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Lucien said quick goodbyes to Harry and the others, then left the Great Hall. No morning classes meant he could head straight to the headmaster's office.
Ron watched Lucien's back disappear through the doorway, then his eyes dropped to the untouched basket of steamed buns still sitting on the table. Following the sacred rule of never wasting food, he dragged the basket over and got ready to finish them off.
"Say, Hermione," Ron mumbled around a mouthful of bun, "what exactly did that mist look like last night? Silver-white and glowing?"
Before Hermione could answer, Ron kept going.
"Kind of like that little silver bird that just showed up copying Dumbledore's voice—"
He didn't finish. His face turned bright red and he started choking, eyes bulging.
Harry and Hermione both shook their heads in perfect sync.
Harry slid his glass of milk across the table without a word—clearly not the first time this had happened.
Ron grabbed the glass, gulped down several loud swallows, and finally cleared his throat. He took a deep breath like nothing had happened and continued.
"Ahem. That mist the bird turned into when it disappeared was silver-white and glowing too. Didn't it look just like last night's mist?"
Hermione froze.
Now that Ron had said it out loud… it actually did.
...
Headmaster's office.
The moment Lucien stepped inside, he noticed Fawkes looking completely wiped out, curled up in his nest like he hadn't slept either.
Huh. Even phoenixes could pull all-nighters?
No wonder Dumbledore had used his own Patronus to send the message instead of Fawkes.
Come to think of it, this was the first time Lucien had seen Dumbledore's Patronus in person—a phoenix. It fit the headmaster perfectly.
Most witches and wizards summoned ordinary animals. Only a rare few produced magical creatures like dragons or night-bred horses. The greatest wizard of the century obviously belonged to that special group—especially since he already had a phoenix of his own.
As soon as Lucien sat down, a steaming cup of red tea appeared in front of him. The amber liquid gave off delicate wisps of steam, and a small piece of honey candy rested on the rim.
Dumbledore sat across from him, blue eyes studying Lucien carefully from behind his half-moon spectacles.
Seeing the boy's tired, slightly pale face, he stated rather than asked, "Overdid it with magic?"
Lucien wasn't surprised to be called out so directly. A hundred-year-old wizard's eyesight was sharp; there was no hiding something this small.
"Last night while I was practicing…" Lucien picked up the teacup, choosing his words carefully, "I lost control."
Dumbledore nodded, not pressing for details. Instead he spoke with genuine concern.
"You still need to be careful with your body. You're young—you can't just burn through your magic because you think you have plenty to spare. Magic takes time to recover. Pushing too hard now will hurt your future growth. In the long run it's never worth it."
Lucien nodded again and again. The headmaster was right, and he knew he'd earned the lecture.
After a few more gentle reminders, Dumbledore's tone lightened and he smiled.
"Last night the castle's core suddenly picked up quite a lot of emotional energy."
Lucien set his teacup down, a rare flush creeping across his face—partly from the hot tea, mostly from embarrassment.
Emotional energy.
If his Patronus mist had made everyone remember happy memories, all that positive emotion would naturally spill out as energy. And Hogwarts's magical core just happened to collect exactly that kind of power…
Case closed. Ironclad evidence.
Lucien opened his mouth to explain, but Dumbledore spoke again, his voice a touch more serious.
"In the future, please do not attempt to brew a Philosopher's Stone inside the school. Not even a simplified version."
Given the level of alchemy Lucien had already shown with all his inventions, Dumbledore figured his old friend Nicolas Flamel had probably already taught the boy—at the very least—how to make a simplified Stone.
After years of friendship and joint alchemical research with Nicolas, Dumbledore knew exactly how spectacularly wrong a failed Stone could go.
So he took the chance to give a proper warning.
Lucien lowered his head, a little ashamed, and scratched his cheek without thinking.
The headmaster was basically afraid he'd blow up the school.
Honestly, with his current skill level, he should, probably, almost certainly not cause a disaster that big… but then again, last night's Patronus Charm had been the perfect example of "should have been fine."
He'd thought he could handle it. Instead the whole castle got hit.
If something similar happened while brewing a Stone…
"I'll make sure to find a remote spot from now on," Lucien promised.
Satisfaction flickered in Dumbledore's eyes. He took a sip of tea, set the cup down, and looked at Lucien with those kind blue eyes.
"So… how did it feel, using the Patronus Charm for the first time?"