The Forbidden Forest at dawn.
Lucien smiled as he looked at the baby unicorn. "How do you like the na? Or would you like to change it?"
"I… I really, really like it."
Having just been born, the little unicorn still struggled to communicate, but she did her best to express her happiness.
Aurora slowly walked toward him, and Lucien stepped forward a few paces, worried she might stumble.
Imitating her parents, Aurora pressed her small horn against Lucien's hand and gently rubbed it.
Perhaps because she was still so young, no blessed glow appeared, but it was enough to make Lucien smile warmly.
"Newt, this scene is truly beautiful, isn't it?" Dumbledore said as he watched Lucien interact with the little unicorn, adjusting his glasses and discreetly wiping the corner of his eye.
"Indeed—the birth of life, the charm of new beginnings."
Newt rubbed his palms together softly. He had assisted in the birth of countless magical creatures, yet none had left such an impression as this night.
He had personally perford a cesarean section on a unicorn, witnessed a young boy save a newborn life, and seen sothing that bordered on the miraculous.
And now, that boy had also received the Unicorn's Blessing—a rare, no, a historically rare honor.
Newt felt that Lucien had a deep affinity with magical creatures. Perhaps…
"Lucien is truly suited for a career related to magical creatures."
Hearing this, Dumbledore—who knew his old friend well—smiled.
"What, are you hoping he'll take over your position one day?"
"Haha. Newt, you might not know this, but Lucien also has an exceptional talent for teaching. Who knows—he might end up staying at the school."
Newt nodded.
"Hmm, that would ultimately depend on Lucien's own wishes."
"By the way, what career preference did he express during his fifth-year career guidance?"
Newt's question left Dumbledore montarily at a loss. He couldn't predict the future, so how could he know Lucien's aspirations four years from now?
"Er… that, I don't know either."
Newt turned to look at Dumbledore, not expecting that he hadn't even pay attention to such an outstanding student like Lucien, and what he might want to do after his graduation.
He then looked toward Lucien, who was currently playing with the little unicorn.
Although it was a pity that Lucien wasn't in Hufflepuff—after all, Newt firmly believed Hogwarts was the finest magical school and Hufflepuff the finest House—it didn't stop him from admiring this Ravenclaw junior.
He was knowledgeable and kind-hearted, able to get along effortlessly with magical creatures.
He was also very handso, and his age looked… wait—his age?
Now that everything important had been settled, Newt finally had ti to observe Lucien carefully. This was their first ti eting in person; before this, they had only corresponded through letters.
Newt had always assud Lucien was a sixth- or seventh-year student. After all, only soone who had received several years of solid education at Hogwarts could consult him on such complex matters—whether it was the Undetectable Extension Charm or detailed knowledge about the habits of magical creatures.
But now, looking more closely, Newt felt sothing was off.
Lucien didn't look like a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old at all. At most, he was…
"Dumbledore, what year is Lucien in now?"
…
Inside the Headmaster's Office.
Dumbledore, Newt, and Lucien sat around a table.
Several small cakes were arranged on it.
"Oh, do try them all. A cup of black tea in the morning, paired with sweet, delicious cakes, can wash away any fatigue," Dumbledore said leisurely as he took a sip of tea with milk and sugar.
This ti, neither Lucien nor Newt hesitated. After all, they had been busy for most of the night, and a bit of sugar really did help soothe both body and mind.
Watching Lun play with Fawkes, Dumbledore's eyes curved with a smile as he said:
"Hehe, Lun, would you like to try so? I highly recomnd this lemon cake."
"Thank you, Headmaster Dumbledore."
Lun used a small cloud to lift the lemon cake from the table, bringing it to its mouth and taking a careful bite.
Fawkes, however, showed no interest. Having followed Dumbledore for so many years, he had seen far too many sweets and long since grown bored of them.
Still, Lun's ethereal voice echoing directly in his mind made Dumbledore exclaim in amazent.
"Lucien, I truly didn't expect you to have such a magical companion. To be honest, I think Lun's uniqueness is no less remarkable than Fawkes's."
As he spoke, Dumbledore glanced again at his old companion. The brilliant red phoenix stood atop the pale yellow cloud conjured by Lun, even pecking at it curiously, clearly intrigued by the unusual cloud.
"By the way, what species is Lun? I don't recall there being such a magical creature."
Hearing Dumbledore's question, Lucien set down his spoon and answered honestly, just as he had with Newt.
"A qilin. Lun is a qilin."
"A qilin?"
Lucien's answer clearly took Dumbledore by surprise.
When it ca to qilins, Dumbledore rembered them clearly.
Grindelwald had once attempted to control a qilin to further his sches, and that plan had ultimately been thwarted by Newt, who used another genuine qilin.
Yet Dumbledore found it difficult to associate the qilin he knew with Lun before him.
There was the difference in appearance— the qilin Dumbledore was familiar with resembled a large deer—while Lun appeared far more majestic, carrying an unmistakably otherworldly aura.
Their abilities were even more disparate. Dumbledore knew that qilins could perceive hearts, distinguish good from evil, and thereby choose the most suitable leader.
He himself had once been chosen as the Supre Mugwump by a qilin. The Supre Mugwump is the elected chairman and leader of the International Confederation of Wizards, in those turbulent tis, he had to take the position even though he had no intentions to beco the leader of the wizarding world.
But everything Lun had displayed—riding upon yellow clouds, Apparating freely through Hogwarts' protections, blood brimming with imnse vitality—made it hard for Dumbledore to believe that Lun was the sa kind of qilin he knew.
"Lun is indeed sowhat different from ordinary qilins," Newt said, taking a sip of his black tea—without milk or sugar, naturally.
"This may be a powerful and beneficial mutation. After all, there is still so much about magical creatures that we don't yet understand. Magic itself is wondrous; one never knows what kinds of creatures or miracles it may give rise to."
"And Lun's blood and saliva contain extraordinary vitality, which would easily draw the attention—and malice—of those with ill intentions."
Hearing Newt vouch for Lun, Lucien felt deeply grateful.
As the most renowned authority on magical creatures, if Newt said sothing was a magical creature, then it was one; if he called it a mutation, then it was a mutation.
Dumbledore also nodded and spoke solemnly.
"I understand what you an. Don't worry—Hogwarts is very safe. With here, no one will harm Lucien or Lun."
Those words carried imnse weight, coming as they did from the greatest and most powerful wizard alive.
Still, Lucien couldn't help grumbling inwardly.
Yes, everyone was very safe at Hogwarts.
Except for the Boy Who Lived, Harry fucking Potter…
________
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