"What?" Hermione froze.
"Harry found a mirror. It's called the Mirror of Erised."
"It shows a person the deepest, strongest desire of their heart."
Lucian explained calmly.
Understanding dawned on Hermione's face—followed by even deeper worry.
"Then… then what should we do? We have to pull him away from it!"
"I know," Lucian said, closing the book in his hands. "I'll handle it."
His tone carried a quiet authority—steady, reassuring, unquestionable.
"You should get some rest."
After sending the anxious Hermione away, Lucian turned his gaze toward Hogwarts under the night sky.
His extraordinary comprehension activated.
Problem: How to precisely track someone deliberately concealing their movements inside a vast castle using an Invisibility Cloak?
Solution: Analyze the unique magical residue left in the air. Construct a tracking spell that uses this magical signature as a beacon.
Spell construction complete.
Name: —
Lucian raised his right index finger and gently tapped the air.
"Pathfinder."
A faint silver-blue mote of light, cool as moonlight, gathered at his fingertip.
Moments later, the particles converged into a delicate butterfly made entirely of luminous silver-blue light.
The butterfly flapped its wings soundlessly. After circling an object carrying Harry's lingering magical trace, it drifted toward the exit of the common room.
Lucian followed calmly, stepping into the maze-like, silent corridors of the castle.
The butterfly flew slowly—but with unwavering certainty.
It passed familiar and unfamiliar hallways alike, glided past silent suits of armor, and finally stopped before an ordinary-looking blank wall.
It fluttered once more—gracefully—
Then dissolved into countless specks of light.
Lucian stood before the wall.
He reached out and gently pushed.
A hidden door—unknown to most—opened inward without a sound.
Inside, the room was dim.
The only light came from a massive mirror at its center, glowing with a mysterious sheen.
And before it—
A thin, lonely figure knelt on the ground, staring into the mirror in complete stillness.
At the same time, in the Headmaster's office, warmth filled the air.
Fawkes the phoenix perched on his gilded stand, preening his magnificent tail feathers. Strange silver instruments spun and puffed wisps of smoke tirelessly.
Albus Dumbledore was not seated behind his desk.
He stood before an ancient standing mirror whose surface rippled like water.
Within it appeared not his reflection—but the abandoned room in Hogwarts.
And the solitary boy kneeling before the Mirror of Erised.
Through this powerful magical device, Dumbledore silently observed Harry Potter.
He watched Harry trace his mother's face upon the cold glass.
He watched him lean his forehead against the mirror, as if hoping to feel warmth.
He saw the boy's growing thinness. The fading light in his green eyes.
Dumbledore's gaze was heavy with compassion—and worry.
He understood the danger of that mirror better than anyone.
Erised.
Reverse the letters, and it spells Desire.
It grants neither wisdom nor truth.
It only reveals the deepest longing hidden within one's heart.
Many witches and wizards had wasted away before it—lost in impossible visions, consumed by yearning, until life itself slipped from their grasp.
"Poor child…" Dumbledore sighed softly.
He had planned to intervene soon—tonight or the next—when Harry's obsession reached its peak.
But then—
A thought struck him like lightning.
The deepest desire of the heart…
Harry's was painfully clear: the family he had never had.
But what about that boy?
Lucian Thornwick.
Calm. Rational. Powerful beyond measure.
If he stood before the Mirror of Erised…
What would he see?
The question coiled around Dumbledore's mind instantly.
Supreme power?
Eternal life?
Some fundamental knowledge capable of overturning the entire magical world?
For the first time, Dumbledore realized—
He could not predict it.
Lucian was like a figure wrapped in endless mist. The longer one looked, the smaller and more ignorant one felt.
And then—
Dumbledore's blue eyes widened slightly.
In the magical mirror before him, the door to the abandoned room was quietly pushed open.
A tall figure in Gryffindor robes stepped inside.
Lucian.
He had found it as well.
Dumbledore's surprise lasted only a moment.
Then it transformed into something else—
Anticipation.
He leaned forward slightly, half-moon spectacles glinting, eyes fixed unblinkingly upon the boy who had just entered.
Come then, Lucian…
Let me see.
Deep within your unfathomable soul—
What is it that you desire most?
—------------------------------
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