Lucien held a box in one hand and the letter delivered by Fawkes in the other.
Following the instructions in the letter, he arrived in front of a dilapidated red telephone booth.
"This should be it."
He pulled open the door, stepped inside, and dialed the number on the keypad: 62442.
"Hello. May I have your name and the purpose of your visit?"
A clear, feminine voice suddenly sounded, but not from the telephone.
Instead, it seemed to come from thin air, as though the speaker were standing directly in front of Lucien.
He was not surprised. Headmaster Dumbledore's letter had already explained everything in detail.
"I am Lucien. I'm here to register my Animagus form with the Ministry of Magic."
After Lucien introduced himself and stated his purpose, the voice did not respond right away.
Was it possible that this telephone booth was old and in poor condition, and that the magical device was malfunctioning?
Surely the Ministry of Magic would not be short on funds to this extent.
Just as Lucien was considering whether to take out his wand to fix it, the female voice spoke again, her tone carrying a trace of surprise and confusion that she was clearly suppressing.
"All right. Processing your request now."
In less than a second, a silver badge was ejected from the telephone dial.
Lucien's name and purpose were inscribed on it.
Immediately afterward, the entire telephone booth began to descend slowly, like an elevator.
Passersby showed no reaction at all, as if they could not see the scene.
After descending for about a minute, it finally came to a smooth stop.
Lucien stepped out of the booth, and what greeted him was a spacious hall with polished dark wooden floors and a peacock-blue ceiling threaded with shifting golden runes.
"So this is the Ministry of Magic."
This was Lucien's first visit, and he deliberately chose to experience the entire process, following the standard route for those handling official business.
As for Ministry of Magic employees, they either Apparated directly or flushed themselves down through a public toilet.
Very few people, however, chose the latter.
After registering his wand at the security checkpoint, Lucien followed the instructions in the letter and took the Ministry's internal lift down to the first basement level.
He gave the office door a light knock, and it opened automatically.
"Haha, Cornelius, I'm merely bringing the child in for registration. There's no need to trouble the Minister for Magic to personally oversee it."
"Albus, my old friend! You're far too polite. How could such a thing be considered 'trouble'?"
Lucien recognized the familiar voice as Dumbledore's. As for the other voice, with its practiced, speechlike cadence, it belonged to—
Behind a desk that looked rustic but was clearly quite expensive sat an elderly man with fluffy white hair, wearing a pinstriped suit and a bright red tie.
Cornelius Fudge.
The current Minister for Magic.
Fudge saw the handsome young man standing by the door and compared him with the information in the files. Dark green eyes, dark golden hair. Everything matched.
He rose from behind his large Minister's desk and walked around it, his face split into an overly enthusiastic smile as his gaze locked onto Lucien.
"You must be Lucien. A truly remarkable young man. Please, come in."
"Minister."
Lucien nodded politely in greeting, neither flattered nor intimidated.
After all three of them had taken their seats, Dumbledore, sitting beside Lucien, spoke.
"Cornelius, your duties are already quite demanding. Animagus registration, under normal procedures, can be handled by the Office for the Improper Use of Magic."
"Normal procedures? Oh no, no, no!"
Fudge waved his hand vigorously, turning a smile he clearly meant to be genial toward Lucien.
"This is hardly a 'normal' matter, my boy. You're only twelve—no, you haven't even reached your twelfth birthday yet—and you've already become an Animagus!"
"Merlin's beard! This is simply… simply a miracle!"
Lucien was already accustomed to Fudge's effusive flattery.
Although this was his first time meeting the Minister for Magic, Lucien had long since grown tired of such praise even before entering Hogwarts. Whether out of genuine admiration or respect for Aunt Penelope, many people had spoken to him in much the same way.
At least in this regard, wizards were not very different from Muggles.
Despite the admiration filling Fudge's words, Lucien could tell that the Minister was also quickly assessing his value, as well as the significance of Dumbledore's personal appearance.
Fudge spoke to Dumbledore with feeling, allowing the "seriousness" in his tone to outweigh mere courtesy.
"Albus, we have to acknowledge this. Lucien is no ordinary genius. This is… a talent that may be rare in the magical world for the next hundred years!"
"His achievements warrant attention and records at the Ministerial level."
He said this for Dumbledore's benefit, signaling that he recognized Lucien's talent and was willing to give both Dumbledore and the child due respect.
At the same time, it was also meant for Lucien, an early gesture of goodwill and recruitment.
Lucien maintained an impeccable, polite smile. The first part was inconsequential; the latter was what truly mattered, especially the emphasis on sincerity.
Although Fudge lacked the ability and courage to change the course of history, in times of peace, he was more than adequate.
Dumbledore nodded mildly.
"I understand your good intentions, Cornelius. Shall we begin the registration, then?"
"Of course, of course!"
Fudge replied at once. A document flew out of his drawer—not an ordinary registration form, but a more formal file edged with gold.
"The process is very simple, my boy. You only need to perform a Transfiguration here, in front of Headmaster Dumbledore and myself. We'll confirm your Animagus form and record it."
Lucien looked up, first at Dumbledore, who gave him an encouraging, gentle look.
Then he turned to Fudge and said softly,
"As you wish, Minister."
There was no incantation, not even a distinct preparatory movement.
In the next second, a soft light flashed through the office, and Lucien's figure vanished.
In his place stood an ordinary-looking owl, its wings slightly spread as it nodded toward Fudge.
"Truly excellent Transfiguration. It's still astonishing to see it in person. An Animagus at this age…"
Fudge praised him lavishly as he wrote down notes.
After the registration was completed, the three chatted for a short while before Dumbledore took Lucien and left.
While they were riding the lift, Dumbledore suddenly handed Lucien a card.
"I hear you've just returned from the United States. You must have had quite an enjoyable trip. I wonder if you'd be willing to go to France next?"
France?
Lucien accepted the card with a puzzled look, his fingertips brushing against its texture.
Dragonhide. And proper dragonhide at that, not some hybrid material made from ground dragons.
A golden key pattern shimmered in the center of the card, with illusory runes flickering on and off, the key trembling slightly, its tip always pointing in a certain direction.
This thing seems to be... Lucien, with a guess, flipped the card over and, upon seeing the text on the back, knew he was right:
Nicolas Flamel
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