At Hogwarts, the story begins with deconstructing Avada Kedavra.

The afternoon sun streamed through the arched windows, lazily bathing the deep blue carpet of the Ravenclaw Tower.

Christmas has been over for several days, and the Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor is just around the corner.

Inside the common room, the air was filled with the smell of parchment and the sounds of heated debate.

In front of the arched window, a blackboard that had been transformed was creaking in mid-air, with chalk dancing a tango on it.

Roger Davis, Ravenclaw's Quidditch captain, stood on a table, waving his wand and pointing at the blackboard, roaring, "

If the Gryffindor Weasley twins hit a running ball at the same time, we can't just dodge! We have to—Terry, take that damn sign of yours off, it's blocking the dive route!

At his feet, several third-grade students sat around a pile of shimmering fabric. They were trying to cast a permanent color-changing spell on the huge blue banner.

"Add some more gold, the color is too dark!" A girl waved her wand, directing the needle and thread to move automatically across the fabric. "We need to make this eagle look like it's looking down at its prey, not like a pigeon with the flu. And add a Blink spell, we need to make Wood blinded when he's guarding the door."

"That's a foul, Martha."

"The book doesn't say that 'mistakes caused by banners being too bright' are a violation; this is called the proper use of psychological tactics."

Contrary to popular belief, the Ravenclaw eagles are not just bookworms. When it comes to the proposition that "winning would prove we are smarter than those Gryffindor brutes," their competitive spirit is harder than a troll's head.

Lucien sat by the window, holding a glass bead and gently turning it in the sunlight.

The light shone through the glass, casting a shimmering spot on the back of his hand.

The Weasley twins had secretly given him the test subject the night before last. It was their newly developed prank prop—mischievous fireworks.

Fred and George originally wanted the thing to explode in their hands, but Lucian suggested they add a delayed trigger and pressure sensing.

Lucian spun the glass sphere in the sunlight, watching as he used his shapeshifting magic to compress the originally highly unstable gunpowder core inside into a magnificent nebula. If subjected to a violent impact, this thing would explode, forming a cloud that wouldn't dissipate for half an hour, automatically spelling out the words "I'm a complete idiot."

There was a noise at the door.

The bronze eagle ring presented a riddle, which clearly stumped the person outside the door.

If it were a true Ravenclaw, even if they couldn't answer, they would enthusiastically debate with the door knocker. But the person outside hesitated for half a minute, and finally, as if reciting a text, stammered out the standard answer.

The door opened.

A girl walked in.

She was wearing Ravenclaw's signature blue-trimmed robes and carrying three thick, brick-like volumes of "The History of Medieval Magic".

Padma?

No.

That's Parvati.

The twins seem to be addicted to their game of switching identities. After being tricked in the yard last time, they've clearly come up with a more elaborate plan.

Parvati tried hard to imitate her sister's gait. She kept her head down, seemingly deep in thought, but her eyes kept glancing towards the window.

The books she was carrying were too heavy.

These props were probably added intentionally to conceal her identity, but she clearly underestimated the weight of knowledge. Her arm muscles were tense, and her neck was slightly tilted forward—a common posture for people who don't often carry heavy objects.

"Poor acting skills."

Lucien made his own assessment, but he didn't call it out on it.

Life always needs a little spice, just like occasionally adding a sugar cube to black tea.

"Padma, have you finished your paper on the elementary laws of the Metamorphosis Guide?"

A boy with light blond hair, Anthony Goldstein, approached, waving a piece of parchment covered in dense writing.

"The irreversibility of the transformation spell that Professor McGonagall requested seems like a paradox no matter how much I researched it."

Parvati was startled, nearly slipping the book "A History of Medieval Magic" from her hands. What did she know about irreversibility? She had spent three nights in the Gryffindor common room trying to turn a match into a needle.

But she quickly adjusted her expression, adopting the clever look she had practiced countless times in front of the mirror.

It's probably just a slight frown, a blank stare, and a hint of disdain at the corner of the mouth.

"Oh, that one."

Parvati, feigning profundity, switched the book to his other arm and said in an extremely perfunctory yet confident tone, "Actually, you only need to refer to the footnotes in Chapter Twelve regarding the 'Basic Laws of Gamp Transformation'... The rest is all up to intuition."

"Intuition?" Anthony paused for a moment, then his expression brightened. "Merlin's beard! How come I didn't think of that! As expected of you, you always manage to think outside the box!"

"...You're welcome." Parvati breathed a sigh of relief in his heart, but maintained the composure that only a Ravenclaw honor student could have on his face.

For the next few minutes, she was completely at home.

Whether it was Lisa Dupin asking about herbal pest control techniques or Sue Lee complaining that Professor Flitwick's spell assignments were too difficult, Parvati dealt with them with a vague yet profound attitude that conveyed the message, "It's very simple, figure it out yourself."

This feeling is amazing.

She was clearly a Gryffindor lion who preferred gossiping and laughing loudly in the corridors, but now she was wearing her sister's blue coat and mingling effortlessly among the smartest people at Hogwarts.

Even Padma's close friends, who were usually inseparable, didn't realize that the person pretending to read a book actually didn't even understand the title.

However, after the initial excitement faded, a strange emptiness crept into my heart.

Everyone smiled at her and praised Padma's unique insights.

But no one saw Parvati.

so boring.

That's way too easy.

Once this feeling of loneliness is amplified in the mind of a twelve-year-old, it immediately transforms into the adventurous impulse to punch a hole in the ceiling.

I want something more exciting.

I want to... do something truly Gryffindor in this adorable little paradise filled with the smell of ink and the rustling of parchment.

Parvati looked around and saw the people who had teased her and her sister last time.

Lucian.

That guy who always looks at the world with an all-seeing gaze.

If it were him...

Parvati's fingers unconsciously traced the spine of the thick book.

She walked to a table not far from Lucien and slammed the book down.

She exhaled, then realized this didn't fit Padma's persona, quickly covered her mouth, and looked at Lucien.

Lucien turned his head at the sound, his gaze calmly falling on her.

Pavati's heart tightened.

She had specially borrowed her sister's spare robe today and braided her thick black hair into an intricate style. She practiced her expressions in front of the mirror for a full hour.

"Lucian." She imitated her sister's voice, trying to make it sound steady.

"The sun is shining brightly today."

This opening line was absolutely terrible.

Lucian held up the glass bead in his hand.

"It's really good."

A tap of the fingertip.

A colorful cloud of mist rose up from inside the glass.

Transfiguration.

Light and shadow inside an object.

"This is for you."

Lucian flicked his wrist, and the glass bead landed precisely on Parvati.

Parvati caught it in a flurry of activity.

The glass bead felt slightly cool to the touch. Looking down, she saw the mist swirling inside the sphere, transforming into miniature, red and gold lions. They bared their teeth and roared silently within the glass cage.

Parvati was stunned.

She looked at the majestic lion cubs, her eyes overflowing with affection.

"So...so beautiful."

She clutched the glass marble tightly in her hand, her cheeks slightly flushed. "Thank you, Lucien."

She was completely unaware that the gift itself was a silent revelation.

"If you like it, that's good." Lucien looked out the window again, his tone relaxed. "Hold on tight, it's rather... lively."

Parvati was encouraged. She felt her disguise today was perfect; Lucian wasn't as unapproachable as rumored at all! He even gave her a gift!

She cleared her throat, deciding to press her advantage and reveal her true purpose for the day.

She took two steps forward, clutching the glass marble that would kill her if she accidentally dropped it. "This weekend is the Ravenclaw vs. Gryffindor match."

"I know." Lucian didn't turn around. "If everyone could talk about tactics a few decibels quieter, I would understand better."

She tried to keep her tone casual, "I reserved a good spot in the stands. Right in the front row, the view is fantastic."

After she finished speaking, she looked at that profile with hopeful eyes.

This was the first time she had extended an invitation as a Ravenclaw, and she thought that since they were classmates in the same house, he couldn't very well refuse, could he?

Lucian remained silent.

The silence made Parvati uneasy. She stroked the glass ball in her hand, and the little lion inside ran around even more excitedly.

"I have no interest in balls that fly around in the sky."

Lucian's voice came through, without him turning around or changing his tone.

"I also hate noisy environments, and..." He pointed to the howling wind outside the window, "the kind of behavior that involves freezing your face for meaningless grades."

Parvati was stunned.

"But...that's Quidditch!" she protested, her Gryffindor passion bursting through her disguise. "It's honor!"

"Glory belongs to the winners, the cold belongs to the audience."

Lucian picked up a quill from the table, a clear signal to leave. "Also, you're holding that copy of 'A History of Medieval Magic' upside down."

"..."

Pavati looked down and saw that the gold-embossed letters on the spine of the book were indeed upside down.

awkward.

A suffocatingly awkward situation.

"wack!"

She finally couldn't keep up the act any longer, muttered something under her breath, and even forgot to use Padma's voice. She angrily picked up the heavy pile of books, still clutching the glass marble tightly in her hand, and turned to leave.

"Wait a minute," Lucien suddenly said.

Parvati paused, a glimmer of hope rekindling in his heart. Had he changed his mind?

Lucian pointed to the glass ball in her hand and kindly reminded her:

"Don't break it. It's a Weasley brothers'...custom-made item. If you don't want to become a celebrity in the hallway."

Parvati paused for a moment, and although he didn't understand, he nodded subconsciously and then rushed out of the Ravenclaw common room as if he were escaping.

Only after the door closed did Lucien shake his head and reopen his notebook.

"So full of energy."

However, what if that glass ball really does explode halfway through...

Lucian thought to himself in a good mood: That's much more interesting than Quidditch.

……

night,

A series of dull, rhythmic thuds echoed down the corridor.

That was the sound of some heavy object having to bounce and slamming onto the floor.

Lucian stopped in his tracks.

A round, chubby figure was "jumping" around the corner in an extremely comical manner. His legs were tightly pressed together, bound by invisible ropes, and each movement required a powerful leap from his waist and abdomen before landing heavily and teetering on the edge.

Neville Longbottom.

The Gryffindor boy's face was flushed, and tears welled up in his eyes, but he bit his lip hard to keep himself from crying out loud.

As he lost his balance again and was about to fall face-first onto the cold stone slab, a gentle magic caught his knees, allowing him to barely regain his footing.

Neville looked through his blurry, tear-filled eyes.

"Lucian?" Neville sobbed.

"Help me! Malfoy... did he use a leg-weakening spell on me too, or something like that...?"

"Locomotor Mortis (Standing dead)."

"This must have been Malfoy's doing."

"Please, please untie me," Neville pleaded. "I need to get back to the lounge... everyone's laughing at me."

Lucian raised his wand.

A glimmer of hope appeared in Neville's eyes.

But the next second, Lucien simply tapped Neville's robe with the tip of his wand, straightened his disheveled collar, and then lowered his arm.

"I refuse."

Neville froze, tears finally welling up in his eyes: "Why...why? We're not..."

"Because it makes no sense, Longbottom."

Lucian stared intently into Neville's eyes. "I'll help you break it, but Malfoy will use other spells tomorrow. Longbottom, cowardice is the hardest curse to break for you. And I can't do anything about it."

"I...I can't beat him..." Neville shrank back.

Lucian stepped back, making way for someone, and pointed in a certain direction above the stairs.

"Go find Harry Potter."

"Harry?" Neville repeated blankly.

"He is the savior, the golden boy of Gryffindor."

"Heroes always need a stage to shine. Go show him your wounds, show him your wretchedness. Tell him it was the Slytherin who did this to you."

"But Harry will also be targeted by Malfoy..."

"He is different from you."

Lucian's smile deepened.

"But the lions of Gryffindor never hesitate to stand up for their companions, do they? Your pain should fuel their anger, not be a trivial matter for me. Go forth and let your hero fight for you."

Neville seemed to understand, but he was intimidated by Lucian's confident aura. In the corridor, Ravenclaw's suggestion sounded promising.

"Looking for... looking for Harry." Neville sniffed, his heart pounding again with difficulty. "Thank you, Lucian."

Watching that struggling figure disappear into the distance, the swirls in Lucian's eyes flickered slightly.

He knew that a midnight duel, points deducted from the academy, a reckless hero... a drama with a pre-written script was about to unfold.