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In the suitcase world, inside the iron house where Nagini was kept, silver-white mist filled the air.
The humanoid Patronus half-crouched beside the massive green snake, its semi-illusory hand resting gently on the serpent's forehead. The scene was peaceful and quiet. The only sound in the iron house was the slow, steady breathing of the great snake, wrapped in the mist and seeming especially serene.
Lucien stood to one side, watching the Patronus soothe Nagini's soul. Its power was both stabilizing her and pushing back against the curse inside her, creating a layer of protection for the spell he was about to cast.
The past few weeks of experimentation had given him a clearer picture of his own Patronuses. Each form carried its own strange traits. The giant serpent Patronus had always been the largest, and the more magic Lucien poured into it, the bigger it grew. He had tested the limit—even when he was nearly drained, the serpent kept expanding. With enough power, it might one day encircle the entire world. Of course, that was still far beyond him.
The humanoid Patronus, by contrast, was the most efficient. Summoning it barely interfered with his ability to cast other spells at the same time.
Lucien raised his wand and drew a slow breath.
"Obliviate."
A faint blue light extended from the tip and settled gently over Nagini's forehead.
The spell had originally been meant to erase memories, but after repeated trials Lucien had discovered a more refined use. By calling up Nagini's strongest human memories, he could use them as a weapon against the beast's frenzy. The Obliviation Charm could delete and rewrite, but it could also guide and restore.
Lockhart—that vain, self-promoting fraud—had actually done serious work on memory magic. Whether it was reviewing memories or reshaping them, his techniques were sharp. A wizard's focused talent in one narrow field could produce real results.
Lucien had inherited those methods and improved on them.
Countless images flickered through the pale blue glow—broken, chaotic, like old photographs scattered by wind. These were Nagini's memories from when she had still been human, buried deep beneath layers of the curse in the ruins of her soul.
He saw scenes: iron cages, tents, streets, forests. He saw faces: brown curly hair, freckles, mismatched eyes, blue flames.
Lucien recognized familiar people, though all of them appeared much younger.
Newt Scamander, before his hair had turned white, his curls still brown and his face covered in even more freckles. Tina stood beside him in an American Auror's uniform, her expression serious. Dumbledore was there too, decades younger, his eyes carrying far less exhaustion and sorrow.
Then came a sea of blue fire. It filled nearly half the vision, burning against the night sky—vivid, dangerous, and strangely beautiful.
Lucien didn't push deeper. The fragments were too disordered. Forcing his way in could damage Nagini's already fragile soul. He withdrew his magic. The pale blue light slowly faded.
The brief treatment ended.
The humanoid Patronus released its hand and stood. The silver-white glow around it dimmed and vanished into the air. The green serpent lay quietly coiled in the corner, her breathing even and long.
Lucien stepped out of the iron house and pulled the heavy door shut behind him.
He rubbed his aching temples and pulled SwiftSpeak from his pocket. His fingers slid across the smooth page as he checked the unread messages. His gaze stopped on the last one.
The sender was Dumbledore. The message was short—just three words:
"Rosier."