's eyes were strikingly lifelike, indistinguishable from a real alpaca.
"Alright, consciousness set to a standard animal's level," Lucien said.
He'd already tested it with plant-level consciousness, which was so weak it barely resisted his Transfiguration. Those transformations had been smooth.
With a tap of his wand, the alpaca began to morph.
A wine barrel appeared, but with an alpaca head still attached to the lid. The head glanced at Lucien, cheeks puffing as if ready to spit.
Another flick of his wand, and the alpaca head vanished, but the barrel now sprouted four legs, hopping around comically.
"First try at living-to-inanimate isn't quite there," Lucien muttered, watching the barrel scamper about. He reflected on the mistakes in his spellwork.
Animal consciousness was trickier—definitely a step up from plants.
Glancing at the four-legged barrel, he nodded. The Mutable Flesh Puppet's a gem. Any creature, adjustable consciousness—perfect for practice.
His goal? Master living transformations by Christmas and take a shot at becoming an Animagus.