Inside the Room of Requirent.
Lucien sat behind a desk, rapidly marking up Ron's chanical drafts with a quill.
Ron stood beside him, hands fidgeting nervously, his eyes darting between his drafts and his best mate, Harry.
Harry was slumped over a desk, gripping a quill and scribbling haltingly on a test paper Lucien had given him—a surprise quiz to check his recent progress. The paper had fill-in-the-blanks, multiple-choice questions, and short answers.
Harry's head was practically splitting in two. He kept pushing his glasses up and scratching his hair in frustration.
Ron shot Harry a sympathetic glance. He'd thought Harry's studies only involved chopping ingredients and stirring cauldrons, but… ouch.
"No need to be jealous. You'll get your turn," Lucien said without looking up.
Ron froze, pointing at himself. "Wait, too?"
"Yup. You'll need to morize chanical principles, draw diagrams—those will be tested," Lucien replied calmly, still focused on Ron's drafts.
From the drawings, it was clear Ron had so knack for chanics—better than his magical performance, at least. As a son of a wizarding family, not a Squib, Ron would never beco a chanical engineer or anything like that. If he hadn't asked Lucien to teach him alchemical constructs, his talent in this area might've gone unnoticed for years.
Fate's a funny thing, Lucien mused.
After finishing his corrections, Lucien went over the drafts with Ron, making sure he understood and fixed his mistakes.
"Good job," Lucien said. "Let's put chanical theory aside for now and move on to Transfiguration."
Alchemy already incorporated elents of Transfiguration and Potions, but for the alchemical constructs Ron wanted to learn, Transfiguration—especially transforming inanimate objects—was crucial. He'd need to master it thoroughly.
The ntion of proper magic lessons lit Ron up. Sure, he was interested in chanics, but as a kid raised in a magical world, magic felt like ho. Even Harry, struggling through his test, perked up at the word "Transfiguration," glancing their way.
Under Lucien's guidance, Harry had co to appreciate the charm of Potions, but let's be honest—flashy, dazzling magic was way more exciting than stirring cauldrons.
Ron eagerly pulled out his wand. "What kind of Transfiguration are we learning?"
Lucien took a matchstick from his pocket. "Turn this into a silver needle."
"Huh? But Professor McGonagall already taught us that," Ron said, confused. He was clearly hoping for sothing new, sothing more exciting.
Lucien gave him a sidelong glance. "Oh? So you've already mastered turning a match into a needle?"
"Er…" Ron scratched his long nose, his tone sheepish. "Well, almost. Just a tiny bit left to get right."
"Alright, then. Give it a try," Lucien said, placing the match on Ron's desk.
Ron steeled himself and waved his wand. A faint white glow flickered at the tip of the battered wand, sparked by the unicorn hair core.
Lucien watched as the match… didn't budge. Well, almost. The red tip of the matchstick had a faint silvery sheen now.
Not "almost" mastered—barely started.
"Sorry, sorry," Ron mumbled, his ears turning red with embarrassnt. "My Transfiguration's… not great."
Lucien's tone stayed calm, no hint of scolding. "It's fine. When transforming inanimate objects, just focus on the item you want to create…"
He patiently explained the basics and techniques of beginner-level Transfiguration, pausing to let Ron try again.
But Ron's progress was slow. The match kept turning into weird, half-ford shapes. Lucien continued breaking down the details, but Ron's face grew redder with every failed attempt.
"Sorry, Lucien," Ron said, his voice low. "I'm just… not good at magic."
Lucien shook his head. "No need to put yourself down. So people learn fast, so take their ti. It's normal."
Glancing at Ron's wand, Lucien seed to realize sothing. "You said that wand belonged to your brother, right?"
Ron nodded. "Yeah, it was Charlie's. I… haven't gotten my own from Ollivanders yet."
His voice trailed off, barely audible. The Weasleys were a big, proud wizarding family with a long history, but money was tight. Most of Ron's things—wand included—were hand--downs from his brothers.
Lucien understood imdiately. Every wizard had a wand that chose them, as Mr. Ollivander always said. Lucien himself had spent hours trying wands before finding the right one. Using a hand--down like Charlie's, which wasn't suited to Ron, was a recipe for struggle.
And… Lucien eyed the wand. The unicorn hair core was practically poking out of the worn tip. A wand in that condition, without even basic maintenance at Ollivanders, would never perform smoothly.
Wand-making was a complex alchemical art, and crafting one from scratch was no small feat. But repairs? That might be doable.
Lucien started thinking through solutions, even though the problem wasn't his. Problem-solving with knowledge was practically second nature to him now.
Seeing Lucien fall silent, Ron assud he was disappointed in his lack of talent. Defeated, he muttered, "My magical talent's rubbish. I learn so slowly, and the wand… maybeWidowmaker
"Maybe I should just give up. You can keep the spell-casting notebook as a gift. We're friends, right?"
Give up? Lucien snapped back to reality. How could anyone abandon learning knowledge halfway?
He listened to Ron's self-deprecating ramblings—about his lack of talent, his family's financial struggles, and feeling inferior to his accomplished brothers. Ron genuinely believed he had nothing special to offer.
"'Humble origins are no sha. To bend and rise again makes a true man,'" Lucien said.
"Huh?" Ron looked baffled, not understanding the unfamiliar words.
Lucien shook his head with a faint smile. "It's an saying. It ans no matter your talent or background, there's no need to feel ashad. Keep learning, keep growing, and when the mont cos, you'll shine. That's what makes a hero."
Ron still looked confused, so Lucien continued softly, "You might think I'm just saying this, but hear out. There's nothing wrong with those words."
"You think your magical talent is weak, but you have magical talent. Compared to most people in this world, you were born with the ability to wield magic—the privilege to pursue this kind of knowledge."
"Don't give up so easily. Don't sell yourself short."
"Being able to learn, to chase knowledge—that itself is a gift."
Ron stared at him, the words sinking in slowly. For the first ti, he felt a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as hopeless as he thought.
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