Grafton Manor.
"This is my first time visiting," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Your home is lovely, though the size is a bit tough on an old man's legs."
He'd known Lucien came from money, but the sheer scale of the place still caught him off guard. Wandering through it felt like navigating a maze.
Lucien chuckled. "First headmaster home visit, and my aunt's not even home. What a shame."
Dumbledore glanced around the sitting room. Ordinary little trinkets sat on the windowsill. Plain landscape paintings hung above the fireplace. Oddly shaped plants filled the corners.
"You've made the place… quite secure."
Lucien didn't bother denying it. "The wizarding world isn't always peaceful. I'm gone most of the year. Feels wrong to leave the house wide open."
Dumbledore nodded. Looking after family was only natural. Most witches and wizards layered protective charms over their homes. Without the right key or password, even someone standing at the front door couldn't see or touch the place. Pure-blood families were especially obsessive about it.
Lucien hadn't hidden the entire manor, though. This was still Muggle territory. His aunt, the staff, and any guests who visited were all non-magical. Dumbledore's quick scan picked up several trigger wards. He didn't pry further. That would've been rude.
"By the way," Dumbledore said, "Hagrid came to see me before the holidays. He was asking about Care of Magical Creatures for next term."
His blue eyes twinkled with quiet amusement.
"I don't even remember deciding to make him the new professor. Maybe I've been too busy and my mind's finally going in my old age?"
Lucien gave a helpless little smile. "I just guessed."
Dumbledore hummed and stroked his beard. "Hagrid really is an excellent choice. He knows creatures better than most, and I'm sure the students will love him."
He paused, then shifted tone. "It's a shame. For a moment I thought you might have the gift of prophecy. That you could actually see the future."
Lucien's smile turned awkward.
Dumbledore studied him for a moment. "Prophecy is a rare gift. I recommend you take Divination next term. You might have a talent for it after all."
Lucien kept his real thoughts to himself. Divination was pure talent. The current professor mostly just played the part except during her rare genuine flashes. He simply nodded.
"Perfect timing," Dumbledore continued. "My friend is rather skilled in Divination himself. You can discuss it with him when we arrive."
He glanced at the clock on the wall and stood. "Whenever you're ready, we'll go visit him."
Lucien rose too. "Headmaster, how are we getting there?"
Dumbledore reached into his robes and pulled out a clear glass jar filled with colorful candies—lemon drops, toffees, chocolate balls. It looked completely ordinary.
Lucien's gaze went straight to the lid. A faint ring of runes circled the edge, almost invisible unless you knew what to look for.
"A Portkey?" he asked.
Dumbledore nodded. "You're familiar with them. Newt's dragged you through enough of them by now, hasn't he?"
Lucien couldn't help smiling. Newt treated Portkeys like a second nature—some places welcomed him, others definitely did not. The man was a walking incident waiting to happen, and Portkeys made sneaking in far too easy.
Mentioning Newt reminded Lucien of something.
"Headmaster, could you wait just a second?"
He waved one hand at the air while reaching into his pocket with the other. After a moment of rummaging, he slowly pulled his hand free. A platinum-colored Niffler came with it, both tiny paws clamped around a sparkling chunk of gemstone like it would die before letting go.
At the same time, his suitcase flew from the corner and landed neatly in his other hand.
He opened the case, tucked Ginny inside with a few snacks to calm her down, then pushed the suitcase back into the corner. He clearly had no intention of bringing it with him.
Dumbledore watched in silence.
Not bringing the suitcase—especially not the Niffler—was the smart move. His old friend might see that particular combination and remember some very old, very unpleasant memories.
Still, the way Lucien had handled it made Dumbledore wonder again.
Did this boy truly have no gift for prophecy?
"Headmaster, I'm ready," Lucien said, straightening his collar as he walked back over. "Let's go."
Dumbledore held out the candy jar.
Both of them placed a finger on the lid at the same time.
The instant they touched it, Lucien felt something like an invisible hook yank hard behind his navel. His body went weightless. His feet left the ground. He turned into a rush of wind and shot forward at breathtaking speed.