"More than a dozen Patronuses…"
Dumbledore raised a hand to stop Lucien before he could cast again. The office simply wasn't big enough for that many guardians at once. He finally understood what Lucien had meant earlier. It wasn't the size that was the problem. It was the number.
Even the headmaster's office had its limits.
Dumbledore adjusted his half-moon spectacles and stared at the silver owl sitting on his desk. The round little bird tilted its head and stared right back with huge, unblinking eyes. It looked almost innocent, completely unaware of the shock it had just delivered to the greatest wizard of the age.
A Patronus could reveal something essential about a wizard's soul. Rare or magical forms usually meant extraordinary talent in some area. Dumbledore had never doubted Lucien's gifts. But multiple Patronuses? There was no record of that anywhere in magical history.
He tapped his fingers lightly on the desk, as if checking whether he was still awake.
He had seen countless Patronuses over the years, including his own. Never once had he heard of a single wizard possessing more than one.
This went far beyond talent. It broke centuries of understanding about the spell itself.
Lucien stayed quiet while Dumbledore processed what he had just seen. He had told the headmaster the number, but he hadn't mentioned the humanoid Patronus yet. That one still felt unfinished. He wasn't ready to talk about it.
After a long silence, Dumbledore picked up his now-cold tea and took a small sip, trying to sound casual.
"Before, your unshaped Patronus mist could stir people's emotions and memories. Does the fully formed version still do that?"
"It does," Lucien answered. "And once it takes solid shape, the effect feels stronger. It can reach the soul itself."
Dumbledore's hand paused midair.
Touch the soul.
"Are you certain?" His voice had dropped.
Lucien described what had happened when Nagini passed through the Patronus—the cold rush, the sense of direct contact, the way the curse threads had reacted.
Dumbledore fell silent again.
Soul magic was dangerous territory. Most wizards avoided deep study of it. The soul was too delicate. One mistake could cause permanent damage. The people who pushed furthest into that kind of research were usually the ones who didn't care about consequences—dark wizards.
Dumbledore looked at him.
"Could your Patronus be used to examine soul-level injuries or curses? Or even help heal them?"
Lucien knew he was thinking of Nagini.
"The Patronus has given me real hope for treating soul curses," he said carefully. "But I'm not ready to try anything yet. There's almost no reliable information on this. I don't want to risk making things worse."
Dumbledore nodded. "Don't rush. Take your time."
He had never found a way to lift Nagini's curse years ago. If Lucien could succeed where he had failed, Dumbledore would be genuinely glad.
After another stretch of quiet, Dumbledore spoke again, this time with a question that seemed to come out of nowhere.
"Are you free over the summer?"
Lucien blinked. "Yes."
"Would you like to meet an old friend of mine?" Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled behind his glasses. "He's quite knowledgeable about curses. You might find the conversation useful."
Lucien lowered his gaze, thinking fast.
An old friend skilled with curses?
"I don't mind, Headmaster," he said. Then he added, "Could I ask where we'd be going?"
Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, choosing his words.
"My friend… has a rather difficult personality. He doesn't like people knowing his exact location or being disturbed."
"So I'll take you to him directly."
Lucien nodded calmly on the outside. Inside, his thoughts were racing.
Didn't want his address known? Didn't want to be disturbed?
Was Dumbledore unable to say, or simply choosing not to?
A quiet suspicion formed in the back of his mind.
This "old friend" wasn't living in some prison, was he?