The Magic Core
Flames burned a fiery red, and tendrils of smoke drifted away.
Lucian and Dumbledore suddenly materialized in the Headmaster's Office.
Fawkes, who had brought them back, flapped his wings and settled into his perch to begin napping.
"Well, now that you've had a look at the magical core of Hogwarts, what are your thoughts?"
Dumbledore settled into his large Headmaster's chair, conjuring tea and pastries as he questioned Lucian, who was standing opposite him.
Lucian paused for a moment, then took the multi-colored crystal ball from his pocket. The emotional energy contained within had reached the vessel's limit.
Before the Basilisk incident, Dumbledore had promised Lucian he could observe the magical core of Hogwarts.
It took Dumbledore a few days to get his affairs in order, both inside and outside the school, before he could fulfill that promise. After all, the Basilisk event had caused a massive upheaval, and the elderly wizard was exhausted from dealing with the reactions of all parties involved.
"It is profound. The magic core has sustained this ancient castle's operation for over a thousand years. The methods of the four Founders are truly astonishing."
Lucian rotated the crystal ball in his palm, pausing before adding hesitantly:
"However, I feel that the emotional energy and magical power accumulated in the core might be a bit… redundant?"
As long as young witches and wizards were active in the castle, the core automatically collected their stray emotions and magic for the castle's daily operation.
But in reality, based on Lucian's observation, the input was greater than the output.
It was reasonable to assume the situation had been similar for the past millennium, leading to a truly immense accumulation of emotions and magic in the core.
Dumbledore used his Headmaster's authority to extract some of this emotional energy and gifted it to Lucian, completely filling the crystal ball and meeting the minimum standard for refining the Philosopher's Stone.
Sipping his piping-hot, sweetened black tea, Dumbledore comfortably leaned back in his chair, completely dropping his formal Headmaster's facade. The past few days had been frantic, and he was finally able to relax.
Hearing Lucian's answer, Dumbledore chuckled:
"I suppose you were about to say that all that magic and all those emotions are just 'going to waste' and could be put to better use?"
Lucian scratched his cheek with his index finger, feeling a little awkward that Dumbledore had guessed some of his private thoughts.
For the Philosopher's Stone, the purest and most suitable primary ingredient was the residual soul energy left upon human death, but in the current age, such large-scale "collection opportunities" were hard to come by.
Nicolas Flamel's alternative solution was to collect emotions, which are the colors of the soul. As long as they are purified and refined using the correct methods, they remain usable.
Truthfully, upon discovering such a vast emotional treasure trove hidden within Hogwarts Castle, Lucian felt quite tempted.
"Ahem, Headmaster, I did think that, but the school has been standing for a thousand years. Surely others have had similar ideas during that time, yet the emotions and magic still exist there. Doesn't that imply there are corresponding limitations or difficulties?"
Seeing that Lucian had quickly grasped this layer of complexity, Dumbledore nodded gently, put down his teacup, and said:
"Firstly, emotions. There are indeed very few ways to utilize this special 'material.'"
As soon as Dumbledore finished, Lucian realized he was right. The methods that Professor Flamel taught him for collecting and purifying emotions were extremely complex, and he hadn't heard of any other instances where emotions were treated as a "material."
"Secondly, magic. That magical power is not the magic of any single person. It is the residual magic that has escaped from generations of young witches and wizards, collected and preserved by the core's unique mechanism. It is too fragmented."
Lucian's confusion was resolved. Purer magic is always better, and the magic in the castle core originated from an impossibly large number of sources.
"Headmaster, so the utilization efficiency of that magic is very low? Is sustaining the castle's daily operations—like the changing staircases—the limit?"
"Roughly so," Dumbledore swallowed a piece of sweet Chocolate Frog. "And mobilizing it requires the Headmaster's authority. If you decide to become Headmaster in the future, you can certainly try it out."
Lucian couldn't help but feel a flush of embarrassment, thinking the position of Headmaster was still a distant prospect.
After exchanging a few pleasantries, Dumbledore suddenly asked:
"By the way, Lucian, would you be interested in an exchange program at another school for a period of time?"
An exchange program at another school?
Did Hogwarts even have such a program?
Seeing the look of confusion on Lucian's face, Dumbledore began to explain:
"A few days ago, Olympe Maxime, the Headmistress of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, wrote to me, hoping to organize a three-school competition involving Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. It would primarily be for exchange, but also as a warm-up for a grander event…"
Lucian was naturally surprised by the idea of an exchange competition.
This wasn't in the original books. Could Beauxbatons, which is so far away, really have been affected by the changes I've caused?
The Butterfly Effect?
Can the flap of a tiny butterfly's wings potentially trigger a storm thousands of miles away across the ocean?
As for the grander event, Lucian immediately guessed he meant the infamous Triwizard Tournament.
The Goblet of Fire.
Lucian was quite intrigued by this unexpected exchange competition, precisely because its existence seemed to be a distant consequence of his own actions.
"Headmaster, will the competition take place at Beauxbatons? And what are the events?"
Dumbledore nodded.
"It will indeed be at Beauxbatons; the grounds there are quite beautiful. As for the events, they haven't been finalized, but Headmistress Maxime suggested…"
As he spoke, Dumbledore smiled knowingly at Lucian and slowly uttered a single word:
"Alchemy."
Alchemy?
That would be quite advantageous for Beauxbatons.
Lucian remembered discussing the French school with Nicolas Flamel. Thanks to Flamel's sponsorship and support, Beauxbatons' Alchemy curriculum was far ahead of almost every other magic school in the world.
However, since it was just an exchange competition, essentially a trial run for the future Triwizard Tournament, winning or losing wasn't overly critical…
As Lucian pondered, he caught sight of the expression on the old Headmaster's face and suddenly felt a hunch, asking cautiously:
"Headmaster, you're not planning to send me, are you?"
Dumbledore spread his hands innocently.
"Is there a problem with that? Lucian, look at how many magical artifacts you've created this term. It would be a simple matter for you, and besides, you just looked rather interested in the competition."
Lucian opened his mouth, feeling like Dumbledore's entire conversation was a setup.
"Er, Headmaster, may I ask why you chose me?"
Although Lucian had a rough idea of the answer—no doubt that his Alchemy skills were good enough for Dumbledore to trust, and that a young person should travel to broaden their horizons and enjoy themselves, and so on…
"The reason? I think the sight of Nicolas Flamel's student representing Hogwarts and winning an Alchemy-focused competition on Beauxbatons' home turf would be quite a spectacle."
Dumbledore's matter-of-fact tone made Lucian's eyes widen in rare surprise.
What in the world is the old Headmaster saying?
The aroma of black tea and pastries lingered in the Headmaster's Office.
Lucian stared blankly at the smiling Dumbledore.
Is it possible that the sudden release of stress after days of intense pressure has made the old Headmaster throw caution to the wind?
No, that's not right either. Dumbledore was always composed and steady when facing major events, but he occasionally made strange and abstract remarks in everyday life.
Remembering that he was dealing with an eccentric old wizard, Lucian gave a helpless smile.
"Headmaster, about this competition…"
Dumbledore waved his hand.
"Don't worry. When you return from the exchange competition, I will refill one of your emotional crystal balls. If you win, I'll refill three."
That would be enough to refine several more Philosopher's Stones. It's inconvenient to only have the one Professor Flamel gave me, always having to dismantle and reinstall it…
Lucian wore a troubled expression, hesitating before saying:
"If I win, can you refill five?"
Dumbledore paused, surprised that Lucian was actually bartering with him. He burst into laughter.
"No problem."
"It is an exchange competition; the scale won't be too large. I expect it will take place next term…"
After discussing the event for a little longer, Lucian took his leave.
Once Lucian had left the Headmaster's Office, Dumbledore pulled open a drawer and took out the old diary. He ran a finger over the cover, tracing the marks left by the Basilisk venom and the gash made by the Sword of Gryffindor.
The segmented Elder Wand appeared in Dumbledore's hand. Fine, almost invisible strands of magic extended from the tip, probing the surface of the Horcrux.
As time passed, Dumbledore lowered his wand, removed his half-moon spectacles, and gently massaged his temples.
Tom not only refused to communicate with Dumbledore but had also completely sealed off the Horcrux's core, slowing Dumbledore's progress to a crawl.
This was a Horcrux, a realm of Dark Magic.
While Dumbledore's own talent for Dark Magic was exceptional, he had ultimately chosen not to pursue mastery in that field.
After the tragedy of his youth, he began to exercise restraint, reducing his study of the Dark Arts.
"Someone skilled in Dark Magic…"
If there was a wizard in the world whose expertise in Dark Magic was great enough to offer Dumbledore advice regarding the Horcrux…
Dumbledore's thoughts slowly drifted toward Nurmengard.
### 📰 The Journalist
Time quickly advanced to the Christmas holidays.
The Ministry of Magic.
"Mr. Fudge, I thought this matter would be handled by the Auror Office. I didn't expect you to take charge personally."
"Oh, those magical artifacts concern the safety of my Aurors, so I must take a personal interest! Lucian, it is astounding that you are so young and yet can produce items of such high quality. Truly an inspired genius…"
"You flatter me. The wizarding world is fortunate to have such a responsible Minister of Magic as yourself…"
Lucian exchanged pleasantries with Fudge, preparing to leave the Ministry.
Almost immediately after the holidays began, he received an invitation from Fudge, who wanted to discuss the purchase of Lucian's defensive magical artifacts face-to-face.
The Ministry of Magic originally had relatively fixed Alchemy partners, but Lucian's products were of superior quality, offered greater functionality, and Fudge was keen to network with Lucian.
In any case, the old contractors weren't being dismissed right away; their portion of the contract would simply be reduced over time.
Lucian was naturally delighted to have the Ministry of Magic as an official channel for his business.
Aside from wealthy pure-blood families who valued their lives, the largest customer base for defensive artifacts were the Aurors.
Compared to most wizards, who lived stable lives, Aurors faced a linearly increasing probability of danger and accidents during missions. Any extra protection was welcome.
Lucian and Fudge walked toward the Atrium, chatting amiably.
At that moment, a pair of eyes behind jewel-encrusted spectacles were surveying both Lucian and Fudge, though mainly focusing on Lucian.
Rita Skeeter hadn't expected to run into the "big celebrity" of recent days just by coming to the Ministry.
The massive incident at Hogwarts a while ago had been the talk of the wizarding world: a thousand-year-old Basilisk was in the castle!
The snake was used by a perpetrator to commit heinous crimes, but it had all been stopped by a student.
Conveniently, some of the onlookers were students who enjoyed taking pictures and managed to capture many moments.
These photographs spread quickly, and the most classic and widely circulated one was:
A young wizard, holding a longsword, striking at the Basilisk under the accompaniment of pale lightning and golden fire on a dark, rainy night.
Rita thought the student who took the photo was incredibly lucky; they managed to snap such a stunning picture at such a young age—a natural talent for reporting.
Thanks to the photo's circulation, Rita recognized the young man next to Minister Fudge instantly.
Lucian Grafton!
As soon as Lucian parted ways with Minister Fudge, Rita patted her elaborate, stiff curls and clip-clopped toward Lucian on her high heels.
Rita stopped in front of Lucian and offered a professional smile, just about to speak—
"Rita Skeeter? Can I help you with something?"
Lucian preempted her question. He had noticed her gaze moments ago and, after a brief thought, guessed her identity.
It wasn't a difficult guess, as the person in front of him was quite "distinguished."
Her blonde hair was set in large, hard-looking curls that looked odd paired with her broad-chinned face.
The hands gripping her crocodile skin handbag were large, like a man's, but adorned with bright red fingernails at least two inches long.
The key was the spectacles.
Lucian's first thought upon seeing the jewel-encrusted glasses was how ugly they were. Combined with her other features, he was able to match the person to the name.
Being preempted and having her identity revealed, Rita's smile froze, but she quickly recovered.
"Heh, I'm honored that Mr. Grafton recognizes me.
"The truth is, your name is all the buzz in the wizarding world lately. I am a reporter for the Daily Prophet, and I was wondering if I could arrange an interview with you?"
Lucian did not reply immediately, but Rita waited patiently. She figured it was normal for a young genius like him to be arrogant or eccentric.
If the interview didn't happen now, it was no matter. Rita planned to transform into a beetle and sneak into Hogwarts later. That way, she could capture Lucian's true nature and find more interesting information…
Only, the school year was almost over when the Basilisk incident was resolved, so Rita hadn't rushed to Hogwarts. Now that she had bumped into Lucian, there was no harm in asking.