Early the next morning, Lucien walked into the private alchemy lab assigned to him by Beauxbatons.
The mont he stepped across the threshold, several subtle yet precise waves of magic washed over him like an invisible scanner, checking him gently but thoroughly.
This was a security asure to ensure fairness, preventing competitors from smuggling in unregistered items.
The room was spacious and bright, fully stocked with every type of alchemy equipnt imaginable—from brass scales and multi-spout cauldrons to precision crystal cutters.
On the shelves lining the walls, all the materials Lucien had registered and submitted yesterday were already sorted and neatly stacked.
The rules for the "Free Transmutation" round were strict. Competitors had to register all materials in advance, and the school took custody of them until the round began.
Every entry and exit involved the sa magical security check. Aside from a wand, no personal items were allowed—especially not containers with Undetectable Extension Charms.
If a competitor needed to restock materials halfway through, they would have to file a new request and go through the entire inspection process again.
Lucien scanned the room, confird everything was in order, walked to the center of the workbench, and drew his wand.
The transmutation began.
---
anwhile, thousands of miles away, deep in a prival forest in Albania.
Cold mist clung to the bare, skeletal branches of the trees.
Newt Scamander trudged through the silent woods, his breath condensing into white puffs of fog with every exhale.
It had been over two weeks since Lucien had tipped him off that a unique, massive snake might be living in this forest—and that it was highly likely to be Nagini, his old friend afflicted by the Blood Malediction. Upon hearing this, Newt had dropped everything and rushed here to begin this needle-in-a-haystack search.
Albania was a small country with a sparse wizarding population; it didn't even have a formal Ministry of Magic.
But precisely because it lacked civilization's heavy touch, the land was a haven for rare magical beasts.
Unfortunately, that richness also attracted the greed of Dark Wizards and illegal poachers.
Newt was no stranger to this land, having visited multiple tis in the past to protect the creatures here.
Before officially entering the forest, Newt had followed his usual routine and contacted a local "snake in the grass"—a Portkey dealer he was quite familiar with.
It was a necessary evil. At his peak, Newt had been banned from entering over a hundred countries. Governnts found his "trouble magnet" constitution—and the chaotic surprises living in his suitcase—to be a massive headache.
These grey-market Portkey dealers had beco his primary thod for traversing the globe to continue his work protecting magical creatures.
They also tended to know secrets from the darker corners of the world that you couldn't find in the papers.
The dealer's intel had given Newt hope: about a month ago, a woodcutter had indeed spotted a "bizarre, terrifyingly large" snake on the edge of the forest.
That news lifted his spirits. This forest was as vast as an ocean, with dense vegetation. Finding a single snake here was usually impossible.
Furthermore, it was the dead of winter. Ordinary snakes would be deep in hibernation.
Newt was banking on the hope that Nagini, having been permanently transford by the blood curse, possessed habits different from ordinary serpents and could still move about in the cold.
Reaching a relatively open clearing, Newt stopped. He set down his weathered suitcase with practiced ease and flipped the latches.
The mont the lid popped open, a dozen agile figures shot out with whooshing sounds.
There were Crups—looking remarkably like Jack Russell Terriers but for their forked tails; Nifflers with eyes darting around in search of shiny things; and ash-gray Tebos...
They were all expert trackers.
Newt then pulled a handful of small magical amulets from his pocket. These were alchemical items Lucien had given him specifically to guard against ambush.
He carefully placed one on each of the little creatures preparing to set off.
"Please, fellas," Newt whispered softly. "Help find my old friend."
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