The Burrow's shed.
"Lucien, Muggles have this box that makes ice cubes all by itself—no Freezing Charm needed! Isn't that wild? Did they trap a tiny, friendly frost sprite inside? Does it need feeding?"
"Uh, no sprite in there. It works by…"
Arthur Weasley—Mr. Weasley to most—was elbow-deep in a car engine, chatting with Lucien about Muggle life.
Mostly, Mr. Weasley fired off the weirdest questions, and Lucien did his best to explain Muggle tech in wizard terms.
"And Muggles have this thing—no owls needed—just push a few buttons and you're talking to soone miles away. What is that?"
Lucien knew he ant cell phones. While rattling off the basics, his brain started spinning.
The wizarding world still used parchnt and owls. Why not upgrade to sothing faster?
If they cracked long-range voice transmission spells…
Heck, bundle in visuals too—the principles weren't that different.
Magic skipped steps Muggles needed decades to invent. One solid breakthrough and—boom—wizard smartphones.
Control the cost, make 'em mass-producible, and you've got a bestseller.
Owls might be out of a job… but hey, they could still do packages.
Lucien shelved the idea and focused on the car.
Mr. Weasley had dragged him out to see an old, rusty heap—clearly itching to slap so magic on it.
"Flying's so handy—why don't Muggles just add that to cars?"
Lucien's mouth twitched. Buddy, they did. It's called an airplane.
They stripped the car down—ditching bulky, useless parts, swapping in alchemical gadgets. Mr. Weasley waved his wand, etching spell-runes like a pro.
"Ron ntioned you've dabbled in alchemy, Lucien. Figured you'd get a kick out of this. Oh—and thanks for tutoring the boy. He used to give gray hairs…"
Lucien pitched in with tweaks while Mr. Weasley rambled.
"Lately I've been raiding wizard hos—you know, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. We ban enchanting Muggle stuff in case it gets back to them…"
Lucien side-eyed him. Aren't we… literally doing that right now?
The car was barely recognizable—half Muggle junk, half glowing runes.
He's the cop and the criminal. No wonder he's chill.
The shed was a Muggle-tech hoarder's dream—most of it definitely enchanted.
Does he ever have coworkers over? One peek and he's busted for life.
"Sothing's missing…" Mr. Weasley muttered, scratching his chin.
Lucien offered helpfully, "Invisibility Charm? Muggle cars don't usually fly."
"OH! Right, right—thanks, Lucien!"
Mr. Weasley clapped and got back to it.
Lucien helped out, then added a tiny array after the charm went on.
"Lucien, what's that? I… don't quite follow."
Mr. Weasley squinted at the runes, baffled.
"Auto-trigger array. The second the car takes off, it flips on invisibility. Keeps Muggles from spotting a flying Ford Anglia—saves headaches."
Mr. Weasley smacked his forehead. "Brilliant! You kids think of everything!"
As they wrapped up, he added quickly, "Lucien—don't ntion the car to Molly. She's… not a fan of my 'projects.'"
Lucien nodded. No worries. The Chosen One's about to joyride it anyway.
---
Lucien knocked lightly on Ginny's door.
He'd lent her his Sniffer, Goldie, for a few days. Ti to reclaim the little guy before he bankrupted the Weasleys.
Click.
The door opened—but it wasn't Ginny.
A stranger stood there: silvery eyes, dirty-blonde hair, permanently startled look, pale skin, faint brows.
Radish earrings. Butterbeer-cork necklace.
Yup. That's Luna.
He'd never t her, but the vibe scread Loony Lovegood.
"Ah, Lucien."
Ginny scooted over, handing back the Sniffer while introducing the girl:
"This is Luna—Luna Lovegood."
"Her family lives in the village too. Neighbors."
"Her dad runs The Quibbler—it's this magazine about… 'rare' stuff."
Lucien eyed the dreamy girl. Yup. Luna.
Rumor had it she saw things others couldn't. Thestrals were real—just invisible to anyone who hadn't seen death.
"Hey, Luna. Lucien Grafton."
He stuck out a hand. Luna just… stared. Silver eyes blank.
Awkward silence stretched.
Then, in her floaty voice: "You're… special."
---
"Special?"
Lucien blinked. First eting—why the random label?
He kept it gentle. "Luna, why do you say I'm 'special'?"
She tilted her head, gaze drifting over him.
"You don't have a single Wrackspurt around you. Amazing. I've never seen that."
"Wrackspurts?"
Loony indeed. She saw invisible creatures—her and her dad, anyway.
Luna nodded, stepped closer, and fanned the air by his ears with both hands.
"Mm. Wrackspurts—they're invisible. Float into your ears, make your brain go fuzzy."
"Weird. You were just confused, but they still didn't co near you."
She pinched the air by her own ear, like grabbing a bug.
"Look—even if I put one right here… it flees?"
She held her pinched fingers toward him.
Lucien's eyes swirled black—Demon Eye activated.
Nothing there.
No magic trace. Luna was… sothing.
"But you've got tons of other things around you. Weird shapes. I've never seen them—like… like they're from another world?"
The black swirls in his pupils froze.
What does she SEE?
His soul was from another world. And "tons of things" ca with it?
He narrowed his eyes—wary, but curious.
Ask what they look like—
"Nope! All gone! Poof—whoosh!"
Luna gasped, eyes widening. She spun around him, hunting the vanished "things."
"Did you eat them?"
She looked up, voice dreamy but question wild.
Lucien blinked. Brain jump scare.
Classic Loony.
He glanced at baffled Ginny.
Not the ti. Chat later.
"Ginny, gotta head ho for dinner. Oh—Goldie's adorable, just… maybe ease up on the pocket snacks?"
"See you at school, Lucien."
Luna bounced off without waiting.
Lucien took the Sniffer from Ginny, frowning.
Not fat. Perfectly cuddly…
---
A few days later—Diagon Alley.
"Auntie, that's Gringotts—second-safest place after Hogwarts. Wizard bank…"
"That's Ollivanders—my wand's from there. Two thousand years of wandmaking…"
"That owl shop's Eeylops—you wanted a pet owl, right?"
Lucien gave Aunt Penelope the full tour of wizard London's shopping strip.
First ti here, Penelope's bright eyes soaked it all in, chatting with her nephew about magical oddities.
Back-to-school rush: little witches and wizards with parents or professors, stocking up.
Lucien was starting second year—new textbooks, that's it.
Second-year schedule dropped Broom Flying but stretched the rest.
"LUCIEN!"
A bushy-haired witch dashed over, ponytail bouncing.
Hermione greeted him, then turned super-polite for Penelope.
She was trying hard to look poised—not wanting to flop in front of Lucien's aunt.
They'd t at his birthday party, but Hermione still marveled: Lucien's aunt is gorgeous!
Also: His family's loaded in the Muggle world. Untouchable elite.
But Penelope was warm—no pure-blood snobbery.
Hermione relaxed. Good upbringing shows.
That party was the first ti everyone learned Lucien's parents died young. He'd never ntioned it—always acted mature.
Hermione felt a pang. Tough guys have soft spots too.
She and Lucien swapped sumr stories while Penelope watched, smiling.
Obvious crush, she thought. And that blonde Greengrass girl from the party…
Penelope was chill about Lucien marrying a witch—as long as he liked her.
They hit Flourish and Blotts.
"BIG NEWS!"
"Internationally fad author, recipient of the Order of rlin, Third Class, five-ti winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award, Honorary mber of the Dark Force Defense League, author of bestsellers Break with a Banshee, Gadding with Ghouls, Holidays with Hags…"
"GILDEROY LOCKHART!"
"Signing in thirty minutes! Buy his books now, line up early!"
"One lucky fan wins a photo with Mr. Lockhart…"
Lucien raised an eyebrow at the looping ad.
Ah. Future DADA prof. Fraud extraordinaire.
Stole others' stories, Obliviated them. Master-level mory Charms, though—might be worth learning.
While Penelope chatted with the Grangers, Lucien slipped away.
Ti to lock in that deal from last week.
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